The Corrupt Trial of Jesus and Paul

Previously

Lot’s Angels and Jesus as a Great Angel in Paul

Eusebius of Caesarea, a 4th-century Christian historian, attributed the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE and the Jewish loss of land following the Bar Kokhba revolt (132–135 CE) to divine punishment for the crucifixion of Jesus. In his Ecclesiastical History (Book III, Chapter 5-7), Eusebius explicitly connects the calamities faced by the Jews, including the siege of Jerusalem and the failure of the Bar Kokhba revolt, to their rejection and execution of Jesus. He interprets these events as fulfillment of biblical prophecies and divine retribution, a common view in early Christian apologetics. For example, he cites the suffering described by Josephus during the First Jewish-Roman War as evidence of God’s judgment. This perspective reflects the anti-Jewish sentiment prevalent in some early Christian writings, though Eusebius’ tone is more theological than personal. He frames these events within a broader narrative of divine providence, aligning with his goal to present Christianity as the fulfillment of God’s plan. We see analogous sentiments in the Q source about Israel killing its prophets.

Based on sources like the bible, Josephus, and the Dead Sea Scrolls, some viewed the Jewish elite around Jesus’ time as bad, corrupt, etc. Multiple ancient sources from the Second Temple period (roughly 516 BCE to 70 CE) portray elements of the Jewish elite—such as high priests, Pharisees, Sadducees, scribes, and rulers—as corrupt, hypocritical, greedy, or unjust. These criticisms often stem from internal Jewish perspectives, reflecting sectarian tensions, prophetic traditions, or responses to political upheavals like Hellenistic influence, Roman occupation, and internal power struggles. The views are not uniform; they represent “some” groups or authors who saw the elite as deviating from ideal Torah observance, exploiting the poor, or collaborating with foreign powers. The Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) contains prophetic critiques of corrupt priests and leaders, though these are mostly from earlier periods and not exclusively tied to the first century CE. Prophets like Ezekiel (22:26) and Malachi (1:6–2:9, circa 5th century BCE) condemn priests for profaning the sanctuary, despising God’s name, offering polluted sacrifices, and showing partiality in judgment. Jeremiah (5:31) criticizes prophets and priests for ruling falsely, while Micah (3:11) accuses priests of teaching for a price and perverting justice.

The New Testament, written in the first century CE, offers sharper, more contemporary criticisms of the Jewish elite around Jesus’ time, portraying them as hypocritical and corrupt. Jesus frequently condemns the Pharisees, Sadducees, scribes, and chief priests for prioritizing external rituals over justice, mercy, and faith. In Matthew 23, Jesus delivers “woes” against the scribes and Pharisees, calling them hypocrites who “devour widows’ houses” (23:14), burden people with heavy loads (23:4), and appear righteous outwardly but are “full of hypocrisy and lawlessness” inwardly (23:28).

The temple cleansing (Mark 11:15–17; John 2:13–16) depicts Jesus overturning tables of money-changers and dove-sellers, quoting Jeremiah 7:11 to call the temple a “den of robbers,” implying corruption in the priestly system that controlled temple commerce.

The Gospels portray chief priests plotting Jesus’ death out of envy and fear of losing authority (Mark 11:18; John 11:47–53), and the parable of the wicked tenants (Matthew 21:33–46) likens religious leaders to tenants who kill the owner’s son to seize the vineyard.

Acts 23:3 shows Paul calling the high priest Ananias a “whitewashed wall” for ordering him struck unlawfully, highlighting perceived injustice.

These NT views reflect intra-Jewish debates, with Jesus and early Christians positioning themselves against what they saw as elite corruption, often echoing prophetic traditions. Views in Flavius Josephus (37–c. 100 CE), a Jewish historian and former priest who defected to Rome, provides firsthand accounts of first-century Jewish leadership in works like Jewish Antiquities and The Jewish War. While not uniformly hostile (he was part of the elite), he describes systemic corruption, especially under Roman influence, where high priesthood became a political appointment often bought or manipulated:High priests like Annas (high priest 6–15 CE) and his family are portrayed as wielding undue power; Josephus notes their greed and control over temple revenues. His son-in-law Caiaphas (18–36 CE) is linked to Jesus’ trial.

In The Jewish War (Book 4), Josephus criticizes factional violence among priests during the 66–70 CE revolt, describing them as tyrannical and corrupt, with some hoarding wealth or using force to control appointments. He details how Roman procurators like Valerius Gratus deposed high priests frequently (Antiquities 18.2.2), leading to instability and bribery. Earlier, under Herod the Great and the Hasmoneans, priesthoods were manipulated for political gain.

Josephus implies corruption in temple practices, such as exploitative tithe collection or elite collaboration with Romans, contributing to the 66 CE revolt.

His writings suggest that while not all elites were corrupt, the system fostered abuse, especially in the decades before 70 CE.

The Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS), discovered at Qumran and associated with the Essene sect (circa 2nd century BCE to 1st century CE), contain sharp polemics against the Jerusalem priesthood and elite, whom they viewed as corrupt and illegitimate. The Essenes withdrew to the desert partly in protest against this perceived corruption. The “Wicked Priest” (likely a Hasmonean high priest like Jonathan Maccabee, 152–143 BCE, or Alexander Jannaeus) is a recurring figure in texts like the Pesher Habakkuk (1QpHab). He is accused of greed, stealing from the poor, amassing wealth illicitly, defiling the temple, and persecuting the “Teacher of Righteousness” (the sect’s founder).

The Damascus Document (CD) criticizes “three nets of Belial” (wealth, fornication, temple defilement) ensnaring Israel under corrupt leaders. The Community Rule (1QS) and War Scroll portray the elite as “sons of darkness,” corrupt and opposed to the sect’s pure priesthood. Overall, the DSS see the Jerusalem establishment as polluted by Hellenistic influences and illegitimate rule, justifying the sect’s separation.

These texts reflect a sectarian view that the elite had corrupted true Judaism, anticipating divine judgment. Several additional sources from the late Second Temple period echo these criticisms, often from pseudepigraphic or apocryphal Jewish writings, such as Psalms of Solomon (mid-1st century BCE, likely Pharisaic). These hymns harshly critique the Hasmonean rulers and elite as hypocritical, lawless, and greedy. Psalm 4 describes a “hypocrite” (possibly a leader) as outwardly pious but inwardly corrupt, devouring the poor. Psalm 17 laments a “lawless one” (likely Pompey) invading due to elite sins, and envisions a messiah purging corrupt leaders.

Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs (2nd century BCE, with Christian interpolations): The Testament of Levi predicts future priestly corruption, with descendants becoming arrogant, disregarding regulations, and engaging in depravity. Books of Maccabees (2nd century BCE): 2 Maccabees 4 details high priests like Jason and Menelaus bribing for office, introducing Greek customs, and corrupting the priesthood under Seleucid rule.

As a Jewish philosopher, Philo is more defensive of Judaism but indirectly critiques issues in On the Embassy to Gaius, describing Roman interference (e.g., under Caligula) that exacerbated elite corruption or weakness, though he focuses on external threats rather than internal faults.

Later but reflecting earlier traditions, texts like Mishnah Sotah 9:15 lament priestly decline, and stories in Babylonian Talmud (e.g., Yoma 9b) describe corruption like simony (buying offices) and violence among priests.

Pseudepigrapha like 1 Enoch (3rd–1st century BCE): Sections criticize corrupt watchers (angelic figures) influencing human leaders, with implications for priestly impurity.

These sources collectively show widespread dissatisfaction among some Jewish groups with the elite, often linked to themes of divine retribution or messianic hope.

Passages in 1 Thessalonians, Matthew, and the Gospel of John focus on Jewish Responsibility for Jesus’ Death. In 1 Thessalonians 2:14–16, Paul writes: “For you, brothers, became imitators of the churches of God in Christ Jesus that are in Judea. For you suffered the same things from your own countrymen as they did from the Jews, who killed both the Lord Jesus and the prophets, and drove us out, and displease God and oppose all mankind by hindering us from speaking to the Gentiles so that they may be saved—so as always to fill up the measure of their sins. But wrath has come upon them at last!” (ESV)This passage explicitly blames “the Jews” for killing Jesus and the prophets, portraying them as opposing God’s plan. It reflects early Christian rhetoric linking Jewish rejection of Jesus to divine judgment, possibly referencing events like the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE. Scholars note this may reflect intra-Jewish tensions, as Paul himself was Jewish, and the term “Jews” likely refers to specific Judean authorities or groups rather than all Jews.

Matthew 27:24–25 describes Pilate washing his hands of Jesus’ death, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” And all the people answered, ‘His blood be on us and on our children!'” (ESV)This verse, unique to Matthew, has been historically interpreted as the Jewish crowd collectively accepting responsibility for Jesus’ crucifixion, implicating future generations. The phrase “all the people” (likely referring to a crowd in Jerusalem, possibly instigated by leaders) has fueled anti-Semitic interpretations, though scholars argue it reflects a specific narrative context rather than a blanket condemnation of all Jews.

Matthew 23:29–36 also accuses the scribes and Pharisees of being descendants of those who killed the prophets, predicting they will kill Jesus’ followers too, culminating in judgment: “so that on you may come all the righteous blood shed on earth” (23:35). This ties into a broader theme of attributing Jesus’ death to Jewish religious leaders.

Matthew’s Gospel often portrays Jewish leaders (chief priests, elders, Pharisees) as orchestrating Jesus’ death (e.g., Matthew 26:3–4, 27:1), though Roman authorities execute the sentence. This emphasis reflects tensions between early Christians and Jewish authorities post-70 CE.

John frequently uses the term “the Jews” (hoi Ioudaioi) to denote opponents of Jesus, often implying Jewish leaders or a hostile subset rather than the entire Jewish people. Key passages include John 19:7, where “the Jews” demand Jesus’ death, saying, “We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die because he has made himself the Son of God.”

John 19:12–16 shows “the Jews” pressuring Pilate, saying, “If you release this man, you are not Caesar’s friend,” leading to Pilate’s acquiescence.

John 11:47–53 depicts the Sanhedrin, led by Caiaphas, plotting Jesus’ death to protect national interests, framing it as a collective decision by Jewish authorities.

John’s language is polemical, reflecting a late 1st-century context where Christian communities were distancing from Judaism. “The Jews” often symbolizes religious opposition rather than ethnicity, but this nuance was lost in later interpretations, contributing to anti-Jewish sentiment.

Unlike Matthew, John does not have a single verse like Matthew 27:25, but its repeated use of “the Jews” as antagonists has been seen as implicating them broadly in Jesus’ death.

The Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) does not explicitly state that “the Jews” as a collective killed their prophets, but it contains numerous passages where prophets face rejection, persecution, or death at the hands of Israelite or Judean leaders and people, often framed as disobedience to God. These texts were later interpreted by early Christians (e.g., in the New Testament) to suggest a pattern of prophet-killing culminating in Jesus’ crucifixion. Key examples include:2 Chronicles 36:15–16: “The Lord, the God of their fathers, sent persistently to them by his messengers, because he had compassion on his people… But they kept mocking the messengers of God, despising his words and scoffing at his prophets, until the wrath of the Lord rose against his people, until there was no remedy.” This passage, describing the lead-up to the Babylonian exile, implies rejection of prophets led to divine judgment but does not specify killing. It would make sense then post 70 CE inventing the story of God’s especially beloved being wrongly killed in the 30s to explain the tragedy.

We read in Jeremiah 2:30 “In vain have I struck your children; they took no correction; your own sword devoured your prophets like a ravening lion.” This suggests prophets were killed by Israelites, though details are vague. Likewise 1 Kings 19:10, 14 (Elijah’s lament) says “The people of Israel have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword.” Elijah claims Israel killed God’s prophets, reflecting a tradition of prophetic persecution. With Nehemiah 9:26 in a prayer, the Levites recount Israel’s history: “Nevertheless, they were disobedient and rebelled against you and cast your law behind their back and killed your prophets, who had warned them in order to turn them back to you.” This explicitly states that Israelites killed prophets sent to warn them. In Isaiah 53:7–9 (Suffering Servant) while not directly about prophets, this passage, later applied to Jesus by Christians, describes a righteous figure suffering and dying unjustly, which some early Christians linked to prophet-killing traditions.

These texts reflect a prophetic critique within Israelite tradition, where God’s people are accused of rejecting divine messengers, sometimes violently. The killings are attributed to specific groups (kings, priests, or rebellious people) rather than “the Jews” as a monolithic entity. Early Christian texts (e.g., Matthew 23:37, Luke 13:34) amplify this theme, with Jesus saying, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!” This draws on Old Testament traditions to frame Jesus’ death as part of a pattern. Other Jewish texts from the period, like the Dead Sea Scrolls, do not directly address prophet-killing but criticize corrupt priests and leaders (e.g., the “Wicked Priest” in Pesher Habakkuk), aligning with internal critiques of elites. Josephus, in Jewish Antiquities, mentions persecution of figures like John the Baptist but not a systematic prophet-killing tradition.

In summary, 1 Thessalonians, Matthew, and John contain passages attributing Jesus’ death to Jewish leaders or crowds, with varying degrees of specificity, while the Old Testament describes instances of Israelites killing or rejecting prophets, which early Christians used to contextualize Jesus’ crucifixion.

Sometimes, the Old Testament noted there were transgressions so bad that they rendered animal sacrifice of no effect.

In the Old Testament, certain transgressions were considered so severe that animal sacrifices alone could not atone for them, as they violated the core principles of the covenant with God or required specific consequences beyond the sacrificial system. While the sacrificial system (outlined in Leviticus 1–7) was central to Israelite worship for addressing sins, guilt, and ritual impurity, some passages emphasize that sacrifices were ineffective without genuine repentance, obedience, or justice, and certain sins carried penalties that sacrifices could not mitigate.

The Old Testament distinguishes between unintentional sins (sins of ignorance) and intentional, “high-handed” sins (deliberate rebellion against God). The sacrificial system primarily addressed unintentional sins (Leviticus 4:1–35, Numbers 15:22–29), but certain deliberate or heinous sins were beyond its scope. Numbers 15:30–31 says “But the person who does anything with a high hand, whether he is native or a sojourner, reviles the Lord, and that person shall be cut off from among his people. Because he has despised the word of the Lord and has broken his commandment, that person shall be utterly cut off; his iniquity shall be on him.”  “High-handed” sins (deliberate, defiant acts like blasphemy or idolatry) result in being “cut off” (likely excommunication or death), with no mention of sacrifice as atonement. Examples include blasphemy (Leviticus 24:10–16, punishable by stoning) and Sabbath-breaking (Numbers 15:32–36, also stoning).

Leviticus 20:1–5 notes Offering children to Molech (human sacrifice) is punishable by death, and God says, “I myself will set my face against that man and will cut him off from among his people.” No sacrificial remedy is offered for this grave sin.

Deuteronomy 17:2–7 says Idolatry or worshiping other gods leads to stoning after investigation, with no provision for atonement via sacrifice.

These sins were seen as direct affronts to God’s covenant, requiring punishment (death or exile) rather than sacrificial restoration. Several prophetic texts emphasize that sacrifices are meaningless if offered without genuine repentance, ethical behavior, or justice. God rejects sacrifices when the offerer’s heart or actions remain unrighteous. Isaiah 1:11–17 indicates “What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? says the Lord; I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams and the fat of well-fed beasts… Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression.”  God rejects sacrifices from those who continue in injustice, oppression, or hypocrisy, emphasizing that ethical living is more important than ritual. Jeremiah 6:20 points out “Your burnt offerings are not acceptable, nor your sacrifices pleasing to me.”  In context, Judah’s persistent idolatry and disobedience render sacrifices ineffective, as they fail to address the root issue of covenant unfaithfulness.

Likewise, Hosea 6:6 says “For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.”  Hosea critiques Israel’s reliance on ritual without genuine devotion or repentance, suggesting sacrifices are futile without a changed heart. Amos 5:21–24 says “I hate, I despise your feasts, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies. Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them… But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”  God rejects sacrifices from a people practicing injustice, prioritizing moral righteousness over ritual acts. Micah 6:6–8 says “With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings…? He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”  Sacrifices are insufficient if they lack justice, kindness, and humility.

These passages reflect a prophetic critique that sacrifices are not a mechanical fix; they require a contrite heart and ethical living to be effective. Without these, even properly performed rituals are rejected by God. Certain sins required restitution, punishment, or other remedies that animal sacrifices could not replace. Regarding Murder, Numbers 35:31–33 states, “You shall accept no ransom for the life of a murderer, who is guilty of death, but he shall be put to death… You shall not pollute the land in which you live, for blood pollutes the land, and no atonement can be made for the land for the blood that is shed in it, except by the blood of the one who shed it.”  Murder defiles the land, and only the execution of the murderer, not a sacrifice, can atone for it.

For Adultery and Sexual Sins: Leviticus 20:10–21 prescribes death for sins like adultery or incest, with no mention of sacrificial atonement. For example, “If a man commits adultery with the wife of his neighbor, both the adulterer and the adulteress shall surely be put to death.”

With False Prophecy: Deuteronomy 13:1–5 mandates death for false prophets leading people to other gods, with no sacrificial remedy.

These sins carried legal or divine penalties (death, exile, or curses) that superseded the sacrificial system, which was designed for lesser or unintentional offenses.

The sacrificial system (Leviticus 1–7, 16) was primarily for unintentional sins (Leviticus 4:2, Numbers 15:27–28); Ritual impurities (e.g., childbirth, leprosy; Leviticus 12–15); Restoring covenant relationship (e.g., Day of Atonement, Leviticus 16).

However, the system presupposed a willingness to repent and obey. Psalm 51:16–17 encapsulates this: “For you will not delight in sacrifice, or I would give it; you will not be pleased with a burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” Sacrifices were ineffective without contrition, and for some sins, no sacrifice was prescribed.

The Old Testament’s emphasis on obedience over ritual aligns with its view of the covenant. Deuteronomy 28–30 outlines blessings for obedience and curses for disobedience (e.g., exile for persistent idolatry), suggesting that systemic rebellion (like widespread idolatry or injustice) could lead to national judgment, as seen in the Babylonian exile (2 Kings 25, Jeremiah 52). Sacrifices could not avert such consequences if the people remained unrepentant.. Dead Sea Scrolls: Texts like the Damascus Document (CD 6:11–14) critique the Jerusalem priesthood for defiling the temple and misusing sacrifices, echoing prophetic sentiments that improper heart motives nullify rituals.

Intertestamental and Rabbinic Views: Later Jewish texts (e.g., Mishnah Yoma 8:9) emphasize repentance as essential for atonement, with Yom Kippur sacrifices ineffective without it, reinforcing the Old Testament’s stance. Hebrews 10:4 states, “It is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins,” reflecting a Christian reinterpretation that Old Testament sacrifices were limited, especially for grave or unrepentant sins.

The Old Testament identifies transgressions—such as deliberate, high-handed sins (e.g., idolatry, murder, blasphemy), unrepentant hypocrisy, or systemic injustice—that rendered animal sacrifices ineffective or inapplicable. Sacrifices required repentance and obedience to be meaningful, and certain sins demanded punishment (death or exile) rather than ritual atonement. Prophetic texts repeatedly prioritize justice, mercy, and a contrite heart over mechanical offerings, a theme consistent across Israelite and later Jewish thought.

The cursing of the fig tree in the New Testament seems to mean that just as it is no longer the season for figs, it is no longer the season for the temple.  The tearing of the temple veil is usually understood to be the reconciling of God with man through Jesus’s atonement, but could another reading be the Jews killing God’s especially beloved Jesus being a crime so horrific that it permanently rendered the temple of no effect?  The tearing of the veil would then be the permanent staining of the Holy of Holies like when Roman leaders historically defiled the Jerusalem temple.

The cursing of the fig tree appears in Mark 11:12–14, 20–21 and Matthew 21:18–20. In Mark’s account, Jesus, hungry and finding a fig tree with leaves but no fruit (because “it was not the season for figs”), curses it: “May no one ever eat fruit from you again” (Mark 11:14, ESV). The next day, the disciples find the tree withered. This event is intertwined with the temple cleansing (Mark 11:15–17), where Jesus drives out merchants, calling the temple a “den of robbers” (quoting Jeremiah 7:11). In the Old Testament, fig trees often symbolize Israel or Judah (e.g., Jeremiah 8:13, Hosea 9:10, Micah 7:1–6), with fruitfulness representing covenant faithfulness and barrenness indicating spiritual failure. Many scholars see the fig tree’s cursing as a symbolic judgment on Israel’s religious leadership, particularly the temple establishment, for failing to produce “fruit” (righteousness, justice, or true worship).

Mark’s note that “it was not the season for figs” (11:13) suggests the tree wasn’t expected to bear fruit, which can be read as Jesus judging the temple system as obsolete or out of season—its time for spiritual fruitfulness has passed. This aligns with the suggestion that the temple’s season has ended, as the religious leadership failed to recognize Jesus as the Messiah.

The sandwiching of the temple cleansing between the fig tree episodes in Mark (a literary device called intercalation) links the two events. The withered tree mirrors the temple’s impending judgment, fulfilled in its destruction in 70 CE, which early Christians often viewed as divine retribution for rejecting Jesus. This supports the interpretation that the temple’s role is over, though the text doesn’t explicitly tie this to Jesus’ death as the sole cause.

The tearing of the temple veil is recorded in Matthew 27:51, Mark 15:38, and Luke 23:45, occurring at Jesus’ death: “And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom” (Matthew 27:51, ESV). The veil separated the Holy of Holies, where God’s presence dwelt, from the rest of the temple, accessible only by the high priest once a year on Yom Kippur (Leviticus 16). The dominant Christian reading, especially in Hebrews 10:19–20, sees the veil’s tearing as symbolizing Jesus’ atonement opening direct access to God for all believers, bypassing the temple’s sacrificial system. The “top to bottom” tearing suggests divine action, and Hebrews frames Jesus as the ultimate high priest and sacrifice, rendering the temple obsolete. This view emphasizes reconciliation: Jesus’ death removes the barrier (sin) between God and humanity, fulfilling the Old Testament sacrificial system.

Alternative Reading: Defilement and Judgment. My proposed interpretation—that the veil’s tearing signifies the temple’s permanent defilement due to the “horrific crime” of Jesus’ death—offers a compelling alternative, aligning with themes of divine judgment in the Old Testament and historical temple desecrations. The Old Testament describes sins that defile the sanctuary, rendering it ineffective for atonement. For example, Numbers 35:33–34 states that bloodshed pollutes the land, and “no atonement can be made for the land for the blood that is shed in it, except by the blood of the one who shed it.” Similarly, Leviticus 20:3 notes that offering children to Molech defiles the sanctuary.

Ezekiel 5:11 and 23:38–39 condemn Israel for defiling the temple through idolatry and injustice, leading to God’s departure from it (Ezekiel 10:18–19). These texts suggest that grave sins could render the temple spiritually ineffective, aligning with my idea that Jesus’ death (as an unjust killing) could defile the Holy of Holies.

Historical desecrations, like Antiochus IV Epiphanes’ sacrifice of a pig in the temple (167 BCE, 1 Maccabees 1:41–50) or Pompey’s entry into the Holy of Holies (63 BCE, Josephus, Jewish Antiquities 14.4), were seen as polluting the temple, requiring purification (e.g., the Maccabean rededication). My reading likens the veil’s tearing to such defilements, with Jesus’ death as a moral or spiritual desecration by the Jewish elite.

The Gospels link Jesus’ death to divine judgment on the temple. Matthew 23:35–38 has Jesus prophesying Jerusalem’s desolation because its leaders killed prophets and will kill him, saying, “so that on you may come all the righteous blood shed on earth” (23:35). This connects to your idea of Jesus’ death as a climactic sin triggering judgment.

The parable of the wicked tenants (Matthew 21:33–46) portrays the religious leaders as tenants who kill the landowner’s son (Jesus), leading to their replacement. This implies their role in Jesus’ death incurs divine retribution, potentially rendering the temple system void.

The veil’s tearing at Jesus’ death, paired with other signs (darkness, earthquake in Matthew 27:51–54), suggests a divine act of judgment, not just reconciliation. The “top to bottom” tearing could symbolize God’s abandonment of the temple, akin to Ezekiel’s vision of God’s glory departing.

Early Christian texts like Acts 6:14 and Stephen’s speech (Acts 7:48–50) critique the temple as inadequate, accusing the Jewish leaders of resisting God’s plan, which could support the idea that their role in Jesus’ death finalized the temple’s obsolescence.

Unlike Antiochus or Pompey’s physical desecrations, the veil’s tearing is a supernatural event, not a human act of defilement. However, my reading could frame the Jewish elite’s complicity in Jesus’ death (as portrayed in the Gospels, e.g., Matthew 27:1–2, John 19:7–16) as a moral defilement so severe that it parallels those acts. The Sanhedrin’s decision to hand Jesus over to Pilate (Mark 15:1) and the crowd’s demand for crucifixion (Matthew 27:25) are presented as culpable acts, though Romans executed the sentence.

Josephus (Jewish War 6.2.4) records portents before the temple’s destruction in 70 CE, including a heavy gate opening unaided, interpreted as divine abandonment. Early Christians might have seen the veil’s tearing similarly, as God withdrawing from a defiled or obsolete temple due to the rejection of Jesus.

My interpretation aligns with early Christian views, like Eusebius’ (Ecclesiastical History 3.5–7), that the temple’s destruction was divine punishment for rejecting Jesus. The veil’s tearing could symbolize this judgment, with the Holy of Holies exposed and the temple system permanently invalidated.

Old Testament precedents (e.g., Numbers 35:33, Ezekiel 5:11) show that grave sins, like unjust bloodshed, defile the land or sanctuary, rendering sacrifices ineffective. Jesus’ death as an innocent “prophet” or “Son of God” could be seen as the ultimate bloodshed, polluting the temple spiritually. The Gospels’ portrayal of the Jewish elite’s role (e.g., Caiaphas in John 11:49–53, Matthew 27:1) as orchestrating Jesus’ death could frame it as a climactic sin, echoing Old Testament warnings of judgment for killing prophets (Nehemiah 9:26, 1 Kings 19:10).

The veil’s tearing as a divine act could symbolize exposure or desecration, like God’s glory leaving in Ezekiel, rather than just access to God.

My reading—that the fig tree’s cursing signals the temple’s end and the veil’s tearing marks its permanent defilement due to Jesus’ death—is a plausible alternative interpretation, supported by the fig tree’s symbolism, Old Testament precedents for defilement by bloodshed, and the Gospels’ judgment motifs against the elite. It frames Jesus’ death as a sin so grave (akin to killing prophets) that it renders the temple system void, like historical desecrations by Romans.

Jesus’ trial by the Jewish high council shows multiple transgressions of Jewish tradition and laws (e.g., meeting on Passover Eve), with just as many legal loopholes possible to give the trial surface credibility as the Jewish elite manipulated the letter of the law and ignored the spirit of the law.  This was the very definition of blasphemy, manipulating God’s word to do what the Gospel of John says God forbid: kill Jesus.  Jesus thus made conspicuous the hidden sinfulness of the Jewish elite, like the two angels in Lot’s story made conspicuous the depravity of Sodom.  As Paul said, “the commandment was given so sin would become sinful beyond measure.”

The trial of Jesus by the Jewish high council (Sanhedrin) was not only procedurally flawed but also a profound act of blasphemy, as it manipulated Jewish law to achieve the opposite of God’s will—killing Jesus, God’s beloved Son. By drawing parallels to the angels exposing Sodom’s depravity in Genesis 19 and Paul’s statement in Romans 7:13 about the law revealing sin’s true nature, I frame Jesus’ trial as a moment where the Jewish elite’s hidden sinfulness was laid bare. Let’s unpack this by examining the trial’s legal irregularities, the charge of blasphemy, the comparison to Sodom, and the Pauline theology I referenced, grounding the discussion in biblical texts, historical context, and Jewish legal traditions.

The accounts of Jesus’ trial before the Sanhedrin (Matthew 26:57–68, Mark 14:53–65, Luke 22:66–71, John 18:12–24) depict several procedural irregularities that appear to violate Jewish legal traditions, particularly as codified later in the Mishnah (Sanhedrin and related tractates, circa 200 CE). While the Mishnah postdates Jesus’ time, it reflects Pharisaic and earlier Second Temple practices, providing a framework to assess the trial. The Gospels suggest the Jewish elite manipulated these laws, exploiting loopholes to give the trial a veneer of legitimacy while ignoring the spirit of justice. The trial occurs at night (Matthew 26:57, Mark 14:53) and possibly on Passover Eve or during Passover (based on Synoptic chronology, Matthew 26:17–20, though John 19:14 places it before Passover). Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:1 prohibits capital trials at night or on the eve of a Sabbath or festival, as these times could rush judgment. Holding the trial then suggests haste and disregard for deliberate justice. The Sanhedrin may have justified a nighttime session as an emergency to address a perceived threat (Jesus’ popularity, John 11:48), claiming it wasn’t a formal trial but a preliminary hearing. Luke 22:66 notes a morning session, which could be framed as the “official” trial to align with daytime requirements.

The Gospels report conflicting testimony from witnesses (Mark 14:56–59), with some claiming Jesus said he would destroy the temple. Mishnah Sanhedrin 5:1–2 requires witnesses to agree precisely in capital cases, and false testimony invalidates a trial. The high priest Caiaphas shifts focus to Jesus’ own testimony (Matthew 26:62–64), bypassing the need for valid witnesses. By eliciting Jesus’ claim to be the Messiah and Son of God, they frame it as self-incriminating blasphemy, sidestepping the witness issue.

Caiaphas questions Jesus directly and rends his garments (Matthew 26:65, Mark 14:63), declaring him guilty of blasphemy. Mishnah Sanhedrin 7:5 requires a formal process for blasphemy, involving pronouncing God’s sacred name (YHWH), which Jesus does not do. The high priest’s active role in questioning may violate impartiality norms. Jesus’ claim to be “the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power” (Mark 14:62) could be interpreted as implying divine status, a broader interpretation of blasphemy not strictly tied to pronouncing God’s name. The Sanhedrin may have exploited this ambiguity to justify condemnation.

Jesus is given little opportunity to defend himself, and the trial appears rushed. Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:5 emphasizes acquittal over conviction in capital cases, with a day’s delay for reflection. The Sanhedrin could argue Jesus’ silence (Matthew 26:63) or his messianic claims constituted admission of guilt, negating the need for prolonged deliberation.

The trial occurs at the high priest’s house (Matthew 26:57), not a formal Sanhedrin chamber. Mishnah Sanhedrin 11:2 suggests capital trials should occur in designated court settings. An informal “consultation” (John 11:47–53) rather than a full trial could be claimed, allowing flexibility in venue and procedure.

The Gospels portray the Sanhedrin, led by Caiaphas and other elites, as exploiting these loopholes to achieve a predetermined outcome—Jesus’ death. John 11:49–50 has Caiaphas arguing, “It is better for you that one man should die for the people, not that the whole nation should perish,” suggesting political expediency (preserving Roman favor) over justice. This manipulation—using the letter of the law (e.g., a loose definition of blasphemy) while ignoring its spirit (justice, mercy, fairness)—aligns with my charge of blasphemy, as it perverts God’s covenantal law to condemn the one they present as God’s Son.

Josephus (Jewish Antiquities 18.2.2) notes that high priests like Caiaphas were Roman appointees, often navigating political pressures. The Sanhedrin’s authority under Roman rule was limited; they could not execute capital sentences (John 18:31), explaining why they handed Jesus to Pilate. This context suggests the elite’s actions were partly driven by fear of Roman reprisal or loss of power (John 11:48), but the Gospels frame their legal maneuvers as hypocritical and sinful, echoing Old Testament critiques of corrupt leaders (e.g., Micah 3:11). My argument that the Sanhedrin’s manipulation of Jewish law constitutes blasphemy is theologically potent. In Jewish tradition, blasphemy typically involves misusing or profaning God’s name or authority (Leviticus 24:16, Mishnah Sanhedrin 7:5). By extension, twisting God’s law—intended to uphold justice and holiness—to orchestrate Jesus’ death could be seen as a profound misuse of divine authority, especially if Jesus is God’s Son, as the Gospels claim (John 10:36, Mark 14:61–62). This resonates with Old Testament Precedents: Prophets condemned leaders for perverting justice, effectively blaspheming God’s will. Isaiah 5:20 warns, “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil,” and Amos 5:7 criticizes those who “turn justice to wormwood.” The Sanhedrin’s actions could be seen as such a perversion, condemning the innocent Jesus under the guise of upholding the law.

John 19:7 has the Jewish leaders demand Jesus’ death because “he made himself the Son of God,” and John 10:33 accuses him of blasphemy for claiming divine status. Yet, John presents Jesus as the divine Word (John 1:1–14), meaning the elite’s rejection of him opposes God’s will, ironically making their actions blasphemous in a deeper sense.

The Gospels frame the Sanhedrin’s charge of blasphemy against Jesus as a projection of their own sin. By manipulating the law to kill the one they present as God’s anointed, they profane the very covenant they claim to uphold, fulfilling Jesus’ critique of the elite as hypocrites (Matthew 23:27–28).

My comparison to the two angels in Genesis 19, who expose Sodom’s depravity, is a striking analogy. In Genesis 19:1–11, the angels visit Lot, and the men of Sodom demand to violate them, revealing the city’s wickedness, which triggers divine judgment (fire and brimstone, Genesis 19:24–25). Similarly, I suggest Jesus’ presence and trial make conspicuous the hidden sinfulness of the Jewish elite, leading to the temple’s judgment (its destruction in 70 CE). In Sodom, the angels’ presence provokes the residents to reveal their depravity through their demand to rape them. Likewise, Jesus’ teachings and claims (e.g., messianic authority, John 10:30–33) provoke the elite’s hostility, exposing their hypocrisy, greed, and willingness to pervert justice. Matthew 23:13–36 lists Jesus’ woes against the scribes and Pharisees, calling them “hypocrites” and “whitewashed tombs,” accusing them of shedding righteous blood (23:35), which culminates in his own death.

Sodom’s destruction follows the angels’ visit, was interpreted as God’s response to their sin (Genesis 18:20–21). The Gospels and early Christian tradition (e.g., Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 3.5–7) link the temple’s destruction in 70 CE to the elite’s rejection of Jesus, as discussed earlier The tearing of the temple veil (Matthew 27:51) at Jesus’ death could symbolize this judgment, as I suggested, rendering the temple ineffective.

The angels, as divine emissaries, are innocent yet targeted, revealing Sodom’s true nature. Jesus, presented as God’s Son and sinless (John 8:46, Hebrews 4:15), is unjustly condemned, exposing the elite’s corruption. This aligns with my view that Jesus’ trial makes their sin “sinful beyond measure.”

The Dead Sea Scrolls (e.g., Pesher Habakkuk) describe a “Wicked Priest” whose corruption is exposed by the righteous Teacher of Righteousness, paralleling Jesus exposing the elite’s sin. Psalms of Solomon 17 (1st century BCE) anticipates a messiah who will expose and judge corrupt leaders, aligning with the Gospels’ portrayal of Jesus.

4. Paul’s Statement in Romans 7:13 is “The commandment was given so sin would become sinful beyond measure.” The actual text reads: “Did that which is good [the law], then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure” (ESV). Paul explains that the law (Torah) is holy but reveals sin by defining it. By prohibiting sin, the law makes people aware of their disobedience, amplifying sin’s gravity. Sin seizes the opportunity to provoke rebellion, making its true nature evident. Applied to Jesus’ trial, my interpretation suggests the Sanhedrin’s misuse of the law (God’s commandment) to condemn Jesus exposes their sinfulness “beyond measure.” Their legal manipulations—twisting Torah to kill the Messiah—reveal the depth of their hypocrisy, fulfilling Paul’s idea that the law highlights sin’s true nature.

In Romans 3:19–20, Paul says the law makes the world accountable to God, as “through the law comes knowledge of sin.” The elite’s actions, under the guise of upholding the law, ironically condemn them by revealing their opposition to God’s will (John 19:11).

The trial becomes a moment where the law’s purpose (revealing sin) is fulfilled. Jesus, as the sinless one, exposes the elite’s corruption by their unjust use of the law, much as the angels’ presence provoked Sodom’s sin to surface. This aligns with my earlier suggestion that Jesus’ death rendered the temple ineffective, as the elite’s sin—blasphemously manipulating God’s law—defiles the covenant system, symbolized by the veil’s tearing.

Early Christian texts like Hebrews 10:1–4 argue the law and sacrifices were shadows, unable to perfect the worshipers, pointing to Jesus as the true atonement. The elite’s failure to recognize this, instead using the law to kill him, underscores their spiritual blindness.

The Sanhedrin’s procedural violations and legal loopholes (e.g., nighttime trial, loose blasphemy charge) reflect a manipulation of God’s law, which, in the Gospels’ view, is blasphemous given Jesus’ divine identity. This perversion of justice mirrors Old Testament critiques of corrupt leaders (Isaiah 1:15–17, Amos 5:21–24) who offer sacrifices or rituals without righteousness.

Like the angels in Sodom, Jesus’ presence and trial provoke the elite to reveal their hypocrisy, fulfilling Paul’s idea that the law exposes sin’s depth. The Gospels’ portrayal of Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin as politically motivated (John 11:48–50) supports this exposure of hidden sinfulness. The veil’s tearing (Matthew 27:51) can be read as divine judgment, rendering the temple obsolete due to the elite’s sin in killing Jesus, akin to Old Testament defilements (Ezekiel 5:11). This connects to the fig tree’s cursing, signaling the end of the temple’s season.

Romans 7:13 frames the law as revealing sin’s true nature, which applies to the trial: the elite’s misuse of Torah to condemn Jesus makes their sin “sinful beyond measure,” justifying divine judgment (e.g., 70 CE destruction).

This interpretation is robust and theologically coherent within the New Testament’s framework. The Sanhedrin’s trial of Jesus, marked by legal irregularities and loopholes, can be seen as blasphemous manipulation of God’s law, especially in John’s view that it opposed God’s will by condemning Jesus. This act exposes the elite’s hidden sinfulness, akin to the angels revealing Sodom’s depravity, and aligns with Paul’s theology in Romans 7:13 that the law makes sin evident. The trial’s outcome—Jesus’ death—renders the temple ineffective, as symbolized by the veil’s tearing and the fig tree’s cursing, fulfilling the judgment motif seen in early Christian thought (e.g., Eusebius). By focusing on the elite’s actions, your reading avoids broader anti-Jewish implications and grounds itself in the Gospels’ critique of corrupt leadership, supported by Old Testament precedents and Second Temple sources. The fig is cursed, which doesn’t align with a glorious atonement reading.

Some scholars try to rescue the historicity of the account of Jesus’s trial with the Jewish elite in a manner that seems highly dubious. For instance, from John Hamilton we read:

However, the Synoptic chronology is not impossible, for as [Josef] Blinzler says, the prohibition of legal proceedings on feast days was less strictly enforced than that of holding courts on the Sabbath, ‘therefore it is quite thinkable that it did not seem to the Sanhedrists an infringement of an important rule to start a legal trial even on the night of the Pesach’. It is the argument of this article that all the Gospels witness to such a trial which, while viable in its date, contravened accepted practice as subsequently enshrined in the Mishnah at many points, as Blinzler shows. For example, the proceedings took place in the house of Caiaphas, not in the Temple, and though Jesus had not actually pronounced the Name of God, he was condemned as a blasphemer. He was not offered an advocate; the witnesses were not warned before being examined; nor were they called to account for false witness. The members of the Sanhedrin, although witnesses of the alleged blasphemy, took part in the passing of the sentence, though it was not legal for them to do so. As Blinzler says, one is not able ‘to spare the Sanhedrin the reproach of very serious infringement of the law’. The question is, why did they do this?‘ It will not do to suggest that the occasion was a sham—the proceedings were undoubtedly carried through before a competent bench of judges’. Nor can their contraventions of the Mishnaic code be simply dismissed by saying that it was not yet in force. It is true that it was not codified until about 200 AD, and reflects conditions which obtained then, but it certainly enshrines earlier practice to a considerable extent. For example, Segal says that in describing Temple ritual, it may be employed with confidence. May not the same apply to legal practice?… Before the Feast of the Passover Caiaphas is reported to have said in council: ‘It is expedient for you that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation should not perish’ (Jn. 11:50). Expediency was the factor which determined his conduct. When the opportunity unexpectedly presented itself to secure Jesus’ death, he and the priests avidly took it. Spurred on by their hatred of him; persuaded that as he was a false teacher, his execution on a feast day would be appropriate; and pressurized by shortage of time, they held his trial on the paschal night. In this trial they contravened normal legal practice at many points. The fact that they could do this in the legal sphere makes it likely that they could, because of the exceptional circumstances, also contravene ritual practice. For the exigencies of the case demanded that they work through the night. Early next morning therefore, they still had not eaten their paschal meal [emphasis mine]. (Hamilton, 1992, pp. 335-336)

We can certainly explain away the apparent impropriety with “maybe if we look at it this way” and “maybe that,” if we assume that the narrative is historical. But it seems just as likely that the writers were emphasizing and augmenting the wrongs being done to Jesus, who they felt he was wrongly executed – to make a point about the world turning on God’s specially beloved agapetos. Is the most parsimonious explanation really that in the case of a multitude of apparent illegalities, there are a multitude of loopholes that happened historically? Or are the gospel writers making the point that the crafty (1 Cor 3:19-29) Jewish leaders were manipulating God’s words while they knew that they were going against His will in getting Jesus killed (e.g., John 18:31), and so they tricked the Romans into executing Jesus (akin to how Darius’ officials conspired against Daniel by tricking King Darius into throwing Daniel into the lion’s den in Daniel 6)? Is the true meaning of blasphemy cursing God, or rather is it knowingly twisting God’s words to serve one’s own agenda? The Jewish trial of Jesus in the Gospels is expressed by Paul’s thoughts about the world versus the Christian approach that “We have renounced the shameful, underhanded ways; we refuse to practice cunning or to falsify God’s word…” (2 Corinthians 4:2).

Once again, just as the extensive use of Jewish (e.g., Jesus as the New and greater Moses) and Greco-Roman (Jesus as the new and greater Dionysus) typology was noted, so too we have with Jesus’ “trial” a fiction made out of a sophisticated understanding and manipulation of Jewish law and tradition to create satire that screams at an elite educated writer, not the oral traditions of an illiterate community:

Certainly therefore, an execution would have been contrary to the sabbatical nature of the first paschal day. However, Deut. 17: 12-13 prescribes the death penalty for anyone who opposes the decisions of the priests, to be carried out so that ‘all the people shall hear and fear’, and the Mishnah (Sanhedrin 11:4) gives special instructions for the execution of a rebellious teacher: ‘He was kept in guard until one of the three feasts, and he was put to death on one of the three feasts’. This shows that in certain circumstances executions were permitted on feast days. Moreover, [Paul] Billerbeck says that where an example is required ‘to protect the Torah from wilfully severe transgressions, an execution may, as an exception, supersede a feast day’. (Hamilton, 1992, p. 335)

Again, this seems to make perfect literary sense. Just as Mark’s narrative of the crucifixion is haggadic midrash recapitulating Isaiah 53 and Psalm 22, perhaps with the trial Deuteronomy 17:12-13 is the literary origin of the story. Just as we have a very sophisticated use of the Hebrew scriptures using haggadic midrash, so too we see a sophisticated use of the Jewish tradition with the crafting of the satirical trial of Jesus about the corrupt Jewish leaders.  Analogously, Jesus’ temple tantrum story is absurd as the temple was huge and had guards to prevent just such a disturbance.  The temple incident is just a way of connecting Jesus to the death by Rome as an enemy of the state (King of the Jews) because the Jewish leaders weren’t allowed to kill him.

Like a late dating of Paul has Paul seeming to summarize Mark’s use of scriptural allusions to craft the crucifixion (would not a reader be baffled by Paul’s statement if they didn’t have the Markan context?), Paul summarizes the theme of Mark’s trial of the Jewish experts manipulating the letter of the law to their own ends and ignoring God’s intention: the spirit of the law.  Paul says “through the commandment sin might become sinful beyond measure (Rom 7:13).”  We see then why Paul says in 1 Thessalonians certain Jews killed Jesus (the elite and the bloodthirsty crowd) and Matthew has the Jews say Jesus’ blood is upon them.

The purpose of the law wasn’t just to teach you right from wrong but to open your eyes by making sin sinful beyond measure to circumcise the fleshly from your heart.  God is sometimes depicted as wanting a contrite heart, not animal offerings (psalm 50:8; Hosea 6:6; psalm 51:16; etc).  Mark’s Jewish trial of Jesus seems to be a caricature exploiting a negative view of the Jewish elite around the supposed time of Jesus.  There is substantial historical evidence from 1st-century and near-contemporary sources indicating that Jewish leaders—such as Pharisees, Sadducees, priests, and members of the Sanhedrin—were often viewed negatively. These criticisms stemmed from intra-Jewish disputes over religious practices, purity laws, authority, corruption, and theological differences.

New research such as Rillera and Anderson have rethought the whole sacrificial system, and so the traditional appeal to Hebrews for substitutionary atonement readings become problematic.

Not only is the syntax almost the same between Heb 10:18 and 26, but the sins being referred to in Jeremiah and thus in Heb 10:18 are also the same types of sins for which Num 15:30-31 declares there is no purgation sacrifice available. These sins are framed in the prophets both as intentional and as sins that generate moral impurity on the land (idolatry, murder [and exploitation], sexual immorality). Hence the need for a total restart: a new covenant. Therefore, the claim in Heb 10:16-18 is that these sins that led to the exile (cf. 9:15) simply need to be forgiven by God and the proof that they have been forgiven would be the establishment of the new covenant as Jeremiah promised. Jesus has inaugurated the new covenant; ergo, these sins have been forgiven…. Some link the notion that there is no longer a purgation offering in 10:18 to the “once for all” aspect in 10:10, 12, 14, meaning something like: “There is no longer a need to offer more purgation sacrifices because Jesus was the final once-for-all purgation sacrifice.” While the “once for all” aspect is obviously there and important, the context for these is a quotation of LXX Ps 39:7-9 (Eng. 40:6-8), which says God does not desire purgation sacrifices nor any of the other ones (Heb 10:6, 8). Instead, it is obedience to God’s will that matters (10:7, 9). That is, the claim in 10:18 is not saying: “Purgation sacrifices are necessary to deal with these grave sins, but the problem is that they only have a mere temporary effect and thus need to keep being offered. But since Jesus himself is the ultimate one-off purgation sacrifice we no longer need any more purgation sacrifices? No. The point being made is the purgation sacrifices were always impotent to deal with grave sins and they were never intended to be a means of moral purification, just as we detailed in chapters 3 and 4. Another remedy outside of the purgation sacrifices needs to be sought for these sins. According to Hebrews, God revealed this in LXX PS 39. What this means is Jesus’s obedience to God’s will (i.e., his “life”) constitutes his “offering” (10:10). Jesus’s obedient human life is what is “once for all” (10:10). Jesus’s death is the culmination of a full life of obedience (5:7-9; cf. 2:9, 14-15; Phil 2:5-8), but the focus is on Jesus’s whole embodied life doing God’s will (hence, soma, “body,” Heb 5:5, 10).585 This is what is conceptualized as better than any of the sacrifices from LXX Ps 39. And while Jesus’s obedient life is conceptualized as a “sacrifice” (10:12) and “offering” (10:10, 14) that takes place “in behalf of sins” (hyper harmartion) (10:14), this sacrifice is not conceptualized here as “a purgation offering” (peri hamartias), which is used in 10:6, 8, and 18. Rather, the “offering”/”sacrifice” that Jesus is being analogized to in 10:10, 12, 14 is the non-atoning covenant-inauguration sacrifices, which is confirmed by the quotation of Jeremiah’s new-covenant passage in 10:16-17 and then reinforced in 10:29 all of which is returning to the point made in 9:15-20. The point of Heb 10:1-15, then, just as discussed in chapters 3 and 4, is that none of these sacrifices were ever meant to be able to purify the worshiper from grave sins. It would not make sense for the author of Hebrews to say,” these sacrifices cannot purify by their God-ordained design (cf. 10:8), but I nevertheless want to assert that Jesus-as-purgation-sacrifice just does this?” Why analogize Jesus to a specific cultic ritual that cannot address the problem at hand? That comparison would be unintelligible, especially when there are plenty of other cultic analogies to draw upon, along with the prophetic promises…. That said, the point in 9:12 and 22-28 is that Jesus does for the heavenly sanctuary what the purgation sacrifices do for the earthly sanctuary: namely, they grant the high priest access to the holy of holies and decontaminate the sancta (cf. 9:7, 23-25). (Rillera 2024, pp. 217-218)

Next Time:

Resolving the Gethsemane Contradiction