Reliving the Passion

Each year I look for ways to observe Lent in a more robust manner than simply “giving something up.” This year I am using Walter Wangerin’s Lenten meditations from Reliving the Passion, gleanings from the Gospel of Mark. Wangerin does an amazing job of bringing to life the all-too familiar story of Jesus’ Passion. In bringing it to life, he helps the reader crawl into the story, experiencing the passion and Jesus in new ways.

So, I want to share one of the daily meditations that I found particularly engaging…


Now at the feast he used to release for them one prisoner for whom they asked. And among the rebels in prison, who had committed murder in the insurrection, there was a man called Barabbas.  And the crowd came up and began to ask Pilate to do as he was wont to do for them. And he answered them, “Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” For he perceived that it was out of envy that the chief priests had delivered him up. But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have him release for them Barabbas instead. (Mark 15:6-11)

Behold the people! Though they think themselves the force of the morning, in charge of things (by virtue of their numbers and their noise), they are in fact being put to a test which shall reveal the truth beneath their words, the reality beneath their self-assumptions and all their pretense.

Behold the nature of the breed!

A crowd has gathered at the Praetorium, a rabble, an obstreperous delegation of Judeans whose presence complicates Pilate’s inclination to release Jesus. These crowds are volatile. Instead of a simple release, then, a choice is offered the people. Let the people feel in charge; let the people decide. The Governor will, according to a traditional Passover amnesty, free one prisoner. Which will it be— Jesus of Nazareth?—whom they have falsely accused of treason against the Empire? Or Barabbas?—treasonous in fact, one who committed murder for the cause?

If they choose the latter, their loyalties to the Empire (which Jesus is supposed to have offended) are revealed a vile sham, and these are no more than temporizing hypocrites, pretending any virtue to satisfy a private end. But the Governor will release only one prisoner. Which will it be?

Jesus—who is the Son of the Father, who is the Kingdom of God come near unto them?

Or Barabbas—whose name means “the son of a (human) father,” flesh itself, the fleshly pretensions to god-like, personal power in the kingdoms of the world?

This, precisely, is the timeless choice of humankind. If they choose the latter, they choose humanity over divinity. They choose one who will harm them over one who would heal them.

If they choose Barabbas, they choose the popular revolutionary hero, the swashbuckler, the pirate, merry Robin Hood, the blood-lusty rake, the law-flout, violence glorified, appetites satisfied, James Bond, Billy Jack, Clint Eastwood, Rambo, the celebrated predator, the one who “turns them on,” over one who asks them to “deny themselves and die.” They choose (voluntarily!) entertainment over worship, self-satisfaction over sacrificial love, getting things over giving things, being served over serving, “feeling good about myself” and having it all and gaining the whole world and rubbing elbows with the rich rather than rubbing the wounds of the poor—

The choice is before them. And they think the choice is external, this man or that man. In fact, the choice is terribly internal: this nature or that one, good folks or people essentially selfish and evil, therefore. It’s an accurate test of their character. How they choose is who they are.

Behold a people in desperate need of forgiveness.

And this, Christ, is the stunning irony: that their evil was made good in you! You knew our nature as children of wrath; you knew exactly how we would choose; you put yourself in harm’s way that our sin might kill you, that your death might redeem us even from our sinful nature! Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, and I grow dizzy thinking about it. All that I can say with certainty, but with everlasting gratitude, is — Amen.


Wangerin, W. (1992). Reliving the passion: Meditations on the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus as recorded in Mark. Grand Rapids, Mich: Zondervan Pub. House., The 24th day.

On the same night in which He was betrayed…

“On the same night in which he was betrayed,” or some form thereof, are familiar words to Christians the world over. They are the beginning of the words of institution of the Eucharist – the Lord’s Supper or Communion. The wording comes from the Apostle Paul, found in 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 as he describes what took place during Jesus’s last Passover supper with his beloved Twelve. As we focus on that last meal, we don’t want to lose sight of the fact that a lot more happened on the same night in which he was betrayed.

I have mentioned previously that Jesus showed us how to live. In a similar fashion, on the same night in which he was betrayed, Jesus also showed us how to live the Lord’s Prayer…

This year I have been traveling through Lent using Walter Wangerin’s Reliving the Passion, an amazing ‘crawl into the story’ treatise of the passion week as recorded in the Gospel of Mark. I have used it off and on over the past 20 years, experiencing new thoughts and emotions each year of its use. This year I saw, for the first time, the way in which Jesus lived out the Lord’s Prayer as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane on the same night in which he was betrayed.

Wangerin reminds his readers that Jesus often taught the same thing twice – first with words and then reinforced with actions and deeds.* On the same night in which he was betrayed, as we watch Jesus praying alone in the garden, we have a glimpse of the Lord’s Prayer actually lived out. With a deep and desperate desire, Jesus pleads with his Father, his Abba, to be saved (rescued) and to be spared of what he knew was coming. He was living out, in raw honesty, the sixth petition of the Prayer…

Lead us not into temptation – Save us from this time of trial.

Jesus pleads not once, not twice, but three times, “Remove this cup from me,” embodying the plea of the seventh petition of the Prayer…

Deliver us (me!) from evil, from the evil one.

As Jesus pleads with his Father, he displays a posture and attitude of faithful and complete obedience saying, “Yet not what I will, but what you will.” Jesus is living out before our eyes the third petition, “which prepares us properly for any answer God may give to all [our] other petitions” (Wangerin)…

Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Wangerin continues: “Implicit, hereafter, in his entering into ‘the hour’ of trial after all is his personal conviction that ‘the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand.’ Jesus, now more than ever in his ministry, is the living embodiment of the second petition, Thy kingdom come. Right now, his acceptance of the Father’s will is the coming of that kingdom here!”

Thy kingdom come.

Jesus begins both prayers addressing God as Father, with the garden prayer showing a deep intimacy – Abba, Father. It’s the expression a child has when her father comes home from work – Daddy!

Today is Maundy Thursday, the same day in which he was betrayed. During a worldwide pandemic, we struggle for words to articulate our deep, raw and desperate feelings. May the Lord’s Prayer be of comfort – especially in light of Jesus’ deep, raw and desperate prayers in the garden. Maybe during this time we, too, are learning to live the Prayer. That would be a good thing!

Walter Wangerin’s Paraphrase

* A great experience would the comparison of Jesus’ own deeds and actions with his Sermon on the Mount exhortations.