Luke 22:1-23:56a is the Luke account of the passion narrative.[1] I have learned much from the commentary by Joseph Fitzmyer on Luke. Jesus comes to the climax of his "exodus," in 9:31 and ascension to the Father. Fitzymer discusses the themes of the passion narrative. 1) Faith in the risen Christ. The goal is the proclamation. 2) Accomplishment of God's will in 22:37, 23:34b 35, 23:36. 3) He notes the tendency toward a more than human Jesus, such as foreknowledge of betrayal, Jesus' power, and last words from the cross. 4) Apologetically, it testifies to the innocence of Jesus, the distancing of Roman officials from the events, and a tendency to excuse the desertion of the disciples.
The church year for most Christians throughout the world includes the observation of Palm/Passion Sunday. For many Christian traditions, the account by Matthew, Mark, and Luke of the passion of Jesus during the last hours of his life constitute the Gospel lesson. The remembrance of this story year after year is a matter of re-visiting a painful event.
What does repetition mean in our lives? For those with cable television, for example, you will find The Shawshank Redemption somewhere. This brutal but uplifting story of an innocent man beating the cruelty and evil of a mid-20th-century prison and escaping to freedom is a story many of us do not repeating. It did not win the best picture of 1995, which went to Forrest Gump. Repeating movies is not a favorite pastime of mine, so once is normally enough. I like to watch Groundhog Day in February. Déjà vu is another movie I like to watch occasionally. Star Wars is a series of movies I like to watch for its overarching myth of good battling evil. Some old movies, such as An Affair to Remember, I will enjoy again.
I have read and re-read some books. Theologian Wolfhart Pannenberg has kept me coming back to read and re-read. Part of Karl Barth Church Dogmatics keeps returning to me. Something about Friedrich Schleiermacher keeps me coming back. Some philosophers, especially Descartes, Locke, Hume, Kant, Hegel, Whitehead, and Charles Taylor, I tend to keep close and keep finding new insights. I read Nietzsche more than once, but mostly because he gets things wrong in such an interesting way. Some books I would like to read more often I do, such as Lord of the Rings. If we expand our consideration of repetition to music, I am sure most of us have artists and individual songs to which we keep coming back for a variety of reasons.[2]
Our culture seems to value the new. Why do we spend so much time with stories we already know? Soren Kierkegaard wrote a book on repetition. He said that which one repeats has been, otherwise one could not repeat. The fact that it has been makes the repetition into something new. Frankly, this is a difficult book. For most of us, if we were going to understand it, it would be through reading it repeatedly. Yet, if we receive new insights in each reading and gain in our understanding, have we repeated? Has not the book become something new to us?
Think of why we repeat many things in our lives. Here are the traditional categories.
We may develop habits, such as running or other exercise for a physical discipline. We do not need to think about them, and that is their value.
We may repeat because of an addiction, which is like a habit on evil steroids.
We may develop a ritual, such as what to do on Thanksgiving, Christmas, or New Year. They are ritual, and not habit or addiction, because they are symbolic and expressive. The ritual does not rule us. Rather, we choose ritual because of the symbolic meaning the ritual has to us. Private moments of meditation and corporate worship for spiritual discipline, can become ritual in that sense.
Status quo bias is an interesting reason for repetition as well. People tend to stick with previous decisions because of the cost of coming to a new decision is mentally exhausting. “I do not love this job, but whatever. I do not want to look for a new one.” We grow accustomed to certain political views we no longer question or to certain stores at which we also shop.
The research of Cristel Antonia Russell and Sidney Levy discusses the notion of repetition under different categories than the ones I just mentioned.
One reason we repeat is not complicated. We simply like it. They call it “reconstructive consumption.” In this case, repetition breeds affection, the contrast to the notion that familiarity breeds contempt. One might say that repetition can make one feel like one has come home. Their scientific term is “mere exposure effect." This scientific expression explains why we watch repeatedly Tim Robbins' character Andy Dufresne burst through that disgusting sewer pipe during his escape from Shawshank. It is the theory that we like something simply because a previous experience exposed us to it. Familiarity may breed contempt, as the old saying goes, but it can also turn a film into a cult classic.
They identify a second reason for repetition as nostalgia. It can be nice to remember the past merely because it is past. Clay Routledge refers to the historical dimension of nostalgia and the autobiographical dimension of nostalgia. We may have a fondness of the way things were. However, on the personal side exposure to songs we liked in our youth makes us feel loved and worthy. It simply makes us feel good.
A third reason is therapeutic. One can take a journey now because one took a similar journey earlier in one’s life. If one has been a pastor in a certain area for 40 years, for example, the pastor may want to make sure to visit each of the churches at some point near retirement. It can be a therapeutic journey. One can re-read a book or re-see a movie, not just because of repetition, but also because of a need to reconcile oneself with one’s past. It becomes a pilgrimage or sentimental journey. Applied to movies and books, repetition means they cannot surprise us. We know how they end. We know how we will feel when they end. Something new may be exciting in its discovery, but it may also prove to be a waste of time and disappoint us.
Their fourth reason for repetition is existential. Russell and Levy put it this way.
The dynamic linkages between one’s past, present, and future experiences through the re-consumption of an object allow existential understanding. Reengaging with the same object, even just once, allows a reworking of experiences as consumers consider their own particular enjoyments and understandings of choices they have made.
This is not mere nostalgia or therapy. It is pop culture as palimpsest—an old memory, overlaid with new perspective.
On the other side of this, however, are the films that are really, good but so difficult to watch that most of us will only want to see them once. The brutal first sequence of Saving Private Ryan with its realistic portrayal of D-Day, or the senseless violence and inhumanity of Schindler's List, for example, are hard to watch once, let alone multiple times. The viewer does not want to go through that emotional pain again -- even if both films are cinematic masterpieces. We tend to see Saving Private Ryan on TV only during Memorial and Veterans days and Schindler's List rarely because programmers seem to realize that they are difficult to revisit. (Some other films that fall into this category are the post-apocalyptic father-son drama The Road, Nicolas Cage drinking himself to death in Leaving Las Vegas or the haunting fight over a home in House of Sand and Fog. Kate Winslet may be the queen of "one and done" films, with movies like Revolutionary Road, Little Children, and The Reader to her credit.) You will not see any of these flicks very often on TV or in your local DVD vending machine, either, even though critics acclaim them as among the best.
The most difficult of these "once is enough" films, however, is Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. Time magazine made it the number 1 ridiculously violent film, although looking at the rest of the list, this judgment seems politically or anti-Christian motivated. The film portrays the brutality of Jesus’ crucifixion with so much blood and pain that critic Roger Ebert, who might have seen more movies than any person has ever seen, called it the most violent film he had ever watched. Slate critic David Edelstein reviewed it as "The Jesus Chainsaw Massacre." It is arguably one of the most difficult films to watch in the history of cinema, and yet, not only did it gross more than $370 million during its theater run, it also sold 4.1 million copies of the DVD on its release date. Some movies may be difficult to watch more than once. Yet, they may also remind us of some important truths that we are afraid to confront.
Repetition is an interesting phenomenon. Yet, combined with that, why is once enough for other experiences? What might we be trying to avoid?
The passion narrative in all four gospels is a difficult read. Yet, I have done it every year since the mid-1970s. The story reveals truths about God and humanity that I find difficult to face.
The need to have a connected narrative of the last hours of the life of Jesus seems clear. How could the Jewish Messiah die? The four gospels have a closeness in presentation not present elsewhere in their accounts. This shows that the basic “word of the cross” (I Corinthians 1:18) was a story known well in the early church. The point is to make it clear that Jesus did nothing to deserve death. We again see the limits of Jesus, as even his disciples abandon him. No one in power seems willing to defend him.
The struggle of Jesus during the passion narrative was for us. It was for us that he risked this journey to Jerusalem. It was for us that he ate that last meal with the disciples. It was for us that he agonized in prayer. It was for us that he suffered upon a cross. Let us learn this story well. We will see our sin. We will see our own struggles in a new way.
As we move through the narrative, what has struck me this time is the silence of God. Most of us have had times in our lives when we would have liked God to speak or to act. God left us to our struggles. If you have had such an experience and you still follow Jesus, you have had your way dealing with the silence of God. The cross is not unique, however, in being a deafening expression of the silence of God.
The cross is a tragic event in the long and tragic history of humanity. I am not sure how we can look at that history and not long for God to do something to end the suffering. Yet, God remains silent. In the passion narrative, we hear about violence, betrayal, sin, and death. Will Rogers said, “You can’t say civilization don’t advance. In every war they kill you a new way.” We have learned the truth of that statement in this century. General Try Sutrisno of Indonesia justified the killing of dozens of civilian protesters on November 13, 1991, by saying, “In the end, they had to be shot. These ill-bred people have to be shot . . . and we will shoot them.” Yes, the violence we see in this story is all too familiar to us.
We see violence in this story, as Jewish and Roman leaders condemn a just man to his death. You would think that we would have progressed beyond such violence. A look at the headlines of newspapers and magazines will tell you that is not the case.
The terrible events behind this week ask each of us: Are we prepared to follow God through all the events of our lives, or just the events that meet with our approval? This is a story of betrayal, injustice, cruelty, and death. We shall be tackling tough issues such as the violence within Holy Scripture, the dark side of human nature, and what a loving God does with our unloving ways.
An innocent man is about to be murdered here. In the New Testament, God is preparing another only son for a cross. How could a loving God do such a thing? Dare we speak of such horrifying reality in church? These are terrible texts. We may read them and want the story to stop. These texts remind us of our helplessness. It would be nice if we could embrace the story of Jesus but skip this part and read of Easter. Yet, we dare not do so. This part of the story tells us far too much about God and about us. A religion is no good if it will only speak on bright, sunny days, but has nothing to say for the late-night sweats, the 3:00 am nightmares. A faith that is relevant only for the orderly and calm moments of our lives is little faith at all. Fairy tales do for young children -- they help us to see our worst fears acted out, to name our unnamed terrors. Oddly, this is redemptive. More than just accurately describing our terrors, the Bible depicts a God who embraces our misbegotten cruelty. The terrible events behind this week ask each of us: Are we prepared to follow God through all the events of our lives, or just the events that meet with our approval? The demon death stalks Jesus every step of his way. His very acts of life marked him for death. Nevertheless, the good news is that he did not flinch from the murderous mob. He did not side step the terror. He came among us. He marched with us up to death -- the Place of the Skull. He embraced the terror, all the terrible, horrifying, painful ambiguity of human existence, and said, "Brothers and Sisters, I love you still."
Further, these weak, sinful disciples would become leaders of the church. What is astounding is that God has purposefully chosen the struggling, sinful, all too weak church of today to proclaim the gospel to the world.
One important conversation had taken place before this passage. Jesus picked twelve men—twelve ordinary, imperfect, unimpressive men—and bet his life upon them. They were fearful, envious, forgetful, rash, doubtful, arrogant, self-seeking, and slow to understand. They were young and uneducated. They were not wealthy, nor were they from prominent families. They had little to offer. He was not surprised when one betrayed him. He was not surprised when everyone deserted him in his greatest hour of need. He went to his death before one person understood his purpose, and no one stood by his side.
Jesus knew his disciples’ weaknesses all too well. However, he did not see their defects as roadblocks to success. Instead, he chose those men to be the ones to complete the work he came to accomplish. He gave them a great responsibility. He let them carry on the message for which he gave his life. Nevertheless, he did not leave them unprepared, unequipped, or uninspired. He clearly communicated that he viewed them as people of value and purpose, and he poured himself fully into loving them and serving them in such a way that eleven of the twelve would end up giving their own lives to serve others and spread his message.
The Lord's Prayer contains this phrase: "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." Why should we pray this prayer? The story of the last week of Jesus' life gives some insight into the answer. Our capacity for sin is obvious. We have no right to sit in judgment of others. Testing in life can come in many different ways. There are no guarantees what will happen as that testing comes. Will you preserve yourself through the test? Will you fall?
Everything depends on what you do to keep yourself from falling. Jesus warned the disciples of the coming test. They fall asleep. As readers, we have no right to excuse this behavior due to the meal they ate, the wine they drank, or the lateness of the hour. Because of their failure to pray, they failed the test. They desert Jesus in this hour of greatest need. Peter especially failed the test. He followed the soldiers who were taking Jesus at a distance. When they bring Jesus inside the high priest's house, Peter waits outside. In that time, he denies Jesus three times. He had failed the test. Yet, there is hope. He is a forgiven man. No matter how good we think we are such failure can happen to any of us. The good news is that even our failure does not have the last word! Rather, God is the one who has the last word. The story of Peter and the disciples does not end in defeat, but in victory. They did not become wonderful. They received forgiveness.
G. K. Chesterton's Father Brown says that people are not any good until they realize how bad they are or might be. They need to recognize how little right they have to all their snobbery, sneering, and talking about criminals as if they were apes in a forest thousands of miles away. They need to squeeze out of their souls every drop of the oil of the Pharisee. Brown states fact. When people tap into the fathomless wells of rage and hatred in the normal human heart, the results are fearful. "There but for the grace of God go I." Only restraining and renewing grace enables anyone to keep the sixth commandment.
At the end of Albert Camus' The Plague, at the end of the terrible, devastating plague in Algiers, the city slowly begins to recover. It looks as if the plague is over and the world is at last getting back to normal. In the last moment of the book, a rat scurries into a gutter. I have always thought it meant that this brush with evil is over. Nevertheless, always, just below the surface of things, evil awaits its time. The plague can begin again at any time.
In his last days, Jesus became an isolated man. He was in Galilee, with crowds of people around him. Many wanted to follow him. He sat down with tax collectors and sinners and ate with them. People invited him to parties. People liked to have him around. Yet, he disagreed with some important people. He disagreed with the Pharisees and Scribes about the role of the Law. They believed it revealed the will of God. He simply disregarded it. The Law was not even important enough to debate, as far as Jesus was concerned. In addition, some people believed politics was everything. They wanted to overthrow the Roman government. They believed the Messiah must help them gain political liberation. However, what they considered so important, Jesus disregarded. Jesus had a way of disturbing people. He did unexpected things.
One of the most unexpected things Jesus did was to go to Jerusalem. When he arrived, he went to the Temple. He performed what many people consider a prophetic act to destroy the temple. He at least wanted a radical reform of what happened there. Now, even those who believed in the importance of Temple sacrifice were against him.
By Thursday night, the Passover meal, Jesus knew his time on earth was at a close. He shared a final meal with his disciples. Let us look at what happens.
Jesus was so isolated that one of his own disciples would betray him.
Jesus was so isolated that his disciples argued over which of them were the greatest. At least, however, we see our own sinfulness. We are too much like them. We become so petty, even as we seek to follow Jesus. We can allow our own little desires and wishes get in the way of what is most important in life.
The sacrifice of Jesus begins this night. He offered himself to his followers and to the world as the savior. That death opened a relationship with God that has spread throughout every generation and every culture. Our sins do not have to separate us forever from God. In fact, we know that God is not gleefully rejecting us because of our sins. This sacrifice gives us the most important information we need concerning God. Yet, we become accustomed to it, that we assume the truth of it. God wants us to have a friendship with God.
Jesus prayed alone in Gethsemane. My suspicion is that Jesus faced his impending death with some fear. He shared with his disciples the message of the kingdom of God. He proclaimed that message in story and action with the people of his day. Now, as he neared the end of his life, he knew he had so much more to say. Few of his people responded to him. His work was not finished.
The guards arrested him. He went before the religious and political leaders. They judged him worthy of death. His disciples abandoned him.
The work of Jesus has not finished. We can join him in completing the work he set out to do. When we gather at the table of the Lord, we do so knowing our own sin and need for forgiveness. We are not here because we are perfect. We are here because we need the grace God offers here. We need the relationship with God that Jesus has made possible.
The whole community loved a priest in the Philippines as a man of God. Yet, he carried the weight of a secret sin he had committed many years before. He had repented, but still had no peace. He had no sense of the forgiveness of God. In his parish was a woman who claimed to have visions in which she spoke to Christ and Christ spoke to her. The priest was skeptical. To test her, he said, "The next time you speak with Christ, I want you to ask him what sin your priest committed while he was in seminary." The woman agreed. A few days later, the priest asked, "Well, did Christ visit you in your dreams?" Yes, Christ did," she replied. "And did you ask what sin I committed in seminary?" he asked. "Yes,” Well, what did Christ say?" She responded, "I don't remember."
22:1-2 is the story of the plot against Jesus. The source is Mark. Now the festival of Unleavened Bread, which is called the Passover, was near. 2 The chief priests and the scribes were looking for a way to put Jesus to death, for they were afraid of the people.
22:3-6 is the story about the betrayal of Jesus.[3] The source is Mark. 3 Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was one of the twelve; always an unbelievable fact in the gospel story, 4 he went away and conferred with the chief priests and officers of the temple police about how he might betray him to them. 5 They were greatly pleased and agreed to give him money. 6 Therefore, he consented and began to look for an opportunity to betray him to them when no crowd was present. The story of opposition to Jesus reaches its climax as Satan uses one of his own disciples. This text follows directly upon verses 1-2, explaining how the priests were able to arrest Jesus “with guile.” It does not explain the motivation for the treachery. One can only infer a motive, although religious leaders promise him money. Mark will give special attention to developing the Passover/Passion connection, making deliverance a common theme that ties these events together.
22:7-13 is the story of the preparation for the Passover meal. The source is Mark. 7 Then came the day of Unleavened Bread, on which the Passover lamb had to be sacrificed. 8 Therefore, Jesus sent Peter and John[4], saying, “Go and prepare the Passover meal for us that we may eat it.” 9 They asked him, “Where do you want us to make preparations for it?” 10 “Listen,” he said to them, “when you have entered the city, a man carrying a jar of water will meet you; follow him into the house he enters 11 and say to the owner of the house, ‘The teacher asks you, “Where is the guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?”’ 12 He will show you a large room upstairs, already furnished. Make preparations for us there.” 13 So they went and found everything as he had told them; and they prepared the Passover meal. Luke edits the version from Mark and creates the words for Jesus in verse 8, clear evidence to most scholars for this process among the evangelists. The story implies foreknowledge by Jesus, but it is also possible Jesus made prior arrangements. The instructions to Peter and John are vague, but that is because Jesus does not want Judas to know when he will be alone. Luke understands the meal as a Passover Meal.
22:14-20 is the story of the Last Supper. The source might be Mark, or it may be his own tradition. The purpose is to relate what Jesus said and did in the interests of faith and worship in these last hours. The idea that Jesus anticipated sharing a meal with his friends in the heavenly kingdom is quite likely. I can find no reason to doubt the historicity of this occasion and the unique interpretation Jesus gives to it.[5] This story lets the example of Jesus speak for itself. Remarkably, the Lord, who experienced betrayal this night, provided for others when he gave his disciples bread and cup, in the context of a prayer of thanksgiving. This meal was for others. 14 When the hour came, he took his place at the table, and the apostles with him. 15 He said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; 16 for I tell you, I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.” 17 Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks (the Christian theology of prayer has retained the stress on thanksgiving as the starting point and motif of prayer for this reason[6]) he said, “Take this and divide it among yourselves; 18 for I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.” 19 Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, (the Christian theology of prayer has retained the stress on thanksgiving as the starting point and motif of prayer for this reason[7]) he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Therefore, the bread is no longer simply what it was before.[8] Yet debatable: to symbolize, represent, is like, conveys, means the same as, is the same as, is identical with, and so on. In I Corinthians 11:23-4, “took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you.” The tradition behind the statement in Paul emphasizes even more that the sacrifice of the life of the Jesus was for others. Do this in remembrance of me.”[9] This indicates this meal has already become a regular part of their communal life. 20 In addition, he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you (meaning “for” the recipients and present to them[10]) is the new[11] covenant in my blood (establishing a new people of God,[12] separating them from the rest of the Jewish people by their confession of Jesus[13]). We need to note the link between the cup and death. In Corinthians 11:25 reads, “In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, and “This cup is the new covenant in my blood.” Jesus’ body is the bread, the disciples participate in Jesus’ death, and the cup is the climax of the last supper because it represents Jesus’ redemptive sacrifice and anticipates his return as the Son of Man. Each occasion of the Supper of the Lord is the Messianic banquet of the revealed reign of God, the fullest form of the fellowship of Christians with the Lord now revealed to them, and an anticipation of final revelation of the inaugurated in the resurrection.[14] If the body and blood for us refer back to the life of Jesus offered in his death, the decisive event in the Supper is not this recollection, but present participation in the fruit of this sacrifice. The offering of my body and blood has for you the effect that as you eat this bread I give my life to you as yours, and that as you drink of this cup you may live with joy and now with sorrow, as innocent and not condemned. As I have given my life for you, it belongs to you. You may live and not die. You may rejoice and not mourn.[15]
Luke’s account of the meal Jesus had with his disciples the evening before his crucifixion has enough distinctive features from that of Paul in I Corinthians 11:23-25, Mark, Matthew, and John, that he may rely upon a different tradition. Historically, one might expect Jesus to have eaten the Passover meal with his disciples while they were in Jerusalem. Yet, the texts do not mention bitter herbs and there is no liturgy connected with the eating of the Passover lamb. There does not appear to be an interest in this being a Passover meal, but rather only as a memorial meal Jesus ate with his disciples. This curious disinterest in the meal as the celebration of Passover suggests that the tradition quickly transposed the last supper of Jesus with his disciples into a meal for use in worship by Christian practice and theological interpretation. Historically, they celebrate a Passover meal. However, Jesus re-interprets its symbolism with the words of institution, “This is my body … this is my blood.” Schnackenburg will offer that he sees no reason to doubt the historicity of this re-interpretation. The coming suffering of Jesus has saving significance for the world. He also wants the meal celebrated regularly, as was the Passover meal. One can at least say that the idea that Jesus anticipated sharing a meal with his friends in the heavenly kingdom is quite likely. Understanding the death of Jesus within the framework of the Near Eastern sacrificial system, which usually involved only animals, played a basic role in the Christian theological interpretation of Christ’s death. Eating and drinking, which the disciples did at this time with Jesus, becomes a saying of Jesus in which the disciples eat and drink at the command of Jesus. Each occasion of the Supper is the Messianic banquet of the revealed kingdom of God, the fullest form of the fellowship of Christians with the Lord now revealed to them, and an anticipation of the final revelation of the inaugurated in the resurrection.[16]
This tradition, stemming from the evening before the death of Jesus, forms the basis of the Christian celebration of the Lord’s Supper and therefore of Christian worship in general. In this sense, “institution” by Jesus himself is basic to the celebration. We can no longer reconstruct with certainty the historical nature and course of the last meal that Jesus took with his disciples before his arrest on passion. The problem, comparing this passage with Mark 14:22-24 and Matthew 26:26-28, is divergence in important details. The wording is different. One cannot even be certain it was a Passover meal. Yet, when we look at the meals of Jesus in the gospels, when we particularly note the miraculous feeding in Mark 8:1-10, and note his reference in parables to the banquet, we can see the importance of the eschatological fellowship of the reign of God. We have in these meals the central symbolical action of Jesus in which he focuses and depicts the message of the nearness of the reign of God and its salvation. Not least of all, Jesus gives symbolical expression to the forgiveness of sins that he links to the acceptance of his message and granted by it, since the table fellowship that Jesus practiced removes everything that separates from God. The primary issue in table fellowship as a depiction of the salvation of the rule of God is fellowship with God and the mutual fellowship of all who share in the meal.[17]
In 22: 21-23, we have elements of a discourse of Jesus after the meal. Luke has modified the Mark version of the story. 21 Nevertheless, see, the one who betrays me is with me, and his hand is on the table. 22 For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!” 23 Then they began to ask one another which one of them it could be who would do this. Judas has celebrated the Passover meal with Jesus, reminding us that participation in the meal is no guarantee that we will not betray Jesus. The passion is a descent into an abyss during which Jesus himself will hesitate as he finds himself with no human support. He will be betrayed, abandoned, denied, and cursed by his disciples; he will be calumniated in the presence of the chief authorities of his people, who are determined to use every artifice to put him to death; he will be sentenced to crucifixion cynically by the representative of Roman justice, who knows he was handed over out of envy.
In 22:24-30, we have several sayings concerning who takes precedence among the disciples. Its source is Mark 10:41-45, so Luke puts this argument among the disciples in a very different setting than Mark. 24 A dispute also arose among them as to which one of them was to be regarded as the greatest. 25 But he said to them, “The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them; and those in authority over them are called benefactors.26 But not so with you; rather the greatest among you must become like the youngest, and the leader like one who serves. 27 For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one at the table? But I am among you as one who serves. 28 “You are those who have stood by me in my trials; 29 and I confer on you, just as my Father has conferred on me, a kingdom, 30 so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom, and you will sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel. The image Luke may have had in mind is that of the Hellenistic banquet accompanied by appropriate discourse, as happens often in the philosophical tradition. In this case, the initiating cause of the discourse is a feud among the disciples. Moving from infidelity, Jesus now deals with struggle for position. The saying in verses 24-27, like Mark 14:25-27, have to do with greatness equating with humility. Verses 28-30 have to do with the twelve thrones, while verse 28 seems to suggest the trials the disciples will face in the future. The language is similar to apocalyptic writings of the time. In context, if betrayal is as low as one gets, how high may one get? Jesus promises reward from God for the kind of fidelity Jesus wants.
In 22:31-34, based upon Mark 14: 26-31, we find Jesus predicting the denial of Jesus by Peter. 31 “Simon, Simon, listen! Satan has demanded to sift all of you like wheat, 32 but I have prayed for you that your own faith may not fail; and you, when once you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” 33 And he said to him, “Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death!” 34 Jesus said, “I tell you, Peter, the cock will not crow this day, until you have denied three times that you know me.” The Satanic plot will overtake Peter as well. The passage prepares us for the leadership and missionary role Peter will have in Acts. Leaving the upper room, Jesus becomes decisively negative in outlook. Why such pessimism? The promise to followers of Jesus is this. Jesus would not abandon them but reassemble them as his flock. Mark and his readers, like other early Christians, held Jesus’ disciples and Peter in esteem as saintly witnesses, especially since the martyrdom of Peter. Nevertheless, such faithful witness to Jesus did not come easily or under the disciples’ own impetus. When the disciples of Jesus who had walked with him most intimately, who indeed had already begun their following of him, faced the issue of accompanying him to the cross, they abandoned him and denied him. In a sense, Luke is offering a pedagogy of hope based on the initial failure of the most famous followers of Jesus had a second chance for them. He relates the story of the betrayal by Judas and the story of the denial by Peter. As a transitional scene, it prepares us for what follows at Gethsemane. The arrest of Jesus at Gethsemane involved failure by his disciples, eventually specified in terms of flight, denial, and betrayal. How could one reconcile such failure with God’s plan for Jesus?
In 22:35-38, a passage unique to Luke, we find sayings concerning the two swords. Jesus gives advice considering the coming crisis, changing what he said in 10:4. 35 He said to them, “When I sent you out without a purse, bag, or sandals, did you lack anything?” They said, “No, not a thing.” 36 He said to them, “But now, the one who has a purse must take it, and likewise a bag. And the one who has no sword must sell his cloak and buy one. 37 For I tell you, this scripture in Isaiah 53:12 must be fulfilled in me, ‘And he was counted among the lawless’; and indeed what is written about me is being fulfilled.” 38 They said, “Lord, look, here are two swords.” He replied, “It is enough.” The disciples do not understand the crisis. Opposition to Jesus creates that crisis. Jesus is now in the role of the suffering servant described in Isaiah 53:12. We need to read v. 38 with a sense of irony. Clearly, the disciples have totally misunderstood, enhancing the tragedy.
In 22:39-46, based upon Mark, we find the story of the prayer at the Mount of Olives. 39 He came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives; and the disciples followed him. 40 When he reached the place, he said to them, “Pray that you may not come into the time of trial.” 41 Then he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, knelt down, and prayed, 42 “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.” The prayer has some similarity with the Lord’s Prayer in Matthew 6:12 and Luke 11:4, “Thy will be done.” Jesus withstanding temptation becomes an example to all in the face of their temptations. We find here the notion of the divine will that impresses itself upon us as a power that acts upon us.[18] We need to pause for a moment and reflect upon the power of this prayer. Jesus will submit to the will of his Father rather than seek the fulfillment of his wants. We have wants and desires. Animals have only needs. They react to their world out of that need. We have needs as well, but we also have wants and desires. Needs and wants may coincide, but they do not always do so. We have need for physical provisions like food, clothing, shelter, health, and transportation. We also have needs for more the intangible, such as love or attention. Needs are normal. We rightly suspect our wants. I am thinking of the tedious quality of children telling adults what they want. I am also thinking of the crude way adults can want luxury, affairs, or revenge. Wants can derive from our culture or our egos. We will want them to satisfy our desire for pleasure, status, and belonging. Our wants lead us to consider what are the right auto, house, neighborhood, fashion, clothing, jewelry, and investments. Our wants shape the enhancement of life. The needs of life are far fewer than most people realize.
Amid such a somber text, I hope you do not mind a lighthearted illustration. An Amish man momentarily stopped his farming to watch a new neighbor arrive. Among the many items that came out of the delivery van were a deluxe refrigerator with a built‑in ice cube maker, a state‑of‑the‑art stereo system with a compact disk drive, a remote‑control television with VCR, and a whirlpool hot tub. The following day, the Amish man and his wife welcomed the new resident bringing a gift of homemade bread. After the usual preliminary greeting and cordial conversation, the Amish man concluded with "...and if anything should go wrong with your appliances or equipment, don't hesitate to call me...." "That's very generous of you," the new arrival interrupted. Thank you!" "No problem," the Amish man replied, "I'll just tell you how to live without them."
[[43 Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength. 44 In his anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground.]] 45 When he got up from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping because of grief, 46 and he said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray that you may not come into the time of trial.” Although Jesus urges the disciples to pray, they do not do so. The passage focuses upon the relationship of Jesus with the Father, rather than the incomprehension of the disciples on which Mark focuses. The submission of Jesus to the Father is in sharp contrast to the failure of the disciples to heed the counsel of Jesus to pray. The disciples become an object lesson, a parable, like Mark 13:34-37,[19] with its injunction to watch rather than sleep. A man who leaves his home leaves his slaves in charge and tells them to be on the watch. Jesus then urges his hearers to keep awake, for the master of the house will come suddenly and at an unexpected time.
Early Christians had a tradition that before he died Jesus struggled in prayer about his fate. The scene of Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane has had a special place in Christian piety. Yet even within the framework of Jewish thought the presentation of Jesus in Gethsemane could have caused problems. The Maccabean martyrs were righteous people who had died violent deaths at the hands of unjust authorities, but they had faced their fate with the resolve to give a “noble example of how to die a good death willingly and generously.” Jesus would not compare favorably with such a model unless one understood that his reluctance and anguish were caused not simply by facing struggle with Evil, the great trial that preceded the coming of the kingdom. The passage may have created an implicit scandal among theologians and preachers who explain away the prayers about the hour and cup so that Jesus is not really asking his Father to deliver him from death or is not thinking of his own suffering but of all the sins of the world. Luke is consistent with Mark in being deliberately dramatic here: When Jesus separates himself from the body of the disciples and then from Peter, James, and John, he symbolizes his increasing alienation from his disciples. The double prayer about the hour and the cup catches the intensity of the request.
Hebrews 5:7-10 is an independent witness.[20] Jesus of Nazareth offered prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears to his Father, who was able to save him from death. The Father heard him because of his reverent submission. Even as the Son, Jesus of Nazareth learns obedience through what he suffered, becoming the source of eternal salvation for all who conform their lives in accord to him. Early Christians had a tradition that before he died Jesus struggled in prayer about his fate. They understood his prayer in terms like the hour and the cup, which in the tradition of his sayings he had used to describe his destiny in God’s plan. In the last days of his life in Jerusalem as the leaders of his people showed unremitting hostility, both rejecting his proclamation and desiring to get rid of him, Jesus struggled in prayer with God about how his death fitted into the inbreaking of God’s kingdom. In his struggle and prayer, Jesus prayed for his Father to deliver him from the death of an outlaw at the hands of his enemies. Such a prayer will not shock those who give sufficient attention to Jesus’ view that the inbreaking of God’s kingdom involved a massive struggle with diabolic opposition in whose arsenal death had hitherto served as a mighty weapon.
22:47-53, based upon Mark, is the story of the arrest of Jesus. 47 While he was still speaking, suddenly a crowd came, and the one called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him; 48 but Jesus said to him, “Judas, is it with a kiss that you are betraying the Son of Man?” 49 When those who were around him saw what was coming, they asked, “Lord, should we strike with the sword?” 50 Then one of them struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his right ear. 51 But Jesus said, “No more of this!” And he touched his ear and healed him. 52 Then Jesus said to the chief priests, the officers of the temple police, and the elders who had come for him, “Have you come out with swords and clubs as if I were a bandit? 53 When I was with you day after day in the temple, you did not lay hands on me. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness!” As told by Luke, Jesus is very much in charge of the situation, even though authorities must arrest him. Even in his arrest, he has compassion and forgiveness. The plan of the Father is to find its fulfillment. Jesus appears here as ready to meet the fate that stands before him. There is no approval here of taking up the sword, as Luther would have it. Jesus maintains his own position, renouncing violence and preferring to suffer injustice. Reaching for the sword can only provoke a violent response in which they will fall victim. One cannot defend Jesus in this way. Jesus came down on the side of protection of life.[21] The story of Jesus’ arrest becomes a fundamental statement about the use of force. Jesus backs up his teaching in the Sermon on the Mount with the deeds of the passion. This lays the foundation for real obedience: the conduct of humanity derives from that of Jesus, or from that of God. People repeatedly demand that God send angelic legions, visible or invisible, to eradicate all evil through the forces of heaven; God refuses. God’s pathway through history is not the conquest of all resistance; we find it reflected in Jesus’ way of the cross. People can never agree in their prayers about where one is to find the evil they want God to destroy. Therefore, they turn on each other instead, each trying to get the best of the other in prayer. God refuses in principle to impose God’s will by force, seeking the response of faith. Faith must be as free as love, which no one can ever force. True faith comes into being at the very point where God is most powerless: face-to-face with the cross of Jesus. As the disciples forsook Jesus, they are blind to the way Jesus has chosen for himself, a way he must follow to the end. They misunderstand the way they must follow and serve Jesus. They are in error concerning their own power and capacity to follow Jesus. They deny in practice when they ought to have made good on their previous professions of their desire to follow him. Of course, they do not follow him. They quarrel, fall asleep, run away, disown, and betray him.[22]
22:54-62, based upon Mark, continues the story of the denial of Jesus by Peter.[23] 54 Then they seized him and led him away, bringing him into the high priest’s house. But Peter was following at a distance. 55 When they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat among them. 56 Then a servant-girl, seeing him in the firelight, stared at him and said, “This man also was with him.” 57 But he denied it, saying, “Woman, I do not know him.” 58 A little later someone else, on seeing him, said, “You also are one of them.” But Peter said, “Man, I am not!” 59 Then about an hour later still another kept insisting, “Surely this man also was with him; for he is a Galilean.” 60 But Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about!” At that moment, while he was still speaking, the cock crowed. 61 The Lord turned and looked at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the cock crows today, you will deny me three times.” 62 And he went out and wept bitterly. The story involves the test of Peter. For Luke, all three denials occur in the courtyard of the High Priest. Peter’s denial of Jesus is his darkest moment as a disciple. Part of what makes Peter’s denials so poignant is his staunch vow to stand beside Jesus even if all the others fail him. The failure of three men in the Garden of Gethsemane, Peter, James, and John, foreshadows the threefold nature of Peter’s approaching denial. Unable to understand Jesus’ agony or assuage his fears, Peter, James, and John simply succumb to post-meal, long-day exhaustion. We need to note the woeful difference between the following Peter does now, compared to his initial, enthusiastic response to follow in Mark 1:18. Above Peter, in the rooms of the high priest, Jesus is on trial for his life. Jesus’ accusers disintegrate into a vengeful, riotous mob. As a servant of the high priest, then, it is quite likely that this woman had seen Peter and the other disciples with Jesus on several occasions. Peter’s third and final denial is the most damning. To invoke a curse on himself meant Peter invites destruction upon himself if his statement is not true. Thus, in this third denial, Peter does not just intentionally offend Jesus; he intentionally offends God. The approach of dawn, though for Peter the night’s end does not mean daybreak. It means heartbreak. Peter’s own Gethsemane occurs at the edge of the high priest’s courtyard in the chilly morning light. Moreover, he wept.
Some denial from the man Jesus once called "The Rock." Surely, Jesus meant that nickname as a joke. We love Peter for that because many times our brash declarations of faith are also a joke.
Some polls suggest our greatest fear is the fear of failure, then the fear of loneliness, and only then is death listed. We are so afraid to fail that we retreat and do nothing. We have had our own failure and denial, our own courtyard experience. There is an encouragement here. The disciples failed. The leader of disciples failed miserably. If people like that fail, there is comfort to us. Jesus renewed his fellowship with them. In our darkest spiritual moment, Jesus is willing to renew our fellowship with him.
Really, this story is as old as the Garden of Eden. Someone asked one preacher the geographical question of where the Garden of Eden was. He responded, "215 South Elm Street in Knoxville." The person thought he was joking, but he really was not. He said it was there that he first stole a quarter out of his mother's purse and went down to the store and bought some candy and ate it, and then was so ashamed that he came back home and hid in the closet. It was there that mom found him and asked, "Why are you hiding? What have you done?" He then challenged his listeners to locate our own Eden. What happened to Adam and Eve is the story of us all.
The story of Adam and Eve certainly became alive again for Peter on that dark, chilly night, as he comforted himself and denied Jesus. Our experience of life confronts us with our own dark side. That time when we betrayed our highest ideals and discovered that there was a shadow side within us. Has that rooster crowed for you and for me? Have we experienced our own darkness? Alternatively, are we still making excuses?
The impact of the story of the denial by Peter had on the early church suggests their effectiveness. They capture the imagination. For example, they may have been especially useful for Christian exhortation after Peter died a martyr’s death in the mid-60s, thus eventually giving witness to taking up the cross to follow Jesus. Yet inevitably, during the persecution, many Christians were not that brave, and both I Clem 5 and Tacitus suggest that in the persecution by Nero in which Peter died some Christians denounced others to the Romans. Was all hope lost for those who failed and denied Christ? A Peter who had once denied and later borne witness could constitute an encouragement that repentance and a second chance were possible. For that reason, it may have been important to underline the seriousness of what Peter had done. Before his arrest Jesus had warned his disciples, “Keep on praying lest you enter into trial” precisely because they were not sufficiently strong.
On New Year's Day, 1929, Georgia Tech played UCLA in the Rose Bowl. In that game, a man named Roy Riggles recovered a fumble for California. Somehow, Riggles became confused and ran 65 yards in the wrong direction. One of his teammates, Benny Lom, outdistanced him and tackled him before he scored for the opposing team. When California attempted to punt, Tech blocked the kick, which was the ultimate margin of victory. All of this happened in the first half. When they went to locker room, everyone wondered what the coach would say. Riggles put a towel around his head and cried. The coach said nothing until three minutes before half time was over. "Men, the same team that played the first half, will start the second." Everyone got up to play, except Riggles. He declared he could not go back to the field. He had ruined the coach and the university and himself. He could not face the crowd. The coach said, "Roy, get up and go on back. The game is only half over." Though Riggles went on to play a great second half, the team lost. What we need is someone to tell us that when we make a mistake, the game is only half over.[24]
All the disciples abandoned Jesus. Two disciples betrayed him. Judas boldly went to the religious leaders, threw the money down, while Peter went out and wept silently. With Judas, the act was premeditated, calculated, even paid for. Peter's was a cowardly, spontaneous burst of emotion that profited him nothing. Judas was overcome with guilt and envisioned a Jesus who was wrathful, judgmental who would declare him to be cursed since he betrayed an innocent person. Judas blocked out Jesus' forgiving nature. He cut himself off from the healing capabilities of God's grace and, in agonizing fit of self-judgment, hanged himself. Peter must have heard himself say he would be willing to die with Jesus. He replayed the denials. Yet, he also could remember the words of Jesus that on Peter Jesus would build the church. He received a new name. Whatever Peter had just done, he Jesus had assured him of a future. Judas never bothered to check the back door of grace.
22:63-65, unique to Luke, is a story about the mockery of Jesus by the soldiers. 63 Now the men who were holding Jesus began to mock him and beat him; 64 they also blindfolded him and kept asking him, “Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?” 65 They kept heaping many other insults on him. Peter has disowned Jesus. Now, his captors ridicule him.
22:66-71, based on Mark, is a story about Jesus before the Sanhedrin. 66 When day came, the assembly of the elders of the people, both chief priests and scribes, gathered together, and they brought him to their council. 67 They said, “If you are the Messiah, tell us.” He replied, “If I tell you, you will not believe; 68 and if I question you, you will not answer. 69 But from now on the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the power of God.” 70 All of them asked, “Are you, then, the Son of God?” He said to them, “You say that I am.” 71 Then they said, “What further testimony do we need? We have heard it ourselves from his own lips!” To the question of whether Jesus is the Messiah, the response by Jesus is evasive. The questions addressed to Jesus are those of divine sonship and Messiah. Luke believed Jesus was the Messiah, the Son of God, and the Son of Man, who was about to ascent to the right of the Father. The remarkable thing about the gospel narratives is that their authors do not make Jesus speak more directly and explicitly about the things they themselves believe. The focus of the questions is the relation of Jesus to the Father, and thus are Christological questions. The surprise is the absence of political motivation for the trial.
Religious leaders who kill in the name of God is not new. It has been going on, most likely, from the beginning of human history. In this case, blasphemy is the accusation. I am reminded of a satirical piece in the Onion after 9/11/2001 that included stories titled, “Terrorists surprised to find selves in hell.” Another title was, “We expected eternal paradise for this” and “God angrily clarifies ‘don’t kill’ rule.” "Somehow, people keep coming up with the idea that I want them to kill their neighbor," God tells the Onion during a press conference near the World Trade Center. "Well, I don't. And to be honest, I'm really getting sick and tired of it." The story ends with an angry message from God: "How many times do I have to say it? Don't kill each other anymore -- ever!" Then, "witnesses" say, "God's shoulders began to shake, and he wept."[25]
The passage raises the question of the Messiah. To the sparsity of the fewer than thirty references in three hundred years, we need to add the fact that although Josephus describes all sorts of historical figures, such as prophets, would-be kings, priests, agitators, in the first century, he never calls one of them a Messiah. If we take at face value later rabbinic references, they tell us that Rabbi Aquiba hailed Simon ben Kosiba as the Messiah in 130 AD, but before him in these centuries there seems to be no identifiable Jew hailed a kingly Messiah other than Jesus of Nazareth. There was not a single national expectation of the Messiah.
We also find the title “Son of Man.” In apocalyptic Jewish circles, whose voice we find echoed in the non-canonical literature of the second and first centuries BC and first century AD, there may have developed a strong image of a heavenly Son of Man through reflection on Daniel 7:37. We cannot widely attest to the title outside those circles and hence leaving relatively sparse traces, but an image that could well have appealed to Jesus and his early Christian followers because of their own strong apocalyptic bent. In apocalyptic Jewish circles of the first century AD the portrayal in Daniel 7 had given rise to the picture of a messianic human figure of heavenly preexistent origin who is glorified by Go and made a judge. Vermes points to the targumic evidence that rabbis used “son of man” as a circumlocution for “I”. The position of Bultmann, Hahn, Todt, and Fuller, namely, that Jesus did use the title of a future figure who would come to judge but that this figure was not Jesus himself, has lost much of its following. Granted Jesus’ conception of the role he himself was playing in making present the rule of God, his anticipation of another unidentified human-like figure to conclude the work seems unlikely.
23:1-5, based on Mark, is a story about Jesus before Pilate. Jesus becomes a victim, in the same sense in which all of us are victims. People reject him. He receives an unfair trial. Events develop beyond his ability to control. Every human being has felt the pain of suffering at the hands of others. Yet, in his suffering, Jesus remained loyal to God. Victor Frankel famously wrote that human beings could survive the worst of conditions if they know the meaning contained in one’s life. One who has a why to live for can bear almost any how one must endure. The story of the last hours of the life of Jesus shows us that Jesus remained focused on the “why” of his life. Then the assembly rose as a body and brought Jesus before Pilate.2 They began to accuse him, saying, “We found this man perverting our nation, forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the Messiah, a king.” 3 Then Pilate asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” He answered, “You say so.” 4 Then Pilate said to the chief priests and the crowds, “I find no basis for an accusation against this man.” 5 But they were insistent and said, “He stirs up the people by teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee where he began even to this place.” The charge that Jesus wanted the title of king has a slim basis. Luke prepares the way a bit with the concern that he told people not to pay taxes and by calling himself a king, thereby subverting the nation. However, in the eyes of Rome, he is innocent, a similar position in which Luke finds himself.
23:6-12, unique to Luke, is a story about Jesus before Herod. 6 When Pilate heard this, he asked whether the man was a Galilean. 7 And when he learned that he was under Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent him off to Herod, who was himself in Jerusalem at that time. 8 When Herod saw Jesus, he was very glad, for he had been wanting to see him for a long time, because he had heard about him and was hoping to see him perform some sign. 9 He questioned him at some length, but Jesus gave him no answer. 10 The chief priests and the scribes stood by, vehemently accusing him.11 Even Herod with his soldiers treated him with contempt and mocked him; then he put an elegant robe on him, and sent him back to Pilate. 12 That same day Herod and Pilate became friends with each other; before this they had been enemies. The humiliation of Jesus reconciles Pilate and Herod, who had been enemies. Political leaders do not understand.
23:13-25, mostly based on Mark, although verses 13-16 are unique to Luke, is a story about Jesus sentenced to die by Pilate. 13 Pilate then called together the chief priests, the leaders, and the people,14 and said to them, “You brought me this man as one who was perverting the people; and here I have examined him in your presence and have not found this man guilty of any of your charges against him. 15 Neither has Herod, for he sent him back to us. Indeed, he has done nothing to deserve death. 16 I will therefore have him flogged and release him.” 18 Then they all shouted out together, “Away with this fellow! Release Barabbas for us!” 19 (This was a man who had been put in prison for an insurrection that had taken place in the city, and for murder.) 20 Pilate, wanting to release Jesus, addressed them again; 21 but they kept shouting, “Crucify, crucify him!” 22 A third time he said to them, “Why, what evil has he done? I have found in him no ground for the sentence of death; I will therefore have him flogged and then release him.” 23 But they kept urgently demanding with loud shouts that he should be crucified; and their voices prevailed. 24 So Pilate gave his verdict that their demand should be granted.25 He released the man they asked for, the one who had been put in prison for insurrection and murder, and he handed Jesus over as they wished. Pilate understands the return of Jesus from Herod as confirmation of the innocence of Jesus of the charges. The beating ordered by Pilate does not make much sense, although it may be a warning to Jesus not to bother the authorities in the future. When Pilate finally delivers his sentence, he comes across as a weak, cowardly man.
The authorities arrested the “son of Abba,” during a riot in Jerusalem. Pilate spared his life. Pilate may have extended clemency to Barabbas because there was a set custom of releasing a prisoner during Passover. This release struck Christians as ironic: The same legal issue was involved, sedition against the authority of the emperor. Although they knew Jesus was innocent, Pilate found him guilty, while he let Barabbas go free. Josephus, in Antiquities 20:208-09, 215, has such an incident of release of a prisoner, as does the Mishnah in Pesahim 8:6a. The either/or choice is clear. Rather than focusing on the suffering Jesus endured, the focus shifts to the incomprehensible choice made by the blind people of the covenant.
Jesus was falsely accused of fake capital crimes that resulted in a very real, awful, capital crime committed against him, a crime that changed the world — forever. When people withhold testimony, when others give false testimony, and when no one brings corroborating evidence, authorities have committed a crime. This was no miscarriage of justice. This was a crime. Yet, this crime is precisely what God used to continuing bringing the rule of God into the world through the witness of those who continued to live in fellowship with Jesus.
23:26-32, a combination of Mark and material unique to Luke, is a pronouncement story that takes place on the road to the cross. 26 As they led him away, they seized a man, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming from the country, and they laid the cross on him, and made him carry it behind Jesus. 27 A great number of the people followed him, and among them were women who were beating their breasts and wailing for him. Luke adds that the women lament what has happened to Jesus. 28 But Jesus turned to them and said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. 29 For the days are surely coming when they will say, in the words that have apocalyptic overtones from Hosea 10:8, ‘Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed.’ 30 Then they will begin to say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us’; and to the hills, ‘Cover us.’ This prophetic oracle has similar apocalyptic overtones as we find in Mark 13. Then, in an enigmatic aphorism, Jesus concluded, 31 For if they do this when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?” It has something to do with the fall of Jerusalem. The point of the whole saying is that the powers of evil that crucify Jesus now will affect the women and their offspring later. 32 Two others also, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with him. Mark simply tells us about Simon carrying the cross and women who followed Jesus along the way.
Luke 23:33-38 is the story about the crucifixion. The source is Mark in verses 33, 34b, 38, and the source unique to Luke in verses 35a, 36-37, and 34a. Both sources provide the theological context of the crucifixion by using Scripture to interpret the crucifixion of Jesus. Luke, like the other gospel writers, is remarkably brief in his description of the logistics of the crucifixion. Instead, there is a focus on how the death of Jesus fulfills the Scriptures of Israel. Crucifixion was a common and shameful form of execution in the first century. It was an agonizing and extended death, compounded by the sneering, mocking and scoffing of onlookers. Because of this, the challenge facing the gospel writers was to make clear to their readers the distinctive significance of Jesus' crucifixion -- one that was, in no way, the death of a common criminal. Luke makes full use of the roles of the various characters in the story in order to accomplish this goal. In particular, note the structure of three mocking, repeated references to the Scriptures, selected Christological titles, the mysterious phenomena that accompany the death of Jesus (vv. 44-49), the ironic truths of the taunts hurled at Jesus, and Jesus' three pronouncements from the cross in 33-46.
Jesus died. It was a small event. Just another execution, a diversion for the people, entertainment for an afternoon. He died and nothing changed. It was a minute victory for Roman rulers. A one suspected revolutionary was dead. It was a small victory for the religious establishment. One who blasphemed the Temple is dead. Of course, it was a sizable tragedy for his followers. However, his death was barely a blip, quite forgettable, quite unremarkable, quite unexceptional. Certainly not what sociologists might describe as a generational defining moment. Of course, tragic deaths always leave scars that are profoundly personal. Sociologists will tell us that a defining moment or event can shape an entire generation. So what of Jesus' generation? When Jesus died, his generation was not defined. When Jesus died, except for some women at the foot of the cross, no one mourned. No one knew this death was exceptional. There was no press report. No news briefing. No shocked nation. Few took notice of another Jew's execution.
Jesus did change the course of history, that we now realize. But at the time, who knew? Who cared? The disciples did not know. They had fled and returned to their former occupations, hauling nets, collecting taxes, pounding nails, trying to forget, trying to blend in, trying to hide. Religious leaders did not know. Many rejoiced that an agitating rabble-rouser was eliminated. They were anxious to get on with Passover. The political leaders did not know. They just wanted to get rid of that troublemaker and keep peace in an unimportant Roman province. "Keep the peace" equaled "keep their jobs." The people did not know. They were thoroughly disillusioned. The soldiers did not know. They gambled for his clothes. The thief beside him did not know. He taunted Jesus as he hung dying on the cross.
Do we know? Do we understand choosing the cross can be for us the defining moment of our spiritual lives? Have we encountered Christ in a way that affirms that Jesus was not just a good man, not just someone who showed us how to love one another, but as the Savior who died on this day, Good Friday, in a specific time and place, died for the sins of the world?
We will have no deep understanding of Christianity without reflecting upon the Cross. Yet, the cross and resurrection have a close bond in the gospel accounts. It seems consistent with the thought that one builds real hope on the far side of despair.[26] Such joining of them is chronological in that occur close in time. Yet, the joining is also theological. Paul will not refer to death, cross, death on the cross, or word of the cross without implying resurrection. He will refer to resurrection, glory, or splendor of the Father in a way that includes the death in shame that precedes it.[27]Throughout the story of the trial and crucifixion, we see humanity at its worst. Yet, from the standpoint of the word of resurrection, we see the excellence, glory, and beauty of the act of God. From the standpoint of resurrection, the cross removes any impediments that would hinder us from having anything but the enjoyment of such self-giving love now and forever. Our understanding of the atonement needs to prepare us to be ready for that intimacy.[28] From the standpoint of resurrection, the cross is a splendid theater of the incomparable goodness of God. The glory of God shines forth from the cross. Of course, if we have to eyes to see, we will see the glory of God in all things God has made. Yet, it shines brightly in the cross, at least from the standpoint of resurrection. We see the sin of humanity, but we also see God blotting out that sin and redeeming humanity.[29]
The Christian doctrine of sin arises out of reflection upon what the cross says about us. It frees us from delusion about our perfectible. We are still active in improving self and world, but we acknowledge that our expectations should be modest. In fact, modesty in expectations is a sign that we have awakened from the dream of perfection. We believe in redemption, but we do not believe in flawlessness. Thus, the point of this teaching is not total depravity, basic wickedness of humanity, or an incapacity for goodness in humanity. Rather, it teaches us that sin and evil are unnatural, a disorder, and a perversion. We are creations of a good God. What has perverted itself can also experience the miracle of redemption.[30]
Sin shows itself in the fact that we are self-deceiving people who find it difficult to tell the truth about ourselves. In the cross, we see a mirror of who we are. On this day, God tells us the truth about ourselves, the whole truth. We deceive others God sent God’s only Son to us, to embrace us, to show us the way, and we responded with, “Crucify him!” Today is a day for honesty, honesty made possible through the crucified one who says, even from the cross, “I love you still.” We believe in our basic goodness. We do the best we can. We present a well-polished face to others. Such efforts to deceive others are a reflection of what we have deluded ourselves into thinking we are.[31] Our sin is incurable because we do not view ourselves as sinners.[32] Our inclination is toward hypocrisy, which is an empty image of righteousness. We will not have clear knowledge of self until we see the meaning of the cross.[33] We learn something else as we ponder the cross. We come upon a great irony of self-deception. Self-deception often arises out of our desire to be good and moral people. People who take their moral commitments seriously are the ones who are most prone to deceive themselves about their moral commitments.
In the movie Schindler's List, I thought that the most horrifying episode was the scene toward the beginning of the movie when they were bringing Polish Jews into the concentration camp. They lined people up, and made them stand in rows before clerical, accountant people who, with typewriters before them, registered the prisoners. It was so horrifying because it was so ordinary. They were just doing their jobs, just typing in information on government forms. They just registered people for their certain deaths in the camp. It was one thing to see evil done by the soldiers, the guards at the camp. However, it was quite another thing to see evil done by ordinary, everyday people sitting before typewriters.
We rightly ponder the goodness and perversity of humanity. Robert Jay Lifton suggests an answer with the concept of doubling - that is, a division of the self into two functioning wholes, each of which acts as an entire self. Although there are some similarities between doubling and multiple personality disorder, doubling is a milder psychological condition that permits an otherwise well-integrated person with a conscience to engage in heinous criminal activity. It permits an individual to engage in evil with- out violating his or her conscience.
Lifton developed the concept of doubling in connection with a study of the doctors who worked for Himmler's SS during the Second World War. These physicians engaged in medical experiments sponsored by the Nazis for ideological and military purposes. Among their other responsibilities, these doctors also had to make determinations about which of the Jewish prisoners arriving at the death camps would be assigned to work programs and which would be consigned to the gas chambers. The doctors supervised the mass executions, and in some cases personally executed individuals with lethal injections. What began as a racial eugenics program involving sterilization procedures in 1933 progressed to a program of euthanasia in 1939 and eventually became the "Final Solution" for the racial and political undesirable. The doctors conveniently erased the border between healing and killing. Lifton calls it the "healing-killing paradox."
One important strategy that these medical people employed to carry on with their tortures was "technicizing" - that is, translating all their activities into technical tasks that could be measured by ordinary standards of efficiency. One SS doctor told Lifton, "Ethics was not a word used in Auschwitz. Doctors and others spoke only about how to do things most efficiently, about what worked best." They managed to adopt this strategy not by eliminating their consciences as such but rather by transferring them to the state. They subjected their consciences to Auschwitz criteria for what is good: duty to the fatherland, loyalty to their professional colleagues, improvement of living conditions at the death camps, and efficiency of operations. They subordinated the deaths of millions of innocent people to these ends, thereby freeing the consciences of their original selves.
Elsewhere in their lives, these medical people were living family members, responsible in their community, supportive of culture, appreciative of music and opera. They were the pillars of society, the ostensible shepherd of our civilization.[34]
33 When they came to the place that is called The Skull, [Κρανίον] they crucified Jesus. Mark provides no details regarding the size or shape of the cross or the manner in which the Romans fastened Jesus to it. They crucified him there with the criminals as in Isaiah 53:12, one on his right and one on his left. Mark says nothing of the charges against the two criminals crucified with Jesus. [[ 34 Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”]] Here is the first pronouncement of Jesus from the cross. Scholars have debated the authenticity of Jesus' prayer from the cross in verse 34a with inconclusive results. Some of the earliest and most geographically diverse manuscripts omit it. Yet, other ancient authorities include it. The NRSV compromises by enclosing the sentence in double brackets. The NIV provides a footnote expressing the prayer's doubtful heritage. Although it is unclear whether Jesus is praying for the Romans, the Jewish leaders or both, it is fair to say that the prayer is consistent with both Luke's characterization of Jesus and Luke's style. Jesus prays repeatedly to God the "Father" in Luke, and his emphasis on forgiveness would make it likely that Jesus would ask for forgiveness for all who were involved in his death. In what way did they not know what they were doing? They thought they were executing a criminal, a blasphemer, a rebel. They did not know he was Messiah, the Chosen, and King of the Jews. Theologically, they represent us all. In fact, in the narrative of Luke, the truth is on their lips, but not in their hearts. Robert C. Tannehill says this prayer and the final one in verse 46 ("Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.") serve to "bracket" the Crucifixion. Both prayers address God as "Father." In one, Jesus addresses the horizontal dimension of life - his opponents. In the other, Jesus addresses the vertical dimension of human existence - his relationship with God.
What an amazing accomplishment this is, being able to forgive the people who have unjustly accused you, mocked you, treated you with contempt, tortured you and crucified you. Such forgiveness knows that one best overcomes evil by good. People who believe that God is the ultimate judge of each of us, the God who knows what is in each of our hearts, can show compassion and forgiveness. When Jesus forgave his tormentors, he released them from their sins and turned them over to God. We can do the same with the people who hurt us. After World War II, Louie Zamperini, whose life became last year's movie Unbroken, gave a similar forgiveness. In a letter to the prison guard who tortured him, the Olympic runner-turned-war-hero wrote, "The postwar nightmares caused my life to crumble, but thanks to a confrontation with God … I committed my life to Christ. Love replaced the hate I had for you. Christ said, 'Forgive your enemies, and pray for them.' "
"Eleni" is a movie of 1986. One reviewer describes it in a way that calls to mind this idea of how life tests good people. When the main character of the movie was just a boy in Italy, his mother found a way to have escape. She clutches her seven-year-old boy and whispers, "My heart, my blood." Now, as a grown man with a family of his own, he set out on a quest. You see, the Nazis had executed his mother, and he wanted to find out who had done this deed. In his quest, he discovers the circumstances surrounding her death. His mother told one woman, "I thank God I had the joy of being a mother." Just before her execution, she cries out, "My children!" In the man's anger and pain, he finds the killer of his mother. He points a gun at the man. Will this good man give in at the test? Those final words from his mother proved to be his salvation, as they reminded him of his own family that he had neglected. He then goes back to his family and embraces his own children, and he says, "My children."
In addition, they cast lots to divide his clothing [Psalm 22:18]. 35 And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him [Psalm 22:7], saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God [Christological title], his chosen one!” Two groups of mockers here, the public rabble and their leaders. They challenge Jesus to do for himself what he maintains he could do for them. They do not think he can actually save himself. The ironic truth of the taunts is that those who mock him declare his messianic identity and the saving significance of his death. 36 The soldiers also mocked him [Psalm 69:7ff, referring to a third group who mocked Jesus. The soldiers were coming up and offering him sour wine [Psalm 69:21b], 37 and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews [Christological title], save yourself!” 38 There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.” [Christological title] The soldiers also challenge Jesus to do for himself what he maintains he could do for them. They also do not think he can save himself. The ironic truth of the taunts is that those who mock him declare him King.
We can consider the punishment of crucifixion. The practice began with the Persians, Hellenistic world, and Carthaginians. With Rome, it was primarily a punishment applied to the lower classes, slaves, and foreigners. As Roman armies began to interfere in Judea, crucifixion of Jews became a matter of policy, e.g., the governor of Syria crucified 2000 Jews in 4 BC. In the first century, Jesus is the first Jew whom we know to have received the Roman punishment of crucifixion. Otherwise, Josephus records no crucifixions of Jews during the first part of the Roman prefecture in Judea, AD 6-40, though there are many in 44-60. The cross may have been 7 feet high. It is likely that they crucified him with nails through the wrist area and in the feet. Fourth, we can consider the division of clothes. The evidence favors complete nudity on the cross. The Romans designed crucifixion to be a public event producing a chastening effect on observers, and so we can be certain that there were people around the cross of Jesus. The most certain to have been present are the soldiers, as well as passersby, and members of the Sanhedrin who had promoted Jesus’ death
Note the three distinct groups of mockers: the public rabble including the leaders, the Roman soldiers and one of the criminals. Each party challenges Jesus to do for himself what he has maintained all along that he could do for them. The provocateurs had no faith that Jesus could indeed save himself; their comments are gratuitous barbs tossed at Jesus in the form of mockery (v. 36), sneers (v. 35) and insults (v. 39). The ironic truth of these taunts is that those who mock him declare his messianic identity and the saving significance of his death -- "King of the Jews," "the Messiah," "Save yourself and us!" However, they do not grasp the truth they speak.
Crucifixion was a common and shameful form of execution in the first century. It was an agonizing and extended death, compounded by the sneering, mocking, and scoffing of onlookers. Because of this, the challenge facing the gospel writers was to make clear to their readers the distinctive significance of Jesus' crucifixion -- one that was, in no way, the death of a common criminal. Luke makes full use of the roles of the various characters in the story to accomplish this goal. In particular, note the structure of three mockings (vv. 35, 36-37, 39), repeated references to the Scriptures (vv. 34, 36), selected Christological titles (vv. 35, 37, 38, 39), the mysterious phenomena that accompany the death of Jesus (vv. 44-49), the ironic truths of the taunts hurled at Jesus (vv. 35, 37, 39) and Jesus' three pronouncements from the cross (vv. 34, 43, 46),
Robert C. Tannehill says this prayer and the final one in verse 46 ("Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.") serve to "bracket" the Crucifixion. Both prayers address God as "Father." In one, Jesus addresses the horizontal dimension of life - his opponents. In the other, Jesus addresses the vertical dimension of human existence - his relationship with God.
Luke 23:39-43 is a pronouncement story concerning the two criminals. The source is material unique to Luke. This passage sums up the theology of Luke concerning the cross. 39 One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him, for Luke, a fourth source of mocking Jesus, and saying, “Are you not the Messiah? [Christological title] Save yourself and us!” He challenges Jesus to do for himself what he maintains he could do for them. He does not think Jesus can save himself. The ironic truth of the taunt is that the one who mocks him declares his messianic identity and the saving significance of his death. With his entire life, he has done precisely what scorn onlookers heaped on him for: he has trusted in God, thus keeping the first commandment. That he does so even more fully in his death those who mock him do not understand. They refuse to trust in God; therefore, they demand proof from God, and demand to have it now, that is, when they find it necessary. Therefore, they are blind to the fact that in this very place and at this very moment, when they think God is absent, he is present. Because of the supposed arrogance of making himself equal to God, Jewish authorities wanted him put to death. Death exposed his finitude as distinct from his alleged equality with God. It was a punishment for the sinner and his delusion of being the equal to God. It showed his finitude. The light of his resurrection revealed that he had not deserved the death of a sinner. This means that in truth he suffered in our place as sinners. He suffered a fate he did not deserve, even while those who killed him deserved such a death.[35] 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” The criminal proclaims the innocence of Jesus. Even a criminal recognizes the saving effect of the death of Jesus. In one sense, the repentant criminal on the cross delivers the first Christian sermon. The outcast criminal understands things that neither the family of Jesus nor the disciples had understood. While everyone else abandoned Jesus, the criminal gives witness. 42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” He believes Jesus is the Messiah. His request echoes the cries of those in need and those dying in ages past. In Genesis 40:14, Joseph asks the cupbearer to think of him when it goes well with him and show Joseph kindness by mentioning him to Pharaoh. In I Samuel 1:11, Hannah vowed that if the Lord would remember her in her affliction of being childless, she would dedicate her son to the Lord. In Nehemiah 5:19, Nehemiah as God to remember him because of all the good he has done. Job 14:13 has Job asking the Lord to remember him in accord with the lovingkindness of the Lord when he is in Sheol. Psalm 25:7 asks the Lord to remember him in accord with the lovingkindness and goodness of the Lord. Jeremiah 15:15 has Jeremiah asking the Lord to remember him. 43 He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me. No, this is not “fair.” Jesus does not treat the thief fairly. This story is a reminder to us all that salvation is by grace. This thief has done nothing to inherit the promise of Jesus here. You can I can do nothing to earn this promise. Pause and consider the power of these words. This is not only an offer of forgiveness, but also of friendship. Thus, at the precise moment Jesus is saving the entire world, he takes the time to save the one person. Jesus never sacrificed the one for the many, or the many for the one. He always kept the One and the Many together in his life ... and death. Thus, the criminal will be with Jesus in Paradise. The word occurs only here in the gospels. Here is the second pronouncement of Jesus from the cross. Jesus' conversation with the penitent thief will become one of the distinctive features of Luke's crucifixion story. Verses 28-30, in which Jesus tells his disciples that his Father appointed a kingdom for him and he will reign, probably inspire verse 43. For some scholars, the saying of Jesus appears out of character for Jesus to have said it.
23:44-49 has its basis in Mark and is a story about the death of Jesus. 44 It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, 45 while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. The rending of the veil in the temple suggests that he makes intimate access to God possible. 46 Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Having said this, he breathed his last. 47 When the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God and said, “Certainly this man was innocent.” 48 And when all the crowds who had gathered there for this spectacle saw what had taken place, they returned home, beating their breasts. 49 But all his acquaintances, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things. Jesus serenely accepts death. In Luke 9:44, Jesus says the Son of Man will be handed over to people. Now, he is in the hands of the Father. The centurion is the last to declare Jesus' innocence. Of the Gospels, only Luke says that the people regretted what happened. What Jesus accomplished by his death is the salvation of humanity.
What does it mean that Jesus died for us? You know the story. Religious people abandoned him. Civil authorities abandoned him. The disciples abandoned him. God abandoned him, even while he yet believed in God. Why? There is a story of an old man in India. He sat down in the shade of an ancient banyan tree. Its roots stretched far into the swamp. It was not long until he noticed a commotion where the roots entered the water. Concentrating his attention, he saw that a scorpion had entangled itself helplessly in the roots. He reached down to set the scorpion free. Nevertheless, each time he touched the scorpion, it would lash his hand with its tail, stinging him painfully. Finally, his hand was so swollen he could no longer close his fingers, so he withdrew to the shade of the tree to wait for the swelling to go down. When he sat down, a young man was standing above him, laughing at him. "You're a fool," said the young man, "wasting your time trying to help a scorpion that can only do you harm." The old man replied, "Simply because it is in the nature of the scorpion to sting, should I give up my nature, which is to save?" The cross says the nature of God is to save.
As to the physical reasons for the death of Jesus, no evidence exists that the evangelists personally knew anything about that matter. One could carry out such discussion of it simply by employing the best of medical knowledge to determine how any crucified person is likely to have died. The recent study by Zugibe, a medical examiner and pathologist, comes close to that goal. He has challenged the asphyxia theory of LeBec, Barbet, and others by contending that the experiments on which they drew consisted of men hung with their hands almost directly over their heads. He has conducted experiments with volunteers whose arms he spread out in simulated crucifixion at an angle of 60 or 70 degrees to the trunk of the body, and no asphyxia resulted. He contends that shock brought on by dehydration and loss of blood is the only plausible medical explanation for the death of the crucified Jesus. Obviously, the various medical commentators have reached no certitude; and while experiments in actual crucifixion may be the only way to come to higher probability, which we trust that we have now safely confined to the past.
This passage about the crucifixion provides a theological context for understanding what the crucifixion of Jesus means by its reference to Jewish scripture and its use of Christological titles. Crucifixion was a common and shameful form of execution in the first century. It was an agonizing and extended death, compounded by the sneering, mocking, and scoffing of onlookers. In this story, we find a familiar prayer of Jesus from the cross. In it, he addresses God as Father, as he did in the Lord’s Prayer, this time asking God to forgive those who crucified and mocked him, for they do not know what they were doing. He also asks his Father to forgive the Romans and Jews who collaborated in this crucifixion. In what way did they not know what they were doing? They thought they were executing a criminal, a blasphemer, a rebel. They did not know he was Messiah, the Chosen, and King of the Jews. Theologically, they represent us all. In fact, in the narrative of Luke, the truth is on their lips, but not in their hearts. His last words from the cross are for his Father to receive his spirit. If you think about, these two prayers address his relationship with his opponents, for whom he wanted divine forgiveness, and his relationship with God, with whom he had abiding fellowship. His opponents say he is the Messiah, the chosen one, and King of the Jews. They do not believe it, of course, but the words are true. One of the criminals crucified with Jesus delivers the first Christian message that he was innocent. He also wants Jesus to remember him as he comes into his kingdom. The response of Jesus is that this criminal will be with him. No, this is not “fair.” Jesus does not treat the thief fairly. This story is a reminder to us all that salvation is by grace. This thief has done nothing to inherit the promise of Jesus here. You can I can do nothing to earn this promise. Let us pause and consider this. Yes, he will receive forgiveness. Jesus also extends to this criminal friendship and fellowship in Paradise.
The people who crucified Jesus did not know what they were doing. Although they attempted to anger him, Jesus responded with forgiveness. Although they mocked him with a sign that said, "King of the Jews," the sign spoke the truth. He was the promised “coming king” of the Jewish people. Yet, he was in such a way that he was also the king of the people of God, whether Jew or Gentile. He was the promised Messiah. Although they challenged him to save himself, he saved the criminal next to him.
Do you get the shudders as you read of the crucifixion of Jesus? Do shivers cascade down your spine as you read how the friends of Jesus betrayed him, abandoned him, and others rejected, mocked, and abused him? They treated him like a criminal. The Messiah ... crucified.
Amid one of the most horrifying experiences anyone can have, much less the Son of God, Jesus keeps his focus on the main thing: God is still God; God is in control; God expects obedience. Jesus never lost his head. Jesus never lost his heart. It was only because Jesus kept the main thing the main thing that he could love his enemies - even on the cross; forgive those who put him there - even on the cross; reach out to someone in need - even on the cross. Jesus practices what he preaches - even on the cross. He does what he has taught his disciples to do - even on the cross. Jesus prays for his abusers - even on the cross. Jesus prays even for his betrayers - even on the cross. Jesus refuses to do evil that good may come of it - even on an evil cross. Jesus kept the main thing the main thing - even on the cross. The people mocked him for not "saving himself." However, Jesus did not come to save himself. Jesus came to save others.
At this point in the story of Jesus, we need to ponder the silence of the Father in the suffering of the Son. The nature of divine action can be difficult to express. The problem arises in part because of the silence of God while creation and human history is so full of suffering. The silence of God in the presence of so much evil and suffering always makes the denial of the lordship of God over creation a possibility. The absurdity of suffering and wickedness provide material enough for atheism when it comes to the postulate of a loving and wise Creator. The primary reason for this is the silence of God in the presence of so much suffering. The debatable quality of the affirmation of the reality of God is something any theology must maintain throughout its presentation. Yet, human beings show a capacity for wanting to hear a divine word in the presence of so much suffering. Such a divine word would need to come in a unique revelatory moment in history. If we cannot locate a divine word in history, then we have to reckon with the divine silence over human life and history. The cross is a reminder that we may hear only silence.[36] The crucifixion alone writes a human “No” over the life of Jesus. Since he spoke of the nearness of God, the crucifixion offers a “No” from God. The silence of God is deafening in the crucifixion. In fact, a struggle all religions have is what they do with the silence of the divine while humanity suffers. Jesus is one more human being who suffers profoundly while hearing the silence of God. The silence of God as Jesus suffers upon the cross is deafening. It brings the deity of the Father and the power of the life-giving Spirit into question. The silence of the Father at this moment in the life of Jesus is a parable of the silence of the Father to all human suffering. In many ways, suffering reminds us that we are little more than small, trembling, and weak animals that decay and die. For me as a follower of Jesus, the whole story of Jesus, which includes resurrection and the gift of the Spirit, shows us that God brings good out of evil. If God has a reality that means anything, God must be able to do that. The various interpretations of the cross are all attempts to show how God brings good out of evil. They have their basis in resurrection. Yet, we must go there too rapidly. We need to face the painful reality that the cross of Jesus discloses. If we carefully consider the cross of Jesus of Nazareth in its historical reality, we see a major objection to the reality of God. One who dedicated his life to his heavenly Father faces opposition, trial, torture, and a cruel end of his life. Given the way Jesus lived his life, the cruelest aspect of the end of his life was the silence of God. God appears to have forsaken him in that moment. The cross invites us to ponder a painful reality. Death could bring only silence, emptiness, nothingness, and loss.
23:50-56 is a story about the burial of Jesus. It has its basis in Mark. 50 Now there was a good and righteous man named Joseph, who, though a member of the council, 51 had not agreed to their plan and action. He came from the Jewish town of Arimathea, and he was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God. 52 This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus.53 Then he took it down, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and laid it in a rock-hewn tomb where no one had ever been laid. Luke shows Joseph to be a devout Jew. The Romans normally placed criminals in a common grave. Here, Jesus receives a respectable burial.
54 It was the day of Preparation, and the Sabbath was beginning. 55 The women who had come with him from Galilee followed, and they saw the tomb and how his body was laid. 56 Then they returned, and prepared spices and ointments.
If there were ever any doubt that God can make use of anything and any situation to accomplish God's intentions for the world, we can simply remember this story. The story of Jesus is not over. God is not silent forever. However, God was silent here, in these hours. We need to let that sink into our experience and reflection.
On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment.
[1] Instead of the temple, the rest of the narrative takes place in various parts of the city. It may be that the passion narrative was the first part of the gospel tradition to attain the status of a connected narrative. Fitzmyer offers his evidence for a passion narrative before Mark. First, I Cor 1: 1 8, in 56 AD, uses the phrase "word of the cross." Second, he notes Paul's references to the Last Supper and betrayal in I Cor 11:23-25, suffering in Phil 3:10, cross in Phil 2:8, crucifixion in Gal 2:20, 3: 1, l Cor 1:23, II Cor 13:1 1, being on a tree in Gal 3:13, death of Jesus in I Thess 5: 1 0, I Cor 11:26, 15:3, Rm 4:25, 5:8-10, 6:3, burial of Jesus in I Cor 15:3, Rm 6:4, who killed Jesus in I Thess 2:1415 and I Cor 2:8, and being nailed to the cross in Col 2:14. Third, the four gospels have a striking similarity not present elsewhere. Fourth, it seems to expand upon the kerygmatic formulation of I Cor 15:3-4. Fifth, the need for such a connected narrative would have shown itself early in the church's preaching, for how could the Messiah be crucified? Sixth, did a narrative exist previous to Mark? Many believe so, and some believe it was a shorter form beginning with the arrest. Fitzmyer believes Mark has formed the Passion Narrative into a unit from pieces of tradition, just as he did the rest of the Gospel.
Fitzymer discusses the specific nature of the passion narrative in Luke. The number of passages from L and Q makes one wonder if there was a different connected narrative besides Mark. Fitzmyer does not believe so. Jesus dies as a martyr as well as redeemer, an example of innocent suffering, but also facing Satanic forces.
[2] Inspired by Thompson, Derek. "On repeat: Why people watch movies and shows over and over." The Atlantic Monthly Website, theatlantic.com. September 10, 2014.
[3] Some scholars consider this story fiction, in that no one can verify whether the incident occurred.
[4] Mark has a reference to two of the disciples.
[5] Schnackenburg
[6] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 3, 208.
[7] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 3, 208.
[8] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 295.
[9] Mark and Matthew have no reference to a command from Jesus to the continuation of this act in remembrance of Jesus.
[10] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 418.
[11] Mark does not have “new.”
[12] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 433.
[13] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 465
[14] Barth, Church Dogmatics III.2 [47.1] 502.
[15] Barth, Church Dogmatics III.2 [45.1] 214.
[16] Barth, Church Dogmatics III.2 [47.1] 502.
[17] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 283-6.
[18] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 381.
[19] Mark 13:34 It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. 35 Therefore, keep awake-- for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, 36 or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. 37 And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake."
[20] Hebrews 5:7 In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. 8 Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered; 9 and having been made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him, 10 having been designated by God a high priest according to the order of Melchizedek.
[21] Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.3 [71.5] 632.
[22] Barth, Church Dogmatics II.2 [35.3] 439.
[23] The majority of scholarship attributes a factual basis to the denials. The dominant argument for this position is that Christians would scarcely have invented a story that brought disgrace on one of their most prominent leaders. A number of scholars deny or seriously doubt the historicity of Peter’s denying Jesus, including Bultmann, Klein, and Linneman. Sometimes they do this by challenging the main argument used to support factuality, namely, that Christians would not have invented a scene so unfavorable to Peter. If one accepts that Peter’s denials were a disgrace, could they not have been invented as anti-Petrine propaganda? The earliest form of a consecutive passion account presumably mentioned the betrayal of Jesus by Judas and the failure of the disciples. Included in the latter by way of example could have been a brief mention of Peter’s particular failure in denying that he was associated with Jesus when challenged by a woman servant at a fire in the aule of the high priest were Jesus had been taken. The separating out of this denial by Peter into a self-standing narrative would have come later as Peter’s role in Christianity became more visible. These last observations led us from a discussion of the historical value of the tradition underlying the stories of the denials to the more important issue of the impact of those tales on the Passion Narratives of the different Gospels.
[24] Haddon W. Robinson, "A Little Phrase for Losers," Christianity Today, October 26, 1992, 11).
[25] --Religion News Service, "Satirical paper's serious message," The Washington Post, October 6, 2001, B9.
[26] John Keats
[27] Gerard S. Sloyan.
[28] Dennis Kinlaw, Let's Start With Jesus. Thanks to Rev. Jeff Coleman, The Highlands UMC, Gainesville, Georgia, for passing this on to us.
[29] John Calvin, Commentary on John 13:31.
[30] – Walter Wink, “The Gladsome Doctrine of Sin,” The Living Pulpit, October–December 1999
[31] Reinhold Niebuhr, The Nature and Destiny of Man, Vol. 1, pp. 186–188
[32] – Augustine, The Confessions, Book 2
[33] John Calvin (Institutes of the Christian Religion, Book I, Chapter 2, pp. 37–38.)
[34] (Ted Peters, Sin: Radical Evil in Soul and Society [Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1989]. pp. 205-206.)
[35] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 374.
[36] (Rahner, Hearer of the Word: Laying the Foundation for a Philosophy of Religion 1994, 1941), Part III.
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