The mockers at the cross preach the gospel by accident: He saved others, they sneer, but He can't save Himself. Every word true, except the can't. It was won't, and the won't was love.

Mark's crucifixion account is spare and devastating. Read it without hurrying, and let the centurion, a professional in death, hand you the day's conclusion.

Korah grasped at glory and the ground gave way; Jesus was glory and let Himself be laid in the ground. The mockery at the cross measured everything correctly except the power: legions were available, the nails were optional, and He stayed, because saving Himself and saving others had become mutually exclusive, and He chose you.

The centurion watched how Jesus died and reached the verdict the whole Gospel of Mark has been building: surely this man was the Son of God. Stand where the centurion stood today. Watch the dying, hear the curtain tear, and say the verdict out loud, with your life as well as your lips.