This post for Holy Week is taken from my ‘subversive commentary,’ The Challenger: Faith, Love, and Resistance in the Gospel of Mark.
The soldiers led Jesus into the palace courtyard, which is the Praetorium, and they called together the entire cohort. They clothed him in a purple robe, and twisted together a crown of thorns, which they placed upon his head. They saluted him, ‘Hail! King of the Jews!’ They repeatedly struck his head with a reed, spat upon him, and bowed before him as if in homage. When they were finished, they took off the purple cloak and put his own clothes back on him. Then they led him out to be crucified. They compelled a passerby, who had come from the country, to carry Jesus’ cross. This was Simon of Cyrene, the father of Alexander and Rufus. They brought him to the place called Golgotha, which means ‘skull place.’ They offered him wine mixed with myrrh to drink, but he refused to drink it. Then they crucified him. They divided his clothes among them, casting lots to determine what each should take. It was the third hour when they crucified him. An inscription of the cause was written over his head. It read, ‘The King of the Jews’ – Mark 15:16-26
‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ Pilate had asked. ‘You have said so,’ was Jesus’ reply, indicating that yes, he was indeed a king. Pilate, though frightened by the implications of such a claim made at Passover, surely laughed. What sort of king could Jesus possibly be? What would such a king’s kingdom look like? In this passage, Mark paints the picture for us, and it turns out, just as Jesus has said, both his kingship and his kingdom look like a cross.
We have all seen movies, or read books, in which a king receives his crown. Often, the coronation ceremony begins with a procession into the palace. Officials are gathered, decked out in full imperial splendor. The king is clothed in purple, the standard color of royalty. A crown is placed upon his head, and the assembly cries with one voice, ‘Hail to the King!’ Everyone kneels and remains in a posture of submission until signaled to rise, and then, the newly installed King is led out to address his people.
Mark’s description of what happens to Jesus makes clear that, to him, something similar occurs as Jesus is led away to be crucified. The elements are all there. Jesus is led into the palace. The entire cohort assembles. He is clothed in purple. A crown is placed upon his head. The cry goes forth, ‘Hail! King of the Jews!’ The assembly bows in homage. But it is not done in honor. It is all caricature. The soldiers who lead Jesus into the courtyard have just flogged him to within an inch of his life. The purple robe is drenched in the blood they have drawn. The crown is made of thorns, some of which penetrate Jesus’ skin, scraping his skull. The cry and the bow are derisive. Jesus is not led out to address his people in triumph. He is led out to be crucified.
Behold – the Coronation of the King!
As Jesus is led away, he even receives the assistance of a royal page. Normally, this would be a member of the court who trails behind the king, carrying the mantle of his cloak lest it become dirty. Jesus gets a peasant coming in from the countryside, compelled to carry his cross. Jesus has lost so much blood from the flogging that he cannot make it on his own. He is a pathetic sight for a king.
They arrive together, the King and his page, at the hill called Skull Place. Jesus is offered a drug, a singular gesture of mercy, to dull the pain that is to come. He refuses. He will face what is to come head on, with an alert mind and heart.
And so it happens. Mark describes it with the meager words, ‘they crucified him.’ Books have been written on the subject of crucifixion. It is a ghastly way to die, complete with bolts of searing pain and the slow process of asphyxiation. This is the final act of Jesus’ so-called ‘triumphal entry.’ In a Roman triumph, the conquering hero presides over the execution of the prisoners of war. In Christ’s triumph, the hero himself is executed, and in the most brutal way imaginable.
The cause of this execution is inscribed above Jesus’ head: ‘The King of the Jews.’ It is a warning to anyone who would dare challenge the authority of Rome. This is how the empire deals with those who defy it. In the eyes of the empire, and in those of everyone who looks on or passes by, it appears that once again, might is declared right. So sure of this are the representatives of empire that they play games as Jesus’ dies, casting lots for his clothes. It is just another day in the life of the empire. An upstart is defeated. The empire prevails. Violence triumphs over peace. The challenge of the Challenger is over.
But the perception is wrong. This is the Challenger’s greatest moment. This is the moment when he exposes the empire, and all the powers that sent him to the cross. Jesus, who refused the drug that would have dulled his senses, is the brave hero willing to pay the price to show the world another way. The forces arrayed against Jesus – empire, religion, and the demonic – are shown to be mere shadows, fearful cowards who kill anything they do not understand, anything that threatens their carefully constructed house of cards. Paul put the matter thusly: ‘he disarmed the powers of the world, made a public spectacle of them, and shamed them by triumphing over them at the cross.’[1] The cross is Jesus’ greatest and ongoing challenge to the powers of the world. From age to age, it continuously calls them out, exposing their violent, bullying ways, and calling anyone who will listen to follow another way, the way of love, peace, and sacrifice. The way that, as we shall see, always wins in the end.
The Coronation of Jesus may look like a bad joke. But it is a victory. It may appear to be pure foolishness, but it is in fact the power of God.[2] Therefore, as we who dare follow Jesus cast ourselves back to that fateful day and imagine the perceptions of those who thought it was the end of the Challenger’s way, we do not join them, nor do we give up on the cross and throw our lot in with empire. Instead, we celebrate the Coronation of our King.
Crown him the Lord of Peace!
Whose power a scepter sways,
From pole to pole that wars may cease,
And all be prayer and praise.
His reign shall know no end,
And round his pierced feet,
Fair flowers of paradise extend
Their fragrance ever sweet.[3]
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent
To read more of The Challenger, visit ‘Brent’s Books’ by clicking here.
[1] Colossians 2:15.
[2] See, 1 Corinthians 1:18.
[3] From the hymn, Crown Him with Many Crowns, by Matthew Bridges and Godfrey Thring.
