Today's passage is 27-44.
The Roman soldiers mock Jesus, putting a crown of thorns on him, dressing him in a purple robe, hailing him as king, then spit and hit him. They grab Simon of Cyrene and make him carry the cross. They crucify Jesus between two thieves. They gamble for his clothes. People jeer at Jesus. The chief priests mock him as the messiah and Son of God. The thieves beside him insult him.
Matthew presents a long scene of uninterrupted mockery, jeering and insult. There is only one moment of grace--the offer of wine mixed with gall--which Jesus refuses. The rest is brutality and spite. It is humanity at its worst.
Just a brief look at myself shows me I'm capable of it all.
What I haven't done in reality, I have done in my imagination to people I've resented or were jealous of or who had pointed out my failings.
The supreme irony of the moment is that Jesus is dying for every one of those sinners who jeer and insult him, even the thieves dying beside him.
The thieves play out the common human flaw of stepping on someone in order to have someone below them so they can feel better about themselves.
In their blood lust from flogging and crucifying Jesus, reducing him to torn and bleeding flesh, the taunting chief priests cross into blasphemy when they mock God himself: "Let God rescue him now if he wants him."
The chief priests may have thrown Jesus away but God the Father hasn't.
He doesn't throw anyone away who repents.
At this moment, however, there is no repentance to be had from anyone.
There is no pity, no sorrow, no sympathy.
We see only the malicious delight of someone mighty brought down below even our debased level, as the insulting thieves show, they who are dying the same death as Jesus.
Matthew shows me myself before Christ, a wicked man full of sin with no hope of salvation or reform on my own.
With every tiny praise of myself at someone else's expense, I show myself to be one of the thieves beside Jesus.
With every mocking comment on a student's pretense to knowledge, I become a jeeering passer by at the crucifixion.
With every unsympathetic taunt at a pastor or cho-won or mokja who stumbles, I become a contemptuous chief priest.
Meditating on today's passage helped me see that there is no spiritual health in me.
Unless God acts in me, I have no kindness, caring or goodness.
I cannot help myself to salvation one single bit.
God has to do it for me, and he did, dying on the cross, surrounded by the mockery of those who did not understand how great their need of his death and resurrection was.
Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner. Every time I sin, I crucify you again. Forgive me, I pray. Quicken your Holy Spirit in me that I may repent of my sins and turn anew to you.
