Mark 15, a visual study from The Lampstand Project.
Truly this man was the Son of God.
Trial before Pilate. Barabbas. The scourging and mockery. The crucifixion. The darkness at noon. The torn curtain. A Roman soldier’s confession. Mark 15 is the center around which the whole Gospel turns.
The king enthroned on a cross.
Mark 15 is a relentless march of official cruelty, public mockery, and darkness — and at every stage, the irony is the same: the titles they use as taunts are true. He is the King of the Jews. He is the Christ. He is the Son of God. The only person in the chapter who says it without mockery is a Roman soldier.
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“And Pilate again asked him, ‘Have you no answer to make? See how many charges they bring against you.’ But Jesus made no further answer.”
Are you the King of the Jews?
Jesus is bound and brought to Pilate. Are you the King of the Jews? — You have said so. The chief priests accuse him of many things. Pilate is amazed that Jesus makes no further answer. Pilate tries to release him using the Passover custom, but the crowd — stirred up by the chief priests — asks for Barabbas, a murderer. What shall I do with the one you call the King of the Jews? — Crucify him. Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, releases Barabbas and has Jesus flogged. The soldiers mock him with a purple cloak and a crown of thorns: Hail, King of the Jews. They spit on him and strike him. The mockery is the most precise irony in the Gospel: they are doing exactly what they are pretending to do.
“He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth.”
“And the inscription of the charge against him read, ‘The King of the Jews.’”
The King of the Jews.
They compel Simon of Cyrene to carry the cross. At Golgotha they offer wine mixed with myrrh; he does not take it. They crucify him and divide his garments by casting lots, fulfilling Psalm 22. It is the third hour — nine in the morning. The charge reads: The King of the Jews. Two robbers are crucified on either side. Those passing by deride him: save yourself, come down from the cross. The chief priests mock: he saved others; he cannot save himself. Let the Christ, the King of Israel, come down now that we may see and believe. They are right about everything they say except the implication. He does not come down. That is the point.
“He saved others; he cannot save himself.” — They meant it as a taunt. It is the theology of the atonement.
“And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.”
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
From the sixth hour until the ninth hour — noon to three in the afternoon — there is darkness over the whole land. At three o’clock Jesus cries with a loud voice: Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani — My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Some hear him call Elijah. Someone offers a sponge of sour wine. Jesus cries out with a loud voice and breathes his last. The curtain of the temple is torn in two from top to bottom — the same word as the sky at the baptism. What was closed is now open. The centurion standing opposite: truly this man was the Son of God. The first human being in Mark to confess the full truth without prompt or threat is a Roman soldier at the foot of a cross.
“Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain.”
“Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the council, who was also himself looking for the kingdom of God, took courage.”
He asked for the body of Jesus.
When evening comes, Joseph of Arimathea — a member of the council, one who was looking for the kingdom of God — takes courage and goes to Pilate, asking for the body of Jesus. Pilate is surprised that he is already dead, summons the centurion to confirm it, and grants the body to Joseph. Joseph buys a linen shroud, wraps the body, and lays it in a tomb cut out of rock. He rolls a stone against the door. Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses see where he is laid. The chapter ends with a body in a tomb and two women watching.
“For I delivered to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried.”
The torn curtain at the moment of death is the structural fulfillment of the torn sky at the baptism. At the Jordan, the Father spoke: you are my beloved Son. At Golgotha, a pagan soldier says: truly this man was the Son of God. The sky tears open at the beginning; the veil tears open at the end. Access to God, closed since Eden, is now open. The way in is through what happened on this hill.
The death of the Son of God.
Mark 15 contains no miracles. No healings, no exorcisms, no nature wonders. It is the chapter where the one who did all of those things is stripped, mocked, and killed. The power is still present — it is just being used differently. He could come down. He does not.
The women who watch from a distance are the witnesses. The disciples have fled. The women remain. They will be the first to hear what happens next.
“And when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, ‘Truly this man was the Son of God.’”Mark 15:39 ESV
All scripture quoted from the English Standard Version (ESV). A study from The Lampstand Project.