Dr. William A. Ritter
First United Methodist Church, Birmingham, Michigan
Scripture: John 19:23-25
Over the course of 37 Good Fridays, with a few reprieves for good behavior, host pastors for ecumenical services have been handing out assigned texts and telling me: “Here, preach on this.” By now, you’d think I would have seen them all….that my barrel would be full….and that I could quote myself (assuming that’s still allowed). But no, my good Brother Jones stayed awake well into the night, searching for a text about which I have said nothing and, if truth be told (which it should be), have read nothing. And given the sadness of his soon-to-be-accomplished sashay to Seattle, the good Brother Jones won’t even be here for payback time when next we Methodists host the service and I assign the texts.
As texts go, this one is a footnote, really. It has nothing to do with anything Jesus said or Pilate did. It’s about clothes, don’t you see. Not as in “proper attire” for an afternoon crucifixion (before Memorial Day, no less), but as in the clothes that Jesus wore….or did not wear….to his crucifixion.
There are certain facts as John reports them….“facts” in the form of numbers. The main number being four. Four soldiers. And four garments to distribute. Plus an extra. The four soldiers were Pilate’s soldiers….and four soldiers per crucifixion seems to have been a common number (although Acts 12:4 mumbles something about four squads of four, meaning sixteen).
From the soldiers’ point of view, you need to understand that “crucifixion detail” was not considered a plum assignment. I mean, nobody lined up for it. But there were some perks to it. And one “perk” was that you got to take home (with no questions asked) the clothes of the deceased. I kid you not. It was a legitimate perk. History records it. Scholars assume it. Although I doubt that the undertakers at Desmond’s and Hamilton’s still do it. But you could ask.
The gospel says that they (meaning the soldiers) divided four garments. Not stole. Not grabbed. Not made off with. But divided. So, which four?
There is common agreement about three. One soldier would have gone home with Jesus’ headpiece or turban. A second would have claimed his “tallith,” meaning his outer cloak or robe. A third would have walked away with Jesus’ “cincture” or girdle. When we get to the fourth, however, it gets tricky.
The fourth garment could have been his two sandals (considered, for purposes of distribution, as one). But some scholars say it was common to go to your crucifixion barefoot. So, in lieu of sandals, the fourth garment distributed could have been a “haluq”….worn under a tunic….meaning (you guessed it) an undershirt.
This ceremonial stripping may have left Jesus naked, which was the normal practice when Romans crucified people. Which is not pleasant to think about. But if Jesus really was “the new Adam” (“as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive”), perhaps it is fitting for the new Adam to go out as the old Adam came in. Naked, I mean.
But given Jewish disdain for public nudity, it has been suggested that benevolent Roman leaders, not wishing to offend Jewish sensitivities during a pilgrimage period, may have allowed at least minimal coverage.
So now you know….if, indeed, you care. What you and I do not know is what is involved in this “tunic” for which dice are thrown or lots are cast. It was a fifth garment. And there were four soldiers. So, what to do? Well, you could quarter it and send everybody home with an equal portion. But what good is a quartered tunic? Or, you could submit yourself to a little game of chance and win it all (although you could also lose it all). Personally, I’d go for the chance. So would you.
Now I know that gambling anywhere….especially at the foot of the cross….is not a very Baptist-like thing to do. But we’re not talking five card stud here. This isn’t a high stakes, bet the farm, lose the rent money, “first big step on the road to degradation” poker game here. This is a means of distribution, far more than it is an act of degradation. We’ve got four soldiers. We’ve got five garments. We’ve got a Roman practice that says soldiers can take garments home. So how do you split the garments up? Color the soldiers “greedy” if you want, but I’m not really sure that’s what this text is about.
So, smart guy, what is it about? Well, I’m not really sure. But hang tough and I’ll give it a try. The clue seems to be in the word “seamless.” This fifth item of apparel….this gambled-over tunic….is one piece of cloth. And who else….by custom and tradition….wore a seamless tunic? I’ll tell you who wore a seamless tunic. The Jewish high priest, that’s who. And what was the ultimate function of the high priest? I’ll tell you that, too. The high priest was to be the liaison…. the linkage….the bridge, if you will….between God and man. This business about “a seamless tunic” is the text’s way of saying: “This is who Jesus is….the ultimate bridge between God and man. So don’t mess with either the tunic or the bridge.”
The death of Jesus cannot destroy his status. And even the soldiers….four two-bit actors in the footnote of the drama….do nothing to disturb that. The perfect bridge wears the seamless garment. And interesting, isn’t it, that four guys who really have no reason to care have enough sense not to tear it up.
Now I could get real eloquent around that point, describing how the church through the ages has torn and quartered Jesus….ripping off a little part of him as if it were all of him, and then treating the rest of the church as if it had none of him. I live in fear that someday I am going to see on some church’s signboard: “Jesus is here, and we’ve got him.” As in grabbing him…. clutching him….hiding him….monopolizing him. I would submit that far too many….for far too long….have operated as if the part of Jesus they have is the only part there is, thereby allowing them to be “picky and stingy” about the franchise rights. But this is a cooperative day. And I’m a cooperative guy. So I won’t go there.
Instead, let me say an ancillary word about the difference between the garments and the guy. Clothes may drape the man. In a sartorial way, they may also make the man (I’ll concede that much to the tailors). But clothes are no substitute for the man.
Can’t you just see one of those soldiers putting Jesus’ undershirt up for bid on E-Bay? Or a square of his undershirt? I can hear that soldier now, sitting by his monitor singing: “Nickels, dimes, ten dollar bills, my God how the money rolls in.” If only he’d had the foresight to have Jesus sign it….in Aramaic….for authenticity….before dying. Now that would have been greedy. But smart.
The other night, at a church-based silent auction, I saw a Red Wings jersey signed by Steve Yzerman. I found myself wondering if, perchance, it was a game jersey. Meaning, did Stevie actually wear it? Better yet, had he scored a goal while wearing it? Perchance, in overtime?
As members of my congregation know, I have a daughter….a very smart and very lovely daughter….who, come June, will graduate from Harvard Business School. Where, in addition to everything else she has done, she has played right wing on the women’s hockey team. In fact, her season-ending tournament is this weekend. Yale last night. University of Michigan tonight. MIT tomorrow. Two more days and her teeth are home free.
So I actually considered bidding on Yzerman’s jersey as a gift for my daughter. I dropped out when the numbers got into the middle hundreds. Although, were she to have saved it to wear someday at her wedding, I could have gotten off cheap.
But when one considers “my daughter the hockey player,” it’s a good thing that she will soon have a Harvard degree. For there is no magic in the jersey….no magic in the name….no magic in any garment, any relic, any leftover remnant from anybody (up to and including Jesus). The hem of Jesus’ garment did not stop any woman’s 12-year flow of blood. Although faith in the man who wore it (and, as you Baptists like to say, “in his precious blood”) may have. Souvenirs don’t mean squat until you’ve experienced the main attraction.
I suspect that at the end of a long, bloody day….and a long, bloody detail….any one of those soldiers had a choice of options. A piece of Jesus. Or the peace of Jesus. Unfortunately, in scrambling to pick up the one, they may have missed the other.
Given the benefits of hindsight, don’t you make the same mistake.
