The Crowning of Jesus with Thorns

Weaving a crown out of thorns, they placed it on his head, and a reed in his right hand. And kneeling before him, they mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!”

Matthew 27:29

Even though they spat on him; laughed at him; beat him; mocked him; drove a crown of thorns into his brow; he died for them. Even though my gaze has fallen too long on women that are not my wife; even though I have stolen, lied, killed; even though I am a sinner among sinners; he died for me. And you.

It’s easy to read the passages regarding the crowning of Jesus with thorns and just see it as guards being cruel. An ancient Abu Ghraib, if you will. But this is not. I missed it until today.

The guards brought Jesus into the praetorium. That is Pontuis Pilate’s residence. This wasn’t done in some cell, or stable. This was in the palace of the most powerful Roman for leagues and leagues. This wasn’t some indifferent Pilate who washed his hands of it. This was done under his nose and by his (at least passive) complicity.

And that is what we do, too. We act like we can just wash our hands and move on. We like to pretend that our sin don’t stink. Sure, I know I’m not supposed to go up for Holy Communion if I have unconfessed mortal sins, but surely I’ll be OK. No. Your sin stinks. Mine does, too. But the confessional is the ultimate spiritual cleansing (no teas, oils, or bone broth needed (we’ll talk about the ridiculousness that is “bone broth” another time)).

Holy and Eternal God, we come before you as thorns on your Son’s brow, and kicks to his ribs. Help us turn away from sin and instead learn to have joy in suffering beside Jesus. Amen.