Videre Recte

As one who did not celebrate Holy Week as a child to any degree higher than the occasional waving of branches on Palm Sunday, it has been a joy to revel in the details of each of the days with children of my own. Every year, our family reads Scripture passages pertinent to the day and listens to a playlist of songs crafted around the events of the Week. The passages are truly depthless, but it has been surprising to become convinced that, at least as presented in Mark 11–13, the majority of Holy Week was about pronouncing judgment.

Psalm 118, quoted twice in this section, brings prophetic clarity to the import of these seven days. These were days about the Christ “coming in the name of the LORD” and simultaneously being “rejected by the builders.” The triumphal entry depicts the former, and the rest of these three chapters forecasts judgment on the religious elite for the latter. 

That the general tone of these passages is judgmental is self-evident. Immediately after riding into Jerusalem as king on Sunday, Jesus visits the Temple, the supposedly glorious place of God’s favor and dwelling. However, in a sort of anti-climax—instead of the Son of God manifesting His glory in the place of His Father’s historic dwelling—Jesus doesn’t stick around long. He “inspects” the Temple (περιβλεψάμενος, 11:11) and promptly leaves for Bethany. The next day, He’s flipping tables and driving everyone out—calling the Temple a “robbers’ den” in reference to Jeremiah 7, a passage which foretells the destruction of the First Temple in 586 BC. In Chapter 13, Jesus directly forecasts the Temple’s complete destruction in 70 AD.

Clearly, the Jewish Temple and the resident Jewish leaders were not impressive in His eyes. The chief priests, scribes, elders, Pharisees, Sadducees, and Herodians are his consistently (save once) negatively-portrayed interlocutors, and five times in these chapters, attention is drawn to their hypocrisy, folly, and wickedness.¹

It is clear, too, that the Parable of the Vine-Growers is representative of judgment against these elite.² The vineyard represents Israel;³ the owner, God; the vine-growers, the should-be shepherds of God’s people (the elite); the servants, prophets;⁴ and the son, Jesus. Jesus promises that judgment is soon coming on these wicked shepherds, and that new shepherds will be given for the people of God.⁵

Again, that “the Jews” (the Jewish elite) were nigh under judgment is evident. What has surprised me, however, is that the Holy Spirit, by Mark, seems to be inviting us to read the details and interludes of this section with this tone, as well. Though commentators disagree, the fig tree narrative, the discussion about moving a mountain into the sea, and the narrative of the widow’s offering seem to be intentionally written with a tone of judgment against the elite.

The fig tree is probably the least controversial of the three. In Mark, the fig tree is the bread of the Markan Sandwich centered around the cleansing of the Temple. Christ approaches the fig tree, which gives the appearance of borne fruit (these fig trees produced fruit first and leaves after), and curses it when He finds no fruit where there ought to be fruit (à la Hosea 9:10). He then visits the Temple and its “builders” and, similarly, pronounces judgment on them when He witnesses their unfruitfulness. When He returns to the fig tree, it is withered from the roots, emblematic of judgment language in both Job and Jeremiah (18:16 and 8:13, respectively). Again, some commentators argue against this interpretation of the fig tree, but it is hard to deny that Jesus intended for His disciples to associate its withering with the coming destruction of the Jewish Temple and Temple system. The purpose of the “sandwich” is to confirm this interpretation.

Sticking with this context, then, it would make sense that the rest of the passage is meant to be read with a tone of judgment. Upon returning later to the fig tree, Peter, in awe, says, “Rabbi, look, the fig tree which You cursed has withered.” Jesus replies, “Have faith in God. Truly I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says is going to happen, it will be granted him.”⁶ Though more controversial, this, too, seems intended to be read in a tone similar to that of the preceding fig tree and Temple narratives. That is not to say that the image is solely one of judgment. Paul uses this image to simply talk about great faith in 1 Corinthians 13:2—”if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” Additionally, in a corresponding passage, Luke 17:6, Jesus similarly exhorts His disciples, “If you have faith like a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and be planted in the sea’; and it would obey you.’” Clearly no judgment is intended in that passage, and it is only great faith being exhorted. The message seems to be that faith can accomplish what is humanly impossible. Given these parallels, there does seem to be a similar element at work in Mark 11.

And yet there are several signs that there is also more going on. First, though there is great faith involved in moving a mountain, it is important to note that the mountain is being moved into the sea. Elsewhere in Scripture, mountains being moved, and especially mountains being moved into the sea is clearly emblematic of disaster and/or judgment. Job 9:5 reads, “God is the One who removes the mountains, they know not how, / When He overturns them in His anger.” Psalm 46:2 says, “Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change / And though the mountains shake into the heart of the sea.” Revelation 8:8 declares, “And the second angel sounded, and something like a great mountain burning with fire was thrown into the sea; and a third of the sea became blood.”⁷ Thus, though a picture of great faith, Jesus’ choice of imagery is also conspicuously related to judgment.

Second, the idea of casting a mountain into the sea is directly related, in this passage, to causing a fig tree to wither, an almost certain symbol for judgment, as already discussed. It is as if Jesus were saying, “If you are amazed at my pronouncement of judgment, know that you, too, can pronounce judgment, and in even greater ways than this.” The linking of these two symbols in this way seems natural.

Third, this “judgmental” reading of casting the mountain into the sea fits well within the consistent surrounding context of judgment in these chapters.

Finally, verse 25, unique to Mark in this narrative context, fits best within a “judgmental” interpretation. Certainly, forgiveness fits within the context of prayer (e.g. Matt 6:14). But if moving mountains is simply and exclusively to be understood as a representation of great faith, the conversation as a whole becomes highly parenthetical. It would be as if Jesus were saying, “Yes, I have miraculously pronounced judgment on the fig tree. And while we’re here, I want to remind you to pray great prayers of faith and also forgive each other so that you are forgiven.” Christ certainly has the authority to say what He wants when He deems it best, but this reading is a bit jarring. 

It seems more natural to read this in the context of judgment. Verse 25, if taken as following a teaching that these men can pronounce judgment like Christ just did, functions as a check on the heart behind the pronouncement. This reading would be very similar to the warning Christ gave to James and John in Luke 9:54–56: “And when His disciples James and John saw [that the Samaritans did not receive Him], they said, ‘Lord, do You want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?’ But He turned and rebuked them, and said, ‘You do not know what kind of spirit you are of, for the Son of Man did not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them.’” If we are meant to read a similar meaning into Mark 11:22–25, it ought to be read, “Yes, I have pronounced judgment on the fig tree. Know that you, too, can pronounce great judgment. But be sure that you are, like I am, doing this with the proper heart and perspective. Your priority, like mine, ought to be for people’s salvation, not their destruction. Remember that if you are only after the destruction of the sinner, you can expect to be destroyed yourself.” 

A “judgmental” reading of Mark 11:22–25 does not deny the reality that great faith is required to move a mountain, as affirmed elsewhere in Scripture. It seems clear, though, that in Mark we are intended to understand the moving of mountains into the sea as a pronouncement of judgment. What this means for the modern reader is not entirely clear. It is possible, for example, that this was a teaching intended primarily for the apostles, who did carry out supernatural pronouncements of judgment from time to time (e.g. Acts 5; 13:6–12). Perhaps the application of this passage for non-apostles will manifest itself in an embrace of imprecatory psalms in certain times and circumstances. Care should be taken before taking action on a judgmental interpretation of Mark 11, but we ought to recognize that the Holy Spirit may be asking us to consider what forms that action might take.

Finally, maybe equally controversial for something of such less consequence, the widow’s offering in Mark 12 seems to be written in the context of judgment—not judgment on the widow, to be clear, but judgment on the Jewish elite for what they have done to the widow. The story is familiar: Wealthy Jews were putting large sums of money into the treasury. But when “a poor widow came and put in two lepta,” Jesus said, “This poor widow put in more than all those putting money into the treasury; for they all put in out of their surplus, but she, out of her poverty, put in all she owned, all she had to live on.’”⁸ The traditional case asserts that this woman is being commended for her great faith and generosity. And while that may be implicitly true, the context seems to indicate that it is not the primary point. Jesus has just finished saying, in verses 38 to 40, “Beware of the scribes who devour widows’ houses.” Here, in verses 41 to 44, we are conspicuously presented with a widow. The proximity and the preceding context of judgment against the Jewish elite is meant to help us connect the dots: this widow’s house is being devoured by means of the excessive burdens laid on her,⁹ and she is not being cared for as she ought. She believes she must tithe her last cents because of the poor care of her should-be-shepherds. She is a prime example of the mismanagement of the builders who are in the process of rejecting their cornerstone. 

The story of the widow, like the story of the fig tree and its accompanying symbol of casting a mountain into the sea, serves to establish the plain reality: there is something rotten in the state of Israel. On Palm Sunday, Jesus came as king, and His priority as king was very obviously cleaning the corrupted house of God, just as it will be in His second coming.¹⁰

Yet there is more to the story of Holy Week than judgment. Though the builders who rejected their cornerstone deserved punishment, Mark 12:28–34 recounts the story of one such builder for whom there was hope. Rather than try to trap him, this scribe “recognized that [Jesus] had answered them well.” He asked Jesus which is the foremost commandment. When Jesus again answered well, the scribe responded, “Right, Teacher; You have truly stated that [the LORD our God] is One, and there is no one else besides Him; and to love Him with all the heart and with all the understanding and with all the strength, and to love one’s neighbor as himself, is much more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.” Upon hearing his thoughtful answer, Jesus, for the first time since coming into Jerusalem, commended a Jewish leader: “You are not far from the kingdom of God.”

As presented in Mark, Holy Week was about judgment on the religious elite. They were the “builders” of the house of God, but they had rejected Him in their hearts, just as their fathers had done. On Friday, that rejection would reach its culmination. And yet, for one scribe on Tuesday, and for others later that week,¹¹ forgiveness of sins was not far off. Yes, there was more going on in Holy Week than just judgment announced on the Jewish elite. In Holy Week, Jesus’ perfect redeeming power was on display: making what is bent and broken straight and whole again.

1.  Implicitly in 11:27–33 and 12:35–37, and explicitly in 12:15, 12:24, and 12:38–40 ↩︎
2.  See Mark 12:12 ↩︎
3.  See Isa 5:1–7; also Deut 32:32–33; Ps 80:8–16; Isa 27:2–6; Jer 2:21; 12:16; Eze 19:10–14 ↩︎
4.  Cf. Neh 9:26; Matt 5:12; 23:37; Luke 11:47-50; Acts 7:52; 1 Thess 2:15; testimonies of this persecution found in 1 Kgs 18:4; 19:1–2; 22:24; 2 Chr 24:20–21; Jer 20:1–2; 26:20–23; 38:6; Luke 11:51; Heb 11:37; and Matt 17:10–13; Jewish tradition additionally holds that Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Micah, Amos were martyred ↩︎
5.  Mark 12:9 ↩︎
6.  Mark 11:21–23 ↩︎
7.  See also Ps 97:5; 114:5–7; Isa 41:15–16; 54:10; Nah 1:5–6 ↩︎
8.  Mark 12:41–44 ↩︎
9.  Cf. e.g. Matt 23:4, 23 ↩︎
10.  Matt 13:24–30; 1 Pet 4:17 ↩︎
11.  E.g. Mark 15:43; John 19:19
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