Golgotha Could Not Defeat Him

Matthew 27:27-61

Welcome! Today we continue our four-week series on the events of the arrest, trails, crucifixion, and resurrection of Christ as told in Matthew’s Gospel. Today we are going to focus on the events right before the crucifixion and on the crucifixion itself, but I want to back up a bit to the exchange with Pilate.

Meanwhile Jesus stood before the governor, and the governor asked Him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” “You have said so,” Jesus replied. When He was accused by the chief priests and the elders, He gave no answer. Then Pilate asked Him, “Don’t you hear the testimony they are bringing against you?” But Jesus made no reply, not even to a single charge—to the great amazement of the governor. – Matt. 27:11-14

Unlike the other gospels, Matthew’s focus in the account of these events is not on fulfilled prophecy, or even, in some respects, on Jesus Himself – instead, His focus is on all the people around Jesus. One of the powerful effects of this approach to writing the account, which I believe was inspired by God as is all of Scripture, is that we see the scene as those there saw it – Jesus is not seen as the Son of God, as someone deserving awe and respect and even worship, but instead as someone weak, outnumbered, out-powered, out-smarted. If this were a chess match, we are seeing Jesus about to be defeated. His pieces are mostly gone, and the other side is in total control, able to checkmate him whenever they want. And like a cat that plays with its prey, even pretending to let it go but them capturing it again, the priests and elders are enjoying this moment. They know they have won. They know it, and they know Jesus knows it. Pilate doesn’t yet know it. He expects Jesus to keep fighting. He is amazed that He is not trying at all.

Now, I’ll say this once – this narrative is absolutely false in the sense that Jesus has not been out-anythinged. He has orchestrated events to this moment. He is in absolute submission to the will of His Father, but if He were to go out of that submission, even for a moment, He could not only free Himself but destroy everyone attacking Him in a second. But nobody in this trial knows this except Jesus. Again, Matthew is not going to bring this out, because He is focusing solely on the events as they happen. And even in these events He is being selective – He is focusing on the people who are opposed, or at least involved in, Jesus’ judgment and sentence. The priests and elders are giving false and nonsensical charges against Jesus. Jesus is not responding. Pilate is amazed.

Now it was the governor’s custom at the festival to release a prisoner chosen by the crowd. At that time they had a well-known prisoner whose name was Jesus Barabbas. So when the crowd had gathered, Pilate asked them, “Which one do you want me to release to you: Jesus Barabbas, or Jesus who is called the Messiah?” For he knew it was out of self-interest that they had handed Jesus over to him. – Matt. 27:15-18

Not every early manuscript has the name as Jesus Barabbas; some simply say Barabbas. Early Bible manuscripts agree in 99.9% of their words, but not 100%. This is one of those few places where they don’t fully agree. It is a small thing whether the prisoner’s name was Jesus Barabbas or just Barabbas. But I think this is accurate, as the very earliest manuscripts have it, and it also makes more sense out of Pilate’s wording. There was no need to say “Jesus who is called the Messiah” – they were in the middle of the trial of Jesus, and just saying Jesus would have been absolutely clear. In any case, we again see more into Pilate’s head. He was amazed that Jesus wouldn’t respond, because it was clear to him that the charges were trumped up and ridiculous. And it is clear to him that they hate Jesus and are just using this “trial” as a way to get rid of Him.

Pilate didn’t like being used by the Jewish leaders. As Jonathan explained last week, Pilate had a history with them, and he didn’t like them. Apart from the fact that he doesn’t think Jesus is guilty, he doesn’t want to do the leaders’ dirty work, so he goes to the people, the crowds who are witnesses of what is going on. Of course, Pilate thinks, they will want Jesus released rather than Barabbas, who as it says was a well-known (notorious) criminal. Pilate likes this move because it will further frustrate and embarrass the Jewish leaders. But his plan is thwarted by an untimely interruption:

While Pilate was sitting on the judge’s seat, his wife sent him this message: “Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him.” But the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus executed. – Matt. 27:19-20

This interruption takes at least a few minutes. I would love to know what the dream was, but we won’t know this side of heaven. But interestingly she calls Jesus innocent. Ironically, her very request for leniency causes Pilate’s plan to go sideways. Although he is not mentioned specifically in this scene, I see this as a victory for Satan, and I am sure Satan saw this as a victory for himself. The timing couldn’t have been worse. (Again, from God’s perspective, everything was right on schedule, but Matthew is not going to point this out.) So those few minutes were enough for the leaders to “work the crowd,” to convince them that yes, Jesus was an even worse menace than Barabbas, that they should ask for Barabbas to be released. Maybe they explained that Barabbas was a repeat offender, and would be caught again soon enough. Maybe they explained that Barabbas might hurt a few more people, but Jesus was a threat to the entire Temple economy – remember how He overturned the tables? In any case, they succeeded to sway the crowd:

“Which of the two do you want me to release to you?” asked the governor. “Barabbas,” they answered. “What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” Pilate asked. They all answered, “Crucify him!” “Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate. But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!” When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!” – Matt. 27:21-24

And so the Jewish leaders win after all. Pilate’s bold move did not achieve anything except to result in a terrible prisoner becoming released and to work up the crowd in a way that was dangerous to Pilate’s own political future, if not his life. Rome saw the Jews as a pesky, annoying group that was quick to riot, quick to revolt, and Pilate’s main job was to keep them from doing this. The Jews were the opposite of a nice compliant group who followed the laws of Rome. All kinds of exceptions to the Roman laws had been made to the Jews just to keep them in line, and the fact that these exceptions were made bothered Rome. The Jews were almost more trouble than they were worth. I am sure there were frequent discussions about whether just to go to war and wipe them all out (keeping the few that survived as slaves spread throughout the Roman world). Ultimately, in 70 AD, about 40 years later, this is exactly what happened. At that point the Romans finally had had enough.

Pilate is sick of these Jews too. He uses the water as a powerful picture of his disassociation with their schemes. Of course, it is not that easy. Pilate was in fact guilty, because the decision, and the responsibility of that decision, was his, and ultimately, his alone. Pilate had another choice, but he didn’t want to take is because he didn’t like the consequences. The truth is that Pilate simply went the way of political expediency. That decision was on him. And then we come to one of the saddest and most shocking verses, in my opinion, in the entire Bible:

All the people answered, “His blood is on us and on our children!” – Matt. 27:25

Wow! How could anyone say such a thing? I think by it they meant that sure, they would take full responsibility for the crucifixion, as long as Pilate ensured that it actually happened. “Fine, whatever, his blood is on us. Just go crucify him!” But even with the “whatever” attitude, to essentially invoke a curse on your own children – this is shocking to me.

Now unbeknown to anyone there shouting for His crucifixion, the people, in the greatest possible irony, actually spoke a deep truth. His blood was not only on them and their children, but on us and our children as well. His blood was shed for all sinners, and His blood alone provides a means for our being saved from God’s appropriate wrath.

Returning to the events as Matthew unfolds them:

Then he released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed Him over to be crucified. – Matt 27:26

Jonathan spoke last week about the brutality of the flogging, how in the end it leaves the victim’s entire back a shredded, bloody mess. The punishment, if not given out by experienced and skilled “practitioners” could very easily be fatal, if not during the administration, then some amount of time after. Matthew says surprisingly little about this action – essentially he says nothing. Why does Matthew not say more? Maybe out of decency, maybe because his initial readers knew exactly what was involved, or maybe because Matthew’s focus, led by God, was to focus on the groups of people who came into contact with Jesus rather than the few “professionals” who actually flogged Him. I think maybe it was for all of these reasons.

Then the governor’s soldiers took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers around Him. They stripped Him and put a scarlet robe on Him, and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on His head. They put a staff in His right hand. Then they knelt in front of Him and mocked Him. “Hail, king of the Jews!” they said. They spit on Him, and took the staff and struck Him on the head again and again. After they had mocked Him, they took off the robe and put His own clothes on him. Then they led Him away to crucify Him. – Matt. 27:27-31

Who are these soldiers? They weren’t Jews. In one of those many accommodations made to Jews that annoyed Rome, one was that they didn’t have to serve in the army. Normally, a group of soldiers would primarily come from the regions where they served. This way they knew the culture and the local language and could more easily navigate the culture in such a way so as to maintain control and avoid riots and other flare-ups. The soldiers in this case were probably mostly Syrians or other Arabs. Did they know anything about this Jesus? No, probably not. Did they like the Jews? No, not just because the Jews were such a nuisance, but also because of ancient hatred and an adversarial relationship that went all the way back to Esau. What they knew of Jesus was that He was accused of being king of the Jews. And yet, here He was, captured, sentenced to die, beaten to a pulp. This was funny to them. “Hey, Jews! You wanted a king! Well here’s your king! Ha, ha! He doesn’t look like much of a king to us; in fact, he looks like the village idiot because he doesn’t even say anything! But hey, if he’s your king, we’ll help you make him look more kingly.” And so they tore off his clothes, including the tunic that was stuck to His back by blood as a result of the scourging, causing unimaginable pain, and then they put on Him some old military style robe, scarlet, with likely the purple laticlavus, the broad badge of two purple stripes worn by senators and other high-ranking officials. They made a crown of thorns and pushed it roughly on His head, causing more blood to flow.  And they gave him a staff (literally a large reed), to serve as a kingly scepter, for every king needs his scepter. Then, in purely evil cruelty, they mocked Him, saying “Hail, king of the Jews,” they spat on Him, and they took the reed from Him and beat Him with it, laughing all the while. Eventually they finished, and ultimately they brought Him out for crucifixion. There were some other things that happened in between, as Pilate tries one more time to get the Jews to forget abandon their desire for crucifixion, to say, in effect, “Look at Him!” Isn’t that enough? But Matthew does not highlight these events, so we too will move on.

As they were going out, they met a man from Cyrene, named Simon, and they forced him to carry the cross. They came to a place called Golgotha (which means “the place of the skull”). There they offered Jesus wine to drink, mixed with gall; but after tasting it, He refused to drink it. When they had crucified Him, they divided up His clothes by casting lots. And sitting down, they kept watch over Him there. Above His head they placed the written charge against him: this is jesus, the king of the jews. – Matt. 27:32-37

As part of Jewish Law, execution was to take place only “outside the camp,” so the Jews required crucifixion to take place outside of Jerusalem. From the Roman perspective, this was yet another accommodation made to these annoying people. The Romans used crucifixion as a deterrent, as a reminder of what happens when you try to defy the power of Rome, so crucifixions were normally done alongside heavily traveled roads.

Now Jesus was so weak from His scourging and all the rest of the abuse heaped upon Him that, as they were going out, it was clear that He was not strong enough to carry His own cross, which was the usual practice. Some of the Roman soldiers could have carried it, but that was unnecessary work when you could just abuse your power and force someone else, even a stranger, to do the work for you. So that is what they did – this man from Cyrene was conscripted to do the task, and he had no choice but to obey. To get out of the city, they went through busy streets, exceptionally busy because of the Passover, as a kind of procession; guards in front and behind, and either Jesus Himself or perhaps a soldier or even the man from Cyrene holding or wearing a sign explaining who the person was and their crime. Matthew does not mention that there were in fact people, followers of Jesus, mostly women, who were weeping behind Him, and He told them not to weep for Him but for them and their children because of the judgment that would be coming. Almost certainly He was referring to the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD. But Matthew does not mention this.

They went to a place whose location we are not sure of today, a place called Golgotha, which means skull place. It is skull, singular, not skulls, plural, so many think the location was either some kind of curved, flat hill, like the top of a skull, or a place in which there was some kind of feature that looked like a skull. There is a location in which there are caves in the side of a hill that look like a skull, and the way immediately below the caves was (and still is) a major road, so it is possible that this was the location. But we really don’t know.  In any case, they got there, presumably released this man from his duty, and began to set thing up for the crucifixion.

Matthew says the next thing they did was offer Jesus a drink of wine mixed with gall, something bitter, a drugged wine. Mark says the drug is myrrh. Jesus tasted it but refused to drink it. Why did they do this? To further taunt Jesus? As a surprising act of mercy? Or for some other reason?

From other sources, we know quite a bit about this. The drink was not something the army made, but something it was given. The people that gave it to them were a group of wealthy Jewish women in Jerusalem. They saw it as a mission of mercy, to relieve in some small way the amount of suffering that the crucified experienced before dying. Now why did the soldiers, with all their cruelty, agree to offer this? It certainly wasn’t in keeping with their character for them to do something out of a desire for mercy, for less suffering.  No, the reason was much more pragmatic. Crucifixion required hammering large nails through the wrists and feet/ankles, and giving the drugged wine calmed the victims down a little so that they didn’t try to fight it so hard while the task was done. In other words, it made the job a little easier for the soldiers. Most crucifixions lasted many hours, so the drugged wine would wear off, and the person would still experience unimaginable agony as they were on the cross waiting to die. So no, this wasn’t about mercy, but about expedience. In any case, Jesus sipped it but then refused to drink it. We aren’t told why, but I think it was that He never wanted it said that He did anything to minimize the suffering that He willingly bore for our sin.

I don’t want to be overly graphic – Matthew also does not go into the gory details – but Jesus was crucified. After being nailed to the cross, probably with additional ties around the wrists, probably with a small seat to somewhat support the body, Jesus was lifted up and the cross put into a hole in the ground. The feet were likely only a little higher than the ground, as no additional height was necessary. Each breath was an experience of extreme pain. The pain in the hands and feet would only get worse as time went on. The body would also succumb to severe cramping, only adding to the pain. It was common that those crucified would begin to beg and plead with passersby to, for pity’s sake, kill them. Sometimes when a rich person was crucified, his family would arrange large bribes to be paid to the soldiers to hasten the death or even strangle the person before raising him up, so terrible was the torture of the cross. The nature of the cross was that people rarely fell unconscious; the pain was terrible but the relief of unconsciousness never came.

The soldiers basically had babysitting duty, making sure nobody took Jesus down before He died. With little else to do, they cast lots for His clothing, and waited. Probably they ate and drank, and played gambling games to pass the time. They were numb to the fact that they were responsible for inflicting unimaginable torturous pain on Jesus. The sign that was paraded in front of Jesus when He went to the cross was now on top, for all to see – another gospel explains it was in three languages, Aramaic, Hebrew, and Greek, so that just about everyone could read the charge. Another gospel points out that, maybe for the first time, the Jews realized that this sign wasn’t right – that it should have said something like “He claimed to be King of the Jews”. They went to Pilate to have it changed, but he refused. He had had entirely enough of them, and if they were offended, good, he almost certainly thought.

Two rebels were crucified with Him, one on His right and one on His left. Those who passed by hurled insults at Him, shaking their heads and saying, “You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! Come down from the cross, if you are the Son of God!” In the same way the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders mocked Him. “He saved others,” they said, “but He can’t save Himself! He’s the king of Israel! Let Him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in Him. He trusts in God. Let God rescue Him now if He wants Him, for He said, ‘I am the Son of God.’” In the same way the rebels who were crucified with Him also heaped insults on Him. – Matt. 27:38-44

The site was a busy road, and people saw it was Jesus, and mocked Him, even in His torturous state. Regular people did this, as did the priests and teachers and elders. Even the two other thugs who were on crosses next to Him did the same. Another gospel tells of a later repentance of one of these two, but Matthew continues to focus on the evil of all the men, Jews and Gentiles, leaders and followers, against Jesus. Jesus could have replied – the crucifixion certainly did not prevent Him from speaking – but, unlike even the rebels, He chose to remain silent.  In other gospels we are told a few other things Jesus said – none of them condemning or angry. One was the great kindness of “Woman, behold your son” to Mary, and “behold your mother” to John.

From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land. About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”). When some of those standing there heard this, they said, “He’s calling Elijah.” Immediately one of them ran and got a sponge. He filled it with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink. The rest said, “Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to save him.” – Matt. 27:45-49

The land turned dark. It was unnatural; it was most likely not an eclipse. Did they not sense that maybe this darkness was related to Jesus being on the cross? They had to become nervous. Wouldn’t you?  But Matthew points out that even now, the taunting continued. They thought it a grand joke to change “Eli” or “Eloi” into some kind of short form for “Eliyahoo”, Elijah. Kind of hidden in the joke was the idea that Jesus was too stupid to be able to say Elijah’s full name, as if He was the “village idiot.” Actually much of the taunting and mocking, from the actions of the soldiers on, was in this vein. Jesus’ lack of response may have been viewed as a sign of idiocy. In some ways, this makes their taunts only crueler.

And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, He gave up His spirit. – Matt. 27:50

And with that, the Son of God did the unimaginable; He died. He died of His own accord, of His own will, in perfect harmony with the will of God the Father, but that made it no less terrible.

At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared to many people. When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, “Surely he was the Son of God!” – Matt. 27:51-54

What was it like to be one of the few priests that saw the curtain tear, to hear that awful noise, to see the result? The symbolism runs deep – on the one hand, a tearing of garments was a traditional sign of mourning; here God Himself was mourning. The darkness, too, was in some ways symbolic of mourning; specifically it had some similarities with covering oneself in ashes. The rending of the huge curtain also seemed to say that the sacrificial system was broken, that God’s presence would no longer be in the location of the holy of holies. To a Jewish priest, they might not have understood all the symbolism but they knew it was bad, very bad. Some commentators point out that the tearing of the curtain was also a sign of the fact that the separation between man and God, the unapproachability of God due to His holiness and man’s sinfulness, was also ended, but I am pretty sure that nobody there at that time still reeling from the darkness saw it that way.

On top of all this was the earthquake. This would only add to the sense of fear that they had messed up, really badly. As for the risen people, this is a hard passage to translate but it seems that they only went out into Jerusalem after Jesus’ resurrection. The earthquake opened their graves, and perhaps they even rose from the dead at this time, but their going into the city came later.   

Notice that at last the Roman soldiers are “moved.” They have never seen anything like this, and as a result they begin to fear. Perhaps they had really taunted the Son of God; perhaps that is who He really was!

Many women were there, watching from a distance. They had followed Jesus from Galilee to care for his needs. Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of Zebedee’s sons. – Matt. 27:55-56

When it comes to humanity’s response to Jesus, women were truly the only bright spot. The disciples were mostly absent, Peter had denied even knowing Jesus, the Jews wanted Him crucified, and the Jewish leaders and Roman soldiers and passersby taunted and ridiculed Him. Women had followed Him to Golgotha, women were behind the mercy of the drugged wine (which Jesus refused but it was still a mercy), and women stayed with Him to the end. To me it is not surprising then that women receive the supremely high honor of discovering that Jesus rose from the dead, but that is getting ahead of the story.

As evening approached, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who had himself become a disciple of Jesus. Going to Pilate, he asked for Jesus’ body, and Pilate ordered that it be given to him. Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and placed it in his own new tomb that he had cut out of the rock. He rolled a big stone in front of the entrance to the tomb and went away. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting there opposite the tomb. – Matt. 27:57-61

Here we at last see one man who does something noble. It took great boldness to go to Pilate and ask for Jesus’ body; Pilate could have had Joseph arrested as one of Jesus’ followers. One of the other gospels points out that he had help, from Nicodemus, with burial spices, large quantities of them. They had Jesus wrapped, and Joseph had Jesus put in his own tomb. He (and presumably his servants) had all this done and then rolled the stone shut. Again, women watched.

Jesus’ time on the cross was shorter than average, but that was due to the horrible things done to Him prior to being lifted up. Because of those terrible wounds on His back, the whole experience was dramatically more painful than a “normal” crucifixion. And I need to point out that Matthew’s account, and indeed, all four accounts, leave out the effects of what had to be the worst torture of all, Jesus being rejected by God the Father. This is far beyond our ability to understand. But Jesus became a sin offering; all the sins of the world were laid on Him, and as a result, all the wrath of God in response to those sins was laid on Him as well. We will never have more than the faintest inkling of what that was like.

And then He died. That moment was the climax of history. Some will argue that the resurrection is the climax, but it was at His death that the sins of man were paid for. The resurrection proves that it is all true, but a proof of an event is not the climax; the event itself is. Even an unbeliever has to agree it has changed the world forever. Farrar writes in “The Life of Christ” the following:

“The effects, then, of the work of Christ are even to the unbeliever indisputable and historical. […] There was hardly a class whose wrongs it did not remedy. It rescued the gladiator; it freed the slave; it protected the captive; it nursed the sick; it sheltered the orphan; it elevated the woman; it shrouded as with a halo of sacred innocence the tender years of the child. In every region of life its ameliorating influence was felt. It changed pity from a vice into a virtue. It elevated poverty from a curse into a beatitude. It ennobled labor from a vulgarity into a dignity and a duty. It sanctified marriage from little more than a burdensome convention into little less than a blessed sacrament. It revealed for the first time the angelic beauty of a Purity of which men had despaired and of a Meekness at which they had utterly scoffed. It created the very conception of charity, and broadened the limits of its obligation from the narrow circle of a neighborhood to the widest horizons of the race. And while it thus evolved the idea of Humanity as a common brotherhood, even where its tidings were not believed, all over the world, wherever its tidings were believed, it cleansed the life and elevated the soul of each individual man. And in all lands where it has molded the characters of its true believers, it has created hearts so pure, and lives so peaceful, and homes so sweet, that it might seem as though those angels who had heralded its advent had also whispered to every depressed and despairing sufferer among the sons of men, ‘Though you have lain among the pots, yet you shall be as the wings of a dove, that is covered with silver wings, and her feathers like gold.’”