Commentary - Mark 15:22-41

Bird's-eye view

In this stark and fast-paced account, Mark brings us to the very center of human history: the crucifixion of the Son of God. This is not a private execution. It is a public, governmental act, carried out at a place with a name, at a specific time, with an official charge posted for all to see. The event is saturated with a brutal and blasphemous irony. The King of the Jews is enthroned on a cross. The Savior of others is taunted for His inability to save Himself. The true Temple is mocked by those who worship in the temple of stone. But through all the mockery, darkness, and dereliction, God is accomplishing the definite atonement for His people. The passage pivots on three cosmic events: the supernatural darkness, the cry of forsakenness, and the tearing of the temple veil. These are not random occurrences; they are signs that the old world is being judged and a new world is being born. The climax is not found in the jeers of the priests but in the confession of a pagan soldier, who, seeing how Jesus died, declares the truth that Israel's leadership had rejected: "Truly this man was God's Son!" The passage concludes by noting the faithful presence of the women, the first witnesses not only of His death but who would soon be the first witnesses of His resurrection.

Mark's account is terse and unflinching. He does not dwell on the physical agony but rather on the public shame and the theological significance of the event. Jesus is crucified as a king, flanked by His "courtiers," two robbers. He is mocked as a prophet and priest. But in His death, He establishes His kingdom, fulfills all prophecy, and opens the way into the true Holy of Holies. The cross is where the wrath of God against sin and the love of God for sinners collide, and where the wisdom of God makes foolish the wisdom of men.

Outline

Context In Mark

Mark's Gospel is a book of action, presenting Jesus as the authoritative Son of God who has come to inaugurate the kingdom. The first half of the book establishes His identity through His teaching and miracles, culminating in Peter's confession. The second half is a determined march to Jerusalem and the cross. This passage is the apex of that journey. The conflict with the Jewish authorities, which has been simmering since chapter 2, has now reached its lethal conclusion. Jesus has cleansed the temple, silenced His opponents in debate, and pronounced judgment on their leadership. Now, that judgment is ironically turned back on Him as He is executed by the Gentiles at the instigation of the Jews. The crucifixion is the ultimate demonstration of the principle Mark has been developing: the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45). This event is immediately followed by His burial and the climactic resurrection in chapter 16, which vindicates everything Jesus claimed and accomplished on the cross.

Key Issues

The Enthronement of the King

We must resist every temptation to sentimentalize the cross. This was not a quiet, private martyrdom. This was a state execution, a public spectacle designed for maximum shame and deterrence. But God, in His sovereign wisdom, turned this instrument of Roman terror into a throne for His Son. Every detail that was intended to mock Jesus's kingship actually served to proclaim it. He is brought to a named place, Golgotha. An official charge is nailed above His head: "THE KING OF THE JEWS." He is flanked by two others, as a king would be. His garments, the royal robes, are divided up as spoils of war. The rulers of the old covenant order come to pay their "respects" with taunts and jeers.

The whole scene is a coronation in reverse, a glorious enthronement disguised as the ultimate degradation. The world, in its supposed wisdom, thought it was disposing of a nuisance, a failed messiah. But in reality, they were participating in the very act that would disarm them and establish a kingdom that could never be shaken. As Paul would later say, if the princes of this world had known what they were doing, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory (1 Cor. 2:8). Their ignorance was the tool God used to accomplish His eternal plan. This was not a tragedy that God redeemed; it was a victory that God won through what appeared to be a tragedy.

Verse by Verse Commentary

22 Then they brought Him to the place Golgotha, which is translated, Place of a Skull.

The procession ends. They arrive at the designated place of execution. Mark, writing for a likely Roman audience, translates the Aramaic name. Golgotha. The Place of a Skull. Whether it was named for the shape of the hill or because it was a place littered with the remains of the executed, the name is grimly appropriate. This is the place of death. The first Adam brought sin and death into the world in a garden. The last Adam is about to conquer sin and death on a hill of death, turning a graveyard into the birthplace of a new creation.

23 And they tried to give Him wine mixed with myrrh; but He did not take it.

This was likely a narcotic, a mild anesthetic offered by compassionate women of Jerusalem to ease the suffering of the condemned. Jesus refuses it. He came to drink a different cup, the cup of God's wrath, and He would drink it to the dregs. He would not have His senses dulled. He was undertaking this work with His eyes wide open, fully conscious of the physical and spiritual agony He was about to endure. This was not something that happened to Him against His will; it was an obedient sacrifice He was actively making.

24 And they crucified Him, and divided up His garments among themselves, casting lots for them to decide who should take what.

Mark states the central fact with brutal simplicity: "And they crucified Him." Then he moves immediately to the soldiers. As Jesus hangs there, the execution squad gets on with their work, which included dividing the victim's property. His garments are their wages. They gamble for His clothes, oblivious to the cosmic significance of what is happening before them. This action, callous as it is, is a direct fulfillment of Psalm 22:18, "They divide my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots." The enemies of God, in their greed and indifference, are playing their assigned part in God's script.

25 Now it was the third hour, and they crucified Him.

Mark notes the time. The third hour, by Jewish reckoning, is 9 a.m. The official business of the day of redemption begins. This is a historical event, grounded in time and space. The repetition of "they crucified Him" emphasizes the finality and the horror of the act. The day's work had begun.

26 And the inscription of the charge against Him read, “THE KING OF THE JEWS.”

This was the titulus, the official charge required by Roman law. Pilate wrote it, and as John's gospel tells us, he refused to change it despite the protestations of the Jewish leaders. Pilate intended it as a final jab at the Jews, a way of mocking their national aspirations. But in the providence of God, this pagan governor was made to declare the central truth of the event. Unwittingly, he wrote the gospel in brief and posted it above the head of the Savior. The charge against Jesus was, in fact, His true identity. He was dying precisely because He was the King of the Jews, and therefore the King of the world.

27-28 And they crucified two robbers with Him, one on His right and one on His left. [And the Scripture was fulfilled which says, “And He was numbered with transgressors.”]

A king must have his court. In this black parody of a coronation, Jesus is flanked not by honored counselors but by common criminals, insurrectionists. He is placed in the middle, the position of dishonorable prominence. This fulfills the prophecy of Isaiah 53:12. He who was without sin was officially counted as a sinner, and not just a sinner, but one who belonged in the company of the worst of them. This is the heart of substitution. He takes our place, our number, our guilt, so that we might take His place, His number, His righteousness.

29-30 And those passing by were blaspheming Him, shaking their heads, and saying, “Ha! You who are going to destroy the sanctuary and rebuild it in three days, save Yourself by coming down from the cross!”

The mockery begins with the common people, the passersby. They shake their heads, a gesture of contempt. Their taunt is based on a twisted version of Jesus's words about the temple of His body. The irony is thick enough to cut with a knife. They challenge Him to do the very thing His mission forbids. He could have come down from the cross. The power that raised Lazarus was more than sufficient to un-nail Himself. But He cannot save Himself and save sinners. He is staying on the cross precisely to "save Himself" in the truest sense, by completing the work the Father gave Him to do. And in doing so, He is destroying the old temple and raising up the new one in three days.

31-32 In the same way, mocking Him to one another, the chief priests also, along with the scribes, were saying, “He saved others; He cannot save Himself. Let this Christ, the King of Israel, now come down from the cross, so that we may see and believe!” Those who were crucified with Him were also insulting Him.

The religious leaders join the chorus. Their mockery is even more potent because it comes from a place of theological knowledge. They state a profound gospel truth, but in the tone of derision: "He saved others; He cannot save Himself." This is precisely right. His inability to save Himself is the very engine of our salvation. Their demand for a sign, "Let him come down... so that we may see and believe," is utterly disingenuous. They had seen countless signs, healings, exorcisms, even the raising of the dead, and they had not believed. Had He come down, they would have called it a trick of the devil. Faith is not generated by signs; signs confirm a faith that is the gift of God. Even the robbers crucified with Him join in the abuse, demonstrating the universal contempt in which He was held.

33 And when the sixth hour came, darkness fell over the whole land until the ninth hour.

From noon until 3 p.m., a supernatural darkness covers the land. This is not a solar eclipse; it is a cosmic sign. In the Old Testament, darkness is a symbol of God's judgment (Amos 8:9; Joel 2:31). As Jesus hangs on the cross, the Father turns out the lights on the world. This is the hour of judgment, and that judgment is falling squarely on the head of His beloved Son. The sun itself refuses to shine on this scene. Creation itself is groaning as its Maker bears the sin of the world.

34 And at the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, “ELOI, ELOI, LAMA SABACHTHANI?” which is translated, “MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?”

At the very end of the three hours of darkness, Jesus cries out. This is the central cry of the cross, the nadir of His suffering. Mark gives us the Aramaic, the raw sound of His agony, before translating it. This is the opening line of Psalm 22. This is not a cry of unbelief, but a cry of dereliction. He still calls Him "My God," but experiences the relational breach that our sin deserves. For the only time in all eternity, the Father turns His face away from the Son. On that cross, Jesus became sin for us (2 Cor. 5:21), and the holy God cannot look upon sin. All the hell and alienation that we deserved was compressed into that moment and poured out upon Him. This is the mystery at the heart of the atonement.

35-36 And when some of the bystanders heard it, they began saying, “Look, He is calling for Elijah.” And someone ran and filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on a reed, and gave Him a drink, saying, “Let us see whether Elijah will come to take Him down.”

The crowd misunderstands His cry. "Eloi" sounds something like "Elijah." Their response is a mixture of confusion and continued mockery. Let's give Him a drink and prolong things a bit, they say, just to see if the great prophet will come and rescue Him. Even in His deepest agony, His words are twisted and used as an occasion for scorn. The sour wine, the cheap drink of soldiers and common laborers, is the only refreshment offered to the Lord of glory.

37 And Jesus, uttering a loud cry, breathed His last.

This is not the fading whimper of a dying man. It is a loud, strong cry. John tells us the content of the cry: "It is finished" (John 19:30). It is a shout of victory, a declaration that the work of redemption is accomplished. He did not die from exhaustion; He gave up His spirit. He laid down His life of His own accord. He was in command, even in the moment of His death.

38 And the veil of the sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom.

At the very moment of His death, God provides another sign, this one in the heart of the Jewish religious system. The massive, thick curtain separating the Holy Place from the Holy of Holies in the temple is ripped apart. And it is torn "from top to bottom," signifying that this is an act of God, not of man. The way into the presence of God, which had been barred since the fall, is now thrown open by the death of Christ. The old system of sacrifices and priests is now obsolete. Access to God is no longer through a building, but through the broken body of His Son.

39 And when the centurion, who was standing right in front of Him, saw the way He breathed His last, he said, “Truly this man was God’s Son!”

Here is the climax of Mark's Gospel. The Jewish leaders have condemned Him as a blasphemer. His disciples have fled. The crowds have mocked Him. But a Roman centurion, a hardened pagan soldier in charge of the execution, sees how Jesus died, with that victorious cry, and he makes the great confession. The first human being in Mark's gospel to recognize Jesus as the Son of God after His ministry begins is not a disciple, not a priest, but a Gentile. The veil in the temple is torn, and the first man to look through and see the truth is a Roman. The gospel is already going out to the nations.

40-41 And there were also some women looking on from a distance, among whom were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the Less and Joses, and Salome, who, when He was in Galilee, were following Him and serving Him; and there were many other women who came up with Him to Jerusalem.

Where were the twelve? John was there, but the rest were scattered. But the women were faithful to the end. They could not intervene, so they watched from a distance. Mark names three of them, but adds that there were "many other women" as well. These were not casual followers; they had been with Him from Galilee, "serving Him," likely providing for His needs out of their own resources. Their courage and loyalty stand in stark contrast to the failure of the male disciples. It is no accident that it would be to these same women that God would grant the privilege of being the first witnesses to the resurrection. They were last at the cross and first at the tomb.

Application

The cross of Jesus Christ is the central fact of history, and it demands a response. It is not something we can be neutral about. To the world, then and now, it is foolishness. It seems like weakness, failure, and absurdity. To those who are perishing, the message of a crucified savior is an offense. But to us who are being saved, it is the very power and wisdom of God.

We must see in the cross the depth of our sin. It was our pride, our rebellion, our lawlessness that held Him there. We must not stand with the mockers, but rather see ourselves among the transgressors with whom He was numbered. It is our sentence He is serving, our forsakenness He is enduring.

We must also see in the cross the height of God's love. God did not spare His own Son but delivered Him up for us all. This was a definite atonement; He died to actually secure the salvation of His people, not just to make it possible. He paid the price in full. The torn veil means that because of Christ, we can now draw near to God with confidence. There is no barrier left.

Finally, we must respond like the centurion. We must look at how He died for us and confess the truth: "Truly this man was the Son of God." And having made that confession, we must live like the women, faithfully following and serving Him, not just when it is easy, but all the way to the cross and beyond, trusting that the one who died is also the one who rose again, victorious over sin and death.