Part III: The Trial

In the dark of night,
Concealed from the people’s sight,
From the garden to the courts,
The Sadducees and Scribes
Arrested the One from Judah’s tribe.

These revered judges
Showed no signs of justice,
Consumed with their traditions and order,
They reached beyond cultural borders.
Instead of being diplomatic and impartial,
They invoked a Roman tribunal.
Jewish law forbid a fatal decree
But appealing to their enemies was the key.
Was this the final hour,
Or did Pilate have the power?

This part I struggle to understand.
How could this be what God has planned?

I can’t make sense of these trials,
How could God’s people be so hostile?
Why didn’t God withstand this murderous demand,
Didn’t He hold time in His hand?

Jesus, destined to crush the Evil One’s head,
Promised to be the Prince of Peace,
How then could His position decrease?
The Liberator became the oppressed,
The Giver of Life now suppressed.
If this is how He’s recorded,
Then why is He so cruelly rewarded?

The Father said He loved His Son,
But everything seemed to come undone.
The One in whom Jesus put His trust
Let Him be beaten to the dust.
So many things I cannot reconcile
When I look into the depths of Jesus’s trial.

He had no beauty to behold
As the prophets foretold.
But the lame picked up their mats,
The blind began to see
The demons fled and Lazarus rose from the dead.
They wanted Barabas instead.

How could they want a murderer instead of a Physician?
Unheard of.
Who would make such a petition?

Jesus’ kindness had no unfair judgment,
His teaching had no hint of legalism,
And His invitation held no limits.
His acceptance could not be earned,
Nor His approval purchased.
When they mocked Him, He did not fight back,
But courage is not what He lacked.
When they acted with harsh violence,
He maintained His silence.

Were these men in denial,
Is that why they put Him on trial?
Because in the end, they knew
On their own, they would never succeed.
They were truly the sinners in need.

But they would never admit their shortcomings.
With boldface
They proclaimed His punishment.
And deemed His teachings out of place.
They cared not for the stripes He bore.
“Crucify Him!” was their wrathful encore.

The soldiers, though, of another creed,
Fueled their hatred with a different greed.
They understood little of the Man in their care.
This prisoner did not resist or strike back
When they forced Him to wear
A crown of pain and disdain.
They left Him in such a poor state,
Yet He did not grow angry or irate.
They imposed such oppression
And jeered as He suffered for their transgressions.

Pilate allowed this inexcusable abuse
To avoid a riot,
For he craved peace and quiet;
The ephemeral comfort of man’s approval.
By the washing of his hands,
He condemned his own plan.
In proclaiming Caesar as king,
Jewish leaders sounded a treacherous ring.
No words of praise for the Son of Man,
Just as the Father had planned.

The Jews rejected His claims
The Soldiers afflicted His frame
And Pilate charged Him by name.

Beaten and forsaken, He trudged toward the hill.
Crowds shouting cruel and unkind demands,
A chorus of Crucify Him following still,
Yet Jesus knew the Father’s will.
His time was finally at hand.

Video by Saylorville Church: Trial

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