The parable ends with a mysterious remark about the son and the stone. "The stone which the builders rejected is the same that became the chief corner" (Mark 12:10). This is a quote from Psalm 117, a psalm of pilgrims singing about the construction of the Temple and the resumption of worship and sacrifices in it. Jesus thus declared his intention to build an eschatological Temple. In addition, Daniel's vision (Dan. 2) of the stone that broke the image and became a kingdom that filled the whole earth was often interpreted in the Messianic light. Also, many of those who read the Book of Daniel in the first century found a peculiar play on words: "stone" ("eben") and "son" ("ben") are consonant in Hebrew. The culmination of the story of the winegrowers is the murder of their son. However, it is precisely this messianic "kamen" that the builders rejected. Subsequently, it formed the foundation of the entire structure. The domination of his opponents (as well as their Temple) has come to an end, but his kingdom endures forever. This cryptic statement provides an additional, deeper explanation of Jesus' actions in the Temple.

The third riddle that interests us is Jesus' question about the Lord and the Son of David (Mark 12:35-37). How can the Messiah be the Son of David, if in Ps. E-109 Did he call him Lord? In this matter, some see a denial of the messianic connection between Jesus and David, but this interpretation is erroneous. It is more reasonable to assume that it testifies to a rethinking of the personality of the Messiah from the line of David. In particular, Jesus refuted the popular idea of him as a future warrior king. However, it would be strange to use the militant Psalm 109 for this purpose. I myself believe that this question has a double meaning. First of all, later in the psalm the king is called "a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek." This gives him authority over the Temple, so that Jesus' question serves as an additional indirect explanation of his intentions. Secondly, the entire psalm in general and the verse quoted here in particular add new touches to the portrait of the Messiah – the depiction of the scene of the accession to the throne. He who sits on the throne will judge the people of Israel. In this way, Jesus asserts his right to pass judgment on both the Temple and its servants. In this way, he simultaneously confirms his belonging to the line of David and orders his right to be called his Lord. This will be discussed in more detail in the next chapter.

All of these cryptic utterances fit naturally into the statements of Jesus himself. The same can be said of the following passage, the so-called apocalyptic sermon in Mk. 13 and parallel passages mentioned in the second chapter. Suffice it to note that there is a clear messianic subtext in this passage, which is also emphasized by the fact that Jesus calls himself "the son of man" in it. In the first century, as evidenced by the works of Josephus, the 4th book of Ezra and other sources, many Jews saw the coming King in the image of the Son of Man, who suffered at the hands of the beast and was saved.

This may also be helpful in dealing with one of the most controversial topics, the Jewish trial of Jesus in Mk. 14, 33–65 It has become customary, and even in some sense traditional, to see a number of illogical conclusions in the description of the interrogation of Caiaphas. It is even believed that it reflects not the events of the life of Jesus, but the further development of the theological thought of the early Church. In certain scholarly circles, to question this interpretation is to incur a condemnation previously directed only against heretical theologians.

However, if you read this passage in a broader context, it acquires a new, quite coherent sound. Caiaphas asked Jesus a question about his actions in the Temple. Such a beginning is natural, since they were most likely the direct cause of his arrest, Hearing no answer, Caiaphas asked Jesus directly if he considered himself the Messiah. Jesus' answer should be considered affirmative: In support of his words, he quoted from two biblical passages that had already played a role in his messianic "gaggles" of Ps. 109 and Dan. 7 – "See the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Power" and "coming on the clouds of heaven." In other words, Caiaphas was to witness the final victory of Jesus, as evidenced by the events that followed his death. At the same time, the old social system and its main symbol were doomed to destruction. This last statement not only answers the question of Jesus' messiahship, but also reveals the meaning of his behavior in the Temple and the cryptic explanations he offered. In addition, it helps to understand why the chief priests so easily handed Jesus over to the Roman procurator, declaring him an impostor king, while Pilate himself ordered a tablet with the inscription "King of the Jews" to be sewn at the head of the cross.

Historically, this sequence of events puts everything in its place. It leaves no doubt as to why Jesus' followers recognized him as the Messiah after his resurrection. As the big picture unfolds, we can see how well much of Jesus' ministry fits into it before he came to Jerusalem. Among the testimonies rarely mentioned in this connection are several passages that speak of an emerging confrontation between Jesus and Herod, who claimed the title of King of the Jews. The Qumran Scrolls contain interesting texts that contain indications of Jesus' messiahship that we might not have noticed. The festive feasts of Jesus with a diverse group of followers symbolized the coming feast of the Messiah. This is also evidenced by many parables and brief statements. Jesus never doubted his calling as the Messiah, but it was not until Jerusalem that this assurance became apparent, expressed in symbolic actions rather than in words. If we consider Jesus' behavior in the Temple as the starting point of our study, we will see that Jesus felt his messiahship at least from the moment of his baptism. And although his ministry in Galilee and Jerusalem obviously bore the stamp of the prophetic, messianic features were unmistakably discernible in him.

Of course, we are talking about a rethinking of the concept of the Messiah, which was supposed to correspond to a renewed concept of the Kingdom of God. Jesus saw himself as the center of attraction for the true Israel, returned to the homeland, for the subjects of the Kingdom of God. However, this Kingdom, the people, and the Messiah were nothing like what most Jews expected them to be. Jesus exhorted his hearers to follow a different path of national self-determination. We cannot help but recognize his conviction of his own calling to walk this path as God's anointed and to do for Israel (and therefore for the whole world) what Israel itself could not or would not do. Jesus' reinterpretation of the concept of the Messiah did not go beyond the scope of his preaching of the kingdom in word or deed. It was to help Israel fulfill its destiny in a way that no one could have imagined. Jesus came on behalf of Yahweh's people to end the exile, revive the covenant, and grant forgiveness of sins. He came for the salvation of Israel and the restoration of God's justice in the world.

But how to do it. Judging by the activities of the Messianic and similar Jewish movements, one would expect the following to happen: Jesus would go to Jerusalem, fight the forces of evil, and ascend the throne as the Messiah, the true King of Israel. In a sense, Jesus lived up to those expectations. However, everything did not happen as his followers imagined.

Crucifixion of the Messiah

Jesus' confidence in his Messianic calling is, in my opinion, one of the key points that reveals to us the significance of the crucifixion as part of that calling. In doing so, of course, we will have to ask why the Jewish authorities handed Jesus over to the Romans and why they crucified him. However, to be brief, I would like to focus on the intentions of Jesus himself.

Let me make a short introduction. When I was teaching at Maxwell University in Montreal, I was asked to teach classes for twelve-year-olds at the Sunday school of a local church. Once I asked the children: "Why did Jesus die?" And gave them time to think about the answer on their own, without consulting each other. Then everyone in turn was invited to express their opinion. Interestingly, about half of the disciples cited historical reasons: he died because the chief priests and Pharisees were dissatisfied with him, or because the Romans feared him. The other half offered theological answers: he died to save us from our sins so that we could go to heaven, or because God loves us. We spent a whole hour comparing these answers fascinatingly. I don't know if any of these children remember what we were doing, but I haven't forgotten it. I remain convinced that the juxtaposition of the two sides of this serious question, the historical and the theological, is one of the most important tasks in the study of the person of Jesus.

Here we are inevitably confronted with two main problems of historical description. First of all (and I do not have the opportunity to substantiate my words at this time), I believe that, despite the abundance of different points of view and theological interpretations contained in existing written sources, there is still not much historical material in them. Second, considerable disagreement arose as to whether Jesus went to Jerusalem with the intention of giving his life, or at least because he was aware of the danger that threatened him and did not seek to escape it. Here we return to the difference in the views of Schweitzer and Wrede. The latter, like most twentieth-century theologians, rejected the idea that Jesus' death was not accidental, or that he at least did not rule out the possibility of such an outcome. Schweitzer, on the other hand, by studying the person of Jesus in an eschatological and apocalyptic context, was able to make sense of Jesus' seemingly strange intentions. Taking into account the necessary corrections and additions, my assumptions are close to Schweitzer's ideas.