Facing Jerusalem

Two events were noted in the last chapter that formed turning points in Jesus' work—his turning from Galilee and his acceptance of the title of Messiah. To these there is now joined a third: Jesus decides to go to Jerusalem and foretells his suffering and death. "He began to teach them, that the Son of man must suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders, and the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. And he spake the saying openly" (Mark 8:31, 32).

We do not know when Jesus formed this resolution to go to Jerusalem. He saw it apparently as the will of his Father, which he read in the course that his life had taken. Other doors were closed to him. In Galilee, where his work had begun with such promise, there were now the conspiring Pharisees and Herodians, and a people that had turned from him. To go to Gentile lands was to give up his mission. Only the way to Jerusalem was open. There he would make the last appeal to his people. The issue of that appeal, however, he clearly foresaw, and for that he had to prepare his disciples. The spirit that had opposed him in Galilee was far stronger in the city. He had met its emissaries, who had come down to censure and oppose (Mark 7:1). With them he would find the priestly party, with whom he had as little in common as with the Pharisees. He knew that his journey meant death.

The journey, though perhaps a change in his plans, was not a change in his spirit or method. Here, again, the story of the temptation outlines his later life. The finger of God pointed to Jerusalem, it was his to go. His duty was not to save himself, but to trust God; not to find his own way, but to obey. If God's way led to Jerusalem and death, then suffering and death were a part of God's plan and of his work. His death, then, was to accomplish what his life had failed to do. Some glimpse of the greatness of his spirit comes to us as we look at this step. There is his independence of thought. His spiritual insight is his own; it is not dependent upon others. Neither the Old Testament nor the teachers of his day knew anything of a suffering Messiah. Yet at the moment when he takes his place before his disciples as Messiah he begins to declare that he is a Messiah that must serve and suffer and die.

Though the traditional thought of the Messiah did not help him here, he seems to have found guidance from other sources. He had seen what had happened to John and read in it his own end (Matt 17:9-13). That had been the fate of faithful messengers in the past, as he told them later at Jerusalem (Matt 23:29-36). He was not to escape it. It is not unlikely too that he found light and help in the great words of the writer of the second part of the book of Isaiah. He had gained inspiration from this source before. In this book were the words that he had read in the synagogue at Nazareth and had made the program of his life (Isa 61:1, 2); and another verse from this writer echoes in the answer that he sent back to John (Isa 58:6; see Luke 4:18, 19; 7:22). In this same book is the wonderful passage about the suffering servant. From the very beginning it was applied to Jesus by the church. He himself seems to have found in it light upon the strange path that he was now to take. That it was not regarded as a Messianic passage by the Jews would have made no difference to him. Two of its great thoughts reappear in his words in these days. First, he called himself a servant. "The Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister" (Mark 10:45; Isa 52:13). "I am in the midst of you as he that serveth" (Luke 22:27). Second, he declared that he was to "give his life a ransom for many" (Mark 10:45). The same thought appears in the prophet; in some way the suffering of the servant is to be for the healing and forgiveness of men: "He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed" (Isa 53:5).

The story of the transfiguration seems to come immediately after the confession at Cæsarea Philippi and before the journey toward Jerusalem. It was Jesus' own preparation for the hard days that were before him, and it has a certain correspondence with the experience at the baptism and in the wilderness. In this case, as then, he was passing through a period of conflict. What he had settled then in principle he was now to put to its last application. The way of obedience and trust and service was to become the way of death. It was an hour of struggle, and, as was his custom, he went apart to pray, taking with him Peter and James and John. What that hour of prayer meant, how he won his victory, and how the strength came to him from his Father we do not know, except that here too a voice came to him, and he knew that this course that he had chosen was his Father's will. But even the dulled disciples, heavy with sleep, awoke at last and knew that God was in the place. And so Jesus gathered strength, as in the wilderness and the garden, for the days that lay before him (Mark 9:2-8; Matt 17:1-8; Luke 9:28-36).

At no place do we see so clearly the work that Jesus wrought with his disciples. He did not simply tell them that he must go to Jerusalem and die. He began patiently a course of instruction. We do not know how long a time elapsed from this declaration until their actual arrival at Jerusalem. It seems to have been deferred long enough to give opportunity for their training and to insure his presence there at the time of the great feast of the passover. It was no easy test to which he subjected them. They had followed him on his wanderings after the tide had turned against him. That was hard enough. That he accepted the role of Messiah must have stirred a tumult of hope and ardent imagination in their hearts. Now he declared that his Messiahship meant suffering and death. No wonder that Peter protested. Jesus' answer is significant: "Get thee behind me, Satan; for thou mindest not the things of God, but the things of men" (Mark 8:33). We might translate the words, "You are not thinking God's way, but man's way." There is a certain passion in Jesus' response that suggests a deeply stirred soul. It seems to reveal the struggle through which he had just passed. Jesus saw, indeed, in the suggestion of Peter that he should turn from all this, the same subtle tempting spirit of evil that he had faced in the forty days of temptation. Here, as there, Jesus perceived the real issue. It was no indifferent matter of ways and means. The whole principle of life was at stake. That principle he now set forth in sharp and paradoxical phrase: "Whosoever would save his life shall lose it; and whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel's shall save it" (Mark 8:35).

The disciples stood the test. They followed him when he turned toward Jerusalem. And yet he had to return to his theme again and again, now to set forth his great principle of giving and serving, again to declare what it was to mean for his own life. They did not understand how such a fate could happen to the Messiah (Mark 9:30-32). Since Jesus had declared himself as Messiah, the old popular dreams and hopes seemed to revive in them. They began disputing as to the relative positions they were to hold in his kingdom (Mark 9:33-37). Two of them, James and John, boldly took the matter into their own hands and went to him, asking that he should promise them first and second places in the new realm (Mark 10:35-45). All this he patiently met by his teaching. He called the twelve and put a child in the midst, teaching the lesson of humility. He laid down again his great life principle: "If any man would be first, he shall be last of all, and servant of all" (Mark 9:35; Matt 18:1-5). There is more sorrow than anger in his rebuke of the sons of Zebedee. He points to his own example: "Which is greater, he that sitteth at meat, or he that serveth? is not he that sitteth at meat? but I am in the midst of you as he that serveth" (Luke 22:27).

There is little definite knowledge of the events of the last journey to Jerusalem. Here, as elsewhere, it is not certain except in a few cases, that the materials grouped together by the evangelists are in the right order of time. Luke gives us the picture of the Master leading on, fearless and with fixed purpose: "When the days were well-nigh come that he should be received up, he steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem" (Luke 9:51). And Mark gives us the picture of the disciples: "And Jesus was going before them: and they were amazed; and they that followed were afraid" (Mark 10:32).

Jesus' teaching during this period concerned not only the law of service and its meaning for his own life in the suffering and death that awaited him; he also pointed out what the demand of discipleship was. Most of the sayings in which he demands the supreme surrender, the whole-hearted decision for himself and God, come within this period. His disciples were to be like men on their way to execution carrying their own cross; they were to come to him with their lives in their hands, ready to live the life or give it as might seem necessary (Mark 8:34). Only so would they really find their life. And what else mattered in comparison with life. Better to lose all else, the right eye even, or the right hand, than to lose life itself (Mark 9:43-48). And from his immediate followers he demanded absolute decision. There was no time for them to be making farewells or burying the dead. He wanted no men who tried to plow while looking back at the same time (Luke 9:57-62). It was probably on this journey that he met the rich young ruler and asked him to give up his riches and join their company (Mark 10:17-22).

Two incidents are given us connected with Jesus' passing through Jericho on this last trip to Jerusalem. One is the story of the healing of the blind beggar, Bartimæus, that is, son of Timæus. It is the last deed of healing which is described to us. It happened probably as they were leaving Jericho, though Luke sets it at their entrance. There was an accompanying crowd from the city. Learning the meaning of the excitement, the beggar raised his voice and called upon Jesus: "Thou son of David, have mercy on me." It was the cry to which Jesus was wont to respond, the cry of faith and need, a cry which rang only the louder when they tried to stop him. And Jesus healed him (Mark 10:46-52).

The other incident is that of Zacchæus, a chief publican and rich (Luke 19:1-10). What Jesus saw was not the publican but the man, the man who could forget his wealth and station and dignity in his eagerness to see Jesus. That Jesus read his spirit aright is seen by the issue. To Jesus the publican declares: "The half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have wrongfully exacted aught of any man, I restore fourfold." It was but another instance of Jesus' open eye and ready welcome for that humility and earnest desire which were the open door to the kingdom. And though he was almost at the door of Jerusalem, with all its narrowness and watchful enmity, he did not hesitate to go in and lodge with this publican and sinner. Indeed, it is probable that he spent the Sabbath day with him, as his entrance into Jerusalem seems to have been on Sunday.

Directions for Reading and Study

As to the impending suffering and death and its meaning, read Matt 17:9-13; 23:29-39; Isa 52:13 to 53:12.

As to the transfiguration: Mark 9:2-8; Matt 17:1-8; Luke 9:28-36.

As to the principle of service and sacrifice: Mark 9:33-37; 10:35-45; Luke 22:24-27.

The predictions of suffering and death: Mark 8:31-38; 9:30-32; 10:32-34.

The Jericho incidents: Mark 10:46-52; Luke 19:1-10.