“Christ’s
Passion: Crucified” Mark 15:16-36 June 8, 2008
SI: This morning come to the pinnacle of
Christ’s suffering—crucifixion.
No event has had greater
impact on human history
and no event so profoundly connects this
life to the life of the world to come
as the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.
INTRO: We were in Ft. Lauderdale this past spring break.
And while we were there, we
did what we always do in Ft. Lauderdale,
we drove past the old apartment building on
Commercial Blvd.
where we lived our first year as newlyweds.
But this time we said to each
other:
We will be married 20 years this June. Let’s see if we can get a look inside.
So I knocked on the door it
cracked open and I found a dark-eyed Brazilian man
staring at me. I quickly explained that we had lived here
when we first married,
were on vacation, passing by and would he
mind if we looked inside.
As I spoke, he was becoming
more and more guarded and when I finished
he said no and started to shut the door.
I suddenly realized that he
had not seen Allison standing there and he must have
thought I was some kind of weirdo trying to
get in his apartment.
So I said, Wait, don’t shut
the door! Here is my wife. Allison came around.
When he saw her his demeanor
changed.
He said, Oh, the wife, yes, and he opened
the door—and there it was
in all its glory. Our memories were refreshed as we took in all
the details—
the tiny front room, the doorway to the one
bedroom, the galley kitchen—
it was just as cramped and wonderful as we
remembered.
When we got back in the car,
we couldn’t stop talking about how great those
days were, and how much fun we had had, and
how in love we were—
until finally our children begged us to
change the subject because we were
grossing them out.
One thing lovers do is go
back to special places. Seeing those old
places—
restores
your memories, warms your heart and renews your love.
Lovers of Jesus Christ
should, on occasion, go back to that most special place—
the place outside Jerusalem called Golgotha
where Jesus was crucified.
We often go back to the cross
in prayer and meditation—
you probably do that every day, maybe even
many times a day.
But on occasion we ought to
actually go back to the historical account of his
crucifixion as it is recorded in the four
Gospels.
Because that’s where you see
the cross most clearly—in the story itself
as it comes from apostles and eyewitnesses,
through Holy Spirit.
Mark’s account of the
crucifixion is different from Luke’s and John’s.
In both Luke and John—Jesus speaks to
various people,
there is more commentary, fulfillment of
Scripture, Jesus’ words of forgiveness,
the salvation of the thief on the
cross.
But in Mark, Jesus does and
says almost nothing.
His only action his refusal to drink the
wine drugged with myrrh,
his only words his terrible cry of rejection.
He simply suffers—terribly
and silently.
Mark’s emphasis is clear—he
wanted Christians throughout the centuries
to read his account of the crucifixion and
see where Jesus’ love for us
brought him—to this terrible place of
substitution.
Where he stepped into our
place, took on himself our sin,
and suffered bitterly for it.
As lovers of Jesus we need to
go back to this special place—
and drink in those details once again, and
be reminded afresh that a man
shamed, despised and abandoned
is your key to eternal happiness and peace
with God.
There is so much here, we’re
just going to scratch the surface.
Two headings:
1.
What you should see in this special place.
2.
When you should go to this special place.
MP#1 What you
should see in this special place.
Mark actually says very
little about the physical details of the crucifixion.
In fact, did you notice—he
doesn’t even describe it at all.
He doesn’t say anything about him being held
down by soldiers,
nails being pounded through his hands and
feet.
He simply writes: “And they crucified him.”
But the details that Mark does supply catch
our attention and are intended
to show that the suffering of Christ went
far beyond the physical.
Three aspects of Christ’s
suffering are highlighted by Mark.
These are the things that lovers of Jesus
should see.
1. Jesus
suffered shame.
After he was crucified, Mark
says, almost as an aside:
“Dividing up his clothes, they cast lots to
see what each would get.”
Mark didn’t need to add more
details,
because a first century reader would know
exactly what this meant.
It was common practice for crucified
criminals to be stripped naked.
This is a detail of the
crucifixion that sacred artists never paint.
In every picture of Jesus on the cross,
there is always at least a scrap of cloth.
But the Bible says a lot
about clothes and nakedness.
Remember, when Adam and Eve ate
the forbidden fruit, they knew naked.
They hid from God, they made fig leaf aprons
to cover themselves.
Once they had stood naked and
unashamed before God and each other—
confident in their righteousness. But after they fall knew that the were not
right.
Jesus hung naked in full view
of all people passing by on way into the city.
He suffered the most terrible shame.
Why did he do it?
Listen to the words of the
Anglican Bishop J.C. Ryle.
He wrote this in answer to
the question:
Why did Jesus suffer the
shame of hanging naked on the cross
“It was that we, who have no righteousness
of our own, might be clothed in the perfect
righteousness of Christ and not stand naked
before God at the last day. It was done
so that
we, who are all defiled with sin, might have
a wedding garment, wherein we may sit down by
the side of angels, and not be ashamed.”
Jesus suffered shame so that
we could be righteous.
2. Jesus also suffered
contempt.
Luke and John, record little
displays of sympathy—for example—
women weeping in crowd, John and Mary at the
foot of the cross.
Mark focuses attention on the
unrelenting contempt of every person
Jesus faced as he went to the cross and then
hung there.
Starts with the Roman
soldiers who mocked him with crown of thorns,
and the robe. When they said, “Hail, king of the Jews” were
expressing
their contempt for Jews in general through
mockery of Jesus.
Mark also mentions that
“those who passed by hurled insults at him.”
Crucifixion took place right beside a road
into Jerusalem.
Jerusalemites out for morning
business, pilgrims coming to feast saw him.
Same people who had shouted, Hosannah, on
Monday now shouted insults.
Seeing him on the cross
filled them with disgust that they had cheered for him.
Couldn’t believe they had thought this man
would save them from Romans.
“So.
You who are going to destroy the temple and build it un three days,
come down from the cross and save yourself!”
Mark next mentions the
contempt of the religious leaders.
Interesting about their comments—unlike
passers-by, never addressed Jesus.
Contempt toward him so
great—spoke entirely in third person—talked about him.
“He saved others, but he can’t save himself. Let this Christ, this King of Israel come
down
now from the cross that we may see and
believe.”
Finally, Mark mentions the
two thieves.
We know from other Gospels, one of thieves
repented, defended Jesus.
But Mark focuses on fact that at beginning,
both heaped insults on him.
Jesus did not even have the
sympathy of his fellow sufferers.
Why did he experience this
contempt? Listen to J.C. Ryle again:
“It was that we, vile as we are, might have
glory, honor, and eternal life through faith in
Christ’s atonement. It was done that we might be received into
God’s kingdom with triumph
at the last day, and receive the crown of
glory that fadeth not away.”
He suffered contempt, so that
we get the glory and honor.
3. Jesus
suffered abandonment.
Jesus never complained about
what people did to him.
When they arrested him,
falsely accused him, abused him, mocked him, spit on
him, stripped him and crucified him he did
not cry out.
But what made him roar with
agony? What cry with a loud voice?
When he realized, God was gone.
God’s merciful presence was gone, the warmth
of his love was gone.
And he cried out, “My God, my
God, why have you forsaken me?”
When Jesus suffered God was
not absent. God was present.
But His merciful presence was gone.
The warmth of His love was gone.
His attentive ear was gone.
His fatherly aspect was gone.
All that remained was a
terrifying sense of God’s unmerciful wrath.
What would it be like to be
totally cut off from the goodness of God—
and to have his face turned toward you in
utter judgment?
It was so awful, that
darkness descended for three hours—
and the suffering of Jesus was hidden from
view.
Why did he suffer this
way? He was forsaken, so that you will
never be.
He suffered God’s wrath, he knew the
merciless justice in that darkness—
alone before the judge—
So that you will always have
the warmth of the
father’s love, and his attentive ear, and
his smiling face.
How do you usually see the
cross?
You usually see it as a
beautiful symbol.
You see it as jewelry around woman’s neck.
You see it in a stained glass window or on
the steeple on a church.
You see it embossed in gold on a Bible.
The cross should be
beautified. It is glorious.
But sometimes you need to go
back to the Gospels and see the shame,
the contempt, the abandonment that he
suffered for you.
You need to go back and read
the old words of those who where there—
and take in all the terrible and wonderful
details that will
restore your memory, warm your heart, and renew your faith.
That brings us to the next
point.
MP#2 When you
should go to this special place.
There are a number of
occasions when lovers go back to the special places.
And there are many times when it is good for
Christians to open their Bibles
and go back to the crucifixion—times of
temptation, times when sacrifice
required, even during times of success and
victory.
But I want to talk about the
one time when it is perhaps most important that
you go back to the cross and that is when you have suffered a great loss, a
great
tragedy,
hurt, or cruelty. In those times, you must go to that most special
place.
One of the wonderful
mysteries of the Christian faith is that
in times of deepest woe, when things are
dark, when evil seems strong—
Christians find help in the cross.
The sufferings of Jesus bring
the deepest comfort and hope.
In fact, when you read autobiographies of
Christians who have gone through
horrific suffering and evil, you always find
them turning to the cross.
I know many of you have read Corrie
ten Boom’s autobiography, The Hiding
Place.
She was a Dutch woman, arrested by the Nazis
for hiding Jews.
She and her sister Betsie
were sent to a concentration camp where Betsie died.
They had a little Bible with them that the
guards never found.
Corrie wrote:
Sometimes
I would slip the Bible from its little (sack) with hands that shook, so
mysterious had it become to me. It was
new; it had just been written. I
marveled sometimes that the ink was dry.
I had read a thousand times the story of Jesus’ arrest—how soldiers had
slapped Him, laughed at Him, flogged Him.
Now such happenings had faces and voices.
Fridays—the
recurrent humiliation of medical inspection.
We had to undress completely. We
were forbidden even to wrap ourselves in our own arms, but had to maintain our
erect, hands-at-sides position as we filed slowly past the grinning
guards. How there could have been any
pleasure in the sight of these stick-thin legs and hunger-bloated stomachs I
could not imagine. Surely there is no
more wretched sight than the human body unloved and uncared for.
But
it was one of these mornings while we were waiting, shivering in the corridor,
that yet another page in the Bible leapt into life for me. He hung naked on the cross. The paintings, the carved crucifixes showed
at least a scrap of cloth. But this, I
suddenly knew, was the respect and reverence of the artist. But oh—at the time itself, on that other
Friday morning—there had been no reverence.
No more than I saw in the faces around us now.
“Betsie,
they took His clothes too,” I whispered.
Ahead of me I heard a little gasp. “Oh, Corrie. And I never thanked Him.”
What
was it about the cross that helped Corrie and Betsie?
It was knowing that Jesus had suffered what
they were suffering.
He had suffered nakedness and shame and
mockery—for them.
So
often, the very pains you are suffering, you find in the Jesus’ crucifixion.
Sometimes there is a feeling that God has
abandoned you.
God, where were you when this awful thing
happened?
God, why didn’t you help me?
Why don’t you easy my pain?
In
spite of those prayers, it seems he is not answering.
Even
that experience of being abandoned by God, we find in Jesus’ crucifixion—
in his own cry of abandonment. And it is as you cling to that, and know he
suffered it too, that you find hope.
So
whatever you are suffering, you can look for it and find it in the cross.
But
I think the cross does even more than that—it not only assures us
that Jesus suffered what we suffered, it
give dignity and meaning to our suffering.
A
few months ago I mentioned Armando Valladares’ autobiography,
Against
All Hope. It’s on the book table.
Valladares
spent 22 years in the prison camps of communist Cuba.
Over
the course of those years, transferred from prison to prison,
he met many political prisoners.
One
of the most amazing men he met in prison was an elderly man
with white hair and brilliant blue eyes who
all the other prisoners called
“the Brother of the Faith.” He is real name was Gerardo.
But
his faith in Christ was so real, prisoners gave him this nickname.
Valladares
tells how over and over, at the times of greatest cruelty,
when prisoners being beaten to the ground by
sadistic guards—
the Brother of the Faith would cry out the
words of Jesus from the cross:
that are found in Luke’s account of the
crucifixion.
“Father,
forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
When
he would cry out, the other prisoners would be filled with faith.
And it was with those words on his lips that
he died.
How
do you end an story like this?
Listen to the way Armando Valladares ends
his autobiography.
As
he tries to sum up the essence of those 22 years in Castro’s prisons.
In
the midst of that apocalyptic vision of the most dreadful and horrifying
moments in my life, in the midst of the gray, ashy dust and the orgy of beating
and blood, a man emerged, the skeletal figure of a man wasted by hunger, with
white hair, blazing blue eyes, and a heart overflowing with love, raising his
arms to the invisible heaven and pleading for mercy for his executioners. “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what
they do.” And a burst of machine-gun
fire ripping open his breast.
Do
you see what he is saying.
It
was the crucifixion of Jesus Christ that gave meaning and dignity not only
to the suffering of these men but even to
their deaths.
It
was the words of Jesus Christ from the cross that gives victory over even
the most horrible things that people can do
to one another.
And so even though the story ends in death,
it ends in triumph.
And
isn’t this what we so often what an assurance of when we are suffering—
that it has a purpose. That something good will come of it.
That God is working out some higher and
greater end.
We
find that assurance in the cross.
Now,
Christ Covenant friends, if our Christian sisters and brothers
who have walked the paths of the most
extreme suffering
have given testimony that they have found
incredible strength
and comfort and dignity in the cross—then
you can too.
What
are you suffering?
What loss?
What cruelty or hurt?
Go to that special place.
Open
your Bible to the Gospels, turn to the last chapters—
drink in those details once again, and be
reminded afresh
that a man shamed, despised and abandoned
is your key to eternal happiness and peace
with God.
An
old hymn says:
“When
the woes of life o’ertake me, Hopes deceive and fears annoy,
Never
shall the cross forsake me: Lo! it glows
with peace and joy.