“Now the chief priests and the whole council were seeking false testimony against Jesus that they might put him to death” (Matthew 26:59).
The scene in Jerusalem was a palatial mansion. As the supreme ecclesiastical court, supposedly in search of divine justice, the Sanhedrin were assembled – in all their glory. The gathering may have included all 70 members, but there must have been at least 23 – enough for a legal quorum. I’m quite sure the number was as high as humanly possible for a hastily convened proceeding in the middle of the night.
They smelled blood in the water.
Rome was in ultimate control of all judicial proceedings, but what we see in the trial of Jesus before the high priest, Caiaphas, is that the empire’s subjects were allowed substantial freedom to try their own cases. Technically, this meltdown of truth started with Annas, the high priest’s father-in-law and a former incumbent in the position himself. For time’s sake, I won’t go into all the details, but this relationship – and the politics behind it – was twisted. Around the time of Christ’s birth, a very seedy process of high priest selection became the norm. An influential man could maneuver into an office that was up for sale.
What we discover, at each step along the way to the Cross, is injustice after injustice after injustice. It appears from the text of Scripture that most of the “false witnesses” were so utterly bad at their job that they disqualified themselves. The liars couldn’t lie well enough. But, as you might imagine, some of the trumped-up charges against Jesus eventually started to stick.
If ever – in the entire history of the human race – there were a kangaroo court, this was it. I haven’t even mentioned the moral failings of Pontius Pilate, which were soon to follow. And, unsurprisingly, as the gruesome details continued to unfold, Herod Antipas – son of “Herod the Great” – proved to be just as perverted as the rest of the cast. Our Lord Jesus suffered under the enormous weight of a multilayered charade of deceit. Amazing love.
The Sanhedrin recognized their problem. Their blasphemy charges weren’t enough. They had to convince the people in power that Jesus was a threat to the government itself. So – capitalizing on the innate depravity of all the players involved – they lined up liar after liar until the job was done.
Jesus had done nothing wrong, yet everything – and everyone – was against Him.
How are you and I to handle the injustices which come our way? Knowing that we are far from perfect – and that our only perfection is in Christ – how do we take on His mind and heart when the unfairness, false reports, and lack of grace are aimed at us? How do we respond to mistreatment?
First of all, I think we remind ourselves that such seasons are part of life on a fallen planet. They’re not enjoyable, but they teach us much about the gospel that we claim to cherish. It was the humiliation of Jesus which led to His exaltation, and the salvation of sinners like us (Philippians 2:8-11). You and I can expect, as we’re being steadily conformed to the likeness of Christ, to share in His sufferings (Romans 8:17; 1 Peter 4:13).
Secondly, I think we recognize that opposition only serves to strengthen us (James 1:2-4; Romans 5:3-5). It renews our focus on Jesus and reenforces our dependence on His providential care. We don’t want to float downstream like a dead fish, as we’ve been called to swim upstream for the glory of God! We rarely grow stronger without an opposing force which we must learn to overcome.
Thirdly, you and I can learn to celebrate with gusto the close presence of the risen Jesus – there’s nothing like it in the world – when we’re persecuted for our faithfulness to Him (Matthew 5:10-12). Those are the moments – strange as it sounds – when we can feel the joy of Christ in ways that defy human understanding. And it’s that outlandish joy that we desperately need in order to summon the supernatural strength that’s soon to be required for the next leg of the marvelous journey that’s before us (Nehemiah 8:10).
Lastly, we can choose to rest – and I mean really, truly rest – in the merciful and perfect plan of our sovereign and gracious God (Joshua 1:5; Psalm 20:7; John 16:33; 2 Corinthians 12:7-10). His good plan is unstoppable, I’m happy to report. And, in Christ, we have the cheerleader par excellence. He is not surprised by our sufferings, nor is He removed from them. In fact, He’s with us through it all – including every malicious attack against us – and He’s closer than our breath. “For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
Reflecting on his own sadness from the ravages of World War 1, the English minister Edward Shillito (1872-1948) penned these words in 1919 …
“If we have never sought, we seek Thee now;
Thine eyes burn through the dark, our only stars;
We must have sight of thorn-pricks on Thy brow,
We must have Thee, O Jesus of the Scars.
The heavens frighten us; they are too calm;
In all the universe we have no place.
Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?
Lord Jesus, by Thy Scars, we claim Thy grace.
If, when the doors are shut, Thou drawest near,
Only reveal those hands, that side of Thine;
We know to-day what wounds are, have no fear,
Show us Thy Scars, we know the countersign.
The other gods were strong; but Thou wast weak;
They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;
But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak,
And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.”
Not to worry, friends. The kangaroos are no match for our nail-scarred Christ.
Pastor Charles
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