The Hands of Brutality

March 7, 1965 is a day that history would later call ‘Bloody Sunday’.

The Civil Rights Act of 1964 had been passed into law nearly a year earlier – which banned racial segregation in public places and banned any discrimination on the basis of color, nationality, or ethnic background. By law, it was no longer legal to deny service to someone because of the color of their skin.

But that didn’t mean this law was upheld by the governors and soldiers who were called to uphold it.

And that’s what you saw on Bloody Sunday.

Jim Crow Laws still had a lethal grip in the South – notably in Dallas County, Alabama. Black communities wanted representation in local law enforcement and local government – and that meant they, as citizens, needed to be able to vote locally.

But that right was continually denied – and attempts to register black voters faced serious opposition, notably in one city in Dallas County: Selma.

Black civil rights leaders planned to take their demonstration directly to Alabama’s governor, George Wallace. So, on March 7, 1965, over 600 peaceful demonstrators gathered in Selma, AL – intending to march the 54 miles between Selma and Montgomery.

They got as far as the Edmund Pettus Bridge. As they crossed the crest, they saw what waited for them on the other side: a line of state troopers wielding nightsticks; behind them were deputies – some on foot, others on horseback.

The policemen put on their gas masks and marched against the demonstrators – pushing them back, and then suddenly began to rush them.

Some demonstrators were trampled by law enforcement.

Others were knocked to the ground and repeatedly beaten.

Tear gas was even fired at demonstrators who were retreating, and the deputies on horseback rode after them – swinging their clubs at men, women, and children who were gasping for air and screaming for their lives.

17 marchers were hospitalized; 50 were treated for lesser injuries.

Cameramen caught the whole thing on tape. That horrendous footage would be viewed by millions of Americans from their own homes - forcing many to see the systemic, racial injustices that they struggled to see from the viewpoint of their plushy, suburban lives.

Millions of Americans saw the hands of brutality descend upon the oppressed. What they wouldn’t see was a single hand of the oppressed raised against their oppressors. Not a single one of those demonstrators on the Edmund Pettus Bridge fought back. They just took it.

It’s sickening to see such criminal abuse of power – such brutality exercised by those called to uphold justice.

The sad reality is, we don’t have to look too far to see that same kind of criminal abuse of power – such brutality still today.

The Brutal Hands of the World

That’s what you see in Matthew 27:27-31. Matthew tells us the governor’s soldiers took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers around him. They strip him, bind him to low stone pillar with his back exposed, and have him flogged. They use a whip made of three leather cords. At the end of these chords were pieces of lead or sheep bone. This kind of scourge wouldn't just break or bruise the skin: it would bite into it – and could bloodily reduce someone’s back to ribbons.

But such a brutal treatment of Jesus wasn't enough.

No, the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, had an agenda. In a failed attempt to placate and appease the crowd, he doesn’t just have Jesus flogged: he has Jesus mocked.

28 …[they] put a scarlet robe on him, 29 and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head. They put a staff in his right hand. Then they knelt in front of him and mocked him. “Hail, king of the Jews!” they said. 30 They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again.

Jesus claimed to be a king, so Pilate would ridicule him as one.

He has his Roman soldiers dress Jesus up like a king – throwing a “kingly” robe on his bloodied back.

The Roman soldiers weave a crown of thorns and force it on his head.

They grab a wooden staff and shove it in his right hand.

They mockingly bow down and praise him. “Hail, King of the Jews!”

They spit on him.

They strike him on the head with the staff again and again.

And this wasn't just a handful of soldiers. No, The Greek word that Matthew uses to describe the size of this Roman company of soldiers might have been as many as 600 men.

This production was complete overkill – a complete mockery of Jesus.

Those soldiers would “take charge of Jesus”, have him carry his cross outside the city, they would nail him to that cross, and crucify him. And while they mocked the dying Son of God, they threw dice for his clothing.

The Brutal Hands of ‘Me’

Such a sight is horrendous to imagine, isn’t it?

It’s sickening to see such criminal abuse of power – such brutality exercised by those called to uphold justice.

But such criminal abuse of power – such brutality inflicted against the blameless Son of God shouldn’t just sicken us: it saddens us.

And it should.

It should sadden us – because such brutal treatment of the blameless Son of God was necessary.

Jesus wasn’t some victim who died as an unfortunate casualty of Roman tyranny or Jewish culture, nor did he merely die because he was rejected by the self-righteous religious elite. Jesus came to die.

God would send his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins.

He would be pierced for our transgressions.

He would be crushed for our iniquities.

That Jesus was slandered, spat upon, scourged, and slain on a cross rightfully saddens me.

Because that all happened because of me.

My sins before a holy, righteous God demanded atonement. The wages of our sin against a perfect, blameless, justice-demanding God is death. That is why Jesus laid down his life – to suffer and sacrifice himself on a cross. That is why Jesus was like a silent lamb at the hands of his shearers. That is why Jesus was like a lamb willingly led to his slaughter. Without the shedding of blood, there can be no forgiveness.

Jesus had to die because of us: our abusive texts, our abusive gossip, our abusive actions towards neighbors, friends, and family.

Jesus died because of the racist hands of sinful brutality on Bloody Sunday – because of Roman hands of sinful brutality on Bloody Friday.

Jesus died for our abusive hearts. The same sinful hands of brutality that struck Jesus’ face and nailed him to a tree are my hands – and your hands.

The Blameless Hands of Jesus

Why does the Son of God just stand there and endure the brutal hands of those soldiers?

Why does he silently submit to such awful contempt and vulgarity?

Why does he quietly endure the whipping? The crown of thorns?

Why doesn’t Jesus fight back? Why does he just take it?

Because Jesus didn’t come to simply make a statement; he came to be your Savior.

It was the LORD’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer and to make his life a guilt offering for the world. Where our sinful, brutal hands of injustice had broken our relationship with God and rendered us deserving of the justice of God, Jesus would endure that justice in our place on the cross. The punishment that brought us peace forever with God was placed on Jesus, so that by his wounds we would be healed.

But if that’s all we said about the brutal events of ‘Bloody Friday’, we haven’t said nearly enough.

God didn’t do this for his sake. God, in Christ, would do all of this for you.

Jesus didn’t endure the injustice of men and the justice of God simply because of our sins.

Jesus endured all of that because of his amazing love for you.

God would love those who hated him.

God would die for those who wanted him dead.

When our sinful world sought to strip Jesus of his glory and clothe him in shame, Christ came to strip us of our shame and clothe us in his glory – and clothe himself with our shame!.

If there was footage of that ‘Bloody Friday’, you’d watch the hands of brutality descend upon the oppressed. You wouldn’t see is a single hand of Jesus raised against his oppressors. You would see Jesus stretch out his hands across a beam of wood to die for them - including you and me.

Jesus silently endured the brutal hands of governors and soldiers on that Bloody Friday because his boundless love for you speaks greater volumes. God the Son would endure the holy justice of God the Father to win for you forgiveness, new life, and salvation – all because of his amazing grace and compassion for you.

To rescue our abusive world from sin, from suffering, and death itself, our Savior would stretch out his loving hands across a tree, suffer, and die.

But he wouldn’t stay dead. On the third day, your Savior rose - and left our sins of brutality buried forever.

The scars he bears on his hands are proof of your eternal purchase! You rest redeemed and rescued in the loving hands of your Savior.