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.

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.

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.

Simon Peter denounces Jesus.

Mark 14.66-72, Matthew 26.69-75, Luke 22.54-62, John 18.15-18, 25-27.

After dinner earlier that night, Jesus told his students they weren’t gonna follow him much longer; they’d scatter. At this point Jesus’s best student, Simon Peter, got up and foolhardily claimed this prediction didn’t apply to him.

Mark 14.29-31 KWL

29 Simon Peter told him, “If everyone else will get tripped up, it won’t include me.”

30 Jesus told him, “Amen, I promise you today, this night,

before the rooster crows twice, you’ll renounce me thrice.”

31 Peter said emphatically, “Even if I have to die for you,

I will never renounce you.” Everyone else said likewise.

And y’know, Peter wasn’t kidding. I’ve heard way too many sermons which mock Peter for this, who claim he was all talk. Thing is, he really wasn’t. When Jesus was arrested, Peter was packing a machete, and used it. Slashed a guy’s ear clean off. You don’t start swinging a work knife at a mob unless you’re willing to risk life and limb. Peter really was ready to fight to the death for Jesus.

But Jesus’s response was to cure the guy, then rebuke Peter: Jesus could stop his arrest at any time, but chose not to. Having a weapon was only gonna get Peter killed. Peter thought he was following God’s will, but he was in fact tripping up. And Jesus did say his students σκανδαλισθήσεσθε/skandalisthísesthe, “would be tripped up,” by the later events of that day. Despite his repeated warnings he was gonna die, his students kept expecting the Pharisee version of the End Times to unfold, where Messiah would destroy the Romans and take his throne… and instead Messiah got killed by the Romans.

This sort of turn of events would knock the zeal right out of anyone. Y’know how Peter later would up saying he didn’t know Jesus? At the time, he kinda didn’t. Thought he did; totally got him wrong. We all do, sometimes.

See, Peter was having a crisis of faith. Every Christian, if they’re truly following Jesus, is gonna have a point in our lives where we have to get rid of our immature misunderstandings about Jesus. And some of us fight tooth ’n nail to keep those misunderstandings. Even enshrine ’em. But in so doing, it means we’re not gonna grow in Christ any further. The Holy Spirit is trying to get us over that stumbling block, but we insist it’s not a block; it’s a wall.

To his credit, Peter didn’t scatter. He followed the mob, who took Jesus to the former head priest’s house, where Jesus had his unofficial trial before the proper trial before the Judean senate.

John 18.15-18 KWL

15 Simon Peter and another student followed Jesus.

That student was known by the head priest.

He went in, with Jesus, to the head priest’s courtyard.

16 Peter stood at the door outside.

So the other student, known to the head priest, came out and spoke to the doorman, who brought Peter in.

17 The doorman, a slavewoman, told Peter, “Aren’t you also one of this person’s students?”

Peter said, “I’m not.”

18 The slaves and servants stationed there had made a charcoal fire; it was cold.

They warmed themselves. Peter was also with them, standing and warming.

This’d be the first denial. But Jesus didn’t just say Peter would deny him, or pretend he didn’t know him, or pretend he didn’t follow him. Peter ἀπαρνήσῃ/aparnísi, “will entirely reject,” will renounce, his Lord. Mk 14.30 It’s not a white lie so he could merely stay out of trouble; Peter went overboard and publicly quit Jesus. Really.

Good thing he could take it back. As can we. But, y’know, don’t quit him, okay?

The crowd shouts for Barabbas.

Mark 15.6-11, Matthew 27.15-21, Luke 23.17-25, John 18.39-40.

We actually have nothing in the Roman records about this custom the Roman governors had of releasing a prisoner every Passover. Doesn’t mean they didn’t do it; just means they kept it off the books. Which is understandable. Fleshly people tend to think of mercy and forgiveness as weakness, not strength; of compassion and generosity as something that other people will take advantage of, not benevolence. “If you give a mouse a cookie” and all that.

Anyway we have four historical records which indicate the Romans totally did free a prisoner every Passover: The gospels. Apparently Pontius Pilate had on hand an guy named Jesus bar Avvá, who’d been arrested during “the riot.” We don’t know which riot, and Christians like to speculate it was one of the more famous ones, but it had to have been fairly recent: Romans didn’t keep people in prison for long. They either held them for trial, flogged and released them, or crucified them.

Pontius wanted to free Jesus. But, probably ’cause Jesus is totally guilty of calling himself Messiah, Pontius didn’t wanna free him on his own authority. It might get back to Caesar Tiberius that he freed a self-proclaimed king. So he wanted an excuse, or to pass the buck to Herod. Likely that’s why he went with the whole free-a-convict-for-Passover thing: “Hey, why not Jesus?”

Well because they didn’t want Jesus; or at least that was the sentiment of the crowd the head priests brought in. Pontius gave them the option of Jesus the Nazarene, or Jesus bar Avvá. They went with bar-Avvá.

Mark 15.6-11 KWL

6 During the feast Pilatus would release one prisoner to them; whomever they asked.

7 There was one called bar-Avvá among the insurrectionists, imprisoned during the riot for committing murder.

8 Rising up, the crowd began to ask, as usual, for Pilatus to do for them.

9 In reply Pilatus told them, “You want me to free for you ‘the Judean king’?”

10 —knowing the head priests turned Jesus in out of envy.

11 The head priests incited the crowd to instead ask that bar-Avvá might be released to them.

 

Matthew 27.15-21 KWL

15 During the feast the prefect was accustomed to release one prisoner to them; whomever they wanted.

16 He then had a famous prisoner, called Jesus bar Avvá.

17 So Pilatus told the people who’d gathered for him, “Whom do you want me to release to you?—Jesus bar Avvá, or Jesus called Messiah?”

18 —knowing the head priests turned Jesus in out of envy.

19 (As he was sitting on the dais, his wife sent him a message:

“Keep away from that righteous man, for I saw many things in a dream about him.”)

20 The head priests and elders convinced the crowd to ask for bar-Avvá, and for Jesus’s destruction.

21 In reply the prefect told them, “Whom of the two do you want me to release to you?” They said, “Bar-Avvá.”

 

Luke 23.17-25 KWL

17 [He had to release one prisoner to them during the feast.]

18 The Judeans shouted out together, “Take this man away and release bar-Avvá to us!”

19 Bar-Avvá was thrown into prison because of a certain riot in the city, and murder.

20 Pilatus addressed them again, wanting to release Jesus,

21 and the crowd shouted back, saying, “Crucify! Crucify him!”

22 Pilatus told them thrice, “Why? Did this man do evil?

Nothing worth death was done by him. So I will punish and release him.”

23 The crowd insisted with loud voices, calling for Jesus to be crucified, and their voices prevailed.

24 Pilatus sentenced Jesus to have done as the crowd requested.

25 He released the one they requested, who was thrown into prison for riot and murder,

and Jesus was surrendered to the people’s will.

 

John 18.39-40 KWL

39 It’s your custom that one prisoner might be released to you on Passover,

so do you want me to release to you ‘the Judean king’?”

40 So they shouted again, saying, “Not him, but bar-Avvá!” (Bar-Avvá was a looter.)

Who’s bar-Avvá?

The gospels don’t give us much on who bar-Avvá is, mainly because they don’t really care.

The word in our bibles is Βαραββᾶς/Varavvás (KJV “Barabbas”), which is a transliteration of the Aramaic בַּר אַבה/bar Avvá, “son of Avvá.” Yes, Avvá was a proper Hebrew name back then, but loads of Christians like to make much of the fact the word also means “father,” and therefore “bar-Avvá” literally means “son of a father.” And hey, isn’t Jesus’s dad our heavenly Father? What an interesting contrast! But nah, it’s not all that interesting.

In some copies of Matthew, bar-Avvá’s given name is Jesus. Mt 16.18 NIV True, “Jesus” isn’t in the earliest copies of Matthew, and the earliest reference is the Codex Vaticanus, written in the early 300s. The reason it was probably dropped from those early copies is because the New Testament copyists tried to avoid referring to anybody other than Christ Jesus as “Jesus.” But tradition preserved bar-Avvá’s given name—and again there’s that interesting contrast between the two Jesuses. One’s a murderer; the other offers to save everyone from death. Jn 3.16

Bar-Avvá was arrested during a recent riot, for murder Mk 15.7 and looting. Jn 18.40 He was imprisoned among the insurrectionists, and that’s led various people to jump to the conclusion he was an insurrectionist; possibly one of the nativists who called themselves “Canaanites,” Mk 3.18, Mt 10.4 KJV or in Greek ζηλωτής/zilotís, “Zealots,” Lk 6.15, Ac 1.13 who wanted the Romans gone, and were willing to kill to get it. Bar-Avvá did commit murder after all; maybe he murdered a Roman.

But likely not. Pontius wouldn’t have suggested his name, or even considered him a possibility, if bar-Avvá murdered a Roman. He’d have been crucified the same day. More likely bar-Avvá took advantage of a riot and confusion to murder someone, and probably someone prominent, which is why he was now famous. Or maybe he was already prominent—a celebrity’s kid, or otherwise had prominent connections, which might explain why the Romans hadn’t yet crucified him.

Of course the Jesus movies like to depict him as a hardened criminal, a highwayman and bandit, a tough guy who was thrilled the crowd was shouting for him instead of that pacifist Nazarene sissy. Or maybe he took a look at Jesus and was magically struck with conviction—“why, this man is clearly innocent, even though I’ve never met him before and someone beat the tar out of him and all my cultural biases should be telling me the universe is punishing him”—or however the screenwriters like to play with the character. Me, I’m more interested in historical accuracy. Human nature dictates bar-Avvá really didn’t wanna get crucified, and didn’t care who took his place so long that he got to live. Beyond this story, we never hear of him again.

Jesus’s suffering.

Now of course Jesus didn’t wanna get crucified either. But he had accepted his coming death as an inevitability. The chance he might be pardoned, only existed in Pontius’s mind—and in the worries of the senators who wanted Jesus dead. Didn’t exist in Jesus’s. So really all this free-a-convict-for-Passover thingy did was delay the inevitable.

But you know Satan would’ve used it as a temptation: “Look, there’s a chance you might get freed! You won’t have to go through crucifixion! You’ll only get off with a flogging; shouldn’t that be enough?” Assuming the devil understood Jesus was trying to achieve atonement though his death; I don’t know what it knew or didn’t know, but it’s a good bet the devil wanted to frustrate anything Jesus was up to, or at least prolong the misery. If Jesus was determined to die, may as well dangle the possibility he might not.

And no, it’s not fun to hear a crowd reject you in favor of a really undeserving, truly bad guy. No matter the situation.

The crowd shouts for crucifixion.

Mark 15.8-14, Matthew 27.20-23, Luke 23.18-25, John 18.38-40.

When Jesus stood trial before Pontius Pilate, the Roman prefect quickly realized Jesus was no insurrectionist. Jesus’s claim of being Judea’s king was no political threat to the Roman senate and emperor. Case dismissed.

Except it wasn’t, because the Judean senators had somehow got a crowd together which was calling for Jesus’s death. And the easiest way to get Romans in a murdery mood is to disturb their peace. That’s the one thing Romans valued most: Social stability. Not actual peace, like Jesus gives us; just the appearance of peace, where nobody grumbles too loud, would do for them. And if they didn’t get it, they’d crucify everybody till they did.

The head priests knew this, so of course they got a crowd together, and made sure they were good and noisy.

Mark 15.8-14 KWL

8 Rising up, the crowd began to ask, as usual, for Pilatus to do for them.

9 In reply Pilatus told them, “You want me to free for you ‘the Judean king’?”

10 —knowing the head priests turned Jesus in out of spite.

11 The head priests incited the crowd to instead ask that bar-Avvá might be released to them.

12 In reply Pilatus again told them, “So what ought I do with the one called ‘the Judean king’?

13 The crowd shouted again, “Crucify him.”

14 Pilatus told them, “Why? Did he do evil?” But they shouted “Crucify him” all the more.

 

Matthew 27.20-23 KWL

20 The head priests and elders convinced the crowd to ask for bar-Avvá, and for Jesus’s destruction.

21 In reply the prefect told them, “Whom of the two do you want me to release to you?” They said, “Bar-Avvá.”

22 Pilatus told them, “So what will I do with Jesus called Messiah?” All said, “Crucify.”

23 Pilatus said, “Why? Did he do evil?” But they shouted “Crucify!” all the more.

 

Luke 23.18-25 KWL

18 The Judeans shouted out together, “Take this man away and release bar-Avvá to us!”

19 Bar-Avvá was thrown into prison because of a certain riot in the city, and murder.

20 Pilatus addressed them again, wanting to release Jesus,

21 and the crowd shouted back, saying, “Crucify! Crucify him!”

22 Pilatus told them thrice, “Why? Did this man do evil?

Nothing worth death was done by him. So I will punish and release him.”

23 The crowd insisted with loud voices, calling for Jesus to be crucified, and their voices prevailed.

24 Pilatus sentenced Jesus to have done as the crowd requested.

25 He released the one they requested, who was thrown into prison for riot and murder,

and Jesus was surrendered to the people’s will.

 

John 18.38-40 KWL

38 Pilatus told Jesus, “What’s ‘truth’?”

This said, he went out again to the Judeans and told them, “I find nothing in him of cause.

39 It’s your custom that one prisoner might be released to you on Passover,

so do you want me to release to you ‘the Judean king’?”

40 So they shouted again, saying, “Not him, but bar-Avvá!” (Bar-Avvá was a looter.)

41 So then Pilatus took Jesus and flogged him.

More about bar-Avvá another time.

The crowd’s constitution.

Preachers are mighty fond of claiming the crowd which asked for bar-Avvá to be freed, and for Jesus to be crucified, was the very same crowd which hailed Jesus on Palm Sunday. We have no evidence of that whatsoever, but these preachers love the idea of the crowd turning on Jesus; praising him one day, rejecting him the next, much like the students who rejected him after he told them to eat him. Denouncing hypocrites is fun, so this old claim manages to worm its way into every Holy Week message. But it’s likely rubbish.

Ancient Jerusalem was a big city. Ordinarily 40,000 people lived there, which means you could put together a dozen massive Jesus-denying crowds with entirely different people in ’em, same as such a population nowadays can easily host a dozen Jesus-affirming churches. But y’might remember Passover was going on, which every adult male Israelite was commanded to attend. Ex 23.17 During the Jewish War, which started during one of the mandatory festivals, Josephus stated the city physically held more than 125,000 people. Granted some people might’ve been in both crowds, but certainly not all. And if the head priests gathered this crowd, these definitely wouldn’t be Jesus fans.

Also bear in mind the Romans’ fort, Antonia, couldn’t hold a crowd of thousands. The temple, which Antonia overlooked, could; but no matter how much the head priests wanted Jesus dead, it’s extremely unlikely they’d have used the temple courts to host a crowd shouting “Crucify him!” So the size of this crowd wasn’t as vast as the Jesus movies make it look; we’re only talking 300 people at the very most. Even without shouting they’d make a lot of noise, but they only needed to be just noisy enough to sway Pontius. Which they did.

The other consideration is this was Friday, 3 April 33, the day before Passover and the day before Sabbath, and therefore a day you were super busy getting ready. You had to get your lamb killed and skinned and roasted; you had to go to temple for your ritual sacrifices (and get in line, ’cause there were tons of other Israelite families with Passover sacrifices, but only so many priests, and just the one altar); and if you had to go to temple it meant you had to get ritually clean the day before, and stay ritually clean till you got to temple, and couldn’t risk becoming ritually unclean by gathering in a crowded Roman fortress where there’d be a bunch of uncircumcised pork-eating soldiers who touched dead things and blood and didn’t wash their hands. So the crowd had to consist of people who finished their temple rituals first thing in the morning… and who wouldn’t mind getting ritually unclean for a little while, and do the head priests a favor.

Likewise people who didn’t have a problem getting one of their fellow Israelites crucified by the Romans. Who didn’t really have a problem with the Roman occupation period; who might’ve even profited off it. Who didn’t just reject the idea of Jesus as Messiah, but may not have even believed any Messiah was coming, like Sadducees. And since the head priests were Sadducees themselves, maybe they handpicked a crowd of fellow Sadducees. The gospels don’t say… but if the entire crowd would Sadducee, they absolutely wouldn’t have among the crowd cheering Jesus at Palm Sunday, ’cause shouting Hosanna to an incoming Messiah is way more of a Pharisee thing.

Jesus represents a total overhaul of the status quo. (Including our own.) If the crowd had more to lose by such changes, they’d shout all the more for Jesus’s destruction. And so it appears they did.

Jesus’s suffering.

In these stations of the cross articles we’re looking particularly at how Jesus suffered. And of course he suffered in hearing the crowds call for his death. He didn’t wanna die. Definitely didn’t wanna be crucified. But this was the sort of death he knew was coming; it was part of the Father’s plan, and the Father’s plan is his plan too.

And he came to save this crowd too. He wants everybody to be saved, 1Ti 2.4 even the ones who wanted him dead, even the people today who want him and Christianity gone, and would crucify him again if they could get their hands on him. It’s a pity they resisted his grace; it’s a pity people still resist it. It just goes to demonstrate how messed up humanity is. Obviously we need a savior—who isn’t gonna let us, killing him, stop him from saving us regardless.