The Crown

The Third Sorrowful Mystery

The Crowning with Thorns

St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St. John

The soldiers led Him away to / the Praetorium.

           Then they stripped Him and dressed Him / up in purple.

And having twisted some thorns into a crown, they put this / on His head

           And placed a reed in / His right hand.

To make fun of Him they / knelt to Him

           Saying, “Hail, King / of the Jews!”

And they / spat on Him

           And took the reed and struck Him / on the head.

Then Pilate took some water, washed his hands in front / of the crowd

           And said, “ I am innocent of this man’s blood. It is / your concern.”

Jesus / then came out

           Wearing the crown of thorns and the / purple robe.

“Here is your / king,” said Pilate

           “take Him away!” they said, / “Crucify Him!”

“Why? What harm / has He done?”

           But they shouted all the louder, “Cru/cify Him!”

“Do you want me to cruci/fy your king?”

           The chief priests answered, “We have no king / except Caesar.”

So Pilate, anxious to pla/cate the crowd,

           Handed Him over to be / crucified.

Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the / Holy Spirit,

           As it was in the beginning and ever shall be, world / without end.

Homily:

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  AMEN.

The crown of thorns is meant to be a mockery. The Romans intend it as a silly, make-believe crown for a silly, make-believe king. Yet the irony here is that what they think they’re doing in jest, they are really doing in truth. They are crowning the greatest of all kings, the one true King of Kings, with the greatest of all crowns.

When Jesus showed up in Jerusalem for that last Passover meal, He was hailed by the people as their king. This happened for several reasons. First up, God’s people had been waiting for the Christ, God’s divinely anointed king, for hundreds of years, and all signs pointed to this moment as the time of the Christ’s arrival. Second, Jesus was by now quite well known in Jerusalem, having carried on a very public ministry of healing, teaching, preaching, and miracle-working for the last three years, up and down the Holy Land. Of all the would-be Messiahs, all the candidates for Christ, only this Jesus fit all the expected criteria. And third, He had raised people from the dead, which both thrilled and terrified folks from all walks of life.

All this was good news for Israel and bad news for Rome. Israel expected God’s Christ to come and lead a heavenly army to cast off the Roman yoke for good. Rome, meanwhile, had firm control over Israel and no intention of letting up. Israel not only sat on the great crossroads of empire, straddling the trade routes between Africa and Asia, but it was also the spiritual homeland of up to 10% of the Roman Empire’s population. Israel was much too important a territory to lose to revolt. Anyone claiming to be the Messiah—claiming to be the King—had to be dealt with, and quickly, before he became an excuse for insurgents to cause trouble.

When Jesus comes to Jerusalem for the Passover, though, He does something very important, very significant. In the ancient world, kings would approach on horseback to show that they meant to conquer. But if their intentions were peaceful, they would enter the city on a donkey. That’s just what Jesus does. As the people lay palm branches before Him and proclaim, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Hosanna to the rightful heir!” He enters the holy city on a donkey. In some ways this diffuses the situation—but notice that by doing so, Jesus still places Himself in the role of the true King.

Now of course Rome expects any Israelite king to fight, to call the people into rebellion and riot, to wage war against the occupying armies of Rome. This appears to be exactly what the Israelites of Jerusalem expect as well. But Jesus has not come for such base violence. Judas, it seems, tries to force Jesus’ hand, tries to force Jesus to fight, by betraying Jesus to His enemies, who all just want to see Him done away with. Yet even before the political and religious powers of Jerusalem, even before the Roman governor Pilate, Jesus does not stray from the path of peace. He is a King!—but not a King of this world.

Pilate himself realizes this, quickly noting that Jesus poses no direct threat to Roman rule. But when it becomes clear that the people will rise up unless Jesus is executed, Pilate infamously washes his hands of the entire affair and hands over the Christ to Crucifixion.

As I mentioned last week, Romans are cruel but never senseless. There is purpose behind the entire Crucifixion ritual. It is as publically dehumanizing as possible, an open demonstration of Roman might and Israelite impotence. “Here’s your king!” they laugh, as they beat and flog and spit upon Him. “Here’s His crown!” they sneer, as they twist wicked thorns around His head. “Here’s His royal robe!” they chortle, as they drape imperial purple over His blood-soaked flesh. They think to make a mockery of Jesus’ coronation—when in fact they usher Him straight into His glory.

The Resurrection changes everything. That Cross, meant to be a sign of shame and powerlessness, has become our very hope and liberation. The Crucifixion, intended to humiliate and eliminate Jesus Christ, only served to lift up His divine love and sacrifice for all the world to see! Jesus met death for us, and won. And that crown—that beautiful, terrible crown—was meant to be a punishment, meant to be a humiliating anti-crown. Instead we look to it now as the greatest of all adornments, the coronet of the Risen Lord, adorned with His most precious blood, which He has poured out for us. The Crown of Thorns is the sign of true nobility, true kingship: the crown of suffering taken up for others, the crown of love poured out for all humankind.

Tradition urges us, when we contemplate the Crown of Thorns, to focus upon true courage and contempt for the world. This contempt, however, must not be thought of as hatred or anger. Rather, it is an admonition to see past the worldly veneer of things to their true value as beheld in the eyes of God. What the Romans intended as mockery and contempt, God sees as the highest of all dignities, the divine life offered up for the redemption of enemies and sinners.

What do we encounter today, brothers and sisters, that seems in the eyes of the world to have little value, perhaps even to be humiliating and worthless? Is it the simple prayer of the old and feeble? Is it the dirty job of cleaning and comforting children? Is it the life of humility and selflessness, eschewing selfish striving? These are things mocked by worldly notions of fame and glory, by worldly conceptions of strength and accomplishment. Yet in the eyes of God they have the highest of all value; they are, to Him, the noblest of all pursuits.

Suffer for others. Love those who hate you. Lay down your life for a friend. These things may seem but thorns to the world, yet in Christ they are the highest of crowns.

In Jesus. AMEN.