Read the Gospel of Mark

January 9, 2021

Everyone is encouraged to read the gospel of Mark during the season of Epiphany, which ends on Ash Wednesday, Feb.17.  This is the shortest gospel, only 16 chapters!  Here is a link to a very interesting video overview of the book.  Use it to get you motivated!
https://www.facebook.com/jointhebibleproject/videos/the-gospel-according-to-mark/660482354155162/
 
Then grab your Bible and start reading and/or watch the wonderful production of each chapter on 
produced by theFellowship for Performing Arts. It is powerfully performed by Max McLean.
(Go to YouTube and type: Fellowship for Performing Arts, Gospel of Mark)
https://youtu.be/Un3gSYkd0ds

Reflections: Mark 1-4:34 The Gospel of Mark gets right to the point: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ.” This gospel is the earliest of the four and the foundational document for Matthew and Luke (the other synoptic gospels, meaning they have a similar narrative style and timeline). It’s a Dragnet-Joe Friday style approach, with “Just the facts.” Mark is skimpy on scene-setting details but offers a laser-focus on Jesus as miracle-worker and Messiah.   As a reader, fasten your seatbelt and hold on tight: in these first few chapters, Jesus is baptized, wanders in the wilderness, gathers his disciples, casts out demons, heals lepers, and takes on the Pharisees. But don’t let yourself feel whiplash: remember that this first part of the gospel is all about revealing the nature of Jesus and his ability to defy the earthly powers of imperial Rome and overcome the evil natures of the world. Mark is laying out the case as would a lawyer in court, providing evidence through the life and teaching of Jesus that he is the true Messiah, and through him, our path to salvation.   With this approach, perhaps it’s not surprising that Mark skips over the birth story and jumps right into Jesus’s public ministry, with his baptism by John. The gospel deigns to provide a few telling details about John (he’s dressed in camel’s hair and eats locusts) before showing that John, who some believed to be the messiah, recognizes that “the one who is more powerful” is still to come. When John baptizes Jesus, the heavens are torn apart (as they will be later at his death), and the Holy Spirit descends like a dove. But there’s no time to dawdle with crumpets and tarts for a baptismal reception: the Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness for forty days where he faces—and resists—temptations from Satan.   Upon Jesus’s return to Galilee, he begins to gather his disciples. We see here an urgency that is a common theme throughout Mark. When Jesus says to, “Follow me,” Simon and Andrew “immediately” leave their nets and follow him. It appears there was no weighing of pros and cons, no succession plan for their fishing enterprise. These men followed faithfully and immediately—an inspiration and challenge to Christians today. In the passages that follow, we witness Jesus’s miracles—“a new teaching—with authority!” Jesus casts out unclean spirits and heals Simon’s mother-in-law; he cures many who are sick with disease and demons and makes well both a leper and a paralytic man. The religious authorities start to take note of this unusual man who heals the sick and forgives the sinners. They begin to talk among themselves: “Why does this fellow speak in this way? It is blasphemy!” Throughout the readings for this week and indeed the entire gospel, the religious leaders question Jesus—about who he eats with, who he heals, and how he treats the sabbath and other laws of the land. Jesus threatens the status quo and upends the power structures of the day. And these leaders do not plan to go gently into that good night.   Now come  a series of parables that are likely familiar to many Christians today. The sower plants seeds, some on rocky soil and some on good soil. This parable teaches a lesson about fertilizing our soil with prayer, praise, worship, and service so that our faith may grow and flourish. In another parable, Jesus gives us the words to a favorite childhood song, “This Little Light of Mine,” imploring us to let our faith shine as a light to the world, not as a lamp hidden under a basket or bed.   In the last parable in this section of scripture,  Jesus compares the kingdom of God not to a beautiful rose or the fruit of a tree but to the mustard seed. Just as this smallest of all the seeds on earth can grow into the greatest of all shrubs, so too can Jesus pierce the darkness, transforming a spark of faith into a shining light.

 

Mark 4:35—6:56   Miracles and healings and, predictably, more doubt and questions. These verses show the divine power of Jesus as he displays his reign over the natural world, from calming the storms to driving out unclean spirits, from healing the sick to raising the dead, from multiplying five loaves and two fishes to walking on water. And still, despite all the evidence in front of them, the people of the day and even the disciples have trouble believing in Jesus as the Son of God. It’s easy for us today to belittle the crowds and disciples for their “unbelief,” but this character trait connects humans through the ages. If we don’t understand it, if something can’t be explained by reason or science or tradition, we question it. How could this be? When confounded by a situation, we dismiss it rather than allow for the possibility of miracles in our midst.   After Jesus commands the wind and gives permission for unclean spirits to enter 2,000 swine (who subsequently drown in the sea), we hear about Jesus healing the daughter of Jairus as well as a woman plagued by bleeding. Interestingly, both stories include the number twelve (the age of the daughter and the number of years the woman has been sick). Like the numbers three and seven, twelve has a special place in biblical symbolism. Considered a “perfect” number that reflects the authority and power of God’s kingdom, the number twelve appears nearly 200 times in the Bible: Jacob has twelve sons; in Leviticus, God commands twelve loaves of unleavened bread to be placed in the Tabernacle; Jesus first speaks in the temple at age twelve; and of course, Jesus calls twelve disciples. Biblical numerologists have a heyday with Revelation, especially chapter 21, with twelve in a starring role as the number of gates, angels, pearls, and more. Whether the inclusion of the number twelve is happenstance or purposeful in these passages from Mark is up for discussion, but Mark tends to be stingy with details unless there’s a reason.   All of these miracles have set the townspeople aflutter. You can imagine the chatter: “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands!” And we encounter the famous prophet-without-honor-in-the-hometown dig: “Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?” Haters gonna hate. I’m just thankful there was no social media in Jesus’s day. We get a glimpse of what seems to be frustration from Jesus (“he was amazed by their unbelief”), but he doesn’t let their skepticism dissuade him from his saving mission, and the healings and miracles continue.   Soon we encounter the horrific story of the beheading of John the Baptist. This is the longest version of this story, though it appears in all three synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke). This gruesome account offers a cautionary tale of the excesses of fear, greed, power, and manipulation. It also marks a turning point in the ministry of Jesus. Just as Jesus’s public ministry began with his baptism by John the Baptist, John’s murder is the beginning of Jesus’s turn to Jerusalem and his own gruesome death.   This scripture selection ends with two familiar and well-loved miracles. The Feeding of the 5,000 miracle, the only one recorded in all four gospels, offers both an example of Christ’s divinity and a foreshadowing of the Last Supper, as Jesus “looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to his disciples to set before the people.” While folks are packing up the leftovers (twelve! baskets full), the disciples head to their boat to cross the Sea of Galilee. When a storm rises, the disciples battle the wind, and Jesus comes to their rescue, literally walking on water to be with them—and us: “Take heart,” Jesus says, yesterday, today, and tomorrow. “It is I. Do not be afraid.”

Mark 7-9:13
At first glance, we might be on the side of the Pharisees here, especially these days with pandemic practices of handwashing and sanitizing. As we begin our week with Mark, Jesus and his disciples are eating with defiled hands, “that is, without washing them,” and the religious leaders are aghast. Of course, the religious leaders aren’t worried about COVID-19 germs here. They’re upset because Jesus (again) isn’t following the religious rules. But Jesus counters, “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.” In other words, their mouths are writing checks that their actions won’t cash.
 
Indeed, Jesus makes the point time and again that what truly matters is the state of the soul. The most ardent rule-follower can have a festering heart. It is from there that evil intentions come, Jesus says. “Fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.”
 
We then encounter a miracle story that, at first reading, seems un-Christ-like. A woman (a Syrophoenician in Mark and a Canaanite in Matthew) brings her daughter to Jesus for healing. Jesus seems to dismiss her pleas, but the woman counters, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Despite what appears to be Jesus’s reticence to offer healing, the woman’s public proclamations of faith see her daughter healed and Jesus’s ministry expanded. The Gospel of Matthew recalls Jesus as saying, “Great is your faith!”, a reminder to us of the value of faith, even when all seems lost.
 
At the end of chapter seven, Jesus performs another miracle by healing a man who is deaf and mute. Again, he orders the man and other witnesses to tell no one. The people are bewildered and amazed, uncertain about the true identity of Jesus. Even when Jesus transforms seven loaves and a few small fish into a meal for four thousand, the people still ask for a sign from heaven. In perhaps the understatement of all understatements, Jesus sighs deeply.
 
Throughout the first part of Mark, we have read numerous miracle stories with people asking who Jesus is, but by the end of our readings this week, Jesus’s identity is apparent. He asks the disciples, “But who do you say that I am?” and Peter answers, “You are the Messiah.” With this pronouncement, we move into the second half of Mark, as the narrative shifts from stories of Jesus’s miracles to his teachings to the disciples. But just as the disciples sometimes have a hard time believing in the miracles, they also struggle with Jesus’s teachings. Jesus tells them that he will undergo great suffering, be killed, and rise again. Peter reminds me of a consummate campaign manager who recognizes that this message won’t sit well with the crowds. He takes Jesus aside, perhaps telling him to soften the words or recast them into more acceptable soundbites, but Jesus isn’t having it. “Get behind me Satan,” he tells Peter. Being a follower of Christ will not be easy, and he won’t add a spoonful of sugar to help make the medicine go down. Deny yourself. Take up your cross. “And those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”
 
Gulp.
 
This section ends with the Transfiguration, one of the pivotal moments of the Christian story. In all three synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke), the Transfiguration follows the confession of Peter that Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ. The Transfiguration is a further revelation of Jesus as the Son of God, as he is transfigured and shines with rays of divine light and joy. The prophets Moses and Elijah appear, and the three talk. Can you imagine the conversation? Peter (again, earnest Peter, bless his heart) offers to stake out the land and build a tent so they may stay there. But we know that we cannot, in this life, stay on the mountaintop. We hear a voice from the cloud, “This is my Son, the beloved,” the type of words we all hope to hear one day, and then they descend the mountain, preparing for the difficult days ahead.

Mark 9:14-11:19
Viewing the Gospel of Mark as a three-act play, our readings for this week move us into Act II, as the focus shifts from Jesus as miracle-worker to Jesus as teacher. To be certain, the Jesus in this account is not one of an endearing mentor who greets students with a warm hug and is gently encouraging. In Mark’s just-the-facts-mam style, Jesus’s teachings are delivered in staccato, like bullet points in a research paper:
·     Whoever wants to be first must be last
·     Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes you
·     Whoever is not against us is for us
 
At times, Jesus seems terse and weary. But who can blame him? He literally has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Despite an array of miracles (including one at the beginning of this week, in which Jesus casts out evil spirits from a young boy), the disciples still don’t quite get it. He tells them directly: “The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.” But they do not understand.
 
Nevertheless, there’s plenty of jockeying for position. Even if the disciples can’t quite fathom the resurrection, they recognize that Jesus is an influential leader, and they want to be considered MVPs. Like children, they argue about who is the greatest among them and, later, who gets to sit at his right and left sides. I imagine Jesus as a frustrated parent, pulling the car onto the shoulder after the backseat bickering reaches a crescendo. “To sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant… whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” And don’t make me pull over again.
 
Jesus’s teachings continue to upend conventional norms. To lead means to serve. The kingdom of God belongs to children. Wealth is not a key to heaven. Jesus shocks the disciples, telling them that “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
 
Throughout the readings, we see Jesus moving into ACT III, his arrival in Jerusalem and ultimately the crucifixion and resurrection. As foretold in Zechariah, Jesus enters from the Mount of Olives, taking a similar path as the traditional lamb sacrificed in the Passover. As Christians, we celebrate this triumphal entry on Palm Sunday, recalling how Jesus rode a simple colt and was welcomed with palms (or, as Mark says, “leafy branches”) and great joy. The people praise, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” But crowds can turn quickly to mobs; these shouts of joy become chants for vengeance. “Crucify him,” these same people will bellow. “Crucify him.”
 
This reading ends with Jesus turning over the tables of the money changers and merchants, a story present in all four gospels. Many scholars consider Jesus’s direct challenge to the authorities to be the trigger for his death just a few short days later. The end is near. But so too is the beginning.
 


 
 

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