Monday, December 16, 2013

Matthew: Chapters 26 to 28

Click here for the previous part of Matthew.


CHAPTER 26

OK, now we move into the final moments of Christ’s life.  The teachings are done – now it’s just the countdown until his death.  Christ is talking to his apostles and he lays some big news on them – he knows that one of them will betray him.  They’re freaked out, and all deny that they would ever do such a thing.  The priests want Christ dead, but won’t move on him without an inside man, to ensure the people don’t riot. 

Oh, and Christ can even give them a time line. Two days from now will be Passover, the Christ will be handed over then.  OK, here’s one thing I know about the gospels – they disagree on exactly when Christ dies.  One has him dying on Passover itself, and another has it a day before or after.  (I’m not sure which off the top of my head).  I forget the symbolism of the latter, but the symbolism of Christ going down on Passover is pretty clear: he’s the sacrificial lamb.

But, in his final two days, he has something nice down for him.  A woman puts perfumed oil on him.  The woman isn’t named.  I’ve heard it was Mary Magdalane, but that must be in a different gospel.  In fact, we haven’t heard Mary M.’s name come up at all yet in Matthew, and we’re running out of gospel. 

Well, the apostles are horrified.  This is a waste of resources!  The money used to this could’ve been given to the poor.  Christ is nonplussed, “The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me.  In pouring this perfumed oil upon my body, she did it to prepare me for burial.”  The Bible doesn’t record how the apostles respond to this rebuttal, but I have mixed feelings myself.  On the one hand, I can’t blame someone for wanting a little bit of indulgence shortly before he’s about to die.  That’s only human after all.  Yeah – but that’s the other hand.  Christ is supposed to be more than human, isn’t he?  And the idea of a leader saying, you’ll always have the poor, but not me, so enjoy me while I last – that’s a damn distasteful image.  (It’s another point on behalf of the historical Jesus.  If he weren’t real, what purpose would it serve to make up a story like this?)

Well, we don’t know how the apostles react, but we do know this – right after the perfumed oil incident – Judas betrays Jesus.  He gets a payment of 30 silver pieces.  His reasons aren’t given, but the placement leads one to think it’s the oil part that pissed off Judas.

OK, here is where Christ tells the apostles that one of him has betrayed him.  (Previously, he just told them he would be taken and crucified). 

Next comes one of the most famous moments in the Bible – and one I really don’t know what to think about – the Last Supper. Apparently, Jesus knows he isn’t long for this world.  He knows the priests are out to get him, and the powers that be are closing in.  He wants one last ritual to leave with his apostles.  This night apparently leaves a big mark on them, for it makes all of the gospels and is big in St. Paul’s writings as well.  Take the bread and eat it, for this is my body.  Take this wine and drink it, for this is my blood. 

Um…..ew.  The Catholic Church has always maintained that this is to be taken literally – transubstantiation.  I believe Martin Luther agrees, but most other Protestants don’t.  But – what is Christ’s point here?  What does he want?  This practice will give the Christians a reputation for cannibalism in the early Roman Empire.  Regardless of whether it’s supposed to be a symbolic act or actual transubstantiation, I guess the point is that you’re supposed to internalize Christ.  You don’t just say you do, it requires an actual act.  Did Christ think it was literal flesh/blood digestion?  Well, either interpretation can be seen.  I’ll just note he says nothing to indicate its just symbolism. 

Now Christ tells Peter that he’ll deny Jesus three times before morning – “before the cock crows.”  Of course, that’ll later happen.  In Peter’s defense, when it does happen, it can easily be argued that he’s under arrest.  His master has been captured, the bad guys are out in full force.  Peter is trying to avoid being killed.  That’s a very human emotion – but then again this is a religious that’ll put a premium on being a martyr to the cause.  Jesus even told them two chapters ago that they’ll be persecuted, but that the righteous man will stay with Christ to the end.  I suppose part of the appeal of Peter’s denial is a sign that even the most steadfast person – the rock upon which Christ will found his church – can slip.  But just because you slip, doesn’t mean that you’re doomed. 

Christ goes to pray by himself, and when he returns he finds out that all of his apostles have fallen asleep.  They explain themselves saying, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”  Oh – this is where that line comes from?  I had no idea.  Jesus keeps going out to pray, and they keep falling asleep.  Fear of imminent capture and crucifixion gives someone insomnia, I see.

Then it happens – Christ is captured.  Judas comes in and gives the sign – he kisses Christ.  A few things about that. First, despite all that Christ ahs done in Jerusalem, the priests still can’t recognize him – that’s why they need the kiss to have him tipped off to them.  Well, it’s dark, and lots of guys have long hair back then, so OK.  But second, this tells us about the social mores on kissing.  First, it was around 2,000 years ago.  Second, it was acceptable for one man to kiss another in a public setting as a sign of respect and even love – but not necessarily sexual love. 

Christ knows the score (he’s no Fredo Corelone) and says “Friend, do what you have come for.”  The inclusion of the word “Friend” in that line is effective.  Judas might be stabbing him in the back, but Christ can stab him with kind words – what Martin Luther King Jr. once called “the weapon of love.”  Still, when the arrest happens, a skirmish breaks out, and the head priest loses an ear.  Bummer.  Christ tells everyone to chill.  If he wanted to stop it, he could have a host of angels come down, but no – that ain’t right.  This is something he must do. 

Has he ever said he must do this to redeem all the sins of mankind?  I haven’t heard that.  That’s the St. Paul theology.  For Christ, the Son of Man must die so that he can come back to life and bring about the kingdom of heaven.  That’s what it sounds like to me in Matthew.  Yeah, it all goes back to what Christ means by that phrase: is it something in this earth or in the next life?  Frankly, it sounds more like the former in Matthew, though obviously the tradition is the latter.  That’s my take on it, anyway.

Christ now faces his accusers.  He’s initially silent, but then they ask the $64,000 question: are you the Messiah.  His reply, “You have said so, but I tell you: from now on you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of the Power, and coming on the clouds of heaven.” 

That’s it.  That’s the answer that earns him crucifixion.  They are all really pissed at it, and that’s it for Christ.  Reading it – and even typing it – I don’t quite see it.  This reads (to me) as another of his elliptical answers.  This is no smoking gun – except that somehow it apparently was.  In the Gospel of Matthew, Christ tells his apostles who he is, but aside from that, this is close as he ever gets to revealing his secret identity. 

Oh, and then the chapter – a really long one, 75 verses – ends with Peter thrice denying Christ.  When the cock crows, he realizes what he’s done and goes out to weep bitterly.  So the entire chapter took place in one night.   Duly noted.

CHAPTER 27

Enter Pontius Pilate.  He’s the governor and Christ is now before him.  Matthew portrays him in a sympathetic light.  As a general rule of thumb, the better Pilate comes off, the most antagonistic the gospel is toward Jews.  After all, since Christ is going to be executed, someone must be responsible for that.  If not Pilate, then the Jews.  Also, the better Pilate comes off, the more the gospel writer is trying to appeal to Gentiles.  Arguably all the gospels are influenced by St. Paul in that he was the guy who really tried to convert Gentiles, and the gospels by and large lean in that direction.  That’s certainly the case here.

Please note the portrayal of Pilate isn’t very historically accurate.  Here, he’s a man who doesn’t want to unjustly execute an innocent man.  In reality, he was a hard-charging Roman authority who was willing to break a few eggs in make his omelet.  If some innocent men die to preserve order, well that’s fine.  Here, he comes off like a man primarily concerned with justice.  It’s like he is some sort of Confucian scholar or something.  Hardly.

Actually, before the Pilate-Jesus exchange really gets going, Judas kills himself.  He has immediate regrets over the betrayal (that “Friend, do what you have come for” must’ve really shaken him).  It doesn’t sound like the betrayal was that well thought out – I guess he was just annoyed over Christ misusing the perfumed oil and overreacted badly.  The Bible doesn’t really say what causes Judas’s massive change of heart, so we just have to guess.  But he flings his 30 silver pieces into the temple and kills himself. 

The Bible tells us the priests use the money to buy a field, and it’s called the Field of Blood “even today.”  A couple things about that.  First off, by saying “even today” – that indicates that this gospel is in fact written a ways after the death of Christ.  That lends credence to the notion that this was written after the destruction of Jerusalem.  Second, who calls it that?  Is it the Christian community only that calls it that?  In that case, I can buy the name.  But if it’s just a general name for it, then I’m reminded of the Book of Joshua.  Many of the stories in that book were written to explain things in Judah that predate known records.  For instance, they had the ruins of Jericho, so what happened there?  Oh, I guess Joshua led our people over its inhabitants.  Well, actually its walls crumbled well before anyone ever skedaddled from Egypt, so that can’t be it.  They just invented a story to explain the ruins.  Similarly, I can see a place called Field of Blood and Christians making up this story.  So there are two possible scenarios to explain this.

Oh, before moving on, Matthew informs us that the end of Judas fulfills a prophecy from Jeremiah about taking 30 silver pieces and blah blah blah.  I’m not going to bother re-telling the entire prophecy, because it bears no relation whatsoever to any prophecy Jeremiah actually said.  Matthew likes pointing out how the life of Jesus fulfills the words of the ancient prophets, but he doesn’t always know what they actually said.  He has some knowledge, but it’s imperfect.  Hey – I can relate!  I’m doing the same thing here with this project.

Anyhow, Pilate interrogates Jesus.  Are you king of the Jews?  “You say so.”  Not much of an answer.  Christ refuses to answer beyond that, “so that the governor was greatly amazed.”  I don’t quite get what’s so amazing about that.  Is he being tortured?  Then note it.  Otherwise, Christ is like a bunch of suspects on Law & Order. 

Now Pilate does whatever he can to wash his hands of the affair – including literally washing his hands of the affair.  Again, the historical Pilate wouldn’t be too upset about something like this.  He’d consider it at most something needed to preserve order – and that’s what he cared about most of all.  This story is in here just to make the Jews look back.  You can see the roots of Christian anti-Semitism in stories like this. 

In fact, Pilate makes an offer.  He has a second prisoner – a notorious criminal called Barabbas.  He gives the crowd a choice, as part of a Passover feast tradition; the governor would free one prisoner that the masses wished.  He gives them too choices: Christ of Barabbas.  “Barabbas!”  Pilate is stunned, asking what evil Christ has done, calling him a righteous man.  But they just yell that much more for the notorious criminal.  In fact, Pilate decides to have Jesus crucified just to avoid a possible riot. 

I’m not sure any of this rings true.  First – the Romans have a policy of letting their subject people pick someone to free each year?  Really?  I don’t really know enough to say if it’s true or not, but is smacks of literary invention.  Second, how come there are only two prisoners to choose from?  Shouldn’t they have more?  Monty Python did in the Life of Brian.  And even if the crowd hated Christ, would they really shout that loudly for Barabbas. In US elections when we don’t like either choice, we don’t get really hyped up for the guy we detest least. 

And how about this – just last chapter we heard that the priests were afraid to make a move on Jesus “that there may not be a riot among the people.”  That was Matthew 26:5, when the priests were afraid of the masses, but not the masses are doing the bidding of the priests.  What is going on here? 

Simple.  What’s going on is that the story of Barabbas is written – as the entire Pilate cycle of stories is written – to make us blame the Jews for Christ’s death and absolve the secular Roman authorities. 

If you think about it, hat last paragraph above is the best evidence of all that this gospel was written after the failed Jewish rebellion.  Then, Rome crushed a big revolt in Judah with a maximum of force.  And a few years earlier, the same Rome persecuted some Christians after the big Roman fire of 64 AD.  In that environment, it’s very easy to imagine scenarios in which Rome really clamped down on this movement – a movement dedicated to worshipping a man executed by the state as a rebel (being “King of the Jews” in a Roman province is a threat to their power) in a land which just had the biggest uprising Rome had in decades.  Yeah, the Christians really got to watch their step with Roman authorities.  So now Matthew wants to make perfectly clear – as clear as can be made – that the Romans are A-OK.  Sure, our Messiah was executed by a Roman governor – but he was forced into it.  The guys that forced his hand?  Those same insolent Jews that a generation later had the audacity to rebel violently against Rome.  Throughout much of this gospel, I’ve been interpreting its views toward gentiles and Jews based on who they wanted to convert.  While that matters, what also matters is just surviving in this environment.

So yeah, this book was written after the big revolt.

Also: if the goal is to free one prisoner for the big Passover feast, which means that Christ is symbolically the sacrificial lamb.  Good one, Bible.

Now we reach the sad, final moments of Christ.  He is beaten and struck in the head by the Roman soldiers.  He is spat upon.  He is made to wear the crown of thorns. It’s all the nasty things we know happen as he heads off to his death.  One oddity happens: he doesn’t bear the cross himself.  Someone names Simon carries Christ’s cross.  I assume some other gospels will have Jesus do it himself, as that’s the more familiar story.

Finally, Christ is nailed to his cross and hung up.  Two revolutionaries are beside him.  Yup, my Bible uses the word revolutionaries.  Normally, it’s criminals or thieves or something.  I don’t think there was much difference to the Roman authorities.  I assume they were zealots – political revolutionaries who advocated the use of violence to achieve their ends. 

While Christ is on the cross, people come up and mock him.  If you’re so incredibly the Son of God  - prove it!  Save yourself, Messiah!  The priests come by with the elders just to mock him.  Jeez, that’s really low class.  You’d figure the leaders of society wouldn’t bother to do that.  Usually big shots let that stuff go.  These must be some real low class big shots; some ancient Jewish priestly Donald Trumps.  Even the guys crucified alongside Christ insult him in the same way.

This is a really dark scene.  You get a sense of tremendous isolation here.  He is dying, in incredible pain, and everyone goes out of their way to treat him like shit.  He gets the worst of it all – mental pain, physical pain, and that combined with his isolated position leads to spiritual pain.  At this time, Christ makes his famous cry, “My God, my god, why have you forsaken me?” 

This is likely written with the persecuted people of the early Christian church in mind.  They know what it’s like to be mocked and denigrated by all around them.  They’ve felt that.  They’ve felt forsaken.  So it likely makes them feel some solace to know that even Jesus Christ felt the same way.  (Also, it’s another sign for the historical reality of Jesus Christ.  If he weren’t real – who would imagine him saying that on the cross?  Yes, I just gave a reason in this paragraph that might explain it, but it still doesn’t sound like a scene anyone would make up unless it happened.  It’s a real experience that can be used for theological ends).

Well, Jesus Christ dies.  Suddenly, several other things happen.  First, the veil of the sanctuary of the temple rips.  OK, this is kind of a big deal.  You see, the temple sanctuary was God’s domain – literally.  It was his place of belonging here on earth.  And the curtain was the barrier between God’s place and all else.  So why does it rip right after Christ dies?  Simple – it symbolizes that God’s place is no longer just in the sanctuary.  By sacrificing himself to atone for all our sins, Christ has opened the door for the salvation of all.  The Lord needs not be confined to just the sanctuary anymore – all due to Christ’s death.

Also, “The earth quaked, rocks were split, tombs were opened, and the bodies of many saints who had fallen asleep were raised.”  HOLY CRUD!  ZOMBIES!  ZOMBIE SAINTS!  This isn’t the most believable thing in the world, but it’s right there in the Bible.  Before Christ rises from the grave, so do a bunch of nameless saints.  This is another sign of the dawn of a new age, an age of the kingdom of heaven.  A Roman centurion sees it and exclaims, “Truly, this was the Son of God!”  They gave that line to John Wayne in the movie, “The Greatest Story Ever Told.” 

A few women follow the body after it’s been taken down.  Getting top billing is ….Mary Magdalene!  We haven’t heard that name yet, but here it is, getting top billing over the Virgin Mary (who comes next, listed as “Mary the mother of James and Joseph.”  Those of Christ’s brothers.  That’s an odd way of referring to her, though.  I guess Matthew wants to emphasize Christ’s divine nature more.  Oh, and the mother of two apostles is also there. 

Christ is buried in a tomb provided by Joseph of Arimathea.  He’s a rich guy who followed Jesus and had just now purchased the tomb for this occasion.  The Romans put a guard on the tomb, just to make sure that no one steals the body.  The priests caused this to happen.  They know Christ promised to rise from the grave, and they don’t want any Christians taking the body and claiming it rose from the grave.  Along with the guards, the two main women are also there: Mary Magdalene, and “the other Mary.”  Seriously – that’s how Matthew refers to the Virgin Mary – “the other Mary.”  Man, he really is playing down Christ’s actual birth mother, isn’t he? 

CHAPTER 28

We all know what happens here, right?  Yeah, the resurrection.  You can’t keep a good Christ dead. 

It begins with Mary Magdalene and “the other Mary.”  My goodness, Matthew is a real dick to Mother Jesus, isn’t he?  Clearly, he’s hoping we don’t notice that this is the mother.  Anyhow, they go to the tomb and there is a great quake (a different one from Chapter 27, I reckon) and an angel of the Lord shows up with the good news – Jesus has been raised from the dead and is not here!  The guards all but wet themselves in fear when the angel shows up. 

They go into the tomb and guess what – no Jesus-filled center!  He ain’t there!  He is risen! 

How does one explain this?  It’s simple if you’re a Christian – Jesus rose from the dead, silly, just as promised.  Otherwise, how do you explain it?  Well, let’s start with this.  Clearly, the early Christians believed it.  In fact, clearly the apostles of Christ believed it happened.  Otherwise, what earthly motivation would they have to keep telling people of Christ and his ways?  I guess you can argue that they were perpetuating a fraud, but that rings too cynically hollow to be true.  People rarely dedicate their lives to that level of hucksterism.  And remember – these were Jesus’s main followers.  Would they really because frauders so suddenly?  Wouldn’t some of them protest the fraud?

No, they believed it happened.  Otherwise, the religion would’ve been dead in its tracks right from the beginning.  So what happened in the tomb?  Well, the gospels all generally agree on the main outline, but interestingly, they disagree beyond that.  In one of his Bible books, Biblical scholar Bart Ehrman had a theory (probably not original to him, but he’s where I read it).  Look, the tomb was bought up at the last minute by rich guy Joseph of Arimathea.  Maybe it was just a temporary place, and Joseph had Christ moved shortly after – maybe even just a few hours before the women came.  That’s one theory. 

Oh, one problem with the theory: what about the guards?  Eh, simple enough there.  Maybe there were no guards.  The priests considered the matter closed.  Or maybe the guards just didn’t care and wandered away when Joseph had the body moved.  Or maybe they saw Joseph move the body, but he had the right paperwork as tomb owner, and then when the women came, the guards didn’t bother talking to some damn Jewish women unless they had to.  Look, the guard thing is the easy part to explain.  It’s the empty tomb – and the fact that those who knew Christ best believed in the empty tomb – that’s the key part. 

Actually, all this talk and the Bible itself gives a theory to explain the guards angle.  The guards report what happened to the elders who give them a cover story: say the Christians removed the body on their own while the guards were asleep.  Matthew tells us, “And this story has circulated among the Jews to the present.”  Huh.  So – when it “the present” for Matthew?  I don’t know, but again – that indicates a passage of time.  It also indicates a bad relationship between the Jews and Christians.  Oh, and Matthew has a counter-story.  He claims the guards were bribed into making this story. 

Well, if nothing else, it looks like the Roman guards really did stand by the tomb.  Otherwise, there wouldn’t be much need for the competing charges and cover stories.  And that further shows that Jesus really did predict his death and resurrection, otherwise why would the priests allow for a guard to stand there?  Well, I guess the guard’s story makes the most sense.  They were indifferent and fell asleep. 

At any rate, the women came to an empty tomb.  Walking back from it, they came across a familiar figure – Jesus Christ himself.  He tells them not to be afraid.  Instead, they should go tell the good news to the 11 remaining apostles.  Tell them to go to Galilee to a mountain where they’ll see him as well. Please note: in this gospel, the apostles will see Christ in Galilee, not Jerusalem.  That’s not the case in all the gospels; not by any means.

Well, to Galilee the 11 apostles go (and Matthew specifically says 11 – reminding us that Judas is no longer there.  They go on the mountain they’d been told to go to.  (Note: we never get a name or location for the mountain, which is annoying). 

Well, Jesus makes his appearance and tells the apostles to go forth and baptize all the world in his name – well, in the name of “the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Spirit.”  Teach them to obey his rules “until the end of the age.”  Based on all Christ said, you wouldn’t expect the age to be 2,000+ years away.

Oh, but I left out the best part.  When the apostles first see Christ, “they worshipped, but they doubted.”  Apparently, some weren’t initially convinced that this really is Jesus Christ.  That’s an interesting detail. It’s a very human detail.  What exactly did they see there then?  It’s something else that indicates this is a real story.  If it was just myth, why have any of them doubt? 

CONCLUDING THOUGHTS

I want to keep this brief because the previous commentary is already so long.  It’s a great story, and I can see the appeal.  Jesus calls for religious faith, and for proper treatment of all people – the two main pillars of all great religions: belief and moral righteousness. 

It looks like Jesus expected his Kingdom of Heaven to come imminently.  It isn’t really clear what his thoughts were of the afterlife, but more that he thought life in this world, in this plain, would soon change drastically. 

Clearly, Jesus Christ is a very compelling figure. He’s a moral guide.  He’s a faith healer.  He’s a miracle worker. He’s the son of God.  And he rises from the dead, just as predicted.

What’s weird to me is you get all these blizzards of miracles attributed to him – after several hundred years of no miracles at all.  I can accept some faith healing, but if all of this was true, why wouldn’t everyone flock to him? 

My best hunch is that Matthew was written after the destruction of the Temple.  This belief has less to do with Christ predicting it, but more with what went on in Chapter 27.  In general, this book has a negative attitude toward Jews, and a positive attitude toward gentiles.  It surely doesn’t want to mess with Romans, that’s for sure!  That said, it has a very respectful attitude toward Jewish laws and prophecies. Christ changes some laws around, but it’s mostly just a deepening of what went on before in order to prepare for the imminent kingdom of heaven.

I can understand the popularity of the book.  It’s full of famous statements and great moments.  It’s not a surprise that it’s the one put in first in the New Testament.

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