“My God, why have you forsaken me?”

Mark 15.33-36, Matthew 27.45-49.

Just before he died, Jesus shouted out something in a language his bystanders didn’t recognize. And a lot of present-day commentators don’t recognize it either. We know it was Psalm 22.1, but some of us say Jesus quoted it in Aramaic; some say Hebrew. Which was it?

The reason for the confusion is Mark and Matthew don’t match. Both of ’em recorded Jesus’s words as best they could—but they transliterated them into the Greek alphabet, which doesn’t correspond to Hebrew and Syriac sounds as neatly as you’d think. (And if your web browser is so old it doesn’t do Unicode, you won’t be able to read ’em either.)

VERSE	ORIGINAL	TRANSLITERATION
Ps 22.1, Hebrew	אֵלִ֣י אֵלִ֣י לָמָ֣ה עֲזַבְתָּ֑נִי	Elí Elí, lamá azavettáni?
Ps 22.1, Syriac	ܐܰܠܳܗܝ ܐܰܠܳܗܝ ܠܡܳܢܳܐ ܫܒ݂ܰܩܬ݁ܳܢܝ	Elahí Elahí, lamaná šavaqtaní?
Mk 15.34, Greek	ἐλωΐ ἐλωΐ, λεμᾶ σαβαχθανί;	Elo’í Elo’í, lemá savahthaní? (or σαβακτανεί/savaktaneí in the Codex Sinaiticus.)
Mt 27.46, Greek	ἠλί ἠλί, λεμὰ σαβαχθανί;	Ilí ilí, lemá savahthaní?

Just based on how the gospels’ authors wrote the word for “my God,” Elí in Hebrew or Elahí in Syriac, it kinda looks like Mark was quoting a Syriac translation of the psalms, and Matthew the Hebrew original.

There are three reasons I feel Jesus is most likely to have quoted bible in Hebrew:

1. It is the language King David wrote his psalm in.
2. It’d explain why the people who heard Jesus quote it, didn’t understand him. First-century Israelis spoke Syriac; that’s what the New Testament meant by Ἑβραϊστί/Evrahistí and Ἑβραΐδι/Evra’ídi, “Hebraic.” Jn 5.2, Ac 22.2, 26.14, Rv 9.11 In the first century Hebrew was a dead language, only spoken by scribes like Jesus.
3. It’s way easier to confuse Elí with Ἡλίας/Ilías, the Greek version of אֵלִיָּה/Eliyyáhu, “Elijah,” than it is Elahí.

Regardless, in my translation the words in Jesus’s mouth are Syriac in Mark, and Hebrew in Matthew. ’Cause that’s what the authors were apparently going for.

Mark 15.33-36 KWL

33Upon the coming of the sixth hour since sunrise—noon—

darkness comes over all the land till the ninth hour.

34In the ninth hour Jesus cries out with a loud voice,

“?ܐܰܠܳܗܝ ܐܰܠܳܗܝ ܠܡܳܢܳܐ ܫܒ݂ܰܩܬ݁ܳܢܝ”

which is translated,

“My God my God, for what reason have you left me behind?” Ps 22.1

35Hearing this, some bystanders said, “Look, he calls Elijah.”

36One of the runners, filling a sponge of vinegar,

putting it on a reed, gives Jesus a drink,

saying, “Let’s see if Elijah comes to take him.”

Matthew 27.45-49 KWL

45From the sixth hour since sunrise—noon—

darkness comes over all the land till the ninth hour.

46Around the ninth hour Jesus cries out with a loud voice,

saying, “?אִיל אִיל למֹנֹא שׁבַֽקתֹ֗ני”

that is,

“My God my God, why did you leave me behind?” Ps 22.1

47Some of the bystanders, hearing, are saying this:

“This man calls Elijah.”

48Quickly a runner, one of them, leaves them.

Taking a sponge full of vinegar,

putting it on a reed, he gives Jesus a drink.

49The others say,

“Let’s see if Elijah comes, and will save him.”

Awright, now that we have the language sorta squared away, let’s get to what was going on here.

Jesus gets abused by his guards.

Mark 14.65, Matthew 26.67-68, Luke 22.63-65, John 18.22-23.

Historically, people have always abused prisioners. They figure there was good reason you were arrested and imprisoned, whether you’d been tried and convicted or not. Heck, maybe you even weren’t guilty of the charges brought against you… but you were in prison because you’d done wrong in some other way, and either the gods or the universe were punishing you for it in this way. Or whatever other justification bullies could come up with for smacking you around.

Our laws have since made prisioner abuse illegal. Not that these laws have stopped anything. Cops and guards will still smack a prisioner around if they don’t respect the law and think they can get away with it. Lynchings used to happen all the time in the United States. Not just during the Jim Crow era, when white terrorists did it to blacks to promote white supremacy, but whenever any angry citizens took the law into their own hands and tarred and feathered, or shot or hung, anybody they saw as troublemakers… or competition. Not for nothing do police body cameras need to stay constantly on. But let me get off that tangent and get to when Jesus was slapped by his guards. Happened during his pre-trial trial:

John 18.22-23 KWL

22Once he says this, one of the bystanding police

gives Jesus a slap, saying,

“This you answer the head priest?”

23Jesus answers him, “If I speak evil, testify about the evil.

If good, why beat me?”

In Mark, Jesus isn’t beaten till after the Judean senate found him guilty, but in both Matthew and Luke the guards didn’t care to wait for any trial; they made up their own minds about him.

Mark 14.65 KWL

Certain people begin to spit on Jesus,

to cover his face and punch him,

to tell him, “Prophesy!

Which underling gave you that punch?”

Matthew 26.67-68 KWL

67Then they spit in Jesus’s face and punch him.

with those slapping him

68saying, “Prophesy to us, ‘Messiah’!

Which of us hit you?”

Luke 22.63-65 KWL

63The men holding Jesus are mocking him,

beating him,

64and covering Jesus’s face,

{punching him in the face,

and} saying, “Prophesy!

Which of us hit you?”

65Many other slanderers

are saying likewise to Jesus.

This behavior offends Christians nowadays, because we know Jesus did nothing wrong. And yet all too often, these very same Christians don’t mind if another prisioner gets roughed up by police or prison guards, because those folks must be guilty, right? They can’t possibly have caught the wrong guy. Can’t possibly be hassling another innocent victim like Jesus. Right?

I’ve heard fellow Christians take perverse glee about convicts experiencing abuse in prision. Even jokes about prison rape, which are way too commonplace considering this is a crime which needs to be exterminated. But these folks love the idea of rough treatment in prison. Serves ’em right, they figure.

But of course violence is not a legal punishment, and doesn’t fit the crime. Somebody incarcerated for a lesser crime, like fraud or theft, can be attacked same as a murderer or rapist. Someone can be assaulted for their race, or because they’re gay, or because they’re mentally ill, or any number of other factors which have nothing to do with why they should be in prison. But even if they are in prison for murder: If that’s a beloved family member of yours, you’re not gonna appreciate those prison-rape jokes. And God forbid there’s some mixup which puts you in a holding cell with some angry, rapey thugs.

To hear these jokesters talk, if it were up to them we’d go right back to the bad old days of beating confessions out of suspects. And they claim to be Christian! So how is it Jesus’s experience at the hands of his accusers, haven’t made ’em realize “innocent till proven guilty” is always the way to treat suspects?

Well, lots of reasons. But most of them have their origin in gracelessness.

Jesus’s pre-trial trial before Annas.

John 18.12-14, 19-24.

In the synoptic gospels, right after Jesus’s arrest, the Judean police and their posse took Jesus to the head priest’s house. But in John they didn’t. John’s the only gospel in which they first take a little side trip… to the former head priest’s house. That’d be Khánan bar Seth, whom historical records call Ananus, and whom the KJV calls Annas. John relates Simon Peter also denounced Jesus in Annas’s courtyard.

Backstory time. Shortly after the time of the Maccabees, the head priests became the kings of Judea. And Israelis called their kings Messiah. (Yep, that title.) The priests’ dynasty ended with Herod 1, who took the throne from his father-in-law Antigonus Mattathias in 37BC. Herod became king, but because he was Edomite not Aaronite, he couldn’t be head priest; only descendants of Aaron could be head priest, y’know. Lv 6.22 So Herod claimed the right to appoint the head priests. In fact he appointed a bunch of head priests, ’cause he kept firing them when they wouldn’t do as he wished.

Once the Romans took Judea from the Herods, they did the same thing. Annas was the 11th appointed head priest since Herod took over. (He’s actually the ninth guy to hold the job. Some previous head priests had non-consecutive terms.) Annas was appointed by the Syrian legate Publius Sulpicius Quirinius in the year 6, and stayed in office till the year 15. He’s a descendant of King John Hyrcanus, and while he was still in the royal family, he wasn’t actually a contender for the throne.

Bible commentators aren’t always aware Herod and the Romans kept swapping out head priests, and assume Annas was the hereditary head priest, like all the head priests before Herod. So they aren’t so surprised when Annas’s five sons, son-in-law, and grandson become head priest after him: Isn’t it supposed to be a hereditary job? And yeah, originally it was… but in Jesus’s time it wasn’t, and hadn’t been for decades. So the fact Annas managed to keep his family in power for nearly 60 years is mighty impressive.

Annas’s successors include:

• Eleazar, his son (16-17CE)
• Joseph bar Caiaphas, his son-in-law (18-36)
• Jonathan, his son (36-37)
• Theophilus, his son (37-41)
• Matthias, his son (43)
• Jonathan again (44)
• Annas 2, his son (63)
• Mattathias, his grandson (65-66)

Annas wasn’t the only guy with a political dynasty though. Four sons and a grandson of Boethus, another descendant of Aaron, were also head priest. Including Joazar bar Boethus, Annas’s direct predecessor.

Since Annas’s family kept holding the office of head priest, clearly Annas had a lot of influence in Judea. The Judeans certainly thought so. Not for nothing do two of the gospels treat Annas kinda like he’s still head priest. John straight-up calls him the head priest in verse 19 of today’s passage, and Luke also calls him the head priest when he’s nailing down the time John the baptist’s ministry began:

Luke 3.2 KJV

Annas and Caiaphas being the high priests, the word of God came unto John the son of Zacharias in the wilderness.

The bible indicates there’s only one head priest (and currently it’s Jesus, He 3.1) but Annas wielded enough power behind the scenes that everyone basically acknowledged yeah, Annas was still head priest. Any time one of his kids was head priest, he was back in power, and even though he didn’t personally wear the ephod and go into the Holiest Place during Yom Kippur, functionally he was head priest too.

And even though the head priest wasn’t king anymore, he was still functionally Judea’s head of state. The Roman emperors were off in Rome having orgies (no seriously; Cæsar Tiberias was a big orgy guy), and the Roman procurators only worried about keeping down insurrections. So the actual running of Judea was left to the Judean senate, and the head priest was the senate president. He ran the country. Not necessarily well, nor with the best interests of Judeans in mind: He wanted to keep the Romans from clamping down on his his nation’s freedoms, remain in power, and feather his own nest.

So if Jesus is Messiah, this was an utter threat to his power. So naturally Annas wanted to check out this reported Messiah for himself. After all, what if he was Messiah? What if he actually, suddenly called down 12 legions of angels Mt 26.53 and took his kingdom by force? Annas may have already made up his mind about Jesus, but he wasn’t stupid; he still needed to meet the man.

Judas Iscariot turns Jesus in.

Mark 14.42-46, Matthew 26.46-50,
Luke 22.47-48, John 18.1-3.

In St. John Paul’s list of stations of the cross, the second station combines Judas Iscariot’s betrayal and Jesus the Nazrene’s arrest. ’Cause they happened simultaneously—they, and Simon Peter slashing one of the head priest’s slaves. There’s a lot to unpack there, which is why I want to look at them separately. Getting betrayed and getting arrested, fr’instance: That’s two different kinds of suffering. Psychological and physical.

Right after Jesus prayed in Gethsemane (the first station), this happened:

Mark 14.42-46 KWL

42“Get up so we can go:

Here comes the one who turns me in.”

43Next, while Jesus is still speaking,

Judas Iscariot approaches the Twelve.

With him, a crowd with machetes and sticks,

coming from the head priests, scribes, and elders.

44The one who turns Jesus in

had given the crowd a signal,

saying, “Whomever I might show affection to, is him.

Grab him and take him away carefully.”

45Next, coming to Jesus, he tells him, “Rabbi!”

and kisses him hello.

46So the crowd lays their hands on Jesus

and arrests him.

Matthew 26.46-50 KWL

46Get up so we can go:

Here comes the one who sold me out.”

47While Jesus is still speaking, look:

Judas Iscariot, one of the Twelve, comes.

With him is a great crowd with machetes and sticks,

coming from the head priests, elders, and people.

48The one who turns Jesus in gives them a sign,

saying, “Whomever I might show affection to, is him. Grab him.”

49Immediately coming to Jesus, he says, “Hello, rabbi!”

and kisses him hello.

50Jesus tells Judas, “Brother, why have you come?”

Then the approaching mob throws their hands on Jesus

and seizes him.

Luke 22.47-48 KWL

47While Jesus is still speaking, look: A crowd.

And the one called Judas, one of the Twelve, leading them.

He goes to Jesus to kiss him hello,

48and Jesus tells him, “Judas,

to kiss the Son of Man,

you turn him in.”

John 18.1-3 KWL

1When Jesus says this,

he with his students go over the Kidron ravine,

where there’s a garden.

He and his students enter it.

2 Judas Iscariot, who was turning him in,

knew of the place,

because Jesus often gathers with his students there.

3 So Judas, bringing 200 men,

plus servants of the head priests and Pharisees,

comes there with torches, lamps, and arms.

Could’ve called down the angels.

Matthew 26.52-54.

When Jesus was arrested in Gethsemane on the morning of 3 April 33, the knee-jerk response of his students, same as every human, is fight or flight. Some fled; some fought.

And it was really stupid of them to fight. You realize Jesus’s Twelve (minus Judas Iscariot of course) consisted of 11 teenagers with no self-defense training, opposing the temple police accompanied by a mob. Definitely outnumbered. But you know there’s always gonna be a faction of true believers who think, “Numbers don’t matter! Gideon routed the Midianite and Amalekite armies with only 300 men. Jg 7 Samson personally slaughtered a thousand people with a jawbone. Jg 15.16 God can likewise supernaturally empower me to fight any number of people.”

Okay yes, God can do and empower anything he wants. But does he want to empower us to singlehandedly fight a mob? Did he state anything in advance about this sort of thing, like he’d said to Gideon and Samson? Or have we arrogantly presumed our cause is righteous, and right makes might?—because unless God intervenes, it really doesn’t, and if God hasn’t foresaid he’s gonna intervene, likely he won’t.

Had God foresaid he’d intervene in Jesus’s arrest? Or had Jesus said just the opposite, multiple times, Mk 8.31, 10.32-34 and the students were in denial? That second one. Jesus didn’t say, “We’ll go to Jerusalem and we’ll be just fine.” God hadn’t told anyone, “A mob will appear, but fight them and you’ll win.” Jesus warned them: He’s getting arrested. There’ll be no supernatural defeat of any mob. Neither Jesus’s kids will hold them back, nor 10,000 angels pouring from the black sky to smite every sinner on the ground. Jesus won’t fight back. He’s gonna surrender. On purpose.

And in so doing win, and win big.

But Christians still don’t understand this strategy. We still keep adopting the tactic to fight back hard.

Although the whole angels-pouring-from-the-sky idea? It actually was an option. And now I’ll quote that passage. It happens right after a violent follower lops off the ear of the head priest‘s slave. Matthew never identifies the guy (John does), nor points out Jesus immediately cured him (Luke does), but only records Jesus’s rebuke.

Matthew 26.52-54 KWL

52Then Jesus tells him, “Put your¹ machete back in its place!

For everyone who chooses arms

will be destroyed by arms.

53Or do you¹ think I can’t call out to my Father,

and he will give me, right now,

more than 12 legions of angels?

54But then how might the scriptures be fulfilled?

So this has to happen.”

I wanna zero in on this Matthew statement because it reminds us how utterly in control Jesus is: At any point of Good Friday he could’ve stopped it. Any point.

Stopping the mob with a word.

John 18.3-9.

In contrast with the mob arresting Jesus in the synoptic gospels, and Simon Peter whipping out a machete to slash at them, and chaos and fighting and a quick supernatural healing, Lk 22.51 the Gospel of John shows Jesus has total control of the situation.

Yeah there’s a mob; yeah they’ve come to grab him, and bring the usual chaos and disorder. But when they approached Jesus, he actually stopped them. With two words.

John 18.3-9 KWL

3So Judas Iscariot, taking the mob,

and officers from the head priests and Pharisees,

comes there with torches, lamps, and weapons.

4Jesus already knew what is coming to him,

so he comes forth and tells the mob,

“For whom are you looking?”

5They answer him, “Jesus the Nazarene.”

Jesus tells them, “Here I am.”

Judas his betrayer was standing with them,

6so when Jesus tells them, “Here I am,”

they move backward and fall to the ground.

7So again Jesus asks them,

“For whom are you looking?”

They say, “Jesus the Nazarene.”

8Jesus answers, “I tell you, here I am.

So if you seek me,

leave these others alone to go away”—

9so he might fulfill this word which he says:

“I’ve not lost anyone whom you’ve given me.” Jn 17.12

The two words Jesus said to the mob are ἐγώ εἰμι/eghó eími, “I am.” It’s short for “Here I am,” which is why I added the word “here” for us English-speakers. And various preachers love to point out “I AM” is the the name of God which he shared with Moses ben Amram in Midian. Literally what God shared with Moses was אֶֽהְיֶ֖ה אֲשֶׁ֣ר אֶֽהְיֶ֖ה/Ehyé ašér ehyé, “I’m being what I’m being.” Or, for short, יהוה/YHWH, which means the same thing—which we either transliterate as “Yahweh,” or translate as “Jehovah.” Anyway these preachers like to imagine—and proclaim all the time—Jesus wasn’t just saying, “Here I am,” like you would if you were surrendering, but boldly declaring the 𝕳𝖔𝖑𝖞 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕲𝖔𝖉, and identifying himself with it. So the Holy Spirit promptly knocked this unholy mob onto their keisters. “Every knee will bow,” Pp 2.10 and all that.

Simon Peter’s machete.

Mark 14.47, Matthew 26.51-54, Luke 22.49-51, John 18.10-11.

When I translate the gospels, there’s a word, μάχαιρα/mákhera, which people tend to translate “sword” or “short sword” or “dagger.” Which is actually no such thing; it’s a long heavy single-bladed work knife. It’s a machete. So I translate it “machete.”

And I’ve gotten complaints about this: “He wasn’t wielding a machete!” Yes he was. You just prefer to think of it as a sword. You’ve seen art and movies where people are carrying swords or daggers, not work knives; you prefer to imagine people were using proper weapons of war instead of any tools they happened to own. Even though it’s far more realistic they’d use tools, instead of spending a bunch of denarii they didn’t have on fancy swords with scrollwork and macho-sounding names. And this has always been true. Farmers dragged off to war wouldn’t have proper weapons, so they’d bring their sharpest farm implements. Spontaneous rioters didn’t have a cache of swords, so they’d bring pitchforks and torches. They’d get mowed down by soldiers with swords, battleaxes, and spears, and later rifles. But they’d defend themselves—pitifully—as best they could with what they actually had.

When Jesus was arrested, his students had machetes on them. And one overeager kid whipped it out and started to use it on the mob who’d come to get Jesus.

Mark 14.47 KWL

One of the bystanders, pulling out a machete,

strikes the head priest’s slave, and cuts his ear off.

It’s often said the Gospel of Mark was written by John Mark, the nephew of Barnabas Cl 4.10 whom Paul initially refused to work with Ac 15.37-40 but later called useful. 2Ti 4.11 Tradition has it Mark became a student of Simon Peter, and Peter was the source for his gospel… and if that’s so, it kinda looks like Peter lied to Mark and got him to think this was some bystander, not him. But it’s more likely Peter simply didn’t tell Mark this part of the story, and Mark had to source it from someone else who didn’t know this was Peter.

How do we know it’s Peter? ’Cause Peter’s fellow student John outed him.

John 18.10-11 KWL

10Simon Peter, having a machete, draws it

and strikes the head priest’s slave.

He slices off his right ear.

The slave’s name was Malchus.

11So Jesus tells Peter, “Sheath your¹ machete.

This is the cup the Father gave me.

Shouldn’t I drink it?”

John identifies, and possibly knew, the slave; Malchus is a Romanized form of the Hebrew name מֶלֶךְ/Melékh. John wrote his gospel to fill in the blanks in Luke, and Luke’s gospel is the only one which says Jesus cured poor Malchus right after his ear was lopped off.

Luke 22.49-51 KWL

49Seeing what those round them intend to do,

the students say, “Master, should we strike with a machete?”

50One hit a certain one of them—the head priest’s slave—

and cuts his right ear off.

51In response Jesus says, “That’s enough!”

and touching the ear, Jesus cures him.

And lastly let’s see Matthew, in which Jesus rebukes Peter with his famous line “He who lives by the machete shall die by the machete.” Okay, I realize that’s not how you remember the saying, and I swapped “machete” out with “arms” because I’m quite sure Jesus wasn’t referring to any specific weapon. He who lives by the gun will die by the gun; he who lives by biological warfare will die by biological warfare; he who smites one way will be smitten the same way. Same general idea.

Matthew 26.51-54 KWL

51Look, one of those with Jesus stretches out his hand,

draws his machete,

and striking the head priest’s slave,

cuts off his ear.

52Then Jesus tells him, “Put your¹ machete back in its place!

For everyone who chooses arms

will be destroyed by arms.

53Or do you¹ think I can’t call out to my Father,

and he will give me, right now,

more than 12 legions of angels?

54But then how might the scriptures be fulfilled?

So this has to happen.”

This story is part of the stations of the cross, ’cause it happens during Jesus’s betrayal and arrest.

Jesus’s arrest, and his abuse begins.

Mark 14.45-52, Matthew 26.50-56, Luke 22.49-54, John 18.4-12.

The second station, in John Paul’s list of stations of the cross, is where Judas betrayed Jesus and Jesus was arrested. Same station for both. But different forms of suffering: Judas was about when your friends or confidants turn on you, and the rest was about the pain and dread people feel when their enemies have ’em right where they want ’em.

Let’s go to the gospels.

Mark 14.45-52 KWL

45Immediately going to Jesus,

Judas tells him, “Rabbi!” and kisses him hello.

46So the mob grabs and arrests Jesus.

47One of the bystanders, pulling out a machete,

strikes the head priest’s slave, and cuts his ear off.

48In reply, Jesus tells them, “You come out with machetes and sticks

to snatch me away, like I’m an insurgent.

49Daytime, I was with you in the temple, teaching.

You didn’t arrest me then.

But this—it’ll fulfill the scriptures.”

50Abandoning Jesus, everyone flees.

51There was some teenager following Jesus

who was naked, wearing a toga.

They seize him,

52but he abandons his toga and flees naked.

Matthew 26.50-56 KWL

50Jesus tells Judas, “Brother, why have you come?”

Then the approaching mob throws their hands on Jesus

and seizes him.

51Look, one of those with Jesus stretches out his hand,

draws his machete,

and, striking the head priest’s slave,

cuts off his ear.

52Then Jesus tells him, “Put your machete back in its place!

For everyone who chooses arms

will be destroyed by arms.

53Or do you think I can’t call out to my Father,

and he will give me, right now,

more than 12 legions of angels?

54Then how might the scriptures be fulfilled?

So this has to happen.”

55At this time, Jesus tells the crowd, “You come out

with machetes and sticks to snatch me away,

like I’m an insurgent.

Daytime, I was sitting in the temple, teaching.

You didn’t arrest me then.

56This is all happening so the prophets’ writings can be fulfilled.”

Then all the students abandon Jesus and run.

Luke 22.49-54 KWL

49Seeing what those round them intend to do,

the students say, “Master, should we strike with a machete?”

50One hit a certain one of them—the head priest’s slave—

and cuts his right ear off.

51In response Jesus says, “That’s enough!”

and touching the ear, Jesus cures him.

52Jesus tells those who come for him—

head priests, temple guards, and elders—

“You come out with machetes and sticks

like I’m an insurgent.

53Daytime, I was with you in the temple.

You didn’t grab me then.

But this is your hour—

the power of darkness.”

54They arrest Jesus, lead him away,

and bring him to the head priest’s house.

Simon Peter is following at a distance.

John 18.4-12 KWL

4So Jesus, who already knew everything coming upon him,

comes forth and tells them, “Whom are you looking for?”

5They answer him, “Jesus the Nazarene.”

Jesus tells them, “I’m him.”

Judas his betrayer had been standing with them.

6So when Jesus tells them, “I’m him,”

they move backward and fall to the ground.

7So again Jesus asks them, “Whom are you looking for?”

They say, “Jesus the Nazarene.”

8Jesus answers, “I tell you I’m him,

so if it’s me you look for,

leave these others alone to go away,”

9so he might fulfill the word which he says, namely this:

“I’ve not lost anyone whom you’ve given me.” Jn 17.12

10Simon Peter, having a machete, draws it

and strikes the head priest’s slave.

He slices off his right ear.

The slave’s name was Malchus.

11So Jesus tells Peter, “Sheath your machete.

This is the cup the Father gave me.

Shouldn’t I drink it?”

12 So the 200 men, the general, and the Judean servants

arrest Jesus and tie him up.

The legality of Jesus’s trial.

When you read the gospel of John, but skip the other three synoptic gospels, y’might get the idea Jesus never even had a trial. In John:

• Jesus gets arrested.
• He’s taken right to the former head priest Annas’s house for an unofficial trial.
• From there, to Joseph Caiaphas’s house for interrogation.
• Then to Pontius Pilate’s prætorium for interrogation.
• Then to Golgotha for crucifixion.

No conviction, no sentence; just interviews followed by execution. Same as would be done in any country with no formal judicial system: They catch you, they interrogate you, they free or shoot you.

But both Judea and Rome did have a formal system. John doesn’t show it because the other gospels do. John was written to fill in the gaps in the other gospels’ stories—which include Jesus’s formal trials. There were two: The one before the Judean senate, and the other before the Roman prætor. The senate, presided over by head priest Caiaphas, found Jesus guilty of blasphemy and sedition. In contrast Pilate publicly stated he didn’t find Jesus guilty of anything—but he didn’t care enough to free him, and sent Jesus to his death all the same.

Is Jesus guilty of blasphemy? Only if he isn’t actually the Son of Man, and of course the senate absolutely refused to believe that’s who he is.

But Jesus actually is guilty of sedition.

I know, I know: Christians wanna insist Jesus is absolutely innocent. He never sinned y’know. But this “sedition” has nothing to do with sin against God and the Law of Moses. It has to do with human laws, Roman laws. Jesus is the legitimate Messiah, the king of Israel and Judea, anointed by God to rule that nation and the world. He’s Lord; he’s the Lord of lords. And that’s a threat to everyone who figures they’re lord—particularly the lords of Israel at that time. To Caiaphas, Herod, and Cæsar Tiberius, “Jesus is Lord” is sedition.

To leadership today it still is. Many of them don’t realize this, ’cause they don’t think of Jesus as any threat to their power. Especially after they neuter him, by convincing his supporters he’d totally vote for them and their party—and his so-called followers buy it, and follow their parties instead of Jesus. So it stands to reason our leadership isn’t worried about Jesus. Yet.

But in the year 33, Jesus was tangibly standing on the earth, in a real position to upend the status quo. He was therefore a real threat to the lords of Israel at the time—whether we’re talking emperors, prefects, tetrarchs, senators, synagogue presidents, or scribes who were used to everyone following their spins on the scriptures. To all these folks, Jesus was competition who needed to be crushed.

Following Jesus instead of these other lords: Sedition. Totally sedition. Flagrant, indefensible sedition. But it’s not against God’s Law. It’s only against human customs, so Jesus isn’t guilty of sin in God’s eyes; still totally sinless. Relax.

Thing is, Christians don’t wanna think of Jesus as guilty of anything. We wanna defend him against everything. We don’t wanna think of his conviction and trials as valid. We don’t wanna imagine his execution was a function of a corrupt system; worse, that perhaps our own existing systems are just as corrupt, and if his first coming had taken place today, we’d’ve killed him too. Nor do we wanna recognize sentencing him to death is in any way parallel to the way we depose him as the master of our lives, and prioritize other things over him. We don’t wanna think of his trial as a miscarriage of justice; we’d rather imagine it as illegal.

This is why, every Easter, you’re gonna hear various Christians claim Jesus’s trial wasn’t legal. That the Judeans had broken all their own laws in order to arrest him and hold his trial at night, get him to testify against himself, and get him killed before anyone might find out what they were up to. It certainly feels illegal: If you ever heard of a suspect arrested at midnight, tried and convicted at 2AM, and hastily executed by noon, doesn’t the whole thing smell mighty fishy?

Jesus prays at Gethsemane, in 𝘓𝘶𝘬𝘦.

Luke 22.39-46.

Of the three different versions of Jesus praying at Gethsemane found in the synoptic gospels, Luke has the shortest version. Mainly because the other synoptics tell of Jesus praying thrice, but Luke only has him pray once. So he’s not coming back two other times to find his students asleep, wake them, remind them to pray, then go off and pray again.

Plus there’s this odd bit someone inserted about an angel, and sweat pouring off of Jesus in such quantities it’s like he’s bleeding. The story of it was told in the second century, and someone decided to insert it into the gospels in the third—either here in Luke 22.43-44, or right after Matthew 26.39. Preachers love to quote it to claim Jesus was sweating blood—ignoring the word ὡσεὶ/oseí, “like,” which clearly shows it was like blood, not literally blood. But that’s a whole other article.

Anyway once you ignore verses 43-44, which I put in brackets ’cause they were added to the text by the Textus Receptus the Luke passage gets even shorter. A little less intense, actually. Going off to pray three different times makes it sound like Jesus was really wrestling with his request. Praying once doesn’t give you that impression. Maybe that’s why the ancients inserted the bit about Jesus soaking himself in sweat. Well anyway, let’s get to the passage:

Luke 22.39-46 KWL

39Leaving the seder, Jesus goes as usual to Mt. Olivet,

and {his} students go with him.

40Coming to the place, Jesus tells his students,

“Pray to not enter into temptation.”

41Jesus draws away from the students—

like as far as a stone’s throw—

and takes to his knees and is praying,

42saying, “Father, if you¹ will,

take this cup away from me!

Only don’t do my will,

but yours.”

43{A heavenly angel appears to Jesus,

strengthening him.

44Being in agony, Jesus is fervently praying,

and his sweat is becoming like drops of blood,

pouring out onto the ground.}

45Rising from the prayer, coming to the students,

Jesus finds them sleeping from the grief.

46Jesus tells his students, “You’re² sleeping?

Rise up and pray, lest you² come to temptation.”

Because of the uniqueness of verses 43-44, preachers love to quote that bit, and ignore the rest. After all, if you wanna talk about Jesus’s intense spiritual struggle in Gethsemane, you’ve got the Mark and Matthew versions. The only thing Luke appears to offer is this “new” bit of information about an angel strengthening an extremely moist Jesus. Plus centuries of Christian commentators pointing out how very human Jesus’s flop sweat makes him sound. Plus, of course, all the preachers who suck at reading comprehension, and claim he sweat blood.

So for a change let’s not look at that part, and focus on what Luke actually did write.

Jesus prays at Gethsemane, in 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘸.

Matthew 26.26-46.

The synoptic gospels all tell of Jesus praying in Gethsemane, a privately-owned olive garden on Mt. Olivet. Its name in Syriac is ܓ݁ܶܕ݁ܣܺܡܰܢ/Gad Smáni, which likely comes from the Hebrew גַּת שֶׁמֶן/gat šemén, “oil press.” John says they liked to hang out there, Jn 18.2 and Luke says it’s where they usually went. Lk 22.39 I already wrote of the Mark version of the story; now for the Matthew version.

Matthew 26.36-46 KWL

36Then Jesus comes with his students

to a private property called Gad Smáni/“oil press.”

He tells the students, “Sit here while I go there and pray.”

37Taking Simon Peter and Zebedee’s two sons,

Jesus begins to be distressed and troubled.

38Jesus tells his students, “My soul is intensely sad,

to the point of death.

Stay here and stay awake with me.”

39Going a little further,

Jesus falls on his face,

praying and saying, “My Father!

If it’s possible, make this cup pass by me!

Only not what I will,

but what you¹ will.”

40Jesus comes to the students

and finds them sleeping.

He tells Peter, “So you’re² not strong enough

to be awake one hour with me.

41Stay awake and pray!—

lest you² come to temptation.

You have a truly eager spirit—

and weak flesh.”

42Going away again a second time,

Jesus prays, saying, “My Father!

If this {cup} can’t pass by {me} unless I drink it—

your¹ will be done.”

43Coming back again, Jesus finds his students sleeping,

for their eyes are very heavy.

44Leaving the students again, going away,

Jesus prays a third time,

saying the same word again.

45Then Jesus comes to the students

and tells them, “Sleep the rest of the time.

Get your² rest.

…Look, the hour came near,

and the Son of Man is betrayed into sinners’ hands.

46Get up; we should go.

Look, my betrayer came near.”

Mark also says Jesus went off by himself to pray thrice—saying the same thing each time Mk 14.39 —but lest you get the idea Jesus is praying the exact same prayer each time, Matthew records two of the prayers. Both prayers have the very same theme—I don’t wanna, but your will be done—but they’re not the very same words. Same theme, different words. And when Matthew says Jesus prayed the same thing the third time, he notably says Jesus is saying the same λόγον/lóyon, “word,” again. Not “words,” as the KJV translates it; it’s singular, because it means message, not literally word. Same idea. Same prayer.

And same as Mark, the kids had fallen asleep while Jesus prayed. Preachers like to joke somebody must’ve stayed awake to recall what Jesus said… and if that’s so, y’notice they don’t record Jesus’s third prayer, because all of them were dead asleep by then. But no, nobody had to stay awake to take dictation. At some point later, one of the kids probably asked Jesus, “So what’d you pray in the garden?” and he told them. Jesus was more than capable of filling in the blanks in his own story, y’know.

Stations of the cross: Remembering Christ’s suffering.

In Jerusalem, Israel, Christians remember Jesus’s death by actually going down the same route he traveled the day he died. It’s called the Way of Jesus, the Way of Sorrows (Latin, Via Dolorosa), or the Way of the Cross (Via Cručis). When I visited Jerusalem, it’s part of the tour package: Loads of us Christians go this route every single day, observing all the places Jesus is said to have suffered. Really solemn, moving stuff.

But most of us Christians don’t live in or near Jerusalem, and some of us can’t possibly go there. For this reason St. Francis of Assisi invented “the stations of the cross.” In his church building, he set up seven different dioramas. Each represented an event which happened as Jesus was led to his death. The people of his church would go to each diorama—each station—and meditate on what Jesus did for us all.

Yeah, this is a Catholic thing, ’cause Francis was Roman Catholic. But it’s not exclusively Catholic: Many Lutherans, Anglicans, and Methodists use stations of the cross too. My church has ’em in our prayer garden. Be fair: If a Protestant invented it, you’d find Protestants doing it everywhere. ’Cause it’s a really useful idea.

It’s why I bring it up here. The stations of the cross are a clever, more tangible way to think about Jesus’s death, what he went through, and what that means. It’s why lots of Catholic churches—and a growing number of Protestant churches—keep the stations up year-round. Could take the form of paintings, sculptures, or stained-glass windows. Christians can “travel the Way of Jesus” any time we wanna contemplate his death, and what he did for us.

If you’ve ever seen Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, he made sure to include all the traditional stations in his movie. As do Catholic passion plays, reenactments of Jesus’s death. Protestant passion plays often include ’em too, though we tend to skip many of the events we don’t find in the gospels. As you’ll notice, some of Francis’s stations came from the popular culture of early 1200s Italy. Not bible.

Jesus dies. And takes our sin with him.

Mark 15.33-39, Matthew 27.45-54, Luke 23.44-48, John 19.28-37.

Around noon on 3 April 33, it got dark, and stayed that way till Jesus died. Obviously God was behind it, but we don’t know how. No solar eclipses in that part of the world, that time of year, so that’s out. Volcanoes have been known to darken the sky. So has weather. Regardless of how he pulled it off, God decided he wanted his Son’s death to happen in the dark.

As Jesus was hanging on the cross, various folks were taunting him, and Matthew describes the head priests, scribes, and elders even taunting him with a bit of Psalm 22:

Matthew 27.43 KWL

“He follows God?

God has to rescue him now, if he wants him

—for he said ‘I’m God’s son.’ ”

Psalm 22.8 LXX (KWL)

He hopes for the Lord, who has to release him,

who has to save him because he wants him.

Considering this psalm was so obviously getting fulfilled by Jesus’s death, taunting him with it just showed how far the Judean leaders’ unbelief went. They really didn’t think the psalm applied to Jesus any. It absolutely did.

This is why, round the ninth hour after sunrise (roughly 2:30 PM) Jesus shouted out the first line of that psalm: Elí Elí, lamá azavettáni?/“My God my God, for what reason do you abandon me?” Ps 22.1 I know; it sounds different after the gospels’ authors converted it to Greek characters.

Problem is, by this point the scribes seem to have left, ’cause nobody understood a word he said. Jesus was quoting the original Hebrew, but only scribes knew Hebrew; the Judeans spoke Syriac, and the Romans spoke Greek. Since Elo’í sounds a little like Eliyáhu, “Elijah,” that’s the conclusion they leapt to: He must be calling for Elijah. So they added that to their mocking. “Wait; let’s see whether Elijah rescues him.”

In our day many Christians have leapt to a different conclusion—a heretic one. They might know Jesus was quoting scripture, but think he quoted it ’cause the Father literally, just then, did abandon him. Seriously.

Here’s the theory. When the lights went out, this was the point when Jesus became the world’s scapegoat: The sins of the entire world were placed upon his head, Lv 16.20-22 so that when he died, our sin died with him. Which is totally possible, ’cause that’s how the scapegoat ritual was meant to work in Leviticus. Thing is, the scriptures never spell out just how Jesus substitutionarily atoned for our sins, nor when the transfer was made. The world going dark just feels like a good, dramatic time for such an event to happen.

Here’s where the theory goes wonky: After this sin-transfer was made to a scapegoat, someone was supposed to turn this goat loose in the wilderness to die. In Jesus’s case, he could hardly wander off; his wrists and ankles were nailed to a cross. He could hardly wander off… so these Christians figure the Father must’ve removed himself. Others insist the Father removed himself because he finds sin so very offensive. He couldn’t bear to watch, so he dimmed the lights (as if God can’t see in the dark) and turned his face away from his beloved, but defiled, Son.

Here’s why it’s all heresy: God is One, and the trinity is indivisible. You can’t separate the Son from the Father. They’re not two seperate beings; they’re One. The rest of us humans are separate beings from the Father, yet Paul stated nothing can separate us from his love. Ro 8.38-39 So if that’s the case, how in creation could anything, even sin, separate God the Son from God the Father? Nope; not gonna work.

The idea of the Father turning his face away is popular—especially since it’s wormed its way into Christian worship music—but there’s no biblical basis for it. Just a lot of Christians who hate sin, who kinda like the idea God hating it so much he’d leave… so don’t you sin, or God’ll quit on you. It’s a great way to scare the dickens out of sinners. But if it were that easy to drive God away, you’d think the devil’s work would’ve driven God entirely off the planet. Ironically I find a lot of Calvinists, folks fond of insisting nothing’s mightier than God, likewise teaching the idea that the Father turned his face away from his innocent Son—instead of meeting the defeated enemy of sin head-on.

I could rant on, but let’s step away from the really bad theology, and quote what the gospels did say happened when the lights went out.

Jesus confuses Herod Antipas.

Luke 23.4-12.

All the gospels tell of Jesus’s suffering, but only in Luke do we find this bit about Jesus being sent to the Roman governor of the Galilee, “King” (but really tetrarch) Herod Antipas. The other gospel authors skipped it ’cause it didn’t add anything to their accounts. Doesn’t add much to Luke either. But it’s interesting.

It begins right after Pontius Pilate, Herod’s counterpart in Judea, was presented with Jesus for crucifixion. Pilate didn’t see any reason to crucify him, ’cause as John related, he figured Jesus’s kingdom wasn’t any political threat to Rome. (It did take over Rome just the same.) So Pilate didn’t feel like crucifying Jesus… and a loose comment the Judeans made, gave him the idea to hand off his inconvenient problem to Herod.

Luke 23.4-7 KWL

4Pilate tells the head priests and the crowd,

“I find nothing of guilt in this person.”

5The crowd prevails over Pilate, saying this:

“He riles up the people, teaching throughout Judea—

having begun such behavior in the Galilee.”

6On hearing this, Pilate asks whether Jesus is Galilean.

7Realizing Jesus is under Herod Antipas’s authority,

Pilate sends him to Herod;

Herod himself being in Jerusalem on that day.

Now let’s be clear. There was no rule in the Roman Empire which said if you had the subject of another province under arrest, you had to extradite him to that province’s governor. No custom either. In fact, knowing Romans, they wouldn’t wanna extradite their prisoners, lest it be considered a sign of weakness. So there were only two possible reasons for Pilate to send Jesus to Herod:

1. Passing the buck.
2. Making nice with Herod.

Because they hated one another, Lk 23.12 and we’re not told why.

Of course we can guess why: Herod Antipas figured he oughta be Judea’s king. His dad Herod 1 had overthrown King Antigonus Mattathias in 36BC, with Roman help, and taken over Israel; he was the eldest, and supposedly next in line to the throne, after his dad had executed his brothers Aristobulus and Alexander. Herod 1’s will had instead made Herod Archelaus king, so Antipas and his brother Philip appealed to Cæsar Augustus as the will’s executor. Cæsar double-crossed them, though: He overturned the will, then divided Israel into fourths, with Antipas as the ruler of one-fourth, and Cæsar himself as the ruler of Judea. Hence Antipas and Philip’s official titles were τετράρχης/tetrárhis, “ruler of a fourth.” Pilate was ruling over two-fourths of what Antipas figured he oughta be ruling.

Or maybe it was some other silly, petty reason. Whatever; they didn’t get along. But Herod had always wanted to meet Jesus, Lk 23.8 and if Pilate knew this, it was a significant gesture on his part. More likely, I’m guessing, Pilate stumbled into this gesture by a combination of dumb luck and procrastination.

Jesus confuses Pontius Pilate.

Mark 15.1-5, Matthew 27.1-2, 11-14, Luke 23.1-4, John 18.28-38.

After the Judean senate held their perfectly legal trial and sentenced Jesus to death, the Law instructed ’em to take Jesus outside the city, hurl him off a cliff, and throw stones down on his body till he was quite dead. But because the Romans had taken over Judea 27 years before, the Romans didn’t permit ’em to execute anyone. Only Romans were permitted the death penalty. So the Romans would have to kill Jesus for them.

This meant the Judean leaders had to convince Pontius Pilate, the Roman prætor—the military governor (Greek ἡγεμών/igemón, “ruler”) of Jerusalem—that it was in Rome’s best interests to execute Jesus. The prætor wasn’t just gonna execute anybody the Judeans recommended. Especially over stuff the Romans didn’t consider capital crimes, like blasphemy against a god the Romans didn’t understand, or honestly, respect. So what’d the Judeans have on Jesus?

Simple: He declared himself Messiah. Did it right in front of everybody.

Mark 14.61-64 NLT

61BThen the high priest asked him, “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?”

62Jesus said, “I AM. And you will see the Son of Man seated in the place of power at God’s right hand and coming on the clouds of heaven.”

63Then the high priest tore his clothing to show his horror and said, “Why do we need other witnesses? 64You have all heard his blasphemy. What is your verdict?”

“Guilty!” they all cried. “He deserves to die!”

Messiah (i.e. Christ) means “the anointed,” and since you only anointed kings, it straight-up means king. Jesus publicly declared himself Israel’s king. That, the Romans would consider treason: The king of Judea was Cæsar Tiberius Divi Augusti, princeps (“first citizen”) of Rome. Cæsar would have a vested interest in putting any antikings to death. So that was the charge the senate brought with them, and Jesus, to the Roman prætor.

The senators hauled Jesus to Antonia, a fort Herod 1 had built next to the temple (and named for his patron, Marcus Antonius) so soldiers could observe the Judeans in temple… just in case any riots broke out in there. The senators then presented their unrecognized true king to Pilate.

Mark 15.1 KWL

Next, in the morning, the head priests,

consulting with the elders, scribes, and the whole senate,

carry and deliver the bound Jesus

to Pontius Pilate.

Matthew 27.1-2 KWL

1As it became morning, all the head priests and people’s elders

gather in council regarding Jesus,

and how they’d put him to death.

2Binding him, they lead Jesus away

and hand him off to Pontius Pilate, the leader.

Luke 23.1-2 KWL

1Getting up, the crowd leads him to Pontius Pilate.

2They begin to accuse Jesus,

saying, “We find this man twisting our nation,

preventing taxes to be given to Cæsar,

calling himself ‘Christ’—which means king.”

In all the gospels, Pilate questioned Jesus… and came away unconvinced this man was any threat to Rome whatsoever. As Luke and John tell it, he didn’t even believe Jesus was guilty of anything. But the Judean senate wanted Jesus dead, and got plenty of the locals to say so too. In the end, Pontius pragmatically gave ’em what they wanted.

Pontius Pilate’s attitude towards Jesus.

Matthew 27.19, 24-26, John 19.7-12.

Whenever preachers talk about Pontius Pilate, I find way too many of them describe him as an uncaring government functionary or bureaucrat, who clearly didn’t care enough about Jesus to stop him from dying.

I’m not entirely sure where they got this idea. I suspect it comes from bad Jesus movies. Most of them, trying to foreshadow Jesus’s death or create dramatic tension, try to depict the people who killed Jesus as way more organized than they actually were. It works for today’s audiences, who are mainly thinking of the way their culture works, not Jesus’s. In a democracy, if rulers want to murder someone, government answers to the people, and people have rights; so it takes a lot of conspiring between corrupt officials to try to make it look like a reasonable action. But the Roman Empire was no democracy. It was a fascist dictatorship, which answered to no one. Roman citizens’ rights were recognized, but no one else’s was, and you could kill ’em simply because they were inconvenient. Jesus easily fell into that category.

The bad Jesus movies also typically depict Pilate as an unbelieving skeptic, if not nontheist. The writers must figure if Pilate were religious in any form, he’d’ve fought harder for Jesus. The most they show, is Pilate is curious about Jesus; his accusers claim he’s a revolutionary, but Jesus tells Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world” Jn 18.36 —it’s not a political kingdom; it’s not a political threat to the Roman Empire at all. So Pilate deduces Jesus isn’t a problem, and wants to let him go because he’s not, but the Judean rulers are so insistent, and Pilate doesn’t wanna rile them up, so he throws up his hands and crucifies Jesus as the path of least resistance.

All this junk worms its way into Christian sermons, because people remember movies way better than the text of the scriptures. But I’m going with the gospels, and they depict Pilate as really hesitant to have anything to do with Jesus. He’s particularly wary in John’s gospel. Here’s part of the reason why:

John 19.7-12 KWL

7The Judean leaders replied to Pilate,

“We have a Law, and according to Law,

Jesus is obligated to die,

for he makes himself out to be the son of God.”

8So when Pilate hears this word, he’s even more afraid.

9Pilate again enters the prætorium

and tells Jesus, “Where did you come from?”

Jesus gives him no answer.

10So Pilate tells Jesus, “You don’t speak to me?

Didn’t you know I have power to release you

and power to crucify you?”

11Jesus answers Pilate, “You don’t have power over me.

You have nothing—

unless it was given you from above.

This is why the one who betrayed me to you

has a greater sin.”

12ABecause of this, Pilate is seeking to release Jesus.

And in Matthew we see another part.

Matthew 27.19 KWL

As Pilate was sitting in the rostrum,

his woman sends him a message,

saying, “Have nothing between you and that righteous man.

For I am suffering greatly because of a dream about him.”

“Suffered under Pontius Pilate.”

In both the Nicene and Apostles Creed, a certain Roman official gets mentioned by name—specifically so the creeds can cement Christ Jesus’s death at a specific point in history. Σταυρωθέντα τε ὑπὲρ ἡμῶν ἐπὶ Ποντίου Πιλάτου/stavrothénta te ypér epí Pontíu Pilátu, “He was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate.”

In order to keep their neighbors from conquering them, the Hasmonean priest-kings of Judea made a protection treaty with the Romans, and Herod Antipater 1 had taken advantage of his friendship with Roman senators to get the Romans on his side when he overthrew the Hasmoneans and made himself king. But when Herod died, Caesar Augustus overturned his will, overthrew Herod’s chosen successor Herod Archelaus, split Israel into quarters, gave a quarter to the squabbling Herod brothers Philip and Antipas, and made himself king of the two most important quarters. Now Ceasar was king of Judea—and since he was busy running Rome, he sent others to govern Judea for him. Pontíus Pilátus poʊn'ti.us pi'læt.us was the sixth of these governors, in office from 26 to 36CE.

The KJV renders his name as Pontius Pilate, which Americans usually pronounce 'pɑn.tʃəs 'paɪ.lət, and since the bible tends to call him Pilate, we presume that’s his family name. Other way round: Romans did their names the same way eastern Asians do. Pontius is his nomen, the family name. Pilatus is his personal name—and y’notice the bible’s authors tended to go with personal names.

The Pilate stone, on display in Jerusalem. Wikimedia

The reason we know so much more about Pontius than his predecessors or successors, is obviously ’cause Jesus was executed under his rule, so he has our attention. We know of him from the gospels, from historians Flavius Josephus and Publius Cornelius Tacitus, and from contemporary philosopher Philo of Alexandria. Plus in 1961 archaeologist Antonio Frova found the Pilate stone, a limestone block with “Pilatus” carved on it, dating from Pontius’s term, whch confirms he’s not fiction.

Unfortunately after Jesus’s death and resurrection, a lot of Christians made up a lot of fanfiction. It means Pontius’s history beyond these first-century sources isn’t reliable. But I’ll briefly go over what we have.

Vinegar to drink.

Mark 15.23, 26, Matthew 27.33-34, 48, Luke 23.36, John 19.28-30

Back when David was in deep doo-doo, Ps 69.2 he wrote Psalm 69 to gripe about his enemies. But when he talked about his comforters, Ps 69.20 he commented,

Psalm 69.21 KWL

They gave me bitter food,

and for my thirst, they made me drink vinegar.

It’s a memorable idea, and one which no doubt the authors of the gospels thought of when Jesus was getting crucified. ’Cause Jesus didn’t wanna drink what they provided.

Our culture might be unaware: Back then, you didn’t drink the water. You never knew where it came from, and rarely was it pure. Fastest way to get dysentery or cholera. So the ancients drank wine, either full-strength or watered-down. (Or beer, if your culture made beer.) The alcohol killed any bacteria. Ignore all those teetotalers who claim “wine” back then was actually grape juice: Grape juice was as potentially harmful as water. It needed to be wine.

The gospels aren’t consistent in how they describe the wine Jesus was offered. Mark called it myrrh-wine and Matthew called it wine with χολῆς/holís, “bile.” For Luke and John, it was really old wine, which both of ’em straight-up called ὄξος/óxos, “vinegar.”

Mark 15.22-23 KWL

22 They bring Jesus to Gulgálta Place (i.e. Skull Place).

23 They’re giving Jesus myrrh-wine, which he doesn’t take.

 

Matthew 27.33-34 KWL

33 Coming to the place called Gulgálta, called Skull Place,

34 they give Jesus wine to drink—with bile mixed in,

and on tasting it he didn’t want to drink.

 

Luke 23.36 KWL

They mock him. The soldiers who came were bringing him vinegar…

John states they added hyssop, but the KJV changes John’s account to “[a branch] of hyssop,” Jn 19.29 KJV to sync it up with Mark and Matthew’s account of putting the wine in a sponge, putting the sponge on a reed (or a hyssop stick, I suppose), and offering it to Jesus. But hyssop is also a bitter extract, and may be what Matthew meant by bile. I dunno.

Mark 15.36 KWL

One of the runners, filling a sponge of vinegar,

putting it on a reed, gives Jesus a drink,

saying, “Let me do this;

we might see if Elijah comes to take him.”

 

Matthew 27.48 KWL

One runner quickly leaves them:

Taking a sponge full of vinegar,

putting it on a reed, he gives Jesus a drink.

 

John 19.28-30 KWL

28 After this Jesus, knowing everything was now finished,

says to fulfill the scripture, “I thirst.”

29 A full jar of vinegar is sitting there.

So a sponge full of vinegar, with hyssop put on it, is brought to Jesus’s mouth.

30 When he tastes the vinegar, Jesus says, “It’s finished.”

He bends his head and hands over his spirit.

Yeah, the soldiers and their runners offered Jesus vinegar more than once.

Certain commentators claim the myrrh in the wine was meant to be medicinal. Supposedly the Romans, feeling a little bad for their victims, wanted to numb them just a little to the excruciating pain of crucifixion. Man, is that optimistic of the commentators. Ask your local supplier of essential oils: Myrrh is no painkiller. It wasn’t even a folk-remedy painkiller. The ancients used it as perfume—to keep wounds and medicines from smelling bad. From there, moderns leap to the conclusion it was kind of an antiseptic—it kept wounds from getting infected and gangrenous, right? But it didn’t do that at all: It hid the smell of wounds which were getting septic. It made you worse, not better. Despite your favorite websites, myrrh has no proven purpose in medicine.

So what was it doing in the wine? Myrrh is bitter. (So’s hyssop.) It made the wine taste like bile. And when people taste bile, what do they do? They gag: It tastes like vomit. They’ll frequently even vomit.

Yep, it was the Romans’ sick little joke. The victims got thirsty and begged for wine… so you gave ’em myrrh-wine, and watched ’em freak out. Arguably that was why they put the vinegar in a sponge on a reed: It wasn’t because the crosses were impractically tall. It’s because the soldiers didn’t wanna get puked on.

What became of Judas Iscariot.

Matthew 27.3-10, Acts 1.15-26.

Technically Judas bar Simon of Kerioth, the renegade follower of Jesus whom we know as Judas Iscariot, isn’t part of the stations of the cross. Whether we’re using St. Francis or St. John Paul’s list, neither of ’em figured his situation is specifically worthy of meditation. Although we should study Judas some, ’cause he’s an example of an apostle gone wrong—an example we really don’t wanna follow. Nor repeat. But Jesus was too busy going through his own suffering to really focus on what was happening with Judas.

Judas came up when he handed Jesus over to the authorities… and in three of the gospels, that’s the last we ever hear of him. The exceptions are Matthew—and since the author of Luke also wrote Acts, it’s kinda in another gospel, ’cause Acts is about how the Holy Spirit and apostles started Jesus’s church. But that’s a whole other discussion.

Here’s the problem: For the most part, the Matthew and Acts stories contradict one another.

Not that inerrantists haven’t tried their darnedest to sync them up, and I’ll get to how they’ve tried it. But first things first: The passages.

Matthew 27.3-10 KWL

3 Upon seeing Jesus is condemned,

a repentant Judas his betrayer returned the 30 silvers

to the head priests and elders,

4 saying, “I sin by betraying innocent blood.”

They say, “What’s it have to do with us?

It’s your problem.”

5 Throwing the silver into the temple, Judas leaves,

and goes off to hang himself.

6 The head priests, taking the silver, say,

“We can’t put this in the treasury,

since it’s the value of blood.”

7 Convening, they decide to buy with it the potter’s field,

for burying strangers.

8 Thus that land is called Bloodfield to this day;

9 then the saying of the prophet Jeremiah is fulfilled,

saying, “They take the 30 silvers,

the value of the one they valued,

who was valued by Israel’s sons.

10 They give it for the potter’s field,

just as the Lord directed me.”

 

Acts 1.15-20 KWL

15 In these days, Simon Peter gets up

in the middle of the family to say,

“The crowd is more than 120 people I can name.

16 Men! Family!

We have to fulfill the scripture

the Holy Spirit foretold through David’s mouth

about Judas, who became the guide of those who arrested Jesus.

17 Judas was counted among us.

He received a place in this ministry.

18 He thus got himself a plot of land

from his unrighteous reward,

and was found face-down,

burst open, his innards all spilled out.

19 All Jerusalem’s dwellers came to know it,

so the plot’s called in their dialect Khaqal-Dema,” i.e. Bloodfield.

20 “It’s written in the book of Psalms:

‘Make his house desert, and don’t let settlers in it.’ Ps 69.25

And alternately, ‘Another person: Take his office.’” Ps 109.8

Jesus prays at Gethsemane, in 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘬.

Mark 14.32-41.

St. Francis’s stations of the cross begin with when Jesus is given his cross. (Duh; it is the stations of the cross.) But Jesus’s suffering actually began earlier, so St. John Paul’s list also begins earlier—with Gethsemane, the olive garden on Mt. Olivet, where Jesus prayed he might not go through the crucifixion. Yet in his same prayer, he prayed, rightly, God’s will be done.

Mark 14.32-41 KWL

32Jesus and his students come to a private property

whose name is Gad Smáni/“oil press.”

He tells his students, “Sit here while I pray.”

33Jesus takes Simon Peter

and James and John with him.

He begins to be distressed and troubled.

34Jesus tells his students, “My soul is intensely sad,

to the point of death.

Stay here and stay awake.”

35Going a little further,

Jesus is falling to the ground and is praying

that the hour might pass him by,

if it’s possible.

36Jesus is saying, “Abba! Father!

For you¹, everything is possible!

Take this cup away from me!

But it’s not what I will,

but what you¹ will.”

37Jesus comes and finds his students sleeping.

He tells Peter, “Simon, you’re¹ sleeping?

You¹ can’t stay awake one hour.

38Stay awake and pray!—

lest you² come to temptation.

You have a truly eager spirit—

and weak flesh.”

39Going away again, Jesus prays,

saying the same words.

40Coming back again, Jesus finds his students sleeping,

for their eyes are very heavy.

They didn’t know how to answer him.

41Jesus comes back a third time,

and tells his students, “Sleep the rest of the time.

Get your² rest.

It’s enough.

…The hour comes.

Look, the Son of Man is betrayed into sinners’ hands.”

This story comes up in the synoptic gospels. It’s not really in John, whose author had to do things his own way:

John 18.1-2 NRSVue

1After Jesus had spoken these words, he went out with his disciples across the Kidron Valley to a place where there was a garden, which he and his disciples entered. 2Now Judas, who betrayed him, also knew the place because Jesus often met there with his disciples.

John Paul recognized this is the beginning of Jesus’s passion, not when he was sentenced to death later that night. ’Cause that’s what the gospels depict: He went into the garden to pray, and suddenly it’s like he’s blindsided with emotion. It freaked him out a little. He wanted to pray; he wanted his kids to pray for him. But as people do when they’re up past their bedtime praying (and not just kids; don’t just blame this on their spiritual immaturity), they fell asleep on him. Three times.

Still, Jesus was really agitated, and John Paul recognized it’s this psychological trauma which marks where Jesus’s suffering began. Not just when he was taken away to die.