Condemned by the Righteous -Mark 14

With his feet and hands shackled, Jesus was lead out of the garden, across the Kidron Valley, up the steep Eastern side of Mount Zion, to the palace of the high priest. A journey that is over a mile, and would have taken at least twenty minutes in heavy shackles. What was running through Jesus’ mind during the journey? Was he thinking about his disciples, whom he had spent day after day with after calling them from the edge of the Galilean lake, and how they had now fled? Was he thinking about the ancient priests, as the processional passed their tombs? Did he think about what the Temple had become - a place for the prophet of priests and prophets instead of a place to worship God - as they passed it as well? Or was he simply agonizing over what he had to do next?

Jesus was probably pushed and pulled during this journey, and forced to move at the pace of those leading him, those without shackles, as he climbed the long staircase from the lower city of Jerusalem to the upper city. Finally, they would have arrived at the house of Caiaphas, the high priest. The house was not only a dwelling place, but also an alternative meeting place for the Sanhedrin, the Jewish ruling council composed of what was thought to be the 71 wisest men in Jerusalem. This ruling body had existed since the days of Moses, and was supposed to be govern the people on the behalf of God. These men were in charge of governing all religious affairs for the Jewish people. They were men who devoted their life to the law and the Temple. Men who had devoted their life to the work of God.

The house of Caiaphas also contained a cell for prisioners. Jesus was probably lowered by ropes into the dungeon while the trial took place during the evening. Forced to lay on the hard ground, Jesus awaited to hear about his fate, though he already knew what it would be. Above him the trial began. Though this would not be a normal trial. Usually the Sanhedrin met during the day in the Temple. Usually they did not meet during religious feasts, let along the feast of all feasts, Passover. But this was not a normal trial. They felt the need to deal with Jesus as quickly as possible.

The law required that at least two men speak of charges against Jesus in identical testimony. Lots of people stood up to testify against Jesus. But either what they said didn’t warrant a capital offense or their testimonies didn’t agree. Some thought that the people who testified against him were the money changers who tables were overturned. Others may have been those who misheard Jesus when he said, “You destroy this temple and in three days I will rebuild it” - a mark of terrorism. Finally, the high priest had enough and he simply asked Jesus, “Are you the Messiah” and Jesus answered with two words which the Gospel of Mark record in the Greek, “Ego eimi”, “I am”.

Two powerful words. Not as simple as saying, “I am he” or “Yes, I am the Messiah”. Words that echoed God’s answer to Moses at the site of the burning bush when Moses asked who he should tell the Jewish people had sent him and God answered, “I am”. Words that echoed Jesus many teachings that started with “I am”. I am the bread of life. I am the true light. With this statement Jesus tied himself to God. But he did not stop there. He went on to quote from the book of Daniel, saying, “And you will see the Son of Man...coming with the clouds of heaven.” A statement that his kingdom was not on this earth, but was to come. In one short sentence, Jesus declared that he was indeed the Messiah, with a special relationship with God.

Not a single person out of the remaining 70 objected when the high priest rendered his clothing and condemned Jesus, asking Do we need more witnesses! This man has blasphemed and is worthy of death!. I have to wonder of any of them had thought the trial had been unfair or a shame. Yet not one of them spoke out, other then Joseph of Arimatha by his later actions. It reminds us that it is hard to resist the people with the power, even when they are doing the wrong thing. We’ve all been there. Times when we have went with the crowd even though we knew that it was wrong. Times that we did not speak up. It reminds me of a quote of Edmund Burke that says, “the only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good [people] to do nothing.” John Wesley even had a phrase for this - sins of omission. The sins of keeping silent.

The trial was over. Jesus, the son of God had been condemned on changes of blaspmany. Then the religious leaders did the unspeakable. They blindfolded Jesus. Spit on him. Mocked him. Beat him. Taunting him with their cries to “prophesy to us!” and asking “who is it that struck you?”

There is a modern parable that goes like this.

The Commander of the Occupation troops said to the Mayor of the mountain village: “We are certain that you are hiding a traitor in your village.Unless you give him up to us, we shall harass you and your people by every means in our power.”

The village was, indeed, hiding a man who seemed good and innocent and was loved by all. But what could the Mayor do now that the welfare of the whole village was threatened? Days of discussions in the Village Council led to no conclusion. So the Mayor finally took the matter up with the village priest. The priest and the Mayor spent a whole night searching the Scriptures and finally came up with a solution. There was a text that said, “It is better that one man die and the nation be saved.”

So the Mayor handed over the innocent man to the Occupation Forces, begging to be pardoned. The man said there was nothing to pardon. He would not want to put the village in jeopardy. He was tortured cruelly till his screams could be heard by all the village and finally he was put to death.

Twenty years later a prophet passed by the village, went right up to the Mayor and said to him: “What did you do? That man was appointed by God to be the saviour of this country. And you gave him up to be tortured and killed.

“What could I do?” pleaded the Mayor. “The priest and I looked at the Scriptures and acted accordingly.”

“That was your mistake,” said the prophet. “You looked at the Scripture. You should have looked into his eyes.”

I think of that story a lot when I read about what happened at the home of Caiaphas that evening. Men who had devoted their lives to the work of God and knowing about God did not take the time to look into the eyes of God in the flesh incarnate in Jesus Christ. He choose to came in the figure of an ordinary man, who did extraordinary things, and that was too much for the religious authorities to handle. It was not the people who considered themselves “sinners” who arrested Jesus. It was not the people others labeled as “sinners” that put him on trial. It was the most pious of the most pious. And they were blind to God being amongst them.

The Sanhediran were blinded by their love for power, their love for all the things in the world that glitter and attract people. Before we go speaking ill of them, casting the metaphorical stone, I think we need to ask ourselves how we are like them. Have we ever failed to notice the Holy Spirit moving amongst us because it didn’t look like how we expected it to? Did we ever do the wrong thing or turn against God because of our love of power and prestige? Did we ever hang on to tightly to religious dogma instead of praying to act with the love of Christ? Have we ever thought that Jesus’ way was threatening our identity or sense of power? Our very way of life?

The Sanhediran thought that Jesus was dangerous. For them and for the Jewish people, just as the religious leader in the parable thought the criminal was dangerous for the city. Perhaps they even thought that Jesus would attract unsolicited attention from the Roman government. They let their fears and insecurities get the better of them, just like we do from time to time. They let their fear breed hate. And sadly that is part of the human condition embedded in all of us because of sin. How have we let our fear motivate us instead of the love of God?

American history is full of times when we have translated fear into beliefs instead of surrendering our fear to God in order to love our neighbors. The Salem witch trials. The Jim Crow laws. Our foreign policy following 9/11. The list goes on and on. Not only have our individual fears caused us to bring harm to other children of God, but so have our cooperate ones. We really need to take a good long look at ourselves and what we have done out of fear before saying that we would never had acted as the Sanhediran did.

Jesus and his captors were not the only ones making the journey under the cloak of darkness. Peter trailed behind the procession, afraid and confused. Peter is often remembered this evening for denying Jesus three times, but Peter should equally be remembered for his courage in the face of danger. He alone was the one who attacked Jesus captors in a misguided attempt to protect the one he loved. He alone followed Jesus, no matter what the cost, to the trial, even making it into the courtyard. But his courage only lasted so long, and finally someone said that they knew him and he denied it. But when all was said and done and he had denied Jesus three times, his eyes met Christ’s and he was convicted by his own shame and guilt.

While the accounts of what happened during the last 24 hours of Jesus life vary between the gospels, Peter’s denial is in all four. Scholars have supposed this is because Peter told of his denial as he taught the early church, proclaiming that while he betrayed the Lord, Jesus met him with grace and welcomed him back, just as Christ would do for any of us who have betrayed him as well.

How have you betrayed Jesus? Has your fear and greed caused you to not recognize who he truly is, as was the case with the Sanhediran? Or has your fight or flight response caused you to act in ways that do not honor Christ or run away from knowing him completely, like Peter? No matter how we deny Jesus, and no matter how many times we turn away, Jesus still is the I am. The one whose kingdom is to come. And no matter how you have betrayed him, Jesus will welcome you back with open arms. No matter what. And, my friends, I can think of no better news then that.