The soldier’s revelation echoes back to Peter’s cry –
Jesus had asked, "Who do you say that I am?"
And Peter had answered, "You are the Christ, the son of the living God" –
answered indeed, when Peter was full of faith and expectation for the future,
Now forgotten in the agony and shame of his denial.

"Truly this man was God’s Son"
The revelation hearkens back even farther to the beginning of the Gospel of Mark, which begins with these words: The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
And continues with the first encounter with Christ at his baptism, where once again a voice is heard –
This is my beloved son – listen to him.

Yet now, when all appears to be said and done, the listening has come to an end.
This day, this day of death,
The only one who seems to be paying attention is the obscure centurion guarding the cross.
A man who no doubt took part in the mocking and beating of Jesus –
Who perhaps oversaw the pounding of the nails in his flesh –
A man who had probably become jaded in his duty –
Present at so many crucifixions that he was no longer horrified at this brutal form of political execution -
He was only bored.
His ears were closed by the obscene repetition of terror.
He no longer had sympathy for his victims.

Yet in the stark image of the Crucifixion in Mark’s gospel, it is this duty-hardened soldier that alone sees the truth.
"Truly this man was God’s Son."

Those who were closest to Jesus – those who followed him day and night, who lived with him, ate with him, laughed and cried with him, saw him do miracles, healings, tell stories, cleanse the temple, and ride into Jerusalem as king –
Now they fled in abject terror. One ran to a garden to hide his nakedness – a reminder of the nakedness of all mankind before a God who seeks them.
The others fled into the night when Jesus was arrested.
Peter, his right hand man, deserted after he came face to face with his own cowardice.

And only a stranger regarded the truth.

"Truly this man was God’s Son."

Yet the objective view of the Centurion may or may not be the cry of faith –
We have no record of what happened to this man after the death of Jesus –

We do have a record of what happened to Jesus’ closest followers….

On that night and day of anguish, the disciples saw themselves for the first time for what they really were:
Desperate dust of the earth, frightened of losing their own lives, disturbed by their lack of loyalty, disappointed in all they had hoped for. Blind, miserable and alone, they were broken by their experience of the Cross of Christ.

Yet from this experience, Jesus’ disciples arose to become the apostles who, proclaiming Christ and Him crucified, literally changed the world.

Perhaps it is not enough just to know the truth. Perhaps it is necessary for the truth to bring us to our knees. The disciples were indelibly marked on that day of the Passion, sealed as it were, and marked as Christ’s own forever.
As we begin our descent into Holy Week, we have an opportunity to kneel once more at the foot of the cross, allowing the truth of the Cross to overwhelm us, to remind us that we, like the disciples, are marked as Christ’s own at baptism. To remember once again that we are only dust of the earth, sometimes disappointed in our hopes, sometimes afraid of the future, sometimes blind to our own faults, always in need of a Savior.
We have an opportunity, in other words, to allow the Cross to do its transforming work, that we too might be ready to proclaim, not from a momentary revelation, but from heart-felt experience, that truly, this man is God’s Son.