The story of Barabbas's release by Pilate appears in all four canonical gospels (Mark 15:6–15; Matt 27:15–26; Luke 23:18–25; John 18:39–40).1
Unless otherwise noted, all biblical quotations are from the NRSV. For arguments about the origin of the name Barabbas (taken here simply as the surname “son of Abba”), the reader can consult the summary in Raymond E. Brown, The Death of the Messiah (2 vols.; New York: Doubleday, 1994) 1:799–800.
The reference to the custom in Luke 23:17 is a later addition to the text. Brown, Death, 1:794.
“The conclusion from this discussion of Roman and Jewish amnesty/pardon parallels is that there is no good analogy supporting the historical likelihood of the custom in Judea of regularly releasing a prisoner at a/the feast (of Passover) as described in three Gospels” (Brown, Death, 1:818). See the similar judgment of Robert H. Gundry, Mark: A Commentary on His Apology for the Cross (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993) 935; also Ched Myers, Binding the Strong Man: A Political Reading of Mark's Story of Jesus (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1988) 373. On release of prisoners in the ancient world, see most recently Robert L. Merritt, “Jesus Barabbas and the Paschal Pardon,” JBL 104 (1985) 57–68. Charles B. Chavel (“The Releasing of a Prisoner on the Eve of Passover in Ancient Jerusalem,” JBL 60 [1941] 273–78) suggests a Hasmonean custom of prisoner release, using m. Pesaḥ. 8:6 as primary evidence.
Horace Abram Rigg, Jr., “Barabbas,” JBL 64 (1945) 426.
Roger David Aus, “The Release of Barabbas Revisited (Mark 15:6–15; Matt 27:15–26; Luke 23:18–25; John 18:39–40),” in Caught in the Act, Walking on the Sea and the Release of Barabbas Revisited (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998) 139. But see Brown's more tempered assessment of Pilate (Death, 1:695–705). Gundry argues that Josephus's silence on this insurrection indicates that Barabbas was a minor figure whom Pilate would have been willing to release (Mark, 934). Myers points to the release of political prisoners under Albinus and concludes that the release of “one popular dissident in order to defuse public protest over the execution of another, in the context of a politically charged atmosphere, is not only plausible, but probable” (Binding, 374). Myers, however, appears to be referring to Albinus's release of “those who had been cast into prison for a trifling and commonplace offence” in contrast to those “who clearly deserved to be put to death” (Josephus, Antiquities [Ant.] 20.215).
E.g., Brown, Death, 1:819; W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison, Jr., The Gospel According to Saint Matthew (ICC; 3 vols.; London: T&T Clark, 1988–1997) 3:583.
The impetus for creating this narrative remains a subject of debate. Brown points to the irony of Barabbas's release in light of Jesus' execution.
7Brown, Death, 1:819.
; John 18:40) or a murderer (clearly in Luke 23:19, 25; somewhat ambiguously in Mark 15:7) over their Messiah.
8Merritt, “Jesus Barabbas,” 67–68. While the gospel writers' apologetic motivations and willingness to elaborate/fabricate details to bolster their theological assessment of Jesus and other characters cannot be doubted, the Greek and Roman parallels adduced refer to the temporary release of prisoners; the only permanent release cited is of Jehoiachin by the Babylonians in 561 B.C.E. Aus (“The Release of Barabbas,” 165–68) presents a similar argument, although he suggests the Barabbas narrative is based upon the stories of tax remission and pardons by Archelaus and Vitellius (Josephus, Ant. 17.200–218; 18.90–95). Aus earlier suggested that the Barabbas narrative was the result of a midrash on Esther. Roger David Aus, “The Release of Barabbas (Mark 15:6–15 par.; John 18:39–40), and Judaic Traditions on the Book of Esther,” in Barabbas and Esther and Other Studies in the Judaic Illumination of Earliest Christianity (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992) 1–27.
Rigg, “Barabbas,” 417–56. Stevan L. Davies, “Who is Called Bar Abbas?” NTS 27 (1980–81) 260–62. H. Z. Maccoby, “Jesus and Barabbas,” NTS 16 (1969/1970) 55–60. For a more detailed discussion of these theories, see Brown, Death, 1:811–14.
Other puzzling aspects of Mark's and Matthew's narratives will be explored below, but now I turn to the reception of the story by early Christian writers and their strange silence on Barabbas. Major and minor characters alike were the subject of the early church's unbridled imagination, which ascribed names to the unnamed and created entire histories for even minor biblical characters. None of this occurred for Barabbas. While there are a few brief mentions of Barabbas's release (usually reflecting a harmonization of the gospel texts),10
Irenaeus, Proof of the Apostolic Preaching 95; Tertullian, Against Marcion 4.42; Origen, Against Celsus 1.2; Acts of Pilate 9; John Chrysostom, Homiliae in Matthaeum [Hom. Matt.] 86.2; Homiliae in Joannem [Hom. Jo.] 84.1; Augustine, In Evangelium Johannis tractatus [Tract. Ev. Jo.] 115.5; 116.1; Augustine, Harmony of the Gospels 3.8; 3.13.
Also noted by Larry J. Kreitzer, The New Testament in Fiction and Film: On Reversing the Hermeneutical Flow (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993) 68.
Book of the Cock 8.37. Pierluigi Piovanelli, “Exploring the Ethiopic Book of the Cock, An Apocryphal Passion Gospel from Late Antiquity,” HTR 96 (2003) 430.
Cited in Piovanelli, “Exploring,” 439 n. 33.
See, e.g., Marie Corelli, Barabbas: A Dream of the World's Tragedy (Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1893); Sara Bard Field, Barabbas: A Dramatic Narrative (New York: Boni, 1932); the tale entitled “The Wine of the Tetrarch” within “The Deluge at Norderney” by Isak Dinesen, Seven Gothic Tales (New York: Modern Library, 1934) 61–69; Michel de Ghelderode, Barabbas in Seven Plays (2 vols.; New York: Hill and Wang, 1960–1964); Pär Lagerkvist, Barabbas (New York: Random House, 1951) and the 1962 film (directed by Richard Fleischer) based on the novel; the film King of Kings directed by Nicholas Ray (1961); Gerd Theissen, The Shadow of the Galilean (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987).
For example, Irenaeus, Demonstration of the Apostolic Preaching 95; Acts of Pilate 9; John Chrysostom, Hom. Matt. 86.2; Hom. Jo. 84.1; Augustine, Tract. Ev. Jo. 115.5; see John Chrysostom, Epistulae ad Olympiadem [Ep. Olymp.] 4; Leo the Great, Sermon 59.3 (=On the Passion 8). For proverbial uses of the Barabbas narrative to cast aspersions on a contemporary figure or issue, see John Chrysostom, Ep. Olymp. 3; Athanasius, Defense against the Arians 2.6.82; History of the Arians 8.68; Orations against the Arians 1.1.2; Eusebius, The Martyrs of Palestine 6.5; Rufinus, Defense against Anastasius 2.12, 33, 37; Jerome, Defense against Rufinus 1.13. On the medieval tradition of using the Barabbas incident to blame the Jews, see Christopher Ocker, “Ritual Murder and the Subjectivity of Christ: A Choice in Medieval Christianity,” HTR 91 (1998) 165.
In light of these oddities within the Barabbas narrative itself and in its reception among early Christian writers, I would like to suggest another avenue for interpretation. Instead of continuing to search for a truly parallel practice of prisoner release in the ancient world, perhaps another set of comparative data should be used as a lens to analyze the Barabbas narrative. The points of comparison proposed are Greco-Roman curative exit rites, in particular the Greek ritual of the
(by convention translated as “scapegoat”) and the scapegoat ritual of Leviticus 16.
The rituals prescribed for the Day of Atonement16
See also Exod 30:10; Lev 23:27–32; 25:9; Num 29:7–11. For a thorough study on the influence of the Day of Atonement on early Christianity, see Daniel Stökl Ben Ezra, The Impact of Yom Kippur on Early Christianity: The Day of Atonement from Second Temple Judaism to the Fifth Century (Tübingen: Mohr Siebck, 2003). Stökl Ben Ezra (165–71) argues for Matthew's use of the scapegoat in formulating Matt 27:15–26, but makes no judgment about the origin of Mark's narrative. My argument concerns both Mark 15:6–15 and Matt 27:15–26 and offers a radical rereading of these texts. A. H. Wratislaw (“The Scapegoat—Barabbas,” ExpTim 3 [1891–92] 400–403), arguing from a theological point of view, also identifies Barabbas as an antitype of the scapegoat. He concludes with a rather anti-Semitic interpretation of Jews as eternal scapegoats, “representing the mystical body of Barabbas” (402).
Jacob Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16 (AB 3; New York: Doubleday, 1991) 1009–11. For an extensive discussion of the text, including Mesopotamian parallels, see Milgrom, Leviticus, 1009–84. For a recent suggestion of the ritual's origin, see Calum Carmichael, “The Origin of the Scapegoat Ritual,” VT 50 (2000) 167–82.
[Aaron] shall take from the congregation of the people of Israel two male goats for a sin offering and one ram for a burnt offering. Aaron shall offer the bull as a sin offering for himself, and shall make atonement for himself and for his house. He shall take the two goats and set them before the LORD at the entrance of the tent of meeting; and Aaron shall cast lots on the two goats, one lot for the LORD and the other lot for Azazel. Aaron shall present the goat on which the lot fell for the LORD, and offer it as a sin offering; but the goat on which the lot fell for Azazel shall be presented alive before the LORD to make atonement over it, that it may be sent away into the wilderness to Azazel….
When he has finished atoning for the holy place and the tent of meeting and the altar, he shall present the live goat. Then Aaron shall lay both his hands on the head of the live goat, and confess over it all the iniquities of the people of Israel, and all their transgressions, all their sins, putting them on the head of the goat, and sending it away into the wilderness by means of someone designated for the task. The goat shall bear on itself all their iniquities to a barren region; and the goat shall be set free in the wilderness (Lev 16:5–10, 20–22).
In brief, among other animals, two goats are selected through the use of lots: One, referred to as the “immolated goat,” is chosen to be sacrificed as part of the purgation ritual; the other, designated the “scapegoat,” is to bear the sins of Israel into the wilderness. At first glance, the parallels to the Barabbas narrative are obvious: Two goats (men) are brought before the people; one is killed, the other is released. This connection would be obvious were it not for the assumption, in concert with long-standing Christian tradition, that Jesus was the scapegoat. This tradition—by no means uniform on this point—will be discussed in detail below. In fact, this tradition betrays a number of difficulties that suggest a more complicated history of Christian reflection on the death of Jesus. Before proceeding, however, it is necessary to put the Jewish scapegoat ritual in the context of the broader religious phenomenon of curative exit rites.
Curative Exit Rites in the Greco-Roman World
Rituals in which an animal or a member of a society is exiled or killed in order to achieve purification of the community are well documented in the ancient world. While scholars have normally called these “scapegoat” rituals, adopting the common terminology for the ritual in Leviticus 16, I follow DeMaris in referring to these rituals as “curative exit rites.”
18Richard E. DeMaris, “Jesus Jettisoned: Gospel Composition and the Marcan Passion Narrative through a Ritual Lens,” in The New Testament in Its Ritual World (London: Routledge, forthcoming) ch. 5. Bradley McLean (“On the Revision of Scapegoat Terminology,” Numen 37 [1990] 171) at first suggested the use of “scapeman,” a problematic term, since in some instances the exiled community member may have been female. Jane Harrison, Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion (1903; reprinted New York: Meridian, 1955) 99–100. McLean later offered a more thorough analysis under the rubric of “apotropaeic rituals.” B. H. McLean, The Cursed Christ: Mediterranean Expulsion Rituals and Pauline Soteriology (JSNTSup 126; Sheffield Academic Press, 1996) 65–104.
(1) A threat to the community …, (2) the designation of a community member in response, who undergoes status transformation over the course of the rite, (3) ritual action that concentrates and directs divine power and (4) entails the exit of the designee from the community toward the enemy; and (5) the designee's vicarious action that diverts disaster away from his community.19
DeMaris, “Jesus Jettisoned.”
rite, whose most important features are summarized here.
20Harrison, Prolegomena, 95–106; Walter Burkert, Greek Religion (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1985) 82–84; Walter Burkert, Structure and History in Greek Mythology and Ritual (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979) 59–77; Robert Parker, Miasma: Pollution and Purification in Early Greek Religion (1983; reprinted Oxford: Clarendon, 1996) 24–26, 257–80; Jan N. Bremmer, “Scapegoat Rituals in Ancient Greece,” in Oxford Readings in Greek Religion (ed. Richard Buxton; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000) 271–93. The
in myth and myths of voluntary self-sacrifice are not discussed here. René Girard (Violence and the Sacred [Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1977]) uses the term “scapegoat” in a distinctly different way, and thus his work will not be considered here.
ritual was practiced in association with the Thargelia, an Athenian and Ionian festival of Apollo associated with seasonal renewal, and was intended to purify the city.
21Parker, Miasma, 25. Our sources attest to the practice in Athens, Abdera, Massilia, Kolophon, and Leukas.
Parker, Miasma, 257; Bremmer, “Scapegoat Rituals,” 274.
was a marginal character, often poor, ugly, or even a criminal. After his designation, the
underwent a transformation, temporarily treated as if a valuable member of the community, often by being fed at state expense and dressed in expensive clothes.
23Bremmer, “Scapegoat Rituals,” 273–77; DeMaris, “Jesus Jettisoned.”
was then led out of the city in a procession accompanied by discordant music; abused (stoned, whipped) and chased beyond the borders of the city, he may, in certain locales, have been killed.
24Bremmer, “Scapegoat Rituals,” 285–87. On the death of the scapegoat, see Bremmer, “Scapegoat Rituals,” 288–290; Parker, Miasma, 258.
is killed or not, the most important thing is that he never returns to the city.
25Harrison, Prolegomena, 104; Bremmer, “Scapegoat Rituals,” 288, 290.
Bremmer, “Scapegoat Rituals,” 287.
While many scholars consider the Levitical scapegoat to be an example of a
,
27E.g., Bremmer, “Scapegoat Rituals,” 271; see also Daniel Johannes Stökl, “The Christian Exegesis of the Scapegoat between Jews and Pagans,” in Sacrifice in Religious Experience (ed. Albert I. Baumgarten; Leiden: Brill, 2002) 224–28.
Mary Douglas, “The Go-Away Goat,” in The Book of Leviticus: Composition and Reception (ed. Rolf Rendtorff and Robert A. Kugler; Leiden: Brill, 2003) 121–22.
was a picture of wretchedness, the scapegoat was unblemished and its treatment not punitive.
29Douglas, “The Go–Away Goat,” 122–23.
Ibid., 122.
, since the Greek rite at times included a pair of
,
31Parker, Miasma, 258.
was linked with other sacrifices that constituted the Thargelia.
32H. W. Parke, Festivals of the Athenians (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1977) 146–49.
and the scapegoat as close variations within the larger religious complex of curative exit rites. The prerequisite for such rituals is that the community must be in danger; this is clearly the case in Leviticus, where the ritual is introduced in response to the pollution of the altar by Aaron's sons (Lev 16:1; 10:1–2; see also Lev 16:16–19, 21–22). The identification of a community member
33The use of animals rather than humans in the Jewish rite does not disqualify it from being a curative exit rite given the structural similarities enumerated here. For a detailed discussion of such rites involving animals, see Milgrom, Leviticus, 1071–79. Jewish literature does contain stories of curative exit rites that involve humans, e.g., the surrender of seven descendants of Saul to the Gibeonites to bring an end to a famine (2 Sam 21:1–10) and the expulsion of the disobedient prophet to avert shipwreck (Jonah). Burkert, Structure and History, 71. Perhaps this provides a partial explanation for the reading of Jonah during the Yom Kippur service, a choice that was apparently debated among the rabbis. Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 57–58; Theodor H. Gaster, Festivals of the Jewish Year (New York: Sloane, 1952) 173.
.
Yet even if one were to concede that the ritual was not originally conceived as a curative exit rite, Jews in the Hellenistic and Roman period clearly did understand it as such. According to the Mishnah, the scapegoat was no longer led away by a single individual (as implied by Lev 16:21), but a group of citizens abused it as they led it in procession, accompanied by ritualized speech, out of the city on a specially constructed causeway:
34DeMaris notes some of these elements (“Jesus Jettisoned”). On the causeway, see also m. šeqal. 4:2; m. Parah 3:6.
They delivered it to him that should lead it away…. And they made a causeway for it because of the Babylonians who used to pull its hair, crying to it, “Bear [our sins] and be gone! Bear [our sins] and be gone!” Certain of the eminent folk of Jerusalem used to go with him to the first booth. There were ten booths from Jerusalem to the ravine [which was at a distance of] ninety ris (which measure seven and a half to the mile). At every booth they used to say to him, “Here is food, here is water,” and they went with him from that booth to the next booth, but not from the last booth; for none used to go with him to the ravine; but they stood at a distance and beheld what he did (m. Yoma 6:3–5).35
Herbert Danby, The Mishnah (New York: Oxford University Press, 1933).
What did he do? He divided the thread of crimson wool and tied one half to the rock and the other half between its horns, and he pushed it from behind; and it went rolling down, and before it had reached half the way down the hill it was broken in pieces (m. Yoma 6:6).
The scapegoat was also marked by a crimson thread (m. Yoma 4:2); Douglas is probably right in contesting whether this can be considered a parallel to the dressing in royal garments undergone by the
(“The Go-Away Goat,” 123), especially since both goats were so marked (the one “for the LORD” around its throat, the one “for Azazel” around its head).
)” (see the similar substitution in 16:10a), and 16:10b concludes “that it may be sent away (
).” The noun
indicates a communal procession intended to rid the city of evil,
37DeMaris, “Jesus Jettisoned.” The corresponding gods (“gods of Aversion”) were
. Harrison, Prolegomena, 8–9; Parker, Miasma, 220 n. 71; 334.
appears in Lysias for the exiling of the
(Against Andocides 6.53). At the very least, by the time the gospels were composed, the Jewish scapegoat ritual had been deeply influenced by the pattern of curative exit rites and, in particular, by the
; study of Christian appropriation of the scapegoat should likewise be informed by that broader context.
Christian Scapegoat Traditions
As noted above, a serious obstacle to recognizing Barabbas as a literary scapegoat is the Christian identification of Jesus with the scapegoat. This tradition of interpretation is quite ancient, but a careful analysis will demonstrate that it always appears in conjunction with a rather strained identification of him with the immolated goat. In contrast, the earliest explicit christological application of the Day of Atonement rituals (Hebrews 9) identifies Christ with the immolated goat, with no reference whatsoever to the scapegoat.38
On the possible metaphoric use of the scapegoat in Pauline theology, see McLean, The Cursed Christ, and the response by Stephen Finlan, The Background and Content of Paul's Cultic Atonement Metaphors (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2004) 73–121. Finlan argues that the cultic metaphor found in 2 Cor 5:21 and Gal 3:13 (and possibly Rom 6:6; 7:4; 8:3) is based upon what he terms “curse transmission rituals,” only one of which is the scapegoat. Since in these passages Paul does not make any explicit reference to the Levitical goats, they cannot be used as evidence for an early identification of Jesus with the scapegoat.
Barnabas, Justin Martyr, and Tertullian all identify Christ with both the scapegoat and the immolated goat, with considerable consistency on the meaning of Christ as scapegoat, but little agreement on what it means for the immolated goat to be a type of Christ.
39There has been intensive discussion on the relationship between these passages, as well as on the content of the typology inherited by them. See Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 156–61; James Carleton Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas (WUNT 2.64; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1994) 138–40; John Dominic Crossan, The Cross That Spoke: The Origins of the Passion Narrative (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988) 123–33.
Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 150–52. Other commentators suggest the author of Barnabas mistakenly assumed that the goat “for the LORD” was consumed. See the sources cited in Ellen Bradshaw Aitken, Jesus' Death in Early Christian Memory: The Poetics of the Passion (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2004) 116 n. 72; so also Paget, Barnabas, 135–36.
), the other was accursed (
; 7.6–7). The exposition that follows primarily concentrates on cataloguing the ways in which the scapegoat is a type of Jesus: abused, crowned in scarlet, fulfilling his destiny to suffer for humanity,
41Reidar Hvalvik, The Struggle for Scripture and Covenant: The Purpose of the Epistle of Barnabas and Jewish–Christian Competition in the Second Century (WUNT 2.82; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1996) 183.
Lester L. Grabbe, “The Scapegoat Tradition: A Study in Early Jewish Interpretation,” JSJ 18 (1987) 161–65.
The corresponding expositions of the immolated goat are more varied and perplexing. The author of Barnabas draws an opaque parallel between Jesus and the immolated goat (Barn. 7.10); the point seems to be that the similarity of the two goats will facilitate the recognition of Jesus upon his return as the one who had previously suffered as the scapegoat for sins.43
Crossan, The Cross That Spoke, 124–25; Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 154.
Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho in vol. 1 of The Ante-Nicene Fathers (ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson; 1885–1887; 10 vols.; repr. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1985).
[W]hile the other, made an offering for sins, and given as food to the priests of the temple, marked the tokens of his second manifestation, at which, when all sins have been done away, the priests of the spiritual temple, which is the Church, were to enjoy as it were a feast of our Lord's grace, while the rest remain without a taste of salvation (Against Marcion 3.7.7; see also Answer to the Jews 14.9).45
Tertullian, Adversus Marcionem (trans. Ernest Evans; Oxford: Clarendon, 1972).
Whether this sacrifice took place as part of the morning or afternoon daily offering was debated among the rabbis (m. Yoma 7:3).
Paget, Barnabas, 138. Tertullian's reference to the Eucharist may be eschatological as well as reflecting the Christian present (Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 157). The author of Barnabas referred to the consumption of the third goat as a type of the Eucharist separate from his exposition of the immolated goat (see above on Barn. 7.3–5).
In sum, in these three texts, Jesus is identified with both of the two goats. However, the typology of the immolated goat is problematic, as there is nothing about that goat (other than its physical similarity to the scapegoat) that can be directly likened to Christ's Parousia without recourse to forced exegesis, since a goat, slaughtered and burnt whole, is hardly a fitting image for the triumphant Christ. Because this typological application is so forced, it seems quite possible that the impetus for that identification had already been forgotten or even rejected.
Another trajectory, in which the two goats signify Christ, but both are related to Jesus' first advent, may preserve that impetus. In a fragment of Hippolytus's Catenae on Proverbs, Christ's death is likened to that of the immolated goat, and his mission to the Gentiles is prefigured by the scapegoat's exile from the Jewish community.48
Fragment cited in Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 158.
St. Cyril of Alexandria Letters (trans. John I. McEnerney; FC 76–77; 2 vols.; Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America, 1987). By the end of the letter, Cyril's typology is drawn into the controversy over the nature(s) of Christ (Letter 41.18–20). See also Theodoret of Cyrus, whose character Orthodoxus argues that the two goats correspond to the two natures of Christ (Dialogue III—The Impassible).
This identification of Christ has a very early precedent in the book of Hebrews. Without any mention of the scapegoat, the author of Hebrews presents Jesus' death in light of the goat's sacrifice in the purgation ritual. Christ's entry into Holy of Holies in Heb 9:11–14 is explicitly modeled upon the high priest's presentation of blood in that inner sanctuary.50
Harold W. Attridge, The Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1989) 144, 245, 248, 251. For a detailed exposition of the role of the Day of Atonement in Hebrews, see Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 180–97. Felix H. Cortez (“From the Holy to the Most Holy Place: The Period of Hebrews 9:6–10 and the Day of Atonement as a Metaphor of Transition,” JBL 125 [2006] 527–47) argues that the Day of Atonement functions as a parable in Hebrews rather than as a typology.
Attridge, Hebrews, 213. Cyril of Alexandria explicitly links the immolated goat with Heb 9:12 and 13:12 (Letter 41.12).
Origen continues in this trajectory, describing the immolated goat as one “offered to God as an offering to atone for sins and he made a true atonement for those people who believe in him” (Homily on Leviticus 10.2.2).52
Origen, Homilies on Leviticus 1–16 (trans. Gary Wayne Barkley; FC 83; Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America, 1990).
Grabbe, “The Scapegoat Tradition,” 152–67. See also the more recent survey in Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 85–95. Philo eschews this demonology and more characteristically sees the two goats as signifying opposing virtues and vices: The banishment of the scapegoat corresponds to punishment of those who honor creation, while the acceptance of the sacrificed goat represents honor gained by those who exalt the Creator (Planting 61 [14]). See also the similar interpretations in Who is the Heir? 179 [37]; Allegorical Interpretation 2.52 [14]. On Philo's allegorization of Yom Kippur rituals more broadly, see Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 109–14.
Moreover (the goat), which in the book of Leviticus is sent away (into the wilderness), and which in the Hebrew language is named Azazel, was none other than this [the devil]; and it was necessary to send it away into the desert, and to treat it as an expiatory sacrifice, because on it the lot fell. For all who belong to the “worse” part, on account of their wickedness, being opposed to those who are God's heritage, are deserted by God (Against Celsus 6.43).54
Origen, Against Celsus in vol. 4 of The Ante-Nicene Fathers (ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson; 1885–1887; 10 vols.; repr. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1985).
Origen's other allegories of the two goats reflect a similar dualism (Homilies on Leviticus 9.3–6; Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 266).
Jerome, The Homilies of Saint Jerome (trans. Marie Liguori Ewald; FC 48; 2 vols.; Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America, 1964–1966).
These examples demonstrate a consistent identification of Jesus with the immolated goat. The tradition is not in any way uniform, however, in identifying Jesus with the scapegoat. And when such an identification does occur, it is always linked to his typological fulfillment of both goats. Justin and Tertullian (and the author of Barnabas, though less consistently) saw the goats as representing Christ's two advents; this forced them to mold the immolated goat into an image of Jesus at the Parousia. Hippolytus and Cyril, without reference to the Parousia, interpreted the immolated goat as a foreshadowing of Christ's death. This connection is attested in Hebrews, Origen, and Jerome; the typologies of the latter two are dualistic (i.e., the scapegoat = the devil) rather than dual (both prefiguring Christ). All this strongly suggests that 1) the scapegoat Christology is secondary, and 2) the connection between Jesus and the immolated goat was so deeply embedded in early Christianity that it could not be ignored even if, in the case of Barnabas, Justin, and Tertullian, a fully adequate exegesis could not be adduced in its support. We can now turn to the biblical narratives about Barabbas to evaluate the possibility that Barabbas may have been a Christian scapegoat before Jesus.
Barabbas as Scapegoat?
The Markan Narrative (Mark 15:6–15)
The immediate similarities between the Day of Atonement rituals and the Barabbas narrative outlined above are strengthened by DeMaris's criteria for curative exit rites. These rites were predicated by a threat to the community. Since the custom is described as regular (“at the festival”;
), no specific threat is needed, although the danger to the well-being of the Jewish community in light of a recent insurrection (Mark 15:7) would provide just the kind of peril required. The community's designation of Barabbas and, in particular, his marginal status—a prisoner with connections to murder and insurrection (Mark 15:7, 11)—make him an appropriate choice, since, as noted above, the
was often a criminal or other marginal figure.
But what of the expulsion of the designated community member? The dominant understanding of Barabbas's fate is that he is set free (
), not abused, exiled, or killed. However, the peculiar use of
is rarely noted: At each point in Mark
is immediately followed by a dative, either
(Mark 15:6, 11, 15) or
(Mark 15:9).
57Gundry notes something odd when he remarks, “The release of Barabbas to the crowd spoils a picture of salvation through Jesus' suffering in Barabbas's place” (Mark, 938).
Indirect object: ASV, KJV, NKJV, Darby, Wycliffe, Young's Literal Translation, and the NIV (although the dative is left untranslated in 15:6 and 11). Dative of advantage: RSV, NRSV, ESV, and NASB. The NIRV does not translate any of the datives.
with the dative in Plutarch Pyrrhus 21.4; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Roman Antiquities 8.82.1; Acts of Paul and Thecla 38.5.
59See also Liddell, H. G., R. Scott, H. S. Jones, A Greek-English Lexicon (9th ed. with revised supplement; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996) s.v.
, A.V: “to deliver”
[LSJ].
addresses the problem of reconciling Pilate's character with Barabbas's release. We have already noted that Pilate's character is often cited as incompatible with the release of a prisoner—especially one charged with insurrection. A narrative referring to the expulsion of a
would be much more in line with common Jewish perceptions of Pilate.
60Since the portrayal of Pilate in Mark (and Matthew) hinges upon our interpretation of this very story, we should not allow the sympathetic portrait found in Luke 23 and John 18 to color our reading of this Pilate.
On a number of other levels the narrative is less than believable, and the current thesis may lead to a more plausible reading.
61I am not presupposing the historicity of the narrative, but rather its plausibility to an ancient audience.
Brown, Death, 1:809. A similar observation is made by Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 166.
Myers, Binding, 381.
.
A second oddity is that the crowd in the Markan narrative seems to assume that if one prisoner is released, the other must be killed. Pilate's historically implausible questioning of the crowd about what should be done with Jesus—he evidently does not share their assumption (15:12, 14a)—gives the crowd the opportunity to respond with the unanimous cry “crucify him” (Mark 15:13, 14b). Thus the narrative seems to be constructed to ensure that one is released and the other slain.64
Similarly, Ulrich Luz, Matthew 21–28 (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2005) 499.
The final element of the Markan narrative that requires attention is the last verse of the pericope: “So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd (
), released Barabbas for them; and after flogging Jesus, he handed him over to be crucified” (Mark 15:15). The phrase
is often cited as a Latinism equivalent to satisfacere alicui.
65So F. Blass and A. Debrunner, A Greek Grammar of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (trans. and rev. Robert W. Funk; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961) §5.3b [BDF]; W. Bauer, F. W. Danker, W. F. Arndt, and F. W. Gingrich, Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (3d ed.; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000) s.v.
, 1 [BDAG]. Lewis and Short give the following definitions of satisfacio: “to give satisfaction to, to satisfy, content”; “to satisfy, content (by payment or security), to pay or secure a creditor”; “to give satisfaction (by word or deed)”; “to give satisfaction by suffering a penalty” (s.v. satis, II.D).
LSJ, s.v.
, II.2.
Robert G. Hamerton-Kelly, The Gospel & the Sacred: Poetics of Violence in Mark (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1994) 55. Hamerton-Kelly cites only Bauer in support of this translation and concludes that Pilate “sacrifices Jesus to the mob” (55).
in literature recounting Roman administrative affairs is completely inappropriate to the Markan context, since the phrase is used to describe the need to make satisfaction to a higher authority for a wrong done. For example, Leptines, the assassin of Gnaeus Octavius, presented himself in Rome, thinking he would get off with a light penalty; the senate, rather than close the matter through his arrest and punishment, returned the case to Demetrius's care with instructions that Rome's beneficence toward him would depend on him doing the right thing (
), which apparently meant punishing the popular Leptines himself (Polybius, Histories 32.3). The reference in Appian is quite similar: the Romans demand satisfaction (
) for Carthaginian offenses in the hostilities with Masinissa. The Carthaginians' request for clarification was rebuffed; eventually the Senate demanded complete obedience and 300 children of noble Carthaginians as hostages (Roman History 8.74–76). This meaning would not at all make sense coming from the lips of Pilate, since he cannot be understood as needing to make satisfaction for any wrong done to the crowd. A second meaning does shed light on the narrative. The phrase is used in the Shepherd of Hermes for indulging one's passions (
; Herm. Sim. 6.5.5). A similar reference to indulging an undisciplined person appears in Diogenes Laertius, who tells us that the philosopher Bion responded to a persistent babbler (
) by offering to acquiesce to his request (
) under the condition that he only contact Bion through an intermediary (Lives of Eminent Philosophers 4.50).
68See also the less moralizing uses of the idiom in Aegyptische Urkunden aus den Königlichen (later Staatlichen) Museen zu Berlin. Griechische Urkunden (18 vols.; Berlin, 1895–2000) 4:1141, where Eros is the source of satisfaction, and The Oxyrhynchus Papyri (ed. B. P. Grenfell and A. S. Hunt; London: Egypt Exploration Fund, 1899) 2:293, whose author asks his sister to satisfy the every wish of the man who delivers his letter.
Here is the result of this rereading: the crowd approaches Pilate with the intent of asking for a scapegoat/
to be released to them (Mark 15:6, 8); Barabbas, a fitting choice, is already in custody (15:7). Pilate's offer of Jesus (15:9) is rejected by the crowd, which at the instigation of the priests chooses Barabbas (15:11). The narrative then has Pilate turn to the crowd for their judgment on Jesus' fate, a device which allows the crowd's response to designate him as the immolated goat from the Levitical ritual (15:12–14). Indulging the crowd's choice, Pilate releases Barabbas to them as a scapegoat/
and dispatches Jesus for crucifixion (15:15). Mark's narrative of Barabbas thus yields strong coherence with curative exit rites, in particular the
and the scapegoat, and reading Mark against this background has cleared up a number of exegetical conundrums, including the character of Pilate, the actions of the priests, the unanimity of the crowd, and the structure of the narrative.
The Matthean Redaction (Matt 27:15–26)
The redactional features of Matt 27:15–26 demonstrate that Mark's earliest interpreter cast the Barabbas narrative in light of curative exit rites as well. Matthew supplements Mark's story by making the two prisoners more similar (as required of the goats in the Mishnah), by narrating the ritual action upon the scapegoat/
, and by hinting that disaster has been averted (DeMaris's third and fifth criteria, absent from Mark). The key redactional features are: 1) The ambiguous status of Barabbas; 2) the specification of Barabbas's first name as “Jesus” (27:16); 3) Pilate's explicit presentation to the crowd of a choice between the two prisoners (27:17, 21); 4) the crowd depicted on the verge of rioting (27:24a); 5) Pilate's declaration of his own innocence (27:24b); 6) Pilate's challenge to the crowd “see to it yourselves” (27:24); 7) the crowd's acceptance of blood guilt (27:25).
Many modern translations of Matt 27:16 are quite misleading. Barabbas is a “notable prisoner” (
), not a “notorious” one.
69“Notorious”: NRSV, RSV, NIV, NASB, ESV, NKJV. “Notable”: KJV, ASV, Darby; comparable translations appear in YLT, NIRV, and Wycliffe.
(“for censure”);
(“because of courting the mob”);
(“for wickedness”).
70LSJ, s.v.
, II.3. The usage in Josephus, Jewish War 2.21.1 (585) is similarly qualified:
(“the most unscrupulous and crafty of all who have ever gained notoriety by such infamous means”; LCL); pace Brown, Death, 1:797 n. 19. Luz correctly notes that Matthew “adds nothing that might correct the positive connotations suggested by
” (Matthew 21–28, 497).
E.g., Robert H. Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Literary and Theological Art (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982) 560.
.
72See Jesus' binding (
) in Matt 27:2.
Similarities between the two prisoners are increased in Matt 27:16–17, which contain interesting textual variants that have gradually gained acceptance as the more ancient reading: the personal name “Jesus” is given to Barabbas. While older translations omit this variant reading, the RSV noted the variant in a footnote, and the NRSV placed “Jesus Barabbas” in the text itself. The 26th and 27th edition of Nestle-Aland included
in brackets, as did the 3d edition (corrected) printed by the United Bible Societies. The antiquity of the reading (it was known, though rejected, by Origen) and the improbability of its addition through scribal error or intent make it most likely that Matthew did indeed give Barabbas's name as “Jesus Barabbas.”
73For a more complete argument, see Bruce M. Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament (2d ed.; New York: United Bible Societies, 1994) 56; Brown, Death, 1:798–99.
Matthew also makes a significant change in the structure of the narrative, which again heightens the prisoners' similarity. In Mark the crowd approaches Pilate to ask for the release of a prisoner (15:8); Pilate suggests Jesus (15:9); the crowd counters with Barabbas (15:11). In Matthew, however, Pilate begins his interaction with the crowd by offering them a choice between the two prisoners: “So after they had gathered, Pilate said to them, ‘Whom do you want me to release for you, Jesus Barabbas or Jesus who is called the Messiah?’” (Matt 15:17; repeated in 15:21). The two prisoners are presented to the crowd (literarily) side-by-side, and the crowd is to choose between the two of them.
These first three redactions to Mark's narrative all work in concert to portray Barabbas and Jesus in a similar light with the result that the crowd is offered a choice between comparable figures: two prisoners of dubious guilt who share the same personal name.74
Brown, Death, 1:798, 801; see also Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 168–69.
Gundry, Matthew, 561, 563.
Grabbe, “The Scapegoat Tradition,” 163–65. See the detailed discussion of m. Yoma's relationship to temple ritual in Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 18–28. Stökl Ben Ezra suggests that Barnabas may be dependent upon an early Seder Avodah (161).
The remaining redactional changes (status of the crowd, declaration of innocence, challenge to crowd, acceptance of blood guilt; Matt 27:24–25) must also be analyzed as a unit rather than as individual elements. Traditionally understood, these verses reinforce Pilate's awareness of Jesus' innocence (27:18) and, to some extent, transfer the guilt for Jesus' condemnation from Rome to the Jewish leaders.
77These verses bear a long and shameful history of anti-Semitic exegesis. The re-reading offered here suggests a less anti-Semitic origin, but in no way lessens the culpability of Christian exegetes throughout the ages.
Brown, Death, 1:834; Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:590; Gundry, Matthew, 564; Luz, Matthew, 500; also often cited: Pss 26:6; 73:13; Letter of Aristeas 305–6. On Pilate's words, 2 Sam 3:28 and Sus 46 are cited as parallels. Stökl Ben Ezra (Yom Kippur, 169) links this verse generally to the presence of confession and hand washing in the Day of Atonement rituals, although he does not explain how these elements function within the narrative in any way analogous to Leviticus 16.
Luz notes the ill fit of the ritual to this occasion and concludes that Matthew's readers would be skeptical of Pilate's actions (Luz, Matthew, 500).
Luz, Matthew, 500. Even the modern commentators who offer these parallels highlight the ineffectiveness of Pilate's action and words, often explaining that Pilate's guilt nevertheless remains. E.g., Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:590; Brown, Death, 1:835.
Brown, Death, 1:837; similarly Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:591; so also Luz, Matthew, 502.
Now here too it is noteworthy that the people do not use this biblical expression at all as it is intended in the Bible. The issue here is not that innocent people limit the damaging effects of bloodguilt to the guilty person but that the people take these effects on themselves, even though they did not directly commit this murder.82
Luz, Matthew, 502.
Stökl Ben Ezra, Yom Kippur, 166.
, usually translated as “see to it yourselves,”
84So NRSV, RSV, ESV, NKJV; similarly NASB, KJV, ASV, Darby; cf. the NIV: “it is your responsibility.”
BDF §362.
Brown, Death, 1:835. Similarly Luz, Matthew, 500.
Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:564.
Ibid., 3:591.
Lewis and Short, II.B.2–3. “To see to (it)” meaning “to accomplish, acquire, or oversee something.” E.g., Cicero Tusculanae disputationes 3.19.46; 4.17.38; Epistulae ad Atticum 5.1.3; Letter 16.1.2; Terence, Self-Tormentor 459; Phormio 189; Livy, History 6.18.8.
; I do not wish to be a judge of these matters.” The phrase here means “take care of the matter yourself.” The crowd then does just that, seizing and beating Sosthenes, without any intervention from Gallio (18:17). Yet this leads to a striking problem in the narrative: What exactly is Pilate telling the Jews to “take care of themselves”?
A more coherent reading of Matt 27:24–25, it seems, must address the difficulties highlighted above and consequently (a) take Pilate's hand washing at face value—that is, as efficacious; (b) take the crowd's assumption of guilt as real (rather than vicarious); and (c) explain the precise meaning of Pilate's words asking the crowd to accomplish some task. Using curative exit rites as a background, I offer the following two alternative re-readings of Matt 27:24–25, the first of which is the more plausible.
Reading 1: If by the end of v. 23 Pilate has decided to “release” Barabbas to the crowd as a
/scapegoat and to crucify Jesus, Pilate's washing of his hands (v. 24a) would signify that he is ritually disassociating himself from any harm that may come to Barabbas. That responsibility for Barabbas's blood is at stake makes much more sense than if the reference is to Jesus, whom Pilate intends to crucify.
90Note as well the additions in the manuscript tradition to make clear that the reference is to Jesus: “this righteous man's blood” or “this righteous blood.”
; v. 24b) of the ritual, that is, the abuse, exile, and (perhaps) killing of the scapegoat. The crowd responds by acknowledging their complicity in the scapegoat's demise:
(v. 25). This almost liturgical exchange may be evidence of DeMaris's third criteria of ritual action upon the
, while also demonstrating another important ritual element: communal participation in and responsibility for his expulsion. The last criteria (aversion of disaster) may be found in another Matthean redaction: the handing over of Barabbas calmed a crowd on the verge of riot (Matt 27:24a).
91I am not suggesting that Matthew wanted his readers to see Pilate as a ritual specialist, but rather that the structure of Jesus and Barabbas's experiences corresponded with that of the
/scapegoat.
Reading 2: Alternatively, instead of a futile attempt to escape moral culpability, v. 24a may signify Pilate's intent not to crucify Jesus (“I am innocent of this man's blood”). He turns instead to the crowd and tells them that if they want Jesus dead, they must “see to it themselves” (v. 24b). Pilate thus challenges the crowd to choose Jesus as the scapegoat, whom they can abuse as they please. We are left then with the traditional reading of v. 25, according to which the crowd claims responsibility for the execution ordered by Pilate and enacted by Rome. This interpretation does at least have the advantage of taking Pilate's act of washing his hands at face value rather than as a charade, but it still fails to read the crowd's assumption of guilt in a plausible way.
Reading Matthew's narrative through the lens of curative exit rites clears up numerous exegetical difficulties and strengthens the argument that Mark's narrative was based upon the same background. The general silence on Barabbas in early Christian writings makes it difficult to adduce further support for the thesis that Barabbas is a literary scapegoat, but two pieces of evidence support the plausibility of this interpretation. Recall that Origen identified Jesus with the immolated goat and the scapegoat with the devil (see above); in addition he explicitly identified that demonic scapegoat with Barabbas:
[L]et us also now attempt to add something to what was said long ago to the best of our ability, that we may show how “as a type of things to come” this one he-goat was sacrificed to the Lord as an offering and the other one was sent away “living.” Hear in the Gospels what Pilate said to the priests and the Jewish people: “Which of these two do you want me to send out to you, Jesus who is called the Christ, or Barabbas?” Then all the people cried out to release Barabbas but to hand Jesus over to be killed. Behold you have a he-goat who was sent “living into the wilderness,” bearing with him the sins of the people who cried out and said, “Crucify, crucify” (Homily on Leviticus 10.2.2).
Origen, Commentary on Matthew in vol. 9 of The Ante-Nicene Fathers (ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson; 1885–1887; 10 vols.; repr. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1985).
The equation of Barabbas with the devil is developed in the medieval tradition. The Ordinary Gloss attributes the idea to Isidore of Seville, who explicitly refers to the expulsion of the Devil in this context (Ocker, “Ritual Murder,” 165). Might this comparison indicate that Isidore saw Barabbas's experience as one of exile/expulsion?
The second bit of evidence—more tenuous, since it is ultimately an argument from silence, albeit a profound silence—is that the vast majority of our ancient sources refuse to speculate about any further movements or experiences of Barabbas. If he was believed to be set free, he was relegated to a life of complete anonymity by the early church. But if he was understood to be a scapegoat—suffering exile or even death at the hands of the crowd—then silence is most fitting, since the key to the efficacy of the curative exit ritual is that the one expelled is completely rejected by the city, which severs all further contact with him. To dwell upon the scapegoat is, in effect, to return impurity to the community. It is suggestive that the one source which provides a new detail about Barabbas's movements, the Ethiopic Book of the Cock, indicates that Barabbas was not immediately released, but was escorted beyond the walls of Jerusalem under Roman guard (8.7).
Implications for the Development of the Passion Narrative
I have argued that Barabbas was created as a literary scapegoat and foil to Jesus and thus that the Day of Atonement rituals were central to the earliest reflections on the significance of Jesus' death and the development of the Passion Narrative. There are numerous implications of this thesis for understanding this process; I limit myself here to two of these implications.
First, the christological implications of modeling Jesus' experience on the immolated goat must be taken seriously. According to Leviticus, the purpose of the immolated goat is to make atonement for the sanctuary, the tent of the meeting, and the altar (Lev 16:16, 18, 20). This three-fold atonement purifies the entire sanctuary complex from the pollution caused by the sins of Israel.94
Milgrom, Leviticus, 1033, 1061; see also 258–61; Roy E. Gane, Cult and Character: Purification Offerings, Day of Atonement, and Theodicy (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2005) 106–43; Finlan, Paul's Cultic Atonement Metaphors, 32–44.
E.g., Bruce D. Chilton, The Temple of Jesus: His Sacrificial Program within a Cultural History of Sacrifice (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1992).
Some features of the Markan Passion Narrative, in which the temple plays a significant role,96
Upon entering Jerusalem, Jesus makes a brief and cryptic visit to the temple and then retreats to Bethany (Mark 11:11). He returns the next day to drive out the merchants and money changers (11:15–16), and in not so many words declares that the temple has become defiled (11:17). Jesus' teachings in his final week are often located at or in the close vicinity of the temple (11:27; 12:35; 13:1, 3; 14:49); he is falsely accused of threatening to destroy the temple (14:58; repeated at the cross in 15:29). The last we hear of the temple is that upon Jesus' death (15:37), “the curtain of the temple was torn in two” (15:38).
Hamerton-Kelly, The Gospel & the Sacred, 2, 17–18, 57. Likewise Juel reads the overall emphasis of Mark as on the rejection and destruction of the temple. Donald Juel, Messiah and Temple: The Trial of Jesus in the Gospel of Mark (SBLDS 31; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1977) 127–42. The “cleansing” scene is usually understood as symbolizing the destruction of the temple or as a protest against particular abuses (e.g., Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:135–36). Luz (Matthew, 11) notes a third interpretation, namely that “Jesus' symbolic action points to the restoration of the true cult or the holiness of the entire temple.”
Despite lengthy discussions there is little consensus on the precise reference of the veil (inner or outer curtain) or its symbolic significance. On the interpretation of the rending of the veil, see Dennis D. Sylva, “The Temple Curtain and Jesus' Death in the Gospel of Luke,” JBL 105 (1986) 239–50; Juel, Messiah and Temple, 140–42; Timothy J. Geddert, Watchwords: Mark 13 in Markan Eschatology (JSNTSup 25; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1989) 141–43. The most prominent interpretations center on the destruction of the temple, the inauguration of the eschaton, open access to God, and the mourning of God at the death of Jesus. The image of the torn veil has proved quite malleable, able to be molded to a variety of proposed Markan theologies. On the variety of early Christian interpretations of this incident, see M. de Jonge, “Matthew 27:51 in Early Christian Exegesis,” HTR 79 (1986) 67–79.
Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:143.
Stökl Ben Ezra concluded that Matthew's purpose was to implicate the crowd through his rewriting of the Barabbas narrative, but he assumes Matthew held Jesus to be the true scapegoat and Barabbas a false one (Yom Kippur, 170–71).
Second, although the scapegoat Christology is secondary to the temple-focused Christology outlined above, assimilation of Christ's experience to the scapegoat had already begun prior to the composition of Mark. A number of scholars have previously argued for the influence of the scapegoat on the formation of the Passion Narrative.101
Crossan, The Cross That Spoke, 117–33; Helmut Koester, Ancient Christian Gospels: Their History and Development (Philadelphia: Trinity, 1990) 216–31; Aitken, Jesus' Death, 115–20; DeMaris, “Jesus Jettisoned.” Crossan and Koester emphasize the role of scriptural interpretation; Aitken and DeMaris focus upon cultic observance as generative of the Passion Narrative. The linking of Atonement and Passover (seen in Ezek 45:18–20 and a marginal note in a fragment of the Peshitta indicating that Leviticus 16 was to be read during Easter week) would facilitate either impetus for composition. D. J. Lane, “The Reception of Leviticus: Peshitta Version,” in The Book of Leviticus: Composition and Reception (ed. Rolf Rendtorff and Robert A. Kugler; Leiden: Brill, 2003) 312.
After the trial the soldiers robe Jesus in fine clothes, place a crown on his head, and salute him as king. This royal treatment soon gives way to abuse (striking and spitting) and finally the re-robing of Jesus in his own clothes (Mark 15:16–20; Matt 27:27–31).
102Brown (Death, 1:874–77) catalogues a number of customs that have been suggested as a background to Jesus' mockery, although none are ultimately convincing.
Crossan, The Cross That Spoke, 139–40; Helmut Koester, Ancient Christian Gospels, 225.
underwent both a symbolic elevation of his status and physical abuse.
Much like the equivocal sacra, we have a two-sided designee in the pharmakos rite. They were from the dregs of society—unsightly, poor, slave—hence the derogatory connotation [of] the word pharmakos accrued in the Greek language. Yet in the pharmakos rite they enjoyed an elevated status—sumptuous feasting at state expense, dressed in sacred robes. Status transformation came full circle as expulsion approached. What followed—beatings, stonings, cursings at the hands of the entire group—enacted/signaled not only the transfer of community ills to them but also their status degradation, which culminated in their elimination from the community altogether.104
DeMaris, “Jesus Jettisoned.” For ancient attestations of royal robing, see Bremmer, “Scapegoat Rituals,” 277 nn. 39, 41.
provides a closer parallel to that of Jesus, although Mark and Matthew seem to be unique in their re-robing of Jesus as a signal of his status degradation. (Note, however, that the re-robing of Jesus is absent from Gospel of Peter [Gos. Pet.] 3.6–9; John 19:2–3, 5; Luke 23:11). Recognition of this background challenges the assumption that the soldiers were mocking Jesus' claims to royalty; instead their actions identify him as a scapegoat.
105The similarity of the names Carabas and Barabbas makes it tempting to speculate that at an early stage of the Passion Narrative Barabbas may have been the one robed and then abused. This raises the difficult question of the relationship between Jesus' assimilation to the scapegoat and the origins of a royal Christology.
with an arbor infelix.
106Bremmer, “Scapegoat Rituals,” 280–85.
Conclusions
This paper began by noting problems with the standard interpretation of the Barabbas narratives and has argued that a more fruitful interpretive lens is provided by the pattern of curative exit rites, which include the two closely related rituals of the
and the scapegoat. The new readings of Mark and Matthew offered provide solutions to numerous exegetical conundrums and are supported by the fact that 1) by the first-century the scapegoat ritual had already taken on aspects of the
ritual and 2) early Christian identification of Jesus with the scapegoat was secondary to his connection to the immolated goat of Leviticus 16.
Furthermore, recognizing Barabbas as a literary
/scapegoat has uncovered a primitive Christology focused on purification of the temple. The following scenario seems plausible: over time and especially in light of the destruction of the temple, Christological interests reflected in early versions of the Passion Narratives shifted from temple purity to the removal of sin itself, for which the scapegoat was a more fitting vehicle.
107“Thus the ritual in the sanctuary concerns itself with removing its pollution …; the rite with the Azazel goat, by contrast, focuses not on pollution, the effects of Israel's wrongs, but exclusively on the wrongs themselves.” Milgrom, Leviticus, 1033. On the various distinctions drawn between the types of sin/pollution covered by these rituals, see the detailed analysis in Gane, Cult and Character.
