Because of the events of this particular Passover trip, the Gospels mention a group of family members and friends who travel with Jesus to Jerusalem.

Mark lists Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the younger and Joseph, and Salome (15:40). Matthew 27:56 lists Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the younger and Joseph, and instead of Salome, the mother of Zebedee’s sons–possibly because she is already mentioned as such in 20:20.

Luke adds Joanna (Luke 24:10; possibly the same one as in 8:3). John adds Mary the wife of Clopas and Jesus’ aunt (John 19:25). Jesus’ aunt and Mary’s sister may be one of the women–not named Mary–mentioned in Matthew or Mark or Luke.

This larger community around Jesus might be a one time phenomenon but more likely families traveled together to Passover. Luke writes that Jesus’ parents went to the Passover feast every year (2:41). Since Joseph is not mentioned, the reasonable assumption is that he has died.

In John 7, Jesus’ brothers are preparing to go to the fall Feast of Huts, so it is reasonable to assume that they are part of the caravan as well.

While the record shows that the Twelve were Jesus’ common companions, the historical context and hints in the records suggest a community of friends and family who traveled with Jesus at least for specific events.

The Ephraim region is about a day’s journey north of Jerusalem. As one travels toward the Jordan River, the region becomes more and more unpopulated.

The Gospels sometimes refer to these regions as “wilderness” or “uninhabited places.” John 11:54 refers to a town named the same as the region where Jesus stayed.

The events of John 11 created quite a stir among the Jerusalem leadership (John 11:46-53). Jesus had to withdraw in order to de-escalate the situation. (See also B.San. 43a)

This wasn’t the first time Jesus avoided a city in order to de-escalate conflict. During the summer, he went on an extended tour away from Capernaum visiting the coastal region of Tyre and Sidon and lakeside region of eastern Galilee called the Decapolis (Mark 7:24-8:10).

A previous post (Is Jesus a false prophet?) mentions why Jesus does not return to Capernaum to get his family like the married disciples do. His neighbors had rejected him.

The “woe” Jesus spoke on Capernaum (Matthew 11:23; Luke 10:15) combined with his recent censure in Jerusalem suggests that returning to his hometown was dangerous.

The Jerusalem authorities might try to intercept him in his hometown since they knew where he lived, and Jesus’ rejecting neighbors surely wouldn’t stand in the way.

It may seem jolting if you have never considered their experience—that this glued-group of twelve mean would split up, that some would periodically leave Jesus’ side, that their families would actually trump their touring activity and take priority!

When we read the itineraries in the Gospels, we seldom visualize detours.

But to call the priority of family a detour is to undermine the Torah-world in which the disciples and Jesus lived.

In a previous post, “Rogue husbands or loyal followers,” we looked at the Torah (Exodus 21.10), the Mishanh (Ketuboth 5.6) and a letter of the apostle Paul (1 Corinthians 7.3) as three witnesses to the priority of a man’s presence with and provision for his wife.

It was lawful for Jesus to respect the schedules of his married disciples (see Mark 1:30; 1 Corinthians 9:5).

As they lived out their year, we can conclude that Jesus and his disciples honored this priority of presence and provision for one’s family, and that their itinerary adjusted accordingly.

In the context of the current events of the SpendaYearwithJesus story, “Family feast travel” was one of those moments when the disciples’ responsibilities, their touring activity and family duties, converged.

Paradoxes and polarized responses.

Crowds cheered, authorities sneered. A worshiper washed his feet, accusers punched his face.

Jesus lived with magnetic calm and mesmerizing resolution.

His questions captivated listeners, and his answers stumped accusers.

He was so vested in life that he did not fear death.

I invite you to sign-up to receive text messages at key moments in Jesus’ experience during the last week of his life. Join the text-message short story, “Dying as Living Well.” Sign-up now.

Daniel J. Pfeifer, Th.M.
Founder, SpendaYearwithJesus

Can you see greatness . . . like height or hair color?

Jesus’ followers did not see God standing before them. In fact, that thought was blasphemy.

The God of Israel was not subject to fickle human foibles like Zeus or Neptune, both of whom had been imported into Galilee following Alexander’s conquest. The God of Israel did not share his glory with a man, even though emperor worship had already begun with Caesar Augustus. (Keep in mind that Lake Galilee was renamed for the reigning emperor, Tiberias.)

The devout of Israel rejected the Greek gods and Roman emperor worship. In Jesus, they were looking at one like their pre-eminent king, one like David. But unlike David, Jesus never engaged in a fight. He had no armor, no sword, not even a sling.

But at the same time, a few had seen Jesus calm a storm, and twelve had seen Jesus walk on water. Surely, this power could be weaponized!

Can we pause for a moment? Let us inhabit the story as Jesus and his disciples wait in the remote region of Ephraim. Philip Yancey comments on the challenge of this task:

“The creeds repeated in churches tell about Christ’s eternal preexistence and glorious afterlife, but largely ignored his earthly career. . . . [This] is the problem with most of our writing and thinking about Jesus.  We read the Gospels through the flash forward lenses of church councils like Nicaea and Chalcedon, to the church’s studied attempts to make sense of him.”**

Let’s return to the story. Inhabit the moment. It makes us ask, for example, why didn’t Jesus weaponize his power? And why did the disciples continue to follow one who constantly did not meet their expectations?

Did the disciples see greatness in the earthy carpenter-turned-teacher sitting in front of them?

** Philip Yancey, The Jesus I Never Knew (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Publishing House, 1995), 22, 24.

In the first century, as in any century of human existence, people need food and clothing.

The Mishnah records some of the daily tasks assigned to a wife.

She grinds flour, bakes bread, does laundry, prepares meals, feeds her child, makes the bed, works in wool (Mishnah Ketuboth 5.5).

A wealthy woman with servants had the same scope of responsibility, but she would manage her servant’s activity rather than performing the tasks herself.

This passage from the Mishnah doesn’t mention single women, but I conclude that this “division of labor” generally reflects gender roles in the first-century.

Jesus’ experience included eating bread and meals prepared first by his mother, by Peter’s wife and mother-in-law, by his friends Martha and Mary, and the numerous other hostesses he met on his travels, including some wealthy women who had servants to perform the daily tasks.

Jesus had to eat. The work, while mundane, was necessary. A person can miss a meal or two, but eventually…

“Hold on, Jesus. I have work to do.”

Do you ever wonder where church song writers get their material? If you’re a church-goer, you might have sung recently, “Not to us, O LORD, not to us, but to your name be the glory” (Ps 115:1). Or another popular line, “Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good; His love endures forever” (Ps 118:1).

Jesus also sang (or chanted) these lines–at least four times a year, in fact. We call these Psalms, 113-118, the Hallel. The Mishnah (the 2nd century code of the Rabbis) gives their title and use.

At Passover, Israelites brought their lambs to the temple for butchering and sacrifice, and while the priests were preparing the meat … “[The Levites meanwhile] proclaimed the Hallel Psalms [113-118]” (m. Pesahim 5.7)

[In between courses] “The first Passover requires the recitation of the Hallel Psalms when it is eaten” (m. Pesahim 9.3).

According to the Mishnah, the devout also recited the Hallel at the Feast of Huts (Tabernacles) (m. Sukkah 3.9; 4.1) and possibly also on New Year’s day (m. Rosh Hashshanah 4.7) in the fall.**

L. Finkelstein makes the case from the Babylonian Talmud and Rabbinic practice that the Hallel was recited at the Feast of Dedication (Hanukkah) in the winter and at the Feast of Pentecost (Weeks) in the spring.++

Jesus and his disciples would have known the Hallel (Psalms 113-118) pretty well by repeating it at least these four times a year — year-after-year. I imagine that it was like some of the popular stadium-event tunes we hear repeatedly today.

_________________
** Jacob Neusner, The Mishnah: A New Translation (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1988).
++ Louis Finkelstein, “The Origin of the Hallel,” Hebrew Union College Annual 23 (1951): 319–337.

Between the Lazarus incident and Jesus’ final trip to Jerusalem, he spent time in a remote region in a village called Ephraim. In John’s Gospel, we read the statement, “[Jesus] withdrew … and stayed there…” (11:54)

I wonder…For how long? Where did he stay? What did Jesus do to fill the hours? Can we legitimately fill in what we know of the geography, climate, and culture?

This wondering and filling is normal. In fact, it is inevitable. Literary theorist Seymour Chatman explains:

Whether the narrative is experienced through a performance or through a text, the members of the audience must respond with an interpretation: they cannot avoid participating in the transaction. [The audience] must fill in the gaps with .. likely events, traits and objects which for various reasons have gone unmentioned. . . .  There is a virtually infinite continuum of imaginable details between the incidents, which will not ordinarily be expressed, but which could be. The author selects those events he feels are sufficient to elicit the necessary sense of continual. Normally, the audience is content to accept the main lines and to fill in the interstices (the gaps) with knowledge it has acquired from ordinary living and art experience.**

Chatman’s observation leads me to conclude that SpendaYearwithJesus is the inevitable response of a participating audience member. I “must” fill in the gaps thereby infusing the story with meaning.

** Seymour Chatman, Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1978, 1993), 30.

I don’t envy the town leaders of Capernaum. I get to read the story of Jesus after twenty centuries of clarification. They had to live it in the confusion of real-time.

That said, Jesus doesn’t mince words about their fate. He pronounces “woe” on the three towns where he made his home base — Capernaum, Chorazin, and Bethsaida (Luke 10:13-15).

Let’s assume for just a second that the language is kind of like a radioactive sign. It’s a warning rather than retaliation.

Jesus had experienced plenty of social ambivalence during his teaching and healing tours. In fact, he had been asked to leave some places. People come and go around Jesus without “woe.”

But I take it that in these three cities there was some sort of official rejection since they had the most to lose if Jesus was condemned as a false prophet (which he ultimately was). And it’s that official rejection that Jesus warns against for the general population.

After Jesus left Galilee the summer of his last year, his world grew smaller and smaller until his final, fateful feast-visit to Jerusalem.

“Be like Jesus.” I’ve heard that phrase my whole life in articles, sermons, and now blog posts.

Some tell me that Jesus was focused on the poor. As a result he participated in the challenges of living common to the poor. And we should, too.

Others emphasize that Jesus was singularly focused on teaching, and therefore didn’t have time for the chores of common folk. Teaching is the goal of being like Jesus.

Still others relate that Jesus was always on the road (teaching), so go, go, go.

And further, Jesus could be an itinerant preacher always on the road because he had the support of wealthy people.

But wait a minute, I thought Jesus was poor and related to poor people.

SpendaYearwithJesus developed out of this puzzle of paradoxes with a focus on Jesus’ experience in the daily grind of first-century life — like I live in the daily grind today. Being like Jesus means filling the daily grind with the kind of person Jesus was.

Sign up for the epic conclusion of the story at SpendaYearwithJesus.com.