Mark 14:12-26 – Sharing the Cup of Suffering

July 5, 2012

Just as there were two movements in Mark 14:1-11, a conspiracy to kill and a mealtime anointing in preparation for death, so there are two movements in Mark 14:12-26. The first recognizes the conspiracy along with the subsequent faithlessness of the disciples and the second describes another meal that carries the significance of Jesus’ death.

Though Mark 14:12-16, the preparation for the Passover meal, is often barely mentioned, it is significant as a “set-up” for what follows. On the one hand it links us to the conspiratorial atmosphere of the text and on the other hand it provides an explicit context for the meal itself. The conspiratorial dimension is often overlooked. A few disciples are sent into the city ahead of Jesus to prepare the Passover meal. Jesus himself does not enter the city till nightfall. In effect, Jesus avoids the crowds and the authorities. It is possible, as Myers (Binding the Strong Man, 360-361) suggests, that the signal (a man carrying water!) and pre-arranged space are part of a counter-conspiracy to protect Jesus while in the city for the Passover. In any event, the preparation is covert rather than pubic.

The procedure Jesus utilizes reminds readers of Jesus’ triumphal entry into the city where he sent disciples ahead to secure a donkey (Mark 11:2-6). The contrast between Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on Sunday and his entry on this Thursday evening is startling. In the first he is publicly hailed as a Messianic figure but now he sneaks into Jerusalem under cover of darkness. Mark’s emphasis on the arranging of the events in both chapter eleven and here underscore how he uses the two events to provide a context for understanding the words and actions of Jesus. Jesus entered the Temple as a messianic royal figure in chapter eleven but here enters Jerusalem under the threat of death as the suffering servant of Isaiah.

Further, the text identifies this meal with the Passover. We are to read the actions and words of Jesus through the lens of Passover theology. What he does and says at this meal has Passover meaning. Whatever problems and difficulties this entails in terms of comparison with other Gospels or chronology need not detain us here as we read the Gospel of Mark. Our author wants us to read this narrative against the backdrop of the Passover. This provides a hermeneutical frame for understanding the meaning of Jesus’ death.

The meal itself is described in two phrases. First, Jesus reveals his awareness of the conspiracy to kill him. Second, Jesus interprets his death. The former acknowledges the breakdown of community among his disciples which will further reveal itself when they all scatter in the wake of Jesus’ arrest, but the latter—through the solidarity of eating the bread and drinking the cup—invites the disciples to participate in his ministry, suffering and death. The latter starkly contrasts with the former.

First, Jesus acknowledges that one of his disciples will betray him to the authorities. This is an astounding announcement in the midst of a Passover meal which is designed as the fellowship of a family or intimate group. The community that Jesus has formed during his ministry with the Twelve is now breaking down and it will disintegrate before the night is over. The very meaning of the Passover meal is subverted by the betrayer. The fellowship of the meal (eating together) is colored by the darkness of betrayal.

Probably nothing could have stunned the disciples more than this news. They are first saddened and then introspective (“Is it I?”). The term that describes their grief is the same that characterizes the emotion of the Rich Young Ruler who walked away from Jesus’ invitation to follow him (cf. Mark 10:22). The disciples are disappointed, and this turns them even more inward. They begin to question their own allegiance. Perhaps they don’t even know themselves or perhaps they have done or said something that inadvertently betrayed Jesus.

As the disciples look within themselves, Jesus offers a theological interpretation of the betrayal. He alludes to Psalm 41 where the Psalmist laments that not only his “enemies whisper” against him and “imagine the worst” for him (like the Temple authorities), but that even his “close friend” whom he “trusted” and who “shared [his] bread” has also “lifted up his heel against” him. With the language of “dips the bread into the bowl with me,” Jesus is not so much identifying the betrayer as he is identifying with the Psalmist. This should have alerted the disciples to the danger of this night. The Son of Man must suffer, as Jesus as told his disciples on previous occasions (cf. Mark 10:32-45).

The word against the betrayer, “it would be better for him if he had not been born,” is not so much a condemnation or judgment as much as it is a recognition that the betrayer will wish that he had never been born. Job and Jeremiah, in quite different circumstances, felt that way. But the difference between Job and Judas was while the one endured through faith the other ended his life. This horror, however, will not only encompass Judas but the other disciples as well (e.g., Peter will deny Jesus). All the disciples will become complicit through their desertion of Jesus.

In the second phase of the meal in Mark’s story, Jesus interprets the significance of the meal that evening. Mark nowhere describes the meal but assumes it. We get no details about the length of the meal, the food at the meal or conversation surrounding the meal. In fact, Mark provides the briefest account in the Gospels. It is short, but on point. Still, the Passover contextualizes this brief interpretation and should not be read without that referential frame in mind. At the same, Mark does not highlight any memoralistic understanding of the meal (he does not say, “remember me”). Mark has another emphasis.

“While they were eating,” Mark says, Jesus (1) took bread, (2) gave thanks, (3) broke it, and (4) gave it the disciples (and a similar structure for the cup). This deliberate construction—which is repeated in other accounts—is important. It is a deliberate, interpretative act on the part of Jesus. It conforms to the breaking of the bread in a Passover mea (though here it does not begin the meal) but it is given a radically different meaning. The four-fold structure highlights a ritual which carries the meaning of the eating itself. This bread is a gift from God that is distributed to the disciples.

“This is my body” is an interpretation of the meal. It gives new meaning to the Passover without subverting its previous meaning. It is a fulfillment of the Passover. Just as the bread of the Passover represented life and liberation, so the body of Jesus gives life and liberation. Bread is what nourishes life, and the body of Christ nourishes believers. Bread is life, and it is shared life. This is a communal experience of life that is grounded in the gift of Christ’s body. In effect Jesus says “my body” will give new life to this community.

“This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many” is an allusion to the sacrificial system of Israel and the Passover context gives specific meaning to this allusion. The blood of the Lamb—as blood in the Levitical system itself—gives life. Jesus is the Passover lamb whose blood has covenantal significance. This blood is covenantal blood; it enacts covenant (or, in Hebrew, it “cuts covenant”).

Jesus’ statement is itself an allusion to at least three texts in the Hebrew Scriptures. The “blood of the covenant” takes Jewish readers back to Exodus 24 when God inaugurated his covenant with Israel at Mt. Sinai (Exodus 24:8). More significantly, it raises the horizon of Zechariah 9:9-11. Earlier Mark had alluded to Zechariah 9:9 as he described the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, and Mark builds on that allusion by aligning Zechariah 9:11 with the story of Jesus as well. Covenantal blood frees prisoners; it is liberation. The King who rides into Jerusalem on a donkey is a liberator who “proclaim[s] peace to the nations.” But this king, in the Gospel of Mark, rides to his death rather than a military action. Jesus liberates the oppressed through suffering rather than through the pursuit of violence.

The blood of Jesus is poured out to free the prisoners; it is “poured out for many.” In that phrase we encounter our third Hebrew textual allusion. Isaiah 53:12 identifies the Suffering Servant as one who “poured out his life unto death” and “bore the sin of many.” Jesus will give life through suffering and deal with sin through dying. Jesus identifies himself with the Suffering Servant of Isaiah–he suffers that Israel might go free.

The Passover meal is given a new horizon of meaning. This does not subvert its original meaning. Rather, the original meaning is taken to a new height. The Passover lamb died to liberate the firstborn from death and bring Israel out of Egyptian bondage. Jesus is the new lamb; he is the true lamb of God. Through his death, he gives new life (body) and frees us from sin (blood). The original meaning of the Passover remains but it is transformed by the new reality that dawns in the death (and resurrection) of Jesus.

The communal dimension of the Passover is likewise carried forward. They probably sang the Passover Psalms at this meal (Psalms 113-118; Mark 14:26). When Jesus takes the cup, he shares it with his disciples. They drink from the same cup. It is the cup of suffering (cf. Mark 10:39-40; 14:36). They drank it that day in solidarity with Jesus as people committed to the way of suffering even though they would shortly falter in that commitment. The cup that Jesus drank, they drank. But they will not follow Jesus to the cross.

When we eat and drink at the table of the Lord, it is the gift of life and forgiveness. It is a table of mercy. But it is also a table of commitment. As we drink the cup, we commit ourselves to the way of the cross, the way of suffering for the sake of the world. As we eat bread and drink the cup, we share a communal life that is shaped by the ministry of Jesus. This calls us to a different kind of life—one that pursues peace and reconciliation rather than violence. When we eat and drink together, we recommit ourselves to that way of life.

The table bears witness to that new life which is the reality of the kingdom of God. The reference to the kingdom in Mark 14:25 is not primarily about a messianic banquet in the new heaven and new earth but is rather about the in-breaking of the kingdom of God into the present. Jesus in the Gospel of Mark is the reality of the kingdom in the world, so the bread and wine are now the reality of the kingdom. In this new reality—the kingdom of God—Jesus eats and drinks with us. We eat and drink with the living Christ whose death has transformed life.

We eat and drink, however, as flawed disciples—just like the disciples gathered around that Thursday evening table in the upper room of Jerusalem. We falter and fail, but the table renews our life and at the table we renew our commitment.


Mark 14:1-11 — Preparation for Passion

June 27, 2012

On Sunday, Jesus had entered Jerusalem triumphantly only to walk into the temple, see everything, and then go back to Bethany apparently frustrated. On Monday Jesus returned to the temple and  angrily cleansed it. On Tuesday, as Jesus taught in the temple courts, the authorities confronted him about his actions, his relation to Rome and his theology. That day Jesus exited the temple in disgust as he saw how the temple system gave status to the rich but oppressed the poor. On his way to Bethany, Jesus sat opposite the temple on the Mt. of Olives and announced a coming judgment against it.

Apparently, on Wednesday Jesus stayed in Bethany, but on Thursday evening he would again go to Jerusalem in order to eat the Passover with his disciples. But Wednesday was a significant day—a day of preparation just as Thursday was a preparation day for the Passover as Thursday evening Jesus would eat a last Passover with his disciples. Within twenty-four hours Jesus would be buried in a tomb.

Wednesday—the day Jesus does not go to Jerusalem—is ominous. The narrative heightens the tension as it begins the passion (suffering) story of Jesus. On a day when Jesus is inactive, his opponents are not. On a day when Jesus is relaxing with his disciples in Bethany, a woman recognizes the foreboding mood and anoints Jesus for his burial. On a day when the “gospel” is proclaimed by this woman, Judas makes a deal to hand Jesus over to the temple authorities. On a day when a female disciple loves Jesus, another (male) disciple betrays him. Wednesday is preparation day for the passion of Jesus.

The narrative emphasizes the action of the woman by situating it between the intent of the authorities to kill Jesus (14:1-2) and the betrayal by Judas (14:10-11). The two book-ends contextualize the woman’s gift and shape our understanding of it.

The temple authorities want to kill Jesus but they fear a riot if they move against him publicly during the festival season Jerusalem is filled with thousands of pilgrims. Presumably they were going to wait till after the Passover or perhaps they were simply looking for a more covert way of arresting him. They seized the opportunity that Judas offered them.

It is very difficult to read the motives of Judas in this “betrayal” in Mark. Judas is one of the twelve (emphasized 3x in Mark 14:10, 20, 43). It is possible that Judas was motivated by money, but it is also possible that Judas was attempting to create a climatic confrontation between Jesus and the authorities. Perhaps he was certain that Jesus would triumph and he never thought that Jesus would actually die as a result of his actions. This would explain his eventual suicide as he bore the guilt of his misconceived plan. Or, perhaps, he was a disappointed disciple who thought Jesus’ judgment against the temple and his rejection of potential revolt against Roman oppression did not fit his idea of a Davidic Messiah. Or, perhaps he was simply greedy and was disturbed by the use of the expensive oil when the woman anointed Jesus. Whatever may be the case (and at this point the text gives us very little with which to work), Judas gave them access to the private movements of Jesus. Consequently, the authorities will be able to arrest Jesus privately in the dead of night rather than publicly at the height of the festival.

Myers (Binding the Strong Man, 359) notes, quite stunningly, that this occasion is a moment when the “politically ‘least’ (women) assumes the position of the ‘greatest’” by anointing Jesus as if she were a prophet anointing a king of Israel (e.g., Samuel anointing Saul and David). She does not anoint his feet, but his head. This is, perhaps, a Messianic anointing. It is actually quite a stunning moment if we read this way.

At the same time, this acts prepares Jesus’ body for burial. It is difficult for us to imagine the fear, excitement and tension that filled Jerusalem during those days. The anger of the temple authorities was probably well-known and their intent may have been surmised by many. This woman recognizes the danger Jesus faces and perhaps anticipates a criminal death for him as criminals generally did not receive a proper burial but were thrown into common graves. She may have even heard Jesus talking with his disciples about his coming death (though there is no record that Jesus spoke of such things after his arrival in Bethany and Jerusalem). Whatever may be the case, Jesus interprets her actions as burial preparation.

Unlike the disciples, who are seemingly oblivious to the dangers Jesus faces in Jerusalem and out of tune with their master’s earlier predictions, this woman anticipates the coming days and recognizes their danger. She alone demonstrates a loving care for Jesus in the midst of his trials about which the disciples are relatively indifferent. She affirms community with Jesus and demonstrates her solidarity with the suffering servant of Israel. The disciples, on the other hand, will shortly desert their master. While the disciples miss the “gospel” in this moment, this woman does not.

Indeed, they—“some of those present”—totally miss the point as their concern is focused on the poor and the extravagance of the gift. No doubt their concern for the poor and extravagance are shaped by their time with Jesus in his ministry, his evaluation of the widow as a victim in contrast to the wealth of other temple contributors, and the tradition that during the Passover the devout share with the poor. These are legitimate concerns, but they are overshadowed by the impending death and burial of Jesus. The woman’s demonstration of loyalty and solidarity, the messianic anointing, and the preparation for burial outweigh, in this moment, gifts for the poor.

Jesus’ statement, often misunderstood as a kind of ambivalence toward the poor, simply recognizes what the Torah does (Deuteronomy 15:11)—there will always be poor. And, indeed, there are always poor because there are always oppressors of one sort or another (though there are other reasons as well why there are poor). The poor are a legitimate concern and disciples should help them whenever they can, but this woman, according to Jesus, seized the moment, saw its import, and acted to love Jesus. She perceived that Jesus’ death was imminent.

This expensive gift is both a tender moment of love and a proclamation. The woman loved Jesus in this anointing and anointed Jesus as proclamation. The significance of the gift is noted by Jesus—the woman will be remembered wherever the “gospel” is preached.

The preaching of the “gospel”—which to this point in the narrative of Mark has been about the good news of the kingdom of God—now involves the meaning of this woman’s loving act. It is the announcement of the suffering Messiah. The one who is anointed as Messiah is also prepared—in the same act—for burial. The gospel, as Mark’s narrative climaxes, also includes the heralding of the death of Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of God. The gospel bears witness to the suffering servant of Israel. The gospel includes both the announcement of the kingdom of God and the suffering of the Son of God.


Traitor at the Table

March 12, 2006

Text: Luke 22:1-23

The betrayer sat at the table with Jesus and Jesus knew who the betrayer was. He was one of the Twelve, one of the chosen. He had cast out demons and proclaimed the coming of the kingdom. Jesus had prayed over that choice and yet Satan entered Judas’ heart and Satan won the battle.

The leaders of Israel—the powers that ruled its religion and temple—wanted to entrap Jesus so that he would lose his popularity among the people. But they had been unsuccessful. They wanted to kill him but were unable to seize him in a way that would not create a disturbance or even riot. They wanted to avoid Roman intervention, and the Romans were on heightened alert during Passover time.

And Judas provided the opportunity. He knew where Jesus spent his nights. He knew where Jesus might be taken in secret away from the public crowds that hung on his every word in the temple. So Judas arranges Jesus’ arrest and then goes to sit at table with him. Judas and Jesus eat the Passover together that night.

The table that night must have been quite a festive occasion. Oh, I know that we usually think of the Passover as a solemn, almost morbid, event, and especially the last Passover Jesus has with his disciples. It was, after all, the night on which he was betrayed and the night he announced his coming death. But Jesus also announced something wondrous that night.

The Passover was a celebratory festival which anticipated the coming reign of God as well as remembering Israel’s past deliverance from bondage. It remembered good news in the past and anticipated future good news. It was hopeful for the future as it celebrated the past. The Passover was a time of great rejoicing and excitement that brought Israel to the edge of their seat.

I believe its festive character pervaded the table that night. Indeed, Jesus’ announced good news at the beginning of the meal. At the moment, seemingly, when the host was to rehearse the meaning of the Passover (the haggadah) at the second cup of wine, Jesus announces the coming of the kingdom of God. Not that unusual except that he declares that the next time he and his disciples eat the Passover together it will be in the kingdom of God.

The disciples must have been astounded by such a statement. No doubt they have been wondering when the kingdom would come, and now they know it will come within the next year—according to their measurement of Jesus’ words. Next year, at the next Passover, they will be eating with the Master in the kingdom of God! (More than likely this generated the subsequent discussion about who was going to be the greatest in the kingdom.)

No doubt they sang the little hallel (e.g., Psalm 113) with great gusto at that moment. “Praise the Lord…The Lord is exalted above all the nations…He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap…Praise the Lord.”

Judas heard this too and no doubt sang Psalm 113 with the rest of the disciples sitting at that table. I wonder what he was thinking. I wonder if he doubted his earlier arrangement. Had he acted too soon? Or, would his act precipitate the coming kingdom? I don’t know; no one does. But he was at the table, eating with Jesus and still intending to complete the betryal.

Then, as the main meal begins, Jesus gives a new meaning to this last supper. The “supper” (eating the lamb) begins with the breaking of the bread. But with this bread Jesus reinterprets the meal. Hereafter, the Passover will be eaten in his memory. In the future, the disciples will remember Jesus. The sacrificial meal will honor his sacrifice as he gives his body for humanity. Jesus himself, rather than the lamb, will be the sacrifice. Jesus is the lamb!

Judas is still at the table. He eats the bread, and he eats the roasted lamb. The bread is for him too—the body of Jesus is given for Judas too.

Having eaten the lamb (“supper”), Jesus takes the cup which is now either the third or fourth cup of wine at the Passover meal. But the wine is no longer about Israel’s past redemption, but it is about Jesus’ own sacrifice. It is his blood and it inaugurates a new covenant. The new covenant (reminding us of Jeremiah 31) is about forgiveness, but it is also about the law written in our heart. The blood cleanses but it also makes new—and a new relationship is enacted between God and his people.

And Judas is at the table. His hand is on the same table with Jesus. He drinks the cup—the blood is poured out for him too.

But Judas is the betrayer, though he sits at the table as one of the disciples. He sings the Psalms of redemption (e.g., Psalms 114-118). He sings “this is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” He eats the bread and drinks the cup; and he sings the songs. He listens to the Master…but his heart is in another place. He has a different agenda.

Sound familiar? To what extent are we all Judas today as we sit at this table with Jesus? Do we eat and drink with divided hearts? Do we sing the songs and hear the word only to dismiss their meaning for the sake of our own agendas? To what extent do we eat and drink with our own agenda instead of in covenant with Jesus?

Table time is covenant time. It is when we renew our pledge to God and God renews his pledge to us. It is a time of communion, but also rededication. It is a time to again choose whom we will serve. It is a time of covenant renewal—God renewing his covenant with us (“this is my body given for you” and “this is my blood poured out for you”) as we renew covenant with him.

But even in this moment of talk about betrayal there is hope. Yes, the Son of Man will die, but he is the Son of Man. He is the eschatological human who breaks in from the future to declare the coming kingdom of God. The Son of Man dies but the kingdom will come!

Yes, “this is my body” and “this is my blood.” Yes, the lamb is sacrificed for the sins of the world. But Jesus will eat and drink again with his disciples when the kingdom of God comes. Death is not the end. The grave is not the final stop. Though he suffers, the Son of Man will enter glory and the kingdom will come. The joy of the kingdom will conquer death, and Sunday will transform Friday. On Sunday, Jesus ate with his disciples again, and even now the living Christ, the eschatological Son of Man, eats with his disciples. But let us be vigilant lest we ourselves are Judas at that table. Let us eat in faith and hope and commitment.


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