“Leading
Revolution Wearing a Crown of Thorns”
John 18:33-38; 19:1-18
First Presbyterian Church
Rev. Donald Ray
April 10, 2009
Good Friday
In the 18 inch deep upstairs hallway window sill of
our old stone farm house, my mother kept her crown of thorns plant. It
was right outside my bedroom door—I’m not sure if she was sending me a
message. As the plant grew its long
stems, we entwined them together to
shape a crown. Our little house
plant hardly compared to the thorny bushes native to
The Roman soldiers assigned the job of weaving the
thorn branches together must have been on demerits. I
can picture them, fuming at every thorn-prick, cursing the torn knuckle from a
stem springing loose; jamming the make-shift crown on Jesus’ head, enraged as
the thorns jabbed their fingers again; pushing the crown more violently into
Jesus scalp; more punctures in fingers and palms; finally letting go to nurse
their own wounds, leaving Jesus wearing the cause of their agony. Putting
the crown of thorns on Jesus’ head gives new credence to the statement, “he
bore our grief and carried our sorrows.”
When asked by Pilate if he was a king, Jesus
responded: “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.” (John 18:36)
That’s what the kingdoms of this world do, they
fight. Human history is the tale of
wars.
Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Concord Hymn written in
1837describes the impact of the battle of Old North Bridge in
“By
the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their
flag to April’s breeze unfurled;
Here
once the embattled farmer’s stood,
And
fired the shot heard ‘round the world”
The phrase, “The shot heard around
the world” became associated with the assassination of Archduke Franz
Ferdinand of
The debate goes on whether or not Jesus
was, by contemporary measures, a pacifist. Some
cite his direction to not resist the evil doer, turn the other cheek. Other’s
quote the word from Luke reporting Jesus to have said , “the one who has no
sword should sell his cloak to buy one.” Then
there is the picturing of an angry Jesus driving the traders out of the temple. I
have already addressed that in this Holy Week series. It
would seem to be more the cool and deliberate act of a janitor sweeping up the
place than a discontent in a violent fit of temper.
I have always considered myself a calm,
peace-loving kind of person. But I
am aware that there are times my reaction to specific situations in real time is
not always what I expected of myself. I
have espoused the philosophy that one cannot know whether he or she is a
pacifist or not until face to face with a real threat to what one values. Jesus
was crucified because his kingdom was not of this world, so he and his followers
did not fight. I believe in peace
enough to hope I would always stand for it. Standing
for peace, living as peace-makers is the way to finally end war.
The image of Jesus leading revolution
wearing a crown of thorns, is one of bearing that which does not merit battling.
The crown of thorns was painful; it
was a mocking indignity; it was a taunting provocation; but he wore it. The
crown of thorns was painful and irritating to those who wove it and placed it on
his head, swelling their rage, fueling the fire. But
Jesus did not add the accelerant. That
was something of an irritant to those provoking him, but it did not fire the
shot heard around the world that became the war to end war, that led to another
war, and another, and another.
The image of Palm Sunday Mark creates
is of Jesus looking around at offences to the nearest and dearest to his heart,
and going back to
The revolution he leads, wearing a
crown of thorns has its roots in communion with God in whom we live and move and
have our being. There, as did the
one we call Prince of Peace, we find the courage and strength to bear the pains
and indignities with the understanding and compassion for the ones inflicting
them that can lead to peace in love.
My experience with Good Friday from
many years ago has been in ecumenical services with pastors from the churches
involved preaching on the ‘”Seven Last Words of Jesus.”
Most were three hour services, literally interpreting the account of
darkness from noon to 3 PM, and to provide time enough for the preachers’
discourse on the seven utterances from the cross gleaned from the four Gospels. Frankly,
it was a pretty gruesome experience. One
could feel like they had been hanging on a cross by 3 PM.
A picture is worth a thousand words, it
has been said. I think that Good
Friday is better served in vision. I
have all too often been with families as they visited loved ones in critical
care in the hospital. Attention at
first goes to the equipment that monitor and treat and all the signs of
suffering. But then attention moves
to the person at the center of all it all and there is still the love and
character and treasure the person is.
For years after my infant son Philip
died, the picture in my mind was of that tiny body gasping for breath in the
isolette. Then somehow one day I saw
Philip, and I saw the courage and stamina that little person showed struggling
against insurmountable odds for life. Replaying
my image of the three short days of his life with the vision of the person he
was has profoundly impacted my life with the experience of his birth and death.
In the image of Jesus with a crown of
thorns on his head, we can see but the pain and blood and suffering; or we can
see Jesus, leading revolution of peace and love in all circumstances.
The highlight of our Good Friday
experience is Libby Nord’s dance of the crucifixion. There
is something about dance that, no matter it’s theme, conveys grace and power
and joy. May we, in our Good Friday
vision, see Jesus and all the faith and trust, love and peace, hope and joy at
soul of his life. In that vision we find the spirit that is the core of faith
and trust, love and peace, hope and joy in our living.
Amen.
©
Copyright 2009 First Presbyterian Church