A Journey with Jesus to the Cross and Beyond
by Tricia McCary Rhodes
DAY TWENTY-FOUR -- King of the Jews
Behold what great contempt hath the Lord of Majesty endured, that his confusion may be our glory; his punishment our heavenly bliss! Without ceasing impress this spectacle, O Christian, on thy soul!
Dionysius
Reflect
Come to God's throne today in reverence and awe for the power He holds over all things. Affirm His right to be Lord over your own life. Humble yourself before Him, asking Him to purify you from sin. Thank Him for the price He paid that you can come boldly into His throne-room.
Read the following Psalm aloud as a praise to the King of kings.
Ascribe to the LORD, O sons of the mighty, ascribe to the LORD glory and strength. Ascribe to the LORD the glory due to His name; worship the LORD in holy array. The voice of the LORD is upon the waters; the God of glory thunders, the LORD is over many waters. The voice of the LORD is powerful, the voice of the LORD is majestic...The voice of the LORD makes the deer to calve and strips the forests bare; and in His temple everything says, "Glory!" The LORD sat as King at the flood; yes, the LORD sits as King forever.
Psalm 29, selected
Write a prayer of worship and exaltation, personalizing His status in your own life.
Read
And they put up above His head the charge against Him, which read,
"THIS IS JESUS THE KING OF THE JEWS."
Matthew 27:37
For a moment, stillness surrounds the scene at Golgotha. Soldiers close their eyes for a morning nap, while on-lookers converse quietly, wondering how long they'll have to wait for the condemned to take their final breaths. John and the women do not take their eyes from Jesus face, hoping moment by moment for some sign that his suffering is coming to an end.
Jesus presses his feet together, digging his toes into the wood to lift himself up again. He spews out air, then gasps like a drowning swimmer who knows he is about to go under. His battered face has taken on a purplish hue, making him look grotesque and surreal. It is almost impossible to recognize him.
He drops back down, his face contorting with pain as the weight of his body drags on his weak arms. The inscription that his head pressed against a moment ago is now smeared with blood. Yet the words written on it can be clearly seen, even by those on the road below. This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.
These are sacred words, written in the language of the Hebrew Torah. They are powerful words, written in the language of the Roman conqueror Caesar. And they are universal words, written in Greek, the language that will soon record the Gospel of Christ for all the world and every generation to come.
The import and symbolism of the title has not been lost on Caiaphas, the chief priest. Confident that he has destroyed Jesus' influence in life, he now fears what could come of him embracing a martyr's death. He is furious that Pilate has encouraged such a thing by giving Jesus of Nazareth this epithet. Only a few minutes ago he sent a group to demand that the wording be changed.
The number of priests and elders on the mount has dwindled. Those that remain hover anxiously, whispering among themselves. Watching Caiphas seethe, they wonder what will happen if his demand is not met. They soon find out.
The return of the three priests breaks the stillness on the mount. Their visit has not been successful. Quickly they tell their story to the others. First they had demanded Christ's real crime of treason be listed on the sign with his name.
Shocked at Pilate's refusal, they regrouped, finally insisting that he at least add the words "He said I am" to the inscription, so everyone would know this was a false claim by a crazy zealot. But Pilate was adamant.
"What I have written, I have written" he had uttered through clenched teeth.
No one had dared argue further, and so they had left. Caiaphas questions them again and again, his voice growing louder and angrier. He is consumed with disgust for the Roman procurator.
Does anything in the heart of Jesus want to live up to this irreverent coronation? To rattle the earth beneath their feet or shatter the sky above them? Does he consider at all what he would gain by displaying his majestic might? Does he recall the beauty of the throne he once knew, as he hangs here from a cross on a hill called Golgotha?
The soldiers on guard duty, aroused by the noisy priests, begin to pace from cross to cross. If only this would go a little quicker. The one in the middle surely can't last much longer, but the other two could stay alive well past sundown.
One of them, curious after hearing the priest's interchange, examines the words written on each criminal's cross. He mulls over the message that hangs above Christ. This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.
But for now the king wears a crown of thorns. His majesty's royal robes have been left behind on heaven's gates, bloody stripes and gaping wounds adorning his shoulders instead. And the weight of a sin-sick world hangs from the nail-pierced hands that once fashioned it into being. Jesus is dying, but oh how slow the death.
Respond
Consider the physical agony Jesus now faces as He must lift Himself up on his feet in order to exhale. See the suffering on His face as He does. Know that to even look at Him is sickening. So His appearance was marred more than any man, and His form more than the sons of men. (Isaiah 52:41b).
Yet He is still the King of kings and Lord of lords. Contemplate the love that keeps Him from even now asserting His rightful place. Kneel at His feet and worship Him.
A Prayer
My King, I am your subject even now as your face, marred beyond recognition, looks down at me. I can still see the compassion in your weary eyes. I feel the weight of my sin pressing your shoulders down each time you must drop, your arms the only support your body knows. And I bow down. I wash your feet with my tears dear and precious Redeemer. What more can I do to ease your pain?
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