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The Gospel in Galilee: The Mighty Acts of the Messiah (1:14—8:21)

Jesus’ Inaugural Message (1:14–15)

The programmatic significance of these verses must be highlighted. This is the first time that Jesus speaks in Mark’s Gospel, and with this Mark sums up Jesus’ message. If the preceding section formed the beginning of the gospel, this passage may be understood as the hinge moment in the gospel story.

Mark prefaces Jesus’ proclamation with the arrest of John. The point is that the forerunner has done his part, and Mark will explain later why he was arrested (see 6:17–18). The stronger one who baptizes with the Spirit (1:7–8) now proclaims. The locality of this proclamation is not in the wilderness but in Galilee, a cosmopolitan region belonging to Herod Antipas. The message concerns the gospel of God. For the alert listener, a connection between this and 1:1 is at once detected.

The statement of Jesus in v. 15 may be broken into two parts. First he announces what is happening, and Mark uses the Greek perfect tense here (peplērōtai and ēngiken) to signify that what Jesus proclaimed continues to have currency for his readers. Secondly, Jesus counsels a response, and Mark depicts this with the present tense, signifying that the actions of repentance and faith are to be ongoing. The key themes of Jesus’ ministry and Mark’s Gospel are therefore given in a nutshell: fulfillment, kingdom, repentance, faith, and gospel.

Fulfillment speaks of plot, with currents reaching back to the past. What is described as taking place is therefore to be construed as being once foretold. In this regard, there is meaning to history, and more precisely, it implies God has been faithful to his promises. It is this quality that gives his people hope.

The word kingdom (the Greek is basileia) should be understood primarily in the abstract sense of “reign,” rather than in the concrete sense of “realm,” as the Hebrew malkût or the Aramaic malkûta’ makes clear. But the two ideas are associated, as reign often entails realm. Israel believes her God is the only true ruler and creator, and so his reign cannot be abstractly divorced from history. Indeed, Israel was chosen to be God’s true subjects to demonstrate concretely to the world what his reign meant. But her disobedience sent her into exile. Consequently an eschatological expectation of God’s return to Zion shows in a climactic way that he is the sole king of the universe and that Israel is his special people (Ps 145:10–13; Isa 52:7). While the meaning of the kingdom may indeed be polyvalent, it should not therefore be conceived as referring to anything. Instead, it is to be anchored in the ongoing story of the one God and his people, and understood in relation to the yearning for eschatological closure.52

Is there an OT passage that may help us situate Jesus’ announcement? Isaiah 52:7 is a good candidate. This is supported by Mark’s having named Isaiah as the key inspiration behind his idea of the beginning of the gospel in 1:2–3. Furthermore, the notions of God’s reign and the proclamation of good news are explicitly joined together in Isa 52:7. In this passage, God returns to Zion to reign as king. Consequently, the herald announces to Zion and the cities around her the good news. This divine advent signifies for the Israelites the end of exile and the onset of eschatological blessings. Jesus’ message of the kingdom may be said to relate to such a hope.

The puzzling thing is that the kingdom is described as “having come near,” which contradicts on the surface the fact of fulfillment. Not surprisingly, scholars have debated the precise meaning of the original Greek, whether ēngiken means imminence53 or arrival.54 The consensus is that it means imminence, but this does not bring us any closer to a resolution of the apparent contradiction. That said, this phenomenon of the “now-and-not-yet” actually forms the substructure of much of Markan theology, indicating that Mark sees in it a potent theological theme. Indeed, as his narrative progresses, the reader will see that the resolution of this oxymoron lies in answering correctly the question of who Jesus is, and how the kingdom is intimately bound up with him. In this regard, “paradox” is a better word than “contradiction” (i.e., the kingdom is in a sense still future but in an important sense it may be claimed to have arrived).55 We will return to this topic in our treatment of chapter 4.

The response counselled by Jesus is repentance and faith. While such qualities have an important role in general piety, their special connection with the kingdom of God should not be missed. In the prophetic literature, repentance (often described with the Hebrew šûb) is often the precondition of forgiveness and restoration (Isa 44:22; Jer 3:10–14; Hos 14:1–9). All this is often couched in corporate terms.56 In this regard, the pattern of sin-exile-restoration, found frequently in the story of Israel and God, may plausibly be latent here.57 More significantly, there can be no repentance if we do not agree with God’s statement of our condition or his promise of forgiveness. Hence, repentance and faith are two sides of the same coin: we repent believingly, and we believe repentantly. Note the link back to John’s ministry, as his baptism is a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins (1:4).

Leading from the above point is the idea that this faith, while directed ultimately to God, must also take the form of believing the message of Jesus. As Mark will demonstrate later, faith is not so much about trusting generally in God’s faithfulness as confessing that through the ministry of Jesus God’s faithfulness is seen. In this regard, the promises that Israel longed for are now encapsulated in the ministry of Jesus.

The Gospel in Action and Typical Activities of Jesus’ Ministry (1:16–45)

In this section the typical activities of Jesus’ ministry are presented in cameo form. Mark narrates Jesus’ call of his first disciples (1:16–20), his teaching activity which is connected with the performance of miracles (1:21–39), and the foreshadowing of conflict through the story of the healing of the leper (1:40–45). Discipleship, teaching, miracles, and conflict will be motifs occupying much of Mark’s Gospel. Through all these cameo-like stories, Mark gives his listeners an idea of what it means for the gospel to be in action.

The Call of the First Disciples (1:16–20)

If according to the prophetic literature, God’s return to Zion takes place in tandem with the reconstituting of a covenantal community (Isa 59:20–21; 61:1–8; Jer 31:31–34; Ezek 37:21–28; Hos 2:18–23), and if, through the Spirit’s anointing, the task of this reconstitution has been devolved upon Jesus, then it is not surprising that together with the gospel proclamation, Jesus would call disciples as the first step in building this reconstituted community. This is precisely what is presented in vv. 16–20.

The Sea of Galilee provides the setting of the call story. Strabo (Geography 16:2) and Pliny the Elder (Natural History 5:15)—both naturalists of the first centuries that straddle the Common Era—and Josephus (War 3:506–508) testify to its being full of fish. Many settlements arose close to its shores and gave the whole region a rather cosmopolitan character.

When understood against the first century Jewish background, Jesus’ call of disciples becomes striking. As Martin Hengel has noted, the call of Jesus to follow after him goes beyond the practice of Jewish teachers or rabbis. There are no stories of a Jewish teacher calling disciples to follow him. On the contrary, people chose to follow famous teachers on their own accord (cf. b. ‘Erub. 30a; b. Ketub. 66b). Hengel therefore proposes that Jesus’ call resembles that of a charismatic or revolutionary leader, summoning people to a revolutionary war.58 However, this notion has to be read into the narrative, as there is no explicit mention of it. Indeed, what differentiates Jesus’ call from that issued by Jewish revolutionaries is that he included a promise of transformation (v. 17). With reference to the call story of Elisha (1 Kings 19:19–21), it may be argued that the persona adopted by Jesus is that of a prophet and not a teacher. But Mark will soon describe Jesus as a teacher (1:21)! What is more important is to observe that Mark portrays Jesus’ call as absolutely authoritative, as those summoned dropped their vocational tasks “immediately.” Hence, we may conclude that while parallel call-stories offer insights into the meaning of the present story, it should not be used to limit the possibilities.

What does being made fishers of men mean (v. 17)? Jesus is possibly using a memorable word-play. Surprisingly, all the uses of this image in the OT are ominous, for they speak of divine judgment (Jer 16:16; Ezek 29:4–6; Amos 4:2; Hab 1:14–17). This does not seem to fit with the general drift of Mark’s presentation of Jesus’ ministry, especially his announcing the good news of God. Could the gospel message also entail judgment? And would the disciples help in the realization of that? Whatever the precise meaning, the summoned disciples would certainly be embarking on a new vocation that would touch the destiny of human beings.

We offer, finally, some interesting observations about the first disciples. The first named, Simon, will be given the nickname Peter later (3:16), indicating the key role he will play. His name is always mentioned first in groupings (3:16; 5:37; 9:2; 13:3; 14:33). Accordingly, he often functions as the spokesman for the disciples. We may also expect him to be the older brother of Andrew, since he is named first in that pair (v. 16). Simon, James, and John together form the inner circle, and become the privileged audience of Jesus’ special miracles and revelation (5:37; 9:2; 14:33).

Jesus’ Teaching and Miracles (1:21–34)

Mark introduces his readers to yet another important locality in Jesus’ Galilean ministry: Capernaum (v. 21). The name in Hebrew means “village of Nahum.” According to Josephus, it was prosperous and had a thriving fishing industry (War 3:516–21). This explains why a toll-booth was set up in its vicinity (2:1; 14). A detachment of Roman troops was also stationed there (cf. Matt 8:5–13), further indicating its importance. It was also Peter and Andrew’s village (1:29), and probably the center of Jesus’ Galilean ministry (see 2:1; 9:33; Matt 8:5–17 || Luke 7:1–10).

The first miracle story of Mark takes place on a Sabbath and it concerns both word and deed: these are described as being performed with unrivalled authority (vv. 22, 27). The comparison with the scribes to the latter’s detriment prepares Mark’s readers for more stories about the conflict between Jesus and the scribes later on (2:6, 16; 11:27).

The appearance of a demon-possessed man in the synagogue (v. 23) sets the stage for the introduction of one hallmark of Jesus’ ministry: his exorcistic work. Three other accounts of exorcism are given in 5:1–20; 7:24–30; and 9:14–29. Mention of such an activity is also found in summaries or general reports such as 1:32–34; 1:39; 3:11–12, and in the Beelzeboul controversy of 3:22–30. All this indicates how important the motif is. Although there was much interest in exorcism in the Mediterranean world around the time of Jesus, there were actually very few exorcistic narratives available and very few exorcists named.59 This scarcity throws into bold relief the frequent depiction of Jesus as an exorcist.

Exorcistic practices of Jesus’ day are often referred to by scholars for understanding better his exorcism. Accordingly, the mention of Jesus’ identity (v. 24) is construed as the demon’s attempt to gain power over him, and Jesus’ silencing word (v. 25) becomes his countermove to regain the initiative.60 As interesting as such parallels may be, they fail to explain what Mark is doing. In all his exorcism stories there is no power struggle but the simple giving of a command, uncluttered by techniques or incantations. The exclamation of the crowds that his teaching (i.e., shown by exorcism) is new and authoritative (v. 27), says just as much.

Jesus is addressed as “the Holy One of God” (v. 24). A similar title is used in the OT for Aaron (Ps 106:16), Elisha (2 Kings 4:9), and possibly Samson (a variant reading of Judg 16:17 in the LXX). Judging from these occurrences, the title’s meaning may simply be that a certain person has been set apart for some special ministry. But Mark’s portrayal of Jesus, while certainly containing this notion, also goes beyond it. He shows how Jesus, as the bearer of the Holy Spirit, drives out uncleanness. In this respect, it may be instructive to note the passages in the Dead Sea Scrolls that speak of the eschatological elimination of ritual impurity by “the holy Messiah” (1Q30) and by God’s holy Spirit (1QS 4:18–23). This testifies to the Jewish belief that only at the eschaton can all forms of uncleanness be rooted out of Israel by an agent of God who bears the Spirit.

There are some other significant points that bear mentioning so as to complete this Markan motif. The first is that Mark usually describes the demons as unclean (pneumata akatharta), indicating what sort of framework we are to use to understand these stories. The issue of ritual uncleanness looms large in Mark’s Gospel (1:40–45; 6:25–34; 7:1–23). Ritual uncleanness separates the affected from the corporate life of the nation of Israel. In the case of demon possession, not only is the person unclean, he is also controlled by what is antagonistic to God. Hence, being exorcised meant that he was liberated to belong to God and to participate in the corporate life of his people.

Secondly, the exorcism leads the crowd to exclaim that Jesus has taught with authority (v. 27). This signifies that Jesus’ activities of teaching and exorcism cannot be divorced from each other, as his word and deed are intimately related. His exorcism is in a profound sense also his teaching.

Thirdly, it is the exorcism that leads the crowd to introduce the adjective “new” to describe Jesus’ teaching with authority. The word “new” is significant, as it points to eschatological newness. The demons’ fear of being destroyed supports this proposal, as it shows they do not regard Jesus as any ordinary exorcist. Early Jewish and Rabbinic thought locates the destruction of demons at the eschaton (see Pesiq. R. 36:1 where the agent is the Messiah; Num. Rab. 19.8; cf. Zech 13.2). This fits in with the eschatological horizon of Jesus’ gospel proclamation (1:15), with the added implication that the kingdom of God has invaded the territories long held by demonic forces. There is therefore a Markan escalation in the two confessions of the crowds (1:22; 1:27) which incidentally forms an inclusio (bracket).

Fourthly, the authority by which Jesus performs exorcisms is absolute. This was mentioned earlier but it bears repeating. Jesus does not use formulas or incantations, or make appeal to God’s word. A simple command is issued and there is no tussle. Perhaps this is the significance of the crowd’s confession that ends the story: “He commands even the unclean spirits and they obey him” (1:27).

Fifthly, the demon reveals the true identity of Jesus. Thus far, the true identity of Jesus has not been fully revealed to or discerned by people. The voice that spoke in 1:11 was probably meant only for Jesus to hear. Indeed, Mark’s narrative has this characteristic: demonic forces know Jesus’ identity but people continue to puzzle over it.

Finally, Jesus commands silence. Why? It may be that unclean entities are not allowed to confess the identity of clean entities. More probably, it is part and parcel of an important theme in Mark: the theme of secrecy. Mark will narrate many stories hereafter exhibiting a similar phenomenon. Why this is so will be clarified only when the whole Gospel has been read.

Once the tone is set, Mark goes on to show another aspect of Jesus’ ministry: healing (vv. 29–31). Interestingly, the healing is performed on Peter’s mother-in-law, to rid her of fever. By a simple grasping of her hand, Jesus raises her from bed (v. 31). Upon being healed, she serves Jesus and his company. Some scholars detect here a paradigm for discipleship.61 The raising of Peter’s mother-in-law is analogous to resurrection from spiritual death, and her immediate service to Jesus sets the example for later believers: they are raised so as to serve.

Widening of Jesus’ Ministry (1:35–39)

The story hints at Jesus’ prayer-life (the Greek imperfect prosēucheto suggests habitual praying). Mark mentions three times that Jesus prays, and these reports are made at important moments of his ministry: here at the beginning of his ministry; in 6:46 after the feeding of the 5,000 (John 6:15 tells us the crowds want to make Jesus king because of this miracle); and in 14:32–42, where the Father’s will is affirmed and unswervingly followed in the Garden of Gethsemane.

The description of Jesus’ praying, the comment of Peter and Jesus’ response may be seen as a whole. Through prayer the temptation of reveling in a celebrity status is preempted, and one’s calling from God is affirmed and strengthened. Hence, instead of meeting those who were so desirous of seeing him, Jesus declares the one reason for his having come is to preach the gospel. This must mean leaving Capernaum—even if he was treated as a celebrity there—in order to go to other villages which have yet to hear his message. Through this cameo, Mark achieves elegantly his purpose of portraying the spread of Jesus ministry. At the same time he explains what this ministry is all about: not self-aggrandizement (we will see later how important such a theme is to Mark), but the propagating of the gospel of God.

Healing of the Leper (1:40–45)

With this story Mark hints at the religious ramifications of Jesus’ ministry, especially his healings, and how these may lead to conflict with the religious authorities.

What is known as leprosy in the Bible is not Hansen’s disease. Instead the term is used to refer to a variety of skin diseases. Leviticus 13:45–46 shows the lengths to which someone afflicted with it has to go to avoid contaminating others: he had to wear torn clothes, leave his hair unkempt, wear a mask to cover the lower part of his face, and cry out, “Unclean! Unclean!” in order to ward people off. He also had to live in colonies, separated from society. More burdensome was the religious meaning of such a dreaded disease. It was regarded as incurable, being a result of God’s judgment (see Num 12:9–15; 2 Chron 26:16–21; cf. also the telling remark in 2 Kings 5:7). Such a person could not appear before God in the Temple. With this background, we can understand the desperation that drove the leper to meet Jesus and thus violate some social customs. Instead of standing afar and calling to Jesus, this leper goes to him, falls poignantly on his knees and beseeches Jesus to heal him (v. 40).

Jesus shows his compassion (see excursus) and does the surprising thing by touching him, thus breaking a taboo. Moreover, Jesus declares him clean. To show the efficacy of Jesus’ declaration, Mark uses his favorite word “immediately.” If Jesus can declare someone clean, what becomes the role of the priest, since in the OT he is the only one who can pronounce a leper clean (Lev 13:2–6)? With this, we come to the ominous note in vv. 43–44.

Excursus: Was Jesus Incensed or Compassionate?

The attitude of Jesus towards this breaking of an important social custom is occluded by a textual uncertainty: whether Jesus was incensed or compassionate (v. 41). Many commentators choose to follow the reading orgistheis,62 found in manuscript D (Codex Bezae) and supported by some old Latin manuscripts. Their decision is based mainly on the consideration that it is the harder reading and splanchnistheis63 is therefore to be construed as introduced by later scribes to ameliorate a difficult reading. The reading adopted by NA28 (splanchnistheis) and followed by the NRSV is not without its strengths. First of all, an overwhelming majority of manuscripts support this reading. This weight of external attestation, which is early and wide, should not be easily dismissed. Secondly, D is a rather eccentric manuscript.64 When D is the only Greek manuscript that offers support, we should be wary of the reading. Thirdly, elsewhere in Mark 3:5 and 10:14, the potentially embarrassing description of Jesus’ anger has not been tampered with in the manuscript tradition. If scribes purportedly introduced an “easier” reading at 1:41 because of the potentially embarrassing reference to Jesus’ anger, one would have expected them to do the same in the later two passages. But this did not happen. Finally, orgistheis could be the “easier” reading after all, in that it chimes in better with embrimēsamenos65 just two verses down. We will adopt the reading splanchnistheis in our commentary.

The word embrimaomai in v. 43 is often used to describe the uncontrollable rage or fury of animals. Why is this word used of Jesus? Was it the failure of the leper to follow an express order that Jesus in his prescience saw? Was it the ravages of disease? Was it the temple authorities? Mark does not tell us, but what may be instructive here is to think of the narrative function of such a tantalizing description of Jesus’ emotion. Mark is probably foreshadowing unpleasant conflict to come in his narrative. The phrase “testimony to them” (v. 44) may be discussed in this connection. The word “them” may possibly bring together Moses and the priest to form one group. More probably, it refers to the entire group of priests, without implicating Moses.66 What is more crucial is the determination of the force of the Greek dative autois. Is it to be construed as a dative of advantage (i.e., “to them”) or disadvantage (i.e., “against them”)? If it is the former, the testimony is meant to show that all the regulations of the priests have been complied with (see Lev 13–14).67 If the latter, the testimony is meant to indict them.68 The two other occurrences of such a phrase in Mark are found in 6:11 and 13:9, and they are all used in contexts of opposition. This prompts us to treat the dative here as a dative of disadvantage. So the healing of the leper becomes damning evidence either for the priests’ unbelief in Jesus’ ministry (but Mark has not said anything about this yet) or the failure (whoever these people are) to effect true purity in Israel.

Why is there a need for silence in v. 44? The next verse gives the effect of the leper’s failure to keep Jesus’ injunction, and this may be regarded as a partial explanation of Jesus’ charge: the resultant publicity prevented Jesus from entering villages openly. However, it has also been suggested that Jesus does not want to be misconstrued as challenging the Temple authorities, since it is their function to make ritual purity possible.69 But such a proposal is problematic, because the priest does not play the role of a miracle worker but a certifier. Accordingly, Jesus’ healing would not have been perceived as challenging the priest’s authority. It may be better to look at the immediate Markan context, and at the larger interest Mark has in Jesus’ commands to silence (i.e., the secrecy motif).70 As the Markan narrative unfolds, it will be seen that this motif has an important theological function. The meaning of Jesus’ identity and ministry (incorporating here the spectacular healings and miracles) can only be grasped fully in the light of the cross.

Conflict with Religious Authorities (2:1—3:6)

Up to this stage, Mark has shown the reader the critical significance of Jesus’ ministry. He has also narrated the increasing popularity of Jesus. However, Jesus does not have the requisite social credentials. This sets the stage for conflict. Mark 2:1—3:6 brings together five controversy stories to paint with a broad brush the key issues between Jesus and the religious leaders. These stories also foreshadow the final conflict in Jerusalem.

Mark uses structural devices, so as to help his audience better to appreciate and remember the critical points. An influential proposal suggests that a concentric (chiastic) structure may be found. In this scheme, the first story corresponds with the last, or fifth in this case, the second with the fourth, and the third stands as the center piece (see Diagram 1).71 The center piece reveals the real cause for the disagreements between Jesus and the religious leaders (i.e., the coming of the new demands and the abandoning of the old).

The correspondence between the first and the fifth, the second and the fourth, appears to be forced, as the main points of the stories lie elsewhere. A linear structure is more cogent. The first will then be linked with the second by the theme of sin and forgiveness, the third stands alone as the center and explanatory piece.72 The fourth and the fifth correspond through the Sabbath theme (see Diagram 2).

There also appears to be an intensification of hostility as the stories progress, climaxing in the plot to put Jesus to death by widely-divergent groups.

Healing of the Paralytic 2:1–12

This first conflict story may be regarded as setting the tone for the other conflict stories. The main issue between Jesus and the religious authorities revolves around his claims, which they think threatened their inherited traditions. In some ways, the story also foreshadows the final conflict with the religious authorities in Jerusalem. In the passage about the Jewish hearing of Jesus (14:55–65), the twin themes of blasphemy and the Son of Man are found (14:62, 64), just as they are in this episode. Notably, Jesus refers to himself as the “Son of Man” for the first time. This is Jesus’ preferred way of referring to himself, and carries important christological freight.

Capernaum is the setting. Depending on how the Greek phrase en oikō (v. 1) is construed, it may refer either to Jesus’ home73 (so NRSV) or Peter’s house (cf. 1:29).74 As usual, a crowd gathers. Roofs of houses in first-century Galilee might be reached easily by the wooden ladder outside.75 Since they were thatched and made of mud, they could be dug through easily. Such an inconsiderate act would usually have led to angry reprisals, but Mark does not tell us the reaction of the crowd or the owner of the house because his focus is elsewhere. We may assume that the paralytic was participatory in the initiative to seek Jesus. Hence, Mark tells us that Jesus sees their (i.e., the whole group) faith, but speaks to the paralytic (v. 5).

Jesus’ response in v. 5 appears somewhat inappropriate, but it becomes comprehensible when we bear in mind the biblical assumptions that (i) the greater problem bedeviling humanity is their estrangement from God (i.e., sin); and (ii) sin and sickness may be related. The latter is amply attested in the literature of the ancient world and the OT (e.g., Deut 28:27; Ps 107:17–18). A rabbinic saying runs: “A sick person does not arise from his sickness until all his sins are forgiven him” (b. Ned. 41a). Hence, healing and forgiveness often intersect (e.g., Ps 41:3–4; 103:3; Isa 38:17; 53:4–6).76 However, this is not always the case (cf. John 9:2–3), as there may be other factors at work.

Jesus’ speech caught the attention of the scribes. These were people of letters, as the Greek grammateus makes clear. However, in the Jewish context, the primary body of learning was the Torah, and hence, scribes in Mark’s Gospel were people who knew and taught the Torah.77 From their point of view, only God can forgive sins.78 So they criticize Jesus inwardly: “He’s blaspheming” (v. 7). To be sure, the priest has been given the role to pronounce God’s forgiveness through the rituals of the Temple. But it is unlikely Jesus is challenging the Temple here.79 In fact, as the drift of the narrative indicates, Jesus’ pronouncement is deemed to have arrogated to himself the sole prerogative of God.80

Blasphemy in the OT is a capital offense (Lev 24:10–16). Although there was no technical definition of what constituted blasphemy in Jesus’ day, the extant Jewish evidence connects it to speaking against God, pronouncing his unique name or claiming the unique prerogatives of God (m. Sanh. 7:5).81 Forgiveness of sins is one such prerogative (Exod 34:6–7; Isa 43:25; 44:22). This is reinforced continually through the annual Yom Kippur festival. However, there may be one instance where forgiveness of sins is attributed to a human being. In a fragment from the Qumran caves (4Q242), it is said that a Jewish diviner (or exorcist?) forgave Nabonidus’s sin. Because of its fragmentary nature, its meaning remains highly debated.82 Alternatively, this fragment may be regarded as the exception that proves the rule. All this means the religious leaders’ response in Mark is historically credible.

Mark’s phrase ei mē heis ho theos (v. 7) should be translated “except ‘God is one’.” This clumsy construction serves to make reference to the Shema (Deut 6:4–5), which functions somewhat like a Jewish creed. The Shema confesses that for Israel there is only one God, and she is to love this one God with her entire being.83 From the way the Markan narrative is set up, Jesus’ claim is interpreted by the scribes to have transgressed the sacred boundaries of their confession of one God. Jesus is therefore regarded as having put himself in an equal position with that one God. The Shema, therefore, should be the frame of reference for understanding this controversy.

Jesus’ reply to the scribe’s unspoken accusation (v. 9) has puzzled many readers. It is often assumed Jesus wants to demonstrate that it is easier to talk (i.e., to pronounce forgiveness of sins) than to act (i.e., perform a healing),84 but is there more than meets the eye? Furthermore, it is puzzling that Jesus would seek to demonstrate his authority to forgive by healing, since the ability to work miracles was not understood as proving that one possessed the special prerogative of God. As the narrative plays itself out, Jesus does not answer which is easier, but proceeds to demonstrate his authority by healing. Perhaps the way forward is to think of Jesus as conveying the notion that the healing and the offer of forgiveness are regarded as closely integrated, and not dichotomized. Both are beyond human ability, and come only as a gracious gift from God. This falls in line with much prophetic expectation, where the concept of eschatological shalom involves both reconciliation and renewal (Jer 33:6–9; Hos 2:16–23). But for those who have eyes only for the tangible, the healing will speak to them.

There is also an implicit challenge to the scribes’ theological understanding. If Jesus has indeed blasphemed by usurping God’s authority, how could he have healed, since God is presumably the one behind the healing?

The phrase “Son of Man” is used in Mark’s Gospel for the first time in v. 10. Much has been discussed about this title;85 we offer here just a summary of the key proposals, and indicate the stance taken.86 This phrase has been understood as a circumlocution for “I,” as referring to generic man or to an indefinite man, or even to a special class of men. It has also been understood as a messianic title. The view adopted here is that in its Aramaic form it can refer to man in general. In Dan 7:13, however, the phrase (without the article) is used poetically to contrast the beasts representing the earthly empires with the human figure that stands for God’s purpose and kingdom. Because of the importance of the book of Daniel in Jewish speculation on the end time, this literary figure is often utilized to speak of the climax of the kingdom story and the deliverance of God’s beleaguered people. In fact in the Similitudes of Enoch (1 En 37–71, dating unsure)87 and 4 Ezra (post AD 70), this figure is regarded as the Messiah. What all this means is that Dan 7:13 becomes the seedbed for the understanding of the role of the Son of Man in some circles, and may thus add new possibilities to an ordinary phrase.

With this serving as background, we can then argue: (1) that Jesus uses this designation to refer to himself (always with the definite article);88 (2) that he may have in mind the figure of Dan 7:13 as the exposition of the meaning of his ministry; (3) that such a term does not automatically convey the above idea, as the ordinary usage may refer to man in general; (4) that Jesus sees fit to remain ambiguous for important reasons; (5) that he sometimes also pours in new content to the meaning of the phrase such that even the usage of Dan 7:13–14 cannot fully explain it; and (6) that there is a profound convergence between his kingdom message and his self-understanding, because in both instances, hiddenness/ambiguity is a characteristic which could only be penetrated by faith. This is precisely how Mark presents Jesus, and it will be demonstrated as his narrative progresses.

To be sure, Dan 7:13–14 does not mention the authority to forgive sins. However, since the Son of Man is the figure who brings an end to the dominions of the world and unleashes the eschatological age, it is not difficult to extend this further to suppose he may be connected with the reconciliation between God and his people, a concept within which forgiveness is to be understood.

Without allowing the details to cloud the main point, we may say this controversy story highlights a major aspect of Jesus’ work: the forgiveness of sins. What has troubled Israel throughout her checkered history, namely the problem of sin, may potentially be resolved by Jesus. That said, we must not miss how the story is presented. Some scribes perceive Jesus’ actions as arrogating to himself the unique prerogative of God. There is no attempt on the part of Jesus either to clarify this or to avoid being misunderstood. Every dutiful Jew would have the obligation to do so when it concerns so important a tenet of the community as the Shema. Instead, Jesus provokes the scribes further by claiming to have the authority, as the Son of Man, to forgive sins, and backs it up with healing. The exclamation of the crowd serves, then, to highlight Jesus’ uniqueness (v. 12). So an implicit question is raised. It is not about Jesus’ status vis-à-vis the Temple. Instead, it is about his claims and the one God confessed in Israel’s Shema.

Improper Table Fellowship (2:13–17)

From the theme of the Son of Man’s authority to forgive sins, Mark moves on to show how Jesus receives sinners, especially the tax collectors. This controversy story contains no miracles, and it is often known as a pronouncement story because the main point of the story is found in the pronouncement given at the end.

Since Galilee was ruled by a client king supported by Rome, the toll envisaged here must have been collected for Herod Antipas’s government. This toll is not to be equated with the poll tax (cf. 12:13–17) or land tax which was paid directly to Rome and collected by royal officials in the case of Galilee. Rather, the toll was levied on goods or for the right of passage.89 As the Sea of Galilee was teeming with fish, Levi’s toll collection probably came mainly from the fishing trade. The collection of these indirect taxes was farmed out to the highest bidder, and such privatization often resulted in overcharging: to cover possible future losses, to receive remuneration for enterprise, or simply because of greed. In the Talmud, toll-collectors are lumped together with murderers and robbers (m. Ned. 3:4). Moreover, their frequent contacts with the Gentiles exposed them to ritual defilement (so m. Tohar. 7:6), and their work, which helped support the conqueror, earned them the label of quislings. Hence, Jesus’ calling a toll collector to follow him is highly significant.

Levi’s prompt response (v. 14) recalls that of Jesus’ first disciples in 1:16–20. Based on the parallel in Matt 9:9, it is often concluded that Levi is Matthew, who is also mentioned in the list of apostles in Mark 3:18 (cf. Matt 10:3, where Matthew is called a toll collector in the list).90

A meal ensues and two things may be said about it. First, the venue is ambiguous (v. 15). The Greek en tē oikia could refer either to Jesus’ house or to Levi’s house. Since Luke 5:29 tells us it is Levi who prepares the feast, the latter is to be preferred. Secondly, this is not an ordinary meal because of the posture adopted. The Greek word katakeimai means to recline. This posture is adopted among Jews only for feasts or formal celebrations, such as the Passover.91 Otherwise they sit for meals.

The scribes belonging to the Pharisaic party (see excursus) have questions over Jesus’ dining with toll collectors and sinners (v. 16), presumably because such people were not scrupulous about ritual purity, or many other regulations of the Torah. Moreover, to eat with someone in ancient times often meant to be identified and reconciled with him. Hence, Jesus’ eating with the wrong company suggests he has no reservation about being identified with such people, and may convey the scandalous message that God accepts them.

Excursus: The Pharisees

The general consensus is that Pharisees were certainly not people who were simply “keeping up appearances.” The term probably comes from the Hebrew pa¯rûš, which means “separated one,” and was probably first coined by their opponents. According to Josephus, the Pharisees were one of four major sects (the others being the Sadducees, the Essenes, and what Josephus calls “the Fourth Philosophy,” who were probably the Zealots; see Josephus War 2:162–66 and Antiquities 13:171–73; 18:11–25). They were accorded the high honor of being accurate interpreters of Torah. Their origins remain shrouded in mystery but they were active in the two centuries straddling the beginning of the Common Era. Comprising mainly lay members, they nevertheless exercised powerful pressure on Jewish religion and policy. Their aim was to purify Israel through an intensified observance of Torah, inspired by the tradition of the elders, so the nation would be prepared for God’s promised return. So they set up what might be termed as “eating fellowships” so as to eat food in a state of purity, befitting that of the Temple. This concern for purity was not regarded simply as an inward form of piety, since the Pharisees were also linked with revolts (notably Saddok in the revolt of AD 6; see Josephus Antiquities 18:4). Purity could also be a political issue.92

Jesus identifies his mission in a proverb-like statement93: to restore sinners. It also implies that offering help to those who do not need it is futile. Understood this way, the term “righteous” is in the statement primarily as a kind of rhetorical counterpart to the “sinners.” It does not suggest Jesus thinks the Pharisees are really righteous.94

Incompatibility between the Old and the New (2:18–22)

Being the centerpiece of the collection of five controversy stories, the story contains the explanation of the key issue between Jesus and the religious authorities. The feasting theme is still maintained (as it is in the second story) through the implicit reference to a wedding banquet (v. 19). Jesus disciples’ lack of fasting sets them in contrast with the Pharisees and the disciples of John the Baptist, and this engendered a controversy.

The only fast prescribed in the Torah is connected with Yom Kippur or the Day of Atonement (Lev 16:29–31; 23:26–29). By the post-exilic period, a few other fasts were added to the national calendar (cf. Esth 9:31; Zech 8:19). Individuals might choose to fast whenever they deemed it necessary, such as to show piety and penitence. But such fasts were not placed in the same category as the prescribed national fasts. According to Luke 18:12, the Pharisees fasted twice in a week, and from other evidence we know this to be on Mondays and Thursdays (cf. Did. 81; m. Ta‘an. 14:5; b. Ta‘an. 10a). There is also evidence to show that the Pharisees and other Jews might have connected their fasting with the hastening of the eschaton (b. Sanh. 97b-98a; Life of Josephus 290; cf. Zech 8:19; 1 Sam 7:6; 1 Macc. 3:47, where fasts are performed to bring about victory in a holy war). Against this background we can understand the concern of the Pharisees, and why Jesus defends his disciples’ lack of fasting with the sort of illustrations he uses. The issue is not about the prescribed national fasts, but those undertaken personally to show penitence and hasten the coming of the eschaton.95

On the surface, Jesus seems to be using a common-sense analogy (i.e., fasting should not take place at weddings [v. 19]). However, there is a deeper meaning to this analogy. The climax of God’s restoration of the nation is expressed in Isaiah as a wedding (Isa 62:5). God, the bridegroom, will marry the land, or Zion, which means restoration for the nation. There are also other passages in the Prophets that describe God’s relationship with Israel, using the marital metaphor (Hos 2; Ezek 16; Jer 2:2; Isa 54:5). These passages presuppose a rupture in this relationship, brought about by Israel’s disobedience. Consequently, the repair of this rupture may be pictured as (another) wedding. Such a picture is also found at the climax of the book of Revelation (Rev 19:7–8; 21:1–3, 9–10).

The background clarifies why Jesus chooses the wedding metaphor. The point is that, through his ministry, the long-anticipated climax of God’s relationship with Israel has now come to pass. It is possible that the bridegroom refers to Jesus.96 What is notable is that there is no evidence of the Messiah’s being described as the bridegroom in Jewish literature before the sixth century AD (the first attestation is found in Pesiq. R. 37:2).97 Hence, the metaphor is not messianic. Instead, it implies that Jesus puts himself on par with the one God of Israel.98

What would the departure of the bridegroom mean (v. 20)? Clearly, it signals the end of festivity. What event is envisaged as corresponding to it? Usually this is believed to be Jesus’ departure, which would reintroduce the practice of fasting for his followers. It is equally possible, however, that it refers to divine abandonment, if we bear in mind the rich meaning of the nuptial metaphor in the OT. Being Jews, the disciples will share in the pain of the nation of Israel. The one possible event that is being referred to would be the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70. Perhaps the originator of this saying intentionally kept it ambiguous.

The nuptial metaphor is followed by two pictures that speak of incompatibility (vv. 21–22). New cloth in ancient times was unshrunk, unlike old cloth which had been shrunk through repeated washings. Patching an old garment with new cloth only adds to the problem. This notion of incompatibility extends to wineskins. New wine is still fermenting and produces carbon dioxide. This causes the wineskins to swell. New wineskins can take this pressure but not old wineskins because they have become brittle with age. So this centerpiece in the collection of five controversy stories points out the incompatibility of old practices with the arrival of the new. As such, it hints at what the real issue is between the religious authorities and Jesus: whether they would accept that the new or eschatological has come in Jesus’ ministry.

Plucking Grain on a Sabbath (2:23–28)

With the fourth controversy story, a new issue is presented, which is about the Sabbath. The occasion is the plucking of grain by Jesus’ disciples to satisfy their hunger (v. 23). The Pharisees regard the disciples’ action as work (v. 24), and this sparks a controversy between them and Jesus. Jesus defends his disciples by appealing to an OT precedent (vv. 25–26), concluding with a pronouncement on the real meaning of the Sabbath (vv. 27–28).

The Sabbath commandment was first given in Exodus 20:10 and it serves as a pointer both to creation (Gen 2:2–3) and to the Exodus. In this respect it may also be regarded as a sign of the covenant, reminding the Jews of their covenantal status. Crassly understood, it forbids work on that day, but when it is set within the framework of creation and Exodus, it should also be viewed positively, such as rest and worship. What sort of activity is regarded as forbidden work, and by what criterion should such a decision be made, have naturally led to some debates among Jews. The Qumran community applied it strictly and forbade even the humanitarian action of helping an animal or a man out of a pit on Sabbath day (CD 11:13–17).

The disciples’ plucking grain to eat reflects the Jewish institution of pe’ah, which has its basis in the Torah (Lev 19:9–10; 23:22; Deut 23:24–25). This was promulgated for the sustenance of the poor and the destitute. At issue in the text is whether the disciples are breaking a Sabbath regulation, as Exod 34:21 expressly forbids reaping on that day. Philo of Alexandria confirms this when he writes (in the first century) that Jews are not allowed to pluck fruit or cut any tree or plant on the Sabbath (Life of Moses 2.22; cf. the rabbinic pronouncement in m. Sab. 7:2). So the controversy is not over whether Jesus’ disciples could feed themselves on a Sabbath day, but over what they were doing to feed themselves.

Jesus defends his disciples’ actions by appealing to David’s example in 1 Sam 21:1–9. This incident probably took place on a Sabbath day, since the bread was presented before God each Sabbath (Lev 24:8).99 It is clear from 1 Sam 21:1–9 that Ahimelech was the high priest, and not his son Abiathar. Has Mark made a mistake in v. 26?100

Much depends on how the Greek phrase epi Abiathar archiereōs is to be understood, principally the construction epi + genitive. In Mark 12:26 the same epi + genitive construction is found (in this case epi tou batou), which does not mean “upon the burning bush,” but “in the account of the burning bush” (i.e., construing the epi + genitive as having locative force). So Mark may then be regarded as meaning “in the section of scripture having to do with Abiathar”101 in the present passage. Even so, it is hard to understand how 1 Sam 21 may be regarded as a passage featuring Abiathar the high priest. He is not even mentioned.

A second possibility is to translate the epi + genitive construction as “at the time of” (i.e., construing the epi + genitive as having temporal force), but to think of the title as being given prospectively.102 This will result in the translation “in the days of Abiathar, who later became the high priest,” just as we might say the Queen was born in such and such a time, when she was not actually queen at her birth. If the objection is raised that Abiathar’s name is not mentioned in the account, it may then be answered that Jews remembered him better because of his connection with David and with the first Temple. All this may smack of special pleading, because if there were no historical problem in the first place, every reader would have construed Mark as saying that David met Abiathar the high priest. Perhaps the best that we can do now is to say the jury is still out on this question.

What is more important is the point of comparison that Jesus hopes to make. The regulations governing the consecrated bread are found in Exod 25:30 and Lev 24:5–9. The point of comparison can either be that of (a) human needs justify the infringement of Torah regulations;103 or that (b) an anointed royal figure has the authority to override them.104 What is common to both cases is that there is precedence in Scripture for the overriding of a Torah regulation. As the latter point carries an important christological freight, we will explicate it further. Just as David was not condemned for performing something illegal, neither should Jesus be, provided the Pharisees were willing to consider Jesus in the same category. In this light, we may regard Jesus as speaking of his own special status.105 He, like David, is the yet-to-be-fully recognized (i.e., enthroned) king, and can dispense with a sacred regulation in order to sustain life: the life of his disciples.

Jesus’ pronouncement in v. 27 makes the lesson clear. It explains what has priority. Some Jewish writings state a similar viewpoint (Jub. 2:17; 2 Bar. 14:18; b. Yoma 85b). Perhaps the most relevant is that from the Melkita on Exodus 31:14: “The Sabbath is handed over to you, not you to it,” which means God’s gift of the Sabbath was given not to destroy but to bring about true humanity. However, this principle, while putting things in their proper place, is not meant to teach that any human being can decide when sacred regulations may be dispensed with. So the next pronouncement is needed to complete the thought (v. 28).

“Man” (v. 27) and the “son of man” (v. 28) may be construed as synonyms. But no Jew will accept that human beings in general may be the lords of the Sabbath.106 So this wordplay should be regarded as pointing to something more significant. If the Sabbath is made for men, then the divinely appointed ruler of true humanity, who is described as “one who is like a son of man” in Daniel 7, must have the authority to decide when this Sabbath regulation may be dispensed with in the wider interest of humanity. Much has been discussed on the meaning of the Greek connective ōste. It is possible to regard it as a loose transition.107 Alternatively, we may posit Mark’s editorial hand is at work here108 (i.e., he is drawing the conclusion from the story for his audience).

This second usage of the “Son of Man” phrase gels very well with the first (2:10). Twice the phrase is used in connection with prerogatives belonging solely to God: the forgiving of sins, which also mean the transgression of divine regulations, and the Lord of such regulations, especially the Sabbath. The “Son of Man” phrase therefore carries very significant christological freight for Mark.

Healing on a Sabbath (3:1–6)

The final controversy story in the cycle is again over the Sabbath, but the locality is now the synagogue (v. 1). As this is the final story, Mark makes it clear that deep animosity has taken root. The religious leaders are no longer interested in explanations, but are simply looking for a cause to condemn Jesus (v. 2).

The question of v. 4 is full of irony and, not surprisingly, unanswered. If one may synthesize from the Mishnah and the Talmud, it may be inferred that some Jews believed saving lives overrode the Sabbath (m. Yoma 8:6; b. Yoma 85b). For illnesses which were not life-threatening, however, they might not be treated (m. Sab. 14:3–4; cf. CD 11:9–10).109

The Greek behind “stubborn hearts” (v. 5) is pōrōsis tēs kardias, which is derived from the Hebrew šĕrirût lēb and means literally “hardness of heart.” This description is typically used of Pharaoh (Exod 4:21; 7:3; 8:32; 14:4), and is often found in prophetic denunciations of the nation of Judah just before the exile (Jer 3:17; 7:24; 9:14; 11:8; 13:10; 16:12; cf. Deut 29:18; Ps 81:15). This description is now applied to Jesus’ opponents. There is irony here. The charge of being stubborn and hard-hearted is a typical prophetic charge against the Israel of old. Now it is applied to those who claimed to know better, and should know better, being religious leaders (3:5). The prophets’ audience were Torah breakers but Jesus’ audience are supposedly Torah upholders. All the poignant lessons of the exile appeared to have an opposite effect on those who lead.

It is astonishing that the Pharisees and the Herodians can collude together (v. 6), but nothing brings enemies together like having a common archenemy. The term “Herodians” denotes probably not a religious sect but the supporters of the ruling dynasty of Herod110 (cf. War 1:319, where a similar term is used), which was not Jewish but Idumean, and was in place only because of Rome. This was a dynasty which was resisted by the Pharisees (cf. Josephus Antiquities 17:41–47; War 1:571).

Mark’s Achievement with this Cycle of Stories

Within a short span of narrative, Mark succeeds in showing what the key issues between Jesus and the religious authorities are, and what the central reason behind them all is. This will prepare Mark’s readers for the rest of his Gospel, where resistance will be evident and culminates with the crucifixion of Jesus. So a pale shadow has fallen over Jesus’ ministry. All is not well, even when stupendous deeds of healing and restoration are performed. Why? Mark reminds his listeners that it is due to a hardness of heart, the same condition which led to Pharaoh’s destruction and Israel’s exile, a theme that will be picked up again in chapter 4.

We must not forget, however, that all this actually serves as a foil to a more important theme at work—Jesus’ identity. He performs deeds that put him on the side of the one God of Israel. The use of the Son of Man designation exhibits this phenomenon. Introduced for the first time in the first controversy story, and repeated again in the fourth, it resonates with prerogatives that are uniquely God’s. In this light, all the controversies boil down to the question of who Jesus is, and what he claims to be doing in relation to Israel’s covenantal story.

Summary of Jesus’ Deeds (3:7–12)

This Markan summary presents Jesus’ typical activities (teaching and miraculous deeds), the typical venue (by the lake, often on a boat), and the typical responses (of crowds and demons). While performing a transitional function,111 it also carries the plot forward. Verse 7 speaks of a withdrawal of Jesus and his disciples to the lake, and this is appropriate as a response to the controversial atmosphere of the previous cycle of stories (2:1—3:6). Not only this, a large crowd follows Jesus, indicating his rising popularity, and perhaps serving as a contrasting picture to the response of the religious authorities. Some in the crowd come from faraway places such as Tyre and Sidon, perhaps preparing the reader for the story of 7:24–30. So great is this crowd that Jesus has to use a boat to prevent the people from crowding him. With this description, Mark introduces a new vehicle of Jesus’ ministry (v. 9). He would frequently be in a boat, teaching large crowds gathered at the shore of the Sea of Galilee, and moving across that lake with the same boat. Indeed, Mark will later narrate interesting incidents involving this boat (4:35–39; 6:45–52).

Jesus’ encounters with unclean spirits continue, with a recurrent pattern: these spirits know the true identity of Jesus but they are commanded to be silent. But this time round, the confession made by the unclean spirits is that Jesus is the Son of God (v. 11). Up to this stage, we see that apart from God’s declaration of Jesus’ divine sonship, no other being on earth has acclaimed Jesus to be such, except those possessed by unclean spirits.

The New People of God and Jesus’ True Family (3:13–45)

The material here covers three stories. The first is the appointment of the twelve apostles (3:13–19). The second and third stories strike a different note, as they feature opposition to Jesus. These two stories are integral to each other because one is sandwiched by the other—a story is told partially (3:20–21) before moving on to the next (3:22–30), and then back again to complete it (3:31–35). The opposition depicted comes from Jesus’ family and the scribes. Both groups regard Jesus as “beyond the pale” (mad or demon-possessed). Together the three stories clarify the true members of Jesus’ family.

Making of the Twelve (3:13–19)

The Greek phrase apēlthon pros auton (v. 13) means literally “they departed to him” (i.e., the disciples left a larger parent group to join Jesus). Henceforth, they form a group of specially chosen people, differentiated from the crowds.

To say that Jesus appointed the Twelve does not quite capture the Markan idea (vv. 14–15). The Greek verb used is epoiēsen, and it is best translated as “made,”112 with a possible allusion to the story of creation. Jesus’ action in calling the Twelve is like a new creational act.113 Furthermore, the number Twelve alludes to the twelve tribes of Israel: their formation and promised reconstitution (Isa 49:6; Ezek 45:8; cf. Matt 19:28; Luke 22:30), made urgent by the two deportations from the land in 721 BC (Northern Kingdom) and 586 BC (Southern Kingdom). In this light, the use of such a term to designate his disciples speaks volumes about Jesus’ intention.

The term “apostles” should most probably be understood in the light of the rabbinic concept of the šālîah. This refers to a legal agent who is sent out with the full authority of the sender, to act on his behalf. A memorable sentence captures this concept: “The one sent by a man is as the man himself” (m. Ber. 5:5). The main functions of the apostles are also described (vv. 13–15). First of all, they are to be with him. This defines succinctly what discipleship means. By being with Jesus they can know him intimately and understand his teaching. It also implies that they will be taught things not available to the crowds. From this point onwards, Mark will recount stories where Jesus’ disciples ask questions of Jesus privately, or relate teaching situations involving only the Twelve. Only by being with Jesus can they perform the next two functions: preaching and casting out demons. These are principal features of Jesus’ ministry (1:21–27, 35–39), but they are now inherited by his apostles.

The names of the Twelve are given, with the occasional nicknaming by Jesus. Mark does not explain why this is done. One theory suggests that it has to do with either their character (cf. 9:38; Luke 9:54)114 or the role they would henceforth play (Matt 16:18).115 Simon is nicknamed Peter (v. 16), indicating his foundational role in the early Church. James and John are given the name Boanerges (v. 17). This word is usually explained as a Greek transliteration of the Hebrew benê regeš or benê rōgez. They mean respectively “sons of commotion” or “sons of agitation.” However, “sons of thunder” is not an impossible rendering.116

Three other names deserve some discussion. The passage mentions a certain James, who is the son of Alphaeus (v. 18), but no Levi, who was also called the son of Alphaeus in 2:14. Even if Levi is Matthew, as the parallel in Matt 9:9 tells us, it is still puzzling why this is not clarified. Furthermore, how is Levi related to James the son of Alphaeus? Were they brothers, or did they happen to have fathers with an identical name? Mark does not answer these questions. Perhaps his focus was on the concept and role of the Twelve, rather than their identity, apart from the prominent ones.

Another Simon is mentioned, who is nicknamed kananaios (v. 18). This is certainly not a Greek word, and most scholars think it is a transliteration of the Aramaic qan’ānā’, which means an enthusiast or a patriot.117 If this suggested derivation is correct (cf. Luke 6:15; Acts 1:13), Simon was remembered either as someone who was patriotic to his nation, or perhaps someone who had affinity with the Zealots, a Jewish party that came into prominence during the Jewish war with Rome (AD 66–70). If we are right about the identity of Matthew and this Simon, we then have an interesting coming together of two people who once subscribed to diametrically opposed agendas. One once worked for the Empire, and the other once worked against the Empire. The significant thing is that Jesus brings together people with opposing agendas, and remakes them into the restored people of God.

Completing the list is Judas Iscariot (v. 19). The term “Iscariot” has been explained differently in the scholarly literature. By far the most popular is to split it up into ’îš + qĕriyyôt, which means in Hebrew “the man from Kerioth,” thus indicating Judas’s place of origin.118 We do not know where Kerioth is exactly because there are many places with such a name (cf. Josh 15:25; Jer 41:24). Perhaps this geographical reference is added to differentiate him from another Judas (cf. John 14:22). The other serious possibility is to construe the Greek as being derived from a semitized form of the Latin sicarius, which means a bandit or a freedom fighter.119 If this is correct, Judas may then be regarded as joining the movement of Jesus because he thought he would be overthrowing the Romans to give Israel political freedom. When this idea was finally disabused, he betrayed him. This is a clever hypothesis but the derivation appears too complicated to carry conviction.

Jesus’ True Family (3:20–35)

Two stories are combined here—the visit of Jesus’ family (vv. 20–21, 31–35) and the Beelzeboul accusation by the scribes (vv. 23–30)—the latter being intercalated by the former. This ancient rhetorical technique is designed to bring episodes of similar meaning together, so that they may be mutually illuminating.120 That which intercalates completes the meaning of that which is intercalated by explicating the deeper issue. In this case it is about the true members of Jesus’ family, or God’s family (v. 35). The intercalation is not artificial because in both incidents, Jesus was labelled. The family labels him mad while the scribes from Jerusalem label him demon-possessed. Demon-possessed people were also regarded as mad in antiquity (John 10:20).

The setting is in a house, a place where much of Jesus’ teaching is given. Jesus’ family121 comes to restrain him. In good ancient Semitic tradition, the family assumes responsibility for the disciplining of a wayward or deviant son, even if he is already grown up. Moreover, this is done to protect the family’s honor. All this means Jesus’ teaching, deeds, and claims must have been quite shocking to his peers.

The scene changes with v. 22, and some scribes from Jerusalem accuse Jesus of being possessed by Beelzeboul. The meaning of this term is uncertain although “lord of the house” or “lord of the heavenly abode” seems most cogent. In any case, in so charging Jesus the scribes tacitly agree that Jesus’ ministry has been characterized by extraordinarily authoritative exorcisms, since the alleged power behind his work is attributed to no less a figure than the prince of demons.

Jesus responds in “parables” (v. 23). This is the first time the Greek parabolē is used in Mark’s Gospel. The concept takes after the Hebrew māšāl, which means basically “dark saying,” in contrast to the Greek which speaks of a comparison. Nevertheless, their semantic domains do overlap. Given that the story is set in Palestine, it is best to understanding it according to the Semitic way. Being inherently loose in semantic boundaries, the term may refer to pithy sayings or even extended narratives in which some comparison is made and an encrypted message given. So we must avoid prejudging the meaning of Jesus’ message based merely on some definition of what a parable should be. How Jesus uses it to convey his message in a particular text should be the main guide to interpretation.

The parables make two comparisons, using the images of kingdom122 and house (vv. 24–27). Their purpose is to show the logic of the accusation to be absurd. If there is civil war or internecine division, a kingdom or a household cannot stand. What Jesus hopes to convey is that his exorcisms indicate an invasion of Satan’s kingdom and not an internal revolt.

The formula “Amen I say to you” (v. 28) appears to be unique to Jesus. The word “amen” is Hebraic in origin and has as its root meaning “truth” or “trustworthiness.” It is also used in Jewish liturgy as an affirmative response, or at the end of a doxology (Deut 27:15–26; 1 Chron 16:36). The LXX translates the Hebrew ’āmēn as genoito, which means “let it be,” and thus many understand the Hebrew term to mean “so be it.”123 In the context of Jesus’ sayings, it means a solemn truth is being given, somewhat akin to “Thus says the Lord.”124 Jesus’ usage is unique in that the term is used to preface a saying and not to conclude it. Some scholars have also regarded it as carrying important christological freight.125

The scribal charge of blasphemy in 2:7 now rebounds to them (3:29–30). In the Markan context the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit means an outright rejection of Jesus’ ministry. This may be derived from the fact that his ministry derives its power from the Holy Spirit, and its feature is the exorcism of unclean spirits. Furthermore, the forgiveness of sins is often linked to the work of the Spirit in the eschaton (see excursus on “Blasphemy against the Holy Spirit”).

The words “will never,” standing as a counterpart to “eternal sin” (v. 29), are a translation of the Greek eis ton aiōna, which is in turn derived from the Hebrew lĕ‘ôlām. This Hebrew phrase refers to the age to come, which may be associated with the consummation of history (i.e., the eschaton). Through the work of the Spirit in Jesus, the eschaton has proleptically invaded the present age, without ending it. Hence, by rejecting Jesus’ ministry by assigning his exorcistic work to Satan, the scribes stand in danger of committing an eschatological or eternal sin.

The scene reverts back to the first story in v. 31, with the depiction of the arrival of Jesus’ family. There is something interesting about the composition of this family contingent, because the responsibility for reining in or bringing home a wayward adult male member of the family usually rests with males: either the father or the elder brother. In Jesus’ case, the mother comes along with his brothers, suggesting that Joseph is probably dead or ill. This also suggests that Jesus is the eldest son.126 If Jesus had an older brother, the mother need not be present. But if Jesus is the eldest brother, the mother has to be responsible if Joseph is not around, since younger brothers do not have the authority to rein him in. Their coming along must be for the reason that if the situation becomes ugly, they can then help their mother.

Mark locates the family contingent “outside.” This may be coded language to refer not just to a physical position but also to a theological position (i.e., although they might be Jesus’ physical kin, they were not truly his family).

Jesus asks about kinship (v. 33) and his reply to his own question is astonishing (vv. 34–35). The family bond was regarded as almost sacred in the first century Palestinian context, because of the fifth commandment (Exod 20:12). Thus for Jesus to speak of his real family as comprising those who obey God, and not those who are related to him by blood, serves to relativize the importance of such blood ties. Of course, Jews would accept that God’s claims supersede those of family. However, to claim that those who obey God are Jesus’ mother, brother, and sister goes beyond this in some ways in that a new type of kinship is envisaged. Such a concept dovetails with the story of 3:13–19, which connotes the idea of Jesus’ creating the new people of God, through the calling of the Twelve.

Interestingly, the answer of Jesus does not contain the all-important word “father.” There may be two possible explanations for this. It may be that Jesus is adapting his answer to the situation. Joseph is not there and so there is no need to mention who his father is. Alternatively, Jesus may be thinking of his special relationship with God who is known to him as Abba.127 This may also allude to the virgin birth of Jesus. Of course, both explanations need not be regarded as being mutually exclusive.

Fusing the Horizons: Blasphemy against the Holy Spirit

The blasphemy against the Holy Spirit has intrigued many people. Modern readers, anxious to know whether they or their close relatives have committed it, often ask what Jesus is referring to exactly. Not surprisingly, many theories have been propounded throughout the history of the Church to explain it.

We present here the biblical perspective, assuming that the OT forms a continuum with the NT. It may surprise many that what is being referred to is actually clear but what is unclear is the logic that is at work. The blasphemy against the Holy Spirit is committed when opponents of Jesus ascribe his exorcisms to the work of Beelzeboul. This is so because the Holy Spirit is the power behind Jesus’ distinctive exorcisms. But why should this blasphemy be regarded as an eternal sin without the possibility of forgiveness? Using the OT as a resource, we see that in the prophetic promises, God’s end-time restoration of Israel involves also the forgiveness of her sins (Isa 40:2; 43:25; 44:22; Jer 31:34; 33:8; Ezek 36:33), as it was sin that brought about her exile in the first place. The end-time restoration is to be achieved by the powerful work of the eschatological Spirit, who is also the agent of cleansing, revelation and regeneration (Isa 32:14–20; 59:15–21; Ezek 36:24–36; 37:1–14; 39:21–29). Without his work, restoration could not occur and Israel would be regarded as being still in her sins. Although the Spirit is not said expressly to bring about forgiveness of sins, we can infer this from his work of cleansing, restoring and regenerating: these aspects sum up God’s definitive return to his people to repair the broken covenantal relationship once and for all.

This restoration, Jesus claims, is taking place in his ministry as the eschatological Spirit moves mightily through him to bring about the collapse of Satan’s kingdom. Once this logic is appreciated, it can be seen that when the work of the Spirit is rejected, there can be no way of entering this eschatological kingdom of God. In brief, the rejection of the Spirit’s work is a rejection of God’s program of restoration and redemption. Eschatological overtures when maliciously slandered — and so resisted — can only result in an eschatological (eternal) destiny. The opponents of Jesus have thus painted themselves into a corner. If the only cure is rejected, how else can they be cured?128

From the Markan perspective, it also appears that the work of the Spirit in relation to the irruption of the kingdom is expressed significantly in exorcism. Mark has already indicated this by narrating Jesus’ first spectacular deed as an exorcism (1:21–28), shortly after the Spirit descended upon him. The implication is that maligning Jesus’ exorcisms takes on greater gravity than maligning Jesus’ other miracles.

Finally, we need to emphasize that this sin is not committed whenever any accusation of demonic inspiration is made against any Christian exorcist. Instead, Jesus’ warning is valid only in so far as the accusation is made against his ministry of exorcism. Hence, Christians should not jump to the conclusion that whoever speaks against Christianity today, even if it is done in vitriolic terms, has committed this very particular sin. So the present story speaks as much of Jesus’ unique status as the reverence that is to be given to the Spirit.

The Kingdom in Parables (4:1–34)

Preamble

Mark has recorded some parabolic teaching of Jesus while depicting him in debate with his opponents (3:23–27; cf. 2:19–22). But now in chapter 4, Mark includes an extended parable of Jesus, together with the hermeneutical key for decoding all parables (v. 13). This major teaching block—one of two, the other is found in chapter 13—will help Mark’s audience gain a proper perspective on what has preceded and prepare them for what is to follow.

In the previous chapters Mark has narrated the reactions of different people (the crowds, the tax-collectors and sinners, the religious authorities, Jesus’ family) to Jesus’ teaching and deeds. If Jesus’ ministry signifies the dawning of the long-awaited hope of Israel, namely the coming of God’s kingship, why does it engender different responses? The parables in this chapter go to the heart of the issue by illustrating the nature of the kingdom that has come through Jesus’ ministry. It is full of paradoxes, and not what his contemporaries thought it would be.

In this section, we are also informed for the first time that Jesus teaches lessons that are exclusively for his disciples. The explanation of the Parable of the Sower is laden with talk about “insiders” versus “outsiders.” This may be regarded as a further development of the theme in chapter 3. Not the outsiders, but the members of God’s family may grasp the essence of Jesus’ teaching because they will be given special insights (v. 10).

Since this section treats very significant themes, we should expect some coherent structure. The key lies in understanding the function of vv. 21–25. If this passage is regarded not as parables but as containing pithy sayings that provide a counterpoint to the sayings of vv. 10–12, then all the parables in this chapter feature only seed. The parable placed first in this collection (i.e., the Parable of the Sower) may then be regarded as the archetype, since the understanding of it opens doors to the other parables (v. 13). So Mark includes the interpretation of Jesus (vv. 14–20), something which he does not do for the other parables.129

But can we say vv. 21–25 are not parables? We should first notice that they are not explicitly named as such, unlike the three seed parables. It is better to regard them as disparate sayings that have been strung together. Secondly, their content differs from that of the other three parables in that they speak of light and concealment, and not seed and growth. This fits in better with the theme of vv. 10–12. Thirdly, they develop the theme of vv. 10–12 further by stating that there will be illumination and revelation eventually (i.e., all “hiddenness” will ultimately end because the lamp comes for the purpose of illumination). This gives the christological resolution to the paradoxical kingdom, and promises that all things will finally be made clear.

In short, we have an ABA’B’ structure for vv. 3–25 (see Diagram 3). The archetypal parable is taught in vv. 3–9 (A), followed by comments on the concealing function of parables in vv. 10–12 (B). Next, the explanation of the archetype parable is given in vv. 13–20 (A’), and this is then followed by sayings on concealment and revelation in vv. 21–25 (B’). Mark then includes two further seed parables to illustrate the hidden nature of the kingdom (vv. 26–32). No interpretation from Jesus is provided for them, probably because Mark regards this as unnecessary once the meaning of the Parable of the Sower has been explained, and Jesus’ role in all this is understood. Of course, in the summary Mark reiterates that Jesus typically explains the parables to his disciples (vv. 33–34).

All the above then raises a pressing question: why does Mark choose only seed parables to explain what the kingdom is? We may think of three reasons. The first is that Jesus ministered in what is largely an agrarian society. Farming images would be most suitable for his listeners. Secondly, the image of planting and harvesting is frequently used in the OT to convey God’s creative work in the nation, especially his restorative work (Hos 2:21–23; Amos 9:13–15; Zech 8:12). Jewish eschatological discourses make use of such an image too (cf. 2 Bar. 70:2). Moreover, the seed is most congenial for representing the restorative word of God which works to bring about his eschatological will (cf. Isa 55:10–11; 4 Ezra 8:41; 9:31). Indeed, in Jer 31:27–28, the image of sowing seed is used in relation to the prophecy of the repopulation of Israel and Judah. Finally, the image of seed conveys aptly the nature of the kingdom. Just as a seed is hidden in the soil but will germinate to bring forth life and fruit, so also will the kingdom be hidden, but its effect will be tangible and unstoppable.

Parable of the Sower (4:1–9)

The setting (v. 1) serves to raise the expectation that something spectacular is about to happen because it contains a hyperbole. Usually crowds are just described as “great” (3:7–8; cf. 5:21; 6:34; 8:1; 9:14; 12:37), but in 4:1, Mark uses the Greek phrase ochlos pleistos, which means literally “the greatest crowd.” This “mammoth” crowd has gathered at the shore of the lake to listen to Jesus and subsequently he has to use the boat as a vehicle for teaching. Verse 2 tells us that Jesus teaches in parables, but the focus will just be on one.

Two verbs are joined in the opening statement of Jesus: “listen” and “look.”130 The implication is that mere listening is not enough. The listeners must also perceive. In other words, their hearing should lead to a new outlook. To be sure, the importance of “hearing” is not to be belittled, as it occurs again in vv. 9, 12, 15–16, 18, 20, 23–24, 33, and especially so when it is the first word of the Shema131 (see Deut 6:4–5). The upshot of all this is that something important is being conveyed by Jesus, and it will take one’s total concentration and keen perception to grasp his meaning.

The parable speaks of a sower (the Greek is ho speirōn). There may be an allusion to Jer 31:27–28, which pictures God as a sower who works to bring Israel back from her exile.132 It has also been suggested by some commentators that the sower in the parable could also be Jesus.133

A familiar scene taken from the agrarian context of his listeners is used: a small landholder casts seed in all types of soil in the hope of getting optimal yield.134 He would also sow seeds before ploughing (cf. Jub. 11:11; t. Sab. 7:2; b. Sab. 73b).135 The parable is constructed artfully and uses ideas which are easy to follow. Seeds are sown on four different types of terrain: the ground beside the path, the rocky places, the thorny patches, and good soil. The seeds face different conditions and give different results. These are arranged in the form of a gradation: no germination → quick germination but also quick termination → no fruit → abundant fruit.

The first terrain is properly “the ground beside the path,”136 in keeping with the Greek para tēn hodon, and not “along the path,” as it is in many English versions. This is the unplowed part of the field. The seeds on it are easily accessible to birds. More importantly, such a description may be theologically loaded, because the word hodos (way) is used positively in Mark to represent the “way” of three intimately related entities: the way of the gospel (1:2), the way of Jesus (8:27; 10:32), and the way of discipleship (9:33; 10:52).137 So the people who are represented by the ground that is “beside the path” are those who do not belong to the way. As a result, the seed or word is taken immediately from them. Feeding birds are often an ominous image (Gen 40:17, 19; Deut 28:26; 1 Kings 14:11; 16:4; Ps 79:2; Isa 18:6; Jer 7:33; 34:20; Ezek 29:5; 32:4; cf. Jub. 11:11).

The second are the rocky places. Terrain of this nature has only a thin layer of soil, which does not allow the germinating plant to take root deeply. Exposed to the scorching sun, it will wither quickly. The description that the plant sprang up quickly in such a terrain has puzzled many readers, as there is no scientific basis for it. Perhaps the solution lies in construing the parable as adopting an observer’s perspective. Seeds sown on rocky terrain are nearer the surface as compared to seeds sown on ploughed soil. As it takes a shorter time for the shoot to break out from this thin soil, it gives the impression that it germinates more rapidly. The point of the description lies in the contrast: quick growth but shallow roots. “Rootlessness” is a stock image for describing the infidels or the wicked in Jewish literature (Sir 23:25; 40:15; Wis 4:3).

The third type of terrain contains thorns. Due to competition from the thorns, the sown seed cannot reach its full potential of bearing fruit. Jer 4:3 warns against sowing among thorns in his sermon encouraging repentance and return.

The final terrain is good soil, which yields great results. The enumeration of the yields is interesting. If taken as crop yields they are indeed phenomenal, since usual yields were less than tenfold. Even so, this pales in comparison with the exaggerated expectations of the fruitfulness of the eschaton by the rabbis, where yields can be as much as 150,000 times (b. Ketub.11b-12a)! The point is that great fruitfulness, a symbol of the eschaton (Jer 31:12; Hos 2:21–22; Joel 2:22; Amos 9:13; Zech 8:12), has come.138 But if it is taken as the yield of the individual seed, the description is realistic.139

Verse 9 harks back to the “Listen” of v. 3, and together they form a frame for the parable. The saying also serves two functions. First, it makes the parable applicable to all, with the words “those who have ears.” But secondly, “those who have ears to hear” suggests that not everyone uses his/her auditory organs properly, and in this respect the exhortation is narrowed to a special group. The two ideas are not mutually exclusive. All are summoned to hear but it is implied that not all will do so.

The Meaning of the Parable (4:10–25)

This section may be broken up into three units. The first (vv. 10–12) tells us why Jesus explains the parables only to his disciples and not to the crowds or “outsiders.” This sets the stage for the second unit (vv. 13–20), which reiterates the importance of the parable of the sower, and also decodes for the disciples the meaning of the different images in the parable. The third (vv. 21–25) comprises four different sayings: two each on the theme of revelation/concealment, and the need to respond appropriately. All this enriches the meaning of Jesus’ parable teaching by promising ultimate clarity, albeit with a warning thrown in.

The Purpose of the Parables (4:10–12)

Mark probably envisages a group larger than the Twelve in v. 10 (cf. 2:15). The plural “parables” is intentional, and not a result of poor composition. The point is that the key to understanding Jesus’ many parables lies with one particular parable. Conversely, to ask about the meaning of the Parable of the Sower is to ask about the parables.

In v. 11 Jesus speaks of the “secret” of the kingdom of God. The Greek word used here is mystērion, and it occurs only once in Mark’s Gospel. It refers to God’s secret purpose which is known only through revelation. Indeed, it harks back to the Aramaic rāz, used in Dan 2:18–19, 27–30, 40, where Daniel interprets Nebuchadnezzar’s dream of the compositely-made statute by referring to God’s secret. In this sense, what Jesus is about to teach his disciples cannot be obtained through human ability, but comes as a gift, a revelation. This means the images generated by the parables will remain in the minds of Jesus’ hearers, teasing them into active thought but never providing them with the requisite meaning until the light from Jesus’ teaching shines into them. It is also to be noted that with this verse, the connection between Jesus’ parables and the reign of God coming through his ministry is made explicit.

Who are those who are described as “on the outside” (v. 11)? In chapter 3, those who were described or implied to be “outside” (3:31) were Jesus’ family and the scribes respectively. It may then be inferred that the “outsiders” here are those who are quick to dismiss Jesus’ claims and teaching. To the “outsiders” everything about Jesus’ ministry remains as a parable or a māšāl (i.e., a dark saying), but the “insiders” are given the secret for decoding it. Two contrasts are thus set up: revelation versus concealment, and insiders versus outsiders.

Verse 12 presents intractable interpretation problems. There is debate on how the Greek hina, and the corresponding mēpote, may be construed. The question concerns chiefly whether the Greek words convey intention or result. Because of space constraint, only the main lines of interpretation are discussed here.140 (1) If the Greek hina is telic (i.e., stating purpose), then Jesus is saying that the parables are told with the express purpose to make outsiders remain ignorant, so that their sins remain unforgiven. The counterpart mēpote (lest) confirms the statement’s telic force. The problem facing this interpretation is that it appears to contradict Jesus’ proclamation of good news to all and sundry. (2) One variant of this approach is to treat the Greek hina as being a short hand for hina plērōthē (i.e., in order that it may be fulfilled), a formula for citing scripture. This redirects the intention from Jesus to Scripture. But the troublesome intentionality is still there. (3) If it is ecbatic in force (i.e., stating result), the statement of Jesus may be interpreted thus: the result—not the intention—of teaching in parables is that some would remain ignorant, and their sins would therefore not be forgiven. The fault then lies not with the parable speaker but the hearers, whose stubborn hearts prevent them from understanding the parables. The Greek hina is usually telic in force, although at this stage of its development in the first century, it could be used to indicate result.141 However, mēpote proves a challenge and has to be arbitrarily construed as being tentative or conditional. There are unambiguous words to serve this function, such as the Greek ei mē. Hence, while this interpretation makes good theological sense, it is weak grammatically. (4) Some scholars prefer to dig back to the Aramaic substratum, and argue that in the process of translating it into Greek, a misunderstanding has arisen. They contend that hina probably translates the Aramaic dĕ, which although telic in force, can also be used as a relative pronoun, (such as “who”). Mēpote is then construed as reflecting the Aramaic dîlĕmā’, which may be translated as “unless.”142 This produces the sense: “Everything is in parables to those who are outside who may look and yet not perceive … unless they repent …” Consequently the verse describes those who are the “outsiders,” but with a hope held out to them that if they repent they will no longer be outsiders. However, this approach does not quite solve the problem, since it is clear that Mark depicts Jesus as typically explaining parables only to his disciples (see vv. 11, 34). Privileged information is given only to the insiders, implying that it is Jesus’ intention not to make the meaning of his parables transparent to all. This is confirmed in vv. 33–34.

Notwithstanding the interpretational problems, it should be pointed out that, if we bracket off theological concerns, the grammar is actually clear (especially the pairing of hina with mēpote). It speaks explicitly of intentionality. The fact that Jesus explains parables only to the insiders supports this further. Moreover, the original context of the Isaianic quotation in v. 12 speaks clearly of intentionality too (see below). Resorting to a putative Aramaic substratum will not do, as we do not have it and any retroversion is precarious. All we have is the Greek text of Mark, and the contextual indicators he provides us. The difficulty lies not with the grammar but with the presupposed theology. It is jarring to human ears.

One way to solve the problem is to limit the saying to a small group, (i.e., the religious leaders who opposed Jesus).143 But the fact that the insiders are differentiated from “the largest crowd” (v. 1) suggests that a much bigger group is envisaged. Indeed in chapter 3, those who were described as being “on the outside” are the relatives of Jesus. That said, Mark would surely know that James, the Lord’s brother, did come to trust in Jesus after his resurrection! This means the “outsiders” can become “insiders.”

Perhaps the way forward is to start from Isa 6:9–10 and acknowledge that the harshness in Mark 4:10–12 comes mainly from the quoted words. Our preferred interpretation is therefore option 2. It retains the telic idea, which is suggested not simply by the Greek hina but also by the way the story is told. This intention is the divine intention, connected with the words used by Isaiah on the obdurate nation just before her exile. The full force of this obduracy has yet to be unleashed, and Jesus’ ministry does precisely that, fulfilling Scripture (i.e., making it full).144 It will attract rank stubbornness to itself. All this is part of God’s plan and may be construed as the secret of the kingdom. Of course, the Isaianic quotation need not be regarded as totalizing. Other aspects must be brought in to ensure a full-orbed view of Jesus’ ministry. The fact that Jesus appealed to people to hear does not indicate that fatalism is at work.

That said, we must not miss an important implication here, which actually undergirds the whole of 4:1–34: the kingdom works in the midst of great rebellion without cancelling it, at least not yet. Hence, there is a division among the people, making them into insiders and outsiders. Furthermore, Jesus’ ministry is seen as eschatological, drawing together the different narrative threads of the biblical story, both positive and negative. Hence salvation is announced together with judgment (and Mark will have more to say about this later).

The Interpretation of the Parable (4:13–20)

Jesus’ questions in v. 13 make explicit the hermeneutical significance of the Parable of the Sower. It provides the key to unlocking the meaning of all Jesus’ parables.

Jesus’ explanation of the parable begins with the all-important sentence that guides us to its meaning: it is about the sowing of the word.145 The soils are only part of the message. If this is missed, then this parable has been domesticated of all its revolutionary effect. The importance of the word is also suggested by its frequent occurrence in the explanation.146 The absolute form “the word” is never found in the OT; it is always qualified by another noun or in a genitival relationship with something else. However, the absolute use of it is often found in the NT. This gives it a technical sense—the word of the gospel, which is also the eschatological word.147 We may compare this with the OT depiction of God’s word: that which creates, reveals, judges, restores, and recreates (Ps 19; 33:6; 119:105; Isa 55:10–11). The gospel has similar functions.

Only through recognizing the momentous importance of the “word” could the different responses symbolized by different soils become significant and not just run-of-the-mill comments about life. The eschatological “word” is sown in different kinds of soils, indicating different conditions of the heart. The different points along the spectrum of responses are highlighted: those who lost it straightaway, through to those who gave up because of persecution, and those who were hampered by the cares of this age, and finally to those who respond positively. As interesting as these responses may be for a psychological enquiry or homiletical application, the main point lies elsewhere. It is that the promised restorative word is given while obduracy still works. This is because the full measure of obduracy has yet to come, although it is now in process in Jesus’ ministry. This being the case, the word given through Jesus’ ministry could be easily rejected by the unbelieving as an impotent word and thus not God’s restorative word. But the point of Jesus is that the word is now sown, and what is regarded as impotent is actually potent, albeit hidden! The time that the Jews longed for ardently has indeed come, although it is not accompanied by an open blaze of glory. So faith is needed and the hearers are exhorted to listen carefully. The parable then speaks of the paradoxical timing of the kingdom and the paradoxical nature of its revelation. This manner of reading it ties up vv. 10–12 neatly with the parable interpretation, and dovetails with the thrust of the next paragraph.148

Hidden in Order to Reveal (4:21–25)

The paragraph comprising vv. 21–25 picks up the theme of revelation versus concealment, sounded in vv. 10–12. It speaks of the lamp’s coming to illuminate (see below) by being set on a lampstand, and not by being hidden under a bowl or a bed. This is then concluded with a clear statement that all things will ultimately be made clear, and the hidden open (v. 22). After that, the exhortation to hear, first sounded in v. 9 when the parable was told, is given (v. 23), indicating the utter importance of that statement. All this is further reinforced by the exhortation of v. 24: “to see what they are hearing.” The two sayings that follow speak of accountability and judgment. In other words, what is being heard is not a run-of-the-mill thing, because there will be a great day of reckoning.

The Greek mēti erchetai ho lychnos is often translated as “do you bring in a lamp,” which is also supported by many commentaries, but it actually obscures a powerful Markan theme at work. The Greek erchomai is almost always deponent, and should be translated with an English verb in its active voice,149 unless otherwise indicated.150 This being the case, Mark’s statement actually speaks of the lamp’s coming. In the OT the lamp is an image for God’s word (Ps 119:105), and it is used to signify the illuminative or revelatory aspect of his word. Since Jesus provides the world with new revelation, Mark may very well have Jesus in mind too.151

The implication of the lamp’s coming is spelled out in v. 22, and it provides the counterpoint to the parable theory of 4:10–12: it is always God’s intention for full clarity to come. The hiding is only a phase, and is subservient to the larger interest of revelation.152 This means the kingdom will finally be tangibly experienced. So important is this truth that the exhortation to hear, sounded at the end of the Parable of the Sower (v. 9) is repeated here (v. 23). Although it is not stated when clarity will come, in Mark’s Gospel this is either Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection, or his coming again.153 One may then speak of a christological resolution of the kingdom’s enigma.

A different image is conjured up with v. 24. The Greek blepete ti akouete aptly juxtaposes the senses of seeing and hearing. In the Markan context, seeing is an important activity especially when it is related to the things that are happening in Jesus’ ministry (8:15, 18, 22–26; 12:14). Why it is important to “watch what you hear” is explained with the use of the metaphor of a measure. An escalation of the lex talionis principle may be detected here. What it means is that the negative judgments people pass on Jesus’ ministry will result in negative judgments being passed on them. But because of the eschatological and salvific significance of Jesus’ ministry, these future judgments will be infinitely more severe than what they themselves are passing on Jesus.

On the surface the saying of v. 25 appears rather capricious, but when it is understood in its particular context, it makes good sense. Those who are the “insiders” (i.e., people who are open to what God is doing in Jesus’ ministry), are promised more revelation and insight. For those who do not have this attitude, even the little insight they once had will soon be gone. Rejection does not mean the status quo is preserved; instead, it leads to a downward spiral. The verse does not identify who takes this away. It could be Satan (cf. 4:15) or God.

Two Seed Parables (4:26–32)

Two seed parables are found here. Through them, the parable connection with the kingdom of God is made explicit.

For the first time, the phrase “this is what the kingdom of God is like” is used to preface a parable (v. 26). This parable is about the germinating seed, growing without any human input (vv. 26–29). What is emphasized is the inscrutability of the growth of the kingdom, but the results are assured and will be clear to all. The Greek of the final two clauses in v. 29 echoes the Greek translation of Joel 3:13 (LXX 4:13). The latter speaks of eschatological judgment against God’s enemies. If the echo is intentional, Jesus appears to be using it with a different nuance: to speak positively of the final results of the kingdom.