For Palm Sunday, a skeptic looks at some famous last words
By Charlotte B. Cerminaro
web posted April 14, 2025
The difference between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion. - Albert Einstein
Today [April 13, 2025 – editor's note], in several dozen countries around the world, countless people are celebrating the holiday of Palm Sunday. This day marks an important historical milestone - the Messiah's triumphal entry into Jerusalem in preparation for the festival of Passover. Based on the most widely accepted scholarly estimates this was probably the year 33 AD (CE), occurring exactly one week prior to that most profound, pivotal happening: The discovery of an empty tomb. Unfolding within that seven day interval were some of the most well-documented events in history - including the most famous and astounding last words ever uttered.
Unsurprisingly, humans are often captivated by the everyday activities of unusual people, and this is especially true of events surrounding their death. Some of the greatest minds in history were also known for their simple last words, conveying ideas and wisdom that were anything but simple. Sir Isaac Newton left this world with these words: "I don't know what I may seem to the world, but as to myself, I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself now and then in finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than the ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me." Similar regrets were also expressed by Leonardo da Vinci in these words widely attributed to him: "I have offended God and mankind because my work did not reach the quality it should have." This sentiment reflects da Vinci's constant pursuit of perfection and dissatisfaction with his artistic endeavors.
Occasionally, famous last words are memorable for their expression of personality, humor, and feelings of gratitude or awe. Alfred Hitchcock, the master of suspense, said, "One never knows the ending. One has to die to know exactly what happens after death, although Catholics have their hopes." When a priest entered his room to hear his confession, playwright Wilson Mizner said, "Why should I talk to you? I've just been talking to your boss." The last moments and words of Steve Jobs were written by his sister in this touching eulogy: Steve's final words, hours earlier, were monosyllables, repeated three times. Before embarking, he'd looked at his sister Patty, then for a long time at his children, then at his life's partner, Laurene, and then over their shoulders past them. Steve's last words were: "OH WOW. OH WOW. OH…WOW."
For thousands of years every observant Israeli made the religious pilgrimage to Jerusalem at least three times each year and Pesach (Hebrew for Passover) was the pinnacle of their religious and civil calendar. Beginning at nightfall with the first full moon after vernal equinox, the influx of visitors for this holiday started a few weeks earlier. Two thousand years ago, the city's typically crowded and bustling streets were overflowing; hundreds of thousands of visitors were waiting in expectation for Jesus' arrival. A few days later, only hours before the start of Passover, religious leaders known as Pharisees handed Jesus over to the Romans to be executed. His trial had been a sham - held secretively in the middle of night, with witnesses all offering conflicting testimony - none of their trial laws were followed.
At nightfall, just as the Paschal lamb was sacrificed, Jesus uttered those unforgettable words: "Forgive them Lord, for they know not what they do." At the very end, after six hours of unthinkable suffering something so unexpected occurred: a sublime expression of triumph - Tetelestai - a Greek verb in the aorist tense (past, present, future, for all time) having no equivalent in any other language, roughly translated to "It is completed". The sacrificial system has been completed perfectly, once, for all time, as the ultimate innocent sacrifice was made. Sin and death have been defeated by His atonement; those famous last words are now, and forever, our own redemption. 
Charlotte B. Cerminaro is a Juilliard-trained classical musician and recording artist. In her free time she enjoys writing and regularly contributes to Enter Stage Right and she attained a Bachelor's Degree in Molecular Biology.
