Virus Diary: I have been surprised that so few people have had anything to say about the Dominic Cummings situation, so I thought it was my duty as a blogger to step into the breach. 

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.

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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)

Virus diary: Karl Ove Knausgaard,