It is good that we are here this day.  We are coming to the cross today in a way that is unlike any other day.  Were you to say to me this Good Friday, “Tell me about your God?”   Were you to ask me today, “What is your God like?”, I would point to the cross and say, “God is like that.  At the cross this day is a good place to be, dear church family. We are at the heart of the matter here today.  The crux of the matter, literally.  The crucial matter.  Throughout the season of Lent, we’ve been considering the question “What kind of king is this Jesus?”   “What kind of kingdom is this?”  We come to the cross today with the prayer of Bartimaeus echoing, “My teacher, let me see again.”  We come to the cross today with Jesus’ words echoing – “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

What kind of king is this?  One who is steadfastly devoted to the will of his Father.  Even in Gethsemane, when all desert him.  Even in the face of lies being told about him before the Council.  Even in the face of mocking and scorn.  This is Jesus who invites us to follow him.  We may fail him, but his mercy is unfailing.  We don’t come to him or approach his table based on any righteousness or faithfulness of our own, but throwing ourselves on his righteousness and his faithfulness and his mercy.  There are glimmers of light even in the dark of today’s story.    Jesus’ followers have fled.  Peter has denied him.  At the same time, Simon from Cyrene literally takes up the cross and follows Jesus.  At the same time, the women who have followed him from Galilee look on from a distance (and we’ll meet them again).  We continue to look to Jesus and to listen to him as he answers the Council’s question.  “Are you the Messiah, the chosen one, the anointed one, the Son of the Blessed One?”  “I am,” replies Jesus.  His Messiah-ship, his Son-ship, will not be shown in a display of power over the ruling Romans.  When the ruling Roman representative, Pilate, asks Jesus, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus answers, “You say so.”  This is not just a way to sidestep the question.  It’s as if Jesus is saying, “I am, but not in the way you understand.” 

Jesus is a revolutionary, but not in the way Pilate might think.  Jesus’ kingship/power/authority stands in direct opposition to how the world views power and authority.  It is not based on forcing others to bend to the will of those ruling.  It is not based on threats of violence or acts of violence.  It does not commit injustice against the innocent in the name of keeping the peace.  It is not rooted in envy and jealousy and a desire to cling to power at any cost. 

How sick are we of those ways of power, particularly in our day?

These scenes Mark describes are so full of irony.  The Roman soldiers put a purple cloak on Jesus, not realizing that a royal cloak is perfectly fitting.  The soldiers kneel down in homage to Jesus, not knowing that this is exactly the good and right and fitting and proper response to the King of kings.  Beyond the irony, though, is this truth.  Jesus’ royalty is going to be displayed from a cross.  Jesus’ royalty is going to be demonstrated in self-denying, self-sacrificing love and mercy.  Someone has said, “Jesus exercises power through weakness and authority through love, thereby revealing in revolutionary terms the way the ultimate Power… (of God) works.”

The religious authorities, the chief priests and the scribes thought that the way to power and authority was through self-preservation.  They understand humanity’s need for saving, for help.  Absolutely.   “He saved others,” they say.  But here is where we go wrong – “He saved others, he cannot save himself.  Let the Messiah, the King of Israel, come down from the cross now, so that we may see and believe.”

Here’s the thing, though.  “So that we may see,” they say.  We want to see.  We’re still remembering that prayer, “Lord, let me see again.”  In the power and authority of the self-giving love of the Son of God, Jesus is saving because he is not coming down from the cross. The crux of the matter.  Darkness coming over the whole land.   Jesus cry of abandonment, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  In some unexplainable way, Jesus, knowing abandonment by God, yet even in those moments still claiming God as his own, devoted to God, refusing to let go of God even when God is being experienced as absent.  “My God, my God.”  Jesus giving a loud cry and breathing his last.  The temple curtain was torn in two, and we remember the day when the heavens were split apart, and the Holy Spirit descended like a dove on the one of whom the voice of God said, “You are my Son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased.”   These words echoed by a Roman soldier (of all people) looking on at all that had happened and coming out with this wonderful statement of faith – “Truly this man was God’s Son!”

Joseph of Arimathea boldly goes to Pilate and asks for Jesus’ body. “When he (Pilate) learned from the centurion that he was dead, he granted the body to Joseph.  Then Joseph bought a linen cloth, and taking down the body, wrapped it in the linen cloth, and laid it in the tomb that had been hewn out of the rock.  He then rolled a stone against the door of the tomb.” (15:45-46)  One seemingly final act of reverence and respect and love.  If you have ever stood at an open graveside, is there anything in the world that speaks more of finality?  Here’s the thing about Joseph of Arimathea: he was “a respected member of the council, who was also himself waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God” (15:43). To follow Christ is to live in confident expectation.  I say “seemingly final” because this is not the end.  We remember that Peter’s failure was followed by bitter tears of remorse.  His failure will not be the end of Peter’s story.  We remember that the women who followed Jesus from Galilee are still looking on, as we still look on.  We remember Jesus’ promise of new life on the third day.  New life in Jesus is offered to all. May the centurion’s confession of faith be ours – “Truly, this man was God’s Son!”  Let this be the cry of our hearts, this and every day.  Let us show our trust in him today as we gather at the table of our King.

Amen