They invited him to come down from the Cross. Maybe he wanted to and knew it might be their salvation, but he didn't because he couldn't. The time for miracles, signs and wonders was over. What he had already said and done had brought him to this point and how he had to want it this way, even though it seemed so hopeless.
He had to believe it was right, that the degradation and pain of this naked suffering was more important. That his hanging could mean more than his coming down.
He knew he was dying and didn't want to. It was ending so desperately. He needed to believe it was what God had asked, that having taken the first step into faith it had to end here, but God, he hoped, could make even this worthwhile. So he stayed and he suffered and bled, wishing it could be different, yet sure it was more than it seemed.
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