April 1, 2012                                    David Timbs    (Melbourne)                                       David's previous articles   

 

The Week of the Failure

Beginning today, Palm Sunday, the Church begins probably the most symbolically intensive season of its liturgical life. Ironically, this week involves a kind of symbolic overload. It is the time when Christians are invited through the power of Memory to walk with Jesus during the last few days of his earthly life. It is Passion Week, but this week which was one, maybe three years, in the making.

The significance of these days lies not just in what happened in the extremely confronting drama of their unfolding, but in the story of what came before. The story began and ended in Galilee with that critical pause in Jerusalem which marked the conclusion of the old age of grace and revelation and the beginning of the new.

The characters are the constants in the narrative: God, Jesus, his followers, the crowds and the Jewish religious leaders. The story’s plot line involves God, through the evangelist, offering the divine estimation of Jesus as Israel’s anointed one (Messiah) and as God’s Son, the chosen one (Mk 1: 9-11, 9: 8). It is a story of ever developing, heightening and intensifying conflict and it all comes to a head during that week in Jerusalem.

Mark’s narrative, the most deceptively simple of the four Gospels, offers a sense of immediacy, urgency and unembellished, confronting krisis about God’s normative view of Jesus of Nazareth. This krisis, or moment of choice, involves that tensions and boundaries which separate the worlds of unfaith, inadequate faith and genuine faith.

The story begins with John the Baptizer, the great Elijah figure, announcing the Way of the Lord and the time of Israel’s repentance in preparation for the coming of the Messiah. The prophet Malachi describes the final act of Elijah,

Behold, I will send you Elijah, the prophet before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes. And he will turn the hearts of parents to their children and the hearts of children to their parents, lest I come and smite the land with a curse. (Mal 4: 5-6).

The Disciples

The closest disciples of Jesus, even the chosen twelve, never appreciate or grasp the private disclosure to them of Jesus identity as Messiah and Son of God. Peter, the representative disciple, can only arrive at a thoroughly inadequate understanding of what God intends the Messiah to be.

Peter reflects the dominant messianic expectation of the time, that a militant anointed one would vindicate Israel by restoring a Theocracy and pure Torah observance. The disciples cannot accept that God’s Messiah would be the rejected, the suffering and murdered one and that discipleship would involve the same (Mk 8:  27-38 [31-36]). Israel and the disciples are confronted with a radical denial of their expectations. Jesus is a failure.

The Crowds

The crowds in the Gospel narrative represent those who encounter Jesus and hear his preaching and witness the miracles but never arrive at anything remotely like an adequate faith. The best understanding they come to is the recognition that he might be one of the prophets (Mk 8: 27-28) and their typical response is amazement. At worst they display the characteristics of the fickle mob, gang up against Jesus, join in the chorus of denunciation and howl for his death (Mk 15: 6-15). Jesus is a failed popular entertainer.

The religious Leaders of Israel

The leaders of Israel, the Scribes, Pharisees and Sadducees are critical characters in the narrative plot. Their grounds for rejecting Jesus as Israel’s Messiah are both simple and totally expected: Jesus, in their estimation, does mighty works not by the finger of God but by the power of Satan he casts out Satan (Mk 3: 22); Jesus is permanently ritually unclean as a result of his contact with those suffering from diseases and blood taboos and even the dead. Furthermore, Jesus is held in deep suspicion not only by Israel’s leaders but even by his own family for mixing with the wrong people, the demonised and the marginal (Mk 1: 40-45; 3: 19-35; 5: 21-43).

The religious leaders of Israel were convinced that Jesus was a teacher who put the faith of the people at risk, threatened their own authority and therefore had to be done away with. They conspired with the politicians to destroy him (Mk 3: 6). Jesus is a failed category error.

Their plots, the fickle unfaith of the crowds and the inadequate faith of Jesus inner circle all coalesce in that week in Jerusalem. Jesus is publicly repudiated and condemned by Israel leaders, religious and political, by the crowds and by the Imperium. The drama becomes the ultimate tragedy when the trusted insiders of the Jesus Movement lose any nerve they might have had, deny him, abandon him and take flight. Fear and cowardice come together to subvert even their inadequate faith. Jesus was a disappointment to them all.

It is one of the most striking paradoxes of the Markan story that the final estimation of Jesus, his life, message and ministry, is not the judgment on a failed man but on God’s plan actually and successfully accomplished at the very moment of humiliation, failure and defeat.

The Centurion who oversaw the crucifixion of Jesus was an officer of the Tenth Roman Legion. Their emblem was the running wild boar. Maybe this is an inside joke, a Jewish folkloric reference behind the graphic imagery of the Gadarene swine. So, here Mark has the despised, unclean foreign Imperial oppressor, under the banner of the filthy, unclean pig, standing at the foot of a crucified criminal, an unclean Jewish reject. Seeing the manner in which the condemned criminal and religious heretic dies, the Roman outsider proclaims and confesses, now beneath a cross with a Galilean peasant nailed to it, a faith that is complete and adequate, Truly this man was the Son of God (Mk 15: 39).

The empty tomb and the Resurrection await us with their own quiet and confronting moment of krisis.

David Timbs writes from Melbourne, Victoria, Australia.

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