For those who have been following this blog series, I hope you’ve learned that the gospel was above all else a kingdom announcement. It was a declaration that God was setting all things right again; sin, evil, injustice, oppression, suffering, and even death would be overcome. The world would be remade as a place of beauty and delight, justice and peace, abundance and flourishing. And it would be the Messiah, the king of Israel, who would be the agent who would establish and sustain the kingdom. The prophet Isaiah spoke of the Messiah in this way: “Of the increase of his government and peace, there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the LORD Almighty will accomplish this.” (Isaiah 9:7)
At this point, most readers might be asking themselves, “We’ve talked about creation, God’s kingdom, Israel’s covenant, the end of exile, and the coming of the Messiah, but we haven’t said anything about Jesus’ death! Isn’t Jesus death the most important thing in the gospel?” That’s a great question which we will now address. The reason we’ve put off discussion of Jesus’ death until now is that in order to fully understand what transpired on the cross, you must see Jesus as the climax of the long story of God, creation and Israel. Within that story, we’ve already talked about the Jewish expectations for the coming Messiah. Now I wish to introduce one more key element to that discussion. The Jews believed that the Messiah had a crucial task: in order to usher in the kingdom, the Messiah needed to fight and win the decisive battle against the forces of darkness and evil.
Most Jews at the time of Jesus thought they had a very clear idea of what this decisive battle would involve. The Messiah would be a warrior-king like his ancestor David. He would gather together the armies of Israel for a mighty confrontation with the hated pagan Romans who oppressed and enslaved them. Jesus saw things quite differently; he perceived that the true enemy was not the Romans per se, but the dark spiritual forces that had seized power over the world. Ancient Jews believed that the world had gone wrong because God’s image-bearing human creatures had rebelled against the worship and wisdom of God. But like the serpent in the garden, shadowy forces of evil were always there to deceive humans and incite them to rebellion. God created human beings to reflect his image; these malign forces relentlessly seek to deface and destroy the image of God in mankind.
One dramatic example of these evil powers is the incident which occurs in the region of the Gerasenes, on the opposite side of the sea of Galilee from Jesus’ hometown of Capernaum. Luke describes it like this: “When Jesus stepped ashore, he was met by a demon-possessed man from the town. For a long time this man had not worn cloths or lived in a house, but had lived in the tombs. When he saw Jesus, he cried out and fell at his feet, shouting at the top of this voice, ‘What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, don’t torture me!’ For Jesus had commanded the evil spirit to come out of the man. Many times it had seized him, and though he was chained hand and foot and kept under guard, he had broken his chains and had been driven by the demon into solitary places.” (Luke 8:27-29)
It would be difficult to paint a more tragic portrait of a person’s shattered humanity. This man had been driven away from family and friendship; he had lost all social connection. Without a home to protect him from the elements, he dwelt in naked isolation among the tombs of the dead. Mark adds, “Night and day among the tombs and in the hills he would cry out and cut himself with stones.” The man was not just violent towards himself but to others as well. People had learned to avoid this area. The evil spirits had done their work well; this man was far, far away from God’s loving intentions for humanity.
Jesus, of course, steps into this dreadful scene and immediately confronts the dark powers. He casts the demons into a nearby herd of pigs. (If there were any doubts about the destructive nature of these demonic powers, they should be dispelled when “the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned.”) Jesus restores the man’s humanity. It’s a magnificent tale about the salvage of a dearly loved human being. Sure, it’s only a small victory in a dark world. But it’s a sign of the bigger project that God is launching: the coming of his kingdom. In another place, Jesus says exactly this, “if I drive out demons by the finger of God, then the kingdom of God has come to you.” In other words, the time is coming when God will free – not just one man – but the whole human race from the affliction of these dark and demonic forces.
So in order to fully establish God’s kingdom, Jesus needed to fight and win the decisive battle against the forces of evil. The skirmishes he had with evil spirits during his ministry foreshadowed this ultimate battle and Jesus believed that he would win this battle by laying down his life. It’s well worth asking how in the world Jesus got that idea in his head. Well, in our study of the gospel we’ve already looked at some key passages in the latter part of Isaiah (esp. chapters 40-56) This section of Isaiah is all about the redemption of Israel; the “good news” that Israel’s exile will be ended. Her sins would be forgiven. No longer would she be ensnared by lifeless idols; rather, her heart would be turned back to the living God. Embedded within this section are several poems about a mysterious servant figure who would accomplish the redemption of Israel. The most well-known of these poems is found in Isaiah 53. There the servant restores Israel, not by military power, but through suffering and sacrifice.
“Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.” (Isaiah 53:4-6)
The book of Daniel also played a huge role in Jesus’ understanding of his task. Especially chapter 7, Daniel’s stunning vision where the terrifying beasts of pagan empire arise from the sea to oppress God’s people. Though for a time they suffer at the hands of the beasts, God eventually pronounces judgment in favor of his people and establishes his kingdom. Within this vision, there is a key human figure, “one like a son of man,” who represents Israel, “the people of the Most High.” After God destroys the power of the beasts, “[the son of man] was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all peoples, nations and men of every language worshiped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed.” Jews of Jesus’ day often interpreted the “son of man” as the Messiah, the king who would represent Israel. Jesus clearly shared this understanding. The key point is that Daniel 7 sets out a sequence whereby the Messiah, representing God’s people, must endure a time of suffering before being vindicated and receiving the kingdom.
It’s vitally important, then, to recognize that Jesus saw his death as the culmination of his entire ministry. He had announced the coming of God’s kingdom. He told stories about the kingdom. He performed signs demonstrating the power of the kingdom. And he had claimed to be God’s anointed king. But he realized that in order for the kingdom to become a reality, he would have to decisively defeat the powers of evil, and this victory would only come through his own suffering and death.
At this juncture, let’s consider the most well known symbol of victory and power in the ancient world: the Roman triumph. The triumph was massive celebration held in honor of a Roman general or emperor who had led his forces to a great military victory. Festivities began in the early morning hours on the Campus Martius, or field of Mars, the Roman god of war. There the elite Praetorian guard and the army would heap accolades on their commander, who would be given the title triumphator. The triumphator would be arrayed in a royal purple robe and given a crown to wear. The celebration next involved a magnificent procession through the streets of Rome, whereby the conquering hero could receive the adulation of the crowds. During this procession, the triumphator would be mounted upon a grand chariot drawn by four horses. The hero would be followed closely by a white sacrificial bull, accompanied by an official carrying a double edged ax, the instrument of death. The parade would conclude at the temple of Jupiter, located on the Capitoline hill. Roman legend held that in ancient times, a human head (latin: capita) had been discovered buried under this hill. (This was taken as a sign that Rome was destined to become head of all the world.) There at Jupiter’s temple, the bull would be arranged upon the altar of sacrifice. The triumphator would next be offered wine to drink. The wine was symbolic of the blood his armies had sacrificed to achieve victory. As such, the triumphator would refuse to drink the wine, but would instead pour it out upon the alter in honor of those who had shed their blood on behalf of Rome. At this moment, the bull would be sacrificed using the ax. The triumphator would then traditionally stand before the crowds, flanked on either side by his key lieutenants. During imperial times, the victory might well involve the decisive defeat of the triumphator’s rivals, allowing him to accede to the throne. It would then be, in effect, not just a celebration of his victory, but the moment of his royal enthronement. Finally, a herald would proclaim the triumphator as victor, and possibly as king. (“Ave, Caesar!”)
With the Roman Triumph in our heads, let’s re-look the account of the crucifixion in Mark 15:16-38. Jesus is brought to the Praetorium, the Roman military headquarters. There the Roman soldiers mockingly salute him as “the king of the Jews.” They adorn him in a royal purple robe and place a crown of thorns on his head. Jesus is then led on a grim procession through the streets of the city. Jesus is accompanied by Simon of Cyrene, who was compelled to carry the crossbeam – the instrument of death. Jesus is brought to the hill of execution, which in Aramaic is called Golgotha (“skull”) and in Latin Calvary (Latin calva = “skull” or “head”). Although he’s offered a mixture of wine and myrrh, Jesus doesn’t drink it. There on the hill Jesus is crucified, flanked on his right and left by bandits. While he hangs on the cross, Jesus is again taunted by the Jewish chief priests as the Messiah and the king of Israel. Finally, at the moment of his death, the Roman centurion proclaims, “Surely this man was the Son of God!” (Remember, “Son of God” was a royal term, indicating king or Messiah)
The parallels to the Roman Triumph are unmistakable. Mark is essentially offering us an upside-down Triumph. This comports well with Mark’s key theme of the Messiah as the suffering servant. Jesus was flogged, mocked, beaten, spat upon, and crucified. Yet for Mark, his suffering was nonetheless his Triumph, his great victory over evil. For most who witnessed Jesus crucified, this would have been the ultimate moment of humiliation and failure. But for the first Christians, the moment Jesus was lifted up on the cross represented his royal enthronement. As the inscription over his head attested, Jesus had indeed become “the king of the Jews” and the world’s true Lord. He had inaugurated the kingdom of God.
For most Christians, they look to the cross of Jesus and rightly see the expression of God’s love for them, that Jesus would take upon himself the sins of the world so that we might be forgiven. That is absolutely true. But I am eager that Christians might also understand the much larger framework within which our individual stories makes sense. We must see Jesus’ death as the great victory which overthrew all the dark forces of evil and established the kingdom of God. We must see the crucifixion as the moment when Jesus was enthroned as the king of the world. Everything that Christianity offers to us flows from this basic reality. Our individual forgiveness, reconciliation, renewed power, assurance and joy all represent the blessings of Jesus’ reign. So when we celebrate all we’ve been given through Jesus, let’s never forget that our individual victories derive their power from the paradoxical triumph of Israel’s king upon the cross.
