300 men gathered in a courtyard in ancient Rome. They were soldiers. Soldiers who had seen a lot of bloodshed, had raped and pillaged, held people's fear in the palms of their hands.
300 men. If you are a guy and you've ever travelled with an all male sports team, worked in an all male environment, you will have a snippet of the group dynamic in the courtyard that day.
Conversations about various sexual conquests, macho freaking attitudes, coarser than coarse language, gloating about their muscles, how clever they are, who is the best at this, and the worst at that. You know, the type of guy behaviour that we all witness from time to time.
The road rage, righteousness of insecure male egos. We're proud and we're threatened at the same time. Humanist's would say that we are products of our instincts. That we are vying for the attention of the females of our species all the time and trying to knock the competition to one side. It's our way of expressing Darwin's "survival of the fittest". I'm not sure if that's a hundred percent true myself, but for all of us to be attractive to others is an important part of our social interactions.
Men generally want strength. Some men can live under the illusion that we are attractive if we are strong. Or we strive to be strong because we can instil fear in people. Our method of controlling our environment can be through intimidation.
You think you don't know what I mean because you go to school? How do you explain your school-bullies? It's a way of controlling, elevating self above others, for protection because people don't question the powerful. People see power and authority as being the same thing.
It's rare for anyone to argue with a bully. Take Moe, the school bully from Calvin and Hobbes: "Give me your lunch money or I'll hit you." It's how bank robbers operate (well according to the movies and why wouldn't they be real?). Robert de Niro breaking into a bank yelling and taking control of the situation, through violence, through clinical and methodical deployment of his plan and his gun. He tells everyone to get on the floor and if anyone doesn't comply he hits them swiftly in the head. People who are afraid will submit. And so in many respects power and authority are the same thing.
You might find it with your boss at work. They have the power to fire you at their whim. Well that's not true. You're protected by so many laws that it's difficult to actually dismiss someone-even if they're an egg. How many Christian people are working the stats over Easter-especially Easter Sunday, when it is their right by law, to not do so because of religious reasons? We all know that if we play the religious card the politically correct nation that we live in will respond spitefully. And we are afraid that our workplace will become a living hell. Fear is a primary driving force for us to both submit and try and gain power.
As we are disempowered in our jobs, we try to find power else where. It's what Fredrich Nietzsche talked about at the end of the 19th Century. All our primary motives are centred on a desire to exert our power:
"Power is the real motivator and explanation for people's actions"
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Nietzsche is very cynical. It's a very dim and negative perspective on human motivation, but one thing that's in line with Christian doctrine is that it acknowledges the intrinsically evil side to us. He is saying that everyone is not actually good, but driven by self.
So, add that to the mix of 300 soldiers pumped with testosterone. Each vying to be supreme. Each vying to be "the man." Each itching to be the funniest, the toughest, the scariest. Vin Diesel wannabees, saying their Schwarzenegger one liners. Grown men playing schoolboy politics. It was a freak show of floundering personalities, deflated egos, half pie self-understanding, petty dreams of grandeur.
Take that crowd of men who understood the idea of a chain of command intimately. Who knew that Caesar was not only their emperor, but also the conqueror of most of Europe, North Africa and this little country called Israel . . . these men who knew that Caesar was the most powerful man on earth, that he was in all effect, God, and even in the minds of many Roman's and Greeks, he was actually a divine being to whom you made sacrifice. A man who if he said to you, jump on your sword for me, you would. Such was his power, such was his control, such was his psychological stranglehold on people built upon enormous fear shrouded in the justice of fair pay. Take that crowd of men who understood this about their world and their nation, who were executors of the emperor's will, and throw a bloodied and scarred man who claims to be the king of the country they have conquered, throw him into the middle of them and watch what happens.
"Gentlemen : we are very honoured today for we are having a royal visit." And he threw the body of Jesus into the middle of the courtyard. It wouldn't have been a pretty sight for us westernised middle class types. But the simple fact is that he had been flogged 39 times with a whip like what is on screen. Every strike would tear skin off the back of the victim. It is not an exaggeration to say that Jesus' back was actually raw flesh and bleeding enormous quantities of blood. You don't see that in the pictures.
But the point here is not that Jesus was in agony, that's a path well trodden by many preachers. I don't want to dwell on that. What I want to dwell on is this : that what was thrown into the middle of that courtyard, was fragility. Jesus was absolutely fragile physically because he could hardly stand and Jesus was fragile because he was clearly not a king and therefore an object to be despised.
So from this mob of men a few got in on the act, started to use Jesus to feed their own deflated egos. It started slowly of course, as these things do, Jesus lying there pathetically as one of the soldiers walks up to him and makes some kind of comment. It's not funny, but it's a starting point. You always need one more unfunny but "desperately wanting to be part of the crowd" type person to get the ball rolling when involved in a group mock. They are not witty, but they compensate with higher than average boldness. This breaks the ice. Someone who feels sorry for the poor fool who just made an egg of himself, tries for a save and says some witty remark. This is the real opening for a group mock. So they all start to say things, and bit by bit the group gets involved. As the mocking group gets bigger and bigger, it starts to be un-cool to not be a part of it. So more people join in on this snowball waltz phenomenon. The comments are coming thick and fast now, a continuous barrage of quick remarks. The subtleties of irony start creeping in. Instead of saying "you're stupid" which is obvious and uncouth you say "you are so sharp" and roll your eyes. The soldiers were at this stage now. "Hail to the king!" they were saying. "Come on, your highness . . . grant me my wish . . ." and so the snowball gathered more and more momentum.
Someone sat Jesus up to give him more dignity. They were laughing at him as he slumped to one side too weak to bear his own weight, recovering from the scourging he had just had.
When the steam starts to run out of the taunting and jeering, the verbal abuse, it's time to get interactive with the mockee. Someone brought a purple robe to the party, another made a crown out of some thorny vine nearby. Twisted it around and then dressed Jesus like royalty. The robe didn't stay purple very long as the blood soaked through from his back. Someone brought a reed and put it in Jesus arms-Jesus couldn't really hold it. Jesus was now dressed as a king with painfully ironic and simple adornments. And the soldiers began to bow at his feet.
They had done this before. But this time it was different. This time they could do it without being afraid. They would look back at Jesus as they got up with a smile and they wouldn't see him. They would reach down into the recesses of their psyche and notice a difference. Their bruised egos would see a chance to heal, here in front of them through this mockery they could vent all their frustrations about being degraded by other soldiers, other commanders. They could take out all their vengeance on this one frail 'king' by simulating the motions but then putting in the final twist. You could see it behind this one man's eyes. All the hurt and all the humiliation of being in the army, signing your life away to a cause you are unsure of, being treated as a piece of machinery, one of the vast numbers of soldiers and the emperor's disposal. The fear inside of stepping out of line on pain of death. It was all there. It was his weakness, and he wanted to take it out on this man Jesus. His ego brewed hate and he scrunched his face up and spat at Jesus. And another man, grabbed the reed they had given him and started to smack Jesus around his head. Every blow hitting the crown of thorns that would pull and push at his flesh. And Jesus would slump down and they would pick him up. Hiding their disgust at themselves by laughing at this weak and barely living man.
The object of their hate and insecurity, their brief moment to try and build each other up at the expense of another. Their chance to wield power of someone with unrelenting brutality, they could make Jesus submit, they could make him do what they wanted. He was their plaything for a change and they used the opportunity to live like their commanders. They felt for a moment like their emperor. As they pushed and shoved and spat and jeered at Jesus.
Until they were so exhausted, each having their fill. They stripped the "king of the Jews" of his fake robes-peeling off the robe that was caked on to his back by blood and put his other clothes on. And the 300 men sent a few men to take Jesus away to the cross while they resumed their mundane duties after having a bit of fun.
A group of people gathered around a sideshow just outside of the city. There were a three crosses with men on them, crucified as was the custom for organised criminals. It was by the main highway, the Romans liked to crucify people next to the main roads as a warning to everyone to keep the peace or else. Generally it worked. But on either of Jesus were two men who were bandits. There was an eerie silence as people waited for the men to die. It was not the kind of thing you would hang around at for long, but you would go to have a peek. This was going to be hours of waiting and not many people were up for that unless you were intimately connected with the person being crucified.
A steady stream of people started to walk past Jesus. Some of them he recognised from his meetings. They shook their heads and they said to him:
"Hey. Some king you are. Look at yourself. How dare you come into our society and make public promises you couldn't keep. Do you remember Jesus? Do you remember the promises you made?
"Come to me all you who have burdens too much to bear and I will give you rest.
"I am the bread of life, consume my teaching and example and live forever.
"I will tear down your temple and rebuild it in three days.
"Jesus, I don't know if you've noticed, but you're hanging on a tree. You are not much of an example of living life to the full, and if that's what you mean by a full life, then I'm not into it. You are dying Jesus, it's all over.
"Do remember Jesus, that you claimed to be the son of God? I almost believed you for a moment there. I almost thought it could be true with all the miracles you performed. But it seems that this is just a bit too ironic for the son of God to be hanging up there, fixed like a wall hanging to a couple of hunks of wood.
"Dammit Jesus, I gave up my time and money for this cause . . . and look, you are a stupid failure. How could you if you were wise get yourself into this position?
"Where is your power now? Nothing has changed. Don't you get it Jesus? Nothing has changed. The Romans are still in control, the kingdom of Heaven-whatever that is-well that's not here. Show me your victory. This is your last chance. Show me!"
And you could imagine the tears of disappointment, the genuine feelings of being let down by someone you trusted, someone you were impressed by, someone you had hopes in. How else to cope? The wounded ego, thrashing about because it had been naˆØve, wanting to find healing. Venting its frustration out one more time on this man Jesus.
"Come on you stupid messiah." Cried out one of the criminals who was next to him. "come on, do your stuff. I know you did miracles. Do one now. Take us down and whisk us away to a new life. Save us from our agony." That a man even at the point of death would want to die with his ego intact is striking. That his last breaths were wasted on tough talk, mocking another person to make himself feel better. And he knew the law. He knew he was guilty of crime. he also knew there was no way out. I don't think he believed that Jesus could or would do that, well not entirely, there might have been a glimpse of part of him wanting to believe. In general though, he wanted to gain power in a powerless situation and he did that by mocking a weaker person.
Perhaps it is not odd that he would do it while he was on the cross. Maybe he could in his dying moments feel like the rest of the crowd, venting their anger and hurts at Jesus. Maybe he felt he would be accepted by society in his last moments. But the jeers and smart remarks weren't respected by the crowd. They just thought he was an idiot and were glad that he was going to die. "Come on Jesus you saviour of humanity", said the criminal who looking around for approval.
But the other criminal shouted back, "Shut up you fool. Don't you fear God's wrath? Look, we deserve this. We did many bad things to people and we are dying for our sins. This man has done nothing wrong. He is innocent. Leave him alone." And he said to Jesus "Remember me when you come into your kingdom." And Jesus said, "today you will be with in paradise."
The staggering thing about this entire story though is that Jesus could have stopped it. He could have gone to the cross without all this hullabaloo. He could have stopped the soldiers from mocking him by shutting their mouths like Daniel in the lions den. He could've paralysed them, he could have done any number of things, why did he let himself be mocked? Why did he let us do this stuff to him?
The issue is not whether Jesus needed to die for our sins or not, that's not the question. The question is why did Jesus put himself through all the mocking?
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I want to clear something up. God will not be mocked. Who has heard this phrase before?
This is a phrase that is found 3,170 times on the internet through a [Google Search], but not anywhere in the Bible. It is simply untrue. It implies that God's wrath will come upon anyone who mocks him. Indeed that is how it is used at the various websites on the net where well meaning Christians are trying to get some righteous point across. But it is not biblical. It is not in any of the translations I have come across and the verse it is based on is Galatians 6:7. It is simply "God is not mocked."
You might think I'm nit picking but there is a world of difference between the two. And the correct rendering of the phrase gives us insight into what happened here. God is not mocked tells us that God is not actually mocked when we mock him. He doesn't feel it, he's not hurt by it. His understanding of himself is perfect. How could we challenge it?
Mocking is a transaction. I put you down to build me up. It is through our challenge that we feel better, holier than that person because maybe we have seen something that they don't see. But the fact is that Jesus was not being mocked. He wasn't letting himself feel mocked because there was no challenge. There was nothing stupid about what was going on because everything was actually going to plan.
Remember the staggering words: "Jesus came to this earth not to be served but to serve." Jesus washed his disciples feet. And when he rose from the dead he cooked them breakfast. His serving us was not just before his death, but it was after as well.
Jesus went through the humiliating experiences leading up to the cross as he was resigning himself over to our control. He submitted himself completely to us and let us do our worst. And that we did very well. The extent of our capacity to be evil is seen clearly in the gospel stories of the Passion of Jesus-whether you are a Christian or not. Treachery surrounds every aspect of the betrayal, the trial and the crucifixion. We are horrible people at heart. And don't for a moment think that we are any better than they. If we were living back then, I'm sure many of us would have been excited by the gladiator games as much as they were.
But the incredible irony of the entire event is that Jesus' was the most powerful. Remember that he could have called on legions of angels to save him, he could have stopped everything and escaped, but he didn't. He went through with it. In his weakness his strength was revealed. If he had done anything other than what he did, he would not have been practising what he preached. Jesus became fragile and weak, because it was through that, that his strength was revealed. One of the crucified criminals saw this truth. He admitted his evil. And he simply said, "remember me when this is all over." He wasn't elevating self, he wasn't trying to patch a bruised ego, he saw that Jesus was who he said he was and he believed. And that was all it took for Jesus to accept him into heaven.
Through Jesus' weakness his strength was revealed. He chose to be weak, we didn't make him weak, he chose it. And the question for us is whether we make the same choice.