Then Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. And Pilate said to them, “Behold the Man!” -John 19:15
Public humiliation is the hardest and most painful thing any human being can endure. But public humiliation by a lover – a break-up, a failed marriage proposal, the exposure of infidelity – has a peculiar pain and horror all its own.
Jesus has already been falsely accused, stripped, and painfully flogged – but He has not yet been condemned to death.
We tend to forget this, because we know how the story ends. But with this public brutalisation, there is still a faint glimmer of hope that this punishment will be enough; that Jesus will simply be flogged and released, as Pilate originally intended.
Have you ever felt that sickening last moment of hope that flares up in the face of horrible evidence? The spouse who is being unfaithful to you – it must be a misunderstanding. The friend who has turned on you – she would never say such things about me. The money missing from your bank account – he must have made a mistake.
Even when Jesus steps on to the balcony in his crown and robe, and Pilate says, ‘Behold the man’, those who love Him are desperately hoping that the crowd that welcomed him as Messiah will call for his release.
And then they publicly reject the Man they said they loved. He has been discarded because He is no longer shiny and interesting; Barabbas is much more appealing today.
The decision to execute Jesus was not made by Judas, or Pilate, or Herod, or Caiaphas. It was made right here, at this moment, by the mob. The cross is now inevitable.
This utterly public rejection of the Lover by the Beloved is the horrible flipside of Palm Sunday. The sickness and shame in the hearts of His terrified followers is immense.
But it is nothing compared to the pain that overwhelms the human heart of Jesus – the humiliation of public rejection by those He loved the most.
Remember how your own heart burned with pain and shame when you were rejected. You stood there foolishly, struck dumb with shock. Perhaps you cried in public, or begged, or pleaded for another chance.
All this pain flashed through the mind and heart of Jesus – a searing pain and shame far worse than the physical pain He was already bearing.
Have you ever wondered why those images of the Sacred Heart show Jesus’ heart wearing a crown of thorns? The wound of the Crown is not primarily to His head at all – it’s to His heart. The later piercing of Jesus’ heart after death simply confirms what had already taken place on that balcony.
Jesus’ heart is broken: he drinks deeply of the cup of desolation and abandonment as Pilate delivers him to be crucified.
~ Philippa Martyr
Dr Philippa Martyr is a Perth-based historian, university lecturer and academic researcher. Her current work includes looking into the sociology of Catholics living in Australia.