Mark Pt 27:Sinning Away Your Day of Grace
Herod probably didn’t understand a word of it—except the part about his being a fox. The fox has a reputation as the craftiest creature in the countryside. Countless stories are told of his cunning and how he preys on smaller animals.
The message that Jesus sent to this fox of a man was this that His time was short, and not even Herod could shorten it further. He was not afraid of Herod or his threats. He would continue doing what He was doing. But ahead (after “to day” and “to morrow”) lay a “third day” in which He would be “perfected.” The reference doubtless points toward His resurrection. From the cross rang out a mighty cry: “It is finished!” (John 19:30). Thus, Jesus dismissed Herod Antipas, the only man to whom He ever addressed a message of contempt. Moreover, He sent the message by the Pharisees. These bitter enemies of Jesus likely used this scare approach to try to draw Jesus to Jerusalem, where the Sanhedrin could control Him. They hoped to frighten Him away from the relative security of the Transjordan region. They need not have been concerned about that; He was on His way to Jerusalem and would arrive there in God’s appointed time.
The Lord had been on His way to Jerusalem for a considerable time. He now had four things to say to that city before He even arrived. First, He had a fatal denunciation: “Nevertheless I must walk to day, and to morrow, and the day following: for it cannot be that a prophet perish out of Jerusalem” (13:33). The statement was one of withering sarcasm and scorn. With ironic hyperbole, the Lord accused the Jews of having a monopoly on killing prophets, and He had no intention of depriving them of their most notable victim. The expression “it cannot be” comes from the wordendechomai (“it is not fitting”), and it occurs nowhere else in the New Testament. The great city where God Himself had once sat between the cherubim in the Holy of Holies had now become the executioner of the prophets and was soon to become the murderer of God’s beloved Son.
Second, He had a factual description of Jerusalem: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee; how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not!” (13:34). This sad lament was repeated later when He arrived in the vicinity of Jerusalem. He loved that city. He knew every market and stall, every tower and tree. He knew its history from the days of the royal priest Melchizedek to the days of the sly Herod Antipas. He had seen it defiled by foul Antiochus and freed by the mighty Maccabees. The Romans came so that now the synagogue and Sanhedrin ruled the land under the iron scepter of Rome. Many a time, His heart had been broken by the wickedness of those in power. How often He would have sheltered the city from the folly of its ways. But the city would have no part of it.
He moved on. Down the road, there would be a fearful destruction of Jerusalem: “Behold, your house is left unto you desolate …” (13:35). The siege and sack of Jerusalem was to be one of the most terrible events of history. When it was over, the walls and gates would be reduced to rubble, the temple would be wrapped in flames, and the corpses would be strewn far and wide, and the Romans would be so infuriated by the strength and stubbornness of the siege that they would wreak fearful vengeance on those who were still alive.
But that was not all. Finally, He had a final destiny for Jerusalem: “Ye shall not see me, until the time come when ye shall say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord” (13:35). This prophecy had a near and partial fulfillment. An immediate fulfillment occurred on “Palm Sunday,” when the Lord received the hosannas of the city and especially the cheers of the Galileans who thronged the city in anticipation of Passover. Probably few people realized it, but that Triumphal Entry marked the termination of Daniel 9:22–26b. In keeping with that prophecy, He would be dead within the week. The crowds who thronged and cheered Him would shout just as lustily for His crucifixion.
The real fulfillment went beyond the fall of Jerusalem in A.D. 70, beyond the Bar Cochba rebellion in A.D. 135, on and on, past the two thousand-year church age to the time of His coming again. A blindness has descended on the Jews concerning Christ (Rom. 11:1–10). But when Christ comes back, all of that will change. The first reaction of the Hebrew people to sudden appearing of the Lord in splendor in the sky will be to mourn (Rev. 1:7). But then will come His Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. Then indeed the Jews will sing their loud hosannas, and Psalm 118:26 (here quoted by the Lord) will come into its own.
But they had gone too far. Pilate saw a legal loophole (23:6–12) because when Pilate heard of Galilee, he asked whether the man were a Galilean (23:6). Jesus had attracted vast crowds. People had flocked from all over to hear Him. Much of His time had been in Galilee. Pilate knew about Galileans. He had already killed some of them (13:1–2), but this Galilean had not caused any trouble. Indeed, Pilate, fully aware through his spies of the general nature of Christ’s activities, knew that he had nothing at all to fear from Him. So he never bothered about Him. Besides, Jesus was not a Galilean but a Judean. At this juncture, however, Pilate was not interested in such fine points. Galilee? The very thing! That called for a change of venue. “As soon as he knew that he belonged unto Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent him to Herod, who himself also was at Jerusalem at that time” (23:7).
Back in the fortress, Pilate doubtless congratulated himself on a very clever and convenient end to his troubles. He must have laughed up his sleeve at the fury and frustration of the chief priests at this turn of events. Herod Antipas had already murdered John the Baptist and had been troubled by his conscience ever since. Just the same, perhaps he would embroil himself in the plots of the Jews over Jesus.
So the Jews hauled Jesus to Herod. “And when Herod saw Jesus, he was exceeding glad: for he was desirous to see him of a long season, because he had heard many things of him; and he hoped to have seen some miracle done by him” (23:8). So Herod looked eagerly and expectantly at Jesus.
And Jesus looked at Herod. Before Him sat the man who had murdered John, His cousin, His dear friend and forerunner. The man was as weak as he was wicked. He was wrapped in the outward trappings of royalty, but he was as sly as a fox, a man who had no scruples. To him, Jesus had nothing to say.
But Herod had plenty to say. “Then he questioned with him in many words; but he answered him nothing” (23:9). Question after question! Silence! Herod suddenly realized that he was talking to himself. He was being ignored completely. But if Jesus was silent, His enemies had plenty to say. “And the chief priests and scribes stood and vehemently accused him” (23:10).
Herod looked from the silent Christ to the screaming priests and scribes. Of the two, Jesus annoyed him more. So! This was the King of the Jews! No wonder the Sanhedrin wanted to get rid of Him. What was it that He had publicly called him? A fox? That was it, a fox (13:2). So “Herod with his men of war set him at nought, and mocked him, and arrayed him in a gorgeous [splendid] robe, and sent him again to Pilate” (23:11).
This action produced an unexpected by-product: “And the same day Pilate and Herod were made friends together: for before they were at enmity between themselves” (23:12). Both men had faced the awesome holiness of Jesus and His formidable silence in the face of their weakness and wickedness. They had something in common at last—their rejection of Christ. They became good friends as a result. As the Lord draws His own people together in a common bond of love, so He draws His enemies together in a common bond of hatred.