Saturday, March 17, 2018

Mark 11:1-11


Mark 11:1-11

11 When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples 2 and said to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. 3 If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’ ” 4 They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, 5 some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” 6 They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. 7 Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. 8 Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. 9 Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting,
“Hosanna!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
10      Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
11 Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.


          Mark 11:1-11 is the story of the entry into Jerusalem, also related in Matthew 21:1-11, Luke 19:28-35, and John 12:12-16. All four of the gospels give some version of Jesus' entrance into Jerusalem before the passion scenarios begin to play out themselves.  While the basic thrust of the story presented by each gospel writer is the same, each narrative embellishes tones down and notices different currents that ripple under the main flow of the outline. 

The text reveals an abandon appropriate to the full release of tenacious hopes and ancient trust in the God who will redeem the people.  The text is a Christophany, a manifestation of the Christ.  However, one needs to say this with the same caution that Mark has built into the account.  Mark does not acclaim him as the Davidic messiah, and Jesus rejects this in 12:35-37.  

         The story is a fulcrum upon which the gospel of Mark pivots. Highlighting Jesus’ identity and relationship to the coming kingdom of God and “our ancestor David” (11:10), Mark points back to the beginning of the gospel, where Jesus is heralded as God’s Son, the “Lord” (cf. 1:11; 1:3). He also points forward, to Jesus’ death, where Jesus’ sonship is again pronounced (15:39) and the reality of his lordship takes the shape of a Roman cross. In this sense, the story contains both flashbacks and foreshadowing, set between the conclusion of Jesus’ ministry with his last miracle (the healing of blind Bartimaeus, 10:46-52) and the beginning of Jesus’ journey to the cross.

         There are really two stories.  

One story is about the sending for the colt in v. 1-6. Mark specifically identifies the geographical location. 1They, Jesus and the disciples, were approaching Jerusalem. The journey toward the Holy City and all the events to unfold here are at last completed.  However, Mark also notes that their path leads them to Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives. Zechariah 14 specifically recalls that the coronation march for the divine warrior‑king begins at the Mount of Olives.  In Jewish tradition, this is the place where the triumphal entry of the new messianic ruler of the city will start.  Before Jesus enters the city, he sends his disciples ahead of him on a special mission. Thus, he sent two of his disciples and said to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’ ” Some scholars insist that the information Jesus relays to his disciples about the waiting colt is not necessarily a demonstration of any special foreknowledge about the animal, its condition or its location.  They argue that Jesus could have made prior arrangements with the colt's owner and is now simply passing along to two disciples the details of the deal he had already worked out.  However, the detail Jesus knows about his animal and his use of the phrase "The Lord needs it. . ." certainly seems to identify this as another wonder story. Jesus intuitively "knows" a colt meeting all his requirements is located on a certain street.  He also can pass along to his disciples the words that will act as a kind of "open sesame" for them.  We should see their response of "The Lord needs it. . ." as a reference to Jesus as "the Lord"‑‑not, as some suggest, as "the Lord" or master of the colt. They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. Typical of Mark's gospel, the disciples' mission to get the colt goes exactly as Jesus had foretold.  The animal is unbroken, tied where he said it would be, and someone confronts the disciples only with questions to which Jesus has given them answers in advance.  

The point is that the messianic King's humility extends beyond the simple beast of burden scorned by the Roman overlords of Judea, reaching even to the innocent, immature offspring of such an unassuming beast. Jesus' gesture of self-effacement is a repudiation of the faster-greater-better spirit of his age. True kingship, the King of Kings quietly proclaims, is humility.[1]

The other story is about the entry proper in v. 7-11. Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. The actions next taken by the disciples and the people are symbolic of the authority of Jesus. In II Kings 9:13, the people perform a similar gesture just before they proclaim Jehu king.  In Zechariah 9:9, the divine warrior‑king mounts up and rides into the city‑‑just as Jesus himself now prepares to do. Symbolizing the portrayal of Jesus as the Savior of the common and ordinary people, a large crowd assembles and spreads their cloaks on the road. Other people cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. We might contrast this account with the reception of the Queen of Sheba by Solomon in I Kings 10:1-13 and the acclamation of Jehu as king of Israel in II Kings 9:13. Mark's text clearly intends to draw a parallel between the actions of the messianic warrior‑king Zechariah prophesies and the actions of Jesus, the still‑secret, messianic, Prince‑of‑Peace king.  Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, quoting Psalm 118:25-25, the psalm traditionally sung as the crowds would approach the temple. “Hosanna! The word is a prayer for salvation, "Save, now" or "Save, I pray." However, I find it difficult to read these words in this setting without my mind going to a hymn by Jeanette Threlfall, (1821-1880) that opens with “Hosanna, loud hosanna,” referring to little children singing through the court and temple. The anthem is lovely, as they sing to Jesus, who blessed them. It refers to arriving from Olivet, with the victor palm branch waving as the Lord of earth and heaven rode in a humble state. Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! 10 Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! An ancient hymn from the 600s by Theodulph of Orleans and translated by John Mason Neale in the 1800s refers to the lips of children singing sweet hosannas to the King of Israel and the royal Son of David, who comes in the name of the Lord, the King and Blessed One. Hosanna in the highest heaven!” The third verse of “Hosanna loud hosanna” refers to singing the final phrase as that ancient song we sing, for Christ is our redeemer, Lord of heaven and our king. It concludes with urging us to praise Christ with heart, life, and voice, for in his blissful presence we can eternally rejoice. The psalmist could address the priestly blessings now repeated in Mark 11:9 to either the royal personage alone or all the people following the king's procession to the temple. However, Mark cites the royally directed blessing statement that identifies "the coming kingdom of our ancestor David." This exclamation is only in Mark and seems to allude to traditions of Davidic messiahship that Mark has pointed to at key events in his narrative. For example, immediately before Mark narrates the entry into Jerusalem, the blind man whom Jesus healed, Bartimaeus, heralds Jesus as the “Son of David” (10:47-48). It is possible, however, that considering Jesus to be the Son of David without qualification looks back to the past too much and does not account for the future of Jesus’ exaltation and coming. For this reason, Mark 12:35-37 may be correcting the understanding that the Messiah is David’s son and therefore beneath him. By quoting Psalm 110:1, Jesus proclaims that one must interpret the Davidic sonship of the Messiah through the lens of exaltation. This means that the crowd’s hosannas and blessings herald not only the one who is the humble son of David, but also the one whom David has exalted as his Lord, who triumphantly proclaims the coming kingdom. At this point, Mark could have made a direct connection between David and Jesus. However, this passage does not refer to Jesus neither as "king" nor as the "Son of David."  The text is coy about explicitly declaring Jesus "king," and Jesus himself keeps completely quiet.  The crowd treats Jesus like royalty but does not declare him as such.  Mark clearly draws the scene to remind Jewish readers of the predicted messianic king's triumphant procession into the city. Yet scholars have also noted that these details would have given a visual message familiar to Gentile readers as well.  There are elements here that are equally at home among the traditional victory processions of Greco‑Roman warrior‑kings.  The large citizen escort, accompanying hymns or chants, symbolic acquiescence in the new ruler's authority, and a concluding temple ritual: All were part of pagan‑political events familiar to the Greco‑Roman world. 

The conclusion of Mark is almost comical. What most distinguishes Mark's version of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem from that of the other gospels is his ending.  Instead of Jesus' immediately continuing to the temple and further demonstrating his power and authority by throwing out the merchants and money‑changers, Mark has Jesus simply slip off into the night.  The grand procession into Jerusalem seems to be all "sound and fury."11 Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve. Jesus, who has just celebrated a messianic‑type entrance into the city, symbolically "claiming" Jerusalem as his own, calls a sudden halt to his messianic mission because it is past his bedtime. Mark's highly ironic sense highlights the fact that at the very moment the crowds seem at last to recognize Jesus and seem eager to affirm his identity, Jesus chooses to emphasize that he is not the kind of Messiah they have been expecting.

Two Old Testament passages form the background of the story.

Zechariah 9:9

Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! 

Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!

Lo, your king comes to you; 

triumphant and victorious is he, 

humble and riding on a donkey, 

on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

 

Psalm 118:25-26

25  Save us, we beseech you, O LORD! 

O LORD, we beseech you, give us success!  

26  Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD. 

We bless you from the house of the LORD.

 

Thus, Mark opens his story by describing a setting that has definite Old Testament roots.  Zechariah 14 describes the coronation scene of Yahweh, the "divine warrior." Scholars have long made the connection between Zechariah 14 and Mark 11, despite differences in their tones and topics. 

Churches celebrate this event on Sunday. That fact may divert us from the truth of the type of day this was for Jesus, his disciples, and the city they entered. Some biblical scholars have suggested that the procession into Jerusalem took place on Monday.[2] Of course, what day of the week it took place does not really matter, except from the perspective of the people who rejoiced when Jesus rode into the city. If it was Monday, it was a weekday, not the Sabbath, which, for Jews, was sundown Friday to sundown Saturday. Thus, it was certainly not a “holy day” in the religious sense of the term. Further, if it was Sunday, it still was not a holy day, a religious day, like Sunday is for us. Sunday would have been like our Monday, the first day of the workweek, the day after the Sabbath rest. It was time to sweep the stoop, open the shop, wash the clothes, go to the market, repair the oxcart, get the bread in the oven, deal with matters left over from the previous week that they had set aside for the Sabbath and so forth. Besides, there was the Passover coming in a few days. Lots to do! Regardless of the actual day of the week, for the people who greeted Jesus as he rode into the city, it was a Monday type of day.  

Is God interested in the marketplace? Does God care about the public arena, about the world of work, about trade, professions, law, government, education, and industry? Many Christians seem to operate on the everyday assumption that God is not. For too many, God cares about the church and its affairs, about getting people to heaven, but not about how society and its public places conduct themselves on earth. The result can be a dichotomized Christian life in which we invest most of our time that matters (our working lives) in a place and a task that we think does not really matter much to God, while struggling to find opportunities to give some leftover time to the only thing we think does matter to God: evangelism. Yet, the Bible speaks comprehensively about the human marketplace. The Old Testament word was “the gate,” the public square where people met and did their business together. God is intensely interested in this world of human social engagement and activity, this world where we spend most of our time. Work is God’s idea. Genesis 1-2 gives us our first picture of the biblical God as a worker —  thinking, choosing, planning, executing, evaluating. So when God decided to create humankind in the image and likeness of God, what else could humans be but workers, reflecting in their working lives something of the nature of God?[3]

A processional entry of a personage like Jesus into the capital city would also recall the Roman triumph of a victorious general surrounded by his conquering troops. The troops would sing songs in praise of their leader, just as do the disciples. Like the returning hero, Jesus heads for the temple of his God. However, there are also notable differences that the first-century listener would notice. Unlike the returning hero, Jesus wears no crown. Jesus’ crown comes later. Yet, we can see here in this welcome a fulfillment of the heavenly situation of the will of God being done on earth, as it is heaven.[4]

Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, in their book The Last Week, say that on that Sunday people in Jerusalem would have witnessed two processions, not one — the Pilate Procession and the Jesus Procession. The Pilate procession for the Roman governor and his accompanying military force coming into the city from the west provided that military deterrent during the festival. According to the contemporary historian Josephus, when Pilate first brought Roman troops to Jerusalem from Caesarea some time earlier, he committed an unprecedented violation of Jewish sensibilities by allowing the troops to bring their military standards and busts of the emperor into Jerusalem by night and set them up in the temple. A massive protest demonstration in Caesarea’s stadium forced the removal of the standards, but only after the Jews used tactics of nonviolent mass resistance, lying down, and baring their necks when Pilate’s soldiers, swords in hand, surrounded and attempted to disperse them. Josephus also speaks of protests that broke out on another occasion when Pilate appropriated temple funds to build an aqueduct for Jerusalem. On this occasion, Pilate had Roman soldiers, dressed as Jewish civilians, and armed with hidden clubs, mingle with the shouting crowd, and attack the people at a prearranged signal. The soldiers killed or hurt many. The Jesus procession was on the east side of the city. Jesus sent his disciples to get a colt, which we assume was a small donkey (Mark is not specific). When they secured the colt, Jesus rides it down the steep road from the Mount of Olives to the Golden Gate of the city, with a crowd of his supporters shouting “Hosanna!” — a Hebrew word that mixes praise to God with a prayer that God will save his people and do it soon. They spread their cloaks on the colt and cut branches from the surrounding fields — actions they would perform only in the presence of royalty. Borg and Crossan see the Palm Sunday parade as a pre-planned political protest, and a look at the context seems to back that up. The symbolism of a ruler riding on a donkey would not have been lost on those putting their cloaks in the road, for they would have remembered the words of the prophet Zechariah: an image of a king coming into Jerusalem with shouts of joy from the people. He is “triumphant” and “victorious” — words that Romans and other imperial leaders would have embraced — but he is “humble” and rides on a donkey instead of a war horse (Zechariah 9:9). In fact, continues the prophet, “He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war-horse from Jerusalem.” This king is not a conquering hero who uses weapons of mass destruction, but one who will break the power of military might with humility, justice, and a “peace” for all the nations (Zechariah 9:10). Jesus’ parade is thus an intentional parable and statement of contrast. If Pilate’s procession embodied power, violence and the glory of the empire that ruled the world, Jesus’ procession embodied the kind of kingdom that God was ushering in through Jesus’ ministry of healing, his message of good news and his sacrificial death on a Roman cross. Pilate and the empire he represented were the most powerful force in the region on that Sunday.



[1] (see David R. Bauer, "Matthew," in the Asbury Bible Commentary [Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing House, 1992]).

[2] “Chronology of the Holy Week and resurrection appearances in the gospels.” The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. IX Nashville: Abingdon, 1995, 704-705. 

Crossan, John Dominic. “Why did Jesus go to Jerusalem? A Holy Week reflection.” HuffPost, March 31, 2012, updated May 31, 2012. Retrieved September 22, 2018. 

Doig, Kenneth Frank. “The triumphal entry on Palm Sunday,” New Testament Chronology, Lewiston, N.Y.: Edwin Mellen Press, 1990, chapter 20. nowoezone.com. Retrieved September 22, 2018. 

Parkinson, James and Ernie Kuenzli. “When did Jesus enter Jerusalem?” The Herald, heraldmag.org. n.d. (but URL says 2012). Retrieved September 22, 2018.

[3] —Christopher J.H. Wright, “Saints in the marketplace: A biblical perspective on the world of work, TheOtherJournal.com, September 29, 2010. Retrieved September 27, 2018. 

[4] Barth, Church Dogmatics, III.3 [51.2], 446.

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