Mocked & Alone

Jesus on the cross, a king, the true king, and yet seemingly of no glory (for now).

Can you imagine a situation in which, if you passed by someone dying, you would mock them, innocent or not? This passage is truly brutal. No one is on Jesus’ side here. The mockery as a king (which he is, of course), the pain of the thorns, beatings, and cross, the utter isolation such that every person there derides him, including two men who are actually criminals.

Maybe we would have. Maybe if we were there, we would have joined right in. It’s true that humanity has incredible capacity for hate.

But it sure seems hard to imagine.

And yet, the truth is that cruelty is often cloaked in the ordinary. The mockery here isn’t just about malice—it’s about misunderstanding, fear, and the comfort of siding with power. It’s easier to laugh at the condemned than to question why they’re condemned. Easier to ridicule than to risk empathy. Empathy would imply that we, too, have been weak enough to suffer.

But Jesus isn’t just physically suffering here—he is being socially erased. No one comes to his defense. This was actually the nature of Rome’s crosses. Jesus is alone. This is what it meant for Christ to take on the fullness of human pain: not just bodily torment, but abandonment, public scorn, and being counted among the guilty.

The passage ends with no relief. But we know the whole story. And in that light, we must ask: How will we respond when we see truth mocked—in the face of the marginalized, the falsely accused, the suffering?

Mark 15:16-32

The soldiers led Jesus away into the courtyard of the palace known as the governor’s headquarters, and they called together the whole company of soldiers. They dressed him up in a purple robe and twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on him. They saluted him, “Hey! King of the Jews!” Again and again, they struck his head with a stick. They spit on him and knelt before him to honor him. When they finished mocking him, they stripped him of the purple robe and put his own clothes back on him. Then they led him out to crucify him.

Simon, a man from Cyrene, Alexander and Rufus’ father, was coming in from the countryside. They forced him to carry his cross.

They brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha, which means Skull Place. They tried to give him wine mixed with myrrh, but he didn’t take it. They crucified him. They divided up his clothes, drawing lots for them to determine who would take what. It was nine in the morning when they crucified him. The notice of the formal charge against him was written, “The king of the Jews.” They crucified two outlaws with him, one on his right and one on his left.

People walking by insulted him, shaking their heads and saying, “Ha! So you were going to destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, were you? Save yourself and come down from that cross!”

In the same way, the chief priests were making fun of him among themselves, together with the legal experts. “He saved others,” they said, “but he can’t save himself. Let the Christ, the king of Israel, come down from the cross. Then we’ll see and believe.” Even those who had been crucified with Jesus insulted him.

Psalm 22:6-11

But I’m just a worm, less than human; insulted by one person, despised by another. All who see me make fun of me—they gape, shaking their heads: “He committed himself to the Lord, so let God rescue him; let God deliver him because God likes him so much.”

But you are the one who pulled me from the womb, placing me safely at my mother’s breasts. I was thrown on you from birth; you’ve been my God since I was in my mother’s womb. Please don’t be far from me, because trouble is near and there’s no one to help.

Prayer

God,

I feel like I’m praying the same thing a lot of late.
Give me wisdom to recognize truth and reject injustice.
Help me know when to do something and when to remain silent.
Keep my attention on what you see, which I know to be those corners and places where people are in need.

By your Spirit & in Christ,
Amen.