Category Archive: Bible – NT – Mark
Mark 1:16-20 Sermon Notes
FOUR FISHERMEN
Mark 1:16-20
(October 24, 2004 Sermon Notes)
Mark’s Gospel tells how the anointed one became king. Jesus is a new Joshua and a new David. Like them, Jesus doesn’t stay all by himself. He gathers followers to share in his work and in his victory.
THE POWER OF JESUS’ CALL
Mark doesn’t tell us whether Jesus had met Simon and Andrew before. We know from John 1:35ff. that he had. But Mark doesn’t want us to miss the impact of the summons here. This isn’t one old friend asking some other friends to travel with him. This is a king whose summons comes out of the blue and whose summons must be obeyed.
Simon and Andrew were fishermen. But when Jesus called them, they dropped their nets and followed. Following Jesus is more important than the day-to-day work of earning a living.
Then Jesus finds James and John. Their father, Zebedee, was likely well off. He had a boat and hired hands. His family may have been fishing the Sea of Galilee for generations. But when Jesus calls, James and John leave their vocation and their father to follow Jesus. Following Jesus is more important than family ties.
What happens here is similar to what happened when Elijah called Elisha (1 Kings 19:19-21). Elisha abandoned his family and his work and even destroyed his equipment to follow Elijah. So, too, Abraham left his father’s house to go where God led him (Gen. 12). The disciples are going to be like Abraham, a new Israel. And Jesus, filled with the Spirit, does what the Spirit does: He calls them from the water to follow, just as the Spirit called Jesus from the water first (1:9-11).
Jesus doesn’t call all of us to leave our jobs and families. This is a unique call for a unique task. These four will be the foundation of the church (2 x 2 witnesses). But Jesus does call all of us to put him first.
THE PROMISE IN JESUS’ CALL
If Jesus is like Elijah and the disciples are like Elisha, that’s a promise that like Elisha they will see their Master ascend, will receive the Spirit he had, and will do greater miracles.
Jesus promises to make these four fishermen into “fishers of men.” That image goes back to Jeremiah 16:16, where God speaks of fishermen bringing Israel back from exile, and to Ezekiel. 47, where Ezekiel sees living water flowing from the Temple and fishermen catching fish. The Temple is another Garden of Eden, from which four rivers flowed (Gen. 2:10-11).
But in the Old Covenant, the Temple water didn’t flow (1 Kings 7:38-39). Now, Jesus is promising, the rivers of life are going to flow again and these four men will be the fishermen catching many people, from the four corners of the earth, so that they share in God’s kingdom. That’s our calling, too, as the church built on these four fishermen.
Mark 1:14-15 Sermon Notes
PREACHING THE GOSPEL
Mark 1:14-15
(October 17, 2004 Sermon Notes)
Our creeds and catechism jump from Jesus’ birth to his death, without saying anything about his life. That might give us the impression that his life isn’t important. But Jesus didn’t spend his life waiting for the important stuff to start to happen. He was working throughout his life.
What was that work? We’re going to see it all through Mark’s Gospel. But we start to see it in the summary in Mark 1:14-15.
THE TIMING OF HIS MINISTRY (1:14a)
Jesus starts his ministry in Galilee “after John was put in prison.” Literally, it’s “after John was delivered over.” That’s the same phrase Mark uses later when he says that Jesus was “delivered over” (sometimes translated “betrayed”) to his enemies (3:19; 9:31; 10:33-34; 14:10, 11, 18, 21, 41, 42, 44; 15:1, 10, 15). John’s imprisonment foreshadows Jesus’ imprisonment.
God destroyed Pharaoh and saved Moses. God protected Elijah from Ahab. But God doesn’t save John, who is a new Moses and a new Elijah. Joshua conquered Canaan and Elisha died peacefully in his bed, but Jesus isn’t going to be protected as they were. He’ll conquer, but he’ll die first.
But Jesus doesn’t run away. Herod, the ruler of Galilee, arrested John and Jesus marches into Galilee, into Herod’s territory, to preach. And his work is more glorious than John’s.
John’s death isn’t the end. Something more glorious happens next. And Jesus’ death will lead to something more glorious: His resurrection and the spread of the kingdom. And though we, too, will be “delivered over” (Mark 13:9-12), the kingdom will keep advancing from glory to glory.
THE CONTENT OF HIS MESSAGE (1:14b-15)
Jesus and John both proclaim that God is becoming King as he promised. But unlike John, Jesus announces that “The time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand.” The time the prophets talked about it here and God’s kingdom is already present. In fact Jesus himself is the kingdom.
The presence of the kingdom demands a response: “Repent and believe the gospel.” This isn’t just ordinary daily repentance; Jesus is calling Israel to the great repentance which must happen before Israel can be restored (Deut. 30:1-3). The king is coming; therefore Israel must repent.
Repentance involves returning to loyalty to the true King. It involves dropping your own agenda and adopting God’s agenda. Jesus calls people not only to repent but to believe “the gospel,” that is, to believe the good news he is preaching. They have to adopt his view of the kingdom. They have to drop their old loyalties and follow him to inherit the kingdom.
And so do we.
Mark 1:12-13
JESUS IN THE WILDERNESS
Mark 1:12-13
(October 10, 2004, Sermon Notes)
All through the opening verses of Mark’s Gospel, our expectations have been growing. Jesus is Yahweh, Israel’s God, coming to rescue His people. He’s the new Joshua, the new Elisha, the new David. At His baptism, God anoints Him as king and acclaims Him as His son.
But in our text, instead of going immediately to Jerusalem to claim His throne, Jesus goes to the wilderness. That’s where the first battle has to be fought. And what happens there is a miniature pattern for the rest of Jesus’ ministry.
THE SPIRIT AND THE SATAN (1:12-13a)
Immediately after His baptism, the Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness. The word for “drives” is the same word used when Mark talks about Jesus “casting out” demons. The Spirit doesn’t just lead Jesus into the wilderness; He throws Him out of the land into the wilderness.
That’s what happened to Israel at the Exodus: Israel was cast out into the wilderness (Ex. 6:1; 11:1; 12:33, 39). In the wilderness, Israel was tested and Israel failed. Israel was an unfaithful son (see Hosea 11).
But now God has declared that Jesus is His Son. Jesus is the new Israel. The Spirit drives Him into the wilderness because He has a calling to carry out there. For forty days (representing Israel’s forty years in the wilderness), Jesus is in the wilderness being tempted by “the satan.”
“The satan” is a description, not a name. It means “the accuser.” The satan wanted to accuse Job and so he tempted him to curse God (Job 1-2). The satan wanted to accuse David and so he tempted him to number Israel and boast in his power (1 Chr. 21:1). And now the satan wants to accuse Jesus, too, and so he tempts him.
But Jesus doesn’t fall. The accuser’s charges don’t stick. Jesus wins the victory and because He did, the accuser’s charges against us don’t stick either. The accuser of the brothers has been cast down (Rev. 12:10).
THE ANIMALS AND THE ANGELS (1:13b-c)
Jesus is a new Israel. He’s also a new David. Samuel anoints David, but David doesn’t take the throne immediately. He’s cast out to be with the Gentiles (1 Sam. 26:19). He’s tempted to take the throne the wrong way. But he resists the temptation and God gives him dominion.
Mark hints that Jesus is like David. Only Mark says that Jesus was “with the wild beasts,” just as David was (1 Sam. 16:34-37). He won the victory over the beasts. And Jesus, too, rules over the wild beasts. They don’t hurt him. And what happens here hints at His future rule of the world.
As well, Mark says that “the angels ministered to Him.” Most likely, they fed Him (see 1:31), as angels fed Israel (Ps. 78:25). Jesus was faithful and God shows His approval. He will nourish us, too, until the full victory.
Mark 1:9-11 Sermon Notes
THE MESSIAH’S ORDINATION
Mark 1:9-11
(September 23, 2004, Sermon Notes)
Mark’s Gospel starts with this line: “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” In our text, Mark shows us the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry, and he structures what he says to reflect this first verse: He starts with Jesus (1:9), then shows His anointing by the Spirit (1:10: Christ means anointed), and then tells how the voice from heaven declared Jesus to be the Son of God (1:11).
JESUS (1:9)
Jesus doesn’t appear the way we might expect. There is no blaze of glory. In fact, he comes, like David, out of nowhere, from the hicktown of Nazareth in the province of Galilee.
He comes to John just like everyone else (see 1:5). Though we aren’t told that He confessed His own sins, Jesus was baptized with John’s baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. He joined Israel in repenting of Israel’s corporate sins. He goes through the same thing Israel does because He is the new Joshua who will lead Israel into the Land.
His baptism points forward to another baptism: His death (Mark 10:38). That baptism will lead to the conquest of the world.
CHRIST (1:10)
John is a new Moses preparing for Jesus, the new Joshua. John is also a new Elijah, preparing for Jesus, the new Elisha, who has a double portion of the Spirit.
Mark tells us that the heavens were torn apart (see Mark 15:38; Isa. 64:1) and the Spirit descended on Jesus. That’s what God promised to Israel (Ezek. 36:27), but it happens for Jesus only. Only Jesus receives the Spirit and only Jesus will baptize with the Spirit (Mark 1:8). The Spirit’s presence certifies Jesus as the Messiah (Isa. 11) and equips Him for work.
The Spirit comes “like a dove,” which indicates that Jesus is the beginning of God’s new creation (think of Noah’s dove in the light of Gen. 1:2 and Deut. 32:11). In Him, we also are new creatures (Gal. 6:15).
SON OF GOD (1:11)
John is also the new Samuel, anointing Jesus, the new David. David’s son would be God’s son (2 Sam. 7:14). The voice from heaven proclaims Jesus to be His Son, quoting Psalm 2. Jesus is the king who will inherit the world and rule all nations. He’s also the “beloved” son (like Isaac: Gen. 22), and the servant with whom God is well-pleased (Isa. 42:1).
At our baptisms and beyond, God says about us what He said here about Jesus. We also are sons of God (Gal. 3:26-4:7), sons whom God loves and in whom He delights. We are kings who follow our King, Jesus, in laying down our lives for others and thereby inheriting the world.
Water and Spirit (Mark 1:8)
In writing about Mark 1:8, commentators often present the contrast between “water” and “Spirit” as a constrast between picture and reality. John is saying that his baptism is just a bare sign, a symbol of something else. John’s baptism is not efficacious because it is only water, not Spirit. When John says, “I baptize with water but he will baptize with the Spirit,” John means something like this: “What I am doing is only a picture, but what he will do will be reality. My baptism doesn’t effect anything, but his baptism will.”
Often, this verse is then applied not merely to John’s baptism but to water baptism in general. Water baptism, people say, is merely a symbol. What really matters and what is really efficacious is Spirit baptism. The one is a picture of the other; Spirit baptism is the reality which water baptism pictures. “Spirit baptism” is then often identified with the “effectual call” or “regeneration” (i.e., the thing that causes us to respond to God in faith).
As I’ve studied this verse, however, it strikes me that John isn’t saying that his baptism is only a picture. Saying that his baptism is with water and not Spirit is not saying that it is ineffective. Rather, John is making a contrast between his work and Jesus’ work, between the Old Covenant and the New.
We find the same contrast in Hebrews 9, where the writer to the Hebrews compares the Old Covenant baptisms (which is the word he uses, though it’s often translated “washings”) with what we have now in Christ. The Old Covenant baptisms, Hebrews says, were effective for the cleansing of the flesh. That is, they cleansed people who were “flesh,” which was everyone’s condition in the Old Covenant. And they cleansed them sufficiently to enable them to draw near to God and even to enable priests to enter God’s presence to serve him.
But because of Christ’s death and resurrection there is an even greater washing. Now, having our bodies washed with pure water and our consciences cleansed (Heb. 10), we can draw near to God in a way no one in the Old Covenant could and with a boldness no one in the Old Covenant had.
John is saying something similar. His baptism is in line with all the other “baptisms” (Heb. 9) of the Old Covenant. It’s an Old Covenant washing. Still, it is effective for the purifying of the flesh so that God’s people can live with him and serve him.
But John’s baptism cannot and does not accomplish what Jesus would accomplish. John’s baptism does not do what the Spirit does. What we have in Christ, through baptism into him, is greater than what John and the rest of the Old Covenant could do. Jesus’ washing surpasses theirs.
The water-Spirit contrast, then, isn’t a contrast between picture and efficacious reality but between an efficacious Old Covenant reality and an efficacious and much more glorious New Covenant reality.
Mark 1:4-5
CROSSING THE JORDAN AGAIN
Mark 1:4-5
(September 6, 2004 Sermon Notes)
In Mark’s Gospel, John the Baptist seems to appear out of nowhere. Mark doesn’t give us the background Luke does. Instead, he simply presents John as the fulfillment of the prophecies quoted in 1:2-3. John is the messenger who prepares the Lord’s way.
JOHN’S BAPTISM (Mark 1:4)
It’s important to note that John’s baptism takes place in the wilderness. At the Exodus, Israel left Egypt and went into the wilderness. By calling people out to the wilderness, John is calling them to a new Exodus. But that implies that, through her sin, Israel herself has become a new Egypt from which God’s people need to be delivered.
John’s baptism is in line with other washings we find in the Old Covenant. People who touched corpses or who contracted leprosy had to be washed before they could return to the community and take part in the worship of God. To draw near to God, you had to pass through water.
John’s baptism takes place in the Jordan River. The Jordan was the boundary of the Promised Land. Paul says that the crossing of the Red Sea was a “baptism” (1 Cor. 10). So, too, the crossing of the Jordan was a baptism. Israel passed through the water in order to enter the Promised Land to serve God there.
By calling Israel out to the wilderness, John is enacting a new Exodus. By washing people in the Jordan, John is enacting a new entrance into the Promised Land. His baptism involves repentance, the recognition that Israel’s sin has separated her from God. His baptism is also preparation for a future forgiveness of sins, the great event of restoration which would come about through Jesus Christ.
ISRAEL’S RESPONSE (Mark 1:5)
Mark says that all the people in the land and the people of Jerusalem came out to John to be baptized. From the other Gospels, we learn that there were exceptions.
But Mark wants to stress how widespread the response to John’s preaching was. As John’s baptism foreshadows what Jesus would accomplish, so the response to John’s baptism foreshadows the success of Jesus’ mission: “All the ends of the world shall remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations shall worship before You. For the kingdom is the LORD’s, and He rules over the nations” (Ps. 22:27-28).
The Structure of Mark’s Gospel
In his lectures on “The Theology of the Gospel of Mark,” presented at the 1997 Biblical Horizons Conference. Jeff Meyers points out that there are exactly seven day-markers in the Gospel of Mark, and each section concludes with some kind of a reference to evening or morning. It may be possible, then, Meyers notes, to outline Mark in relation to the seven days of Genesis 1.
Day 1 (1:1-34): Water and Spirit
In Mark 1:32, we have evening. In Mark 1:35, we have morning. On this first “day” in Mark, we have the beginning of the Gospel (1:1). In Genesis 1:2, the Spirit hovers over the water and in Mark 1:10 the Spirit descends on Jesus as He comes up from the waters. We also have the wilderness (formlessness, emptiness, darkness; see Genesis 1:2). Jesus triumphs over the darkness of demonic activity and sickness.
Day 2 (1:35-4:34): The Firmament Separating Heaven and Earth
In Mark 4:35, we have evening. In Genesis, God distances Himself from creation by creating a firmament to separate heaven (where God lives) from earth. In Mark, Jesus goes off and people look for Him and can’t find Him. Jesus tells people to keep quiet about the things He’s done. He speaks about the secrets of the kingdom.
Day 3 (4:35-6:46): The Sea, Dry Land, and Plants
In Genesis, Day 3 starts with the separation of the waters and ends with the creation of plants. Day 3 in Mark starts with the sea about to overwhelm the disciples until Jesus calms the sea. There’s a lot of activity on the sea in this section. At the end of this section, Jesus feeds 5000 people, which may link to the creation of grain plants on the third day. In 6:46, we have evening again.
Day 4 (6:46-11:11): Light-Bearers Ruling in the Firmament
Day 4 is a long day in Mark’s Gospel, and that makes sense if Mark is about sonship and ruling. Jesus is establishing the light-bearers, His disciples, and is teaching them. In particular, He is teaching them how to rule (by service, not like the Gentile lords). In this section, too, we have the transfiguration and the healing of a blind man, both of which have to do with light. In 11:11, it’s late. The Greek word here is the word for evening.
Day 5 (11:12-19): Sea Animals and Birds
Day 5 in Mark’s Gospel is short. It’s about Jesus clearing the temple. The temple was designed to be a house of prayer for all the nations, and the nations (Gentiles) are often associated with the sea in the Bible. In 12:19, evening comes.
Day 6 (11:20-14:11): Man as Ruler/Mediator
Day 6 is another long section in Mark. It starts with Jesus praying. His authority is questioned, which has to do with Him as the true man who has dominion. In Mark 12, we have the parable of the garden and its keepers (think of Adam in the Garden). Jesus is anointed on this day.
Day 7 (14:12-15:41): Sabbath: The LORD Draw Near
In the evening (14:17) is the Last Supper. The disciples are self-seeking. Jesus alone draws near to sinners and gives Himself for them.
Day 8 (15:42-16:20): New Creation
The eighth day is the day of resurrection. It begins in 15:42 with another evening. Obviously there is a day or two in between, but in the text immediately after this seventh evening comes the morning on which Jesus rises again. The new creation thus begins on the eighth day in Mark’s Gospel.
This isn’t, of course, the only way that the Gospel can be outlined, but it may be one helpful way to read Mark.
The Gospel of Mark
I’m currently preaching on Mark’s Gospel, but I’m a bit behind in blogging all the stuff I’ve wanted to from my study in this Gospel. Here’s a first step toward catching up.
What are the best commentaries on Mark? Well, frankly, most evangelical commentaries say pretty much the same thing. I’ve found some helpful stuff in William Lane and some in R. T. France (especially the stuff that he footnotes and argues against; often it’s pretty good!).
But what stands out? As Jeff Meyers noted in one of his lectures at the recent Christ Church Ministerial Conference, the best commentaries are the postmodern ones. They’re the ones that treat the Gospel as a literary unit and pay attention to the literary features of the text.
I agree: There’s some very stimulating stuff in Jerry Camery-Hoggatt’s Irony in Mark’s Gospel and in John Paul Heil’s The Gospel of Mark as a Model for Action. Occasionally, Bas van Iersel’s Mark: A Reader-Response Commentary has been useful.
Austin Farrer’s A Study in Saint Mark is fascinating and indispensable, even if you end up disagreeing with him at several points (as I do). Jeff Meyers‘s lectures on the theology of Mark, given at the 1997 Biblical Horizons Conference are well worth listening to. Mark Horne‘s The Victory According to Mark draws on Farrer and Meyers significantly; it’s a must-have. Tom Wright’s little Mark for Everyone is sometimes helpful, but what you really must read is his Jesus and the Victory of God.
I have other commentaries and I do look through them, but these are the ones I’ve found most helpful so far.
Wright on the Gospel
The whole Christian gospel could be summed up in this point: that when the living God looks at us, at every baptized and believing Christian, he says to us what he said to Jesus on that day. He sees us, not as we are in ourselves, but as we are in Jesus Christ. It sometimes seems impossible, especially to people who have never had this kind of support from their earthly parents, but it’s true: God looks at us, and says, “You are my dear, dear child; I’m delighted with you.” Try reading that sentence slowly, with your own name at the start, and reflect quietly on God saying that to you, both at your baptism and every day since.
It is true for one simple but very profound reason: Jesus is the Messiah, and the Messiah represents his people. What is true of him is true of them. The word “Messiah” means “the anointed one”; and this story tells how Jesus was anointed with the Holy Spirit, marked out as God’s son. The Messiah is called “God’s son” in a few biblical passages, including the one that the heavenly voice seems to be echoing here (Psalm 2.7). Though the early Christians realized quite quickly that Jesus was God’s son in an even deeper sense, they clung on to his messiahship for dear life. It was because Jesus was and is Messiah that God said to them, as he does to us today, what he said to Jesus at his baptism. — N. T. Wright, Mark for Everyone, pp. 4-5.
Locusts & Wild Honey
Mark 1:4 says that “John was clothed with camel’s hair and with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey.” The description in Matthew 3:4 is almost identical. Clearly both Matthew and Mark believe that John’s dress and diet are important.
Given that God doesn’t waste words and that ancient writers in general had limited space on their scrolls and tended to make every word count, we ought to ask ourselves why Matthew and Mark both choose to describe John in this way. Luke, after all, doesn’t.
The answer cannot be that Matthew and Mark want their readers to be able to picture John better. Unlike modern storytellers, the biblical writers aren’t interested in description in itself. When they describe someone they do so because that description tells us something about that person. And so it must be with John.
But what does this description tell us? What is the significance of John’s diet and dress?
The answers won’t be found in our own speculation about what John’s diet and dress might mean (e.g., “John is protesting against the luxuries of the rich”) but rather must be drawn from the rest of biblical revelation. In particular, Mark and Matthew expect that we already know what we call the Old Testament.
And when we go back to the Old Testament, we find one phrase that rings a bell. In 2 Kings 1, King Ahaziah recognizes a man as Elijah because he is “a hairy man” and has “a leather belt around his waist.” The wording of the last phrase is almost identical to that in Mark 1. Apparently Elijah alone would be dressed that way and that outfit was enough to make Ahaziah certain that the man was Elijah. But that suggests that John is dressing in such a way as to identify himself with Elijah. In Mark 9, Jesus confirms that John is indeed the Elijah promised in Malachi 4.
So much for the leather belt. But what about the camel’s hair? Here I draw an almost complete blank. Certainly it makes John hairy (like Elijah). But why camel’s hair in particular?
And what about John’s diet? Locusts are clean animals and a faithful Israelite was allowed to eat them. But why did John eat them in particular and not other food?
Perhaps part of the answer is that in the Old Covenant locusts are usually the ones doing the eating. Locusts are sent as God’s judgment on Israel. In Joel, locusts are parallel to Gentiles: both invade the land and leave nothing green behind.
But John is in the wilderness eating locusts. Perhaps that suggests that through his ministry God’s curse on Israel will be taken away.
In fact, given that eating in the Bible is communion and that locusts and Gentiles are parallel, perhaps John’s diet suggests that through his ministry Gentiles will be included with Israel in the blessings of Exodus and Re-entrance, the blessings John is acting out by calling people to the wilderness and washing them in the Jordan (on John’s baptism, see Joel Garver‘s very helpful essay, “Baptism in Matthew and Mark“).
For that matter, note that in the wilderness, between the Exodus and the Entrance into the land, the Israelites were all Gentiles of a sort. The whole new generation was not circumcised until after Israel entered the promised land (Josh. 5). John’ ministry involves calling Israel to the wilderness again, where he is eating locusts. Perhaps that suggests that God is taking these “Gentile” Israelites, who have been exodused out of Israel-turned-Egypt, back into fellowship and communion with him.
What about the wild honey? Wild honey shows up in a few places in the Old Testament. Jonathan eats wild honey and regains his strength (1 Sam. 14). Samson eats wild honey that he finds in the carcass of the lion he killed (Judges 14). In that case, the honey was a sign that God would restore the land flowing with milk and honey to Israel through the destruction of the Philistine lion that had taken it from Israel. Perhaps John’s eating of wild honey suggests that through his ministry God would restore the blessings of the land to His people again. (My thanks to Jim Jordan for suggesting this interpretation.)
A closer connection might be made with Deuteronomy 32:13, where Moses sings about how Yahweh rescued Israel from Egypt and led him (and even carried him) through the wilderness. There in the wilderness, He also fed Israel: “He made him draw honey from the rock….” Furthermore, the manna tasted like honey (Ex. 16:31). Perhaps John’s eating honey fits with his general Exodus ministry as a sign of God’s provision for his people in the wilderness.
I’ve said “perhaps” a lot for a reason: I’m not sure if any of these suggestions are correct. I welcome your own suggestions.
Perhaps (again) it sounds as if I’m stretching, looking for meaning where there is none. But I do believe that the details are important and that John wore what he wore and ate what he ate — and that we’re told about it — for a reason. The details in Scripture do matter, even if we can’t fully figure them out.
One more suggestion of which I am more certain: John’s dress and diet, together with his location, mark him as a man of the wilderness, not a man of the Promised Land. John is wearing clothing associated with the wilderness (camel’s hair), eating food associated with the wilderness (not steak and honey from some farmer’s beehives but locusts and wild honey) and he is standing out in the wilderness.
I pointed out that John’s outfit reminds us of Elijah. But Elijah himself reminds us of Moses. Elijah is a new Moses and John is a new Elijah, which suggests that in some ways John is also a new Moses. And like Moses and Elijah, John’s ministry ends in the wilderness (symbolically, though not literally).
Moses didn’t enter the Promised Land. He died in the wilderness, after preparing Israel to enter. Elijah left the Promised Land and ascended in the same area Moses did, in the wilderness across the Jordan opposite Jericho. And John is in the wilderness and everything about him proclaims that he’s in the wilderness, all the way up to his death.
John’s location, diet, and dress all proclaim that John hasn’t entered the new creation, the new Promised Land, that God was going to bring about. John doesn’t share in the baptism of the Holy Spirit that his stronger follower is going to bring (Mark 1:8).
In fact, it seems to me that Mark mentions John’s dress and diet at the precise spot he does (Mark 1:6) because the dress and diet go hand in hand with John’s message in proclaiming that John isn’t going to be the one to bring about the fulfilment of God’s promises but that a stronger one is coming who will.
As Moses dies and his follower Joshua leads Israel into the inheritance God promised and as Elijah dies and Elisha then enters Israel to bring healing, John stays in the wilderness and even dies, preparing people for his successor Jesus who will bring God’s people into their full inheritance, the inheritance which includes the Spirit of glory and the New Covenant.
The location of John’s ministry, the clothes John wears, the food John eats are no accident, nor are they incidental and unimportant details. All of them identify John — together with the whole Old Covenant — as the weaker, preliminary one who stays out in the wilderness while the stronger follower brings Israel into the Promised Land.
Straightway
It’s well known that in Mark’s Gospel things happen “immediately.” The word appears repeatedly. Mark 1:10: “And immediately, coming up from the water, He saw…. Mark 1:12: “Immediately the Spirit drove Him into the wilderness.” Mark 1:18: “They immediately left their nets and followed.” Mark 1:20: “And immediately he called them….” And so forth. Jesus and His disciples act immediately.
The Greek word translated “immediately” here is eutheos (sorry: can’t do Greek font). That’s the adverbial form of euthus, which means “straight.”
And what I noticed tonight is the quotation in Mark 1:3. Mark is citing Isaiah: “The voice of one crying: In the wilderness prepare the way of YHWH; make his paths straight (euthus).”
YHWH’s paths are to be straight when he comes to his people, and then we find that Jesus, who is YHWH coming to his people, does everything straightway (to use an older expression). Interesting, no?
Narrative Space and Mythic Meaning in Mark
The other week, I read through Elizabeth Struthers Malbon’s Narrative Space and Mythic Meaning in Mark. On the whole, I found Malbon’s work much more helpful than either Smith‘s or Rhoads and Michie‘s.
Malbon’s treatment, however, seems to be valuable, not because of but rather in spite of the theory which undergirds it. Malbon is following in the footsteps of Claude Levi-Strauss, whose theory about myths is that “myth operates to mediate irreconcilable opposites by successively replacing them by opposites that do permit mediation. In other words, myth is a way of thinking that involves the progressive mediation of a fundamental opposition” (pp. 2-3).
In yet other words, a myth always seeks to mediate two things that are really complete opposites. To do that, the myth talks about two other things which represent the irreconcilable opposites. Those two other things are slightly closer together. As the story progresses, however, those two not-so-irreconcilable opposites get replaced by two more things which are even closer together and even less radically opposed. And eventually, toward the end of the story, there is a sort of mediation, bringing together two things which aren’t that far apart but which represent the previous set of opposites which represent the previous set, and so forth, all the way back to the two irreconcilable opposites which the story was created to mediate.
Clear as mud? Well, I can’t say that Malbon’s opening chapter, in which she set forth this approach, was all that clear to me either. But as she went along, applying this approach to Mark’s Gospel, what she meant became clearer. I should point out, as Malbon herself does, that she isn’t claiming Mark’s Gospel is myth; rather, she thinks the structure of the gospel may be similar to that of the myths Levi-Strauss examines.
Here’s how it works in practice. As you read through Mark, you notice that the first part of Mark involves the sea and the land. The land itself is either foreign land or Jewish homeland. And the Jewish homeland is either Galilee or Judea.
Malbon posits that the basic contrast, which is outside the story and which itself is irreconcilable, is between order and chaos. In the story, which seeks to mediate these opposites, order is represented by the land and chaos by the sea. That fairly radical contrast is replaced in turn by the contrast between the Jewish homeland (order, land) and the foreign lands (chaos, sea). Finally, that not-so-radical contrast is replaced by a contrast which is much more easily mediated, namely the contrast between Galilee (order, land, Jewish homeland) and Judea (chaos, sea, foreign lands). Now the fascinating thing, as Malbon points out, is that we’d expect Judea to be on the side of order and Galilee (“Galilee of the Gentiles”) to be lined up with chaos, but in Mark’s Gospel it’s the other way around and that means that Mark is standing some of our expectations on the head (as Jesus did).
Well, fascinating as it may be, I don’t buy it. For one thing, I don’t know how we get from these opposites in the story to the contrast between order and chaos outside the story. Why pick that particular contrast? To be fair, some of the extra-textual contrasts which Malbon posits make more sense, but the positing of extra-textual contrasts in general seems suspect.
For another thing, the whole approach seems to be a matter of imposing a scheme on the text. Malbon wants to see everything in the text, it seems, in terms of contrasts (with occasional intermediaries, such as mountains which mediate between earth and heaven). I can’t say that I’m even all that clear as to how the supposed mediation is taking place in her approach or, for that matter (and it’s no small matter) exactly how Jesus fits into all of this.
Nevertheless, in spite of Malbon’s questionable theory, I did find the book quite helpful. Malbon focuses closely, as her title suggests, on narrative space. She spends a chapter on geopolitical space in Mark (e.g., Galilee, Judea, foreign lands), another chapter on topography (e.g., mountains, sea, land), and a third on architectural space (e.g., synagogues, houses, tombs, temple). It’s interesting to think about the role space and the different kinds of space play in the Gospel of Mark.
For instance, much of the Gospel works with a contrast between Galilee and Judea. At the beginning of the Gospel, Jesus goes from Galilee to Judea to be baptized by John and then returns to Galilee again, where He begins His work. That Galilee-Judea-Galilee pattern at the beginning of the Gospel appears later. As Malbon explains:
In addition to establishing a link with John, Jesus’ initial journey from Nazareth of Galilee to Judea, near Jerusalem, serves another function: it foreshadows Jesus’ final journey to Judea, to Jerusalem. In the beginning Jesus journeys to Judea to be baptized by John into a ministry that leads, in the end, to a journey to Jerusalem to be crucified. The Markan Jesus would appear to interpret the first journey as a metaphor for the second in asking James and John, “‘Are you able to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?'” (10:38). But Jesus’ initial return to Galilee from Judea also foreshadows Jesus’ final return to Galilee from the tomb in Judea (16:7). The crucial importance of 1:14 as the inauguration of Jesus’ ministry is generally recognized, but it must be noted that his ministry opens with a return to Galilee from Judea. In the opening of Mark, Jesus’ return to Galilee is reported; in the closing of Mark, Jesus’ return to Galilee is anticipated. At the initial return to Galilee, Jesus comes “preaching the gospel of God” (1:14). At the final return to Galilee, it would appear, Mark comes preaching “the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (1:1). The preaching of Mark follows the preaching of Jesus, which follows the preaching of John (pp. 24-25).
Cool stuff. I’ve often wondered about that rather mysterious return to Galilee at the end of Mark’s Gospel, and Malbon’s explanation is helpful. Jesus’ first return led to preaching and mission (including mission to foreign lands) and opposition. Jesus’ second return will lead to the disciples’ preaching and mission (including mission to the Gentiles) and opposition. They also will have to take up their crosses and they may die. But the mission will continue.
Malbon also points out a parallel between the healing of the Gerasene demoniac and Jesus’ later work:
Among tombs lived the Gerasene demoniac, though his life was more death than life; his possession by a legion of unclean spirits had exiled him beyond society, beyond the realm of the living. As the tombs among which he lived (5:2, 3, 5) foreshadow the tombs of John (6:29) and Jesus (15:46a, 46b; 16:2, 3, 5, 8 ), so his departure from the tombs, his renewal of life through Jesus, his return to the realm of the living to preach, foreshadow Jesus’ response to the tomb (p. 115).
One of the oppositions which Malbon sees in Mark is the one between the synagogue and the house. She posits that the synagogue represents sacred space and the house profane space. Well, maybe. But the interesting thing is that in the early part of Mark’s Gospel, the house seems to parallel the synagogue and then, at a certain point (6:4ff.) to replace it:
Initially in the Gospel of Mark, the actions enclosed by a house parallel those enclosed by a synagogue. Jesus enters a house and heals “immediately” after having left the synagogue where he has healed (1:29). “At home” (2:1) Jesus preaches and heals. So many come to Jesus that the house cannot contain them; they spill out the door (1:33; 2:2). Jesus’ table fellowship with “tax collectors and sinners” in his home (2:15) disturbs the scribes, and later his family “at home” (3:20; RSV 319) joins the scribes in being disturbed at Jesus’ activity. Following that controversy, Jesus is no longer reported to be in his own home, but he continues to heal in the houses of those who call out to him (5:38). After healing persons, Jesus frequently sends them to their homes (2:11; 5:19), but the healer himself, like a prophet, is rejected “in his own house” (6:4).Jesus has declared his family to be “‘whoever does the will of God'” (3:35), and he appears to have that family in mind in sending his disciples out among houses not their own (6:10). Wherever Jesus goes now, the house replaces the synagogue as the architectural setting for teaching; the questioning disciples replace the accusing scribes as listeners (7:17; 9:28, 33; 10:10); the new community has a new “gathering place” (p. 118).
Later on, the disciples will follow that same pattern: controversy in synagogues will lead to being outside the synagogues (13:9) and eventually they will also need to flee their houses (13:15).
A bit later in that chapter, Malbon spends some time on the significance of Jesus’ leaving the Temple to sit on the Mount of Olives opposite the Temple (ch. 13), which makes clear the contrast between the Temple (which will be destroyed and the band of disciples around Jesus (pp. 123-124). Malbon, rightly I think, sees a parallel between Jesus’ departure from the Temple to sit on the Mount of Olives and the departure of the LORD’s glory-cloud from the Temple to the Mount of Olives in Ezekiel’s vision (Ezek. 11:23) (p. 161).
Those are just a few of the neat things Malbon points out. One doesn’t need to buy into her scheme or into Levi-Strauss’s approach to appreciate Malbon’s invitation to meditate on space in Mark’s Gospel. There’s a lot worth thinking about here!