Mark 15:21-32 – The First Three Hours of the Cross

August 1, 2012

The movement of Jesus from Praetorium to the cross is known as the Via Dolorosa among the pious. But for the Romans, and in Mark’s story, it is something quite different. It is not only the depths of Christ’s sorrow and humiliation, but it is also imperial triumphalism and an imperial assertion of power.

Crucifixion was reserved for rebellious slaves, insurrectionists and crimes against the state. Crucifixion was a symbol of imperial power. The Empire imposed its will and maintained order through crucifixion. Crucifixion was as much a political testament as it was a criminal punishment. The Romans maintained their imperial power, at least in part, through the use of crucifixion as a deterrent against would-be liberators and, in the case of Palestine, would-be Messiahs.

Jesus was crucified with two “robbers” (lestas). While this term can have a broad meaning such as the “robbers” who assaulted the man on the road to Jericho in the parable of the Good Samaritan, in the context of crucifixion this does not refer to two burglars. Jesus used the term in Mark 14:48 when he questioned why the arrest party came in force with “swords and clubs” as against a “robber.” In the context of the passion story the term probably refers to a well-known feature of Palestinian banditry where a local leader basically lead a small group of armed men for his own purposes. They preyed on the rich and prepared the ground for insurrection. When the revolt came in 66 CE, two well-known social bandits came with their “armies” to defend Jerusalem. The two that hung on the right and left of Jesus were probably more like Pancho Villa than they were two jewel thieves.

The procession that led from Pilate to the cross was a display of imperial triumph. It as a different kind of triumphal procession than what Jesus had experienced earlier the week (Mark 11:1-9). This time Jesus is paraded before Jerusalem as a defeated, humiliated and tortured would-be liberator, a “king of the Jews.” This “king” was mocked by a whole battalion of imperial soldiers as a would-be “Caesar” (Mark 15:1-20) as they dressed him in purple, put a wreath crown on this head, hailed him as king and “worshipped” (paid homage) to him. The path to the cross was paved by imperial mockery and power. It was a demonstration of who was actually king–Caesar is Lord!

Jesus, perhaps due to two previous beatings (14:65; 15:15), was apparently unable to carry the crossbeam through the streets of Jerusalem to the place of execution. Simon of Cyrene was forced “to carry his cross.” From Cyrene in modern Libya, North Africa, he was probably a Jewish pilgrim to the Passover who happened to be present as Jesus passed by.

Why does Mark note this incidental detail? It is not incidental to Mark as he makes a significant theological point by including it. It seems clear that Alexander and Rufus were well-known to the community for whom Mark was written. They were disciples whose father carried the cross of Jesus. And there is the theological rub. Mark uses the same language here, “carry his cross” as he used in Mark 8:34. This Simon, rather than the Simon who denied Jesus three times, carried the cross of Jesus. Mark’s narrative book ends its story with the Simon who was the first discipled called (Mark 1:16) and the Simon who actually played the role of a disciple in the passion narrative (Mark 15:21). Discipleship entails cross-bearing.

Mark, without identifying it, follows a theological script. It is one of lament. The one described here shares the fate of the sufferer in Psalm 22. Three times Mark alludes to Psalm 22: (1) they cast lots for his garments (Psalm 22:18 /Mark 15:24); (2) Jesus is mocked by those who witness his humiliation (Psalm 22:7-8 / Mark 15:29-32); and Jesus quotes the opening line of the lament Psalm (Psalm 22:1 / Mark 15:34). Reading Mark 15 through the lens of Psalm 22 locates the mood of this section–it is one of rejection, humiliation, and abandonment. Mark does not describe the physical suffering of Jesus as much as he concentrates on public degradation of Jesus.

After describing how the imperial power has lifted Jesus upon a cross, Mark turns to his emphasis on degradation by paralleling the previous mocking by Rome (Mark 15:15-2o) with the mocking he receives at the hands of his own nation through the social bandits, the bystanders and the temple authorities. Mark uses the same word for “mocking” in 15:20 (Romans) that he uses in 15:31 (temple authorities).

Almost deliciously and yet ominously, Mark utilizes language that reminds readers of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus. The very status that James and John had requested, that is, “to be on the right and left hand” of Jesus (Mark 10:40) is the exactly the position the “robbers” take (Mark 15:28). Disciples not only take up their cross (like Simon did for Jesus) but they go to the cross with Jesus. But instead of disciples dying with him–in Mark’s narrative–mockers die with him. These mockers had pursued a different sort of kingdom than Jesus proclaimed; they used violent means. They mocked a king who refused their agenda even as they died the same death.

Just as Jesus died with those who pursued a kingdom for Israel through violence, so he was also mocked by those who maintained their kingdom for Israel through institutional and “temple” power. It is the voice of the temple authorities (chief priests) who name the language:  ”Christ, King of Israel.” They know his claim but reject it because the empire has defeated him. They had collaborated with that empire in order to maintain their own secure position. Even the bystanders recall the judicial witness against Jesus–he said he would build a temple. The chief priests and the bystanders (who were privy in some way to the court’s judgment and the testimony given) identify why Jesus is executed–it is about temple, messianic pretensions, and the power structure of the present Jewish authority.

Jesus announced salvation but what he now received was condemnation. He was condemned by the empire and he was condemned by his own nation. Rome executed him because he rivaled Caesar. The temple authorities executed him because he threatened the status quo. The “robbers” mocked him because he was a naive prophet who thought the power of Rome could be toppled through non-violence.

The first three hours of the cross are dark in mood though the sun shines in the sky. There is no hope. There is no comfort. There are no friends. All is lost. Nothing remains.

But….what happens next turns the tables…on the Romans, on the principalities and powers….it turns the cosmos right side up.  More next week.


The Tower of Babel – What’s the Problem?

July 9, 2012

What’s wrong with a tower? “We” build them all the time. In fact, “we” are even now completing one in New York City to replace the Twin Towers.

Some read the Tower of Babel story as a polemic against conformity where individuality is lost. Others read it as a judgment against the human refusal to scatter throughout the earth and fill it. Some read it as an assault on technology.  I prefer a different emphasis than these though some parts of each might have a point.

Genesis 11 is eminently datable. We know that Mesopotamians began using sun-dried bricks around 8000 BCE and that they began using fire-baked bricks between 3500-3100 BCE. We also know that the ancients began using bitumen (natural asphalt) as mortar in this same time period. This enabled the Mesopotamian culture to begin monumental building projects. They were, however, expensive since fire-baked bricks required fuel that was scarce in that region of the world. These factors date the story of Genesis 11:1-9 no earlier than 3500 BCE.

But this creates a problem. We also know that cultures in the Australia, Asia and the Americas had their own indigenous languages prior to 3500 BCE. So, how can this story–located no earlier than the fourth millennium BCE–function as an etiology for all the languages around the globe? Multiple languages existed before cultures began to erect monumental buildings with fire-baked bricks and bitumen mortar.

Let’s hold that problem to the side for a moment and we’ll come back to it at the end of the post. It is more important–and perhaps will help us with that problem–to focus on the divine-human encounter in this text. It is not a wholly gracious encounter, though grace is present. God does not wipe out humanity in this text (as he did in the flood). Instead, he moves them toward the divine project as he scatters them to fill the earth. God’s judgment here is a gracious corrective. But it is a corrective; it is judgment against the human project or agenda in this text.

What is the human agenda in Genesis 11:1-9?

At one level, it is clear that it is the opposite of the divine agenda. The “let us” of Genesis 11:3-4 stands in stark contrast with the “let us” of Genesis 1:26-28. The human agenda in Genesis 11 is self-aggrandizement, arrogance and pride. They want to make a “name” for themselves. These settlers in Shinar are themselves descendants of “Ham” rather than “Shem” (cf. Genesis 10:6-10). Ham is a cursed name but they want to reverse that–they want to become “Shem” (a name!). “Shem” is Hebrew for “name.” They want to have the “great name” (cf. Genesis 12:2) among all humans. They will manufacture it for themselves.

They will build a great monumental city with a great tower that will make their name great. Their agenda is self-centered and is set against the divine agenda. They refuse the role God gives humanity in the world and they seek to create their own value and dignity instead of receiving what God has given. They promote idolatry in the form of human self-worship.

The tower is no military lookout. Rather, the tower is a Ziggurat.  Many still exist in Mesopotamia (modern Iraq). They begin to appear no earlier than the fourth millennium BCE and are continuously built into the Babylonian era (500s). The great city of Babylon, at the time of Israel’s exile, had a massive Ziggurat dedicated to the god Marduk.

These structures were at least, and perhaps more, religious sanctuaries; they were temples for the gods. They were where earth touched heaven. As such, they are–from Israel’s perspective–idolatrous. The idolatry is present in Genesis 11 when the text says they will build a tower “with its tops (head or pinnacle) in the heavens.”

Isaiah addressed Babylon’s arrogance and idolatry in Isaiah 14 where the prophet addresses the King of Babylon. The Babylonian king, according to Isaiah, describes himself in terms that are suggestive or reminiscent of the attitudes that surround the building of the Tower of Babel:  ”I will ascend to heaven [as if to ascend the Ziggurat]; I will raise my throne above the stars of God…I will ascend to the tops of the clouds, I will make myself like the Most High” (Isaiah 14:13-14). The King of Babylon is like a Ziggurat all to himself. This is was the problem with the Tower of Babel. It was an act of self-worship that rejected God’s intent for humanity.

Just as the “descendants of Adam” (5:1-6:8) and “descendants of Noah” (6:9-9:29) began well and end badly (see my previous post on the Flood story), so the “descendants of the sons of Noah” (10:1-11:9) begin well and end badly. They begin well by scattering throughout the earth just as God intended. This created a diversity that God cherishes–different families, different languages, different cultures (10:5, 20, 31).  But these cultures become rooted in their lands, rise in arrogance, and take on arrogant projects that subvert the divine agenda within creation.

This is the problem with the Tower of Babel. It is neither the tower itself nor the unity of its people. Rather, it is the purpose for which they build the city and the tower. They committed an act of human idolatry and God ended their coherent civilization.

This brings us back to the chronological problem. Who is judged here? Is the “whole earth” judged or is Shinar judged?

When we read the “whole earth” in Genesis 11:1 we might imagine, as many have, that the writer has in view the whole globe (including the Americas, Asia and Australia). But the archaeological evidence does not permit such a reading any more than present scientific evidence permits reading Scripture in such a way that the sun revolves around the earth. But another reading is open to us that takes seriously the Babel (Babylon) context and the biblical text itself.

Israel taunts the king of Babylon in Isaiah 14 with universal (global) language. While Babylon once “ruled the nations,” now the “whole earth is at rest and quiet.”  To what does Isaiah refer when he describes the “whole earth“? He seems to mean that whatever Babylon once ruled is now at peace. In other words, Isaiah is referring to the  Babylonian Empire that ruled the ANE–it did not rule the literal “whole earth” but only the known earth as it appeared to Israel and others in that culture. Even then, literally, it was not even the whole earth of which the ancients were aware but the, as we might say, the “civilized world.”

Genesis 10 describes the scattering of the descendants of Noah’s sons throughout the earth from Europe to Africa to Asia. They develop different languages and cultures. However, the descendants of Nimrod, the son of Cush, the son of Ham, settled in Shinar (Babel) while the descendants of Shem and Japeth settled elsewhere. The text (Genesis 10) recognizes that humans were already scattered into different families, cultures and languages.  The descendants of Cush settled in Shinar. There, under Nimrod, they pursued their own agenda. They built a great civilization–coherent in language and united in purpose. They built, in essence, a civilization (Sumerian?), perhaps an empire. Their Ziggurat demonstrated their importance and significance.

Israel lived in a culture that remembered the fall of past great civilizations. Mesopotamian literature lamented the fall of the Sumerian civilization (around 2000 BCE), and there was probably the living memory of the fallen Uruk civilization in the same region (3000 BCE). Civilizations, and empires, come and go. This is the way God deals with human arrogance.

Babylonian civilization, like other ANE cultures, had their own rationales for the fall of previous civilizations and empires. Their literature explained what happened. But Israel has its own explanation.

The Tower of Babel story is Israel’s explanation for the fall of empires, perhaps even an explanation for the fall of the Sumerian civilization (see this article). Civilizations rise as they pursue the divine agenda (scattering throughout the earth, subduing the chaos within creation, and serving the creation–and all this includes the creation of culture, the use of technology, diverse languages, etc.). But they fall when human arrogance becomes mired in self-aggrandizement and self-worship.

The Tower of Babel is a counter-story. It is Israel’s rebuttal.  While Babylonian etiologies attributed the fall of past civilizations to various factors, Israel confesses that God rules the nations. Read within the context of the Babylonian exile, the Tower of Babel story is as a proleptic judgment against the arrogance of Babylon itself (cf. Isaiah 14). It is Israel’s polemic against Babylonian arrogance and against imperial pretensions.

The story still speaks. It does not condemn technology or city-building. The drama of redemption ends with a city, the new Jerusalem! Rather, it subverts the arrogance of any civilization that exalts itself and arrogates to itself the status of the kingdom of God.

[A summary of my presentation at Lipscomb University's Summer Celebration on July 6, 2012.]


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