Showing posts with label Crucifixion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crucifixion. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Crucified Christ: Oxymoron? (I Cor. 1:23)

What did Paul say the preaching of the cross was to Greeks? Foolishness (I Corinthians 1:23)

Paul receives word that the church he founded in Corinth is experiencing internal division (I Corinthians 1:10-12). Corinth was a cosmopolitan city replete with cultural diversity, a fact which may have been a contributing factor to the conflict within the church. After urging unity (I Corinthians 1:12-17), the apostle reminds the congregation of their compelling commonality (I Corinthians 1:18-2:5). The church faces enough opposition from the outside without generating more from within.

Paul generalizes the protests of the outsiders: Jews seek signs while Greeks pursue wisdom (I Corinthians 1:22). In contrast, Paul summarizes his own preaching:

But we preach Christ crucified, to Jews a stumbling block and to Gentiles foolishness, (I Corinthians 1:23 NASB)
The apostle reduces his message to two words: “Christ crucified” (I Corinthians 1:23, 2:2). Typically, the cross and resurrection are uttered in the same breath but here Paul does not mitigate the scandal of the cross by remembering how it was eventually overcome (I Corinthians 1:23). Unappealing though it may be, “Christ crucified” is Paul’s bumper sticker theology.

Paul uses the plural in conjunction with his preaching: “we preach” (I Corinthians 1:23). While this pronoun contrasts nicely with the opposing groups he mentions, it is difficult to determine who it includes.

Jerome Murphy-O’Connor (b. 1935) acknowledges:

The most difficult instances of the first person plural to classify are those in I Corinthians 1:18-31 and I Corinthians 2:6-16. The commentators who take up the challenge are few and far between. C.K. Barrett [1917-2011] ignores the problem in I Corinthians 2:6-16 and without explanation interprets I Corinthians 1:23 as ‘we Christians preach.’ Gordon D. Fee [b. 1934], on the other hand, remarks apropos of this latter text, ‘how natural it is for Paul to slip into this usage; note also that it tends to happen in such places as this, where Paul would be concerned to imply that such preaching is not unique to himself.’ The contradiction betrays the speculative character of both hypotheses. Moreover, the nature of Paul’s evocation of all believers through the use of ‘we’...is markedly different to what appears here, and there is reason to think that Paul was in fact unique in his consistent stress on the brutal modality of Christ’s death. (Murphy-O’Connor, Keys to First Corinthians: Revisiting the Major Issues, 5)
The only person that can be definitively encompassed in“we” is the apostle himself.

Paul insists that he (and whoever else is echoing his preaching) is merely passing along the message of “Christ crucified”. Leon Morris (1914-2006) comments:

The verb preach (kēryssō) is that appropriate to the action of a herald. The message came from God, not the preacher. In this sense it is a peculiarly Christian term. It is used little, if at all, in this way in the classics, in the Septuagint, or in current religious systems like the mystery religions (see Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, iii, pp. 697-700). (Morris, 1 Corinthians (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries), 45-46)
Paul earlier confesses: “For Christ did not send me to baptize, but to preach the gospel, not in cleverness of speech, so that the cross of Christ would not be made void” (I Corinthians 1:17 NASB). N.T. Wright (b. 1948) characterizes:
When he [Paul] announced it, when he stood up in the synagogue or the market-place or the debating-chamber, he didn’t use clever words to trick people into thinking they believed it because they enjoyed his speaking style. Now, writing this letter, looking back on his initial announcement, he can for a moment spin some good sentences together, to tease them into seeing the point. But he didn’t do that when making the original proclamation. The cross had to do its own work. Simply telling the story released a power of quite a different sort from any power that human speech could have: God’s power, beside which all human power looks weak; God’s wisdom beside which all human learning looks like folly. (Wright, Paul for Everyone: 1 Corinthians, 13)
Paul’s unrefined message is “Christ crucified” (I Corinthians 1:23). Significantly, the apostle utilizes the perfect tense when discussing the crucifixion. Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) identifies:
Paul writes Christon estaurōmenon, using the perfect passive participle of stauroō, “fasten to a cross” (BDAG, 941), a verb that was used by Greek historians and others who mention crucifixion (Polybius [200-118 BCE], Histories 1.86.4; Diodorus Siculus [90-30 BCE], Bibliotheca Historica 16.61.2; Epictetus [55-135], Discourses; Josephus [37-100], Antiquities 2.5.4 §77, 17.10.10 §295; cf. Septuaguint Esther 1:9, 8:12r. (Fitzmyer, First Corinthians (Anchor Bible), 159)
Roy E. Ciampa (b. 1958) and Brian S. Rosner (b. 1959) disclose:
The perfect participle ἐσταυριομένον is employed to describe Christ as crucified, which is the content of Paul’s message. The perfect is used to describe Christ in his present (even resurrected) state as one who has undergone crucifixion (cf. John 20:25-27). Paul stresses the crucified nature of his subject. It is Christ crucified that Paul preaches. “Christ” is anarthrous in the Greek and can be translated “a Christ crucified” (Revised Version margin) or, better, “a crucified Christ” (New Jerusalem Bible). In I Corinthians 15:11-12 Paul declares Christ raised from the dead to be the object of his proclamation. Obviously, “Christ” is what Paul preaches, but here in I Corinthians 1 he emphasizes the central element of his message most opposed to “the wisdom of the world.” (Ciampa and Rosner, The First Letter to the Corinthians (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 99)
The perfect tense accentuates the notion that crucifixion is something that an individual’s reputation cannot overcome: Once crucified, always crucified. As evidenced by Christianity’s early critics, the cross is a stain that cannot be removed. Jesus forever remains the crucified one.

Robert E. Picirilli (b. 1932) explains:

The verb (Greek perfect tense) suggests both the past act of crucifixion and the fixed results of that act that are always present: Christ was crucified, and the achievement stands, always available for application. “It is finished.” [John 19:30] That is the way Christ is proclaimed in the gospel, and that is the heart of the gospel. (Picirilli, 1, 2 Corinthians (Randall House Bible Commnetary, 23)
Bruce N. Fisk (b. 1959) applies:
Followers of Jesus can never move beyond the cross. Unlike some children’s story that holds our affection for a brief time, the cross is neither preliminary nor elementary. On the contrary, the startling claim of the gospel is that the death of Jesus stands at the center of human history. Perhaps this is why the cross proved to be such an obstacle for both the Corinthian elite and for Paul’s Jewish kin as well...Stubbornly Paul insists on summing up his message with two simple words: Christ crucified (I Corinthians 1:23, 2:2). (Fisk, First Corinthians (Interpretation Bible Studies), 10-11)
In this time of division, Paul offers a refresher course in the basics. Christ crucified is not an insignificant fragment of Paul’s ideology; it represents the substance of his theology. It is the gospel in a nutshell.

Alan F. Johnson (b. 1933) affirms:

This is the heart of Paul’s message and his whole understanding of God’s matchless wisdom. All else follows from this central core; without it, all else is a rabbit trail that leads nowhere, a powerless gospel. (Johnson, 1 Corinthians (IVP New Testament Commentary), 58)
Richard A. Horsley (b. 1939) determines:
Of Paul’s fifteen references to the cross or Christ crucified, six come in this passage [I Corinthians 1:18-25], with another six grouped in Galatians. It would appear that Paul mentions the cross or Christ crucified when he feels some threat to the implications of his gospel for the current life of the communities he has founded: these are found only in Galatians (Galatians 3:1, 5:11, 24, 6:12, 14) against the threat he feels from “Judaizers”; briefly in Philippians 3:18; and here in I Corinthians (I Corinthians 1:13, 17, 18, 23, 2:2, 8; with II Corinthians 13:4 probably derivative). Paul focuses on the cross in this context because he finds the sophia of some of the Corinthians to be a serious threat to the community. (Horsley, 1 Corinthians (Abingdon New Testament Commentaries), 48)
Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) pinpoints:
In this self-contained unit [I Corinthians 1:17-2:5] Paul tells what he preached at Corinth, how he did it, and why he preached as he did. At the center of the chiasmus is what he preached: Christ crucified (I Corinthians 1:23a). Judging from the context, the cross here does not refer to the death of Jesus as a sacrifice for sins (as in Romans 3:25-26), as a victory over the evil powers (as in Colossians 2:15), or as a revelation of God’s love (as in Romans 5:8), but rather to Jesus’ death to sin (as in Romans 6:10; he died rather than sin), in which believers are called to participate (e.g., Romans 6:3, 6-7, 10-11; Galatians 2:10). (Talbert, Reading Corinthians: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 17)
Jesus is the Christ and, for Paul, this status is directly linked to the mode of his death. Christopher Tuckett (b. 1948) observes:
One striking group of texts in Paul relates Jesus’ identity as the Christ to his death on the cross. Thus Paul talks very regularly of ‘Christ crucified’ (I Corinthians 1:23, 2:2; Galatians 3:1) or the ‘cross of Christ’ (I Corinthians 1:17; Philippians 3:18). He never talks about the ‘crucified Lord’ or ‘the Lord who was crucified’. The exact link between crucifixion and messiahship is not certain, and Paul certainly never spells it out. (Tuckett, Christology and the New Testament: Jesus and His Earliest Followers, 47)
Bart D. Ehrman (b. 1955) contends:
For Paul, Jesus actually was the messiah, not despite the fact that he was crucified but precisely because he was crucified. He bore the curse of the Law (since he was hanged on a tree [Deuteronomy 21:23]); but since he was God’s chosen, he bore this curse not for any wrong he had done but for the wrong done by others. It is through his crucifixion, therefore, that one can escape from the curse of the Law and be set free from the power of sin that alienates people from God. (Ehrman, God’s Problem: How the Bible Fails to Answer Our Most Important Question–Why We Suffer, 150)
It is precisely the identifier that Paul emphasizes that creates a marketing nightmare as the cross presents intrinsic impediments to both religious and secular audiences (I Corinthians 1:23). Later interpreters note that the cross passes the criterion of embarrassment; that is to say that this is a detail that must be historically true as no one would have possibly benefitted from its fabrication.

The cross alienated both Jews and Gentiles (I Corinthians 1:22-23). To the Jews it proved a “stumbling block” (ASV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NRSV, RSV). Gordon D. Fee (b. 1934) notes:

The Greek word translated “stumbling block” is σκάνδαλον, from which we derive our word “scandal.” “Scandal” is in fact closer to the sense than “stumbling block,” since the word does not so much mean something that one is tripped up by as something that offends to the point of arousing opposition. (Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 75)
Anthony C. Thiselton (b. 1937) examines:
The word σκάνδαλον...has been variously rendered as scandal (C.K. Barrett [1917-2011], Gordon D. Fee [b. 1934]), stumbling block (AV/KJV, NRSV, NIV, Raymond F. Collins [b. 1935], James Moffatt [1870-1944]), or an obstacle they cannot get over (New Jerusalem Bible). All of these can be defended. The Greek word occurs only rarely outside the Septuagint and New Testament, but occurs six times in Matthew and Luke, six times in the Pauline epistles (once each in I Peter, I John and Revelation), i.e. 15 times in the New Testament. Edwin Hatch [1835-1889]-Henry A. Redpath [1848-1908] list 21 occurrences in the Septuagint, where it translates four Hebrew words of which the two main nouns are שמןק (moqesh) and ןלשמכ (mikshol). These may relate to catching in a snare, but the meaning trap, or more strictly the tripstick of a trap, is not well attested in nonbiblical Greek, and offers only one of several possible meanings in most of the New Testament examples. In Galatians 5:11 Paul speaks of τό σκάνδαλον του σταυρου, where a double affront is caused by the curse entailed for one who is hanged on the cross and by the nullification of the role of self-help. Peter’s suggestion in Matthew that Jesus should avoid the cross is itself a σκάνδαλον to Jesus (Matthew 16:23). C.K. Barrett [1917-2011] and Gordon D. Fee [b. 1934] insist it includes scandal; thus Today’s English Version translates what is offensive. In several contexts the word denotes what may provoke someone to a negative or even rebellious reaction. No single English word seems to cover its various nuances, and much of the emphasis depends on the context. When we bear in mind Stephen M. Pogoloff [b. 1949]’s convincing picture of what it would be to proclaim a crucified criminal of modest status to those who sought honour, esteem, and success, to translate an affront seems to capture the mood and nuance most closely. (Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (New International Greek Testament Commentary), 171)
Roy E. Ciampa (b. 1958) and Brian S. Rosner (b. 1959) reinforce:
Although the word appears only here in I Corinthians, Paul uses it in a similar context in Romans 9:33 and Romans 11:11-12. In both cases an Old Testament citation identifies Christ as a stumbling block for Israel (Isaiah 8:14 and Psalm 69:23-24 respectively). Isaiah 8:14 in particular gives the flavor of the term with various synonyms: “He will become a stone of offense and a stumbling block to both houses of Israel, a trap and a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem.” Together these texts suggest that a stumbling block is more serious than simply an insulting affront; it also leads to disastrous consequences. (Ciampa and Rosner, The First Letter to the Corinthians (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 100)
Paul’s Jewish audience stumbled over what he deemed bedrock as Jesus did not restore the Davidic throne in the way most Jews anticipated that the Messiah would. Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971) describes:
The offence lay primarily in the crucified rather than in the triumphant Messiah; and in the assertion that in the drama of his crucifixion, we have a revelation of the divine mercy in which God takes the sins of the world upon himself. This affirmation is freely confessed by Paul as being “to the Jews a stumbling-block” (I Corinthians 1:23). It does not follow with logical necessity from anything predicted in Messianic hopes, though the Christian community (rightly I believe) saw it as a fulfillment of the quasi-Messianic conception in the Second Isaiah of the “suffering servant.” [Isaiah 53:1-12] (Niebuhr, The Essential Reinhold Niebuhr: Selected Essays and Addresses, 192)
David E. Garland (b. 1947) augments:
From a Jewish standpoint, a crucified Messiah was an oxymoron, which becomes a major stumbling block (σκάνδαλον, skandalon) because Scripture brands anyone hanged on a tree as accursed of God (Deuteronomy 21:23). In Justin Martyr [100-165]’s Dialogue with Trypho 31-32, Rabbi Trypho remains unpersuaded by Justin’s attempt to prove from Daniel 7 that Jesus was the Messiah and responds, “Sir, these and suchlike passages of scripture compel us to await One who is great and glorious, and takes the everlasting Kingdom from the Ancient of Days as Son of Man. But this your so-called Christ is without honour and glory, so that He has even fallen into the uttermost curse that is in the Law of God, for he was crucified.” For those who think that God must be mighty and strong, not weak, the cross is “an affront to God’s majesty” (Troels Engberg-Pedersen [b. 1948] 1987: 562). It is insulting “to link God with weakness” (Peter Lampe [b. 1954] 1990: 121). The cross also dashes cherished hopes of temporal triumph and world supremacy. (Garland, 1 Corinthians (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 69-70)
There was no room in most Jews’ theology for a crucified Christ. Not only did the cross present challenges, the average Jew would have seen no benefits.

Amy-Jill Levine (b. 1956) speculates:

Most Jews would not have accepted Paul’s claims any more than they would have accepted a messiah without a messianic age. They already had the belief in the resurrection of the dead, and they believed in a just God who forgave sin. Thus, this new Galilean savior would be for them a redundancy—there was nothing broken or missing in their system that his death and resurrection could fix or fill. Further, most would have found the entire notion of a crucified messiah who brings about by his death salvation from death and sin ridiculous. As Paul puts it in I Corinthians 1:23, “We proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block...to Jews and foolishness...to Gentiles.” (Levine, The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus, 67)
The issue is not just the existence of the theory of a crucified Messiah or even its popularity. James D.G. Dunn (b. 1939) diagnoses:
The offense for most Jews was not simply the message of a crucified Messiah, the fact that some other Jews (and Gentiles) believed and preached that Jesus, crucified and all, was Messiah. It was the prospect of accepting that claim for themselves which was the stumbling block. They stumbled not over the beliefs of others, but at the challenge to share that belief for themselves. (Dunn, The Christ & the Spirit, Volume 1: Christology, 218)
Paul understood the Jewish objections to Jesus all too well as he once espoused them. Wilfrid J. Harrington (b. 1927) conjectures:
When Paul declared: “We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling-block to Jews and folly to Gentiles” (I Corinthians 1:23), he spoke from wry experience. He thought not only of the missionary challenge but, surely, recalled his personal conflict. (Harrington, Seeking Spiritual Growth Through the Bible, 68)
Seyoon Kim (b. 1946) concurs:
James D.G. Dunn [b. 1939] grants that from I Corinthians 1:23 it can fairly be inferred that the pre-conversion Paul was offended by the Christian proclamation of the “crucified Messiah,” and from Galatians 3:13 that on the basis of Deuteronomy 21:23 he persecuted the Christians who proclaimed the crucified Jesus as God’s Messiah. So Dunn recognizes that Paul was converted to “Christ crucified,” which “was part of the base-rock faith of the first Christians.” (Kim, Paul and the New Perspective : Second Thoughts on the Origin of Paul’s Gospel, 13-14)
“Feel Felt Found” is a proven selling technique. The salesperson identifies with an objecting customer and pitches newfound data, professing that “I understand why you feel... Others have felt... What they found was...” Paul could have genuinely incorporated this strategy.

Alan F. Segal (1945-2011) informs:

Paul...still understands the Jewish position, but he can no longer accept it at face value. Rather, he transforms it into a new understanding of messiahship. He says in I Corinthians 1:23, “but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to gentiles.” Paul knows in ways that the later church cannot appreciate how difficult it was for a Jew to accept a crucified messiah and how difficult it was for a gentile to accept a crucified god or hero. (Segal, Paul the Convert: The Apostolate and Apostasy of Saul the Pharisee, 123)
Paul fully realizes how difficult it is to affirm the cross and the natural consequences that come with worshiping a crucified person. Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) relays:
Paul speaks of Jesus’ demise as “even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8), and how he would not boast “save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world” (Galatians 6:14). The consequence is that the believing Christian knows that he or she is “co-crucified with Christ: it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me; and the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20). For the Christian “always carries in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies” (II Corinthians 4:10). (Fitzmyer, First Corinthians (Anchor Bible), 159)
The cross was no more palatable to the Jews’ counterparts, the “Gentiles” (ASV, CEV, ESV, HCSB, NASB, NIV, NLT, NRSV, RSV) or “Greeks” (KJV, MSG, NKJV). The Greek text of I Corinthians 1:23 actually uses the broader “Gentiles” (eth’-nos) while the preceding verse speaks of “Greeks”.

H.H. Drake Williams, III (b. 1965) discusses:

Although Greeks is used in I Corinthians 1:22 and Gentiles in I Corinthians 1:23, both of these terms should be understood as equal in I Corinthians 1:22-24. Oftentimes Paul uses Greeks and Gentiles interchangeably (Romans 1:16, 2:9ff, 3:9, 10:12; I Corinthians 10:32, 12:13; Galatians 3:28). The present use of the term Greeks is likely due to the predominant Greek population of Corinth. Ernest Best [1917-2004], “The Power and the Wisdom of God,” 27. What is most important is that both of these groups are understood together as comprehensive of the wisdom of the world. Wolfgang Schrage [b. 1928], Der erste Brief an die Korinther, 182-83. (Williams, The Wisdom of the Wise: The Presence and Function of Scripture Within 1 Cor. 1:18-3:23, 98)
Raymond F. Collins (b. 1935) specifies:
Implicitly Paul identifies the Gentiles (ethnesin; hellēsi, “Hellenes,” in some manuscripts) with the Hellenes of I Corinthians 1:22, 24. For those Gentiles who did not receive the gospel of Christ preached by Paul the content of his message is folly. Had Paul allowed cultivated Gentiles to be captivated by his use of oratorical skills he would have deprived the very cross of Christ of its power (I Corinthians 1:17). In fact, the object of Paul’s epistolary wrath is not so much Gentiles as such but the Hellenes, whom he now identifies as Gentiles, whose pursuit of wisdom causes the cross of Christ to be deprived of its power. (Collins, First Corinthians (Sacra Pagina), 107-08)
These Gentiles characterize the cross as “foolishness” (ASV, CEV, HCSB, KJV, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NRSV), “folly” (ESV, RSV), “absurd” (MSG) or “nonsense” (NLT). The Greek is moría, from which English derives the term “moron.”

Gordon D. Fee (b. 1934) prescribes:

To the “Gentiles” the message of “Christ crucified” was a “pernicious superstition” and “utter foolishness.” As Martin Hengel [1926-2009] notes, Paul’s word for folly here “does not denote either a purely intellectual defect nor a lack of transcendental wisdom. Something more is involved,” something more closely akin to “madness.” It is hard for those in the christianized West, where the cross for almost nineteen centuries has been the primary symbol of faith, to appreciate how utterly mad the message of a God who got himself crucified by his enemies must have seemed to the first-century Greek or Roman. But it is precisely the depth of this scandal and folly that we must appreciate if we are to understand both why the Corinthians were moving away from it toward wisdom and why it was well over a century before the cross appears among Christians as a symbol of their faith.” (Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 76)
L.L. Welborn (b. 1953) speculates that Paul drew upon imagery from a popular mime:
It now seems likely that Paul’s astonishing and paradoxical equation of the cross and foolishness was mediated by the mime. The most popular mime of Paul’s day was the Laureolus of Catullus...References by historians, poets, and commentators make it possible to reconstruct the plot. Laureolus is a slave who runs away from his master and becomes the leader of a band of robbers. Some record of his crimes must have been presented; there was a scene in which he was captured, and a final scene in which he was crucified. The crucifixion was enacted with a considerable degree of stage realism. Josephus [37-100] reports that ‘a great quantity of artificial blood flowed down from the one crucified.’ Suetonius [70-130] records a performance on the day of Caligula [12-41]’s assassination, in which the chief actor fell and vomited blood. Suetonius notes that the performance was immediately followed by a humorous afterpiece in which ‘several mimic fools (plures secunfarum) so vied with one another in giving evidence of their proficiency at dying that the stage swam in blood.’ According to Martial, a condemned criminal was forced to take the part of Laureolus at a performance during the reign of Titus [39-81], and actually died on the cross. Paul may have this mime in mind when he describes the message of the crucified Christ as ‘foolishness’. (Welborn, Paul, the Fool of Christ: A Study of 1 Corinthians 1-4 in the Comic-Philosophic Tradition, 99-100)
Wisdom loving Greeks sought a logical rationale and the cross simply did not add up. Human wisdom falls short in understanding the cross; its genius is something the human mind cannot fully grasp.

Verlyn D. Verbrugge (b. 1942) relates:

Who in their right mind would say that the way to get peace with God is to build a relationship with someone who suffered the type of death reserved only for the worst criminals in the Roman Empire? Such an attitude is not unlike suggesting to people today to count as their hero someone condemned to the electric chair or to death by lethal injection. (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b. 1947], Romans–Galatians (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary, 268)
Crucifixion simply could not be on the Messiah’s resume. It was comparable to a felony background weeding out applicants for government jobs. A crucified person need not apply to be the Christ. For many, “crucified Christ” is nothing less than an oxymoron.

Gordon D. Fee (b. 1934) relays:

To the seekers of signs and wisdom Paul now presents the ultimate divine contradiction: “But we preach Christ crucified.” Rather than giving them the signs and wisdom they demand—and God has plenty of both—they get weakness and folly. Indeed, “Christ crucified” is a contradiction in terms, of the same category as “fried ice.” One may have a Messiah, or one may have a crucifixion; but one may not have both—at least not from the perspective of merely human understanding. Messiah meant power, splendor, triumph; crucifixion meant weakness, humiliation, defeat. Little wonder that both Jew and Greek were scandalized by the Christian message. During Roman times crucifixion was the ultimate penalty, reserved mainly for rebellious subjects of various kinds (insurrectionists and the like) and slaves. Jesus died as a state criminal, a scandal to Jew, Greek, and Christian alike. (Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 75)
On the surface, the Christ dying is itself illogical, much less suffering a reprehensible death. David E. Garland (b. 1947) understands:
Gentiles think it folly for God to let his Son die to save others. Paul’s preaching not only proclaims that this is what God did but also demands that the listener become joined to Christ in his humiliation and death. What honor or status can accrue from binding oneself to a crucified person? Humans, however, are the fools in thinking that they can “domesticate the sovereign God” and capture God in the images of creatures (Romans 1:23, 25; Peter Lampe [b. 1954] 1990: 123-24). (Garland, 1 Corinthians (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 70)
Dissatisfaction with the cross persisted for centuries. It resurfaces in Pliny the Younger (61-113)’s letter to Trajan (53-117) and the writings of the satirist Lucian (125-180). Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) documents:
It is...folly to Gentiles, because such wisdom seekers regard the kerygma as the opposite of the goal of their search...In I Corinthians 1:18-20, “folly” was contrasted with the “wisdom” of all unbelievers; now it is restricted, as it stands in contrast to the wisdom of the “Gentiles.” So the satirical Sophist, Lucian of Samosata (A.D. 120-180?), mocked Christians: ton de aneskolopismenon ekeinon sophistēn auton proskynōsin kai kata tous ekeinou nomous biōsin, “they worship that crucified sophist himself and live according to his laws” (De morte Peregrini 13). What lies behind such an attitude is the recognition that Jesus died the death that was known in the contemporary Roman world as servile supplicium, “the slave’s punishment” (Valerius Maximus, Factorum 7.12; cf. Martin Hengel [1926-2009], Crucifixion, 51-63). (Fitzmyer, First Corinthians (Anchor Bible), 159-60)
Further disapproval came from the fact that an eschatological savior did not fit the Greek worldview in the first place. George T. Montague (b. 1929) explains:
The Greek understanding of time and history were not eschatological: it did not have a conception of a goal toward which history was moving. “Time,” Aristotle [384-322 BCE] said, “is a kind of circle.” Thus a religious founder should be one who more than any other would lead one to contemplate the order and harmony of the universe and lead humanity to a more harmonious subjection to its inevitability. This was at least the view of the Stoics, who were Paul’s contemporaries and with whom he argued in Athens (Acts 17:18). In short, such a founder should be a philosopher. A founder who stands the world’s values on its head by going to death on a cross—the fate of the criminal dregs of humanity—would indeed have no chance of winning the Greek, even less by claiming that the cross was followed by the resurrection of the body. As for the Jewish critic, the apparent failure of one who claimed to be the Messiah was proof that he was not. That is why it takes a special grace, a divine call, to read in the cross more than stupidity and weakness. (Montague, First Corinthians (Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture), 47)
Margaret E. Thrall (1928-2010) adds:
Cultured pagans, with the example of Socrates [469-399 BCE] in mind, might well admire Jesus as a wise and good teacher unjustly put to death. But the idea that his death was itself part of a divine plan for the welfare of mankind would be sheer stupidity to such people as these. (Thrall, First and Second Letters of Paul to the Corinthians (Cambridge Bible Commentary), 21)
The familiarity of Christianity has dulled awareness to the foolishness of a crucified Christ. Jerome Murphy-O’Connor (b. 1935) reminds:
As religions go, Christianity is the most unreasonable. It proclaims that a crucified criminal is the saviour of the world. Today’s Christians cannot appreciate the incredulous revulsion which was the normal reaction to the proclamation of the gospel in the first century. Both Jews and Greeks agreed that the idea of a crucified saviour was a scandal and a folly (I Corinthians 1:23). (O’Connor, 1 Corinthians: A Guide for Reflection and Prayer (Daily Bible Commentary), 22)
Ian S. Markham (b. 1962) concurs:
From time to time, Christians should stand back and acknowledge how odd our faith looks. For Christians claim that the most important divine action in history is the humiliating death of a poor Jew at the hands of an occupying power. The central Christian symbol is the ancient equivalent of the hangman’s noose or the electric chair. Instead of a dramatic demonstration of God’s power, we have weakness. It is odd. And it is to us now as it was to the first Christians. (David L. Bartlett [b. 1941] and Barbara Brown Taylor [b. 1951], Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 2, Lent through Eastertide, 86)
Patrick J. Ryan (b.1939) accents:
Paul, firing his first two salvos against his critics in the Corinthian Christian community, noted that neither Jews demanding signs of God’s power to deliver them from bondage nor Greeks looking for philosophical insight or wisdom could make sense of a crucified messiah: “a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles” (I Corinthians 1:23). At the center of our Christian churches we have, not a bowl of flowers nor an empty space, but a grisly instrument of capital punishment. We venerate the image of a crucified man, the temple of his body destroyed and raised in three days. Whether that image shows Jesus as the majestic Messiah enthroned on the cross or as the Suffering Servant twisted in his final agony, it demonstrates a central mystery of our faith. (Ryan, When I Survey the Wondrous Cross: Scriptural Reflections for Lent, 64-65)
Like many contemporary people, both Jews and Gentiles were looking for God on their own terms. A crucified Christ cut across the expectations of both groups as the cross precluded its victim from being a conquering king or an incontestable philosopher. In short, God did not present the Savior the people desired.

Richard E. Oster, Jr. (b. 1947) recognizes:

Quite often God does not offer to individuals what they want, especially as incentives to faith. It is especially clear in the death of God’s Anointed, that the desire to root faith in the soil of human understanding of how and when God should act has to be abandoned. Accordingly, Paul reaffirms that his message does not takes its cue from the religious passion of his contemporaries for signs and wisdom; rather he offers a crucified Messiah. The Pauline gospel is a stumbling block...to the unbelieving Jews for the very reason that it fails, in their preconceived theology, to reflect an understanding of God and his kingdom that has any attraction to them. The Gentiles likewise regard the message of Paul as foolishness because it is so antithetical to the supposedly enlightened wisdom they have developed and taught for centuries. (Oster, 1 Corinthians (College Press NIV Commentary), 65)
In responding to the crucifixion, Jews and Gentiles are in the strange position of being in the same boat. The Message paraphrases, “Jews treat this like an anti-miracle—and Greeks pass it off as absurd.” The politics of the cross makes for strange bedfellows.

Raymond F. Collins (b. 1935) connects:

Because of their own cultural traditions with respect to knowledge Jews and Gentiles are closed to the gospel of the crucified Christ. With respect to salvation and their appropriation of the salvific word of the cross both Jews and Gentiles ultimately share a common lot. The equality with respect to salvation of both Jew and Gentile is a major theme of Paul’s “last will and testament,” the letter to the Romans (Romans 1:16-3:20, 9-11). (Collins, First Corinthians (Sacra Pagina), 107)
As the cross alienates Jews and Gentiles alike, Paul misses his two primary target audiences: both the religious and the secular are offended by the cross. Cornelia Cyss Crocker (b. 1955) grants:
Paul himself states that his message was either regarded as a scandal or as utter folly (I Corinthians 1:23), depending on people’s background and perspective. One can imagine many in his audience shaking their heads and walking away in disbelief because someone who bore the messianic title could not possibly have been crucified or, rather, someone who had been crucified could not possibly bear the messianic title any longer. To claim such a thing would be a complete contradiction in terms, a true oxymoron. At the very least, professing Jesus as Christ and setting that in conjunction with death by crucifixion would point at a paradoxical, highly tensive, and profoundly aporetic reality. (Crocker, Reading 1 Corinthians in the Twenty-First Century, 56-57)
Frederick Buechner (b. 1926) concedes:
The message that a convicted felon was the bearer of God’s forgiving and transforming love was hard enough for anybody to swallow and for some especially so. For hellenized sophisticates-the Greeks, as Paul puts it - it could only seem absurd. What uglier, more supremely inappropriate symbol of, say, Plato [427-347 BCE]’s Beautiful and Good could there be than a crucified Jew? And for the devout Jew, what more scandalous image of the Davidic king-messiah, before whose majesty all the nations were at last to come to heel?...Paul’s God didn’t look much like what they were after, and Paul was the first to admit it. Who stood by Jesus when the going got rough, after all? (Buechner, “Paul Sends His Love”, Secrets in the Dark, 198-99)
Roy E. Ciampa (b. 1958) and Brian S. Rosner (b. 1959) decipher:
To those hoping for something impressive and irrefutable, Paul preaches the altogether odd and unexpected: Christ crucified. This is akin to proclaiming as good news that the victor has been vanquished, the market has collapsed, or the holiday has been cancelled. It is only our familiarity that dulls the strangeness of Paul’s message for us. In the most general sense, the “Christ” is the king destined to rule. To announce his ignominious demise is to brand him an utter failure and would hardly seem to constitute a “gospel.” Archibald Robertson [1863-1934] and Alfred Plummer [1841-1926] explain the understandable disappointment for both Jews and Greeks at such preaching: “The Jews demanded a victorious Christ, heralded by signs, who would restore the glories of the kingdom of David and Solomon...Christ was not preached as a conqueror to please the one, nor as a philosopher to please the other...Both had to learn the divine character of humility.” As Philippians 2:1-11 indicates, this aspect of the work of Christ has ethical implications. If Christ “humbled himself...even to death on a cross,” then being “like-minded” and “doing nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit” follow as imperatives for his people. These qualities are the very things the Corinthians are lacking. (Ciampa and Rosner, The First Letter to the Corinthians (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 99-100)
The problematic nature of the cross was virtually universal. Martin E. Marty (b. 1928) summarizes:
In one of the earliest documents of the faith a letter-writer named Paul agreed that Jesus Christ was a “stumbling block [=scandal] to the Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles” (I Corinthians 1:23), which meant that he was a problem to just about everyone. (Marty, The Christian World: A Global History, xiii)
In light of these obvious difficulties, belief is nothing short of a miracle. And yet Christianity with its counter intuitive message of a crucified Christ has endured for centuries. Part of its success is due to the fact that, in spite of its repulsive nature, people like Paul have preached the doctrine of the crucified Christ unapologetically, never diminishing or disguising its power.

Mark D. Roberts (b. 1957) admits:

The essence of Paul’s “full disclosure of truth” was precisely what his Corinthian opponents sought to hide: the unsettling truth of Christ’s death and the call to imitate his sacrifice. Paul understood that the message of the Cross was not an attractive one...He explained, “So when we preach that Christ was crucified, the Jews are offended, and the Greeks say it’s all nonsense (I Corinthians 1:23). Yet Paul told the whole truth about Christ, even at the risk of having his message rejected as foolishness. (Roberts, Dare to Be True: Living in the Freedom of Complete Honesty, 35)
Jerome Murphy-O’Connor (b. 1935) defends:
No orator, even the most skillful, could devise arguments to make a crucified Savior either intelligible or palatable. Such arguments have to be rooted in commonly accepted values. Both Jews and Gentiles, however, agreed that the idea was “scandal” and “folly” (I Corinthians 1:23). This consensus condemned any attempt to present a crucified Christ in a favorable light. Thus, there was an inherent contradiction between rhetoric and the Pauline gospel. The former manifested “the wisdom of the world,” whereas the latter was the product of the “wisdom of God.” The gospel could be made rational only by suppressing its most distinctive feature, the crucifixion of Jesus. The insidious danger at Corinth was that those who wished to give the gospel an attractive rhetorical presentation did not have to deny the crucifixion formally. All they had to do was to pass over it in silence. It sufficed to stress “the Lord of Glory” (I Corinthians 2:8) and to make no mention of crucifixion. (Elizabeth A. Dreyer [b. 1945], “Crucifixion in the Pauline Letters”, The Cross in Christian Tradition: From Paul to Bonaventure [1221-1274], 39)
Thankfully, Paul resists the temptation to give his audience what they want. Richard B. Hays (b. 1948) reflects:
Paul’s language throughout this section [I Corinthians 1:18-25] revels in the paradoxical twists of God’s grace. This is not, however, just a Pauline rhetorical tour de force. The fundamental theological point is that if the cross itself is God’s saving event, all human standards of evaluation are overturned. This outlandish message confounds Jews and Greeks alike, who quite understandably seek evidence of a more credible sort, either empirical demonstrations of power (“signs”) or rationally persuasive argumentation (“wisdom”). But the apostle offers neither. Instead, “we proclaim Christ crucified” (I Corinthians 1:23). (Hayes, First Corinthians (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching & Preaching), 30)
This message is still relevant as most people today would prefer a conquering Messiah who fixes all of their problems to a crucified Christ. As such, addressing the cross is crucial for the contemporary church.

The Christian belief in a crucified Christ has always been nothing less than radical. Craig G. Bartholomew (b. 1961) and Michael W. Goheen (b. 1955) observe:

The New Testament is unique in ancient literature in interpreting the crucifixion in a positive way, as the greatest of God’s actions in history. Paul proclaims that “the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (I Corinthians 1:18). But he and the other New Testament writers are entirely aware that their view of this event attracts scorn. To the Romans, the cross is utter foolishness, crucifixion is merely the worst of the punishments routinely meted out to Rome’s enemies. They are humiliated, defeated, tortured beyond human endurance, exposed in their weakness—and then they die. Beyond that, the cross is a random act of cruelty...Yet the early church makes the bold and fantastic claim that the cross is the central act of God in all of human history! (Bartholomew and Goheen, Drama of Scripture, The: Finding Our Place in the Biblical Story, 163)
Daniel L. Migliore (b. 1935) professes:
The power of the triune God is omnipotent love. Christ crucified is the power of God unto salvation (I Corinthians 1:23-24). The love of God made known supremely in the cross of Christ has all the power necessary to accomplish the divine purpose of creating and redeeming the world and bringing it to its appointed goal. (Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding: An Introduction to Christian Theology, Second Edition, 86)
The cross confronts human preconceptions of wisdom and strength (I Corinthians 1:25). It serves as a reminder that God’s ways are not our ways and things may not be quite as they seem.

Anthony C. Thiselton (b. 1937) relays:

To...both Jews and Greeks...whom God has called, the cross of Christ constitutes precisely the mode of action which conveys God’s power and God’s wisdom. It does not rest on human calculations about signs of the times, nor upon manipulative devices which entice belief, nor does it rest on self-defeating strategies to master life techniques by human wisdom. God’s manifestation of power and wisdom operates on a different basis, namely, the way of love which accepts the constraints imposed by the human condition or plight and the prior divine act of promise, and becomes effective and operative (has power) in God’s own way, for it corresponds with God’s own nature as revealed in Christ and in the cross. Any version of the gospel which substitutes a message of personal success for the cross is a manipulative counterfeit. Eberhard Jüngel [b. 1934] writes, “God defined himself as love on the cross of Jesus. If the cross, as the world’s turning point, is the foundation and measure of metaphorical language about God, then such language itself has the function of bringing about a turning around, or change of direction. God cannot be spoken of as if everything remained as it was.”...In this sense, God’s power and God’s wisdom do indeed become actualized in, through, and even as Christ: Christ, God’s power and God’s wisdom. But because the cross is a turning point and criterion which may reverse assumptions and values, we should be cautious about applying without very careful qualifications the everyday meanings, or even theological meanings, of power and wisdom as they occur in other texts. (Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (New International Greek Testament Commentary), 172)
Ben Witherington III (b. 1951) agrees:
In contrast to both Jews and Gentiles, Paul preaches the paradoxical notion of a crucified God. This apparently powerless and foolish deity allowed himself to be killed by Romans — a scandal to Jews and foolishness to pagans. Yet this crucified messiah is both the wisdom and power of God for salvation for believers, so that salvation would not be the result of human effort or wisdom. Thus the foolishness of God outstrips human wisdom and the weakness of God exceeds human strength. (Witherington, Conflict and Community in Corinth: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary on 1 and 2 Corinthians, 113)
The cross also has spiritual ramifications. K.K. Yeo (b. 1960) sees:
Paul wants to bring the Corinthian Christians to a higher spiritual awareness via the “crucified Christ” (I Corinthians 1:23, 2:2)—a “politics of metaphor” (Yung Suk Kim 2008). Robert E. Allinson [b. 1942] describes this phenomenon similarly for Zhuangzi as the “myth of deconstruction and reconstruction” for the sake of self-transformation (Allinson 2003; 1989). For example, in the first chapter of the Zhuangzi, there is “the myth of a fish that is deconstructed as a fish and reconstructed as a bird” (Burton Watson [b. 1925] 1968: 4). Paul preached only “Christ crucified’ to the Corinthian Christians, so that they would deconstruct the surrounding cultures’ ideals of power (Romans), religion (Jews), and wisdom/philosophy (Greeks). Through such self-deconstruction, they could then reconstruct holistic life found only in the “weakness” of God, “miracle-less” faith, and “foolish” understanding (I Corinthians 1-2). (Yung Suk Kim, “Pauline Theological Counseling of Love in the Language of the Zhuangzi”, 1 and 2 Corinthians (Texts@Contexts), 122)
The cross also has far reaching political implications. A crucified Christ represents the wisdom of another kingdom, one not found in any earthly political system (I Corinthians 1:25). Attempting to advance oneself with humans utilizes decidedly different methodologies than doing the same with God. In light of this, many interpreters have viewed the cross as subversive.

Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) writes:

In effect, both Jew and Greek become adversaries of the crucified Christ. “The cross always remains scandal and foolishness for Jew and Gentile, inasmuch as it exposes man’s illusion that he can transcend himself and effect his own salvation, that can all by himself maintain his own strength, his own wisdom, how own piety, and his own self-praise even toward God” (Ernst Käsemann [1906-1998], “Saving Significance,” 40). There is more involved in this theology of Christ crucified, because Paul is going to use it to transcend all individualism and interpersonal disputes in order to make it the basis on which the Christians of Corinth should be building their unity, agreement, and community life itself (see Raymond Pickett [b. 1955], The Cross in Corinth 37-68). Mark T. Finney (“Christ Crucified”) goes so far as to maintain that Paul is seeking to undermine the imperial cult (emperor worship) among the Corinthians, at least among those who became Christians. (Fitzmyer, First Corinthians (Anchor Bible), 159-60)
P. Travis Kroeker (b. 1957) philosophizes:
Paul’s messianism will not accommodate conventional discourses of human mastery – which is to say, all conventional political discourses. In contrast to the Weberian “secularization thesis” (influenced by Friedrich Nietzsche [1844-1900]) that interprets Paul’s apocalyptic messianism as one of indifference to worldly conditions, recent continental thinkers such as Alain Badiou [b. 1937], Stanislas Breton [1912-2005], Jacob Taubes [1923-1987], and Giorgio Agamben [b. 1942] interpret it as radically political, a challenge to the politics of conventional human and especially national sovereignty. (Stephen Westerholm [b. 1949], The Blackwell Companion to Paul, 441-42)
Yung Suk Kim assents:
Paul utterly identifies with Christ crucified (I Corinthians 1:23, 2:2), which is God’s power and wisdom that deconstructs the Corinthian power and wisdom based on a certain knowledge or spiritual gifts. Christ’s body imagined through Christ crucified gives hope to the weak and marginalized in the community, even in the midst of their liminal, marginal experience—just as Christ necessarily did. Christ crucified is a symbol and the power of God reaching out to the downtrodden, the dregs of the world. In short, accounting for the crucified body as a dimension of the “body of Christ” provides us with a vision of the “body of Christ” in radical association with the broken bodies in the world. (Kim, Christ’s Body in Corinth: The Politics of a Metaphor, 31)
The cross bleeds over into all aspects of the Christian life. It is necessary; Christianity cannot be Christianity without the cross. Hence this scandalous foolishness becomes the central message. The crucified Christ becomes the answer to all seekers and questioners, whether they seek signs or wisdom.

If you had to reduce your belief system to two words, what would they be? What is your favorite oxymoron? Is Paul incorporating synthetic parallelism; are scandal and foolish to be viewed on the same plane? What are contemporary impediments to the gospel? What other times has God acted foolishly by human standards? Is thinking logically and/or having an education a deterrent to accepting the gospel (I Corinthians 1:26)? What are the modern equivalents to the objections posed by these New Testament Jews and Gentiles (I Corinthians 1:23)? In what ways did Jesus meet the expectations of the Greeks and Jews? In any way did he exceed them? When has God fulfilled your needs but not given you what you wanted or expected? For you, what is the least attractive tenet of Christianity? Does the resurrection cause you to stumble?

Paul’s original readers would have been well aware and in full agreement that outsiders struggled with the cross. It was likely a matter with which they were often confronted. Paul, however, is not writing to lecture about outsiders. He is addressing insiders, specifically errant Christians. In building up his opposition, Paul unites his core. Sociologist Georg Simmel (1858-1918) argued that nothing unites a group more than a common enemy (Simmel, “The Sociology of Conflict: I” American Journal of Sociology 9 (1903): 490-525). But in returning to the cross, Paul is doing far more than unifying his congregation against bolstered competition.

Throughout the epistle, Paul confronts incongruities which have fragmented the church in Corinth (I Corinthians 1:11-13). The apostle’s consistent focus on the cross undercuts elitist perspectives and promotes unity. Paul uses the reminder of the crucifixion to ground the Corinthian congregation.

Though he is prone to do so, the apostle has not gone off on a tangent. Kenneth L. Chafin (1926-2001) refocuses:

There are times when Paul seems to interrupt himself to explore a different subject before coming back to his original line of thought. A casual reading of I Corinthians 1:18-25 might lead us to think that Paul had picked up on his own mentioning of the gospel and is now turning aside from his discussion of divisions to pursue that subject. Rather, he is launching his criticisms by insisting that the party spirit in the church is caused by false wisdom, human pride, and by loyalty to human leaders. It is not the gospel he has preached that has brought division. The word of the Cross that he had preached was the source of true wisdom and unity. Consequently, the divisions within the church must have come from that worldly wisdom which cannot accept the preaching of the Cross. (Chafin, 1, 2 Corinthians (Mastering the New Testament, 37-38)

Pheme Perkins (b. 1945) teaches:

The gospel of Christ crucified shapes Paul’s response to many of the practical problems addressed in the letter (Dieter Zeller [b. 1939] 2010, 64-66). The apostle has shaped his life in response to the call received from God. His responsibility for the churches reflects that relationship with God. (Perkins, First Corinthians (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 44)
Alexandra R. Brown (b. 1955) writes of this power of the cross in her book The Cross and Human Transformation: Paul’s Apocalyptic Word in 1 Corinthians. James L. Jaquette (b. 1954) reviews:
In our time the cross is often more a source of controversy than a sign of peace. While aware of differing points of view, Alexandra Brown shows that Paul’s proclamation of the cross was an inclusive and empowering word of liberation, peace, and reconciliation. (Brown, The Cross and Human Transformation: Paul’s Apocalyptic Word in 1 Corinthians, back cover)
There is great power in the cross. It serves as a constant reminder that it is not about us. Not the least of its power is its bent to unite believers at its foot. The cross is a meeting place for foolish people. And fools ought stick together.

Should more emphasis be placed on the scandal of the cross? If this aspect was stressed would Christians be more unified? Have you ever attended a divided church? What issues are worth splitting a church? Is Christ bigger than our differences?

“God allows himself to be edged out of the world and onto the cross. God is weak and powerless in the world, and that is exactly the way, the only way, in which he can be with us and help us.” - Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-1945), Reflections On The Bible: Human Word And Word Of God, p. 96

Friday, April 6, 2012

The Gardener Of Eden (John 20:15)

Who did Mary Magdalene think Jesus was when she first saw him after His resurrection? The gardener (John 20:15)

Though she does not play a prominent role through most of the gospel narrative, Mary Magdalene takes center stage after the crucifixion. She is the person who discovers the empty tomb (John 20:1). After relaying the (potentially) good news to the disciples (John 20:2), Mary remains outside the tomb weeping (John 20:11). Presumably, she interprets the absence of Jesus’ body as an insult added to injury.

After conversing with two angels who were in the tomb, Mary encounters the risen Jesus himself (John 20:12-18). She does not recognize him initially, presuming him to be the gardener of the garden tomb (John 20:15).

Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing Him to be the gardener, she said to Him, “Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away.” (John 20:15 NASB)
Recognition comes not through sight (Matthew 5:8; Ephesians 1:18) as it is only after Jesus says her name that Mary recognizes him (John 20:16). As Jesus had professed earlier in the gospel, sheep know their shepherd’s voice when they hear it (John 10:4).

Francis J. Moloney (b. 1940) reads the incident with an apologetic bent:

This is perhaps the earliest literary evidence of a Jewish response to the Christian story of the resurrection. While early Christians explained the tradition of an empty tomb by claiming that God had raised Jesus from the dead, early Christian documents report a Jewish response that the body has been stolen from the tomb by a gardener. (Moloney, The Gospel of John (Sacra Pagina), 528)
When she encounters Jesus, Mary is inconsolable and likely still in shock. Gary M. Burge (b. 1952) comments, “Her conclusion that perhaps this man moved Jesus’ body since he happened to be the gardener indicates that she has not heard the man standing before her (Craig A. Evans [b. 1952], Bible Knowledge Background Commentary: John, Hebrews-Revelation (Bible Knowledge Series), 156).”

Mary, like many in mourning, is on a mission, staying busy by doing the distracting work of taking care of the deceased’s affairs. She assumes the highly unusual role of chief mourner and claims her right to Jesus’ body. Jack W. Stallings (b. 1944) speculates, “Mary apparently supposes that there has been some objection to Jesus’ having been buried in this particular tomb and assures (the gardener) that she will assume the responsibility of finding another place to bury the body (Stallings, The Randall House Bible Commentary: The Gospel of John, 279).”

D.A. Carson (b. 1946) analyzes:

Perhaps, she told herself, he had seen something – indeed, perhaps he had been involved in the moving of the body himself. If Mary thought him to be the gardener, she may have wondered if he had been under orders from the owner to remove the body of this executed criminal from the new tomb where it had been hurriedly placed. That she should offer to make the arrangements to fetch the body and given it a proper burial suggests she was a woman of some wealth and standing (as Luke 8:2-3 attests). (Carson, The Gospel according to John (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 641)
Mary’s interpretation is mundane - she mistakes Jesus for the gardener (kepouros). This is the only time this word appears in the New Testament. Counselor and gardener Catherine McCann defines:
The gardener could mean the owner of the garden or an overseer or caretaker—therefore someone who would have known who disturbed the tomb. Brown remarks that the word kepouros (“gardener”) is the only biblical reference using this term, yet it was not an uncommon word in secular papyri. (McCann, New Paths Toward the Sacred: Awakening the Awe Experience in Everyday Living, 152)
Craig L. Blomberg (b. 1955) rationalizes, “Presumably he looks less angelic than the other two individuals, so that she mistakes him for a gardener (recall John 19:41) (Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of John’s Gospel: Issues & Commentary, 263).”

Andreas J. Köstenberger (b. 1957) notes that gardener was the best guess available to Mary.

Apart from grave robbers or other mourners—neither of whom would have been likely visitors at this early morning hour—gardeners attending to the grounds where a tomb was located (cf. John 19:41) would have been the only people around. Mary’s guess indicates that at first blush the resurrected Jesus is indistinguishable from an ordinary person. (Clinton E. Arnold [b.1958], Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary: John, Acts, 188)
Jo-Ann A. Brant (b. 1956) justifies Mary’s blunder:
The confusion of Jesus with a gardener is logical, given that they are standing in a garden. The misidentification points to the degree to which Jesus’s appearance is unexpected. That Jesus has left his burial clothes in the tomb might provoke fanciful speculation that Jesus has borrowed the gardener’s clothes. Rembrandt depicts this possibility in his painting The Resurrected Lord Appears to Mary Magdalene (1651) [pictured]. (Brant, John (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 269)
Some have seen Mary’s misconception as indicative of inadequate faith. Mark A. Matson (b.1951) critiques:
It is curious that, having seen and heard the angels in the tomb, she would still ask Jesus, thinking him to be a gardener, where the body has been moved. This question underscores her lack of comprehension and belief. (Matson, John (Interpretation Bible Studies),119)
Ben Witherington III (b. 1951) adds:
Her lack of spiritual perceptivity at this point could hardly be made clearer. On the other hand, it seems characteristic of first appearance stories that Jesus is not immediately recognized (cf. the Emmaus story in Luke 24). G.R. Beasley-Murray [1916-2000] has conjectured that the glorified Jesus made himself sensibly recognizable only to his disciples but that in his transfigured condition he would not have been distinguishable from other supernatural beings such as an angel. The problem with this suggestion is that Mary confuses Jesus with a gardener, but she certainly does not confuse him with the angels in the tomb. (Witherington, John’s Wisdom: A Commentary on the Fourth Gospel, 331)
As Witherington notes, not recognizing the post resurrected Jesus is not an uncommon phenomena (Luke 24:13-16). More than any deficiency in faith, Mary’s reaction accentuates the unexpectedness of the resurrection. She could not perceive Jesus because she had rejected the possibility of seeing him.

Are you looking for Jesus? Would you recognize him if you saw him? Have you ever not recognized a loved one because they were in an unexpected place? Why does Mary fail to recognize Jesus? Is her misidentification an evidence of a lack of faith? Is Mary completely wrong?

In a way, Mary is correct - she is encountering the gardener. In John 15:1-17, Jesus paints a famous picture of a vine meticulously trimmed by a gardener so that it might produce optimum fruit. Though the word for gardener (georgos) is different, the analogy begins with Jesus stating that the Father is the gardener of the vine (John 15:1).

The imagery may even bring the Biblical story full circle by alluding back to creation. Gary M. Burge (b. 1952) explains:

Some interpreters believe that John is consciously sweeping up numerous biblical motifs that connect with the theme of “garden.” If so, it is no accident that in John 20:15, here in this garden, Mary misunderstands the identity of Jesus and thinks he is the gardener. Nicolas Wyatt [b.1941], after showing the historical evidence in Judaism that placed the Garden of Eden in the Holy Land, goes on to show how motifs from the Eden story reappear in numerous literatures of the period. If this imagery is at work (and here many would caution us), in this story we are viewing a woman in “Paradise” meeting the ruler of the Garden himself, Jesus. (Burge, John (The NIV Application Commentary), 548)
Through his death and resurrection, Jesus plants the seed that will lead humanity to the new Eden.

Sandra M. Schneiders (b. 1936) adds:

The...scene, redolent of allusions to both the garden of the first creation (cf. Genesis 2:8-15 and Genesis 3:8-10) and the Song of Songs (especially Song of Solomon 3:1-4), brings the lover, Mary Magdalene, to the garden of the tomb searching for her Beloved and refusing comfort or enlightenment from anyone, even angels, who cannot tell her where he is...He is indeed the divine gardener inaugurating the New Creation, the Good Shepherd calling his own name, and the Spouse of the New Covenant rewarding the search of the anguished lover. (John R. Donahue [b. 1933], Life in Abundance: Studies of John’s Gospel in Tribute to Raymond E. Brown [1928-1998],183)
Ravi Zacharias (b. 1946) concludes, “Yes, there is a Gardener...And, yes, the Gardener is the God revealed fully in Jesus Christ (Zacharias, Jesus Among Other Gods: The Absolute Claims of the Christian Message, Extreme Edition).”

Given the same data as Mary, what conclusion would you have drawn? If Jesus were to cross your path, how would you recognize him?

“The best place to find God is in a garden. You can dig for him there.” - George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950)

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Pierced for Our Transgressions (John 19:34)

What did the soldiers do to the side of Jesus on the cross? Pierced it with a spear.

The gospel of John (and only the fourth gospel) records that governor Pontius Pilate ordered the legs of those being crucified, including Jesus, to be broken (John 19:31-37). This was one of the few blows involved in crucifixion that was not commanded in derision.

Bruce J. Malina (b. 1933) and Richard L. Rohrbaugh (b. 1936) explain:

Breaking the legs of a runaway slave or a fugitive was punishment; for a crucified person it was a favor, since it enabled the person to suffocate rather quickly. Here we are told that the soldiers found Jesus dead already, and therefore did not break his legs. (Malina and Rohrbaugh, Social Science Commentary on the Gospel of John, 272)
While the other two condemned men needed their legs broken to speed their demise, Jesus’ limbs were left in tact as he was found already dead (John 19:33). Instead, a soldier jabbed Jesus’ side with spear (John 19:34).
But one of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and immediately blood and water came out. (John 19:34 NASB)
Colin G. Kruse (b. 1938) relays:
Instead of breaking his legs, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus’ side with a spear. Presumably, the spear thrust was to ensure that Jesus was dead, but the spear penetrated quite a away, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water. (Kruse, The Gospel According to John: An Introduction and Commentary (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries) , 371)
John sees the incident as corresponding to Old Testament passages in both Psalms (Psalm 34:20) and Zechariah (Zechariah 12:10). For the evangelist, this connection is further evidence for belief (John 19:35-37).

Frederick Dale Bruner (b. 1932) summarizes:

The piercing and the Witnesses (John 19:31-37) underline how Jesus’ postmortem treatment, particularly his pierced side (form which come flowing blood and water, attested by very trustworthy witnesses), remarkably fulfills both the words of ancient Scriptures and the very promises of Jesus himself (e.g., Exodus 12:46; Psalm 34:20; Zechariah 12:10; and John 4:10, 6:53, 55; 7:37-39). (Bruner, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, 1095)
Johannes Beutler (b. 1933) critiques, “In spite of considerable differences in wording, the looking upon the pierced side of Jesus is considered to be foretold by scripture, in this case Zechariah 12:10. (R. Alan Culpepper [b. 1946] and C. Clifton Black [b. 1955], Exploring the Gospel of John: in honor of D. Moody Smith [b.1931], 149).”

Leon Morris (1914-2006) adds that there is an allusion to Passover:

This appears to be a reference to the requirement that the bones of the Passover victim should not be broken (Exodus 12:46; Numbers 9:12). It would seem that John means us to think that Jesus’ death was the real Passover sacrifice (cf. the similar view of Paul, I Corinthians 5:7). (Morris, The Gospel According to John (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 686)
Perhaps more important than any prophetic fulfillment is the fact that the post-mortem spear thrust establishes that Jesus died. To have resurrection, one must demonstrate proof of death. Craig L. Blomberg (b. 1955) elucidates:
The unusual speed of his death is almost certainly related to the severe flogging he had previously received (John 19:1). So, instead of breaking his legs, one of the soldiers thrusts a spear into his side (John 19:34). In a world without modern medical techniques for determining the exact moment of death, this may have been the easiest way to ensure Jesus had no spark of life left in him as the authorities prepared to take his body off the cross...Commentators and physicians alike have debated the medical significance of the outflow of water and blood. What first-century readers would have recognized was John’s emphasis on the complete and genuine death of Jesus. (Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of John’s Gospel: Issues & Commentary, 255)
F.F. Bruce (1910-1990) adds:
This was sufficient answer to those forms of docetism current when he wrote which held that the Christ did not really die. The persistence of this view is reflected in the statement in the Qur’ān that ‘they did not kill him, neither did they crucify him; it only seemed to be so’. (Bruce, The Gospel of John: Introduction, Exposition, Notes, 376)
The blow generates a peculiar reaction - the excretion of both blood and water (John 19:34). Apologists point to this detail as the definitive biblical verse which demonstrates that Jesus did indeed die.

Rick Cornish (b. 1950) writes:

The release of “blood and water” as described by eyewitnesses (John 19:34) is exactly what medical science expects when a person dies under these conditions. Severe shock accelerated the heart rate leading to heart failure, depositing fluid in the membrane around the heart and lungs. So he was probably dead when the soldier speared Him in the side, piercing His rib cage, lung, and heart. If He was still alive, the spear thrust would have killed Him. (Cornish, 5 Minute Apologist: Maximum Truth in Minimum Time, 151)
D.A. Carson (b. 1946) explicates:
The verb enyxen (‘pierced’) could in itself suggest nothing more than a ‘stab’ to see if Jesus was alive, but the rest of the verse shows that there was significant penetration: the wound brought a sudden flow of blood and water. Medical experts disagree on what was pierced. The two most common theories are these: (a) The spear pierced Jesus’ heart , and the blood from the heart mingled with the fluid from the periocardial sac to produce the ‘flow of blood and water’. (b) By contrast, it has been argued that fluid from the pericardial sac could not so readily escape from the body by such a wound; it would fill up the chest cavity, filling the space around the lung and then oozing into the lung itself through the wound the spear made. In tests performed on cadavers, it has been shown that where a chest has been severely injured but without penetration, hemorrhagic fluid, up to two litres of it, gathers between the pleura lining the rib cage and the lining of the lung. This separates, the clearer serum at the top, the deep red layer at the bottom. If the chest cavity were then pierced at the bottom, both layers would flow out...However the medical experts work this out, there can be little doubt that the Evangelist is emphasizing Jesus’ death, his death as a man, his death beyond any shadow of doubt. (Carson, The Gospel according to John (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 623)
Jesus’ humanity is on full display as there is nothing less divine than death. Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) writes:
One of the soldiers pierced Jesus’ side with a spear, a thrust doubtless aimed at Jesus’ heart to be sure of his death (Quintilian 35-100], Declamationes maiores 6.9, “and at once there came out blood and water” (John 19:34b). The reference to the discharge of blood and water would be heard by Mediterranean readers as a testimony to the real humanity of the crucified one. Several parallels confirm the point. First, the Iliad 5.340-41 says that from a goddess, wounded with a lance, “blood-water” alone issued forth instead of blood and water, because gods who neither eat bread nor drink wine have no blood. Second, Plutarch [45-120], Moralia 180e, has Alexander the Great [356-323 BCE] tell those who regarded him as a god, “This is blood, as you can seem and not blood-water, such as flows in the holy gods.” Third IV Maccabees 9:20 tells how, at the martyrdom of the eldest of the seven brothers, not only blood but also blood-water flowed from his body onto the instrument of torture. His was a truly human death. Moreover, it is significant that Irenaeus [130-202] (Against Heresies 3.22.2) interprets the flow of blood and water from Jesus’ side, along with his hunger and thirst and physical fatigue, as a sign of his humanity. (Talbert, Reading John: A Literary and Theological Commentary on the Fourth Gospel and the Johannine Epistles, 254)
How important is it to you that Jesus was fully human? Why do you think the evangelist went to such great lengths to demonstrate that Jesus actually died? Do the connections between the piercing of Jesus and the Old Testament bolster your faith? Is there any symbolic significance to the event?

Numerous theories have been extended regarding the symbolic significance of the combination of blood and water that oozes from Jesus (John 19:34).

Urban C. Von Wahlde (b. 1941) connects the water to the “living water” that Jesus offers earlier in the gospel (John 7:37-39):

For the author of John 19:34, the fact that the blood of Jesus issued forth in addition to water is very important. Could it be that John 19 is a complement and a development of the thought of John 7:37-39? If the Fourth Gospel is more interested in theology than in narrative niceties, then we have an explanation. (Tom Thatcher [b. 1967], What We Have Heard From the Beginning: The Past, Present and Future of Johannine Studies, 348)
Robert Kysar (b. 1934) responds:
The search for the symbolic meaning of the two liquids has not been...easy. The primary question is whether or not the two are symbolic of the sacraments, and that seems clearly not to be the case. Water functions elsewhere in this gospel to symbolize the Spirit (e.g., John 7:39) and the revelation of God (e.g. Revelation 4:10ff.), While that might be the sense of water here, this verse is not intended as a fulfillment of John 7:39)...The blood might stand for the benefits of Jesus’ death flowing out from the cross, chief among them the gift of the Spirit. I John 5:6-8 seems to be an interpretation of this passage, but that does not mean that the sense of the verse in the epistle is necessarily the sense the evangelist had in mind. All in all two observations are called for: (1) The primary point to be established by this verse is the reality of Jesus’ death...(2) John may also have wanted to hint at the outpouring of the benefits of the crucifixion for the believer. (Kysar, John (Augsburg Commentary on the New Testament), 291-292)
Jo-Ann A. Brant (b. 1956) goes back further in time and sees a link to the Passover:
One of the soldiers with his lance pierced the side, and to his surprise, and surely to that of the first audience, out came a flow of blood and water (John 19:34). This issue of fluid invites investigation of its surplus of symbolic meaning and ironic significance. The soldier, who seems to imitate the humiliation of a defeated combative enemy is showered with life-giving elements. Mary Coloe points out that this is temple imagery. Jesus dies at the same time as the blood from the Passover lamb flows from the temple. The water signifies that Jesus is the eschatalogical temple from which the water of the spirit of life flows. (Brant, John (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 254)
Gary M. Burge (b. 1952) also sees an association with Passover:
Just as with the many other events on this day, John no doubt sees symbolism that goes beyond the surface meaning of piercing. Most evangelicals are reluctant to see sacramental symbolism here (such as baptism and the Lord’s Supper in the images of water and blood) although this has been a common view from the earliest centuries. More promising is the view that sees Passover symbolism at work. John may be making the point that the crucified Jesus qualifies as a Passover victim. He notes, for instance, that Jesus’ legs are not broken, likely because it was illegal for any Passover sacrifice to have broken bones. The lamb must be a perfect sacrifice. In case we miss this subtle point, John even alludes to the Passover requirement in Exodus 12:46 at the end of the paragraph, “Not one of his bones will be broken” (John 19:36; see also Numbers 9:12; Psalm 34:20). (Burge, John (The NIV Application Commentary), 506)
Scot McKnight (b. 1953) supplements:
It is difficult to know...what to make of the “water and blood” of the crucifixion of Jesus (John 19:34; cf. I John5:6-9), but it is safe to think that the language functions as either an antic-docetic notation or a symbol for purification. Along similar lines, it is clear that John finds it important that Jesus dies at the same time as do the Pesah victims at the temple (John 18:29, 39, 19:14), but it is not altogether clear what kind of atonement theology he finds in such a connection. If Jesus is the Passover victim, ingested at some personal level for his followers, it would mean he is the center of the celebration and that in which they participate in order to memorialize the redemption. It would also mean he would be the protector from the wrath of the slaying angel of YHWH. (McKnight, Jesus And His Death: Historiography, the Historical Jesus, And Atonement Theory, 369)
Andreas J. Köstenberger (b. 1957) posits that as his blood and water spill, Jesus’ very nature is on display:
Perhaps “blood and water”...points to Jesus’ two natures, human and divine. The parallel I John 5:6-8 refers to spirit, water, and blood; Jesus gave up his spirit when he died (John 19:30), leaving behind blood and water. (Köstenberger, John (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 552)
N.T. Wright (b. 1948) concludes:
Of course, at this moment of all moments, none of this is simply told for the sake of historical detail, vital though that is (the Word really did become flesh, not a phantom!). John has left us in no doubt that all these details, too, though from one point of view ‘accidental’ (nobody could have guessed what the soldiers might do next), were all to be seen as heaven-sent signs of what it all meant. We only have to think back through the gospel, to all the occasions where water and blood are mentioned, to realize that again and again they point to Jesus as the source of life, cleansing and purification. All these themes come together at this moment. (Wright, John for Everyone: Chapters 11-21, 135)
Is there symbolic significance to the blood and water which emanates from Jesus? What does the crucifixion mean to you?

“But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, And by His scourging we are healed.” - Isaiah 53:5 NASB

Monday, April 2, 2012

Choosing The Wrong Jesus (Mark 15:15)

Who was released in order for Jesus to be crucified? Barabbas.

All four gospels record that a policy existed by which a prisoner was released at Passover (Matthew 27:15; Mark 15:6; Luke 23:7; John 18:39). At Jesus’ hearing before governor Pontius Pilate, this Passover amnesty gives the spectators a presumably unbalanced choice of whose life to spare - Jesus or a prisoner named Barabbas (Matthew 27:17; Luke 23:18; John 18:40). Matthew records that the alternative was posed by Pilate (Matthew 27:17), Mark attributes it to the priests (Mark 15:11) and John to the mob (John 18:40). Pilate assumes that the crowd will prefer the popular (albeit controversial) young preacher, Jesus, to the bloodthirsty killer. Instead, the crowd chooses the insurrectionist and Jesus is sent to be crucified (Matthew 27:15-26; Mark 15:6-15; Luke 23:17-19; John 18:39-40).

Though Barabbas does not speak in the Bible, all four gospels name him (Matthew 27:16, 17, 20, 21, 26; Mark 15:7, 11, 15; Luke 23:18; John 18:40). While the descriptions of him vary, the gospels agree that Barabbas deserves to be on trial. Matthew calls him a “notorious prisoner” (Matthew 27:16 NASB). Mark states that he had “committed murder in the insurrection” (Mark 15:7 NASB). John notes that Barabbas was a “robber” (John 18:40). In one of his first sermons, Peter calls him a murderer (Acts 3:14). Barabbas is obviously a known commodity, but exactly who he is cannot be determined as the brief New Testament references do not provide the specifics of his crimes and he is not mentioned outside of the Bible.

John Shelby Spong (b. 1931) acknowledges:

Mystery surrounds Barabbas, who is never mentioned either before this moment or after. He is defined in Mark as one who “committed murder during the insurrection” (Mark 15:7). His evils seems to increase as the later gospels pick up his story. He is “notorious” in Matthew (Matthew 27:16), a bandit in John (John 18:40, NRSV). (Spong, Jesus for the Non-Religious, 168)
The Greek provides little help in identifying his crimes. Allen Black (b. 1951) explains:
Barabbas...was one of several men imprisoned for committing murder in a riot. The nouns which the NIV translates “insurrectionists” and “uprising” [Mark 15:7] are cognate nouns (στασιαστής, stasiastes and στάσις, stasis) which could refer to a range of activities from general rioting to a major insurrection. (Black, Mark (The College Press NIV Commentary), 268)
William L. Lane (1931-1999) adds:
The leader of this revolt seems to have been a popular hero, and may have been a leading Zealot, but little is known of him or his deeds...The fact that Barabbas is introduced prior to the reference to the petitioners in Mark 15:8 suggests that the latter were supporters of the insurgent who came to the forum specifically to ask for his release. (Lane, The Gospel according to Mark (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 554)
It has been assumed that Barabbas was a prominent figure in a movement resisting the Roman empire. It has even been posited that he belonged to the Sicarii (literally “dagger men”), a group of radical Jewish patriots who pledged to murder Roman rulers and their collaborators whenever possible. Barabbas’ supporters would have perceived him to be a freedom fighter.

Robert H. Gundy (b. 1932) suspects that knowing the specifics of Barabbas’ crimes would only distract from the narrative:

The placement of ἐν τη στάσει, “in the insurrection,” and φόνον, “murder,” before the verb calls attention to the criminality of Barabbas and his fellow prisoners. Against this foil Jesus’ innocence stands out in bold relief: Barabbas deserves to be bound and crucified; Jesus does not. Mark avoids obscuring this apologetic contrast with details concerning the insurrection. (Gundry, Mark: A Commentary on His Apology for the Cross, 926)
As the text leaves his sins to the imagination, Barabbas becomes an abstract but more relatable figure - he is the one who deserves the punishment that Jesus receives.

The name Barabbas is also generic, meaning, “son of a father.” John R. Donahue (b. 1933) dissects:

The proper name here consists of two Aramaic elements: bar meaning “son” and ’abba’ meaning “father.” The derivation from Bar-Rabban (“son of the master”) is less likely. There were rabbis known as “Bar-Abba,” and the practice of using bar plus the father’s name is witnessed in the cases of Simon bar Jona (for Peter; see Matthew 16:17) and Simeon Bar Kokhba (or Kosiba) around 132-135 C.E. Some manuscripts supply Barabbas with the first name “Jesus” in Matthew 27:16. Since one would expect him to have a first name and since it is unlikely that early Christians would have created the name “Jesus” for him there may well be a historical basis for this tradition. In either case the choice presented to the crowd—between Jesus of Nazareth (the real “Son of the Father”) and (Jesus) Barabbas—is rich in irony and in theological significance. (Donahue, The Gospel of Mark (Sacra Pagina), 432)
Gerrit Vos (1894-1968) declares, “Everyone in the world is in this Barabbas. The man born of a human father.”

As noted, Barabbas’ given name may have been Jesus. The New English Bible even translates his name as such, “Jesus Bar-Abbas” (Matthew 27:16, NEB).

Joel Marcus (b. 1951) analyzes:

Some texts of Matthew 27:16-17, mostly of a Caesarean type... read “Jesus Barabbas” rather than “Barabbas,” and Origen [184-253]acknowledges that some of the manuscripts known to him attest this reading (Commentary on Matthew 121 [on Matthew 27:16-18]). Many scholars think that “Jesus Barabbas” was the original reading in Matthew and that the forename was later suppressed by reverential scribes who felt, as Origen did, that no sinner should bear the name of Jesus...This theory is made more plausible by the observation that the forename has been erased from several manuscripts (see F. Crawford Burkitt [1864-1935], Evangelion da-Mepharreshe 2.277)...Some exegetes...even suggest that “Jesus Barabbas” may have been the original reading in Mark, since “the one called Barabbas” is awkward, and elsewhere ho legomenos is usually preceded by a personal name and followed by a descriptive title or nickname (Matthew 1:16, 4:18, 10:2, 27:17, 22; John 11:16, 20:24, 21:2; Colossians 4:11). There are instances, however, in which ho legomenos is not preceded by the personal name (Matthew 26:3, 14; Luke 22:47; John 4:25, 9:11, 19:17), and awkward expressions are common in Mark. (Marcus, Mark 8-16 (The Anchor Yale Bible Commentaries), 1028)
Ben Witherington III (b. 1951) adds:
At Mark 15:7 we are introduced to Barabbas, whose name according to a textual variant at Matthew 27:16 was Jesus Barabbas. This, in turn, has led to the suggestion that Pilate misheard the crowd when they were shouting for the release of Jesus Barabbas, thinking they were asking for Jesus of Nazareth. But there is no clear evidence for such a conclusion here, and most of the earliest and best manuscripts do not have the name Jesus appended to Barabbas.(Witherington, The Gospel of Mark: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 391)
When Barabbas hears his name called, he likely thinks it is to be executed. Much to Barabbas’ surprise and Pilate’s chagrin, the crowd chooses to spare Barabbas instead of Jesus. While the gospels vary on who is most responsible for suggesting Barabbas as an alternative, they are unified in recounting the crowd’s unified decision to release the insurrectionist (Matthew 27:21; Mark 15:15; Luke 23:18; John 18:40). The people not only choose Barabbas, but reject Jesus, demanding his death (Matthew 27:22,23; Mark 15:13; Luke 23:21; John 19:15). The latter decision is more difficult to understand.

Mary Healy (b. 1964) questions:

Why would the crowd demand such a horrible fate for their fellow Jew? Mark does not explain, and leaves it as a question for the reader to contemplate. Perhaps the nationalists in the crowd regard Jesus a threat to the release of their man, Barabbas. Perhaps they regard the kingdom of God that he preached (Mark 1:14-15) as a futile pie-in-the-sky religious quest when what was really needed was violent, military action to liberate Israel. It is also possible that most people in the crowd did not know who Jesus was and were simply willing to go along with the chief priests’ agitation. In either case, they demonstrate chilling indifference to the torments to which they expose him. (Healy, The Gospel of Mark, (Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture), 309)
There is a tragic irony in their shocking selection. Jesus is targeted because of his popularity and growing influence yet the crowds who are responsible for his influence are also behind his execution.

Pilate did not account for an extreme form of peer pressure, mob psychology. The crowd is incited by it religious leaders (Matthew 27:20; Mark 15:11). Lamar Williamson, Jr. (b. 1926) examines:

The explicit motivation..is that “the chief priests stirred up the crowd.” The mob is essentially mindless and subject to manipulation. For whatever motives, twice they reject Jesus as king (Mark 15:9, 12), and twice, by acclamation they call for his death: “Crucify him” (Mark 15:13-14). (Williamson, Mark (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 271)
The crowd is stirred into a frenzy, willing to believe the worst about the best regardless of the facts. Passion overrides judgment. Psychology has demonstrated that it takes only a handful of people positioned in strategic places to start a riot.

Leslie J. Francis (b. 1947) determines:

Here is a narrative about crowd psychology. Consider how little responsibility each individual in the crowd took for the release of Barabbas, how little responsibility each individual in the crowd took for the crucifixion of Jesus, how the moral autonomy of the individual is eroded by the power of the crowd. (Francis, Personality Type and Scripture: Exploring Mark’s Gospel, 145)
Barabbas became the popular choice and as is often the case, the popular choice was wrong.

When have you made a decision simply to follow the crowd? Why do the spectators choose Barabbas? When have you seen a popular choice proven wrong? Have you ever seen religious officials lead their followers astray? Is Barabbas’ inclusion in each gospel evidence of substitutionary atonement? Compare and contrast Jesus and Barabbas.

The two figures are intended to be contrasted. Not only are Jesus’ and Barabbas’ names similar, but they find themselves in very similar positions. Both wish to save their people, Barabbas from Rome; Jesus from sin and death.

Theodore W. Jennings (b. 1942) recognizes:

Jesus and Barabbas belong together in some odd way...It really doesn’t matter how far we seek to distinguish the strategy of Jesus from that of Barabbas. Jesus himself does not condemn Barabbas, even if he does seem to embody a different way of confronting the imperial authorities. Instead, he dies in his place. If Jesus’ death may be literally said to be a ransom for another, that other is first of all none other than Barabbas, the terrorist, the assassin. (Jennings, Transforming Atonement: A Political Theology of the Cross, 32)
M. Eugene Boring (b. 1935) adds:
Many Gentile Christians could be expected to see “Barabbas” as an ironic counterpart to Jesus, the true Son of the Father. The parallel and contrast may go further: Barabbas has already been convicted of insurrection and sentenced to death, but will escape; Jesus is falsely accused of insurrection and will die in Barabbas’ place, although he is innocent and has not been convicted or sentenced. During the whole period from the Roman takeover of Palestine (63 BCE) to the actual revolt in 66 CE, the only people crucified in Palestine were those convicted of being revolutionaries and their followers. It is important for Mark and his readers to distinguish Jesus from revolutionaries such as Barabbas. The point will again be made at the cross, where those crucified as actual revolutionaries will dissociate themselves from Jesus (Mark 15:32). (Boring, Mark: A Commentary (New Testament Library), 420-21)
Barabbas serves as a stark reminder of the grim reality of the situation - he should have been the one to die. Gary W. Charles (b. 1954) concludes:
Barabbas...is chiefly a Markan foil to advance the story by emphasizing the dramatic injustice being done to Jesus. The tragic irony is advanced when the same crowd that had shouted “Hosanna” at the entrance to Jerusalem (Mark 11:9) is now manipulated by the chief priests to shout “Crucify him!” (Mark 15:14). Ironically, Jesus, the one who can save lives (Hosanna means “Save now” in Hebrew) is rejected in favor of one who has taken life. (Brian K. Blount [b. 1955] and Charles, Preaching Mark in Two Voices, 235)
The crowd’s choice is also indicative of a greater ideology. Barabbas represents the world’s way of doing things while Jesus presents a radical alternative. R. Kent Hughes (b. 1942) exclaims:
The crowd preferred Jesus Bar-Abbas to Jesus Bar-Joseph, the real son of the Father!...Why? Because Barabbas was a grotesque form of the Messiah Israel wanted! He was a leading Zealot, a political activist who had taken to the bandit trail. He was a man of action who would even murder to reach his own ends (cf. Acts 3:14; Matthew 27:16; Luke 23:19; John 18:40). In the twisted thinking of some, he was a patriot. His vitality and elan appealed to the mob. Jesus, however, had disappointed them with his inaction. The people chose lawlessness instead of righteousness, violence instead of love, war instead of peace. The world is still the same. (Hughes, Mark: Jesus, Servant and Savior, Volume Two (Preaching the Word), 193)
David E. Garland (b. 1947) laments:
The choice of Barabbas represents the human preference for the one who represents our narrow personal hopes—in this particular case, a perverted nationalism. He appeals to our basic instinct to protect our interests, with violence if necessary. In contemporary culture, we have been indoctrinated to prefer the violent answer over the peaceful one...Our heroes become the Barbbases of the world, who take matters into their own hands and dispatch the enemy with brute force or clever trickery. If the vote came today, then, Barabbas would likely win again, hands down. (Garland, Mark (The NIV Application Commentary), 583)
The contrast between Jesus and Barabbas is illustrated in the work of British artist George Tinworth (1843-1913). In 1882, Tinworth produced a terra cotta relief called “The Release of Barabbas” (pictured). There is perfect symmetry between the scene’s three principal figures - Barabbas, Pilate and Jesus. Pilate occupies the painting’s center, situated between a bound solemn Jesus and Barabbas whose hands are free. Inscribed beneath Barabbas are the words, “The World’s Choice” while the marker beneath Jesus reads, “The Good Shepherd” (John 10:11). Tinworth was correct. The world tends to choose poorly, continually favoring Barabbas over Jesus.

N.T. Wright (b. 1948) resolves:

The story of Barabbas invites us to see Jesus’ crucifixion in terms of a stark personal exchange. Barabbas deserves to die; Jesus dies instead, and he goes free. Barabbas was the archetypical Jewish rebel: quite probably what we today would call a fanatical right-wing zealot, determined to stop at nothing to bring in a version of God’s kingdom which consisted of defeating Roman power by Roman means – in other words, repaying pagan violence with holy violence. No doubt many Christians in Mark’s community, and others who would read his book, had at one stage at least flirted with such revolutionary movements. Reading the story of the guilty man freed and the innocent man crucified, it would not be hard for them to identify with Barabbas, and to view the rest of the story with the awestruck gaze of people who think, ‘There but for God’s grace go I.’ (Wright, Mark for Everyone, 209)
Who will you choose, Jesus or Barabbas? What do you think became of Barababas, a man who was lived because Jesus died? How has this same phenomenon affected you?

“Pilate told the people that they could spare the life of either a murderer named Barabbas or Jesus of Nazareth, and they chose Barabbas. Given the same choice, Jesus, of course, would have chosen to spare Barabbas too.” - Frederick Buechner (b. 1926), Peculiar Treasures: A Biblical Who’s Who, p. 15