The hours of night are now spent - as Jesus is handed over from the Jewish police and soldiers to Caiaphas the high priest; in a
few hours he is taken to Pilate; a few hours later he’s condemned, flogged,
mocked and handed over as the crowd cries ‘crucify’.
And in the midst of
this noise and violence, he says: ‘for this I was born, and for this I came
into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth
listens to my voice.’
‘What is truth?’ says
Pilate. And later he says, ‘Where are you from?’
And Jesus gave no
answer.
His silence echoes the silence of psalm 39: ‘I was silent and still; I
held my peace to no avail’.
‘Do you refuse to
speak to me?' says Pilate, 'Do you not know that I have power to release you, and power to
crucify you?’
Life hangs in the
balance: as in psalm 39 - life is
fleeting, a few hand breadths; a mere breath, a shadow. ‘
My distress grew
worse’… ‘hear my prayer, O LORD, and give ear to my cry’.
The walk is painfully
slow.
The weight of the
wood is too much.
The psalms are like a
drum beat. In 130 we hear the pulse of prayer from the deep; we hear cries of
supplication.
‘Out of the depths I
cry to you, O LORD. Lord, hear my voice!’
‘I wait for the LORD,
my soul waits’.
‘If you, O LORD,
should mark iniquities, Lord, who could stand?’
‘But there is
forgiveness with you, so that you may be revered’.
‘O Israel, hope in
the LORD!
‘For with the LORD
there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem.’
From the cross, our
Lord speaks words from psalm 22.
‘My God, my God, why
have you forsaken me?’
The psalmist goes on
– perhaps on Jesus lips too:
‘The words of my
groaning… O my god, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find
no rest’.
And yet: ‘you are
holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel’. People trusted and God delivered;
they cried and the Lord saved.
This is he: God with
us – enthroned on the cross.
This is he: scorned,
despised and mocked.
This is he: poured
out like water, bones out of joint; mouth dried up.
This is he: stared at
and gloated over, as ‘they divide my clothes among themselves and for my
clothing they cast lots.
The words of
psalmist, the expression of desolation and human cruelty are born by the one
who is God with us.
‘For God so loved the
world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not
perish but may have eternal life.’
We know that the
psalm goes on to speak words of praise; the poor shall eat and be satisfied.
All the ends of the earth ‘shall remember and turn to the LORD; and all the
families of the nations shall worship before him’.
That is our hope. Standing
here we see that love and glory.
