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Paul and Mark

It has been my contention in the introduction to this work that Mark’s Christology is born out of his community’s situation. It is a communal construction that has as its starting point that community’s self-understanding. Crucial to that self-understanding is the stress and anxiety produced by the Jewish-Roman war of 66–70 CE, which produced a crisis of faithfulness as the members of the community were pulled between allegiance to the Zealot movement or to the teachings of Jesus. This was particularly heightened by the fact that God’s eschatological kingdom, as announced by the historical Jesus in Mark 1:15, had not manifested itself, thus creating a sense of disillusion, not to mention frustration and plain fear (cf. Mark 16:8). Therefore, the idea of faithful discipleship is conveyed through the example of Jesus, the ideal disciple of the kingdom, whom the believers are encouraged to imitate. Also, the eschatological Son of Man, a symbol/character extracted from the book of Daniel and the intertestamental Jewish literature, is deployed by the evangelist and placed to the service of his exhortation to faithful discipleship. In Mark’s mind, faithful discipleship leads to an appropriate stance at the time when God brings God’s kingdom. Therefore, these two ideas, discipleship and eschatology, are interconnected in Mark’s Christology. My purpose in this book is to unravel such connection and flesh out Mark’s theological perspective.

But in order to understand how Mark connects these two ideas, it is necessary to start with an historical-literary investigation of the two terms that seem to convey the ideas proposed above, namely, “disciple” and “Son of Man.” Now, this investigation has to start with a chronology of the usage of these expressions. That is, what are the occurrences of these two expressions in the NT and who is the first writer to use them? When the question of chronology is asked, the obvious answer is that the Pauline letters take precedence over any other document. They represent the earliest examples of canonical writing, followed very closely by Mark, probably the first narrative gospel ever to be written. If Paul’s literary production stopped with the letter to the Romans, which is believed to have been written by the middle of the first century (55–58 CE), and Mark was perhaps writing during or slightly after the Jewish War of 66–70 CE, then an investigation of the expressions “disciple” and “Son of Man” in these two authors is in order. Being as they were so close to each other in time, one is tempted to speculate as to the relationship between both of them. To what extent was Mark trying to correct, appropriate, or develop some of Paul’s theological affirmations?58 In other words, was Mark being remedial, trying to do damage control for his community? That will have to be assessed once we conclude our investigation.

The Occurrences of the Term “Disciple” in the NT

The word “disciple,” μαθητής, appears nowhere else in the NT but in the Synoptic Gospels, John, and Acts. Paul does not use it; neither do any of the other writers of the NT, including the author of Revelation. If Paul, who wrote between 49–58 CE, does not use the term “disciple,” and Mark, who probably wrote between 66–70 CE does, then that means that unless we can find another document prior to Mark59 where the word is being used, then Mark is the first NT writer to use the expression.60 Now, he does not expand theologically on what it means to be a disciple; but Matthew and Luke, using Q, do. See, for example, Matthew 10:24, 25 / Luke 6:40; 14:26, 27, 33, where Jesus addresses the issue of the cost of discipleship utilizing the technical term “disciple.” In Mark, it is only the narrator who uses the term, never Jesus. In the Gospel of John, “disciple” is used profusely. It is placed on the lips of Jesus (8:31, 13:35, 15:8), the Pharisees (9:27, 28) and the narrator (2:2, 11; 3:32; etc.). In the book of Acts, “disciple” refers to believers in general (6:1, 7; 9:10, 36; 13:52; 14:20ff; 16:1; 21:4, 16), while “apostles” refers to the twelve original disciples of Jesus (1:26).

What does this all mean in terms of chronology? Matthew and Luke, using Q, represent a later tradition. By this time, the concept of discipleship had been reappropriated to refer to a follower of Jesus. The same thing happens in John. The interesting thing, though, is that Paul never uses the concept of discipleship in his letters, nor does he develop the idea of the believers as disciples of Jesus Christ. To describe himself in relationship to Christ, Paul uses δούλος and ὰπόστολος. To refer to the believers in general, he uses mainly ἀγιοι and ἀδελφοί.

An analysis of the chronological data produces the following chart:

Paul (49–58 CE)	no Disciple Terminology (DT)
Synoptic Gospels (66/70–85 CE)	abundance of DT
John (90–95 CE)	abundance of DT
Acts (80–85 CE)	abundance of DT
Pseudo-Pauline Epistles (80–120 CE)	no DT
Catholic Epistles (90–120 CE)	no DT
Revelation (90–95 CE)	no DT

How can this data be explained?

1. There is no discipleship language in Paul.

Since Paul does not emphasize Jesus’ earthly ministry, he has no place for disciples as characters in the story of Jesus. No story, no disciples. The risen Lord, who appeared to him, does not need disciples but apostles (1 Cor 15:8–10) and believers. But an earthly Jesus needs disciples, followers, not believers, since he never made himself the object of people’s beliefs. God was always the object of his and people’s beliefs. Faith was placed on God’s power to execute liberation through miracles, healings, and exorcisms, both his and the disciples’.

Disciples and discipleship suggest a mission to be carried out and, even though Paul saw himself as a missionary and an apostle to the Gentiles, he did not envision a long mission because according to him the world was soon going to be transformed at the Parousia. His mission61 was to be short-lived. Necessary, yes, but soon it was going to be rendered irrelevant by the appearance of Jesus Christ from heaven (cf. 1 Thess 2:19; 3:13; 4:15; 5:23; 1 Cor 15:23; Rom 13:11–14, etc.). Paul does not live to see the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 CE. According to tradition, he dies in Rome around the year 66 CE.62 Therefore, he does not witness the beginning of the rabbinic movement started by the post-war Pharisees, who did have disciples (see Mark 2:18; Matt 23:15; Luke 5:33). So, to what extent is the discipleship terminology part of the Gospels’ rhetoric63 rather than a reality in Jesus’ ministry or, for that matter, Paul’s? Paul, who lived closer to the time of Jesus, does not use the expression “disciple,” not even once. Now, that in itself is a huge piece of data that raises all kinds of questions: why didn’t he see himself as a disciple but rather as an apostle of Jesus Christ? Are the terms synonymous? For if they are, then Paul may have meant “disciple of Jesus Christ” when he writes “apostle of Jesus Christ.” But the terms are not synonymous. In the Gospels it is only the Twelve who are called apostles (Matt 10:1–2; Mark 6:20; Luke 6:13; 9:10; 22:14; 24:10). And in Mark and Matthew, they are the only ones who are “sent” with a specific mission. The rest of the disciples are not given specific instructions, except that they are to follow Jesus and be willing to give their lives for the gospel (Mark 8:34–38). Things change in Luke, though, where besides the Twelve, seventy others are sent by Jesus to proclaim the kingdom of God (10:1–24). This is found only in Luke and may point to his understanding of Jesus’ mission as including also the Gentiles. Conversely, it may betray a Mosaic theme by which Jesus is turned into a new Moses who chooses leaders from the people in order to “share the burden” of the proclamation (cf. Num 11:17).64

In the book of Acts, this identification of the apostles with the Twelve is especially clear when the group has to find a replacement for Judas. Luke writes:

Then they prayed and said, “Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.” And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias; and he was added to the eleven apostles. (Acts 1:24–26)

This sets up the chain of authority in the nascent church. Authority is going to come from God, through the Holy Spirit, directly into the hands of the apostles. In fact, the distinction between the apostles and the Holy Spirit is at times blurred, as is the case in Acts 5:3, where lying to the apostles is equated with lying to the Holy Spirit. The twelve apostles are the ones who, together with the elders (15:2, 4, 6, 22, 23; 16:4) and the Holy Spirit, make the big decisions (15:28). The difference between the disciples and the apostles is clear in passages such as Acts 6:1–7, where a number of deacons are chosen by the apostles from amongst the disciples to serve the growing needs of the community.

Another feature of the book of Acts is that it refers to the early movement as “the Way” (9:2; 18:25; 19:9, 23; 22:4; 24:14, 22). This talks about the movement as a people in motion, on their way, following as disciples the teachings of the apostles, those who had witnessed the ministry and the resurrection of Jesus from the dead (cf. Acts 1:22). Unlike them, Paul’s claim to apostleship depended on his having had a vision of the risen Christ. He knew nothing about Jesus’ earthly ministry. He did not witness it, and because of that, his authority was questioned many times; he had to defend himself by saying that he had received his apostleship directly from the Lord, as a revelation, not from any human leader such as Peter or James (cf. Galatians 2). He distinguished himself clearly from the apostles in Jerusalem, and yet he spoke of himself as an apostle, called by God to preach the gospel to the Gentiles. Using the term “disciple” would have amounted to recognizing a link to the earthly followers of Jesus or to the beginning stages of the church, where believers were called by that name. Paul would not have any of that. His preaching had to do with the power of God manifested in Christ’s resurrection. He emphasizes the lordship of Christ, not his teachings. Rather than following the teachings of an earthly Messiah, the believers were to experience the power of the Holy Spirit as it is manifested in the ekklesia. For Paul, Christ was the Son of God, not the Son of Man of the Gospels; he was the Lord of the universe, not the prophet from Galilee. As the Lord, Jesus required unconditional allegiance and obedience, not simply adherence to his teachings. No, Paul could not use the word “disciple” to talk about those who believe in Jesus as the Christ. He used the word “believers,” for that is what they were. Coming as they did from a Gentile background, they lacked the knowledge of the Jewish traditions, which would have qualified them as followers of a Jewish rabbi. They were more accustomed to experiencing the power of the Greco-Roman deities in the liturgical context of the Greek temples. They did not have a doctrine that they could follow, or books with the teachings of the founder that they could read. They came to the temples and engaged in liturgical practices (prayers, sacrifices, etc.) that assured them that the gods’ blessings on their lives would result in good fortune. Paul switched the pagan gods with the Lord Jesus Christ and assured them of much more comprehensive benefits, such as life after death in God’s presence, or being taken up while still living at the Parousia of Jesus Christ from heaven, which would put an end to their suffering. Good fortune was not in Paul’s mind but rather eternal life. What Paul preached was not a way of life, but a way out of a life of enslavement into which humans have been brought by two cosmic powers: death and sin. By sharing in Christ’s death and resurrection through baptism, people were sanctified, becoming members of the body of Christ, empowered by the Holy Spirit with gifts to nurture the body while they waited for the coming of the Lord from heaven. In Paul’s mind, there is no time for forming disciples, only time to snatch people from the fires of hell preparing them for God’s glorious reality which was about to be revealed.

If we take a sample of Paul’s terminology from Romans 16, we see that he refers to people using a variety of terms, but he avoids the word “disciple.” He uses terms of endearment to express how he felt about certain people who were emotionally very close to him: “beloved” (vv. 5, 9, 12), “beloved in the Lord” (v. 8), and “eminent in the Lord” (v. 13). He uses technical terms to refer to some people’s specific function in the church, for example, “deaconess” (v. 1) and “apostles” (v. 7). He uses descriptive terms to talk about people’s relationship to him, whether as an individual: “mother to me” (v. 13), “benefactor/helper” (v. 2) or as an apostle: “fellow workers” (vv. 3, 21), “compatriot” (vv. 7, 11, 21), “fellow prisoners” (v. 7), “fellow worker in Christ” (v. 9), “approved in Christ” (v. 10), and “workers in the Lord” (v. 12). Finally, he uses terminology that refers to people in the ekklesia in a more general way, namely, “sister” (vv. 1, 15), “brethren” (vv. 14, 17, 23), “saints” (v. 2, 15), and “convert” (v. 5).

Perhaps the closest Paul gets to using discipleship language is when he refers to believers as those who are “called to be saints” (1 Cor 1:2; Rom 1:7) or “those who are the called” (1 Cor 1:24). Obviously, God is the one who calls (1 Cor 1:1; Rom 1:1; 8:30), but whereas God called him to be an apostle, God called the believers to be saints or to be part of “the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord” (1 Cor 1:9). There is here a hierarchical difference not present in the Gospels, except perhaps in the distinction between the Twelve and the other disciples or the crowd. Inasmuch as he has been given a special revelation that made him an apostle to the Gentiles, Paul distances himself from the rest of the believers. It is clear that, even though there are other apostles (cf. Rom 16:7; 1 Cor 4:9; 9:5; 12:28; 15:7, 9; Gal 1:17, 19), there is only one apostle to the Gentiles, Paul himself.

The expression “apostle” may of itself have a hierarchical connotation not conveyed by the term “disciple.” Paul may have wanted to use it precisely because of that. In other words, Paul may have been intentionally hierarchical, reproducing in his letters a system of dominance and obedience that replaced the Roman kyrios with Jesus the kyrios.65 In the Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament, W. Bauer says that “apostle” was used in classical Greek and later writings for a naval expedition and its commander, or for a ship ready for departure, and that in isolated cases, it meant ambassador, delegate, and messenger.66 This last meaning is the primary usage of the term in the NT, where it is applied primarily to “a group of highly honored believers, who had a special function.”67 Paul, as a ship ready to depart in search of new regions to colonize, or new cities in which to sell merchandise, understood himself as the apostle to the Gentiles, God’s messenger of good news—the gospel, but not any gospel, rather Paul’s version of the gospel (cf. Rom 2:16; 16:25)—to the world. Yes, “apostle” is the term he needed to use, not “disciple,” which conveys the idea of pupil and apprentice.68 Even though, according to Luke, Paul the Pharisee was a disciple of Gamaliel (Acts 22:3), Paul the missionary to the Gentiles received the gospel from no one. He received it from God, through a direct revelation. He did not have to consult with any human being; he did not go to Jerusalem to receive it from James and the other apostles. And when Paul finally went to Jerusalem, he said that “those who were supposed to be acknowledged leaders . . . contributed nothing to me” (Gal 2:6).

We conclude then by saying that the discipleship terminology is missing in Paul’s letters, because it did not fit his understanding of both the kairos he thought he and his communities were living in and the kyrios he was proclaiming. He did not see much time left for the world, for this was the moment when God’s final word, spoken in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, was about to be fully realized at the Parousia (cf. Rom 13:11–12). Disciples were not what the world needed, but apostles and believers. Apostles were sent by God. They did not follow any earthly teacher. Since in his view, Jesus had become the Lord (kyrios) of the universe, one much more powerful than the one of the present day, Caesar, he did not necessitate disciples to propagate any of his teachings. In fact, his teaching were not the focus of Paul’s gospel but, as he himself states it, his death and resurrection as the power of God for salvation for everyone who enters in a trusting relationship with God through Christ (Rom 1:16–17). And Paul saw himself as a vital instrument in that economy. His role in the divine plan of salvation was eschatological, for it was taking place at the end times, but also because in many ways, Paul came to fulfill the role of the eschatological Elijah of Malachi 4:5–6. 69

2. There are numerous references to disciples in the Synoptic Gospels and John.

From a literary and theological perspective, one might say that the higher the Christology of a given document, the lesser the need for discipleship terminology. Is this true? Well, Paul’s Christology is higher than that of the Synoptic Gospels. Therefore, he does not use discipleship terminology. Paul uses “apostle,” which is “sent” terminology. Sent by whom? By God, obviously.

On the other hand, disciples are sent by their human teachers. So, in a sense, disciple terminology could be a matter of Christological awareness. But, not always. For example, the Gospel of John has a very high Christology, and yet it uses discipleship terminology throughout, even more than the Synoptic Gospels. But since John probably is not using the Synoptics as sources, it is possible that he is utilizing the term “disciple” in a different manner.

Historically and chronologically speaking, the Synoptic Gospels belong to the time after the destruction of Jerusalem. After some time, the eschatological expectations connected with this event started to wane and so the post-war communities had to prepare for life on earth. Therefore, discipleship became the way by which these communities started to build themselves up as they adjusted to the disappointment that accompanied the unrealized Parousia. Out of a growing number of oral traditions, they wrote the story of Jesus, describing him as appointing disciples. Now, whether or not the historical Jesus did that is irrelevant for our purpose here, although there is a good chance that Jesus did precisely that, especially if we take seriously the possibility that he himself had been a disciple of John the Baptist. Given this scenario, it is not unlikely that Jesus would have modeled the modus operandi of his teacher of having disciples and may have even implemented similar practices, such as style of proclamation (Mark 1:15) and piety (Luke 11:1).

Presenting Jesus as appointing disciples in order to help him in his ministry of proclamation, healing, and exorcisms (Mark 6:12) legitimized and encouraged later communities such as Mark’s to engage in the work of proclaiming the gospel to all nations (Mark 13:10), which then became their primary preoccupation. This task necessitated a structure, the church, which was made up of disciples (Matthew 28).

3. There are no references to disciple or discipleship in the Pseudo-Pauline Epistles, the Catholic Epistles, or Revelation.

But not all the communities that emerged after 70 CE utilized discipleship terminology in their writings. The Pseudo-Pauline Epistles, 1 and 2 Peter, 1, 2, and 3 John, James, Judas, and Revelation do not use this terminology either. Why? If Paul was super-eschatological and the Synoptic Gospels and John were less so, does it necessarily follow that the higher the eschatological expectation, the lower the occurrence of disciple terminology? And, conversely, that the lower the eschatological expectation, the higher the use of disciple terminology? Let us consider the evidence more closely:

Document	Level of Eschatology	Degree of Discipleship Terminology
Pauline letters	High	None
Synoptic Gospels	Moderate	High
Gospel of John	Low	High
Acts	Low	Moderate
Ephesians	None	None
Colossians	None	None
2 Thessalonians	High	None
Pastoral Epistles	Low	None
1 & 2 Peter	Low	None
James	Low	None
Revelation	High	None
Jude	None	None
1, 2 & 3 John	None	None

Our assumption cannot be fully corroborated, for there are documents that show a low eschatological expectation and, at the same time, show no DT (discipleship terminology). But at least in the case of Paul’s authentic letters, and in 2 Thessalonians and Revelation, the presence of eschatological language coincides with the absence of discipleship language. And in the case of the Synoptic Gospels, John and Acts, occurrences of less, or at least qualified, eschatological language appears to coincide with the presence of a robust DT. This is a considerable amount of material that at least preliminarily and partially justifies our hypothesis. Nevertheless, the presence of this technical terminology has to be explained differently.

One way of solving the problem is to say that the documents that demonstrate a low eschatological expectation, and which according to the general assumption enunciated above should have contained discipleship language, have replaced it with something akin and comparable to disciple terminology. K. H. Rengstorf provides some clarity on this issue when he notices that the book of Acts applies the term “disciple” to all believers, to Christians in general (cf. Acts 9:1; 13:52; 14:20; 16:1; 21:4, 16), but identifies that this is not the only term used by Luke to describe Christians. He also uses “believers,” “saints,” “brethren,” etc. Rengstorf suggests that the reason the Greek communities stopped using the term μαθητής to speak about believers was probably because “it tends to suggest that Christianity is simply a philosophical movement rather than personal fellowship with Christ as Lord.”70 Therefore, he argues for a sociological, and not necessarily theological, reason behind the absence of discipleship language.

The Meaning of the Term “Disciple” in the NT

The equivalent term for μαθητής in the Hebrew Scripture is talmid, which occurs only once, in 1 Chronicles 25:8. In the LXX, it does not even appear.71 According to Rengstorf, the reason for this absence is that the Hebrew Bible does not want to differentiate between a special group and the rest of the people, for God has chosen the whole people to learn God’s will, not a select group. Therefore, one cannot speak of a teacher-disciple relationship. The prophets of the Hebrew Bible were seemingly organized in guilds (“the sons of the prophets” in 2 Kgs 2:5, 7, 15, etc.), sharing the same charismatic endowment rather than devotion to a leader. Rengstorf notes that, for example, Joshua is the servant of Moses, but when Moses is gone Joshua enjoys full authority on his own, authority given by God (see Num 27:15–17; Josh 1:2–5). He is appointed as leader of the people by God, not by Moses. In the same manner, Elisha is commissioned by God, and receives authority directly from God, not from Elijah (2 Kgs 2:9–12; 3:11–12). Elisha’s relationship to Elijah is more that of a servant, an assistant or even a son, for he calls Elijah “father” (2 Kgs 2:12). Elisha, in turn, is called “father” by Joash, the king of Israel (2 Kgs 13:14). This same kind of relationship seems to be that of Baruch and Jeremiah’s (Jer 36:4–8). In other words, the teacher-disciple relationship, so prevalent in the Gospels, is non-existent in the Hebrew Scriptures.

The other problem that Rengstorf points out is that of an absence of the so-called “principle” of tradition. By this, he means the desire to fulfill the master’s intention and to preserve his sayings. This, which is a characteristic feature of the Greek philosophical world, is also missing in the Hebrew Scriptures, where Moses is not venerated as a liberator or founder of a religion, but more as the one on whose shoulders everyone who succeeds him stands.72 The reason for these distinctions, Rengstorf suggests, is that the religion of Israel is a religion of revelation. God reveals God’s will to the people through inspired stewards. Moses is one of them. He is presented as God’s minister (Exod 4:10–12), who acts on God’s behalf, not his own. His legislation comes from God, who is the Master or Teacher on whose name he, and the other stewards, speaks.73

But Rengstorf’s argument can be challenged on more than one count. First, even though the members of the prophetic guild enjoyed the same charismatic endowment, leadership was still recognized. Elisha calls Elijah “father” (2 Kgs 2:12) and the company of the prophets staying at Jericho refer to Elijah as Elisha’s “master” (2 Kgs 2:5). In the notes to the Harper Collins Study Bible, Robert Wilson states that “father” is a traditional title used for the head of a prophetic guild and also often used by a disciple speaking to a master.74 Secondly, one could say that Elisha’s petition to receive a double share of Elijah’s spirit points to Elisha’s special status as his successor, one who in many ways outshines his master. So even though the Spirit is equally distributed among all of the prophets, some have access to a privileged status by virtue of their relationship to the head of the guild. The other members of the prophetic guild recognize this when they say: “The spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha” (2 Kgs 2:15). Their recognition of Elisha’s leadership role follows immediately, for they “bowed to the ground before him” (2 Kgs 2:15). Thirdly, Rengstorf’s idea that the principle of tradition is absent in the Hebrew Bible may be true, but still Elisha starts his ministry invoking the power of Elijah. There is perhaps no desire to fulfill the master’s intention and to preserve his sayings, but certainly Elisha starts his prophetic ministry invoking the God of Elijah (2 Kgs 2:14). If not preservation of sayings, at least we could talk of continuation of ministries, as well as an acknowledgment of the same source of power.

When we consider Jesus’ ministry, the parallelisms are striking. First, by coming to John to be baptized he acknowledges John’s leadership. Second, by being recognized as the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit, his independence and supremacy over John is established. This is confirmed by the miracles performed by Jesus, which clearly outshines John, who is never said to have performed miracles. Thirdly, by calling God “Father,” Jesus acknowledges God as the Master and Teacher. He never calls John “father,” but invites his disciples to do so with God, thus placing himself at the same level with his co-disciples in identifying the God of Israel as the ultimate source of power. This language betrays a master-discipleship relation between God and the group of followers, of whom he is but another member. Rengstorf recognizes that Jesus’ call to discipleship represents a call to partnership in service, something that comes out in sayings (Matt 5:13–16; John 17:13–15), parables (Matt 25:14–30), and specific directions (Matt 10:5–15; Mark 6:6b–13).75

The term μαθητής is also missing in the LXX. This means that the only literary source for its usage in the gospels is the Greek environment, where it is used to denote the idea of pupil, one engaged in learning in relationship to a teacher. In a broader sense, we also find it used as pointing to an intellectual link between people who are not in direct physical relationship but rather distant in time as, for example, Socrates being a disciple of Homer.76 But among philosophers, the term is highly nuanced. It is used to talk about a pupil, which simply refers to someone who gains knowledge or skill under expert direction. When understood in this way, μαθητής is used alongside other terms that ensure the independence and dignity of the student.77 It is also used to denote a master-disciple relationship. This usage of the term is especially important for Socrates, Plato, and the Academy. The goal of these philosophers is not information for a fee, but more the idea of a fellowship where the teacher/master offers himself, rather than his knowledge. This is reinforced by the practice of common meals. In Plato’s Academy, for example, this is a salient feature, and the director is regarded as the first among equals.78

The Mystery religions provide another context for the master-disciple relationship. Here, both the learning that takes place, as well as the master’s personality, are secondary to the main purpose, which is that the initiate may enter into fellowship with the deity. Accordingly, the term μαθητής is not used.79

Perhaps the closest resemblance to the idea of discipleship in the NT is what happens with some of the philosophers of the Greek and Hellenistic world such as Pythagoras, Epicurus, and Apollonius. In each of these cases, the person of the philosopher acquires great relevance, sometimes even to the point of being considered a god or at least more than human, whereby their disciples develop a sense of being a religious and moral community committed to spreading the fame of the founder.80 Many of these groups associated with great teachers continued even after the death of their leaders, forming religious unions with the responsibility of presenting the leader’s ideas and concerns to the wider world. Rengstorf says that “loyalty to the teaching of the master finds expression in the principle of tradition, i.e., the desire to fulfill his intentions and preserve his sayings.”81 This is exemplified especially by the Epicureans and the Stoics who took special care in handling down their teachers’ sayings, even though this was done without an explicit reference to παράδοσις as the actual process of transmission, which at this time was generally accepted in practice.82

The Rabbinic movement, which came after the birth of the gospel traditions, made use of the term talmid to refer to someone who is a student of Scripture and its interpretation. Though, ideally, every Israelite is to study the law under God as the supreme Teacher, it is only some who actually become experts in the law and constitute a sort of guild where people are admitted by ordination and who offer authoritative answers to disputed matters.83 These are the ones referred to as talmid. The term designates a member of a school or tradition who is bound to obedience and submission to a teacher for whom the student performs even menial tasks. The school develops out of a specific teacher’s interpretation of the law and these teachers may at times hold opposing views. An example of such is the schools of Hillel and Shammai. The teachers, rabbis, are thus engaged in a rereading or reappropriation of the traditions, and this becomes the distinctive mark of that particular school. But no rabbi can go beyond what the law teaches, and especially beyond Moses, who is regarded as the absolute teacher. The law is the supreme authority and this limits the authority of individual teachers.84 Even though Moses always remains a mediator of the divine will, the emphasis on his person is akin with how the philosophical schools treated their founders. Therefore, concludes Rengstorf, there are obvious Hellenistic influences in the rabbinic movement’s conceptualization of the teacher-disciple relationship, an influence that can be seen even in the writings of Josephus who calls Joshua the μαθητής of Moses and Elisha the μαθητής of Elijah, and describes the four sects of the Judaism of his time as philosophical schools.85

The question for our enquiry is: which are the particular influences behind Mark’s use of the word μαθητής, and what might he mean by that. A number of things need to be pointed out:

First, Mark writes for a Greek-speaking audience, which may have been familiar with the teacher-disciple relationship of the Hellenistic world. When they read about Jesus having disciples, they would immediately connect with this tradition. But then Mark goes on to tell a story in which this relationship is qualified and fleshed out.

Second, Mark engages the prophetic tradition of the Hebrew Scriptures by mentioning Elijah and utilizing parts of the books of Daniel and Isaiah. He refers to John the Baptist as the Elijah who was to come and makes Jesus initially subservient to John in a teacher-disciple relationship. Then Mark goes on to show Jesus’ superiority to John, while still making Jesus subservient to a higher vision, that of God’s kingdom, into which he calls people as disciples to help him construct this vision.

Third, Mark writes before the arrival of the rabbinic age, but during a time when the teachings of famous rabbis such as Paul of Tarsus, Hillel, and Shammai were widely known. He may have evaluated these great rabbis as teachers and his followers as disciples who were intent on preserving their teachings but when it came to Jesus, he wanted to modify this idea. Jesus is presented not so much as the teacher and master but as one who models true discipleship. He is a disciple of God, whose primary mission is to embody the values of God’s kingdom to such an extent that suffering and even death will constitute the distinguishing mark of his discipleship. Jesus’ disciples are therefore not those who preserve his teachings only, but also those who are challenged to imitate him even to the point of sharing in his own destiny of suffering and death (Mark 10:38–39). This is hardly what was expected of the disciple of a philosopher. Therefore, Mark utilizes the cultural wrapping of the concept disciple, but reappropriates it by placing it at the service of a higher vision, the soon-to-arrive kingdom of God.

Fourth, Mark is a contemporary of Josephus who, as we said above, referred to the Jewish sects of his time, the Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes, and Zealots, as philosophical schools. This way of referring to the followers of a given teacher may have become customary in Jewish-Hellenistic circles, for Mark also talks about the disciples of John the Baptist (2:18; 6:29) and the Pharisees (2:18). Therefore, Mark adopts this way of referring to the followers of a prominent leader/teacher, but when it comes to Jesus he modifies it, for Jesus’ disciples are not to be compared to the disciples of other teachers. What they do is even shocking for their contemporaries’ views of discipleship (Mark 2:18–22; 23–28).

Therefore, I propose that Mark is qualifying the Hellenistic idea of discipleship and master-disciple relationship by using Jesus as the supreme example. Unlike the disciples of the philosophers, Jesus’ disciples are not to transmit their teacher’s ideas but rather to commit themselves to the person of Jesus, as he is committed to the God of Israel. They are to obey Jesus to the point of leaving everything and following him, just as Jesus left his home in Galilee to follow the vision initially given him by John the Baptist. They are to suffer as a consequence of their witnessing, as John the Baptist did and as Jesus will. In that sense, discipleship becomes very similar to the work of the prophet, that of denouncing the powers that be in the name of the God of Israel, or, as in the case of the disciples, with the gospel message. In this, Jesus is an example too. The main task of the disciples is to witness to what God is doing in the world through Jesus’ work. As they witness, they are invited to participate in Jesus’ work as co-disciples, following the one who fulfills this role ideally. I believe Mark is intentionally constructing this model because his community was experiencing a time when such a model was either weakening or non-existent.

The Occurrences of the Term “Son of Man” in the NT

In chapter 4 of the present work, I explore in depth Mark’s unique appropriation of the term “Son of Man.” Nevertheless, I believe it is important at this point to attempt to explain its usage in the NT. Even so, our investigation will be brief, given the massive amount of work already done on the subject.86 Scholars still continue to debate the meaning of the expression “Son of Man,” but it is not my intention, nor is this the place, to discuss the intricacies of such debate. I will limit myself to mention the most common ways of explaining the term and opt for one of them as my working hypothesis.

The expression “Son of Man” (ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ ἀνθρώπου) occurs almost exclusively in the Synoptic Gospels and John,87 and is practically missing in the rest of the NT. It occurs twice in Revelation (1:13; 14:14), once in Hebrews 2:6, and once in Acts 7:56. In each one of these last four instances, there is an inter-textual connection with either the Hebrew Bible or the Synoptic Gospels, which shows the secondary nature of its use. Revelation 1:13 and 14:14 allude to Daniel 7:13, Hebrews 2:6 is part of a quotation from Psalm 8, and Acts 7:56 refers back to Luke 22:69. Strangely enough, Paul never uses the expression “Son of Man,” although he makes a reference to the παρουσία of Jesus Christ in 1 Thessalonians 4:17 in ways that point unmistakably to Daniel 7:13.88

In terms of chronology, we can be fairly certain that all of these non-Synoptic occurrences come from after 70 CE and, therefore, are later than Mark. I suggest that the chronological order would first be Mark, followed by Matthew, Luke, Acts, Hebrews, and Revelation. Of course, Mathew and Luke use the logia source Q and therefore some of their Son of Man sayings have to be traced back to that source rather than Mark.89 But at least with the evidence that we have in the NT, it is important to notice that Mark seems to be the first author who introduces the expression “Son of Man” and who puts it on Jesus’ lips. He also introduces the word “disciple,” as we said above, but unlike “Son of Man,” this word is never found on Jesus’ lips. These two expressions are innovative ways of talking about both Jesus and the believers, different at least from the way Paul refers to them. In and of itself, this makes Mark a very creative Christologist.

The fact that the Son of Man sayings appear in other independent sources such as Q, the Gospel of Thomas, and the Gospel of the Hebrews90 seems to suggest that this tradition was pretty strong. We have three independent witnesses to the use of this expression in the Jesus tradition. Because of this evidence, many scholars agree that the historical Jesus probably used this expression himself. Now, which of the sayings ought to be traced back to Jesus, and which to the early church, is still a matter of contention. We will not attempt to solve this conundrum here, but rather, take all of the sayings as they appear in the Gospel of Mark and try to make sense out of them as part of the evangelist’s story. That is to say that, in Mark’s story world, Jesus is the Son of Man. Why was it necessary for Mark to stress this aspect of Jesus? Why wasn’t Paul interested in it? Why is this tradition relegated almost exclusively to the Gospels? What does it tell us about the Christology of the evangelists as opposed to that of other NT writers such as Paul, for example? These are some of the questions this book seeks to address.

The fact that the expression “Son of Man” is limited to the Gospels and their sources and to a few other instances in the NT (see above), but is completely missing in Paul’s letters, bespeaks of the Christological diversity of the early church. By that I mean the different and creative ways by which the followers of Jesus of Nazareth tried to explain to themselves and to the world the impact this person had on their communities. In order to do so, they deploy a number of expressions, some of which became later “Christological titles,” for example, Son of God, Son of Man, Lord, etc., whose function was originally descriptive. Relying on the traditions available to them but also on their ethnic and cultural background (Greek, Aramaic, Jewish), these communities appropriated the Jesus traditions so as to suit their need for identity and survival in a world of confusion, dislocation, and death.

But even among the gospel writers, there is Christological diversity. If we assume the Markan priority theory as one way of assessing this diversity, especially when it comes to a particular tradition such as the Son of Man tradition, we must list those passages that parallel Mark and notice any editorial changes made by Matthew and Luke. And we must do the same with those passages that do not parallel Mark, those that come from their common source Q or from their particular materials, and notice how they modify—or not—Mark’s picture.

Uses of Son of Man in Mark and in Parallels

1. The earthly Son of Man.

Mark’s depiction of the Son of Man as one who is to suffer, die, and rise finds an appropriate correlation in Matthew and Luke’s account, which also refer this image to the historical Jesus. The pertinent passages are:

• Mark 8:31 (Luke 9:22)

• Mark 9:9 (Matt 17:9)

• Mark 9:12 (Matt 17:12)

• Mark 9:31 (Matt 17:22; Luke 9:44)

• Mark 10:33 (Matt 20:18; Luke 18:31)

• Mark 10:45 (Matt 20:28)

• Mark 14:21 (Matt 26:24; Luke 22:22)

• Mark 14:41 (Matt 26:45)

In all of these instances, Matthew and Luke follow Mark not only when the context clearly points towards Jesus as the Son of Man, (for example, Mark 14:17–21/Matt 26:20–25; Luke 22:21–23), but also when the link between the Son of Man and the historical Jesus is not so clear (the rest of the examples above). And at least once, Matthew adds the personal pronoun “he” to Mark’s account (Mark 8:31/Matt 16:21), thus equating the Son of Man with the Messiah and with the historical Jesus, a theological move that the other evangelists seem to imply but not offer explicitly.

“Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” . . . Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah. From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem. (Matt 16:13–21)

Mark’s use of Son of Man meaning “human being” is found in 2:10 (/Matt 9:6; Luke 5:24) and in 2:28 (/Matt 12:8; Luke 6:5). In the first instance, the Son of Man is said to have authority on earth to forgive sins. In the second the Son of Man is declared as being Lord of the Sabbath. In both examples, Jesus is the immediate textual referent to the Son of Man. He is the one who expropriates the scribes’ right to interpret who mediates God’s forgiveness—it is God who forgives, not Jesus, as the Greek passive verb ἀφίενται denotes—for even though the priests in the temple are agents of God’s forgiveness, they do not forgive sins: God does.

But the evangelist seems to think differently. In verse 10, he affirms that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.91 He seems to be not solely an agent, but the generator of the forgiveness. But probably this is not the case, especially if Mark is recalling here the imagery of Daniel 7, where one like a son of man is given authority by the Ancient of Days (God) to rule earthly nations at the eschaton. So, as Joel Marcus reminds us, “[the] heavenly God remains the ultimate forgiver, but at the climax of history he has delegated his power of absolution to a ‘Son of Man’ who carries out his gracious will in the earthly sphere.”92 But the difference with the Danielic figure is that this Son of Man exercises his authority through forgiveness of sins, not through the overcoming of his enemies, as is the case in Daniel 7. In that sense, this may represent a novelty on the part of the evangelist, who is bent on counteracting the messianic ideology of the Jewish revolutionaries.93

Now, if the Son of Man is a communal symbol representing God’s people, as we will propose throughout this work, then the forgiveness of sins is enacted by the community he represents. Soteriology then is linked to a people, not to an individual savior (see chapter 6 of this work). We can see this idea surfacing in Mark 2:27–28, when Jesus says “The Sabbath was made for humankind (ὁ ἂνθρωπος) and not humankind for the Sabbath; so the Son of Man is lord even of the Sabbath.” Interestingly enough, neither Matthew nor Luke includes this affirmation, thus making the lordship of the Son of Man more of an individual feat than a communal responsibility. But, if according to Mark, Jesus is the representative of the community, then what the evangelist is really saying is that it is the community that has the right to decide how to interpret the Torah in relation to Sabbath observance. This obviously puts them at odds with other Jewish Christian communities at the time. Both groups are represented in the text, one by the Scribes and Pharisees, the other by Jesus. We will come back to this in chapter 5.

2. The eschatological Son of Man.

Mark’s depiction of the Son of Man as a heavenly figure, who is to come in the clouds of heaven, is followed very closely by Matthew and Luke. In Mark 8:38/Matt 16:27, and Luke 9:26, the Son of Man comes in his Father’s glory; in Mark 13:26/Matt 24:30, and Luke 21:27, he is coming in clouds; in Mark 14:62/Matt 26:64, and Luke 22:69, he is sitting at the right hand of God. In each of these contexts, the Son of Man is depicted in Danielic fashion as possessing power and glory bestowed by God the Father. He is an agent of God’s final eschatological retributive justice. Matthew and Luke do not add any particular theological insight to Mark. Even when Luke fails to mention in 22:69 that the sitting Son of Man will return to earth riding on the clouds, he nevertheless acknowledges this return in other parts of the narrative (9:26; 21:27; cf. Acts 1:9–11).

Use of Son of Man in Q

The most popular hypothesis about the Son of Man traditions in Q is that they were added later, when the messengers of Q met with opposition from their fellow Jews and reacted with a proclamation of judgment that was going to be brought about by Jesus as Son of Man.94 This approach has created the perception that what we have at play in Q, at a Christological level, is a two-stage Son of Man Christology. In the first stage, the Son of Man is presented in ways that coincide with the experience of the community as marginal, lacking theological acceptability, and social status. In the second, he is presented as coming in victory to vindicate his suffering people.95 I believe this is a possible way of explaining the nature of Q as a community-produced document.96 The circumstances of the community influenced the way in which the oral traditions were appropriated. In other words, their praxis shaped their theology. Or to put it in Liberation Theology terms, theology became a second step after praxis.97 What we have in Q then, is the testimony of a community struggling for self-identity couched in apologetically driven rhetoric that utilizes the image of the Son of Man as a catalyst for this conflict. Let us consider now the passages in Q that refer to the Son of Man. As in the Markan tradition, they fall into two categories: the earthly Son of Man and the eschatological Son of Man.

1. The earthly Son of Man.

Luke 6:22 (/Matt 5:11). The Lukan version of the Sermon on the Mount—the Sermon on the Plain—says that the disciples are blessed when they are reviled “on account of the Son of Man.” The parallel in Matthew reads “on account of me,” thus clearly identifying the Son of Man with the historical Jesus. Even though Luke seems to be referring to a future coming figure (cf. also 3:16; 7:19; 13:35), the immediacy of the beatitude being addressed to the disciples in the second person plural “you” shows that, for Luke, allegiance to the Son of Man has immediate consequences: people hate, exclude, revile, and defame the disciples now! The emphasis is on a present-day experience, not something that will happen in the future. The suffering modeled by the Markan Son of Man, which Luke includes in his gospel (9:22, 44; 18:31; 22:22), has already begun in the life of the post-Easter community.

Luke 7:34 (/Matt 11:18). In this passage, the reference to the Son of Man is clearly directed to Jesus, whose lifestyle is contrasted with that of John the Baptist. Both John and the Son of Man “have come” (ἐλήλυθεν).Their ministries are still fresh in the community’s memory,98 giving people food for thought. And they are still controversial figures for the religious authorities, each on their own terms, one for his asceticism and the other for his apparent excesses.

Luke 9:58 (/Matt 8:20). The itinerant and uncertain lifestyle of Jesus is presented as a challenge to those who wanted to become his disciples. Again, even though Jesus seems to be talking about another person when referring to the Son of Man, he is obviously referring to himself, since the prospective disciples promise to follow him “wherever you go.” The community that produced and/or received this tradition knows that a lifestyle of duress and deprivation is in store for them if they decide to become disciples.

Luke 11:30 (/Matt 12:40–41). This passage can go both ways. It can refer to the historical ministry of Jesus of Nazareth, in which case the sign of Jonah has to be interpreted as Jesus’ prophetic proclamation against the religious authorities. But while Jesus’ proclamation will not engender a positive response, i.e., repentance, Jonah’s did, as attested in verse 32. The irony resides in the fact that for Luke, Jesus is greater than Jonah! Or it can also be interpreted in a futuristic manner, as referring to an eschatological figure who was to come and to whom Jesus bore witness, advising people to prepare for. When the Son of Man comes, Jesus says, he might find faithlessness and hardness of heart, rather than willingness to repent (cf. Luke 18:8).

These are all the Q passages that point towards an earthly Son of Man and his ministry. Whether this refers to Jesus or to one coming in the near future is difficult to assess, given the fact that this tradition has been woven into the theological frame of the Gospels, where Jesus is unmistakably identified with the Son of Man. However, what is clear is that no eschatological grandeur and power is attached to this personage but rather, the opposite, namely: rejection, hatred, criticism, and social deprivation.

2. The eschatological Son of Man.

Luke 12:8 (/Matt 10:32). Here Jesus is warning his disciples—and also the crowd (12:1, 13)—about the dangers of denying him before others. If this happens, Jesus says, the Son of Man will deny them before the angels of God, a clear reference to the eschatological judgment, also referenced by Mark in 8:38 and 13:24–27. There is no textual indication in Luke, nor for that matter in Mark, that this Son of Man is equated with the historical Jesus. That connection is made by the Gospel narrative at large, but not necessarily by the Q tradition. That is why it is necessary for Matthew to clarify this point. The Matthean parallel reads: “Whoever denies me before others, I also will deny before my Father in heaven” (Matt 10:33). Matthew does something similar in 5:11, where he changes the Q tradition to read “on account of me” rather than “on account of the Son of Man,” as Luke 6:22 has it.

Luke 12:10 (/Matt 12:32). This is the Q version of the Markan tradition about blaspheming the Holy Spirit (Mark 3:28–30). In Mark, this blasphemy is perpetuated when people, in this case the scribes, affirm that Jesus’ power to heal comes from the devil. For Mark, questioning Jesus’ source of power amounts to sinning against the Holy Spirit. Not so for Luke, who seems to make a distinction between speaking against the Son of Man, which is forgivable, and blaspheming the Holy Spirit, which is not. In this way, Luke seems to differentiate between the Son of Man and the historical Jesus.

Luke 12:40 (/Matt 24:44). The text speaks about the sudden and unexpected coming of the Son of Man to usher in the kingdom which, although promised to the disciples, has yet to be materialized in their lives (cf. 12:32). Readiness, alertness, and diligent work are required from them if they expect to be welcomed into the kingdom. Otherwise, their fate will be with the unfaithful (12:46). For Q, it is the Son of Man, an eschatological figure, who is the agent of God’s kingdom. But this figure is never clearly identified with the historical Jesus, an accomplishment of the overall theological work of the evangelists for whom Jesus is the Son of Man.

Luke 17:22, 24, 26, 30 (/Matt 24:27, 37, 39). Here, Luke uses the Q tradition that talks about the “days of the Son of Man.” This is a tradition unique to Q, not appearing in any of the other gospels or in the rest of the NT. Luke uses it to theologically qualify the apocalyptic tradition of the end times, which is used by Mark and other NT writers. Interestingly enough, Matthew has replaced the expression τῶν ἡμερῶν τοῦ υἱοῦ τοῦ ἀνθρώπου with the word παρουσία, betraying knowledge of the Pauline tradition on the same subject (cf. 1 Thess 2:19; 3:13; 4:15; 5:23; 1 Cor 15:23). An analysis of the section provides us with a good sense of how Luke supplements the tradition with his own editorial work. The passage in question is Luke 17:22–37:

Verse 22: Lukan redaction. We think this verse represents a Lukan introduction to the Q motif of the days of the Son of Man meant to address the issue of the delay of the end times. The fact that Matthew omits it shows that the verse is not in Q or, if it is, that he still expects the eschaton to occur soon and, therefore, does not include it.

Verse 23: Q’s version of the tradition behind Mark 13:21. We assume here that Luke is quoting Q, rather than Mark, because Matthew also uses it—although he adds “do not believe it,” which seems to betray knowledge of Mark 13:21. Matthew, unlike Luke, will use it again in 24:23, but this time quoting straight from Mark.

Verse 24: Q. The theme of the days of the Son of Man is restated.

Verse 25: Lukan redaction. He takes the reference to suffering and rejection from the Markan tradition about Jesus’ prediction of his death (see above).

Verses 26–27: Q. The theme of the Son of Man in his day is compared with the days of Noah. The catastrophic end of the pre-flood world is made into a model, or a type, of what is going to happen in the day of the Son of Man.

Verses 28–29: Lukan redaction. The theme of the fate of Sodom as a warning and reminder of what is going to happen at the final judgment is from Q (Luke 10:12/Matt 10:15), but Luke is not quoting directly from that document. This is seen by the fact that Matthew omits it. It looks more like his own midrash on Genesis 19:24–26.

Verse 30: Q. Once again, we have the theme of the Son of Man in his day. The threefold repetition of the theme is already found in Q. Therefore, Matthew includes it in his gospel also (cf. Matt 24:26–28).

Verse 31: Mark. Here, Luke seems to be using his Markan source independently from Q, since Matthew omits it.

Verse 32: Lukan redaction. This is part of the midrash we mentioned above.

Verse 33: Q. This seems to be Q’s version of the tradition behind Mark 8:35.

Verses 34–35: Q. Notice how Matthew uses the image of two in the field rather than two in one bed, thus moving the action from the house, the domain of females, into the outside world, the domain of males.

Verse 36: Some MSS omit this verse. It reads: “Two will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left.” We assume it is from Q, because Matthew uses it (24:40) and it is missing in Mark. The fact that Luke has replaced it with the image of two sleeping in the same bed is very interesting, since the gender of those mentioned is masculine! (ὁ ἑις and ὁ ἕτερος).

Verse 37: Q. This saying is obviously from Q, for Matthew uses it also.

Following Q, Luke affirms that the day of the Son of Man, who through his redactional work he equates with the historical Jesus, will be a day of judgment comparable to the days of Noah and Lot, when God’s wrath poured relentlessly over the whole of humanity and over the city of Sodom. But this day will be also a day of vindication for the faithful, the chosen ones, who “cry to him day and night.” This is made clear by the Lukan material that follows immediately in 18:1–8 and which seems to deal with anxiety on the part of the believers due to the delay of the end times. In this way, the section represented by 17:22—18:8 comes to a close as a self-contained piece. It also closes Luke’s famous “Large insertion,” 9:1—18:14.

It is clear then that for Q, and for Luke and Matthew, the Son of Man is more of an individual figure similar to the one described in 4 Ezra and 1 Enoch who will inaugurate God’s judgment on his day, an event akin to that described in the Hebrew Scriptures (cf. Joel 1:15; 2:1–2; Amos 5:18–20; Isa 2:11–22, 13:6–19; Ezek 30:1–4; Zeph 1:2—2:13). The Markan understanding of this figure is more corporate than individualistic, as we demonstrate in chapter 4, and it is pretty much missing from Q and also from Luke and Matthew, except when they use Mark. But even when they do that, they make sure to highlight the individual aspect of the Son of Man. I suggest that the reason for this is that the community behind Q had experienced so much rejection by their contemporaries and so much disappointment because of the delay of the end times that they were not invested in becoming conduits of salvation for the world. They were waiting anxiously to be rescued from their present situation, vindicated, and welcomed into the kingdom. Something similar may be said about the Lukan and Matthean communities. They were aware of being part of the Greco Roman world and of having a mission in it. Matthew ends his gospel with the Great Commission (Matt 28:16–20), and Luke writes a second volume in which he describes this mission as exemplified ideally by the early church. But he still maintains an eschatological expectation made clear by the ascension narrative (Luke 24:50–53; Acts 1:6–11), which promises the coming of the risen Christ from heaven at a certain point in the now extended future.

Nothing like this is to be found in Mark, as I explore in depth in chapter 4. The experience of the Markan community was different. They were invested in participating in the redemption of the world via self sacrifice for the gospel, and they envisioned a time when the Son of Man, the risen Christ, was going to reissue the mission from Galilee, only that this time the community was going to be empowered to carry it on, thus acting as agents in the establishment of God’s kingdom on earth.

The Use of Son of Man in “M” and “L”

In chapters 13 and 25, Matthew uses the expression “Son of Man” again (13:37, 41; 25:31), but this time utilizing exclusive material that does not appear in either Mark or Q. There are recurrent themes in both passages: a) the kingdom of heaven is the prevailing metaphor, explicitly mentioned in 13:24 and 25:1. It is also referred to as the “kingdom of their Father” in 13:43. b) People are separated into two groups, the righteous and the unrighteous, exemplified by the weeds and the wheat and the sheep and the goats. c) The Son of Man is both the sower and the eschatological judge sending his angels to gather people for the final judgment. As he has done before, Matthew makes it clear that this Son of Man is the historical Jesus. He does so by supplementing the parable of the sower from Mark, where the sower is equated with Jesus (see my analysis in chapter 3), with the parable of the weeds, where the sower is identified with the Son of Man (13:37). He also makes the ethical responsibility of the righteous toward the weak and marginal members of society to be the main qualifier or disqualifier for entering the kingdom. The idea here is that, in the absence of Jesus, the believers find him in the lives of the marginalized. d) Shining like the sun in 13:43 and eternal life in 25:46 are also similar images.