This last month I’ve explored some difficult Markan passages and some ways interpreters have dealt with them, but a major conundrum is how to read Mark’s christological presentation as a whole. Basically, Mark seems to divide into two halves with a heavy concentration on power in the first (healings, exorcisms, 2 sea & feeding miracles) and, after Peter’s great confession at Caesarea Philippi (8:27-30), an emphasis on servanthood and suffering (3 passion predictions, the rebuke of Peter as Satan for resisting the divine plan, the discipleship section with its call to self-denial and take up the cross, Passion narrative). Of course, such an outline is not entirely accurate as there are hints in the first half of a mission to die such as the bridegroom to be taken away (2:20) and power in the second half such as Jesus’ miraculous foreknowledge, the supernatural portents at the crucifixion or the resurrection. Yet there is a question whether undergirding the gospel is a theologia gloriae or a theologia crucis. Famous for forcefully arguing the latter, Theodore Weeden (Mark: Traditions in Conflict) put forward that charismatic pneumatics that were also opposed in Paul’s Corinthian correspondence and behind sources such as the Johannine “signs source” or stories of the wonder-working apostles (cf. Acts) infiltrated the evangelist’s community. They presented a “divine man” (theios aner) christology and themselves as heirs of the disciples and prophets who come in Christ’s name to lead believers astray with “signs and wonders” (13:5-6, 21-22). Thus Mark undermines the presentation of a Christology of Power in the first half by focussing exlusively on the journey to the cross in the second half, relentlessly polemicizes against the disciples and attempts to expose and refute traditions inherited in the Gospel with redactional omissions or insertions (e.g., the disciples are denied resurrection appearances at the end and one appearance is relocated to the transfiguraton). Some aspects of Weeden’s thesis have fallen on hard times such as the scholarly construct of the “divine man” from the disparate Greco-Roman sources (side note: I am not sure what is the latest reconstuction of the conflict of Paul with his opponents or “super-apostles” in Corinth if any Pauline bloggers want to help me out?) and Weeden’s own reconstruction of the theology of Mark’s opponents from what he discerns as “tradition” versus “redaction,” but it still is a popular position that Mark has a Pauline emphasis on “Christ crucified” and on power in weakness and polemicizes against other Jesus followers who deny such an emphasis (e.g., the Jerusalem Church which allegedly represented Jesus as authoritative Teacher or Davidic Messiah or apocalyptic Son of Man while neglecting the soteriological significance of the cross).
Alternatively, a few other scholars have argued that Mark presents an overwhelming Christology of power. Robert Gundry’s well-known commentary challenges the idea that Mark was written to a specific “Markan community” and instead argues that Mark was written to outsiders as an apologetic for why Jesus was shamefully crucified. Thus, Mark infuses both halves with a christology of power to show that Jesus is firmly in control of his fate and willingly surrenders his life (e.g., note that even on the cross Jesus does not die with a whimper but a great cry). Although he demurs from Gundry’s judgment that Mark was written for outsiders rather than fellow Jesus-followers (Gundry’s commentary often downplays the significance of Jesus’ instructions of discipleship for those within the community of followers), Adam Winn (The Purpose of Mark’s Gospel: An Early Christian Response to Roman Imperial Propaganda) largely follows Gundry on this point and argues that the presentation of the powerful Messiah is meant to rival the imperial propaganda about the emperor Vespasian in light of his triumph in the Jewish War and ascension to power after a tumultuous period in Rome (e.g., the 3 shortlived emperors after the suicide of Nero). Again, I am not quite sure some of the parallels with Vespasian are as strong as Winn supposes nor sure that Mark was composed in Rome, but I have no problem with the idea that Mark challenges the imperial cult with the “good news” (euangelion) of Jesus Christ. For my part, I wonder if both halves ought to be held in tension and one should not be overemphasized at the expense of the other. On the one hand, in response to real (or perceived) persecution at the hands of political and religious authorities Mark reminds readers about the heavy price of discipleship but also that Jesus is a model to follow as he had already walked the path of humility, extreme suffering and death on their behalf. This also seems to me to partly explain the theme of the messianic secret as Jesus’ messianic identity cannot be fully understood apart from Mark’s redefinition of the task revolving around the cross. On the other hand, it hardly seems to me that the evangelist would spend over half the gospel presenting a “Christology of Power” that (s)he rejected (and indeed there is power in the second half as well) and it would be more comforting to Mark’s readers, not that Jesus was weak, but that Jesus was indeed powerful and after willingly relinquishing his life he was vindicated by God at the empty tomb and will return as the powerful Son of Man to vindicate his suffering followers. Where do you think the weight of Mark’s christology lies – power or suffering?
I am not entirely sure that the dichotomy between power and suffering is really at all adequate in evaluating Mark’s christology. The reason being is that most interpreters who favor this sort of view end up getting lost in a maze of hypothetical sources and communities. My own method for sorting through the many paradoxes of the Gospel is to let them stand as they are and not to assume that every last tension is a result of conflicting testimonies. People aren’t one trick ponies and we shouldn’t expect that the early Christians were either.
Now then, let us get to work. The reason why the Gospel According to Mark has so many tensions between it’s christology of power and suffering is because the Early Church was trying to reconcile the reality of Christ crucified and him being the Messiah. Now this reconciliation is not a result of two diverging traditions or christologies, as in believing that one community purely emphasizes power and the other suffering, but rather a community’s attempt to come to terms with their savior being crucified. If you look at the parousia sayings and parables, as well as in Paul and Revelation, you will see that the early Church still believed that the Messiah would kick butt and take names, but just not now.
So anyway going back to my first point. I don’t think overly simplified dichotomies work when doing serious study. So although Mark may have a ‘low’ christology and John a high one. We should not overlook what both are trying to do, that is present Jesus as the Messiah. Mark does this through scripturalization, he’s interpreting his tradition through apologetical motifs so what was once a stumbling block may become praiseworthy. This is common in apocalyptic circles which use scripture to assure the faithful that God has things under control.
The overall darkness is hard to explain but the Gospel does have several hope spots. Jesus has promised Peter that they will meet again in Galilee, and through the use of irony Mark has shown his listeners that Jesus is true to his promise, Jesus is denounced by the Sanhedrin and mocked which ironically fulfills his prophecy. And God lets the audience know that Jesus was victorious by rendering the veil in the sanctuary and Through the empty tomb.
So although the Gospel is seemingly bleak, there are still parts that promise something better.
So the real story is complicated and I think that Mark wanted to assure his audiences that things are not what they seem and that like in the case of Jesus, their sufferings will result in them entering the Kingdom.
Nicely put. Who ARE you? (I’m honestly curious. Though perhaps we’ve spoken in emails in the past and I’ve forgotten.)
Servanthood is power in Mark, in fact, the only kind of power that can establish the Kingdom. I see not even a hint of a Christology of glory in any traditional or non-ironic sense. The first part of the narrative makes it very clear that it is humility and faith, free of fear and “the cares of the world,” that characterizes “the good earth” which is fruitful ground for the healing miracles. These miracles are not to demonstrate the power of Jesus but to illustrate the typology introduced in the Parable of the Sower. Indeed, the closer we come to Jerusalem and the Passion, the more difficult it becomes for Jesus to heal, as he starts using spittle and gestures and magical formulas, whereas before the hem of his garment was able to transmit his healing grace without even his conscious assent.
After the last passion prediction and the entry into Jerrusalem, healings cease. Jerusalem exemplifies hard-heartedness and fearful conspiracies. Religious leaders “marvel” at Jesus’s pronouncements and are often at a loss for what to say — a clear indication that they are not receptive to the spirit. So in the second part of the gospel, we meet fear and faithlessness at every turn, and Jesus is depicted not as a healer but as a prophet, who is rejected by the religious authorities, just as were the prophets of old, and must suffer their torments, be killed and “thrown out of the vineyard”.
Thanks Brian and C.J. for your comments which, like my post, show how Mark is amenable to different readings based on where one places the emphasis. I get the point about the danger of hypothetical sources and communities dictating how we read Mark, but I think I still see a christological tension in Mark. Perhaps part of the explanation may be as Brian suggests that Mark is trying to articulate the paradoxical belief in a suffering Messiah or what C.J. suggests that Mark wishes to redefine power as servanthood and suffering (though perhaps does not redefine it completely as the apocalyptic Son of Man seems to exercise power in the typical fashion). I wonder if another part of the explanation may lie in the paradoxical situation of Mark’s readers – they are followers of a powerful risen and exalted Messiah who will imminently return in glory with the kingdom, but the present moment is one of suffering at the hands of political and religious authorities. Thus, Mark’s retelling of the story of Jesus to both stress how God’s saving purposes may be accomplished through the way of the cross with the promise of a powerful future vindication.
I think of Mark as hagiography. Jesus has to be better than Caesar [Son of God, Evangelium, Translation], better than Moses [manna miracle, parting water, making a rock bring forth water, and per a story in Josephus' day, ascended to heaven], Elijah [various miracles including ascending into heaven] and Elisha.
Elisha asked for a double the dose of “spirit” [miracle working power] than his predecessor had. And if you count the number of miracles attributed to the latter two prophets the latter one does perform double the number, some say exactly so.
But Mark’s miracles of Jesus pale in comparison to some of the O.T. ones in so far as how many people allegedly saw them. Healings and exorcisms were not uncommon, the rest of Jesus’ miracles are reserved for “apostles only,” sometimes only three apostles as in the transfig. which Mark even has Jesus command those three to keep silent about until later.
Moses was never so coy with his miracles, which allegedly were seen and heard throughout Egypt, all of the curses, even the parting of the waters, and the feeding of over a million people in the desert via manna, even the seeing of God’s backside, or Moses’ own glow around his face (if that’s the right translation), or the pillar of smoke during the day and the pillar of fire at night they led the Israelite horde daily through the wilderness.
Maybe by Jesus’ day God didn’t want to be such a show off.
And in the Gospels, though they praise Jesus’ healings and exorcisms, the towns that allegedly experienced the bulk of them remained unconvinced, even damnably so, per the Gospels themselves. Maybe Jesus was forced in a way to go to Jerusalem because his tricks weren’t impressing enough folks in the small towns he visited? And Jesus stayed away from the big towns like Sepphoris.
Ah, you say, what about the feeding of the multitude! In Mark there’s no recognition on the part of the crowd being fed that anything miraculous is happening. Such recognition down not dawn on the crowd until you reach the fourth Gospel. In Mark the apostles are instructed to pick up the leftovers to demonstrate that a miracle had taken place, and even then, the apostles have to be reminded about the extra baskets of food during a boat trip. So again, Jesus’ miracles don’t appear that impressive, and the fact that the towns didn’t convert but may have even shooed Jesus away, such that Jesus spoke a curse upon them, certainly makes one wonder just what was indeed going on.
Later Gospel writers punch up the Markan story each in their own way, with new miracle tales added especially to the beginnings and endings of their new improved Gospels. A miraculous birth story in Matthew, and TWO miraculous birth stories in Luke, along with Luke’s songs-hymns put into the mouths of nativity characters. Matthew’s additions to the resurrection story are well noted. As well as Luke and John’s move away from the earlier tale of an appearance in Galilee, and making Jesus’ first appearances take place in Jerusalem, a more noteworthy city. John’s addition of the miracle of water to wine is also placed early in his Gospel. It seems that when you add miracles it’s easiest to add them to the beginnings and endings of the initial tale in Mark, just as movies that attract attention garner prequels and sequels.
As for Jesus’ suffering. It’s obvious that when you’re stuck with a Messianic figure who gets executed, you have to do something to accommodate that, reinterpret that. For instance, make that figure prophesy his own suffering, and also claim that the Messiah must die was prophesied throughout the Hebrew Bible (it’s not).
So two points.
1) Whomever wrote Mark was well aware that to attract the attention they wanted for their savior, he had to be larger than life in a world of already larger than life superstitious Hebrew and Hellenistic characters.
2) Jesus as the “executed Messiah” had to be accounted for, even if it meant portraying the apostles as dull idiots who were told time and again that the Messiah must die, and also if it meant lying about how prominent a theme the “dying Messiah” was supposed to have been throughout the Hebrew Bible.
Thanks Ed, I think you have a point that the Gospel does want to portray Jesus as a better “son of god” than any regular Davidic heir or Roman emperor and as superior to Moses and Elijah/Elisha. Just a couple points: I am not sure we can know about how villagers in the small towns of Galilee actually reacted to the historical Jesus. In Mark’s narrative there certainly is an element of secrecy and much of the teachings/deeds only made available to the inner circle of disciples (no doubt one could find new miracle stories added in gospel literature and the Markan Jesus refusal to offer his opponents a sign apart from the sign of Jonah seems to be a different take from the public “signs” offered by the Johannine Jesus as proof of his identity), but there is also an element in Mark that the secrets will be revealed and that Jesus’ deeds are not able to be kept secret as someone spills the news and his popularity grows. This may magnify Jesus further as he resists trying to court fame but his identity and power cannot be concealed. Also, I don’t believe the evangelist was “lying” about the prominence of a dying Messiah in the Hebrew Bible, but the reality of Jesus’ crucifixion impressed itself on the evangelist and caused him or her to reread the scripture in a new light (instead of as a modern historical critic
).
Both. Imo, the GoM was written as a chiasmus. Often chiasmi have a shift at the center – just as in Mark. The 2 halves of Mark have slightly overlapping inclusions. The first half has an inclusion emphasizing Jesus as both Messiah and Son of God, while the second half has an inclusion emphasizing Jesus’s death and resurrection. Both sets of inclusions underline the ‘halves’ overall themes. The first half empowers Jesus, which serves to overcome the difficulty some might have had with Jesus’s crucifixion. … A good plan I would say.
Thanks L.J. Hooge for commenting. I would recognize that Mark has two distinct halves with distinctive themes before and after Caesarea Philippi, but I hesitate to call it a chiasmus (unsure if the Greek text of Mark has enough overlapping parallels between the two halves to fit a chiasmus with a literary structure of something like A, B, C, D, C, B, A)
I understand your hesitancy in seeing Mark as a chiasmus. It seems a hard idea to accept – particularly without evidence. Nevertheless, I believe Mark is organized as a rather beautiful seven part chiasmus. Re. Greek parallels, the chiasmus is primarily based on thematic rather than word parallels, since Mark is based primarily on a series of ‘thematic’ stories. Eg., the healing of a blind man with a healing of a blind man. … One nice aspect of the chiasmus is that it fills in Mark’s missing ending.
I plan to follow your blog in the future. It looks good and i love Mark. … Take care.
Hey, thanks for that L.J. Hooge and I enjoyed checking out the link to your blog as well
[...] sonship at the baptism, the question of whether the emphasis in Mark is on Jesus as a powerful theios aner (divine man), the refusal to accept the acclamation “good,” the accusation that Jesus usurped a [...]