Charles Spurgeon Commentary Matthew 27:27-30

"Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the Praetorium, and gathered unto him the whole band. And they stripped him, and put on him a scarlet robe. And they platted a crown of thorns and put it upon his head, and a reed in his right hand; and they kneeled down before him, and mocked him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews! And they spat upon him, and took the reed and smote him on the head." — Matthew 27:27-30 (ASV)

Ridicule is very painful to bear. In our Savior’s case, there was great cruelty mixed with mockery. These Roman soldiers were men to whom bloodshed was amusement. Now that one who was charged with making Himself a king had been given up into their hands, we can imagine what a subject for jest the gentle Jesus was in their esteem. They were not touched by the gentleness of His manner, nor by His sorrowful countenance, but they sought to invent all kinds of scorn to pour on His devoted head. Surely the world never saw a more marvelous scene than the King of kings thus derided as a mimic monarch by the lowliest of men.

The whole band of soldiers was gathered to Him, for such sport was seldom provided in the common hall. Jesus is a king, so He must wear the garb of royalty; they stripped Him and put on Him a scarlet robe—some old soldier’s scarlet or purple coat. The king must be crowned. When they had plaited a crown of thorns, they put it upon His head. He must sway a scepter: a reed in His right hand. Homage must be paid to Him, and they bowed the knee before Him. Cruel men! Yet they probably knew no better.

Oh, that we were half as inventive in devising honor for our King as these soldiers were in planning His dishonor! Let us render to Christ the real homage that these men pretended to offer Him. Let us crown Him Lord of all and, in truest loyalty, bow the knee and hail Him, “King.”

Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the common hall, and gathered unto him the whole band of soldiers. And they stripped him, and put on him a scarlet robe. And when they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it upon his head, and a reed in his right hand: and they bowed the knee before him, and mocked him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews! And they spit upon him, and took the reed, and smote him on the head.

These soldiers were men to whom the taking of human life was mere amusement, or, at best, a duty to be performed. If the ordinary Roman citizen found his greatest delight in the amphitheater, where men fiercely fought with each other, and shed each other's blood, or were devoured by wild beasts, you may imagine what Roman soldiery—the roughest part of the whole population—would be like; and now that One was given up into their hands, charged with making himself a king, you can conceive what a subject for jest it was to them, and how they determined to make all the mockery they could of this pretended king.

They were not touched by the gentleness of his demeanor, nor by his sorrowful countenance; but they proceeded to pour all possible scorn and insult upon his devoted head. Surely, the world never saw a more marvelous scene than this—the King of kings derided and made nothing of, treated as a mimic monarch by the very vilest and most brutal of men.

Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the common hall, and gathered unto him the whole band of soldiers. And they stripped him and put on him a scarlet robe. And when they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it upon his head, and a reed in his right hand: and they bowed the knee before him, and mocked him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews! And they spit upon him, and took the reed, and smote him on the head.

Ridicule is very painful to bear at any time, and soldiers have been masters of that cruel art when they have been encouraged in it by their leaders. Remember, brethren and sisters, who it was that bore all this shameful treatment from these brutal men — your Lord and the angels' Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth, who had designed, for a while, to veil his Deity in human flesh. And there he stood, to be "set at nought," — to be made nothing of — by those rough Roman legionaries, the creatures of his own hand, whom he could have destroyed in a moment by a word or a wish. What matchless condescension our gracious redeemer displayed even in his own deepest degradation and agony!