Matthew 27:27–31

Midweek 5

The Wound of Mockery

Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor's headquarters, and they gathered the whole battalion before Him. And they stripped Him and put a scarlet robe on Him, and twisting together a crown of thorns, they put it on His head and put a reed in His right hand. And kneeling before Him, they mocked Him, saying, "Hail, King of the Jews!" And they spit on Him and took the reed and struck Him on the head. And when they had mocked Him, they stripped Him of the robe and put His own clothes on Him and led Him away to crucify Him. ²⁷

They thought it was hysterical—this Galilean peasant pretending to be a king. It cracked them up. They decided to have some fun with His apparent delusion, so the soldiers began by taking away His clothes. He had to stand there naked as they mocked Him. Then they found a beautiful scarlet robe and put that around His shoulders. "There. Now He is beginning to look kingly," they joked with one another. "You know what is missing? We need a crown!" And so one of them thinks up a crown for this peasant king from Galilee, a crown to teach Him a thing or two about His silly daydreams, a crown of entwining thorns. "Thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you" (Genesis 3:18). They smash the crown down upon His head, and the thorns bite and the blood pours. And still He stands there. His response is not what they had hoped for. He is silent to the taunts, the mockery, the jeers. Someone comes up with another missing item—a king needs a scepter. They scrounge around and find a reed, and they make His right hand take it. They step back to admire the finished product: blood running down His face from the thorns cruelly piercing His head, His naked body barely covered with the red scarlet robe, and a flimsy reed that flops this way and that in His hand. "Behold, the man who would be king," they say. Laughing with scorn, they fall on their knees. "Oh, Your majesty!" they cry. "Hail! King of the Jews!"

Still He looks on in silence, as their mockery turns vicious. He will not play along in their game, so He will pay. They begin to spit on Him to show their utter contempt of this deluded upstart. They take His scepter and whip His head with the reed. "Some scepter. Some rule. Some kingdom. You are nothing, and You are about to die, and it will not be easy. Wait and see, King of the Jews."

And as He looks on them, what these men miss is the depth of His pity for them, for these who wound Him with mockery, who try to shame Him, and who are preparing to torture and murder Him. Look into His eyes, though, and you will see it—a depth of pity and a fountain of love that will shake you to your core. It is a mere human trait—common to all of fallen humanity—to love your friends and to seek to do them good. But to love your enemies, to have nothing but pity and compassion for those who taunt and jeer at you and who are preparing to kill you—that is the mark of the heavenly Friend, of Jesus Christ.

What language shall I borrow

To thank Thee, dearest Friend,

For this Thy dying sorrow,

Thy pity without end? So we sing in the hymn O Sacred Head Now wounded. (LSB 450:5)

Limitless pity—no end to it. The look of pity from the face of the mocked King extends not only to His torturers but also to the entire human race, which is complicit in His death. "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," He would say a few hours later (Luke 23:34).

Of course, the truth beyond all truths is that Jesus actually is King—the King promised to the Jews. Yes, Jesus is the long-awaited Son of David. But even more, He is the King for the Gentiles and their Ruler. He is the One to whom the entire universe belongs. Every one of us—including those who mocked and shamed Him—owe their existence only to His will that we exist. You will never ponder the Passion aright until you remember that a single thought from Jesus could have undone all those who sought His death, a single thought could have destroyed us all. But even in the midst of that provocation, all He returns is love, pity, mercy. For that is what fills Him. That is who Jesus is. And this is how He reigns as King above all kings: He rules in love unconquerable by hate.

For you see, Jesus is determined to share fully in the lot we have chosen for ourselves. We were destined to sit on thrones of glory and to be robed in majestic garments and to wear crowns on our heads. Such was what our God wanted for us, why He created us in the first place. But we threw it all away and embraced instead the path of suffering and death, of loneliness and pain. He would not have that be our end. He came to walk that path as King so that through His sufferings all that we lost might be restored to us again.

Jesus is stripped, that our sinful nakedness might be clothed in the bright robe of His righteousness. He wears a crown of thorns, that we might wear a royal diadem. He is beaten and mocked, that we might be welcomed and treasured. Love Incarnate will overcome all hatred and mockery and remain Love, that a way would be opened for us to return from this misery of sin and death into the kingdom the Father planned for us from the beginning.

Jesus walks that way—that suffering way—in kingly fashion. None of the mockery can take from Him His majesty, His glory, His peace. He does every act of His Passion in burning love for the fallen race of men so that we might be restored. He chooses to lay down His life that we might live in Him.

Such love on His part begets love on ours. That is why we sing together:

O make me Thine forever!

And should I fainting be,

Lord, let me never, never,

Outlive my love for Thee. (LSB 450:5)

Behold, your King! Behold—beneath the spit, the blood, the blows—the eyes that look upon you with tender compassion and cry out: "For you, child. For love of you. That you might live with Me forever."

Amen.