Mark 12 18 - 44

then come unto him the Sadducees, 

which say there is no resurrection; 

and they asked him, saying,

“Master, Moses wrote unto us, 

if a man's brother die, 

and leave his wife behind him, 

and leave no children, 

that his brother should take his wife, 

and raise up seed unto his brother.

now there were seven brethren: 

and the first took a wife, and dying left no seed.

and the second took her, and died, neither left he any seed: 

and the third likewise.

and the seven had her, and left no seed: 

last of all the woman died also.

in the resurrection therefore, 

when they shall rise, 

whose wife shall she be of them? 

for the seven had her to wife.”

and Jesus answering said unto them, 

“do ye not therefore err, 

because ye know not the scriptures, 

neither the power of God?

for when they shall rise from the dead, 

they neither marry, nor are given in marriage; 

but are as the angels which are in heaven.

and as touching the dead, that they rise: 

have ye not read in the book of Moses, 

how in the bush God spake unto him, saying, 

I am the God of Abraham, 

and the God of Isaac, 

and the God of Jacob?

he is not the God of the dead, 

but the God of the living: 

ye therefore do greatly err.”

The Pharisees go away, and along come the Sadducees with a trick question of their own.

The Sadducees are more textually and theologically conservative than the Pharisees. They don’t believe in life after death, because the Torah doesn’t mention it. That is why they were so sad, you see. (Very Old Joke.)

It goes the way discussions of the afterlife always do. The skeptic raises a practical question about how a purely materialistic afterlife would work. How old will your granny be in heaven? Will there be cricket in heaven? Will there be scones and jam and tea? In that case, will there be toilets? The believer says that these are silly questions and he doesn’t believe in a purely materialistic afterlife either. The skeptic says he’s avoiding the question and everyone goes home equally dissatisfied. Unless the believer is an old-fashioned spiritualist. They really did believe that there is tea and crumpets on the other side.

Granted that remarriage is permitted — and even, in some cases, mandated — and granted that polygamy is forbidden; what happens when a person who has been married several times pops up out of his grave at the end of the world — who are they married to? Ha ha, gotcha!

Jesus, true to form, says that this is a silly question.

Jesus seems to have rejected the idea of a singular Resurrection — a future day on which all the dead will come back to life. But it isn’t very helpful to say that the dead are “like the angels” because we don’t have the faintest idea what angels are like. They are mysterious, frightening and unknowable. But perhaps “the dead are mysterious, frightening and unknowable” is an improvement over “the dead are going to resume their lives and carry on as before.”

How many of us, when we were small, thought it was literally the Christian teaching that angels are the spirits of the virtuous dead? That when you died you became an angel? Unless you were naughty, in which case you turned into a devil? I suppose that happened because someone at some point had misunderstood this passage. Certainly the popular press think that children who die violent deaths literally become angels. Or stars.

The Sadducees thought that only the text of the Torah was authoritative; they rejected the Pharisees’ additional teachings. It is important, therefore, that Jesus demonstrates that life-after-death is taken for granted in the core Jewish scriptures. But his textual proof is not one that most of us find very congenial. God says to Moses “I am the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob”; not “I was the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” He would not have referred to three historical characters in the present tense if he regarded them as dead and gone. Therefore, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were still living when God spoke to Moses; therefore people continue to be alive after their deaths.

Jesus' conclusion is a lot more interesting to us than his textual game-playing. He does not tell the Sadducees that they are wrong because there is additional teaching that they don’t know. He says they are wrong because they haven’t read their own texts carefully enough.

And something else as well. They don’t understand the power of God. The dunamis of God.

"You’d understand what the Bible said if you’d actually read it. But you also need to be fully dosed up with God’s miracle-juice. Studying texts isn’t only an intellectual process."

and one of the scribes came, 

and having heard them reasoning together, 

and perceiving that he had answered them well, asked him, 

“which is the first commandment of all?”

and Jesus answered him, 

“the first of all the commandments is 

hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord

and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart 

and with all thy soul, 

and with all thy mind, 

and with all thy strength

this is the first commandment.

and the second is like, namely this 

thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself

there is none other commandment greater than these.”

and the scribe said unto him, 

“well, Master, thou hast said the truth

for there is one God

and there is none other but he

and to love him with all the heart

and with all the understanding

and with all the soul

and with all the strength

and to love his neighbour as himself, 

is more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices”

and when Jesus saw that he answered discreetly

he said unto him

“thou art not far from the kingdom of God.” 

and no man after that durst ask him any question

Next in line is another lawyer. Maybe one of the same lawyers who was trying to catch Jesus out at the beginning. Or maybe a different lawyer. But he is speaking on his own behalf because he’s impressed at the way Jesus has wriggled out of the traps that have been set for him so far today.

He asks Jesus a very straight question, and Jesus gives him a very straight answer.

It's not a hard or a controversial question. I wonder if the Scribe is testing Jesus’s orthodoxy: asking him the one question a good Jew would never get wrong. A bit like asking a witch to recite the Lord’s Prayer. A good Jew recites the shema several times a day and hopes to repeat it on his death bed. Deuteronomy 6:

“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.”

Jesus puts this alongside a quote from that horrible book of Leviticus that some people want to rip out of the Bible:

“You must not hate your brother in your heart. You must surely reprove your fellow citizen so that you do not incur sin on account of him. You must not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you must love your neighbour as yourself. I am the Lord.”

The Scribe seems to take this as a perfectly orthodox answer. But still, there is apparently something troubling about it, because it brings the conversation to an end.

Jesus is in the temple. The temple is where sacrifices happen. Sacrifices are good. Moses told everyone to make sacrifices. In three days the biggest sacrifice of the year will happen.

And Jesus and the Scribe are in agreement. The temple is good. Loving your neighbour is better. Loving God is best of all.

Perhaps the lawyer is a bit relieved. Before, when people were trying to catch him out, Jesus was on the defensive. But when he is asked a sincere question about what he believes there is nothing frightening about him at all.

And so of course Jesus pulls the rug out from under him.

— You’ve been talking against the Priests and the Temple. What do you think is the most important law?

— Yes: I agree with the implication of your question. The most important law is the one which tells us to love God. But you forgot to ask me what the second most important law is. And the second most important law is to love everyone else in the whole wide world. Have you ultra-religious people been forgetting that?

— Not at all. As a professional Torah interpreter I fully agree with you. Hold onto Monotheism above all; and then be kind to everyone else in the universe. That is the main thing. The temple is only secondary to that.

— Well done. You have almost understood it.

It is the “almost” which is the sucker punch. Jesus told the rich man who had perfectly kept the ten commandments that he still lacked something. Now he is telling the sincere legal interpretor that he is pretty close to the kingdom of God; but he isn’t in there yet.

Jesus is systematically alienating absolutely everyone; with, I suspect, an infuriating twinkle in his eyes.

and Jesus answered 

and said, while he taught in the temple, 

“How say the scribes that Christ is the Son of David? 

For David himself said by the Holy Ghost,

The Lord said to my Lord

Sit thou on my right hand

till I make thine enemies thy footstool

David therefore himself calleth him Lord 

and whence is he then his son?” 

and the common people heard him gladly. 

Jesus now starts answering questions which no-one has thought to ask him. The text almost literally says this. “After the conversation with the lawyer, no-one dared asked Jesus any more questions. And so he replied….”

Having had what seems to be an amiable and sensible exchange with the Scribe, he proceeds to pick a fight with him over a very obscure bit of textual word-play.

The Old Testament uses two words for God. Jehovah is God’s actual personal name and can only be used in holy contexts. Adonai just means Lord or Boss or Master and can be used more casually. Our Bible, slightly confusingly, represents the divine name as the upper case LORD.

Psalm 113 in English says “The LORD says to my Lord, sit here at my right hand….” — “Jehovah said to Adonai.” Christians would love this to mean “God asked God to sit down next to him” because that would mean that the idea of the Holy Trinity already existed a thousand years before they made it up. But it probably means no more than “God said to the Boss….” The Psalm was originally a coronation hymn, sung by a choir to David or one of his successors. “The LORD (i.e God) said to my Lord (i.e the King): sit down next to me.” But it was often taken as being David himself talking about a King who would arise in the future — the Messiah. Jehovah said to Adonai, take the seat of honour. God said to the Messiah, sit at my right hand.

It’s easy enough to see how Jesus’s word-play works, although it doesn’t go very well into modern English. David is calling the Messiah “my Lord”. Official teaching is that the Messiah is David’s “son”. Son means “descendent” but it could be taken to mean “follower”. How can the Messiah be David’s follower if David calls him Lord? “The Messiah can’t be 'Sir' and also 'Sonny-boy', can he?”

It would be hard to derive a general rule or law from this. There are, after all, lots of examples in scripture of sons who are more impressive than their parents. You wouldn’t say that David can’t literally have been the son of Jesse because Jesse was a nobody and David was King. You might just as well say that Jacob can’t be the founder of Israel because his father Isaac was such a minor figure. But we are told that Jesus’ legal fireworks play well with the crowd.

Why does Jesus make this particular argument at this time? Is Jesus trying to take a step back from the crowds shouting “Son of David!” at him. "Oh, but Son of David doesn’t necessarily mean Messiah — let me demonstrate…" Or is he trying to focus everyone’s mind on the primary source of his authority? "Yes, twenty eight generations back, I do have royal blood in me. But that’s not what gives me the right to overturn the temple."

Matthew and Luke, of course, tell stories in which Jesus is literally descended from David, through his earth-father Joseph. But Mark doesn’t know any stories about Jesus’ ancestry. Or if he does he doesn’t think they are worth retelling. The people of Nazareth are surprised that Jesus is preaching and performing miracles. His family think he has gone crazy. They say “Isn’t this this carpenter’s son?” They don’t say “All that royal blood has gone to his head.”

So it seems to me that Mark is countering a potential objection to his thesis.

“You say that Jesus is the Messiah” says the sceptical reader “But he can’t be, because he doesn’t have the right pedigree.”

“But it doesn’t go by who your Dad was” replies Mark. “Jesus said that himself.”

and he said unto them in his doctrine, 

“beware of the scribes, which love to go in long clothing, 

and love salutations in the marketplaces, 

and the chief seats in the synagogues, 

and the uppermost rooms at feasts 

which devour widows' houses, 

and for a pretence make long prayers 

these shall receive greater damnation”

and Jesus sat over against the treasury, 

and beheld how the people cast money into the treasury: 

and many that were rich cast in much. 

and there came a certain poor widow, 

and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing. 

and he called unto him his disciples 

and saith unto them 

“verily I say unto you, 

that this poor widow hath cast more in, 

than all they which have cast into the treasury: 

for all they did cast in of their abundance; 

but she of her want did cast in all that she had, 

even all her living”

Everyone knows this story. It is a sweet story. It is a story with a perfectly obvious meaning. It is the mirror-image of the story about the rich man and the camel. The rich man couldn’t get into heaven unless he gave all his possessions to the poor. Well, here is a poor person: and she really has given away everything she has. So she is definitely going to get into the kingdom.

When Eliza Doolittle says that she will pay a shilling for elocution lessons, Prof Higgins says that her offer is the equivalent of hundreds of pounds from one of his millionarie clients.

So, what does this prove? That it’s easier to give stuff away if you haven’t got very much? But if it’s easy for the poor, why is it virtuous for them?

All right then: perhaps it was just as hard for the woman to put all her money in the pot than it would have been for the rich man to put all his millions in? So why does she get the brownie points and he doesn’t?

Okay: so Jesus must be saying that charity is valuable as a spiritual practice. Putting two farthings in the collection tray is good, not because it will enrich the recipient, but because it will impoverish the donor. It would make more economic sense for the widow to hang onto the money and use it to feed her children. And it would have been possible for her to do this precisely because the rich were supporting the temple with money that they could perfectly well afford. The temple didn’t need her quarter of a penny. So the message is that we should not envisage charity as being an economic transaction.

Did Jesus think that it was the duty of the rich to take care of the poor? Then he was a socialist, or worse, a liberal.

Did Jesus think that we needed to change society so there weren’t any more poor people? Then he was a revolutionary socialist.

Did Jesus think that we should imagine no possessions, all things in common, all people one? Then he was a communist

But perhaps Jesus was neither a liberal, nor a socialist, nor a communist. Perhaps he thought that Christians should stay out of politics. The question about whether or not Jesus preached a social message is a core fault line of the culture wars. You can read this passage which ever way you like.

What would happen if we turned our attention away from the poor widow, and looked at the rich people instead? What would happen if Jesus didn’t mean “The widows copper coins are worth much more than the rich people’s silver and gold.” What if he meant “The rich people’s fifty pound notes are even more worthless than the old lady’s loose change?”

A big gift from a rich person is worth much less than a small gift from a rich person. Even Henry Higgins could see that. Jesus is using an everyday example to demonstrate a general principle.

“Remember what I said about small things being big? There is a concrete example that will help you visualize it. Losers are winners. Children are grown ups. Servants are bosses. And small gifts are big ones. The times they are a changin’”

FUN FACT:

I am just about old enough to remember the older English currency, with shillings, pennies and hapennies, but I never saw a farthing, which was worth one quarter of a penny. It had a picture of a wren on it, because it was the smallest coin. If a mite is worth half a farthing then it is very small change indeed. One eighth of a penny, a bit more than one two-thousandth part of an old pound.

It’s not actually quite as bad as that. The coin the old lady puts in the collection was actually a lepton.

The basic unit of currency is an aes; a denarius was originally ten aes — but was actually worth sixteen. A quadran was a quarter of an aes; a lepton was half a quadran. Thus by a simple arithmetical process you’ll easily discover that there are a hundred and twenty eight leptons in a denarius; and that two leptons is worth one sixty fourth part of a day’s pay.

About a pound in todays money. Which is what I generally put in the collection plate myself.

If you are enjoying my essays, please consider supporting me on Patreon (by pledging $1 for each essay)


Alternatively please drop a lepton in the tip jar.

Mark 11 27-33 + Mark 12 1-17

and they come again to Jerusalem:
and as he was walking in the temple
there come to him the chief priests,
and the scribes, and the elders,
and say unto him,
“by what authority doest thou these things?
and who gave thee this authority to do these things?”
and Jesus answered and said unto them,
“I will also ask of you one question,
and answer me,
and I will tell you by what authority I do these things
the baptism of John,
was it from heaven, or of men?
answer me.”
and they reasoned with themselves, saying,
"if we shall say,
from heaven; he will say,
why then did ye not believe him?
but if we shall say, of men...”"
they feared the people
for all men counted John,
that he was a prophet indeed.
and they answered and said unto Jesus,
“we cannot tell”
and Jesus answering saith unto them,
“neither do I tell you by what authority I do these things”

It’s Tuesday morning. For the third time since he arrived in Jerusalem, Jesus goes to the temple. Three different sets of religious leaders come and try to trap him. The story is now unambiguously about Jesus versus the Priests — God against Religion — and it is rushing towards its terrible climax.

First come the temple authorities: the chief priests, the scribes and the elders: the interpretors of the law, and the custodians of the temple cult. They challenge Jesus on the question which has been bugging them since that first Saturday in Capernaum. What right does Jesus have to ride into Jerusalem proclaiming himself the true successor to David? What right does he have to suspend the normal running of the temple? Who does he think he is?

They ask him the same question twice in different words “By what authority these things are you doing and who gave you the authority these things you should do?” People don’t talk in poetic parallelism in real life any more than they talk in rhyming couplets. Mark is recounting events that have already taken on the form of a story.

Jesus won’t give them a straight answer. He uses the same kind of “heads I win, tails you lose” trick that the Pharisees played on him last week. The Pharisees tried to put Jesus in a position where he had to either criticise the King or antagonise the people. Jesus invites the Priests to either accept the authority of John the Baptist, or reject it.

But John is still an incendiary figure. Practically everyone in town went and got baptised by him; practically everyone still believes he was a prophet. Lots of people think that Jesus himself is John. Deny John’s baptism, and you insult the whole of Jerusalem. Affirm it, and you are more or less calling the King a murderer.

They won’t give Jesus an answer; he won’t give them an answer. Stalemate.

We know the pattern. Having deftly avoided the first trap, Jesus voluntarily walks into a much bigger one.

“If you won’t answer my question” he says “I won’t answer yours. I will tell you a story instead. Once upon a time, there was a vineyard….”

and he began to speak unto them by parables
“a certain man planted a vineyard
and set an hedge about it
and digged a place for the winefat
and built a tower
and let it out to husbandmen
and went into a far country.
and at the season he sent to the husbandmen a servant,
that he might receive from the husbandmen of the fruit of the vineyard.
and they caught him,
and beat him,
and sent him away empty.
and again he sent unto them another servant;
and at him they cast stones,
and wounded him in the head,
and sent him away shamefully handled.
and again he sent another;
and him they killed,
and many others;
beating some,
and killing some.
having yet therefore one son,
his wellbeloved,
he sent him also last unto them, saying,
they will reverence my son.
but those husbandmen said among themselves,
this is the heir; come, let us kill him,
and the inheritance shall be ours
and they took him,
and killed him,
and cast him out of the vineyard.
what shall therefore the lord of the vineyard do?
he will come and destroy the husbandmen,
and will give the vineyard unto others.
and have ye not read this scripture;
the stone which the builders rejected is become the head of the corner:
this was the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes?"
and they sought to lay hold on him,
but feared the people:
for they knew that he had spoken the parable against them:
and they left him,
and went their way.

Mark has told us that Jesus’ parables are deliberately cryptic, and that even the disciples often miss the point. But this one is crystal-clear. Most of the parables are analogies which illustrate a single precept. This one (like the parable of the foolish sower) is a full-on allegory. The vineyard is Israel. The owner of the vineyard is God. The tenants are the priests. The messengers are the prophets. The owner’s son is… Well, perhaps you can work that bit out for yourself?

There is an element of plausible deniability in the story. Jesus doesn’t say in so many words that the priesthood is going to be destroyed. He has merely asked what you would expect a landlord to do to tenants who murder the rent collectors.

Some people persist in saying that Mark’s Jesus is simply a reforming Rabbi who wants to encourage the Jews of his day to be a bit better at Jewing. But that removes the whole force of the story. Jesus sets himself against the Priests and against the Temple. He hasn’t been in the temple five minutes before he begins breaking things. When the Priests ask him what he thinks he is doing, he tells them that they only have power because God has leant it to them. He tells them that Prophets are to Priests as messengers from the landlord are to the rent-paying tenants. He tells them that he himself is to the Prophets as the landlord’s son is to the rent-collectors. And he says that the whole system is going to end. The landlord is taking back the vineyard. The fig tree is going to wither. No more temple. No more priests.

“The stone which the builders rejected as worthless turned out to be the most important of all”. This is very similar to what he was telling the disciples about authority in Perea. The last is first, the servant is boss, the children are grown ups, the degraded one is king. The vital part of the building was the bit that was retrieved from the rubbish dump. You don’t think I’m anything very special? That’s proof that I’m the boss.

It is another quote from Psalm 114, the Psalm about the king and the sacrifice coming into the city through the gates and everyone shouting “Hosana” at them. That hymn is still in everyone’s mind.

and they send unto him certain of the Pharisees
and of the Herodians
to catch him in his words.
and when they were come,
they say unto him,
“Master, we know that thou art true,
and carest for no man:
for thou regardest not the person of men,
but teachest the way of God in truth:
is it lawful to give tribute to Caesar, or not?
shall we give, or shall we not give?”
but he, knowing their hypocrisy, said unto them,
“Why tempt ye me?
bring me a penny,
that I may see it.
and they brought it.
and he saith unto them,
whose is this image and superscription?
and they said unto him, Caesar’s.”
and Jesus answering said unto them,
“render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's,
and to God the things that are God’s.”
And they marvelled at him.

Pharisees and Herodians are members of political and religious factions outside the priesthood. Both groups are actively hoping for a Messiah, which they take to mean a restored Jewish monarchy. The Pharisees want a literal descendent of David on the throne; the Herodians more realistically want Big Herod’s descendents in charge of a reunited kingdom. Niether of them think much of the emperor.

Our Bible uses “penny” to mean “coin”: back in chapter 6 we were told that it would take more than two hundred pennies to cater for a crowd of five thousand. A “penny” is actually a Roman denarius. It’s a silver coin worth about a day’s wages and it has a picture of Augustus on it. Very probably this is why there were money changers in the temple to start with: good Jews weren’t supposed to put idolatrous currency in the collection plate.

So the Priest’s messenger boys think they have Jesus trapped. “We know you always give straight answers to straight questions. And here we are in God’s actual house. So tell us straight. What do you think of Ceasar?”

It’s a great trick question. Accept the Emperor’s authority and become an idolator in the eyes of your more pious compatriots. Or reject it and become a rebel in the eyes of Rome.

Everyone remembers Jesus’ answer: “Render unto Ceasar the things which are Ceasar’s; render unto God the things which are God’s.”

The word “render” is apo-didomi, “give back”. Our translators have to add a lot of words to get the saying to fit into English. “Ta Kaisaros” means “the of-Ceasar”. Give back Ceasar’s to Ceasar; give back God’s to God.

People have a lovely time over-interpreting this passage. Jesus is making a very subtle distinction between church and state. He is giving us a template which will allow us to answer hard questions, like whether Christians should be conscientious objectors in a period of conscription, and whether the Church ought to lobby the government to make shopkeepers observe the sabbath.

Well, maybe. But we should be very careful of making “render unto Ceasar” a slogan to justify whichever political stance we were going to take in any case. The point of the story is that Jesus wouldn’t engage in a debate about the emperor’s authority. Who you pay taxes to has nothing to do with the case. It’s Ceasar’s own money anyway.

When the Priests challenge Jesus authority, he lets rip with a parable which insinuates that the Priesthood and the Temple are going to come to an end. When the Heroidans ask him about who should be King, he more or less says “I am not going to answer that. It is a silly question.”

If you are enjoying my essays, please consider supporting me on Patreon (by pledging $1 for each essay)

Patreon supporters have access to the full e-book version of this essay, with additional material. 

Alternatively  please buy me a "coffee" (by dropping £3 in the tip jar)

Mark 11 11-26

and Jesus entered into Jerusalem,
and into the temple:
and when he had looked round about upon all things
and now the eventide was come
he went out unto Bethany with the twelve

Jesus makes a big, pointed, dramatic entry to Jerusalem. He heads for the temple. It is the first thing he does. It’s a big deal. The temple is where God lives.

But nothing happens. He just looks round. And then heads back to Bethany with his inner circle.

Bethany has now taken the place of Capernaum. It is where Jesus is staying: a temporary home, a mile or so from Jerusalem. I've heard lots of sentimental sermons about the place; but Mark doesn't say anything about it. He just takes it for granted. He doesn't even say who Jesus is staying with.

QUESTION: Is Jesus still on his donkey, or as he sent it back to Bethphage with a thank you note? Are the rest of his entourage — the generality of students and hangers-on — also lodging at Bethany? Or do they stay in the city?

and on the morrow,
when they were come from Bethany
he was hungry
and seeing a fig tree afar off
having leaves
he came,
if haply he might find any thing thereon
and when he came to it
he found nothing but leaves;
for the time of figs was not yet
and Jesus answered
and said unto it,
“no man eat fruit of thee hereafter for ever”
and his disciples heard it

and they come to Jerusalem
and Jesus went into the temple
and began to cast out them that sold and bought in the temple
and overthrew the tables of the moneychangers
and the seats of them that sold doves
and would not suffer that any man should carry any vessel through the temple
and he taught, saying unto them
“is it not written,
my house shall be called of all nations the house of prayer?
but ye have made it a den of thieves”
and the scribes and chief priests heard it
and sought how they might destroy him
for they feared him,
because all the people was astonished at his doctrine

and when even was come, he went out of the city.
and in the morning,
as they passed by,
they saw the fig tree dried up from the roots.
and Peter calling to remembrance saith unto him,
“master, behold, the fig tree which thou cursedst is withered away"

This is a strange story. It’s the only time Jesus does a malicious miracle; a miracle of destruction. But it also seems to be an accidental miracle. Jesus doesn't get cross and kill a tree. The tree withers away and dies because Jesus is cross with it. 

It reminds me of some of the folk-tales and apocryphal gospels. The midwife tries to touch the Virgin Mary inappropriately and her hand drops off. Mary spanks the boy Jesus with a willow switch and all the willow trees rot. Jesus says something casual to a tree and the tree shrivels up. It’s like: nature is an over-keen servant, jumping around and doing what the boss says without checking if he really means it. Jesus may bless little children and heal blind people. But he is still fundamentally scary. The last thing you want is for him to look on you disapprovingly.

Mark quite often wraps one story around another, so that the outer story sheds light on the inner one. Scholars call this “intercalation” or, if no-one is listening, “Markan sandwiches.” This is a good example. The story of Jesus in the temple is wrapped around the story of Jesus and the fig tree. 

The inference is clear enough. Jesus was cross with the tree, but he was even more cross with the temple. The tree had it coming; so does the temple. The present system is going to wither away and die. Because it is not producing any fruit.

What is Jesus' problem with the temple? We are inclined to see a lot of things in the passage which are not there. Jesus is angry because the money-changers are swindling people. Jesus is angry because the animal-sellers are over-charging. Jesus is annoyed by the whole idea of trade in such a holy place. The 1972 version of  Jesus Christ Superstar memorably shows traders selling souvenirs and postcards, like a modern cathedral gift shop. The 2000 version, less subtly, depicts a temple full of gangsters, drug-dealers and lap-dancers.

You go to the temple in order to make a sacrifice: that is what a temple is for. When Jesus healed the leper, he told him to go to the priest and perform the ritual which Moses laid down: a ritual which involved ceremonially killing a bird. If you are going to do the ritual, someone has to sell you the bird. There were rules about what kind of currency you could use to make your donations and pay your temple tithe. (It was inappropriate to give God gifts in a coinage that had a picture of the allegedly divine Emperor on them.) So there had to be people exchanging secular coins for sacred ones. When Jesus overturns the tables he is saying, on some level — no more sacrifices. No more tax. No more ritual. No more temple.

When I imagine this scene, I imagine Jesus making a grand, violent gesture — making a lot of noise and shouting a dreadful warning at the tradesmen as he does so. But Mark seems to say that, after telling the traders to leave, he sits down and spends all day teaching (giving out doctrine) to anyone who will listen. He takes two Old Testament prophecies and puts them side by side. Isaiah said that in the future everyone in the world would accept the God of Israel, and everyone in the world would come to Jerusalem to pray in his temple. But Jeremiah said that the present-day temple was full of hypocrisy — people going through the motions of performing ceremonies but ignoring the Ten Commandments and the moral law. “This Temple isn’t what Isaiah said it would become” says Jesus “It is still what Jeremiah said it was.”

The teaching session follows a familiar pattern. Jesus preaches. The people listening are dumbfounded. And the priests want to kill him. It is hard to see why complaining that dove-salesmen are over-charging would make the priesthood murderous. But if Jesus is announcing or foretelling the end of temples and priests, you can see why things might escalate.

Jesus is angry with the temple. The chief priests and lawyers want to kill him. And when he gets home, the fig tree he was angry with that morning is already dead.

and Jesus answering saith unto them
“have faith in God.
for verily I say unto you
that whosoever shall say unto this mountain
be thou removed
and be thou cast into the sea
and shall not doubt in his heart,
but shall believe that those things which he saith shall come to pass
he shall have whatsoever he saith.
therefore I say unto you, what things soever ye desire,
when ye pray,
believe that ye receive them,
and ye shall have them
and when ye stand praying, forgive,
if ye have ought against any:
that your Father also which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.
but if ye do not forgive

neither will your Father which is in heaven forgive your trespasses”

The disciples are surprised by the dead fig tree. Jesus takes this to be a teachable moment. But he doesn’t talk about priests or temples or how the fig-tree arguably symbolises Israel: he makes a general point about praying. 

You are impressed because I told a fig-tree to wither? says Jesus. But if you called on the power of God you ought to be able to tell the Mount of Olives to slide all the way back to Galilee. 

Evangelicals always say that “faith” does not mean intellectual assent but whole-hearted trust. Jesus didn't tell the father of the deaf-mute that his son would be healed if he somehow did a mental conjuring trick and persuaded himself that this impossible thing was possible after all. He meant that his son would be healed if he trusted in the dunamis of God. 

But what he is talking about here does look a lot like intellectual belief. He doesn’t seem to be saying “If you have wholehearted trust in God you could in theory order the landscape around.” He seems to be saying “If you believe that you are going to get the particular thing which you ask God for then you will get it, up to and including an earthquake.” (It may even be that Jesus didn’t so much say “when you ask for something, believe that you will receive it” as “when you ask for something, believe that you have received it.”) 

This is an incredibly problematic passage. In the first place, it isn't true. Christians don't order mountains around. Very pious people make sincere prayers and their prayers aren't answered. And we are only a few chapters away from Jesus himself asking God for something very important and not getting it.

Jesus has spoken several times about people’s need to be forgiven by God; and he has antagonised the Pharisees by claiming that he himself can forgive sins. This is, so far as I can see, the first time he has talked about people needing to forgive each other.

Is this merely an “aside”? Is Jesus saying “God will give you anything you pray for. And incidentally, when you are praying for things, remember to forgive anyone you have a grudge against.”

Or are the two things connected? You can use the power of God to cause an earthquake. You really can. The only conditions are that you have to totally believe that the earthquake has already happened. And you have to harbour no ill-will or grudge against anyone who has ever harmed you in your whole life.

Total faith. And perfect forgiveness. That's a pretty high bar you have to clear before you can make the miracle work. 

That is why you see so few Christian induced landslips.

I'm Andrew. I like God, Doctor Who, Star Wars, Wagner, folk-music and Spider-Man, not necessarily in that order. I have no political opinions of any kind.

Read my arts/virus diary.

If you are enjoying my essays, please consider supporting me on Patreon (by pledging $1 for each essay)

Mark 10: 46-52 + 11 :1-10

and they came to Jericho:
and as he went out of Jericho
with his disciples and a great number of people,
blind Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus,
sat by the highway side begging.
and when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth,
he began to cry out, and say,
“Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me”
and many charged him that he should hold his peace:
but he cried the more a great deal,
“thou son of David, have mercy on me”
and Jesus stood still,
and commanded him to be called.
and they call the blind man,
saying unto him,
“be of good comfort, rise; he calleth thee”
and he, casting away his garment, rose,
and came to Jesus.
and Jesus answered and said unto him,
“what wilt thou that I should do unto thee?”
The blind man said unto him,
“Lord, that I might receive my sight.”
and Jesus said unto him,
“go thy way;
thy faith hath made thee whole”
and immediately he received his sight,
and followed Jesus in the way

Jesus leaves Perea and crosses the Jordan. He passes through Jericho without incident.

There is another story about a man who crossed the Jordan and came to Jericho. He fit a battle there, and the walls came tumbling down. Either Mark doesn’t see the symbolism, or he thinks it is too obvious to be worth pointing out.

This is only the second time that Jesus has been called Jesus of Nazareth. The first time was when he came south to be baptised by John. This makes sense. You only call him "of Nazareth" when he isn't in Nazareth any more. 

We have one more healing. Another blind man. Unusually, we know his name: he’s the son of Timeus.

Four hundred years before Jesus, Socrates had a long conversation with a man named Timeus. They talked about the true nature of the universe. Plato wrote it up in a book. It would be a massive stretch to suppose that Mark knew anything about it.

Why are all these people telling Bar-Timeus to be quiet? Don’t people flock to Jesus for healing wherever he goes?

I once heard a very good sermon. It’s those hard-hearted disciples again. The same ones who didn’t want the little children to trouble Jesus; they don’t want the blind beggar to trouble him either. But as soon as Jesus takes an interest, they patronisingly change their tune. “Cheer up old chap, he’s seen you!” And how very true that is, even today. The people who say that they are Jesus’ followers aren’t very interested in disabled people and poor people and homeless people as a general rule. But if one of them turns up in church, suddenly, we’re all over them.

Well, maybe. But I don't believe the disciples were saying “Don’t ask Jesus to heal you. If there’s one thing we know about Jesus, it’s that he never heals blind people!” I think it is much more likely that what they were saying was “Pipe down. Stop making so much noise.”

Like Peter, Bar-Timeus has worked out who Jesus is. Unlike Peter, he is shouting it from the rooftops. Jesus spent the first half of the book telling demons and evil spirits to hold their peace. No-one can make this blind man shut up.

No-one has called Jesus the Son of David before. There is no story in Mark which suggests that he has a royal bloodline. But Son of David means rightful king. It’s a political challenge. Bar-Timeus might just as well be shouting “Romani ite domen”.

Why does he cast away his garment before he comes to Jesus? There are plenty of expository ideas. He is poor. Unlike the rich man, he is quite willing to throw away his one material possession before entering the Kingdom. In the very early church a baptism was an actual bath so candidates were naked. (The Romans didn’t mind this kind of thing as much as we would.) It has something to do with Jesus’ teaching about patching new clothes with old cloth; Bar-Timeus is throwing off the old robes of Judaism so he can wear the new robes of Christianity. It was a hot day. It was a big heavy blanket. He couldn’t have walked very far in it. Jesus has said that following him will be like an execution and crucifixion victims would have had their clothes removed.

I don’t find any of this entirely convincing. There is nothing particularly unlikely about a beggar dumping his blanket before being introduced to the King. But why does Mark think this one detail worth mentioning?

and when they came nigh to Jerusalem,
unto Bethphage and Bethany
at the mount of Olives
he sendeth forth two of his disciples,
and saith unto them,
"go your way into the village over against you:
and as soon as ye be entered into it,
ye shall find a colt tied,
whereon never man sat; 

loose him,
and bring him
and if any man say unto you,
‘why do ye this?’
say ye that the Lord hath need of him
and straightway he will send him hither”
and they went their way,
and found the colt tied by the door without
in a place where two ways met;
and they loose him.
and certain of them that stood there said unto them,
“what do ye, loosing the colt?”
and they said unto them even as Jesus had commanded:
and they let them go.
and they brought the colt to Jesus,
and cast their garments on him;
and he sat upon him.
and many spread their garments in the way
and others cut down branches off the trees,
and strawed them in the way.
and they that went before, 

and they that followed,
cried, saying,
“hosanna
blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord:
blessed be the kingdom of our father David,
that cometh in the name of the Lord
hosanna in the highest”

And now we come to the climax of the story: the stories which everyone knows; the stories which define the liturgical year. We’ve all waved palm branches (made out of green cartridge paper) in Sunday School or carried palm crosses (made in Africa) home from church. We can hear "all glory, laud and honour" and "ride on, ride on in majesty" and “hey zana ho zana hi” much more clearly than we can hear Mark’s words.

Mark gives us a little build-up to the main event. Up to now Jesus has walked everywhere. He is never said to own or borrow a horse or a camel; the fact that he criss-crosses the lake in Peter’s boat speaks against it. But this story about Jesus sending the disciples ahead doesn’t really tell us anything.

There are lots of puzzling incidental details. Why does it matter that no-one has ridden on this particular donkey before? What difference does it make that the disciples found it at a cross-roads? Was "the Lord needs it" an agreed code-word? Were the donkey wranglers in the business of lending animals to important folk? Or are we to envisage the disciples asking with a Jedi-style wave of the hand?

It doesn't really matter. Why did Jesus ride into Jerusalem on a donkey? Because his disciples had fetched him one. Why did he send his disciples to fetch him a donkey? So he could ride into Jerusalem on it.

Six hundred years before Jesus, a man named Zechariah had written a poem in which the true king of Jerusalem rides into the city on a donkey. How could he possibly have known? What are the chances?(One in ten to the seventeenth, if we trust Josh McDowell, which we really, really, shouldn’t.)

But this isn’t a co-incidence. Jesus has planned it. If he is fulfilling a prophecy, he is doing so consciously. He has taken the trouble to obtain a donkey in order to make it clear that he self-identifies as Zechariah’s king. Now Bar-Timeus has shouted it out there is no longer any question of keeping it secret.

Jesus has brought a cadre of students with him from Galilee, and presumably has picked up some more in Perea. As he rides into the city, they start shouting that King David’s kingdom is going to be restored. That is what “messiah” means to them.

We were told that Bar-Timeus “cast his garment off” before Jesus restored his eyesight. Jesus followers are “casting their garments on him.” People tearing off their clothes is evidently now part-and-parcel of a public appearance by Jesus. Mark doesn’t appear to say that people waved palm branches at Jesus; he says that they threw clothes and leaves in front of him for the donkey to walk on.

When a King comes to town riding on a beast of burden rather than on a war-horse, he is probably signifying that he comes in peace. But that doesn’t mean that he is a hippy king or that from how on there won’t be any more soldiers. Peace is good because it comes at the end of a war. Zechariah’s king was proclaiming peace because he had just defeated all his enemies.

Hosana is right up there with kumbyah as a word everyone uses but no-one knows the meaning of. There was a children’s Bible that we used sometimes in Sunday School which translated it as Hurrah!

It’s a Hebrew word: yasha na. Yasha means “deliver” or “save”. Na is a word you add to another word to turn it into a request. We are told that it means “we pray” but our English Bible most often translates it simply as “please”. (“Say na my sister you are” = “please say you are my sister”.)

So when Jesus rode into Jerusalem, his followers were shouting “Deliver us, please!”

As everyone knows, the name Jesus is an anglicisation of Yehoushua. It’s the same name as the man who fought the battle at Jericho after the Israelites had crossed the wilderness. It comes from YHWH-yasha: God-will-deliver. So the disciples are coming very close to shouting Jesus’ name at him: YHWH-yasha, yasha na! Deliverer, deliver us! Avenge us, Avenger!

Some people think that The Highest is a circumlocution for God, so "Hosana in The Highest" means something like "Save us, highest one, please!" But surely it makes more sense as an intensifier? Hosana in the highest! Hosana as big as it can get! Ultimate Hosana!

That word, hosana, yasha-na, turns up in one other place in the Bible, in Psalm 118.

save now, I beseech thee, o Lord

o Lord, I beseech thee, send now prosperity.

blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord

we have blessed you out of the house of the Lord

There is no doubt that when the crowds start shouting hosana at Jesus, we are supposed to think of this hymn. The disciples are actively quoting it. And Mark must also know the next lines, although the crowds do not shout it. 

God is the LORD, which hath shewed us light: 

bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar.

The song is about welcoming the king to the city. But it is also about the arrival of a sacrificial lamb.

FUN FACT:

When the Psalm says that the sacrifice is going to be tied to the alter "with cords", the Hebrew word is baabotim. The word aboth is overwhelmingly translated in our Bible as rope, cord, bond or chain.  Isaiah (5:18) says the people are connected to sin as if by the "rope" of a cart. When Samson is imprisoned by the philistines, he manages to break the "ropes" he is tied up with (Judge 15:14).

However, on two or three occasions, context requires the word to have a different meaning. Ezekiel (19:11) talks about a vine “whose stature was exalted among the thick branches, and she appeared in her height with a multitude of branches”. On the first occasion the word for "branches" is aboth. 

Leaves in the higher branches of trees can appear to be wreathed or woven together; so while woven-together-thing generally means "rope" it can be taken figuratively to mean "foliage".

It follows that Psalm 118:27 could be translated, very literally, as

“with woven-together-thing bind the sacrifice to the corners of the alter”

and therefore

“with foliage bind the sacrifice to the corners of the alter”.

Psalm 118 is probably connected to the Jewish festival of Tabernacles which does indeed involve ceremonially waving branches over a sacred tent or hut, so at a stretch you could take it to mean:

“with the foliage you are going to subsequently wave over your tabernacle already in your hand, go and bind the sacrifice to the alter.”

The New International Version optimistically translates the verse as:

“with boughs in your hands lead the festal sacrifice to the alter”.

The Good News Bible goes even further:

“with branches in your hands, start the festival”.

The Contemporary English Version goes with:

“march with palm branches all the way to the alter” 

which seems to me to be actively deceptive.

Eugene H Peterson gives up altogether and goes with

“Festoon the shrine with garlands, hang colored banners above the altar!”

Mark certainly thinks that some things in the Gospel were foretold by the Prophets. Psalm 118 is quoted over and over again; Jesus will reference it directly in the next chapter. But if translators are allowed to go back and change the text of the Old Testament in the light of what they have read in the New, Josh McDowell's odds are shortened considerably.

I'm Andrew. I like God, Doctor Who, Star Wars, Wagner, folk-music and Spider-Man, not necessarily in that order. I have no political opinions of any kind.

Read my arts/virus diary.

If you are enjoying my essays, please consider supporting me on Patreon (by pledging $1 for each essay)

Mark 10 13-45

and they brought young children to him
that he should touch them
and his disciples rebuked those that brought them
but when Jesus saw it,
he was much displeased,
and said unto them,
“suffer the little children to come unto me,
and forbid them not:
for of such is the kingdom of God.
verily I say unto you
whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child
he shall not enter therein"
and he took them up in his arms,
put his hands upon them,
and blessed them

Most of us first got to know the Bible by hearing it read out loud in church. I have probably heard this story more often than any other. It forms part of the baptism service in the Methodist prayer book — and very probably the Anglican one as well. The only passages that got read out more often were the various Christmas stories and Paul’s account of the Last Supper.

If we are looking for Gentle Jesus Meek and Mild, this is where we can find him. I remember Mrs Huber telling the story in Sunday School. The Mummies and Daddies have bring their children to Jesus. The disciples send them away. Jesus has been preaching all day. He’s hot and tired and needs a rest. Come back tomorrow, can’t you? But this makes Jesus angry. Of course I have time to talk to the children, he says. So it’s a message to famous and important people: don’t be one of those spoiled celebrities who hides away from his fans. Be like Jesus who could always make time to sign one more autograph. Or else it’s a message to us kids. Don’t think God doesn’t care about you just because you’re little. Don’t think God doesn’t hear your prayers. Jesus always has time to bless little children. First let me hear how the children stood round his knee and I shall fancy his blessing resting on me…

Am I the only one who spent decades not having the faintest idea what the word “bless” means? God was clearly a person whose main occupation was blessing people, but who had to be reminded to do it on frequent occasions, but exactly what this “blessing” activity involved, I was never quite sure.

Back in Galilee sick people mobbed Jesus wherever he went. They thought that if they even touched his clothes they would be cured. But these aren't sick kids. It has got to the point where even the healthy want Jesus to touch them. You can’t blame the disciples for wanting to get rid of them.

But Jesus is quite happy to see the children. They aren’t “just kids”: they are very important people; especially important people. The kind of people who will own the Kingdom of God. People who don’t receive the Kingdom in the same way as “those of this sort” won’t even be allowed in. 

He puts it that way round: not “people who are like children will be allowed into heaven” but “people who are not like children won’t be.” 

"Receiving" means something like “welcoming” — showing hospitality. If someone didn’t recieve the disciples during their missionary journey they were told to just turn their backs and walk away. Just before leaving Galilee the disciples were told that receiving a child was the same as receiving Jesus — and that welcoming Jesus was the same as welcoming God.

FUN FACT: 

The word "suffer" in this context means "permit" and has nothing to do with cruelty or the Moors Murders. See also "thou shalt not suffer a witch to live"

and when he was gone forth into the way
there came one running,
and kneeled to him,
and asked him,
“good master, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?”
and Jesus said unto him,
“why callest thou me good?
there is none good but one,
that is, God.
thou knowest the commandments,
do not commit adultery,
do not kill,
do not steal,
do not bear false witness,
defraud not,
honour thy father and mother”
and he answered and said unto him,
“master, all these have I observed from my youth.”
then Jesus beholding him loved him,
and said unto him,
“one thing thou lackest
go thy way,
sell whatsoever thou hast,
and give to the poor,
and thou shalt have treasure in heaven
and come,
take up the cross,
and follow me”
and he was sad at that saying,
and went away grieved:
for he had great possessions.
and Jesus looked round about,
and saith unto his disciples,
“how hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God!”
and the disciples were astonished at his words.
but Jesus answereth again,
and saith unto them,
“children, how hard is it for them that trust in riches to enter into the kingdom of God!
it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle,
than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God”

Point 1: The guy who runs after Jesus is definitely rich; but there is no reason to think that he is either young or a ruler. He claims to have led a moral life since he was a young man: if anything that suggests that he is getting on a bit. Maybe that is why he is starting to think about mortality.

Point 2: There is absolutely no reason to think that The Needle’s Eye was a gate in Jerusalem. It’s a nice bit of homiletics, but it isn’t what the passage says. Jesus is talking about the possible and the impossible. It is really, really hard for camels to squeeze through narrow gates. It is physically impossible for them to squeeze through needle's eyes.

Point 3: The Greek word for rope is kamelos.

There are lots of clever ways of misreading this passage.

You could point out that the man claims to have kept the Ten Commandments, plus that extra one about defrauding that came in from somewhere — but doesn't mention the other six hundred provisions of the Jewish law. He may be righteous, but he isn’t religious.

Or you could say sticking to the rules by itself isn’t; what matters; what matters is wanting to stick to them; following them on the inside. There’s not much good saying “I have never cheated on my wife” if you are adding “more’s the pity” under your breath.

Or you could say that the problem is self-righteousness. It’s better to be bad and know that you are bad than to be good and tell people you are good. You’ve stuck to the whole of the law for your whole life? That’s wonderful. And how’s the humility coming along?

But those kinds of reading go against the plain meaning of the words. A few years ago, John the Baptist stood somewhere near here and told people that they needed to turn their lives around and clean themselves up so the Lord’s road would be ready for him when he arrived. Well here is a man whose life is just about as turned around as anyone’s could be; and the Lord is literally walking down the road. The Pharisees once asked why Jesus spent so much time with bad people; and Jesus said for the same reason that a doctor spends so much time with sick people. Here is a man who quite definitely doesn’t need a physician. If this guy can’t get into the kingdom of heaven, no-one can.

And that’s the moral of the story, apparently. No-one can.

If you really want to live forever, says Jesus, give away your money. All of it. Moral behaviour is neither here nor there. If you’re rich, you can’t come in.

The man goes away. The disciples look at Jesus, waiting for the spiritual explanation. They are expecting him to say that when he said possessions he didn’t really mean possessions, any more than when he talked about bread he really meant bread. 

But there is no trick or parable or double meaning. When Jesus said that it’s very hard for rich people to get into heaven, that’s what he meant. And by “hard”, he doesn’t mean big-guy-going-through-a-small-doorway hard. He means elephant-going-through-a-keyhole hard

and they were astonished out of measure, 

saying among themselves,
“who then can be saved?"

and Jesus looking upon them saith, 

"with men it is impossible, 

but not with God: 

for with God all things are possible”

then Peter began to say unto him, 

“lo, we have left all, 

and have followed thee”

and Jesus answered and said,

“verily I say unto you, 

there is no man that hath left 

house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, 

for my sake, and the gospel's,

but he shall receive an hundredfold

now in this time

houses, and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with persecutions; 

and in the world to come eternal life.

but many that are first shall be last

and the last first”

It is impossible for rich people to go to heaven. So if they can’t, who can? Again, the disciples are probably expecting Jesus to say “poor people, obviously”. But Jesus says “No-one. It is impossible.” So there is no hope: apart from one thing. God is quite capable of doing the impossible. He can thread camels through needle’s eyes if he so chooses.

We all know about the nasty “prosperity” theologians who say that believing in God will make you rich. And we all like to throw the story of the rich man in their faces. Jesus was either a communist or an ascetic, or both. Either he wanted the rich man to sell all his possessions because the poor needed them more than he did; or else he thought that possessions were bad for the soul.

But then Jesus goes and talks to the disciples. And what he tells them seems to be very much on the prosperity theologians side. If you give your stuff away, you’ll get even more stuff back. Like Job. Bad things may happen if you follow Jesus — people may hate you. But good things will happen as well.

C.S. Lewis thought this was an example of Jesus cracking a joke — using humour to make a serious point. “Come and follow me and you can have it all: happy families, fast cars, hot showers, steak on the barbecue, persecution….”

“But Andrew…Jesus was talking in a spiritual sense. He meant that the spiritual rewards of following him in abject poverty will make you much happier than the big house and the big car could possibly have done.”

If that is what he meant, then he expressed it in a very odd way. Why talk about “houses, land and family” if what you mean is “spiritual happiness”? And if we are entitled to say that he meant houses, lands and family only in a spiritual sense; why are we not permitted to say that he told the rich man to sell his possessions only in a spiritual sense?

This is not the first time that Jesus has given two apparently contradictory teachings in consecutive sentences. In my kingdom, everyone will be poor. In my kingdom, everyone will be rich. These two things are the same.

and they were in the way going up to Jerusalem;
and Jesus went before them:
and they were amazed;
and as they followed,
they were afraid
and he took again the twelve,
and began to tell them what things should happen unto him,
saying

“behold, we go up to Jerusalem;

and the Son of man shall be delivered unto the chief priests,

and unto the scribes; 

and they shall condemn him to death

and shall deliver him to the Gentiles:

and they shall mock him

and shall scourge him

and shall spit upon him, 

and shall kill him: 

and the third day he shall rise again”

and James and John, the sons of Zebedee, 

come unto him, saying,

“master, we would that thou shouldest do for us 

whatsoever we shall desire”

and he said unto them 

“what would ye that I should do for you?”

they said unto him, 

“grant unto us that we may sit, 

one on thy right hand, 

and the other on thy left hand, 

in thy glory”

but Jesus said unto them, 

“ye know not what ye ask: 

can ye drink of the cup that I drink of? 

and be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?"

and they said unto him

“we can” 

and Jesus said unto them, 

“ye shall indeed drink of the cup that I drink of; 

and with the baptism that I am baptized withal 

shall ye be baptized:

but to sit on my right hand and on my left hand is not mine to give; 

but it shall be given to them for whom it is prepared.”

and when the ten heard it, they began to be much displeased with James and John.

but Jesus called them to him, and saith unto them, 

“ye know that they which are accounted to rule over the Gentiles 

exercise lordship over them; 

and their great ones exercise authority upon them.

but so shall it not be among you:

but whosoever will be great among you, 

shall be your minister:

and whosoever of you will be the chiefest, 

shall be servant of all.

for even the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, 

but to minister, 

and to give his life a ransom for many”

The York Mystery Play was a great pageant, depicting the history of the world from creation to apocalypse in a single day. The final play, staged at great expense by the Merchants Guild, depicted the Last Judgement: actors representing angels and demons welcome the saved into heaven and the damned into hell. Jesus is enthroned in glory at the centre of the stage; to his right sits Mary, newly crowned Queen of Heaven; on his left sits Peter, holder of the keys of heaven and the power of binding and loosing.

Jesus says that James and John are not going to have the best seats in heaven: the medieval playwright decided that they would go to his chief disciple and his mother. If he had thought to invite the apostle to the Gentiles they could have formed a folk band. 

But the York Merchants' play misses the point on a cosmic scale. 

When Jesus chose the Twelve disciples, he singled out James and John and nicknamed them the Thunder-Brothers. Along with Peter, they form an inner circle within the Twelve. The Three went up the mountain to see the metamorphosis of Jesus; they witnessed the resurrection of Jairus’s daughter. But this is the only time they get a scene to themselves.

There has clearly been some jockeying for position going on. Before they left Galilee there was an argument about who the most important disciple was. Now James and John are lobbying for the top jobs. Maybe there is already a faction who think Peter should be boss and a faction who think the brothers should be boss? 

Jesus has left Perea and started to walk towards Jerusalem. The mood in the band is one of amazement and terror. Jesus is walking into his enemies’ centre of power. I think it is probably over-subtle to say that the ones in the front were surprised and the ones at the back were scared. Everyone was probably feeling mixed emotions. You join the army knowing that sooner or later you are going to see front line combat; but that doesn’t mean that being told that you are going over the top first thing tomorrow doesn’t concentrate your mind.

Jesus doesn’t do much to steady their nerves. He has now foreseen his death three times. Each time he is more specific about it. In Galilee he said that the Son of Man was going to be handed over; now he says that he is going to be handed over to the Jewish leaders; and that they in turn are going to hand him over to the Romans; and its them who are going to beat him up and spit at him and kill him.

So how can James and John still be thinking in terms of glory? Perhaps they still don’t understand that Jesus is talking about himself. “Yes, very distressing for this Son of Man chap. But on a completely different matter, when you are king, we would like to volunteer to be your second and third in command?” Or have they understood him a bit to easily? “So there is nothing to worry about. You are going to die and rise from the dead. When that happens can we have the best seats?”

Jesus says (surprisingly) that he can’t promise this because it isn’t his decision. And the he starts talking about the whole idea of greatness. If you want to be big, you need to be a servant. If you want to be the most important of all, you need to become everyone’s slave. (He makes that distinction: between diakanos, a servant, and doulas, a slave.)

He has said almost these exact same words before. When they were all arguing about greatness back in Galilee. If you want to be the first, you will have to be the last, he said. And he illustrated the point by picking up a child.

A lot of sentimental rubbish has been talked about the story of Jesus blessing the children. We are told that children own the kingdom of heaven because they are innocent or spontaneous or trusting. There was supposedly an order of monks who made playing tag and hide and seek part of their spiritual practice in order to be more child-like. But what Jesus must really be talking about is status. Children are important because they are unimportant. Rich, holy people wont even get through the door. The most impressive seats in the kingdom will go to the ones who wait at table and sweep up after the party.

And that is the final piece of the puzzle. What everything has been building up to. Kids are the real grown-ups. The poor are the real rich. The slaves are at the top of the pecking order. The last are literally first and the first are literally last. 

Jesus doesn’t exclude himself from this. If anything, he's mostly talking about himself. He is going to be beaten up and spat on and tortured. Status doesn't get any lower than that. James and John don’t yet understand what Jesus takes “glory” to mean.

I'm Andrew. I like God, Doctor Who, Star Wars, Wagner, folk-music and Spider-Man, not necessarily in that order. I have no political opinions of any kind.

Read my arts/virus diary.

If you are enjoying my essays, please consider supporting me on Patreon (by pledging $1 for each essay)