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Introduction

Larger works have detailed discussions on what is usually known as “Introduction.” Consequently, we will provide only a sketch of where this commentary stands in relation to such matters.

Authorship

There is no explicit mention of who the author is in the text of the Second Gospel1 but we believe him to be Mark. The case for this is based mainly on two considerations: the superscription and the external testimony.

Superscription

In ancient times the author’s name is found usually in the superscription—something that precedes the actual work, and may be treated as the equivalent to the title page in modern books. The text proper seldom identifies the author.2 All the available Greek manuscripts of this Gospel featuring a superscription unanimously name Mark as the author.3 The earliest manuscripts that have this feature come from the fourth century.4 Later manuscripts contain superscriptions in different forms, usually expanded from the simple kata Markon.5 Some scholars use this to infer that all superscriptions are artificial, leading to the thesis that this Gospel circulated anonymously at the first until a couple of centuries later.6 What remains significant, however, is that despite the varied forms, all of them consistently state that Mark is the author. Such consistency cannot be ignored.

Moreover, Mark is not the name of an apostle, or an important figure in the history of earliest Christianity. Why should a rather obscure name be passed off as the author of this important work, when there were better candidates? Indeed, the two-document hypothesis7 adds strength to this argument, as it means our Gospel was significant enough to be utilized by both Matthew and Luke. If a name has to be fabricated to identify a significant anonymous work, we would not have expected “Mark.” The name “Mark” therefore carries with it a ring of authenticity.

Furthermore, written Gospels started circulating as early as the first century. We may use John’s Gospel as an illuminating example. This work was already being copied in Egypt by AD 125,8 a mere thirty years or so after its composition, which is usually believed to be in Ephesus. Although we do not have similar evidence in the case of the Second Gospel, we may posit that it must have started circulating in the first century, since it was used by Matthew and Luke. Early circulation of Gospels necessitated some sort of labelling, so as to distinguish the one from the other.9

All the above observations mean that even if the Second Gospel was published anonymously, this anonymity would have disappeared almost from the very start, when it started circulating. In other words, even if we deem the superscriptions as secondary, we will still have to accept that they may very well have enshrined a truth. Significantly, there is only one name offered by them as the author: Mark.

Early Patristic Testimonies

The earliest and most-discussed testimony comes from Papias, the bishop of Hierapolis in the early second century. His work, Exegesis of the Lord’s Oracles, was written around AD 110,10 but it is now lost except for excerpts that are cited in Eusebius’s book, Ecclesiastical History, written in the fourth century. Papias testifies that Mark wrote the “oracles of the Lord,” dependent on Peter’s memories.11 Of course, this does not necessarily mean that our current Gospel is being referred to. That said, it is clear that as early as the beginning of the second century, Mark was connected with the writing of a compilation of Jesus’ teachings.

Irenaeus supports Papias’s testimony. Since Irenaeus is defending the authenticity of the four canonical Gospels as we now have them, it is important that he had a strong case, as otherwise his opponents could have easily destroyed it. He indicates clearly that Mark is the author of the Second Gospel, and that Peter is his source.12 We do not have room to cite all the relevant testimonies from other early Church Fathers. Suffice it to say that their testimonies are consistent with what has been presented.

Some scholars have dismissed the significance of the consistency of these testimonies by arguing that they were all dependent on Papias. So the many and varied witnesses are reduced to only one. The onus of proof is really on them, and they have not clinched their case. Moreover, it is more reasonable to believe this united testimony as reliable than to think it has been fabricated or confusingly mentioned by someone prominent, and from henceforth became the stuff of influential tradition.

To draw the threads of our argument together: Papias testifies that Mark wrote the “oracles of the Lord.” Patristic testimonies and the superscriptions in their varied forms speak with one voice: Mark wrote the Second Gospel. This Gospel was significant enough to be linked to Peter, and used by Matthew and Luke. That an important work is connected with an insignificant name indicates authenticity.

The Evangelist Mark

Who exactly is this Mark? The early patristic testimony identifies him as someone closely associated with Peter. As no other descriptors of his identity is given, we may surmise that the brief datum was enough for early Christians to decipher his identity. If this consideration is correct, we are led to look for a Mark in the earliest accounts of the rise of the church. The NT books are key here.

The Acts of the Apostles mentions a certain John Mark was once a travelling companion of the apostle Paul, and left him later (Acts 12:12, 25; 13:5, 13; 15:37). This is probably the same person mentioned in the Pauline tradition (Col 4:10; 2 Tim 4:11; Phlm 24). All this testimony, if it refers to one person, puts Mark as someone associated with Paul. In 1 Peter 5:13, however, a certain Mark is expressly referred to as “son” by the writer of the letter. Early tradition does not cast any doubt that behind 1 Peter stands Peter the apostle. If all this evidence speaks of two or three well-known Marks, we should have expected some sort of differentiation: either by assigning a title, or a toponym. Since there is no such attempt, it is reasonable to think that only one person is referred to: John Mark who was once the travelling companion of Paul but who became closely associated with Peter later on.

Can we know more about John Mark? Additional information may be found in the Anti-Marcionite Prologues (c. AD 180), that is if these enshrined an authentic traditions. In the relevant Prologue, Mark is described as stumpy-fingered. This datum might interest some readers but it adds nothing significant to our interpretation of his book.

What if our identification is wrong? Nothing substantial is affected in terms of exegesis if we are only concerned with unpacking the message of the book. Of course, if it is true that the book is written by John Mark, and that Peter was his source, the implication for historical reconstruction of earliest Christianity would certainly be significant.

Date

Many scholars date the composition of Mark’s Gospel to a time before the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70.13 One reason for this is that in chapter 13 Jesus is recorded as predicting the destruction of the Temple. Since Mark is fond of adding editorial comments (e.g., 7:3–4), we should expect a mention that this prophecy had been fulfilled if the book was written post-70. Furthermore, Josephus tells us that there was a great fire that destroyed the Temple. The fact that none of these is mentioned speaks for a pre-70 composition.

Is it possible to be more precise? The text offers little help here, except for 13:14, that is, if we can decipher its referent. In this verse Mark signals to the reader to take special note of what is said (“let the reader understand”). This suggests either the abomination of desolation has already been set up or the event is imminent. If we are right in identifying this as the occupation of the Temple by the Zealots and the forced appointment of Phanias as the High Priest (see the treatment of chapter 13), this brings us to the shadow of AD 67–68. However, the identification of the abomination of desolation is a highly contentious issue, and so we must look to other evidence.

We turn, once again, to early patristic testimony. When we compare the relevant statements of Papias and Irenaeus, an apparent discrepancy surfaces. Was Mark’s Gospel written before or after Peter’s death? Much hinges on how we interpret the term exodos in Irenaeus’s testimony (i.e., whether it means a literal departure from a certain locality or a euphemism for death). That said, a case has been made that Irenaeus may, after all, be consistent with Papias.14 Whatever the case may be, it does not contradict the proposed pre-70 date. Taking all this into consideration, the range AD 64–68 appears cogent.

What is of significance here is that these were turbulent years, occasioned by Nero’s persecution of Christians in Rome (AD 64) and the Jewish conflict with Rome (AD 66–70), concluding in the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70. As Gaston observes, it is in this particular time span that all the motifs of Mark 13 would be operative to the fullest extent.15

Provenance and Audience

The questions of provenance (i.e., where the document originated) and audience may be answered by looking at the evidence provided by early patristic testimony, and by the text itself.

To start with the former, the two best candidates are Rome and Egypt (probably Alexandria). Early and wide testimony supports Rome as the place of composition (the evidence is provided by Irenaeus, Clement of Alexandria, and the Anti-Marcionite Prologues among many others). This is further supported by the presence of Latinisms in the Gospel (see especially Mark 7:26; 12:42; 15:16).16 These are either Latin terms that have been transliterated into Greek, or terms that have a uniquely Roman flavor. Furthermore, Mark’s text assumes a Gentile audience (cf. 7:3–4), especially one that was well-versed in the OT because he cites from it and alludes to it in many places. The Christian community at Rome fits this bill: Paul’s letter to the Romans paints a picture of a Gentile community that knows its LXX well.

The other candidate attested in patristic writings is Egypt. The testimony is provided by one lonely voice: John Chrysostom (c. 347–407). Measured against the early and widely-attested Roman provenance,17 the Egyptian provenance appears improbable. That said, there is a rich tradition that locates Mark in Alexandria, but this does not necessarily contradict the testimony that the Gospel was written in Rome. Eusebius mentions that Mark was sent to Alexandria after he had written his Gospel in Rome.18 Epiphanius’s testimony supports this, with the additional detail that it was Peter who sent him there.19

Interestingly, a handful of scholars have argued that Mark was composed in Syria-Palestine.20 However, no external testimony supports it. The case is derived from internal evidence, inferring from passages such as 7:31 and 15:21.

If the Gospel of Mark has a Roman provenance, we may presume Mark is writing for a Roman audience, particularly the church at Rome. Much of Markan scholarship then utilizes this assumption to reconstruct the profile of the community to which Mark is writing. He mentions some details such as the young man who fled naked (14:52), and Simon of Cyrene (15:51–52) who is also described as the father of Alexander and Rufus. These details would interest only a particular community.

There are, however, other considerations to bear in mind. Recently, Bauckham has argued that unlike the letters, the Gospels are meant for a wider circulation, and not just for one community.21 The ably-argued case need not be rehearsed here. Consider the itineraries of the apostles, the frequent communication between churches, and the fact that we could not expect an elaborate work such as Mark’s Gospel to be written only for a community of about fifty to one hundred Christians. That said, Bauckham’s case must be balanced against the quaint details found in Mark. The resultant picture is that of a writing that has been shaped by a specific audience, but without limiting itself to that audience.22 Mark certainly wrote for his immediate community but he also had in mind Christians all over the Empire who might find his writing beneficial and edifying.

Occasion and Purpose

To answer the questions of occasion and purpose we must depend substantially on our reconstruction of the origin of the writing, especially the dating, the provenance, and the audience. But the text itself may also play a part.

It has frequently been observed that Mark’s Gospel shows a heightened interest in discipleship, focusing especially on the suffering awaiting them, either in the form of repudiation or persecution. From this observation, it is often thought that Mark was written to an audience experiencing persecution from society or state. Thus Mark’s Gospel would have the purpose of reaffirming the importance of the gospel to a beleaguered community, and helping them fall in line with the way of the Lord, especially during times of persecution. The way of the cross is the way of Jesus, and this is the way that would lead ultimately to glory. History tells us Nero began an intense persecution of Christians in Rome in AD 64. This might have been the impetus for Mark’s Gospel to be written.23

The other possibility is that Mark intended to set in writing the oral apostolic tradition, especially Peter’s, as the band of apostles was passing away. This serves the purpose of preserving the tradition for future generations. The evidence from Papias lends support to such a theory, for he implies that Mark wrote before Peter’s death.

There is no need to choose between the two, as Mark could conceivably have had a few purposes in mind (including those not discussed earlier). Here it may be instructive to note the subtle difference, and yet inter-dependability, between occasion and purpose. The occasion which led to the writing may arguably have been the onset of persecution or the aging of the apostles. This might have triggered an intention to write a document to achieve not just one but a set of objectives.24 Such objectives may have been pastoral in nature, didactic or polemical (i.e., Mark might be countering some false teaching),25 or all of the above. So we need not come down firmly on a particular purpose.

Literary Characteristics

What sort of writing is the Gospel of Mark? Comparing it with the whole range of ancient literature, what comes closest to it is known as the bios or “Life.”26 This is an ancient form of biography, often written to encourage the audience to follow the example of the featured life. To be sure, Mark’s writing would appear rather different from such bioi in that the focus is on the passion and death of his “hero.” But what makes it different is the character not the genre. Mark wants his audience to know that his central character, Jesus of Nazareth, is unlike any other in the ancient world, indeed in the whole of human history. This character’s significance is intimately connected to his passion and death, and hence the nature of the focus. In this regard Mark is not inventing a new genre. Later on, others emulated his writing, and such writings became known as “Gospels” or churchly writings. It is only after this that one can speak of a new genre, or better, a sub-genre.

It may be claimed that Mark intended his writing to be read in the setting of worship (cf. Acts 2:42; 5:42; Col 4:15). Moreover, literacy rates were rather low in the ancient world.27 Hence Mark would have designed his work not for self-study but to be read aloud to Christian communities gathered at worship. Certain features of Mark’s text demonstrate this. His style is vivid (e.g., Mark 14:32–52; compare this with the parallel accounts in Matthew and Luke), and is often replete with dual expressions—a feature of oral communication and not formal writing. An example of this dual expression is found in Mark 1:32, where the time of the event is described as “evening, when the sun has set.” This may appear tautologous to the trained eye of a good writer. But for oral communication, such dual expressions make the message memorable. Furthermore, repetitiveness is a feature (e.g., the threefold passion prediction: 8:31; 9:31; 10:33), which helps especially a listening audience, who would not have the document to refer to. All these stylistic devices are in keeping with a text written for oral presentation.28

Certain corollaries follow. First of all, it calls into question the many complicated and convoluted chiastic structures proposed by scholars.29 How could a listener perceive such grand schemes and structures which are transparent only after sustained analysis? That said, this criticism must not be taken as rendering void all rhetorical studies of Mark’s text. Rather, it is to say, secondly, that we should expect Mark to employ small-scale techniques, utilizing small chunks of text so that the listener might not be lost in a wealth of details. Indeed, Mark makes use of flashbacks, small-scale chiastic structures, the sandwich technique for relating one story to the other, suspense, paradox, and topical arrangements. Such techniques hold the listeners’ interest, and help them to connect episodes or passages so that a profounder message may be perceived. Finally, it suggests that the structure of the book is straightforwardly simple and predominantly linear. Our proposed structure will take this into account. But before this is offered, we must consider an important datum often missed by scholars emphasizing that Mark’s Gospel is written for oral presentation.

In Mark 13:14, Mark inserts his editorial remark “let the reader understand.” This directive to the reader is important for our consideration of the kind of text Mark’s Gospel is. If Mark were written merely for oral presentation, we should expect the remark to be “let the listener understand.” The fact that the reader is alerted, without giving him explicit clues as to the meaning of the abomination of desolation, implies that this reader is no ordinary reader but someone who has been trained. He could then be expected to explain to the audience the meaning of v. 14. This certainly means he is also expected to explain or clarify Mark’s teaching to the audience.

Moreover, Mark’s text is too long for a one-sitting reading. A reader must know the appropriate points to stop his reading. He must be guided by the contents, rather than by length. Thus we should expect a clear structure to be found and clear indications of breaks in the text.

If the above conjectures are correct, an important rider must be added to the valid concept of the Gospel of Mark being written for oral presentation. It is a bios, written for oral presentation by an informed or trained reader, who has the duty to study his text so he knows where to stop the reading for the day, and so he can prepare himself to explain certain aspects of it to his audience. Therefore, we must allow for some sophistication to Mark’s Gospel, even if the structure is straightforwardly simple.

We can now present a proposed structure for it. We argued earlier for a structure that is clear and simple. Two cues are provided at the beginning and at the end respectively. First, Mark has announced his primary subject matter right at the start—the gospel of Messiah Jesus—and this must guide us in our construal of the structure. The second is obtained by considering the sort of denouement Mark has adopted for his narrative. Scanning through the text, one observes that the Passion narrative takes on a prominent role. Moreover, Mark narrates only one trip of Jesus to Jerusalem, which is a climactic and fateful one. Of course, Jesus would have made many trips to that city, historically speaking. So Mark’s narration of only one trip indicates to us where his narrative emphasis is, and what sort of structure he is adopting. It describes the progression of Jesus’ gospel ministry, using a geographical approach that is easily remembered: beginning with Galilee and ending with Jerusalem.

The Structure of Mark

I. The Beginning of the Gospel (1:1–13)

II. The Gospel in Galilee: The Mighty Acts of the Messiah

(1:14—8:21)

1:14–15 Jesus’ Inaugural Gospel Message

1:16–45 Typical Activities of Jesus’ Ministry

2:1—3:6 Conflict with Religious Authorities

3:7–12 Summary of Jesus’ Deeds

3:13–35 New People of God and Jesus’ True Family

4:1–34 Kingdom in Parables

4:35–41 Stilling of the Storm and Unveiling of Jesus’ Identity

5:1–20 Healing of the Demoniac of Gerasenes

5:21–43 Jairus’s Daughter and the Woman with Chronic Bleeding

6:1–6a Rejection at Nazareth

6:6b–30 Mission Extended and Martyrdom Foreshadowed

6:31–56 Miracles Around the Lake

7:1–23 Redefining the Unclean

7:24–36 Extension of Jesus’ Ministry to the Gentiles

8:1–10 Feeding of the 4,000

8:11–21 Demand for a Sign and the Yeast of the Pharisees and Herod

III. On the Road to Jerusalem: The Gospel and the Suffering Messiah (8:22—10:52)

8:22–30 Stuttering Beginnings of a True Perception

8:31—9:1 Messiah Must Suffer

9:2–13 Transfiguration and Transformation of Expectations

9:14–29 Boy with an Unclean Spirit

9:30–50 “The Messiah Must Suffer” and Sundry Lessons on Discipleship

10:1–31 More Revolutionary Values for Disciples

10:32–45 Following the Messiah in Service

10:46–52 Restoring Bartimaeus’s Sight

IV. The Climax of the Gospel: The Messiah and Jerusalem

(11:1—16:8)

11:1–25 Challenge in Jerusalem: Symbols of Fulfillment and Judgment

11:27–33 Jesus’ Authority Questioned

12:1–44 Further Controversies

13:1–37 Eschatological Discourse on the Mount of Olives

14:1–11 Anointing at Bethany

14:12–31 Last Supper

14:32–52 Gethsemane and the arrest of Jesus

14:53–72 Hearing by the Sanhedrin

15:1–20 Roman Trial

15:21–41 Crucifixion and Death of Jesus

15:42–47 Burial of Jesus

16:1–8 Resurrection

Within each phase two entities stand out: the Messiah and his people/disciples. What connects the Messiah and his people is the gospel that is preached, enacted through mighty acts, and embodied through suffering obedience.

The Beginning of the Gospel (1:1–13)

The Heading (1:1)

In a world where many things compete for the interest of a potential reader, the beginning of a book must be written in such a way as to be attention-grabbing. Its role is therefore critical because not only has it to perform the aforesaid function, it has also to inform the reader, at least in an implicit way, of what is to come.

What we now have shows that Mark has opened his narrative admirably. Not only are highly potent terms in his culture used (“beginning,” “gospel,” “Christ” and possibly “Son of God”), they are also expressed with an unexpected twist, signaling that what follows may be both explosive and subversive. We will explain how this takes place, but first, a question concerning the exact limits of the opening section of Mark has to be discussed.

Verse 1 serves certainly as a heading. What is disputed among scholars is whether it is the heading of the entire work or just a section, such as 1:1–13 or 1:1–15. By virtue of its compressed style and the presence of numerous significant words, we incline to the view that it serves as the heading of the entire work.30 A parallel that illuminates this is Hosea 1:2. We may also mention the fact that Mark does not write sectional headings, not even for his important Passion Narrative.

That said, we note that the Greek kathōs (“just as”) introduces vv. 2–3. Without the usual complement of a houtōs (“so”) clause, it implies that kathōs introduces a statement (i.e., vv. 2–3) to complete an earlier one (i.e., v. 1). This means v. 1 does not stand alone as a sentence, as we might expect the heading of the work to be. Verse 1 may then be understood as both the heading of the work and forming part of the opening section.31 This may appear confusing but it may have come about because Mark is not concerned with formal style. It is also possible that Mark is creatively ambivalent.32

With regard to the extent of the opening section, we think it ends in v. 13,33 as there appears to be a clear break in content and plot with 1:14–15. These verses speak of John’s imprisonment—implying the end of one phase—and introduces Jesus’ message to the readers.

We return to v. 1, especially the meaning of the significant terms in their context. The “beginning of the gospel” was certainly a loaded phrase. A calendar inscription from Priene (9 BC) illuminates this.34 We provide the English translation of Danker:35

In her display of concern and generosity on our behalf, Providence, who orders all our lives, has adorned our lives with the highest good, namely Augustus … And Caesar, [when he was manifest], transcended the expectations of [all who had anticipated the good news], not only by surpassing the benefits conferred by his predecessors but by leaving no expectation of surpassing him to those who would come after him, with the result that the birthday of our god signaled the beginning of good news for the world because of him.36

We can detect some subversion by Mark. The Greek word he uses for “gospel” is euangelion, which was important for the early Church, just as it is for Christian faith today. It was also important for the Roman Empire, although it is usually found in the plural form (euangelia). The Christian usage was always singular. What must not be missed is that the calendar inscription speaks of the beginning of the euangelia, stating its connection with Augustus Caesar’s birth, calling him a god and proclaiming a universal impact. Mark connects the beginning of the one gospel with Jesus Christ instead. If the phrase “Son of God” was original to Mark’s text, there is another point of contact that may be discerned. We know from other sources that Augustus Caesar was known as the son of god, after his adoptive father Julius Caesar was divinized by the Roman senate. In Mark’s text, Jesus Christ is the Son of God. Markan subversion is clearly at work.

We now take a closer look at the meaning of Mark’s euangelion. That the word means good news is accepted by all scholars. But the framework within which we are to understand it has been disputed. Taking all the scholarly discussions into consideration but without going into detail, it seems best to understand this term against the OT and Jewish background,37 without negating the possibility that Mark would have been familiar with the Roman propaganda that uses the term. In other words, Rome may be the dialogue partner, but she does not define the meaning for Mark. That meaning comes from the OT, which the verses that follow make clear.

Of importance are the Hebrew words bāśar (verb) and mĕbāśśer (participle). These words are found in passages with potent theological nuances, such as Isa 40:9; 52:7 and 61:1. These passages speak of the announcement of the good news of God’s return to Zion, ending Israel’s exile and rooting out evil from the world. Mark’s use of euangelion may then be regarded as pointing to the fulfillment of these promises.

Two more words need to be explicated in the heading: “Christ” and “Son of God”. With regard to “Christ”, it is best to treat it as a title: Messiah. “Christ” is the anglicized version of the Greek Christos, which is in turn a translation of the Hebrew māšîah (anglicized into “Messiah”), which basically means “the anointed one.” In Jewish thought of the Second Temple period, the reference is often—though not always—to a royal figure from the line of David, who is expected to come to deliver Israel from her enemies (cf. 4QFlor 1:10–13, 18–19; Pss Sol 17:21–32).38 What is more important, however, is Mark’s use of the term, which means a firm decision can only be made when the whole work has been analyzed.

The connection between the term “Son of God” and Roman propaganda has been explained earlier but we note here two further things. First, it is not clear whether this phrase was part of Mark’s original text. Much has been discussed and there is no consensus.39 Assuming it is original, it will be instructive to explore its Jewish background. In its Jewish context, the “Son of God” is often used in relation to the concept of election, principally the choice of Israel as God’s special people, and the choice of the Davidic king as God’s vicegerent. This fits into the ancient concept of divine adoption, where someone or a nation is singled out as a god’s special love. For many Jews of Jesus’ day, the term when used on human beings did not mean he/she was divine, but the chosen ruler or king of Israel. The Qumran scrolls (4QFlor and 4Q246) offer clear evidence that this is so. Of course, the Christian Church could have poured new content into the title, based on their understanding of who Jesus was. That is, as Son of God he was not simply king but more than king. However, Mark has intentionally left the meaning unexplained in the prologue. He will clarify this as his narrative proceeds. Modern scholarship has often regarded this title as the key to Mark’s Christology.40

It remains for us to summarize what Mark has achieved with his heading. Mark has certainly introduced the key character, identified him with title(s) and indicated his importance with the correlate phrase “beginning of the gospel”. All this is indeed explosive because set in the first century Roman Empire, the terms such as “gospel” and “son of God” formed a significant part of the unifying propaganda of an Empire that comprised many subjugated kingdoms and peoples. These terms laud the ruling power, usually making reference to the one who was touted as the greatest among them all: Augustus Caesar. But Mark speaks of a different gospel and a different Son of God, who is none other than Jesus of Nazareth, hailing from what may be regarded as the backwater of the Empire, and belonging to a people often regarded as strange at best, or a pest at worst. In other words, right from the very start, the alert reader would perceive that a contrast—indeed, a contest—is being set up between Augustus Caesar and Jesus Christ, between Rome and the Christian Church.

Fusing the Horizons

Mark’s prologue was a shrill challenge to his society. What is striking in this challenge is the use of significant terms to flesh out the meaning of the Christian gospel. In other words, the potent content is given relevant packaging so that its power can be perceived much more quickly. Indeed, the packaging also hints at the contrast between the Roman gospels and the Christian gospel. One was plural, needing frequent re-enactments and connected with the might of this world; the other is singular, being the one true gospel, and is connected with the might of heaven but displayed, as Mark will show, in the crucified form of the Messiah. Popular and significant terms are thus being subverted by the Christian message.

Evangelistic endeavors in our world may take a leaf from Mark’s book. Too often the gospel is presented in a garb that comes from another time or culture. We must, instead, seek ways to use significant terms in our time and culture to present the gospel. The rich theological terms of yesteryears, or from a far country, would simply pass our generation by if we do not make the effort to connect. In this light, the gospel message is not a mantra to be repeated but a performance that needs creative re-enactments.

This does not mean we are merely repeating what is fashionable. Rather, we are to use it as contact points or for subversion. In this sense, while the gospel can indeed be quickly understood, it is still a challenging message, as it calls people to abandon old and entrenched patterns of thinking and living in order to embrace the new and liberating. Hence, gospel preaching cannot just be about packaging, important as this may be. The content is supremely important, for it is this that will ultimately subvert and transform. To reiterate what was adumbrated earlier: we need creative performances, but such performances are also to be re-enactments, following the plot but with different props.

Mark’s prologue indicates that the content of gospel preaching is to be informed by the story of Jesus Christ. This is the reference point. As such it serves as a challenge to how the gospel is being presented today. We may mention here, as an example, the weekly sermons of some churches where the focus is on how their members may be healthy or wealthy. God is presented as the doting, generous Creator and we are therefore fools if we remain sickly or poor. Such a counterfeit message contradicts Mark’s presentation of his central character and actually sounds more like the gospels of the Caesars.41 Such gospels certainly brought material benefit, but often only for a select group: the rich and powerful, the decision makers and the investors. Never mind the cries of the powerless many. Sadly, Christians may be complicit in such matters. As long as business or governmental schemes can enrich us, we are tempted to take them as God’s blessing, without considering whether they are moral or just. Any gospel preaching that takes our eyes away from Christ must therefore be treated with suspicion.

John the Baptist and Jesus’ Ministry (1:2–13)

If the gospel is fundamentally connected with Jesus Christ, its origins actually predate his ministry and reach back to the Old Testament. Mark cites a fused text from Exod 23:30; Isa 40:3; and Mal 3:1 but attributes it only to Isaiah (v. 2). Sensing that there is an apparent contradiction here, later scribes changed the reading to “the prophets.” However, the early manuscripts should be followed and there is no need to think that Mark has blundered. Three reasons may be posited for this “limited” attribution. First, Mark is in good company, as many biblical writers understood prophecy as being related to the one ongoing story of God and Israel, or the world.42 So it is often assumed there is a theological force driving forward and unifying history. Earlier Scripture may then be regarded as contributing to the development of the same divine plot as later scripture, giving rise to the Jewish exegetical practice of linking texts containing similar subject matter (known in its Jewish form as gezerah shawah or analogy). Secondly, Mark singles out Isaiah because he regards him as the best exponent of the evangelical message of the Old Testament (i.e., Isaiah is the prophet of the gospel par excellence). What this implies is that we are given a hint as to how we may understand Mark’s concept of the gospel, and from this, the ministry of Jesus may therefore be better understood.43 Indeed, Isaiah is the only writing prophet mentioned by name in Mark’s Gospel. Thirdly, Mark wants to introduce John the Baptist as the predicted forerunner of Jesus Christ. John’s role dovetails best with the Isaianic prophecy of the voice in the wilderness. The citation of Isa 40:3 therefore prepares the reader for the next narrative development: a description of John’s ministry.

The use of Isa 40:3 is highly significant here. The Qumran community which produced the Dead Sea Scrolls, appropriated it to explain its establishment in the wilderness (1QS 8:14; 9:19–21). It was there to prepare the way of God, signifying the imminent fulfillment of the great divine promise of restoration. The focus on this is not surprising, as Isaiah contains the powerful theme of a second exodus and a return of God to Zion to reign. When this is realized, there will be profound transformation in both flora and fauna, to the extent that the term “new creation” may be used (cf. Isa 65:17). In Mark’s hand, the same prophecy is used for signaling the imminence of divine restoration, but astonishingly he explicates it as the coming of Jesus Christ. The significance of this will be made clear as Mark’s narrative progresses.

The herald of the Isaianic prophecy is identified as John the Baptizer (v. 4). John’s characteristic practice is introduced together with a brief description of the way he is dressed (vv. 4–6). The reference to his attire is meant to evoke memories of the prophets (2 Kings 1:8; Zech 13:4), and also to confirm that John was indeed a desert dweller, dovetailing with the prophecy of the voice in the wilderness.

John is called “Baptizer,” implying that this was his characteristic activity and for which people remembered him, which Josephus the Jewish historian confirms (Antiquities 18:117–19). Mark explains the theological rationale for John’s baptism as being connected with repentance and the forgiveness of sins. Such forgiveness is ratified through the outward act of baptism for the repentant. This fits in with the conceptual background of the fused text used in 1:2–3: a people truly prepared for the advent of God must have genuinely turned away (i.e., repented) from their disobedience, and embraced the gracious overtures of God (i.e., forgiveness). Moreover, against the first century Jewish background and the evidence provided by Josephus, John’s baptism may also be understood as a call to join a new community. His use of the wilderness as the place of ministry could therefore have arisen from both practical and theological concerns, as the wilderness was the place that could fit crowds and was also evocative of Israel’s exodus traditions.

Based on the data above, scholars have speculated whether John was ever connected with the Qumran community, since there is a convergence of text, location, and practice. However, given the paucity of the evidence and some crucial differences in relation to how baptism was administered (mainly frequency and agency), it is best to leave the question open.44

Verses 7–8 summarize John’s message. The forerunner theme is further developed, but with the focus now on the coming one. He may also be known as “the stronger one,” perhaps harking back to the Isaianic idea of God as “the mighty one” (28:2; 49:26), or possibly his messenger (Isa 11:2). Whatever the case, this person is so mighty that John is unworthy even to do one of the lowliest tasks in society: to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals.

Significantly, this person will also baptize, but with the Spirit. The Holy Spirit is connected with the OT end-time expectation of a great moment of cleansing, resulting in the renewal of Israel. This promise is often described with liquid metaphors (Isa 32:15; 44:3; Ezek 11:19; 36:26–27; cf. Ezek 37:14; Joel 2:28–29; and 1QS 4:20–22). Such metaphors show spiritual cleansing is an important concern of God. The upshot of all this is that the Spirit’s work may be regarded as “baptism.” The similar saying in Matt 3:11||Luke 3:16 adds the word “fire.” This may gel with what Mark is portraying, as fire is also an image for cleansing, albeit with the added notion of judgment.

Mark skillfully follows his description of John’s message with the public appearance of Jesus. Astonishingly, Jesus comes to be baptized by John! This may reduce Jesus’ status to being ordinary, but Mark prevents this by describing the divine portent that takes place at Jesus’ baptism: the heavens are rent open, the Spirit descends in the form of a dove, and the divine voice speaks, affirming Jesus to be his beloved son. The significance of all this may be unpacked as follows.

First, Mark uses the Greek schizō to describe what took place in the heavens. This is a graphic word, which speaks of “tearing asunder.” Mark uses this word only once more, in the account of the tearing of the Temple veil (15:38). The other Gospel writers use anoigō, which means “open,” so as to avoid suggesting violence was done to heaven (Matt 3:16; Luke 3:21). Mark knows the meaning of anoigō and uses it in 7:35. All this implies schizō is being used intentionally and not because Mark lacks the vocabulary. The reason for this may be that Mark is thinking of Isaiah. This suggestion is supported by the fact that the book of Isaiah is important to the composition of Mark’s Gospel. In Isa 64:1 the prophet pleads before God to rend45 the heavens and come down, so as to restore the nation of Israel. For Mark, Jesus’ baptism signifies God has answered this prayer.46 The long-awaited intimate involvement and restorative action of God has come to pass.

Secondly, the descent of the Spirit takes on the bodily form of a dove. The Greek syntax47 can mean either “the Spirit, appearing as a dove, descends” (i.e., understanding it adjectivally)48 or “the Spirit descends as a dove does” (i.e., understanding it adverbially).49 Since Mark describes Jesus as seeing something tangible, many commentators take the simile as adjectival.50 The image of the Spirit as a dove is remarkable in two ways. First, the description is a stable datum across all four Gospels, when they contain many variations in the accounts of Jesus’ baptism. The second is that this is a unique description of the Spirit, not even paralleled in the account of Pentecost (Acts 2:1–4). Against all comers, this image of the Spirit has stuck in Christian art, but what does it mean?

Avian images have been used of the Spirit’s work of creation in the OT and Jewish literature (Gen 1:2; b. Hag. 15a; cf. 4Q521 1:6, where eschatological re-creation is in view). This theme does relate to the theological nuances of Mark’s description of the beginning of the gospel. However, why does Mark specify a dove? In the alleged parallels, a dove is never mentioned. Recently, it has been proposed that Mark is countering the Roman symbol of an eagle with the dove.51 There is much mileage in this but in our opinion it is still deficient, as it neglects the Jewish background. The dove often stands for Israel in Jewish literature (Hos 7.11; b. Ber 53b; b. Sab 49a), but never once is it used of the Spirit, with the possible exception of Targum to Canticles 2:12, where the voice of the turtledove is interpreted as the voice of the Spirit. Even so, it is clear that this parallel is not exact.

One possible solution is to regard the simile as a complex reference to the Spirit’s work of remaking Israel as having been devolved upon Jesus through his spiritual anointing and empowerment. After all, the Spirit is understood in the prophetic literature as the end-time gift that remakes Israel (see especially Ezek 36–37). All this will explain why Jesus in Mark represents Israel, and at the same time calls upon the nation to follow him in order to gain the kingdom. Admittedly this is speculative, but its consonance with many Markan themes makes it somewhat appealing. However, if a safe but bland answer is required, it is that the dove is a clean animal for sacrifice (Gen 15:9; Lev 1:14; 12:6; 15:14, 29).

Thirdly, the visual symbol is accompanied by the divine voice, which affirms Jesus as his beloved Son. If we discount the occurrence of this nomenclature in v. 1 because of textual uncertainty, this will then be the first time Jesus is called God’s Son. Scholars have debated the precise nature of the background to this verse: whether it is based on Ps 2:7; Isa 42:1 (for this to work, it must be conjectured that an original pais has been transmuted to huios); or Gen 22:2. If we are right to propose that sonship language should first and foremost be understood as election language when used of human beings, Ps 2:7 appears to be the more suitable background, being a verse from an enthronement psalm. But there is no need to think of a precise passage. What is more important is the story and role underlying such a title. Jesus as God’s beloved Son takes Israel’s role upon himself and rule as God’s vicegerent. This divine pronouncement gives the true perspective on Jesus’ identity for the reader.

As the Son of God, Jesus is then led by the Spirit to be tempted by Satan in the wilderness, which Mark describes rather briefly (vv. 12–13). Jesus may be regarded here as recapitulating the experience of Israel in the first exodus. Instead of forty years, he is tempted for forty days by Satan. The mention of Satan also serves to foreshadow the conflict to come in Jesus’ ministry. Interestingly, Jesus is described as being with the wild beasts (v. 13). The significance of this remark is unclear. It may refer either to the intensity of his temptation (i.e., threat of wild beasts), or the restoration of paradisiac conditions (i.e., wild beasts are tamed).