Midweek Lent – Pr. Faugstad homily
Text: St. Mark 15:16-20

In Christ Jesus, who in great humility hid His power and glory, so that He might suffer and die in our place, dear fellow redeemed:

What the soldiers said was perfectly correct: “Hail, King of the Jews!” “Hail” was a positive and proper greeting. And Jesus was “King of the Jews,” at least in a certain respect. He was a descendant from the line of the great King David, and His reign had been prophesied all through the Old Testament. Earlier that Holy Week, Jesus had told the religious leaders that He was both David’s Son and David’s Lord (Mat. 22:41-45). He was David’s Son according to His human nature, and He was David’s Lord according to His divine nature.

But Jesus was more than the King of the Jews. The book of Revelation refers to Him as “King of kings and Lord of lords” (19:16; 17:14). He is King over all. He spoke everything into existence in the beginning, and “he upholds the universe by the word of his power” (Heb. 1:3). In Psalm 2, God the Father Almighty declares, “I have set my King on Zion, my holy hill” (v. 6). Then He says to this King, His eternal Son, “Ask of me, and I will make the nations your heritage, and the ends of the earth your possession. You shall break them with a rod of iron and dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel” (vv. 7-8). In Psalm 110, the Father says to Him, “Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool” (v. 1).

That is powerful language about a powerful king. But Jesus hardly looked the part on this day, the day of His arrest and His trial before Pontius Pilate. Pilate was showing his own weakness as he presided over a trial he wanted nothing to do with. He had no special compassion toward Jesus. Jesus was a Jew, and the Romans disliked the Jews. This Roman governor and the battalion of Roman soldiers would have much rather been about anywhere else, not watching over this annoying, unruly people. Now things were even worse, since the city of Jerusalem had filled with Jews who had traveled from all directions to celebrate the Passover.

In Jesus, the Roman soldiers found an outlet for their disgust of this people. Supposedly He was an important Jew from what they were hearing, perhaps some sort of a king. Some of the soldiers had already scourged Him leaving deep cuts all over His back and sides. But neither these wounds nor the bruising and swelling on His face would keep them from inflicting more pain on Him. He had just been sentenced to die, so why shouldn’t the soldiers have some fun at His expense?

The soldiers who had charge of Him called together the whole battalion. A battalion was about 600 soldiers. This church could hardly fit a group of people that large. These men acted without restraint. It was mob rule, where anything goes. They dressed Jesus in a purple cloak. They made a crown out of thorns and pressed it into His skull. Then the soldiers took turns saluting Him, striking Him on the head, spitting on Him, and kneeling before Him in mock worship.

I can imagine six against one. I can’t imagine six hundred against one, each taking his turn. But in a certain sense, the number was actually higher, much, much higher—thousands against one, millions against one, billions against one. We must remember why Jesus was in this horrible situation. It was because of sin—not just the sins of the Jewish leaders who turned Him over to Pilate, not just the sins of the godless Romans, but because of your sins, my sins.

When we see the terrible actions of these Roman soldiers, it should not make us feel self-righteous. “Oh, I would never do something like that! I would not treat someone like that!” Instead we should picture ourselves among those violent soldiers, striking Jesus, spitting on Him, mocking Him. Our sin put Jesus in this situation. Our sin caused His suffering. Our sin sent Him to the cross.

The sins we have committed against God are every bit as serious and just as bad as what those soldiers did. We cannot wash our hands of Jesus’ suffering. We cannot say, “the Jews did that,” or “the Romans did that,” without also realizing, “I did that.” If you and I don’t understand our part in it, then we will not see Jesus for who He is or understand what He did for us. He was not simply a tragic figure who was dealt a bad hand. He was not a victim of unfortunate circumstances, caught in the middle of a race war against His will.

He was a Lamb that “goes uncomplaining forth, / The guilt of all men bearing; / And laden with the sins of earth, / None else the burden sharing! / Goes patient on, grows weak and faint, / To slaughter led without complaint, / That spotless life to offer; / Bears shame and stripes, and wounds and death, / Anguish and mockery, and saith, / ‘Willing all this I suffer’” (ELH #331, v. 1).

He, this totally innocent Man, this descendant of David’s royal line, this mighty King of kings—He suffered willingly. For the salvation of sinners—for your salvation—He let the thorns be driven into His head. He let the punches land. He let the spit run down His face. He let the mocking words enter His ears and sting His soul. He did all of it in perfect obedience to His Father’s will.

The prophet Isaiah recorded these words of the Son’s humble submission to His Father: “The Lord GOD has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious; I turned not backward. I gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard; I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting. But the Lord GOD helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame. He who vindicates me is near” (Isa. 50:5-8).

Jesus did not fight back. He did not say a word. The apostle Peter wrote, “When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly” (1Pe. 2:23). Perhaps this is why the soldiers grew tired of their game. Maybe they were beginning to feel guilt for their terrible actions. For all the abuse they had carried out on Jesus, He hadn’t spoken one word in anger or hurled one curse their way. He just took it.

He took it for their sake and for yours. He took it in order to spare you from the eternal suffering of hell, a suffering we all deserve. He received this punishment, so you would receive God’s grace and forgiveness.

We know that Jesus’ humble suffering made an impression on some of the soldiers. They saw how intensely He suffered, and how He bore it patiently. Then when nails were driven mercilessly into His hands and feet, they heard Him say, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luk. 23:34). So when the ground shook immediately after His death, a centurion and those who were with him cried out, “Truly this was the Son of God!” (Mat. 27:54)—“Certainly this man was innocent!” (Luk. 23:47).

Perhaps they also added the same words as before, but now with a holy awe: “Hail, King of the Jews!” We join them in praising this suffering Servant, this righteous King, the Savior of our souls.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

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(picture from “Ecce Homo” by Mateo Cerezo, 1650)