Читать книгу Travels with St. Mark: GPS for the Journey - Eugene E. Lemcio - Страница 6

The use of “GPS” (Global Positioning System) in the title is deliberate for at least two reasons. First, it alludes to a modern means of guidance by satellites and thereby becomes immediately recognizable in a technological age. Second, “maps” might inadvertently imply that I am providing a topographical guide to the places which Jesus visited and the routes that he took in getting from “A” to “B.”

Nevertheless, “maps” (which I shall retain for internal use) will be helpful in a practical capacity since consulting them should lead to the primary way of relating to Jesus: “following after” rather than “believing in” (as is characteristic of the Fourth Gospel, but not the others). It may well be that the latter phrase was for the first three (Synoptic) evangelists more mental and/or stationary than active and behavioral.

As before (in Navigating Revelation: Charts for the Voyage), I invite the teacher and student-learner (the ancient meaning of the Greek and Latin behind “disciple”) to join me in traversing the terrain of the text—this time narrative rather than visionary apocalyptic. The following maps are to be understood primarily as guides to teaching and studying—as means, not as ends. They are not the same as the journey itself, nor the purpose of it (just as the menu should not be confused with the meal). Neither do the maps traverse each section of the terrain. There is plenty of opportunity for the serious inquirer to draw the results of his/her own as exploration along main roads, side streets, and alternate routes continues. Put another way, the selection of passages and themes is meant to be illustrative and paradigmatic so that all, beginners and those more advanced, can use them as models in expanding the range of their individual itineraries.

Rather than providing a rigid structure for indoctrination and memorization, such tables (accompanied by statements and questions) should foster orderly and disciplined instruction and study. The displays are of two kinds: the majority provides data in categories that can be inferred because of their frequency or strategic character (the subjective nature of this judgment being reduced by evidence and argument).

Interspersed among these are charts that demonstrate systematic analysis (a taking apart) and synthesis (a putting together) by posing “investigative” questions long used in literature and journalism classes: Who? (Agent: initiator or recipient), What? (Action/Event), When? (Time), Where? (Place), How? (Means/Manner/Method/Instrument), How Far/Many/Much? (Scope/Quantity), What Kind? (Quality), Why? (Purpose/Cause), So What? (Significance), etc.

Using these categories enables analysis and synthesis to be comprehensive in that many aspects of a selected narrative can be covered. At the same time, they make it possible for one to detect that which integrates the parts. Approaching literature in this way assists students to develop skills in comparison (noting similarities) and contrast (seeing differences). Furthermore, applying such neutral classification helps to increase objectivity and to limit imposing agendas foreign to a text. No rigid sequence need be followed when employing the above. They can be freely reordered to achieve the greatest pedagogical effect.

However, it is generally good practice to get an idea of the entire context, to see the forest within which individual trees grow, and to survey the lay of the land. Besides providing a sense of the whole, from which to interpret the parts, the bird’s-eye view enables one to get a feel for proportion—where the emphases lie, what weight is attributed to certain themes. As the narrative journey progresses, one can more easily determine where a turning point or parting of the ways occurs. The importance of this practice cannot be overrated—as the display and discussion in map 5 will show.

In addition to leading the reader in comparing and contrasting categories within the text itself (thereby allowing the Evangelist to speak on his own terms and in his own way—the main objective), I provide opportunities for readers to compare and contrast the Gospel with external sources—both canonical and extrabiblical. Examples of the former are of three kinds: (a) the Old Testament of the Jewish Scriptures acknowledged by Protestant Christians since the Reformation, (b) the Old Testament of the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox communions, containing Deuterocanonical writings integrated within Christian Bibles since earliest times, and (c) the New Testament. “Extrabiblical sources,” refers to writings of two kinds: (1) those which at least some Jews (and some Christians?) had at some point regarded as authoritative (such as the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs) and (2) Greco-Roman texts (such as those inscriptions that attribute cures to the god, Asclepios). This is an attempt to provide for modern readers a sense of the literary environment that shaped the religious world of Jesus, Mark, and the earliest Christians.

So far as the remainder of the NT is concerned, I have studiously avoided harmonizing Mark with other authors. However, in the case of the two remaining Synoptic Gospels (and, in a few instances, John), some accounts of the same event or teaching are similar enough that the maps will do double and even triple duty in providing a framework on the basis of which one can subsequently study the others on their own. (John is different enough in both form and content that he requires separate attention.) Consequently, I have provided chapter and verse notations in parentheses under the relevant map titles.

As before, I begin with those calling attention to themes in Daniel that have made such a profound impact upon the Synoptic Gospel tradition (and upon Revelation, for that matter): politics (both human and divine) and the Son of Man—the latter being Jesus’ exclusive self-designation and the former finding expression in “the Kingdom of God”: the central subject of his preaching and teaching.

Once again, I have used the NRSV, except in those passages referring to the son of man figure in Daniel 7 (where I resort to the RSV). I did so principally because this translation has preserved the expression “son of man” rather than converting it to the generic “human” or “mortal.” Although not a title per se, the term retains a certain formal quality, which NT writers exploit when they appropriate it. Such usage is obscured by the NRSV’s otherwise welcome efforts to avoid gender specific translation. Because this tool is meant to engage students (and teachers!) with primary texts before they resort to secondary resources, I have minimized references to the latter in footnotes. Secondary works supporting direct study of primary materials are cited internally and listed in the bibliography.

Perhaps a final word is in order about the “order” of events in Mark’s gospel, given that both teachers and students will encounter various literary patterns throughout the following maps. The subject is an ancient one, in our case going back to the earliest external evidence about the gospel. Whatever one may think about the accuracy of this account, the tradition is remarkably frank about the history of the gospel’s reception in the ancient church. Although writing in mid-fourth century, Eusebius of Caesarea cites the comments of Bp. Papias of Hierapolis who, at the time (ca. 140 CE) would have been in his mid-80s. (See the full text in the appendix.) This means that his life had spanned the end of the first century and the beginning of the second.

Papias claims to repeat the comments of a certain “Elder,” who himself had heard the apostle John. Apparently responding to criticism that Mark had not written his account “in order” (in chronological sequence), the bishop defends the Evangelist along two main lines: (1) Mark himself had not been a follower of Jesus—therefore, a witness neither to his deeds nor words. However, (2) he had followed Peter, who had been “there when it happened and ought to know.” (Would anyone care to fault him?) And this original had not given Jesus’ teachings in order (chronological sequence) but as demanded by the needs of the situation/or the requirements of form [“khreia” can be rendered in either way]. Mark’s assignment had been to write down everything that he had remembered of Jesus’ sayings.

This account of ancient Christian apologetic serves to remind modern teachers, students, and the general reader that there are various kinds of order, depending on what the user intends to achieve. Thus, chronological order is the province of historians, scientists, and police who want to establish a sequence of events—as they had happened. Rhetorical order arranges arguments and information to persuade and inspire. Pedagogy and study require presentation and mastery of a subject according to a certain orderliness—which may differ among teachers and learners, depending on personality and content. (However, getting oneself dressed demands a certain order of steps: socks (always) before shoes, etc.) Literary order may have several, simultaneous goals: providing a theological/christological point of view (“According to Mark”), conveying information, persuading, inspiring, and giving pleasure.