The Passion
Matthew 27:27-31
Then he (who was Pilate the Roman governor) released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.
27 Then the governor’s soldiers took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers around him. 28 They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, 29 and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head. They put a staff in his right hand and knelt in front of him and mocked him. “Hail, king of the Jews!” they said. 30 They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. 31 After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.
Markus stared at the uniform carefully draped over the chair next to his bed. It was a uniform he was proud to wear. He recalled his vow to defend his country against all enemies both foreign and domestic. Those were not just mere words, as he spoke them, they came from the heart. Everyday since he has put on that uniform and stood shoulder to shoulder with other men who believed in the same principals he was trying to live by. Sure you could find those the army who were there for either of the money or the power, but he and his buddies had joined because deep down they realized it was a calling, but it was more than just a calling, more than just a vocation, it was their destiny.
Not everyone understood his pride in serving his country. In fact in the last twenty years he had been stationed in every corner of the earth. Some would greet him with open arms because they knew when the army of the greatest nation of earth arrived the reign of terror they had lived under was soon to end.. But others, far too many others, saw his presence as an uninvited invasion to rip control from the hands of their leaders and to give it instead to bumbling politicians who because of greed or incompetence failed to make it in past but now were given authority in a distant land. More than once he had taken up arms to defend his country against these misguided terrorist. People who would sacrifice they own people in order to maim or kill one of his men. And in honesty too many times he had raised his weapon to protect one of those inept leaders from back home.
In fact, this morning, as he stares at his uniform, he has once again been assigned the task of babysitting one such leader.
Over the last few years he had risen through the ranks, and now her was in charge 80 soldiers. He had received orders to escort this foolish political creature to the capital of yet another rebellious country to insure the peace, and to make matters worse, it is during one of their most important religious holidays. He and his men had come in during the night, and he had been too tired to read the orders closely.
He remembered, this time the city is named Jerusalem, and the religious festival is the Passover.
Markus recalled the legionary tell them in a briefing to expect over a million people to visit Jerusalem this week. Over a million people crammed into the dirty narrow streets of this city. It was a riot waiting to happen.
Markus slipped on the uniform and walked out onto the make sift parade grounds. His troops were just waking. The orangeish-yellow glow of the raising sun reflected off his armor as he approached them. Markus could tell by the nervousness in their voices, and the way everything hushed as he got closer they feared the worse.
“Good Morning,” Markus managed with bogus cheer.
“Have you heard how many people are coming to this thing,” Pollia, a leader of a tent party, or eight men, asked.
“We were told to expect about a million,” Markus replied.
He watched as the their faces clouded with fear.
Fear or not, they had a job to do, they had a job to do. He rallied his eighty men and they joined the rest of the cohort or 480 and presented themselves to Pilate the governor.
The festival was going well, a few minor fights to break up, and of course crowd control issues, but nothing to really difficult to handle. That was until Friday morning.
Friday morning, as the troops assembled, Markus saw a disturbance in the court yard. It seemed the religious leaders from this backwater territory were bringing a criminal in to be judged by Pilate.
Markus listened to see if he could hear what was going on.
Pilate walks over to this poor peasant and asked him, ““Are you the king of the Jews?”
Markus knows this is not good. This is going to end badly. He cannot believe his ears when this man, obviously beaten before during the night, stands there in blood stained clothes, softly replies, ““Yes, it is as you say>”
Markus expects an explosion of anger from Pilate, but instead the governor simple ask a second question. “What do you have to say about the changes against you?”
He can hear the chief priest claiming this Jesus was trying to lead a rebellion against Rome.
Now, Markus though, he will defend himself.
He listened, even the Chief priest and leaders stood silent, what defense would he put forward.
Would he claim it was all a mistake. Or maybe he would scream out about the injustice of the Romans.
They all waited.
The silence seemed out of place in the midst of the busy city. But it was like you just had to wait, to listen, there was something about this stranger, that made you hang of his every word.
But he was silent. They waited. They watched. But still he said nothing.
The silence in the court yard was deafening.
After a few minutes finally Pilate broke the uncomfortable silence.
The governor turned to the gathering crowd and said “It has become my custom to release one of your prisoners to you during this feast, which one do you want me to release to you, Barabbas, or this Jesus who is called the Christ?”
Markus was shocked by act of compassion from Pilate; or maybe Pilate also saw something in this Jesus.
“Barabbas!” they cried.
It started out soft but the volume began to grow.
“Barabbas, Barabbas, Barbbbas,” each time it was said it became louder and lourder until Markus was unable to hear even the man next to him. This was turning to an ugly demonstration.
Pilate raised his hand, and crowd slowly quited.
“What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called Christ?” Pilate asked.
The mob yelled, “Crucify him!”
Markus cringed, crucifixation, why, what has he done that deserves that kind of inhumane death.
“Why, What crime has he committed?” Pilate had asked the questions that plagued Markus.
But that throng of people would not listen to reason.
They shrieked louder and louder, “Crucify him, crucify him.”
“Markus, report!” the leader of the cohort bellowed over the den of voices.
Markus seem transfixed by the drama unfolding before, unable to move.
“Markus!” again Lucius Julius, his commander officers roared.
Markus, shaken, reported.
“Pilate has ordered this rebel flogged,” Lucius said, “your men see to it.” He paused and then added, “lets make an example of this one.”
Markus knew all to well what that meant.
Lucius had joined the same time Markus had, if fact they were from the same home town, but because of Lucius sadistic thrill with inflecting pain, he was seen as a better Roman officers.
Markus gathered his troop and conducted Jesus to the palace. Markus watched as thee entire cohort, all 480 soldiers gathered around this defenseless man.
One of them said, “so this is the king of the Jews.”
They broke out in laughter.
“Wait a minute,” one of them said, “every King has a robe..” Grabbing a old torn purple robe from a corner of the room he throw it over Jesus back.
“Give me a minute, I will be right back,” said Crossus one of the crulist men Markus has every met. He ran out side and returned a few minutes later with branches from the ever present throne bushes. He began bend and twist the thorny limb until it form a circle, “we must not forget his crown, he said with sadistic glee and forced it down on this prisoners head.
The blood began to run from the thorn inflicted wounds and form little rivers of dark red pouring from his forehead and down his checks.
Not to be out done, Lucius picked up a discarded staff and placed it in Jesus right hand, and knelt down, “Hail, king of the Jews.”
Everyone else follow suit as they bowed in mock honor and roared with laughter saying, “Hail, king of the Jews.”
Lucius snatched the staff from his hand and in fit of rage he began to beat the crown of thorns down on to his tender head.
After he had vented his anger he yelled, “Markus, now it your turn, show him the wrath of Rome.”
Lucius had always been second string to Markus growing up, but now that he is the commander, he loves to lord it over Markus.
Markus gave the order to flog Jesus, his men, get up off their knees, stop laughing and set to work. They rip the crown him his head inflicting as much pain as possible to the hoots and cheers of their fellow soldiers. Next is the robe, which is cast into a corner.
Jesus was stripped, his hands tied behind him and then he tied to a post with his back bent double, this made the flogging more painful. Crossus steps forward with lash. It is make up of leather thong studded with sharp pieces of bone and pellets of lead.
Many prisioners never lived through the beating.
Crossus had saved many a criminal from the cross by killing him with the whip.
Following the flogging Markus led Jesus out to be crucified.
Four soldiers pickup the cross beam of the cross and dropped it on bleeding back of Jesus.
They begin the long walk out of the city to Golgotha. Crossus continues to flog Jesus every time he stubbles. Markus watches as the effects of the beating the weight of the cross finally over come the bent and broken man and he collapses.
“Too heavy for you,” Lucius taunts.
“Just because you are too weak to carry your load, you are not going to cheat us out of a crucifixation,” he said. Then he grabs a stranger and forces him to carry the crossbeam.
At the top of the hill Jesus was laid down on the ground.
Markus marveled, they did not need four or five soldiers to hold him down, he just laid there.
Lucius, came from the base of the hill carring a hammer.
“We want to make sure the King of Jews does not fall from his cross. If you want to make sure something stays where you put it what do you do he asked?”
Crossus grining said, “You nail it down.”
“Right,” Lucius replied, and produced nails from inside his tonic. He placed the point of the nail in the flesh of Jesus, drew back the hammer over his head, and roard, “you nail it down.” With all the force he had he drove the nail through his hand and into the wood of the crossbeam.
“Jesus sreamed out in pain,” but then nothing. No ranting, no cursing, no accusing, nothing.
Markus realized this one was different.
With every nail the ritual was the same. Lucius would yell, “what do you do?” As you soldiers yelled in unison, “Nail it down,” Lucius would drive the nail through the tender flesh. Jesus would jerk with pain and scream, then nothing.
“This one was different.”
Finally Jesus was spiked to the cross.
Markus ordered it lefted and dropped into the hole prepared for it.
“So much for the King of Jews,” Lucius sneered. All the other soldiers laughed. One said, “he is not going anywhere because we nailed him down.” That brought another burst of laughter. And everyone was laughing, the Romans, the Jewish leaders, and even the bystanders. Eveyone but Markus.
Markus was not laughing because he was mesmerized as he looked into the eyes of Jesus. He had seen hundreds of men hanging from a cross. He has looking to their eyes and seen, hatred, fear, and even resignation. But as he staring into Jesus eyes he saw something he had never seen before, there was no fear, no hate, no surrender. Markus could not believe it but seemed like he was seeing in the eyes of the man he had just beaten and crucified, mercy; it was as if his dark eyes were communicating forgiveness.
Then, to Markus surprise the man who had been silent through all the humiliation and torture spoke. Markus could not believe his ears. This man just said, ‘Father forgive them for their know not what they do.”
Was Jesus offering to Markus forgiveness, was he extending grace. It could not be, but then his eyes caught the look in Jesus’s eyes. He had been forgiven.
Markus back up at Jesus and then around to those about him and said, “Truly this is the Son of God.”
Markus, who led in the torture and humiliation of Jesus now stood before the cross forgiven.
And so can you. There is nothing you have done in this life that can keep
