(6 p m ‘Thursday’ to 6 p m Friday)
LESSON 8: Jesus’ trials and scourgings
April 17, 2010
Reading for today:
Matthew 26:57-27:31
Mark 14:53-15:20
Luke 22:54-23:15
John 18:12,13, 19-24
John 11:49-51
I’ve never done research to support the claim that all of Jesus’ trial process was illegal – that claim is so conspicuously logical I haven’t checked it out. I just believe it. His captors came under the cover of night rather in broad daylight where the crowds of Palm Sunday would see and perhaps come to his defense – and then the ‘where there’s smoke there must be fire’ mentality apparently took over….
When we last saw Jesus, the guards had bound him in the garden on the Mount of Olives – and were leading him back to the city.
The four gospels do not agree precisely on all the details. I spent many hours yesterday and today trying to piece them all together to make all of it fit. I finally gave up. I decided each has merit. Each author shares the story as he heard it told, and each touches the most important points – so I am bailing out on my intent to create a precise probable linear sequence of what Jesus endured.
What I do glean from the gospels is that in the early morning hours of +-April 3, 33 A D, when people should have been sleeping – and most of Jerusalem was sleeping – the High Priest, Caiaphas; his father-in-law, Annas; all of the chief priests, teachers of the law, and scribes – those lovely Pharisees and Sadducees Jesus came into conflict with so pointedly during his time on earth – had ‘their time,’ their opportunity to wield their pent-up misplaced power. They manipulated the Roman Governor, Pilate, into helping them carry out their evil plot.
When Pilate learned Jesus was a Galilean, he sent him to Herod, who was, ‘coincidentally,’ in Jerusalem at that time. Herod had wanted to meet Jesus, but Jesus didn’t answer his questions. So, Herod and his soldiers ridiculed and mocked Jesus. Pilate tried to use Herod as his scapegoat – but got the hot potato thrown right back into his lap.
Pilate’s wife even sent Pilate a message, warning him to stay out of it because of a horrible dream she had.
All of the chief priests and the Sanhedrin were seeking evidence against Jesus so they could put him to death, but they couldn’t find any. Luke even tells us some of the accusations: that they had found Jesus subverting their nation; that he opposed payment of taxes to Caesar; that he claimed to be Christ. Claims he was against the Jewish nation; against the Roman Government; against God. What a progression of claims. The first two accusations are blatant lies; the third is absolutely true.
Then false witnesses brought claims that Jesus had said he was going to destroy the temple and in three days would build another, not made by man – but even their testimonies weren’t in agreement. Jesus refused to even reply to their baseless claims.
Caiaphas asked Jesus directly, “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One?”
“I am,” said Jesus, “And you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven.”
Jesus didn’t respond to many of their questions – but he said enough. They had a chance to hear truth from Truth Himself – and they rejected it – and him.
Pilate questioned him and asked, “Are you the King of the Jews?
“Yes, it is as you say,” Jesus replied.
Pilate never did find reason why Jesus should be held – but he gave in to the will of those shouting ‘Crucify Him,’ washed his hands of all responsibility before them, released Barabbas at their bidding, and released Jesus to their will. John tells us it was about 6 a m when Pilate gave Jesus to his accusers, saying “Here is your King.”
But they wanted death.
In the early morning, the chief priests, elders and teachers of the law convened for a quick consensus: they condemned Jesus as worthy of death. He was dressed in a robe fit for royalty, a mock ‘crown’ made of thorns was woven together and placed on his head. The soldiers put a staff in his right hand and kneeling in front of him, mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews.” Then they spit on him and took the staff and struck him on the head repeatedly, driving the thorns deep into his flesh. He was hit with fists while he was blind-folded, the perps playing a game of ‘Hey Jesus, prophesy who hit you;’ then the guards removed his royal robe, took him and beat him. Their beating was no schoolyard beating. We are told from history that the beating was with whips imbedded with sharp metal and rocks and sharpened hooks that tore the flesh from the bone. It was brutal. The images sicken me. It is too hard and too graphic to write about.
After they had mocked him, they led him away to be crucified.
Meanwhile, while Jesus was being tried before Caiaphas, Peter stood by the fire in the courtyard, having been invited in because John was known to the high priest. It was there, while awaiting the outcome of the first level of Jesus’ being tried that night, that Peter denied he knew Jesus – not just once, but three times – just as Jesus had told him would happen.
Dawn came. The rooster crowed. Jesus was condemned to die. Good Friday? Not for him!
Sharing today:
I have written and re-written. This is the only day I have gone through so much challenge with what I would put into the blog. Usually I just start writing – and whatever flows from my fingers to the computer is what gets sent. Today was not that easy. I knew this was going to be a lot of material to cover, so I started early. I wrote several pages yesterday, melding the four gospels to try to blend what they each share. Then, this morning, first thing, I received a very sad call, telling me of the death of a lovely lady who died last night, losing her battle with pancreatic cancer – and losing the hope of many that she would be miraculously healed. I really wanted this one. God does heal. I’ve heard many testify to that reality – and have experienced his intervention and healing in my own life – physically, spiritually and emotionally.
I am disappointed that the script I wanted was not the one God is writing – yet beneath the sadness of the loss, which is most of all sadness for the grief for her family and dearest friends, I am filled with hope. Hope that doesn’t disappoint. Today she is free of pain. Jesus Himself mourns with those who mourn – and He will hold them close to his heart through their levels of grief.
It is also a reminder that we are called to come alongside – to offer loving help to those who need help, to mourn with those who mourn, to share joy with those who share joy.
Homegoing for a seasoned saint who has lived long and well, and is ready to meet the Master is a celebration. Homegoing for a wonderful saint who is too young – but who has lived well and died ready – also deserves to be celebrated. Somehow it is harder to get past the pain and to the celebration. She’ll be terribly missed.
Last night I attended the Olympia Choral Society musical re-enactment of THE CIVIL WAR. It was absolutely compelling. I had never absorbed what happened during the Civil War so personally before. It was humorous, sad, tender, informing, real. It conveyed realities I never learned in school. It made me laugh. It made me cry. But it was a good kind of crying because I could leave with hugs and kudos to the participants and be grateful for the gift they had provided.
I got to see a lot of people I have missed seeing. That was also good. And I was so proud of people I know who are part of the production.
This morning’s sorrow is not the same right now. I am still processing. It made it hard to write with clarity, the reality of the early morning call lingering all day as I try to formulate thought.
But our hope is secure. Jesus conquered death, rose again from the grave, and we who die in the Lord will be raised again - with Him - at the resurrection. I’ve been walking this journey with Jesus these few weeks, trying to live with him what he was living then. Today that and the poignant reminder of others’ very palpable grief are mingled together. It is appropriate that on a day we were to have had sunshine, God is crying with them. I can only pray for the comfort of the Holy Spirit to be with those who grieve – to hold them close and give them a peace beyond understanding. I know that Joy comes in the morning. May it be so.
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