Crucify Him?

Would you have yelled it? Maybe not. But you must.

Sometimes around Easter churches will do a live reading of the gospel account of the crucifixion, maybe even a drama. I’ve seen it done a few different ways, but in each case, when the time comes, the church assembly is called to yell with the crowd in Jerusalem, “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” It’s in Catholic and Anglican liturgies. Lutheran churches do it. Evangelicals. When those words are read, everyone joins in.

The point is to remind you of you own sinfulness, to teach you, you’re no better than the people in that crowd. That could have been you.

I hate it.

There’s this line in the song “How Deep the Father’s Love For Me” (a song we sang at least once a month when I lived in Texas): “Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice / Call out among the scoffers.” The whole song is a reflection on the crucifixion, pulling us into the drama and emotion of the moment. There I am in the crowd; that’s my voice. Am I a scoffer? I wonder every time I sing it, Would I really have mocked Jesus on the cross?

Maybe. Maybe not.

This week I read a great article from Nadia Boltz Webber on how quickly Palm Sunday turned into Good Friday, how easily the people shifted from “Hosanna” to “Crucify Him!” She writes, “I am embarrassed about how sure they seem of themselves and how miserably they are about to fail when put to the test; how quickly their shouts go from hail him to nail him.”

As a lesson and generalization, this is powerful stuff. Many of us are too quick to give up on what’s not working, to abandon God when His plan is slow or unconventional. I was thankful for the reminder.

But I don’t want to miss the particulars here. It is simply inaccurate to say that the people who welcomed Jesus into the city were the same people who cheered for His death. Some of them—that’s possible. But not all. Perhaps not even most.

The population of Jerusalem in Jesus’ day was somewhere around 50,000 people. During a festival, however, the city’s size might swell closer to 200,000. Ancient cities were small with narrow roads running between closely packed buildings opening into the occasional plaza or courtyard. Even if those yelling “Crucify Him!” had gathered in a plaza the size of the coliseum, only a quarter of the people in Jerusalem would have been in that crowd. But there was no space like the coliseum. The crowd gathered here gathers in Pilate’s courtyard which might have held a few hundred people. Let’s be generous and say a thousand. In John’s gospel he only mentions the Pharisees, scribes and officers in the crowd. In the other gospels, the crowd is incited by the Jewish leaders. Nothing in the details of this account indicate that Jesus’ followers suddenly switch sides en masse. The apostles weren’t in that crowd. Jesus’ mother wasn’t there. It’s safe to say LOTS of people did NOT cry, “Crucify Him!” or mock Him.

Would you have been in that crowd? Maybe. But maybe not. It’s okay if you’re a disciple of His, and it makes you queasy to yell for His death.

But that’s not the end of the matter.

There’s a movement afoot convincing humans that they’re basically good. I read a book earlier this year called Human Kindness arguing that very point. We’re not monsters. We’re nice. I loved it, shared it with friends. But then I sat with it for a while and wondered, “It’s good news, but is it true?”

The Church’s traditional position on human nature has always been roughly the same (even across denominational lines): We’re pretty much the worst. We’re weak. We’re sinful. We need help. Yes, we were originally made in the image of God, but that image has been distorted by sin.

Augustine said man was “not able not to sin.” Charles Spurgeon said, “You cannot slander human nature; it is worse than words can paint it.” Calvin: “Man's nature, so to speak, is a perpetual factory of idols.” Martin Luther: “How great therefore the wickedness of human nature is!” Martin Luther King Jr: “The more I thought about human nature, the more I saw how our tragic inclination for sin/mistakes causes us to use our minds to rationalize our action.”

The Apostle Paul described it this way:

I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do… It is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? (Romans 7:14-25)

Paul says, humans are wretched, prone to sin, and in need of rescue. Without intervention, evil is their destiny.

To the world, this is very bad news. To a Christian, it’s not a problem. Why?

The cross.

As Paul says, answering his own question, “Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” Two verses later he’ll say, “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free… [God sent] his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to be a sin offering.”

Why have I said all of this? To say this: Even if we weren’t yelling, “Crucify Him!” we needed the crucifixion just as much as the ones who were. And though it breaks my heart to think of it, given all the information I now have, if I’d been there, I would have wanted Christ to die.

“Crucify Him” then is the desperate plea of a drowning human drowning in a sea full of drowning humans.

This past Sunday when, in the scripture reading, it came time to yell with the crowd, I did. “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” I still hated saying it, but what could I do? I can’t live without it.

-JL

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Any Good Friday plans?

I know not everyone follows the church calendar or observes church holidays. Still, might not this week be a good time to reflect on Christ’s death on the cross? Really, when isn’t a good time? If you’re looking for something to lead you in meditation, let me suggest this:

It’a a bit of poetry, a bit of story, some prayer and a gorgeous song all interwoven to help you think about what Christ’s done for you and how you might respond. It’s stunning. Yes, my husband helped create it—he and his friend Adam. Still, I am not blowing smoke. It’s beautiful. And more importantly, it reminds you how beautiful the cross was and is.

Look to Love, the podcast

I’m skipping the week before Easter on Look to Love. I’ve just had other things to set my hands to and mind upon. This is a good time to catch up on episodes you’ve missed. Did you catch the Psalms episode? In it I talk about why reading the Psalms isn’t enough, how it isn’t even the main point of the Psalms. Also, it’s only 13 minutes long. No excuses not to check it out! :)

News from the Cape

In local news, my family’s rented a car for a couple weeks, and we’re geeking out at the freedom it provides. We drove to Kauk Bay on Saturday for perfect croissants, to Castle Rock for epic climbing, and down to Scarborough Beach for tide pool hunting and singing praises on the rocks (isn’t it magic when your kids know all the lyrics to your favorite worship songs and can even sing harmony?!). A few pictures, for joy’s sake:

Have a beautiful week, friends! Christ died for you. He’s risen for your rising. And He’s coming back for you. Soon!