The King's Ransom
The King's Ransom
A sermon about the ironic revelation of King Jesus.
The Gospel of Mark tells the story of the coming of God's Kingdom. It's a story about how God becomes king over God's creation by overcoming sin and death.
God does this through the Jesus, the Christ, the Son of God. In the early chapters of Mark, we see Jesus exercise God's authority over demons and disease, over sin and death, and even over the wind and the waves.
Through Jesus's activity we see that the coming of the kingdom means healing, forgiveness, freedom, and a new way of life for his followers. Jesus describes his kingdom-bringing activity as gospel. It's good news.
But it's not good news to everyone. As Jesus exercises God's authority, he encounters resistance and opposition from the forces of nature and the forces of evil, from religious leaders and government officials, and from his confused disciples.
In response to this opposition, Jesus makes a series of startling predictions.
He predicts his conflict with the religious leaders will end with him suffering and dying a horrible death at the hands of the Romans in Jerusalem. He'll be crucified: a punishment so heinous, so shameful it was reserved for slaves, prisoners of war, and revolutionaries who dared challenge Rome's power.
He also predicts that his disciples will see the kingdom of God come in power. They will see God become King through Jesus.
But how can this be? How can the Kingdom come in power, if Jesus, the king, dies? Ancient kings established their kingdoms by defeating their enemies, not by letting their enemies defeat them.
Just what kind of king is Jesus supposed to be? Finally, we come to the answer to this question in Mark 15.
““Are you the king of the Jews?” asked Pilate. (Mark 15:2, NIV)
““Do you want me to release to you the king of the Jews?” asked Pilate,” (Mark 15:9, NIV)
““What shall I do, then, with the one you call the king of the Jews?” Pilate asked them.” (Mark 15:12, NIV)
“They put a purple robe on him, then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on him. And they began to call out to him, “Hail, king of the Jews!” Again and again they struck him on the head with a staff and spit on him. Falling on their knees, they paid homage to him.” (Mark 15:17–19, NIV)
“It was nine in the morning when they crucified him. The written notice of the charge against him read: the king of the jews.” (Mark 15:25–26, NIV)
“In the same way the chief priests and the teachers of the law mocked him among themselves. “He saved others,” they said, “but he can’t save himself! Let this Messiah, this king of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe.” Those crucified with him also heaped insults on him.” (Mark 15:31–32, NIV)
“And 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, NIV)
Mark's message is clear. Jesus is the King. This is his coronation and enthronement. What is surprising is how it is Jesus's opponents who repeatedly proclaim his identity.
Five times in this chapter Jesus is declared to be the King of the Jews. Three times by Pilate, once by the soldiers who crucify him, and once in writing to explain why he is being crucified.
The religious leaders who handed him over to the Romans mockingly refer to him as the Messiah, the King of Israel.
The Roman soldiers treat him as a king, dressing him in purple, the color of royalty, and placing a crown on his head. They bow down and pay homage to him.
A Roman centurion declares him to the Son of God, which was both a royal title for the Messiah, the Jewish King and for Caesar, the Roman Emperor.
Most of these declarations are used derisively to mock yet another failed messiah. There’s room to read the centurion's declaration, "Surely this man was the Son of God," as more sarcastic than serious.
The great irony is that as they are mocking Jesus, everything they say about him is true. He is the Christ, the King of Israel, the Son of God. He is the king through whom God is establishing God’s kingdom, but his throne is a cross and his crown is made of thorns.
Mark set us up for this moment of ironic revelation back in chapter 10 when James and John ask to sit at Jesus's right and left when he comes into his glory. Jesus says those two spots have already been reserved for others.
“They crucified two rebels with him, one on his right and one on his left.” (Mark 15:27, NIV)
Now Mark makes sure we see that Jesus is crucified between two rebels, one on his right and one on his left. This is the moment of Jesus's glory. This is how Jesus becomes king.
I love Sir Frank Dicksee’s painting, The Two Crowns.1 It portrays two very different kings. One is a medieval king riding into the city on his warhorse after a victory on the battlefield. The other wears a crown of thorns and hangs from a cross. The surprised look on the face of the king with the crown of gold suggests a moment of recognition, as though he realizes who is the true King of Kings.
It's this ironic revelation that invites us into the "mysterium tremendum," the tremendous mystery of the cross. There is no way around it. If you are a Christian, if you are almost a Christian, if you are going let your allegiance to Jesus shape your life, you have to enter this mystery.
I didn't say you have to completely understand it. I didn't say it has to make sense rationally. I said you have to enter it and live within it and let it live within you.
Here's the mystery: When it appears Jesus is losing, when it appears the darkness is prevailing, Jesus is actually winning. When his opponents think they're mocking and shaming him, they're actually glorifying and speaking the truth about him. When the powers think they're getting rid of him, they're actually cooperating with him to establish a kingdom no one can get rid of, although many have tried.
When it appears like God has abandoned Jesus, his Father in heaven is actually validating him by tearing open the curtain in the temple just as he tore open the heavens when Jesus was baptized. When Jesus cries out and dies, it appears he has been defeated, when the truth is he has just achieved a victory.
Just before he dies, Jesus quotes the opening line of Psalm 22, a lament of someone who feels abandoned by God.
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Psalm 22:1, NIV)
It's not hard to see why Jesus would pray this from the cross. He is completely isolated. His friends have deserted and denied him. The religious leaders have rejected him. The Romans are killing him. Bystanders are taunting him. The rebels on his right and left are insulting him. The weight of the world's sin is on his shoulders, and he bears the burden by himself.
But what we often miss is the larger message of Psalm 22. A message Jesus knew by heart. It starts out as a lament (My God, my God), but it ends with a declaration of victory.
“I will declare your name to my people; in the assembly I will praise you. You who fear the Lord, praise him! All you descendants of Jacob, honor him! Revere him, all you descendants of Israel!
For he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.
From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly; before those who fear you I will fulfill my vows.
The poor will eat and be satisfied; those who seek the Lord will praise him— may your hearts live forever!
All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the Lord, and all the families of the nations will bow down before him, for dominion belongs to the Lord and he rules over the nations.
All the rich of the earth will feast and worship; all who go down to the dust will kneel before him— those who cannot keep themselves alive.
Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord. They will proclaim his righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it!” (Psalm 22:22–31, NIV)
This is the mystery of the crucifixion. What is a cry of despair is also King Jesus achieving a victory.
In Mark 10, Jesus described his death as a ransom, a price paid to set slaves free. The king's ransom was the king himself.
What does it look like when God becomes king? When sins are forgiven? When slaves are set free? When evil is defeated?
It looks like Jesus, naked and bloody, on the cross.
We may prefer to follow a bright-shiny king, but the King who saved us and sets us free was bruised and bloodied.
From the cross, glory of King Jesus doesn't shine so much as it bleeds.
May God open our eyes to see this glory and may we join the psalmist in declaring: Our God has done it. Jesus is King!
Thanks to Brian Zahnd for pointing me toward this wonderful work of art.
Wow! This is so good. Thank you. It really spoke to me this morning, especially in this most holy of weeks.
Wade, the Kingdom is built on many things that at first felt so wrong, yet I have seen proven to be true in my own life in the last 14 years. The first incident happened with the words of a faithful believing stranger (who became a trusted friend), "Bart, we barely know each other. However, I am convinced I am supposed to ask you something in response to your repeated comment, "I need a miracle to save my family." What is if God allows your ill-advised marriage to fail yet transforms you into the man he wants you to be, walking beside you as you learn to trust him to heal the wounds you have caused your children? Are you open to that miracle?"
Believe me, what I thought when asked the question would not be suitable for a stand-up comedy routine on a streaming service. God knew I would respond in that manner. Despite my arrogance and pseudo-spirituality, which was unmasked in one sentence, Over the past 14 years, I have experienced and been humbled by others, confirming that is what began and continues to occur.
The tremendous mystery indeed! Thanks for installment this morning.