Jesus, let’s think about this. Now is your time, but it doesn’t have to be this way. You know what to do. Back off, let those holy frauds calm down a bit. Reorganize your plan. Yes, you are the Son of God. But this? Suffering, laying down your life at you call it? Acting the part of the sacrificial lamb? Why a bloody death of all things? Just tell people you will wipe their slates clean if they get behind you. No, this isn’t necessary. This doesn’t have to be. Why, oh God, why do you do this! Who in their right mind would follow a leader who acts the loser?

Shut up. This isn’t about success, at least as you know it. How could you? It’s never been done before; your strategic plans have nothing like it. By this point, what did you expect? Never was it said that Jesus ever bought into the go-along-to-get-along process of appeasement, a social greasing of the wheel. Jesus’ way is contrary, contrary in being a full reversal, opposite from expectations of achievement and contrary in how obstinate, stubborn, resolute he was in doing it. So for now, shut up.

Wine Becomes Blood

After breaking bread and lifting his cup with his closest friends, the hero no longer preaches, teaches or heals. He accepts that which he has come to do. Later, in a garden, he begs, cries, wails to God that his blood-filled cup be taken away. “Let this cup of suffering be taken away from me…” 

As a man, every cell of his being wants to run, flee, bolt, change this fate before him. He does not want to drink it, anxiety and anguish flooding his mind and body. “Yet, I want your will, not mine.”  Only because there is no other way this hope of the world known in the promise, “You will not die,” he drinks the cup of death and trouble.

Betrayed with a Kiss

The mob, religious leaders, and soldiers have their way, led by the traitor Judas. The conflict which had begun in one ancient garden builds to its impending climax in another. Judas acted. Was it from greed, disappointed ambition, a power play to force Jesus to act out and establish Israel as a contender among nations? Or had Judas at least heard, hoped that this new kingdom could be different, the kingdom of God? Whatever the struggle, in an ironic display of identification, he approaches Jesus, greeting him with a kiss.

Judgement

In a propulsion of events, Jesus is led through a dizzying series of trials and judges. The religious high council distorts, perverts, and falsifies his statements to charge him. Pilate, Roman governor of Jerusalem, tries to pass him off on Herod, governor of Galilee, but Jesus won’t satisfy him with a miracle show. Sent back to Pilate, a sweet deal is offered. 

Every year during Passover, a Jewish prisoner was released. Barabbas, murderer and insurrectionist, was the first candidate, but Pilate, finding no real evidence against Jesus, offers an exchange. Free Jesus instead of Barabbas. The mob, stirred up by the conspiracy story of the Temple leaders, won’t have it. Only his blood will satisfy.

Crucify him!

Pilate caves rather than risk a riot. A whip slashes Jesus’ back, a crown of thorns is pressed into his scalp, his cross is laid upon him, nails and sword are driven into his flesh and bone, and the one who was hoped to save the world is owned by the trouble of the world.

Pilate, having futilely tried to wash his hands of his part in this rigged execution, attempts to distance himself further. He orders a plaque displayed over Jesus: “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.”

See, can anything good could come from Nazareth?

As life seeped from his body, images may have flashed through his head. Days of preaching, teaching and healing, moments when his trouble kept a back seat as he reached in welcome the souls seeking new hope, new life. That day at the well he had offered his life of living water to a woman whom the world had used up and drained dry of whatever could be a better life. Now Jesus was the one who having given all he could now was the one who was depleted. For her and all those who had accepted his message, he gasped, “I thirst.”

Only mockery hears him. Soldiers offer him soured wine, not to numb his pain but to add to his sense of shame. For this trouble, he had lived, loved, and now met his destiny in the will of God. “It is finished.” His head bows.

“You will not die.” 

That lie separated the finest the creator made from being with creation. Trouble followed, and its pain surfaces despite all the efforts to stop it. Death comes. All will die.

Therein lies the trouble with Jesus. He dies by those who would hurt, harm, control the world, especially the weakest and most vulnerable. In just a few hours the Sabbath laws take effect: thou shalt not labor let alone prepare a dead body for burial. Mutilated and crushed, our fallen hero is carried to the cave, and a heavy stone is placed at the entrance to seal his lifeless body. The Light of the World is extinguished. Trouble is over, finally.

For him as well as ourselves, we bow our heads and sob.     

John 18 -19:42, Matthew 26-27, Luke 23

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