But then, last night, it all went wrong. It all happened so quickly, we had no way of making sense of what was going on. Jesus had said some things about suffering, about going away, about his body being like broken bread, about pouring out his blood – things that we didn’t understand – so we ended up arguing about who was the greatest. And then we’d gone to the garden to pray, but we’d fallen asleep, and then he'd been arrested.
Shattered dreams. The end of Hope. Disappointment. Questions. No answers. Emptiness. Grief. Loss. Confusion.
You see we’d believed that Jesus was the Messiah. The Anointed One. The Special One. The One sent by God to save his people from Rome and from sin. We’d hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.
But then we watched as he was arrested. And we’d watched as even his closest friends deserted him and denied even knowing him.
We’d watched the illegal sham trial was acted out and Jesus was found guilty – the weight of an unjust and unfair system bearing down on him. Once again witnessing the system crushing those who dared to stand against it. We’d seen it all before, as Rome crushed every rebellion that dared to stand against it. The authorities called them terrorists. We called them freedom fighters. Men like Simon the Zealot – one of our own. Men like Barabbas – who risked everything in their fight for freedom. But surely never before was there one like Jesus – he never carried a sword, he never spoke of violence – he had told us to love our enemies – he had taught us that we should forgive. So why didn’t he defend himself? Why didn’t he speak up? Why didn’t he argue his case? Surely Pilate could see that there was nothing in this case to warrant the death penalty.
We watched as Jesus was flogged – as the leather and bone ripped into his back.
We watched as the soldiers mocked, as they hit him, as they spat at him, as they put a crown of long sharp thorns on his head.
We watched, moving carefully with the crowd, trying not to draw attention to ourselves, as Jesus struggled to carry the cross beam out of the city, to the place of execution.
We watched as Jesus was nailed to the cross. As he experienced one of the cruelest and most painful methods of execution that the Roman empire could come up with. Of course we’d seen it before. Who hadn’t? Rome made sure that we all knew what happened to enemies of the empire. Any of us who had travelled within the empire had seen crosses along the roadside. The ultimate deterrent.
But this was different, because he was different. His teaching. His authority. The healings. The miracles. Bringing Lazarus back to life after four days. Calming the storm. Blind men that can see. We’d never seen things like this before. What further evidence did we need? Surely this man was the Messiah - wasn't he?
We listened as Jesus was mocked – people taunting him to come down off the cross. And in our hearts we hoped he would. Surely this was not too difficult for the man who had raised the dead. Why didn’t he come down?
And we watched as he died. “Father forgive them for they don’t know what they’re doing”. What’s the point of forgiveness? Look where this three year journey has brought us. Whether it is peaceful or violent - rebellion is always crushed. The strong always win. It's always the weak who lose. Power remains with the powerful. So much for the coming Kingdom of God. What do we make now of the claim that ‘Jesus is Lord’? It seems to me as if Caesar has won again.
And as Jesus died, so did our dreams, so did our hopes, so did our ambitions, so did our future. Instead of the victory that we anticipated just five days ago – defeat.
Confused. Scarred. Dejected. Without hope.
Where is God in all this?
God, why have you forsaken us?
How could this happen? Why did this happen?
Today is Friday. The unthinkable has happened. We're struggling to get through the day a minute at a time. There is no thought about tomorrow because we no longer have a future. There is certainly no thought for the day after tomorrow.
