The King on the Cross
Feb. 14, 2021
As Jesus enters Jerusalem, what most stands out is the honor the people are showering him with. They look at this teacher and worker of miracles and they honor him as a king. He needs a donkey? They give it. He’s entering the city? They pave the way with their cloaks. They sing and dance and celebrate the salvation God is visiting upon his people at long last.
This whole last week of Jesus’ life is a fight for honor. Jesus grows in honor, and the religious leaders experience a corresponding diminishment in their own. They try to shame Jesus, asking him difficult questions to trip him up and ruin his image. See, he can’t answer simple questions! He’s not so great after all, is he? But with every wise response to intentionally tricky questions, his status in the eyes of the crowd only increases.
It’s this status that is so problematic. No one else in a long time has had such standing, and individuals with such high standing are often made king. But what happens when an individual is made an unauthorized king in the historical capital of a nation that is currently occupied by a Roman garrison, especially during a high religious festival? The king leads a movement that runs afoul the Romans, who put an end to the movement by destroying it and everyone involved—including the historical capital, with its temple.
So the religious leaders conspire to nip the revolution in the bud. Conveniently for them, the Romans were perfectly adept at such machinations. It goes like this—arrest the leader and publicly humiliate them in a way that ends in a gruesome death.
So there is Jesus, minding his Father’s business, and he’s arrested and beaten and mocked. He’s humiliated. You’re so great, are you? Then why were we able to arrest you so easily? Why are we able to beat you with rods? Why are we able to spit on you? Why is your only purple robe one we give you? Why is your only crown one of thorns?
And it just continues. On through the mock trial, through the public presentation in chains, where the mob would prefer a murderer over him, through the flogging. They abuse him so badly that he needs help to carry his cross.
Ah, the cross. That most effective tool of the Romans. First they make you carry it to the spot they will kill you. Then they use it to kill you, but slowly, publicly, so for a long time people can walk by and see you slowly die. So for a long time you can see those people looking at you—knowing you need help—and offering you none. The loneliness. The shame. There they hung our king, in an effort to prevent him from becoming king, accidentally bringing about his being made king, not by the crowds, but by God himself. Our king, scorned by men, despised by the people, but honored by God.
—John Coffey