Going deeper with the Passion Narrative of Matthew
Matthew 26:14-27:66 is part of the Matthew version of the passion narrative that began in 26:1.
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.[1]
Our culture seems to value the new. Why do we spend so much time with stories we already know? Soren Kierkegaard authored 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 dissimilar 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 in 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 sidestep 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 even one 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.
In classic Roman and Greek literature, ordinary folk were almost invisible, unfit subjects for drama, ordinary people appearing in Greek tragedies only as baboons. However, the New Testament has a richer depiction of what it means to be a person. The story takes place entirely among everyday men and women of the common people; anything of the sort could be thought in antique terms only as farce or comedy. Yet why is it neither of these? Why does it arouse in us the most serious and most significant sympathy? Because it portrays something which neither the poets nor the historian of antiquity set out to portray: the birth of a spiritual movement in the depths of the common people. All this applies not only to Peter's denial but also to every other occurrence which is related in the New Testament. Every one of them is concerned with the same question, the same conflict with which every human being is basically confronted, and which therefore remains infinite and eternally pending.[2]
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 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 for reasons difficult to verify or understand, but it might include greed. He betrayed him in a personal way, arriving in the Garden with overwhelming force and identifying by embracing him and kissing him on the cheek.
Jesus was so isolated that his disciples argued over which of them were the greatest.
Jesus was so isolated that his closest associates deserted him through cowardice, especially Peter. We need to remember that it is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend (William Blake).
Yet each man kills the thing he loves
By each let this be heard
Some do it with a bitter look
Some with a flattering word
The coward does it with a kiss
The brave man with a sword![3]
The Roman Governor Pilate would betray his office by preferring political corrected of the crown to discharging the duty he had to dispense justice.
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 to get in the way of what is most important in life.
So, why do we betray Jesus? It may be for reasons displayed on this night. We may develop our unique reason. Is betrayal in our blood? The story of Holy Week is one upon which he need to give some time for meditation and reflection on how, while life will always bring its tests, we can remain faithful and true witnesses.
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 vital 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 coming rule 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."
Matthew 26:14-16 is the story of Judas agreeing to betray Jesus. The source is Mark 14.10—11; Lk 22.3—6). 14 Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests 15 and said, “What will you give me if I betray him to you?” Matthew adds that they paid him thirty pieces of silver, basing this on Exodus 21:28-30 and Zechariah 11:12.16 And from that moment he began to look for an opportunity to betray him. Some scholars consider this story fiction, in that no one can verify whether the incident occurred. As the story stands, the betrayal seems personal. He will arrive in the Garden with overwhelming force and he will identify Jesus to the soldiers with an embrace and kiss. The betrayal was stunning in its conception and diabolical in its execution.
Who are the most notorious traitors in history? It’s a long list, but we don’t need to look far beyond our own experiences to find one.
Philadelphia, July 4, 1776. The setting is Independence Hall where the Second Continental Congress is meeting. The Declaration of Independence is adopted, and in so doing, the 13 American colonies sever their political connections to Great Britain, an act that Britain considers the ultimate betrayal. To put it bluntly, it is treason.
Later, when the delegates got around to signing the Declaration, Benjamin Franklin realized the enormity of the situation. Putting aside his quill, he said to the assembly, “We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.” He didn’t hang, but very soon thereafter, a 21-year-old kid did. His name was Nathan Hale, and his last words reportedly were: “I regret that I have but one life to give for my country.” He was hanged by the British in New York City as a small crowd gathered to observe near the southern end of where Central Park stands today.
What is less well-known is that some colonists were executed by Washington or other officers of the Continental Army for being traitors — David Farnsworth, for example, who was caught producing counterfeit money, creating a threat to the economy. Or Moses Dunbar, a loyalist executed for attempting to recruit for the British Army.
Any discussion of “man’s inhumanity to man” would certainly include acts that led to violence and death. In Virgil’s circles or rings of hell, the villains include murderers, thieves and bullies motivated by every ignoble instinct in the demented hearts of evildoers.
The category that pops up in today’s lengthy text, however, is betrayal, and this leads to some thinking about infamous traitors and backstabbers. Many of these are political spies, and in the United States, this list includes Benedict Arnold, Aldrich Ames, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, Robert Hanssen and others.
In history, the betrayal of Julius Caesar by his friend Brutus is still shocking to students of history. Other infamous names emerge more recently, such as Alfred Redl, an Austrian military officer who, during World War I, sold sensitive information about the Austrian army to Czarist Russia. Or, Harold Cole, a British soldier who betrayed the French resistance and is considered one of the worst traitors of World War II.
Since the theme of betrayal is such a human one, it is not surprising that literature is replete with classic betrayers. One of the dirtiest double-crossers is Iago from Othello. In The Count of Monte Cristo, Fernand Mondego falsely accuses his best friend Edmond of treason before having him imprisoned for 14 years. He also steals Edmond’s fiancée, Mercédès, and marries her. Then, there’s Peter Pettigrew, a.k.a. Wormtail, of the Harry Potter books. In The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, Edmund, the youngest Pevensie brother, betrays his siblings and all of Narnia for a bag of Turkish Delight. And what was Fredo thinking when he betrayed his brother, Michael Corleone, almost getting him killed?
This litany of villains, backstabbers and betrayers could continue, ad infinitum, but to this short list, we add Judas, Peter and Pilate, the three that are mentioned in Matthew’s gospel, the text for Passion Sunday. What can we learn from these three characters?
Matthew displays exceptional care to develop the Passover/Passion connection, making deliverance a common theme that ties these events together. Matthew sees the passion events as the second phase of God’s deliverance plan. Jesus is being delivered up to the authorities. Matthew’s strong connection with the Passover makes the role of Judas more understandable. Without the hardened heart of the Pharaoh, there would never have been the solidifying of the Hebrew people and their deliverance. Without Judas’ unexplained, underhanded actions, Jesus’ arrest and the ensuing Passion, events would not have reflected the fulfillment of OT prophecies so completely, a point Matthew has Jesus himself affirm at this arrest. Matthew’s refusal to explain whatever personal ambitions may have motivated Judas have not stopped scholars from speculating. In 26:49-50, Jesus’ words and actions are those of forgiveness. In 10:17-20, Matthew recorded the words of Jesus to be concerned with those who hand over the followers of Jesus to courts to be persecuted. The woman who anoints Jesus is the only one who understands what is taking place. The contrast between her actions and those of Judas and the authorities is further heightened. Judas is viewed as greedy, the same as in Jn. 12:6. The words of Jesus are not judgmental, but they do force Judas to take responsibility for his actions. Then, Judas is seen testifying to the innocence of Jesus, as well as bringing judgment upon the religious leaders. By taking his own life, Judas concurs with Jesus’ own statement that it would be better for the betrayer to have never been born. Judas acts as his own judge and jury. In 27:6, the religious leaders recognize their own guilt in that money is considered blood money.
Karl Barth has an extensive discussion of the determination of the rejected human being. He will use Judas as an example.[4] Rejected individuals are those who isolate themselves from God by resisting their election as it has taken place in Jesus Christ. God is for them. They are against God. God is gracious to them. They are ungrateful to God. God receives them. They withdraw from God. God forgives them their sins. They repeat them as though God had not forgiven them. God releases them from the guilt and punishment of their defection. However, they go on living as the prisoner of Satan. God determines them for blessedness and for the service of God. They choose the joylessness of an existence that accords with their own pride and aims at their own honor. Rejected people exist in their own way alongside the elect. We do not fully understand the answer to the question concerning the determination of the elect if we refuse to consider the situation of these others, the rejected. What is the will of God for them? What is the purpose, the goal and content, the planned outworking and fulfillment, the meaning and order of their existence as itself an object of the divine predetermination? The rejection of humanity is the rejection borne eternally and by Jesus Christ in the power of divine self-giving. God rejects the rejection. Because this is so, the rejected human being is other than the elect. Only as such do they share as rejected people in the grace of creation and providence. They also stand in the sphere of the eternal covenant of divine grace. The election and kingdom of Jesus Christ surround them, and as such the superiority of the love of God confronts them. This love may burn and consume them as rejected people, as is fitting, but even so, it is still to them the Almighty, holy and compassionate love of God. This very love debars them from any independent life of their own alongside or apart from the life of the elect. There they stand, people who are hostile to God, ungrateful to God, withdrawing from God, repeating sins already forgiven, and therefore enslaved and cursed. We can take their existence seriously only as God takes it seriously. We do not take it seriously if we understand it other than as a shadow that yields, dissolves, and dissipates. The shadow is itself sinister, threatening, dangerous, and deadly enough. Yet, it is this within the limit set for it by God. It is more important, urgent and serious to see its divinely imposed limit than the horror that is peculiar to it within this limit. This is its divinely imposed limit, and therefore its shadow-quality, that rejected people exist in the person of Jesus Christ only in such a way that Christ assumes them into the being of Christ as the elect and beloved of God. Only in such sort that as they are accepted and received by God, they are transformed, being put to death as the rejected and raised to their proper life as the elect, holy, justified, and blessed. Because Jesus Christ takes their place, He takes from them the right and possibility of their own independent being and He gives them their own being. With Jesus Christ, the rejected can be such only in the past. They cannot be rejected any more. Between them and an independent existence of their own as rejected, there stands the death that Jesus Christ has suffered in their place, and the resurrection by which Jesus Christ has opened up for them their own place as elect. Their distinctive determination is rooted in their distinctive nature. They do not have it apart from or alongside, but with that of the elect. It indicates the meaning and purpose of the determination of the elect. It is the necessary reverse side of this determination, which we must not overlook or forget. In its ultimate range, it points to the very spot at which the proper and positive determination of the elect begins.
First, in the reality of the existence peculiar to them, it is the determination of the rejected to manifest the recipients of the Gospel whose proclamation is the determination of the elect. The rejected has not simply vanished or been destroyed. Thanks to the divine wisdom and patience, they can take differed forms within the appointed limit. In this capacity, they represent the world and the individual as far as they are in need of the divine election.
Second, in the distinctive character of their existence, the rejected has the determination constantly to manifest that which is denied and overcome by the Gospel. The rejected are the people whose only witness is to themselves and their false choice as those isolated over against God, the people who at the deepest level and in the deepest sense has nothing at all to say. They are the ones who live in a false service as well as in a false liberty. They are the people who are deceived because they deceive themselves.
Third, the rejected have the determination, in the distinctive limitation of their existence, to manifest the purpose of the Gospel. The rejected have no future. As those who will to be their own master, they can only achieve their own destruction. However, the purpose of the divine election of grace is to grant to those who have no future, a future in covenant with God. It is with this in view that the Gospel speaks. It is with this purpose that God turns to humanity, and that God addresses the Word of God to humanity.
Judas Iscariot is the supreme example in the New Testament of the rejected portion of humanity. The savage and sinful handing over of Jesus by Judas, in itself without justification, corresponds objectively to the handing over of Jesus into the hands of humanity that is the meaning and content of the apostolic ministry, by which the Church on earth is established and maintained. The latter handing over rectifies the mischief done by the former. Jesus is glorified as He was once blasphemed. Yet, the New Testament does not speak only of a wrathful delivery of Jesus. It also speaks of a divine handing over. Everything positive that Christ does for humanity, so that it is a reality for humanity in Christ, and effective by faith in Christ, is rooted and grounded in the fact that Christ first gave Himself for humanity, or as in Romans 8, God handed him over for humanity. This was for us. Paul strongly emphasized this. This handing over is the eternal will of God. It did not happen by chance. It has nothing whatever to do with human tragedy or the like. It had to happen, as the will of God, and not the will of fate. From this position, which Paul so strongly advocates, we will now look back to the observations that we made regarding the other use of handing over. To begin with, it is obvious that no worse fate overtakes the Jews and Gentiles handed over by God in the wrath of God, or those Christians whose delivery to Satan is occasionally mentioned, than that which God caused to the divine self in the handing over of the Son. However, the more profoundly and comprehensively we attempt to formulate the sin and guilt of Judas, the more his will and deed approach what neither he himself willed and did, nor the people of Israel, nor the Gentiles at whose head he finally appears. Rather, the more his will and deed approach what God willed and did in this matter as the divine handing over that here took place. In the divine handing over, we find the humiliation to which God willed to give the divine self, intervening for humanity and against the rule of Satan in the world of humanity, to cleanse them from the sin against Christ of which they are guilty. We now see Judas who, at their head, incurs the guilt. The paradox in the figure of Judas is that, although his action as the executor of the New Testament is so sinful, yet as such, in all its sinfulness, it is still the action of that executor. The divine and human handing over cannot be distinguished in what Judas did, as in the genuine apostolic tradition, where the human is related to the divine handing over as to its content and subject. In the case of Judas, the apostle who perverted his apostleship and served Satan, the two coincide. As the human handing over takes place, the divine takes place directly, and the divine takes place directly as the human takes place. In Judas, live again all the great rejected of the Old Testament who already had to testify that this elect people are in truth rejected. Israel is elect in and from its rejection. Israel is elect only in the form of the divine promise given to it in the beginning and never taken away. Israel is elect finally only in the person of the One for whose sake this people could and must have its special existence. It declares that Jesus Christ died also for rejected Israel. What the result will be is in the hand of God. If we cannot answer this question, we have still to maintain that even rejected Israel is always in the open and at the same time so very unequally determined situation of the proclamation, and that the question of its future can never be put except in the situation. However, to say this is to say all that we need to say about the general question of the divine will and intention for the rejected, the non-elect. The answer can only be as follows. God wills that they too should hear the Gospel, and with it the promise of their election. God wills that the elect should proclaim this Gospel to them. God wills that they should appropriate and live by the hope that the Gospel gives them. God wills that the rejected should believe, and that as a believer they should become a rejected humanity elected. The rejected as such has no independent existence in the presence of God. God does not determine them merely as rejected. They are determined to hear and say that they are a rejected humanity elected, from their rejection, people in whom Judas lived, but was also slain, as in the case of Paul. They are rejected who as such are summoned to faith. They are rejected who based on the election of Jesus Christ, and looking to the fact that Christ delivered Himself up for them, believe in their election.
Matthew 26:17-19 the Passover preparation. The source is Mark 14.12—21; Lk 22.7—13) 17 On the first day of Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Where do you want us to make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?” 18 He said, “Go into the city to a certain man, and say to him, ‘The Teacher says, in a phrase added by Matthew, My time is near; I will keep the Passover at your house with my disciples.’ ” 19 So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them, and they prepared the Passover meal. Some scholars consider this story fictional. The shortening of the account of Mark lessens the impact of Jesus’ prophetic knowledge and its literal fulfillment.
Matthew 26:20-25 is the story of identifying the betrayer. The source is Mark.[5] 20 When it was evening, he took his place with the twelve; 21 and while they were eating, he said, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me.” 22 And they became greatly distressed and began to say to him one after another, “Surely not I, Lord?” 23 He answered, “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. The idea that Jesus could have known the mind of Judas is plausible. If so, the words would have burned themselves deeply into the oral tradition. His words give the betrayer time to reflect. 24 The Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that one by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that one not to have been born.” 25 Judas, who betrayed him, said, “Surely not I, Rabbi?” He replied, “You have said so.” In Bach's "Saint Matthew Passion" Judas asks the question, "Is it I?" In the traditional music, Judas asks this question alone. In Bach's version, it is whole chorus, representing all of us, who asks, "Is it I."
Matthew 26:26-30 is the story of the institution of the Lord’s Supper or Eucharist. The source is Mark 14.22—26; Lk 22.14—23; 1 Cor 11.23—26) The purpose of the story is to relate what Jesus said and did in the interests of faith and worship in these last hours.[6] Yet, 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.[7] The 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. 26 While they were eating, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it (the Christian theology of prayer has retained the stress on thanksgiving as the starting point and motif of prayer for this reason[8]) he broke it, gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” Therefore, the bread is no longer simply what it was before.[9] 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. Mark and Matthew have no reference to a command from Jesus to the continuation of this act in remembrance of Jesus. 27 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[10]) he gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you; 28 for this is my blood of the (note he does not have “new” here) covenant, (and establishes a new people of God,[11]separating them from the rest of the Jewish people by their confession of Jesus[12]) which is poured out for many, with Matthew adding for the forgiveness of sins. In Corinthians 11:25 reads, “In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, and “This cup is the new (note the emphasis by Paul upon newness) covenant in my blood.” The text links the cup with Jesus’ death, as in Matthew 20:23=Mark 10:39. 29 I tell you, I will never again drink of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” The story explains 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.[13] 30 When they had sung the hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.
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, is turned into a saying of Jesus in which the disciples eat and drink at the command of Jesus. Matthew looks upon the death of Jesus as the basis for the forgiveness of sins, albeit in such a way that the community exercises the forgiveness and that only the man who forgives others can receive forgiveness. Matthew sees Jesus going to his death as a pioneer, who opens the way of a new life to those who follow him. Matthew emphasizes the table fellowship between Jesus and his disciples at the end of time. Jesus stresses that he will not drink again until he enters the kingdom. Each occasion is the Messianic banquet of the revealed rule 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]
In Jewish practice, the host of a meal gave thanks and broke bread as a way of opening the meal. 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 I Corinthians 11:23-25 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=Matthew 15:32-39, 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.[15]
Matthew 26:31-35 is the story of the prediction of the denial by Peter. The source is Mark 14.27—31; Lk 22.31—34; Jn 13.36—38). 31 Then Jesus said to them, “You will all become deserters (σκανδαλισθήσεσθε) because of me this night; for it is written in Zechariah 13:7, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.’ In its original textual setting, “the shepherd” is evil, “worthless” and the one “who deserts the flock” (Zechariah 11:17a). Indeed, the ancient prophet is so wholly repelled by “the shepherd” that he declares, “May the sword strike his arm and his right eye! / Let his arm be completely withered, / his right eye utterly blinded!” (Zechariah 11:17b). Based on his unmitigated abhorrence of “the shepherd,” it makes sense for the prophet to call for the shepherd’s slaughter in his subsequent repudiation: “‘Awake, O sword, against my shepherd, / against the man who is my associate,’ says the LORD of hosts. / Strike the shepherd, that the sheep may be scattered; / I will turn my hand against the little ones’” (Zechariah 13:7). In Zechariah, “the shepherd” is a villain who deserves condemnation, but in Matthew, Jesus, the righteous one, is “the [good] shepherd.” Despite being innocent, he will be treated as a criminal and condemned to death, and when this injustice takes place the disciples flee. However, if the prophetic word from Zechariah about the shepherd is fulfilled, then it seems reasonable to expect that the entire prophecy will be realized, “And I will … refine them as one refines silver, / and test them as gold as tested. / They will call on my name, / and I will answer them. / I will say, ‘They are my people’; / and they will say, ‘The LORD is our God’” (Zechariah 13:9). In sum, Zechariah’s prophecy not only foreshadows the disciples’ flight but also offers a credible word of redemption and hope. 32 But after I am raised up, I will go ahead of you to Galilee.” Matthew does not provide any explicit explanation for Jesus’ remark. It is simply an enigmatic reference. However, there are hints in the gospel that illuminate Jesus’ directive regarding the reunion in Galilee. For instance, until 19:1, most of the recorded events occur in and around Galilee. Other than Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem, the familial exile in Egypt, his temptation in the wilderness and an occasional excursion to surrounding territories, Jesus’ ministry takes place in Galilee. Moreover, Galilee is where Jesus calls his first four disciples (cf. 4:18-22), and it seems probable that many, if not most, of the remaining eight apostles are also Galileans. Finally, after they desert Jesus at his arrest and watch the Romans crucify him, it is understandable they would to return to Galilee. For what better salve for them than to return home as they attempt to make sense of what they had just witnessed in Jerusalem. Given all this, it is no surprise that Jesus “will go ahead” of his disciples and return to Galilee. 33 Peter said to him, “Though all become deserters (σκανδαλισθήσονται) because of you, I will never desert you.” Peter does not know himself very well. He lives with a delusion as to who he is. 34 Jesus said to him, “Truly I tell you, this very night, before the cock crows, you will deny me three times.” If Peter lived with a delusion about himself, Jesus did not. Jesus knew Peter all too well. 35 Peter said to him, “Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you.” It might have been well for Peter to keep quiet, but again, he fails to humbly receive the insight of Jesus into the true Peter. And so said all the disciples. Amazing! We now see that they were all delusional. They did not know themselves. They did not know what the future held. How could they make such a profession? They did not know the depth of their own weakness or of the nature of humanity. Lying to ourselves will slowly make it difficult to see the truth regarding self or others. This will lead to loss of respect and even loss of ability to love, all descending from lying to ourselves.[16] The simple act of betrayal, of handing over those closest to us to suffering, is a potential within us all. All of us have the capacity for betraying our closest friends, our best self, and God.[17] Matthew emphasizes the bond between Jesus and the disciples more than does Mark. Yet, he represents the gospel tradition at this point. Some scholars think the story is part of a polemic against the leadership of Peter. However, the gospel tradition has carried on a polemic against all the disciples, and this will continue in the passion story. The disciples do not look like good students or followers of Jesus as the tradition presents them. Yet, their example is a reminder of our weakness. Despite claims to the contrary, no one really knows how he or she will respond in a crisis. And although Jesus knew how his disciples would react, it is impossible for any of us to know with absolute certainty whether one will abandon or deny Jesus when facing a comparable moment of testing.
For Mark and Matthew, 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. Leaving the upper room, Jesus becomes decisively negative in outlook. The somber mood established by the opening words, “You will be scandalized.” Why such pessimism? Why juxtapose two such dire predictions, one about the disciples, the other about Peter? Despite the disciples being scandalized, Jesus would not abandon them but reassemble them as his flock. The weakness of the disciples is not an unforgiveable sin. Every moment is a possibility for living as a faithful witness or to fall away from it. Neither moment will last forever. We will make further decisions that will determine the direction of our character and discipleship. If we fail, the possibility is always present for redemption. Our self-deluded thinking, that somehow, we are better looking than we really are, more charming and intelligent than we really are, this tendency to overestimate ourselves in certain areas of our lives, does not make us beyond the reach of God. Our weakness does not make us unserviceable to the rule of God, to reflect the glory of God, or distance us from the warmth of the love of God. Matthew and his readers, like other early Christians, held Jesus’ disciples and Peter in esteem as saintly witnesses, especially if by the time of writing Peter had been martyred. Nevertheless, Matthew uses the Gospel to stress that such 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 were scandalized and even denied him. Matthew is offering a pedagogy of hope based on the initial failure of the most famous followers of Jesus had a second chance for them. The two predictions fit very well into Mark’s theology, which here Matthew adopts. The placing of the two predictions as transitional to the scene in Gethsemane is Mark’s arrangement to provide an introduction appropriate in tone to what follows. 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?
Matthew 26:36-46 is the story of Gethsemane. The source is Mark 14.32—42; Lk 22.39—46. Early Christians had a tradition that before he died Jesus struggled in prayer about his fate. Hebrews 5:7-10[18] is an independent witness, referring as it does to the human life of Jesus, his offering of prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears to the one able to save him from death. God heard his prayer because of his reverent submission. Even as the Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered, thereby fulfilling his destiny or divine purpose throughout the course of his life. 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. In fact, the notion of the divine will that impresses itself upon us as a power that acts upon us is a notion we may find here.[19] 36 Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” 37 He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be grieved and agitated. 38 Then he said to them, “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and stay awake with me.” 39 And going a little farther, as the text becomes 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. Then he threw himself on the ground and prayed, “My Father, Matthew personalizing the text he found in Mark and personalizing the address Jesus taught his disciples to pray in the Lord’s Prayer, Matthew omitting the reference to “abba,” probably because it had fallen into disuse in his community. If it is possible, let this cup pass from me. 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 the divine plan. However, Jesus concludes, yet not what I want but what you want.” 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. The scene of his 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 what caused his reluctance and anguish was not simply facing struggle with Evil, the great trial that preceded the coming of the kingdom. The passage seems to 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 for deliverance from death or is not thinking of his own suffering but of all the sins of the world. 40 Then he came to the disciples and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, “So, could you not stay awake with me one hour? The disciples fail, Peter receiving specific criticism. 41 Stay awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial, like the Lord’s prayer in Matthew 6:13 and Luke 11:4 about deliverance from temptation or the time of trial, the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” The disciples become an object lesson in what happens when one fails to stay awake as Jesus mentioned in sayings and parables (Mark 13:34-37=Matthew 25:13 and 24:42). [20] with his 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. Jesus’ withstanding temptation becomes an example to all in the face of their temptations. 42 Again he went away for the second time and prayed, Matthew identifying the words of the prayer while Mark was content with a general reference to them,“My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” The slight change in wording from the first prayer yields another insight. Another connection to the prayer Jesus taught his disciples to pray, applying the prayer for the will of the Father to be done in a way that suggests the struggle and ultimate submission to the will of the Father. Matthew describes how Jesus, while praying, achieves a submission to the will of the Father, at the same time seeking the companionship of his disciples because he wants to help them follow in his footsteps, inculcating in them the petition of the Lord’s Prayer. The notion of the divine will that impresses itself upon us as a power that acts upon us is a notion we may find here.[21] 43 Again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. 44 So leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the same words. 45 Then he came to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners.The double prayer about the hour and the cup catches the intensity of the request. 46 Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.” 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 the rule of God. In his struggle and prayer, Jesus prayed for deliverance from the death of an outlaw at the hands of his enemies. Such a prayer will not shock those who give sufficient attention to the view Jesus and of the inbreaking of the rule of God, for it involved a massive struggle with diabolic opposition in whose arsenal death had hitherto served as a mighty weapon.
Jesus prays that he will submit to the will of God rather than seek the fulfillment of what he wants. God has made us as creatures able to want. Part of what it means theologically for God to make us in the image of God is that we are able to want. Animals have needs. We have not only needs but also wants. Needs and wants relate to each other but are different. Sometimes they coincide and at other times, they do not. We all have need for food, clothing, shelter, health, transportation, and for love and attention. Needs are normal and acceptable. However, we rightly suspect our wants. Children who are always saying, "I want" are tedious. Moreover, adult wants are often crude: "I want luxury" or "I want to have an affair" or "I want you to suffer." 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 is the right auto, house, neighborhood, fashion, clothing, jewelry, and investments. Our wants shape the enhancement of life. Ralph Waldo Emerson said the needs of life are much fewer than most people realize. We need someone to love‑‑and to be loved‑‑so we may share our joys and sorrows. We need something worth doing so we can fill time and not kill it. We need faith in God that makes sense out of life.
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."
Matthew 26:47-56 is the story of the betrayal and arrest of Jesus. The source is Mark 14.43—52; Lk 22.47—53; Jn 18.1—11. Jesus appears here as one ready to meet the fate that stands before him. 47 While he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, arrived; with him was a large crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and the elders of the people. 48 Now Matthew stresses that the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, “The one I will kiss is the man; arrest him.” 49 At once he came up to Jesus and said, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and kissed him. 50 Jesus said to him, “Friend, do what you are here to do.” Then they came and laid hands on Jesus and arrested him. 51 Suddenly, one of those with Jesus put his hand on his sword, drew it, and struck the slave of the high priest, cutting off his ear. Matthew adds: 52 Then Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword. 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 violence response in which they will fall victim. One cannot defend Jesus in this way. Jesus came down on the side of protection of life.[22] 53 Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels? 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; it is instead reflected in Jesus’ way of the cross. People can never agree in their prayers about where the evil to be destroyed is to be found; 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 can never be forced. True faith comes into being at the very point where God is most powerless: face-to-face with the cross of Jesus. Matthew returns to Mark: 54 But how then would the scriptures be fulfilled, which say it must happen in this way?” The passion of Jesus takes its place among those events that must happen according to God’s plan in order that the rule of God may be consummated. Matthew’s addition has turned the story of Jesus’ arrest into 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. 55 At that hour Jesus said to the crowds, “Have you come out with swords and clubs to arrest me as though I were a bandit? Day after day I sat in the temple teaching, and you did not arrest me. 56 But all this has taken place, so that the scriptures of the prophets may be fulfilled.” Then all the disciples deserted him and fled. 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 violence response in which they will ultimately fall victim. One cannot defend Jesus in this way. Jesus came down on the side of protection of life.[23] 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. As the disciples forsook Jesus, we should note their blindness 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.[24]
Matthew 26:57-68 is the story of Jesus before High Priest Caiaphas. [25] The source is Mark 14.53—65; Lk 22.66—71; Jn 18.12—14, 19—24. Scholars raise historical questions that I will deal with in footnotes. My reason is that I want to continue presenting the passion narrative in a way that helps the reader encounter the theological and spiritual truth contained in it. As readers today, we need to exercise some care. Of course, the Passion narrative will present Jesus as one innocent of the charges brought against him, thereby heightening our sense of the injustice of this moment. This trial has led to continuing hatred of the Jewish people. The Jewish people continue in world history. The Roman Empire does not, so the atrocities it committed against Jesus and his followers do not receive the same attention. The point here is responsibility for the death of Jesus rather than guilt for it.[26]57 Those who had arrested Jesus took him to Caiaphas the high priest, in whose house the scribes and the elders had gathered. 58 But Peter was following him at a distance, as far as the courtyard of the high priest; and going inside, he sat with the guards in order to see how this would end. 59 Now the chief priests and the whole council were looking for false testimony against Jesus so that they might put him to death, 60 but they found none, though many false witnesses came forward. At last two came forward 61 and said, “This fellow said, ‘I am able to destroy the temple of God and to build it in three days.’” The veiled attack by Jesus on the temple would have been reason enough for a trial. The background of this trial is the word and deed of Jesus against the Temple. The cleansing of the Temple precincts from commerce is an action all four gospels recount. The word and action of Jesus in this regard has some ambiguity. In that act, he wants purified worship at the temple. Yet, Mark 11:17=Matthew 21:13, while referring to the temple becoming a house of prayer, also wants it to be one for all the nations. Jesus has also prophesied that God will destroy the temple in Mark 13=Matthew 24. The attitude of Jesus toward the Temple is nothing like that of the Essenes, who had a whole program for matters of priestly descent, sacrifice, those allowed admittance, and so on. He was not from Jerusalem or the priestly class, and so he had no stake in the continued building of the Temple and its material survival as a way of life. The Gospel writers understood the hostility of Jesus toward the Temple, when he manifested it, to be like that of the ancient prophets, for they cite Jeremiah 7:11 and Zechariah 14:21. Jesus engaged in a prophetic dramatic action against improprieties in the Temple and uttered a prophetic threat that the coming of the rule of God would involve destruction and rebuilding of the sanctuary. We need to read this trial considering the word and action of Jesus. The cleansing of the temple and the prophetic words involving the destruction of the temple would lead to hostility from religious leaders in Jerusalem. It seems likely that an anti-Temple interpretation of the words and actions of Jesus would lead to the desire by Jewish authorities that he dies. They become the moving agents behind the proceedings against Jesus. Thus, it seems likely that the accusation made in the proceedings occurred something like the way Mark records it. Further, Theissen’s sociological analysis, drawing from incidents in the thirty-five years after Jesus’ death, points to a particular hostility between country people who idealized the Temple and the Sadducean priestly aristocracy. Did Jesus’ Galilean origins bring him into that conflict? Based on figures supplied by Josephus, Theissen estimates that some 20 percent of Jerusalem’s population depended on the Temple for livelihood, and therefore, like the priests, would have been upset with threats to it. Josephus demonstrates serious reaction to a pronouncement of woe upon the Temple in the example of Jesus son of Ananias. Overall, the attitude of Jesus toward the Temple/sanctuary may very well have been among the religious legal reasons offered to the Sanhedrin in making a case for a death sentence.
62 The high priest stood up and said, “Have you no answer? What is it that they testify against you?” 63 But Jesus was silent. Then the high priest said to him, “I put you under oath before the living God, tell us if you are the Messiah (Χριστὸς), the Son of God (Υἱὸς τοῦ Θεοῦ).” Among the historical difficulties here is that there does not appear to be a single national expectation of the Jewish Messiah. Historically, we find few references to the claim to be the Jewish Messiah.[27] We know that the followers of Jesus proclaimed Jesus as the Jewish Messiah after his resurrection. We also know the references to Jesus as the Jewish Messiah are rare in the Gospel story, and when they do occur, Jesus has an ambiguous response to the title. It also seems clear that the Romans crucified Jesus with the mocking title of “King of the Jews.” It seems clear that the ambiguity of the response of Jesus led his enemies to conclude that Jesus was a spiritual danger to the Jewish people.[28] The only sure point is that Jewish authorities handed Jesus over to the Romans for judgment as a messianic pretender and therefore as a rebel. In any case, this judgment was clearly a pretext behind which Jewish authorities hid their real reasons of why he had become unacceptable to them.[29]
64 Jesus said to him, “You have said so. But I tell you, as stated in Daniel 7:13, From now on you will see the Son of Man (Υἱὸν τοῦ ἀνθρώπου) seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven.” Jesus discloses the deepest mystery of the triumphant Son of Man. The answer Jesus gives to the High Priest is ambivalent insofar as it replies to the question of messiahship with a statement about the coming of the Son of Man. Matthew emphasizes the divine authority of Jesus: he could destroy the Temple and rebuild it, and his passion is the way to enthronement, so that those who condemn him will know him as Lord of the universe and coming judge. Veiled in Jesus, the outcast from Nazareth, one who renounces violence and willingly accepts execution, is appointed Lord of the entire world. In apocalyptic Jewish circles whose voice finds an echo 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. Given the apocalyptic bent of Jesus and his followers, it seems likely they discussed the heavenly figure that God glorifies and makes judge of human affairs. Granted the conception of Jesus 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. He had come to identify himself as the coming Son of Man.[30] Hesitancy by scholars at this point relies upon the assumption that Jesus had no “Christology.” He never considered his personal role in the coming rule of God. The phrasing we find here reflects the thinking of the church in the 60s, of course, but the mindset derives from Jesus. He put together the apocalyptic notion of the Son of Man with that of the Suffering Servant in a unique way.[31] Jewish authorities seemed to understand the threat of judgment by the Son of Man as an expression of human arrogance.[32]
65 Then the high priest tore his clothes and said, “He has blasphemed (Ἐβλασφήμησεν)! Why do we still need witnesses? You have now heard his blasphemy (βλασφημίαν). The high priest understands the threat of judgment by the Son of Man upon Jewish authorities as an expression of human arrogance.[33] From the attested meanings of the Greek word, the only likely charge involving blaspheme would have been that Jesus arrogantly claimed for himself status or privileges that belonged properly to the God of Israel alone and in that sense implicitly demeaned God. The claim to be the Son of Man would be blasphemous. Yet, even if one sees the answer Jesus gives as an affirmative answer, it is difficult to see why Caiaphas should have found it to be blasphemous. It may well be that the messianic claim of Jesus seemed blasphemous because he regarded it as false, construing it as a blasphemous presumption. Yet, it is hard to answer the question of how Caiaphas arrived at this conclusion.[34] The only sure point is that Jewish authorities handed Jesus over to the Romans for judgment as a messianic pretender and therefore as a rebel. In any case, this judgment was clearly a pretext behind which Jewish authorities hid their real reasons of why he had become unacceptable to them.[35] Jewish leaders could conclude that Jesus was a false prophet, which would also lead the accusation of blasphemy. The fact that Jesus acted like a prophet and thus caused some to think he was one could have caused others to think he was a false prophet. The reaction to Jesus at court is a response to the threat Jesus posed to his earthly judges for their abuse of the Jewish court system. If so, Deuteronomy 17:12 comes into play, where if anyone disobeys the priest, the person must die. This view suggests that the threat of judgment by the Son of Man, even without identification of Jesus as the Son of Man, would have been enough for a death sentence as an insult to the court, based on Deuteronomy 17:12.[36]
66 What is your verdict?” Only Matthew records the verdict of the high priest. They answered, “He deserves death.” Religious leaders who kill in the name of God is not new. It has been going on 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."[37]
I would now like to offer a summary of the history behind verses 55-64, one that many scholars would find agreement. In the last period when Jesus was active in Jerusalem, a Sanhedrin was called together to discuss what to do about him. During this session, they discussed the threat he presented to the Temple. This was not a courtroom trial in the technical sense of Jesus being present; but some testified to the kinds of things he said and stood for, and there was a decision that they needed to have him put to death. There is never a suggestion in the Gospels that the Jewish authorities thought of executing him themselves; they remember them only as planning to catch or arrest him without causing a disturbance. From the Gospel unanimity, eventually they gave Jesus over to the Roman governor, without a hint that his was a change of plan, we have every reason to believe that the pre-Gospel tradition envisioned this outcome from the beginning. Finally, through the help of Judas, his opponents seized Jesus in a secluded spot on the Mount of Olives and brought him to the palace of the high priest. The tradition remembers that Jesus’ disciples did not accompany him to lend support in this dark hour. Thus, in the tradition Jesus was a solitary figure throughout the rest of his passion. Whether or not in the pre-Gospel tradition other Sanhedrin members were present is not clear; but there is unanimity that some of them joined the high priest I the morning, taking Jesus to Pilate to press the Roman governor to put Jesus to death.
67 Then they spat in his face and struck him; and some slapped him, 68 saying, “Prophesy to us, you Messiah (Χριστέ)! Who is it that struck you?” Concerning the Jewish abuse and mockery of Jesus, there may lay a slapping or beating of Jesus by one or more attendants in the aftermath of his interrogation by the high priest the night of his arrest. In Deuteronomy 13: 5-6, the probability is that Jewish religious leaders suspected Jesus of being a deceiver who was leading people astray from traditional divine revelation, and therefore deserving of death. They did not enact judicial murder out of personal dislike of Jesus. They acted in good faith in regarding Jesus as a deceiver who was seducing the people into apostasy from the God of Israel along the lines expressed here. Justin still has awareness of this decisive accusation in Dialogue with Tryphyo, 69.7 and 108.1.[38]
Matthew 26:69-75 is the story of the Peter’s denial. The source is Mark 14.66—72; Lk 22.54—62; Jn 18.15—18, 25—27). Jesus becomes an example to inspire the whole community, while Peter is an example to warn them. 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 threefold nature of Peter’s approaching denial finds its parallel in the failure of Peter, James, and John in the Garden of Gethsemane. Unable to understand Jesus’ agony or assuage his fears, Peter, James, and John simply succumb to post-meal, long-day exhaustion. We can note a woeful difference between the kinds of following Peter does now, compared to his initial, enthusiastic response to follow in Mark 1:18=Matthew 4:20. Above Peter, in the rooms of the high priest, Jesus is on trial for his life. The accusers of Jesus disintegrate into a vengeful, riotous mob.
69 Now Peter was sitting outside in the courtyard. A servant-girl came to him and said, “You also were with Jesus the Galilean.” Reference to Jesus as “Galilean” may suggest a potential revolutionary. 70 But he denied it before all of them, saying, “I do not know what you are talking about.” 71 When he went out to the porch, another servant-girl saw him, and she said to the bystanders, “This man was with Jesus of Nazareth.” 72 Again he denied it with an oath, “I do not know the man.” 73 After a little while the bystanders came up and said to Peter, “Certainly you are also one of them, for your accent betrays you.” 74 Then he began to curse, and he swore an oath, “I do not know the man!” In direct opposition to Jesus’ own teaching, Matthew has Peter take an oath. Peter withdraws from any association with Jesus. 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. At that moment the cock crowed. 75 Then Peter remembered what Jesus had said: “Before the cock crows, you will deny me three times.” 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. And he went out and wept bitterly.
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 the disciples failed miserably. If people like that fail, there is comfort to us. After all, 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, cold 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 very useful for Christian exhortation after Peter died the death of a martyr 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 Clement 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.[39]
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, Jesus had assured him of a future. Judas never bothered to check the back door of grace.
Matthew 27:1-2 is the story of Jesus delivered to Pilate. [40] The source is Mark 15.1; Lk 23.1; Jn 18.28). Matthew has in mind an immediate continuation of the account in 26:66-68. 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. When morning came, all the chief priests and the elders of the people conferred together against Jesus in order to bring about his death. Some scholars consider that the idea that all the elders in Jerusalem became involved in a plot against Jesus as an exaggeration. However, we have enough external evidence that it is likely that Jesus was brought to Pilate. 2 They bound him, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate the governor.
Matthew 27:3-10 is the story of the death of Judas. The source is Mark. Acts 1:18-20 and Papias also record the fate of Judas. 3 When Judas, his betrayer, saw that Jesus was condemned, he repented and brought back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and the elders. 4 He said, “I have sinned by betraying innocent blood.” But they said, “What is that to us? See to it yourself.” 5 Throwing down the pieces of silver in the temple, he departed; and he went and hanged himself. Note that Judas hangs himself, just as Ahithophel did after he betrayed David in II Sam. 17:23. The fate of Judas in his remorse stands in harsh contrast to that of Peter in his remorse. Matthew suggests that the one who wants to make amends may do so. 6 But the chief priests, taking the pieces of silver, said, “It is not lawful to put them into the treasury, since they are blood money.” 7 After conferring together, they used them to buy the potter’s field as a place to bury foreigners. 8 For this reason that field has been called the Field of Blood to this day. 9 Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah, where in 32:6-15 he buys a field from his cousin in the land of Benjamin for 17 pieces of silver, where Jeremiah did make a journey to the potter in 18:2-3, and where Matthew then applies to this event Zechariah 11:12-13, which has the prophet receiving his wages of 30 pieces of silver and puts it in the treasury. “And they took the thirty pieces of silver, the price of the one on whom a price had been set, on whom some of the people of Israel had set a price, 10 and they gave them for the potter’s field (which is just one Hebrew letter different from “blood”), as the Lord commanded me.” I have noted the Old Testament background of this text. This suggests to most scholars that the story out of reflection upon them. This text illustrates how legend was already coming into being even the New Testament period.
Matthew 27:11-23 is the story of Jesus before Pilate and the choice for Barabbas. The source is Mark 15:2-14, Luke 23:2-5, 13-24, John 18:29-38a, 39-40. Matthew departs more than elsewhere from Mark. The hearing before Pilate has undergone considerable elaboration. 11 Now Jesus stood before the governor, Matthew adding this official title for Pilate; and the governor asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews (Βασιλεὺς τῶν Ἰουδαίων)?” Note that the title “king of the Jews” corresponds to the title given by other gentiles, the magi. What evidence do we have the Gospel narratives that Jesus thought of himself as king? The basis of the accusation is the inscription on the cross. The charge on which they interrogated, condemned, and crucified Jesus concerned a pretension to be the king of the Jews, a title derived from that period in the 2nd and 1st century BC when Jewish kings ruled in Judea. Pilate sentenced Jesus to die on the cross on this charge. The writers are interested in making that dramatically effective as a vehicle of proclaiming who Jesus is, not in telling readers how Pilate got his information, why he phrased it as he did, or with what legal formalities he conducted the trial. Jesus said, “You say so.” The evasiveness and ambiguity of the saying suggests an authentic word from Jesus.[41]However, he gave no answer when the chief priests and elders accused him of the claim. 12 But when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he did not answer. 13 Then Pilate said to him, “Do you not hear how many accusations they make against you?” 14 But he gave him no answer, not even to a single charge, so that the governor was greatly amazed.
Matthew has consciously expanded the contrast with Barabbas. 15 Now at the festival the governor was accustomed to release a prisoner for the crowd, anyone whom they wanted. Josephus, in Antiquities 20:208-09, 215, has such an incident of release of a prisoner, as does the Mishnah in Pesahim 8:6a. 16 At that time they had a notorious prisoner, called Jesus, the surname added by Matthew, Barabbas. 17 So after they had gathered, Pilate said to them, “Whom do you want me to release for you, Jesus Barabbas or Jesus who is called the Messiah (Χριστόν)?” 18 For he realized that it was out of jealousy that they had handed him over. Matthew adds that 19 While he was sitting on the judgment seat, his wife sent word to him, “Have nothing to do with that innocent man, for today I have suffered a great deal because of a dream about him.” The omen of the governor’s wife heightens the tension. The ray of hope is the sympathetic response of a gentile woman to a dream. 20 Now the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowds to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus killed. Matthew is stressing that all the people shout for crucifixion of Jesus. This observation is part of a general tendency within the gospel tradition to absolve the Romans of guilt for the crucifixion of Jesus. 21 The governor again said to them, “Which of the two do you want me to release for you?” And they said, “Barabbas.” 22 Pilate said to them, “Then what should I do with Jesus who is called the Messiah (Χριστόν)?” All of them said, “Let him be crucified!” 23 Then he asked, “Why, what evil has he done?” The prefect recognized that this was not the real basis for the antagonism toward Jesus on the part of the Jewish authorities. But they shouted all the more, “Let him be crucified!” Matthew makes the either/or choice clear several times between Jesus, son of Abbas, or Jesus, son of Mary and Joseph. Rather than focusing on the suffering Jesus endured, the focus shifts to the incomprehensible choice made by the blind people of the covenant. The authorities arrested the “son of Abba,” with the personal name of Jesus, 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.
Matthew 27: 24-26 is the story of Pilate handing Jesus over for crucifixion. The source is Mark 15:14, Luke 23:25, John 19:16. 24 So when Pilate saw that he could do nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took some water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” 25 Then the people as a whole answered, “His blood be on us and on our children!” Matthew has in mind the destruction of the temple and Jerusalem. Yet, later Christian generations made this statement apply to Jews throughout history, an interpretation that has caused great pain in their relationship. We cannot speak of a guilt of the Jewish people for the death of Jesus, despite verse 25. Even if in the debates about the release of a condemned person the crowd did utter this terrible curse, is God going to hold the crowd and the whole people to it?[42] 26 So he released Barabbas for them; and after flogging Jesus, he handed him over to be crucified. Under orchestrated pressure, Pilate yielded to the will of the Jewish authorities rather than have public trouble over an issue in which he had little interest.
Matthew 27:27-31 is the story of Jesus mocked by soldiers. [43] The source is Mark 15.16—20. Matthew follows Mark closely. 27 Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters, and they gathered the whole cohort around him. 28 They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, 29 and after twisting some thorns into a crown, they put it on his head. The thorns on his head appear in John, while Zech. 6:11 may have influenced the wording. They put a reed in his right hand and knelt before him and mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews (Βασιλεῦ τῶνἸουδαίων)!” In the time of this text, believers could think of Jesus as a king, even though during his life he had no such aspirations. Scripture and standard protocol that goes with investing royalty suggested the theater and details.30 They spat on him, and took the reed and struck him on the head. 31 After mocking him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him. Christian charges of deicide against the Jewish people as a seal of its definitive rejection by God ought never to have arisen. The churches have rightly distanced themselves from them, even if too late, but with an expression of shame at the long and painful history of Christian relations to the Jewish people. Charges of this kind have poisoned such relations.[44]
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.
In Matthew 27:32-54, Jesus dies. 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. 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.[45] 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.[46]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.[47] 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 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.[48]
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.[49]
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.[50] Our sin is more incurable because we do not view ourselves as sinners.[51] 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.[52] 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 one who appear to be 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.[53]
Matthew 27:32-44 is the story of Jesus crucified and mocked from the cross. The source is Mark 15.21—32; Lk 23.26—43; Jn 19.16b—27. 32 As they went out, they came upon a man from Cyrene named Simon; they compelled this man to carry his cross, Matthew shortening this reference from what we find in Mark. Some believe that the anomaly of one person carrying another’s cross increases the odds that Simon was a historical figure. The Gospel of Peter does not mention it, and John 19:17 says that Jesus carried his own cross. 33 And when they came to a place called Golgotha (which means Place of a Skull). Golgotha more likely stood upon the traditional site rather than more modern theories. 34 They offered him wine to drink, mixed with gall; but when he tasted it, he would not drink it. The surprise is that Roman officers offer wine, for in the background are family, friends, or pious helpers. For Matthew the offer of wine is another test that Jesus must endure. Matthew makes the first connection with Ps 69:21. Thus, in Matthew, readers would think of the just man abused by his enemies. In the earliest tradition, it is likely that there was one offering of wine in mockery of Jesus’ thirst on the cross. 35 And when they had crucified him, recent excavations suggesting that crucifixion was done with an upright pole remaining in the place of crucifixion, and the nails driven between wrists and one in ankles. 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 the Romans to have crucified. 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. They divided his clothes among themselves by casting lots. The evidence favors complete nudity on the cross. 36 Then they sat down there and kept watch over him. 37 Over his head they put the charge against him, which read, “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews (ΒΑΣΙΛΕΥΣ ΤΩΝ ΙΟΥΔΑΙΩΝ).” If the Romans intended crucifixion to deter crime, it would be useful to have the specificity of the crime publicized. This was a public event, and anyone could read it.
38 Then two bandits were crucified with him, one on his right and one on his left. Their presence illustrates the indignity to which crucifixion subjected the innocent Jesus. 39 Those who passed by derided him, shaking their heads 40 and saying, “You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God (Υἱὸςτοῦ Θεοῦ), come down from the cross.” 41 In the same way the chief priests also, along with the scribes and elders, were mocking him, saying, 42 “He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel (Βασιλεὺς Ἰσραήλ); let him come down from the cross now, and we will believe in him. 43 He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he wants to; for he said, ‘I am God’s Son.’ ” Crucifixion was 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 the death of Jesus.[54] Because of the arrogance of making himself equal to God, he was 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.[55] 44 The bandits who were crucified with him also taunted him in the same way. 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.[56]
Matthew using the text from Ps 69:21, which places in parallel thought poison for food and vinegar to drink, assumes that the gall was given to Jesus in mockery, rather than the wine given mercy.
Matthew sees Jesus here as the righteous sufferer mocked by the world. With his entire life, he has done precisely what scorn is 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.
Matthew 27:45-54 is the story of the last words of Jesus and his death. The source is Mark 15.33—41; Lk 23.44—49; Jn 19.28—30). 45 From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. 46 And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, referring to Psalm 22:1, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” 47 When some of the bystanders heard it, they said, “This man is calling for Elijah.” 48 At once one of them ran and got a sponge, filled it with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink. 49 But the others said, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save him.” 50 Then Jesus cried again with a loud voice and breathed his last. Matthew adds signs following the death of Jesus.
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 directly over their heads. He has conducted experiments with volunteers whose arms in simulated crucifixion spread out 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, we trust that this barbarism is now safely confined to the past.
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 Father 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 must reckon with the divine silence over human life and history. The cross is a reminder that we may hear only silence.[57] 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 the Father 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 not 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. Jesus affirms that God has abandoned him. The cross invites us to ponder a painful reality. Death could bring only silence, emptiness, nothingness, and loss.
We now have the account by Matthew of the effects of the crucifixion. All the phenomena described in the gospels represent a theological interpretation of the import of the death of Jesus, an interpretation in the language and imagery of apocalyptic. 51 At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, and the rocks were split. 52 The tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised. This wording suggests Ezekiel 37, which symbolizes the spiritual renewal of Israel. The use of the passive suggests that God is at work. The “saints” would be a large number. They wander through the city. 53 After his resurrection they came out of the tombs and entered the holy city and appeared to many. The eschatological events that have taken place in the death of Jesus are invisible to those who stand there mocking and to the disciples, who are not standing there; here they become visible to everyone as symbols. Death has been robbed of its power. Matthew returns to Mark for the following confession of faith. 54 Now when the centurion and those with him, who were keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were terrified and said, “Truly this man was God’s Son (Θεοῦ Υἱὸς)!”
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? The cross becomes the symbol of divine love. God is not simply fond of humanity. God has come to meet us under the burden and weight of all our sin and suffering in order to be there. The cross is the price God paid by entering human life and history in order to give humanity the pledge of victory. Such an act is genuine love.[58]
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 become helplessly entangled 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.
Matthew 27:55-61 is the story of the burial of Jesus. [59] Jewish sensitivity would have wanted the body down before the Sabbath.42 The source is Mark 15.42—47; Lk 23.50—56; Jn 19.38—42). 55Many women were also there, looking on from a distance; they had followed Jesus from Galilee and had provided for him. 56 Among them were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee. 57 When it was evening, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who was also a disciple of Jesus. 58 He went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus; then Pilate ordered it to be given to him. 59 So Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth 60 and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn in the rock. He then rolled a great stone to the door of the tomb and went away. 61 Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb.
Matthew 27:62-66 is the story of the guard at the grave. The source is material unique to Matthew. 62 The next day, that is, after the day of Preparation, which would have been the Jewish Sabbath, an unlikely day for the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered before Pilate 63 and said, “Sir, we remember what that impostor said while he was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise again.’ 64 Therefore command the tomb to be made secure until the third day; otherwise his disciples may go and steal him away, and tell the people, ‘He has been raised from the dead,’ and the last deception would be worse than the first.” 65 Pilate said to them, “You have a guard of soldiers; go, make it as secure as you can.” 66 So they went with the guard and made the tomb secure by sealing the stone. Most scholars agree this story is fiction or legend. The story creates enormous difficulties because it tries to do something that is impossible: to prove the resurrection of Jesus objectively to those who do not believe. In a certain sense, the modern discussion of the resurrection of Jesus is on a similar plane. What is now historically beyond dispute, however, is not the empty tomb but the fact that a series of people were convinced that they had seen the risen Lord. The result was that a group of terrified fugitives became a host of messengers who, disregarding all danger to themselves, proclaimed this risen Lord with total conviction and within a few decades won people from throughout the known world to be his followers. Further, an historical fact is that people charged Jesus’ disciples with having stolen. This charge Matthew wants to refute. Non-Christians considered how to account for the empty tomb. They suggested that the body had been stolen. Christians asked themselves how these others could have fallen into such an erroneous assertion and suggested that there was a Jewish conspiracy against belief in the resurrection of Jesus. This suggestion slowly turned into a rumor.
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. In our times of suffering and passion, we need to learn faithfulness and trust in the midst of the silence of God. The story of Jesus is not over. Our story is not over either. The cross is never the end of the story. Thus, our experience of suffering gives us greater empathy for those who are sick. Our moral failure gives us more compassion for brothers and sisters who fail the moment of their test. Broken relationships make us grateful for the broader Christian community. God is not silent forever. However, God was silent here, in these hours. We need to let that sink into our experience and reflection.
[1] Inspired by Thompson, Derek. "On repeat: Why people watch movies and shows over and over." The Atlantic Monthly Website, theatlantic.com. September 10, 2014.
[2] Eric Auerbach wrote Mimesis: The Representation of Reality in Western Literature, (pp. 37-38).
[3] —Oscar Wilde, from “The Ballad of Reading Gaol.” Full text: https://poets.org/poem/ballad-reading-gaol.
[4] Barth Church Dogmatics II.2 [35.4] 449-506.
[5] Jesus Seminar considered it fictional.
[6] Bultmann believes it is a cult legend formed in Hellenistic circles. Taylor believes the vocabulary, style, and ideas are Jewish. It is Palestinian in origin. For the Jesus Seminar, Christian elements overlay the story.
[7] Schnackenburg
[8] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 3, 208.
[9] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 295.
[10] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 3, 208.
[11] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 433.
[12] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 465
[13] Barth, Church Dogmatics III.2 [47.1] 502.
[14] Barth, Church Dogmatics III.2 [47.1] 502.
[15] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 283-6.
[16] Inspired by —Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov (Random House, 2003), 55.
[17] Inspired by —Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey (Zondervan, 2006), 71.
[18] 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.
[19] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 381.
[20] 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."
[21] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 381.
[22] Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.3 [71.5] 632.
[23] Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.3 [71.5] 632.
[24] Barth, Church Dogmatics II.2 [35.3] 439.
[25] The Jesus Seminar believes the Judean trial was most likely a fabrication. Jesus’ followers were not present. For them, the version in Thomas 71 is most primitive, but it is a fragment. In v. 62, none of Jesus’ disciples were there, thus, the words are the work of the writer. Note that the elements of parallel structure in Mark and John, such as Jesus to the high priest’s aule, nighttime interrogation of Jesus by one of the chief priests and abuse of him, and denials by Peter during the same night, are part of a Pre-Mk account of that night.
[26] A fundamental issue is the concept of imperium. In the life of Jesus, Antipas, the son of Herod the Great, was tetrarch from 4BC to AD 39 or king in popular parlance. Title of procurator and praefectus. The first part of this surmise has now been confirmed for Pilate by the discovery of an inscription in which he designates himself as praefectus Iudaeae. Their power to capital sentences is in dispute. All mention the Sanhedrin. Our history thus far has portrayed a Gerousia or Sanhedrin in Jerusalem dominated by the chief priests, with other priests, wealthy nobles or elders, and Pharisees. This assembly, administrative and judicial, had responsibility in religious and some secular matters. Before AD 6 the ruler had dealt with and through this body, at times being reproached by it over matters of justice, at times ordering it to accomplish what he wanted. Is there evidence that such a situation continued in the first century AD and thus in Jesus’ time. The situation just described certainly matches the picture given by the NT of the Sanhedrin procedures relating to Jesus, Stephen, and Paul. When we turn to Josephus, we find a similar picture of the Sanhedrin. A minority of scholars would go to the Mishna, though the material comes from a later period. In terms of the Sanhedrin membership and meeting place, the high priest convened Sanhedrin members who were available. Josephus does not invite us to think of a fixed body regularly in session. Still, were there members of the Sanhedrin in the sense of a list of known people who constituted it? Rather than assigned members, we may have to think of the expected attendance of representatives of particular groups when a Sanhedrin was called. In short, we cannot be sure where the Sanhedrin usually met at the time of Jesus’ death, but a place adjacent to rather than in the Temple may be more correct. What was the dominant influence on a Sanhedrin? In literature written before AD 100, when the Sanhedrin does sentence to death, there is little evidence of court-like procedures to protect the defendant. Nevertheless, as a quasi-legislative and executive body with interests that we would call religious and political hopelessly intertwined, a Sanhedrin when called often acted according to what seemed prudent and expeditious. The Gospels attribute the Sanhedrin action against Jesus largely to the chief priests, the elders, and the scribes. Presumably, some of these scribes would have been Pharisees, learned in traditions that applied the written Law often in more lenient way. Moving beyond these general issues, we encounter the contention that the Sanhedrin would have had to judge capital cases according to Pharisee rules. The theory of Morton Smith explaining this difference has gained considerable following: When Josephus wrote the later work, he was anxious to gain from the Romans a recognition of and commitment to incipient rabbinic authority in Palestine. This was the period after the destruction of Jerusalem during the Jewish Revolt when the rabbinic school at Jamnia was emerging as the major force in Palestinian Jewish life. Since to some extent the Pharisees were the intellectual forerunners of the rabbis, and had gained some favor with the Romans, Josephus desired to portray the Pharisees as having bee most influential for some two centuries. To return to our survey of Pharisee influence, even at the time of the Jewish Revolt in the late 60s, it is not clear that the Pharisees were a dominant voice, although they were active in political issues, especially in the person of Simon, son of Gamaliel I, who negotiated with the Romans for power. Their dominance in Palestine came only with Yohanan been Zakkai and the movement to Jamnia from Jerusalem; it was the son of Simon, Gamaliel II who became head of the Jamnia academy government, of the thought to have been recognized by the Roman with the proviso that there be no support for subversion. In terms of the trial of Jesus, we need to consider the main conflicts between the Gospel accounts and rabbinic law as found in the Mishna. It is likely that the Jews were not allowed to execute criminals. The procedure of the Jewish authorities in dealing with Jesus of Nazareth as described in the Gospels can scarcely be considered unusual; Josephus describes almost the same procedure thirty years later in dealing with Jesus son of Annanias. In Sanhedrin 43a, ancient Jews thought that their ancestors were involved in an even responsible for the death of Jesus. Celsus and Trypho both admit that Jews participated in the sentencing of Jesus. The Gospels all record such involvement only 30 years after the death of Jesus. Contrary to some modern scholars, one wonders how such a fiction could have been created. When the Jewish, Christian, and pagan evidence is assembled, the involvement of Jews in the death of Jesus approaches certainty. In a case concerning Galileans, Josephus reports that the procurator Tiberius Alexander crucified two sons of Judas, who had led an earlier revolt. In the case of Jesus son of Ananias who cried out against Jerusalem and the sanctuary, Jospehus reports that the Jewish leaders arrested him and handed him over to the procurator Albinus. The first case, which entailed no Jewish legal action against the crucified, exemplifies Roman treatment of political revolutionaries; the second case, which had strong Jewish involvement, exemplifies combined Jewish/Roman treatment of a religious figure who was a public concern. It is no accident that the treatment of Jesus of Nazareth described in the Gospels resembles the second rather than the first. Given the conclusion just reached, the issues of responsibility and guilt are inevitable. Reading the Gospels will convince most that at the least, although troublesome, Jesus was a sincere religious figure who taught truth and helped many, and that therefore crucifying him was a great injustice. Believers in the divinity of Jesus will have a magnified sense of injustice, which at times has been vocalized as deicide. Since by their very nature the Gospels are meant to persuade, the Passion Narrative will arouse resentment toward the perpetrators of the injustice. As for the Roman perpetrators, Rome ceased to function as a world power some fifteen hundred years ago, and so anger toward Pilate for having made a mockery of the vaunted Roman reverence for law and justice has no ongoing effects. Unto this day, however, the Jews as a people and Judaism as a people and Judaism as a religion have survived; and so the observation that factually Jewish authorities and some of the Jerusalem crowds had a role in the execution of Jesus - and execution that Christians and many non-Christians regard as unjust - has had an enduring effect. Note that religious people could have disliked Jesus. In Jesus’ time, such opposition often led to violence. There is plenty of evidence that Jews hated and killed one another over religious issues. The issue is one of responsibility, not guilt. The religious dispute with Jesus was an inner Jewish dispute.
[27] To the sparsity of the fewer than thirty references in three hundred years should be added 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.
[28] The basic historical question is: Was Jesus called the Messiah before his resurrection, and if so by whom and with what acceptance by him? I shall mention a number of theories but in evaluating them we must take three points into account. Two of these points are facts; the third is a very strong probability. First fact: after the resurrection of Jesus the followers of Jesus called him the Messiah with astounding frequency. Second fact: the scenes in the Gospels in which anyone addresses or acknowledges Jesus as the Messiah are very few. Complications mar the acceptance of that title by Jesus. Third probability: the Romans crucified Jesus on a charge involving his being or claiming to be the King of the Jews. During the lifetime of Jesus, some of his followers thought him to be the Messiah, that is, the expected anointed king of the House of David who would rule over the people of God. Jesus, confronted with this identification, responded ambivalently because associated with that role were features that he rejected, and also because God had yet to define the role that he would play in the kingdom beyond what he was already doing. Such an indefinite and ambivalent answer could have constituted the basis on which his enemies gave him over to the Romans as would-be king. However, the title of Jesus as Son of God as applied to Jesus before his death is unlikely. It was insight received by his followers with his resurrection.
[29] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 313-4.
[30] 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 whom God glorifies and makes judge. Geza Vermes points to the targumic evidence that “son of man” was used 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.
[31] Hidden behind an attribution to the early church is often the assumption that Jesus had no Christology even by way of reading the Scriptures to discern what anticipated the way he fit into the plan of God. Can one really think that credible? As we reflect upon the historicity of this verse, Jesus could have spoken of “the Son of Man” as his understanding of his role in the plan of God precisely when he faced hostile challenges reflecting the expectations of his contemporaries. Inevitably the Christian record would have crossed the t’s and dotted the I’s of the scriptural background of his words. Even though all of Mk 14:61-62 receives its phrasing in the Christian language of the 60s, there is reason to believe that we may be close to the mindset and style of Jesus himself.
[32] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 363-4.
[33] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 363-4.
[34] Moltmann, in the The Way of Jesus Christ, p. 161-2
[35] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 313-4.
[36] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 2, 337, 341.
[37] --Religion News Service, "Satirical paper's serious message," The Washington Post, October 6, 2001, B9.
[38] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 2, 340
[39] Haddon W. Robinson, "A Little Phrase for Losers," Christianity Today, October 26, 1992, 11).
[40] Some scholars consider that the idea that all the elders in Jerusalem became involved in a plot against Jesus as an exaggeration. However, we have enough external evidence that it is likely that Jesus was brought to Pilate. Raymond Brown analysis of the story. The different atmosphere in Judea/Palestine between the preAgrippa and postAgrippa periods must be emphasized. Too often the final years before the revolt with their seething discontent and zealot terrorism have been thought characteristic of th earlier period in which Jesus lived. This has facilitated the creation of the myth that Jesus was a political revolutionary, either the Che Guevara type gathering a band of armed followers, or the Gandhi type practicing and encouraging nonviolent rresistance. Such an impression has been furthered on the popular level by meida hype, since the view of Jesus as an advocate of Jewish or peasant liberation can be presented with enthusiasm and does not require radio, newspaper, or TV presenters to take a stance about Jesus’ religious claims that might offend viewers. There are fourteen times when lestes is used, half of which are in the passion narrative. Barnabas is one, while Jesus says he is not. Of major importance, however, is the fact that we have no evidence in the Roman prefecture of Jesus’ lifetime that lestai were equivalent to revolutionaries. There were charismatic leaders, messiahs, would-be kings, prophets and charlatans, bandits, sicarii, and zealots. Pilate may have had the prefect Sejanus as a patron. If so, he would have been more confident of Rome’s backing in 30-31, who died in 33 as a result of falling out of favor with the emperor Tiberius. Sejanus may have strongly antiJewish, as Philo reports. Pilate was involved in 25 with the Iconic Standards, in 39-31 with the issue of coins with pagan cultic symbols, in ? with the Aqueduct riot, in 28-29 with bloodied Galilean sacrifices, in 31 with the Golden shields, and in 36 with a Samaritan prophet. It would be a reasonable conclusion that the Herodian Palace on the western hill was the dwelling place of Pilate and other prefects, as over against the Fortress Antonia. The limited NT evidence suggests the same place where Pilate and Jesus meet. Christian tradition began in the twelfth century as the Fortress Atonia as the place where the trial took place. The archaeological evidence gathered earlier in this century also suggested the fortress. This is no longer the case. In terms of the Roman trial, we must be cautious about the NT reports. What the Gospels narrate has the goal of dramtizing the religious meaning of the condemnation of Jesus. More important, as might be expected from the character and goal of the Gospel accounts, practically no legal details of Pilate’s trial of Jesus are in fact reported. This is similar to what Josephus says about Roman trials. A general principle of maintaining order in a subject province rather than a specific law may have governed the treatment of a noncitizen such as Jesus. In retrospect, of course, one can find a relationship between that general principle and Roman laws against treason; but it would be wrong to imagine that the prefect consulted law books time he had to deal with a provincial accused of a crime. The presence of a hostile crowd is a frequent ingredient in accounts of a condemnatory trial.
[41] Jesus Seminar
[42] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 341.
[43] Some scholars consider this a product of Christian imagination long after the event. The thorns on his head appear in John, while Zech. 6:11 may have influenced the wording. In the time of Mark, believers could think of Jesus as a king, even though during his life he had no such aspirations. Scripture and standard protocol that goes with investing royalty suggested the theater and details. Although we might have difficulty determining such an event actually occurred, everything recorded here could have happened.
[44] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 343.
[45] John Keats
[46] Gerard S. Sloyan.
[47] Dennis Kinlaw, Let's Start With Jesus. Thanks to Rev. Jeff Coleman, The Highlands UMC, Gainesville, Georgia, for passing this on to us.
[48] John Calvin, Commentary on John 13:31.
[49] – Walter Wink, “The Gladsome Doctrine of Sin,” The Living Pulpit, October–December 1999
[50] Reinhold Niebuhr, The Nature and Destiny of Man, Vol. 1, pp. 186–188
[51] – Augustine, The Confessions, Book 2
[52] John Calvin (Institutes of the Christian Religion, Book I, Chapter 2, pp. 37–38.)
[53] (Ted Peters, Sin: Radical Evil in Soul and Society [Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1989]. pp. 205-206.)
[54] This makes it likely that Joseph of Armathea is an historical figure. The most difficult to verify for the historian would be the comments from the others who were crucified and of his friends and family.
[55] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 374.
[56] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 374.
[57] (Rahner, Hearer of the Word: Laying the Foundation for a Philosophy of Religion 1994, 1941), Part III.
[58] Inspired by Paul Scherer, (“The Love that God Defines!” in The Word God Sent, [New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1965], pp. 225–233.)
[59] Bultmann thinks the historical character of the account is clear. The Jesus Seminar says the burial of Jesus is historical. They think the burial by Joseph from Arimathea is probable. The reason is that a Christian fictional creation from nothing of a Jewish member of the Sanhedrin who does what is right is almost inexplicable, given the hostility in early Christian writings toward Jewish authorities responsible for the death of Jesus. Moreover, the fixed designation of such a character as “from Arimathea,” a town very difficult to identify and reminiscent of no scripture, makes its invention by the tradition unlikely. The clothing used at the burial is possible, but not verifiable.
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