I N R I
- Connie Cartisano
- Jul 20, 2023
- 3 min read
Ever think about some of the bookends of Jesus’ life on earth? Foreshadows from the time of his birth resonate with events that took place around his death.
An angel told His mother she would conceive him, and angels told women at the tomb that he had risen from the dead.
Angels announced, “Peace on earth! Glory to God in the highest!” when he was born. When he entered Jerusalem for his final Passover, the crowds shouted, “Peace in heaven! Glory in the highest!”
His earthly father Joseph gave him a safe home to live. Another Joseph laid his body safely in a tomb.
He was presented as an infant in the temple and honored as the Consolation of Israel, yet on leaving the temple for the last time, he wept over Jerusalem, whose citizens did not recognize him who was their peace.
There are many more, and I encourage you to hunt them up.
Here is another that is particularly poignant.
When Jesus was born, Magi from the East came to Israel. These rich wise men with astrological interests, whose lessons dated back to the time of Daniel and the Jewish exiles, had come in search of a newborn king. They naturally inquired at the royal palace that they might do him homage.
“Where is he who has been born King of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”
A bloodbath ensued in the little village of Bethlehem, birthplace of the legendary King David. Hadn’t the angel told Mary that her baby would inherit the throne of his father David?
Years later, sent by Pontius Pilate, Jesus appeared before another King Herod, whose father the Magi had visited.
Foolish Herod!
Here stood the man his father had tried to eradicate as a baby, yet Herod gladly welcomed the miracle-worker as entertainment for his court.
Frustrated that he could not get Jesus to say a word, let alone perform for him, Herod promptly shipped him right back to Pilate.
Did he even know who Jesus was? That he was the one the Magi-kings sought? I think not. He was more worried that wrongfully-beheaded John had returned from the dead.
But here’s the thing that no one has ever been able to get around. Jesus really was the King of the Jews. For this he was eventually executed. The charge nailed to his cross was written in three languages—Latin, Aramaic and Greek—so that travelers from the world over might know his crime.
Jesus was the Messiah of prophecy, whose kingdom would never end. When Pilate asked if he really was a king, Jesus freely admitted it. But his was not an earthly kingdom of the Jews, nor was it the kingdom the Jews themselves sought—national sovereignty and political independence from Rome.
Throughout his ministry Jesus had made it abundantly clear that while his kingdom was not of this world, it had already come. He taught those who followed him what life in his kingdom was like: People love their enemies and do good to those who persecute them. They go the extra mile. They share with those in need. They live and love and worship in righteousness and peace and joy.
The trial and condemnation of Jesus completely mocked his kingship—from the religious leaders who called it blasphemy to the Roman soldiers who served imperial Rome to the rabble in the street who couldn’t keep an allegiance for two days running.
They crowned him, but with thorns.
They robed him, but with purple blasphemy.
And when he stood before them in his “royal” garb, they demanded he be crucified,
Rome, empire of the world ruled by a Caesar-god, had no respect for local kings. So they beat him and spit on him. They dared him to guess who had struck him. And they did it all to humiliate him.
The King of Glory took it all. He silently endured the scorn and shame. He reproached none of them, for he had come to bear their reproach. This King had come to serve the ones he ruled. His was a majesty beyond imagining. Not yet splendorous but, oh, so beautiful to the King-maker. Father, forgive them.
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