Then they took Jesus from Caiaphas to Pilate’s headquarters. It was early in the morning. They themselves did not enter the headquarters, so as to avoid ritual defilement and to be able to eat the Passover. So Pilate went out to them and said, “What accusation do you bring against this man?” They answered, “If this man were not a criminal, we would not have handed him over to you.” Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and judge him according to your law.” The Jews replied, “We are not permitted to put anyone to death.” (This was to fulfill what Jesus had said when he indicated the kind of death he was to die.) Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Pilate asked him, “What is truth?” After he had said this, he went out to the Jews again and told them, “I find no case against him. But you have a custom that I release someone for you at the Passover. Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” They shouted in reply, “Not this man, but Barabbas!” Now Barabbas was a bandit. Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. And the soldiers wove a crown of thorns and put it on his head, and they dressed him in a purple robe. They kept coming up to him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” and striking him on the face. Pilate went out again and said to them, “Look, I am bringing him out to you to let you know that I find no case against him.” So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, “Here is the man!” When the chief priests and the police saw him, they shouted, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and crucify him; I find no case against him.” The Jews answered him, “We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die because he has claimed to be the Son of God.” Now when Pilate heard this, he was more afraid than ever. He entered his headquarters again and asked Jesus, “Where are you from?” But Jesus gave him no answer. Pilate therefore said to him, “Do you refuse to speak to me? Do you not know that I have power to release you, and power to crucify you?” Jesus answered him, “You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above; therefore the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin.” From then on Pilate tried to release him, but the Jews cried out, “If you release this man, you are no friend of the emperor. Everyone who claims to be a king sets himself against the emperor.”
(John 18:28-19:12)
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It’s a somewhat strange conjunction of dates whenever Good Friday falls on March 25. It doesn’t happen very often. The last time Good Friday occurred on March 25 was 2005. Before that you have to go back to 1932. The next time Good Friday occurs on March 25 is the year 2157. It doesn’t happen very often. If you’re wondering why I find it significant that March 25 is Good Friday this year, it’s because March 25 also represents another day on the Christian calendar. March 25 is always Annunciation Day. That’s not a day that Protestants generally think about very much, but I noticed the combination a few months ago, and it occurred to me again last Sunday when, on Palm Sunday, I mentioned that Holy Week is something like a roller coaster of emotions - from the heights of joy to the depths of despair. That roller coaster is on display today. Good Friday commemorates the death of Jesus, and for those who didn’t realize it, Annunciation Day is exactly 9 months before Christmas, and it’s the day that some Christians set aside to mark the visit of the angel Gabriel to Mary to tell her that she would be pregnant and would give birth to a son, whom she was to name “Jesus.”
You can’t understand Easter without Christmas, and you can’t understand the death of Jesus without some understanding of the birth of Jesus. Making connections between the two is something of a theme for me this weekend, and those connections started for me when I realized that the death of Jesus would be commemorated on the same day that the upcoming birth of Jesus was announced.
I was thinking about the various stories involved with the beginning and the end of Jesus’ life, and one thing stood out for me: from the beginning to the end, Jesus was recognized as a king. To Mary, the angel said about Jesus that “he will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David, … and of his kingdom there will be no end.” The magi searched the newborn baby out by going to King Herod and asking, “where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?” Thirty years later, Roman soldiers would place a crown of thorns upon his head, and over his dead body would be posted a sign that read “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.” It was always known. Here was a king.
The crown of Jesus’ birth were different than the crown of Jesus’ death - but they served the same purpose. They set Jesus aside. He was different; unique - even unsettling. At the beginning of his life we’re told that the birth of Jesus caused Herod and all Jerusalem to be disturbed. It goes without saying that as his life approached its end, Pilate and all Jerusalem were disturbed. Jesus always disturbs the world - and so he should. Jesus calls for change - a new way of understanding the world and those around us. And he paid a price for it. And we gaze soberly upon the symbol of that price, and ponder his command that we take up our own crosses, wondering just what price we might be called upon to pay.
This is Good Friday. It’s the one time of the year that we gather as Christians with little to celebrate. Our gatherings are sombre; our spirits are downcast. Today we look upon the cross not as the sign of victory, pointing us upward to God’s heavenly realm, but rather as an instrument of torture and death, and we reflect on and are saddened by the state of humanity that made it so. And yet, we’re also touched by the love of a God who - in the flesh of Jesus - would make the supreme sacrifice of love to bring grace to all and to reconcile the world to himself.
This is Good Friday - a sombre, downcast day that still reminds us that in everything - birth and death, beginning and end, joy and sorrow, laughter and tears, health and sickness - God is present, and there is always hope. And so we will leave this place quietly but still with hope. Because we know that the story hasn’t ended, and there’s another chapter still to be written.
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