11. Jesus before Pilate (27:11–26)

11. Jesus before Pilate (27:11–26)

OVERVIEW

Because of the structure the five discourses impose on Matthew, some scholars (Bacon, Studies in Matthew; Stendahl, School of St. Matthew, 20ff.) have thought that the passion and resurrection narratives (26:6–28:20) stand outside the main framework, perhaps as a kind of epilogue to balance the “prologue” (chs. 1–2). But I have argued (see Introduction, ;

As often noted, Matthew from now on follows Mark quite closely, though he omits Mark 14:51–52; 15:21b, adds certain bits (e.g., 27:3–10, 51–53), provides a completely independent ending, and offers a number of minor changes (e.g., some third-person reports in Mark are now given in direct speech). Many attempts have been made to identify what is exclusively Matthean in the passion narrative; but not a few such attempts suffer from reductionism. For instance, Dahl (Jesus in the Memory, 37–51) holds that Matthew’s account is designed to highlight differences between church and synagogue. The former has accepted Jesus as Messiah; the latter has rejected and condemned him (cf. Trilling, Das wahre Israel, 66–74). Others think Jesus’ passion in Matthew has an ethical cast, designed to help young disciples learn obedience (e.g., Strecker, Weg der Gerechtigkeit, 183–84). Many others see various christological elements in Matthew’s account. Barth (“Matthew’s Understanding of the Law”) claims that by his suffering and death, Jesus fulfills God’s redemptive plan and establishes the kingdom; Kingsbury stresses the confession of Jesus as “Son of God.” (For an excellent survey, see D. Senior, “The Passion Narrative in the Gospel of Matthew,” in L’Évangile selon Matthieu [ed. Didier], 343–57.)

Virtually every theme thought to be particularly strong in Matthew can be shown to be present in one or more of the other gospels. For instance, that the events are all under God’s control or that Jesus dies voluntarily is even more strongly attested in John than in Matthew. This is not to deny that Matthew has his own contribution to make. Instead it is to say that what Matthew offers is a great deal of commonly held theology, presented with a rich allusiveness and a complex intertwining of themes, subtly blended to lay stress on one part or another of the narrative and capped with a few additions unknown in any other source. Thus it is best to examine Matthew’s material inductively and trace its unfolding.

OVERVIEW

The first pericope (vv.6–13) is problematic because of its disputed relation to other gospel accounts (Mk 14:3–9; Jn 12:2–8; cf. Lk 7:36–50). Some ancient commentators (e.g., Origen) thought there were three anointings: (1) Luke 7:36–50, in Galilee; (2) John 12:2–8, a few days earlier than the third; and (3) Mark 14:3–9 and Matthew 26:6–13. Most modern scholars believe that there was only one anointing and that variations in details arose during oral transmission and because of the hortatory use by each evangelist (cf. R. Holst, “The One Anointing of Jesus: Another Application of the Form-Critical Method,” JBL 95 [1976]: 435–46), but there is no consensus among these scholars as to the original setting or purpose of the story.

On the whole, a third alternative seems preferable: there were two anointings, one in Galilee (recorded by Luke) and the other in Bethany (recorded by Matthew, Mark, and John; so Broadus; McNeile; A. Legault, “An Application of the Form Critique Method to the Anointings in Galilee and Bethany,” CBQ 16 [1954]: 131–45; France [NICNT]; Turner). The only real similarities between the two incidents are the anointing by a woman and the name Simon. But “Simon,” like “Judas,” was a very common name, and the two incidents differ in many details. In Luke, the woman is a “sinner”; in the other account, there is no mention of this, and John says she is Mary of Bethany. In Luke, the host is a Pharisee, in a Galilean home; here the host is “Simon the leper,” at a home in Bethany. In Luke, the host is critical of the woman’s actions; here the disciples criticize her.

Small differences among Matthew, Mark, and John are fairly easily reconciled. John may place the incident where he does because he has just spoken of Bethany and will mention that town no more; but his links with the historical setting seem fairly strong, and the most natural interpretation of his account is that the anointing took place before the triumphal entry (Jn 12:2, 12). Mark and Matthew, on the other hand, provide no chronological connection, only a thematic one. Out of Jesus’ rebuke to the disciples, Judas Iscariot sets his course of betrayal (cf. Jn 12:46). To object to this two-incident theory on the grounds that the methodology and many of the presuppositions “are out of date due to the scholarly advances in the disciplines of form and redaction criticism ... [so that there is] no trajectory or tendency to explain the complexities of the final editions of the stories” (Holst, “The One Anointing,” 435, emphasis his) is to make these tools intrinsically incapable of recognizing two superficially similar incidents.

6While Jesus was in Bethany in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, 7a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table.

8When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. “Why this waste?” they asked. 9“This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.”

10Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. 11The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me. 12When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. 13I tell you the truth, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

COMMENTARY

6–7 For Bethany, see

8–9 Matthew mentions “the disciples” (v.8), Mark “some of those present,” and John “Judas Iscariot.” If the three accounts represent the same incident, it could be that, just as Peter voiced the sentiments of the group (v.35) and was answered directly by Jesus, so with Judas. Matthew shows the disciples’ failure to understand what is taking place, not only in the anointing, but also in who Jesus truly is and in the rush of events toward the cross (see

10–11 The Greek gnous de (“Aware of this”) is also behind 16:8 (“Aware of their discussion”). It is possible that Jesus’ knowledge is here supernatural, but perhaps the complaints were whispered and came to Jesus’ attention because they troubled the woman. Jesus begins his rebuke by accusing the disciples of “bothering” her (v.10; the Greek idiom, found in the NT only here and in Lk 11:7; Gal 6:17, is a strong one). What they call waste, Jesus calls “a beautiful thing.”

Hill’s claim that Jesus’ further statement (v.11) “distinguishes between a good work (i.e., almsgiving) and one done with reference to himself while he is present (with his disciples, and also as the ‘living Christ’ in the Matthean church)” entirely misses the point. Jesus distinguishes between giving to the poor and the extravagance lavished on himself on the grounds that he will not always be there to receive it. Far from referring to Jesus’ spiritual presence in the church, Matthew distinguishes between Jesus’ earthly presence and his postascension spiritual presence (28:20). His followers will always find poor people to help (cf. Dt 15:11); they will not always have the incarnate Jesus with them. Implicitly, the distinction Jesus makes is a high christological claim, for it shows not only that he foresees his impending departure but also that he himself, who is truly “gentle and humble in heart” (11:29), deserves this lavish outpouring of love and expense.

Lane (Mark, 493–94) follows F. W. Danker, (“The Literary Unity of Mark 14:1–25,” JBL 85 [1966]: 467–72) in suggesting that Psalm 41 may also be alluded to here—a psalm that speaks of the poor yet righteous sufferer who is betrayed by his closest friend, yet vindicated by God in the end. Jesus is the poor, righteous Sufferer par excellence, and the opportunity to help him in any way will soon be gone forever.

12 The anointing does not designate Jesus as Messiah but “prepares” him for his burial after dying the death of a criminal, for only in that circumstance would the customary anointing of the body be omitted (cf. D. Daube, “The Anointing at Bethany and Jesus’ Burial,” AThR 32 [1950]: 187–88). Jesus’ defense of the woman does not necessarily mean that the woman understood what she was doing, though it allows this. Jesus may well be using the anointing to intimate again his impending crucifixion (cf. v.2).

13 Interpretations of this verse, with its solemn promise, differ. Jeremias (Prayers of Jesus, 112–24; Jesus’ Promise, 22) takes the saying as authentic but says that hopou here means not “wherever” (NIV) but “when”—i.e., when the triumphal news of this gospel is proclaimed by God’s angel (cf. Rev 14:6–11) at the Parousia, before all the world, then her act will be remembered. Jeremias thus avoids any prediction by Jesus of a worldwide mission. But this uses “gospel” strangely and is too tightly linked with assumptions about what Jesus could or could not have said. Jesus did foresee Gentiles entering the kingdom (8:11) in response to his disciples’ preaching, and that the word of God would be preached in the world (13:37; 24:14). Thus the groundwork has already been laid for this saying and also for the Great Commission (28:18–20).

The most natural interpretation of v.13 is that the woman and her deed would be remembered “wherever” the “gospel of the kingdom” would be preached (cf. Moore, Judaism, 203–4). Broadus remarks, “This very remarkable promise ... was already in process of fulfillment when John wrote his gospel, probably sixty years afterwards; for he distinguishes this Bethany from the one beyond Jordan (Jn 1:28) by calling it (Jn 11:1) the village of Mary (placed first) and Martha; and then makes all definite and clear by adding, ‘It was that Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment’, etc. He has not yet in his gospel told the story of the anointing, but he assumes that it is familiar to all Christian readers.”

OVERVIEW

All the gospels speak of Judas’s important role in Jesus’ death (cf. Mk 14:10–11; Lk 22:3–4); but none explains what motives prompted his treachery. Like most human motives, his were mixed and doubtless included avarice and jealousy combined with profound disappointment that Jesus was not acting like the Messiah he had expected.

14Then one of the Twelve—the one called Judas Iscariot—went to the chief priests 15and asked, “What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?” So they counted out for him thirty silver coins. 16From then on Judas watched for an opportunity to hand him over.

COMMENTARY

14–16 While tote (“then”) is generally difficult to translate (see

The chief priests “counted out for him thirty silver coins” (v.15); Matthew’s language (lit., “they weighed out to him”), unlike Mark’s, is the distinctive language of the LXX and calls to mind Zechariah 11:12, to which Matthew will return in 27:3–10 (Moo, Old Testament in the Gospel Passion Narratives, passim). In Zechariah 11, thirty pieces of silver is a paltry amount (“the handsome price at which they priced me” [Zec 11:13] is ironic)—the value of a slave accidentally gored to death by an ox (Ex 21:32). That Jesus is lightly esteemed is reflected not only in his betrayal but in the low sum agreed on by Judas and the chief priests.

REFLECTIONS: CHRONOLOGICAL CONSIDERATIONS

The traditional date of Jesus’ death is AD 30. But Hoehner (Chronological Aspects, 65–93) has made a plausible case for AD 33, though the exact year has little effect on the exegesis. More important is the problem of the relationship between the Synoptic Gospels and John. The Synoptics seem to indicate that Jesus and his disciples ate the Passover meal the evening before the crucifixion (see esp. Mk 14:12–16; 15:1–25, and par.), whereas John seems to suggest that the Passover lamb was slaughtered at the moment Jesus was being put to death, which would, of course, mean that he and his disciples did not eat the Passover at the Last Supper (see esp. Jn 18:28; 19:14).

The question is of more than chronological interest, for quite apart from harmonization of disparate historical records, the meaning of the Lord’s Supper is affected by its connection with Passover. The literature about this question is immense. The aim here is to list some of the principal options and defend briefly the interpretation adopted here. Essential bibliography includes Hoehner, Chronological Aspects, 81–90; Jeremias, Eucharistic Words, 41ff.; Str-B, 2:847–52; A. Jaubert, The Date of the Last Supper (Staten Island, N.J.: Alba, 1965); E. Ruckstuhl, Chronology of the Last Days of Jesus (New York: Desclee, 1965); G. Ogg, “The Chronology of the Last Supper,” in Historicity and Chronology in the New Testament (ed. D. E. Nineham; London: SPCK, 1965), 75–96; J. B. Segal, The Hebrews Passover from the Earliest Times to AD 70 (London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1963); S. Dockx, Chronologies néotestamentaires et Vie de l’Église primitive (Paris: Duculot, 1976), passim; Marshall, Last Supper, esp. 57ff., and Table 4 (184–85); Moo, Old Testament in the Gospel Passion Narratives, 318–23; and the major commentaries on the gospels.

1. Many scholars maintain that the discrepancies are not historically reconcilable—that either the Synoptics are right or John is. There are many indications that the synoptists understand the Last Supper to be a Passover meal (see Jeremias, Eucharistic Words, 41–62; Marshall, Last Supper, 59–62). Therefore, attempts to turn the meal into something else—a qidduš (prayer meal), though this was unknown until several centuries later, or a haburah (fellowship meal) eaten just before Passover—are not convincing. That the meal was not Passover supper but that such elements are read back into it is a counsel of despair, especially in light of the Passover associations as early as 1 Corinthians 11.

Any theory of this kind depends on its explanation of why the discrepancy was introduced. If the Synoptics are historically correct (Jeremias), perhaps John changed the date to correspond with his Jesus/Passover lamb typology; if John is historically correct (Ogg), perhaps the synoptists changed the date to make the Last Supper fit the Passover symbolism. Either way, it is necessary to trace a theological development; but to date no such work has proved convincing. To argue that John has identified Jesus with the Passover lamb by so flimsy a device as changing two or three chronological references is not very credible in a book abounding with explanatory statements (1:42; 2:21–22; 12:38; 13:18 et al.). In fact, only the Synoptics mention the day the lambs were sacrificed (Mk 14:12; Lk 22:7). Finding theological motivation for a putative change in the Synoptics is even more problematic because of the highly disputed question of which evangelist preserves the oldest form of the institution of the Lord’s Supper (cf. Marshall, Last Supper, 30ff.).

2. The second group of options brings together various theories of calendrical disputes in the first century. Jaubert argues that Jesus, as reported by the synoptists, was using a solar calendar known to us from Jubilees and apparently adopted at Qumran. Passover always occurred on Tuesday evening (14–15 Nisan), so Jesus and his men ate their Passover that night. But the “official” Pharisaic lunar calendar, followed by the fourth gospel, places the cross and the sacrifice on the lunar 14–15 Nisan (Thursday-Friday, from nightfall to nightfall). In a somewhat different scheme, some have argued that the Pharisees and Sadducees adopted different calendars (Str-B), or that Jesus followed a Galilean (i.e., Pharisees’) calendar (Synoptics) and John reports on the basis of the Judean (Sadducees’) equivalent (so Hoehner).

At least all these theories based on diverse calendars join in affirming that Jesus and his disciples ate a Passover meal, whatever the date. But beyond that, all these calendrical solutions have severe drawbacks. Part of Jaubert’s view, for instance, turns on a third-century document (the Didascalia Apostolorum) concerned with justifying current fasting practices by appeal to Passion Week, rather than giving any useful historical information about that week. There is no evidence that Jesus followed a sectarian calendar, and quite certainly sacrifices were not offered in the temple on any day other than the “official” (lunar calendar) day. Moreover, all four evangelists seem to agree that Jesus was arrested the evening before his crucifixion and that, despite objections, there was enough time between his arrest Thursday night and his crucifixion Friday to allow for the various events discussed below. Some of the other theories are highly suspect because of poor attestation in primary sources and are little more than last resorts.

3. The third approach is to attempt historical harmonization between John and the Synoptics as they stand. Of these attempts, one, pursued at various times in church history, is reasonably successful.

Matthew 26:17 speaks of “the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread.” According to Leviticus 23:6 and Numbers 28:17, Jews were forbidden to use yeast in their bread for seven days from 15 Nisan. However, Exodus 12:18 says that yeast should be removed from the house on 14 Nisan; there is some evidence that Jews customarily removed it at noon on 14 Nisan so as to have everything ready in good time. Thus Josephus can in one place speak of the beginning of the feast as occurring on 15 Nisan (Ant. 3.248–50 [10.5]) and in another as occurring on 14 Nisan (J.W. 5.99 [3.1]; cf. Ant. 2.315–16 [15.1]). Matthew seems to presuppose Thursday, 14 Nisan. According to Exodus 12:6 and Numbers 9:3, the Jews were directed to kill the paschal lamb “at twilight” (NIV), i.e., “between the two evenings,” which in Jesus’ day meant middle to late afternoon until sundown (Dt 16:6). Hence Josephus (J.W. 6.423 [9.3]) says the lambs were killed from the ninth to the eleventh hour (3:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m.) and that on one occasion the number killed was 256,500—almost certainly an inflated figure.

It seems, then, that Jesus’ disciples entered the city shortly after noon on Thursday, 14 Nisan, procured the room, took a lamb to the temple court and killed it, roasted it with bitter herbs (Ex 12:8–9), and made other arrangements for the meal, including the purchase of wine and unleavened bread. Matthew 26:19 explicitly says they “prepared the Passover.” After nightfall on Thursday evening, when it was 15 Nisan, Jesus joined his disciples, and they ate the Passover. On these points the Synoptics agree; and this places Jesus’ death on Friday, 15 Nisan, probably about 3:00 p.m.

The following passages in John are the most difficult to harmonize with this scheme (cf. D. A. Carson, The Gospel according to John [PNTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991].)

John 13:1. “It was just before the Passover Feast” need not set the stage for the meal, which was about to be eaten, but for the footwashing. The footwashing took place before the “Passover Feast.” John 13:2 in the best texts does not contradict this. We should not read “supper being ended” (KJV) but the “meal was being served” (NIV).

John 13:27. “What you are about to do, do quickly.” John adds (v.29) that some of those present thought Jesus was telling Judas to buy what was necessary for the feast, or else give something to the poor. How could they think this if they were just then finishing the feast? But one may also ask why, if the feast was still twenty-four hours away, anyone would think that there would be any rush to buy things. It is more reasonable to think that the disciples thought Judas needed to make some purchases for the continuing “Feast of Unleavened Bread”—e.g., some more unleavened bread. Since the next day, still Friday, 15 Nisan, was a high feast day and the day after a Sabbath, it was best to do things immediately. By Jewish reckoning, the high feast day (15 Nisan) had begun that Thursday evening, but purchases were more than likely still possible, though inconvenient. After all, one could buy necessities even on a Sabbath if it fell before a Passover, provided it was done by leaving something in trust rather than paying cash (m. Sanh. 23:1). Moreover, it was customary to give alms to the poor on Passover night. The temple gates were left open from midnight on, and beggars congregated there (cf. Jeremias, Eucharistic Words, 54; Ruckstuhl, Chronology of the Last Days, 132). It is difficult to imagine why the disciples would think on any other night that Judas was being sent out for this purpose; the next day would have done as well.

John 18:28. Jesus stands before Pilate. “By now it was early morning, and to avoid ceremonial uncleanness the Jews did not enter the palace; they wanted to be able to eat the Passover.” The precise nature of this “ceremonial uncleanness” is highly disputed. Certainly Jews had to purify themselves for Passover (cf. 2Ch 30:18; Ezr 6:19–21; cf. Jn 11:55; 12:1), and Pilate respected the Jews’ scruples (Jn 18:28–29). Contamination might come from the road dust brought in by foreign visitors (cf. m. Ber. 9:5), or from contact with Gentiles who had eaten or touched something unclean (e.g., a corpse or a menstruating woman). While there are numerous other possibilities, uncleanness from any of these sources could have been eliminated at the end of one day by a purifying wash at sundown (cf. Lev 15:5–11, 16–18; 22:5–7; see y. Pesaḥ. 36b, 92b), and then the Passover could be eaten. Thus, close attention to John’s text and the historical background makes it unlikely that John 18:28 can be used to defend the view that Jesus ate a meal the evening before Passover night. Instead, 18:28 is more plausibly interpreted in one of two other ways.

1. It is possible that the priests had intended to eat the Passover that night, but, pressed by their temple duties and the thousands of sacrifices they had to perform, interrupted by Judas’s unexpected offer of instant betrayal, and delayed by the headlong pace of the ensuing judicial examinations, they had not yet eaten their own Passover. This view is unlikely if Exodus 12:8–10, forbidding delay of the Passover dinner beyond midnight (m. Pesaḥ. 10:9; m. Zebaḥ. 5:8), was strictly interpreted. But these traditions may be late, and Mekilta Exodus says that some rabbis interpreted Exodus 12:8–10 as being satisfied if the Passover were eaten by dawn. Even so, these Jewish leaders were being caught out by at least two or three hours.

2. More plausibly, “to eat the Passover” in John 18:28 may refer not to the Passover meal itself but to the continuing feast, and in particular to the ḥagigah, the feast offering offered on the morning of the first full paschal day (cf. Nu 28:18–19). This could explain the Jews’ concern: ritual purification could be regained by nightfall but not by the morning ḥagigah. Of course, the ḥagigah could be eaten later in the week, but it is unlikely that the leaders, conscious of their public status, would be eager to delay it unless absolutely unavoidable. Deuteronomy 16:3 speaks of eating the Passover food of unleavened bread for seven days. It may be, then, that the leaders wanted to avoid ritual uncleanness in order to continue full participation in the entire feast. Moreover, this becomes the more plausible if our treatment of John 19:31 is correct. Morris’s objection (John, 778–79) that one may concede that “the Passover” can refer to Passover plus the Feast of Unleavened Bread but certainly not to the Feast of Unleavened Bread without the Passover meal may be setting up a straw man, for the interpretation being defended here does not claim that “the Passover” here refers to the Feast of Unleavened Bread apart from the Passover meal itself but to the entire Passover festival. Ritual uncleanness at this point in the festival would force temporary withdrawal from the festivities, from “eating the Passover.”

John 19:14. Referring to the day of Jesus’ crucifixion, the verse reads, “It was paraskeuē tou pascha” (lit., “the Preparation of the Passover”). There is strong evidence to suggest that paraskeuē (“Preparation [Day],” GK 4187) had already become a technical name for Friday, since Friday was normally the day on which one prepared for the Sabbath (Saturday); and we have no evidence that the term was used in the evangelist’s time to refer to the eve of any festal day other than the Sabbath (cf. C. C. Torrey, “The Date of the Crucifixion according to the Fourth Gospel,” JBL 50 [1931]: 241). In this context, then, tou pascha means “of Passover Week” or “of the Passover festival.” Several diverse strands of evidence support this meaning of pascha. Josephus (Ant. 14.21 [2.l]; cf. 17.213 [9.3]; J.W. 2.10 [1.3]) uses “Passover” to refer to the entire Feast of Unleavened Bread, unless he is directly dependent on an OT passage, when he tends to keep the two distinct (Ant. 3.248–51 [10.5]; cf. BDAG, 784). The same extended usage is found not only in m. Pesaḥ. 9:5 but in the NT (cf. Lk 22:1: “the Feast of Unleavened Bread, called the Passover,” and probably also such passages as Jn 2:23, 6:4; 13:1; 19:31, 42). Thus John 19:14 most probably means “Friday in Passover Week” (hence the NIV, “the day of Preparation of Passover Week”); this understanding of pascha reinforces the comments made above in the John 18:28 paragraph.

John 19:31. “And the next day was to be a special Sabbath.” The most plausible view is that this does not refer to the day of the Passover meal but to Saturday, which would be considered a “high” or “special” Sabbath, not only because it fell during the Passover Feast, but because on the second paschal day, in this case a Sabbath (Saturday), the very important sheaf offering fell (cf. Str-B, 2:582; Philo, Spec. 2).

John 19:36. This verse refers to Exodus 12:46 to explain that Jesus, the Passover Lamb, did not have any of his bones broken. Some have thought this suggests that Jesus must have died while the lambs were being slaughtered. But this does not follow. John makes no such temporal connection, and the theological connection could spring either from the tradition regarding the witness of John the Baptist (Jn 1:29, 36) or from Jesus’ words at the institution of the Lord’s Supper, reported by the synoptists and Paul.

~

It seems, then, that the fourth gospel can be fairly harmonized with the Synoptics as far as the chronology of the Last Supper and Jesus’ death are concerned.

One final question remains: How could conscientious Jews be party to a trial and execution on a feast day, which, in terms of prohibitions and legal procedure, was to be regarded as a Sabbath (cf. Ex 12:16; Lev 23:7; Nu 28:18; m. Beṣah 5:2)? But Mishnah (Sanh. 11:4) insists that the execution of a rebellious teacher should take place on one of the three principal feasts so that all the people would hear and fear (cf. Dt 17:13; Str-B, 2:826). Jeremias (Eucharistic Words, 79) examines other events reported in the Gospels (e.g., Jesus’ burial) and alleged to be inconsistent with the sabbatical nature of Passover feast day and concludes that “the passion narratives portray no incident which could not have taken place on Nisan 15.” There are numerous irregularities connected with the Sanhedrin trial; these, however, bear only marginally on the chronological problems and are treated in situ (see ).

Therefore, we seem to be on safe ground in arguing that the Last Supper was a Passover meal and that some of its associations must be seen in that light.

For an alternative view, see France [NICNT].

17On the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Where do you want us to make preparations for you to eat the Passover?”

18He replied, “Go into the city to a certain man and tell him, ‘The Teacher says: My appointed time is near. I am going to celebrate the Passover with my disciples at your house.’” 19So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them and prepared the Passover.

COMMENTARY

17 Problems of chronology and some of the steps needed to prepare for the Passover are discussed in the section above. A few more details shed light on the situation. Toward midafternoon of Thursday, 14 Nisan, the lambs (one per “household”—a convenient group of perhaps ten or twelve people) would be brought to the temple court, where the priests sacrificed them. The priests took the blood and passed it in basins along a line until it was poured out at the foot of the altar. They also burned the lambs’ fat on the altar of burnt offerings. The singing of the Hallel (Pss 113–18) accompanied these steps.

After sunset (i.e., now 15 Nisan), the “household” would gather in a home to eat the Passover lamb, which by this time would have been roasted with bitter herbs. The head of the household began the meal with the thanksgiving for that feast day (the Passover qidduš) and for the wine, praying over the first of four cups. A preliminary course of greens and bitter herbs was, apparently, followed by the Passover haggadah—in which a boy would ask the meaning of all this and the head of the household would explain the symbols in terms of the exodus (cf. m. Pesaḥ. 10:4–5)—and the singing of the first part of the Hallel (Ps 113 or Pss 113–14). Though the precise order is disputed, apparently a second cup of wine introduced the main course, which was followed by a third cup, known as the “cup of blessing,” accompanied by another prayer of thanksgiving. The participants then sang the rest of the Hallel (Pss 114–18 or 115–18) and probably drank a fourth cup of wine. Thus the preparations about which the disciples were asking were extensive.

18–19 Matthew’s account is much simpler than Mark’s. Pros ton deina (“to a certain man”) refers to somebody one cannot or does not wish to name (v.18). A case can be made that the home belonged to the father of John Mark (Zahn), but this is far from certain. It is not clear whether Jesus had made previous arrangements or called on supernatural knowledge (cf. 21:13). Either way, Jesus was carefully taking charge of this final Passover meal. Jesus’ words “My appointed time is near” were probably purposely ambiguous. To the disciples and the owner of the house, they might have implied Jesus’ timing for the Passover meal and prior arrangements for it. In the light of Easter, the words must refer to the impending crucifixion, the fulfillment of Jesus mission.

The disciples do as Jesus has “directed” (v.19) or “instructed” them (syntassō is used in the NT only here and in 21:6; 27:10). Syntassō does not relate to discipleship, as many maintain, and still less to Jesus’ authority in any abstract sense. Instead, it prepares the way for the Last Supper and Jesus’ death and demonstrates that he is quietly and consciously taking the steps to complete his mission of tragedy and glory.

OVERVIEW

Matthew agrees with Mark in placing this scene before the words of institution, whereas Luke’s briefer account gives the impression that Judas did not leave until after those words. We cannot be certain which gospel has preserved the chronological sequence; perhaps the Lukan account betrays greater marks of condensation and topical arrangement. Matthew omits the allusion to Psalm 41:9 preserved in Mark 14:18 but adds the brief exchange between Jesus and Judas in v.25 (cf. Mk 14:18–21; Lk 22:21–23; Jn 13:21–30).

20When evening came, Jesus was reclining at the table with the Twelve. 21And while they were eating, he said, “I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me.”

22They were very sad and began to say to him one after the other, “Surely not I, Lord?”

23Jesus replied, “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. 24The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born.”

25Then Judas, the one who would betray him, said, “Surely not I, Rabbi?”

Jesus answered, “Yes, it is you.”

COMMENTARY

20–22 The Passover meal could not be eaten until after sundown; and for those living within Palestine, it had to be eaten inside Jerusalem or not at all. That is why we find Jesus reclining at a table in a room in the city “when evening came.” Once the meal begins—we do not know at what stage—Jesus solemnly says, “I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me” (v.21). The disciples respond uniformly. One after another, as the enormity of the charge sinks in, each man asks, “Surely not I, Lord?” (v.22).

23 The NIV’s “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl” attempts to render an aorist participle (ho embapsas); contrast the present tense “one who dips” in Mark 14:20 (ho embaptomenos). Nevertheless the NIV is misleading. It gives the impression that a particular “one” is in view, when in fact most, if not all, of those present would have dipped into the same bowl as Jesus, given the eating styles of the day. Jesus’ point is that the betrayer is a friend, someone close, someone sharing the common dish, thus heightening the enormity of the betrayal. The identification in John 13:22–30 probably took place just after this. If the main course, the roast lamb, was being eaten, the “bowl” would contain herbs and a fruit puree, which would be scooped out with bread.

24 For “woe,” see

The divine necessity for the sacrifice of the Son of Man, grounded in the Word of God, does not excuse or mitigate the crime of betrayal (cf. Ac 1:16–18; 4:27–28). Nor is this an instance of divine “overruling” after the fact. Instead, divine sovereignty and human responsibility are both involved in Judas’s treason, the one effecting salvation and bringing redemption history to its fulfillment, the other answering the promptings of an evil heart. The one results in salvation from sin for Messiah’s people (1:21), the other in personal and eternal ruin (cf. Carson, Divine Sovereignty, 130–32).

25 This exchange, preserved only in Matthew, magnifies Judas’s effrontery and brackets the words of institution (vv.26–30) with the deceit of the betrayer (v.25) and the empty boast of the one who would disown Jesus with oaths (vv.31–35). Doubtless Judas felt he had to speak up; silence at this stage might have given him away to the others. Both here and in v.49, Judas uses “Rabbi” (see

OVERVIEW

John records nothing of the words of institution. Matthew and Mark are fairly close in their formulations, as are Luke and Paul, but Luke and Paul are sufficiently distinct to make it better to speak of three accounts instead of two (cf. Mk 14:23–26; Lk 22:19–20; 1Co 11:23–25). The numerous text-critical variations confirm the tendency toward assimilation, especially in material at the heart of Christian liturgy. The literature attempting to trace Jesus’ exact words and to determine which of the synoptic forms is most primitive is immense (cf. Jeremias, Eucharistic Words, 96–105; Marshall, Last Supper, 30–56). Marshall’s caution is sensible: “It must be emphasized that there is no good reason for supposing that any one of the three versions must necessarily be closer to the original form of the account than any of the others” (p. 38).

We may go farther and ask why we must limit ourselves to just one “original account.” There were eleven or twelve witnesses. We have repeatedly referred to the evangelists’ interest in reporting Jesus’ ipsissima vox, not his ipsissima verba (see Notes, 3:17). The various criteria for getting behind this (number of Semitisms, redaction-critical distinctions) are inadequate. A good translation may reduce Semitisms but preserve authentic content; redaction criticism may determine that some statement is traditional but cannot prove authenticity or, conversely, that some formulation is redactional without disproving authenticity. We must be satisfied with the sources we have. (On the question of discerning by critical means Jesus’ understanding of his own death, see H. Schürmann, “Wie hat Jesus seinen Tod bestanden und verstanden? Eine methodenkritische Besinnung,” in Orientierung an Jesus [ed. Hoffmann et al.], 325–63; Guthrie, New Testament Theology, 436–48.)

Close comparison of Mark and Matthew reveals few distinctive elements in Matthew. The first evangelist, unlike Mark, has “eat” in v.26 and replaces “they all drank from it” (Mk 14:23) with “Drink from it, all of you” (v.27). Matthew is usually judged more “liturgical” (Lohmeyer; Stendahl, School of St. Matthew; Hill). This, though possible, is no more than a guess; we know almost nothing about first-century liturgy, and the variations are no more revealing in this regard than variations between Mark and Matthew in “nonliturgical sections.”

Appeal to liturgical influence is commonplace in current NT scholarship, and therefore the frequent assumption of such influence lends credibility to the claim; this, however, is in urgent need of reexamination. There may have been considerable diversity in the formulations used in church worship even within each congregation, as today in many nonliturgical denominations. Once again, we must confess that our sources are inadequate for a confident conclusion. What is certain is that Jesus bids us commemorate, not his birth, nor his life, nor his miracles, but his death (vv.26–29; cf. 20:28).

26While they were eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to his disciples, saying, “Take and eat; this is my body.”

27Then he took the cup, gave thanks and offered it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you. 28This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. 29I tell you, I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it anew with you in my Father’s kingdom.”

30When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.

COMMENTARY

26 This is the second thing Matthew records that takes place “while they were eating” (cf. v.21). Jesus takes artos, which can refer to “bread” generally (4:4; 6:11; 15:2, 26) but more commonly refers to a loaf or cake (4:3; 12:4; 14:17, 19; 15:33–34; 16:5–12). This loaf was unleavened (cf. Ex 12:15; 13:3, 7; Dt 16:3). He then gives thanks, probably with some such traditional formula as “Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who bringest forth bread from the earth.” He breaks it, distributes it (if the imperfect indicative variant is original, it may imply that he personally gave the bread to each of them), and says, “Take and eat; this is my body.”

Few clauses of four words have evoked more debate than the last one. But three things must be said.

1. The words “this is my body” had no place in the Passover ritual; as an innovation, they must have had stunning effect, an effect that would grow with the increased understanding gained after Easter.

2. Both the breaking and the distributing are probably significant. The bread (body) is broken, and all must partake of it. The sacrificial overtones are clearer in vv.27–28, but the unambiguous sacrificial language connected with Jesus’ blood requires that v.26 be interpreted in a similar way.

3. Much of the debate on the force of “is” (In what sense is the bread Jesus’ body?) is anachronistic. The verb itself has a wide semantic range and proves very little. “Take this, it means my body” (Moffatt) has its attractions, though it is scarcely less ambiguous. But what must be remembered is that this is a Passover meal. The new rite Jesus institutes has links with redemption history. As the bread has just been broken, so will Jesus’ body be broken; and just as the people of Israel associated their deliverance from Egypt with eating the paschal meal prescribed as a divine ordinance, so also Messiah’s people are to associate Jesus’ redemptive death with eating this bread by Jesus’ authority. On the development of the theology of the Lord’s Supper across the centuries, see Howard Clarke’s admirable summary (Gospel of Matthew and Its Readers, 207–19); at greater length, see Gordon T. Smith, ed., The Lord’s Supper: Five Views (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity, 2008).

27 Assuming this is a Passover meal, this “cup” (with or without the article, by assimilation to Mk 14:23 or Lk 22:17 respectively) is probably the third, the “cup of blessing.” Jesus again gives thanks, probably with some such prayer as “Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, Creator of the fruit of the vine.” The wine was not grape juice, though it was customary to cut the wine with a double or triple quantity of water. Unlike Mark, Matthew records not the performance but the command: “Drink from it, all of you.” As in Luke and Paul, this has the effect of describing exclusively what Jesus did, not what the disciples did. It should be noted that the participle eucharistēsas (“gave thanks”), cognate with eucharistia (“thanksgiving”), has given us the word “Eucharist.” Some Protestants have avoided the term because of its associations with the traditional Roman Catholic Mass, but the term itself is surely not objectionable.

28 This verse is rich in allusions; so attempts to narrow down its OT background to but one passage are reductionistic. “Blood” and “covenant” are found together in only two OT passages (Ex 24:8; Zec 9:11). Lindars (New Testament Apologetic, 132–33) represents those who think the allusion must be to the latter, because allusion to the former would presuppose a typological exegesis not used so early in the tradition. But this fails to reckon with the extensive use of typology at Qumran, and the textual affinities are clearly in favor of Exodus 24:8 (see Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 57–58; Moo, Old Testament in the Gospel Passion Narratives, 301–11.). The conclusion seems to be that, once again, we can penetrate near the heart of Jesus’ own understanding of his relation to the OT (see

This means that Jesus understands the violent and sacrificial death he is about to undergo (i.e., his “blood”; cf. Morris, Apostolic Preaching, 112–28; A. M. Stibbs, The Meaning of the Word ‘Blood’ in Scripture [London: Tyndale, 1954]) as the ratification of the covenant he is inaugurating with his people, even as Moses in Exodus 24:8 ratified the covenant of Sinai by the shedding of blood. “Covenant” is thus a crucial category (cf. NIDNTT, 1:365–72; Ridderbos, Coming of the Kingdom, 200–201; Morris, Apostolic Preaching, 65–111; John J. Hughes, “Hebrews ix 15ff. and Galatians iii 15ff.; a Study in Covenant Practice and Procedure,” NovT 21 [1979]: 27–96; cf. Heb 8:1–13; 9:11–10:18, 29; 13:20). The event through which Messiah saves his people from their sins (1:21) is his sacrificial death, and the resulting relation between God and the messianic community is definable in terms of covenant, an agreement with stipulations—promises of blessing and sustenance and threats of cursing, all brought here into legal force by the shedding of blood.

Luke and Paul use the adjective “new” before covenant and thus allude to Jeremiah 31:31–34. Mark almost certainly omits the adjective; the textual evidence for the word in Matthew is finely divided. But the passage from Jeremiah was almost certainly in Jesus’ mind, as Matthew reports him, because “for the forgiveness of sins” reflects Jeremiah 31:34. Matthew has already shown his grasp of the significance of Jesus’ allusion to covenant terminology in general and to the “new covenant” in particular; in 2:18 (see

The words to peri pollōn ekchynnomenon (“which is poured out for many”) could not fail to be understood as a reference to the Passover sacrifice in which so much blood had just been “poured out” (see ). They also connote other sacrificial implications (e.g., Lev 1–7, 16), especially significant since at least Jesus’ crucifixion did entail much bloodshed. The Mishnah (Pesaḥ. 10:6), which in this instance may well preserve traditions alive in Jesus’ day, uses Exodus 24:8 to interpret the Passover wine as a metaphor for blood that seals a covenant between God and his people. Jeremias (Eucharistic Words, 222ff.) theorizes that the reason no mention is made of the Passover lamb in our accounts is that Jesus had already identified himself as the Lamb. This is possible because the failure to mention the lamb in any of the Synoptics is startling. But like most arguments from silence, it falls short of proof. Yet the allusions to the Passover—not least being the timing of the Last Supper—are cumulatively compelling.

It appears, then, that Jesus understands the covenant he is introducing to be the fulfillment of Jeremiah’s prophecies and the antitype of the Sinai covenant. His sacrifice is thus foretold both in redemption history and in the prophetic word. The exodus becomes a “type” of a new and greater deliverance; and as the people of God in the OT prospectively celebrated in the first Passover their escape from Egypt, anticipating their arrival in the Promised Land, so the people of God here prospectively celebrate their deliverance from sin and bondage, anticipating the coming kingdom (see ).

Some take the preposition peri (“for [many]”) to mean “on account of many” or “because of many” (BDF, para. 229 [1]). But it is more likely equivalent in meaning to the hyper (NIV, “for [many]”) of the parallel in Mark (Moule, Idiom Book, 63; Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 96) and possibly has the force of anti in 20:28 (cf. Morris, Apostolic Preaching, 63, 172, 204, 206). As Karl Barth noted, the three prepositions point to Christ’s “activity as our Representative and Substitute.... They cannot be understood if—quite apart from the particular view of the atonement made in him which dominates these passages—we do not see that in general these prepositions speak of a place which ought to be ours, that we ought to have taken this place, that we have been taken from it, that it is occupied by another, that this other acts in this place as only he can, in our cause and interest” (quoted in Morris, Apostolic Preaching, 63). For “many,” see

“For the forgiveness of sins” (cf. Heb 9:22) occurs in the words of institution only in Matthew and alludes to Jeremiah 31:31–34. Because the identical phrase is found in Mark 1:4 to describe the purpose of John’s baptism but is omitted from the parallel in Matthew (3:1–2, 11), many suggest that Matthew purposely suppressed the phrase there because he wanted to attach it here and connect it exclusively to the work of Jesus Messiah. This is possible. NT writers understand that repentance and forgiveness of sin are tied together as tightly in the OT as in the period following Jesus’ death, even though Jesus’ death provides the real basis for forgiveness, a basis long promised by revelatory word, cultic act, and redemptive event. In one sense, Mark might be willing to speak of John’s baptism as a “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,” while in another, Matthew might be more interested in the ultimate ground of that “forgiveness of sin” and so reserve the phrase for Jesus. But several cautions should be kept in mind.

1. Matthew so regularly condenses Mark that it is usually risky to base too much on an omission.

2. Even in Matthew, John’s baptism requires repentance (3:11) that demands confession of sin (3:6). It is hard to believe that Matthew thought that those who thus repented and confessed their sins were not forgiven!

3. Matthew may have slightly abbreviated the report of the Baptist’s preaching (3:2) to maintain formal similarity to Jesus’ early preaching (4:17).

4. In any case, a more important connection with v.28 is to be found in 1:21. It is by Jesus’ death, by the pouring out of his blood, that he will save his people from their sins.

One more OT allusion is worth emphasizing. As in 20:28, it is very probable that Jesus is also portraying himself as Isaiah’s Suffering Servant (cf. Moo, Old Testament in the Gospel Passion Narratives, 127–32; France, “Servant of the Lord,” 37–39). This is based on three things: (1) “my blood of the covenant” calls to mind that the servant is twice presented as “a covenant for the people” (Isa 42:6; 49:8)—i.e., he will reestablish the covenant; (2) ekchynnomenon (“poured out,” GK 1772) may well reflect Isaiah 53:12; and (3) “for many” again recalls the work of the Servant in Isaiah 52:13–53:12 (see

29 The “fruit of the vine” is a common Jewish way of referring in prayers to wine (cf. m. Ber. 6:1). Contrary to Jeremias (Eucharistic Words, 207–18), Jesus’ promise does not mean that he is abstaining from the cup of wine in this first “Lord’s Supper” (cf. Hill). Rather, just as the first Passover looks forward not only to deliverance but to settlement in the land, so also the Lord’s Supper looks forward to deliverance and life in the consummated kingdom. The disciples will keep this celebration until Jesus comes (cf. 1Co 11:26); but Jesus will not participate in it with them until the consummation, when he will sit down with them at the messianic banquet (Isa 25:6; 1 En. 72:14; see

The four cups were meant to correspond to the fourfold promise of Exodus 6:6–7. The third cup, the “cup of blessing” used by Jesus in the words of institution, is thus associated with redemption (Ex 6:6); but the fourth cup corresponds to the promise “I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God” (Ex 6:7; cf. Daube, New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism, 330–31; Lane, Mark, 508–9). Thus Jesus is simultaneously pledging that he will drink the “bitter cup” immediately ahead of him and vowing not to drink the cup of consummation, the cup that promises the divine presence, until the kingdom in all its fullness has been ushered in. Then he will drink the cup with his people. This is a veiled farewell and implies a sustained absence (see

30 The “hymn” normally sung was the last part of the Hallel (Pss 114–18 or 115–18). It was sung antiphonally. Jesus as the leader would sing the lines, and his followers would respond with “Hallelujah!” Parts of it must have been deeply moving to the disciples when after the resurrection they remembered that Jesus sang words pledging that he would keep his vows (Ps 116:12–13), ultimately triumph despite rejection (Ps 118), and call all nations to praise Yahweh and his covenant love (Ps 117). It may be that Jewish exegesis had already interpreted Psalm 118:25–26 as a reference to Messiah’s parousia (Jeremias, Eucharistic Words, 255–62).

NOTES

29 BDF, para. 12 (3), points out that ἀπάρτι (aparti) is ambiguous. It should most likely be taken as ἀπ᾽ ἄρτι (ap’ arti; NIV, “from now on”), but it could be construed as Ionic and Attic ἀπαρτί (aparti, “exactly,” “certainly”), as, possibly, in Revelation 14:13. But the customary rendering fits the context well and should be given the benefit of the doubt.

OVERVIEW

Mark (14:27–31) and Matthew place this pericope after Jesus and his disciples have left the Upper Room. Luke (22:31–38) implies that its contents occur before the departure for the Mount of Olives; John (13:36–38) clearly places it during the supper and before the farewell discourse. The abruptness with which Mark begins this pericope suggests that he displaced it, perhaps to keep intact the theological coherence of the preceding pericope. Matthew does the same thing and for the same reason: this use of tote (“then”) is inconsequential (see

31Then Jesus told them, “This very night you will all fall away on account of me, for it is written:

“‘I will strike the shepherd,

and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.’

32But after I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee.”

33Peter replied, “Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will.”

34“I tell you the truth,” Jesus answered, “this very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.”

35But Peter declared, “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.” And all the other disciples said the same.

COMMENTARY

31 “This very night” makes clear how very soon the disciples’ defection and Peter’s denial will happen. The intimacy of the Last Supper is shortly to be replaced by disloyalty and cowardice. The disciples will all “fall away” on account of Jesus. They will find him an obstacle to devotion and will forsake him (for the verb, see

Yet Jesus’ words “for it is written” show that the disciples’ defection, though tragic and irresponsible, does not fall outside God’s sovereign plan. The textual questions relating to Zechariah 13:7 are complex (cf. Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 25–28; Moo, Old Testament in the Gospel Passion Narratives, 182ff.; Blomberg, “Matthew,” in CNTUOT; see Jn 16:32): apparently the quotation rests on a pre-Christian recension of the LXX or on the MT (Ham, Coming King, 213), or on some combination of both. There is no reason to think that Zechariah’s words have been altered to fit the events of Jesus’ passion and thereby accord with Christian tradition to make the “prophecy” after the event seem to be scriptural (Jeremias, New Testament Theology, 297–98). The change to the future pataxō (“I will strike”) from the imperative pataxate (“strike”) is the only word that provides nominal support for this theory. However, the grammatical change was probably necessitated by the omission of a definite subject when the Zechariah passage was condensed (France, Jesus and the Old Testament, 107–8), rather than by the pressure of an ex eventu “prophecy” or by a stress on the divine initiative for theological reasons—something already accomplished by “it is written.” Even if it is the “sword” that does the striking in the MT, it does so at Yahweh’s command.

Matthew alone (cf. Mark) includes “of the flock” in the second line of the quotation (following LXX), but to what does “the flock” refer? In light of the context of Zechariah 13:1–6, many have suggested that a wicked prophet is in view there. But this is incompatible with “the man who is close to me [i.e., to Yahweh]” (Zec 13:7b). Instead, Yahweh pictures a day when, owing to the prevailing apostasy, the Shepherd who is close to him (as opposed to the false shepherd in Zec 11) is cut down and the sheep scattered. In 13:8–9 most of the sheep perish; but one-third are left, after being refined, to become “my people”—those who will say, “Yahweh is our God.” If Jesus’ quotation of Zechariah in the Gospels presupposes the full context of Zechariah 13:7, then the rejected Shepherd theme of Zechariah 9–11 is assumed, and the disciples themselves join Israel, the sheep of God, in being scattered as the result of the “striking” of the Shepherd. Their falling away “this very night” continues to the cross and beyond and is emblematic of the coming dispersion of the whole nation. But a purified remnant, a “third,” will survive the refining and make up the people of God, “my people.” Thus, at the very instant Jesus’ disciples show by their scattering that they temporarily side with the unbelieving and apostate nation, God is taking action to make them his true people.

32 Lohmeyer originated the notion that this verse refers to Jesus’ future parousia, not his resurrection appearances. The Parousia is to take place, Lohmeyer thinks, in Galilee. But R. H. Stein (“A Short Note on Mark xiv.28 and xvi.7,” NTS 20 [1974]: 445–52) has conclusively shown that v.32 must refer to a resurrection appearance. Others see in the verb proagō (which may mean either “will go ahead” [NIV] or “will lead” [as does a shepherd]) a continuation of the shepherd imagery. But the most natural way to take the verse, and one that vitiates the frequent insistence that it ill suits its context, is that of Stonehouse (Witness of Matthew, 170–73). The prediction that the shepherd will be stricken and the sheep scattered might suggest, apart from any further word, that the disciples would return disconsolate to their homes in Galilee, leaving Jesus behind in a grave in Judea. But this new word (v.32) promises that after Jesus has risen, he will arrive in Galilee before they get there; he will “go ahead of [them].”

33 Some have objected that Jesus’ prediction of the scattering of all the disciples (v.31) conflicts with Peter’s following Jesus into the high priest’s courtyard (e.g., G. Klein, “Die Verleugnung des Petrus: Eine traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung,” ZTK 58 [1961]: 297; M. Wilcox, “The Denial-Sequence in Mark xiv.26–31, 66–72,” NTS 17 [1970–71]: 426–36). But this overlooks the fact that all the disciples actually fled (v.56) and that Peter followed only “at a distance” (v.58) and then denied Jesus. At the end of the day, all the sheep were scattered; all had fallen away.

Peter does not respond directly to Jesus’ quotation, nor to his promise to meet him in Galilee. But this does not mean that vv.31b–32 are misplaced redactional additions, for Peter’s reply is psychologically convincing. On the one hand, he has learned more about Jesus than he knew at Caesarea Philippi (16:21–28); as a result he is able to accept the idea of suffering for both Jesus and himself. On the other hand, his notion of suffering is bound up with the heroism of men like the Maccabean martyrs, not with voluntary sacrifice—hence v.51 (cf. Jn 18:10). He is prepared for suffering but is not yet ready for what he thinks of as defeat. More important, he reacts on a primal level to Jesus’ prediction in v.31a: “It would be natural for him to be too taken up with the implied slur on his loyalty to pay much attention to anything else” (Cranfield, Mark, 429).

34 Jesus’ “I tell you the truth” (see

35 The language of Peter’s protest (the rare subjunctive of dei) shows that he does not really think that Jesus’ death is likely; he still has his visions of heroism. Nor is he alone in his brash protestations of loyalty—only quicker and more vehement than his peers.

OVERVIEW

Scholars usually see in this pericope an exhortation to foster vigilance and prayerfulness in the face of temptation (cf. Mk 14:32–42; Lk 22:40–46; Jn 12:28–33; 13:21; 16:32). Though this is doubtless present, far more central is the light the pericope sheds on Jesus’ perception of what he is about to do. If the exegesis of v.39 is correct, we must ask why this Jesus who has for so long calmly faced the prospect of death (16:21; 17:22–23; 20:17–19; 26:1–2) should now seem to be less courageous than the Maccabean martyrs or the many thousands of his disciples who have faced martyrdom with great courage. The anguish in Gethsemane is not lightly to be passed over; three times Jesus prayed in deep emotional distress. The answer is found even in this first gospel. The pericope must be interpreted in light of 1:21 and 20:28, on the one hand, and, on the other, in light of the reader’s recognition that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, “God with us,” whose sacrificial death inaugurates the new covenant (vv.26–30) and redeems his people from their sins. Small wonder that NT writers make much of Jesus’ unique and redemptive death (Ro 3:21–26; 4:25; 5:6, 9; 1Co 1:23; 2Co 5:21; Heb 2:18; 4:15; 5:7–9; 1Pe 2:24).

Jesus did not suffer martyrdom. Can anyone imagine the words of v.53 on the lips of a Maccabean martyr? Many of Jesus’ followers throughout the centuries willingly suffer martyrdom because of the strength Jesus’ death and resurrection give them. But Jesus went to his death knowing that it was his Father’s will that he face death completely alone (27:46) as the sacrificial, wrath-averting Passover Lamb. As his death was unique, so also was his anguish; and our best response to it is hushed worship (see K. Schilder, Christ in His Suffering [trans. H. Zylstra; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1938], 289–309); J. I. Packer and Mark Dever, In My Place Condemned He Stood: Celebrating the Glory of the Atonement [Wheaton, Ill.: Crossway, 2008], not least the extensive bibliography by Ligon Duncan).

36Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” 37He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. 38Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”

39Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

40Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Could you men not keep watch with me for one hour?” he asked Peter. 41“Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.”

42He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.”

43When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. 44So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.

45Then he returned to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour is near, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. 46Rise, let us go! Here comes my betrayer!”

COMMENTARY

36–38 “Gethsemane” means “oil press,” from which the chōrion (“place”; usually a field or an enclosed piece of ground [cf. Jn 18:4, “went out”] to which the press was attached) derived its name. Jesus and his disciples often frequented this spot (Jn 18:1–2) on the western slopes of Mount Olivet, separated from Jerusalem by the Kidron. Eight disciples remain at some distance, perhaps outside the enclosure, and the inner three join him (v.37). Jesus, with stern self-control, has so far masked his anguish; now he begins “to be sorrowful [lypeisthai, which connotes deep grief] and troubled” (adēmonein, found in the NT only here, in the par. in Mk 14:33, and in Php 2:26, and connoting deep distress).

Jesus’ next words—“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow” (v.38)—are almost a quotation from the refrain of Psalms 42–43 (LXX). The phrase heōs thanatou (“to the point of death”) is so common in the LXX (e.g., Isa 38:1) that it should not be thought an allusion to Jonah 4:9 (contra Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 59) but “merely a reflection of the OT-tinged language which Jesus used” (Moo, Old Testament in the Gospel Passion Narratives, 241). It suggests a sorrow so deep it almost kills (Taylor, Mark, 553; Hill; and many others), not that Jesus is so sorrowful he would rather be dead (contra Bultmann, TDNT, 4:323 n. 2). Having revealed his deepest emotions and thus given his disciples the most compelling of reasons to do what he asks, he tells them to stay and “keep watch with me” while he goes a little farther on to pray alone. His words could be taken as no more than a request to protect him from intrusion in his deep anguish (cf. many older commentaries). But his words “with me” (only in Matthew) imply that he wanted them to keep awake and go on praying.

39 Jesus prays, prostrate in his intense anguish. He addresses God as “my Father” (see

In one sense, all things are possible with God (cf. Mk 14:36; see

Blaising (“Gethsemane,” 337) proposed an alternative exegesis. He observes that, whatever the wording in the Synoptics, the conditional clause is grammatically “first class,” a so-called real condition, which he interprets as follows: “This class of condition assumes the condition to be a reality, and the conclusion follows logically and naturally from that assumption” (cf. Grammar, 1007). From this, Blaising concludes that what Jesus is asking for is possible with the Father and that Jesus knows it; so he cannot be asking that the cup (i.e., his passion) not come to him, an impossibility, for Jesus has repeatedly spoken of it, but that the cup not remain with him. In other words, Jesus is tempted to fear that the “cup” of God’s wrath will not pass away from him after he has drunk it but that it will consume him forever, and there would be no resurrection. He prays with faith, because he knows it is the Father’s will: “Father, as you have promised in your Word, take the cup from me after I drink it; yet this is not my will alone; it is your will that this be done” (Blaising, p. 343).

This interpretation has certain attractions, yet along with several questionable details, it has two insuperable difficulties.

1. Despite Blaising’s appeal to A. T. Robertson (i.e., Grammar, 1007), even under this slightly dated classification of conditionals, a first-class condition in Greek does not necessarily assume the reality of the protasis but only that the protasis is as real as the apodosis. The speaker assumes the reality of the protasis for the sake of argument but does not thereby indicate that the condition described in the protasis is, in fact, real. Were Blaising to apply his understanding of first-class conditional clauses to Matthew 12:26–27 and Mark 3:24–26, the result would be theologically incoherent, as Robertson himself recognizes (Grammar, 1008; cf. Zerwick, Biblical Greek, paras. 303ff.).

2. Blaising introduces a novel interpretation, but only the traditional view continues the line of temptation Jesus has earlier found most difficult to confront—namely, the temptation to avoid the cross (see

40–41 Jesus returns to his disciples—i.e., the inner three—and finds them sleeping (Lk 22:45 adds “exhausted from sorrow”). Jesus’ question is addressed to Peter but is in the plural and therefore includes them all (see

It is doubtful that “so that you will not fall into temptation” (v.41) means only “so that you will stay awake and not fall into the temptation to sleep.” Indeed, Jesus’ prediction of their spiritual defection that “very night” (v.31) should have served as an urgent call to prayer. So now he tells them that only urgent prayer will save them from falling into the coming “temptation” (see

42–44 Some interpreters have seen a certain progression in Jesus’ three prayers, but Matthew says that Jesus said “the same thing” (v.44). The variations between v.39 and v.42 must therefore be incidental. “May your will be done” mirrors one of the petitions of the prayer Jesus taught his disciples (6:10). As Jesus learned obedience (Heb 5:7–9), so he became the supreme model for his own teaching. In the first garden, “Not your will but mine” changed paradise to desert and brought man from Eden to Gethsemane. Now “Not my will but yours” brings anguish to the man who prays it but transforms the desert into the kingdom and brings man from Gethsemane to the gates of glory.

45–46 The word loipon as an adverb does not naturally mean “still” (NIV) or “meanwhile” but points to the future (“henceforth”) or is inferential (“it follows that”). Therefore, Jesus’ words should not be taken as a question (NIV) but as a gently ironic command (see KJV, “Sleep on now, and take your rest”; cf. the irony in 23:23; see Moule, Idiom Book, 161). The hour of the passion is near: it is too late to pray and gain strength for the temptations ahead. His disciples may as well sleep. The Son of Man (see

NOTES

39 The distinctions Thrall (Greek Particles, 67–70) draws between Mark’s (14:36) ἀλλά (alla, “but”) and Matthew’s πλήν (plēn, “but”) are dubious because the former adversative particle has so broad a semantic range.

41 If the ἵνα (hina, “that”) clause is dependent only on the verb “pray,” then it is probably not final (as in 5:29) and gives the content of the prayer. If it depends on “watch and pray” together, it may have telic force.

43 The periphrastic pluperfect ἦσαν ... βεβαρημένοι (ēsan ... bebarēmenoi, lit., “were having been weighed down”; NIV, “were heavy”) provides a good instance in which the perfect passive participle probably has no more than adjectival force (cf. Moule, Idiom Book, 19)—or, better put, it should be read in line with aspect theory as expressing stativity, not in some complex and unbelievable temporal grid.

47While he was still speaking, Judas, one of the Twelve, arrived. With him was a large crowd armed with swords and clubs, sent from the chief priests and the elders of the people. 48Now the betrayer had arranged a signal with them: “The one I kiss is the man; arrest him.” 49Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and kissed him.

50Jesus replied, “Friend, do what you came for.”

Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him. 51With that, one of Jesus’ companions reached for his sword, drew it out and struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear.

52“Put your sword back in its place,” Jesus said to him, “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. 53Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? 54But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?”

55At that time Jesus said to the crowd, “Am I leading a rebellion, that you have come out with swords and clubs to capture me? Every day I sat in the temple courts teaching, and you did not arrest me. 56But this has all taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled.” Then all the disciples deserted him and fled.

COMMENTARY

47 Judas Iscariot (see

48–50 The need for pointing out the right man was especially acute, not only because it was dark, but because, in a time long before photography, the faces of even great celebrities would not be nearly as widely known as today. To identify Jesus, Judas chose the kiss (thereby turning it into a symbol of betrayal). “Greetings, Rabbi!” (v.49; see

“Friend” (v.50) is an openhearted but not intimate greeting. Brown (Death of the Messiah, 256–57) stresses the ironic function in all its uses in Matthew (cf. 20:13; 22:12). The next words, eph ho parei (“what you came for”), are notoriously ambiguous. If the relative pronoun ho functions as a direct interrogative pronoun, the expression means “Why [lit., ‘for what’] have you come?” (NIV text note; cf. Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 223; Turner, Insights, 69–71; idem, Syntax, 49–50; BDF, paras. 495–96), and some verb like “do” must he supplied (NIV text; cf. BDF, para. 300 [2]). If the clause is an imperatival statement, its force is like John 13:27 and reflects Jesus’ newly regained poise and his sovereignty in these events. If it is a question, it elicits no information but administers a rebuke steeped in the irony of professed ignorance that knows very well why Judas has come.

51–54 “With that” is the NIV’s acceptable effort to render idou in this context (cf. “Look,” v.45; “Here,” v.46; untranslated, v.47; see

1. The restraint belongs to Jesus, not the pericope. Moreover, we have already seen that earlier protestations of loyalty (vv.33–35) were probably grounded in some form of nationalistic messianism; so Peter’s response is scarcely unexpected.

2. Peter’s response is psychologically convincing. After repeated warnings of defection, Peter may have felt that the crucial test of loyalty had arrived. He is magnificent and pathetic—magnificent because he rushes in to defend Jesus with characteristic courage and impetuousness, pathetic because his courage evaporates when Jesus undoes Peter’s damage, forbids violence, and faces the passion without resisting.

3. However one interprets the difficult verses in Luke 22:36–38, they show that the disciples had two swords with them; if Peter actually wielded the sword, other disciples had the same idea (Lk 22:49). On the likelihood of a disciple carrying a sword, see Brown, Death of the Messiah, 268–71.

4. There were probably many reasons why Peter was not arrested. Jesus not only quickly cooled the situation but healed the wound (omitted by Matthew). It was one thing to escort a nonresisting prisoner quietly back to the city; it was another to escort twelve men, eleven of them frightened and ready to fight. In any case, before decisive action could be taken, the disciples fled in the darkness (v.56).

5. Over the centuries, pious Christian imaginations have provided names for those not named in the NT (cf. B. M. Metzger, “Names for the Nameless in the New Testament,” in New Testament Studies [ed. Metzger], 23–43). Within the NT the evidence is mixed. Whatever order the Synoptics were written in, we must note that Matthew may preserve a name omitted by Mark (Mt 26:57; Mk 14:53) or drop a name preserved by Mark (Mt 9:18; Mk 5:22). Matthew and Luke both drop Mark’s Bartimaeus (Mk 10:46) and Alexander and Rufus (Mk 15:21). Add to this the fact that many scholars now insist that John does not represent late tradition, and there remains little reason for skepticism concerning this sorry scene.

Some take Jesus’ response—“for all who draw the sword will die by the sword” (v.52)—as a call to pacifism, whereas others observe that Jesus told Peter to put his sword “back in its place,” not to throw it away. Both views ask the text to answer questions of no immediate relevance. The least we can say is that violence in defense of Christ is completely unjustified; certainly v.52 separates Jesus from the Zealots. “Whether these words ... can be taken as the basis for a thoroughgoing pacifism will depend on a wider assessment of the relevant biblical material. But as a proverbial observation (cf. Rev 13:10) on the tendency of violence to recoil on those who perpetrate it Jesus’ aphorism reflects common experience, even though not every historical example conforms to this pattern” (France [NICNT]). Moreover, a simple request to his Father would bring twelve legions of angels (a full Roman legion was six thousand; cf. ZPEB, 3:907–8) to his assistance—perhaps one legion for Jesus and one for each of the Eleven (v.53). This is more than the eyes of faith seeing help, as in 2 Kings 6:17; it is the knowledge that help is available while refusing to use it (cf. Jn 10:18). In addition, Jesus’ stance regarding his own death is grounded on the fact the “Scriptures” (plural, v.54) must be fulfilled (see , ; cf. Lk 24:25–26). This divine “must” (dei) is not for Jesus sheer inevitability, since he still believes it possible to gain instant aid from his Father. Instead, it is the commingling of divine sovereignty and Jesus’ unflagging determination to obey his Father’s will.

Many commentators note that in 1QM 7:6 the angels are represented as joining forces with the righteous at the End. Jesus himself elsewhere pictures angelic participation at the consummation (e.g., 13:41; 24:30–31). But at this point in redemptive history, the angels are not called on. Jesus faces this battle alone, and the consummation of all things is not yet.

55–56 Every day for the preceding week, and presumably on earlier visits to the Holy City, Jesus had been teaching in the temple courts; yet the authorities had not arrested him. Why then do they seize him now as if he were a rebel (lēstēs, GK 3334; see )? The implication is that there is no need to arrest him secretly and violently, except for reasons in their own minds that reveal more about them than about him. “At that time” (lit., “In that hour”) seems a rather heavy-handed transition, but perhaps what follows it was a well-known saying of Jesus among Christians to whom Matthew was writing, and he is pointing out that this was the time when he spoke it.

After questioning the display of force by those who arrested him, Jesus said, “This has all taken place [see

All the disciples then fulfill one specific prophecy (see ) and flee. Mark 14:51–52 adds the account of the young man who flees naked. Probably at this time Jesus is bound (Jn 18:12).

OVERVIEW

Few topics have caused more tension between Jews and Christians than the trial of Jesus. Those who have committed abominable atrocities against the Jews have often based their actions on the ground that Jews are the murderers of their Messiah, or God-killers, and have all too frequently turned to Matthew 27:25 for backing. As a reaction to this reprehensible attitude, more recent study (both Jewish and Christian) has argued that the Jews were very little involved and that most of the blame should be placed on the Romans. An excellent survey of Jewish and Christian exegesis of the trial narratives, from 1770 to the late 1960s, is given by Catchpole (Trial of Jesus); further representative treatments, in addition to commentaries and articles, are included in our bibliography under Blinzler (Trial of Jesus), Sherwin-White (Roman Society, ch. 2), and Benoit (Jesus and the Gospel, 123–66). See also S. G. F. Brandon, The Trial of Jesus of Nazareth (London: Batsford, 1968); E. Bammel, ed., The Trial of Jesus (London: SCM Press, 1970); Haim Cohn, The Trial and Death of Jesus (New York: Ktav, 1977); Paul Winter, On the Trial of Jesus (2nd ed.; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1974).

Though there is no consensus, the dominant view in current scholarship runs something like this: The four gospel accounts of the trial before the Sanhedrin cannot readily be reconciled. But the fourth gospel, though making clear that both Jewish and Roman authorities were involved from the beginning (Jn 18:3, 12), stresses that the Sanhedrin did not have the power to inflict the death penalty (Jn 18:31) and places much more emphasis on the Roman trial. By contrast, the Synoptics lay more blame on the Jews, and Matthew goes so far as to tell us that Pilate washed his hands of the whole affair, while the Jews called down curses on themselves (27:24–25). On the face of it, John’s account is the more historically reliable, whereas the Synoptics are more seriously tainted by later church-synagogue tensions. In short, anti-Semitism has colored their narratives.

This is confirmed, it is alleged, when all the illegalities of the Jewish proceedings are noted. The Mishnah (Sanh.) makes it clear that legal procedure in capital cases forbade night trials, required at least two consecutive days, and provided for private interrogation of witnesses. The breaches in law are so numerous as to be unbelievable, and one Jewish writer (Cohn, Trial and Death of Jesus) has gone so far in reconstructing the evidence that he concludes the Sanhedrin actually tried to save Jesus from the Roman courts. Any trace of evidence that counters this thesis he ascribes to the polemic of later deteriorating church-synagogue relationships, compounded with the natural desire in Christian writers to avoid blaming the powerful Roman authorities.

Yet some things must not be overlooked.

1. The problem of illegalities in Jesus’ trial is more complex than is customarily recognized. We have already shown (see Reflections, ) that executions under certain circumstances could take place on a major feast day. Other irregularities include (1) the proceedings that apparently took place in Caiaphas’s home, not the temple precincts; (2) Jesus’ not being offered a defense attorney; (3) his being charged with blasphemy without actually blaspheming in the legally defined sense, which required that the accused actually pronounce the name of God; (4) the verdict’s being rushed through at night without the minimum two days required in capital cases, which had the effect of banning the new opening of capital trials from the day before Sabbaths or festival days (m. Sanh. 4:1). But quite apart from the difficult problem of dating Mishnaic traditions—for the sake of argument we may agree that they all date back to the beginning of the first century or earlier—five factors challenge the idea that legal considerations invalidate the authenticity of the Gospels on these points.

a. Some Mishnaic stipulations, not least in the tractate Sanhedrin, are almost certainly theoretical formulations only, which never had the force of obeyed law. Is there any independent historical evidence, for instance, that “burnings” of the sort described in Sanhedrin 7:2 ever took place?

b. Dalman (Jesus-Jeshua, 98–100) provides references to other occasions of flagrant breach of judicial regulations on the ground that “the hour demands it.”

c. Similarly, there is evidence that expediency partially motivated the religious authorities (cf. Jn 11:49–50). This could account for numerous irregularities. If the leaders feared mob violence, haste was required. Moreover, it was legitimate to execute certain criminals on feast days but not on the Sabbath. If Jesus was arrested Thursday night (Friday by Jewish reckoning), things had to move swiftly if he was to be buried by dusk on Friday, the onset of Sabbath. An all-night session of the Jewish authorities was demanded by the fact that Roman officials like Pilate worked very early in the morning and then refused to take on new cases for the rest of the day. If Jesus could not be presented to Pilate by early Friday morning, the case would drag on until after Sabbath—along with mounting risks of mob violence.

d. The sources are sufficiently difficult that we do not know the precise relationship between the Pharisees of Jesus’ day and the rabbis who compiled Mishnah. Even if Sigal (Halakhah of Jesus; see Introduction, ) has exaggerated the distinctions, we may not always be wise in reading rabbinic regulations back into Jesus’ day. For instance, the narrow and technical definitions of blasphemy in Mishnah may not have been popular with all Pharisees. After all, large parts of the population held to extraordinarily broad notions of blasphemy: Josephus (Ant. 20.108 [5.2]) records that an angry crowd accused a Roman soldier of blasphemy because he had exposed his genitals to them. And we have no evidence for the way the Sadducees understood blasphemy.

e. We may go farther. A strong, if not entirely convincing, case can be made for distinguishing between “Sanhedrin” and “Beth Din.” The NT speaks of the former; the relevant Mishnaic tractate, though traditionally called Sanhedrin, in fact speaks almost thirty times of the latter and only three times of the former. From this, some have deduced that what the Gospels describe is not the “Sanhedrin” in the religious, scholarly sense but the “Sanhedrin” that was essentially political and, to some extent, corrupt (cf. E. Rivkin, “Beth Din, Boule, Sanhedrin: A Tragedy of Errors,” HUCA 46 [1975]: 181–99). Even if this distinction does not prove valid, it must be admitted that “a way of removing an undesirable enemy is usually found when the will is there” (S. Rosenblatt, “The Crucifixion of Jesus from the Standpoint of Pharisaic Law,” JBL 75 [1956]: 319 [though Rosenblatt does not accept the accounts as we have them in the Gospels]). Catchpole (Trial of Jesus, 268–69) has convincingly shown that “the debate about illegalities should be regarded as a dead end, and at most able to make only a minor contribution.”

2. More distinction is found between John and the Synoptics and between Matthew and Mark-Luke than is actually there. Although John places more emphasis on the Roman trial, only in John 19:12, and never in the Synoptics, do we find the Jews manipulating Pilate in order to secure a guilty verdict and a capital sentence. It is surely false to attribute the lesser prominence of Pilate in the Synoptics to Christian concern to get on with Rome; for long before the evangelists wrote, Pilate was deposed and banished by Rome. Moreover, it is not at all clear that Matthew sees 27:24 as an effective absolution for Pilate. Matthew frequently records denunciations of hypocrisy and expects persecution from Gentile “governors and kings” (10:18–19). Equally, it is not at all clear that 27:25 should be interpreted to mean that all Jews remain under a continuing curse. The first disciples were Jews to a man; and the fact that Matthew clearly insists the authorities were afraid of mob action (26:3–5) shows he understands that many Jews were enthusiastically, if superficially, for Jesus, even if few of them were committed disciples.

3. But if such sharp distinctions between John’s treatment of the trial and that of the Synoptics are scarcely supported by the text, even less defensible are sharp disjunctions. The attempt to blame the Romans and exonerate the Jews finds little support in the fourth gospel; but even if it were an unquestionable theme there, responsible historiography attempts a synthesis of the sources, not a priori historical disjunctions—one of the classic “historians’ fallacies” (cf. Fischer, Historians’ Fallacies). And a believable synthesis is indeed possible (see below).

4. John 18:31, frequently cited to absolve the Sanhedrin, is not only historically credible (cf. Sherwin-White, Roman Society, 35–43; Catchpole, Trial of Jesus, 247–48) but also provides an important clue to the roles played by Jews and Romans. All the gospels attest, repeatedly and in highly diverse ways, that many Jewish leaders wanted Jesus’ removal because of his claims of messianic authority, coupled with his popularity among the populace at large and the unexpected kind of “messiah” he was proving to be—and especially his failure to show more respect to the religious authorities. When he finally came into their hands, political circumstances forced them to seek the death sentence from Pilate. For this purpose, it was necessary for the Jewish leaders to tinge the charges against Jesus with political color. Thus he was made to seem less a Messiah than a competitor of Caesar. Only by a very selective handling of the evidence (e.g., Brandon, Trial of Jesus) can one conclude that the political charge came first, making Jesus some kind of Zealot rebel.

5. The Holocaust and other atrocities have blinded the eyes of both Jewish and Christian historians. Not a few modern Jews insist that the Holocaust is the result of centuries of bigoted Christian tradition and that Christian solidarity entails corporate Christian guilt. Yet they would be loath to assume that Jewish solidarity entails for the Jewish race a corporate Jewish guilt because of the contribution of a few Jews to the death of Jesus. Meanwhile Christian historians, alive to the legacy of Western Christendom’s persecution of the Jews, are embarrassed into making irresponsible judgments against the historical evidences as a sort of atonement for past injustices. It is easier to blame the Romans, who are not present to defend themselves, than to face the survivors of the Holocaust with unpleasant historical realities. The wisest scholars of both sides have seen this. The Jewish scholar Samuel Sandmel (We Jews and Jesus [New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 1965], 141) writes, “Perhaps we might be willing to say to ourselves that it is not at all impossible that some Jews, even leading Jews, recommended the death of Jesus to Pilate. We are averse to saying this to ourselves, for so total has been the charge against us that we have been constrained to make a total denial.”

It is helpful to remember that, whatever Christendom has done, the NT writers, most if not all of whom were Jews, can scarcely or reasonably be labeled “anti-Semitic.” Matthew and the other evangelists certainly blame some Jews for Jesus’ death. They also blame some Romans. But the reasons for the blame are historical, theological, spiritual—not ethnic. The Twelve are Jews; and after the crucifixion, a Jew from Arimathea (27:57–60) shows great concern for Jesus’ burial. The NT writers assess people by their response to Jesus, whom they have come to know as King Messiah and Son of God, not by their race.

6. From the viewpoint of NT theology, Christians must repeatedly remind themselves of two things. First, from a theological perspective, every Christian is as guilty of putting Jesus on the cross as Caiaphas. Thoughtful believers will surely admit that their own guilt is the more basic of the two, for if we believe Matthew’s witness, and Jesus could have escaped the clutches of Caiaphas (v.53), then what drove Jesus to the cross was his commitment to the Father’s redemptive purposes. While this does not excuse Caiaphas and his peers, it keeps Christians from supercilious judgment of the Jews. Second, even if first-century Christians, whether Jews or Gentiles, rightly saw God’s judgment in the destruction of Jerusalem and Judea (AD 66–73), that could not give them the right to put themselves in God’s place and execute his judgment for him. Judgment belongs only to God. Any other view, including that which has often dominated Christendom, fails to recognize essential NT distinctions between the kingdom and the church (see

At this point we should consider one of several ways in which the complementary accounts of Jesus’ passion in our gospels can be reasonably harmonized so as to show how the proceedings against Jesus could have been completed within the few hours the chronology permits. There were two trials—one Jewish and the other Roman. The Jewish trial began with an informal examination by Annas (Jn 18:12–14, 19–23), perhaps while members of the Sanhedrin were being hurriedly gathered. A decision by a session of the Sanhedrin (vv.57–68; Mk 14:53–65) was followed by a formal decision at dawn and a dispatch to Pilate (27:1–2; Lk 22:66–71). The Roman trial began with a first examination before Pilate (vv.11–14; Jn 18:28–38a) and was quickly followed by Herod’s interrogation (Lk 23:6–12) and the final appearance before Pilate (27:15–31; Jn 18:38b–19:16). This reconstruction is merely tentative, but it usefully coordinates the biblical data.

57Those who had arrested Jesus took him to Caiaphas, the high priest, where the teachers of the law and the elders had assembled. 58But Peter followed him at a distance, right up to the courtyard of the high priest. He entered and sat down with the guards to see the outcome.

59The chief priests and the whole Sanhedrin were looking for false evidence against Jesus so that they could put him to death. 60But they did not find any, though many false witnesses came forward.

Finally two came forward 61and declared, “This fellow said, ‘I am able to destroy the temple of God and rebuild it in three days.’”

62Then the high priest stood up and said to Jesus, “Are you not going to answer? What is this testimony that these men are bringing against you?” 63But Jesus remained silent.

The high priest said to him, “I charge you under oath by the living God: Tell us if you are the Christ, the Son of God.”

64“Yes, it is as you say,” Jesus replied. “But I say to all of you: In the future you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven.”

65Then the high priest tore his clothes and said, “He has spoken blasphemy! Why do we need any more witnesses? Look, now you have heard the blasphemy. 66What do you think?”

“He is worthy of death,” they answered.

67Then they spit in his face and struck him with their fists. Others slapped him 68and said, “Prophesy to us, Christ. Who hit you?”

COMMENTARY

57 For the relationship between Annas and Caiaphas, see

Matthew mentions the teachers of the law and the elders; Mark 14:53 adds the chief priests, to whom Matthew refers in v.59. There is probably little significance to such variations, but they warn us against reading too much into particular details. No Pharisees are mentioned, though doubtless many teachers and lay elders belonged to that party. Their absence from Matthew’s passion account is important for two reasons. First, it calls into question theories that pit the Matthean church against “Pharisees” of AD 85; for if Matthew sees the Pharisees as prime enemies of Jesus, why are they not mentioned in this final confrontation? Second, it accurately reflects the little we know about Jerusalem politics at the time. The Pharisees doubtless exercised throughout the land strong theological and social influence and through the synagogues in the towns and villages a great deal of moral persuasion and some political power. But for the Sanhedrin, where the final act of confrontation with Jewish leaders was played out, the shape of power was different. The high priest, almost certainly a Sadducee, presided; the priests, primarily if not exclusively Sadducees, enjoyed large and perhaps dominant influence, and the Pharisees exercised power only through the decision of the entire assembly.

58 Peter followed Jesus “at a distance,” midway between courage (v.51) and cowardice (v.70) (Bengel, Gnomon). John 18:15–16 provides additional information on how Peter secured entrance to the high priest’s courtyard. Peter joined the “servants” (the term is general but probably includes both household servants and temple police—hence the NIV’s “guards”) around the courtyard fire, waiting to see the outcome.

59–63a If there was but one central Sanhedrin (see above), it was composed of three groups: leading priests (see

Many equate this meeting of the Sanhedrin with the one at daybreak described by Luke (22:66–71). But Matthew seems to make a distinction between the two (cf. 27:12). Perhaps the later meeting was in the temple precincts (the usual place) and was more fully attended; if so, Luke may well be conflating the proceedings.

Matthew says the Sanhedrin was looking “for false evidence” (pseudomartyria, v.59, GK 6019) and obtained it from “false witnesses” (pseudomartyres, v.60). It is unlikely this means that the Sanhedrin sought liars only; if so, why not simply fabricate the evidence? Rather, the Sanhedrin, already convinced of Jesus’ guilt, went through the motions of securing evidence against him. When people hate, they readily accept false witness; and the Sanhedrin eventually heard and believed just about what it wanted. Matthew knew that Jesus was not guilty and could not be, so he describes the evidence as “false.”

The two men who came forward (v.60) may or may not have been suborned (cf. Ac 6:11). At least two witnesses were required in a capital case. In Greek, houtos does not necessarily carry a sneering tone (NIV, “This fellow,” v.61; similarly v.71) but may serve as an emphatic pronoun or equivalent to the British “this chap.” Their witness had some element of truth but was evilly motivated and disregarded what Jesus meant in John 2:19–21 (the reference is not to Mt 24:2, where only disciples were present; see

But what do Jesus’ words in John 2:19–21 mean? If Jesus sees himself as the antitype of the Passover lamb, the true Suffering Servant, the revelation of the Father, and the fulfillment of OT Scriptures (e.g., vv.27–30; cf. 5:17–20; 11:25–30), it is not at all unlikely he would also see himself as the true temple, the ultimate point of meeting between God and man. In that case, John’s words accurately reflect Jesus’ thought.

We have penetrated very close to the heart of the dispute between early Christianity and Judaism as attested elsewhere in the NT—a dispute that may be summarized by a series of questions: What is the nature of the continuity between the old covenant and the new? Must Gentiles become Jews before they can become Christians? In what sense and to what degree does the Mosaic law have binding force on Jesus’ followers? The place of the temple is one element in that debate, raised in earliest Christianity (Ac 6:13–14) but traceable back to Jesus himself and a contributing factor to his own condemnation (cf. G. K. Beale, The Temple and the Church’s Mission (NSBT 17; Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity, 2004).

The NIV and NASB are probably correct in translating v.62 as two questions from the high priest (cf. BDF, paras. 298 [4]; 299 [1]). He probably hoped Jesus would incriminate himself. But, true to Isaiah 53:7, Jesus kept silent (v.63a; cf. Moo, Old Testament in the Gospel Passion Narratives, 148–51).

63b The high priest, frustrated by Jesus’ silence, tried a bold stroke that cut to the central issue: Was Jesus the Messiah or was he not? The question has been raised before in one form or another (see

The form of the question in Mark 14:61 is slightly different: “Are you the Christ [see

The outcome is now inevitable. If Jesus refuses to answer, he breaks a legally imposed oath. If he denies he is the Messiah, the crisis is over—but so is his influence. If he affirms it, then, given the commitments of the court, Jesus must be false. After all, how could the true Messiah allow himself to be imprisoned and put in jeopardy? The gospels’ evidence suggests that the Sanhedrin was prepared to see Jesus’ unequivocal claim to messiahship as meriting the death penalty, and their unbelief precluded them from allowing any other possibility.

64 Perhaps this is what is meant by Jesus’ “good confession” (1Ti 6:13). There are four points of interest.

1. Unlike the unambiguous “I am” in Mark 14:62, Matthew uses an expression, found also in 26:25, that many have taken to be purposely ambiguous (e.g., Turner, Insights, 72–75). But David Catchpole (“The Answer of Jesus to Caiaphas (Matt. xxvi.64),” NTS 17 [1970–71]: 213–26) has convincingly shown that the expression is “affirmative in content, and reluctant or circumlocutory in formulation.” Certainly Caiaphas understood it as positive (v.65). The next clause, beginning with plēn legō hymin (“But I say to all of you”), found also in 11:22, 24, means something like “Indeed I tell you”: there is likely no adversative force (Thrall, Greek Particles, 72–78). Instead it expresses an expansion or a qualification (Catchpole, “Answer of Jesus,” 223) of the preceding statement. Jesus speaks in this way, not because Caiaphas has spoken the truth of him without any revelation (Kingsbury, Structure, 74), but because Caiaphas’s understanding of “Messiah” and “Son of God” is fundamentally inadequate. Jesus is indeed the Messiah and so must answer affirmatively. But he is not quite the Messiah Caiaphas has in mind, so he must answer cautiously and with some explanation.

2. That explanation comes in allusions to two passages: Psalm 110:1 (see

3. Jesus uses “Son of Man” (see

4. The Greek phrase ap’ arti (lit., “from now”; NIV, “in the future”; see ) is difficult (see Casey, Son of Man, 189). Some have found it so difficult that they say v.64 must refer, not to the Parousia, but to the resurrection (e.g., Lars Hartman, “Scriptural Exegesis in the Gospel of St. Matthew and the Problem of Communication,” in L’Évangile selon Matthieu [ed. Didier], 145). But if “from now” or “from now on” ill suits the delay till the Parousia, it is equally unsuited to the delay until the resurrection and the ascension (see

The best explanation of v.64 is that Jesus is telling the members of the Sanhedrin (“you” is plural) that from then on they would not see him as he now stands before them but only in his capacity as undisputed King Messiah and sovereign Judge. “From now on” (i.e., “in the future” [NIV]) that is the way they will see him. Jesus’ reference is “to the state of authority which Jesus will enjoy continuously at the right hand of God” (France [NICNT]). Matthew does not include the word “only” or the like (e.g., “From now on you will only see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand ...”) because it would imply a possibility they might not see him at all, which is not true. The phrase “from now on” makes this a forceful warning that at least some Sanhedrin members doubtless remembered after the resurrection.

65–66 Rending garments (v.65) was prescribed for blasphemy (m. Sanh. 7:5) but can also express indignation or grief (cf. 2Ki 18:37; Jdt 14:19; 1 Macc 11:71; Ac 14:14). It appears that the definition of “blasphemy” varied over the years (see ; cf. Jn 5:18; 10:33; see the careful evaluation provided by Bock, Blasphemy and Exaltation). Whether the Sanhedrin thought Jesus was blaspheming because he claimed to be Messiah, because he put himself on the Mighty One’s right hand, or because God had not especially attested who Jesus was (a requirement in certain rabbinic traditions) is uncertain. The decision of the assembled members of the Sanhedrin appears to have been by acclamation. “Worthy” (enochos, v.66, GK 1944) is the same word used in 5:21. Jesus is “liable” to the death penalty, mandated for blasphemy (Lev 24:16).

67–68 Although Luke portrays the examination and condemnation only at the trial that takes place after dawn (parallel to Mt 27:1–2), even he has this outrage first (Lk 22:63–65), which, in agreement with Matthew and Mark, suggests that some decisions had already been made. Though “they” (v.67) might well mean the members of the Sanhedrin, it might also refer to those under their control, their immediate servants (cf. Lk 22:63–65). In any case, the messianic claims of the accused do not impress the Sanhedrin; and the indignities to which he is now subjected are probably meant to deride his false pretensions. The true Messiah would vanquish all foes and, according to some Jewish traditions, would be able to judge by smell without the need of sight (see Lane, Mark, 539–40 and references there; cf. Pss. Sol. 17:37ff.). But here is Jesus, spit on, punched, slapped (cf. Isa 50:6; the verb for “slapped” is also used in 5:39 and may mean “clubbed”), blindfolded (Mk 14:65; Matthew does not mention this detail), and taunted without displaying any power.

“Prophesy” (v.68) does not here imply foretelling the future but revealing hidden knowledge (cf. 11:13): Messiah should be able to tell who hit him, even when blindfolded. The easiest way to explain Matthew’s not mentioning blindfolding while including “Who hit you?” (not in Mark) is that Matthew and Mark have each kept one part of what Luke has kept intact (see Notes, v.68). In any case, Jesus remains silent, confirming their suspicions while fulfilling Isaiah 53:7.

NOTES

61 The peculiar expression διὰ τριῶν ἡμερῶν (dia triōn hēmerōn, “in three days”) uses the preposition in its primary sense of “between,” which then extends to the notion of interval (contra B. F. Meyer, Aims of Jesus; cf. Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 115; Moule, Idiom Book, 56).

63 Some MSS preserve only καί (kai, “and”), others καὶ ἀποκριθείς (kai apokritheis, “and he answered”), and a few ἀποκριθεὶς οὖν (apokritheis oun, “therefore he answered”). Although some have argued that the shortest reading came about because copyists felt “answered” was inappropriate immediately after a statement about Jesus’ silence, Metzger (Textual Commentary, 65) says the majority of the UBS Committee preferred the shortest reading on the external evidence. But it is difficult to imagine why “answered” would have been introduced into the shortest reading, and easy to understand how the second reading could have generated the other two. If original, “answered” must be understood as in 11:25.

68 Although this is a remarkably clear “minor agreement” of Matthew and Luke (22:64) against Mark (14:65), it is scarcely adequate to overturn Mark’s priority (see Introduction, ); but at very least it suggests that more independent accounts of the synoptic passion narratives were circulating (cf. Lk 1:1–4) than is commonly recognized. Some detect Luke’s dependence on Matthew here. The literary relationships are too complex to sort out with certainty; but in view of the apparent independence of Luke’s trial narrative as a whole, it seems wise to think that on this one point—the combination of the blindfolding and the question “Who hit you?”—Luke has preserved the historical connection, of which Matthew and Mark have each given one part.

OVERVIEW

The four gospel accounts, though brief (cf. Mk 14:66–72; Lk 22:54–62; Jn 18:15–18, 25–27; see on two cock crowings [Mark]), contain substantial differences, and a variety of solutions have been proposed. Matthew and Mark are in close agreement and list three denials: (1) before a servant girl, in the courtyard; (2) before another girl, but out by the gateway; (3) before bystanders, apparently in the court. Luke also lists three: (1) before a servant girl, apparently near the fire; (2) before another person, place not specified; (3) before yet another person, still in the courtyard (22:60–61). The three denials recorded by John are (1) before a servant girl, at the door; then, after a break in the narrative, (2) before some people—the verb is plural but may be a generalizing one—(3) before one of the high priest’s servants, a relative of Malchus.

Several things may be said.

1. Some attempts to harmonize the texts have resulted in Jesus’ predicting three denials at each of two different times, making six denials (cf. H. Lindsell, The Battle for the Bible [Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1976], 174–76). This is not only intrinsically unlikely but introduces major source-critical problems never addressed and handled.

2. It may help us to look at the location of the relevant pericopes in the four gospels. If our treatment of the trial sequence is correct (see ), Matthew and Mark do not record the examination before Annas but simply say that Peter followed Jesus into the courtyard. Then they place Peter’s three denials after the preliminary trial before the Sanhedrin. Luke records neither the examination before Annas nor the preliminary trial before the Sanhedrin and therefore places Peter’s three denials before recording the Sanhedrin trial at dawn. John has nothing about the Jewish trial (though it may be hinted at in 19:24) except Jesus’ examination before Annas. If Peter’s first denial took place about the time of that examination, it is understandable that John separates it from the other two, which he describes after Jesus has been led before Caiaphas.

3. The order of the first two denials may be reversed between John and the Synoptics (cf. the order of the temptations; see

4. Remaining differences are minor and are capable of many solutions. Problems arise from the brevity of the accounts. In a setting around a fire, two or three may speak up at once (see ); or, more probably, the plural in the second denial (in John’s order) is generalizing (as in Mt 2:20). The differences in the reports of the denial cannot adequately be accounted for on redactional grounds.

69Now Peter was sitting out in the courtyard, and a servant girl came to him. “You also were with Jesus of Galilee,” she said.

70But he denied it before them all. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

71Then he went out to the gateway, where another girl saw him and said to the people there, “This fellow was with Jesus of Nazareth.”

72He denied it again, with an oath: “I don’t know the man!”

73After a little while, those standing there went up to Peter and said, “Surely you are one of them, for your accent gives you away.”

74Then he began to call down curses on himself and he swore to them, “I don’t know the man!”

Immediately a rooster crowed. 75Then Peter remembered the word Jesus had spoken: “Before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.” And he went outside and wept bitterly.

COMMENTARY

69–70 The article “a” in “a servant girl” masks an idiomatic use of “one” (mia, v.69; see

71–72 Peter “went out” to the gateway, apparently retiring from the brighter light of the fire into the darkness of the forecourt. Again he denies the accusation, this time with an oath. “Oath” here (v.72) does not refer to “swearing” as we know it in profanity; rather, Peter invokes a solemn curse on himself if he is lying and professes his “truthfulness” by appealing to something sacred (see

73–75 A little more time elapses. Luke says “about an hour later” (22:59). In any age, accent in speaking varies with geography (e.g., Jdg 12:5–6), and Peter’s speech shows him to be a Galilean (cf. Hoehner, Herod Antipas, 61–64). That one of those present at Peter’s denial said that his accent proved him to be a disciple of Jesus shows how much Jesus’ ministry had been in Galilee and how relatively few of his disciples were from Judea. Having lied twice, Peter finds himself forced to lie again, this time with more oaths (v.74). Immediately the rooster crows, a bitter reminder (v.75) of Jesus’ words (v.34). He who thought he could stand has fallen terribly (cf. 1Co 10:12). Luke tells us that Jesus looked at Peter—perhaps through a window or as he was being led across the courtyard. If we cannot credit the legend that after this Peter never heard a cock crow without weeping, we may justifiably assume that Peter’s bitter tears led to his being “poorer in spirit” (5:3) the remainder of his days than he had ever been before.

From this point on, Matthew does not mention Peter again.

Dorothy Jean Weaver (Matthew’s Missionary Discourse: A Literary Critical Analysis [JSNTSup 38; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1990], 149) offers a more optimistic reading of this paragraph. At least Peter followed Jesus to the high priest’s house, she observes, and then he remembered Jesus’ prediction—and together these facts demonstrate that “Peter is still active as a disciple.” But oh, the betrayal and the tears!

OVERVIEW

Whether this formal decision was reached as a final stage of the first meeting or at a separate meeting held either in Caiaphas’s house or the temple precincts, we cannot say with certainty (see

1Early in the morning, all the chief priests and the elders of the people came to the decision to put Jesus to death. 2They bound him, led him away and handed him over to Pilate, the governor.

COMMENTARY

1 Symboulion elabon (“came to the decision”) is a Latinism for consilium capere (cf. Grammar, 109; BDF, para. 5 [3b]) and does not mean “hold a council” (Hill). On the other hand, Catchpole (Trial of Jesus, 191) seems to go too far in denying that it refers to the same event as Luke 22:66–71. The term can refer to a plot (as in 12:14; 22:15) and also to an agreed-on decision (28:12) as here. Hōste plus the infinitive here clearly refers to intention (cf. Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 352; Moule, Idiom Book, 140). Probably, too, the religious authorities decided just how to present their case to Pilate. If their own concern was Jesus’ “blasphemy” (26:65), they were nevertheless more likely to get Pilate to sentence him to death by stressing the royal side of messiahship rather than blasphemy, as to Pilate that would suggest treason (cf. Ac 17:5–9 for a similar reference to treason).

2 Jesus is led to Pontius Pilate, the “governor” (for the variant, see Metzger, Textual Commentary, 65). “Governor” is here a general title (cf. 10:18; 1Pe 2:14); Pilate was in fact appointed prefect or procurator by Tiberius Caesar in AD 26 (cf. IDB, 3:1229–31; ZPEB, 4:790–93). Prefects governed small, troubled areas. In judicial matters they possessed powers like those of the far more powerful proconsuls and imperial legates; in short, they held the power of life and death, apart from appeal to Caesar. Following the banishment of Archelaus in AD 6, Judea and Samaria were made into one Roman province governed by a prefect or procurator who normally lived at Caesarea but often came to Jerusalem during the feasts to be close to any potential trouble spots.

Extrabiblical sources portray Pilate as a cruel, imperious, and insensitive ruler who hated his Jewish subjects and took few pains to understand them (e.g., Josephus, Ant. 18.35 [2.2], 55–62 [3.12], 177–78 [6.5]; J.W. 2.169–77 [9.2–4]; Philo, Legat. 38; cf. Hoehner, Herod Antipas, 172–83; one hesitates to mention a novel in a commentary, but the novel by Paul L. Maier is extraordinarily faithful to first-century documents: “Pontius Pilate”: A Documentary Novel [1968; repr., Grand Rapids: Kregel, 1990]). He stole korban (see

Hoehner (Chronological Aspects, 105–14) responds to these problems with his crucifixion date of AD 33, after Pilate had set up the embossed shields in Jerusalem that Tiberius Caesar directly ordered removed, and after the execution of Pilate’s patron, the anti-Semite Sejanus (d. 19 Oct. AD 31), whose death endangered Pilate. At this time, the Sanhedrin would have found it easier to make direct and telling application to the emperor. In Hoehner’s view, Pilate appears weak in the gospels because he has just been severely rebuked by Caesar and fears that the Jews’ threat (Jn 19:12) could lead to another rebuke. By AD 33, Pilate’s administration had become so bad that in AD 36 he was recalled and finally banished.

Even without this chronology, far too wide a historical gap between the Pilate of the gospels and the Pilate of extrabiblical sources is being assumed.

1. Modern psychology helps us understand that the weak, insecure, selfish man elevated to a position of authority may become despotic and insensitive. Thus the evidence about Pilate may be complementary rather than disjunctive.

2. Pilate hated the Jews and especially the Jewish leaders. In the crisis forced on him by the Sanhedrin, though he may have seemed to be for Jesus, in reality he was probably against the Sanhedrin. His final decision betrayed no trace of sympathy for the Sanhedrin; rather, the Jews’ threat (Jn 19:12) could well have intimidated so corrupt a man at any point in his career.

3. Jesus was not the criminal or guerrilla fighter with whom Pilate was familiar. Jesus’ silence and poise, the wisdom of his brief answers, and the dreams of Pilate’s wife (v.19) may have prompted less drastic action than Pilate usually took.

4. Arguably, v.24 does not exculpate Pilate or reserve exclusive blame for the Jews (see ). Instead, as in vv.3–5, Matthew uses irony to say that no one connected with this crisis could escape personal responsibility.

5. Both the Sanhedrin trial and the trial before Pilate were necessary for capital punishment. Without the Sanhedrin, Pilate would never have taken action against Jesus unless he had become convinced Jesus was a dangerous Zealot leader; without Pilate, the Sanhedrin might whip up mob violence against Jesus but not a legally binding death sentence (cf. Jn 18:31).

OVERVIEW

This account is peculiar to Matthew, though Acts 1:16–19 also records Judas’s death. The differences between the two are considerable; many scholars hold that Acts 1:16–19 or something like it circulated as a bit of independent tradition Matthew adapted to develop his “fulfillment” theme further. But Benoit (Jesus and the Gospel, 189–207) finds greater historical accuracy in Matthew than in Acts. Many believe the only historically fixed points are Judas’s sudden death and the purchase of a piece of land called “the Field of Blood” (cf. Stendahl, School of St. Matthew, 120–27; Lindars, New Testament Apologetic, 116–22). But if Matthew developed a fulfillment theme by adding to or changing an earlier tradition, numerous difficulties, including even misnaming the prophet (v.9), show that he botched the job.

Hill’s suggestion that Matthew placed the story of Judas’s suicide here to show that Judas’s remorse depends on the Sanhedrin’s decision, not Pilate’s, is only a possibility. No matter where Matthew located the pericope, it would interrupt the narrative at this point; and other reasons may have led him to place it here. Senior (Passion Narrative, 346–52) suggests several reasons, including the observation that this placement has the effect of setting the treachery of Judas alongside Peter’s betrayal. This has the effect of comparing Judas with Peter and therefore of inviting the reader to ponder why one life turned out one way and the other another way (France [NICNT]). Perhaps Matthew’s prime interest in this pericope is to continue the fulfillment theme—that not only Jesus’ death but the major events surrounding it were prophesied in Scripture. Verse 4 again stresses Jesus’ innocence and sees the fulfillment of another of Jesus’ predictions (26:24), which sets up an apologetic tool (cf. “to this day,” v.8). In any case, neither Peter’s tears nor Judas’s remorse can remove their guilt.

3When Judas, who had betrayed him, saw that Jesus was condemned, he was seized with remorse and returned the thirty silver coins to the chief priests and the elders. 4“I have sinned,” he said, “for I have betrayed innocent blood.”

“What is that to us?” they replied. “That’s your responsibility.”

5So Judas threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged himself.

6The chief priests picked up the coins and said, “It is against the law to put this into the treasury, since it is blood money.” 7So they decided to use the money to buy the potter’s field as a burial place for foreigners. 8That is why it has been called the Field of Blood to this day. 9Then what was spoken by Jeremiah the prophet was fulfilled: “They took the thirty silver coins, the price set on him by the people of Israel, 10and they used them to buy the potter’s field, as the Lord commanded me.”

COMMENTARY

3 On “the chief priests and elders,” here governed by a single article suggesting a single entity (the Sanhedrin), see

4 Judas recognizes not only that he is guilty of betrayal but that Jesus, whom he has betrayed, is “innocent” (cf. Metzger, Textual Commentary, 66). Strangely, Davies and Allison think Judas’s regret signals genuine repentance; but see Keener for a response. The Jewish leaders’ callous response “What is that to us?” is both a Semitic and a classical idiom (cf. BDF, paras. 127 [3], 299 [3]). But their own words condemn them, for it should have been something to them. Judas has betrayed innocent blood; they have condemned innocent blood. “That’s your responsibility” (lit., “you will see [to it],” as in v.24), they say—a remark correct in content but wrong in implying that they are absolved.

5–8 Exactly where Judas threw the money is uncertain (see Notes). He then went out and hanged himself. Apēnxato (“hanged himself”) occurs in 2 Samuel 17:23 LXX. On this basis, some have made lengthy comparisons between Judas and Ahithophel—the one a treacherous friend of David, the other a treacherous friend of David’s greater Son (e.g., B. F. Meyer, Aims of Jesus; McNeile); but that Matthew intended such a comparison is doubtful (cf. Moo, Old Testament in the Gospel Passion Narratives, 189–91).

The chief priests, in accord with Deuteronomy 23:18, refuse to allow the blood money to supplement the funds of the korbanas (“treasury,” v.6; used only here in the NT—the place where a consecrated article is deposited and cognate with korban; see

With this probity in view, the chief priests decide (same construction as in v.1) to buy the potter’s field to meet a public need (v.7)—an accepted use of ill-gotten gains (cf. Str-B, 1:37; Jeremias, Jerusalem, 140). The potter’s field, used for the burial of foreigners, probably did not belong to “the potter” (surely there was more than one potter in Jerusalem) but was a well-known place, perhaps the place where potters had long obtained their clay. If depleted, it might have been offered for sale. There are no reliable early traditions of its location, though Matthew’s “to this day” shows it was well-known when he wrote. The best assumption is that it lay in the valley of Hinnom near the juncture with the Kidron.

There are three significant differences between these verses and Acts 1:18–19.

1. Matthew says that the chief priests bought the field; Acts, that Judas did. But if the priests bought it with Judas’s money, it may well have been regarded as his. More important, the language in Acts is finespun: “With the reward of unrighteousness, he acquired [ktaomai, not necessarily ‘bought’] a field” (literal translation). “The money bought him a burial-place; that was to him the sole financial outcome of the iniquitous transaction” (Broadus, 558).

2. Matthew says Judas hanged himself; Acts, that “he fell headlong, his body burst open and all his intestines spilled out.” This does not imply a disease, or that Judas tripped, as some have held. If Judas hanged himself, no Jew would want to defile himself during the Feast of Unleavened Bread by burying the corpse, and a hot sun might have brought on rapid decomposition until the body fell to the ground and burst open. Alternatively, one long tradition in the church claims Judas hanged himself from a tree branch that leaned over a ravine (of which there are many in the area); when the branch broke, whether before or after he died, Judas fell to a messy end. We are not so much beset by contradictory accounts as by paucity of information, making it difficult to decide which of several alternatives we should choose in working out the complementarity of the two accounts.

3. Matthew seems to ascribe the name “Field of Blood” to its being purchased with blood money; Acts, to the fact that Judas’s blood was shed there. But again the paucity of information faces us with several possibilities. All of the circumstances must have become public knowledge; and one reason, far from ruling out the other, actually complements it—provided that Judas died in the field purchased by the priests. Perhaps the priests bought the field (not necessarily the same day—Sunday would have been adequate), and Judas, informed as to what had been done with the blood money and driven to despair by futile remorse, decided to commit suicide in a field for the burial of aliens to Israel’s covenants.

Moreover, we must at least raise the question whether Acts 1:18–19 associates “Field of Blood” with Judas’s blood. “Everyone in Jerusalem heard about this” (Ac 1:19)—but does “this” refer to Judas’s body splitting open, without mention of blood, or to securing the field with blood money, also without explicit mention of blood? This is not an attempt at forced harmonization. But if it is bad historiography to squeeze two diverse accounts of one incident into a contrived union, it is equally bad historiography to mistake an instance of too little information for contradiction.

9–10 Four aspects of this complex quotation need discussion.

1. The ascription to Jeremiah. On the face of it, the quotation is in part a rough rendering of Zechariah 11:12–13 (though France [NICNT] is not wrong to call it “a mosaic of scriptural motifs”), with “I took” changed to “they took,” and the price interpreted as referring to the sum paid for Jesus. The only obvious allusions to Jeremiah are 18:2–6; 32:6–7—Jeremiah did visit a potter, and he did buy a field. But though some of the language of those passages may have influenced Matthew 27:9–10, it is difficult to imagine why Matthew mentioned Jeremiah instead of Zechariah, even though Jeremiah is important in this gospel (cf. 2:17; 16:14). Highly improbable “solutions” abound. Some have followed the minor textual variant “Zechariah” instead of “Jeremiah”; others have argued for an original text with no mention of the prophet’s name, attributing “Jeremiah” to a copyist’s error; many have assumed that Matthew made a minor error; others have appealed to a hypothetical writing of Jeremiah now lost; others have held that Jeremiah wrote Zechariah 9–11—though it is surely “a critical anachronism” (Morison) to see Matthew as anticipating modern source theories; and still others assume that Matthew is referring to the entire collection of prophetic books grouped under the name of the first book (though it is not at all certain that Jeremiah was first in Matthew’s day). France [NICNT] and Knowles (Jeremiah in Matthew’s Gospel) think Jeremiah is mentioned because this is a pastiche of OT allusions of which only the Jeremiah text actually mentions buying a field.

The most believable solution comes from Hengstenberg (Christology of the Old Testament, 2:1095ff.) and is developed by Gundry (Use of the Old Testament, 122–27), Senior (Passion Narrative, 359ff.), and especially by Moo (Old Testament in the Gospel Passion Narratives, 168–69). They note that no extant version of Zechariah 11 refers to a field. Matthew’s attributing the quotation to Jeremiah suggests we ought to look to that book. Jeremiah 19:1–13 (not Jer 18 or 32) is the obvious candidate. There Jeremiah is told to purchase a potter’s jar and take some elders and priests to the Valley of Ben Hinnom, where he is to warn of the destruction of Jerusalem for her sin, illustrated by smashing the jar. A further linguistic link is “blood of the innocent” (Jer 19:4). Thematic links include renaming a locality associated with potters (19:1) with a name (“Valley of Slaughter”) denoting violence (19:6). The place will henceforth be used as a burial ground (19:11), as a token of God’s judgment. In the last clause in Matthew’s quotation, “as the Lord commanded me” (27:10), Lindars (New Testament Apologetic, 121) sees an allusion to Exodus 9:12; Moo (Old Testament in the Gospel Passion Narratives, 196–97) has shown this is at best tenuous.

We have not yet tried to explain what Matthew understands by these OT texts or what he means by “fulfillment.” But it is fair to say that the quotation appears to refer to Jeremiah 19:1–13, along with phraseology drawn mostly from Zechariah 11:12–13 (MT in both cases), with the concluding clause a traditional “obedience formula” (cf. R. Pesch, “Eine alttestamentliche Ausführungsformel im Matthäus-Evangelium,” BZ 10 [1966]: 220–45) used to paraphrase the opening words of Zechariah 11:13: “And the LORD said to me.” Such fusing of sources under one “quotation” is not unknown elsewhere in Scripture (e.g., Mk 1:2–3; in Matthew, see 2:6; 11:10; 21:5; cf. 2Ch 36:21, verbally drawn from Lev 26:34–35, yet ascribed to Jeremiah [25:12; 29:10; cf. Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 125]; see

2. Prophecy and history. Many scholars hold that Matthew presents as history a number of “fulfillments” that did not happen. Rather he deduces that they must have happened because his chosen OT texts predict, as he understands them, that such events would take place. To this there are two objections. First, the more complex and composite a quotation (as here), the less likely is it that the “fulfillment” was invented. It is far easier to believe that certain historical events led Matthew to look for Scriptures relating to them. We may then ask how he has treated these Scriptures, but that is a separate problem. Second, when we examine Matthew’s quotation clause by clause, we can see impressive reasons for holding that the narrative does not grow out of the prophecy. To give but one instance, the “thirty silver coins” (v.3) are mentioned in Zechariah 11:13; but Mark speaks of betrayal money without mentioning Zechariah. Even if Mark does not specify the amount, the fact that Judas had been paid became well-known, independent of any Christian interpretation of Zechariah 11:12–13, and it is not unreasonable to suppose that the amount of money also became common knowledge.

3. Meaning. How did Matthew understand the OT texts he was quoting? The question is not easy, because the two dominant OT passages themselves can be variously explained. It appears that in Zechariah 11, the “buyers” (v.5) and the three shepherds (vv.5, 8, 17) represent Israel’s leaders, who are slaughtering the sheep. God commands Zechariah to shepherd the “flock marked for slaughter” (v.7), and he tries to clean up the leadership by sacking the false shepherds. But he discovers that not only is the leadership corrupt, but the flock detests him (v.8). Thus Zechariah comes to understand the Lord’s decision to have no more pity on the people of the land (v.6).

Zechariah decides to resign (11:9–10), exposing the flock to ravages. Because he has broken the contract, Zechariah cannot claim his pay (presumably from the “buyers”); but they pay him off with thirty pieces of silver (v.12). But now Yahweh tells Zechariah to throw this “handsome price at which they priced me” (probably ironical; see Notes) to the potter in the “house of the LORD,” i.e., the temple (v.13). Temple ritual required a constant supply of new vessels (cf. Lev 6:28); so a guild of potters worked somewhere in the temple precincts. Certainly Jeremiah could point to a potter as he preached and could purchase pottery somewhere near the temple (Jer 18:6; 19:1).

The purpose of Zechariah’s action is uncertain. Because a yôṣēr (lit., “shaper”) was both a potter and a metal worker, it may be that the money in Zechariah 11:12–13 was thrown to the yôṣēr so that it would be melted down and turned into a figurine, a little “god.” The people did not want the Lord’s shepherd, and so they will be saddled with a silver figurine (cf. Eze 16:17; Hos 2:8)—betrayal money, in effect, since it pays off the good shepherd, who would have kept the people true to the Lord’s covenant and who has been rejected by the people. The result can only be catastrophic judgment (Zec 11:14–17).

The parallel between Zechariah 11 and Matthew 26–27 is not exact. In Zechariah, the money is paid to the good shepherd; in Matthew, it is paid to Judas and returned to the Jewish leaders. In Zechariah, the money goes directly to the “potter” in the temple; in Matthew, after being thrown into the temple, it purchases “the potter’s field”—though at this point the influence of Jeremiah 19 has been introduced (see below). Nevertheless, the central parallel is stunning: in both instances, Yahweh’s shepherd is rejected by the people of Israel and valued at the price of a slave. And in both instances, the money is flung into the temple and ends up purchasing something that pollutes.

The reference to Jeremiah 19 (see point 1 above) provides equally telling parallels. The rulers have forsaken Yahweh and made Jerusalem a place of foreign gods (v.4); so the day is coming when this valley, where the prophecy is given and the potter’s jar smashed, will be called the Valley of Slaughter, symbolic of the ruin of Judah and Jerusalem (vv.6–7). Similarly in Matthew, the rejection of Jesus (Yahweh; see

4. Fulfillment. In the light of these relationships between the events surrounding Jesus’ death and the two key OT passages that make up Matthew’s quotation, what does the evangelist mean by saying that the prophecy “was fulfilled”? As in 2:17, the form of this introductory formula shrinks from making Judas’s horrible crime the immediate result of the Lord’s word, while nevertheless insisting that all has taken place in fulfillment of Scripture (cf. 1:22 with 2:17). Beyond that there is a tendency to apply standard Jewish categories to this use of the OT by Matthew. For instance, J. W. Doeve (Jewish Hermeneutics in the Synoptic Gospels and Acts [Assen: Van Gorcum, 1954], 185–86) characterizes 27:3–10 as “haggadah,” a creative story the starting point of which was the link between “innocent blood” in v.4 and in Jeremiah 26:15, which led on by associations of word and theme to Jeremiah 19 and 32 and Zechariah 11:13. But “innocent blood” is not an uncommon expression and is, therefore, an inadequate link between Matthew and Jeremiah. Lindars (New Testament Apologetic, 116–22) detects an elaborate midrashic development along somewhat different lines, and Stendahl (School of St. Matthew, 120–26, 196–98) finds a parallel in midrash pesher at Qumran. Though these are invaluable studies, several cautions are needed.

France (Jesus and the Old Testament, 206–7) draws attention to two differences between Matthew’s use of the OT in this passage and the pesharim at Qumran, which claimed that various OT texts were in reality referring to certain recent historical events. First, Matthew changes the wording far more than was done at Qumran; second, he respects the central intentions of the OT authors far more than at Qumran. These two points are linked. Matthew does not need to devise far-fetched explanations for each word and phrase, because in each case he has truly represented the central theme. The verbal differences he introduces in citing the OT are not an embarrassment to him, because he is not claiming that the OT text is a prophecy to be fulfilled by a simple one-on-one pattern. Pesher claims that what the OT text refers to is the specified historical event; there are close parallels to this claim elsewhere in the NT (e.g., Ac 2:16). But what we find in Matthew, including 27:9–10, is not identification of the text with an event but fulfillment of the text in an event, based on a broad typology governing how both Jesus and Matthew read the OT (see

Because of this typological model, Matthew introduces the commonly noticed changes: the one on whom a price is set is no longer the prophet (“me,” Zec 11:13) but Jesus (“him,” v.9). Even Matthew’s use of the concluding obedience formula—“as the Lord commanded me”—is best accounted for as a hint of the prophecy-fulfillment pattern. Here “me” can refer only to the prophet, yet Matthew keeps it, even though he changes other parts of the quotation to “him” because he believes that in obeying the Lord, the prophet—whether Jeremiah or Zechariah—was setting forth typological paradigms that truly did point to Jesus and the greatest rejection of all.

“Midrash” and “haggadah” are deceptive categories. We have maintained that Matthew did not make up the events he relates to illustrate Scripture but that they stand as independent historical realities he now relates to Scripture. Normally, late midrash (the only kind that is well defined; see Introduction, ) begins with the text as the point of departure, but in Matthew, the narrative is the point of departure. The element of “fulfillment” is not present in midrash in the way it is everywhere presupposed in the NT.

This is not a surreptitious plea to divorce Matthew from his Jewish roots. Doubtless it is correct to say that Matthew uses “midrashic techniques,” at least on the level of what Moo (Old Testament in the Gospel Passion Narratives) calls “appropriation techniques”—i.e., devices by which an OT text is applied to or appropriated by events contemporary with the evangelist. But such procedures are so universally used that the expression “midrashic techniques” conceals more than it reveals; it is a little like saying “interpretive techniques.” What must not be overlooked is that, unlike any other broad hermeneutical category used by the Jews, NT approaches to the OT are steeped in a salvation-historical perspective that finds in the sacred text entire patterns of prophetic anticipation (see

NOTES

5 The question of where Judas threw the money is beset by two problems.

1. O. Michel (TDNT, 4:882–85) and G. Schrenk (TDNT, 3:235) argue that there is no necessary difference between ναός (naos, “temple [sanctuary],” GK 3724) and ἱερόν (hieron, “temple [and its precincts],” GK 2639). If so, then the use of the former in this verse means no more than that Judas threw the money somewhere in the temple area. But a fairly strong case can be made for maintaining a distinction between the words in Matthew’s usage. Ναός, Naos, is used only of the temple proper, the sanctuary, in 23:16–17, 21; 27:51, and, metaphorically, in 26:61; 27:40, whereas ἱερόν, hieron, is used of the temple and its precincts in 4:5; 21:12, 14–15, 23; 24:1; 26:55 (cf. Garland, Intention of Matthew 23, 199 n. 117). It is possible that ἱερόν, hieron, is a trifle forced in 12:5; but since it is the encompassing term and not all the priests’ functions took place in the temple proper, the use still admits the traditional distinction between the terms. That leaves only 27:5; but in the narrow sense of ναός, naos, Judas would normally not have been allowed to enter. That may be just the point. Feeling damned already, he has nothing more to lose; in desperation he runs into the temple proper and flings down his money before he can be stopped. Thus he deeply incriminates the priests, a further example of 23:35.

2. It is very difficult to decide between the variant εἰς τὸν ναόν (eis ton naon, “into the temple”) and ἐν τῷ ναῷ (en tō naō, “in the temple”) (cf. Metzger, Textual Commentary, 66).

8 The time of the aorist passive ἐκλήθη (eklēthē, here “it has been called”) is established by the deixis of the ἕως (heōs, “until”) clause that follows (cf. E. de W. Burton, Syntax of the Moods and Tenses in New Testament Greek [Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1894], para. 18; Moule, Idiom Book, 14; somewhat similar, 28:15).

9 Although thirty shekels is the price of a slave (Ex 21:32), some argue (e.g., Joyce Baldwin, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi [TOTC; London: Tyndale, 1972], 183–86) that the amount is not paltry. The Code of Hammurabi distinguishes an ordinary citizen from a slave by saying that when either is gored to death by an ox, the payment in the former case is one-half mina and in the latter one-third mina, when a mina was probably worth about fifty shekels. Doubtless the biblical law puts more value on a human life, slave or not, but the fact remains that thirty shekels is a slave’s price. If Baldwin is correct, then “the handsome price” of Zechariah 11:13 is not ironic but must be an indication of how willing the buyers were to get rid of this shepherd. This seems unlikely since Zechariah is going to leave anyway. If, however, “the handsome price” is meant sardonically, this makes good sense, for even if the amount represents a substantial sum, it is still the price of a slave and representative of how God’s prophet is valued by an apostate people. The same kind of irony probably stands behind the paronomasia of v.9: τὴν τιμὴν τοῦ τετιμημένου ὃν ἐτιμήσαντο (tēn timēn tou tetimēmenou hon etimēsanto, lit., the price of the one whose price had been priced [“by the sons of Israel]”).

10 The third person plural ἔδωκαν (edōkan, “they gave”; NIV, “they used”) is to be preferred above the first person singular ἔδωκα (edōka, “I gave”) because the OT text and the “me” of the next clause would be strong inducement to change to the first person (cf. Senior, Passion Narrative, 356).

OVERVIEW

John gives the most details of the trial before Pilate; Luke adds the account of the intervening trial before Herod; Matthew follows Mark rather closely, but vv.19, 24–25 have no parallel (cf. Mk 15:2–15; Lk 23:2–25; Jn 18:28–19:16).

The setting is uncertain. It might be the Tower of Antonia, on the northwest corner of the temple area; more probably, it is Herod’s old palace on the west side of the city near the Jaffa gate (cf. Josephus, Ant. 20.110 [5.3]; J.W. 2.328 [15.5]; Philo, Legat. 38). The word “Praetorium” (v.27) can refer to a princely palace as readily as to a judicial or military seat. Probably Herod Antipas, tetrarch of Galilee, would also stay in his father’s palace whenever he came to Jerusalem, which could explain the ease with which Jesus’ brief interview with Herod (Lk 23:8–12) was arranged.

11Meanwhile Jesus stood before the governor, and the governor asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?”

“Yes, it is as you say,” Jesus replied.

12When he was accused by the chief priests and the elders, he gave no answer. 13Then Pilate asked him, “Don’t you hear the testimony they are bringing against you?” 14But Jesus made no reply, not even to a single charge—to the great amazement of the governor.

15Now it was the governor’s custom at the Feast to release a prisoner chosen by the crowd. 16At that time they had a notorious prisoner, called Barabbas. 17So when the crowd had gathered, Pilate asked them, “Which one do you want me to release to you: Barabbas, or Jesus who is called Christ?” 18For he knew it was out of envy that they had handed Jesus over to him.

19While Pilate was sitting on the judge’s seat, his wife sent him this message: “Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him.”

20But the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus executed.

21“Which of the two do you want me to release to you?” asked the governor.

“Barabbas,” they answered.

22“What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called Christ?” Pilate asked.

They all answered, “Crucify him!”

23“Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate.

But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!”

24When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!”

25All the people answered, “Let his blood be on us and on our children!”

26Then he released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.

COMMENTARY

11 For more about Pilate, see . Matthew’s report, in which Pilate asks, “Are you the king of the Jews?” presupposes the background of Luke 23:2 and John 18:28–33. The Sanhedrin’s concern with Jesus’ “blasphemy” becomes his claim to kingship, a charge of treason with overtones of Zealot sedition, capped with a claim that Jesus refuses to pay taxes (see

Verse 11 is important theologically as well as historically. It stands behind the inscription on the cross (v.37) and prepares the way for Christianity, which rests on the conviction that Jesus of Nazareth, who rose from the dead, is indeed the promised Messiah, the King of the Jews—basic themes in Matthew even in the prologue. In other words, the vindicated Lord is the crucified Messiah (cf. N. A. Dahl, The Crucified Messiah [Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1974], 10–36).

12–14 Persistent charges by “the chief priests and the elders” evoke only silence from Jesus. If Jesus had said nothing at all, Pilate would be bound to condemn him (Sherwin-White, Roman Society, 25–26), since in the Roman system the defense depended heavily on the defendant’s response. But Jesus has spoken (v.11). Now, surrounded by unbelief and conscious that the hour has come, he makes no reply (v.14). Thus he continues to fulfill Isaiah 53:7 (see ). Pilate’s “great amazement” (v.14) appears to be mingled with respect for Jesus and antipathy for the Jewish leaders, and so he takes tentative steps to release the prisoner. Meanwhile Jesus’ silence testifies mutely to his willingness (cf. 26:53) to suffer as “a ransom for many” (20:28).

15 In Roman law, an imperial magistrate could acquit a prisoner not yet condemned or pardon one already condemned; but the gospel accounts make this a regular custom, apparently associated with Judea alone (on the grammar, see Moule, Idiom Book, 59). Blinzler (Trial of Jesus, 218–21), followed by Lane (Mark, 552–53), has shown that m. Pesaḥim 8:6 (“they may slaughter [namely, a Passover lamb] for one ... whom they have promised to bring out of prison”) presupposes some kind of regular paschal amnesty; the tractate in question is universally recognized as recording very old traditions.

16 “Barabbas” seems a strange name. “Bar Abba” means “son of Abba,” i.e., “son of the father.” But there is evidence that the name or nickname was not unknown in rabbinic families (cf. Str-B, 1:1031). Perhaps Barabbas was the son of a famous rabbi (on such a use of “father,” see

It may be that the two who were crucified with Jesus were co-rebels with Barabbas, for 27:38 calls them lēstai (“rebels,” “guerrillas,” or “insurrectionists” is better than the NIV’s “robbers”), and their crucifixion indicates they were judged guilty of more than robbery. The fact that three crosses were prepared strongly suggests that Pilate had already ordered that preparations be made for the execution of the three rebels. If so, Jesus the Messiah actually took the place of the rebel [Jesus] Barabbas because the people preferred the political rebel and nationalist hero to the Son of God.

17–18 The “crowd” was not a crowd of Jesus’ accusers but of those trying to influence the selection of the prisoner who would receive the paschal amnesty (cf. Mk 15:8). It is possible, though far from certain, that the crowd, knowing little as yet of the arrest and trial of Jesus Christ, was voicing its support for “Jesus” (i.e., Jesus Barabbas—if the variant is supported), and Pilate mistook their pleas as support for Jesus Christ (cf. Lane, Mark, 554 n. 29).

What is certain is that Pilate sized up the real motivation of the Jewish leaders (v.18). They had no special loyalty to Rome; so if they were accusing Jesus of being a traitor to Rome, he must have been disturbing them for other reasons, and they were simply using Pilate to eliminate Jesus’ challenge to them. Pilate, with his network of spies and informers, would be aware of how much popularity Jesus Christ enjoyed among the people at large. He could hardly have been unaware of the upsurge of acclaim the previous Sunday (21:1–16). He thought to administer a reversal to Sanhedrin policy by using the paschal amnesty to encourage the crowd to free Jesus; therefore he offered them a choice: Barabbas or Jesus “who is called Christ.” The last clause may be contemptuous.

19 In AD 21, it had been proposed in the Roman Senate that no provincial magistrate could be accompanied by his wife (cf. Tacitus, Ann. 3.33–35). The proposal was defeated, so Pilate’s wife was on hand to speak of her dream. If Roman troops were involved in Jesus’ arrest (see ), Pilate and perhaps his wife would have been informed. Her dream calls to mind the five dreams of Matthew 1–2; but it is quite unlike them and may not have been supernatural. God gave the earlier dreams for guidance to be obeyed, but this dream combines suffering with intimations of gloom. In any event, the interruption of Pilate’s wife while he was sitting “on the judge’s seat” (cf. Josephus, J.W. 11.301 [14.8]) further stresses Jesus’ innocence (the NIV rightly renders dikaios by “innocent,” GK 1465) and gives the chief priests and elders a few moments to influence the crowd. On the idiom “Don’t have anything to do with,” see Turner, Insights, 43–47.

20–23 Matthew and Mark both insist that the leaders (“chief priests,” Mark; “chief priests and elders,” Matthew) helped persuade the crowd (v.20). But it is wrong to infer that either Matthew or Mark is whitewashing the crowd (contra Hill et al.), for then “all the people” (v.25) would make no sense. Historically, the description of the crowd’s response is comprehensible enough. They have come to demand Barabbas’s release (see ). When they are confronted with the choice of Barabbas or Jesus (v.21), both of whom were widely popular, their momentary faltering is resolved by their leaders. If the crowd must choose between Pilate’s choice and the Sanhedrin’s choice, especially if the Sanhedrin members are circulating stories of Jesus’ “blasphemy,” then there can be little doubt on which side of the issue they will come down. In Judea it was common to confront the Roman authorities with as noisy and large a delegation as possible (cf. Josephus, Ant. 18.269–72 [8.3]). And now mob mentality begins to take over.

Tactically Pilate has blundered. Trying to save face, he asks more questions. The first (v.22) offers the hope of milder sentence (high treason could be punished by crucifixion, facing wild animals in the arena, or banishment); the second (v.23) attests Jesus’ innocence (on the NIV’s sensitive rendering of gar [lit., “for”], see BDF, para. 423 [1]). But mob psychology prevails (cf. Ac 19:34). The demand for crucifixion also assured that the executed person would be declared accursed (see

The people indicate their preference for a murderous, nationalistic guerrilla leader over their Messiah, who exhorted the people to love their enemies and said he would die as a ransom for many. As Luke points out, it would not be long before Peter would remind the people of Israel at large (not just the leaders), “You handed [Jesus] over to be killed, and you disowned him before Pilate, though he had decided to let him go. You disowned the Holy and Righteous One and asked that a murderer be released to you” (Ac 3:13–14).

24 It is customary to interpret this verse as Matthew’s fictitious attempt to show Pilate’s positive response to his wife’s advice (v.19) and place guilt on the Jews (cf. v.25). But this is not the most natural interpretation.

1. To the best of our knowledge, this hand washing was not a Roman custom. After living several years among the Jews he detested, Pilate picked up one of their own customs (Dt 21:6; cf. Ps 26:6) and contemptuously used it against them. On the other hand, Gundry goes too far in suggesting that Matthew has “Christianized” Pilate. It is one thing to say Pilate thought Jesus was innocent; it is another to say Matthew pictures Pilate as a Christian (see Helen K. Bond, Pontius Pilate in History and Interpretation [SNTSMS 100; Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1998], 124–37).

2. There is little reason to think the hand washing incompatible with the proceedings, because, whatever his motives, Pilate tried repeatedly to release Jesus. He sent him to Herod (Luke), suggested that the paschal amnesty be applied to him, proposed a compromise with a scourging (Luke), tried to turn the case back to Jewish authorities (John), remonstrated before pronouncing sentence (John), and here washes his hands. Matthew gives us only two of these steps, and so it is difficult to see why he should be charged with exculpating the Romans simply because one of his two is the only one not mentioned by the other evangelists.

3. If Matthew were interested in exculpating Pilate, would he have included the soldiers’ savage mockery of Jesus (vv.27–31)?

4. Pilate’s claim to be “innocent of this man’s blood” is no stronger than Luke 23:14. Why, then, should this verse in Matthew be thought to color the first gospel’s passion narrative uniquely?

5. We cannot be certain that Pilate actually thought his action would excuse him. It may have reflected his contempt for the Jews or have been a taunt. And even if he thought he had exculpated himself, he should have known better. Plumptre quotes Ovid’s lines (Fasti 2:45): “Too easy souls, who dream the crystal flood / Can wash away the fearful guilt of blood.”

6. But regardless of what Pilate thought, Matthew does not think the hand washing exonerated Pilate. We have already seen how Matthew shows that all connected with Jesus’ death are guilty (see , ). Now Matthew insists that Pilate’s action was not prompted by desire for justice but by political and moral cowardice and fear of a mob. The Romans expected their magistrates to maintain peace. An uproar, especially one tinged with complaint to Caesar (John), would be enough to intimidate a corrupt governor whose past has caught up with him (see ). So when Pilate says, “It is your responsibility” (27:24), Matthew intends his readers to remember the same words spoken by the chief priests and elders to Judas (v.4).

7. Too much of the debate about v.24 implies that the text merely reflects church-synagogue relations at the end of the first century, with little connection with the trial of Jesus. This has led to so many historical disjunctions as to be no longer credible. Is it not remarkable that the fourth gospel, which in recent literature is also regularly interpreted as a clash between church and synagogue, should contain much more about the Roman trial than the Synoptics?

25 To Pilate’s words, “all the people” answer, “Let his blood be on us and on our children!” The idiom is familiar (2Sa 1:16; 3:28; Ac 18:6; 20:26). In the narrative, this is a swift retort to Pilate’s taunt and mob pressure for him to pronounce the verdict. But it clearly is more than that. How much more? Many say that by “all the people” Matthew is saying that the Jews as a whole reject Jesus (Frankemölle, Jahwebund und Kirche Christi, 204–11) and, therefore, have incurred collective guilt. Thus v.25 becomes a prophecy of the destruction of Jerusalem and the nation; and a new people of God, the church, take over. There is some truth in this view, but it needs qualification.

1. Matthew probably means “all the people” to refer to the entire crowd that cries, “Let his blood be on us,” rather than limiting these words to the chief priests and elders (see ).

2. Even if there is symbolism (as there appears to be) whereby the crowd’s response reflects the response of the nation as a whole (cf. 23:37–39), Matthew certainly knows that all the first disciples were Jews. Thus the gospel’s denunciations of the Jews are not more severe than those of many OT prophets, and in both instances it is understood that a faithful remnant remains. So what Matthew actually says cannot be judged as anti-Semitic. It is only when Matthew’s account is read as a description, not of Jesus’ trial, but of later church-synagogue relations, that it begins to bear anti-Semitic nuances fostered, not by the trial itself, but by the expansion of the remnant to include Gentile believers. Thus the anachronism of the church-synagogue conflict, consciously adopted by more liberal critics and unconsciously presupposed by more conservative ones, injects into the passion narratives more “anti-Semitic” bias than was actually present in the events they describe. If v.25 joins Matthew 25 in anticipating the judgment of AD 70, it does so in a way akin to Jeremiah’s prophecies of the exile and not with the often cynical detachment of Gentile believers from the Fathers on.

26 Among the Jews, scourging was limited to forty lashes (Dt 25:3; cf. 2Co 11:24), but the Romans were restricted by nothing but their strength and whim. The whip was the dreaded flagellum, made by plaiting pieces of bone or lead into leather thongs. The victim was stripped and tied to a post. Severe flogging not only reduced the flesh to bloody pulp but could open up the body until the bones were visible and the entrails exposed (cf. TDNT, 4:510–12; Josephus, J.W. 2.612 [21.5]; 6.304 [5.3]). Flogging as an independent punishment not infrequently ended in death. It was also used to weaken the prisoner before crucifixion. Jesus’ flogging took place before the verdict (cf. Lk 23:16, 22; Jn 19:1–5; cf. Blinzler, Trial of Jesus, 222ff.) and so was not repeated after the verdict. Repetition would doubtless have killed him. Pilate, after further entreaty (Jn 19:1–16), “handed him over to be crucified”; the words recall the Suffering Servant (Isa 53:6, 12 LXX).

NOTES

16–17 Only witnesses of the Caesarean text (e.g., Θ f¹ 700* syr^s) preserve the name “Jesus” before “Barabbas”; but Origen knows the reading, as do several marginal glosses (in one uncial, S, and in about twenty minuscules), and it is probably presupposed in the ancestors of B 1010. The external evidence is not strong enough to be at all certain; on the whole, it is more likely that scribes deleted the name out of reverence for Jesus than added it in order to set a startling if grotesque choice before the Jews. The problem is compounded in v.17, where, in an uncial script, the abbreviated form of the accusative of “Jesus” could be easily lost by haplography (YMININ). See Metzger, Textual Commentary, 67–68. UBS⁴ and NA²⁷ include “Jesus” in brackets.

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