None of the gospels describes the actual crucifixion in detail. The details were well known; there was no point in dwelling on its horrors. But the gospels do tell what happened. Matthew begins with the fact that a man from the north African town of Cyrene was drafted by the soldiers of the execution detail to carry Jesus’ cross. His name was Simon. It was usual for a condemned person to carry his own cross. So if Simon was drafted, it can only have been because Jesus was too weakened by his scourging and beatings to do it. When he staggered and possibly fell, the soldiers seized upon the first able bodied man they could find, who just happened to be Simon.
Where do you go to find kings today? It is hard to find kings anywhere, because most have been replaced by presidents and other elected officials. Still, there a few kings left, and if you find them anywhere, you will find them in palaces. You do not find them in apartments or hovels, or walking down the street. The last place you would ever expect to find a king is on a cross. Yet here in Matthew 27 we find the King of kings, the ruler of the universe, occupying the lowest possible place that men in their baseness have devised. He is hanging on a cross of rough wood, beaten, bleeding, mocked, and left to die.
Well pick up where we left off with Charles Spurgeon yesterday: “Few, nowadays, will side with the truth their fathers bled for. The day for covenanting to follow Jesus through evil report and shame appears to have gone by. Yet, though men turn round upon us and say, ‘Do you call your gospel divine? Are you so preposterous as to believe that your religion comes from God and is to subdue the world’—we boldly answer: “Yes!”
The last verses of this section take the kingship theme a bit further. For Matthew reports that even after he had been flogged in preparation for the crucifixion, Jesus was given to the soldiers who mocked him mercilessly, placing a scarlet robe on his shoulders, a crown of thorns on his head, and a staff in his hand. Then they fell before him in mock homage, crying, “Hail, king of the Jews.” They spit on him and struck him on the head again and again. This was human nature in its most brutal and inhumane form. Yet even so theirs was an innocent brutality, if one can use that word. For it was a lesser sin than Pilates who sinned against his knowledge and responsibility, or the leaders’ who sinned against their law and knowledge of the Bible, or Judas’ who had betrayed his Lord.
Pilate was trapped by his own scheming. He had miscalculated. But his stubborn character still came through. He was caught, but he did not want to be defeated by the Jews religious rulers whom he obviously despised. He was defeated, but he did not give up. “What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called Christ” he demanded.
