"The Passion of the Christ: The Passion of the Cross"
Easter Sermon-April 16, 2006
(Mk. 15:15-39)
Dr. Peter Barnes
First Presbyterian Church

Introduction 
      During this Holy Week, we have been considering the Passion of the Christ. On Palm Sunday we discussed the Passion of the Triumphal Entry. On Maundy Thursday, we considered the Passion of the Garden of Gethsemane. And today we will examine the Passion of the Cross.
      Our theme for this series has been taken from Mel Gibson’s stunning and controversial movie in 2004 by the same name. You will recall that last Sunday I explained how Gibson drew upon the history of biblical scholarship in naming his film and that the word “passion” has been used for centuries to describe the suffering of Jesus during the last days and hours of His life. Typically, we use the word “passion” to describe the emotion between two lovers – “They are so passionate about one another.” Or we use it to express the love of an athlete for his or her sport – “They have a great passion for the game.” Perhaps we even think about a hobby we have or an avocation about which we are passionate.
      Yet, Mel Gibson, drawing upon the way the writers of the New Testament and the early church fathers used the Greek word pathos – “passion” or “suffering,” tapped into the transformation of this word with a deeper meaning to refer to the great agony of Christ’s suffering for your sins and mine. This morning we consider the Passion of the Cross – the culminating focus of the Passion of the Christ. 
      In our society today the cross has come to be a rather prevalent fixture. Many people wear crosses around their necks and on their ears as jewelry, and some have crosses tattooed on their bodies. My wife has a pair of reversible matching cross earrings that have black onyx on one side and silver filigree on the other. They are very beautiful. Crosses come in all shapes and sizes and in all the colors of the rainbow. There are gold crosses, silver crosses, red crosses, blue crosses, Celtic crosses, Greek crosses, Latin crosses, the anchor cross, the Jerusalem cross, St. Andrew's cross, the Trinity cross, the budded cross, and the list goes on. And in every city and town across this country one will find a church with a cross perched atop its steeple. Some glow at night as neon lights. I recall that on the top of the steeple of my seminary, Gordon-Conwell, there was a lit yellow cross which the pilots actually used to guide them to Logan airport in Boston. All in all, the cross has become the central focus of worship in the Christian Church.
      However, it is fascinating to me that the cross should come to have this position of respectability, for back in the first century AD the cross was anything but respectable. The cross brought fear into the hearts of millions as it was the cruelest form of capital punishment known to humankind. People looked with contempt upon those who were executed by crucifixion, for the cross was degrading, humiliating, and a cause of fear. In the first century AD, wearing a cross would be like wearing little electric chairs as jewelry today. It would be considered poor taste.
      How is it, then, that the cross has come to hold such a position of acceptance in our day and time? It is because the cross is the source of hope for us as believers. It is the cross that proclaims the love of God for us sinners, and it is the cross that begins to sensitize us to the depth of what it cost God to provide for us everlasting life. 
      This morning I would like for us to examine three aspects of the Passion of the Cross which will help us more fully realize the experience of our Savior's suffering and death on our behalf. They are: 1) the pain of the cross; 2) the dereliction of the cross; and 3) the victory of the cross.

I.  The Pain of the Cross
      The extraordinary feature about the narrative in the Gospels concerning the crucifixion is its reticence: "They brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha....  It was the third hour when they crucified Him" (vv.22, 25).  There is no attempt to pile horror upon horror and set out the grim details. The Gospel writers simply set down the fact in all its stark simplicity. For them that was enough, because every person in the first century AD knew the details. They knew the facts of crucifixion. But for us something more is necessary in order that we might gain an understanding of what Jesus actually went through for us in His death.
      It was the land of Palestine. The Roman Empire was in full control of this tiny little province called Judea. In order to maintain its oppressive rule, the Roman government meted out execution by crucifixion, which demonstrated the authority and power of Rome and kept its subject peoples under its thumb. The cruelty of this form of capital punishment lay in the public shame that was involved and in its slow physical torture. 
      Following the verdict of condemnation Jesus was scourged, for scourging was always a prelude to crucifixion (Mk. 15:15). There were few ordeals more terrible than Roman scourging. The victim was stripped, and he was either tied to a pillar in a bent position with his back exposed so that he could not move, or he was stretched rigid upon a frame. The scourge was made of strips of leather studded with pellets of lead or iron and pieces of bone. It literally ripped a person's back to pieces. Many lost consciousness under the lash. 
      The criminal was then handed over to the soldiers that they might make sport of Him (Mk. 15:16-20). They made Jesus a crown of thorns and gave Him a reed for a scepter and an old purple cloak for a robe, and they mocked Him as a king and a prophet. Then Jesus began the procession to Calvary. The procession always followed the same pattern. The criminal was placed in a hollow square of four Roman soldiers. In front there walked a herald carrying a board whitened with gypsum with the charge painted in black letters. In the case of Jesus it read: "This is Jesus; King of the Jews." The criminal was taken to the place of crucifixion the longest possible way, by the busiest streets, and through as many of them as possible, so that it might serve as a warning to anyone who might be contemplating a crime. As he went, the victim was lashed and goaded on his way.
      The criminal was compelled to carry at least part of his own cross to the place of execution. The upright beam of the cross was called the stripes, and the cross-bean was called the patibulum. If there was a regular place of crucifixion, such as at Golgotha, the upright beam usually stood ready there in its socket, and it was the cross-beam, the patibulum, which the prisoner was forced to carry.
      The exhausting experience of the night of trials and examinations, and the terrible torture of the scourging, had left Jesus so weak that He staggered and fell under the weight of the beam. Simon of Cyrene, no doubt a pilgrim to the Passover from North Africa, had the grim experience of being unexpectedly forced into Roman service to carry the cross of Christ.
      When the place of crucifixion was reached, the criminal was stripped of his clothing. The cross was laid flat on the ground, and the person was then laid on top of it. The victim was fastened to the cross either with cords or iron nails -- the nails being driven through the hands or the wrist and the feet. Then the cross-beam was raised and fixed so that the victim's feet were off the ground, but not very high off the ground. The shoulders and torso were sometimes bound to the cross so as to limit the crucified person's movement. More often than not, the cross formed a capital T.
      Midway up the vertical beam there was a horn-like projection called the sedile. The criminal would straddle this so as to take some of the weight off the body and prevent the flesh from tearing away from the nails. Affixed to the cross, the person could not care for his bodily needs, and he was the object of taunts and indignities from passersby.
      With respect to the cause of death, the execution damaged no vital part of the body. Rather, death came slowly, sometimes even after days as the result of fatigue, cramped muscles, thirst, and ultimately suffocation. Eventually the crucified person was too exhausted to lift himself up so as to allow air into his lungs, and, as our text says in verse 37, “He breathed His last.”
      One author has said that the execution by crucifixion

      Such was the physical death that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ suffered for you and me. But I’m convinced the physical pain that Christ endured was not the worst aspect of our Lord's death upon the tree of Calvary. No, the dereliction that He suffered was an even greater one. And that leads us to the second aspect that I would like for us to consider this morning.

II.  The Dereliction of the Cross
      Beginning at verse 33 we read that, “At the sixth hour darkness came over the whole land, and at the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, ‘Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?’ which means, 'My God, My God, why have you forsaken Me?’” This saying of Jesus from the cross is probably the most difficult to interpret. It is a quotation of the first verse of Psalm 2, the great Messianic psalm. In that psalm it is an urgent appeal to God to intervene on behalf of the righteous sufferer. Jesus, on the cross, was living out the situation described in this eschatological psalm of suffering.
      Some have tried to cushion the power of this passionate outburst arguing that by quoting the first verse of the psalm, Jesus was implying the entire psalm which ends on a note of triumph and sincerity. They say that Jesus’ words are an affirmation of faith that looks beyond the despair and tragedy of the cross. However, the sharp edge of these words must not be blunted. Jesus’ cry of dereliction is the inevitable sequel to the horror which He experienced in the Garden of Gethsemane. 
      On the cross, Jesus offered Himself to bear the judgment of God upon our human rebellion. He who had totally lived for the Father experienced the full alienation from God which the judgment He had assumed entailed. His cry expresses the profound horror of separation from God. The darkness that covered the land declared the same truth. 
      The sinless Son of God died the sinner's death and experienced the bitterness of desolation. This was the cost of "providing a ransom for the many" (Mk. 10:45).  The cry has the ruthless authenticity which provides the assurance that the price of sin had been paid in full. 2 Corinthians 5:21 says that “God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us.”  Isaiah 53:4,5 says, “Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried; yet we ourselves esteemed His stricken, smitten of God and afflicted. But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities.” 1 Corinthians 15:3 says, “Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures.”
      It is the atonement that fills the incarnation with meaning. This Jesus died on the tree of Calvary not for any wrong He had committed, but for the wrongs you and I commit. All the sin of the elect and the punishment that we deserve was poured out on Jesus the Christ.  He was completely abandoned by the Father at that moment, and He felt the wrath of God cutting profoundly deep.
      But the passage does not end there. It moves on from the pain of the cross and the dereliction of the cross to the victory of the cross.

III.  The Victory of the Cross
      In verses 15:37, 38, Mark records, “With a loud cry, Jesus breathed His last.  And the curtain of the Temple was torn in two from top to bottom.”  In John’s Gospel we are given the detail of what these words were in the loud cry of Jesus. John records that He said, “It is finished.” Tetelestai (John 19:13). This word tetelestai is an interesting word. It does not denote a mild whimper, but rather it is the victor's shout when he has conquered. It is the cry of the person who has completed his task. It is the cry of the individual who has won in the struggle. It is the cry of one who has overcome. Jesus died a conqueror and a victor with a shout of triumph. The work for which God had sent Him into the world to do had been accomplished.
      As a witness to the finished work of Christ on the cross, God caused the curtain of the Temple to tear from top to bottom. This curtain was a thick partition that divided the Holy of Holies from the rest of the Temple courts. It was a symbol of God’s inapproachability. Only the high priest could enter the Holy of Holies, and he only once a year, on the Day of Atonement. The curtain was made of blue, purple, scarlet and fine twisted linen embroidered with figures of cherubim (Ex. 26:31-37; 36:35). It was hung with golden hooks upon four pillars of acacia wood that were overlaid with gold and set in bases of silver. It is likely that the curtain was quite thick to correspond to its size. The tearing of the curtain symbolized that Jesus, our great High Priest, had now opened the way for all believers to enter into the presence of God through His sacrificial death.
      But the most glorious fact about Jesus’ death was that the best was yet to come. In three days this same Jesus would rise again from the dead, and He would put an end to the power that death held. This is the Good News of the cross – that the resurrection power of God was just around the corner.
      Tony Campolo tells a story I have shared before, but it bears repeating, especially today. Many years ago, he was in an African American church, and that night they had a lot of pastors lined up to preach. It was a great celebration for the whole community. Tony was one of the speakers that night, and he said that he felt like he was in a preach-off! When it was his turn to speak, he got up and gave it his best shot. And he preached up a storm. He said, “I was so good, I was taking notes on myself!”
      When Tony was finished, he sat down and looked over at the man who was to follow him as if to say, “Top that, brother!” But the next fellow, who was African American, looked at Tony with an expression that seemed to say, “My good white brother, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet!” The preacher began slowly and built to a crescendo that thundered the message of Easter. His entire message that night was, "It's Friday, but Sunday's comin'!" It's Friday, but Sunday's comin'. 
      “Jesus may be dead and in the grave, but come three days yet shall He live again! It's Friday, but Sunday's comin'! They may put the body of Jesus in a tomb and station Roman soldiers around that tomb, and place a Roman seal upon that tomb, but come three days that tomb is gonna be empty! It's Friday, but Sunday's comin'! Ole Satan may think that he's won the contest, but the game ain't over yet, and God's getting ready to come to bat! Come three days, that Savior's gonna rise! It's Friday, but Sunday's comin'! Darkness may be covering the whole land, and there may be sadness and weeping in heaven for the Son of God is dead, but come three days, that Son is gonna shine, and there will be rejoicing and singing and shouts of Hallelujah in the heavens! It's Friday, but Sunday's comin'!”
      The Good News of the cross is that what looks like death and failure to the world is actually the beginning of new life and victory. Our Father has given us that new life, and He has given us that victory, and He has given us that resurrection power in the death of our Lord Jesus Christ who died on our behalf and in our place.

Conclusion
      Well, what about you and me? How has the passion of the Christ affect our lives daily? Is it simply a static doctrine in our theological repertoire which guarantees our ticket to heaven, or does it prompt us to holy and repentant lifestyles with attitudes bent on serving our Lord in all things? How often has our contemplation of the cross pricked our hearts with such force that we become changed people?
      I heard a story about a man who was once the Catholic Bishop of Paris that has stayed with me. In closing, I would like to share it with you. The Bishop was preaching one Sunday morning, and he told of a young man who was hanging around with his drinking buddies one day. They had become bored with their activities in the afternoon, and they were trying to think of something to do for laughs. One fellow piped up and suggested that one of their group be sent into the Catholic church nearby, enter the confessional, and really shock the socks off the elderly priest there with a wild story of immoralities and drunkenness. Some aspects of the story they made up were true and others were outlandishly fabricated.
      The young man of our story was selected to be the "confessor," and he entered the church while his buddies waited for him outside. The young man walked into the confessional area and entered the confessional booth. Then the voice of the old priest came forth, "Yes, my son, do you wish to confess something?" 
      The young man proceeded to relate the wild story that he and his friends had made up, telling the most explicit details and showing no remorse for his supposed actions. 
      When he had finished, the elderly priest asked if he was through. The young man said, "Yes."
      And then the wise old priest said, "Young man, you have committed a grave sin. What I want you to do for your penance is to go over to the chapel down the hall, walk up to the railing and kneel down. Then look up at the Savior's face on the crucifix, and say, 'You did this for me, and I don't give a damn.'"
      The young man exited the confessional booth and proceeded to the chapel. He walked up to the railing, knelt down, looked into the face of the Savior on the crucifix, and said, "You did this for me, and I don't give a...." He didn't finish the sentence. He got up and hurried outside and joined his waiting buddies amidst the laughter.
      At this point in his telling of the story, the Bishop of Paris leaned over the pulpit and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, that young man is now your Bishop."[2]
      Golgotha is not a suitable resting place. As we have contemplated this day the Passion of the Cross, can we go away from here unaffected and unchanged? Our Lord laid down His perfect, sinless life as an atonement for our sins in order that we might live. In gratitude and humility, should we not respond afresh in laying down our lives for Him on this Easter Sunday? Amen.