So, at long last we are beginning the most harrowing chapter of the Gospel of Mark—chapter fifteen. Chapter fourteen ended with a condemnation of death, but one without any teeth because the power over life and death in Judea belonged entirely to Pontius Pilate, who was so cruel that he managed to achieve modern war criminal status during peacetime and even the Romans couldn’t deal with him anymore. It is here that Yeshua/Jesus becomes a mere pawn in political power games—or so it seems.

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I know, you thought I was never going to do one of these again but we had a weird, early spring in Idaho and I got crazy and I put in two cherry trees, one sweet and the other sour, two apple trees, a Gala and a Honeycrisp, two cherry bushes, which I didn’t even know was a thing, an Asian pear tree, four blueberry bushes, three huckleberry plants, a Japanese Maple, an entirely gutted and replanted strawberry patch, and two new garden patches—plus all the work that didn’t get done last fall! Right now, all I have left is a Honeysuckle vine to put in the ground. And let me tell you that my knees and my back haven’t been happy for the last two months because of it. But, like I said, I am done now and this is a one-time thing and now in five years I will have a ton of fruit—and hopefully no grandchildren to share it with right away because I am not ready for that yet.

But we are finally going to start Mark chapter 15 and we will have seven broadcasts left to go in the series, which should take us up to my 53rd birthday unless I take another break, or I chicken out and decide not to do a teaching on the disputed verses of Chapter 16 but I think that will be fun to tackle the controversy. We’re all grownups here and can handle it without going ballistic. I figure if you guys were going to be upset about something like this that you would have left as soon as you found out that I am a woman—you knew that, right? Fair warning, guys, I am about to start teaching you but I promise not to take any sort of unauthorized authority, no hypnosis to trick you into listening to me, no blackmail, no guilt trips. You can hit that off button and I will never even know about it. Enough foolishness, let’s look at this week’s section of Scripture where the topic is Pilate and Barabbas and Yeshua/Jesus within the Praetorium very early in the morning of the day He would be crucified.

15 And as soon as it was morning, the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council. And they bound Jesus and led him away and delivered him over to Pilate. 2 And Pilate asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” And he answered him, “You have said so.” 3 And the chief priests accused him of many things. 4 And Pilate again asked him, “Have you no answer to make? See how many charges they bring against you.” 5 But Jesus made no further answer, so that Pilate was amazed. 6 Now at the feast he used to release for them one prisoner for whom they asked. 7 And among the rebels in prison, who had committed murder in the insurrection, there was a man called Barabbas. 8 And the crowd came up and began to ask Pilate to do as he usually did for them. 9 And he answered them, saying, “Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” 10 For he perceived that it was out of envy that the chief priests had delivered him up. 11 But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have him release for them Barabbas instead. 12 And Pilate again said to them, “Then what shall I do with the man you call the King of the Jews?” 13 And they cried out again, “Crucify him.” 14 And Pilate said to them, “Why? What evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Crucify him.” 15 So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released for them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified.

Hi, I am Tyler Dawn Rosenquist, and welcome to Character in Context, where I teach the historical and ancient sociological context of Scripture with an eye to developing the character of the Messiah. If you prefer written material, I have six years’ worth of blog at theancientbridge.com as well as my six books available on amazon—including a four-volume curriculum series dedicated to teaching Scriptural context in a way that even kids can understand it, called Context for Kids (affiliate link) and I have two video channels on YouTube with free Bible teachings for both adults and kids. You can find the link for those on my website. Past broadcasts of this program can be found at characterincontext.podbean.com and transcripts can be had for most broadcasts at theancientbridge.com. If you have kids, I also have a weekly broadcast where I teach them Bible context in a way that shows them why they can trust God and how He wants to have a relationship with them through the Messiah.

 

All Scripture this week comes courtesy of the ESV, the English Standard Version but you can follow along with whatever Bible you want. A list of my resources can be found attached to the transcript for Part two of this series at theancientbridge.com.

Gonna be honest, this is a hard section of Scripture for me to teach because I have trouble detaching myself from the reality of what my Master endured for us. But honestly, I am incredibly shocked when people are so focused on pseudepigraphic works like Enoch and Jubilees and all that when they often cannot talk in depth about the most important three days in the history of mankind. This is where we were bought, where sin and death were conquered, and when the New Creation existence was inaugurated. So, let’s get to it. The High Priest’s personal Sanhedrin made up of his cronies met in the middle of the night, on the High Sabbath no less, and they attempted to convict Yeshua of blasphemy based on the notion of those times that to speak against the Temple, or to speak of destroying the Temple, was tantamount to speaking against Yahweh. Obviously, the witnesses were a hot mess and no one could agree and so they couldn’t get that charge to stick but when Yeshua answered the question, asked according to an oath formula in the Name of Yahweh, of whether or not He was the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One…well, let’s just say that not only did He answer in the affirmative but He also used very specific judgment language where He claimed that they would see Him coming in judgement. That’s what coming on the clouds meant to them. For Yeshua to be claiming to be coming as judge against the High Priest and chief priests, by the standards of that day that was absolutely blasphemy. But there was one problem. Pilate wasn’t going to care about that in the slightest. He would probably even chuckle about it because he hated the Jews with a passion.

And as soon as it was morning, the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council. And they bound Jesus and led him away and delivered him over to Pilate.

Remember we talked about the “trial” the night before actually being just an informal legal tribunal? Well, this is where we see that it is definitely what happened because despite condemning Yeshua as a blasphemer, punishable by death, they didn’t have the authority to do anything about it. They had to convene a meeting of the elders, scribes and the entire council—not an informal sanhedrin but a consultation, a symboulion, a boule, the Greek word that translates the Hebrew Beit Din—the highest ecclesiastical court of Israel and the only ones who could condemn anyone of a capital crime. Based on Yeshua’s confession, He was absolutely guilty in the eyes of the majority of the leadership. To speak against the leaders of Israel, boldly and without repentance, was to speak against Yahweh Himself, in their minds. So, nothing had changed since the days of the prophets, who were often killed for doing the exact same thing—only they didn’t claim to be able to sit in a throne at the right hand of Yahweh Himself. And so they did condemn Him of blasphemy but had no power whatsoever to put Him to death.

One thing I want to address is the idea that the author of Mark is saying that the entire council condemned Him as guilty—it doesn’t say that. It only says that the chief priests held a consultation with everyone. There could have been a great many dissenters—men like Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea.  But they did decide that he was worthy of being handed over to Pilate—and the only reason they would do that is to have Yeshua put to death. Only Pilate had that authority and so now things were about to get complicated. And I should mention that this meeting would have been really early, like somewhere between 4:30-5:30 in the morning, because on Festival days, the court of Pilate was packed to the gills with people wanting audiences and to bring their concerns to him. He was only ever in Jerusalem on festival days, otherwise he lived in Caesarea Maritima at the Roman Headquarters there. It was a much more modern city, very Hellenistic, and not a religious center with people who would respond fanatically whenever he would pull one of his stunts. Pilate would hold court from sunrise until noon and of course he would grant audiences to the most honored petitioners first—so like the High Priest and the Chief Priest got first dibs. And it was quite a walk from the Herodian Quarter of the Upper City over to the Praetorium (north of Herod’s Palace) in the NW corner of the Upper City (map). However, if they moved the hearing to the Temple Mount and the Chamber of Hewn Stone, which is where they court met to decide capital cases, then the Praetorium might have been located at the Fortress Antonia, which was physically connected to the NW corner of the Temple Mount—although I wonder if they would bring someone in His condition so near the Temple. And we should be used to this word by now, they handed Him over to Pilate—paradidomi—that word that means to hand someone over and generally to the Gentiles for judgement. Unless Jesus was crucified, they wouldn’t ever get rid of Him. They had to shame Him beyond any chance of recovery.

And Pilate asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” And he answered him, “You have said so.”

Wait, what? Yeshua was condemned for blasphemy but that’s not the story that made it to Pilate. Pilate has been presented with an entirely different charge—that of sedition, which was a huge deal in the very paranoid Roman Empire under Tiberias Caesar. The first hearing, the informal one, ended up being an elaborate fishing trip hoping to find something that would stick. The second formal hearing just presented what they came up with. In the third hearing, they evidently told Pilate that Yeshua was claiming to be the King of the Jews, the Messiah—which was a political charge and a very serious one at that because only Rome could say who was and was not a king of the Jews. And that king would be under the thumb of Tiberius, paying tribute and all that. As it was, the only thing close to a king of the Jews that there was, was Herod Antipas, the ruler of Galilee but he wasn’t a king. Between Herod the Great, king of the Jews and Herod Agrippa, who was also made King of the Jews, the Roman Senate never appointed or acknowledged any king in Judea, Galilee or the surrounding areas. Pilate himself was not a king or even a ruler but just a governor appointed from the equestrian class, which was under the senatorial class in rank. It meant he was wealthy, and he had the power to make unilateral decisions in cases of the life or death of the people of Judea, but he also had to watch his back because his friend and patron Sejanus was in serious trouble at this same time and in 31 CE he was executed for sedition. So, Pilate’s position was anything but secure. In essence, Pilate is asking Yeshua, “Are you declaring yourself King in violation of Roman authority?” And Yeshua gives a typical ambiguous answer—an answer that really comes across as, “yeah, kinda, but not the way you are thinking.” And these are actually the last words He will utter before the Cross. Here’s where we have to really pay attention:

And the chief priests accused him (katagoreo) of many things.

What they probably wouldn’t accuse Him of was blasphemy because that wasn’t a Roman crime, to claim to be judge over Jewish leaders. But they also wouldn’t have spoken out of turn to Pilate, so he must have asked them for clarification on the charges. We can only imagine what they were accusing him of based on what they had done in the past—but suffice it to say Mark felt it was enough that they were really throwing everything they had at Him. Pilate detests the Jewish leadership (all the Jews, really, and the Samaritans too) and he would probably like nothing better than to irritate them on a festival day in front of the crowd (which is not the same thing as him having an iota of compassion on Yeshua) and we can really sense the exasperation as he comes back and addressed Yeshua again:

And Pilate again asked him, “Have you no answer to make? See how many charges they bring against you.” But Jesus made no further answer, so that Pilate was amazed.

Facing crucifixion for sedition, the hearing of Yeshua before Pilate should have made for some entertaining political theater, but Yeshua wasn’t playing ball. He wasn’t protesting, or denying the charges, or begging for mercy from the man who had absolute authority over whether he walked away from this alive or died the most shameful and excruciating death the Romans could dish out. Pilate would have loved nothing better than to draw this out and put the leadership on the hot seat, making sure that everyone in the crowd was reminded that they were just nothings and nobodies in the eyes of Rome, not even their most elite citizens and religious authorities. This is Pilate’s second question, “Aren’t you going to say anything in your own defense? Are you listening to everything these guys are saying about you?” was largely rhetorical, as he had informants everywhere and counselors who would have kept him apprised on any strange goings on in Judea and especially in Jerusalem during Passover when uprisings were more likely to occur. Pilate wasn’t ignorant—he likely knew everything Yeshua had been doing and might have even chuckled at his Temple Mount antics of shaming the Pharisees, Scribes, and Sadducees. It wouldn’t make him a fan of Yeshua or anything, but it would be like watching someone you hate get made a fool out of by another person you dislike. In the days of no TV, that was the honor/shame idea of must see TV.

As per Isaiah 53:7 He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth. Now, according to Roman Law, silence was not considered an admission of guilt but a person who refused to speak could still be convicted and condemned. Yeshua makes no response because everything is set in motion now. He has said everything that needs saying. He isn’t going to try to convert Pilate or the crowd. If what they have seen with their own eyes isn’t sufficient, it would do not good anyway and remember that this was the rescue plan that Yahweh masterfully set into effect when He chose Abraham, that the seed of the woman would crush the head of the serpent despite being fatally wounded. Abraham was chosen to bring forth Yeshua. So was Isaac, Jacob, Judah, Boaz, and David. So was Sarah, and Rebekah, and Leah, and Tamar, and Rahab, and Ruth, and Bathsheba, and young Miriam the betrothed virgin from Nazareth. They lived in order to bring forth the Messiah, and for this moment in particular when He refuses to give into Pilate’s temptation to defend Himself. If the final temptation of Yeshua was to refuse to call down an army of angels to rescue Him from the Cross, this was the second to last temptation. Pilate wants to mess with the chief priests and elders, and maybe Pilate might decide to condemn Him anyway just for sport, but the offer is definitely being held out. “Treat me like your savior and we’ll see what we can do.”

Now at the feast he used to release for them one prisoner for whom they asked.

Stopping right here because this must have been a local custom. It is never mentioned by Josephus as being a thing but then Josephus was born after Pilate was recalled to Rome and tried for having slaughtered Samaritans who just happened to be Roman citizens, without trial, which was a very serious offense. It wasn’t unheard of within the greater Roman Empire for governors and prefects and legates to do things like this in order to keep the populace happy and to appear benevolent—and it made good political theater. Rome was all about order, authority, and a good show. According to Witherington, In Roman law there were two sorts of amnesties that could be granted. One was called abolitio, the other indulgentia. The former involved the acquittal of one not yet condemned, and Jesus would surely have fallen into that category at this juncture in the proceedings.[1] So, abolitio was the pardon of a prisoner about whom a decision had not yet been made. Pilate has not yet sentenced Yeshua. And so he had the power to just say, “Um no, not going to do this…” but because the charge was sedition against Rome, he was in a tricky spot and especially if proceedings against Sejanus were already underway or completed. Pilate would not risk his life by offending Tiberias for a backwater, border of the Empire, wannabe pretender king—which is how he most likely saw Yeshua. Perhaps as an eccentric thorn in the High Priest’s side.

And among the rebels in prison, who had committed murder in the insurrection, there was a man called Barabbas. 

Okay, more here than meets the eye. First, let’s talk about the word for rebels, stasiastes, because it is a hapax legomenon (hah-pax leh-go-meh-nah)—meaning this is the only place we see it in Scripture. It is linked to the word for insurrection, stasis. And it is an interesting word choice because of the word used elsewhere, as well as in Josephus, to describe the social bandits of the day, which was lestes, translated as robbers three times in the Gospel of Mark. Lestes were social bandit, Robin Hood types which were more commonly seen the closer you get to 70 CE and the destruction of the Temple. Often former landowners rendered homeless through oppressive taxation by the Romans and the Temple complex, they really did do a lot of harassing of those who were well off. They truly were robbers. But Mark doesn’t use that word for Barabbas, he uses a one-off word that is tied instead to something called “the insurrection” and the Greek actually has the definite article in there so Barabbas wasn’t guilty of insurrection, but guilty of a murder committed in “the” insurrection and so this was a known event at that time and he had been caught and imprisoned for his crime and I assume he was already a condemned man hoping not for abolitio but indulgentia—to have his sentence tossed out entirely. A violent rebel against Roman rule, he was likely quite the romantic and popular figure. For those assuming that Pilate brought him forward as someone who would disgust the festival crowd, I am not really buying it. Maybe Pilate wanted to see if Jesus might actually be a problem as a Messianic figure by having the crowd decide between a popular insurrectionist and this miracle worker who might become an issue. Or maybe he just enjoyed dragging it out and infuriating the leadership publicly. Or both. We just don’t know for sure.

And the crowd came up and began to ask Pilate to do as he usually did for them. 

First day of the festival and they are coming to see Pilate, who will not be there long, to secure their candidate for amnesty. The word for crowd here is ochlos, as usual, an incredibly common word in the Gospel of Mark and we see it three times in this section alone. It is the crowd who follows, is fed, healed, delivered, dazzled, and finally condemns. So, really heavy irony here. And, like I always say, we need to look for ourselves in the unnamed crowd because, believe me, we are always there. More on that later. Although there is no historical record of Pilate releasing a prisoner, m.Pes 8.6 has a specific allowance for someone to offer up a Paschal offering (Passover sacrifice) for a prisoner who gets released on the Passover.

And he answered them, saying, “Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” 

Pilate is really not wanting to be used by the Jewish leadership to get rid of an enemy that is clearly more of a threat to them than to Rome. And so when they ask for the customary release of a prisoner, Pilate offers up Yeshua as an option—however, he did it with a cheap shot, using the phrase King of the Jews for the second time. And really, by this time he must have known that they wanted Barabbas, who was most likely somewhat of a local hero and Pilate certainly wouldn’t want to release Barabbas if there was a more harmless alternative. After all, the insurrection likely was at the expense of Roman citizens. He would undoubtedly just cause trouble again. But the deeper question that the author of Mark is pointing to is the question that we must ask ourselves as part of the crowd—what kind of king do you want?

For he perceived that it was out of envy that the chief priests had delivered him up. 

Pilate was very politically discerning, and he wasn’t fooled. Yeshua had been shaming the Jerusalem elite since He arrived in town. The Temple Mount disputations earlier in the week had brutally shamed, and by shamed I mean damaged the standing of the appointed as well as self-appointed leadership of the Jewish people. The Herodians, the Pharisees, the Scribes, the Sadducees, the Chief Priests had all tried to best Yeshua in order to cause Him to destroy Himself but they had ended up absolutely silenced and wrecked. Pilate would have heard as he had spies everywhere. Pilate would have asked them to tell the story again because it would have amused him to no end. This word for envy, phthonos, is the same word Paul used to describe the works of the flesh in Galatians 5. Again, we see that they “delivered Him up” and that is paradidomi, the word for handing someone over (usually to the Gentiles) to experience wrath and judgment. Pilate knows he is being used and he doesn’t like it. Yeshua is nothing but the pawn in this power game, as far as Pilate is concerned.

But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have him release for them Barabbas instead. 

I find it interesting that the chief priests had to stir up the crowd. Were they considering choosing Yeshua? They had certainly come with Barabbas in mind—the chief priests didn’t just choose a random prisoner. But maybe, looking at the miracle worker, they might have been considering it until they heard the whispers, “Barabbas is a true Jew, fighting our oppressors! That Yeshua, what has he ever done to free us from the Romans—isn’t that the sign of the true Messiah? And don’t forget that he spoke against the Temple and said that he would tear it down. We’re better off with giving Barabbas a second chance to make the Romans and their rich friends pay.” Just my guess.

And Pilate again said to them, “Then what shall I do with the man you call the King of the Jews?” 

For the third time, Pilate speaks the phrase, “King of the Jews” with respect to Yeshua. And he places the fate of Yeshua with the crowd—with us. And they decided what kind of King, what kind of Messiah, they wanted. It was Passover, the celebration of their liberation from Pharaoh and Egypt and slavery. It was the day they were dreaming of a new and better exodus that would rid them of their foreign overlords. They wanted revenge, they wanted to be on top again, under a new Davidic King. They wanted someone a whole lot more like Barabbas—they were craving violence. Just as so many today read Revelation focusing on a Lion with a sword in His hand, robes drenched in the blood of His enemies instead of the Lamb with the sword of the Word in His mouth, robes drenched in His own blood before the battle even begins because the battle is already over and He is victorious. But they wanted that violent avenger of their shame and degradation, not the redemption of their oppressors. And so they gave their answer, probably the same one we would give today—what kind of Messiah are you looking for?

And they cried out again, “Crucify him.” And Pilate said to them, “Why? What evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Crucify him.” 

This isn’t a battle for justice but a war over expectations and what they expected and wanted from God’s Messiah. But Pilate, I imagine, isn’t truly outraged by this display—if he lived in modern times, we’d call him a war criminal, except he did those things during peacetime. Pilate was the sort of fellow who would consider himself to be quite pious because he honored the gods of Rome and their earthly representative, Tiberias, “son of god” which of course was written on the coinage of the empire. Only, in Latin, of course. But the Jews (speaking from the POV of a Roman here) claimed superlative piety, while worshiping only one god, as if one god was even possible—everyone knew the universe needed a multitude of gods to run things and wasn’t the supremacy of Rome over puny little Judea and Galilee and the Transjordan proof that the Jews were nothing but atheists? Denying the very gods who conquered their own pathetic god who had been subjugated under the gods of Babylon, Persia, Media, Greece and now Rome for all but a handful of the past six hundred years? They refused to work on the seventh day of the week and claimed spiritual superiority—through laziness! They refused to eat pig, food that was good enough for the gods of Rome but not good enough for them? They refused to have the Imperial cult images within the borders of Jerusalem, or even the banners of the Roman legions who protected them. He knew full well that they believed that Gentiles, like himself, were unfit to approach their conquered deity, from birth. They objected to everything reasonable and yet here they are screaming for violence against a man Pilate knows is innocent. They have, in one fell swoop, justified every measure of contempt that Pilate had for them.

And besides putting those thoughts into Pilate’s head, I made none of that up because we find exactly these complaints and epithets in the writings of Greco-Roman era philosophers, historians, playwrights, etc. I would have no surprise if that was what was going through Pilate’s mind. The authors of the other Gospels elaborated more about what was going on but this would be well understood by Mark’s Roman audience.  And remember, we know this was written for a Roman audience because of the usage of so many Latin loanwords and concepts that do not appear in the other Gospels. The Jewish believers in Rome were very familiar with these misconceptions and racial slurs, and the Gentile believers had probably agreed with them at one time themselves. Just think for a minute about how you feel as a “whatever” when someone who identifies as part of your group behaves so badly that you begin to wish you were never born. That’s how the Jewish believers listening to the Gospel of Mark felt at this moment. And they all probably said they would have done differently, because that’s just how we are. Queens of denial.

And let’s just step back and consider how horrific this really is and what it means to be an oppressed population and how it compromises your basic decency. Crucifixion is probably the most horrible mode of execution ever invented, at least among the ones practiced as legal forms of punishment. Burning is faster, stoning is faster, being drawn and quartered is faster, but when you have grown up watching something it changes you. After a while it’s like you don’t even really see how terrible it is anymore, you just can’t bear to really stop and think about it unless it is happening to someone you love. Sometimes the roads to Jerusalem were all lined with crucified men suffering for days in unimaginable ways, on top of the humiliation of being naked and powerless. We want them to scream, “Don’t do this to anyone!” but that wasn’t their world. They hated Rome. Releasing Barabbas satisfied their desire to strike at Rome in a way that Rome couldn’t really say no to. Yeshua didn’t even enter into the conversation. He was an obstacle, not the kind of Messiah anyone wanted. Just the kind of Messiah everyone needed.

So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released for them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified.

Pilate just wants it all over with. He’s lost his battle against the chief priests who were using him to take a political opponent out of their way (there was no separation of church and state in the ancient world and there was also no break between religious and secular life). The crowd does not want to appear weak, but strong. And Pilate is not willing to risk either a riot or making it look like he is turning a deaf ear to a possible rival to Caesar, especially not one who is reported to work miracles and can draw crowds in the thousands to hear him speak. Yeshua was likely convicted on the grounds of Lex Iulia Maestasis—high treason against the Empire. Scourging was customary before the crucifixion and was performed to the back and the front of a man. It was generally so painful that the victim lost control of his bowels and bladder during the torture. According to Roman Law, there was no maximum number of strokes and if the scourger was in the mood, he could kill the victim, or at least rip him to the point that his bones and entrails were exposed, according to Josephus (War 2.21.5, 6.5.3).

Mark also includes a bit more ironic rhetoric here by mentioning how the crowd is satisfied, different word than used in the feeding of the five and four thousand but with only slightly different meanings. There are, after all, different ways for a crowd to be satisfied. And after scourging, we have our third mention of paradidomi, the Greek word for handed over for wrath and judgment in the Septuagint, the translation of the Hebrew Bible into Greek around three hundred years earlier.

I want you to notice how the treatment He received from the Jews and the treatment He received from the Gentiles are mirrored here. Ben Witherington points out that first there was a consultation, a hearing, followed by a verdict, and then mocking and physical abuse. The author is making sure that the Jewish and Gentile believers understand that there were no heroes here except Yeshua. The Jewish leadership was unjust, corrupt and cruel and so were the Romans. You know, this isn’t an antisemitic text here but a very human one. Come to think of it, there is this great article that someone sent me about a year ago about how power rewires the brain and I will link it to the transcript. It’s called Power Causes Brain Damage and was written by Jerry Useem and it is about neurological studies that prove that people in power lose the ability to empathize with the suffering of others, and we can see around the world that oppression and violence do as well so on both sides of the gulf, we see people who are simply unable to empathize with suffering. And this is the very real context of the first century Roman Empire with unbelievable power and wealth on one end of the spectrum and horrific suffering on the other. The elites didn’t care and those at the bottom couldn’t afford to care.

And the audience in Rome—it is important to place this in context of what was going on at this time. Persecution was ramping up and the audience, Jewish and Gentile believers alike, knew that they could face the same treatment of arrest, hearing, condemnation, torture and even death on a cross. It was important for them to understand that they would be following their Master if these things happen, that it’s what loyalty looks like. Yeshua was their Master, Patron, Benefactor, Mediator, Savior, etc. and it was their obligation to be absolutely loyal to Him and to the Gospel no matter what. I mean, they were living in the belly of the beast. They had lives that very few of us can even possibly begin to imagine although I do have an acquaintance from Congo who undoubtedly has a really good idea. If you would like to read her story, check out their book Impossible Love listed below.

Next week, we will be moving on to the mocking of Yeshua and the road to Golgotha.

As an Amazon affiliate, I earn commissions on qualifying purchases–link below.

[1] Witherington, B., III. (2001). The Gospel of Mark: a socio-rhetorical commentary (p. 391). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.

Impossible Love by Craig and Medine Keener.

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