Chapters 15-16 - Mistaken Identity?

It’s hard to keep track of who’s who in these chapters. All of the identifications feel a little off. One “son of the father” (the literal meaning of ‘Barabbas’) is set free, while the Son of the Father is executed. The logical candidate to carry Jesus’ cross is Simon Peter, the disciple highlighted above all in Mark’s Gospel; but with Simon Peter nowhere to be found, Simon of Cyrene is compelled instead. Jesus cries out for God (‘Eloi, eloi’ in Aramaic) on the cross, but the crowd thinks he’s calling for Elijah instead. We hear nothing about Jesus’ mother Mary in Mark’s version of the Passion, but Mary the mother of James and Joses is mentioned repeatedly. As for the young man mentioned in 16:5, the last time we heard about a “young man” was in 14:52. Has our naked man found himself a white robe? Probably not, but if the “young man” in the tomb is an angel, why not just call him that like the other Gospel writers do?

And then there’s the repeated title given to Jesus in chapter 15 – “the King of the Jews”. No one in Mark has called him that so far, yet this is the title given to him on the cross. Somehow the charge against Jesus has switched from blasphemy to sedition. This makes some sense. Pilate wouldn’t care about interreligious squabbles; the title “Messiah” means nothing to him. Treason, however, he understands. Whether or not he truly believes Jesus to be a threat to Caesar, he signs off on the death warrant anyway and lets the charge stand.

One could say that the only character in Mark’s Passion who identifies Jesus correctly is the centurion. “Now when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, ‘Truly this man was God’s son!” (15:39). What exactly does he see that convinces him? My favorite New Testament professor at seminary, Don Juel, thought that the centurion was being sarcastic.* That may seem a bit jaded, but the point is fair. If only the demons have gotten it right so far, what makes us think that the centurion is sincere? What has he seen? A man with no defenders and no defense is executed as a traitor alongside thieves; he cries loudly and dies quickly. Crucifixions typically took longer; they lasted days, rather than hours. Jesus calls out to God and dies shortly thereafter. Is that it? The centurion doesn’t know that the curtain of the temple has torn from top to bottom. Golgotha is far from the temple, outside the city walls. At least in Mark’s Gospel, the only truly strange thing that happens is that darkness falls at noon over the whole land. Who knows what he saw? Maybe you had to be there.

The women were there. Unlike the “official” disciples, they do not desert Jesus and flee at his arrest. They save their fleeing for the tomb. The earliest and most reliable manuscripts of Mark’s Gospel end at 16:8: “So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”  Either the original ending was lost, or this is really how Mark meant to end it. Verses 9-20, frankly, don’t sound like Mark. We know his style by now. Given how the other characters have reacted to Jesus throughout the Gospel, it’s not implausible that the women react fearfully here.

In Mark 1:1, we were promised we’d hear “the good news of Jesus, the Son of God.”  So where is it? No one sees the risen Christ in Mark. We don’t see him, but we’re told where to look: “he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you” (16:7). To paraphrase T.S. Eliot in “East Coker”, in our end is our beginning.

                                                                                                                                                                                   

* See Juel, Donald H. The Gospel of Mark. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1999, p. 146.

Chapters 13-14 - Wake Up

Maybe they’re following his advice for once. In chapter 13, Jesus tells his disciples what’s going to happen to them if they continue to follow him. They’ll be handed over to councils, beaten, and brought to trial. Brother will betray brother. This is exactly what happens to Jesus in the next chapter. If the authorities have already come for Jesus, how much longer before they come for his friends? Maybe the disciples took the “little apocalypse” of Mark 13 seriously and fled as he directed them (13:14). He tells them flat out that they will all become deserters (14:27). They deny it, of course, but within moments of his arrest we’re told that “all of them deserted him and fled” (14:50).

Chapter 13 is puzzling for many of us, separated as we are from the original hearers by an ocean, a culture, and a language – not to mention by two millennia. Yet the wording here is pretty common for apocalyptic literature of its time. In this genre, the end is near and all is lost but for direct divine intervention. Our human efforts and good intentions won’t cut it; only God can make a difference now.

We’re not sure what “the desolating sacrilege” is that Jesus mentions in 13:14; Mark assumes that his audience knows, though. Perhaps it was too politically dangerous to say aloud. Whatever is to come (be it judgment or salvation or both), it’s foreshadowed by what happens to Jesus in the chapters ahead. Perhaps that’s part of why Jesus says that “this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place” (13:30). What will happen later in its fullness begins here.

Of course, the major piece of advice Jesus offers in these chapters is ignored completely. Twice he tells the disciples to “be alert” (13:23, 13:33). Four times he tells them to “keep awake” (13:35, 13:37; 14:34, 14:38). Yet three times in chapter 14, he goes to them in the Garden and finds them asleep. The only one who has managed to stay awake is Judas. We’re told that the chief priests and scribes know better than to arrest Jesus in the daylight, when the crowds might object; Judas arranges it so they can arrest him secretly.

Only the time for secrets is over. At the trial, the religious authorities ask Jesus point blank if he is the Messiah. His response, for once, is unequivocal: “I am” (14:62). Meanwhile, Peter hopes that he can keep up the secrecy a little while longer. He hides in the outer darkness of the courtyard and hopes that he can follow without cost. But the secret is out; he’s spotted and called out as a follower of Jesus not once or twice, but three times. Finally, the cock crows a second time, and all of Peter’s attempts at secrecy and self-delusion are exposed. He remembers Jesus’ words, breaks down and weeps.

Consider the group gathered for the Last Supper – betrayers, deniers, deserters all. Jesus knows this full well and gives them his body and blood anyway. In the words of hymn writer Isaac Watts, “love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.” 

Chapters 11-12 - Challenge Authority

In these chapters we see a stark contrast between the crowds’ reaction to Jesus and that of the religious authorities. Funny how quickly things change. The people greet Jesus as a king upon his entrance to Jerusalem, placing their cloaks and palm branches along his way. We’re told that they are spellbound by his teaching (11:18) and that they listen to him with delight (12:37). The chief priests, scribes and elders, however, challenge his authority at every turn. The Pharisees question him about paying taxes; the Sadducees go after him on the topic of resurrection.

To be fair, Jesus gives as good as he gets. He drives the money changers from the Temple. He questions the scribes’ interpretation of Scripture and then challenges them outright: “Beware of the scribes…who devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers” (12:40). It’s not accidental that the next story we read is that of “the widow’s mite.” Jesus watches a poor widow put two small copper coins in the temple treasury – “everything she had, all she had to live on” (12:44). While Jesus may well be commending her generosity (vs. those who give out of their abundance), he’s also commenting on a corrupt system that so devours widows’ houses that this is “all she had to live on”.

So whose authority is legitimate? Consider what Jesus uses his authority to do. He tries to restore the temple to its original purpose as a house of prayer. He calls the disciples to forgiveness. He reminds the leaders in whose image they were made. Coins are made in the image of the Emperor; people (yes, even those who challenge him) are made in the image of God.

Perhaps the most baffling moment in these chapters is Jesus’ cursing of the fig tree. What did the fig tree do to him? It wasn’t even the season for figs. Typically, when Mark inserts a story between two connected stories, the middle story provides a key to interpreting what falls on either side. In this case, Jesus might be comparing the fig tree to the temple itself. The temple had grown so corrupted that few, if any, were drawing nourishment from it. Soon the temple would fall altogether. While the cursing of the fig tree is a parabolic action (and hence, open to multiple interpretations), perhaps he’s drawing a contrast between his own hasty action and the patient response of the landowner to his tenants in the parable of the vineyard that starts chapter 12. The owner in the parable created all the necessary conditions for growth and then waited until the season came (12:2) before trying to collect his share of the vineyard’s proceeds. He sent multiple messengers before he finally sent his son.

It won’t be too much longer before the tenants kill the beloved son. In the meantime, however, all is not lost. One scribe manages to get it right. Perhaps there’s hope for the religious authorities after all. The scribe hears Jesus’ summary of the law (otherwise known as the great commandment – i.e. love God and love your neighbor as yourself) and agrees with him. Jesus’ response to this scribe: “You are not far from the kingdom of God” (12:34).

What do you think? What teaching here inspires you? What confuses you? Click on “comments” below and add your thoughts!

Chapters 9-10 – An Upside-Down Kingdom

Who doesn’t want to be great? Yet the disciples’ lingering concern over “who is the greatest” has perhaps never seemed so misplaced. James and John ask to sit at his right and left, not knowing that the roles will soon be filled at the cross by criminals on death row. The One that Peter, James and John have just seen “transfigured” repeatedly tells them where such greatness will lead. Twice in these chapters, Jesus tells them quite clearly what will happen to him. For his efforts, he will be betrayed, condemned, mocked, tortured and executed. And then he will rise again. (This last bit is so baffling – the words don’t seem to land anywhere. He says them, and no one responds – not even to ask for clarification.)  It is interesting that the voice from the cloud at the Transfiguration does not tell Jesus’ friends to believe what they see as they gaze upon him in his dazzling white robes with his celebrity companions; rather, they are to “listen to him.”

This will prove quite difficult. In these chapters, Jesus rejects any conventional definition of greatness. He lets a rich man walk away (even though we are explicitly told that Jesus loves him – a love that includes freedom to reject him, imagine that!) and holds up as examples children who cannot vote or donate or stump for him. He lifts up those who will never be able to repay him – whether it’s a tormented boy and his father or blind Bartimaeus. Has there ever been a more honest confession of faith than “I believe; help my unbelief” (9:24)? Yet Jesus does not turn this father away for his seeming equivocation. He does what the disciples cannot and makes the child well.

What kind of leader of a movement is this? He doesn’t seem threatened by others who do good in his name. He doesn’t demand unquestioning loyalty. He doesn’t find his authority in external validation or take comfort in the trappings of power. He says: “Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (10:43-45). What does it mean for us to follow such a King – particularly as we walk the way of the cross this Holy Week? 

Chapter 7-8 - Signs, Signs...

I might sigh deeply in my spirit too. Immediately after Jesus feeds 4000 people with seven loaves of bread and a few fish, the Pharisees ask him from a sign from heaven – as if everything he’s done in the last seven chapters isn’t enough. In his exasperation, he replies: “Truly I tell you, no sign will be given to this generation” (8:12). Is a sign only a sign if it’s understood?

It’s odd at times what Jesus tries to keep secret versus what he says quite openly. In these chapters, he insists on healing a deaf man in private and orders people to tell no one. He takes a blind man out of the village to heal him and tells him to avoid the village on the way home. He sternly orders the disciples not to tell anyone about him, even though he has just heard how confused the people are as to his identity.

Yet he says quite openly that the Son of Man “must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again” (8:31). We’re now at the halfway point of the story. Has Jesus always known this? Is that why he’s so bold about calling out the Pharisees and scribes on their hypocrisy? What’s the point of being subtle?

Even when he’s clear, the disciples still think he’s speaking in parable. “Listen to me, all of you, and understand: there is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile…for it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come” (7:15, 21). But how did those intentions get there in the first place? Better yet, what is to be done about them?

We’re given our first hints of an answer at the end of chapter 8: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it” (8:34-35). How do we go about losing our lives?

Chapters 5-6 - Eyes to See and Ears to Hear

How is it that we always seem to pay attention to the wrong things? Here in these chapters, Jesus demonstrates extraordinary compassion – first to the man living among the tombs who was “always howling and bruising himself with stones” (5:5). After Jesus heals him, the man begs Jesus to let him go with him. Yet for once, Jesus tells him to share his story instead. (Meanwhile, he raises a young girl from the dead and swears the family to silence!) By encouraging him to go back to his people, Jesus gives the man a purpose and restores him to his community. 

Soon after, we read about a woman “who endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse” (5:26). She was used to hiding and making herself invisible; yet Jesus insists on seeing her. He holds up her faith and, in addition to healing her, makes her visible to her own community again.

Later, at the feeding of the 5000, when all Jesus really wants is to be left alone to rest and pray, we’re told that he sees the crowds and that “he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd” (6:34). He sees their need and addresses it.

What more do the disciples need to see? Even after having some success on their own teaching and healing others, they still can’t see Jesus clearly. Mark tells us that “their hearts were hardened” (6:52).

If their hearts were still hard even after witnessing Jesus’ compassion firsthand, what hope is there for us? The people of Jesus’ hometown grew up with him. Yet they reject him because they think they know everything they need to know; they know his family. Talk about misplaced focus.

Perhaps the death of John the Baptist in chapter 6 best illustrates our focus on the trivial and the devastating effect of our selective sight. King Herod knows from his own experience that John is “a righteous and holy man” (6:20). Yet he allows palace intrigue to override his conscience and judgment. What kind of world do we live in when prophets end up on platters?

How do we respond? Writer Barry Hannah* offers these suggestions in a poem inspired by the Gospel of Mark:

Do not think so much.

Surrender. Believe.

Unprepared, move out to the world and testify.

The words will come. Serve.

From now on service is kingly.

There are no more kings.

Serve. Help. Love. Others as thyself.

This is impossible but do it.

You have seen enough…

*Introduction to The Gospel According to Mark. New York: Grove Press, 1999.

Chapters 3-4 - It's a Mystery

Even the Sower doesn’t understand exactly how the seeds grow. In these chapters, we find a little parable unique to Mark: “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself…” (4:36-27).

If Jesus has given the disciples the secret of the kingdom of God (4:11), apparently it’s still a secret to them as well. Holding the answer key seems to do them no good in the storm just verses later. We as readers are given the inside track along with the disciples. We’re given the “explanation” denied to the crowds about the different kinds of soil and are left to speculate who’s who – as if we can place people in neat categories. We can guess where the scribes and Pharisees might fall, but what about Jesus’ family? They suspect he’s out of his mind. As for the disciples themselves, we’re told from the outset that one of the Twelve will betray him. One would think that sheer proximity to Jesus would tell them everything they need to know.

Or maybe it’s not about knowledge. The unclean spirits recognize him as the Son of God, but I’m not sure that makes them good soil. We know the soil by what it produces. Jesus says here that “whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” Knowing and doing are two different things.

We might not know what kind of soil we’re dealing with or why some seeds grow and others don’t. But we do know something about the harvest. When a seed finally does take hold – as in the parable of the mustard seed – even the birds that once ate up the seeds on the path now have a place to make their nests in the shade. If there are boundaries to the kingdom of God, I’m not sure where we can draw them.

We don’t get many of Jesus’ teachings in the Gospel of Mark. With Mark, we get no Beatitudes, no Sermon on the Mount, no Good Samaritan, no Prodigal Son. For the most part, Jesus lets his actions speak. What do they say to you?

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