Gethsemane
The Passover meal ended, at that time, with the singing of the little Hallel, that is, Psalms 114(115)–118. Mark says that Jesus and his disciples went to the Mount of Olives after having sung the hymn (14:26). Even this rather minor observation, which seems almost an aside, shows that Jesus celebrated a Passover meal.
At the foot of the Mount of Olives, in a place called Gethsemane, Jesus was overcome with deep anxiety. “He began to be distressed and agitated” (Mark 14:33). Jesus sees death approaching, and he struggles with God in prayer: “Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want” (Mark 14:36). On the one hand this prayer depicts Jesus’ profound trust in his Father: the Aramaic abba is not attested as an address in the prayers of Judaism at that time. It is the trusting and loving address of children, but also of adult sons and daughters, to their father.2 So according to the text Jesus prays with childlike trust. On the other hand he struggles with God, because when he speaks of the “cup” he wants to have pass by him, that is biblical language. It is the cup of wrath and of desolation,3 in this case the cup of death. This makes it clear that Jesus is pleading not to have to die. We dare not detract from that, and it must not be drained of its significance. Jesus—according to the narrative—fell into deep fear. On the other hand, he places his life completely in his Father’s hand. It probably contributed to his fear and distress that the most trusted members of the group of the Twelve—Peter, James, and John—have left him alone in his time of crisis. They do not understand. They keep falling asleep.
Evidently the passion story has artistically united two things: on the one hand a precise recollection of what happened in Gethsemane, and on the other hand a theological interpretation of the event with the aid of biblical language. It will often be this way in the course of the passion story. A refined explication of how much language from the psalms and how much of the theology of the “suffering righteous one” has made its way into the passion narrative in no way proves that the early church freely invented these events on the basis of the Old Testament. The phenomenon should be interpreted otherwise: the passion story tells of real events, using biblical language, in order to make clear that what is happening here is history between God and God’s people, just as it had always been, again and again, in the history of Israel.
Something else must also be maintained: the scene in Gethsemane is fundamentally different from later depictions of early Christian martyrdoms, which lack the motifs of temptation and struggle in prayer. We must also keep clearly in mind that Celsus, the philosopher and critic of Christianity, mocked Jesus’ fear of death; the emperor Julian “the Apostate” found Jesus’ behavior “pitiful.”4 In the eyes of antiquity, heroes must behave differently. For biblical authors of both the Old and New Testaments, on the contrary, the depiction of such existential crises is not only possible5 but appropriate: that is how the righteous in Israel suffered, and that is how Jesus suffered.
Arrest
Immediately after Jesus’ struggle in prayer, an armed troop appears and seizes him. There is not the least reason to disqualify the arrest scene, as Mark describes it, as unhistorical. The Judas kiss in particular is often regarded by critical scholars as a legendary narrative motif. Against this we must say that the arrest takes place at night. Having made a number of failed attempts, as John’s gospel is aware (John 7:30, 32, 44; 10:39), Jesus’ opponents want to be absolutely sure of getting their hands on Jesus this time. That Jesus is not arrested in the daytime but in the depths of night must also be the result of anxiety over the many Galilean festival pilgrims in Jerusalem. The Passover night was the most opportune time to seize Jesus without being seen. Mark writes: “Immediately, while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, arrived; and with him there was a crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders” (Mark 14:43). This sounds like an improvised posse, if not a group paid to act against Jesus. Biblical translators would do better to speak of “nightsticks” than of “clubs.” That is what Mark means, and such a translation would make it clear that this is a police posse.
In addition to the regular temple guards, the Sanhedrin (the Council) apparently had at their disposal a larger police troop for keeping necessary order, making arrests, and guarding prisoners. This also makes it clear that this was an official arrest ordered by the Council and altogether part of the normal order of things. Because of the disciples, who we know were with Jesus at this time, a large number of armed men had been sent. It is possible that the posse was augmented by servants from the high-priestly families of Annas and Caiaphas (cf. Mark 14:47).
Apparently the disciples are surprised by Jesus’ sudden arrest. They abandon him and flee. Peter makes an attempt to stay close to the events: he lingers for a while in the court of Annas’s house,6 where he denies Jesus and then vanishes from the scene—at any rate, from the scene Mark describes.
Before Annas
Jesus is led across the Kidron valley into the city. According to the report in Mark’s gospel he was taken immediately to the house of the reigning high priest (that is, Caiaphas), where the Sanhedrin assembled for a night session to examine Jesus (Mark 14:53). The description in John’s gospel differs. According to the Fourth Evangelist, Jesus was first presented to the former high priest, Annas, subjected to a kind of “hearing” before him, and only then taken to the reigning high priest, Caiaphas (John 18:12-24). The Fourth Gospel then has no further description of a session of the Council; it is, however, indirectly indicated by the fact that Jesus is sent to Caiaphas (John 18:24).
In fact, it is highly improbable that Jesus was brought before the Sanhedrin without first having been interviewed and at least an attempt having been made to obtain statements from him before the Council session. The experienced former high priest, Annas, would have played an important role in this. In all probability this pre-hearing also occupied the time that was necessary for the members of the Sanhedrin to be called together.7 But apparently that was not a problem. It may be that they had already been informed ahead of time. In any case, the Council assembled during the night between Thursday and Friday.
Before the Sanhedrin
In itself a night session is unusual. Therefore it has often been argued that, in accordance with the Mishnah (cf. m. Sanh. IV.1), in cases involving the death penalty the Sanhedrin was not permitted to hold a night session. Against this we may say that the Mishnah was only edited around 200 CE under Rabbi Yehuda Hanasi and in many respects was more of an abstract theory of law. Its directions regarding penal law probably played scarcely any role in the trial of Jesus. He was brought to trial in accordance with Old Testament and Sadducean penal law, and we do not know that law, with the exception of Old Testament regulations for the penal process. But the Old Testament does not forbid night courts.8
Besides, the Sanhedrin was under severe time constraint because of the Passover feast. If we follow the Synoptics’ chronology, Jesus died on 15 Nisan, that is, the Passover feast itself. A court session after daybreak of the feast day had to be avoided at all costs. The Sanhedrin had brought itself into this time constraint because of the late hour at which Jesus was arrested. There was probably no question, from the point of view of the Jewish officials, of waiting until after the feast day and the following Sabbath. Jesus’ arrest could not remain secret for long, and it was to be feared that Jesus’ sympathizers among the people would assemble. So the Council acted quickly and decisively, convening a night court. Mark 14:53 reads, “They took Jesus to the high priest; and all the chief priests, the elders, and the scribes were assembled.”
Mark here names the three groups that made up the Council or Sanhedrin. The first group included the reigning high priest and the occupants of a number of important temple offices as well as former high priests no longer in office. The second group was made up of the elders, who came from the most influential lay families in the country. Both the first and the s
econd group were primarily Sadducaic in their orientation. The third group within the Sanhedrin contained only scribes, and it was here, in this group, that the primary speakers for the Pharisees were to be found. What Mark calls the Sanhedrin, however, was not precisely the highest court for all Israel that the Mishnah would later describe, more in terms of legal theory than of practice; rather, it was a group the high priest gathered around himself for making important decisions. It was, so to speak, the Annas-clan’s instrument for wielding power.
The only participant whose name we know with certainty was Caiaphas. He must have been a skillful diplomat and a highly pragmatic politician, because he managed to remain in power for nearly twenty years, from 18 to 37 CE. No other high priest in the first century achieved such a long term of office. Caiaphas would not have survived so long if he had not had a powerful clan behind him and had he not adopted a flexible position toward the Roman prefects. So Caiaphas presided at this night session of the Council.
Mark’s report that witnesses appeared against Jesus during this trial corresponds exactly to Old Testament and Jewish trial law.9 In contrast to Roman law, which focused on the examination of the accused, opposing and supporting witnesses were constitutive for Jewish judicial proceedings; the opposing witnesses played the role of district attorney. The statements of the witnesses had to agree in every detail; otherwise, they were irrelevant to the proceedings.
It is important to ask what accusation was brought against Jesus. Some things indicate that he was said to be “leading the people astray.” Just such an accusation had been made against him in the past (cf. John 7:12), and it appears in Jewish sources long after his death. The Babylonian Talmud reads, “[Jesus] practiced magic and led Israel astray” (b. Sotah 47a). The charge of leading astray would have included such things as disregard for the Law and acting against the temple. Jesus’ temple action in particular must have played a major role. People in Jerusalem were allergic to any kind of hostility to the temple. It secured the chief significance of the city as a pilgrimage center and the incomes of the population, especially of the local aristocracy, depended on pilgrims. In any case, according to Mark’s account Jesus’ saying about the temple played an important initial role in his trial. But apparently it was not easy for the Sanhedrin to condemn Jesus in a clean judicial action for what he had said about the temple. The accusing witnesses did not agree, and the trial came to a standstill.
Messiah and Son of Man
In this situation Caiaphas opened a new segment in the proceedings. Because the witnesses did not agree, the court was short of proof. This may have moved the high priest to take a step that would compel a decision. Caiaphas asked Jesus, “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?” (Mark 14:61). There is no reason not to believe that the high priest asked such a question. It is meaningful and plausible. It refers to opinions and rumors that had long been circulating about Jesus. His dramatic entry into the city in particular must have given a new currency to this evaluation of his person. In addition, Caiaphas’s question follows on the temple action that had already been the subject of the proceedings, because that action had shown a sovereign and messianic character. So Caiaphas asks again about Jesus’ authority.
Jesus had already been questioned about his authority soon after the temple action by a delegation from the Council. He had not answered, but instead had posed a counter-question: “I will ask you one question; answer me, and I will tell you by what authority I do these things. Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin? Answer me” (Mark 11:29-30). Jesus’ counter-question is apparently based on the assumption that a public confession is not appropriate in every situation. The fact that the delegation from the Sanhedrin turned the question aside and refused to take a stand showed in retrospect that his reticence had been justified.
Now Jesus is asked again about his authority, but this time in a new and different situation. He now stands before the assembled Council, before the high priest, Israel’s representative. The conclusive nature of this moment must have been perfectly clear to Jesus. Therefore he answers directly, and to the question whether he is the Messiah he confesses, “I am.”
Naturally, the reader of the gospel wonders how Jesus can accept in the presence of the Sanhedrin a title of authority that is as enigmatic as it can possibly be, and as subject to political misunderstanding, one he has long avoided in public and even forbidden his disciples to use openly10 and that he himself has hinted at only symbolically through his entry into the city and his action in the temple. The answer can only be that now, in the presence of the highest authority in Israel, the hour has come to speak openly. Now the possibility of misunderstanding and deliberate misinterpretation must be accepted. In any case, as Jesus had warded off all political interpretations of his entry into the city by riding on a donkey, so now before Caiaphas he guards against any false notion of his messianic character. Thus he is not content to say “I am.” His immediate delimitation of the messianic title was compelling and urgently necessary: “and ‘you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of the Power,’ and ‘coming with the clouds of heaven’” (Mark 14:62).
Whether Mark and his tradition repeat word for word what Jesus said at that time in this combination of Psalm 110:1 and Daniel 7:13 is a question that may remain open. In any case, it seems to me certain that Jesus made his authority clear in the presence of Caiaphas—the same authority that had always been concealed in his speaking and acting, an authority that extended far beyond anything superficially messianic. For this purpose the phrase “Son of Man” (or “Human One” or “Human Being”) from Daniel 7 was ideally suited, for on the one hand this Son of Man is given “dominion and glory and kingship, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away” (Dan 7:14). On the other hand this Human One, as we have already seen in chapter 3 above, represents an ultimate human society that signifies the end to all dominion by force and violence.
Jesus had repeatedly used the “Son of Man” title during his public life.11 He employed it to express his lowliness—the Human One is the end of all societies built on force and violence—but he was also able, through it, to formulate his eschatological authority, to be given to him when the reign of God reaches its fulfillment. These two—lowliness and sovereignty—are not contradictory in Jesus’ eyes. That the Human One in Daniel 7 is a collective personality was likewise no problem at that time. Jesus sees himself as the embodiment, the representative of that collective, namely, the eschatological Israel.
Thus when Jesus speaks of himself before the Council as the Human One to come he is correcting an idea of the Messiah that could be misunderstood: he emphasizes his nonviolence. But at the same time he reveals his sovereignty. In that sovereignty, given him by God, he will become the judge of the Sanhedrin and of all Israel. It is not he who is on trial; it is the Sanhedrin itself that now stands in the dock, and Jesus has forced it to face this moment of decision.
However Jesus shaped what he said, Caiaphas understood. Two avenues were now open to him: believe in Jesus’ claims to sovereignty or be convinced that he has heard with his own ears a dreadful blasphemy against God. The high priest’s decision is clear. For him, confessing that Jesus would soon appear at the right hand of God as judge was nothing but damnable and blasphemous presumption. Now at last had been proved before many witnesses what had long been suspected: Jesus is a false prophet, a blasphemer, someone who was leading Israel astray.
Therefore Caiaphas immediately does what the Law demands of someone forced to listen to blasphemy: he tears his clothes,12 and he points the way to what the Torah prescribes for a false prophet, namely, that he be punished with death. Israel must remove the wickedness from its midst (Deut 13:2-6). The rest of the court joins in Caiaphas’s decision: “All of them condemned him as deserving death” (Mark 14:64). At this point Mark inserts two scenes: first, very briefly and succinctly, the mocking an
d mistreatment of Jesus after his affirmation (Mark 14:65), and then, at much greater length, Peter’s threefold denial (Mark 14:66-72). Then he takes up the thread of the Council’s action again.13 He now reports the end of the meeting—the Sanhedrin makes a formal decision to transfer Jesus to Pilate’s jurisdiction: “As soon as it was morning, the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council. They bound Jesus, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate” (Mark 15:1). A new proceeding against Jesus then immediately begins before Pilate, this time according to Roman law and with a Roman official presiding.
Before Pilate
This seamless interlocking of the trial machinery was only possible because the Roman prefect, who otherwise resided at Caesarea Maritima on the Mediterranean, took up residence in Jerusalem for the Passover feast and because the Romans customarily began their court sessions at dawn. Of course, a whole series of questions arises at this point: Why were there two trials in the first place? Why was there need for a Roman trial after a Jewish one had just taken place? And the reverse: If the Jewish officials knew a Roman judicial process would be necessary, why did they carry out their own procedure during the night? Furthermore, what was the nature of the formal decision reached by the Sanhedrin? Was it an official sentence of death, or only a resolution to hand Jesus over, that is, a decision to accuse him before the Roman prefect?
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