Mark 15
The Cross and the Crowd: What Mark 15 Shows Us About Ourselves
Mark 15 is one of those chapters that can be tough to read. It’s brutal, emotional, and raw. And yet, it’s essential. When we walk through these verses, we aren’t just reading about a historical event—we’re encountering the core of the gospel and being reminded of who Jesus is and who we are because of Him.
An Unjust Trial and a Silent Savior
The opening verses of Mark 15 show us the trial before Pilate, a Roman official caught between political pressure and personal conscience. It’s clear—this was never going to be a fair trial. The Roman legal system, like so many systems then and now, catered to the powerful. And Jesus was a threat—not because of violence or rebellion, but because He exposed the corruption, pride, and control at the heart of religious and political power.
Pilate knew Jesus was innocent. He even asked the crowd if they wanted Jesus released. But Jesus didn’t defend Himself. He didn’t argue. He didn’t plead. He remained mostly silent, holding onto a greater authority and purpose. His silence was not weakness—it was intentional surrender. He wasn't out of control; He was fully in control.
Barabbas and the Gospel in One Exchange
Then comes Barabbas. A known criminal. A murderer. Guilty. And he walks free.
We read this and we realize—we are Barabbas. We’re the guilty ones, set free because Jesus took our place. It’s such a clear picture of the gospel: substitution. Grace. Undeserved freedom. Before we knew Him, we were enemies of God. But Jesus stepped in. And the punishment He took, the suffering He endured—that should’ve been ours. But He went through it willingly.
A Broken Body and a Torn Curtain
The details of Jesus' suffering are horrifying. Roman flogging wasn’t just punishment—it was artful torture. The whip they used, called a "scorpion," had bone, metal, and rock embedded in it to tear flesh with every strike. And Jesus took that. A cohort of soldiers—up to 600 men—mocked and beat Him. This wasn’t a man being punished for a crime. This was the Son of God absorbing the wrath meant for us.
As we move through the chapter, we read about Simon carrying the cross for Jesus, a moment rich with meaning. Jesus, who had said, "Take up your cross and follow me," now needed help carrying His. He was that physically broken. And yet, in that brokenness, He was still helping us carry ours.
When Jesus finally breathes His last, Mark records that the temple curtain tore from top to bottom. This curtain had always represented the separation between God and humanity, the barrier to the Most Holy Place. Only the high priest, once a year, could enter. But in that moment, Jesus opened the way for all of us. There’s no more separation. No more rituals. No more barriers. Just access—intimate, constant access to God.
Death, Darkness, and Ultimate Victory
Mark also goes out of his way to show us the timing of Jesus’ death. At noon, darkness covers the land. At 3 p.m.—the Jewish hour of prayer—Jesus cries out and dies. That timing wasn’t random. These were divine appointments. And while this isn’t spelled out in Scripture, it’s worth noting: 3 a.m. is often described as the darkest hour of the night, a time many associate with fear and spiritual oppression. Jesus' death at 3 p.m.—the brightest hour—stands in stark contrast. His death brings light, peace, and victory.
And then there’s Joseph of Arimathea. A man from the very council that condemned Jesus—yet, here he is, honoring Him in death. It’s a small detail, but it shows us again the power of Jesus to reach and transform even the hearts we least expect.
Mark 15 isn’t just about what happened to Jesus. It’s about what He did for us.
It’s painful, yes. But it’s also powerful. It’s love displayed in the most unthinkable way. We don’t skip over this chapter—we sit in it. We let it pierce us. And we remember that the torn body of Christ brought about a torn curtain—and that changed everything.
So let’s read Mark 15 slowly. Let’s weep at what it cost. And let’s worship the One who paid it all.
