"(Why) Was Jesus the Galilean Crucified Alone? Solving a False Conundrum", Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36.2 (2013) 127-154.

Article (Why) Was Jesus the Galilean Crucified Alone? Solving a False Conundrum Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) 127–154 © The Author(s) 2013 Reprints and permissions: sagepub.co.uk/journalsPermissions.nav DOI: 10.1177/0142064X13506166 jsnt.sagepub.com Fernando Bermejo-Rubio Departamento de Filología Griega, Universidad Complutense, Spain Abstract One of the objections raised against the hypothesis that Jesus was involved in anti-Roman seditious activity runs as follows: if Jesus was put to death as an insurrectionist, why was he arrested and crucified alone, whilst his followers were left unharmed? Although this is regarded as a real conundrum by the guild, the present article proposes that the question has been incorrectly formulated, because it uncritically assumes that Jesus was indeed crucified alone. The article argues that both sound reasoning and significant evidence point to the fact that some followers of Jesus—or at least people related to him through a shared ideology and/or activities—were sought after and crucified along with him. In turn, this allows us to understand in a novel way the reasons for the collective crucifixion at Golgotha. Keywords Crucifixion, (false) conundrums, identity, Jesus the Galilean, seditious activity Das ist in der Form, wie es hier steht, eine ganz sonderbare Geschichte, voll von Widersprüchen, die ursprünglich ganz anders gelautet haben muß (Kautsky 1908). Posing the Right Questions1 A large number of objections have been levelled against the hypothesis that Jesus the Galilean, whatever else he may have been, was involved in some kind of 1. I am deeply grateful to Dale C. Allison, Helen K. Bond, Paula Fredriksen, Tobias Hägerland, Anthony Le Donne, Ramiro Moar, Josep Montserrat, and Antonio Piñero, who kindly made helpful suggestions and critical comments as I was preparing an earlier draft of this article. Of course, none of them can be held responsible for the ideas set out here. My heartfelt thanks go also to Jeff Morgan for his generous revision of my English text. This article is dedicated to Gonzalo Puente Ojea as a token of friendship. Corresponding author: Fernando Bermejo-Rubio, Departamento de Filología Griega, Universidad Complutense, 28040 Madrid, Spain. Email: fjlmbr@yahoo.es 128 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) anti-Roman seditious activity.2 One of the main objections is the following: if Jesus was put to death as an insurrectionist, why was he arrested and crucified alone but his followers were left unscathed?3 If Jesus, according to conventional wisdom, was the sole target of the Romans, this must prove that he was not perceived by them as—and indeed was not—a dangerous seditionist; otherwise his disciples would also have been hunted down. However, Jesus was crucified ‘alone’.4 Accepting that this is a real conundrum,5 quite a few scholars have organized their views of Jesus and his death precisely around this puzzle. For instance, according to Paula Fredriksen, while Jesus was not deemed politically dangerous, the enthusiastic reaction of the crowds in Jerusalem required the authorities to arrest and crucify him.6 Recently, Justin Meggitt has sought to provide a new solution to the alleged conundrum, by surmising that the Roman authorities executed Jesus because they thought they were disposing of a deluded lunatic.7 Unfortunately, these ‘solutions’ are not compelling. Fredriksen’s reconstruction is grounded in a host of assumptions, most of which are uncertain or unwarranted;8 moreover, by overlooking much evidence, she builds a portrait of a politically innocuous Jesus that is rather implausible from a historical point of view. Meggitt’s proposal also faces a number of serious objections. The details amassed in support of his interpretation sit only loosely upon the episodes that they are enlisted to explain,9 and in fact, much of the evidence he provides could be (more plausibly) explained otherwise.10 Furthermore, much relevant material 2. There is an enormous body of literature devoted to ‘refuting’ the claim that Jesus was a seditionist. For the view that virtually every objection can be satisfactorily answered, see Bermejo-Rubio forthcoming a. 3. See, e.g., Hengel 1970: 16; Catchpole 1984: 333; Sanders 1985: 304-305, 317; Brown 1994: I, 683; Theissen and Merz 1996: 403; Bond 1998: 204; Riedo-Emmenegger 2005: 305. 4. See, e.g., Sacchi 1968: 454. 5. ‘Old conundrum’, ‘double mystery’ (Marcus 2007: 421, 422); ‘the core historical anomaly of the Passion stories’ (Fredriksen 2000: 255). 6. See Fredriksen 2000: 234 (on the conundrum, see pp. 9, 224, 240-241). See also Fredriksen 2007: 418. 7. Meggitt 2007: 384 (for the ‘conundrum’, see pp. 379-81). 8. For example, the ‘triumphal entry’ was an important event noticed by the authorities (Fredriksen 2000: 242, 281-82); the crowds were excited by Jesus’ preaching and considered him as Messiah and king even if he and his closest followers never claimed the role of Messiah for him (244); Jesus had lost control of his audience (247, 252); Herod Antipas never tried to halt Jesus (215-17). All these assumptions can be easily questioned with support drawn from the available evidence. 9. See the criticisms made by Fredriksen 2007: 417. 10. For instance, Meggitt argues that ‘from Pilate’s perspective, Jesus would have demonstrated the symptoms of a madman by his behaviour’, because during their encounter he refuses to make any further response to the accusations made against him, thereby displaying the kind of lack of concern for his own fate that typified the mad (2007: 402-403). Jesus’ refusal to Bermejo-Rubio 129 is overlooked.11 Even more decisively, Meggitt does not really explain why Jesus was executed through crucifixion.12 Time and again, the ‘solutions’ to the alleged conundrum prove to be unconvincing. Does this mean, then, that we are facing an insoluble problem? Instead of drawing this hasty inference, perhaps we should begin to suspect that there is no problem at all. Up to now, the usual way of posing the question has been: ‘(If Jesus was crucified as a seditionist), why was he crucified alone?’ This question may, however, have been incorrectly formulated, not least because it assumes that Jesus was indeed crucified alone. Is this assumption correct? Given that it depends upon the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ passion, and that the Gospels are not always reliable in historical matters, I propose a slight but significant change, namely, by shifting the question itself from ‘Why was Jesus crucified alone?’ to ‘Was Jesus crucified alone?’ By tackling the issue in a different way—thinking outside the box—I will argue that this shift in the way the question is posed allows us to discover that we have so far been struggling with a false conundrum. I will contend that a careful examination of the available evidence casts serious doubts on the claim that other followers of Jesus were not arrested or prosecuted with him. Recovering the Identity of those Crucified with Jesus: Initial Explorations The starting-point for the hypothesis that Jesus was not Pilate’s only target is the fact that the four Gospels agree that Jesus was crucified along with two other men.13 Given that scriptural reflection prompted the creation of at least some items pertinent to Jesus’ passion and crucifixion, an elementary hermeneutic of suspicion makes us question whether this particular piece of information is truly reliable. It has often been suggested that Isa. 53.12 LXX (e0n toi=j a)no&moij e0logi/sqh) may have played a role in the elaboration of the scene in Mark.14 This is not unreasonable, but it faces at least two basic objections. First, we should be wary of 11. 12. 13. 14. answer, however, might have been because he was indeed guilty of seditious actions, and had good reason not to give clear answers to a Roman prefect. If Pilate knew that Jesus was a seditionist, he must have perceived his refusal to answer as the typical obstinacy (contumacia) of a Jewish patriot. For example, it seems that Jesus was well known as an eloquent teacher, and such people are not usually considered to be mad. If Pilate had known something about Jesus, he would have realized that there was method in his ‘madness’. See Fredriksen 2007: 417; Marcus 2007: 422. Mk 15:27 (kai\ su\n au0tw~| staurou=sin du/o lh|sta&j); Mk 15.32; Jn 19.18. Especially in the light of Mk 15.28 (see Yarbro Collins 2007: 748). But this verse is not found in important manuscripts; it is probably an assimilation to Lk. 22.37, with which the last four Greek words agree. 130 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) Parallelenfreudigkeit: the notion of a person surrounded by—or classified along with—evildoers is vague and general, and in fact there is no verbal similarity between the passage in Isaiah and the Markan description of the co-crucified.15 It is one thing to argue that the evangelists recalled this Isaianic passage in their writings, but it is yet another to contend that it generated the Gospel report. Secondly, the free creation of this scene is not a plausible suggestion, insofar as it runs directly against the tendency of the Gospels to isolate Jesus.16 Accordingly, there seem to be no compelling reasons for questioning the historicity of this notice. If the kernel of the Gospel reports on a collective crucifixion is deemed reliable, identifying the other protagonists in the scene is important in order to gain more precise knowledge about Jesus’ fate. Strikingly, the identity of these men is left unspecified by the evangelists. Mark and Matthew simply call them lh|stai/. Although it has occasionally been proposed that this designation (probably a code word for political insurgents) might be secondary,17 I find this suggestion unconvincing for a number of reasons,18 not least because, as far as is known, when the Romans controlled Judaea from 63 BCE until the Jewish War, they only crucified seditionists or those thought to be sympathetic to them.19 The fact that this piece of information vanishes in the tradition— Lk. 23.33 calls them kakou=rgoi (‘malefactors’),20 whilst John merely has ‘two others’21—seems to be another example of the de-politicizing process which is perceptible in the Gospels. The current assumption that Luke replaced an original, embarrassing lh|stai/ with kakou=rgoi and that John suppressed 15. The same may be said of the alleged similarity to Ps. 22.17. Moreover, although Luke is the only Gospel that cites Isa. 53.12, one of his ‘wrongdoers’ is depicted in a favourable light, not as an anomos (see Brown 1994: II, 970). 16. See Légasse 1994: 144. 17. lh|stai/ is ‘wohl eine sekundäre Konkretion’ (Reinbold 1994: 166 n. 250, who resorts to a hypothetical pre-Markan passion narrative and refers to Isa. 53.12). 18. The reconstruction of a pre-Markan passion narrative is highly speculative, as is shown by the many theories about its composition. See, e.g., Marion L. Soard’s Appendix in Brown 1994: II, 1492-524. Furthermore, the use of lh|stai/ coheres well with the fact that Mk 15.7 refers to sta&sij and stasiastai/, so a revolutionary activity is likewise implied by the former term. 19. See Kuhn 1982: 724. Roman law restricted this kind of execution to seditionists (see, e.g., Dig. 48, 19, 28 § 15; Dig. 48, 19, 38 §§ 1-2). Their supporters were subjected to identical punishment: ‘Receptores adgressorum itemque latronum eadem poena adficiuntur qua ipsi latrones’ (Paulus, Sent. 5, 3, 4). Given that there is no available counter-evidence, the burden of proof lies with anyone wishing to question the view that the crucified men were lh|stai/. 20. Since the word order in some manuscripts of Lk. 23.32 (e3teroi kakou=rgoi du/o) could suggest that Jesus was also a criminal, many manuscripts invert the word order to e3teroi du/o kakou=rgoi. See Fitzmyer 1986: 1499. 21. Jn 19.18: au0to_n estau/rwsan, kai\ met 0 au0tou= a!llouj du/o. John does not use the term lh|sth/j for those crucified with Jesus, but rather for Barabbas (18.40). Samuel Brandon reasonably enquired whether that silence could indicate that John ‘knew that these two crucified with Jesus were his followers?’ (Brandon 1967: 351 n. 1). Bermejo-Rubio 131 the term altogether is a reasonable surmise. With the aid of two different devices—one univocally identifying the co-crucified as criminals/morally inferior beings, and the other sparing them from any seditious context—both evangelists make a distinction between the two men and Jesus by defusing the dangerousness of any association between the innocent Lord and those allegedly wretched men.22 The evangelists do not make further connections between these two men and Jesus, nor in fact do the overwhelming majority of modern scholars. According to current wisdom, these lh|stai/ are an enigma: we do not know whence they come, and we do not know whither they go.23 Jesus’ story is told as if the two men had nothing to do with him. The two co-crucified are, at best, part of the narrative furniture. Such a widespread assumption is, to say the least, both astounding and suspect. The simplest and most probable reason why a group of men was crucified together by the Romans is that there was indeed an actual connection between them, and that they were tried and sentenced for the same crime. Furthermore, the widespread idea that Judaea was an idyllically quiet land during the reign of Tiberius24 is untenable, as a critical reading of Tacitus,25 Josephus26 and the Gospels themselves prove.27 But, in light of the evidence, the opposite view of a Judaea filled with constant, outright revolts against the imperial Roman order28 also seems to be an unwarranted exaggeration: according to the extant sources, political uprisings and crucifixions were not especially frequent between 6 CE and 41 CE, and the situation was, on the whole, relatively stable. It is highly unlikely that several people who were crucified (accused of sedition) at the same time and in the same place would not be linked to each other in some way. In fact, even if the evangelists reluctantly and indirectly allow their readers to see that Jesus was deemed a kind of lh|sth/j, the same label is used by Mark and Matthew to designate his companions on the cross.29 22. Some scholars even state that Jesus was crucified by the Jews, whilst the execution of the two lh|stai/ ‘was entirely a Roman matter’ (Bammel 1984: 443). 23. See, e.g., Focant 2004: 574. 24. See, e.g., Barnett 1975; Giblet 1974. 25. J.J. Price has argued that Pilate’s stormy term belies Tacitus’s famous judgment that ‘under Tiberius all was quiet’ (Hist. 5.9.2), that Tacitus demonstrates a very sketchy knowledge of Palestine 80 years earlier, and that the fact that Gratus deposed four high priests might indicate a lack of calm already before Pilate’s arrival (see Price 1992: 6). 26. The sequence of reports in Ant. 18.55-87 describes a series of qo/ruboi. 27. The reference to Pilate’s mingling of the blood of Galileans with their sacrifices; the reference to a sta&sij in Mk 15.7 and Lk. 23.19; and the three men crucified under Pilate. 28. See Maccoby 1973: 125; Horsley 2003: 13, 53. 29. ‘As against a rebel (w(j epi\ lh|sth_n) you have come out’ (Mk 14.48 and Mt. 26.55; Lk. 22.52). 132 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) It therefore seems a fair inference that those crucified with Jesus actually had some kind of relationship to him, and that this was the reason why they were crucified together.30 Of course, this contention does not yet allow us to determine the precise nature of that relationship. The following possibilities arise: the men were Jesus’ close disciples; they were Jesus’ followers or sympathizers in a looser sense; they were people belonging to a different group. I will now consider these possibilities in some detail. The fact that we do not hear of any of Jesus’ followers being imprisoned and sentenced with him will make many readers (particularly those prone to trust the Gospels as basically reliable historical sources) quite sceptical about the possibility that the co-crucified men were Jesus’ close disciples. We should not easily yield to this temptation, certainly not before considering some intriguing details in the Gospel accounts. For instance, had not several of Jesus’ followers given the undertaking to die with him (Mk 10.38-39; 14.29, 31)? Be that as it may, several scholars consider it perfectly reasonable that the men crucified with Jesus belonged to his own group.31 The argument usually levelled against the possibility that the co-crucified men were Jesus’ companions is that his disciples were left unharmed. Nevertheless, a closer reading of the pertinent Gospels’ texts indicates otherwise. There are several converging hints which imply that the authorities were indeed interested in capturing Jesus’ followers. First, according to Jn 18.19, the high priest questioned Jesus not only about his teaching, but also about his disciples, who are strikingly mentioned first: peri\ tw~n maqhtw~n au)tou= kai\ peri\ th=j didaxh=j au)tou=. This enquiry is not followed up, and its precise meaning consequently remains obscure. The question, however, betrays some apprehension regarding Jesus’ circle.32 Secondly, the Gospels recount that, when Jesus was arrested, his disciples fled (Mk 14.50-5133; Mt. 26.56). If these passages deserve any credibility, they point to the disciples’ great fear. We also have the story of Peter’s threefold denial: he fears the consequences of declaring that he is a follower of Jesus, to the point that he breaks the loyalty oath to his master. Irrespective of whether this episode has a historical basis, it reveals a powerful motive for avoiding recognition as one of 30. See Lk. 23.40: the crucified are e0n tw~| au0tw~| kri/mati. 31. See, e.g., Eisler 1929–1930: II, 525-26; ‘two of his accomplices’ (Brandon 1968: 103); ‘possibly members of his own movement’ (Maccoby 1973: 218); Montserrat 2007: 142-43. 32. The simplest explanation is that they could be politically dangerous; see Barrett 1978: 527. 33. The contention in Mk 14.50 that ‘all (pa&ntej) fled’ should be understood as an exaggeration. On the one hand, it seems to be the fulfilment of Jesus’ prediction in Mk 14.27; on the other hand, it serves the theological point of highlighting Jesus’ isolation. In fact, Mk 14.51-54 contradicts the generalization. Note that kra&tein is used both in Mk 14.46 and 14.51. Bermejo-Rubio 133 Jesus’ disciples. The simplest explanation of both the flight and the denial is that the disciples feared sharing the same fate as their master.34 Of course, one could argue that Pilate or the Jewish authorities might have attempted to capture the disciples but failed to arrest anyone other than Jesus. This is a possibility, but we should also note that in the scene of Peter’s denials some further significant, and usually overlooked, details can be gleaned.35 First, in Mk 14.67 the high priest’s servant girl says to Peter: ‘You also were with Jesus the Nazarene’ (kai\ su_ meta_ tou= Nazarhnou= h]sqa tou= 0Ihsou=). This kai\ su/ is usually considered odd,36 although not necessarily so if other people had been arrested with Jesus. Secondly, we witness a striking pronominal shift from the singular to the plural. Whilst in Mk 14.67 reference is made to Jesus alone, in 14.69 the servant says to those present: ou[toj e0c au)tw~n e0stin, and in 14.70 Peter is told by the bystanders: a)lhqw~j e0c au)tw~n ei]. The most plausible explanation of these features is that those arrested constitute a group of men, and that Peter is accused of belonging to that same group. One could object that, if there were other people arrested with Jesus, they had nothing to do with him. But the maid significantly adds: kai\ ga_r Galilai=oj ei].37 This seems to imply that several men had already been arrested,38 that they were all Galileans, and presumably constituted a unified group.39 In the Fourth Gospel (18.17, 25) the servant asks Peter if he is ‘one of the disciples of that man’, but this does not seem to be an innocuous reference to the obvious fact that Jesus had disciples, otherwise Peter’s emphatic denial would be pointless. If, as the Gospel writers intend and so many scholars assume, the disciples in Gethsemane were not the target of the authorities, why would Peter feel fear at all? His negation makes sense if—and only if—he is frightened of being identified with a group of men who had already been arrested, since that identification would presumably have led him to suffer the same serious punishment as them. The above analysis counters the widespread claim that the disciples were not searched for; the hypothesis that the people crucified with Jesus might have been his companions is also shown to be a far from fanciful idea. This is all the more 34. The saying about ‘taking up the cross’ (Mk 8.34-35 and parallels; Gos. Thom. 55b) indicates a mutual hostility between Jesus’ followers and the Empire, establishing a connection between choosing Jesus’ way and the Romans’ death penalty against seditionists. 35. On the historicity of this episode, see Brown 1994: I, 621. 36. Marcus 2009: 1018. 37. Mt. 26.73 supplies a clue as to how the bystanders are able to discover Peter’s regional identity: a)lhqw~j kai\ su\ e0c au0tw~n ei], kai\ ga_r h( lalia& sou dh=lo&n se poiei=. 38. The only way of guessing their regional identity would have been through linguistic features, and this means, in turn, that those men have been heard (or more probably, interrogated). 39. Lk. 13.1-3 records that Pilate had trouble in the Temple area with Galileans. See Pesch’s perceptive comment: ‘Ob “Galiläer” hier den politischen Beigeschmack der Verdächtigung als politischen Rebellen hat, bleibt zu erwägen; die heftige Reaktion des Petrus würde verständlicher’ (1977: II, 450). 134 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) so because there is evidence that Jesus’ followers were not restricted to an inner group of (more or less) a dozen disciples, but also embraced a middle circle of auxiliaries and supporters. The presence of such supporters during the last days of Jesus’ life can be inferred not only from the report of the ‘triumphal entry’, but also from Mk 11.1-6 and 14.12-16, which seem to assume the existence of a Jerusalem network.40 As some members of this group must have been involved in Jesus’ activities in the capital city, nothing seems to preclude the possibility that they were arrested and crucified along with Jesus. Admittedly, given the scant evidence, one cannot rule out the possibility that people belonging to a different group were crucified with Jesus, and I readily affirm that the precise degree of the relationship between him and these men is a matter for debate. However, as I argue below, it is reasonably certain that even in this case there existed some relationship between them. If one rules out the possibility that the men crucified with Jesus were his followers, the most likely alternative is that they had taken part in the sta&sij mentioned in Mk 15.7 and Lk. 23.19;41 this group is the only one we hear of whose members were liable to be crucified in Jerusalem during that period. However, then we are bound to take up again the old hypothesis that the sta&sij group and Jesus’ group were somehow interrelated.42 There are indeed a number of significant points in favour of this hypothesis. First, violent behaviour is a common denominator of both groups: according to Mk 15.7, the rebels ‘had committed murder (fo&non) during the insurrection’; according to Mk 14.47 (and parallels), armed resistance, with homicidal intentions, was offered in Gethsemane.43 Secondly, if the men executed with Jesus were connected to the sta&sij, then they all would have been condemned for political reasons, namely, a crimen laesae maiestatis (and in fact they were similarly punished through crucifixion).44 Thirdly, the Gospels do not speak of people being crucified in separate groups, but of a unified group of crucified men. Fourthly, as I have 40. These passages may betray not only the existence of such followers, but the fact that some of them might be previously unknown to (at least some of) Jesus’ disciples. Of course, on a theological level these accounts aim at emphasizing Jesus’ foreknowledge and sovereign control over events. 41. See, e.g., Pesch 1977: II, 486; Marcus 2009: 1043-44. 42. Lk. 23.19 locates the insurrection in Jerusalem, and everything indicates that it had occurred very recently. For the contention that there was a coincidence of this incident and Jesus’ attack in the Temple, and that the two commotions were related, see, e.g., Eisler 1929–1930: II, 459529; Brandon 1967: 263-64, 339; Brandon 1968: 102-103. 43. The act portrayed in Mk 14.47 was not a minor one: ‘Der Schwertzieher begeht kein Kavaliersdelikt, wenn er das Ohr eines anderen abschlägt. Hätte der Schlag nur geringfügig anders getroffen, so wären Kopf oder Hals verletzt worden. Dieser Schwertschlag ist Gewaltanwendung mit möglicher Todesfolge’ (Theissen 1989: 198). 44. The fact that ‘the insurrection’ and ‘the insurrectionists’ are described as well known betrays their relative importance. Bermejo-Rubio 135 argued above, political uprisings do not seem to have been sufficiently widespread during this period and in this geographical area to justify the lack of relatedness as a plausible surmise. Any suggestion that the crucified men’s different provenance from Jesus implies that they were not connected to him is a most unlikely hypothesis. Thus, there are three alternatives: the crucified men were (a) Jesus’ close disciples, (b) Jesus’ followers in a looser sense or (c) people belonging to another group. In the light of my earlier arguments, whichever of these alternatives is chosen, a concrete link must have existed between the three men crucified at Golgotha. Hence, the burden of proof lies with those who seek to deny the existence of such a connection. Interestingly, this point can be strengthened through further reasoning based on another detail attested in the Passion accounts. Recovering the Identity of those Crucified with Jesus: A Man in the Middle The Gospels not only recount that Jesus was crucified along with two other men, but that he was crucified between them. Jesus is crucified in the middle.45 Although this setting is usually accepted in New Testament scholarship and is well established in iconography, its historical value could be—and sometimes has been—questioned. Thus, for example, it is suggested that the image of Jesus between the other two men, ‘one on his right and one on his left’, may evoke the episode of James and John in Mk 10.35-37.46 In addition, it is sometimes proposed that more men may have been crucified with the group, and that the tradition that Jesus was placed in the middle developed for theological reasons, presumably to emphasize Jesus’ importance: ‘Were there others crucified besides the two? The Gospel silence might imply a negative; yet the reason for specifying two is architectonic, so that Jesus might be portrayed in the center between them.’47 I readily grant that these suggestions give much food for thought, but, for a number of reasons, I do not think they are strong enough to debunk the historical reliability of the Golgotha scene. First, as I have already argued, it is extremely unlikely that the scene has simply been concocted, because the collective crucifixion presents dangerous implications in that it runs the risk of relativizing Jesus’ isolation. The portrayal of Jesus would probably have been even more 45. Mk 15.27 (e3na e0k deciw~n kai\ e3na e0c eu0wnu/mwn au0tou=); Jn 19.18 (met’ au0tou= a!llouj du/o e0nteu=qen kai\ e0nteu=qen, me/son de t_ o_n ’Ihsou=n); see also Gos. Pet. 4.10. 46. See Yarbro Collins 2007: 748. Dale Allison has provided a thorough analysis of the literary intertwining of Mt. 17.1-8 (the transfiguration) and Mt. 27.27-56, on the one hand, and the close resemblance between Mt. 20.21-23 and Mt. 27.38, on the other (see Allison 2005: 22632). The same could be done with Mark. 47. Brown 1994: II, 971. See also Légasse 1994: 144; Bammel 1984: 443. 136 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) effective if he had been presented as a single victim. Secondly, regarding the supposed echo of Mk 10.37, the literary parallel is in fact limited. Raymond Brown has remarked that ‘the imagery of an honored seat or throne is so different from what we have here that mention of right and left is not sufficient to establish a parallel, and indeed the vocabulary for “left” is not the same’.48 Thirdly, the repetition of the motif of people being placed each side of Jesus is not striking. For instance, if Jesus made kingly claims,49 his most ambitious supporters would aspire to occupy the best places at his side, and the Romans might have reflected his claims by crucifying his supporters either side of him. As to the idea that the central positioning of Jesus may have been created to emphasize his relevance, this might be begging the question: a good explanation for Jesus being depicted in the centre between two men (or of a larger group) is that he was actually crucified in the centre. I therefore think it is plausible that the reports placing Jesus in the middle of other crucified men reflect a historical fact that is deep-rooted in tradition. What was the reason for it? In an account by Philo (Flacc. 6.36-41) which is often cited in the interpretations of Mark, the pagan populace of Alexandria dressed up Carabas as a mock king, and ‘young men carrying rods on their shoulders as spearmen stood on either side of him (e9kate/rwqen ei9sth/kesan) in imitation of a bodyguard (mimou/menoi dorufo/rouj)’. In Mk 10.35-40, when James and John ask Jesus to allow them to sit, one at his right and the other at his left, their request implies closest participation in his royal glory. The seats to the right and the left of the king are of the highest rank and honour after the king.50 The most plausible explanation of the Golgotha scene is that Jesus was placed in the middle because the Romans considered him to be the leader of the men crucified with him. These men were probably lh|stai/. But did the placing of Jesus in the centre (thus implying his leadership) stem from the feverish imagination of the Romans, or did it arise from some claim made by Jesus himself? To answer this question it is not necessary to resort to pure guesswork, as there is another piece of evidence in the titulus crucis: ‘king of the Jews’. Although its historicity has occasionally been called into question,51 this seems to be a reliable piece of information.52 The formulation of the inscription is not the result of the historicization of a dogmatic motif.53 The emphatic appearance 48. Brown 1994: II, 969 n. 84. The last contention is true if Mk 10.37 is envisaged, but see 10.40 (e0c eu0wnu/mwn). 49. See below. 50. See 2 Sam. 16.6; 1 Kgs 22.19; Ezra 4.29; Josephus, Ant. 6.11, 9. As Pesch comments: ‘Zur “Rechten und zur Linken”…sind die dunatoi/ des Königs’ (1977: II, 156). 51. See Catchpole 1984: 330. 52. See now Allison 2010: 233-40, 244-47. 53. Dahl 1991: 36-37. Bermejo-Rubio 137 of this title in Pilate’s interrogation54—and in the subsequent narrative55—indicates that it figured prominently as the basis of the accusation brought against Jesus. Furthermore, the fact that Jesus is not remembered as rebutting the charge suggests that he considered himself to be a king or God’s viceroy. In fact, this claim can also be inferred from other passages, such as Jn 19.21 and Lk. 22.2930. If the accounts of the mocking of Jesus by soldiers in the employ of Rome (Mk 15.16-20; Jn 19.1-5) possess any credibility, their burlesque nature—which involves a parody of kingly epiphany—provides us with evidence that, for the soldiers, Jesus was a rebel who claimed to be a king. Jesus himself seems to have made a kingship claim that was intrinsically insurrectionist (cf. Jn 19.12; Acts 17.7). If Jesus was placed amidst other crucified men, this would not have been the result of a whim.56 The Roman authority, for the sake of deterrence, mocks Jesus’ arrogant pretensions to royalty by crucifying him between two supporters, ‘thus parodying a king’s retinue’.57 For the reasons already noted, it is my contention that the two men were either part of Jesus’ group, or were at least connected to him through a shared ideology and/or activities. In fact, the historical scene would have been all the more meaningful and significant if there had formerly been some degree of communality or convergence between all these men, since crucifixion (as in the case of other Roman punishments) had an intrinsically mimetic character.58 Any other alternative would not make sense, for the Romans or the onlookers, because an actual political lesson—a terrifying warning— would not otherwise have been taught. The scene does indeed make sense when all the relevant evidence is gathered: a collective crucifixion, traces of the authorities’ motivation for tracking the disciples, some indirect hints that others were arrested with Jesus, the insurrectionist nature of the other crucified men, the depiction of Jesus being crucified amongst them, and cumulative evidence for his royal claims. Despite the impression which the evangelists sought to convey, Jesus, in all probability, was not the only target of the authorities; he was rather arrested and crucified along with several of his followers or collaborators. We cannot know the exact number of 54. Mk 15.2, 9, 12 and parallels in Mt. 27.11 and Lk. 23.3. See also Jn 18.33, 37-39; 19.3, 19, 21. 55. Mk 15.18, 26, 32. 56. In response to the possible objection that, in and of itself, Jesus’ prominence is not necessarily grounded in the fact that he was the leader of those crucified with him, I would note that sound historical reconstruction is not merely built on abstract possibilities, but on the most probable and explanatory course of events. 57. Marcus 2006: 73-74. 58. ‘Crucifixion was intended to unmask, in a deliberately grotesque manner, the pretension and arrogance of those who had exalted themselves beyond their station; the authorities were bent on demonstrating through the graphic tableau of the cross what such self-promotion meant and whither it led’ (Marcus 2006: 78-79). See Suetonius, De vita Caesarum, Galba 9, 1. 138 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) victims, or whether they were captured together or in different places, but there were at least three of them.59 More men could have been captured and crucified, but many had managed to flee.60 In contrast to what is generally assumed, these findings corroborate what was common Roman practice, namely, that not only a seditious leader61 but also his followers would be killed.62 Deconstructing the Synoptic Gospels’ Accounts of the Co-Crucified The evangelists seek to separate Jesus as much as possible from those crucified with him, and they do so by concealing their relationship with him and by referring to them with terms (lh|stai/, kakou=rgoi) that they would never willingly use to label Jesus. Yet another device is used by the evangelists to establish a clear distinction between Jesus and the other crucified men: Mk 15.32b (Mt. 27.44) tells us something about what the two men allegedly said, whereas Lk. 23.39-43 attributes direct speech to them. As these passages are deemed to be the creations of the evangelists, their historical value is negligible because they fit a theological agenda. The increasing accumulation of hostility towards Jesus demonstrates that he is dramatically singled out in this scene as everybody’s target, which accords with the early Christian contention that the Christ had been rejected by all. Given the difficulty of accepting that Jewish religious leaders would have publicly reviled a co-religionist who was hanging on a cross after being crucified by soldiers in the service of the Roman Empire, it is also unlikely, from a historical point of view, that Jesus’ co-crucified would have mocked him.63 The Lukan story is likewise suspect. First, it does not enjoy multiple attestation. Secondly, it could have been inspired by biblical antecedents.64 Thirdly, it tallies too neatly with the writer’s apologetic agenda, in that it provides another impartial witness to Jesus’ innocence, and provides yet another example of the Lukan themes of human repentance and dominical forgiveness exercised during the passion.65 Fourthly, much typically Lukan terminology is found in the 59. In light of Mk 15.7, the conjecture that other people could be crucified along with them is not unreasonable. 60. See Allison 2010: 236 n. 60. It is evidently possible that people could escape an attack; according to Josephus (War 2.261-62; Ant. 20.169), the Egyptian managed to flee when his group was being attacked by the Romans. 61. So Tacitus about Tacfarinas: ‘non nisi duce interfecto requiem belli fore’ (Annals 4.25, 3). 62. The ideological need to deny the most probable reconstruction is attested by the fact that some scholars, after claiming that Jesus was crucified alone, proceed to ‘argue’ that even if other insurrectionists had been crucified alongside him, their numbers would have been too low (see Sacchi 1968: 454). 63. That these stories are slanders is explicitly stated, e.g., by Maccoby 1973: 218. 64. Brown 1994: II, 1001 n. 49; 1002-1003. 65. See Brown 1994: II, 1000. Bermejo-Rubio 139 narrative. All this has led most scholars to consider it as a haggadic development of Mark/Matthew that serves theological purposes. It could be argued that these four factors do not conclusively demonstrate that Luke’s account lacks historical value.66 Thus, even if it is doubtful that the Lukan narrative (and the other Synoptic texts) can be considered historically trustworthy, I will examine them without precluding their historical significance.67 I will contend that a careful survey of these texts allows us to infer that their meaning is quite different from what is traditionally ascribed to them. The first interesting feature to be noted is that the two men’s reported behaviour in Mark and Matthew gives the lie to the claim that they had nothing to do with Jesus. At first sight, the fact that they rail against him seems to suggest that Jesus is not one of them. However, this may be plausible on a literary but not on a historical level. If these two men had been crucified with Jesus by sheer chance alone, why would they have reviled him at all? It is difficult to understand why those suffering a terrible death and having nothing to do with Jesus would react negatively towards him unless they had taken part in an enterprise led or prompted by Jesus as auctor seditionis and were disappointed at the result. With regard to the Lukan account, just as other characters had sneered at Jesus, one of those men hanging by his side says: ‘Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us’ (23.39). The evangelist’s aim is clear: this figure closes the circle of those who mock Jesus. Nevertheless, as Robert Eisler has shrewdly remarked, the Lukan assumption that this person was a common criminal makes his declaration incomprehensible, for a common criminal would not have any particular reason to expect the Messiah to save him. The wording of his declaration does not allow us to determine whether his words amount to sarcasm intended to mock Jesus, or express a desperate plea on his part. However, even if it is intended as mockery, and even if Jesus’ death ‘put an end to the great dream of his messiahship’,68 the crucified man’s words imply that, if Jesus had been able to descend from the cross, he would have saved those who were condemned with him. This claim makes sense only if the speaker deems himself (and his companion) to be worthy of deliverance by the Messiah. This, in turn, is comprehensible if their crime was not robbery or murder carried out for non-ideological reasons, but one related to some (religiously inspired) seditious act against the Roman oppressor. According to Eisler, this means that they had taken part in Jesus’ liberating enterprise.69 Be that as it may, the words of the crucified man are 66. See García Pérez 1986: 297-304, who assumes an underlying Aramaic tradition from Luke’s special source. 67. Joel Marcus, while recognizing that it serves a Markan purpose, states: ‘The railing at Jesus by his fellow prisoners may be a historical memory’ (2009: 1044), although he does not provide any further explanation. 68. Grelot 1967: 195, ‘mettait fin au grand rêve de sa messianité’. 69. See the perceptive comments in Eisler 1929–1930: II, 526. 140 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) understandable if the speaker has been unjustly condemned; only in this case could he expect a Messiah to take his fate into account. The lengthier speech of the other person crucified according to Luke’s account is even more telling. Whereas in v. 40 he rebukes the words of his companion by alluding to their common state, in v. 41 he declares that they are both being justly condemned: ‘We are receiving what is worthy of what we did, but he did nothing disorderly (a!topon)’. This story is aimed precisely at counteracting the embarrassing question that inquisitive readers have continued to pose throughout history: did Jesus deserve his death? The rebel’s words mean that while crucifixion fitted his own crime and that of his companion, this was not the case with Jesus. Then, in v. 42, with stunning intimacy, he requests an act of kindness: ‘Jesus, remember me whenever you come into your kingdom (basilei/a)’.70 It is noteworthy that several inconsistencies arise when we compare this speech with the words of the other crucified man, as well as with current scholarly assumptions. On the one hand, the speech contains the man’s self-indictment and condemnation of his companion, but this clashes with the above-mentioned contention that the words of the other crucified man are explicable only if he supposes that he has not acted unjustly. On the other hand, and more importantly, although he declares Jesus’ innocence as far as any unlawful action is concerned, his request for kindness assumes the truthfulness of Jesus’ claim to kingship and that he ‘has the kingly power to dispense at will royal benefits’.71 This, in turn, means that the man not only knows that Jesus claimed to be a king (as implied by Jesus’ answer72), but also, with the deepest conviction, accepts his claim to kingship. Now, this claim is the unmistakably political charge on which Jesus had been accused and sentenced: from a Roman point of view, Jesus is guilty of the crime of laesa maiestas. Therefore, despite himself (v. 41) and despite the evangelist’s aim, this man’s last words (v. 42), however indirectly, confirm that Jesus has been rightly condemned. At the same time, by expressing his belief in the true kingship of Jesus, he confirms that he is a faithful follower of his leader. The inference that the man crucified with Jesus could have been one of his followers recalls several other texts referring to the disciples. It is difficult to detect a real difference between the hopes contained in Lk. 23.42 and those expressed in Acts 1.6; in both passages, the uncertainty about the timing of the arrival of the basilei/a is connected to a deep hope in its coming. As to Jesus’ 70. This man’s air of familiarity with his interlocutor is striking; he is one of the few people in the Gospels to address him with an unqualified ‘Jesus’ (see Loisy 1924: 559). ‘Such familiarity has struck some interpreters as illogical on the part of a convicted evildoer who encounters Jesus for the first time’ (Brown 1994: II, 1005). But is this further evidence of closeness to his ‘king’? 71. As stated by Brown (1994: II, 1005). 72. Jesus corroborates his lordship because he does not delay his power until an enthronement ad calendas graecas; his power will be demonstrated today (sh/meron). Bermejo-Rubio 141 answer in Lk. 23.43, it is difficult to distinguish the promises involved from those made to the disciples about their participation in the kingdom.73 The solemnity of Jesus’ declaration (a)mh/n soi le/gw) supports the contention that the other man will be ‘with’ him.74 This is not surprising, as Jesus’ promises to his disciples were based on their intimate relationship with him, and, more specifically, on the fact that they had ‘continued with me in my trials’. Those who are crucified with him have remained with Jesus throughout his peirasmoi/; they have truly drunk from the same cup as Jesus. Although the whole passage was most probably created by Luke or his sources, the sobering lesson to be drawn from an analysis of the words of those crucified with Jesus is that they allow us to deconstruct the traditional view. The second man’s attempt to dissociate Jesus from himself (and his companion) by blaming himself (and his companion), as well as by absolving Jesus, is inconsistent, because his words express his full solidarity with Jesus’ kingly claims and fate (similar to the way that the cry of the other man implies the solidarity of the true Messiah with those who are crucified with him).75 In other words, if the two men crucified with Jesus are guilty, so is he; if he is innocent, so are they. The first judgment (all three are guilty) reflects the point of view of the Roman rulers; the second view (all three are innocent) reflects the perspective of the politicoreligious ideology of the Jewish liberation movements. Far from it, the assumption made by the evangelists—and by modern scholars—namely, that Jesus alone is innocent, reflects the de-historicized view of a later Christian reconstruction, which seeks to separate what cannot be separated. This analysis therefore confirms what has earlier been argued in this article: the most plausible historical reconstruction is that the two men crucified with Jesus were, if not his disciples or followers, certainly linked to him through a shared ideology and/or activity. Why was the Identity of those Crucified with Jesus Removed by the Gospel Tradition? While some people will find it difficult to imagine how earliest Christian memory could have simply forgotten the identity of the other crucified men, we should try to ascertain why the evangelists would have discarded this piece of information. There are several possible answers to this question. According to memory theorists, the vast majority of details are dropped unintentionally (via mnemonic distanciation); we should not therefore necessarily assume that overt intentions 73. See, e.g., Lk. 22.28-30. 74. met’ e0mou= (Lk. 22.28, 43). See Mk 3.14 and Grelot 1967: 205. 75. The equivalence of messiahship and kingship in this context is not only attested by Mk 15.32 and Lk. 23.2, but also by the fact that both realities are complementarily referred to by the co-crucified (cf. Lk. 23.39 and 23.42). 142 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) were at work. It could be objected that the ‘missing’ names of the other crucified men were too important to have been forgotten, and so they must have been intentionally dropped. Be that as it may, I will now argue that the absence of these names can be cogently explained. First, it should be noted that a great deal of material, regardless of its importance, has been neglected or removed from the Gospel accounts. For instance, what really happened during the Temple incident? How was it possible for a single person to carry out what the evangelists attribute to Jesus? Did not this arbitrary interruption evoke opposition? What was the reaction of the Temple guards (and the Romans)? Not a single word of explanation is given. And what was Jesus doing at night on the Mount of Olives with a group of armed men? Why is Mk 14.47 silent about the identity of the attacker?76 Did not the assaulted person defend himself? Did not the arresting party react to this bloodletting attack? No answer is given to any of these questions. It seems exceedingly odd that earliest Christian memory failed to register such seemingly momentous events in Jesus’ life, of which many others could be noted.77 The true significance of numerous episodes has been obscured or disguised, either by the evangelists or by the traditions on which they rely. It should not therefore come as a surprise that a veil has been drawn over the identity of the two men crucified with Jesus. Secondly, as I have argued above, the two men crucified alongside Jesus may not have been among his closest disciples, but rather less significant supporters,78 or members of another, albeit related, group. Where and when those men would have been arrested remains an open question: were they caught in the sta&sij mentioned by Mark and Luke, or in Gethsemane, or even somewhere else? If the men were not among Jesus’ closest disciples, the fact that their identity has not been preserved within the tradition is more intelligible; perhaps the chroniclers did not know their names because there were no extant records. Furthermore, it is not difficult to understand why the evangelists would have had an interest in remaining silent about the identity of those crucified with Jesus, and why Christian sources transmitted the idea that he had died alone. On the one hand, had their true identities been unveiled, the Gospels’ device of distinguishing Jesus from, and raising him above, earlier failed revolutionary attempts would have attracted suspicion. It is noteworthy that much of the material which has been suppressed—or whose point has been blunted—concerns episodes (the 76. On this silence, and that concerning the young man in Mk 14.51, see Theissen 1989: 196-201. 77. Moreover, all the Gospel writers are reluctant to state plainly that the sentence of death was pronounced by the governor. On the apologetic motive of the authors of the Gospels, see Winter 1974: 79. 78. Interestingly, these supporters are usually anonymous, as in the case of the tinej tw~n e0kei= e(sthko&twn who allow the disciples to go off with a colt in Mk 11.5, or the oi)kodespo&thj in Mk 14.13-16. Bermejo-Rubio 143 Temple incident, Gethsemane, the pericope of the swords) where violence and/ or seditious activities appear to have been involved. On the other hand, because of early Christian belief in Jesus as an unparalleled godlike hero and in the incomparable soteriological value of his death, there was no interest in preserving the memory of others who were hunted down with him,79 especially if they suffered the same death penalty as Jesus. Such a memory would have aroused embarrassing questions about the allegedly unique potentialities and meaning of Jesus’ death. The theology of Jesus’ expiatory death might have contributed to the omission of some significant information.80 Given the evangelists’ manifest attempt to make Jesus’ fate incomparable and transcendental, it would be dubious, to say the least, to use their writings as historical support for the claim that he was arrested and crucified alone.81 However, this is precisely what most scholars still do today. It could, of course, be objected that Paul describes himself as co-crucified with Jesus, that Luke portrays Stephen’s fate as a replica of Jesus’ death, and that 1 John claims that one must lay down one’s life for others in imitation of Jesus, and that, consequently, the memory of others being executed with him would not have aroused embarrassing questions.82 This, however, might be begging the question. Jesus’ uniqueness and dramatic isolation are essential to the Christian soteriological scheme: his death is matchless, and any comparisons must be countered in advance. Once the notion of Jesus’ once-for-all salvific death had been firmly established, its association with other deaths could be allowed because they posed no threat to the theological schema. In fact, this very association presupposes the notion of Jesus’ incomparable death, because the fate of subsequent martyrs is portrayed as imitating Jesus’ fate, but only insofar as they are deemed to partake of it. It is precisely this incomparability that could have been called into question by the story of Jesus’ crucifixion with those closely related to him. 79. ‘That Peter, despite his violent assault of the high priest’s servant (18:10), has not been arrested along with Jesus underlines the uniqueness of Jesus as the one and only sacrificial victim. Only the “one man”, Jesus, not Peter also, will die for the people’ (Heil 1995: 737). 80. It could be objected that if Mark had known that these men were followers of Jesus, he would have capitalized on it (he could have used such stalwart supporters as models of how Christians should themselves prepare for possible persecution; they would have been commemorated as ideal disciples). My answer to this objection is that perhaps Mark himself did not know that the co-crucified were Jesus’ followers, but that if he did, it is doubtful that he would have capitalized on it, because the theological disadvantages would have far outweighed the eventual advantages. 81. Moreover, any good storyteller with persuasive aims selects information that (s)he wishes to include and omit in order to achieve his/her objective. For recent analyses of the fallibility of memory as applied to Jesus research, see Allison 2010: 1-30. 82. This objection was raised by Tobias Hägerland in a private communication (e-mail, 7 October 2012). 144 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) While the opacity of the Gospels on crucial points, and the terseness of their accounts about the men crucified with Jesus, are baffling at first sight, they become less strange when the logic underlying so many ‘concealments’, ‘memory failures’, cryptic references and elusiveness is appreciated. All this seems to have much to do with Jesus’ true character and fate, which is why it is now necessary to examine the reasons for the execution of a self-claimed king, as well as that of some of his supporters, at the hands of the Roman forces. Why were these Men Crucified? My earlier analysis has demonstrated that the usual question appears to have been badly framed, because it assumes the reliability of the statement ‘Jesus was arrested and crucified alone’. The traditional formulation should accordingly be ruled out, because the Gospels do not speak of a crucified single man, nor about people crucified in separate groups, but about a unified group of crucified men. Thus, instead of asking, ‘Why was Jesus crucified alone?’, it is pertinent to ask: ‘Why were (at least) three men crucified together at Golgotha?’ The simplest and most plausible answer is already indicated by the designation lh|stai/: they were politico-religious insurrectionists. Furthermore, the obvious inference from the fact that Jesus was crucified between these two men, with a placard designating him ‘king’ (usurper), is that he was also involved in subversive activities. For the Romans, he would have been a kind of a)rxilh|sth/j or lh&|starxoj.83 Of course, from Jesus’ perspective—and that of his followers or sympathizers—he was certainly not a bandit or seditionist, just as those crucified with him would not have used any of these designations to describe themselves.84 He was a faithful believer, God’s prophet and spokesman; they in turn were his faithful followers. Why, then, were Jesus and his companions regarded as lh|stai/ by the Roman authorities? It is commonplace to label Jesus’ death as a ‘puzzle’, an ‘enigma’ or a ‘mystery’. In fact, the explanations currently on offer—that Jesus was crucified because he was hated by priests, because he had blasphemed, it was due to a misunderstanding, he was deemed mad, Pilate was the victim of pressure by the malevolent Jewish authorities, or, alternatively, he was capable of killing anyone for the slightest reason—do not necessarily offer adequate reasons for the mors turpissima crucis. This state of affairs accounts for the endless scholarly discussions about Jesus’ death. 83. Celsus used such terms in his assessment of Jesus; see Contra Celsum 2.12; 2.44; 8.14 (th=j sta&sewj a)rxhge&thj). 84. It is bewildering that Mk 14.48b is usually regarded as proof of Jesus’ lack of anti-Roman activities, because it should be obvious that the verse says absolutely nothing about Jesus’ real identity. Due to its negative connotations, lh|sth/j is not a term which would have been used as a self-designation by seditious Jews. See, e.g., Grünewald 1999. Bermejo-Rubio 145 The issue becomes more complex—or, as we shall see, is perhaps simplified— when the fact of the collective crucifixion at Golgotha is taken into account. If a crucifixion was a grave event, this also applied a fortiori to a collective crucifixion. Even if a ruler was ruthless and carried out trials by cognitio extra ordinem—or simple interrogations—to allow him greater flexibility, he must have had significant reasons for crucifying men. In Pilate’s case, he had to answer his own conscience, but also the emperor. Besides, he knew fully that arbitrary crucifixions could incur the hatred of many people against him. Perhaps Pilate did not care in the least about being hated, but he surely cared a great deal about the eventual consequences of that hatred. In all probability the prefect would have much preferred to have powerful reasons for crucifying a group of Jews.85 What could those reasons be? We need not resort to conjecture, because the Gospels provide additional pieces of evidence,86 including the issue of the tribute to Rome. Although countless scholars have clung to a reading that views Jesus as approving the payment of the tribute, interpreting Mk 12 as stating that nothing whatsoever is owed to Caesar makes the best sense of the episode and of its inner articulation.87 That Jesus did not endorse the payment is strongly supported by Lk. 23.2, where witnesses accuse Jesus of forbidding the payment of taxes—a charge which shows no sign of having been invented. This reading is all the more plausible when the consequences of the religious and economic pressure of the tribute on the population and Jesus’ deep concern about socioeconomic injustice 85. Helen Bond’s statement that ‘the execution of Jesus was in all probability a routine crucifixion of a messianic agitator’ (1998: 204) seems unwarranted. We have no explicit evidence that Pilate crucified other people (although he probably did), or had to face other messianic agitators on a regular basis (the only exception, several years later, is the Samaritan messianic claimant), so it does not seem to have been a matter of ‘routine’. 86. A possible misunderstanding must be countered in advance: I do not assume that, if Jesus was crucified as a seditionist, he must indeed have been a seditionist. This would beg the question, and I readily admit that the single datum of the crucifixion proves nothing, because it admits a plurality of interpretations (it could, for example, be explained as the result of a tragic misconception). What I argue in this section—and more thoroughly in forthcoming articles— is that there is much convergent material in the Gospels that points to Jesus’ seditious stance, thus justifying the inference that he was crucified as a seditionist for good reasons. At the same time, it should be obvious that this does not constitute a moral judgment nor a legitimization of the violence carried out by the Roman Empire; it is rather an explanation of a historical event. In this light, William Horbury’s oft-cited judgment on the assessment of ‘Christ as brigand’— ‘The crime of the crucified has been made to fit his punishment’ (Horbury 1984: 193)—could perhaps be true in the case of some ancient anti-Christian polemics, but it is misguided as a general assessment of the hypothesis of a seditious Jesus. 87. Jesus gave a clever answer which entails frontal opposition to the taxes whilst not openly recognizing it. See, e.g., Brandon 1967: 345-48; Puente Ojea 1992: 108-14; Horsley 1993: 306-17. See also now Oakman 2012: 127 (‘Jesus had, in fact, been a lēstēs in advocating rearrangements of debts and tax resistance’). 146 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) are taken into account.88 Most likely, Jesus did oppose the payment of the tribute to Rome, and did so with the same rationale as Judas the Galilean.89 Another crucial point is that there are several converging passages (Lk. 22.38, 49; Mk 14.47 and parallels) which indicate that—at least during the final phase of Jesus’ ministry—his disciples were armed and were prepared to use the weapons they carried. According to Lk. 22.36, Jesus encouraged his followers to arm themselves with swords,90 which means that these texts are inextricably connected.91 All four Gospels record that armed resistance was offered in Gethsemane,92 and three of the accounts identify the one who struck off the servant’s ear as a disciple of Jesus.93 While it is certainly true that most scholars downplay the significance of the passages attesting the presence of swords in Jesus’ group,94 there are in fact good reasons for taking seriously the historicity of those passages.95 Furthermore, this evidence is consistent with the fact that Jesus was remembered as having said and done some other things which are difficult to reconcile with a pacifist avant la lettre.96 88. On the first issue, see Stenger 1988: 127-46. On Jesus’ harsh attitude towards the rich, see Crossley 2006: 35-74. 89. The idea that Jesus clung to his conviction of Yahweh’s lordship finds support in several sayings; see Mk 12.29, Mt. 4.10 (Lk. 4.8) and Mt. 6.24 (= Lk. 16.13). 90. This sentence cannot be understood in a figurative sense (see Cullmann 1961: 23). 91. See Loisy 1924: 522-23. 92. Mk 14.47 and parallels; Jn 18.10-11. 93. Incidentally, the Gethsemane episode further supports my contention that the disciples were searched for. Kautsky (1908: 389) perceptively remarked how unlikely is the Gospel story according to which Jesus (who is portrayed as claiming a pacific attitude) is arrested, whilst the people using a sword with homicidal intentions are left unscathed. 94. Many scholars do not even cite the Gospel passages which refer to swords in discussions of Jesus’ ‘politics’. See, e.g., Riedo-Emmenegger 2005; McKnight and Modica 2008; Oakman 2012. 95. Among them we can enumerate the following: (1) The texts meet the criterion of embarrassment (see, e.g., Maccoby 1973: 188). (2) Swords in Jesus’ entourage are not only present in Luke, but in all the Gospels (Mk 14.47 and parallels). (3) The presence of arms in Jesus’ group (and not only an isolated sword carried by a single disciple) better explains the heavily armed party sent to arrest Jesus and also the crucifixion; usually, Rome did not crucify visionary, harmless preachers. (4) The passages mentioning the swords cohere well with a pattern of evidence pointing to seditious moves and ideas among members of Jesus’ group. (5) It is hard to imagine a convincing rationale for the possibility of an editorial creation. (6) The criterion of contextual plausibility can also be applied (see my remarks below on the Qumran community). 96. The usual objection that Jesus advocated non-violence would be convincing if it had been demonstrated that Jesus really was a radical pacifist, but this is precisely what several passages fundamentally call into question. An analysis of the evidence shows that Jesus ‘zu Gewaltanwendung kein prinzipiell negatives Verhältnis hat’ (Berger 1996: 127a). In fact, Eisler (1929–1930: II, 257-66) convincingly answered this objection. See also Maccoby 1973: 144; Bermejo-Rubio, forthcoming a. Bermejo-Rubio 147 The many devices that have been formulated to water down or explain away the significance of the above-mentioned facts are telling.97 For instance, the contention is unwarranted that Jesus’ group could not be involved in any armed action because the disciples, at most, had two swords.98 The presence of only two swords is refuted by Lk. 22.36 (o( mh_ e!xwn…) and 22.49 (ku/rie, ei) pata&comen e0n maxai/rh|;), both of which suggest that several disciples carried swords, while the second could imply that all of them did. Moreover, the claim that it would be absurd to carry only a few swords for the purpose of a violent encounter does not take into account the lack of pragmatic measures by some eschatological visionaries, nor the fact that several heroes in Israelite tradition, such as Samson, Gideon and the Maccabees, had fought against apparently hopeless odds.99 Surprisingly, this claim does not take into account the fact that Jesus and his disciples seem to have passionately believed that, at the right moment, God—or his angelic legions100—would be on their side.101 The Qumran community, which led an apparently spiritual-oriented life and opted out of practical politics, expected angelic hosts to fight along with them—despite the overwhelming military superiority of the Romans.102 The fact that swords were carried by members of Jesus’ group does not necessarily mean103 that Jesus was a ‘Zealot’ (in the technical sense), or the leader of 97. Jesus has ‘nothing to do with swords, even for defense’ (Fitzmyer 1986: II, 1434). 98. According to Eisler (1929–1930: II, 268), the disciples had two swords each. 99. See, e.g., 1 Sam. 14.6; 1 Macc. 4.30-33; 2 Macc. 8.18-20. 100. According to Mt. 26.53, Jesus said he could call down ‘more than twelve legions of angels’ to bring him aid. Admittedly, he rejects such assistance, but the mere fact that he envisages the possibility of commanding angelic armies is quite significant. Given the extent of the distortion that operated in Jesus’ tradition, perhaps we should not rule out several possibilities: that Jesus hoped the angels would join him, but not at that moment; or that somebody remembered or preserved a sentence which revealed that Jesus hoped that the angelic hosts would join him, but that person thought that it could not be true, and tampered with it in such a way that it meant the opposite. I owe this last suggestion to Dale Allison (personal communication by e-mail, 1 October 2012). 101. Jesus possibly had in mind the example of Gideon, whose army was reduced from tens of thousands to 300. On Judas Maccabeus, who was preparing for the battle, it is said: ‘For he knew that it is not by arms, but as the Lord decides, that he gains the victory for those who deserve it’ (2 Macc. 15.21). 102. 1 QM 12.8-10. See Batsch 2004; Weitzman 2009. See also 1 Macc. 7.41-42; 2 Macc. 15.2224. For evidence of first-century Jews entering the desert, expecting to see divine signs, and facing Roman troops despite being unarmed, see Josephus, War 7.437-40. 103. I emphasize ‘necessarily’. Some scholars state that our sources have dramatically downplayed the seriousness of the danger represented by Jesus and by the events in Gethsemane, where perhaps a battle took place (see, e.g., Eisler 1929–1930; Montserrat 2007). Even if such views are rejected, one should admit that what happened on the Mount of Olives must have later been oversimplified, for the reason that the extant accounts do not make sense. Nonetheless, we can only surmise about the true extent of the group led by Jesus, and (given that we cannot be sure about the size and nature of the troops sent against his group) I opt for a relatively minimalistic view: Jesus had—at least—a small band of armed supporters. 148 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) an army,104 or that the core of his preaching was advocating armed struggle against the Romans. It is probable, as most scholars claim, that Jesus believed that the arrival of the kingdom was in God’s hands, that it would not be established by human might, and, accordingly, that the dirty work of crushing the Romans and their collaborators would be God’s task. However, it seems that this did not prevent him from telling his disciples to arm themselves. A convincing explanation for the extant evidence seems to be that Jesus prepared his disciples for the imminent eschatological manifestation of God at the decisive turningpoint of his (last) visit to Jerusalem.105 This is understandable in the light of the prophetic literature, which states that at the end of time there would be a final battle for which one should be prepared.106 While spiritual—not military—preparedness was paramount, fighting would be required when the hour finally arrived, and so a certain synergism with God is presupposed.107 The sobering fact is that, according to one of our sources, Jesus’ opposition to the payment of the tribute to Caesar explicitly appears among the charges brought against him (Lk. 23.2). Furthermore, the presence of an armed following takes on particular significance in the light of another charge which is repeated time and again: that of stirring up the people.108 Many scholars are prone to believe the evangelists when they say that the witnesses were false (Mk 14.59), but one should take a somewhat more sceptical view. In fact, the bewildering oversight of the above-mentioned aspects has disastrous consequences when it comes to explaining the events at Golgotha, since it forces scholars to offer over-imaginative explanations. It has been aptly remarked that, to be historical, Jesus must have been crucifiable.109 If we take into account the evidence considered earlier in this article, there can be no reasonable doubt why Pilate decided to crucify Jesus and his followers—presumably all those that his soldiers (or the troops belonging to the Jewish authorities, or a combined throng) could capture. Pilate had incontrovertible proof that they were a subversive group. Their leader had been preaching a 104. It is not necessary for a man making royal claims to have an army, and it was not necessary to have a whole army at one’s disposal to constitute a threat to the peace in Jerusalem (especially during the religiously and politically charged Passover season) and to be accused of sedition: even a small group of armed men would have been enough. 105. See Montserrat 2007: 139-40. ‘Die Gewaltsamkeiten im Wirken Jesu häufen sich anläßlich seines Kontaktes mit Jerusalem’ (Berger 1996: 119a; see also 127a). 106. Joel 4.9-10. The prophecy of Zechariah, on which Jesus might have particularly relied (see Zech. 9.9; 14.21), states that the location of the eschatological miracle would be the Mount of Olives (Zech. 14.1-5), and that the Lord of Hosts would raise up the sons of Zion to do battle against the heathen forces. 107. We recall that Judas the Galilean and his spiritual followers were not of the opinion that they did not require God’s help (see Josephus, War 2.451). 108. Lk. 23.2, 5, 14. The verbs are a)nastre/fw, diastre/fw, a)nasei/w. 109. See, e.g., Dunn 2003: 784. Bermejo-Rubio 149 coming kingdom, made royal claims in Jerusalem during the sensitive period of Passover, opposed the payment of tribute, and was surrounded by a band of men who were armed with swords and were ready to use them. Perhaps he also organized some disturbance at the gates of Jerusalem and/or the Temple, in which case things would have been even worse.110 Having gathered together this consistent body of evidence, no ruler in his right mind would have regarded Jesus as a harmless preacher or a deluded lunatic, and no further investigation would have been necessary. There is every indication that, not only subjectively but objectively, Jesus and his followers constituted a threat to public order. Any Roman governor would have sought to remove such a (crucifiable) group, particularly its leader.111 This explains why Jesus was crucified as an insurrectionist and self-styled king, why he was crucified along with some of his followers or collaborators (or people ideologically related to him), and why he was crucified in the middle.112 We are bound to infer that the Roman authorities did not make a mistake or cause a misunderstanding. They knew very well what they were doing when they used this kind of mors aggravata. The available evidence can thus be interpreted without recourse to unfathomable mysteries and false conundrums. Conclusions The starting-point of this article was the alleged conundrum that Jesus was put to death as an insurrectionist, even though he was arrested and crucified alone. My analysis leads me to draw a different conclusion and to offer a more plausible 110. The clash between Jesus’ group and Roman rule has been softened in the Gospels, but it is still audible in the sayings on taking the cross, in the royal claim and the titulus crucis, in Jesus’ promise that his disciples would judge Israel’s twelve tribes, in the disciples’ view of Jesus as Israel’s liberator, in the speech of Gamaliel (Acts 5.35-39) comparing Jesus’ movement with those of Theudas and Judas the Galilean, and, of course, in the collective crucifixion at Golgotha. For a more exhaustive list, see Bermejo-Rubio 2013, forthcoming b. 111. It is not possible to tackle here the issue of Jewish participation in Jesus’ death. The widespread idea that the Jewish authorities played a role in Jesus’ fate is not an unreasonable hypothesis (they were responsible for maintaining public order in Judaea). However, I would contend that, if they did, their intervention must have been along the lines of a scenario such as that contained in Jn 11.47-50, a passage which runs contrary to the Johannine perspective itself, insofar as the grounds for Caiaphas’s recommendation and the Sanhedrin’s condemnation are prudential not theological. It is noteworthy that Jn 11.48 implies a direct connection between believing in Jesus and Roman intervention. Another interesting implication is that Jesus was not acting alone, because a single unsupported man could not have represented such an actual threat. 112. This allows us to unveil the unsound nature of many alleged explanations. Just one example: ‘Spiritual and non-violent resistance was…an essential part of the Messianic ideal as pursued by Jesus. Crucifixion by the Romans was its inevitable result’ (Griffiths 1969: 363). In other words: Jesus was crucified because he was non-violent! 150 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36(2) hypothesis, namely, that, at the very least, the men who were crucified with Jesus shared with him a common ideology and/or activities, and that they could even be among his followers, whether in a narrow or a loose sense. The view that those crucified with Jesus had nothing to do with him is not only exceedingly improbable from a historical standpoint, but it uncritically relies upon the story told in biased sources: only the theological necessity to distance Jesus from any rebellious connection can account for the tenacity with which this view is held.113 Conundrums are sometimes merely figments of the scholarly imagination. We should accordingly start to look differently at Golgotha, and replace the isolationist and devotional Ecce homo with an integrating and more realistic Ecce homines. Although there is every indication that the men who were crucified with Jesus shared his hopes and ideals, and were accordingly by his side until the very end, they have been unfairly forgotten for far too long. Even if one remains unconvinced by the main arguments set out in this article, and still clings to the cherished belief that Jesus was crucified ‘alone’, it should be acknowledged that this assumption cannot be legitimately upgraded to the status of a cogent objection against the hypothesis of a seditionist Jesus; perhaps all that happened is that Jesus’ followers managed to flee. The widespread notion that Jesus could not be involved in significant anti-Roman activity because his followers were not crucified with him is nothing more than a paralogism. In fact, when we take into account the large number of clues that Jesus thought and acted as a seditionist—admittedly an idiosyncratic seditionist, and also much more than that114—the traditional music of New Testament scholarship sounds somewhat out of tune. Unlike what is so often repeated, Jesus received the same treatment as other contemporaneous leaders of popular movements, because he was similar to them in many respects and likewise represented a real threat to Roman rule. This will be a disturbing result for many, but for the historically minded scholar it has a great advantage: the mode of Jesus’ death no longer seems so much of a puzzle. References Allison, Dale C. 2005 Studies in Matthew (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic). 2010 Constructing Jesus: Memory, Imagination, and History (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic). 113. Theological constraints do indeed account for quite a few odd phenomena in the study of the historical Jesus, including the rise and dissemination of the untenable historiographical paradigm of the ‘three quests’. For a thorough treatment of this issue, see Bermejo-Rubio 2009. 114. Let us recall that also Judas the Galilean was a sofisth/j (War 2.117) with a doctrine. 151 Bermejo-Rubio Bammel, Ernst 1984 ‘The Trial before Pilate’, in Ernst Bammel and Charles F.D. Moule (eds.), Jesus and the Politics of his Day (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press): 415-51. Barnett, Paul W. 1975 ‘Under Tiberius all was Quiet’, NTS 21: 564-71. Barrett, Charles Kingsley 1978 The Gospel According to St John (2nd edn; London: SPCK, orig. edn 1955). Batsch, Christophe 2004 ‘Le “pacifisme des esséniens”, un mythe historiographique’, Revue de Qumran 83: 457-68. Berger, Klaus 1996 ‘Der “brutale” Jesus. Gewaltsames in Wirken und Verkündigung Jesu’, Bibel und Kirche 51: 119-27. 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