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SUBJECT: 23. Chapter 23: Christ the Outlaw and His Forgotten Chapter
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C H A P T E R T W E N T Y - T H R E E
Christ the Outlaw and His Forgotten Chapter
For of necessity he must release one unto them at the feast.
—Luk_23:17.
But ye have a custom, that I should release unto you one at the passover: will ye therefore that I release unto you the King of the Jews?
—Joh_18:39.
SATAN knows very well which moments are the strategic ones for him. He chooses them painstakingly. Do not, therefore admire him without first and primarily glorifying God.
For Satan owes his ability to choose his times and circumstances strategically solely to the fact that he has dwelt with God. He has been endowed by his creator with great gifts, and has remembered so much of the sublime manner of heaven that even his own Satanic work is still characterized by the style which is excellent, amazing, austerely patterned. Again: Do not admire Satan’s style, but marvel at God’s style, and then tremble before the gruesome regularity of whatever is satanic in its being. After all, Satan is able to achieve an artistic manner in his work because he bases it upon the work of God. God puts His sublime, His divine style into His exalted work, and Satan is ever bound to that.
This will become apparent to us as we probe further into the story of the passion of our Lord Jesus Christ. In the preceding chapter we observed that Christ who was previously made an exile to the law now becomes the complete outlaw. At this point we might ask the question: why should that perfect rejection from the pale of law take place just now? Why should the complete and definitive realization of the concept of Christ the outlaw occur at this particular time? The answer which the assumption of faith gives to this question can be outlined as follows: A. One chapter in the litigation against Christ at this time had been forgotten. That chapter is entitled “The priestly office of Christ.,, B. That “forgotten chapter” now makes itself seen; just for a moment, for a very short moment—but it makes itself seen. C. But even before the concept of Christ’s being a priest is taken up for discussion, He has already completely been made an outlaw. His priesthood, His sacrifice, everything in Him which urges Him to make atonement, was discussed and dispatched, even as far as the concept was concerned, outside of the sphere of law. D. By this we were humbled, the world judged, and the Man of sorrows, the High Priest of our confession, deeply humiliated.
Let us consider what can be said of this. Remember that assumptions have the right of way here; but who, wishing to believe, is ashamed of an assumption?
A. In amplification of that first thought this can be said: The prophetic office and the kingly office have come up for discussion, but up to this time not a single word has been devoted to the priestly office. The office of the priest is not raised in discussion by the Sanhedrin, by Pilate, or by Herod, and it is not made a part of the superscription over the cross. But the whole Scripture does call Christ’s priestly office an essential part of His official messianic task. Besides, throughout the course of the Old Testament the priesthood is continually presented as being messianic in its essence and implications. Nevertheless, here in the litigation against Christ, this office remains in the background. It has been completely ignored by everyone. There was good reason for this. God willed that it should be so; and men also willed that it should be so.
Yes, the people also wished it, and that is a discomforting thought. They were guilty of completely negating the priesthood of Christ during the process of the litigation against Him.
Was this the result of an oversight? Was it due to ignorance? Is it being too facilely and undeservedly censorious to criticize the murderers of the Saviour now, so many centuries later, by saying that this was a serious omission?
We think not. These same Jews who were so eager to be called scholars of the Scriptures might have troubled themselves to become acquainted with those Scriptures. They might well have made themselves familiar with the prophecies to which Christ pointed again and again—as has become evident repeatedly in this book—during the last week of the life of humiliation which He lived upon earth. They might have taken pains to know that prophecy, and to earn it by the struggle of their thoughts. They might have followed that prophecy most punctiliously, placing their finger upon the very letter of the law, just as they boasted of doing in other instances, and just as they had done, for example, when the Magi of the Orient had inquired at the court of Herod where the Messiah had to be born according to the prediction of prophecy. Now if the Jews had actually done all this, which after all was quite in their line of activity, they would have been unable, and that simply upon the basis of ordinary human honesty, to have segregated the priesthood of Christ from the kingship of Christ in the course of their trial of the Saviour.
It is important that we remember certain things. The first is this that they knew that Jesus called Himself a king. And the second is that they knew that He derived His kingship from His Messiahship. Knowing that, they should also have known, and pondered, and proclaimed that according to their sacred Scriptures the messianic king was most intimately connected with the messianic priest.
Surely, they should have been convinced of that intimate relationship. Had not the prophet Zechariah—to limit ourselves to but one prophet—openly declared that a close relationship, a covenant of peace, an official unity would obtain between the eschatological messianic kingship and the similarly eschatological messianic priesthood? Read Chapter 6 of Zechariah. You will notice that Israel’s hope for the future is outlined here. God presents that hope by giving a concrete picture of it. Joshua, the high-priest, you will notice, is given a crown, the ornament which a king wears upon his head.
Now note this distinction. Joshua is presented as a priest wearing the crown of a king. He is not presented as a king wearing the cowl of a priest. It is that last picture, a king’s head adorned with a priest’s cowl, which is the ideal of the heathendom of the day. Such a thing Pilate, too, can appreciate. We have had occasion to point out repeatedly that such was precisely the direction in which the Rome of Pilate’s time wished to go. The priestship was subject to the secular authority of Rome. Caesar, by virtue of his office, was also regarded as pontifex maximus. He figured prominently on occasion in the temple-service. He was the chief authority in things religious as well as in things secular.
Now Israel’s expectation for the future was diametrically opposed to this. The ideal which beckoned to them from the blue distance was that of a priest wearing the king’s crown. Surely, the royal office would remain in Israel Authority guarantees liberty when the authority is just and merciful. Hence authority will not be wanting in the messianic state. But the king’s crown there will rest on a priest’s head, and that priestly head will carry out its commands with a priest’s hand—united with a priest’s heart. What the prophet simply wants to say is that the authority in the messianic state will not be tyrannical or despotic in character, but will rule in the spirit of love and in a service which is the product of a glad surrender.
Now this priestly authority, this close relationship between the office of the king and the office of the priest, incipiently figured forth in Joshua, will appear, perfectly developed, in the coming of the Messiah. In that Messiah the kingship of David will be retained. But in that period of messianic florescence there will be no jealousy, no animosity, no rivalry between the king (secular authority) and the priest (spiritual authority). Peace will obtain between those two; peace will unite them into one. Priest and king, grace and culture, the service of love and the lordship of authority, the service of atonement and the service of protection, communion with God and orientation on earth,—those are the things which in the messianic period are to exist side by side.
We remarked that because of this relationship, David and his kingship would be retained. Remember that from Zechariah’s point of view David was no longer extant. Zechariah does his prophesying after the captivity. Hence he stands beside the ruins of David.
David has no longer anything to say in the world. David’s house no longer has any right to demand service of the people. He will no longer do great things. The last king of the house of David has entered into captivity, a blind weakling, dethroned once and for all. His princes have been put to death in his presence.
That was the last thing his eyes were permitted to see; thereupon the enemy thrust them through. Hence David is no longer being served. All that he can do now is to serve, always and only to serve.
That is why the sublime sweep of Zechariah’s prophecy is so particularly eschatological. When David’s house had degenerated so far that in the future it could only serve, David no longer existed in the minds of men. But the kingdom of God and the word of God still had a task for David. The priest must be intimately united with the king. In that way the one who serves becomes closely related to the one who is served. Love, condescending love, becomes wedded with authority. Hence not only the grace of truth (the prophet) is gladly greeted, but peace, too, is also met with the kiss of a king’s authority. Hence David has after all been served. Serving is not a strange but an entirely natural thing for the perfect messianic King. Just as a priest is poor and defenseless among poor and defenseless people, so the king, too, has become one with the priest of the messianic era.
It is in this way, then, that the prophecy of Zechariah directly related the messianic kingship to the messianic priesthood. Remember that this prophecy was not written in vain; since this prophecy has been written, no one may say of Him who announces Himself as the Messiah that He is a king, without for the sake of the Scriptures also saying of Him: If you are a king in the messianic sense, you are also a priest.
Hence if the Jews take their knowledge of the Scriptures seriously today, they may not in the litigation against Jesus, inasmuch as the kingship has not proved to be a forgotten chapter, regard the priesthood as a forgotten chapter. If the scribes search prophecy just as painstakingly now as they did in the time when Herod was visited by the Magi of the Orient they must, if they are to be consistent, dare Him to bring the issue of His priesthood to the fore.
They have already insulted the prophet in Christ. This they did in connection with Christ’s self-proclamation: I am the Messiah. They have also seen the king in Christ being defied, have, in fact, shared in the defiance just a few moments ago in the presence of Herod. This, too, they did in connection with Christ’s self-proclamation: I am the Messiah. As a matter of fact, it was while defying Him on this count that they presented Him to Pilate.
Come now, scribes, come, you scholars of the Scriptures, what of the office of the priest? Come, people at large, you all who have gathered here, what are you doing with the priest? The whole subject has not been raised yet. Who will be the first to raise that point?
But there is not a single one present there who is willing to begin that discussion. They all ignore the subject.
To a certain extent this is due to enmity. We have had occasion previously to refer to the fact that the Jewish nation was not disposed to accept the prophecies of Zechariah. When Christ, poor and defenseless, triumphantly entered the city of David, the Jews did not understand Him. But they did not want to understand Him. Their perversity taught them to live without the Scriptures, because the evil heart of man wrests the Scriptures into whatever shape it will, and accepts only those truths which are compatible with its thinking.
But to a certain extent—and now we are thinking particularly of the crowd—this neglect is also owing in part to abysmal ignorance, to absurd misunderstanding. The prophecy of Zechariah stood miles away from what Jewish pride, from what the theology of Judas, from what the chauvinism of the Jewish spirit expected, —and learned from its leaders.
It is in this sense and to this extent that we can speak of the “forgotten chapter.” The priesthood was that forgotten chapter. The leaders of the people had first neglected it, had reasoned it out of existence at the prompting of the evil choice of the heart. Those leaders did not want a king who was quite defenseless and as poor as a priest. The result was that the neglected chapter became a forgotten chapter.
Consequently this was an oppressive hour for the Christ. His great soul, ever alert to the sense of the prophet, is as heavily oppressed now as it was when He triumphantly entered into Jerusalem. At that time the madding thousands of the people also segregated the priest from the king. They wanted to regard Him as a militant general, as one who is being served, and not as one who related authority to humility and to a defenseless and unremunerative priesthood.
The same thing happens here. True,—viewed from the outside —there is a great difference between this moment and the one which marked Christ’s entry into Jerusalem. Then there was a milling crowd, the plaudit of the masses, the kiss of the sun; now there are bonds, silence, quietude, and a sultriness in the atmosphere. But again the king is separated from the priest. Again the curse is proclaimed against a king who is humble. In the last analysis the attitude expressed now is therefore the same as the one voiced then.
Christ feels that His official life has been torn apart. His “bowels” feel the pang, for it is in His “bowels” that He bears the law and the prophets. For He Himself experiences the unity, the fusion of priest and king in this very moment. Once Joshua, the ancient Joshua, had lived. Now Joshua reappears. That is His name,—Jesus, Joshua. This Joshua knows that He follows in the line of Zechariah. That is precisely the reason for which He kept silence so essentially as He did in the presence of the Sanhedrin, and of Pilate and of Herod. He did not want to be segregated from the priesthood when He was being maligned for His awareness of being a prophet and for His pretentions to being a king.
He knows clearly and profoundly, however, that the masses must make a selection. Yes, you say—for you know the story almost by heart — yes, they must choose between Barabbas and Jesus. However, do not forget this: that choice which will take place presently, that pairing of names, simply makes manifest what in principle is obvious already. But even if there had been no Barabbas available in that vicinity, the people would still have had to make a selection. They would have had to choose between the official priests who are accusing Jesus today, on the one hand, and Jesus, on the other. They would have had to choose between the Priest-King in the realm of the Spirit and the Caesar-priest in the realm of the Beast.
To the extent that King Jesus has related his kingship to the priestly concept of love and tender service—even to the point of self-sacrifice, — those priests who are standing there shrieking their accusations against Him, have sold their priestly soul to the king’s crown of the Caesar who dwells in Rome, to the usurper who will come now to tread upon the neck of the Jews, and—upon their sacred scroll. Yes, he will tread upon the book which tells the story of the priest-king.
What did the chief priests care about David? Zechariah’s abstract prediction — prophets can be so annoyingly abstract, such arch-dreamers!—could send the priest of the future into captivity behind David, if it wished to, but the priests of Pilate’s day will not hear of that. They have deaf ears for anything referring to captivity. They simply cannot understand how anything can be expected from a trunk which has been hewn down, much less how something resembling the double effect of a priesthood and kingship in one can be expected of it. They have cut loose the future of the priesthood from the fate of David. They have said farewell to that disinherited ruler. After all, one cannot keep on writing epitaphs forever. Today they prefer to bow in obeisance to Caesar. Caesar is not a priest wearing a king’s emblem. He is a king wearing the emblem of a priest. That which Saul had been, against which Samuel had stormed, and for which Jaweh had deposed Saul, substituting David for Him—to that they now make obeisance. It was so long ago that Saul had been deposed; that had long been history. And who can believe that history can prophesy?
Thus it was, then, that the priests of Jaweh in Israel had refused to humble themselves with David, and in that humility to wait for the coming Messiah-of-lowliness. Accordingly, they sell their souls today to the despot of Rome. “Learn of him,” they say, “for he is neither meek nor lowly.”
In this way their priestly service has become a willing tool in the hands of the secular power. They prefer to bow in obeisance to Rome’s power for a time rather than always to unite the crown with a priest who had to remain in captivity with David because the barrier of His body supposedly was the condition for the resurrection of His spirit. Once and for all they had refused to enter the grave with David; in other words, they had once and for all segregated themselves from David’s house. They displayed themselves to the world ostentatiously and expressed themselves as willing to work under the auspices of any king, or any usurper, who would allow them to live an easy life, while still retaining the knife of sacrifice. The priesthood had become the willing tool of the secular authority. The spiritual messianic struggle of the office in Israel, an office which in its tripartite implication (king, prophet, and priest) had to conduct the battle of spirit against flesh, and of the preservation of its hidden sense against the temptation of an outward show,—that struggle had been given up once and for all.
How, now, can they be expected to deal differently with David’s Son at this time than they dealt with David in times gone by? They have no choice but to negate a priestship which seeks David’s grave and which gives the crown to a defenseless Joshua. The forgotten chapter!
Accordingly, it is inevitable that Jesus Christ be denied and by His own scribes. For He is the Joshua of Zechariah’s prophecy. He will maintain His priesthood today, not only by offering a sacrifice but by being that sacrifice Himself. Such a thought is gross folly and an intolerable offense to all priests who can no longer tolerate the idea of a David who is a trunk which has been hewn down. For a priest to become the sacrifice himself is in the absolute sense of the word a complete departure on the part of priesthood from the law of the flesh, which would always make its appearance an external one. The priest who himself becomes the sacrifice enters completely into the sombre law of the hewn-down trunk. No, the priests of Israel cannot bear the thought that Jesus is called a “priest.” The idea of a priestly law which makes the priest identical with the sacrifice has never occurred to them. Therefore they separate the concept of priest and king. They have seen Jesus the Nazarene make His appearance in the visible world, and as a prophet and king take exception to the existing order of things, but they have not the vaguest suspicion of what His priesthood may mean. That the death of the Nazarene must be the fulfillment of His priestly deed, that He must be the sacrifice and not merely the one who sacrifices, is a thought which they have never pondered.
Now it must be said further that not only the logic of the people kept the priesthood of Christ concealed but that Christ’s own will would have it remain a great mystery. The mystery of His true priesthood will not allow itself to be profaned for a moment any more than will His prophetic or His kingly office. In all of His official work Christ is a mystery.
To Pilate He is a prophet who cannot come with an “outward appearance,” for in response to Pilate’s question, What is truth?
He does not give a logically argued refutation based upon human wisdom; and when the Sanhedrin mocked Him upon the prophetic mountain He chose to be silent. His prophecy is not of this world. That prophecy, too, just as He Himself, is obedient to the law of the hewn-down trunk.
The same holds true of Christ’s kingship. My kingdom, Jesus is compelled to say, is not of this world. My servants, He says, do not employ physical force; in other words, they do not come with outward appearance. My kingship maintains, just as I myself maintain, the law of the hewn-down trunk.
Hence when Christ as a prophet and king enters into the dire stress of David, His degenerated father, and with him enters into captivity, Christ must also as a priest fulfill His priesthood according to that same law of florescence out of the hewn-down trunk. As a priest, too, He enters into hiding, into humiliation. Why should He raise the forgotten chapter for discussion here? The other chapters have been denied; and who could possibly gain anything from a fragment taken from the book of Christ’s offices?
In this way, then, Christ’s priestship remained entirely concealed during the very period of time in which satisfaction and atonement were achieved by His ample priestly suffering. The people who were seated in darkness and who knew no priests except those who were the willing servants of false prophets and usurping kings, were unable to do as much as raise a question about Melchizedek’s priesthood. Christ as the high priest according to the order of Melchizedek continued to be the great unknown. He takes His position there as the unknown quantity. Thus He stands between the satellites of Rome who in the name of Aaron induce Caesar to put David’s king to death. Dispossessed souls these are who invite Pontius Pilate, who as the denier of all the fathers’ prophecies asks, “What is truth?” to put the prophet of David’s messianic psalms to death. It was impossible for Him to be anything but the great Unknown to them. Did He wish one day to be the well-known and the well-beloved of His people He must now in His priesthood completely fulfill the law of sacrifice. Accordingly, that priesthood must be kept quite concealed, just at midday, the moment when God’s justice is burning at its hottest. This too was sacrifice. This also was self-annihilation. This terrible silence also was the acceptance of the trunk which was hewn down.
Christ, then, at midday of the Lord’s great day was completely ignored as priest. ... As priest He was completely neglected. . . . But that—that is God’s holy programme for this moment.
The Sanhedrin mentioned His prophecy; but Jesus held His peace. Pilate was troubled about Christ’s kingship; but Jesus held His peace. Everyone is silent on the issue of His priesthood. But Jesus held His peace, for flesh did not see Him, and blood did not know Him. God, revealed in the flesh, must first be seen only by the angels; and only thereupon He will be believed on in the world (1Ti_3:16). This, to be an ignored, neglected, overlooked priest, is an offense which was spared Aaron. Yes, Aaron was spared the offense; but He who is here belongs to another order: He is the priest according to the manner of Melchizedek.
Now Melchizedek never parades publicly in the world. His lot is one of isolation. Prophets of falsehood sometimes make up a stately, martial company; they sometimes incorporate themselves within the retinue of honor who parade ostentatiously in the company of the celebrities making up the kingship of the world (for which reason Isaiah calls them prophets of the tail). The priests of Aaron, or of his ilk, may organize a parade by reason of the fact that they can confer their office upon their posterity, a worldly king may sometimes go storming over David’s grave on his way to the distant future of the promiscuity of Babel, Rome, Jerusalem and Athens. But among these all there is the unique Melchizedek. Without father. Without mother. Without heirs. Without a son to inherit his priestly clothes after his death. He is Melchizedek, the solitary one.
What we wanted simply to say therefore, was that Christ’s priesthood was ignored by the spiritual and secular courts because He had to bear the griefs of Melchizedek, that great and solitary figure in the busy, multiform world. For Melchizedek is very poor. He would have been forgotten long ago, if he had not once met a certain Abraham, or better, a certain Levi, who was still contained in Abraham’s loins. Except for that, he would have been quite forgotten.
Jesus Christ shares his fate. The crowd is growing in size, but each new visitor who makes his appearance upon the square aggravates Christ’s crucial solitude. Besides, Jesus - Melchizedek knows that many others who are also forgetting Him are still contained in the loins of that crowd.
His forgotten chapter lies exposed before Him: if only someone would begin criticizing that chapter. But they do not. They are silent on the matter. They talk about the head (the attractive king and Caesar) and about the tail (the prophet who teaches falsehood), but that which lies between is overlooked altogether.
B. We made reference to a second thought: namely, that the forgotten chapter of Christ’s gospel of suffering does, nevertheless, make its appearance for a moment. This was owing to a certain Barabbas.
The priesthood of which we spoke sustains the service of mercy in Israel. It is the office in which God gives abiding “service” to love and to atonement. The service of atonement finds expression particularly in the sacrifices. However, we would be very superficial if we observed the functioning of the priesthood only in the offer which was presented each day, at a stipulated time, and according to fixed rules. For the priestly service of love, the office of the shedding abroad of the mercy of God, had permeated the whole of Israel’s life. The Love of God did not limit itself to raising its song of praise above the groans of the animals of sacrifice in the temple, but also loudly sang its song at the corners and in the squares of the city. Its incense permeated all of natural life, too. The main theme of the priesthood, the redeeming love of the atoning God, is given expression also in the institution of the year of jubilee, concerning which we had occasion to say something before.[1] This year is a part of the cycle of Israel’s holy festivals as much as is the feast of the Passover, of the Great Day of Atonement, and others. The love manifested in the atonement, the answered prayers of the priests for peace, these are reflected in all of the laws of the theocratic people. It is also reflected in the laws of the citizens, in the governmental laws which, we know, cannot for a moment be segregated from, though they can be differentiated from, the laws of Israel’s religious life and the laws of its ceremonial service. Now this idea of the irresistible love and mercy of God, which spoke to Israel through all the usages and institutions mentioned above, was manifested also in the custom, to which the text refers,—that of granting the people the privilege of releasing a prisoner on the feast day.
[1] See Christ in His Suffering, pp. 404, 418, and 429, Chapter 24, “Christ’s Last Wonder in the State of Humiliation: The Liberator of Slaves in the Form of a Slave”
The text tells us that Pilate, according to an established custom, could regard himself as being obligated more or less to set free a prisoner on the feast of the Passover. We must know that this custom did not hold true for every feast day, but for the Pass over in particular. Apparently the people were very insistent on this privilege. It is obvious that the custom was of reasonably long standing, and was highly valued by the people. It must not be thought that this was a special Roman custom introduced by the Romans without regard at all to the Jewish mind. Such a notion would not be compatible with Pilate’s statement: Ye have a custom, that I should release unto you one at the Passover. From that statement it appears that this usage is one which had its origin in Israel’s own life, was sustained by uniquely Jewish thought and in which a deeply rooted longing and firmly established conviction of the Jewish people itself came to expression. Now it is remarkable that when we read the writings of rabbis in the Talmud or in related books, we observe that no mention is made of such a practice.[1] This fact shows that we are dealing with one of those many “institutions” under which, according to Christ’s own statement, the Pharisees had buried God’s commandment, but one which had its roots in Israel’s peculiar religious consciousness. Many suppose that this practice arose in the time of the Maccabees, a time in which Israel had to fight for its spiritual-religious freedom. However this may be, it is very likely that this practice of an annual amnesty gave expression to the Biblical proclamation which announces generally the coming of freedom for the oppressed in Israel. The message of the law in which God includes all of His elect people had cast an evangelical light upon the condition of the slaves, and, in general, upon all oppressed and unfortunate ones among Abraham’s children. The institution of the year of jubilee is a strong confirmation of this fact, but there are many other less prominent features of Israel’s community life which serve as reminders of that love of God which sheds its rays upon all the bondmen of Israel. All of these features—too numerous to mention—are so many signs pointing to the fact that the practice of releasing a prisoner on the Passover is reminiscent of the actual Passover event itself.[2] In this connection we must recall the statement made in Chapter 5 of Deuteronomy in which an explanation is made of the Sabbath-keeping commandment (In Chapter 20 of Exodus the institution of the day of rest is founded upon God’s own rest on the seventh day after creation). Deuteronomy 5 points out the relationship between Israel’s day of rest, which provided a respite from the hard labor of the days of the week, and the general redemption of the people from the slavery of Egypt. Besides, the law commanded that Israel had to release the slaves again after a while. This custom served to remind the people that they themselves had once been slaves in Egypt and had been set free. The light of grace played upon the whole domain of natural and community life. Even the threshing oxen were regarded by Israel as standing under the sun of grace (Deu_25:4; see 1Co_9:9).
[1] Strack-Billerbeck, in his well-known commentary, tries to illuminate the New Testament by means of the Talmud and Midrasch, and says, in agreement with Schurer, that the custom according to which the procurator of Israel released a prisoner to the people on the Passover naturally had to be based upon a special enactment of Caesar. But he adds that no additional historical evidence or explanatory notice of this custom can be found in the Jewish literature. This fact is particularly significant for us, — the more so because this particular commentator finds analogies and parallel passages for almost every text of the New Testament in all the possible corners and crevices of the rabbinical literature.
[2] Nebe, op. cit. p. 84, calls our attention to the story which is told us in 1Sa_14:24 f. It is possible that such an analogy can be found: the people ask Saul not to spoil the glad day of Israel’s redemption by punishing Jonathan. In any case, however, this can be but a weak analogy.
If we keep all this in mind, we may indicate a connection between the main idea of the Passover—the redemption of the people from the tyranny of Egypt and the atonement of the people by the blood of the Passover lamb, on the one hand, and the release of the prisoner on the Passover day, on the other hand. Was not prophecy—think of Isaiah, and of Jesus’ first sermon—quite permeated by the thought that the messianic day, to which all of Israel was looking forward, should also set free all prisoners? And ever and again Israel’s dreams had gone back to that departure out of the house of bondage in Egypt, had they not? Was not the exodus out of the Egyptian prison the beginning of Israel’s whole expectation for the future? Hence the particular manner in which the custom of setting a prisoner free on the Passover obtained its legalization does not concern us much. The thing that is important for us is that Israel’s national sense and the passion for freedom which ever recurring tyranny whetted in it had to place this custom, once it existed, in the light of its own ideal of freedom. That ideal was the ideal of a fulfilled Passover sometime in the form of Israel’s perfect liberty.
Accordingly, the prisoner who was set free upon the Passover naturally became the popular hero, a prominent figure of the Jewish Chiliasm. This one man who was annually released on the feast of the Passover was thought of as a kind of epitome of a longing people who, like him, would sometime regain a former freedom. This one man became the symbol of Israel’s whole future. In the active imaginations of the crowd this one act of amnesty was sublimated into the festal gift of the advent of a messianic era which would sometime lead all of God’s captives out of the house of bondage. An ardent Passover fire of reconciliation and of freedom illuminated his path between the prison and the temple.
And is it not true now, as we said a moment ago, that in this manner, at the very moment in which the matter of the annual amnesty is being raised in the Passover programme, the priestly element looks around the corner?
We know that is rather a mild statement of the fact But we put it so advisedly, for we would be guilty of making false inferences, and of arbitrarily distorting the historical data which we have and which are very meager, if we accepted as absolute certainty the fact that the people attached the whole Passover concept and the whole Passover reality to the custom of releasing a prisoner on the feast day. We may say no more than we can be sure of. Besides, we ought to take time to ponder how very seldom the masses related the forms of their festivals to the original idea which gave birth to them. This surging mob who come with a great deal of bluster to demand the release of a prisoner do not represent a group of upright keepers of the Passover. Not all of them are wont to wrestle with Israel’s theology and eschatology. Their cry for freedom, their demand that the prison doors be flung wide, their summoning of the Passover hero is a trifle bold. The angels sensed that their cry had a raw and rasping sound.
But what of that, in the last analysis? What does it matter to us whether the people understood very little of the original Pass- over concept expressed in the ceremony of the Passover amnesty? Whether the people understood little or none of it does not affect the issue. The great question is: How much did Christ understand of that concept? The important matter is what thoughts the annual release of a prisoner upon the feast day called forth in Him.
Now we can be perfectly sure that Christ who always lived by the Scriptures always did and now also establishes a relationship between the joyous event of the day and the whole of the preaching of freedom contained in the Old Testament. Christ preached His official sermon to His people upon the basis of Isa_6:1, in which the opening of prisons is referred to as the great festal climax of the messianic day. Hence, He must very consciously have established a relationship between this element of the Passover programme, and the entire service of the love of God as it was shadowed forth among Israel by the law, and was preached by the word. Is it plausible to suppose that He would forget His first sermon now that, at the close of His career, He is condemned to silence? No, indeed, all of His sermons become part and parcel of His inner experience. All the longings of Isaiah, all of the lyrics written by the poets of God and of Israel, and the whole of the profound concept of eventual victory, of eventual freedom, for God’s troubled people, also become an integral part of His personal experience. Jesus kept His silence, but He is listening, is listening profoundly. He listens in on the body of the prophets. In the sensitive awareness of Christ the priestly idea of reconciliation and of peace does not merely come “looking around the corner” as it does for the people, but rejoices aloud in His translucent spirit.
Just what course things took in that crowd is not yet entirely plain to us. There are two possibilities. The first is that Pilate himself hit upon the idea that he might profit from the aforementioned Passover custom, and that he thereupon decided to present Jesus as the candidate for freedom. This is not implausible possibility. We remember that Pilate was suffering embarrassment. It is just possible that in the reasonably long interval during which Jesus was in Herod’s hearing, he made use of his time to ponder upon what attitude he should take over against the matter in case Herod should refuse to condemn Jesus or to acquit Him. During that time Pilate might have concluded to make the people the offer of severely chastising Jesus and to suggest to them that thereafter they should no longer molest Him. Such a proposal would be much more acceptable in the event that Pilate could relate Jesus’ eventual release to the annual custom alluded to above. Much could be said in favor of such a “solution,” and would probably satisfy His enemies. If Jesus were publicly chastised first, and released afterwards, His activity would prove quite harmless in the future. Never in His life would He be able to shake off the odium of having once deserved punishment and of having escaped from the judge and from the death sentence only by a most fortuitous circumstance. Such a solution would give everyone his way, and Pilate would be rid of the troublesome matter.
If this was indeed the course which Pilate’s thoughts took, then he at his own prompting hit upon the plan of relating Jesus’ chastisement and subsequent release to the customary amnesty accompanying the day of the Passover.
But there is a second possibility. It may be that Pilate rather accidentally took the course he did take. We get the impression that, while Pilate is busy with the process of the trial, a mob suddenly makes its appearance upon the scene and informs Pilate by means of a delegate that it wishes the annual amnesty to be granted it at once.[1] Some add to this possibility the fact that the crowd which appeared immediately suggested the name of Barabbas; but this addendum is not necessary to the possibility. It is more than likely that among that crowd there were many who wanted to give Jesus this happy opportunity, those many, in other words, who continued to honor Jesus as a popular hero or as a beloved prophet.[2] Now it is quite possible that Pilate, being suddenly reminded of the amnesty, at once concluded to profit from the circumstances by suggesting that Jesus be the candidate.
[1] This construction of the facts is based upon a very plausible interpretation of the text given in Mar_15:8. The King James version has it that the crowd was “crying aloud.” But the original can also be translated: “and the crowd drew near.” Naturally, this rendering of the text supports the interpretation that the people suddenly make their appearance.
[2] Dr. J. A. C. Van Leeuwen (Het Evangelie Naar Markus, Korte Verklaring van de Heilige Schrift, Kampen, J. H. Kok, p. 195) thinks it likely that the crowd immediately and unanimously hit upon the name of Barabbas. However, we feel that there is not enough evidence for this opinion, and that according to our rendering of the text (see the immediately preceding note), it is not necessary to accept this interpretation. Had the crowd been unanimously in favor of the release of Barabbas, it would not have been necessary for the leaders of the people to influence it to choose against Jesus and in favor of Barabbas. It is likely that some came to demand the amnesty without having a particular person in mind, that others wanted to suggest the name of Barabbas, and still others that of the Nazarene.
Be that as it may, the crowd is making a demand. They want their Passover hero. You may as well say it in a whisper: the idea of the priesthood, the idea of freedom and reconciliation, just manages to look around the corner.
For Christ in this same hour the whole of the Scriptures are an open book. See the thousand-headed mob which is demanding its hero. How many are there among those who relate this Passover tradition to the whole of prophecy, How many of them will hesitate when asked to decide whose release they wish? Besides, how many of those who wish to grant Christ the favor, want to do it because they see the priest in Him, the supreme Bearer of God’s mercy, by which He seeks His longing people?
It is certain that these will be few. And even those few will be making a mistake. For this is the day of the strange, paradoxical meeting of appearance and reality.
Suppose for a moment that Christ had been released on the feast day, that as the bearer of God’s love, as the priest of reconciliation, He had been set free? In that case an injustice would have been done to His priesthood. Christ may not receive the great amnesty as a gift on this day; He must earn it as a right for others. He may not be the object of amnesty; He must be the cause which deserves it. This very day is the end and purpose of all of Israel’s forward-looking laws. This day must provide the legal basis for Israel’s regulations affecting freedom. Hence only by yielding Christ up to death and by denying Him the amnesty can this mark the deliverance of Abraham’s bondmen.
Yes, Christ, this is Thy forgotten chapter: Thy priestly ministration. Thy beautiful office of honor, which Thou wilt fulfill on this day by Thy descent into hell, and by Thy complete sacrifice, is being entirely ignored. It is true that Thou art standing upon the mountain of all kings, of all prophets and also of all priests. But all those who pronounce judgment upon Thee, and all those who come to plead for Thee have quite forgotten Thy priestly office. Thou wast mocked as a king, despised as a prophet, negated as a king and prophet, but there is another grief which has been reserved for Thy exalted spirit. The priesthood, forgotten chapter as it is, although it has been very active in Thy soul throughout the day, will make a brief and slight appearance now. Very brief and very slight. The faint outline of its image will appear, no more. But even in full cognizance of that fact, Thou Thyself must confess that this crowd, even in making its loud petition, is deaf and blind to Thy priestly ministration. Thou Thyself must confess that they are overlooking Thee, precisely as Thou art in Thy reconciling sacrifice. Jesus, dost Thou sense that? The priestly sun is rising; — in response a myriad-headed crowd stintedly turn up the wick in its lamp. Should the light be extinguished, all would be gone. Is this not a negation of the priest! The office of the priest is giving its greatest gift today; it is giving the true Passover bread. But Israel is quarrelling about one crumb which the dogs—the heathen!—have left behind under the table of the children.
Negation of the priest! The Priest’s love is pouring the vessels full of wine, but in response the children of Abraham cry out to Pilate, to Caesar, to moisten the tip of their tongue with a drop of water. Negation of the priest! Even for the best of those in the crowd who still retain an inkling of the relationship of the Pass- over amnesty to the true concept of the theocratic-messianic priest- ship, only two possibilities are open. If they persevere in keeping their Scriptural ideas unimpaired, they cannot beg the favor this day for Thee, Saviour, for the very institution of the priestship would be stranded on the amnesty of Christ Jesus. And if they, motivated by their love for “Jesus,” beg for Thy release from Thy bonds, then their love has succeeded in honoring Thee according to Thy historical manifestation, but not according to Thy office. Then, although loving “Jesus,” they will be negating “Christ.” In other words, they will be tearing Thy life apart, for “Jesus” does not want to be segregated from “Christ.”
How ironical this day is! How painful it is for Thee.
Moreover, it is difficult, O Christ, for all those who hear Thee and love Thee. For all these this day is difficult. It is hard for them to keep from stumbling as they follow the course of love. When their love prompts them to ask that their Jesus be released, that He be made a symbol of Israel’s future day of redemption, they negate Thee as Thou art on Thy priestly mountain, and do just what Pilate did. On the contrary, if they do not implore the judge to grant Thee the day’s favor, they will be voting for Barabbas, or for some other person; in that case they will be voting against Thee, and will be certainly driving Thee to Thy death. Thou, my Saviour, art in a terrible dilemma: not to vote for Thee means to vote against Thee, and to vote for Thee means to deny Thee. Yes, even Pilate discovered the dilemma; he could not regard the situation from the vantage point of the law and, consequently from the vantage point of the gospel. We cannot escape from this dilemma, Lord, unless Thou dost remove all the ballots from the table, and dost tell us: Blessed is he whom Thou hast chosen. . . .
We cannot escape from it. That is certain.
C. And why not? Why are we unable to escape from making the wrong choice?
Certainly, it is a terrible thing to have to make the discovery that even the simplest concept of the priestship, as that concept finds its fulfillment in the Christ but its foreshadowing in the Passover amnesty, can be introduced into the discussion by Pilate only after Christ has been completely made an outlaw.
When we think of that, we know that the important question is not how much or how little the people understand of the priestly element in the custom of releasing a prisoner on the feast day. Then we know, too, that the important question is not how much the love for Jesus which obtained in the crowd is able to understand of the concept of Christ the true High Priest. For it is plain now that every view of the priesthood, inasmuch as it pertains to Christ, to Barabbas, or to any other acquitted prisoner, is arrived at quite outside of the procedure and the justice of law.
Christ is the outlaw; irrespective, therefore, of whether His priestship is thoroughly fathomed or but slightly noticed, nothing more can be done. Pilate has declared Him to be irrelevant to law, and the forgotten chapter of Christ’s priestly love will never regain its position. Irrespective of whether He enters into His death or continues to live, of whether He is named together with another as a candidate for amnesty or whether He is overlooked for that favor, He will have to fulfill His priestly ministration from now on quite alone. He will be supported by nothing, sustained by no one. Even if He should be released presently on the basis of the usage customary to the feast day, even if it could be said of Him that He represented an embodied image of the promise of priestly reconciliation and redemption in Israel, He would gain nothing. He cannot present Himself as the symbol, to say nothing of the fulfillment of the symbol. He is the outlaw even before His name is coupled with that of Barabbas. Moreover, He is that to the whole world (see pages 419-420). He stands outside of the pale of law even before He can become a priestly emblem as the one who was set free on the feast day. What, indeed, can that priest possibly do on earth? It is precisely in terms of His office, and in terms of the office of priest that He has been thrust into extreme isolation. The very idea of the priesthood, if realized in Him in its weakest form —as an emancipated delinquent—will never get the acknowledgment which even human laws are willing to contribute. He is the outlaw, the completely outlawed one. He is rejected, excommunicated by every ordinance. From your and my point of view God’s love is impotent over against this. The love of His people can do nothing for Him. The best which they could demand of the judge in His favor would only serve to malign Him, for the request would be granted only upon the condition that Christ is being regarded as the outlaw. Whoever would grant Him His life upon that condition, would be maligning, would be negating Him while He stands upon His own priestly mountain. And whoever allows no harm to come to Jesus’ soul on this day would be allowing harm to accrue to his own soul.
This is an agonizing irony in which God has involved us.
Consequently, only one possibility is left us if we are not to offend Christ with our “love.” We can be silent, just as He was silent. We can concern ourselves with Christ, not according to any human law, not within the circle circumscribed by any human ordinance, but by including Him and ourselves solely and purely within the fellowship and within the province of the law of God. That law is the law of eternal justice, and of a self-revealing love which comes from above. Lord, there is no room for Him in me. Even my frailest images are of no relevance to Him according to my point of view and in terms of my law. Lord God, I see no way in which I can assign a place to Him and His symbols. . . . Lord, He is the outlaw, and unless Thou dost Thyself fulfill the symbol, all the temples of the world will hold their peace.
D. Naturally, the significance of all these considerations should serve to humble us. Human love and human “sympathy” proved unable to do anything for Jesus on this occasion. We see that to vote for “Jesus” at this time is to vote against “Christ.” Whoever chooses to vote in this way wishes to impart life to the Chief Priest, the most generous of givers, in patronizing generosity, and to forget the sacrifice entirely.
Has this any significance for us?
Indeed, it has. The chapter of Christ’s priesthood which was forgotten at this time is frequently forgotten by us also. To give attention to the prophet and to the king in Jesus, but to ignore the priest is a fault which is not peculiar to the judges who promoted the litigation against Jesus. It is our error also. There are many to whom the priestly service of Christ amounts to a forgotten chapter. They are willing to accept Him as a prophet and a king, but they reject Him as a priest. They reject Him and His symbols. Their thoughts, their actions, and the choices and laws of their life never give any attention to the priest in Christ.
In response I hear someone say that those who so neglect the priesthood of Christ are the liberals; that we are the orthodox; that we devote full attention to the Suretyship and sacrifice of Christ; that among us His priestship is not a forgotten chapter.
I am not convinced that such is the case. I am not sure that you assign a rightful place to the priest in Christ. For why do you, orthodox man, often say, sometimes with a kind of unctuousness in your voice, that “the world” refuses to acknowledge the priest of your confession because the priest humiliates it, because salvation by grace, by perfect satisfaction, humiliates it. Do you mean by that, that as a prophet and a king Christ does not humiliate the world and us? Do you mean that in these two offices He does not crucify us, and does not put us to death?
Surely, if you fix such an antithesis as this between the offices of the Christ, you are wrenching Him apart! Then you become like the world as it is represented here before Pilate. For Pilate also thinks that he can talk about the king and the prophet without any reference at all to the priesthood, as though the three offices could be separated from each other. No, no. He represents humiliation and exaltation in all His offices; in each of His offices He is an outlaw according to the flesh, one who determines His own laws for Himself! The very humiliation which Christ places upon us as a priest is the same which annihilates us in His prophetic and kingly activities. As a prophet He must have banished falsehood from us, must have called us liars, before He can communicate a single word of truth to us. As a king He must first reduce us to the plane of slaves and rebels, before He can let a single drop of myrrh fall upon us from His royal hand. Yes, even in our own thoughts, it is a great error to suppose that the humiliating element accrues to us only from Christ’s priesthood. Nevertheless, the truth is that in each of His offices He can exalt us only by first humiliating us. Not only as priest, but also as prophet and as king Christ is foolishness and an offence to us. Any theology which recognizes humiliation in Christ’s priesthood alone may call itself ever so orthodox, but as a matter of fact it stands on the same plane as Pilate, and the Sanhedrin, and the whole of this poor Jewish people. For these three, too, have completely overlooked Christ’s priesthood. Why, you ask? Because they nurtured the foolish illusion that Jesus of Nazareth does affect prophecy, does have bearing upon the kingship, but that His priesthood can be ignored.
The Jews first gave Christ as a prophet a hearing. Only after the hearing did they pronounce Him as a king an outlaw.
But the whole of this gathering of tyrants did not once give Christ as a priest a hearing. As a priest they immediately pronounced Him an outlaw. The Fulfiller, the Intercessor of all the prayers of all the priests had been placed outside of the pale of the law at the time when the last children of Abraham came to present their poorest beggar-prayers, at the time when these came to the “dog,” Pilate, to beg for one small Passover loaf which they might give to one of Abraham’s misformed children, be it to Barabbas or to Jesus.
O Lord, how Thou didst humiliate me,—for I also was among them—when Thou didst open my eyes to this fact. I did not want to be humiliated. And that is why I ignored the priest, supposing that I could obtain the full benefit of the king and of the prophet without Him.
Save my church and save me from this basic heresy. Prevent me from supposing that Christ humiliates me less as prophet and as king, as the preacher of truth and the guide of my life, than He does as priest. Lord, only when the entire Christ completely crushes me will the judgment of the flesh against Christ be completely repudiated by Thee in the courtroom of my conscience. Not until then will the transaction which took place before Pilate seem as foolish to me as a world turned upside down.
For the orthodox church, too, there is reason for being humble. Not always is it able to escape from the error of Pilate and of the Jews.[1] To go on, however. The world, too, is being judged and condemned on this day. The whole world is being condemned. By negating Christ as a priest, and by busying itself with His other offices, it maligned Him greatly. It tore Him as the Messiah into pieces. In this respect Rome, as well as Israel and Esau, becomes subject to judgment. The world declared Him to be an outlaw before He was able to say: I am the lamb of the Passover. It declared Him to be an outlaw before He could ask: May I repeat my first sermon, here at the close; may I repeat my first sermon about the amnesty which will accrue to the prisoners of God?[2] Satan could not contain his laughter when that happened, when the mercy of God which opens the prison gates of Israel was not even given a hearing, when Christ stood before Pilate and wanted to be a priest. As for Israel, it wanted to be led out of the house of bondage, of course, and demanded that a prisoner be released who should serve as a greatly desired symbol of Israel’s dream of freedom. But before Israel made that request, it had led its own redeemer back to the house of bondage. We have mentioned that already.[3] This foolish people discussed the burning question of whether Jesus Christ was the object or the author of Israel’s liberties without referring the question to His own laws and to the teachings of the Scriptures. When this people did that, it was doomed. Barabbas—regarded as a type now—was also doomed. They thought of him too late. Who trembles in the presence of this doom? Who trembles in the presence of this annihilating judgment? Surely he will tremble who lets the priestly love of Christ Jesus be proclaimed to him by the law of God and by it alone.
[1] Partly because it has been more concerned with the structure than with the content of its thinking.
[2] See p. 442, Chapter 23.
[3] See Chapter 11.
For the Man of sorrows the humiliation of this forgotten chapter was very severe. At the very hour in which He was earning and fulfilling Israel’s priestly privileges (for which He was giving His blood on this day) His priestly love could not say one word in defence of His priesthood or of Israel’s privileges. This was a deep humiliation for Him. He was being wrenched apart. Only in the pain of the dismemberment is He able to find Himself again. His priestly heart suffers grievously. But the prophet in Him suffers no less. O God, is this the result of my first sermon? Moreover, the king is being humiliated also: Barabbas, the rebel, is more than I, for Barabbas has not been thrust outside of the province of law. His prison is at least a place in which men embody serious intent. . . . O Christ, who wearest the crown of thorns,—we see the thorn enveloping Thee already. We notice that the whole world has not developed a single system of thought or form of doctrine which systematically raises the issue of the priestly shedding of Thy blood into its discussion. Thy forgotten chapter can be spoken of only outside of the law of Cain, and of Esau, of Moses and of Augustus.
Whence may I know my misery?
Out of the law of God.
Not out of my own laws?
No, for they silenced Him completely. That is the greatest sorrow and there is none that will take it to heart. Christ the outlaw, the Suretyship, is explained by no earthly laws. Thou wast forgotten, Saviour, The shedding of Thy blood was separated beforehand from the feasts of Barabbas, from the law of Moses, and from the forum of Rome. That is the bitter bread which was given Thee to eat on this day. Thy blood is pouring from Thee and no single earthly book of law makes any note of it. The justice of God alone observes it.
Later the Spirit of Christ calls this: Being in the form of a servant. The servant is the outlaw; if He is that no longer He bears a different name. In other words, the name of Christ’s situation here is slavery. This is His humiliation, His offence, His foolishness.
Early in the morning Pilate respected Moses (page 292). At noon he still respected him (page 544 f., Chapter 29). He respected the symbols, and had no eye for the embodiment. We cannot say too much about it. It is terribly difficult to see such things in a world which is held together by a superfluity of laws.