Editor’s note: For more than 20 years, Father Raymond de Souza has preached the “Seven Last Words” devotion, a traditional meditation on the seven times Jesus speaks from the cross on Good Friday. Made famous in recent times by the Venerable Fulton J. Sheen, the meditations are usually organized around a particular theme. For 2025, Father de Souza chose the Nicene Creed as his theme, as the Catholic Church marks this year the 1,700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea. These meditations were preached at Holy Cross parish in Kemptville, Ontario, where Father de Souza is the pastor. The other six parts are here, here, here, here, here and here.

“When Jesus had received the wine, he said, ‘It is finished’; and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. … After this Joseph of Arimathea, who was a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, for fear of the Jews, asked Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus, and Pilate gave him leave. So he came and took away his body. Nicodemus also, who had at first come to him by night, came bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pounds in weight. They took the body of Jesus, and bound it in linen cloths with the spices, as is the burial custom of the Jews. Now in the place where he was crucified, there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb where no one had ever been laid. So because of the Jewish day of Preparation, as the tomb was close at hand, they laid Jesus there.” — (John 19:30, 38-42)

The seventh and final word from the Cross, concluding our meditations this Lent on the Nicene Creed, sounds fitting: It is finished. At the same time, it is a bit unsatisfactory, maybe even a bit confusing. What is “it” that is finished?

The execution of Jesus is finished; He speaks just before He dies. But the passion is not finished; the death of Jesus is only the 12th station of the Via Crucis. There are two more: Jesus is taken down from the Cross and placed in the arms of the Blessed Mother. He is then wrapped in linen and laid in the tomb. Those stations also belong to the Passion.

It is finished cannot refer to the Paschal mystery as a whole, because the death and burial are not the end of the story. To the contrary, there is a great deal of activity to come.

It is finished comes from the 19th chapter of John’s Gospel. In his account, the piercing of Jesus’ side follows, which is enormously significant. In Matthew’s Gospel, the moment of the death is accompanied by signs and wonders.

“And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom; and the earth shook, and the rocks were split; the tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised, and coming out of the tombs after his resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many. When the centurion and those who were with him, keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were filled with awe, and said, ‘Truly this was the Son of God!’” (Matthew 27:51-54)

The sequence is not absolutely clear, but at the moment of His death, on that Friday afternoon, tombs were opened and bodies were raised. It is finished but there is still a lot going on.

The Scripture speaks of a “day of preparation.” That specifically refers to a great Jewish feast at hand, but it is suggestive that soon after we hear “it is finished,” we speak of preparation. Work remains to be done.

Jesus lies in the tomb. We know now that something mysterious and marvelous was at work. The Shroud of Turin, venerated as the burial garment of Jesus, is being miraculously imprinted. Even today, with the most advanced scientific techniques, we cannot explain that image. Work was being done in the tomb.

On Holy Saturday morning, the Liturgy of the Hours (Breviary) includes an anonymous ancient homily: “Awake, O sleeper.” Christ is going to all those the dead awaiting redemption. “Awake, O sleeper, rise and let us leave this place.” It was not all finished on Friday afternoon.

Biblically, St. Paul teaches that if Christ did not rise, then our faith is in vain (1 Corinthians 15:14). So it cannot be that “it” is finished without Christ risen from the dead.

Sacramentally, we make present on the altar that same sacrifice of Calvary. It is not a new sacrifice. It is not a repetition of an old sacrifice. The same sacrifice that Jesus offered to His Father on the Cross is made present to us in this time and this place. With Catholics in every time zone, Holy Mass is being offered somewhere at all times. We might permit ourselves to say that nothing ever was less “finished” than the sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross, for it is always continuing sacramentally, it is perpetually present in the world, offered to the Father.

There is an inadequacy of language. There are dozens of English translations of the Scriptures and most have “it is finished.” But a minority offer a variation — “It is accomplished” — which means something different. Accomplishment can be something enduring. We might say of a certain figure that he is a man of great accomplishment. We don’t mean that he is finished accomplishing, much less that he is dead.

“Accomplished” is likely better than “finished” for the seventh word. In the Latin Vulgate, the official Latin version of the Bible — which itself is a translation of the original languages — this verse is rendered, “consummatum est.” More literal English translations thus have, “it is consummated.”

To consummate something means to complete it, to bring it to fulfillment. It doesn’t mean that it is finished. It means, in fact, that it endures. It continues in its fulfillment.

Consummation is fitting for a covenant; a covenant is made and then there is an act of consummation to solemnize that covenant. The covenant, once consummated, defines a new relationship and a new reality. We use that term in relation to the marital covenant, but it has a broader application. There were covenants in the history of salvation and they were ritualized, solemnized, consummated.

Consummatum est better describes what is happening on the Cross. A new covenant has been consummated. Something has been completed, fulfilled. The physical sufferings of the Lord Jesus have ended with His death. The passion is soon to be completed with His burial. But it is not the end.

After His resurrection, Jesus preserves some memories, some tokens, some scars of the Passion. He shows to St. Thomas the wounds in His hands and feet, the opening in His side. These He carries with Him because they have some enduring value. They are signs of a covenant, just as the older covenants had their own signs. This new covenant has not been left to history or locked away in the past. It has been fulfilled, completed, consummated — and it endures.

As we come to the seventh word, we come to the end of the Nicene Creed. It too describes a lot of activity in its final lines:

I believe in one, holy, Catholic and apostolic church. I confess one baptism for the forgiveness of sins, I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.

The Creed describes the age of the Church. The Church — one, holy, catholic and apostolic — extends herself across two millennia and in every corner of the map, every longitude and latitude on the globe. The work of the Church is not finished even though the consummation of the Cross was long ago accomplished. The work of the Church is to baptize to forgive sins. And then Christians disciples look forward.

The Creed does not only profess what Jesus did in past, although we recall that with faith and gratitude. The Creed looks forward, literally: I look forward to the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come.

Something lies ahead. Matthew 27 gives us a glimpse of that with the tombs that were mysteriously opened on Good Friday. The resurrection of the body is a doctrine of the faith. At the end of time, at the “consummation” of all history, we know that our bodies will be restored to us — “the resurrection of the dead.”

We are created as bodies and souls together, a body-soul unity. Death means the separation of the soul from the body. We go to our judgment immediately upon our death. Please God, we will be admitted to the company of the saints, or if needs be, to be purified in purgatory. We pray devoutly to avoid hell, a final definitive estrangement from God.

In the resurrection of the body, creation will somehow be restored to the original holiness God intended for it. That is the “life of the world to come,” which we profess in the Creed. Even if we enjoy the vision of God in heaven — what we call “beatitude” — something is still lacking if we are not a unity of body and soul again.

What those bodies will look like, we don’t know now. It is possible that things you don’t like about your body will somehow be corrected. It is more likely that we will learn how to look properly on the bodies we have. If today you can look upon your body as a glorified thing, perhaps you have the gift of seeing ahead of time!

We know our bodies now. We know this world now. We live in it and are aware of its blessings, which are manifold, and of its shortcomings, also evident. There remains, though, a world to come. Jesus speaks of it. We get a glimpse of it in the Sacred Scriptures, especially the Book of Revelation.

We see there the image of the lamb that was slain but lives (Revelation 5:12). The Lamb is perpetually slain and living at the same time. In heaven, in the New Jerusalem, the heavenly Jerusalem, in eternity, we shall see then what we see with the eyes of faith on our altar every day. Jesus, slain but alive, being offered to the Father.

The seventh word leaves us with Jesus in the tomb. As the tomb was close at hand, they laid Jesus there. There He will lay on the Sabbath day, the seventh and final day of the Jewish week, the day on which the Lord God, having created the heavens and the earth, rested. At the end, we return to the beginning. Jesus rests in the tomb. And after the seventh day, the Sabbath day, follows the first day of the next week.

On the very first day of creation, by the power of the Spirit, God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. So it will be on the first day of the week, after the rest of the Sabbath, after the rest of the tomb. God will say again, “Let there be light,” and there will be light. Light that will come from within the tomb itself.

It is finished. Our bodies, our hearts, our souls, need at some point to say that it is finished. In this finite world marked by sin, we need to say it is finished. Even good things need to finish, lest they become too tiresome. Certainly, the burdens of life invite us to say it is finished.

For the Lord Jesus on the Cross, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, it is not finished as much as it is consummated. Now is the time for His rest, and we wait. We wait on Holy Saturday for the resurrection. And from our place in history, we look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Consummatum est.