New Thoughts (11/29/12-11/30/12)
A very brief portion of Scripture seems likely to result in a relatively brief study. The bulk of that which I see to comment on here lies more in the realm of technicalities, so I shall attempt to cover those points quickly.
There are two items visible in this verse, the cross and the place. Both, it seems, are subjects of some small controversy and potential misrepresentation. Let me look first at the cross. What John describes here, the fact of Jesus bearing His own cross from the Pavement out to the site of His execution describes standard practice for Roman justice. Why, after all, should the soldier’s strength be spent in such labors? No. To bear that weight, particularly after the scourging, would add to the criminal’s suffering, and speed the process along in the long run. One quick point to note here: John’s account is not in disagreement with the Synoptics on this matter. The fact that Simon the Cyrene would soon be pressed into service to carry that cross instead does not change the state of affairs as they leave the Pavement. At that point, all is proceeding as it would for any such execution, which is only to be expected.
That said, there are aspects of this whole scene that suggest to me that we must take great care to shake our thoughts free of such cinematic depictions of Christ’s Passion as we have seen over the years. It has been surprising to me how much of my conception of this final day finds its sources in the movies rather than the Scriptures. I need to be careful, here, for it would be as easy to overreact and miss what Scripture says in my effort to shake free of those manufactured images. But, I have already noted a few such points. Pilate’s role, for example, is generally played without any sympathy for the man. Yet, I have seen how John certainly paints him in a relatively sympathetic light.
The matter of the crowds outside the Praetorium are also seemingly problematic. Recalling that the Sanhedrin met in secret for this trial, that they had so carefully arranged to keep the arrest of Jesus out of the news until it was over with, and the fact that they had brought Him to Pilate at the earliest possible moment, it’s highly unlikely that there were huge crowds out here yelling for the death of Jesus. More likely, at least as I see it currently, such crowds as were there were crowds bought and paid for much as Judas had been, much as those false witnesses before the Sanhedrin had been. They are enough to suggest to Pilate that there’s potential for some trouble, not so many as would lead him to worry about being overpowered. Would the whole city have been sufficient to that task? But, they have no particular stake in this trial. As I was noticing in the previous study, it is at least possible to read from John’s account that their willingness to play along with the priests faded fast after seeing Jesus scourged and bleeding.
Now, as we consider that final progress from judgment to punishment, it seems there may be yet more misconceptions that need to be eliminated. We typically see Jesus depicted as bearing the entirety of the cross, already assembled, as He made His way. While this has certain artistic merits, and assuredly makes the image more easily recognized, it is unlikely to be the reality of the situation. For one thing, to make the cross thus bearable, it would have to be much smaller than would have served the purpose. For another, even in that reduced size, the weight of the thing would have been beyond the capacity of the average healthy male to bear, let alone one who had just been whipped severely.
The NET offers some useful details regarding this. Although the term we are given for the cross is more literally a reference to a stake, suggesting perhaps impalement or some equally violent means of death, it is far more likely that the stake-like portion of the cross was already on site, already planted in its socket, and that Jesus bore only the crossbeam. It may well be that the uprights were left in place on a relatively permanent basis to save work. This is not specifically indicated, but suggests itself as a possibility.
I am of mixed opinion as to whether the overall result makes the event more or less agonizing to contemplate. I think of that most recent movie, where Jesus is shown being nailed hand and foot to the cross as it lies on the ground, and then it is hoisted upright and dropped into its socket. That shock as it hits home is shown to produce tearing pain above and beyond what must have already been happening. Well, the whole idea was to inflict death in a most painful way, so there’s no reason not to suppose they would find ways to maximize the effects. Except that, as the NET pointed out, the upright was ostensibly already in the ground.
So, how would that work? We know with certainty that His hands were indeed nailed to the beam, and His feet were assuredly nailed to that small platform attached to the upright. But, we do not know if this was done all at once. Given the description in the footnote, it would seem likely that He was first nailed to the beam, and then the beam hoisted to its place on the upright. How was it attached? I do not know, but certainly mechanisms could be imagined by which it could be done. Then, while He is left suspended from that upright (and you thought the jarring shock would hurt?), His feet would of necessity be seeking the support of that little platform, aiding the soldiers in applying the final hurt, as they fixed His feet in place.
I don’t know which would be the more agonizing. In plain point of fact, I find my thoughts desirous of moving off of this scene as soon as can be arranged. Death is not something to be contemplated or savored even in its most benign forms. There is that within us which naturally seeks to turn aside from it. We do not wish to look at it in our own future, nor do we care to dwell upon its encroachments on our past. Even, as I have been learning this week, when death touches a household pet, it shakes us. It creates an emotional sore that we do not wish to expose to further injury. It causes a sorrow that is almost unexpected in its intensity, and which continues to echo within our thoughts, much like the aftershocks of an earthquake. It’s not just an awareness of our own mortality, may not even take that into consideration at all. It is simply that death is, by its very nature, unpleasant. We would go so far as to say it’s unfair. But, we understand that it is the effect of sin, even if it is beyond us to understand how sin can apply to a dog. Through sin, death entered the world, and through this vile cross we begin to contemplate in earnest in this study, death is vanquished, eliminated from the world. Would that the finished work were visibly finished! Would that we had already reached that place where death and sorrow are no more. But, it is not in God’s plan for that to be just yet. So we remain, and we learn of sorrow and death, and we long the more for home.
There is one other interesting thing to note about this business of crucifixion, which is that it was something the Romans, and also the Greeks, imported. Where did they find the practice? They learned it from the Phoenicians. Isn’t that something? First the purple dye, now the wicked tool of death, come from this people. Well, now, where are the Phoenicians to be found? Why, they’re just to the west of Galilee, what we now recognize as Lebanon. The Phoenicians were the residents of Tyre and Sidon, and they were no friends to Israel. Indeed, they were the Canaanites, the very ones Israel was to have removed from the land when first it was given them after the Exodus. But, they did not. Here, then, might be seen the terrible cost of disobedience.
Do I read too much into it? Perhaps so. Yet, in so many ways the death of God’s Son is entirely a matter of the terrible cost of disobedience. It ought to strike us that it is the cost of our own disobedience. Much is made of the fact that Jesus would have died for us, even if the number of us was only one. Had it been only myself that needed saving, yet He would have gone through all of this on my behalf. Yes. It’s my disobedience that has led to this. By Israel’s long disobedience and compromise, the mechanism by which He died was available for the Romans to adopt. But, this, too, was by God’s design. The responsibility remains, but at the same time it could not have been any other way. It was needful for the methods of crucifixion to be available for Rome to learn, that Rome might have its proper place in the fulfillment of prophecy. Just as it was needful that Roman occupation prevented (at least by law) the application of stoning which would have been more suited to the charges leveled against Jesus. Not that those charges were legitimate, but given that they were the pretense, a Jewish legal system would have called for death by stoning. Use of the cross was unthinkable, as it would eventually become again. Yet, it remains intriguing to observe how history has been woven together by our Sovereign Lord so as to bring this critical moment to fruition.
Having considered the cross, let me consider the place. Here, there is an unanswerable controversy as to just what and where this Place of a Skull was. It seems to have reduced to a pair of competing theories, one connected to an old tale of Adam’s skull having been found in that location, the other suggesting it was the shape of the hill which provided the name. Of course, for the shape of the hill to have provided the name, there had to have been a hill, and nothing here requires any such geographic feature. At any rate, it seems the two camps each have their preferred site, the former finding it in that place marked by the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the latter pointing to Mount Moriah, because of its resemblance to a skull. Those of the former camp will note that skull-like features of that mount are features that were unlikely to have been present at the time of the crucifixion. Those of the latter camp will point out the fairy-tale quality of the Adam’s skull story (which none really deny anyway), and other such reasons to deem the traditional site unlikely.
It is easy to get caught up in this debate, but it is also fruitless. It is worth noting, I think, that nobody in Christendom seemed particularly concerned about this detail until the fourth century. Certainly, the Apostles, for all that they recite the events of this day, never so much as mention the location. It seems to me we might do well to take our cue from them. Oh, there might be some value to unearthing physical proof of the event, perhaps the inscription Pilate wrote out according to Scripture. What else could possibly be unearthed that would be construed as positive proof I can’t readily imagine.
The location is not the point. What is important about the location is already established. It was visible. It was outside the walls of Jerusalem as they stood in that era. It was a place known as the Place of a Skull. The name is interesting. The location, not so much. The name is interesting in this regard, that it is fitting. Let us even suppose that the tradition about Adam’s skull having been found here applies (and it has roots going back to Origen’s day) – the tradition, note, not the validity of the tradition.
That tradition held that the head of mankind’s first federal head had been found. It was the place he died, the price of original sin. Here, too, the second, the final federal head died, but He died not as the result of His own sins, rather to put paid to the sins of all whom He represented as federal head. The Place of a Skull, the head: and here Satan struck at the Head of all mankind. It is fitting. To be sure, Pilate had no intention of making the location so well suited to the Man. By no means! It is equally certain that the priests found no such significance, else they would surely have quibbled over the site as they did over Pilate’s chosen inscription. No! Not there! It makes too much of Him.
But God, as I am so often reminded, is in control of this whole pageant. It is not, in the end, Pilate who has chosen the site, but Father Himself. He will see to it that every least significance of what is happening is set out to His satisfaction. He chooses the Place of a Skull as the place upon which the Head of all mankind shall die. And, as the tomb is right here, as well, it is at this Place of a Skull, that the Head of all mankind arose in victory, the price paid, the sacrifice holy and acceptable in the Lord’s sight, the curse of Adam overturned, and Satan defeated once and for all. It matters not whether this was a head-shaped hill, or a hill at all. It matters that here Jesus died and rose again.
If I wish to find the critical significance of this verse, to see how it might apply to me, then I must, I think, turn to those disciples who were witness to the event. I questioned, in my preparations, whether they were there to witness the trial. As it happens in God’s Providence, Table Talk turned my attention to Acts 4 this morning, wherein we read of the trial of Peter and John before the Sanhedrin. I would turn our attention to Acts 4:13, which I’ll quote from the NASB. “Now as they observed the confidence of Peter and John, and understood that they were uneducated and untrained men, they were marveling, and began to recognize them as having been with Jesus.” Notice that last clause. They began to recognize that these two had been with Jesus. When? It’s not like they made a habit of attending those teaching sessions, and really, they’d only had this last week to observe anything first hand. It seems reasonable, then, to accept that at least Peter and John were there for the trial. We know they had been at the first trial before the Sanhedrin, although Peter was outside, staying on the borders, and he left early. But, if they were recognized, it seems more likely that it was because they were there outside the Praetorium as well, in the moments during which the priests were sealing their little victory.
And what would cause these two to stand out? Well, for one thing, they may have been among the very few who were not directly in the employ of the Sanhedrin. For another, I cannot but think their response to the event was somewhat out of step with everybody else. The priests, of course, are unswerving in their determination to see Jesus destroyed, so they gloat over Pilate’s capitulation and rail at him whenever he appears to be ruling against their wishes. The rest of the crowd, those I am supposing to be in the pay of the Sanhedrin, were lusty enough in their demands for the release of Barabbas, but seem to be growing quieter upon seeing Jesus bloodied by the whips. The mockery heaped upon a Jew by these Romans, added to the clear view of this wreck of a man seems to have throttled back their enthusiasm. But, then there are these two, Peter and John. And, what are they doing? How are they reacting?
Surely, they are stunned by events. It doesn’t matter how often Jesus spoke of what was coming. They’d never really taken it to heart. Recall Peter had even rebuked Him for suggesting such a thing. But, there’s good reason for their incredulity. They have seen what He can do. They’ve seen Jesus in action for the last three years, and they’ve seen Him doing the impossible repeatedly. Think about it. This is the Man Who spoke the seas and winds to silence when they had feared all was lost out in the boat. This was the Man Who had cast Legion out of that Gaderene man, when all those pigs to which the demons fled were thrown into the sea. This was the Man Who had fed thousands from near enough to nothing. This was the Man Who just this week spoke to a fig tree and Lo! That fig tree was dead. And, He’s going to be brought down by these guys? It’s unthinkable! One can understand His obedience to the temple order, for He will observe all that is proper in honoring the Father. But, what has that to do with Pilate, with Rome? He’s a King after all. He’s God’s Victorious Warrior! This is what they expect to see. Even at this late point, they’re expecting Him to act, to dispose of those who are persecuting Him as if they were no more than dust.
Yet, He has stood before them bloodied and bruised. What to make of that? And now, here He is, that beam laid across His ruined shoulders, His body showing the strain, and the soldiers all about Him, forcing Him on when He is flagging, laughing at His agony. Why has He not yet acted? Surely their confusion and dismay must have shown on their faces as they witness the start of this procession. And, it would seem, if I read that verse in Acts aright, that their dismay was noticed.
It would take time for them to process events. Of course it would. It would have taken us time, were we there. Who could accept it? What could one assume, with Him dead and buried, except that he had been played a fool these last few years? What sort of Messiah could He have been, if this is how it ends? So, we find that they had effectively given up, and gone back to life as they knew it before He called them. Might as well go fishing. Whatever that was, it’s over now, and we must get on with life. But, it wasn’t over, as they’d learn soon enough. It wasn’t over, and all was unfolding exactly as it must. What would come of it is that they would learn that this image of their Master and Savior bearing His cross was exactly as He had spoken to them. It was yet another case of the Teacher teaching by example. We cannot look at this without hearing His words. “Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple” (Lk 14:27). It may have stunned when first He spoke it. They may have failed to take His meaning, or supposed it to be nothing more than a particularly poignant image for His point. But, now? Now, it was real. Now the full extent of their commitment started to come clear.
As I said, it would take time. But, this image was seared upon the mind’s eye, as well it should have been. It would combine with those words. It would combine with those things He had said in warning them of this day, and giving them cause for hope in the midst of this greatest of trials. And, by His example here, amidst the soldiers, cross upon His shoulders, He led by example. He did not shrink back at what God was demanding of Him. He did not curse the heavens for the unfairness of it all. He did not protest His innocence. He had already set His will in subjection to Father above. Would that there were another way, Sir, but Thy will be done. And having settled that, He is now about one thing and one thing only: Thy will be done. If there was a time to count the cost, that time had already passed, and now the cost no longer mattered. There was only the goal.
His first disciples learned this lesson well. What we know of their end, these Apostles demonstrates how fully they took this to heart. There is no cost too high for furthering the Gospel. There is no sacrifice too great for bringing glory to our God. Peter, we read, would go out crucified not quite like Jesus, but insisting on being crucified upside down instead, feeling himself unworthy to allow quite so much a parallel to his Savior’s death. John, exiled on a bald island for years, purportedly boiled in oil, yet still surviving into old age; still as determined as ever in his defense of Truth, and in his love of God and God’s people. Look at the litany of Paul’s experiences as he worked for this One he had sought to destroy.
Neither would they be the last to experience ceaseless persecutions for the crime of following Jesus. Indeed, we can find it happening today. Seek to preach Jesus in most of the Middle East, and it will become clear soon enough just how dangerous His message can be. And here, we capitulate, it seems, when the persecution is so light as to be rejected by the popular culture, to be derided as antiquated fools because we still take God at His word, still set our own moral course by His standards. As if this is any sort of excuse! As if this even begins to count as persecution! “You have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood in your striving against sin,” writes the author of Hebrews 12:4. It is but the Lord’s discipline, and yet we all but reject it. We don’t want the discipline, we want the approval. We are reminded, though, that the Lord disciplines all whom He loves (v6). This persecution, such as it is, is not intended to bend and break us, but rather to strengthen us. It is part and parcel with those things God has prepared beforehand in order that we might do them. It is our opportunity to take up our own cross and prove ourselves true disciples. It is time we did just that. It is past time.
May we arise from our stupor, lay aside every encumbrance of wanting acceptance from those to whom we must ever be unacceptable, and take up our cross, the onerous burden of our own place in God’s history, and arise! Follow our Lord wherever He is leading! May we be a people who have already counted the cost and count it no more, don’t even consider it worthy to be counted when set against the infinite weight of glory that awaits us. We are not, says that same author, of those who shrink back to destruction, but of those who have faith to the preserving of the soul (Heb 10:39). If we have faith, let us act like it! Let us stand up in the face of unbelief and pronounce the Truth! Let us stand up in the face of rejection and live the Truth! Let us, like those who have defended the faith before us, play the man. Let us look to the example of our own dear Lord and Savior, and think it not strange in the least should we be called to suffer as He suffered. The slave, the student, the disciple, is still not greater than his Master.
