Meditation: As we come to our yearly celebration of the resurrection of Christ, we have arrived in Jerusalem in our Lenten meditations. Were you there when they crucified my Lord? Yes, we are here, and we are witnesses of his love and of his glory.
In this reading there are three related statements I want to lift up and have you ponder.
John says, “Though he had done so many signs before them, they still did not believe in him” (John 12:37). May we remember that even today, there are those who will refuse to believe no matter how much evidence is placed before them. On Easter especially, we mourn those we love who don’t believe.
John further says, “Therefore they could not believe” (John 12:39). I don’t know the full implications of this statement, but it makes me sad. Some people seem incapable of making the commitment faith requires. They don’t want to take any sort of risk. But, as Kierkegaard once wrote, “No risk, no faith” (my paraphrase). On Easter, we mourn those who cannot believe.
Finally, John quotes Jesus as saying, “Whoever believes in me, believes not in me but in him who sent me” (John 12:44). Our faith in Christ is a confirmation of the entire mission of Jesus, who came into this world to save it. And that means us. Our belief in his resurrection is the climax of our faith in him and his power to save us from destruction. On Easter, we celebrate those who believe with us.
Celebrating Jesus’ resurrection is the fruit of faith. We have risked and we have been rewarded. As John says near the end of the book:
These are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name (John 20:31).
Meditation: This is one of the richest, densest texts in John. When I read it, I am hit with many familiar verses, many profound statements, and several verses that bring great sadness to my soul.
In John 2 we encounter the story of Jesus at a marriage feast in Cana of Galilee. Remember the interaction between Jesus and his mother, Mary? When she prods him to fix the wine situation, he says, “My hour has not yet come” (John 2:4). In this text, Jesus says, “The hour has come” (John 12:23).
But what does that mean? What does it mean that Jesus’ hour has come? The fuller quotation is, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.” Jesus faces this hour squarely and talks about dying. His language is incredibly brave in this context when he says, “It was for this very reason I came to this hour.” He knows what is coming. He knows why he must go to the cross, so that his prayer might be answered, “Father, glorify your name” (John 12:28).
From the Getty Museum, Los Angeles
And this is where it gets very sad for me, because I remember one of John’s opening statements, “We beheld his glory, glory of the only begotten Son, come from the Father, full of grace and truth.” This is truly his hour. His great glory is in his dying. He is the seed that must die to produce many other seeds.
Another earlier theme is found here, the idea of Jesus being “lifted up.” Earlier Jesus told Nicodemus that the “Son of Man must be lifted up like the bronze serpent on the pole in the wilderness (John 3:14). Here he says that when he is lifted up, all people will be drawn to him. And we learn what his “lifting up” is. It is his manner of death, to be lifted up on a Roman cross to die.
All of these things are tied together, Jesus fulfilling his time, Jesus glorifying his Father, Jesus being lifted up to die. This is the essence of Holy Week, especially of Good Friday. We are almost at the end of our Lenten journey. Ponder these things. Let your soul be sad if that is what you feel. Meditate on the great plan of God for our salvation and the willing sacrifice of Jesus, the Son, to bring it to fruition.
Prayer: Lord Jesus, we are dumbfounded by your love and devotion. May we behold a glimpse of your glory this week as we await your resurrection celebration on Easter Sunday. Amen.
Meditation: John’s Gospel differs in details from Matthew, Mark, and Luke (called the “Synoptic Gospels). For example, the entire Lazarus story is found only in John. Beginning with these verses, however, John joins the Synoptics for the last week, the Passion Week of Jesus, relating many of the same events in similar fashion. By “passion” in this terminology, we are using an old meaning for the word passion, “suffering.” The Passion Week of Jesus is the “Suffering Week” of Jesus.
John’s account of the Passion and Resurrection of Jesus begins here, about 550 verses deep into John (879 verse total). John devotes nearly 30% of his space to talking about this last week of Jesus. In some ways, everything before this has pointed to this week. This is the story John truly wants to tell.
In the ancient world, “triumphs” were often celebrated as a civic event. A king or general who had won a great victory would return to his home city and receive a joyous, celebratory parade. The parade train of the victor might include wagons loaded with the plunder of war and even some of the captives taken during the battle. A special prize was the king of the losing army, a war prize like no other. He might be displayed in chains near the end of the parade. The Romans were renowned for their triumphal processions in the city of Rome. Victorious generals such as Pompey, Julius Caesar, and Caesar Augustus received multiple triumphs in Rome to mark their successes on the battlefield.
There are antecedents to this practice in the Old Testament (usually called “processions”) that would echo this later Roman practice. Psalm 118 seems to be such a source, chronicling the boasting of the victorious army while giving thanks to the Lord for the triumph. The warrior king proceeds to the temple gates and roars,
Open for me the gates of justice I will enter and give thanks to the Lord. (Ps 118:19)
This is all while the joyous crowd shouts “Lord, save us!” which in Hebrew is “Hosanna” (Ps 118:25). The multitude adds its approval by saying, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” (Ps 118:26).
Jesus enters Jerusalem riding on a donkey. We might think this to be unsuitable, almost comic, not fit for a king. We might remember the triumphal procession scene from Ben Hur, where Charlton Heston rides alongside General Arrius in a golden chariot to the throne of Emperor Tiberius (link for YouTube). No humility there!
But in the traditions of the nation of Israel, for a king to ride a donkey or mule was appropriate and kingly. It exemplified receiving acclaim with humility, what the people of Israel expected from their kings. By riding this donkey, Jesus is claiming his kingship as the rightful heir of David from the tribe of Judah. But he does it with humility. His humility does not strike a pleasant note with his critics, the Pharisees, though. They mutter, “Look how the whole world has gone after him!”
In this Lenten season as we have been travelling to Jerusalem with Jesus, we are now at the gates. We are part of the world that has gone after Jesus. We would long to line the highway for this procession, eagerly throwing our hoodies and sweaters onto the roadway as the pavement of the people. We, too, would shout, “Hosanna!” for we look for the salvation of the Lord. We anticipate Jesus opening for us the gates of justice, the gates of the righteous, so that we may enter in. We’re almost to the end. May we ready our hearts for what is to come in the next few days, for the triumph will turn into a betrayal, the acclaim into call for Jesus’ death, all according to God’s plan.
Prayer: Lord Jesus, how easily the joy of the crowd could have turned you face from your task. You knew their hearts as you know ours. Humble our hearts this week as we turn to you as our Savior and Lord. Amen.
Meditation: The plot thickens and accelerates for John. Jesus and his disciples defy danger and return to Bethany six days before the Passover Sabbath. For Jews, the new day begins at sundown (because the old day ends when the sun goes down), so they likely arrived on Friday and sat down to a meal at the house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus that evening. This would make it the Sabbath dinner before Passover.
John says the dinner was given “in Jesus’ honor.” Remember that John, the author was there, so we have an eyewitness account. Several groups are identified. There are the men at the table (including the remarkable Lazarus). There is Martha serving them, likely with other women servers. And then there is Mary, who is not serving food, but serving Jesus in a different way.
Mary breaks open a precious family treasure to lavish its contents on Jesus. It is a pint of nard, a costly, pungent oil. Some believe this may have come from the Himalayan foothills of Nepal where the best nard is produced. Judas later claims this pot of nard would have been worth 300 silver denarii, a year’s worth of pay for a common laborer. Today that would be equivalent to $30,000 or more. This might have been a family heirloom, perhaps saved for years.
Mary acts with familiarity and devotion, pouring the nard on Jesus’ feet and wiping them with her long hair. The room is filled with the richly pungent aroma, a smell that might have been unknown to some of those assembled.
John presents a contrast between the willing extravagance of Mary and the miserly complaining of Judas. Feigning piety, Judas decries what he sees as the waste of this costly nard. He claims that its value could have been realized when sold and given for relief of the poor. Lest we begin to think of Judas as dutiful and generous, the author points out that he was a thief who stole from the common purse of the disciples.
Jesus’ response encapsulates the contrast between Mary and Judas. To Judas he says, there will always be poor people to serve. This is not a prophetic word to insist there is no cure for poverty. He is telling Judas that this is not a lost or last opportunity to do relief work. There will be many more in the future.
To Mary he says, you will not always have me. She has understood the shadow of impending death hangs heavy over Jesus. This is her final chance to show heroic love, almost like a kiss goodbye. We are reminded of Jesus’ words about Mary in the Gospel of Luke, “Mary has chosen what is better.”
As we begin the last leg of the journey to Jerusalem with Jesus on this, the fifth Wednesday of Lent, let us ask ourselves if we are following like Mary or like Judas. Are we willing to give everything, or do we expect to get everything for following Jesus? Sometimes our thinking must be short-term, serve now while you can. Let us surrender even more of our hearts in service this week as we look forward to Palm Sunday and Resurrection Sunday.
Prayer: Lord Jesus, may we serve you by serving others, not ourselves. Give us opportunities and resolve to do so this week. May our devotion for you grow stronger each day, to the point there would be nothing we would not give you. Amen.
Meditation: The mortal danger of the Sanhedrin has not gone unnoticed by Jesus, so he withdraws from Bethany to a village “near the wilderness” called Ephraim. The location of this village is uncertain today, but it is often associated with a town about 12 miles NE of Jerusalem. This is not done out of cowardice or fear. As one author says, “Jesus does not retreat to escape his death, … but to control its time.”[1]
Indeed, this isa threatening time for Jesus. John tells us that “the chief priests and Pharisees” (i.e., the Sanhedrin) had given the command that anyone who knew Jesus’ whereabouts must report to them. This gives an Orwellian tone to the story at this point, government commanding citizens to inform on their friends under threat of punishment. It is always a sad time when the greatest concern of government leaders is their own survival and power.
Thus, in John, it becomes clear that Jesus’ objective is clear. He is to be in Jerusalem for Passover, perhaps the greatest of all the Jewish festivals of that day. Theologically, John presents Jesus as the ultimate sacrificial lamb, and the connections to the thousands of Passover lambs of Jerusalem are clear and important. Over a millennium earlier, the blood of the Passover lamb painted on the doorposts of the homes of the people of Israel in Egypt caused the angel of death to “pass over” those homes and spare them from the death of their firstborn (Exodus 12:12-13). John says in Revelation 1:5 that it is the blood of Jesus that “frees us from our sins” and their penalty of death. The blood of the lamb/Lamb is a consistent part of God’s plan, separated by many centuries but connected to human salvation.
Therefore, many of the pilgrims who have come to Jerusalem for Passover must wait for him. They don’t know where he is. They even begin to wonder, “Isn’t he coming to the festival at all?” They are impatient waiters. They don’t realize that God’s plan sometimes requires that we wait.
Part of Lent, I think, is learning to wait. Forty days is a long time to wait in our current culture. Things move quickly, and what is vitally important today can be forgotten a week later. We want results and we want them now. For example, even if inflation has been ramping up for months, we expect government officials to stop it within 24 hours, or at least before we need to gas up the car again. We don’t like to wait.
As we journey to Jerusalem with Jesus this year, let us be content to wait. Admittedly, this is hard for me. I’m not a natural waiter, not a patient person, and it takes great self-control for me to be patient. (My family could tell many stories of me walking out of restaurants and other embarrassing events caused by my impatience.)
But this year, I want to wait. I want to be ready when Easter comes, and that requires preparation. I look forward to celebrating the resurrection of my Lord with my church. It will be worth the wait, I think.Prayer: Lord, we wait for you. Give us peace in our hearts and anticipation of celebration. Amen.
Mark Krause Wildewood Christian Church
[1] Gail R. O’Day, “The Gospel of John,” in New Interpreter’s Bible, ed. Leander E. Keck (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994–2004), 698.
Meditation: Matthew, Mark, and Luke picture Jesus telling his disciples repeatedly that he was to die in Jerusalem (see Matthew 16:21). This overhanging threat colors the journey, giving a sense of dread for the future.
In John, we learn details of the machinations of the Jerusalem leaders, the plot against Jesus. This plotting was not hatched as a response to the Triumphal Entry. It had begun some time earlier.
The powerful miracle of restoring life to the dead Lazarus took place in Bethany. This village was about 1.5 miles from Jerusalem, a twenty to thirty-minute walk. The folks in Bethany are celebrating the resurrection of Lazarus, but a half-hour away, some are not so happy. The startling news of Jesus’ power over death has caused the leaders of Jerusalem to panic. Jesus has made enemies of the leaders of the Pharisees, both in Galilee and Jerusalem.
The Pharisees enjoyed great popularity among the people and were part of the Sanhedrin, the Jewish high council of the day. The other part was made up of Sadducees, the party of the high priests and their associates. The Pharisees and Sadducees famously disagreed over the possibility of the resurrection of the dead with the Pharisees affirming and the Sadducees denying (see Acts 23:8). We would think that news of the Lazarus miracle would be good news to the Pharisees in this long-standing controversy, but such is not the case. Instead, they sense a growing threat to their status quo. The popularity of Jesus among the people could cause rebellion, in which case “the Romans will come and take away both our temple and our nation” (John 11:48). For the Sadducees, the loss of the temple meant the end of their way of life and the source of their great wealth. For the Pharisees, the loss of the nation would be a catastrophic end to their hopes for the restoration of Israel as a nation.
Herod’s Temple at the time of Jesus
Caiaphas, the official high priest that year, opines that the death of Jesus is now necessary to avoid conflict with the Roman overlords. One man’s life was expendable when the fate of a nation was at stake. This plot is later extended to another who must die, Lazarus himself, as a rebuke to Jesus’ followers (John 12:10).
John, the author, writes several decades after these events. He notes two ironic things about Caiaphas’s logic:
The Sanhedrin’s murderous plot was successful in killing Jesus but resulted in the salvation of Israel and for many others. The Sanhedrin simply wanted to eliminate a threat for political reasons, but the result was a sacrificial death that brought spiritual salvation.
Although not stated explicitly, John is writing after the Romans did indeed destroy the Jerusalem temple and dismantle any vestige of the nation of Israel in Palestine. This took place in A.D. 70. John knows this and his readers know this. There was no political salvation for Israel, that which Caiaphas was willing to commit murder to achieve.
The plot thickens. As Jesus continues to Jerusalem, he is not facing chaos in which he is an unfortunate victim. He is headed to a city controlled by those who deliberately and deviously plan his death.
We can draw many analogies to this today, even conspiracy plots to eliminate any reference to Jesus and his teachings in our culture. Many things the Church of Christ has taught and believed are reviled by non-believers. If you are practicing Lent with me this year, you have chosen to journey to Jerusalem with Jesus. This means you know there will be some who reject you, who despise you. It can be a hard journey requiring dedication, persistence, and devotion. It requires that we not let the opponents of Jesus assume victory. It includes conscious, eyes-wide-open sacrifice for Christ and his church. Let us continue this week.
Prayer: Lord, we know there are powerful forces opposing Christianity and its message of love for others. We know that if we are willing to lay down our lives, there are many who are ready to take them. May we be undeterred by plots and plotters and trust in you and your plan for our salvation. We pray in the name of Jesus, Amen.
Meditation: Only John gives us the story of the raising of Lazarus. In fact, only John mentions Lazarus of Bethany at all. Luke has a story of Mary and Martha, in which we are to understand their place of residence was “her [Martha’s] home.” We can only surmise their situation, but it seems reasonable to think that these are three adult siblings living together. Martha has likely inherited the home from a deceased husband. (If it had been from their parents, the home would have gone to the son, Lazarus.) It is also likely that Martha is the oldest with Mary, perhaps, being younger and Lazarus the youngest. Notice that while we traditionally refer to the sisters as Mary and Martha, John presents them as Martha and Mary, with the older being named first.
Raising of Lazarus, Vincent van Gogh
When Jesus arrives, there are many other Jews who have come to comfort the sisters over the death of their dear brother. For dutiful Martha, this is surely a hospitality burden in her time of grief. She is grumpy, not happy with Jesus. “If you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21), she accuses.
Jesus seems to offer words of comfort, saying, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha assumes he is repeating the doctrine of the rabbis, that there would be a resurrection of the dead, and that Lazarus would be part of this at some time in the future. But Jesus is not talking about the great resurrection of the dead. He is talking about his own resurrection power. He makes one of the most famous statements in the book of John, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die” (John 11:25).
If this is one of the Gospel of John’s greatest statements, what follows is one of its greatest dramatic moments. Jesus summons Lazarus to come from the tomb, and in so doing Jesus calls him from the realm of the dead. The dead Lazarus lives again! Don’t misunderstand this. It is not a “near-death experience,” a clinically dead person suddenly reviving in the ambulance. Lazarus has been dead for four days before Jesus arrives. Mary hesitates to open the tomb because she assumes the rotting body will have a foul odor. This is a miracle of stupendous proportions, a marvel unmatched except by the resurrection of Jesus himself.
It has been said that one way to look at life is as a long series of saying goodbyes. Death is the ultimate goodbye. It is never easy to say this final goodbye to one you love. What a terrible thing to say goodbye in this way and have no hope you will ever meet again!
Lazarus died again, I’m sure. But Jesus said, “The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.” In context, he was talking about Lazarus, one who believed in Jesus. Like us, fellow believers in Christ, we have the hope of eternal life through our faith in Jesus’ power to rescue us from death. “And this is what he promised us: eternal life” (1 John 2:25).
We all know the story of the raising of Lazarus, but we rarely think of it in the context of Jesus’ final journey to Jerusalem. As we travel to the cross during the Lenten season, may we remember the great hope. As Paul says, we need “not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.” We do have hope that goes beyond death.
We know the end of this story. Jesus dies by Roman execution in Jerusalem. But he rises from the dead on the third day. This week, let us take comfort in that blessed hope.
Prayer: Father, death is all too common in our lives nowadays. We need that hope that Jesus gives us, that you will raise us and those we love to eternal life. Some days, that is all that sustains us during our sadness and silence. We pray in the name of the one who raised Lazarus from the dead, Jesus the Lord, Amen.
I’m going to pause my series on the Postmodern Journey to 2022 to offer seven weeks of Lenten meditations. I will return to it.
Introduction:
Traditionally we take the theme of “on the road to Jerusalem” from the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke), keying on the verses where Jesus “sets his face” to go to Jerusalem (Matthew 19:1, Mark 10:1, Luke 9:52). John has a complementary account, filling in many details no found in the Synoptics. Let’s take our key from John 11:7: “and then he said to his disciples, ‘Let us go back to Judea.’”
John 11:1-16, The Dying of Lazarus
Prepare:
Read John 11:1-16
Meditation:
John 11 marks a turning point in the book. Poignant tragedy seems to befall Jesus and his disciples from now on. These men of Galilee will be traveling to Judea (and, therefore, Jerusalem) for the last time
In the Gospel of John, a personal heartbreak precipitates this journey. Jesus has made friends with the household of two sisters (Mary and Martha) and their brother (Lazarus). They live in the village of Bethany, a fifteen-minute walk from the walls of Jerusalem. Jesus has stayed at their home before, and some have surmised that this convenient home was the billet site for Jesus and his followers when they visited Jerusalem. We don’t know much about the Bethany Three, but they seem to be unmarried, living in a family home. It would be proper to call them disciples, devoted followers of Jesus, who did not travel with him.
The heartbreak comes when Jesus learns that a severe illness had befallen Lazarus. We think he must have been a young man, perhaps in his twenties. But they delay journeying from Galilee to Bethany, a walk of two or three days at least, until Jesus learns that the illness has taken Lazarus’s life. As he tells his disciples, “Lazarus is dead” (John 11:14). The disciples do not want to go to Judea without good cause, for they believe Jesus’ life to be in danger there. They have reminded the Lord that “a short time ago the Jews there tried to stone [kill] you” (John 11:8). Overshadowing this conversation is the perception that if dangerous for Jesus, Judea/Jerusalem might be fatally dangerous for the twelve, too. If Lazarus is dead, he is beyond healing, and the reason for the journey becomes futility. Elvis has already left the building.
The last verse in our reading has an example of “heroic love” from an oft-maligned member of the twelve, Thomas. A later incident has given this man the eternal title of “Doubting Thomas,” a milquetoast person who has a permanent shrine in the Cowards Hall of Fame. Yet this is not fair, I think. When all is sorted out; Lazarus’s demise, the danger of Judea, and Jesus’ determination to go; Thomas makes one of the grandest statements in all the Gospels, “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (John 11:16).
The death of Lazarus is therefore tied to dying with Jesus. This is the road to Jerusalem for Thomas, a death march with the one he loved. As we journey to Easter Sunday through the weeks of Lent, may we join Thomas. May we be willing to put to death the things that keep us from loving Jesus fully. May we take up Thomas’s challenge, and “go that we may die with him.”
Prayer:
As Paul says, “I am crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians 2:20). May this Lenten season be a time when we live fully for our Lord, not holding back anything. We pray in his precious name, Amen.
Archaeologists tell us that burial of the dead may be the earliest human religious practice for which they have evidence. All the reasons for ancients to bury a corpse may be unrecoverable, but we do have some clues. The Egyptians apparently believed that an in-the-ground burial was a type of gateway for the person to enter the afterlife, which was in the “underworld.” They buried their kings with things they believed would be needed in the afterlife, including slaves, animals, foods, even boats and chariots.
In the Jerusalem of Jesus’ day, a family might own a tomb used for members of that family. This might be a cave-like structure carved from the limestone of the region (a relatively soft stone). In this family tomb there would be niches, a shelf where a newly passed person’s body could be laid. After a time, the bones would be clean and would be collected and put in an “ossuary,” a bone box also carved from limestone. Such ossuaries might hold the remains of several people, freeing up the niche for a new burial. Bodies were wrapped in graveclothes (shrouds) and packed with spices to mitigate the odor of the body’s decay. Since touching a dead body rendered a person “unclean” under Jewish law, contact was limited and quickly accomplished.
In Jesus’ case, his body was put in a “new tomb” belonging to one of his private disciples, Joseph of Arimathea. John tells us that Joseph was assisted by another secret adherent, Nicodemus.
The detail that this was a “new tomb” means there were no other human remains in it, no ossuaries. Jesus’ body would be the first one laid on the niche.
The Jews of this day believed that limestone did not transfer “uncleanness” in a ritualistic way. It is not surprising, then, to read that the tomb of Joseph was closed by a carved stone rolled into place at its doorway. Because the chief priests and Pharisees feared the disciples of Jesus might break into the tomb and steal the body, thus faking Jesus’ resurrection, the Romans agreed to post a guard and “seal” the tomb, presumably with some type of wax seal that would be broken if the entrance stone were disturbed in any way.
All of this is to say that there was no backdoor escape from this new tomb. Such would only have been a way for looters to break in.
There was no easy way to remove the stone securing the front of the tomb. When the women go to the tomb to further care for Jesus’ body on Sunday morning, a big concern for them was how they would roll the stone back and gain access. They know that three people would not have budged the stone.
There was no mistake concerning the body of Jesus, confusing him with one of the several other bodies in this tomb. There were no other bodies in it, nor any other human remains of any kind.
The open, empty tomb was not what any of Jesus’ disciples expected to find. John, an eyewitness to the empty tomb, admits that only later did he and the others begin to understand the significance. He of all people knew that Jesus had died on Friday, as he probably was one of those who helped take the body down from the cross. He records that he went inside the open tomb and saw for himself it was empty. He records this simply, “He saw and believed” (John 21:8). He did not see the Risen Christ. He saw the tomb was empty. There could be no other explanation than Jesus was indeed risen.
In one of my favorite Easter songs, Bill Gaither put it this way:
God sent His son, they called Him Jesus; He came to love, heal and forgive; He lived and died to buy my pardon, An empty grave is there to prove my Savior lives!
As we celebrate Resurrection Sunday today, may we chant with the church through the ages:
The saying that is written has come true: Death is swallowed up in victory. O Death, where is your sting? O Grave, where is your victory? Alleluia, Christ is risen! Thanks be to God! Alleluia, Christ is risen! Thanks be to God! Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Mark wrote his Gospel account in Rome for a Roman audience. He had gone there with Peter, and tradition says that his material reflects the “reminiscences” of the great Apostle’s preaching. Mark lays out his premise in the first verse:
John Wayne as Longinus the Centurion in “The Greatest Story Ever Told”
The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God.
He plans to show the reader that Jesus was indeed the Jewish Messiah, but also to prove to his Romans that Jesus was the “Son of God.” He has confidence that even hardened pagans will conclude Jesus is the Son of the Most High God. In his plan, Mark includes three great confessions of Jesus as God’s Son.
1. In Jesus’ opening scene, John baptizes him in the Jordan River. Mark records a voice from heaven (which we are to understand as the voice of God) saying, “You are my Son, whom I love, with you I am well pleased” (Mark 1:12). The first confession is by God from heaven itself.
2. At the midpoint of the book, Mark offers his version of the Transfiguration of Jesus. The central message in this story is said by a voice from a cloud (again, presumably the voice of God). The voice says, “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him” (Mark 9:7). This second confession is also from God but goes one step further than the first. The disciples (and the readers) should now have seen the validity of the confession at the baptism where God declared Jesus to be his Son. Jesus’ teachings and miracles in chapters 1-8 have confirmed this in many ways. The glory of the transfigured Christ was a spectacular confirmation of what the voice said.
3. At the end of the book, at the cross, when Jesus “breathes his last,” the circumstances of his death bring an unlikely person to faith as a confessor, the Roman centurion overseeing the executions on that day. Mark tells us:
When the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how he died, he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!” (Mark 15:39)
Centurions were the most respected Romans in foreign service. “Centurion” was a military rank (roughly equivalent to our “colonel”), but in peacetime they had various responsibilities in the community where they were stationed. They were leaders of men and had been proven in battle. They had shown administrative ability and were not known for being corrupt or for taking bribes. In the New Testament, several centurions seem to have had the respect of the Jewish community and the early church. The residents of Rome would have admired and even envied a centurion. He was brave, strong, and could retire as a rich man. Centurions had instant and widespread credibility.
The third confession of Jesus as the Son of God by the centurion brings the Roman reader to the place Mark intended from the first. Mark began by affirming Jesus as the Son of God. He records two times where God spoke from heaven to confirm this divine truth to Jesus’ followers. Finally, the esteemed Roman comes to the same conclusion. Mark wants the Centurion’s faith to become the faith of his readers. In some ways, this is the faith climax and point of the entire book.
“Truly this man was the Son of God.” In the darkness of Good Friday, this statement stands for eternity as the faith statement of a man we should hear. Jesus is the Son of God. Listen to him. Love him. Believe in him.
Prayer: Humble us, O Lord, to be like this man who was overwhelmed by Jesus’ grace and power in death. Give us faith to look forward to his resurrection and the overwhelming truth that truly Jesus was the Son of God. In his name we pray, Amen.
krausekorner 