Title: The Roman Centurion’s view of the Cross
Text: Mark 15:21-39
Date: 4/5/2007: Location: Franklin AARP
I expected nothing but a routine day of work for my men and me. Jerusalem was for the most part "easy duty." Our job was to keep the peace and preserve law and order. However, from time to time we were called upon to crucify a criminal or two. Which really didn’t bother us, since we were Roman soldiers, and had been trained to kill.
Driving nails through a person’s wrists and fastening them to a cross was something that had almost become second nature for us. That particular day we weren’t exactly sure how many people we would be crucifying. The matter hadn’t been settled until the early morning hours, long after I had gone to bed. We already knew that a couple of common thieves would be crucified, but we were unsure about a third man.
A political game was being played between our Chief of State, Pontius Pilate, who was a weakling that we didn’t respect very much, and the Chief Priest of the Jews. Pilate really wanted to execute a political prisoner by the name of Barabas. He had been arrested for trying to stir up a insurrection and overthrow the Roman empire. Which was really quite humorous to us, just the thought of it, made us laugh.
But the Chief priests wanted a man named Jesus of Nazareth to be crucified. We had heard about Jesus, of course, everybody had heard about him. And to be honest at first his popularity with the Jewish people concerned us a little. But when we investigated him we determined that Jesus of Nazareth was by no means a political threat to the Roman Empire. In fact Jesus told his followers to love their enemies.
But He had stirred up quite a religious mess among the Jews however, which was why the Pharisee’s and the Chief Priests wanted to get rid of Him. So there was a tug-of-war taking place between Pilate and the Jewish religious leaders. We knew that Pilate was just a spineless politician, and that the Chief priests were much more determined to get what they wanted, and would continue to pressure Pilate until he gave into their demands, which he eventually did. So, our job would be to crucify two common criminals and this religious zealot named Jesus Christ.
It would be easy work for my men and me. Killing had become just a routine part of our jobs. It didn’t really bother us. After all it was what we were paid to do. But this day and this execution would prove to be different from all the rest.
What I saw and what I heard the day Jesus Christ died changed my life forever. I saw what He endured. I heard what He said. The Last 6 hours He lived made a life dramatic impact on me. He was different from all of the other men I had seen die. He said and did things in the last hours of His life like no man I’d ever seen.
The day began just like any other day. I had my normal breakfast. Then I walked through the streets of Jerusalem on my way to the palace prison. But as I walked along, I sensed that emotions were running a little higher than normal. Jerusalem was crowded, thousands of Jews had arrived for the observance of their Passover (which was one of their religious holidays).
I wasn’t a religious man, in fact I believed religion was just something for weak people, like the Jews. But everyone on the streets that morning had an opinion about Jesus. Some were quite fond of him. Many spoke of His kindness toward them, some of them even claimed that he had healed them. Others spoke of how their hearts had been stirred when they heard Him teach, and how they had become convinced that He was a prophet of God. On the other hand, many people, especially the Jewish religious leaders were infuriated by his Radical religious teachings. Caiaphas their High priest made the comment that it would be better for him to die, than for the whole nation to suffer the wrath of Rome.
I didn’t pay much attention to them, because all of this was just a good example of the kind of religious nonsense that the Jews always seemed to be talking about. Nonetheless the streets were abuzz; no one seemed neutral about Jesus, or about the day’s activities. I realized on my way to the palace that morning, that I might have to be more alert than usual. Because some of his supporters might try to rescue him or his over zealous enemies might attempt to take matters into their own hands and kill him themselves.
It was the third hour of the day, (that’s 9:00 a.m. your time), when I instructed my soldiers to carry out Pilate’s orders and crucify Jesus. When I first saw Jesus I have to admit, I was a little caught off guard. I will never forget His eyes as He looked at those who had just called for His death and those of us who would carry it out.
My men led him down the road toward the garbage dump outside of town where we routinely executed criminals. He looked weak and fatigued. Obviously the scourging that Pilate had ordered had taken its toll on him. Some of my men decided to have a little fun at his expense. They had taken a crown of thorns and driven into His head, and streaks of dried blood still covered his face. My Men ordered the three prisoners to pick up their crosses, and we started toward the hill called Golgotha, where they would be crucified.
But before long, Jesus collapsed under the weight of the cross. So my men enlisted a stranger from the crowd to carry the heavy beam for him. Now don’t misunderstand me, it wasn’t that we felt sorry for him or anything like that….I simply wanted to get on with my job. The closer we got to the garbage dump, I noticed that the crowd was getting larger. Many of those who lined the streets were cursing him, but a few were crying for him. I quickly scanned the crowd to see if I could determine who his followers were, in case they planned to do something foolish, like try to rescue him.
When we got to the top of the hill my men quickly did what they had been trained to do. They drove the steel spikes through the flesh of their wrists and raised the heavy wooden crosses up and dropped them into a hole.
We waited and watched. Jesus seemed to get most of the attention from the crowd that day. Some of the people were mean and vindictive in what they said and how they acted.
In the eyes of others I could see hurt, disappointment, and even despair. Obviously these were his followers. I thought to myself that I would have to keep an eye on them to make sure they didn’t try anything foolish. But then I decided that they probably didn’t have the courage to attempt any kind of rescue. I remembered what some of my men had told me about when they had arrested him the night before, and how those who had been with him had fled into the night.
I glanced up at the two criminals who were on either side of Jesus. They were bitter and angry, cursing their fate, their trial, the crowd, and even my men. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, I had seen and heard all of this before.
I also noticed Jesus. Now, don’t make too much of this because it wasn’t bothering me all that much, but I would prefer not to crucify an innocent man. Not that I was squeamish, not that I cared much if Jews were innocent or not, but it did bother me a little to think that we might be killing someone who didn’t deserve to die. And this time, my men and I knew that Jesus was being thrown to the wolves not because of what He had done but as a political sacrifice to satisfy the Jewish religious leaders. But then it wasn’t our responsibility to be the judge and jury. We had a job to do, and I couldn’t allow myself to get caught up in thinking about that.
However, as the day went on, I had an increasingly growing sense of uneasiness or perhaps even conviction that Jesus was innocent and that what was happening to Him was wrong. I realized that He was a victim of religious bigotry and petty politics. I was impressed by His bravery. He didn’t curse my men, or try to resist them when they put him on the cross. In fact it almost seemed as if he was willingly laying down his life. I have seen enough crucifixions in my lifetime to know how much pain that He was in. He hung there on that cross, stripped of all of his clothing, and all of his dignity, exposed to the elements and the insects. He was obviously in excruciating pain, yet he seemed so calm, so sure of himself and at peace with it all. How he maintained his composure was a mystery to me. As an eyewitness to many executions, I had never seen anyone face death like He did. I overheard Him say something in one of his prayers that caught my attention. The crowd ridiculed and insulted him unmercifully. But Jesus responded to them in a way that I had never seen before. His eyes were not filled with anger; they were filled with heartbroken compassion. As He looked at those around the cross, who were insulting and ridiculing him, He said something almost unbelievable. I couldn’t believe my own ears. Never had I heard a crucified man say such words. I was accustomed to hearing them curse and swear and scream, but Jesus said, "Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." I thought to myself, Who is this man and where does such love and strength come from? My respect for Jesus of Nazareth was growing.__
As I said, He was crucified between two criminals. At first, both of them yelled at Jesus. One of them said, "If you are the Christ, then Save yourself and Us". But, suddenly the other criminal’s attitude changed. He looked at Jesus and asked Christ to remember him. Jesus looked at him with those same eyes of loving compassion and promised the man that that very day he would be with Him in paradise.
Even while Jesus was dying, He was concerned about others and offered comfort and a promise of a better tomorrow. I’ve never seen a man die the way Jesus died. Two people who were obviously distraught made their way toward the cross where Jesus was hanging. They undoubtedly knew Him well. They didn’t say a word; they just wept. Jesus looked at them the way a mother looks at her crying child. He seemed to be telling them good-bye. He said to the grieving woman, "Dear woman, here is you son" Then He looked at the man standing beside her and said, "here is your mother." The man nodded, took the woman by the hand, and led her away from the hill called Mt. Calvary.
What kind of man cares for others while His life is being taken from him? I consider myself to be a good judge of character - you have to be in my line of work - and this was not normal behavior for a man who was being crucified. I tell you I’ve seen a lot of men die, but I’ve never seen a man die the way Jesus died. I’ll be honest with you; I grew to respect Him. I thought, I wouldn’t mind having Him on my side whenever the chips were down.
The whole thing was beginning to bother me more and more. His innocence. His actions. His words. The crowds. All of it. I couldn’t believe that I had allowed my men to leave that crown of thorns on His head. It wasn’t necessary.
The hours passed. It was the sixth hour, when something strange and unexplainable happened. It was mid day but all of a sudden it became as dark as night. It was more than the sun going behind the clouds, it was as dark as dark could be. My first reaction was to begin scanning the crowd, and to get my men ready, because darkness would have provided the ultimate cover for an escape plan. But for some reason, I didn’t really worry about that. I somehow had the feeling that Jesus of Nazareth had no plans to escape, that He was right where He wanted to be.
Death was hammering on the anvil of Jesus’ life as the ninth hour approached, that’s (3:00 p.m. your time). I began to sense that some divine work was going on. Respect began turning to Reverence - to Awe. Jesus looked toward the sky. I watched his eyes. He seemed to be searching the heavens, almost like a lost child searching through a crowd of people for his parents. With a large sigh, He shouted, "My God, My God why have you forsaken me." A little while later, with his chin drooping near His chest and His lips cracked from dehydration, He said, "I thirst". Every crucified man experiences thirst from the bleeding and the scorching sun and the stinging wind. Someone started to give Jesus a sponge filled with vinegar, but someone else stopped him and said, "leave him alone..He’s calling out to Elijah, let’s see if Elijah will help him."
I knew a lot about men. I observed enough to know what a man was made of, not only by the way he lived but by the way he died, and my heart was beginning to melt as I watched this remarkable man die. Not once did he make demands or curse. Not once did He look at me, or anyone else with anger or hatred in his eyes. I’ve seen a lot of men die, but I’ve never seen anyone die like Jesus died.
The next thing Jesus said sounded strangely triumphant. It sounded like the blast of a trumpet after a battle had been won. He shouted, "It is finished." I thought to myself, "What is finished?" Was He speaking of His life, or was it something more? It sounded more like He was saying He had finished what He had set out to do. It sounded like a shout of confidence, like He had completed a task. Never had I heard a man proclaim victory as His life was being taken away from him on a cross. But then again, as I said before, I had never seen anyone die the way Jesus died.
The last words He spoke were words to His Father. He said, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit."
Jesus died like a child falling asleep in the arms of a loving, trusting father. I’ve seen a lot of men crucified during my career, but never have I seen anyone die like Jesus died.
I was standing at the foot of the cross and somehow I Knew I was standing in the presence of God. I knew I was watching love being poured out on unworthy people like rain on the sunbaked soil. I knew somehow that Jesus was dying for me, and for every human being who would ever be born.
In that moment I couldn’t help but proclaim "Surely this man was the Son of God." Mark 15;39.
Some of my men took him off the cross and some of his followers took him to a tomb and buried him. The Jews convinced Pilate to post a few of my men at the tomb to guard it, in case some of his followers came to steal the body. It seems that Jesus had once claimed that He would come back to life after being killed. The Jewish religious leaders certainly didn’t want his disciples to come and steal the body and then claim that he had risen from the dead. So a few of my men went and stood guard over the tomb.
It was pretty uneventful until early Sunday morning, when a violent earthquake suddenly struck, and my soldiers reported seeing what appeared to be two angels wearing white robes. My men were so frightened that they fainted. When they came to, they realized that the stone which had been used to seal the tomb had been rolled away. They went to investigate and found the tomb empty.
They became frightened and went to report this to the chief priests, who then paid them to keep their mouths shut, and claim that it had been his disciples who had come and stolen his body during the night. Of course we all knew better than that.
During the next 40 days, more and more people claimed that they knew someone who had seen Jesus alive. This just reinforced what I had already come to believe. That Jesus of Nazareth, truly was the Son of the Living God.
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-Some of the content and the idea behind this sermon came from a book of Christian Monologues which I have long since forgotten.
