An Even Darker Day

 

...An Even Darker Day (Mark 15)

“And they crucified him.” (Mark 15:24)

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I have no words. It was the worst day of my life. It was the worst day of Jesus’ life. They crucified Jesus. Nailed him to a cross and hung him up to die.

What started last night, when Jesus was arrested and taken to the house of the High Priest, continued today at the break of day. I thought that maybe with the dawn of a new day, things would get better, that the events of the night were all a big misunderstanding. I was wrong. The darkness of last night was light compared to the darkness of this horrible day. 

Every step of the way, Jesus was beaten, abused, ridiculed. They took Jesus to Pilate (and by “they” I mean the officials of the Temple court). Pilate found nothing worthy of putting Jesus to death. He even tried to ask the people if they wanted him to release Jesus. (Every year, Pilate would release a prisoner during the Passover, as a show of “good will” from Rome.) But the Temple officials stirred up the crowd to insist on releasing a murderer named Barabbas. How could anybody ever choose a murderer over an innocent man like Jesus?!

Even though Pilate didn’t think Jesus had done anything that deserved death, he and his soldiers still treated Jesus like someone who deserved death. He had Jesus flogged. Then his soldiers dressed Jesus up like a king, with a heavy robe that set off every nerve of his raw and bleeding flesh, and with a crown made out of thorns. The mocked him – Hail, King! – and they spat on him, and they beat him about the head. They yanked the robe off of him and marched him off to be crucified.

Jesus was so badly weakened by it all that they had to get a man from the crowd to carry the beam of Jesus’ cross for him. They took Jesus to the Hill of the Skull. They offered him a mixture of wine and myrrh to dull the pain, but Jesus refused to take it. 

They nailed him to the cross.

Even on the cross the insults continued. The soldiers cast lots for Jesus’ clothes, right at his feet while he watched them. The sign that stated his crime simply said, “King of the Jews.” People gathered to watch his slow, agonizing death. They jeered and mocked him: “Ha! You said you would knock down the Temple and then rebuild it in three days! Well, why don’t you come down from the cross and save yourself!” The Temple officials and other Jewish leaders joined in with more insults. “He saved others, but he can’t even save himself. Some Messiah! If he comes down from the cross, maybe we’ll actually believe in him.”

Then, darkness. It was the middle of the day, but the whole country was covered with darkness for three hours. At three o’clock, Jesus shouted out in agony, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?!”

Why, indeed, did the One who spoke at Jesus’ baptism, “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.” – Why did God abandon Jesus? Why did the One who spoke on the mountain, “This is my Son, whom I love; listen to him.” – Why did God abandon Jesus? The silence with which God answered Jesus in his deepest agony was deafening.

Then Jesus died. 

One soldier, who was probably there just because he was doing his job, looked at Jesus and said, “Surely this man was the Son of God.”

The soldier was right. Jesus was the Son of God. He was the Son of God. But not anymore, because now he’s dead.

My heart has died within me. So has my walk with Jesus.

My God, my God, why did you abandon Jesus? Why? Why? Why do the evil ones always seem to win? Why do you let those in power govern with such greed, such cruelty? Why did you abandon Jesus, and with him, everyone who pinned our hopes on him?

Why?

Why?

Why?