The Authority of the Son
Early in his public ministry Jesus’ healings had sparked a series of controversies with the religious authorities revolving around the issue of his authority (2:1–3:6). Now there is a new round of conflicts, focused even more sharply on the question of his authority (11:27–12:44). With his prophetic gesture of cleansing the temple (11:15–17), Jesus had pronounced judgment on the very center of Jewish religious life and provoked its rulers. Now they demand an account from him: by what authority has he dared to judge the temple and its leadership? This question prompts a series of discussions within the temple itself, all taking place within a single day (11:27–13:1). Just as the earlier conflicts occasion a revelation of Jesus’ identity, so the present conflicts further unveil his identity and the true source of his authority.
27They returned once more to Jerusalem. As he was walking in the temple area, the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders approached him 28and said to him, “By what authority are you doing these things? Or who gave you this authority to do them?” 29Jesus said to them, “I shall ask you one question. Answer me, and I will tell you by what authority I do these things. 30Was John’s baptism of heavenly or of human origin? Answer me.” 31They discussed this among themselves and said, “If we say, ‘Of heavenly origin,’ he will say, ‘[Then] why did you not believe him?’ 32But shall we say, ‘Of human origin’?”—they feared the crowd, for they all thought John really was a prophet. 33So they said to Jesus in reply, “We do not know.” Then Jesus said to them, “Neither shall I tell you by what authority I do these things.”
OT: Mic 6:3
NT: // Matt 21:23–27; Luke 20:1–8
Catechism: Jesus and Israel, 574–94
11:27 It is now the third time since their arrival that Jesus and his disciples enter the Holy City. As he is walking among the temple porticos, perhaps teaching as he walked, he is approached by a delegation of the three groups that made up the †Sanhedrin (15:1): the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders. These are the three groups that Jesus had prophesied would reject and kill him (8:31). For the first time they openly confront him, challenging him about his recent provocative actions—his triumphal entry into the city (11:7–10) and especially his prophetic demonstration in the temple (11:15–17). Since Mark has already noted their determination that Jesus must die (11:18), the reader is alerted that their intentions are hostile.
11:28–32 Their twofold question brings to a climax the theme of Jesus’ authority. Their point is to force Jesus to admit that they, the temple leadership, have not authorized his actions. But for readers of the Gospel, Mark has already provided the answer: Jesus is the beloved Son sent by the Father (1:11; 9:7, 37), and as such he has in himself authority over all Israel and its religious institutions (see 2:28). He is the “lord of the house” (13:35)—that is, the temple. The question is full of hidden irony: the stewards of the temple, whose authority is only delegated, are demanding that the Lord of the temple answer to them for his actions. Jesus responds, in typical rabbinic fashion, with a counterquestion. His repeated demand, Answer me, reverses the inquiry: now it is the Lord who is calling the stewards to account. His words echo the divine exclamation in Micah: “O my people, what have I done to you, or how have I wearied you? Answer me!” (Mic 6:3). Micah’s prophecy is in a strikingly similar context: an indictment of the greed and corrupt trading practices that have desecrated the temple, and a threat of divine punishment (Mic 6:1–16).
Jesus’ insistence that those challenging him answer his question is not merely a debate tactic. He is seeking to expose the hardness of heart that prevents them from asking their question sincerely and from being open to the true answer. Their inquiry concerned human authority, but Jesus raises the issue to the level of divine authority, linking his own ministry with that of John the Baptist. Now his opponents are faced with a dilemma. On the one hand, if they answer that John’s baptism was of heavenly origin, then they will be forced to admit that they have opposed God by refusing to believe John. And since John had spoken of his own ministry as a preparation for that of Jesus, the “mightier one” (Mark 1:7), they will have to acknowledge that Jesus too was divinely attested. If, on the other hand, they claim that John’s baptism was merely of human origin, they have reason to fear the wrath of the crowds, since all revered John as a †prophet—and now also a martyr (6:21–27).
11:33 Their self-serving calculations bring to light the real motives underlying their inquiry: not an honest search for truth but an adamant determination to maintain the status quo and preserve their grip on power. Their refusal to face squarely the question of whether John—and Jesus—are from God is exposed in their evasive answer, We do not know. Jesus has hinted that his authority is from God but he knows that to say so directly will only give them an excuse for further malice. Yet in his very next words he will in fact proceed to answer their questions—only in a veiled manner, for those who “have ears to hear” (see 4:9, 23).
The Parable of the Rejected Son (12:1–9)
1He began to speak to them in parables. “A man planted a vineyard, put a hedge around it, dug a wine press, and built a tower. Then he leased it to tenant farmers and left on a journey. 2At the proper time he sent a servant to the tenants to obtain from them some of the produce of the vineyard. 3But they seized him, beat him, and sent him away empty-handed. 4Again he sent them another servant. And that one they beat over the head and treated shamefully. 5He sent yet another whom they killed. So, too, many others; some they beat, others they killed. 6He had one other to send, a beloved son. He sent him to them last of all, thinking, ‘They will respect my son.’ 7But those tenants said to one another, ‘This is the heir. Come, let us kill him, and the inheritance will be ours.’ 8So they seized him and killed him, and threw him out of the vineyard. 9What [then] will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come, put the tenants to death, and give the vineyard to others.
OT: Gen 37:20; Ps 80:9–12; Isa 5:1–7
NT: Mark 1:11; 9:7. // Matt 21:33–42; Luke 20:9–16
Catechism: Church as God’s vineyard, 755; Jesus the only Son of God, 441–45
Lectionary: 12:1–12: votive Mass of the Mystery of the Holy Cross
12:1–2 Challenged by the temple authorities, Jesus begins to speak to them in parables, his way of addressing “those outside” (4:11). He tells a story about a vineyard (12:1–9), followed by a quotation from Ps 118 that helps to explain its meaning (vv. 10–11). Like many of Jesus’ parables, this one describes a typical agricultural scene in his native Galilee. For Jesus’ listeners, this vineyard parable would bring to mind Isaiah’s “song of the vineyard,” an allegory about God’s dealings with unfaithful Israel (Isa 5:1–2, 7).[1]
But Jesus’ version takes a new turn: this vineyard owner leased it to tenant farmers and left on a journey. The tenants signify the leaders of Israel, to whom God had entrusted his vineyard. At the proper time—each harvest beginning with the fifth year after planting, according to the Mosaic law (Lev 19:23–25)—the owner sends a servant to obtain his share of the produce (literally, the fruits). Fruit is often used in Scripture to signify the results of good or evil conduct (Isa 3:10; Jer 6:19; Matt 7:16–20). God desires to obtain from his people the fruit of justice, piety, and good deeds (Hosea 10:12; John 15:2; Gal 5:22).
12:3–5 But the tenants’ reaction is shocking: instead of paying the agreed-upon share, they seize the servant, beat him, and send him away empty-handed. Such brazen defiance could hardly be expected to go unpunished. Yet when the landlord tries again to collect his profits the violence continues and even escalates. In the ancient world, to treat someone shamefully could be more offensive even than physical assault (see 2 Sam 10:4–5). The third emissary is killed, and a succession of others are likewise beaten or killed.
In real life, for a landlord to keep sending emissaries in the face of such vicious maltreatment would be folly. But by now Jesus’ listeners grasp that he is speaking of God’s persistent sending of the prophets to call his people back to himself.[2] Like the vineyard owner’s servants, God’s prophets were repeatedly ignored (2 Kings 17:13–14; Jer 7:25–26; 25:4), mistreated (2 Chron 36:15–16), and killed (1 Kings 19:10; Neh 9:26; Luke 13:34). Micaiah, for example, was imprisoned on bread and water (1 Kings 22:27), Jeremiah was scourged and put in the stocks (Jer 20:2), Zechariah was stoned in the temple courts (2 Chron 24:20–22), and Isaiah was sawn in two.[3]
12:6 At this point in the parable, the landlord does something inexplicable: instead of servants he sends his own beloved son. In the Old Testament, “beloved son” signifies “only son,” and is always used in reference to an only son who is destined to die.[4] Mark has already identified Jesus as God’s “beloved Son” at his baptism (1:11) and Transfiguration (9:7). Here Jesus himself claims this title in a veiled way and implicitly answers the question of 11:28: he acts with the authority of the beloved Son and heir, who has come to claim the produce of God’s vineyard. The word for last of all, eschaton, is a subtle reminder that the coming of Jesus signifies the fullness of time (see 1:15), the time of the definitive accomplishment of God’s plan.
12:7–8 But how could the vineyard owner think the tenants would respect his son after all they had done to his servants? Jesus is deliberately highlighting the apparent foolishness of the landlord to help his listeners understand the reckless love of the Father, who continually holds out mercy to his people even in the face of their arrogant defiance. Though his people had rejected a host of prophets, God sent them his only Son, desiring that he be shown honor and respect but knowing full well that he would be treated even worse than the rest. Far from respecting the son, those tenants conspire to murder him and usurp the vineyard. Their reasoning reflects inheritance law at the time, which provided that in the absence of an heir land could be regarded as “ownerless property” and lawfully possessed by the first claimant.[5] Come, let us kill him is an exact echo of the scheming of the sons of Jacob when they plot their brother Joseph’s death (Gen 37:20). Like them, the religious leaders are plotting against Jesus, their own brother Jew (Mark 3:6; 11:18). The parable thus depicts Jesus as true heir of the vineyard of Israel, and the leaders of Israel as the usurpers who have abused their stewardship and seized the vineyard for their own greed. The tenants in the parable end by killing the owner’s son and throwing him out of the vineyard. The vileness of their behavior extends even to denying him a proper burial.
12:9 In conclusion Jesus asks his listeners a rhetorical question and immediately provides the answer. What will the owner of the vineyard do? The Greek reads literally, “the lord of the vineyard,” obviously alluding to the Lord, the God of Israel. God’s longsuffering patience gives way to severity toward the tenants who had shown such flagrant contempt for his will. It is significant that God does not punish the vineyard itself (Israel), but its corrupt leadership. He will turn his vineyard over to new managers who will care for it properly—that is, the apostles, leaders of the new Israel that Jesus is establishing (see 3:14; Luke 22:29–30).
The Parable of the Rejected Stone (12:10–12)
10 Have you not read this scripture passage:
‘The stone that the builders rejected
has become the cornerstone;
11by the Lord has this been done,
and it is wonderful in our eyes’?”
12They were seeking to arrest him, but they feared the crowd, for they realized that he had addressed the parable to them. So they left him and went away.
OT: Ps 118:22–23
NT: Acts 4:11; 1 Pet 2:7. // Matt 21:42–46; Luke 20:17–19
Catechism: the Church as God’s building, 756, 797–98
Jesus concludes with a rhetorical question quoting Ps 118:22–23, a kind of mini parable. With this quotation he moves from the agricultural to the architectural in portraying his rejection by Israel’s leaders. These verses are among those most often quoted by the early Church in interpreting Jesus’ passion (Matt 21:44; Luke 20:17; Acts 4:11; 1 Pet 2:7). Psalm 118 was a pilgrimage psalm sung by worshippers entering the temple (Ps 118:19–29). Indeed, it is the very psalm sung at Jesus’ own procession to the temple (Mark 11:9–10). Thus the building referred to is not just any edifice, but the holy dwelling place of God, the very setting in which the whole discussion is taking place (11:27; 13:1).
12:10–11 The word for rejected is the same word Jesus had used in his first passion prediction (8:31). He himself is the rejected son (12:7) and rejected stone (12:10), cast off by the leaders of Israel but ultimately vindicated by God. Like the wicked tenants and the shortsighted builders, the religious leaders have made a drastic mistake in rejecting him. Yet God will use their error to do something marvelous. He will raise up Jesus to be the cornerstone of a new building, a temple “not made with hands” (see 14:58). It is the first hint in the Gospel that the earthly temple in Jerusalem will be replaced by a new temple built by God himself, the temple of the risen Lord and all those who are joined to him (see 1 Cor 3:9; Eph 2:20–21; 1 Pet 2:5).
12:12 Jesus’ listeners—the chief priests, scribes, and elders (11:27)—have no trouble grasping that he had addressed the parable (the combined parable of the wicked tenants and the shortsighted builders) to them. Yet they refuse to accept its underlying message by acknowledging their sin and turning to God in †repentance. Instead they proceed to fulfill the parable by seeking to arrest Jesus. Temporarily stymied by fear of the crowd, they leave to await a more opportune moment for doing away with him.
13They sent some Pharisees and Herodians to him to ensnare him in his speech. 14They came and said to him, “Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man and that you are not concerned with anyone’s opinion. You do not regard a person’s status but teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not? Should we pay or should we not pay?” 15Knowing their hypocrisy he said to them, “Why are you testing me? Bring me a denarius to look at.” 16They brought one to him and he said to them, “Whose image and inscription is this?” They replied to him, “Caesar’s.” 17So Jesus said to them, “Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” They were utterly amazed at him.
OT: Gen 1:27; Ps 95:9; Jer 18:18
NT: Rom 13:1–7. // Matt 22:15–22; Luke 20:20–26
Catechism: authorities in civil society, 2234–46
12:13 The religious authorities mentioned above (11:27) now send others to try to ensnare Jesus in his speech. This begins a series of three questions posed to Jesus by representative groups of Israel’s leadership: Pharisees and Herodians (12:13–14), Sadducees (12:18–23), and scribes (12:28). The first question, on the payment of taxes to Rome, employs a clever tactic: the Pharisees and Herodians came from opposite ends of the political spectrum, and would have had contrary opinions on the imperial tax. The Pharisees, as members of a reform movement advocating Jewish separatism and strict religious observance, abhorred the presence of a pagan occupying power in Israel. The Herodians, as supporters of Herod Antipas, had a stake in cooperating with Rome and maintaining the status quo. Despite their usual hostility to each other these two groups were united enough in their opposition to Jesus to join forces against him, as occurred earlier (3:6). They approach Jesus as if he were a political candidate, seeking to back him into a corner where any answer he gives will arouse the wrath of one constituency or another. If he supports paying the tax he will be discredited in the eyes of the common people, who resent the Roman occupation. He will then lose the popular support that has made the religious leaders afraid to arrest him (see 11:18). But if he opposes the tax he can be denounced to the government as a rebel.
The Roman Tax
The census tax was an imperial tribute imposed on Judea beginning in AD 6, when Rome deposed the client king, Herod Archelaus, and installed a Roman governor in his place. At that time a census was taken to establish a list of those obligated to pay the tax. There was also a tax on agricultural produce and many other indirect taxes. The census tax was an onerous burden to the Jews and a galling symbol of their subjugation to Rome, and was so bitterly opposed that it had sparked a revolt led by Judas the Galilean in AD 6 (Acts 5:37). The revolt was quickly crushed but helped inspire Jewish nationalism, eventually giving rise to the Zealot movement that spearheaded the climactic revolt and war of AD 66–70.
As a Galilean, Jesus was not obliged to pay the tax, which applied only to provinces under direct Roman rule.
12:14 They preface their question with a generous dose of flattery, designed to prevent Jesus from evading the issue and perhaps to convince the bystanders of their good intentions. They address him as a Teacher who is truthful, who does not pander to human opinion or tailor his words depending on his listeners’ status. In a final redundant compliment they gush that he teaches the way of God. All that they say is true, but it is said disingenuously. Their own actions belie their words, since they do not accept Jesus’ teachings, nor do they admit the truth of what he says, nor are they willing to follow “the way of God” that he teaches. Their very flattery and their inflammatory question presuppose that he will indeed be swayed by human opinion.
The query is designed to trap Jesus in an inescapable dilemma. Lawful refers to God’s law, specifically the first commandment (Exod 20:2–6). For faithful Jews the coin used for paying the census tax represented a gross affront to God’s sovereignty, because of both its graven image of †Caesar and the blasphemous title attributed to him (see below).
12:15–16 Jesus sees through their disingenuous attempt at flattery and perceives the hypocrisy motivating their question. Hypocrisy (from the Greek word for stage actor) is a pretense or outward show that hides a person’s real intentions (see 7:6). He summons his questioners to examine their motives: Why are you testing me? Testing the Lord was a sin for which the Israelites were often chastised (Num 14:22; Deut 6:16; Ps 95:8–9). In fact, by testing Jesus (Greek peirazō) the Pharisees and Herodians are playing the role of Satan, who had tempted Jesus (peirazō) in an effort to derail his messianic mission (Mark 1:13).
In traditional prophetic fashion, Jesus uses a visual aid to illustrate what he is about to say (see Jer 19:1–10; 27:2; Ezek 4). The denarius was a silver Roman coin equivalent to the daily wage for a laborer. Stamped on it was the image of the emperor, who at the time was Tiberius, and the inscription: “Tiberius Caesar Augustus, son of the divine Augustus.” On the reverse side was the title “High Priest” (Pontifex Maximus), claiming that the emperor was the supreme mediator between human beings and the gods. Tiberius’s claim of divinity was a way of promoting the emperor worship that was widespread in Roman civic religion, but was an abomination to Jews. Jesus’ questioners bring him a denarius, revealing that they were carrying the idolatrous coin within the temple precincts. He forces them into their own dilemma by asking a counterquestion: Whose image and inscription is this? In reply, they admit that the portrait and legend on the coin are Caesar’s. By using Caesar’s coins, they are implicitly recognizing his authority as emperor.
Fig. 12. Denarius from the reign of Tiberius Caesar.
12:17 Jesus’ reply eludes the trap set for him and raises the whole discussion above the realm of politics. The common understanding of the time was that coins were the property of the ruler who issued them. By referring to the coin as what belongs to Caesar Jesus implicitly affirms a state’s right to exact tribute. Paying taxes to support the government is not in itself a compromise of religious integrity. Jesus thereby distances himself from Jewish nationalists who refused to pay tribute to the Roman government. But what belongs to God is what bears his image—that is, every human being, including Caesar! Jesus’ listeners recognize that he is alluding to Gen 1:27: “God created man in his image.” The state may lay claim to a paltry piece of metal, but God lays claim to our whole being—mind, heart, soul, and strength (see v. 30). Our obligation to the state, which is limited, is subsumed under our obligation to God, which is absolute. Jesus is implicitly warning his listeners, Do not give to Caesar (to the state, to society, or to any human institution) what belongs to God alone and to his Son: your absolute, unconditional allegiance and devotion (Mark 8:34–38).
The Roman Emperor
Tiberius Caesar reigned from AD 14 to 37 over an empire that stretched from Britain in the northwest to Syria in the east, including all the lands bordering on the Mediterranean Sea. Rome had originally been ruled by a senate of noblemen, but by the first century BC power had become consolidated in the hands of a single emperor. The family name Caesar, inherited from Julius Caesar, became an imperial title. During the first century AD the Caesars increasingly claimed divine status and encouraged emperor worship. The empire was approaching the zenith of its economic and military power, while beginning a downward moral and political spiral that would end with the dissolution of its entire western portion in the fifth century.
The Jews had been subject to Roman rule since 63 BC, when Palestine was conquered by the Roman general Pompey. The idolatrous claims of the Roman emperors and their usurpation of Jewish national sovereignty were continuing sources of outrage to the Jews.
It is no wonder that Jesus’ listeners, recognizing the wisdom of this answer, are utterly amazed at him. Once again his opponents are reduced to silence. This is the last time the Pharisees and the Herodians appear in the Gospel.
Reflection and Application (12:13–17)
The principle Jesus enunciates here forms part of the basis of Catholic teaching on the relationship of Church and state. Other New Testament writings elaborate on Jesus’ principle, affirming both our duty to respect civil authority (Rom 13:1–7; 1 Tim 2:1–6; Titus 3:1–2; 1 Pet 2:13–17) and our overriding allegiance to God wherever civil authority oversteps its bounds or imposes laws contrary to the moral law (Acts 5:29; Rev 13:1–18). The Catechism articulates this balanced understanding. “Those subject to authority should regard those in authority as representatives of God” (2238); “Submission to authority and co-responsibility for the common good make it morally obligatory to pay taxes, to exercise the right to vote, and to defend one’s country” (2240). However, “The citizen is obliged in conscience not to follow the directives of civil authorities when they are contrary to the demands of the moral order, to the fundamental rights of persons or the teachings of the Gospel” (2242).
Whose Wife Will She Be? (12:18–27)
18Some Sadducees, who say there is no resurrection, came to him and put this question to him, 19saying, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us, ‘If someone’s brother dies, leaving a wife but no child, his brother must take the wife and raise up descendants for his brother.’ 20Now there were seven brothers. The first married a woman and died, leaving no descendants. 21So the second married her and died, leaving no descendants, and the third likewise. 22And the seven left no descendants. Last of all the woman also died. 23At the resurrection [when they arise] whose wife will she be? For all seven had been married to her.” 24Jesus said to them, “Are you not misled because you do not know the scriptures or the power of God? 25When they rise from the dead, they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but they are like the angels in heaven. 26As for the dead being raised, have you not read in the Book of Moses, in the passage about the bush, how God told him, ‘I am the God of Abraham, [the] God of Isaac, and [the] God of Jacob’? 27He is not God of the dead but of the living. You are greatly misled.”
OT: Exod 3:6; Deut 25:5–6
NT: 1 Cor 15:35–55. // Matt 22:23–33; Luke 20:27–40
Catechism: Christ’s resurrection and ours, 992–1004; marriage as passing away, 1619
12:18 Like the Pharisees and Herodians above (12:13), the †Sadducees approach Jesus with a loaded question, attempting to force him into an untenable position. As Mark informs his readers, the Sadducees rejected belief in the resurrection, holding that the soul perishes along with the body at death. Their question is designed to prove that belief in the resurrection leads to absurdity.
12:19–23 The question is posed as a hypothetical case, based on a command of Moses that is sometimes called the levirate law of marriage (from Latin levir, brother-in-law). According to this law, if a man’s brother died leaving a widow but no child, the man was obligated to marry his brother’s widow to “continue the line of the deceased brother, that his name may not be blotted out from Israel” (Deut 25:5–6). In the Sadducees’ fictional scenario, each of seven brothers marries the same woman in succession only to die leaving no descendants. This case is curiously similar to the story described in the book of Tobit, which the Sadducees did not accept as Scripture (Tob 3:8). Finally the woman also dies. This leads them to the question that they hope will stump Jesus: whose wife will she be? The question presupposes that one woman cannot be married to several men at once. The Sadducees evidently feel that they have presented an insoluble dilemma, disproving the resurrection.
The Sadducees
The Sadducees were an elite and powerful party within Judaism, consisting of the priestly aristocracy, their families, and supporters. Their name may come either from the priest Zadok at the time of David (2 Sam 8:17; 15:24), or from the Hebrew word for righteous (tsaddiq), or both. They had more lenient religious views than the Pharisees, accepting only the Torah (not the Prophets or Psalms) as sacred Scripture, and rejecting traditions that had arisen more recently in Judaism, such as belief in angels, spirits, and the resurrection from the dead (see Acts 23:6–10). The Sadducees maintained their privileged status by cooperating with the Roman government, and had much less popular appeal than the Pharisees.
12:24 Jesus’ reply asserts in no uncertain terms that the Sadducees are wrong. He attributes their error to ignorance on two counts: they understand neither the scriptures nor the power of God. He then elaborates on these points in reverse order.
12:25 First, the Sadducees do not understand “the power of God” because they fail to recognize that God is able not only to restore the dead to life but to give them a completely new and transformed existence. Jesus exposes the Sadducees’ faulty premise: that the resurrected life will be simply a continuation of earthly life, a mere resuscitation of corpses. On the contrary, it will differ unimaginably from life as we know it now: those who rise from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage. Jesus uses the active and passive forms of the verb “to marry,” used for men and women respectively, implying that resurrected human beings will still be male or female. But sexual differentiation will no longer be linked to marriage or childbearing, since earthly marriage will have fulfilled its purpose. Rather, risen human beings are like the angels in heaven. This does not imply they are disembodied spirits, but that they have a glorious and eternal existence like the angels. With this answer Jesus affirms several points denied by the Sadducees: life after death, bodily resurrection, and the existence of angels.
12:26–27 Second, the Sadducees do not understand “the scriptures.” It is not that they are unfamiliar with the Scriptures—some of them may have memorized the †Torah—but they do not understand the God who is revealed in the Scriptures. They have entirely missed the point of God’s words to Moses at the burning bush (Exod 3:6, 15–16). What they fail to grasp is that for God to be the God of someone, that person must be in relationship with God, and therefore alive. For he is not God of the dead but of the living. God cannot claim to be the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob unless he is their protector and defender—which includes saving them from death in its most profound sense of eternal separation from himself. Moreover, because human beings are embodied, salvation from death is impossible apart from the body. In biblical thought, the body is not just a component of the person, it is the person insofar as the person is present in the visible world. Ultimately, to be alive is to be alive as a whole person, body and soul. Jesus’ manner of reasoning is profound, and very different from the logic we are used to. His argument is based on the absolute commitment, the unimaginable love and care, to which God has obliged himself in choosing to be our God.
By repeating, You are greatly misled, Jesus forcefully emphasizes how foolish and mistaken is the view that the human body is a mere appendage to the soul, destined to be discarded at death.
Reflection and Application (12:18–27)
Every Sunday, Catholics and many other Christians profess our faith in “the resurrection of the body” as we recite the creed. Yet how many are fully aware of this truth and all that it implies? Paul, whose teaching on this topic was rooted in his own encounter with the risen Lord on the road to Damascus, explains that our resurrected bodies will be radiant with divine glory (see Rom 8:18–23; 1 Cor 15:42–44). No longer will there be any sickness, pain, or disability. John affirms that we shall be like God, “for we shall see him as he is” (1 John 3:2). We will share in the very life of God, the eternal exchange of love within the Holy Trinity (see 2 Pet 1:4).
This passage on the resurrection is an important counterpart and balance to the earlier passage on the permanence of marriage (Mark 10:2–12). There Jesus established that marriage, as part of God’s plan “from the beginning,” is a sacred bond that no one is authorized to break. Here he reveals that marriage is a reality of the present age that is passing away (which is not to deny that a unique relationship may remain in heaven between those who were spouses on earth). Earthly marriage, as good as it is, will give way to something far greater: a union with God and all the saints that will infinitely surpass the earthly one-flesh union of husband and wife.
In Catholic tradition, the vocation to consecrated celibacy is especially valued as a sign reminding us of this ultimate destiny (Catechism, 1619; see 1 Cor 7:29–31). Like earthly marriage, consecration to Christ in a vow of lifelong celibacy is the expression of a total and exclusive gift of self. A consecrated woman is “married” to Christ, and a consecrated man is “married” to the Church, in a union that is a source of joy and of abundant spiritual fruitfulness. Those who have the charism of celibacy for the kingdom are signs of the life to which we are all called for eternity.
The Great Commandment (12:28–34)
28One of the scribes, when he came forward and heard them disputing and saw how well he had answered them, asked him, “Which is the first of all the commandments?” 29Jesus replied, “The first is this: ‘Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! 30You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ 31The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” 32The scribe said to him, “Well said, teacher. You are right in saying, ‘He is One and there is no other than he.’ 33And ‘to love him with all your heart, with all your understanding, with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself’ is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.” 34And when Jesus saw that [he] answered with understanding, he said to him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” And no one dared to ask him any more questions.
OT: Lev 19:18; Deut 6:4–5
NT: 1 John 4:11, 20–21. // Matt 22:34–40; Luke 10:25–28
Catechism: the two great commandments, 201–2, 2055, 2196
Lectionary: Infant Baptism
12:28 This conversation with one of the scribes is very different in tone from the preceding disputes. Unlike the Pharisees and Herodians (12:13–14), the Sadducees (12:18–23), and other scribes (3:22; 7:1), this man approaches Jesus in sincerity and good will. As a professional scholar of the Mosaic law, he had observed and wondered at the astuteness of Jesus’ response regarding the resurrection (12:24–27). So he seeks his wisdom on another live issue that was debated among scholars of the day. The †Torah was full of commandments—613 of them, according to later rabbinic tradition—and it was common in scribal discussions to look for the one general statement or overriding principle that would summarize and ground them all.
12:29–30 Jesus responds by quoting Deut 6:4–5, the great Israelite confession of faith known as the Shema (Hebrew for “hear”): Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! By the time of Jesus, this statement was understood to mean that †YHWH is not only the one God of the Jews but the one and only God of the whole universe. In a world of polytheism, the Jews were the only people to have been granted this earth-shattering insight: there is but one God, who has created all things and who holds all things in existence by his goodness and power. His claim on us is therefore total, calling for a total response at every level of our being. To love God is to have a profound reverence and affection for him, to give ourselves over to him and desire to please him above all else. Jesus is spelling out what he had said earlier about repaying to God what belongs to him (12:17).
Jesus uses four terms that, taken together, signify not distinct faculties or parts of the human being but different ways of referring to the whole person. The heart (kardia) is the inner depths of a person, the wellspring from which all our decisions and actions flow (see 7:19). The soul (psychē) is our whole self as a living being, that which Jesus said we must be willing to give up for his sake (8:35) and which he will give up for our sake (10:45). Jesus adds another term, mind, to emphasize that even our thoughts and reasoning must be animated by love for God. The last phrase, with all your strength, emphasizes that love for God is not a sentiment that arises spontaneously, but a commitment that calls for every ounce of our energy. How can such love without measure be possible? Only by our first knowing and experiencing God’s love for us (Rom 5:5, 8; 1 John 4:11).
12:31 The second part of Jesus’ response quotes Lev 19:18: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. Jesus is the first one known to have explicitly combined these two commandments. But they are the foundations underlying the first three and last seven commandments of the †Decalogue respectively (Exod 20:2–11, 12–17). His implication is that they are inseparable: our love for God is concretized and expressed in our love for fellow human beings (see 1 John 4:11, 20–21). To love others “as yourself” means to make their well-being as high a priority as your own (see Phil 2:3–4)—a very demanding standard. Although in its original context “neighbor” meant one’s fellow Israelite, elsewhere Jesus makes clear that our love must extend to every person without limit (Matt 5:43–44; Luke 10:29–37), since the one God is God of all.
The Great Shema
The Shema was and still is the central prayer and confession of faith for Jews. Its full form includes three biblical passages: Deut 6:4–9; 11:13–21; and Num 15:37–41. In fidelity to Deut 6:7 devout Jews recite the Shema every morning and evening. Jewish homes usually have a mezuzah, a little box containing the Shema inscribed on parchment, affixed to the doorpost (see Deut 6:9). Orthodox Jewish men (and sometimes women) wear tefillin (or phylacteries), leather boxes containing the Shema, on their head and hand during prayer (Deut 6:8).
Jesus’ emphatic affirmation of the Shema shows that he did not come to reject or overturn Judaism, but to fulfill it. The New Testament never views the proclamation of Christ’s divinity as contrary to the Old Testament revelation that God is one. Rather it is a disclosure of God’s innermost mystery as a communion of Persons. “We do not confess three Gods, but one God in three persons” (Catechism, 253).
Loving God and Neighbor
A seventh-century Father comments, “Neither of these two kinds of love is expressed with full maturity without the other, because God cannot be loved apart from our neighbor, nor our neighbor apart from God. Hence as many times as Peter was asked by our Lord if he loved him, and attested his love, the Lord added at the end of each inquiry, ‘Feed my sheep,’ or ‘feed my lambs’ (John 21:15–17), as if he were clearly saying: ‘There is only one adequate confirmation of whole-hearted love of God—laboring steadily for the needy in your midst, exercising continuing care of them.’ ”[a]
Jesus concludes: There is no other commandment greater than these. The rest of the law merely spells out how to love God and neighbor. To fulfill this twofold commandment perfectly would be to fulfill the entire law (see Rom 13:8–10; James 2:8).
Burnt Offerings and Sacrifices
The Old Testament gives instructions for several different kinds of sacrifice, including the whole burnt offering or holocaust, in which an animal was entirely consumed on the altar (Lev 1:3–17). In the time of Jesus, when the temple was still standing, Jewish worship was centered on the system of animal sacrifices. The Old Testament affirmed the supreme importance of obedience and love over ceremonial offerings.[a] But even so, for the scribe conversing with Jesus in the temple and surrounded by members of the priestly hierarchy (12:18), to state that loving God is worth more than all the temple sacrifices is a bold statement. Little did he realize that the entire sacrificial system was about to be replaced by the all-sufficient sacrifice of Jesus, the Lamb of God (John 1:29), which simultaneously fulfills both the commandment of love and the old covenant sacrifices. Like the temple holocausts, Jesus would be entirely consumed in his self-offering. Yet the value of his sacrifice is infinitely greater than the temple holocausts because of the fire of love for God with which it was offered. Jesus’ perfect sacrifice becomes the source and model for the love of Christians (Rom 12:1–2; Eph 5:2).
12:32–33 Recognizing the wisdom of Jesus’ answer the scribe voices his approval, adding a common biblical affirmation of the uniqueness of God (see Deut 4:39; 1 Kings 8:60; Isa 46:9). The scribe then elaborates: to love God with one’s whole being and love others is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.
12:34 Jesus in turn praises the scribe’s insight. But his reply is two-edged. The scribe’s understanding of what God truly desires shows that he is not far from the kingdom, the presence and reign of God that has been the object of Jesus’ whole mission (see 1:15). But he is not yet in the kingdom. Jesus has both affirmed the scribe and challenged him to go further. It is not surprising that no one dared to ask him any more questions.
David’s Son and Lord (12:35–37)
35As Jesus was teaching in the temple area he said, “How do the scribes claim that the Messiah is the son of David? 36David himself, inspired by the holy Spirit, said:
‘The Lord said to my lord,
“Sit at my right hand
until I place your enemies under your feet.” ’
37David himself calls him ‘lord’; so how is he his son?” [The] great crowd heard this with delight.
OT: Ps 89:21–38; 110:1; Jer 23:5–6
NT: Matt 1:6–23; Luke 1:30–33; John 7:42; Rom 1:3–4. // Matt 22:41–46; Luke 20:41–44
Catechism: Jesus’ lordship, 446–51; Son of David, 437–39
12:35–37 Up to this point, Jesus has been challenged and questioned from all sides (11:27–12:34), but now his opponents have run out of questions—or courage (12:34)—with which to confront him. From this point on, Jesus takes the initiative. He raises a provocative question: How do the scribes claim that the Messiah is the son of David? Like his earlier reply to the rich man (10:18), this is meant to be taken as a genuine question, not a denial.[6] Jesus is not denying that the Messiah is the son of David, the very title that Bartimaeus proclaimed and Jesus implicitly accepted during his messianic journey to Jerusalem (10:47–48). Rather, he is inviting his listeners to reflect more deeply on what Scripture reveals about the Messiah, the promised son of David. Drawing from Psalm 110, a psalm attributed to King David, Jesus raises an apparent dilemma. But first he emphasizes the authority of this psalm by noting that in composing it David was inspired by the holy Spirit (literally, “in the holy Spirit”). The implication is that the psalm—and by extension, all Scripture—is ultimately attributable to the Spirit of God, and therefore has divine authority (see 2 Sam 23:2; Acts 1:16). Jesus thereby affirms the doctrine of biblical inspiration (see 2 Tim 3:16; 2 Pet 1:20–21).
Psalm 110 in its original context was an enthronement psalm, sung at the coronation ceremonies for the kings of Judah. In it the new king is promised royal dominion and victory over his enemies. The psalmist addresses the king as my lord (Hebrew adoni), a title of honor (1 Sam 26:19; 1 Kings 1:37). The Lord refers to God himself.[7] God invites the king to sit at his right hand, the position of highest honor (see Mark 10:37), until his enemies are utterly defeated. By the time of Jesus, when the monarchy had long ceased to exist, Psalm 110 was viewed as a prophecy of the Messiah, the promised royal descendant of David who would revive the monarchy and restore sovereignty to Israel. But how, Jesus asks, can the Messiah be David’s son if David himself calls him “lord”? In ancient culture, it would be unthinkable for a father to address his son or descendant as “lord.” Jesus is challenging his listeners: What are the implications of the fact that David reveres the Messiah as someone superior to himself? What does this psalm reveal about the majesty of the Messiah? Is he merely an earthly monarch, descended from the line of David, or is he something much greater? Could he even be Lord in the same sense in which †YHWH himself is “the LORD”? Elsewhere the Gospels indicate that Jesus is “greater than Solomon” (Matt 12:42), “greater than Jacob” (John 4:12), “greater than Abraham” (John 8:53); here Jesus hints that he is greater than David.
In interpreting this passage it is beside the point to question whether David himself actually composed Psalm 110 or whether it comes from a later time. The ancient Jews had a broader view of authorship than we do today, and many of the psalms were ascribed to David, who summed up in himself the praises of Israel. In their worship all Israel joined David in addressing the Messiah as “my lord.” Jesus is pointing to the mystery of the incarnation, foreshadowed in the Psalms: the Messiah is the son of David, who is born of God’s people yet in a mysterious way also far transcends them in dignity.
The great crowd heard this with delight, for Jesus had broken open the meaning of the Scriptures for them. For the early Church, Psalm 110 was one of the most important Old Testament prophecies of Christ, fulfilled in its deepest meaning at his resurrection when he won victory over his enemies—sin, Satan, and death—and was enthroned at the Father’s right hand.[8]
The Danger of Honors (12:38–40)
38In the course of his teaching he said, “Beware of the scribes, who like to go around in long robes and accept greetings in the marketplaces, 39seats of honor in synagogues, and places of honor at banquets. 40They devour the houses of widows and, as a pretext, recite lengthy prayers. They will receive a very severe condemnation.”
OT: Isa 10:1–2
NT: Mark 10:42–45. // Matt 23:5–7; Luke 20:45–47
Catechism: judgment day, 678–79; greed, 2536
12:38–39 As Jesus continues teaching in the temple courts he now takes direct aim at the scribes, who have been among his fiercest opponents. Earlier he had warned his disciples to “beware of the leaven of the Pharisees” (8:15 RSV); now he tells his listeners, Beware of the scribes (using the same Greek verb, blepō). His point is not for people to stay away from the scribes, one of whom he has just praised (12:34), but to take care to avoid conduct like theirs. Such conduct—the opposite of what Jesus enjoins on Christian leaders (9:35; 10:15, 42–44)—will be severely condemned.
As professional lawyer-theologians, †scribes were among the most eminent members of Jewish society. Their word was considered to have weighty authority. They wore distinctive long linen robes as a mark of status, and were greeted with great deference by ordinary folk in the marketplaces. All were expected to rise respectfully as a scribe passed by.[9] The seats of honor in synagogues were reserved for them, on a bench directly in front of the ark containing the sacred scrolls. Jesus has just spoken of the real seat of honor, the seat destined for the Messiah at God’s right hand (12:36). At banquets too the scribes were given the places of honor, since the presence of a distinguished scholar would be considered an ornament to the feast. Jesus warns of the danger of relishing and actively inviting these tokens of human esteem.
12:40 Even worse, the scribes have used their privileged status to exploit others. Since scribes were forbidden to receive payment for teaching, they depended on private donations for their living. To subsidize a scribe was considered a meritorious act of piety. That the scribes devour the houses of widows could refer to their mismanaging widows’ estates, or sponging off their hospitality, or charging excessive legal fees, or other ways of fleecing them.[10] Such financial abuse recalls Jesus’ denunciation of the temple as a “den of thieves” (11:17). Widows were among the most vulnerable members of society because of their limited possibilities for income, and therefore among those most deserving of care and support (Deut 24:17, 21; Isa 1:17; James 1:27). The Old Testament often condemns the exploitation of widows (Isa 10:1–2; Jer 7:6; Ezek 22:7). In an empty show of piety, and perhaps as a cover for their fraudulent activity, the scribes recite lengthy prayers. The problem is not that the prayers are lengthy per se but that they are aimed at human beings rather than at God. Like the hypocrites Jesus denounces in Matt 6:2, the scribes “have received their reward” in paltry human praise and forfeited a true and eternal reward from God. Instead they will receive a very severe condemnation (or “judgment”). Jesus’ sternest words are for those who abuse religion for personal gain or human praise and who thereby cause the weak to stumble (see Mark 9:42; 11:17; Luke 16:15).
Reflection and Application (12:38–40)
Hearing this stern admonition, one might wonder how it applies to the marks of status and prestige that accompany positions of prominence today, both in the Church and in the world—distinctive dress, respectful greetings, places of honor at religious and civil functions. Jesus’ warning is similar to his pronouncement on wealth in 10:23–25. He does not say that signs of esteem are necessarily wrong in themselves, but that they are spiritually dangerous. It is all too easy to begin to enjoy them, to consider oneself entitled to them, to subtly encourage them and seek them, and even to use them to take advantage of others. In that case one has ceased serving God and begun to serve oneself.
The Widow’s Offering (12:41–44)
41He sat down opposite the treasury and observed how the crowd put money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. 42A poor widow also came and put in two small coins worth a few cents. 43Calling his disciples to himself, he said to them, “Amen, I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury. 44For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood.”
OT: Ps 68:6; Isa 29:19; Zeph 2:3
NT: Luke 6:20; James 2:5. // Luke 21:1–4
Catechism: love for the poor, 2443–49; giving to the Church, 1351, 2043
12:41 After denouncing the counterfeit piety of the scribes who “devour the houses of widows” (v. 40), Jesus now shows his disciples an example of true piety, on the part of a widow. The treasury probably refers to thirteen trumpet-shaped donation chests that stood in the temple precincts, each labeled for its different purpose.[11] Jesus observes how the crowd put money (literally, “copper”) into them. All money was metal coinage, and the large sums donated by the rich would have clanked handsomely as they were thrown into the chests. The effect would be similar to the ostentation of the scribes described above (12:38–40).
12:42 The poor widow who comes along is an example of the anawim (lowly ones) often mentioned in the Old Testament, the poor and afflicted who find their joy in God alone (Isa 29:19; 61:1; Zeph 2:3). Widows had no inheritance rights in ancient Israel, and usually had to rely on their children, male relatives, or charity for survival. Though often oppressed by the powerful, they are promised protection and vindication by God (Ps 68:6; 72:4; Jer 49:11). Jesus observes how this widow donates to the house of God two small coins (lepta), the smallest Jewish coins in circulation, each worth one four-hundredth of a shekel. Mark explains for his Roman readers that two lepta are equivalent to one quadrans, the smallest Roman coin (translated as a few cents). That the widow gave two suggests that she did not spare even what she could justifiably have kept for herself. The rich had drawn attention to themselves with their noisy donations, but Jesus’ attention is drawn to this lowly widow.
12:43–44 Jesus calls his disciples to himself—Mark’s signal that important instruction is about to take place—and makes a solemn declaration: this poor widow put in more than all the other contributors. One can imagine the disciples’ jaws dropping, as they had when Jesus declared the danger of riches (10:25–26). Had not the wealthy contributed far more toward the adornment and maintenance of the temple? Was not this woman’s donation practically worthless, so insignificant as to be beneath mentioning? Jesus explains: God measures the gifts given him on a basis totally different from human calculations. He looks at the inner motives of the heart (see 1 Sam 16:7; Luke 16:15). The others had contributed from their surplus,[12] but this woman contributed from her poverty. The others were content to give God some of their overflow, having provided sufficiently for themselves—and impress other people to boot. But this destitute woman had given God what she could not afford, all she had, her whole livelihood. She had given not out of her surplus but out of her substance. Her gift meant that she would have to rely on God even to provide her next meal. Such reckless generosity parallels the self-emptying generosity of God himself, who did not hold back from us even his beloved Son (12:6). She is an exemplar of “the poor” who are blessed by God (see Matt 5:6; Luke 6:20) because their whole treasure is not in earthly possessions but in God. These words of praise for an impoverished widow are the last words spoken by the Lord in the temple of the old covenant.
Some commentators have raised the question whether Jesus’ words should be interpreted more as a lament for the temple authorities’ exploitation of the poor than as a praise of the widow’s generosity. In the very next passage Jesus will prophesy the temple’s doom (Mark 13:2). Does he disapprove of the woman contributing her meager life savings to a lost cause? Is he implying that the money would have been better spent on her own needs than on a religious edifice? These interpretations miss the point. The woman’s plight does reflect the unscrupulous greed and callous disregard for the poor of which the temple authorities were guilty (see 11:17). But Jesus’ focus is on her, not on them. He implicitly equates her gift to the house of God with a gift to God himself, a gift that outweighs all the others and causes him to marvel.
Reflection and Application (12:41–44)
Jesus’ comments on the destitute widow are an example of the divine logic that overturns human ways of thinking. Who looked like pillars of the temple that day? Surely it was the well-to-do who helped make possible the splendid adornment of Herod’s renovated temple. But it was different in the eyes of Jesus. Who contributes most to the flourishing of the Church today? Perhaps it is those who are overlooked and insignificant in human terms. This point brings to mind the story of the third-century martyr St. Lawrence, who was archdeacon of Rome and distributor of the Church’s alms. In 258, by decree of the emperor, the pope and six deacons were beheaded, leaving Lawrence the ranking Church official in Rome. The city prefect summoned Lawrence and demanded that he hand over the treasures of the Church. Lawrence responded that the Church was indeed very rich, and asked for a little time to gather its treasures. He then went all over the city seeking out the poor and infirm. On the third day, he gathered together a great crowd of orphans, widows, and people who were lame, blind, maimed, or suffering various diseases, and invited the prefect to come and see “the wondrous riches of our God.” The prefect was furious; in a rage he ordered Lawrence to be put to death on a gridiron over a slow fire. Lawrence is honored as one of the great martyrs of the early Church.