CROSSED EXPECATIONS
The Easter Drama
Why did the crowds turn?
Why were the two criminals on the cross so different?
Why did the two disciples on the Emmaus Road not see?
All these aspects of the drama of Easter can be found in Luke 23 and 24.
Consider the two different ways the crowds responded to Jesus as the Christ – the Messiah. The celebrations were so emphatic and joyous to the point of raucous as He rode into Jerusalem on the colt of a donkey. As Jesus Himself commented, “If they did not call out, then the stones would!”
Why? What were they celebrating? The Messiah had arrived! And who was this Messiah? In the crowds’ mind, it was He who would overthrow the oppressors, for surely He who could heal, He who could command the elements, He who could teach with authority without official status, and He who could raise someone from the dead – surely this was He who would overthrow the captors!
But no. To their minds, His talk of a spiritual kingdom rang hollow in the stark reality of the Roman presence. Thus, they heard, but their hard hearts, seeking physical revenge rather than Godly presence, meant they could not hear.
This is why they chose Barabbas – it did not matter that he was a convicted felon, because his actions demonstrated his desire to disrupt the Roman order. Surely that was where the hope of release from the oppression lay. So – crucify Him, release the (“true”) rebel!
The two men on the crosses on either side of the true Saviour and Lord had the same differences. One had a heart of angry cynicism who wanted to play the game of feigning belief in the slim hope it might flow his way, despite justice being actually served on him.
The other criminal saw Jesus for who He was. Seeing Him was to know Him. The criminal’s past and current crisis was nothing compared to seeing the True One next to him. All he could do in his dying breaths was to put Jesus in His rightful place and beg for some little recognition, some way to not be separated from Him.
Such different expectations – one stays separated. The other is welcomed into Paradise.
By the time we find ourselves in the drama of the road to Emmaus, we see Jesus taking extraordinary steps to instruct and teach these two good-hearted men. They were truly missing Jesus, but they were also blind to Him as He walked and talked with them.
Jesus knew they needed some remedial instruction – thus, He goes through all the parts of the Old Covenant that foreshadowed what had to happen to Him – and indeed, those predictions did come true in His life.
After carrying on in unveiled form all the way into their home, it is only one act that allows the scales to fall from their eyes. After all, Jesus had told the disciples at the last supper to remember Him whenever they broke bread and drank wine together. It makes sense that this important instruction literally comes to life at the moment when the three of them break bread together. Their expectations went from theory to experience. The two now had the good doctrine; now they were also experiencing the good fellowship, the common mind, the thankfulness of grace and truth, with and through Him.
And of course, Jesus somewhat mysteriously moves on – while the two, now convinced by knowledge and experience, rush back to share with the others (where Jesus also shows up).
What a triad of wondrous crossed expectations. In the first two contexts, the wrong expectations lead to death. In the third, the personal knowing and hearing and seeing leads to being part of the foundation of His church, which is built on the cornerstone of knowing who He is, based on His birth, life, death, resurrection and ascension.
All this came through the willingness of the Creator of the World to bleed for us.
Last evening, our pastor led us through the drama of Jesus going to the Cross. He asked us to write reflections at certain poignant moments. Here are mine:
He does it all – from the simplest act to the greatest;
Even when unnaturally done;
Willingly in the pain;
Bloodied all over;
Strung up;
Dead
Come Sunday, I can add this:
But,
Alive!
And me – I don’t deserve one scintilla of it.
In Him,
Stephen