Our reading this morning, starts at the cross. Jesus has been tried, condemned, whipped, and crucified… Pilate as you know did not agree with the conviction and had washed his hands of the matter, handing Jesus over to the Soldiers and the crowd. And so we read in John 19: 19-24
19 Pilate had a notice prepared and fastened to the cross. It read: JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS. 20 Many of the Jews read this sign, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and the sign was written in Aramaic, Latin and Greek. 21 The chief priests of the Jews protested to Pilate, “Do not write ‘The King of the Jews,’ but that this man claimed to be king of the Jews.”
22 Pilate answered, “What I have written, I have written.”
23 When the soldiers crucified Jesus, they took his clothes, dividing them into four shares, one for each of them, with the undergarment remaining. This garment was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.
24 “Let’s not tear it,” they said to one another. “Let’s decide by lot who will get it.”
This happened that the scripture might be fulfilled which said,
So this is what the soldiers did.
My favourite Easter song starts with the haunting question of “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?” Peter Marshal wrote a sermon using those words as his title…
“Only as the nails were driven in did the shouting stop. There was a hush. Most of them were stunned … horrified … Even the hardest of them was silenced, and the thud of the hammer was faintly re-echoed from the city walls.
Mary the mother of Jesus, stopped her ears and closed her eyes. She could not bear the thud of the hammer. Simon of Cyrene from time to time wiped away his tears with the back of his hand… carrying a cross for the condemned changes a man. Peter stood on the fringe of the crowd blinded by hot tears that filled his eyes, while his very heart broke.
They hurled his own words back at Him, but they were barbs, dipped in venom and shot from snarling lips, like poisoned arrows.
“He saved others, But he can’t save himself. Yes he healed the cripples, yes, he gave sight to the blind. He made withered arms whole again. He even brought back the dead, but he cannot save himself.
Perform a miracle now miracle man! Come down from the cross and we’ll believe you. Aha, you would build the temple in three days… you who have nails in your hands, you have wood – go on and rebuild your temple.
If you are the Christ, come on down from the cross”
They shouted until they were hoarse.
The noise was so great that only a few of them standing near the Cross heard what He said when his lips moved in prayer: “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they do.”
Past his feet, through the blood and sweat that filled his eyes, he would have been able to catch a glimpse of a huddle of soldiers, and a flash of dice. The garment they played for would have been recognisable. His mother most likely would have made it for him as he left home, a seamless robe, worth gambling for.
The soldiers do not look up. They stop their ears to the shouts of the crowd, to the moans of the dying, to the cries of the family. This is just another day at the office.
Have you ever wondered how they could be playing in the sand while people die? Have you ever wondered how the soldiers could not have known what was happening? Have you considered the callousness that must have engulfed their hearts?
In looking at their reasons though, I found myself shocked that we sitting here this morning are perhaps not that different from those men.
One of the soldiers, a tanned and well decorated man in his 40’s is bored. He looks at his friends around him and yawns. He was part of the contingent that arrested this man last night so didn’t get much sleep. The sun is baking down, and in their armour the sweat pools and glistens on their faces. “I hope they go quickly” he thinks, not from any sense of compassion mind you. An early day would be great; he barely saw his wife and children this morning and would love to get home to them. The others were squabbling over some of the condemned men’s clothes – and it looked as though they might even tear the one garment. “Wait” he says, “Lets Gamble for it” as he reaches into his pocket for dice, Gambling would at least kill some of the time. Crucifixions were common place. In fact when Jesus was a teenager, there was a rebellion in Jerusalem and the Romans in response crucified 15 hundred of the insurrectionist along the 15 kilometre stretch leading to Jerusalem, one crucified man per every 10 meters. The stench would have filled Jerusalem for days.
Boredom is what caused some of the men to not even notice the man on the cross, when I said it was another day at the office it truly was just that. Another day; another crucifixion.
I was privileged enough to go on a Mission trip from this church to Mozambique about 8 years ago. We travelled through remote areas of the country with a generator, a projector and screen, and then in open fields near villages we would set up the Jesus Film where hundreds would gather at night to watch it. These were people in extreme poverty that had never heard the story of Jesus let alone seen a film.
What was incredible to see though was their reaction to the scourging and crucifixion. Many of them would weep openly and some would get so angry that they would stand and shout at the screen. In seeing that I realised that I had even become blasé about it all. Yes Jesus got crucified, but after seeing it Easter after Easter, it does get a little done you know? Perhaps we miss the message and the wonder of the cross simply because we have seen it one too many times. Familiarity causes many to miss the wonder of Easter.
A younger soldier spat to the ground in contempt. If he wins this garment he’ll burn it. The Jewish people disgusted him. His bitterness had grown up deep in his soul when his own brother, also a soldier was killed by one of these renegades when they knifed him in the street while he was on patrol. The instigators would often carry knives under their cloaks and cut soldiers as they brushed passed them in busy streets. He didn’t know what this Jesus character was all about – but hey, the more Jews they kill, the fewer that are left to despise.
Bitterness is a dangerous emotion. Scientists have proved that the emotion can actually produce a toxin in people bodies that make them sick. It often results in prejudice, resentment, racism, broken relationships, and ultimately anger at God.
In this soldier’s case, all Jews were evil because of what happened to his brother. And he was not alone as many of the Romans hated the Jews with a passion. Being posted to Palestine was seen as punishment… and many times it actually was. His hatred and prejudice led him to miss Christ, miss the wonder of what was happening in front of him. The most significant event in history was unfolding and he sat there seething.
Many of us too are holding onto some bitterness. Perhaps its anger at Christians because they have proven time and time again to be hypocritical and false. Perhaps its frustration with the Church for not doing things “right”, for not caring at a time when care was most needed. Perhaps it’s even anger at God for unanswered prayer, for pain, for loss. Bitterness clouds our view and can make us miss the wonders of Easter.
A third soldier’s eyes sparkled at the idea of gambling. He’d been eyeing the robe ever since they stripped it off the carpenter but knew that due to his rank he would never have gotten it. But now he was in with a chance! He crouched down with the others eyes fixed on the dice… it was his lucky day for sure.
Busyness is a major distraction from the cross. Our lives that are lived in pursuit of getting on top of things, getting ahead or even just getting by can make us miss the message of the cross. Can you imagine God, seeing grown men play in the sand while his son died for them? Can you imagine Jesus watching this charade through the blood in his eyes? When he prays for their forgiveness it’s not just for those he were hurling abuse at him. It was for those too busy to notice, those playing games and missing the immensity if the moment. It was for us as we get tied up in holiday plans, and work stress and dinner arrangements and let this season pass by without letting it change us. There is a story of a Missionary to China, who was placed in prison for a number of years. Once released he and his wife and two kids were placed under house arrest for many months while people from his home country lobbied for his family’s release back to the UK. Finally one day a soldier arrived at their door and told them they would be flown out the next day, and could take 100kgs with them. Now realise that this family had lived there for over a decade and so much debate ensued about what to take. The Missionary desperately wanted his computer and his records, while his wife was trying to figure out which clothes they would most need. The children had their favourite toys and games, and so much debating and sadly at times quarrelling ensued for the next 24 hours until finally, they had exactly 100kg of luggage boxed and waiting.
The soldier returned the next morning to collect them and ask “Have you weighed out your 100kgs?” “Yes” they replied pointing at their boxes. “Did you weigh the children?” And suddenly the quarrels about clothes and computers were meaningless.
Our priorities are sometimes so skewed, but because they fit into society’s norms we don’t even notice.
Busyness is a silent stealer of time, priorities and devotion.
A centurion stood watching these men as they finished up their game. Crucifixions had always bothered him, but were sadly part of the requirement for a soldier. Thankfully he had gotten to the stage where others could do the dirty work. This carpenter had unnerved him though. Perhaps it was something in his eyes, something in the devotion of his followers; he had heard him in the midst of pain murmur words of forgiveness for him, for those around. He stood there uncomfortably watching, waiting, wishing he could be anywhere else when suddenly Jesus opened his eyes and gave a loud cry. The gladness in his voice startled all who heard it, for it sounded like a shout of victory:
“It is finished. Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”
And with that cry the Carpenter died.
The Earth trembled beneath the Centurion’s feet and he found himself down on a knee with tears welling up in his eyes. He looked up at the dead man in wonder. “Truly” he whispered in horrified wonderment, “Truly, you are God’s son.”
Romans 10:9 reads “that if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”
That centurion was never the same. His belief made him stand out among the soldiers, and he was the one who didn’t miss it. Many historical novels speculate how he became a follower and spent his life sharing that moment with others.
This about about not letting Easter go by as just another holiday.
However if we allow boredom and familiarity to rob us of it, we will be looking at our watches instead of looking at the cross.
If we allow bitterness and prejudice to rob us of the devastation of Good Friday and the joy of Easter Sunday, we will be looking at others in contempt instead of at the Saviour in wonder.
If we allow busyness and distraction to rob us of the time of mourning and celebration, we will be looking at our mundane lives instead of worshipping a creator who loved the world so much that he sent his son to die for us.
This morning you have a choice of how you will approach the Easter Period. With Boredom, Bitterness, Busyness… or we can turn around like the Centurion and kneel at the cross in wonder, that it is God hanging there.
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