Much More than a Triumphal Entry: The Old Testament Interweaving in Mk 11:1-11

Abstract

Studies on the presence of the Old Testament (OT) in the New Testament (NT) have evolved significantly over time. Scholars have moved from a focus on identifying the textual version employed by the evangelists to attempts to systematize the various levels of the OT’s presence, classifying them as quotations, allusions, or echoes. In reality, biblical references permeate the NT, often going unnoticed. Unveiling them and, above all, approaching them through the interpretative logic characteristic of Judaism at the turn of the era imparts a surplus of meaning to the NT text. This is what this article demonstrates through an example from the Gospel according to Mark. There is no doubt about the strong biblical resonances in the passage describing Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem (Mk 11:1-11). In addition to a quotation from Psalm 118 (Mk 11:9-10), scholars recognize an allusion to Genesis and multiple references to texts from the book of Zechariah. This article will illustrate how drawing upon Jewish exegetical tradition from the turn of the era sheds light both on the way these OT references are interpreted and on how the various biblical references interconnect, enriching and expanding the meaning of the Gospel passage.

1. Introduction

The presence of the Old Testament (OT) in the New Testament (NT) has undergone significant evolution over time. This transformation has paralleled advancements in understanding both the transmission process of the biblical text and the ways in which it may have been interpreted during the period when the Christian section of the Bible was composed (Ellis 1991). The concern with precisely identifying the version of the OT employed by a NT author and assessing their fidelity to the biblical text in comparison to the versions we have today was coherent with a static conception of Scripture—one that did not consider the textual fluidity of the period. This approach also adhered to a hierarchical view of OT versions, which privileged the Hebrew text over the Greek. In this vein, it is not surprising that, for some time, the dominant perspective considered the use of the OT in the NT to serve an apologetic function, as suggested by the Testimonies hypothesis (Harris 1916, 1920; Falcetta 2003).

Initially, studies on how the NT employed the OT were limited to citations, whether explicit or implicit (Moyise 2001). However, the concept of citation soon proved too narrow to encompass the broader and more complex presence of the OT within the NT. Consequently, scholars sought criteria to identify and differentiate other types of biblical references, such as allusions and echoes (Hays 1989, pp. 25–33; Thompson 1991, pp. 28–36; Beetham 2008, pp. 15–24). Despite this, these categories were soon questioned due to their inherent limitations and ambiguity (Porter 1997, pp. 79–88; Beale 2012, pp. 29–40). The difficulty of systematizing and categorizing the NT’s engagement with the OT became increasingly apparent. These scholarly efforts underwent a paradigm shift with the deepening exploration of the Dead Sea Scrolls and the growing familiarity with the methods of scriptural interpretation characteristic of Second Temple Judaism (Docherty 2015).

The Qumran manuscripts provided new insights into the complexity of the biblical text (Tov 1998), revealing the pluralistic nature of Judaism at the turn of the era and, above all, offering a window into the customary ways in which Scripture was interpreted among Jews of this period (VanderKam 2006). The attempts to define, separate, and categorize the presence of the OT in the NT appeared even more constrained when viewed through the lens of Jewish exegetical thought. This interpretative logic is governed by two fundamental certainties.

The first of these certainties is that the Word of God is not exhausted in a single meaning. What YHWH has willed to communicate is considered valid for all times and circumstances, necessitating a continuous process of rereading and reinterpretation of Scripture. From this perspective, bringing to light the multiplicity of meanings inherent in Scripture is understood as a divine imperative—essential to ensuring that God’s communication does not become a lifeless text but continues to illuminate each new context.

The second certainty governing Jewish interpretative logic is the profound unity of the Word. God is One, and His salvific plan is likewise unified. Consequently, the various books and passages of Scripture are perceived as intimately interconnected, regardless of how disparate or even contradictory they may initially appear. This underlying unity, which transcends any superficial differences, enables a natural and spontaneous connection between characters, passages, times, and places mentioned in the biblical text.

These two interpretative certainties are not only present throughout the Bible, both in the OT and the NT, but—as the study of the Qumran findings has confirmed—they also permeate the Jewish literature produced during the Second Temple period that did not become part of the biblical canon. This has led to a renewed appreciation of these extrabiblical documents as valuable tools for uncovering how biblical texts may have been interpreted within the Jewish milieu in which Christianity emerged.

The aim of this article is to demonstrate the value of engaging with extrabiblical Jewish literature from the turn of the era to study the presence of the OT in the NT through a practical example: Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem (Mk 11:1-11). Although this tradition is found in all four Gospels, I will focus on Mark’s version for two reasons. Firstly, there is broad scholarly consensus that Mark’s account is the earliest and least theologized among the four. Secondly, this passage is widely recognized by scholars as containing a clear presence of the OT. In addition to the quotation from Psalm 118 (Mk 11:9-10), commentators identify allusions to Jacob’s blessing of Judah in Genesis and several references to the book of Zechariah.

Through this study, I aim to exemplify how the Jewish exegetical tradition of the turn of the era illuminates both the interrelationship between biblical references and the ways in which they are interpreted, thereby expanding and enriching the meaning of the Gospel passage. To this end, I will analyze the text of Mark, making explicit the OT references that have been widely acknowledged by commentators, and explore how these references might be interpreted in light of extrabiblical Jewish literature. Finally, I will propose an integrated reading that connects and contextualizes the multiple OT references present in this scene.

2. Mk 11:1-11

This scene culminates the section set on the journey towards Jerusalem and introduces the final chapters of the Gospel, in which this city will play a fundamental role as the setting for the resolution of the evangelical narrative. The inclusion of two geographical references, Jerusalem and Bethany, determines the beginning and end of the scene (Mk 1:1.11). While Bethany will be the place of welcome and anointing (cf. Mk 14:3), Jerusalem represents the sphere of conflict and death. The antagonism between these two cities is evident in the literary structure of the verse that concludes the pericope, as after entering Jerusalem, Jesus departs for Bethany (Mk 11:11: εἰσέρχομαι εἰς Ἱεροσόλυμα εἰς τὸ ἱερὸν – ἐξέρχομαι εἰς Βηθανίαν). The identification of Jerusalem with the Temple, which characterizes the second Gospel, is manifested in the apposition of this verse and reinforces the connections between the scene and the Passion narrative.

The parallelism between the descriptions of the preparations for the Last Supper and for the entry into the capital (Mk 11:1-7a; 14:13-16) is further reinforced by the fact that the accusations leading Jesus to the Cross are related to the Temple (Mk 14:58; 15:29). Jerusalem was not only the destination of Jesus and his disciples’ journey (cf. Mk 10:32-33) but, in some sense, represents the ultimate goal of the path announced at the prologue of Mark’s Gospel (cf. Mk 1:2-3) (Watts 1997, pp. 134–36). This makes it even clearer that the entire evangelical narrative naturally leads towards the Passion.

The transition from the section unfolding along the journey (Mk 8:27–10:52) to these chapters focused on Jerusalem occurs smoothly. Lexical connections facilitate this transition and link the scene with the preceding healing. A clearly defined geographical location (Mk 10:46: Ἰεριχώ; Mk 11:1: Ἱεροσόλυμα – Βηθφαγή – Βηθανίαν – τὸ ὄρος τῶν ἐλαιῶν), the relationship between Jesus and David (Mk 10:47-48: υἱὲ Δαυὶδ [x2]; Mk 11:10: τοῦ πατρὸς ἡμῶν Δαυίδ), the reference to the road (Mk 10:46.52; 11,8: ὁδός [x3]), the mention of the cloak (Mk 10:50; 11:8: ἱμάτιον) and the use of the verb “to follow” (Mk 10:52; 11:9: ἀκολουθέω) all closely connect the healing of the blind man Bartimaeus with Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem.

While the question of the historicity of the narrated event has generated extensive scholarly debate1, there is no doubt about the strong biblical resonances permeating this account, which is present in all four Gospels. The scene is composed of two clearly differentiated parts. The first focuses on the preparations for entering the city (Mk 11:1-7a), while the second describes the processional entry culminating in the Temple (Mk 11:7b-11). This same division will guide this discussion of the presence of the Old Testament in these verses.

2.1. The Preparation for the Entry (Mk 11:1-7a)

The number of verses Mark dedicates to the preparations for the entry into the capital already reveals their significance in the narrative. The evangelist’s economy of words, avoiding any superfluous information that does not contribute to his theological and narrative strategy, suggests that the detailed description of how the appropriate mount for the Master is obtained is not trivial. Rather, it provides interpretative keys necessary for understanding the second part of the pericope correctly.

2.1.1. Geographical Locations

The scene begins with the verb “to approach”, which the evangelist employs not only in this verse (Mk 11:1: ἐγγίζω), but also in connection with the Kingdom (Mk 1:15) and with the one who will betray Jesus in Gethsemane (Mk 14:42). Thus, the significance of this word becomes evident, as it introduces the healing and salvific proclamation in Galilee, the conflict-laden presence in Jerusalem, and the culmination of Jesus Christ’s revelation in his Passion.

Two aspects of the first verse of the scene stand out. Firstly, the concentration of place names, and secondly, the sequence in which they appear, which follows the reverse order of the itinerary that a pilgrim would typically take from Jericho. This anomaly may be intended to focus the reader’s attention on Jerusalem as the central setting of the upcoming chapters, as it is mentioned first.

The use of proper names appears to have symbolic significance (A. Y. Collins 2007, pp. 512–17; Gasparro 2012, pp. 265–67). Bethphage is mentioned only in this text and its Synoptic parallels. The etymological meaning of Bethphage, “house of figs”, connects the pericope with the cursing of the fig tree for bearing no fruit, a scene that frames Jesus’ prophetic action in the Temple (Mk 11:12-14.20-25). Meanwhile, Bethany could be translated as “house of the afflicted”. In this same symbolic framework, the reference to the Mount of Olives may also be interpreted (Malbon 1986, pp. 30–34). Mark mentions it not only in this prelude to the mission in Jerusalem but also at the beginning of the long discourse in chapter thirteen and again as the setting for the Gospel’s culmination after the Last Supper (Mk 11:1; 13:3; 14:26: τὸ ὄρος τῶν ἐλαιῶν).

Most commentators identify in this mention of the Mount of Olives a reference to Zech 14:4, where this location is twice named as the setting for YHWH’s triumphant entry following the eschatological battle2. This glorious intervention narrated by Zechariah contrasts with two other Old Testament instances where the Mount of Olives is mentioned indirectly in a context of departure. David passed through it weeping as he fled from Jerusalem (2Sam 15:30) and it is the place where the glory of YHWH pauses when departing from the Temple (Ezk 11:23). The Divine Presence in the Sanctuary and the presence of the preeminent monarch in the capital are not unrelated themes.

2.1.2. The Colt

There is a literary parallel between the preparations for entering the city and those for the Last Supper (Mk 14:12-16). The sending of two disciples to a town or village, the detailed description of what will happen, and its exact fulfilment of the prediction appear to be elements of a narrative formula that recurs not only in the second Gospel but also aligns with a prediction-fulfilment pattern already present in the Old Testament (cf. 1Sam 10:2-10; 1Kgs 17:8-16). Jesus’ disposition reflects his authority, which is reinforced by the act of sending (Mk 11:1: ἀποστέλλω).

The insistent repetition of the term colt serves a dual function in the narrative (Mk 11:2.4.5.7: πῶλος). On the one hand, it focuses the reader’s attention on the animal, and on the other, it alludes to two Old Testament texts using the same term, which scholars identify as underlying the scene (Gen 49:11; Zech 9:9: πῶλος [x3]). Another probable allusion to the verse in Zechariah is the mention that no one had yet sat upon the donkey (Mk 11:2), as the Greek version of the prophetic text includes the adjective new, absent from the Masoretic Text, to qualify the animal being ridden (Zech 9:9: ἐπιβεβηκὼς ἐπὶ ὑποζύγιον καὶ πῶλον νέον). Scholars’ interpretations of this detail, which also appears in the Third Gospel (Lk 19:30), diverge into two fundamental lines of interpretation, which, as is often the case, are not mutually exclusive.

The first approach considers the reference to be an allusion to the cultic dedication of this donkey. Proponents of this view argue that the fact that the animal had not been used for domestic purposes aligns with the requirements imposed in the Old Testament for animals designated for sacred purposes, as seen in the stipulation that cows “must not have been yoked” (cf. Nm 19:2; Dt 21:3; 1Sam 6:7). The quasi-sacred nature of kingship due to its connection with YHWH (Collins and Collins 2008, pp. 1–47) makes the second interpretative option proposed by scholars not entirely different from the first, as it considers the scene to present Jesus with the honor befitting a king (Tatum 1998, pp. 131–33). The supporting arguments include the role of the mule that Solomon rides during his royal consecration (1Kgs 1:32-40), along with the prohibition recorded in the Mishnah3. Indeed, some scholars have interpreted the passage as an application of the royal right of ἀγγαρεία4.

The response the disciples are to give to those who question them is ambiguous, as the term Lord or master, which in its original Greek could also mean owner, may refer either to Jesus or to God himself (Mk 11:3: ὁ κύριος αὐτοῦ χρείαν ἔχει). The parallel with Mk 14:14, where Jesus refers to himself as Teacher (Mk 14:14: ὁ διδάσκαλος), and the clarification that the animal will be returned immediately suggest that the Lord, understood as the owner, could be Jesus. If the colt alludes, as most scholars maintain, to both Gen 49:11 and Zech 9:9, the fact that the Galilean is its owner may carry implicit messianic connotations.

The colt being tied reinforces the allusion to Jacob’s blessing to Judah (Krause 1997):

The scepter shall not pass from Judah, nor the ruler-s staff from between his feet, until tribute be brought him and the peoples render him obedience. He tethers his donkey (τὸν πῶλον) to the vine, to its stock the foal of his she-donkey (τὸν πῶλον). He washes his clothes in wine, his robes in the blood of the grape. His eyes are darkened with wine and his teeth are white with milk.

(Gen 49:10-12)

Without engaging in a diachronic study of this passage from Genesis, it points to the dynastic promise made to David5. It is complex to determine when this monarchical reference began to be understood in a messianic sense (Pérez Gondar 2017), a reading favored in the LXX, without necessarily implying that this version intends such an interpretation (Lust 2004, pp. 144–47; J. J. Collins 2006, pp. 135–41), but which is explicit in Targum Neofiti (McNamara 1992):

A ruler shall not fail from Juda, nor a prince from his loins, until there come the things stored up for him; and he is the expectation of nations.

(LXX Gen 49:10)

Kings shall not cease from among those of the house of Judah and neither (shall) scribes teaching the Law from his sons’ sons until the time King Messiah shall come, to whom the kingship belongs; to him shall all the kingdoms be subject. How beautiful is loins and goes forth to battle against those that hate him; and he kills kings with rulers, and makes the mountains red from the blood of their slain and makes the valleys white from the fat of their warriors. His garments are rolled in blood; he is like a presser of grapes. How beautiful are the eyes of King Messiah; more than pure wine, lest he see with them the revealing of nakedness or the shedding of innocent blood. His teeth are purer than milk, lest he eat with them things that are stolen or robbed. The mountains will become red from his vines and the vats from wine; and the hills will become white from the abundance of grain and flocks of sheep.

(TgGen 49:10-12)

More relevant to this study, given its ancient dating, is the messianic interpretation of this Genesis passage found in the Dead Sea Scrolls (Xeravits 2003, pp. 59–63; Niccum 2006):

The scepter shall [no]t depart from the tribe of Judah. While Israel has the dominion, there [will not] be cut off someone who sits on the throne of David. For “the staff” is the covenant of royalty, [and the thou]sands of Israel are “the standards”. Blank Until the messiah of righteousness comes, the branch of David. For to him and to his descendants has been given the covenant of the kingship of his people for everlasting generations, which he observed […] the Law with the men of the Community, of […] it is the assembly of the men of […] (4Q252,V 1-6).

(García Martínez and Tigchelaar 1997, p. 505)

The interpretation of this Qumran text plays on the identification between the sceptre and the sovereign who holds it, as well as on the possibility of translating the same Hebrew term as either sceptre or tribe (Gen 49:10: שבט). Thus, what is promised is a ruler from the tribe of Judah who will uphold the Davidic dynasty, a king with messianic characteristics who will ensure the continuity of the “covenant of the kingship”.

The close connection between the royal imagery of this passage and messianic expectations makes it plausible to consider that the same association is present in the Marcan scene, which would explain the textual importance the evangelist attributes to the preparations for entering Jerusalem.

2.2. The Entry Procession (Mk 11:7b-11)

The laconic statement that the colt is brought before the Teacher (Mk 11:7a) confirms the completion of the preparations and marks the transition to the second part of the scene. In this section, the focus shifts from acquiring the animal to the gestures and words that accompany Jesus’ entry into the capital.

2.2.1. The Gestures

These verses appear to reproduce a recurring literary pattern used to narrate a triumphal entry, either into a city subjugated by a victorious lord or of by a warrior king returning in triumph to his homeland after having won a battle (Catchpole 1984, pp. 319–21; Duff 1992, pp. 58–64; Hatina 2002, pp. 313–15). Both biblical and Greco–Roman testimonies offer a scheme with shared elements, among which the prior victory as a prerequisite for entry and its culmination in the Temple with a definitive action stand out. This context renders Jesus’ gesture in Mark—where he merely looks around and then leaves (Mk 11:11)—disrupt the expectations derived from this literary scheme and reinforce the Gospel’s ironic character.

While Mark does not explicitly cite Zech 9:9, as Matthew and John do (cf. Mt 21:5; Jn 12:15), there is a general scholarly consensus that this scene represents the prophetic text. The verse in Zechariah, in turn, evokes Solomon’s coronation as king (1 Kgs 1:38–44), so that the entry of the one hailed as “Son of David” (Mk 10:47–48) appears to stage the enthronement of a king6. This royal resonance coheres with the fact that Jesus does not simply mount the animal but rather sits upon it (Mk 11:7: καθίζω; Zech 9:9: ἐπιβαίνω).

Alongside garments, the procession also lays something else on the ground which is described by Mark through a hapax (Mk 11:8: στιβάς). The qualifier cut off (Mk 11:8: κόψαντες), the parallel in Matthew (Mt 21:8: ἄλλοι δὲ ἔκοπτον κλάδους ἀπὸ τῶν δένδρων) and the verbo to tread (στείβω), from which the term seems to derive¸ lead us to interpret this as branches or foliage. This detail, the allusion to the Mount of Olives referencing a passage from the prophet Zechariah situated within the Feast of Booths and the recourse of the crowd to a psalm, Psalm 118, which was recited on that feast has led some authors to conclude that this feast would be the liturgical setting of the pericope (Sanders 1987, pp. 180–81; Muddiman 2009).

2.2.2. The Words

Markan irony permeates the acclamations of those accompanying Jesus. Although the content of their proclamations aligns with the truth concerning the Teacher, the political expectations they may harbor and their manner of expression are not consonant with Him. The cries of the multitude include a citation of Ps 118:25–26. This Old Testament reference does not remain immune from the broader web of biblical resonances pervading the scene; rather, it lends it specific tones and nuances. First, we encounter the earliest attestation of the term hosanna (Fitzmyer 1987). What originally constituted a plea for help directed at YHWH in Ps 118:25 gradually evolved into an expression of rejoicing, potentially acquiring eschatological and/or messianic connotations. As regards the interpretation of hosanna within the scene—flanked by two blessings in chiastic structure—exegetes remain divided.

Consistent with the royal imagery present throughout, it is noteworthy that the salvific plea underlying hosanna was also a conventional mode of address to the king in requests for justice (Ps 118:25: σῶσον). Such is the case with women addressing the monarch or Ahaz’s appeal to the king of Assyria (2Sam 14:4; 2Kgs 6:26; 16:7: σῶσον [x4]). The royal hues of the Markan pericope are further accentuated by this acclamation taking place precisely at the gates of the city—a traditional locus of justice.

The eschatological charge ascribed to hosanna by certain scholars is linked to a probable analogous reading of the entirety of Ps 118. The psalm’s structure evidences its unmistakable liturgical usage, while its content reflects individual thanksgiving after being delivered from danger, portrayed in military imagery. Thus, both the structure and content of the psalm reflect the two dominant scholarly perspectives regarding its Sitz im Leben. Some posit that it originates in the autumnal agricultural festival celebrating the harvest, whereas others argue that its royal background suggests a possible representation of YHWH’s enthronement (Brunson 2003, pp. 22–44).

This synthesis between the agricultural and the royal is also evident in the way the text has been situated within the Psalter as a whole, having been integrated into the liturgical composition of the Paschal Hallel (Sal 113–118) (Miller 1998, p. 104; Zenger 1998, p. 92). The development of eschatological features within this rural festival, as well as in the understanding of kingship itself, mirrors the evolving interpretation of the entire Psalter. Over time, it underwent a complex transformation—from being linked to the historical figure of David to being interpreted increasingly as eschatological and prophetic in nature (Gillingham 2002).

The conception of the psalms as texts awaiting fulfilment derives from the understanding of David as a prophet. The Qumran manuscripts provide two critical indications of this interpretive model (Miura 2007, pp. 69–88). The first concerns the presence of the exegetical technique pesher applied to the psalms—this method being otherwise reserved in Qumran exclusively for prophetic books, with the Psalter as a notable exception. This implies both the authoritative status of these texts within the Dead Sea community and an expectation of their fulfilment (García Martínez 1986, pp. 102–7). The second clue is that, as Davidic compositions, the psalms are deemed products of the monarch’s prophetic spirit (cf. 11Q5 XXVII: 2-11).

Returning to the citation of the psalm, most scholars agree on the plausibility that Ps 118 was interpreted eschatologically prior to Christianity7. This assumption is confirmed by a survey of Qumran manuscripts that reference fragments of this text (Brunson 2003, pp. 86–88). Given this, it is unsurprising that an interpretation along these lines—particularly in light of the psalm’s royal background—would also acquire messianic traits.

3. Independent or Interrelated Biblical References?

In the preceding section, I examined how the Old Testament appears in Mk 11:1-11 and the manner in which these references might have been interpreted in Judaism at the turn of the era. The question I now wish to address is whether this array of Old Testament references in Mark’s passage are interrelated. My aim is to demonstrate that these are not merely a random accumulation of citations, but rather, exhibit an internal logic that not only connects them but also yields a result greater than the sum of its parts. This interrelation, in a certain sense, exemplifies the Jewish hermeneutical principle introduced earlier, which draws conclusions from the recognition of the profound unity of the Word.

My analysis of the Markan passage revealed certain links between the allusions to Gen 49 and Zech 9:9. Both references mention a donkey and share royal overtones. The Davidic interpretation of the Genesis blessing, with its eschatological potential, and the messianic or even divine traits of the Zechariah passage (Goswell 2016) not only connect these texts but also align coherently with the citation of Ps 118:25–26. As we have seen, this psalm likewise bears unmistakable royal resonances and was probably understood eschatologically at the turn of the era. Although none of this is novel, it reinforces the prevailing interpretation of this New Testament passage, which is typically read through a Davidic-monarchical and messianic lens.

The literary pattern of the returning victorious warrior-king finds a parallel in the depiction of YHWH as divine warrior—a motif that likely originates in the mythology of the Ancient Near East (Miller 1973, pp. 8–63). This portrayal of God as a warrior not only permeates the Old Testament (Miller 1973; Longman and Reid 1995; Ryan 2020), as widely acknowledged, but also leaves traces across various parts of the New Testament. In simplified form, this complex literary pattern presents the deity as leading a battle on behalf of the faithful and against their enemies as sovereign over the cosmos. Following the evident victory, a period of reign, temple reconstruction, and celebration ensues (Longman and Reid 1995, pp. 83–88). This scheme, rooted in the Ancient Near East, gradually takes on eschatological features of a final battle8.

Some scholars have identified this literary pattern in the Markan passage under examination (Longman and Reid 1995, pp. 121–24); however, in my view, this imagery cannot be dissociated from the references to the prophet Zechariah that proliferate in the final chapters of this Gospel (Harriman 2016). This divine warrior imagery is clearly present in Zechariah 14 (Miller 1973, pp. 140–41). Beyond the reference to the Mount of Olives (Mk 11:1) and its echo in Zech 14:4, this chapter has not been overtly considered in my examination of the Old Testament’s presence in the Gospel passage. Nonetheless, I contend that it possesses the potential to integrate and reinterpret all the biblical references within the pericope.

Although currently debated, the classical position has been to consider Zech 9–14 as separate from the preceding chapters of the prophetic book and closely interconnected with one another (Meyers and Meyers 1993, pp. 32–35; Boda 2016, pp. 516–23). While Zech 9:9 introduces a figure with royal traits arriving in Jerusalem, chapter 14 depicts a warrior God engaged in an eschatological battle, in which the Mount of Olives is mentioned twice (Zech 14:4 [x2]). After the battle, YHWH returns victorious to His Temple for a final reign characterized by universality and the purification of a Sanctuary in which everything shall be holy (Zech 14:20-21). The festive setting of this victory is none other than the Feast of Booths or Sukkot (Zech 14:16-19) (Vicent 1995, pp. 81–84; Ulfgard 1998, pp. 146–51; Weyde 2004, pp. 210–36).

I have already mentioned that the gestures accompanying Jesus’ procession towards Jerusalem have led some scholars to propose Sukkot as the narrative background. This issue gains renewed significance if we broaden our perspective, not only focusing on this gesture but linking it with other elements present in the Gospel passage, thus gathering and coherently integrating the various Old Testament references we have identified. The royal resonances of the allusions to Gen 49, Zech 9:9, and the citation of Ps 118 are readily connected to chapter 14 of Zechariah, where the victorious God is presented as king over all the earth (Zech 14:9). It is worth recalling, furthermore, that Ps 118 appears to have played a significant role in the Feast of Booths (Weyde 2004, pp. 186–87).

Although it remains debated whether Sukkot had eschatological connotations prior to those presented in the Zecharian text9, there is a degree of scholarly consensus that it bore a meaning of restoration. This, for instance, explains the connection between the Feast of Dedication or Ḥanukkah and Sukkot (Vicent 1995, pp. 100–4), and it would also shed light on the link perceived by some scholars between the entry of the Maccabees into the Jerusalem Sanctuary and Mk 11:1-11 (Gombis 2018).

The question of the Temple is a crucial aspect of Sukkot, since this feast pointed towards a renewed dedication of the altar, especially after periods of devastation or neglect (Ulfgard 1998, pp. 196–202). This is consistent with the important role the Jerusalem Temple plays in the Gospel of Mark as a whole, and particularly in its final chapters (Biguzzi 1987; Heil 1997; Gray 2008; Angulo Ordorika 2019, pp. 256–74). If the entry into the city culminates in entering the Sanctuary and looking around (Mk 11:11), the following day is marked by a purificatory act within it (Mk 11:15-29), bearing universalist tones in light of the citation from Isa 56:7 employed by the evangelist (cf. Mk 11:17). In this way, the Old Testament references found throughout the passage we have studied, and the increasing significance they acquired over time, are naturally interrelated within the framework of eschatological victory contextualized in Sukkot, as presented in Zech 14.

From what has been stated thus far, this Gospel scene anticipates the emphatic affirmation of the Nazarene’s royal identity that will emerge in His interrogation before Pilate (Mk 15:2). The monarchical imagery abounds in these verses, which portray the Galilean in Davidic, and thereby messianic, hues. Mark’s irony is once again made evident in the fact that Jesus’ royal status is only explicitly acknowledged within the Passion narrative (Mk 15:2.9.12.18.32), and that this very identity becomes the charge for His execution (Mk 15:26).

The gesture of Temple renewal, which culminates the victorious procession of the warrior God and is associated with the feast of Sukkot, is not limited to the prophetic act Jesus will carry out the following day (Mk 11:15-29). Indeed, the entire Passion narrative may be understood as a paradoxical fulfilment of the false accusations that lead Him to the Cross (Mk 14:58; 15:29). Jesus Christ Himself becomes that Temple “not made by human hands” wherein the definitive encounter between God and humanity takes place, as symbolized by the tearing of the veil of the Jerusalem Sanctuary (Mk 15:38) (Rosik 2004).

Turning to Jewish exegetical tradition enables us both to perceive the manner in which biblical texts are interpreted and to recognize the interweaving of these texts. We have seen how the various Old Testament references do not conflict but rather are closely related and achieve harmony within the scene through the shared royal and eschatological imagery, which, as we have observed, recreates the triumphant procession of YHWH over Jerusalem in the context of the Sukkot festival. Nevertheless, the expectations of a definitive victory accomplished by an eschatological warrior—descended from David and acting decisively in Jerusalem to purify the Temple—are thwarted by Jesus’ return to Bethany. He who is called Son of David (cf. Mk 10:47-48) once again acts contrary to expectation.

4. Conclusions

As stated at the outset of this article, my intention has been to demonstrate—through a pericope from Mark—the usefulness of turning to intertestamental literature in deepening our understanding of the Old Testament’s presence in the New. In doing so, I aimed to show how becoming familiar with Jewish exegetical tradition not only broadens and enriches the interpretation of New Testament passages but also offers insight into how various scriptural references might be interlinked.

It has thus been shown that, although only a single citation appears in Mk 11:1–11, the multiple Old Testament allusions throughout the passage are readily connected within the interpretive mindset of Judaism at the turn of the era. Although this may not seem to constitute an absolutely novel interpretation of this Gospel text, I have illustrated the likely eschatological nuance being ascribed to royal references at the time, the interpretive keys offered by the Sukkot festival as described in Zech 14, and how these serve to reinforce the central role of the Temple in the passage as the threshold of the Passion narrative.

The interrelations and connections discovered among the Old Testament references discernible in the New Testament result in a confluence that exceeds the mere sum of its parts. The interpretive unity I have proposed around Zech 14 not only reinforces the eschatological character of the text but also the ironic tone that typifies the Gospel of Mark. The climax of the victorious procession subverts political and religious expectations, postponing the Temple’s renewal to the Passion in a paradoxical and disconcerting manner. Thus, the eschatological victory envisioned in Zech 14 does not contradict the meek king suggested by the allusion to Zech 9:9.

The recourse to extrabiblical literature in studying how the New Testament re-reads Scripture may not seem to entail a radical shift in our understanding of the New Testament texts, but it does enrich and lend coherence to the ensemble of Old Testament references by linking diverse texts through the resonances they were acquiring. This evidences the Jewish interpretive principle which perceives the Word as a unified whole. This paper thereby confirms the value of delving into Second Temple Judaism and the indispensable role of apocryphal literature in New Testament interpretation.