“Silent witness: Dice”
John 19:23-24
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
On the western edge of Germany, near the borders of Belgium and Luxembourg, along the banks of the Moselle River, sits a town called, Trier. With a population of a little over one hundred thousand, it’s thought to be the oldest city in all of Germany.
And of the many things for which the city is so well known, like its wide variety of museums and its ancient Roman amphitheater and Roman baths, one of the most important is a cathedral, what’s called, the Trier Cathedral, or the High Cathedral of St. Peter in Trier. They say that it’s the oldest church in all of Germany.
And if you were to visit there, you’d see a fortress of a church, complete with four symmetrical towers and a clock that reads, in Latin, “You do not know what time the Lord is coming.”
And if you were to step inside that cathedral, you’d find, along with its beautiful ceiling, altars, and nave, a chapel dating back to the 1700s that holds the church’s most prized possession--the Holy Tunic, the Seamless robe of Jesus.
It’s not much to look at. It’s little more than an old, brown, piece of fabric, woven in one piece, without a seam. Across the years, it’s been repaired several times with swatches of taffeta and silk, and dipped in liquid rubber to keep it safe. The last time it was on display was nine years ago, in April of 2012.
Though we can never really know for sure, many say that this robe is the very robe that Jesus wore on His way to the cross.
Listen to the words of our text, from the book of John chapter 19: “So they took Jesus, and He went out, bearing His own cross, to the place called The Place of a Skull, which in Aramaic is called Golgotha. There they crucified Him, and with Him two others, one on either side, and Jesus between them. Pilate also wrote an inscription and put it on the cross. It read, ‘Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.’ Many of the Jews read this inscription, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and it was written in Aramaic, in Latin, and in Greek. So the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, ‘Do not write, “The King of the Jews,” but rather, “This Man said, I am the King of the Jews.’’ Pilate answered, ‘What I have written I have written’” (John 19:16-22).
Crucifixion is one of the oldest and most gruesome forms of death ever known to man. Rome’s famous statesman, lawyer, and scholar, Cicero, once called it, “a most cruel and disgusting punishment.” He said, “The very mention of the cross should be far removed not only from a Roman citizen’s body, but from his mind, his eyes, and his ears...So guilty an action cannot by any possibility be adequately expressed by any name bad enough for it.”
First, the condemned would be stripped and scourged. Then he’d be led, carrying his cross through crowded city streets, out to the place of execution. Tapered iron spikes, nails between five and seven inches long, were driven through his hands and feet, and a “titulus,” a sign, was posted above his head, declaring the prisoner’s name and his crime.
And though it could often take days for the condemned to die, Romans had a way of hurrying it along, by breaking legs, or by thrusting a spear deep into their side, through their heart.
No wonder then that, when Jesus said He “must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of elders, chief priests and scribes, and that He must be killed,” Peter said, “God forbid it, Lord! This shall never happen to You.”
Yet as the Bible says in John chapter 19: “So they took Jesus, and He went out bearing His own cross, to the place called The Place of a Skull...There they crucified Him, and with Him two others, one on either side, and Jesus between them.”
Now it would have been enough that men mocked Him and scourged Him. It would have been enough that they shoved a crown of thorns onto His head, and drove nails through His hands and feet. But as if all that wasn’t enough, to add insult to injury, even as He lay dying on the cross, suspended between heaven and earth, beaten, bruised and bloody, every movement a torture, every breath an agony, soldiers took from Him His last remaining possession--His clothes.
Sad to say, it wasn’t unusual. As far as the soldiers were concerned, taking a prisoner’s clothes was a little added bonus for serving on an otherwise gruesome detail. I mean, after all, in a few short hours, he’d have absolutely no use for them. So why not take them, and why not take them now?
So completely disregarding the wants or wishes of those who loved Him and cared for Him, like the apostle John or His mother, Mary, even as they stood weeping at the foot of His cross, one took His sandals, another took His cloak, another His headdress, and another His belt.
But there was one more piece, the Bible says. John chapter 19, verse 23: “When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took His garments and divided them into four parts, one part for each soldier, also His tunic. But the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.”
A seamless tunic, woven in one piece from top to bottom. Sound familiar? If you know your Bible really well, you’ll know that it’s exactly what a high priest would wear, as he made his way to sacrifice.
But there was a problem. There was a fifth piece, and there were only four soldiers. Even more, it was nice, and every one of them wanted it.
So what to do? They wouldn’t tear it. Then it wouldn’t be of any use. So the Bible says they cast lots for it. They gambled for it. And the winner got to take it home.
And when he won it, whichever soldier it was, we wonder--did he bring it home to his wife and children, a souvenir from a hard day’s work? Or did he sell it for pennies on the street?
Think about this for me--out of all those who were closest to Jesus, who had the honor and privilege to sit at His feet, to see His love, to hear His grace, few were ever closer than these four obscene, dreadful men--closer than those who heard Him preach His Sermon on the Mount, closer than the five thousand who ate His fish and bread.
And what did they do? They gambled for His last piece of clothes.
As one author put it: “Behold Him, that great Son of David, as He is being plundered on Golgotha! No longer is it His privilege to walk freely. He is fixed to the cross. The soldiers had done their work well. They pierced His hands and His feet as they nailed His emaciated body to the accursed tree. He watches these robbers as they tear from His body His covering. He observes as He loses His claim. He rejoices that He has not erred from the path predicted of Him. The Great Clothier allows Himself to be stripped bare. Caesar has finally succeeded in robbing this Holy Child even of His swaddling clothes.”
It’s amazing if you think about it. When Jesus died, what did He possess? No money. No house. No property and no estate. The only thing He could call His own were the clothes on His back.
But isn’t that the way it always was? When men came from Jerusalem to collect the Temple tax, He had nothing to give them. So He sent Peter out to catch a fish. He said: “So that we may not cause offense, throw out your line, open its mouth, and you’ll find a four-drachma coin. Then take it to pay our tax.”
In the book of Luke, when someone said, “I will follow You wherever You go,” He said, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place even to lay His head.”
He borrowed a stable in which to be born, He borrowed a boat from which to preach, and He borrowed a donkey on which to ride. He borrowed an Upper Room to share in one last meal with His friends, He borrowed a cross, and He borrowed a tomb. The whole world was His, yet there was nothing He called His own.
And now in the last few hours of life, soldiers gamble even for His last bit of clothes. Yet it was these clothes, the very last thing He owned on earth, that He so freely and so willingly gave.
Peter Marshall was a Scottish-American preacher who not only served a church in Washington, D.C., but also as a chaplain for the United States Senate, till his unexpected death at the age of forty-six. He’s best known for a book written by his wife, a biography called, A Man Called Peter.
This is what he wrote: “Were you there when they crucified my Lord? The friends of Jesus were there, and so were His enemies. The priests were there. The scribes were there, together with the greedy Sadducees, the hypocrites, the proud Pharisees with their robes, their broad-bordered phylacteries on which golden bells were sewn with golden thread--they were there, drawing their robes more tightly around them, and standing with arms folded approvingly.
“Unbelievers were there. Harlots were there. Their customers were there. They were all there. Simon of Cyrene was there, and the soldiers were there too.”
As the hymn puts it so well: “Were you there when they crucified my Lord? Sometimes it causes me to tremble.”
When we think of all who were there, when we’re honest with ourselves, truly honest, we know that we too were there, and that we helped to put Christ there. Because every attitude that was present on that hilltop is present among us now. Every grief and every fear that tugged at the human heart then, tugs at the human heart now.
And every face that was there is here too. Every voice that shouted then, is shouting still. Every human being of every kind was there at Calvary, from the very best to the very worst, and every kind of human being is here too. Every sin was in a nail, the thrust of the spear, and the prick of a thorn.
And even though twenty centuries have come and gone, Calvary still stands. And every time we sin, the hammer blows still echo, and we crucify Him again and again and again.
Yet pardon for them all is found in His blood.
It’s true that soldiers stripped Jesus. It’s true that they gambled for His last bit of clothes.
But you know what’s also true? Even as Jesus lay dying on that cross, as men stripped Him of His last bit of clothes, He was weaving another robe, a white robe of righteousness. And as He lived a perfect life and died a perfect death, He completed that robe, and made it possible for even us to wear it, that perfect robe, that alone can cover our sin.
And if you want to wear that robe, there’s one thing, and only one thing, that you have to do, and that’s believe on the Lord Jesus. And then, and only then, can you be saved.
As the apostle John once asked, “Who are these arrayed in white robes?” The answer? “These are they that have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (Revelation 7:14).
In the words of a hymn: “Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness/My beauty are, my glorious dress;/Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed,/With joy shall I lift up my head./When from the dust of death I rise/To claim my mansion in the skies,/E’en then this shall be all my plea:/Jesus hath lived and died for me.”
Our sin is great, dear Father, but Your goodness and Your grace are greater still. Help each one of us, every day, to find our hope and help in the cross, for Jesus’ sake. Amen