No Shortcuts
All right, turn in your Bibles to Mark, chapter 15. I’m going to begin by reading our passage, which covers verses 16–28. We are in the midst of the crucifixion narrative at this point in the Gospel. Verse 16:
“And the soldiers led him away inside the palace (that is, the governor’s headquarters), and they called together the whole battalion. And they clothed him in a purple cloak, and twisting together a crown of thorns, they put it on him. And they began to salute him, ‘Hail, King of the Jews!’ And they were striking his head with a reed and spitting on him and kneeling down in homage to him. And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the purple cloak and put his own clothes on him. And they led him out to crucify him. And they compelled a passerby, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to carry his cross. And they brought him to the place called Golgotha (which means Place of a Skull). And they offered him wine mixed with myrrh, but he did not take it. And they crucified him and divided his garments among them, casting lots for them to decide what each should take. And it was the third hour when they crucified him. And the inscription of the charge against him read, ‘The King of the Jews.’ And with him they crucified two robbers, one on his right and one on his left.”
Now, I want you to look carefully at verse 28 in this passage. Some of your Bibles may not even include it. You might see a verse 28 with nothing after it, or it may be in brackets. Some versions include it, while others don’t. Let me explain what’s going on here. The issue is that this verse is not found in the earliest manuscripts. Even in versions that include it, there’s often a notation indicating its absence in early manuscripts. This verse, if present, is a reference to Isaiah 53:12. It’s possible that it was part of Mark’s original writing but was somehow missing from the earliest manuscripts we have. Alternatively, later Christians, as they copied manuscripts, may have recognized that this was a fulfillment of Isaiah 53:12 and added it as an observational footnote.
This is a helpful observation because it points us back to what was prophesied—specifically, the dividing of Jesus’ cloak by the Roman soldiers. However, whether it was in the original or not, it doesn’t affect the Gospel account. As we mentioned, this detail is included in other Gospels, like Luke, and there are many Old Testament prophecies regarding the Messiah that aren’t mentioned in the New Testament. For example, take Isaiah 9:6–7, a well-known passage we often quote at Christmas:
“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and righteousness from this time forth and forevermore. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this.”
We reference this passage often, especially in Handel’s Messiah, but it’s not quoted in the New Testament. That doesn’t mean it isn’t a prophecy about the Messiah; it simply means the New Testament writers didn’t feel the need to highlight it. So, with Mark 15:28, don’t be alarmed if you see a little “28” with no verse or if it’s in brackets. That’s what’s happening there.
Now, let’s consider the passage before us. What’s going on? What do we learn from it? If I were to summarize what we’ll unpack this morning, it’s this: there are no shortcuts on the road to redeeming sinners. What we see here is that Jesus fully endured the entire process of paying the punishment for sins. This passage is just part of that journey.
One of the remarkable aspects of Mark’s Gospel, as we’ve noted before, is its compactness. Mark gets to the point and moves on quickly. Yet, when it comes to the week of Jesus’ crucifixion, he slows down, becoming much more detailed so we can see exactly what’s happening. In this section, as Jesus moves from his trial before Pilate to his crucifixion, we see how the Roman soldiers treat him. The first thing that stands out is their treatment of him: it’s nothing short of mockery. They mock the charge of “King of the Jews,” and everything they do flows from that—derogatory and deeply abusive.
This section focuses on the Roman soldiers. Verse 16 tells us, “The soldiers led him away.” If you circle every instance of “and they” in these verses, you’ll see it repeated multiple times, referring to the soldiers and how they treat Jesus. The first thing they do is have what we might call “me time.” They’ve taken Jesus away from Pilate and the Roman officials, and now they have him to themselves. So, they decide to have some fun at his expense. It’s mob mentality 101—a large group of soldiers behaving in ways they might not have the courage, power, or even desire to do if they were alone with him.
If you’ve ever worked with junior high boys, you see this play out daily in cafeterias or school parking lots. Junior high boys—and I say this as a former junior high boy, so no offense—desperately want to be funny. They want their peers to think they’re funny, but they don’t always know how to be funny. Their instinct is that there are two ways to be funny: break things or hurt people. That’s the junior high mentality: “Hey, look at that! It’d be funny if I threw it through a window!” or “Hey, look at that person! It’d be funny if I punched them!” That’s how these soldiers are treating Jesus in this moment—a group of Roman soldiers with a junior high mentality, surrounding him in a mob.
This mob mentality is how humans often degrade in group settings. It’s like zebras on the savanna. A lone zebra is vulnerable, but in a group, the stripes create a strobing mass of indistinguishable shapes, making it hard to single one out. In a mob, people think, “No one will know it’s me. I won’t get caught or in trouble.” So, the soldiers’ actions are designed to mock and humiliate Jesus, all playing on the title “King of the Jews.” The robe they put on him mocks royalty: “Oh, you’re a king? Let’s put this raggedy robe on you because kings wear robes.” The crown of thorns, often emphasized for its pain, was primarily about mockery, not pain—though pain was an added bonus. It mimicked the laurel leaf crowns worn by Caesars. Instead of a laurel crown, they give him a crown of thorns. The reed, mentioned in other Gospels as a scepter, is another mockery: “Here’s your scepter, a little stick.” They salute him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” instead of “Hail, Emperor Caesar!” They even bow down to him.
It’s all mob mentality. They think they’re being funny: “Hey, look at this loser from Nazareth who thinks he’s a king! You know what’d be hilarious? Hit him in the head with that reed! That’d be so funny!” They’re having a great laugh at his expense. This isn’t just about humiliating Jesus; it’s also a way to poke fun at the Jewish religious leaders who manipulated the Roman legal system to get Jesus executed, even though Pilate recognized their envy. The soldiers are essentially saying, “Here’s your king, you Jews, who are trying to get us to do your bidding.”
In fact, this charge of “King of the Jews” was particularly troubling to the religious leaders. John 19:21 tells us they didn’t want Pilate to put up the sign reading “King of the Jews.” The chief priests said to Pilate, “Do not write, ‘The King of the Jews,’ but rather, ‘This man said, I am King of the Jews.’” They didn’t want to claim him as their king, only that he claimed it.
Blinded by their sin and ignorance, these Roman soldiers, in their mockery, cannot comprehend that Jesus might actually be the Messiah, the anointed King sent by God to deliver His people. The idea is mind-boggling: what king with power, authority, and dominion would allow this to happen? If he was to deliver Israel, surely he could deliver himself, right? That’s one of the taunts lobbed at Jesus: “You say you can save others, but you can’t even save yourself!”
Yet, starting at verse 16, we see this mockery unfold—surrounded by a battalion, likely a Roman cohort, which could be several hundred men, though probably fewer in this context. The point is, it’s a large group, more than necessary. With the crown of thorns, the robe, the mocking, saluting, spitting, kneeling, bowing, and hitting him with the reed, Jesus has no understudy or stunt double. He endures it all himself. He doesn’t take the easy way to the cross.
If you’ve seen old Jackie Chan movies from the ‘90s, dubbed from Chinese to English, you know they often include an outtake reel showing all the times he got hurt or nearly died doing his own stunts. Before Tom Cruise made it cool, Jackie Chan was doing it. Jesus does the same—he endures every moment himself. No one says, “We know you’re innocent, so we’ll make this easy on you.” No, he goes through it all. Hebrews 12:2 says, “Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”
In his humanity, Jesus despised the shame of the abuse and mockery. The joy wasn’t in the process but in the result—obeying the Father and accomplishing redemption. In his humanity, he agonized through this painful, challenging ordeal. The torture was real, not something he embraced with delight. Yet, he endured it, faithful to God’s plan.
This goes back to Genesis 3:15, the embryonic Gospel, where God tells the serpent that there will be enmity between him and the woman, and her seed will crush his head, though the serpent will bruise his heel. This is understood as a reference to the crucifixion, where Jesus, the seed of the woman (born of the Virgin Mary), seems to receive a mortal blow but rises victorious, defeating Satan, sin, and death. Jesus didn’t take the easy way out. He endured the full depths to accomplish the Father’s will.
From the mockery, they prepare him for crucifixion. It was common for criminals to carry the crossbeam (patibulum) to the crucifixion site, whipped along the way. John 19:17 tells us Jesus initially carried his cross but, likely weakened from scourging, couldn’t continue. So, they compelled Simon of Cyrene, a random passerby, to carry it. The soldiers’ willingness to let someone else carry the cross indicates Jesus’ severe physical condition—they weren’t known for mercy. The point of crucifixion was to prolong agony, not show compassion.
They also offered Jesus wine mixed with myrrh, a narcotic to dull pain—not for mercy but to prolong the crucifixion by reducing shock. Jesus’ refusal shows his resolve to endure the full, undiluted pain and penalty for sins. He took no shortcuts, ensuring no asterisk beside his sacrifice.
Think of the 1904 Tour de France, infamous for cheating. Competitors hopped on trains to skip parts of the race, and fans even attacked riders at train stations. The winner wasn’t even the first to cross the line, and doubts lingered about his integrity. Jesus didn’t cheat. He didn’t cut corners to reach the finish line.
Some might think this suffering was unnecessary, that a loving God wouldn’t demand such punishment for sin. If that were true, why would Jesus endure this agony? If it was just symbolic, a simple, painless death would suffice. But Jesus’ death wasn’t humane. In the U.S., the death penalty (used for 29 executions this year, mostly by lethal injection) aims for minimal pain—a sedative, paralytic, or anesthetic overdose. Jesus’ death was the opposite: prolonged, torturous, and devoid of dignity, because it was the only way to satisfy God’s justice.
Acts 4:11–12, as read earlier, emphasizes this: Jesus is the cornerstone, and “there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.” Jesus endured this to be both just (punishing sin) and justifier (providing salvation through his perfect sacrifice).
Finally, they crucify the King. Look at verse 24: “And they crucified him.” Mark states it so casually, almost callously. They nailed his wrists and ankles to rough beams, hoisted him up, and then played games for his clothes. This was the most significant event in history, yet for the soldiers, it was just another task. Some, like Islam in Surah 4:157–158, deny the crucifixion, claiming it was an illusion or someone else (like Simon or Judas) was crucified. Others dismiss it casually, even Christians.
For all our talk of being cross-centered, we can treat the cross like the soldiers—glamorizing or sanitizing it, reducing it to a cliché. Our cross insignias are often polished, far from the brutal reality. Mark’s minimalist description in verse 24—“And they crucified him and divided his garments among them, casting lots”—might warn us against casual dismissal. We glance at the cross, then turn to football, TikTok, politics, or DoorDash, as if it has no impact.
Isaac Watts’ hymn When I Survey the Wondrous Cross captures the proper response: “When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of Glory died, my richest gain I count but loss, and pour contempt on all my pride.” Reflecting deeply on the cross makes worldly gains seem empty. We don’t need to obsess over it every moment, but when we ponder it, we must do so intentionally, setting aside distractions. Our world is designed to divert us, but we must fight our pride and selfishness, focusing on Christ’s humility and sacrifice.
When we truly reflect on the cross, it impacts us deeply. It helps us hate our sin, love God, desire others’ salvation, and find peace and joy in Christ’s complete payment for our sins. Jesus didn’t cut corners. He endured the full punishment so we could be saved.
Let’s pray. Dear Lord, what a joy it is to take time today to reflect on all that Christ endured to save sinners. We thank You that victory was assured from the beginning, promised in the Garden of Eden. There was never any doubt, yet no corners were cut. Jesus stepped into history, lived among us, and endured the worst so we might receive the best. Help us avoid a casual attitude toward His sacrifice. When we reflect on the cross, may we dwell on its full reality, not giving it a passing glance. We pray this in Your name. Amen.