Tag Archives: Mark 15

Of Appointees & Crowds

Very early in the morning, the chief priests, with the elders, the teachers of the law, and the whole Sanhedrin, made their plans. So they bound Jesus, led him away and handed him over to Pilate.
Mark 15:1 (NIV)

For sports fans, December is a busy month. Of course, there are all of the college bowl games and the NFL season comes to climactic end as teams scramble for a playoff spot. Yet, even in baseball there are a flurry of off-season trades sparked by the MLB’s winter meetings. Wendy and I have been keeping tabs on several trades our beloved Cubs have made this past week.

As much as fans hate it, trades are part of the business in sports. Every team has legendary trades that fans talk about decades after the fact. Some are positive, but the ones that tend to live on in legend are the trades that produced the deepest scars. For Cubs fans it’s the trading of Hall of Famer Lou Brock to our rival Cardinals. For Vikings fans, its the trade we made with the Dallas Cowboys for Hershel Walker. That trade helped set up the Cowboys for a Super Bowl and relegated the Vikings to continued, perpetual mediocrity.

Hershel Walker made news in recent days. He’s been appointed the U.S. Ambassador to the Bahamas. It’s not surprising. Ambassadors are appointed by Presidents and it’s how Presidents reward followers and loyalists. Lots of banquets, meetings with visiting dignitaries, and for Hershel, I imagine colorful drinks with little umbrellas on the beach.

This came to mind this morning as I pondered one of history’s villains, Roman Governor Pontius Pilate. The truth is that being a Roman Governor was also a political appointment, and Caesar doled them out like a President doling out Ambassadors. It wasn’t what you knew, it was who you knew that got you appointed a Roman Governor. Governors had two basic jobs: Keep the tax money flowing freely and generously to Rome, and maintain order. For Pilate, the latter was his greatest concern. Judea was a powder keg of Hebrew rebels and insurrectionists bent on driving the Romans out. Pilate’s life, financial well-being, and political reputation back in Rome hinged on maintaining order.

The Chief Priests were not stupid. Their ascent to and hold on the power and wealth of the Temple racket required political savvy. They needed Pilate to give the execution order of Jesus, because under Roman occupation he was the only one with the authority to do so. With their trumped up charges they made Jesus out to be a threat to Rome. Their hastily produced protest with a crowd calling for Jesus’ crucifixion, they applied maximum political pressure right where it would have maximum impact with the Roman Governor. Pilate, the tenuous political appointee, knew he was being played, but the cost of making the right decision and releasing an innocent man was outweighed by the personal political cost of making an unpopular decision with the crowd of constituents that were screaming at him.

One of the things that I’ve noticed in this chapter-a-day trek through Mark is his repeated reference to “crowds.” Thirty-four times in 16 chapters, Mark mentions the “crowd.” He is clear to mention that the Chief Priests were afraid of the crowd. He mentions in today’s chapter that Pilate was motivated to satisfy the crowd.

And that has me meditating in the quiet this morning. As human beings, the crowd continues to have a tremendous impact on lives, culture, and personal decisions. Individuals refuse to speak truth, or their objections to prevailing ideologies, to avoid getting cancelled. People follow the crowd trending online like a herd of sheep as fads emerge from influencers. Doing the right thing is sacrificed time and time again on the altar of doing the politically correct thing. I don’t think Pilate was so much a villain as he was like any normal human being who chases after power, authority, status, and influence. You’re always going to do what is best for you in any given situation.

Which is an interesting contrast to Jesus as He stands before this mid-level Roman, political appointee. According to Roman law, if a defendant refuses to make a defense, Pilate had to find him guilty. With His silence, Jesus is actively choosing His fate. Why? Because He is choosing to do the right thing for all of humanity. He is choosing to be obedient to His Father’s will. He is sacrificing Himself pay sins penalty for all, for me. He is choosing to exemplify the attitude and actions He wants me to exemplify in my own daily thoughts, words, actions, and choices.

And so, I endeavor today to once again follow Jesus teaching and example, even if it means going against the current of the crowd.

I hope Hershel Walker avoids having to make critical Pilate-like political decisions as U.S. Ambassador to the Bahamas. Enjoy the beach, Hershel!

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!

Success

Wanting to satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas to them.
Mark 15:15a (NIV)

Last night Wendy and I enjoyed a lovely date at a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant that has become a favorite haunt at the lake. During our dinner conversation, Wendy referenced a couple of conversations we’ve had with people recently in which my blog posts and podcasts were referenced. In each case, I received kind words of gratitude.

Wendy asked me if I was encouraged by this. I was, of course. It’s always heartening to know that some seed I scattered sprouted something worthwhile in another person’s journey. This conversation is always a bit of a two-edged sword for me, and Wendy knows that more than anyone. This is why my Enneagram Eight challenger wife brought it up. She is my most passionate cheerleader and high-fidelity encourager.

Here’s what I’ve observed and learned after fifteen years and some five thousand blog posts. Measuring “success” is such a spiritual, emotional, and mental trap. Part of it is just human nature to want my endeavors to succeed. Part of it is a male thing in which grown men have a trapped little boy inside them perpetually playing King of the Mountain. Part of it, for me, is also being an Enneagram Four who naturally sees myself and my world through the lens of dramatic, angsty pessimism and a brooding sense of failure. Then, add-in the world’s definitions of “success” which is measured in large numbers, viral popularity, notoriety, and income.

By the world’s definition, fifteen years and five thousand blog posts should be generating way more than the 54 visitors to my site yesterday. By the world’s definition, it’s abject failure. So, why do it? I like to think I’m compelled, but sometimes I think I might be a little bit crazy.

Three chapters back I mused about the role of “the crowd” in the final days of Jesus earthly journey. It was Tuesday and the crowds were delighted with Jesus’ teaching. Jesus enemies were afraid of the crowd, and afraid of the threat Jesus would be with the crowd behind Him and siding against them. It’s now early Friday morning and these enemies “stir the crowd” to demand the Roman Governor to crucify Jesus. The Governor is a politician, and “wanting to satisfy the crowd” he goes against his better judgment. He condemns an innocent man to keep his approval number high and keep peace with his political adversaries.

Pilate and the chief priests were playing the world’s version King of the Mountain. The Prince of Heaven was showing His followers what the path of success looks like in God’s Kingdom.

Which version of “success” do I really want?

In the quiet this morning, I found myself thinking about two other lessons that I’ve observed about the world’s definition of “success.” First, it’s never enough. It’s a never-ending game of King of the Mountain but the mountain keeps getting higher. The chief priests and religious power brokers were so addicted to their power and influence that they were willing to climb to the pinnacle of conspiracy to commit legally sanctioned murder in order to hold on to it. Second, once the crowd crowns someone with worldly success, the crowd then demands that the person says and does what it dictates. Pilate let the crowd determine his verdict.

Over the past few years, I’ve observed with increasing clarity just how much the crowd fans the flames of public opinion and sways what “successful” people say and do. I find it fascinating how the crowd can lift any obscure individual to the mountain-top of success, and just as quickly push them off popularity cliff.

I submit for your consideration Exhibit A: Jesus, the Christ.

Sunday: The crowd cheers His “triumphant entry” to Jerusalem.

Friday: The crowd screams for His crucifixion.

And so, I’ll continue to scatter my posts and podcasts out into the inter-web in blissful obscurity grateful that 50 or so people stop by on any given day. I’ll continue to follow my spiritual compulsions until the Spirit compels me to stop. I’ll continue to choose to listen to my high-fidelity cheerleader. I’ll continue to tell my human nature, my inner-boy, and my Type Four temperament to chill-out.

Life (without the crowd) is good.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day Mark 15

This is a diagram of the Biblical tabernacle o...
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And the curtain in the sanctuary of the Temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. Mark 15:38 (NLT)

For those unfamiliar with the larger story of God’s Message, this obscure reference in the middle of today’s chapter makes little sense. When God gave Moses the blueprints for the Temple back in the book of Exodus, it included an inner room that was blocked off by a huge curtain. It was behind that curtain that God’s presence resided and it was considered so holy that only the high priest could go behind the curtain, and he could only do it once a year to make atonement for the sins of the people. The word picture was obvious and powerful. There was a separation between God and man and no man could stand before God in His holiness.

When Jesus died, that curtain was mysteriously and miraculously torn in two. Once again, the word picture is both obvious and powerful. With the death of Jesus, the sacrificial Lamb of God, the penalty for sin was paid once for all. There was no longer any separation between man and God – not because of anything man did to earn God’s favor, but because of what God did to pay the penalty of humanity’s flaws.

Today, as I look forward to Christmas, I’m thankful for God who sent his Son. A baby, born in the most humble of circumstances, who would eventually give Himself up to a cruel death to make a way for me to enter through the curtain of eternity.