My brother died on a Friday. But it’s third-day-complicated.

There was an apartment fire on Friday morning. Three people, including my brother, were missing.

The concrete upper-story floor pad had fallen on the bed where he was sleeping, so “finding him” wasn’t simply a matter of peeking in the room.

Saturday, we waited. Excruciating, inevitable waiting.

Sunday, they rolled the stone away, and we learned what we already knew.

Jesus died on a Friday. His brothers were in Jerusalem for the Feast. They must have heard, must have responded. I wonder how they spent Saturday.

Jesus was human. He had a family. Today, I share the grief of a brother.

Every person in the first century crossed the line between life and death, including Jesus. It was part of being human. We don’t need to be reminded that it still is.

Preparing to cross that [dead]line is also part of being human. We anticipate that death will change things. It will bring loss. It will also bring closure.

I have to wonder if Jesus looked at the twelve men around him and felt a sense of gravitas. He had been engaging in succession planning for three years.

• He had already communicated that he had come to fulfill the Law, thus bringing closure.
• The previous spring he had commissioned the twelve to declare the nearness of the kingdom.
• The previous summer, he began to speak of the end, though the disciples understood “dying and raising” as a metaphor.
• He could reasonably anticipate escalation of conflict in Jerusalem (since he was a wanted man for raising Lazarus).

In Jesus’ experience, he and his disciples refreshed Israel’s past by reading the Law every Sabbath day. When they read about the ordination procedures and dedication ceremony for priests, the practice reminded them of the inevitability of succession planning.

As Jesus sat with his men in the Ephraim wilderness and as he sat with his men this evening, the twelve vaguely anticipated ordination (echoing the priestly ritual) in a new kingdom. Jesus knew his dead.line loomed.

The experience was normal. What everyone would expect. Jesus, his family, his disciples, and their families walked the Jordan Valley roads along with hundreds of holiday travelers. The festive occasion: Passover and the Feast of Unleavened Bread.

Underneath the normal of that moment was the disruptive fact that Jesus was a wanted man. 4 weeks previously, in a suburb of the capital city and to the amazement of all, Jesus resuscitated a family friend. The religious authorities regarded this action as an exercise of trickery or sorcery – either was criminal – so they issued a warrant for his arrest (Talmud Sanhedrin 43a).

For 3 weeks afterwards, Jesus and his men withdrew into the hills between Judea and Samaria. Then they re-emerged to join the crowds for the feast.

Observe most people, and their lives appear normal. But like Jesus’ experience, underneath the normal are life-challenging disruptions. If attentive, we can see beyond the surface-normal, see into those challenges even as life goes on, just as it did around Jesus as he neared his own end.

“You have a short time to live.” More regularly than we like to admit, we hear of a family member or friend given that diagnosis.

If you had one week to live, how would you spend it?

Jesus knew he had a short time to live. On his way to Jerusalem, he took his closest followers aside privately. He confided to them that he would be handed over to the temple authorities, condemned, mocked, flogged and crucified (Mt 20:17-19). Jesus’ description of his own end is quite specific.

Jesus’ experience included the anticipation of his own death. But as we follow Jesus the last week of his life, we do not see him chasing a new adventure or hurrying to try a new pastime.

So how did Jesus spend his last week?

He did what he had always done: eating meals with family and friends, teaching in the temple courts, spending time with his closest followers. I notice a change in Jesus’ teaching content but not in his pace of life.

Unhurried, Jesus depletes his remaining hours engaging friends.

Does he seem like he really only has one week left to live?

One of Jesus’ followers, Paul, writing after Jesus’ death in his letter to Roman Christians begins with the phrase, “…the one who was descended from David with respect to the flesh” (Rom 1:3; also 2 Tim 2:8). Today, everyone knows that. It’s introductory.

The idea that the Messiah would be a descendant of Israel’s King David was well-established in Jesus’ day.

During Jesus’ “Kingdom Tour” and throughout his public activity, people approached his healing activity with the words of the accolade channeling their hopes as well as uncertainties.

• Two blind men asked Jesus for healing calling him “Son of David” (Matt 9:27).
• After Jesus healed a blind and mute man, the crowds around him observed, “This one is not the son of David, is he?”
• A foreigner referred to Jesus as “Lord, Son of David” when she asked for healing for her daughter (Matt 15:22).
• Two more blind men outside Jericho asked Jesus for healing using the title, “Son of David” (Matt 20:30).

During the Feast of Huts, some members of the crowd rejected Jesus observing from their Scripture (the Prophets and Writings; 2 Sam 7:12-14; Ps 2:7; 89:4; Mic 5:2) that the Messiah would come from the descendants of David and from Bethlehem (John 7:42). Wait a minute!

Jesus rode into Jerusalem at the next Passover, his final visit to the city, surrounded by crowds cheering, “Hosanna to the Son of the David” as well as “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the LORD” (Matt 21:9; a phrase from the Hallel). Were they sure?

In that final week, Jesus posed the question to some religious leaders directly, “Whose son is the Messiah?” Their response, “The son of David” (Matt 22:42). And I want to ask, To whom were the religious leaders talking?

Can we approach the story with the uncertainty of its original participants? I think we can. We only need pause for a moment and allow the fog of uncertainty in our own lives to roll in … and we connect with Jesus’ experience.

Imagine election night. It’s a close race. You’ve been promised a spot in the candidate’s government if the votes come in. You wonder what that spot will be, right? Cabinet-level, executive staff…

The disciples reveal their anticipation at various points in Jesus’ story, this one who proclaimed, “The kingdom of God is near.”

It is the mother of two disciples who has the moxy to ask directly for kingdom positions for her sons (Matt 20:21). Otherwise, the disciples generally just argue among themselves (Mark 9:34; Luke 22:24).

As the disciples wait for their Messiah to reign, they have that same feeling of anticipation.

The Passover feast is coming up. In Israel’s history, the gathering of the nation at a feast is a prime time for positive changes in government. There were good times during the leadership of Kings Solomon, Hezekiah, and Josiah (2 Chr 7, 30, and 35) as well as Governor Nehemiah (Neh 8–9).

Other than past experience, how could they know what to expect two weeks before they head to Jerusalem?

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.