Jesus: a new vision

by Marcus J. Borg

  Thus his movement and message were a call to a new way of life marked already by joy even while the shadows were lengthening on the social world of his day. Two paths lay before the people to whom Jesus spoke, the broad way of conventional wisdom and its loyalties, and the narrow way of transformation to an alternative way of being. The broad way led to destruction, the narrow way to life. The message of the two ways led Jesus, as prophet, sage, and renewal movement founder, to make his final and climactic journey to Jerusalem, the center of his people’s life.

  NOTES

  9. Jesus as Challenge: Jerusalem and Death

  In the spring of A.D. 30 at the season of Passover, Jesus deliberately “set his face to go to Jerusalem,” a resolve that led to his death.1 The miracle-worker who drew crowds, the teacher who challenged the conventional wisdom of his day and taught an alternative path of transformation, the prophet and revitalization movement founder who indicted his people’s corporate path, took his message and his itinerant group of followers to Jerusalem.

  Why did he make that final journey? Some have thought that he did so in order to die; that is, that his own death was the outcome he intended. Such is implied by the popular image of Jesus. As one whose purpose was to die for the sins of the world, he went to Jerusalem deliberately to offer his life as a sacrifice for sin, a position that has also occasionally been affirmed within the scholarly world.2 But, though many of the texts are filled with a foreboding that the likely result of his sojourn in Jerusalem would be death,3 the outcome was not the purpose of the journey.

  Rather, as the climax of his prophetic mission and call to renewal, he went there to make a final appeal to his people at the center of their national and religious life. As he journeyed there, he is reported to have said, “Can it be that a prophet should perish outside of Jerusalem?”4 Indeed, Jesus identified himself with that line of prophetic voices sent by God to gather the inhabitants of Jerusalem like a hen gathering her brood:

  O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not.5

  Jesus became one more of those “sent” to Jerusalem. At precisely the time of year when the city was most filled with Jewish pilgrims, when his people were most comprehensively represented at the center of their social world, he went there to issue the call to change.

  THE MESSAGE TO JERUSALEM

  The final week of Jesus’ life was filled with a series of dramatic actions, confrontations, and events, all flowing from his involvement in his people’s direction and future.

  The Approach to Jerusalem

  Luke movingly depicts Jesus’ concern about Jerusalem and the future of the nation in his portrait of Jesus and his followers arriving on the ridge of the Mount of Olives which overlooks Jerusalem from the east. There, we are told, Jesus looked out over the city and grieved for its inhabitants because of what he could see about their future and they could not: the threat of war, their city surrounded by enemies, then conquered and destroyed.

  The days shall come upon you, when your enemies will cast up a bank about you and surround you, and hem you in on every side, and dash you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave one stone upon another in you.

  Like Jeremiah before him, he wept about his people’s future, feeling the grief of God about what would happen because of their blindness. “Would that even today you knew the things that make for peace,” he exclaimed; “But they are hid from your eyes.”6 Not knowing the things that made for peace, they faced a future of destruction.

  The Entry into the City

  In the time of Jesus, Jerusalem had a population estimated between forty thousand and seventy thousand. The most Jewish of cities in first-century Palestine, it was also occupied by a garrison of Roman troops reinforced at the major festivals to cope with the throngs of Jewish pilgrims. Thus, at the season of Passover, Roman troops arrived at Jerusalem from the west in a procession led by the Roman governor, accompanied by all the trappings of imperial power.

  Jesus and his followers arrived from the east, possibly on the same day. As they entered the city, also in a procession, Jesus performed the first of two prophetic acts. According to the gospels he deliberately made arrangements to enter the city on a donkey’s colt, cheered by followers and sympathizers.7 The meaning of the act becomes clear when we realize that he was intentionally enacting a passage from the prophet Zechariah which spoke of a king of peace riding “on a colt, the foal of an ass.”8 He was not mechanically fulfilling a prophecy; rather, he chose a known symbol from his tradition in order to say that the kingdom of which he spoke was a kingdom of peace, not war.9 If the language is not too modern, his entry was a planned political demonstration, an appeal to Jerusalem to follow the path of peace, even as it proclaimed that his movement was the peace party in a generation headed for war. It also implied that the alternative of peace was still open.

  The Prophetic Act in the Temple

  Soon afterward, Jesus entered the temple area or “temple mount,” a large flat platform of about thirty-five acres.10 On it were various courts and buildings, including the main temple building (the sanctuary) itself. Relatively small, it (like most temples in the ancient world) was not really a public building but was understood as “the house of the god,” a residence for the divine.11 Public worship took place in the courts surrounding the sanctuary: the priests’ court, the court of Israel (for Jewish males only), and the court of the women. Beyond these courts were other courts, including one where sacrificial animals were sold and the image-bearing coins of pilgrims were exchanged for “holy” coins, that is, coins without images. Access to the temple area was strictly limited for Gentiles, who were not permitted beyond a certain point under penalty of death.12

  It was in one of these outer courts that Jesus performed a second and even more dramatic prophetic act. In what has been called his “greatest public deed,”13 he expelled the moneychangers and sellers of sacrificial birds. It was a provocative action and must have created somewhat of a stir if not an uproar. Yet also quite clearly it was not intended as a takeover or occupation of the temple area.14 Had it been so, it is inexplicable why the Romans, whose garrison overlooked the temple courts, did not immediately intervene. Rather, it was a prophetic act, limited in area, intent, and duration, done for the sake of the message it conveyed. As often with prophetic acts, the action was accompanied by a pronouncement which interpreted its meaning: “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’ ”15

  Both the action itself and the words of interpretation point to the act as an attack upon the politics of holiness and a warning of its consequences. The moneychangers and sellers of sacrificial birds were there in service of the ethos of holiness. The annual temple tax had to be paid in “holy” coinage, and not with “pagan” or “profane” coins bearing images. Similarly, the merchants sold sacrificial birds to pilgrims who could not be expected to carry ritually pure sacrifices tens or even hundreds of miles. The activity of these “ecclesiastical merchants” manifested the clear-cut distinction between sacred and profane, pure and impure, holy nation and impure nation, that marked the ethos and politics of holiness. They were servants of the sacred order of separation.

  In his words of interpretation, Jesus quoted two passages from the prophets. The first stated the purpose of the temple: “My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations.”16 Here, as most often in Scripture, nations means “Gentiles.” The purpose of the temple, Jesus said, was universal. It was not to be the private possession of a particular group, not even of the holy people. The second quote stated what the temple had become: “You have made it a den of violent ones.” The common translation, “den of robbers,” obscures the meaning, as if the issue were dishonest business practices or the gouging of pilgrims.17 Rather, the phras
e quotes Jeremiah; there “violent ones” referred to those who believed that the temple provided security in spite of their violations of the covenant.18

  We should probably not be too precise about the meaning of “den of violent ones” as part of Jesus’ pronouncement. The phrase could have pointed to the temple as the scene of actual violence between the Romans and Jews, which it had sometimes been, or to the temple’s role in the ideology of resistance, or to the temper of the time. In any case, having become a “den of violent ones,” the temple now faced the same threat as in Jeremiah’s generation: destruction. Jesus’ act was both a threat and an indictment. Because the temple had become a center of violence, it faced judgment.19 The act challenged the politics of holiness, even as it was also an invitation to another way.

  The last week of Jesus’ life thus began with two dramatic actions which carried his message of indictment, threat, and call to change to Jerusalem itself. Both were bold actions. To ride into Jerusalem at the head of a procession on an animal which symbolized kingship (even if of a rather strange kind) could not help but excite the curiosity of many and the attention of those charged with keeping order. The prophetic act in the temple was even more provocative. Indeed, immediately afterward some of the temple leadership came to Jesus and interrogated him, “By what authority are you doing these things?” Though he avoided giving a direct answer and made his interrogators look a bit foolish, implicitly his answer was, “From the Spirit.”20 The answer, however, did not deter them; according to Mark, it was the act in the temple that led the authorities to take action against him.21 It took a few days to work out the details.

  Conflict and Opposition

  During those days, according to the gospels, Jesus continued his mission at the center of the Jewish social world.22 He taught regularly in the courtyards of the temple, public places in the open air accessible to large numbers of people. Not only were there thousands of pilgrims there for Passover, but the temple mount and its courtyards were a public thoroughfare for traveling from one part of the city to another. We may imagine sympathizers gathered around him as he taught, while curious bystanders came and went.

  Critics and opponents also appeared, engaging him in questioning. In his temple debates, he is portrayed as in conflict with the other major religious options of his day: the devout Pharisees, the aristocratic Sadduccees, and, with his answer to the question about tribute to Caesar, with the resistance movement.23 He indicted the rich (perhaps more visible in Jerusalem with its urban aristocracy than in the villages of the countryside), especially those who justified their acts of acquisition with religious legitimation, the experts in the law who “devoured widows’ houses.”24

  To the leaders of the people, he told the story of a lord who had let out a vineyard to tenants, and who had repeatedly sent messengers to gather the fruit of the vineyard, only to have the messengers mistreated and rejected. What would the owner of such a vineyard do?25 The implication could not have been missed, even if it was not accepted: it was an indictment of Israel’s leadership, the ruling elites responsible for her current state. It also was a warning. Finally, not surprisingly, he continued to speak explicitly of Jerusalem’s impending destruction.26

  Thus, in his last week in Jerusalem, Jesus was primarily a prophet and radical teacher calling his people to change. No healings are reported, either because there were none, or because the evangelists thought more such stories were unnecessary. In any case, his “mighty deeds” were apparently not central to his Jerusalem ministry. Rather, as the voice of an alternative consciousness, he called the enculturated consciousness of the day to return to God, even as it became more apparent that the outcome would be his death.

  As the week drew on, he arranged to eat what turned out to be a final meal with his followers. According to the gospels, during the meal he spoke of his impending death as the seal of the “new covenant” spoken of by Jeremiah, a covenant written on the heart and not in external laws.27 Afterwards, in the night, he and his followers left the city and went into the valley of the Kidron just east of the city walls, to a garden called Gethsemane, and there he was arrested. He had been betrayed by one of his own.28

  THE DEATH OF JESUS

  The stories of Jesus’ death are probably the earliest portion of the gospels to be put into narrative form. Though they differ somewhat in their details, they share a basic plot line. Jesus was arrested by Jewish authorities and tried before a Jewish court, where the issue was blasphemy. Finding him guilty, they then took him to the Roman governor Pilate, who initially found no fault in him; however, the Jewish leaders cajoled the reluctant Pilate into pronouncing the death sentence. Taken away to the place of execution, beaten and stripped, Jesus was crucified between two members of the resistance movement on the Roman charge of “treason.”

  Yet though the stories of Jesus’ death took shape very early, they have also been affected by the faith of the church to such a degree that it is difficult to separate historical happening from theological interpretation. For the early church, looking back on the death of Jesus in the light of what happened afterward, it seemed clear that his death was foreordained, part of the “plan of God” from the beginning. For them, the death of Jesus was the death of the righteous sufferer, of the Servant of God who gave his life for the many, of God’s only son who had been sent into the world for this purpose. Accordingly, the accounts of his death were interwoven with echoes and citations of the Old Testament which helped to make the point.29

  Moreover, for the early Christians looking back on the story, the cause of Jesus’ death was ultimately the Jewish leadership’s refusal to recognize him as the Son of God. So the story of his “trial” before the Jewish high priest is told. Thus, despite the fact that Jesus’ mode of death reflects a Roman execution, the stories of his death emphasized Jewish responsibility. Indeed, this emphasis led to a progressive shifting of responsibility from the Romans to the Jews, a tendency perhaps intensified by the early church’s concern to claim that they were not a rebellious group within the empire, despite their founder’s having been executed by the Romans as a rebel.30 Nevertheless, granted that the passion narratives cannot be treated as straightforward historical accounts, we can in broad outline construct a reasonably probable historical scenario.31

  To begin with what is most certain, both the mode of execution and the charge posted on the cross (“King of the Jews”—that is, a king rival to Caesar) indicate that he was sentenced to death by Pilate on the charge of treason or insurrection and executed by the Romans. The most certain fact about the historical Jesus is his execution as a political rebel. In one sense, he was not guilty; he was not a “Zealot” or Zealot-sympathizer, using “Zealot” here in its popular though inaccurate meaning. We have no reason to think of him as sympathetic to violent resistance against Rome and much to indicate exactly the opposite. Indeed, one may say that he died for a crime of which he was innocent, and of which many of his compatriots were guilty. In another sense, he was guilty, for he did not give his ultimate allegiance to Rome or to any other kingdom of the world.

  From what we know about Roman policy in Palestine and Pilate’s character in particular, it is completely conceivable that the Romans alone were responsible for the entire scenario of arrest, trial, and execution. Rome was chronically suspicious of indigenous movements within her occupied territories, and Palestine had a reputation for being more troublesome than most. Pilate himself was reputed to be ruthless; appointed by an anti-Semite, his ten years in office were particularly harsh.32 The portrait of him vacillating during the trial and finally giving in to the Jewish authorities is out of character. Though it may reflect actual history, it may equally be the product of the early church’s tendency to shift the blame away from Rome. Its effect is to say, “Rome found nothing wrong with this person.” But it is easy to imagine that Pilate would take action against a Jewish charismatic leader who had attracted a considerable following and become a major center of attention in Je
rusalem at the volatile season of Passover.

  Thus it is historically possible that Pilate and the Romans alone were involved. Yet it seems historically unlikely. In all probability, there was collaboration on the part of a small circle of Jewish leaders centered around the high priest. As the official religious leader of the community, the high priest also played a domestic political function. Appointed by Rome and accountable to the Roman governor, he was responsible for maintaining order in Palestine; upon his success at that task, his position depended. Caiaphas, the high priest at the time of Jesus, held his position for the unusually long period of eighteen years, including the entire ten years of Pilate’s governorship, suggesting that he was very good at working with the Romans.33 To assist him in his responsibility, the high priest appointed his own “privy council” who functioned as his political advisors, and who, like him, came from the aristocracy and high priestly families. The story of the “Jewish trial” of Jesus was probably a preliminary hearing before this “political Sanhedrin” rather than a formal trial before the religious council.34 It is likely that they were alarmed at Jesus’ dramatic actions that week in Jerusalem, took the steps which culminated in his arrest, and then handed him over to Pilate for trial as a political claimant.35