March 22, 2026
• Rev. Mindie Moore
Lent Week 5: “His blood be on us!”
Matthew 27:20-26
When my husband and his siblings were very young, his family received a cassette tape in the mail. It was from some kind of religious group...I’m not sure who or why they were on the mailing list, but one of his siblings claimed it as their own, and put it in their Walkman. They listened to it around the house and then took it with them when Zack’s mom packed everyone up to go to the grocery store.
All of a sudden, from the backseat, this young child belts out at the top of their lungs, “OHHHHH THE BLOOOOOD OF JESUS!!”
Apparently, the tape accomplished its intended evangelistic purpose, at least with one of the children in the Moore household.
Now, I don’t know what your reaction is to the idea of “the blood of Jesus.” Depending on what your church background is, this might be something that has been very significant in your theological journey. OR it could be something that makes you super uncomfortable and feels overly churchy. It might just seem weird to talk about “the blood”.
But the truth is, when things get serious, blood is often involved. We have a whole variety of sayings that invoke the idea of blood into everyday situations. We say things like:
“It made my blood boil,” when we’re really angry.
“There’s bad blood,” when there’s conflict or division between people (or a Taylor Swift bop)
“It’s in my blood,” to describe something that is just innately true to who we are
“I bleed ____insert color here” to describe our loyalty to a particular sports team (maybe this is less serious, but it can be its own kind of painful...hello to the 2025-26 Pacers’ season)
Blood carries this deep symbolism with it, to describe all kinds of significant or even binding situations. And that’s been true for centuries. It was certainly true in the ancient Jewish context that today’s Scripture takes place in. Blood was considered to be the carrier of life, so it was a sacred thing. And when covenants were made, when promises were sworn over one’s blood...that was a way of saying that someone was all in. That they were so confident in whatever was being promised or declared, that they were willing to put that confidence and certainty on someone’s life.
It’s our fifth week of looking at different things said to or about Jesus during his time of suffering. And this week, we have a crowd, gathered at his trial, doing just that. Saying something that is meant to be that binding and profound. They’re all in, they know exactly what they want to see happen...and they swear to the outcome over blood.
It’s a tragic moment, because the crowd that’s gathered here is essentially Jesus’ last possible exit out of his inevitable fate. And this crowd has been given a choice: they can have Jesus released, or they can let this infamous criminal named Barabbas released.
In Matthew’s telling of these events, we don’t see a lot of thoughtful debate take place, we don’t see a moment to pause and consider, we just see a wild and raucous crowd who immediately and aggressively shouts for Barabbas to be freed and for Jesus to be executed.
This group of people is really amped up. They’re angry and ready to witness punishment. And as Pilate begins to feel helpless, and as he literally washes his hands of the moment, signaling that he thinks they’re wrong, the crowd responds by screaming back at him this decision and the commitment that comes with it. They say: (SLIDE) “His blood be on us and on our children!”
Now, the crowd plays a pretty interesting role in how Matthew tells the story of Jesus. Because in his telling of Jesus’ life, “the crowd” is essentially a character that he uses to help move the narrative along and show the progression of what is going to happen to Jesus. Initially, we see the mention of “a large crowd” frequently encountering Jesus during his ministry. As his popularity grows, “the crowd” shows up and wants to hear every word, witness every miracle. The crowd is a curious and present spectator early on.
We see another large and now very excited crowd line the streets during Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem—we'll explore that story more next week on Palm Sunday. That crowd is actively participating; they’re praising Jesus, declaring him to be something really special and worth worshipping. They seem to know who he is and what he’s about and they LOVE it.
And then we get to this version of the crowd. A crowd who is also deeply engaged...but so easily swayed to the complete opposite of where they’ve been before. In fact, the scripture tells us that they were “persuaded by the chief priests to insist on Barabbas’ release instead of Jesus.” And all it takes is a little encouragement for things to build and get out of control and for any kind of good will that the crowd had towards Jesus to get completely lost.
We watch the crowd respond to Pilate’s question with this mass-produced certainty about what should happen to Jesus. Their certainty is so strong, it leads them to call for Jesus’ death and make an oath that should carry deep consequences and only be made in the most solemn way. Their certainty takes them to somewhere so dangerous and heartbreaking.
And whether it’s the crowd gathered centuries ago, or it’s you and me right now, the truth is that (SLIDE) Certainty can lead to dangerous places, especially when our faith is involved.
There’s a great book called “The Sin of Certainty” by Peter Enns. He’s one of my favorite contemporary theologians, and in this book, Enns talks about the fact that certainty, or maybe even better put, the PURSUIT of certainty, can lead us away from the things that look like Jesus and instead steers us towards the destruction that comes with needing to be in the right. He points out how certainty has led Christians to do great harm to each other throughout history and in our present day as well. How clinging to certainty makes it impossible to be truly curious and look for what might be, but instead locks us into one way of doing things, one direction to move. And what’s so tragic about it all is that certainty can sweep us into things that we don’t even realize we’re in until we’re in over our heads.
I think we see this with the crowd in this Scripture. We see them swept up in the need to be on the right side of religious power, clinging to the certainty that they’re making the right choice. We see them be SO certain they’re right...that they’re willing to stake the wellbeing of themselves and future generations on this decision.
And sometimes the momentum of the crowd can reinforce certainty that is not based in truth or in who we know we want to be. That’s what’s so scary about when we let ourselves get swept up, when we stop asking questions or interrogating what’s going on around us, when we parrot narratives we’ve heard even if we don’t have the experience or information to back it up. It’s not just that we fall victim to logical fallacies...it’s that people get hurt. Harm is done. All in the name of being certain and right.
This is such a challenging story for us to examine because it is really easy when we read this to point fingers. It’s easy to talk about “the crowd” like it’s this thing that is totally other from us. And unfortunately with THIS particular text, this has not only been read with sort of a detached, judgmental lens, but it’s also been explicitly used as a tool of antisemitism. As a way to condemn the entire Jewish faith.
I want to be so clear that that kind of reading is not how this Scripture, or any Scripture, should ever be used. A reading of Scripture that reflects the heart of Jesus does not use these texts to harm groups of people. When we see that, major red flag. That’s not what we do here, we’re not doing it today.
And a much truer, and less comfortable, reading of this Scripture invites us to place ourselves IN the story. To ask the hard question of, “When have we been like this? When have we acted like this crowd is acting here?” A commentary I was reading put it like this: “We should not stand outside this text and wonder about these people. We should stand inside this text and ask ourselves what we would have done differently.” (Feasting on the Gospels)
WOULD we have done anything differently? OR, is this story a bit of a mirror for us, to show us that we are ALL capable of getting swept up like this? That we are all capable of doing real harm? That we are all capable of acting in ways that are beyond who we want to be and lead us to be all in for the wrong things?
I was trying to think of a good example of this...and there are lots of historical and contemporary examples I could use about really heavy and horrible things. But where I landed is actually something that’s a little lighter, but maybe convicting in a different way? Because, knowing who’s in the room here in our context, it’s probably not that hard for most of us to look back at past or present examples where that “crowd mentality” has really hurt people, and for us to say, “I would do it differently.” I know that many of you ARE very intentionally doing things differently on a regular basis.
Where I find myself getting caught up are the places where it doesn’t seem as significant, but my character still starts to wade into some shaky ground. Where I want to show up in a very specific way, but I find myself being pulled in a different direction because of the crowd around me. It happens every single week.
It happens at a local indoor soccer venue, where I watch my son play in a U10 league.
I saw this meme yesterday, which was spot on (SLIDE)
And if you’ve ever been to a youth sports event, you are nodding your head right now. Because you KNOW how wild it can get. You can have some of the NICEST people gathered. Who, during the rest of the week, these are people you love to chat with, you’ve seen them smile and laugh, they seem chill. And then the whistle blows and we become two distinct groups of enemies.
It’s bonkers. Because the world is full of very challenging things. The U10 indoor soccer league is NOT THAT DEEP.
But there’s something about that environment, there’s something about the competition, and the overall vibe of the crowd that can just bring out a really not great side of people. Talk about certainty leading us to places we don’t need to go? When I am certain that MY kid’s team deserves to win more than yours and that my kid could never do anything wrong and your kid is out to do whatever on that field...it’s not pretty! And I wish I naturally showed up as the calming presence in those moments, but it takes every bit of me to NOT get caught up in the crowd. I told two of my friends yesterday that I was using this in my sermon and they better hold me accountable to practice what I preach. Most weeks, I have to remind myself that I am a baptized child of God, and that the Holy Spirit does in fact dwell within me, and...oh yeah, half the people here know I’m a pastor. Trying to resist the pull of the crowd at youth soccer was not the test of faith I anticipated this year, but here we are.
This might not be your specific challenge, but there are so many ways we can get swept up in the crowd, and you might consider what this looks like for you. But not matter what this looks like, I think there’s a basic way for ALL of us to be rooted in something deeper, and to stay true to what we know and believe even when the heat turns up with the people around us, or the pull of acting from certainty gets so strong.
And it starts with something that sounds super simple...but has a SIGNIFICANT spiritual impact. It starts by holding on to and living from the humility that Jesus modeled. Because humility roots us to something true. Truer than the crowd, truer than what we think we know. (SLIDE) Humility roots us to the way of Jesus.
Humility is so important because it reminds us that we DON’T know it all...and we don’t need to. Humility reminds us that we might not always be right and that’s actually ok. Humility interrupts the internal frenzy that comes when we fight to be certain, by any means necessary. It stops the momentum when the crowd is hurtling towards harm and offers a better way. And humility points to the one who faced that kind of crowd, calling for his death, and could somehow find love, compassion, mercy, and who went to the cross despite a million reasons not to.
Humility reminds us who we CAN be. Humility reminds us of the grace and love that Jesus gave that crowd in that moment...and that Jesus give US right now.
I think the best news in this really hard story is that Jesus can see all that’s happening with this crowd...he can be turned against and condemned...and as heartbreaking and disappointing as that had to be for him, he STILL chooses this humble love. He still acts in a way that is so selfless. He still goes willingly to the cross.
And meets the crowd at the cross with love and grace...and Jesus meets US at the cross with love and grace too.
This idea of humility can feel kind of tricky. I could do a whole sermon on what this actually looks like in our lives. But what I know is that this is one of those spiritual things that when we seek it, Jesus shows up and gives us what we need to move about the world WITH it. It is scary to lay our certainties down...it’s SUPER scary to take ourselves out of the momentum of whatever “the crowd” looks like in our world.
As scary as it can be...Jesus is not going to leave us alone to pursue that kind of humble love. Jesus doesn’t say, “well, you did it this way before and so you’re just kind of stuck there!” No. Jesus is always about possibility. Jesus is always about how love can be lived out. Jesus is always inviting us to come to the cross and find that love...then we receive that love...and we give that love away.
So maybe there is one thing I’ll invite you to BE certain about...and that’s the love and presence of Jesus with you. No matter who you are. No matter what your world looks like. No matter what you’re trying to navigate through or how you’re trying to show up in a really challenging world.
Jesus sees you, knows you, loves you, and is present with you. And that’s the truest truth.
Let’s pray.