Passion

Magis Online Encyclopedia of Reason and Faith – Jesus

Unit II. M

Is God Unconditional Love? – The Passion

© Robert J. Spitzer, S.J., Ph.D./Magis Institute July 2011

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Introduction

The Eucharist is not only Jesus’ definitive interpretation of His passion and death; it is also the definitive vehicle through which He communicates His presence and love to all future generations. So, how can our insight into the preciousness of this gift be deepened through the examination of Jesus’ passion? From a contemplative point of view, the possibilities are considerable for deepening the heart’s awareness of the love of Christ. As one considers Jesus’ willing acceptance of each part of the passion as a gift of self (love) for all humankind, one begins to affectively (not just intellectually) appreciate what unconditional Love really is; and when one sees this Love through the eyes, the face, the mind, the heart of the gentle Lamb willingly led to the slaughter, one begins to receive an answer to the questions: “Would an unconditionally loving God do something like this?” and “Is Jesus His Emmanuel?”

Since my intention here is to induce contemplation (that is, prayerful reflection on the texts of the passion), I will discuss only three important propaedeutic points: (1) an overview of the historicity of the passion narratives (Section I), (2) an analysis of Jesus’ final words on the cross (Section II), and (3) a presentation of the pre-Marcan tradition and Mark’s passion narrative (Section III). The reader may then want to return to the previous Unit on the Eucharist to probe with contemplative insight into the meaning and reality of Jesus’ love.

The Historicity of the Passion

It may be observed from the outset that Jesus’ plan to redeem the world was anything but apologetical or popular, for the idea of a suffering Messiah was thought to be a curse by His Jewish and gentile contemporaries (Dt 21:23, Gal 3:13, I Cor 12:3). Nevertheless, Jesus, knowing what would befall Him, proceeded resolutely toward Jerusalem. In light of our discussion of the Eucharist, His plan had but one objective: to join with the Father in an act of unconditional self-gift (love) for the salvation of humankind. Even though Jesus was convinced of His vindication and resurrection (see Unit II-L, Section II), He must have known that the crucifixion would be viewed as a scandal, and used against Him by His critics. Nevertheless, He viewed the passion as being indispensable to His mission. Why? Because He associated the passion with gift of self, which, as is clear from His institution of the Eucharist, He associated with unconditional Love. One can see this kind of love mirrored in parents who willingly endure humiliation, and even place themselves in harm’s way, in order to protect the lives and future of their children. Jesus viewed Himself as responsible (as shepherd and brother) for all of us who were to become, through Him, the Father’s adopted children.

Before beginning a formal analysis of the historicity of the passion narratives, we will want to examine a contention of Dominic Crossan (of the Jesus Seminar) who throws the historicity of these narratives into question by suggesting that they are derivatives of the (Gnostic) gospel of Peter. The gospel of Peter is a narrative of the trial, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus. It consists of sixty verses and has been dated to Papyri originating in about 200 AD. Crossan ignores the fact that there is no evidence for the gospel of Peter prior to 200 AD, and makes a radical suggestion that it was the only source from which the passion narratives of the four canonical Gospels were derived:

Composed by the fifties C.E., and possibly at Sepphoris in Galilee, it [the Cross Gospel in the Gospel of Peter] is the single source of the intracanonical passion narratives.

Charles Quarles sums up Crossan’s conclusions from his radical contention (which does not enjoy wide acceptance in the scholarly community) as follows:

The GP is more a product of the author’s creative literary imagination than a reflection of eyewitness accounts of actual events. Thus, if the GP is the single source for the canonical narratives of the Passion and resurrection, the canonical Gospels are unreliable revisions of an unreliable tradition. None of the Gospels could then be trusted to provide historically reliable testimony about the final events in the life of the historical Jesus.

Quarles shows this claim to be virtually untenable in the light of textual analysis. First, Crossan contends that the parallels between Matthew and the gospel of Peter regarding the Pharisees gathering before Pilate and expressing concern about a staged resurrection on the third day, the guarding and sealing of the tomb of Jesus, and the description of the Jews as “the people” shows Matthean dependence upon the gospel of Peter. Quarles shows precisely the opposite after studying the redactional tendencies of Matthew and the gospel of Peter. Following Gundry, Quarles shows that these texts are a series of “Mattheanisms,” particularly the use of the words “disciple,” “steal,” and “mēpote” – “lest” (except once where the gospel of Peter is clearly following Matthew in a subjunctive construction). He quotes John P. Meier by way of conclusion:

When it comes to who is dependent on whom, all the signs point to Matthew’s priority…. The clause is a tissue of Matthean vocabulary and style, a vocabulary and style almost totally absent from the rest of the Gospel of Peter.

Secondly, there are doctrines and sayings in the gospel of Peter which do not occur in the canonical Gospels or the New Testament. For example, Jesus’ preaching to those who have fallen asleep (to those who have died). Quarles notes in this regard:

If the emerging consensus of interpretation regarding 1Peter is correct, the presence of the reference to preaching to those who sleep in the Gospel of Peter suggests that the document was composed no earlier than the first quarter of the second century.

The same holds true for other sayings, such as the “Lord’s day,” which is mentioned in the Gospel of Peter 9:35 and 12:50, but only appears in the New Testament in the Book of Revelations (approximately 90 AD). The Gospels used the more primitive expression “the first day of the week.”

Thirdly, the description of the resurrection in the gospel of Peter is “fantastic and quite at odds with the descriptions that appear in the canonical Gospels”:

…as the three men exited the tomb, a cross, apparently floating through the air, followed them. …[T]he cross was capable of speech. A heavenly voice asked, “Did you preach to those who are sleeping?” and the cross replied, “Yes.”

We have already seen (with respect to Jesus’ miracles) the tendency of the later Gnostic gospels to move from the balanced and mature perspective of the canonical Gospels to an exaggerated, fantastic, and immature perspective (see Unit II-G, Section II). The gospel of Peter here is no different than the gospels of Thomas and Philip.

Fourthly, the “apologetical case” for Jesus’ resurrection (responding to Jewish objections at the time) is more developed in the gospel of Peter than in the Gospel of Matthew, and

no sensible explanation for Matthew’s elimination of helpful apologetic material available to him from the Cross Gospel exists. This suggests that the author of the gospel of Peter depended on Matthew’s Gospel but revised it in order to present a more compelling case for the resurrection.

For these and other reasons, Quarles (along with Meier) hold Crossan’s position to be untenable , giving rise to the conclusion:

…[I]f the canonical Gospels are the earliest record of the Passion and resurrection, as this paper suggests, and if these contain the narratives based on eyewitness accounts, as the earliest church testimony affirms and as the internal evidence suggests, the earliest narratives of Jesus’ death and resurrection may be viewed as prophecy fulfilled rather than prophecy historicized, and speculation that Jesus was not even buried, much less raised, is groundless.

We may now proceed to the question of the historicity of the passion narratives. Though all four Gospels portray the passion through narratives aimed at different audiences, and these narratives have different styles and redactional emphases, it does not mean that they do not possess an extensive historical core.

There are remarkable agreements among the four lengthy passion narratives, but this does not automatically constitute multiple attestation because Matthew and Luke saw and made recourse to the Marcan narrative. Nevertheless, as will be explained below, Mark and John did not have knowledge of each other’s narratives, and so the many similarities between these two narratives constitute a very strong form of multiple attestation. Before considering this window into the historicity of the passion narratives, we must consider two more fundamental questions which are elucidated by Raymond Brown in his extensive two-volume analysis of the passion entitled: The Death of the Messiah :

(1) Did Jesus’ disciples have access to the data recounted in the various passion narratives? (Section I.A), and

(2) How can the criteria of historicity be applied to the passion narratives? (Section I.B)

Did Jesus’ Disciples Have Access to the Data Recounted in the Various Passion Narratives?

It is not my intention to respond to the extreme skepticism of Koester, Crossan, and other members of the Jesus Seminar. Raymond Brown has done this quite well. My objective is to briefly use the criteria of historicity to uncover those parts of the narratives which may be reasonably and responsibly shown to have come from an early Palestinian passion tradition, and which may also be linked to the Jesus of history.

Jesus’ crucifixion is so well attested by both Christian and non-Christian sources that it is as close to certain as any historical datum from the first century can be. The Roman historian Cornelius Tacitus makes explicit reference to the crucifixion of Jesus in the Annals (15.44) when speaking about Nero’s blaming the Christians for the burning of Rome:

Consequently, to get rid of the report, Nero fastened the guilt and inflicted the most exquisite tortures on a class hated for their abominations, called Christians by the populace. Christus, from whom the name had its origin, suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilatus, and a most mischievous superstition, thus checked for the moment, again broke out not only in Judaea, the first source of the evil, but even in Rome, where all things hideous and shameful from every part of the world find their centre and become popular.

There has been a considerable amount of discussion about the authenticity of this passage, but the majority of mainstream scholars concur with Kirby that:

The most persuasive case is made by those who maintain that Tacitus made use of a first century Roman document concerning the nature and status of the Christian religion. As to the reliability of that source, following normal historical practice, it is prudently assumed to be accurate until demonstrated otherwise. The reference from Tacitus constitutes prima facie evidence for the historicity of Jesus.

Jesus’ crucifixion is also attested by the Jewish historian Flavius Josephus. Recall from Unit II-F, Section I. that Josephus was writing for a Roman audience in about 93 AD, and that there are Christian interpolations in the text of Antiquities in which his testimony to Jesus is contained. As noted in Unit II-F, many mainstream scholars consider the italicized sections in the testimony cited below to be authentic:

Now there was about this time Jesus, a wise man, if it be lawful to call him a man; for he was a doer of wonderful works, a teacher of such men as receive the truth with pleasure. He drew over to him both many of the Jews and many of the Gentiles. He was [the] Christ. And when Pilate, at the suggestion of the principal men amongst us, had condemned him to the cross, those that loved him at the first did not forsake him; for he appeared to them alive again the third day; as the divine prophets had foretold these and ten thousand other wonderful things concerning him. And the tribe of Christians, so named from him, are not extinct at this day.

Again, this non-Christian testimony to Jesus’ crucifixion under Pontius Pilate is explicit and highly probable. There are other non-Christian testimonies to Jesus’ crucifixion, but they are far less significant than those of Tacitus and Josephus.

In addition to non-Christian testimony, Jesus’ crucifixion is attested by almost every New Testament source (e.g., the four Gospels, Acts, most of the Pauline letters, 1Peter, and the Letter to the Hebrews), it is recorded in virtually all of the primitive kerygmas, and is central to the early Church’s interpretation of Jesus and itself. Finally, one is confronted with the questions: “Why would the early Church have given detailed descriptions of the public humiliation and execution of their Messiah and Lord if it had not been historically true? What would have been the point of recounting a story that undermined its apologetical appeal?” In light of this, the crucifixion of Jesus within its proper setting (i.e., a public execution entailing an arrest, trial, and conviction) must be considered incontestable.

What about the details surrounding Jesus’ arrest, trial, and crucifixion? Are the events and details recounted in the passion narratives also historically accurate? Some critics, such as Dominic Crossan, believe that it is impossible to say because (as he gratuitously asserts) there were no eyewitnesses to the event:

It seems to me most likely that those closest to Jesus knew almost nothing about the details of the event. They knew only that Jesus had been crucified, outside Jerusalem, at the time of Passover, and probably through some conjunction of imperial and sacerdotal authority.

Brown demolishes Crossan’s contention by pointing to a seemingly obvious and vexing difficulty:

[Crossan] does not explain why he thinks this “most likely,” granted the well-founded tradition that those closest to Jesus had followed him for a long period of time, day and night. Did they suddenly lose all interest, not even taking the trouble to inquire about what must have been a most traumatic moment of their lives?

Brown explains the implications of his question through a series of virtually unassailable historical judgments:

Yet as we move back from the Gospel narratives to Jesus himself, ultimately there were eyewitnesses and earwitnesses who were in a potion to know the broad lines of Jesus’ passion. He was accompanied in his ministry by a group of disciples known as the Twelve, and there is no reason whatsoever to doubt that the arrest of Jesus was the occasion of his being separated from them. It is inconceivable that they showed no concern about what happened to Jesus after the arrest. True, there is no Christian claim that they were present during the legal proceedings against him, Jewish or Roman; but it is absurd to think that some information was not available to them about why Jesus has hanged on a cross. The whole purpose of crucifixion, after all, was to publicize that certain crimes would be severely punished. (That is the sense in which I include “earwitness”: hearing what was publicly said about the condemnation of Jesus.) The crucifixion itself was public, and nothing suggests that the burial was secret.

Attempts to present scenarios contrary to Brown’s in this regard truly verge on the illogical, unreasonable, and inconceivable; and they betray motives other than that of seeking the truth.

Furthermore, there is remarkable correspondence between the passion narrative and the Gospel of John, and recent archeological evidence uncovered by Charlesworth and von Wahlde which strongly suggests that there were eyewitnesses to Jesus’ crucifixion and burial. Von Wahlde summarizes his findings as follows:

The significance of this [archeological evidence] for our appreciation of the historical accuracy of John’s reports is considerable. Not only does John provide several details present in the Synoptics (the name of the place [Golgotha], its location outside the city walls), but he goes on to provide more detail than the other Gospels…details not essential to the narrative. If the presence of such details at first makes verification more difficult, the fact that they are corroborated by archaeological and other means [at the site of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem] demonstrates not only that the Johannine account contains remarkably accurate knowledge but also that the Gospel is in fact able to serve as a source of unique knowledge about the crucifixion and burial of Jesus.

This archaeological corroboration of John’s passion narrative also suggests the presence of eyewitnesses who were not only aware of the place of Jesus’ crucifixion and burial, but also reported it to the authors of the earliest passion traditions.

Presuming, then, that there were eyewitnesses, and that they would have wanted to see or hear as much as possible about the One who was central to their lives, what could they have witnessed? They could have witnessed Jesus’ betrayal by Judas and His apprehension by the Jewish authorities. They could have also heard about any public declaration of Jesus’ charge, conviction, and sentence. They could have known who was involved in the charging, convicting, and sentencing. They could have had knowledge of public events surrounding the conviction (e.g., the release of Barabbas, or Jewish authorities stirring up the crowd). They could have witnessed the carrying of the cross and any outward signs of persecution or torture that might have preceded His journey to Golgotha (e.g., scourging or crowning with thorns). They could have witnessed the crucifixion itself, the public inscription of Jesus’ offense, the people crucified with Jesus, and they could have heard His final words, seen His death, and witnessed His burial. Evidently, they would have been a party to certain events themselves (e.g., cutting off the ear of the high priest’s servant and denials).

Most of the above “witnessable” data was apologetically unappealing and presented obstacles to conversion. What would an early Jewish or gentile prospective convert find attractive about the public humiliation and execution of a messiah/leader? How did all the gory details of this crucifixion better establish Jesus’ role as messiah/leader? How would prospective Jewish converts have reacted to the contempt and rejection of Jesus by Jewish authorities? How would Peter’s denials and the apostles’ flight from Jerusalem have added to the Church’s “good image”? How does Jesus being numbered among criminals (e.g., Barabbas and the criminals crucified with Him) help the Church’s credibility among law-abiding citizens? In almost every case, the presentation of the “witnessable” data seems to undermine the early Christian’s image, credibility, and apologetical appeal. Why would they have presented these data in such detail if they had such potential and real damaging effects? I can think of only one reason. Because they were essentially true.

Can we render the same positive historical judgment about other details in the passion narratives beyond the basic “witnessable” data mentioned above? At this juncture, our pursuit of history becomes far more hazy and complex, because the witnessable data moves from eyewitnesses to catechists and teachers who need to interpret these traumatic (and unappealing) events to converts and potential converts. The natural tendency of such catechists, who were reared within Palestinian Judaism, would have been to use Scripture as a means of interpretation. Some of these attempts would be easily discernable because they would be introduced by phrases like “this was to fulfill the Scripture….” However, other Scripture passages might be on the lips of Jesus, such as the last words of Jesus in the Gospel of Mark (citing Psalm 22). The historian must now make the judgment of whether this was placed on the lips of Jesus, or whether Jesus selected these words for Himself (see below, Section II). Obviously, Jesus was accustomed to using Scripture to interpret His life, mission, and even crucifixion as much as, if not more than any later interpreter.

The historian’s task becomes even more complex when these traditions are woven into a single narrative. The editors of such narratives would have to be somewhat creative in synthesizing the various traditions. They might be inclined to embellish sayings or dialogue if that helped with the interpretation of recounted events. They could add thematic and even dramatic emphases to the narrative to further their catechetical or theological objectives. At this juncture, the historian must try to peel back the redactions of editors (especially the Evangelists) in order to get closer to the testimony of eyewitnesses which stand behind the narratives.

Recall from Unit II-B, Section I. that the first task is to get back to the primitive traditions that underlie the Gospel narratives, and then to judge the historicity of these primitive traditions by means of historical criteria and techniques to render judgments within a typical historical range:

…certain, very probable, probable, possible, not impossible. “Certain” has nothing to do with the certitude of mathematics or the physical sciences; it refers to the certitude we have in ordinary experience about the things we encounter or are reported to us in writing or orally.

The earliest passion narrative is in the Gospel of Mark. There can be little doubt that Matthew and Luke were both aware of Mark’s narrative and relied on it. As will be seen in the next section, John was not aware of Mark’s narrative, but he made recourse to a primitive tradition(s) very similar to the ones used by Mark. This coincidence is extremely useful to historians because it allows for an application of the criterion of multiple attestation, which, in turn, helps historians make judgments about whether various verses in the narratives can be considered to be part of a pre-Marcan (and pre-Johannine) tradition.

In Section I.B, we will take a brief look at these criteria; in Section II we will consider the historicity of Jesus’ last words in Mark; and in Section III we will attempt to uncover the pre-Marcan tradition in Mark’s narrative, and then render some general historical judgments.

Application of the Criteria of Historicity to the Passion Narratives

The reader may wish to review the descriptions and examples of the criteria and techniques for determining the historicity of Gospel passages, which are summarized in Unit II-B, Section I. A brief description of three of these criteria will be given with particular examples from the passion narratives: (1) multiple attestation, (2) embarrassment, and (3) coherence with Jewish/Roman customs.

The reader will want to recall two caveats about assessment of historicity mentioned in Unit II-B, Section I. namely:

(a) Criteria for historicity can show the likelihood of a particular Gospel datum being historical, but the absence of criteria for historicity does not show the improbability of a particular Gospel datum being historical; the non-applicability of historical criteria shows only that we have no way of assessing historicity of a Gospel datum either positively or negatively. Thus, far more data in the passion narratives (and in the Gospels, for that matter) is historical than can ever be corroborated through historical criteria.

(b) Too rigorous an application of historical criteria can unnecessarily circumscribe corroboratable data from the Gospels. If one says, “The only data that I will accept as historical are those which are attested to by four out of five independent sources” (say, Mark, Q, special Luke, and John, leaving out only special Matthew), then one will limit oneself to very few Gospel data. If one goes even further, and requires four independent Gospel sources plus an external source (such as Tacitus and Josephus), the Gospel will be reduced to the non-interpolated statements of Tacitus and Josephus. Again, if one claims that multiple attestation is not enough – there must also be corroboration from another historical criterion (say, embarrassment or coherence to Jewish culture, etc.), then the field of acceptable data is correspondingly narrowed. The judicious use of historical criteria by mainstream exegetes such as Raymond Brown, N.T. Wright, and John P. Meier can avert unnecessary proscriptions of Gospel data, and lead to reasonable and responsible corroboration of a large range of Gospel data. We may now proceed to the three historical criteria.

1) Multiple Attestation. Recall that multiple attestation does not occur when there is repetition of passages among the three synoptic Gospels, but rather when there is repetition among the five independent sources (Mark, Q, special Matthew, special Luke, and John). Matthew and Luke relied upon and used the full text of Mark. Q is another source upon which Matthew and Luke both relied. There can be little doubt that Matthew and Luke borrowed heavily from Mark in their passion narratives, and so attestation among them is not significant. However, as will be discussed below, Mark and John were written independently of each other, and it is quite likely that neither one had any knowledge of the other’s narrative. Nevertheless, there are no less than thirty-two similarities between the two narratives. If John is truly not dependent on Mark, then these similarities would auger very strongly for a pre-Marcan (and pre-Johannine) passion tradition(s) upon which both Evangelists relied. This pre-Marcan tradition(s) would bring us closer to eyewitness accounts of the passion and therefore to Jesus’ passion itself.

How can we be so sure that John was not directly reliant on Mark’s narrative? In virtually every part of the Gospel except the multiplication of the loaves, the walking on water, and the passion narratives, John’s material is so distinct from Mark that it is difficult to believe that John relied on Mark unless he wanted to separate himself from, or complement Mark. Most scholars in the latter half of the twentieth century do not believe that there is Johannine dependence on Mark.

But what about Johannine dependence on the Marcan passion narrative? As can be seen from the table above, there are so many similarities between Mark and John that the possibility of dependence must be considered. There are two significant factors militating against the dependence conjecture. First, despite the many similarities, there are many more dissimilarities in content and order between the two passion narratives. Secondly, many of the differences between Mark and John are inexplicable, if not illogical if John truly depended on Mark. Why would John have put his narrative into a more scattered and strangely ordered state than Mark’s if he depended on Mark? (A love of disorder?) Why would he have omitted details in Mark which would have been of interest to him (e.g., the kiss of Judas; mention of Simon of Cyrene; the sixth and ninth hour when darkness came over the land; the derision by the crowds at the cross; the confusion regarding Elijah – even though this may have been elicited by Jesus’ last words in Mark, which are not mentioned in John; omission of three of Mark’s women witnesses – Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome, as well as “other women” in Mark, versus Mary the mother of Jesus, and His mother’s sister, and Mary the wife of Clopas in John). These omissions and reorderings make little sense if John truly depended on Mark. For this reason, Brown concludes:

Throughout the commentary I shall come again and again to what I regard as a completely illogical result if John knew Mark. For that reason I shall work with the thesis that John wrote his passion narrative independently of Mark’s.

So what is the likely scenario for the Marcan and Johannine passion narratives’ development? Brown believes that this occurred in five stages:

a) Eyewitnesses. See the rationale for these eyewitness accounts given above in Section I.A.

b) A basic catechetical outline. A basic sequence of major events was formulated soon after the events of the passion connecting the Last Supper to the arrest, then to the condemnation, then to the crucifixion, then to the burial. This sequence guided the Church’s early proclamations and catechesis as well as Eucharistic memories. This is evident from Pauline and other non-Gospel New Testament writings.

c) Pre-Gospel traditions. Widely circulated stories/traditions (probably both oral and written) were formed from eyewitness accounts about particular figures and incidents in the passion narratives (alongside the basic catechetical outline). The stories were not yet connected to the basic catechetical outline to form a narrative tradition.

d) Pre-Marcan/pre-Johannine traditions. The stories and basic outline made their way toward the Marcan and Johannine communities where eventually a pre-Marcan author(s) connected many of the stories to the basic catechetical outline to form a narrative tradition.

e) The Marcan and Johannine passion narratives. The two Evangelists used two versions of the pre-Marcan tradition along with additional pre-Gospel traditions to formulate the passion narratives we have today.

It is likely that much of the “witnessable” data in the thirty-two common elements in the Marcan and Johannine narratives made their way from eyewitnesses into the pre-Gospel traditions, and then into the pre-Marcan/pre-Johannine tradition(s), and then into the Gospel narratives. This would include:

Judas as betrayer bringing soldiers with weapons; Jesus being seized; the high priest’s servant’s ear being cut off; Jesus’ exchange with His apprehenders; Jesus being subjected to a Jewish judicial inquest; Peter’s three denials; the high priest’s maid as first inquirer; Peter warming himself by the fire in the high priest’s courtyard; the bystanders as inquirers in the third denial; the Jewish authorities making accusations against Jesus to Pilate; the crowd asking for the release of Barabbas; Pilate not finding Jesus guilty of a crime; the crowds responding multiple times “Crucify Him”; Pilate having Jesus scourged; Pilate handing Jesus over to be crucified, Jesus being crowned with thorns; Jesus proceeding to Golgotha with a cross, the crucifixion of Jesus; an inscription reading “King of the Jews”; the soldiers dividing Jesus’ garments and casting lots for them; two criminals being crucified with Jesus, one on either side of Him; Mary Magdalene witnessing the crucifixion; the soldiers giving a vinegar-filled sponge to Jesus on the cross; Joseph of Arimathea obtaining permission to bury Jesus; and Joseph of Arimathea wrapping the body of Jesus in a linen cloth, and putting Him in a tomb.

Some of these conclusions (as well as others) are corroborated by three other historical criteria which will be discussed in the forthcoming subsections.

(2) Embarrassment. Recall from Unit II-B, Section I., that if a particular Gospel datum was embarrassing to the Church, or undermined the reputation of the apostles, or cast dispersions upon Jesus, then we can be quite certain that the Evangelists (and the formulators of early traditions) did not invent it. Raymond Brown points to several such data in the passion narratives, for example: Judas (one of the Twelve apostles) betraying Jesus; many of the disciples not remaining with Jesus during the passion; and Peter denying Jesus three times. There are other data which are embarrassing, but may have been recounted for other reasons. For example, Jesus praying in the garden, “Remove this cup from me” (Mark 14:36), which looks like Jesus is trying to avoid the cross. Although this could not have been catechetically appealing, someone could conjecture that this passage is meant “to teach Christians that facing death constitutes a trial that may challenge even sincere commitment.” Nevertheless, the datum is still catechetically unappealing, and would have been very risky for the Evangelist or early Church to have invented.

The same holds true for Jesus’ last words in the Gospel of Mark: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” As will be discussed below (Section II), the last words of Jesus do not enjoy multiple attestation because John does not recount them (and places a completely different phrase on the lips of Jesus – “It is finished”). Many scholars believe, however, that this datum is historical because it would have likely been misinterpreted by gentile audiences who might not have known that the phrase (“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”) refers to the whole of Psalm 22 (a Psalm of God redeeming the sufferings of the just one and bringing salvation through it to all nations and generations). Gentile audiences would have been likely to believe that Jesus was so demoralized that He lost His confidence in God and thought that God was forsaking Him. This misinterpretation would not only have been embarrassing to the Church, but would have led to a theology precisely contrary to what Jesus intended and to what the Church taught. It is difficult to believe that Mark would have invented this phrase as Jesus’ last words, and much more likely that John (like Luke), if he was aware of the phrase from a pre-Johannine tradition, would have dropped it since he was writing for a gentile audience that could have easily misinterpreted it.

(3) Coherence with Jewish/Roman customs. There are three elements which are relevant here: (a) coherence with Jewish customs, (b) Semitisms, and (c) coherence with Roman customs. The last area is somewhat complex and not especially germane to the point of this Unit; so I will limit discussion to the first two areas.

(a) Correspondence with Jewish custom. One major point bears mentioning, because it shows Mark’s fidelity to the Jewish customs which would have been in effect at the time of Jesus’ passion, namely, Mark’s careful recounting of how the Sanhedrin adhered to the Mishna only when it was in conformity to the Sadducee law. Blinzler notes in this regard:

The fact that Mk 14 and 15 juxtapose items which sometimes agree and sometimes disagree with the requirements of the Mishnah was hitherto felt puzzling. The explanation is that the Sanhedrin was at that time bound by the Sadducee law, which agreed with the Mishnah only exceptionally. But if Mk 14 and 15 were a legendary construction, it would be hard to explain how the author, supposedly so uninterested in historical fact, managed to be so accurate with regard to the legal custom: to the unlikely extent, that is, that the actions of the Sanhedrin only agreed with the Mishnah when the provisions of the latter coincided with those of the Sadducees, and not otherwise.

(b) Semitisms. There is one truly remarkable Semitism recorded in the Marcan narrative, namely, Jesus’ final words: “Elōi, Elōi, lama sabachthani.” The Marcan version of the final words is to be preferred over the Matthean one, because it is probable that Matthew tried to “clean up” Mark’s Aramaic citation of the divine name (“Elōi”) with the more proper Hebrew version of it (“’Ēlî”), which would have been recited in the synagogue. The fact that Matthew records the Aramaic “sabachthani” (instead of the more appropriate Hebrew ăzabtānî) convinces most scholars that Matthew retained remnants of an original Aramaic version.

Is Mark’s Aramaic version of Jesus’ final words truly Jesus’ words? It seems likely because much of Mark’s mixed gentile-Jewish audience would not have recognized either the Hebrew or Aramaic versions of the Psalm, which evidently compelled Mark to translate it into Greek. Why would Mark have recorded an Aramaic version of Jesus’ final words which most of his audience would not have understood? Why not simply give the Greek translation without the Aramaic? Furthermore, why give an Aramaic translation of the Psalms instead of the more proper and easily recognizable Hebrew version? The fact that Jesus may well have learned the Psalms in Aramaic and recited the Psalms in Aramaic to His Galilean audience may provide a clue to the origin of the Aramaic version of the Psalm – namely, Jesus Himself. The application of other historical criteria to this question will further confirm the origin of these words in Jesus. This will be considered in the following section.

The Final Words of Jesus

Given that Mark’s version of Jesus’ final words is more original than Matthew’s version, we may now return to the question of whether Mark’s version is historical. Though the Aramaic rendition of the final words is a clue to their origin in Jesus, it is not definitive because Luke gives a different version of the final words (“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” – Luke 23:46), and so does John (“It is finished” – John 19:30). Why should Mark be preferred to Luke and John?

With respect to Luke’s version of the final words, there are four reasons to suspect that Mark’s version is closer to Jesus’ own. First, Luke was aware of Mark’s version of the final words, and would have had to have intentionally changed them. Secondly, Luke prefers to shift the focus from Jesus’ feelings of desolation to Jesus’ trust. Instead of Psalm 22:2 (“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”), Luke portrays Jesus reciting Psalm 31:6 (“Into your hands I commend my spirit”), which effects this shift in focus. Luke’s preference to portray Jesus as confident (and eliminate any hint of spiritual disturbance) is evidenced in his elimination of Mark’s portrayal of Jesus’ anxiety in the garden of Gethsemane (“My soul is very sorrowful unto death”). It is much easier to believe that Luke has continued his redactional policy of eliminating Marcan references to Jesus’ anxiety than to believe that Luke’s version of Jesus’ words is more original. Thirdly, Luke substitutes “Father” for the Psalmist’s reference to “God,” which is very likely a redaction. Finally, Luke selects a Psalm passage which speaks to Jesus’ Spirit, which is a clear focus of his Gospel and an allusion to the Holy Spirit, which is the focus of the Acts of the Apostles. For this reason, most scholars believe that the Lukan version is a redaction of the Marcan original.

What about John’s version of the last words (“It is finished”)? Unlike Luke, John was not aware of the Marcan passion narrative, yet there is significant evidence that Mark and John borrowed from a common pre-Marcan (and pre-Johannine) tradition (see above, Section I.B.1). Does John’s very different version of Jesus’ final words imply that the pre-Marcan/pre-Johannine tradition did not have any version of Jesus’ final words (and that both Mark and John invented their own in the absence of a more original version)? The answer is probably ‘no,’ because of light shed upon the question by the historical criterion of embarrassment.

Recall from Section I.B.2 that John’s predominately gentile audience could have misinterpreted Jesus’ last words as recorded by Mark. Indeed, as we just saw, Luke certainly thought this was a possibility for his gentile audience. The majority of John’s audience would probably not have recognized Psalm 22 in the Aramaic expression, “Elōi, Elōi, lama sabachthani,” and they would not have known that this first line referred to the entire Psalm. Therefore, they would not have known that Jesus’ last words were a prayer of trust in God which would lead not only to the vindication of His suffering, but to universal salvation for all humankind for all time (see below in this section). Thus (as the Johannine author very probably perceived), they would have interpreted these words to mean that Jesus felt abandoned by the Father, which is precisely the opposite of what the Psalm intends, what the early Church believed, and what Jesus intended. Not only would this have been confusing and misleading to gentile members of the early Church; it would have been apologetically unappealing and embarrassing to the Church in gentile regions. Thus, John, like Luke, would have had everything to lose (and nothing to gain) by retaining these words on the lips of the dying Jesus.

Therefore, there is considerable reason to believe prima facie that John, like Luke, would have been inclined to change Jesus’ dying words from those of Psalm 22 to something less misleading and more consistent with Jesus’ intention and the belief of the early Church. He decides upon the simple phrase, “It is finished,” which refers to Jesus’ project of redemption, the completion of which John has been pointing to throughout the “Book of Glory” (chapters 13-21).

This leads to the obvious question of why Mark (who was addressing a mixed gentile-Jewish audience) would have retained Psalm 22 as Jesus’ final words when many of his audience members would have been likely to misinterpret them in the same way as John’s and Luke’s audiences. Before responding, it is worth noting that this question does not apply to Matthew with the same force as Mark because the majority of Matthew’s audience was Jewish. Many in that audience would have been educated enough to see Psalm 22 through Matthew’s Hebraic version of it, and many would have understood that the first line of the Psalm referred to the whole Psalm. Brown points to a well-known hermeneutical principle in this regard:

…a NT citation of a specific OT passage supposes that the readers will be familiar with the context of that passage and so understand implied references to that context.

In the case of Psalm 22, the context speaks of trust in God, vindication, and salvation for the world.

However, the above hermeneutical principle would not have applied to the gentile members of Mark’s audience; so why did he retain these words? I think there is only one plausible explanation – namely, that they are in fact the final words of Jesus. It would be inconceivable to suggest that Mark invented these words to place on the lips of Jesus given the probability of their misinterpretation (with significant negative consequences) by a large segment of his audience. Therefore, it seems likely that Mark received these words from either a pre-Marcan tradition or from Peter (for whom Mark was interpreter). In either case, Mark must have believed that these words were truly those of Jesus, and decided to retain them in their Aramaic form precisely for this reason. There does not appear to be any other reasonable motive for his taking the risk of significant misinterpretation and apologetically unappealing embarrassment.

So if we consider “Elōi, Elōi, lama sabachthani” to be the dying words of the historical Jesus, and if we apply Brown’s hermeneutical principle to Jesus Himself (implying that Jesus expected informed listeners to “be familiar with the context of that passage and so understand implied references to that context”), then it seems likely that the dying Jesus was praying the whole of Psalm 22 to His Father while giving His listeners an insight into how He interpreted His sacrificial death through that prayer. Mally notes in this regard:

As a quotation of an OT Ps, it can hardly be taken literally as an expression of real despair or dereliction. Rather, Jesus applies to himself an OT passage that sums up the suffering of the upright individual who turns to his God in the stress of hostile opposition and its ensuing depression. In using the Ps, Jesus does not express the feeling that his life’s work has failed and that God has therefore abandoned him; he identifies himself with a biblical precedent, the persecuted upright man who has trusted in Yahweh, and found in him the source of his consolation and ultimate triumph [italics mine].

Thus, Jesus’ reference to Psalm 22 is an expression of trust and confidence in the Father that His suffering will result in the triumph of His mission. As noted in the previous Unit, that mission is actualized for all future generations through the gift of His presence and unconditional redeeming Love in the Eucharist.

A closer look at the Psalm may give a deep insight into the panoply of Jesus’ thoughts and feelings at the time of His crucifixion. The Psalm may be divided into three parts:

(1) “2-22, the complaint, with repeated requests, descriptions of suffering, and expressions of confidence (4-6; 10-11),”

(2) “23-32, thanksgiving, in which the community is invited to share (23-27),” and

(3) the worldwide redemption and worship of Yahweh (28-32).

Each part will be presented in turn.

(1) Complaint, repeated requests, descriptions of suffering, and expressions of confidence.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Why are you so far from saving me,

so far from the words of my groaning?

Oh my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer,

and by night, but I have no rest.

Then, the psalmist shifts perspective as he does several times throughout the Psalm, and introduces the theme of God’s holiness and grandeur, worthy of praise and trust:

Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One;

you are the praise of Israel.

In you our fathers put their trust;

they trusted and you delivered them.

They cried to you and were saved;

in you they trusted and were not disappointed.

The psalmist then turns back to the deplorable nature of his condition:

But I am a worm and not a man,

scorned by men and despised by the people.

All who see me mock me;

they hurl insults, shaking their heads:

“He trusted in the Lord;

let the Lord rescue him.

Let Him deliver him

since He delights in him."

The uncanny resemblance between the psalmist’s words and the events taking place around Jesus give one pause. After describing the inauthentic words of the crowd (who believe that the Lord will not fulfill the trust of the psalmist), the psalmist shifts back to his fervent trust in the Lord:

Yet you brought me out of the womb;

you made me trust in you;

even at my mother’s breast.

From birth I was cast upon you;

from my mother’s womb you have been my God.

Having renewed his trust in the Lord, the psalmist makes an earnest petition for help:

Do not be far from me,

for trouble is near

and there is no one to help.

Many bulls surround me; strong bulls of Bashan encircle me.

Roaring lions tearing their prey

open their mouths wide against me.

Then the psalmist uses the same words seen in the suffering servant song (Is 52:13-53:12) and Jesus’ eucharistic words:

I am poured out like water,

and all my bones are out of joint.

My heart has turned to wax;

it has melted away within me.

My strength is dried up like a potsherd,

and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth;

you lay me in the dust of death.

In continuing his description of his suffering to Yahweh, the psalmist again describes events uncannily similar to Jesus’ crucifixion:

Dogs have surrounded me;

a band of evil men has encircled me,

they have pierced my hands and my feet.

I can count all my bones;

people stare and gloat over me.

They divide my garments among them

and cast lots for my clothing.

The psalmist makes another earnest petition for God’s help and consolation:

But you, oh Lord, be not far off;

oh my Strength, come quickly to help me.

Deliver my life from the sword,

my precious life from the power of the dogs.

Rescue me from the mouth of the lion;

save me from the horns of the wild oxen.

(2) Thanksgiving, in which the community is invited to share. The psalmist then reaffirms his trust and confidence in the Lord, as if to say that he will live beyond his current persecution to bring the praise of the Lord’s name to all who fear him:

I will declare your name to my brothers;

in the congregation I will praise you.

You who fear the Lord, praise him!

All you descendents of Jacob, honor him!

Revere him, all you descendents of Israel!

The psalmist then gives his reason for his confidence in God, and his belief in his future:

For he has not despised or disdained

the suffering of the afflicted one;

he has not hidden his face from him

but has listened to his cry for help.

From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly;

before those who fear you I will fulfill my vows.

The psalmist then moves into a prophetic, and even messianic tone, speaking of signs of the new Jerusalem; messianic signs which Jesus says, when quoting the prophet Isaiah, are being fulfilled in Himself:

The poor will eat and be satisfied;

they who seek the Lord will praise Him –

may your hearts live forever.

(3) The worldwide redemption and worship of Yahweh. The psalmist then confidently suggests universality of salvation arising out of Yahweh’s mercy:

All the ends of the earth

will remember and turn to the Lord,

and all the families of the nations

will bow down before Him,

for dominion belongs to the Lord

and He rules over the nations.

The psalmist then suggests that Yahweh’s salvation will extend to all those who are raised on high, and those who are in the grave:

All the rich of the earth will feast and worship;

all who go down to the dust will kneel before Him –

those who cannot keep themselves alive.

Posterity will serve Him;

future generations will be told about the Lord.

They will proclaim His righteousness

to a people yet unborn –

for He has done it.

This Psalm on the dying lips of Jesus is quite remarkable. In the midst of recounting events quite similar to His crucifixion, the Psalm expresses His mind and heart as He cries out for help, as He is overwhelmingly confident in that help, and as He sees the ultimate result of that help in a salvation that will not only reach to the ends of the earth, but to all future generations on the earth, and even to those who are raised on high and those who “go down to the dust.” Thus, the Psalm connects Jesus’ torment with His confidence in the Father as He looks beyond His suffering, beyond Jerusalem, beyond the present age, and beyond earthly existence, to a redemption which will take hold in the life of God Himself. Jesus’ eucharistic words are not only consonant with those of the psalm, they give the psalm’s words ultimate meaning and reality; for they provide the vehicle through which Jesus’ person and love will save universally and eternally.

The Passion of Jesus in Mark and in Pre-Marcan Tradition (14:32-15:37)

Mark gives us the oldest account of the passion. Though it tries to reconcile the passion with Old Testament prophesy, its primary objective is not apologetical. Rather, it intends to give an account of the sufferings freely endured by Jesus and “to show clearly what persons and what authorities were responsible for the death of Jesus and the extent of their guilt.” Mark believes that this is Jesus’ central salvific act and uses it to frame the rest of his Gospel. As Blinzler notes:

Mark already had before him such a relatively fixed account from oral tradition, as the insertion of 14:3-9 shows, and he enlarged it with further matter, e.g., with “memoirs” of Peter (apart from 14:3-9) such as the account of the denial (14:54, 66-72). …[T]he Gospel of Mark has been called, not unjustly, “a passion-narrative with a long introduction” (M. Kähler).

As noted above, there is substantial New Testament and extra-testamental evidence for the historicity of Jesus’ arrest, trial, and crucifixion. Many other facts surrounding the crucifixion are also very probably historical. By using the criteria and techniques elucidated above (Sections I.A and B), we can first ascertain what material from Mark’s passion narrative probably came from a pre-Marcan tradition, and the material from that tradition which could have come from eyewitness accounts. Scholars have worked diligently on these tasks for over a century, and it is beyond the scope of this study to report comprehensively on their findings. My objective is only to give a report about where the preponderance of scholarly opinion lies with regard to an early pre-Marcan tradition and the historicity of the facts within that tradition.

There is a strong likelihood that Mark made recourse to a pre-Marcan tradition(s) which he redacted and stylized to give coherence and meaning to this exceedingly significant event for the Christian Church. There is a wide variety of opinion about which verses originated with this pre-Marcan tradition(s) and which ones originated with Mark. Marion Soards has gathered a tremendous amount of data from 34 scholars representing a wide range of theological and exegetical perspectives. I have taken the liberty of presenting the Revised Standard Version of the Marcan passion narrative, and indicating the likelihood that each of its verses originated with a pre-Marcan tradition or with Mark himself according to the following key:

Bold A large majority of scholars believe that this verse originated with a pre-Marcan tradition.

Italics A small majority of scholars believe that this verse originated with a pre-Marcan tradition.

Underline The scholarly community is about evenly split on whether this verse originated with a pre-Marcan tradition, or with Mark himself.

Normal font The majority of the scholarly community believes that this verse originated with Mark (and is therefore a Marcan redaction).

Mark Chapter 14

32 They went to a place which was called Gethsemane; and He said to His disciples, “Sit here, while I pray.” 33 And He took with Him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled. 34 And He said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch.” 35 And going a little farther, He fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from Him. 36 And He said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible to Thee; remove this cup from me; yet not what I will, but what Thou wilt.” And He came and found them sleeping, and He said to Peter, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour? 38 Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” 39 And again He went away and prayed, saying the same words. 40 And again He came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy; and they did not know what to answer Him. 41 And He came the third time, and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? It is enough; the hour has come; the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. 42 Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand.”

43 And immediately, while He was still speaking Judas came, one of the twelve, and with him a crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and the scribes and the elders. Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, “The one I shall kiss is the man; seize Him and lead Him away safely.” And when he came, he went up to Him at once, and said, “Master!” And he kissed Him. And they laid hands on Him. But one of those who stood by drew his sword, and struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his ear. And Jesus said to them, “Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs to capture me? Day after day I was with you in the temple teaching, and you did not seize me. But let the scriptures be fulfilled.” And they all forsook Him, and fled.

51 And a young man followed Him, with nothing but a linen cloth about his body; and they seized him, but he left the linen cloth and ran away naked.

53 And they led Jesus to the high priest; and all the chief priests and the elders and the scribes were assembled. And Peter had followed Him at a distance, right into the courtyard of the high priest; and he was sitting with the guards, and warming himself at the fire. 55 Now the chief priests and the whole council sought testimony against Jesus to put Him to death; but they found none. 56 For many bore false witness against Him, and their witness did not agree. 57 And some stood up and bore false witness against Him, saying, “We heard Him say, ‘I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another, not made with hands.’” Yet not even so did their testimony agree. And the high priest stood up in the midst, and asked Jesus, “Have you no answer to make? What is it that these men testify against you? 61 But He was silent and made no answer. Again the high priest asked Him, “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?” 62 And Jesus said, “I am; and you will see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of Power, and coming with the clouds of heaven.”Note 63 And the high priest tore his mantle, and said, “Why do we still need witnesses? You have heard His blasphemy. What is your decision?” And they all condemned Him as deserving death. 65 And some began to spit on Him, and to cover His face, and to strike Him, saying to Him, “Prophesy!” And the guards received Him with blows.

66 And as Peter was below in the courtyard, one of the maids of the high priest came; 67 and seeing Peter warming himself, she looked at him, and said, “You also were with the Nazarene, Jesus.” But he denied it, saying, “I neither know nor understand what you mean.” And he went out into the gateway. 69 And the maid saw him, and began again to say to the bystanders, “This man is one of them.” 70 But again he denied it. And after a little while again the bystanders said to Peter, “Certainly you are one of them; for you are a Galilean.” 71 But he began to invoke a curse on himself and to swear, “I do not know this man of whom you speak.” 72 And immediately the cock crowed a second time. And Peter remembered how Jesus had said to him, “Before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.” And he broke down and wept.

Mark Chapter 15

1 And as soon as it was morning the chief priests, with the elders and scribes, and the whole council held a consultation; and they bound Jesus and led Him away and delivered Him to Pilate. And Pilate asked Him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” And He answered him “You have said so.” And the chief priests accused Him of many things. And Pilate again asked Him, “Have you no answer to make? See how many charges they bring against you.” But Jesus made no further answer, so that Pilate wondered.

Now at the feast he used to release for them any one prisoner whom they asked. And among the rebels in prison, who had committed murder in the insurrection, there was a man called Barabbas. And the crowd came up and began to ask Pilate to do as he was wont to do for them. And he answered them, “Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” For he perceived that it was out of envy that the chief priests had delivered Him up. But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have him release for them Barabbas instead. And Pilate again said to them, “Then what shall I do with the man whom you call the King of the Jews?” And they cried out again, “Crucify Him.” And Pilate said to them, “Why, what evil has He done?” But they shouted all the more, “Crucify Him.” So, Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released for them Barabbas; and having scourged Jesus, he delivered Him to be crucified.

And the soldiers led Him away inside the palace (that is, the praetorium); and they called together the whole battalion. And they clothed Him in a purple cloak, and placing a crown of thorns they put it on Him. And they began to salute Him, “Hail, King of the Jews!” And they struck His head with a reed, and spat upon Him, and they knelt down in homage to Him. And when they had mocked Him, they stripped Him of the purple cloak, and put His own clothes on Him. And they led Him out to crucify Him.

And they compelled a passer-by, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to carry His cross. And they brought Him to the place called Golgotha (which means the place of a skull). And they offered Him wine mingled with myrrh; but He did not take it. And they crucified Him, and divided His garments among them, casting lots for them, to decide what each should take. And it was the third hour, when they crucified Him. And the inscription of the charge against Him read, “The King of the Jews.” And with Him they crucified two robbers, one on His right and one on His left. And those who passed by derided Him, wagging their heads, and saying, “Aha! You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!” 31 So also the chief priests mocked Him to one another with the scribes, saying, “He saved others; He cannot save Himself. 32 Let the Christ, the King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe.” Those who were crucified with Him also reviled Him.

And when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Elōi, Elōi, lama sabachthani.” Which means, “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” And some of the bystanders hearing it said, “Behold, He is calling Elijah.” And one ran and, filling a sponge full of vinegar, put it on a reed and gave it to Him to drink, saying, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to take Him down.” And Jesus uttered a loud cry, and breathed His last.

38 And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And when the centurion, who stood facing Him, saw that He thus breathed His last, he said, “Truly this man was the son of God!”

There were also women looking on from afar, among whom were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome, 41 who, when He was in Galilee, followed Him, and ministered to Him; and also many other women who came up with Him to Jerusalem.

42 And when evening had come, since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, 43 Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the council, who was also himself looking for the kingdom of God, took courage and went to Pilate, and asked for the body of Jesus. 44 And Pilate wondered if He were already dead; and summoning the centurion, he asked him whether He was already dead. 45 And when he learned from the centurion that He was dead, he granted the body to Joseph. 46 And he bought a linen shroud, and taking Him down, wrapped Him in the linen shroud, and laid Him in a tomb which has been hewn out of the rock; and he rolled a stone against the door of the tomb. 47 Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where He was laid.

As can be seen from the above, most scholars consider the vast majority of the passion narrative to have come from a pre-Marcan tradition(s) which would presumably include some accounts from Peter. Notice that the probable Marcan redactions are not concerned with the torment, crucifixion, and death of Jesus. They are meant to explain who is primarily guilty (i.e., Judas, the chief priests, and the council), who is less culpable (i.e., Pilate), and who is ironically the prophetic spokesman of the meaning of the passion (i.e., the centurion). They also center on Mark’s interpretation of why Jesus was accused of blasphemy (i.e., identifying Himself with the eschatological Son of Man in Daniel 7:13-14). If these elements are “bracketed,” the passion story retains its poignant central core, which likely represents the traditions which Mark received as he prepared his narrative.

The question of whether the pre-Marcan tradition is faithful to accounts from eyewitnesses and earwitnesses is more difficult to ascertain. One cannot assume that a verse was witnessed simply because it was included in a pre-Marcan tradition. As was made clear in Section I.B, the pre-Marcan tradition relied on pre-Gospel traditions and stories, and had developments and accretions arising out of catechetical and pedagogical concerns. Nevertheless, it is likely that the pre-Marcan tradition(s) contained a considerable amount of “witnessable” and witnessed data for the reasons mentioned in Section I above – particularly as regards the betrayal by Judas, the arrest, a Jewish judicial inquest, Peter’s denials, the involvement of Pontius Pilate, the involvement of Jewish authorities in accusing Jesus, the release of Barabbas, the involvement of Roman soldiers, and facts surrounding the crucifixion (e.g., being scourged, being crowned with thorns, the vinegary wine, being hanged on a cross, the inscription on the cross, and the two other criminals). I would also include Jesus’ final words as recounted in Mark’s Gospel (for the reasons mentioned in the previous section), and the fact of Jesus’ burial (for the reasons mentioned in Chapter 4, Section II.B). A more detailed list of other “witnessable” data which is common to both the Marcan and Johannine traditions may be found above in Section I.B. Additional details about the historicity of particular verses in the pre-Marcan tradition(s) may be found in the “Analysis” sections following each major part of Raymond Brown’s The Death of the Messiah.

An appreciation of the significance of the passion, particularly as regards the central question of this book (i.e., “Is Jesus Emmanuel?”), cannot be attained through exegetical and historical analysis alone. Though this analysis is necessary in order to understand the meaning and reality of the events surrounding Jesus’ death, it almost blocks out the heart’s reasons to give greater clarity to the mind’s reasons. I can’t speak for you, the reader, but when I am applying criteria and techniques of historicity to particular texts, I am not being flooded with inspiration and love; and so I find it necessary to move to the domain of contemplation after I have satisfied myself about the historicity of the essential elements of Jesus’ passion. Contemplation allows one to be moved in the heart – to be struck with delight, or wonder, or amazement; to perceive beauty; to exalt; to be moved with gratitude; to feel awe and glory; to be inspired; to be moved by what is just and good and generous, and above all, to be moved by love – unconditional Love. Thus, contemplation is essential to the appreciation of Jesus’ passion, which is above all an act of incredible love.

Contemplation on the Passion

The passion narratives open upon a virtually limitless depth of love, which can best be gleaned through contemplation. As explained in the previous chapter, Jesus views His passion as the culmination of His mission, the concretization of His unconditional Love in history, and His gift of unconditional Love to the world for all eternity (through the Eucharist). The reader’s time will be well spent on considering His loving intention, attitude, and feeling in His gift of self in the events of the passion.

One successful method of entering into contemplation is recommended by Saint Ignatius of Loyola in his Spiritual Exercises. It entails entering into the scene, considering the personalities and dispositions of people in the scene, and focusing on the heart of Jesus manifest through the people and events in the scene.

In light of the above, one may want to use the following structure to contemplate on the passion. After reading a particular passage at least twice, first consider various physical aspects of the scene, then:

• the persons in the scene along with Jesus, then • Jesus’ attitude toward the people in the scene (recalling that Jesus’ attitudes are reflected in the beatitudes – humble-hearted, gentle-hearted, merciful, peacemaking, etc.), then • Jesus’ relationship to the Father (applying Psalm 22, the Suffering Servant song – Isaiah 52:13-53:12, and Jesus’ prayer in the Garden), then • Jesus’ universal salvific intent (applying the simile of the paschal lamb and the words “This is my body,” “the blood of the covenant,” “for all,” and “Do this in remembrance of me” – see Chapter 9, Section II.B), then • Jesus’ love for the people in the scene (including His persecutors), His love of the Father, and His love of humankind.

You might then look at Jesus’ acceptance of anguish for the sake of love. In light of this, you might consider Jesus’ love for you and others; His hopes and aspirations for you and for others. Accept that love, accept His wanting to be your paschal lamb, sin-offering (scapegoat), and blood of the covenant (to guarantee eternal life with Him and the Father); and then, express to God what you desire.

After you have completed your contemplation, you might want to ask the recurrent questions in this book: Would an unconditionally loving God do something like this for my sake and the sake of all? Is Jesus Christ His Emmanuel? If so, then the unconditional Love of God is real and has been fully actualized in the world. That unconditional Love is unconditional light in the darkness, unconditional hope amidst dejection, unconditional resurrection amidst the cross, and unconditional redemption amidst our sin. It is unconditional life unto unconditional joy in the unconditional love of the triune God.