Now comes the great confession of the Messiahship of Jesus by Peter on the road to ‘Philip’s Caesarea’,1 and the first clear prediction by Jesus to the disciples of his coming death. It is of course no accident that these two are joined. If the disciples see Jesus as the Messiah, it is essential that they see him as God’s Christ and not a human Christ, and that they understand the path of Messiahship which has been ordained by God. The natural mind never objects to the concept of a Messiah, provided that he is to be a Messiah who commends himself to the natural mind. This careful explanation by Jesus was doubly important, not only so that the disciples might be kept from nationalistic or other misconceptions of Messiahship, but also because Christ’s path would determine theirs, as Jesus would soon explain to James and John (10:39). It was a prophetic word when the light-hearted city wits of Antioch called the ‘followers of the Way’ by the coined name ‘Christians’, that is, ‘the messianic people’ (Acts 11:26), since they must walk the same path as he did. It is also appropriate that such a revelation should now be brought to the spiritually blinded disciples by the one who had so recently proved his power to open the eyes of the physically blind.
28. It is always easy to answer in the third person, and give the views of others as to the nature of Jesus. We have seen that Herod saw Jesus as a ‘John returned’ (6:16), and it seems from this passage that Herod was not alone in this belief. Others saw him as ‘Elijah returned’, a common Jewish concept of the day, derived from Malachi 4:5, and endorsed by Jesus as having reference to John the Baptist (9:12; Matt. 17:13). The interesting thing is that both Elijah and John were, as all recognized, only forerunners of the Christ, and not the Christ himself. So none of the outside world had as yet guessed the true nature of Jesus as Messiah. Others could not make as definite an identification as Herod did, but agreed that clearly Jesus was a prophet. The Emmaus Road conversation witnesses to the persistence of this ‘minimal’ view of his person and nature, even among Christians (Luke 24:19); and the nabi Isa, ‘prophet Jesus’, of the Qur’an bears witness to its survival in Mohammed’s days among the decayed Christian churches of Arabia. A shallow Christology like this will ultimately lead to even grosser heresy: for it inevitably makes Jesus himself only a forerunner and not God’s last word to rebellious humanity. It is interesting to speculate what spiritual qualities, seen and noted in Jesus by outside observers, led them to make these identifications. Every prophet spoke with authority, in God’s name, bringing the word of the Lord, and vindicating that word with signs: John is the stern eschatological prophet of doom; Elijah is the fearless wonder-worker, appearing and disappearing from the desert, the great example to New Testament saints of the power of prayer (Jas 5:16–18). All of these prophets differed individually, yet each found a place in the portrait of Jesus. As often, if we want to understand his person and work, we must draw into one the several threads of Old Testament revelation, for all lines of revelation meet in him. So, while they were inadequate, these views expressed above were not entirely wrong. Indeed, Lightfoot is correct in saying that their error lay in the fact that all these were roles of preparation, not fulfilment and consummation.
29. But now, as it continually comes to us, comes the personal question that transfers theology from an armchair discussion to an uncomfortable dialogue between God and us. Are his own disciples still as blind as the others? The rest may be, but not Peter: at once, the answer was made, ‘You are the Christ’, that is, ‘the Anointed’, or ‘the Messiah’. The weight of MS evidence here seems to point to this wording as being the full Marcan statement: the addition of ‘the Son of the living God’, with poorer MS evidence, is almost certainly an assimilation to the text of Matthew 16:16, where it properly belongs.2 Simon Peter’s similar declaration in John 6:69 should be compared, although this seems to be on a different occasion. Here was the identification of Jesus with the Christ that shows a Christian, for no-one could make such an equation without the inner illumination of the Spirit. Matthew 16:17–19, at this point, continues with the blessing of Peter, the declaration that this is none other than the Spirit’s revelation, and the subsequent promises to Peter: none of these are recorded in Mark, although he must surely have known of them, particularly if Peter was among his informants. It would seem commonsense to say that Peter suppressed them out of modesty, while still retaining the rebuke that followed. If Mark omitted them, it was because he did not consider them relevant here. If Mark was indeed the gospel of the early Roman church (as seems likely), then this omission must be significant. If we want to find the Petrine promises, we must turn to the Palestinian tradition underlying Matthew’s Gospel: the one place where they were not proclaimed was at Rome. Mark is concerned here only with the revelation of the messianic secret, for that alone is relevant to his purpose at the moment.
30. Why were the disciples forbidden to tell others of the Messiahship of Jesus? Presumably because at this stage none of them (not even Peter: see verse 32) really understood what was involved in Messiahship, and so those outside could not fail to misunderstand such a claim. Even the fact of his Messiahship was a discovery which each disciple must make individually, as Peter had done, although in every case, as for Peter, this must come as the Spirit’s revelation. But the nature of the Messiahship of Jesus is an even deeper revelation which is still to come to them. Here, in a nutshell, is the mystery of the gospel: we are very conscious of our human part in the process of discovery at the moment of conversion, and yet, from the other side, we learn in reverent wonder that all was God’s work in revelation (John 15:16).
31. This is the first of the three occasions on which Jesus carefully explained to the twelve the cost and meaning of Messiahship:3 compare 9:31 and 10:33, which gradually give a fuller picture, presumably as the disciples were better able to bear it. This in itself shows that none of the later Jerusalem happenings took Jesus by surprise.4 Indeed, as soon as he had accepted the vocation to Messiahship, he had thereby accepted the vocation to suffering. To ‘suffer’, when applied to the Messiah in the New Testament, is a ‘theological shorthand’ for his death upon the cross (Acts 3:18, etc.). But to suffer many things, as here, doubtless includes far more than his actual death, for Hebrews 5:8 makes clear that the cross was the culmination and supreme point of a life of suffering for Jesus. It is only after we understand the person of Christ that we can appreciate his work: that is the great theological lesson, and explains why Jesus made no attempt to tell of the cross until now. Apodokimasthēnai, be rejected (31), is an interesting word: it means literally ‘fail to pass the scrutiny’. The thought is that the Sanhedrin, the priestly court of Israel, will scrutinize the claims of Jesus, and then deliberately reject him. But the true danger for all is that of failing to pass the scrutiny of God, as Paul saw (1 Cor. 9:27, where a word from the same root is used). The meaning of rise again is apparently incomprehensible to the disciples as yet, for much later they are still puzzled by it (9:10).5 Perhaps, like Martha (John 11:24), their trouble was that they balked at a resurrection here and now, while accepting one ‘at the last day’ quite happily. Within Judaism, only Sadducees rejected the whole concept of resurrection: but that was on a par with their general anti-supernatural bias (Acts 23:8), which was not shared by the theologically orthodox Pharisees or the great mass of Israel.
32. Began to rebuke him. Typically, Mark simply records the fact: he refrains from quoting the terms of Peter’s remonstrance to Christ as Matthew does (see Matt. 16:22). It was enough for Mark to show that Peter had failed to understand the necessity of the cross: he understood only too clearly the meaning of the words of Jesus (Minear).
All the apostles seem to have been present on this occasion, and each would have had his own recollections of it, some fuller than others. ‘Turning and seeing his disciples’ (33) suggests that all would share in Peter’s rebuke (Anderson).
33. No sterner rebuke ever fell on any Pharisee than fell on this disciple of Jesus, this proto-Christian. In speaking as he did, Peter was voicing, not the mind of God revealed by his Spirit, but that ‘natural’ mind which is the mind of the enemy: and so Peter could be addressed by Jesus directly as Satan.6 The avoidance of the cross had been a temptation faced and overcome by Jesus in the wilderness, to judge from the fuller account of the temptations contained in the other synoptists (e.g. Luke 4:1–13). For Peter to suggest it was therefore to think in human terms, and not in divine terms. The Aramaic form Sātānâ suggests that here we have a relic of another original Aramaic saying of Jesus (cf. 4:15). Otherwise, the Greek diabolos, ‘devil’, might have been used as elsewhere (cf. John 6:70). It is unlikely that there was any gradation in meaning between the two words, which seem to be mere synonyms in the two different languages. Note that Satan’s suggestion is not blasphemous or obviously evil: it is smooth, attractive and ‘natural’, appealing to all ‘natural’ human instincts. That is why it is so dangerous.
Now we see why it was so essential that Peter should grasp the conditions of Messiahship for Jesus: otherwise, Peter could not grasp the conditions of discipleship for himself. This correspondence between the path of master and servant was fulfilled very literally, if we accept the universal tradition as to the manner of Peter’s death at Rome by crucifixion. For archaeological evidence for Peter’s Roman martyrdom, see Kirschbaum and Guarducci. The place of his death has of course nothing to do with subsequent claims as to Peter’s position, a fact seemingly forgotten by protagonists and opponents alike.
So the Lord warns all the crowd, not just his professed disciples, that to follow him means to deny all natural inclinations7 and to ‘shoulder one’s stake’. ‘Stake’ in modern English preserves the association of shameful death better than cross does. Compare 10:39 for the equally solemn words of Jesus to James and John as to the cost of discipleship. The thought is plain to every child playing the game of ‘follow my leader’, in which there is only one rule, that no follower shirks going to any place where the leader has first gone. Ultimately, to the Christian, this following of Jesus becomes the hope of heaven, since our leader has already gone there (Heb. 6:19–20): but first comes the cross. ‘No cross, no crown’ is a pithy piece of theology which must have been ever-present in the minds of the early Christians at Rome and other centres of persecution.
35. The one who tries to live this life ‘for self’, who hoards it jealously and selfishly, will lose it. This is true, not only finally in the death that all must face, but moment by moment, for such selfish life is no true life, but only animal existence. Life, like sand, trickles between our fingers whether we will or no, and to grasp it the more tightly means only that it flows the faster from us. So a refusal to accept this ‘death to self’, which is the bearing of Christ’s cross and following him, is a spiritual death; whereas, by a divine paradox, spiritual life is to be found only by dying to self (Gal. 2:20).
The additional clause, which only Mark preserves, and the gospel’s, makes plain the exact way in which life is to be ‘lost’ for Christ. It is to be spent in his service, in the spreading abroad of the good news. The Christian therefore has not two goals, but one: Christ and his gospel are ultimately one (see 10:29 for a similar link). Schweizer well compares Luke 18:29, where ‘for the sake of the kingdom of God’ is similarly used.
36–37. The metaphor in profit, gain, and forfeit is commercial rather than judicial. As usual, Jesus is meeting or anticipating objections at our own level, appealing to the shrewd commercial instincts of these Galilean tradesfolk, as he appealed elsewhere to the common sense of fisherfolk (Matt. 13:48) or farmer (Luke 13:15). The kingdom was a good ‘buy’ at any price, if only these hard-headed businessfolk could see it.
38. But then, as usual, when we have been defeated at our own lowly level of thinking, Jesus takes the argument to a deeper level, this time with an eschatological reference. Son of man he has used as a self-chosen title before (e.g. verse 31), but now, through the Petrine declaration, ‘Son of Man’ has been definitely equated with ‘Messiah’. Jesus has shown that the biblical interpretation of the anointed one is not, initially at least, the conquering king eagerly awaited by the Jews, but the rejected suffering Servant (Isa. 53:1–12). Yet, in spite of all this, as ‘Son of man’ he was still to be God’s chosen instrument of judgment at his coming-again (cf. Dan. 7:13). The biggest difficulty for the disciples must have been the problem of how to join all these different concepts in one and to relate them to the Jesus before them. The humble Christ of history is always humanity’s great stumbling-block, not only to his own generation but to ours also.8 God is revealed in Christ, but only to the eye of faith: to others, God is hidden in Christ, and they cannot see him. This is the great ‘messianic secret’. It is no accident that, in Mark, the story of the transfiguration directly follows, for, in it, something of the true glory of Christ is revealed to those who have already recognized Jesus as Christ in his lowliness.
To what does the prophecy in verse 1 refer? That depends on our understanding of the exact moment when the disciples were to see the kingdom of God has come with power. There are two distinct questions involved here: the first question is, what did the disciples initially think the meaning to be? The second and more important is, what did Jesus himself mean by the saying? As regards the first, we know that many in the early church expected the Lord’s second coming to be within the lifetime of the first generation of apostolic witnesses. The first apostolic generation may well, then, have thought that this saying of Jesus was a direct reference to his parousia, the second coming of Christ for judgment and establishment of his reign. This view could of course nowadays be maintained only if we understand will not taste death in a mystical sense as ‘will not perish eternally’, which is possible, but unlikely. In Semitic idiom, taste death is simply poetic for the blunt ‘die’, and so the apostles themselves would presumably have interpreted it. But the supposed views of the first generation have for us now only a past historical interest. By the date of the writing of the Gospel of Mark, even Peter had probably passed away, so this literal interpretation, with reference to the second coming, would have been no longer possible. Now, Mark certainly would not have recorded a saying which was meaningless to him and also useless to the church. The verse must, therefore, refer either to the transfiguration which follows immediately after, which seems reasonable; or to later events, still within a human lifespan, such as Christ’s triumph on the cross, confirmed by the resurrection (Col. 2:15); or to the coming of the Spirit; or to the later extension of the blessings of the kingdom to the Gentiles as outlined in the book of Acts. Of these, perhaps the combined event of cross and resurrection is the best interpretation, if we reject the transfiguration as the meaning. But perhaps we do wrong to associate the prophecy exclusively with any one isolated point of time in our human sense of the word: R. T. France (in Matthew) sees it as a general reference to the vindication of Jesus. In any case, the transfiguration is a foretaste of the final triumph of Jesus, whether it is seen in itself as a fulfilment of this prophecy or promise of Jesus.
2. There may be no theological reason for the six days of Mark, though attempts have been made to connect them with the ‘six days’ of God’s working in Genesis, followed by his sabbath rest. It may simply be one of the irrelevancies of the memory of an eyewitness, assuring us that the story is firmly set in place and time, though we may not always be able to reconstruct either from the scanty data given. Mark, as noted, has little interest in recording exact time or date or geographic location. In Exodus 24:16, Moses is shown as waiting ‘six days’ for a revelation (Anderson), which may be a parallel, but both Mark, with six days, and Luke, with ‘eight days’ (Luke 9:28), may be giving only an approximate number of days, meaning ‘about a week’, as we would say today.9 Only in the passion story is there a similar note of time (Schweizer). Again, as often, Jesus took with him Peter, and James, and John: for his possible reasons for this choice, see the comment under the story of Jairus, in chapter 5. The way in which the story is told by Mark recalls the leading of Joshua up the mount of revelation by Moses (Exod. 24:13), and the way in which Moses was unwittingly transfigured by the glory of God while on top of the mountain (Exod. 34:29), although Moses had only a fading and reflected glory, as the Bible makes plain (2 Cor. 3:7, 13). In contrast, Christ’s glory on the mountain was his own: he was but reassuming that divine glory which was his with the Father before the world began (John 17:5). In a sense, we are wrong to call this ‘the transfiguration’, as though it was unique: the true great transfiguration, the metamorphōsis, had already taken place at Bethlehem when God took human form, as Philippians shows (Phil. 2:6–7). On the mount of transfiguration Jesus was but reassuming his own true form, even if only temporarily: faith had momentarily passed into sight, for the three disciples.
3. The lasting impression left by the vision was one of unearthly purity. So, too, when any in the Scriptures see God’s spiritual ministrants, they appear to them as wearing white robes (16:5). In spite of modern Bible illustrations, white was not a common colour for working clothes in biblical days: it soiled too easily in a workaday world. If it had not been unusual for people to wear gleaming white garments, the detail would not have been recorded here, for the Bible, like most other ancient documents, makes very few references to colour.
4. We often loosely take the appearance of Elijah with Moses with Jesus on the mountain as the witness of Law and Prophets to Christ; and so it is, but it is more. Moses had himself spoken of Christ prophetically10 (John 1:45; Luke 24:27), and scribe and Pharisee alike looked for Elijah to come as Messiah’s forerunner (9:11), on the authority of Malachi (Mal. 4:5). True, as Jesus hinted, there had already been a fulfilment of this prophecy at one level in the coming of John the Baptist (9:13), but nevertheless there was a special appropriateness in the presence of Elijah in person here. Anderson notes that Elijah had been translated directly to heaven, while nobody knew where Moses was buried: is there a hint that Jesus too was to be taken up to heaven? This, however, seems farfetched.
5–6. Luke adds the detail (9:32) that the disciples had been asleep, as in Gethsemane, which suggests that the transfiguration took place by night. The briefer account of Mark mentions none of these things, but they would fit with his story. Peter, suddenly awakened from sleep in time to see the glory, was talkative in his terror, as some are. Now that they had seen the shekinah-glory that had once covered Israel’s meeting-tent of old (Exod. 40:35), Peter thought that another such tent, or even three such tents, was appropriate now (5). Peter did not realize that the shekinah-glory, the manifestation of God’s presence, was already ‘living in a tent’ on earth, in the body of Christ (John 1:14). Anderson sees a reference to the Hebrew ‘feast of booths’ in the suggestion (Lev. 23:34). The use of rabbi by Peter here is another interesting touch, which may be original. Matthew (17:4) has the usual polite Kyrie, ‘Lord’, or ‘sir’, and Luke (9:33) has the Gentile title epistata, ‘master’ or ‘overseer’; but Mark keeps the original Semitic word, used by Peter, the usual title for their teacher used by the apostolic band.
7–8. Cloud, or light, had been the sign of God’s presence in the wilderness (Exod. 40:38); and, in true Old Testament style, on this occasion too there came a voice from the cloud (cf. Exod. 24:16). It is at least a striking coincidence that it was also after ‘six days’ that Yahweh’s voice came from the cloud of Sinai.11 This time, however, it strikes less terror into the hearts of the hearers than it did then (cf. Exod. 19:16). Once again, as at the baptism, God the Father was bearing witness from heaven to his Son (cf. 1:11). The Greek agapētos, beloved, almost certainly has the connotation of ‘only’ Son here, as at the baptism.
9. The full meaning of this vision would be apparent only after the resurrection,12 and so they were forbidden to tell others of it until then. Perhaps this forbade a sharing of it even with their fellow disciples. Anderson points out that this is the only place in Mark where a definite limit is set after which the ‘Messianic secret’ can be freely proclaimed. It is, however, a commonplace of the gospels that only after the resurrection could many sayings of Jesus be understood (e.g. John 12:16).
10. This is an interesting incidental confirmation that the disciples never really understood the words of Jesus about his coming resurrection, so that naturally they were amazed by the event when it occurred (16:8). The strange thing is that, on so many other occasions, they did the very opposite, and misunderstood his words by taking them with the crassest literalism (compare 8:16). The only answer to this problem is that given earlier: they lacked the key of faith (8:17–18). Of course, as orthodox Jews, resurrection at the last day was no problem to them (John 11:24): but clearly the words of Jesus here referred to some other earlier event, and this puzzled them greatly, as the words of Jesus puzzled Martha in John’s Gospel. There had of course been resuscitations from death recorded in the Old Testament (e.g. 2 Kgs 4:36), but for some reason they cannot have considered them applicable to Jesus.
The appearance of Elijah upon the mountain had raised another question in their minds. Was not Elijah still to appear, not merely in a vision, but in bodily form, to usher in the messianic age? As they descended the mountain, they put this question to Jesus. This at least proves that all of them now believed in his Messiahship, however they understood it. Otherwise the question, as to whether or not the teachers of the law were correct in their exegesis, would have had no meaning.
12–13. Jesus not only agreed with this scribal interpretation of Malachi 4:5 pronouncing its fulfilment in John the Baptist, but also showed the parallelism between John’s and his own case. The problem now was not whether ‘Elijah’ would come again or not (for he had come already), but why the Son of man (for whom ‘Elijah’ had prepared the way) should be rejected. In rejecting John, Pharisees and scribes had rejected God’s counsel for them (Luke 7:30) and made it all the more sure that they would reject the Messiah when he came. None of this took God by surprise, for all was as it had been written (vv. 12–13). This must mean that Jesus linked both the ‘Son of man’ and ‘Elijah returned’ with the ‘suffering Servant’ of Isaiah 53:3. As John’s coming was a heralding of the Messiah’s coming, so John’s rejection was a heralding of the rejection of the Messiah: and both alike were in fulfilment of Scripture. It is standard exegesis to say that in Mark there are three passion predictions by Jesus to his disciples, for so there are. But this is a fourth, usually unrecognized, for it is made only to the ‘inner ring’ of the three: doubtless there were others too.
But sterner work than abstract theological discussion awaited the little group at the foot of the mountain, where spiritual failure had shamed the other nine apostles, and drawn a crowd, as failure will do as surely as success. As usual, those theological critics, the scribes, were at the forefront, doubtless, in the face of this failure, questioning once again the theological credentials of the disciples or their rabbi. One wonders why these same scribes, instead of embarrassing the crestfallen disciples before the crowd, did not set about exorcising the demon themselves, as a proof of their orthodoxy. Some orthodox Jews acted as exorcists, presumably in the name of Yahweh: indeed, Jesus elsewhere appeals to this to justify his own activity (Matt. 12:27). Others, including Sceva’s sons (Acts 19:14) seem to have been unsuccessful, unorthodox frauds: yet others expelled demons legitimately in the name of Jesus, without actually following Jesus (verse 38). The practice seems therefore to have been relatively common in the first century.
16. The first questioning words of Jesus do not necessarily show ignorance; they seem designed to draw the attention of the crowd away from the humiliated disciples, and to direct it to himself, as verse 19 makes explicit. Nor was this done just to spare the feelings of the disciples; it corresponds to a deep spiritual principle. First, those in need must confess their own inadequacy, and then they must be brought to see the power of Jesus to meet that need. To concentrate on the person of his servants is irrelevant, as John the Baptist had enunciated in 1:7–8. For a similar question by Jesus, asked perhaps for a similar reason, see Luke 24:17, on the road to Emmaus.
17–18. The outward symptoms of the boy are certainly those of epilepsy, but we should always observe a reverent agnosticism on matters of demonization.13 The very outspokenness of the man’s answer emphasizes his weary despair. The father had brought the lad to the disciples, hoping for healing, but they were not able, lit. ‘were not strong enough’ to do it.
19. The reaction of Jesus is a half quotation from Psalm 95:10, referring to God’s patient endurance of the faithlessness of the Israelite ‘generation of the wandering’ in days of old, a generation which finally came under God’s judgment. It gains in poignancy when we realize that the generation of the ministry of Jesus was also to be a generation of God’s judgment, which would descend upon the land some thirty-five years after the crucifixion of Jesus (13:2). There is a great reluctance in modern days to see God’s judgment in historical or sociological events, but, while of course we may be incorrect in our interpretations, the principle is clearly biblical. God works through the laws of cause and effect, in the world which he has created, to produce either judgment or blessing in the lives of nations as well as of individuals. By its ambivalence, this is far from a shallow ‘prosperity cult’. Indeed, after the fall of Jerusalem, in AD 70, apart from the Christian church which had fled to Pella in Transjordan (cf. 13:14),14 few of the original hearers of Jesus would be left alive: for many, their bodies would fall in the wilderness, as had those of their unbelieving forefathers (Heb. 3:17). The Roman legionaries would be terrible agents of the wrath of God on a stubborn rebellious generation (13:14–20), and civilian casualties would be very heavy.
But whose was the culpable lack of faith on this occasion: was it on the part of the disciples, or the father? It seems from the wording of verse 23 that it is the father who is blamed for lack of faith, while the disciples are blamed for lack of prayer (verse 29). But prayer is of course one demonstration of faith, so that ultimately both stand under the same condemnation.
20. The violence of the demonic onset, in the case of the dumb boy, corresponds to the confessional outcry wrung from the lips of the demon-controlled elsewhere (cf. 5:7). It was the impotent rage of the defeated enemy, an unwilling acknowledgment of the status and authority of Jesus.
21. Jesus is not merely interested in a ‘case history’ of the boy. He is helping the father to confess how desperate his need is, and at the same time showing him that he has no other resource but in Jesus.
22. It is a pitiful tale, but the telling of it works the desired purpose; for even though he has so little faith, yet the man who doubts the power of Jesus never questions his compassion. Contrast the robust faith of the leper of 1:40, who said, ‘If you will, you can make me clean.’ He had no doubt of the power of Jesus; all he doubted was his readiness to help a despised leper like he was.
23. Jesus gently reproves the man’s lack of faith. If you can might be better paraphrased ‘That “if you can” of yours’ (where Jesus would be quoting the man’s own words): ‘Why, everything can be done for one who believes.’ This is a statement of the great biblical principle enunciated in 10:27 and 11:24. But we are not called to ‘put God to the test’ by irresponsible ‘believing prayer’ for what may well be our human desire but not be his will. We are free to ask what we will, but only if it is what God wills (14:36). This is no mere theological quibble: it is a statement in another form of the need for the ‘mind of Christ’ in us, given by the Spirit. It is also a warning against taking one statement of Scripture in isolation from others, and basing presumptuous prayer on it.
24. The father cries for help, honestly confessing the poverty of his faith; and Jesus answers, not according to the poverty of the man’s faith, but according to the riches of his grace. The man is doing exactly as the Gentile woman of chapter 7 had done: he accepts humbly Jesus’ estimate of him, and, even on that basis, pleads for God’s mercy, not for his deserts. No better illustration of the doctrine of justification by faith could be found than the father’s words here. This is clear from the fact that he used the same verb, boētheō, help, as he has above (verse 22). He had previously said, ‘If you can, help me.’ Jesus had rebuked this phrase, and so now with tears (some MSS) the father said, ‘Then help me just as I am, a doubter.’ In other words, the man was not praying that his unbelief might be ‘helped’ till it came to the point where his faith was worthy of meeting with a response from God. We do not need to ask God to increase our faith until it is deserving of salvation, as a sort of ‘congruent faith’. That would still be justification by works, not justification by faith. Instead, the father was asking Jesus for practical help, to be demonstrated in the healing of his son, and confessing, deeply moved, that he had not enough faith to make him worthy of such help. His very coming to Jesus showed faith, and that was enough. This is indeed justification by faith. A parallel would be the so-called ‘cry of dereliction’ on the cross (15:34). Even at that moment, a cry of seeming despair was in fact in another sense an expression of faith, for it was directed Godwards.
25–27. Jesus never encouraged crowds of idle sightseers, eager for the latest sensation or wonder. He deliberately avoided crowds, when he thought their motives unworthy (cf. John 6:26), and he would refuse to perform a miracle for a jaded Herod (Luke 23:8). Crowds are not necessarily indicative of success in spiritual work. Jesus apparently regarded crowds as a signal to move elsewhere (1:37–38), or to explain more clearly to shallow disciples the true cost of following him (8:34). For him, the test of true success was the little group of disciples who followed when the crowds had turned back. When we consider principles of ‘church growth’, we need to balance them by considering these aspects also. It is noteworthy that miracles, common in the first half of Mark, are relatively rare in the second half: it is as though they have achieved their purpose, once Jesus has been recognized as Messiah. From now, they might only confuse the picture.
28–29. Note that the nine disciples who failed did not include the three who had been with Jesus on the mountain of transfiguration. We may therefore possibly be justified in saying that these nine were less spiritually responsive than the three. But if it was earnest ‘prayer’ that was lacking, were the three who slept, perhaps on the mount of transfiguration, and certainly in the garden of Gethsemane (14:37), any further advanced than the nine, in spite of all their greater opportunities? There is some good MS evidence for the addition of and fasting at this point (29).15 Scripture does not condemn such voluntary self-discipline as an aid to prayer (1 Cor. 7:5). What Scripture condemns is the outward fast that corresponds to no inward and spiritual reality, and becomes simply an opportunity for pride and self-glorification (Luke 18:12). Mark has few references to fasting, however, as is perhaps natural in a Gentile church. Privately: this word, like entered the house, is typical of Mark, who stresses the total lack of understanding of the disciples and their consequent need for private instruction, away from the crowd (Schweizer).
The plain meaning of verse 30 is that Jesus wished to travel unknown on this Galilean journey, because he wanted to teach his disciples some important truths. It was in fact to be another period of intensive, not extensive, teaching; this distinction has been noted already (see the comment on 6:7). This is an example of how Jesus could neglect one opportunity to take another, without feeling spiritually guilty. He had a quiet purposeful selectiveness, so often lacking in the fevered rush of activism of his followers, which produces nervous breakdowns as part of its bitter fruit. Both Jesus (14:33) and Paul (2 Cor. 1:9) were under tension at times of great stress, but that is not the same thing.
31. This is commonly called the second prediction of the passion, and is to be found in all the synoptic gospels. In point of fact, as already mentioned, a second ‘private’ prediction had already been given on the path down from the mountain of transfiguration, in answer to the question of the three apostles about Elijah’s return (see verse 12), while yet another ‘private’ prediction will be made to James and John in 10:38, whether understood or not. This, then, would be the third such prediction, but only the second given to the whole body of the disciples. The use here of the passive delivered implies in Semitic idiom that God is seen as active in the event (Schweizer).
32. What did the disciples fail to understand? Jesus’ own self-chosen title ‘Son of man’ was by now familiar to them; ‘betrayal’ and ‘death’ were hard to accept, perhaps, but easy to understand as concepts. It must have been his reference to a resurrection after three days that baffled them, as apparently it had baffled them in verse 10 above. It is true that, by Semitic idiom, ‘the third day’ could be used vaguely and metaphorically for ‘subsequently’ so that they are not to be blamed for failure to take it in a literal sense. The Old Testament text (Hos. 6:2) would not help here in its original sense,16 although the Christian church may have later seen it as a prophetic foreshadowing of the resurrection. When Jesus specifically used the analogy of Jonah, then the meaning would be clearer (Matt. 12:40), for he there stated that the nature of the sign would be in the reappearance of the Son of man from underground after three days: but Mark does not record this particular saying of Jesus.
This sense of awe, induced by the as yet not understood words of Jesus, did not last long. As they walked along, they were strung out in a long line behind their rabbi. No ancient pupil would dare to walk abreast of his teacher, nor indeed would the narrow footpaths of the time allow it. They had been arguing up and down the line as they went (although sometimes dialogizomai may be used simply of reasoning in the heart, as in 2:6), and doubtless occasional angry words had reached the ears of Jesus, as he was walking in front (10:32). So his question sounded natural enough, no doubt: but there was already a hint of rebuke in his use of the verb dialogizomai (discuss), which often implies argument as well as reasoning. He did not rebuke his disciples in public: they had been already sufficiently humiliated in front of the crowds. Instead, he waited for the privacy of the evening halt, till they were in the house (33). Not unnaturally, the disciples were reluctant to answer his question, to which Jesus already knew the answer.
35. He sat down: this implies more than a wearied traveller composing himself. It means that the teaching rabbi is once more about to give instruction to his disciples. One interpretation of this next saying of Jesus is the spiritual principle that those who desire or grasp at spiritual position thereby will condemn themselves, as punishment, to the lowest place in the kingdom. This is true; and the song of Mary (Luke 1:46–55) makes it plain that it is as much part of God’s way of working to ‘put down the mighty from their thrones’ as it is to ‘exalt those of low degree’. But Mark’s use of the future estai, he must be, may reproduce another Semitism from the original tradition, where a future form can also be an imperative or jussive. In that case, the deeper principle will be that, if we desire spiritual greatness, then what we truly desire is the task of service to others, and so we must deliberately choose the lowliest and most humble place. This was the whole key to the life of Jesus, for he came, not to be served, but to be a servant (10:45). Humility, however, is not a ‘natural’ virtue, and few qualities are more unpopular in our self-assertive world.
36–37. Another illustration of the same point follows. It is evening, and the meal in the home is over: Jesus calls to him a child and taking him in his arms (Gk. enagkalisamenos, lit. ‘holding him in the crook of his arm’), begins to teach. The exact connection between this saying (37) and the previous verse 35 is not made clear in Mark. Matthew 18:4, the parallel passage, makes the link clearer by amplifying: ‘Whoever humbles himself like this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.’ This, then, makes the lesson of humility plain: not only is it the law of Christian service, but it is also the law of entrance into the kingdom of heaven (cf. 10:15, a very similar instance in Mark). This humility, which is the basic law of the kingdom, demands a complete reversal of our previous scale of values, a reversal which God will one day vindicate (10:31). In this humility, we receive a child as we would the King himself, treating that child as an ambassador of the King (in my name), not as we see him or her outwardly.17 Similarly, even Jesus himself is to be seen in the light of God, his Sender, and not as he appears outwardly to the false sense of values of this world (37).
Next, just as Moses had suffered from the over-zealous partisanship of Joshua (Num. 11:28), so Jesus was to suffer from the zeal of John, one of the two hot-headed ‘sons of thunder’ (cf. 3:17).18 It is strange, in view of occurrences like this, to think that one day John would be called the apostle of love. On this occasion, he wanted to forbid exorcisms performed in the name of Jesus but by one who was not a professed disciple, like the twelve. David’s sufferings from the misdirected zeal of the sons of Zeruiah are another parallel (2 Sam. 3:39): there was the same passionate personal loyalty, combined with the same failure to discern their master’s true nature and purpose. The instant reaction of Jesus was to withdraw the prohibition (in which apparently the other disciples had concurred), and give the great ‘minimal’ test he that is not against us is for us. This is reinforced by the commonsense principle that those who do miracles in the name of Jesus are not likely to be foes of his, or to speak evil of him. The whole theology of the Spirit was at stake here: the scribes had seen the work of the Spirit, yet deliberately misinterpreted and opposed it, putting it down to Beelzebub (3:22). But here were his own disciples, seeing and admitting a work of the Spirit, done in the name of Jesus, and still forbidding it, on theological grounds. What is the difference between disciples and scribes, if both alike oppose the Spirit’s working, although for very different reasons?
If this next saying of Jesus is still in the same context, then there must be a return in thought to the child, standing in front of Jesus; and verse 41 would be the bridge-verse. The link then is the words you bear the name of Christ (41). Of course, we could equally well take verse 41 closely with verse 40, and see the gift of a drink of water as being a proof of support of Christ. If this ‘belonging to Christ’ is such an important bond, then nothing is too precious to sacrifice (not even hand, foot, or eye), in order that we may retain it. In the kingdom, all rules of moral conduct are based on theological principles. Therefore, to trip up or impede one, even the least important outwardly, who enjoys this close relationship to Christ is so terrible a crime and merits such a terrible punishment. The incidental touch of verse 42, one of these little ones who believe in me,1919 may suggest that Jesus was staying in the house of a disciple and believer at the time. ‘Little ones’ could perfectly well mean ‘lowly disciples’, but, in this context, it is best to take it literally as ‘children’. We, too, dare not allow ourselves to be thus tripped: for the consequences for us are so serious. Compared with the attainment of the kingdom of God (47) or of ‘life’ (43), no sacrifice is too great to make. So hand, foot or eye, the most important members, but also members through which temptation might come, must be sacrificed, if need be, for the good of the whole. As in 8:36–37, Jesus is stressing the infinite value of the soul, compared with which all else is unimportant. Physical self-mutilation, utterly abhorrent to the Jew, is not in question here, though some of the early church Fathers may have taken it so. That would be another example of the crassly literalistic interpretation of the words of Jesus of which disciples are capable (8:16). Nor is it likely that Jesus is referring to the need for exclusion of heretical members of the ‘body of Christ’, lest the whole church be endangered, as Dr Edward Newing has suggested (in a verbal communication with the author): this is too sophisticated for Mark. What we have is a vivid metaphor, couched in extreme terms that assure us of its dominical nature, for this appears typical.
43, 45, 47. There can be no reasonable doubt that two clear eschatological alternatives are set before us by Jesus here. The one is called life, which is therefore not purely a Johannine term for salvation, as sometimes claimed. The other is called here, not ‘death’ but hell or Gehenna, and explained as unquenchable fire (Gk. asbestos), for which Matthew 18:8 uses instead the adjective aiōnios, translated eternal in the RSV20 It is true that the primary thought of asbestos is not that of duration; but it does seem to be that of absolute unquenchability, and the two concepts are not far apart. No man ever spoke stronger words about this ultimate alternative than the loving Son of God;21 but his words on it were addressed either to his own disciples, as here, or to professed religious leaders (as in Matt. 23:33). We never hear of him expounding this topic to publicans and sinners, although John the Baptist may have struck this note widely (Matt. 3:7). Jesus therefore spoke of hell to professed saints, and of heaven to acknowledged sinners, unlike many other preachers. Also, when Jesus spoke of judgment, according to Luke, he wept (Luke 19:41).
48. The Old Testament context (Isa. 66:24) helps to explain this solemn imagery. It has reference in Isaiah to ‘the dead bodies of the men who have rebelled against me’. Gehenna, the eternally smouldering rubbish-dump outside Jerusalem, is the symbol of the final fate of those who have rebelled against God, amongst whom Jesus warns us that we may find ourselves, unless we enter God’s kingdom (verse 47), equated with life (verse 45). RSV here rightly follows the better MSS is omitting verses 44 and 46 which are identical with verse 48, which is found in all MSS. But this does not lessen the seriousness of the warning; Mark knows nothing of an easy universalism or of a ‘second chance’ after death, or even of a limited period of punishment, even if such punishment is self-inflicted by refusal to respond to God’s grace.
Verse 49 is the bridge-verse, containing, as it does, the thoughts both of fire and salt: all is to be tested and purified by fire one day (cf. 1 Cor. 3:13).22 The concept of a refiner’s fire is found in the Old Testament (Mal. 3:2). It appears, then, that the introduction of the verb halizomai, to salt, suggests the further sayings about halas, salt. Whether of course these sayings were used at one and the same time by Jesus, or simply strung together later for ease of memory in early teaching patterns, we cannot now say. Early traditions (like those of Papias) certainly suggest this latter explanation as the scheme of construction of Mark’s Gospel, rather than the chronological pattern so congenial to the modern western mind.
50. Those who have lived in the third world may not be able to give a chemical explanation, but they will know that salt is often adulterated, as sugar is, and many another commodity, by unscrupulous local retailers. But to enquire what process the adulterated substance goes through, and how it results in final tastelessness, is beside the point, although scientifically interesting. The real point is that such salt, salt only in name, is now useless: and if the very thing designed to bring flavour to other substances is itself flavourless, how can its flavour be restored? Here are the very followers of Jesus themselves, quarrelling with one another: how can such be ‘a son of peace’ (see Luke 10:6 for this as a Christian term)?23 Christians are to be the moral preservative of the world; they are to ‘salt’ life, to purify it, and to stop it becoming utterly corrupt, but how can they do this, if they themselves have lost all Christian distinctiveness? It may be that the use of salt as a covenant-sign in the Old Testament (Lev. 2:13) also underlies the use here. Whether or not this has any special relevance to Mark’s ‘reading public’, whether at Rome or elsewhere, we cannot now say: but Paul’s epistles to the Corinthians show us the extent of quarrels in some Gentile churches, and his Epistle to the Romans may show similar dangers.
Up till now, in chapters 1–9, we have had the record of a basically Galilean ministry of Jesus.24 Now, from chapters 10 to 15, Mark records a Judean ministry, and the natural assumption would be that this followed immediately afterwards. But, against this view, in between the two, Luke has a great mass of material, covering roughly chapters 9–18 of his gospel, usually called the Lucan travel narrative, which Mark seems to omit altogether. Mark, however, never claims to record ‘all that Jesus began to do and to teach’, as Luke does (Acts 1:1), and even early Christian tradition recognized that Mark was only a selective account. Probably Mark’s arrangement here is theological and abridged, rather than strictly chronological: he hurries on to show at once the resolute turning of Jesus towards Jerusalem that was to lead to the cross. Although Mark is ‘historical’, we must not think of his gospel as a chronicle in our modern sense: he had a different purpose in view.
The region of Judea which Jesus enters now is different in every way from the Galilean highlands in the north.25 Rugged Galilee, with its simple and strongly nationalistic peasantry, was very different from the sophisticated city dwellers of the south. Galilee was always the most stubborn centre of Jewish revolts, possibly because the ‘Circuit of the Gentiles’, as its full name means, was surrounded by Gentile and bitterly anti-Jewish populations: even in the AD 70 revolt, Galilee was a hard nut for the Romans to crack, as Josephus shows. Judea was dominated by Jerusalem, and Jerusalem was dominated by the temple, with its Sadducean aristocracy and Sanhedrin: vested religious interests and rigid religious orthodoxy were stronger there than in the north.
What was in the mind of the Pharisees, in asking this question about divorce? Their answer to Jesus in verse 4 shows that they were already well conversant with the law upon the score, as was natural enough. From the wording of verse 2, to test him, it was obviously only a ‘trick question’, designed not to obtain guidance, but to make Jesus compromise himself. If they could trap him into some rash pronouncement, then he could be accused of having contradicted either the law of Moses or its interpretative tradition.26 The Sadducean question about the resurrection (12:23) and the Herodian question about the tribute (12:15) are examples of similar smooth-tongued attempts to make Jesus incriminate himself, all of which failed dismally (12:34). Seen in this light, the wisdom of the answer of Jesus becomes even more apparent. This passage is not therefore the full teaching of Jesus about divorce given ‘in the abstract’ to his disciples, although, like all his pronouncements, it did become a teaching occasion. It was primarily an answer to a test question, where, whatever he said, some party might seize upon it. It may have been that the Pharisees already suspected this Galilean rabbi, whose disciples regarded sabbath so lightly (2:23), of lax views on sexual relationships, and so asked him this question with a view to obtaining another handle for attack. John 8:1–11, the record of the forgiveness by Jesus of the adulteress, shows how easily the charge of laxity could be levelled against him: although this ‘pericope’ is probably not canonical, the story certainly circulated widely. In addition, the reputation of Jesus for being a friend of tax-collectors and immoral people (2:16) and numbering women like Mary Magdalene among his followers (16:9) must have looked suspicious to them. If this was their hope, they were sorely disappointed: Jesus showed no sign of laxity here. Indeed, we can see from verse 10 that his strong views surprised even his own disciples so much that they later in private asked for an explanation. The recording of this private explanation is again typical of Mark (Schweizer). On the other hand, the Pharisees may not have been as surprised as the disciples. They may have already suspected that Jesus was a ‘rigorist’ on the marriage question, as the Qumran community seem to have been. In that case, they could accuse him of rejecting the law of Moses on the subject.
3. As usual, Jesus answered the Pharisees first at their own level, by taking them back to Moses, which they doubtless expected: this at once removed any suspicion of heterodoxy, whether in the direction of rigorism or laxity. Jesus thereby made clear that his teaching was designed to give a new depth of meaning to the law, not to dismiss it as superseded (Matt. 5:17).
4. Nevertheless, the Pharisaic group had already been forced to yield ground, if, as is probable, the change from eneteilato, command (3), the word used by Jesus in his question, to epetrepsen, allowed, the word which they use in their reply, is deliberate. They themselves do not dare to say that divorce had been commanded in the law, even if it was allowed, so they have already shown some consciousness of the weakening of their position.
5. Then comes a further blow to the scribes. This law of Moses, said Jesus, was not only as they admitted, permissive, instead of being imperative; it was actually concessive, because of the unresponsiveness of human hearts to God (hardness of heart). Better, in the days of the law, we might paraphrase, easy divorce than open adultery and defiance of all marriage codes. It was the lesser of two evils in Israel, but its very existence showed a fatal flaw in humanity, to which Jesus drew attention. Perhaps the toleration of polygamy in Old Testament times is another instance of the outworking of the same principle, as being something permitted in early days, but never praised, and never seen as God’s plan for humanity.27
6. But now comes, as usual, an attack at a deeper theological level, where Jesus goes beyond the law of Moses, which was given at a particular point in time, to God’s timeless purpose as shown in creation. In appealing to Genesis, he was appealing only to another section of the torah or Law, not abandoning it: Paul is equally clear that the Mosaic law was but an ‘inset’ into God’s earlier purpose and covenant of grace, which is eternal (Gal. 3:17). The inviolable sanctity of the marriage tie is not of course merely based by Jesus on the bare words of Genesis 2:24, which are only a description and commentary on the result of God’s act, but on God’s initial act and purpose itself (Gen. 1:27), in creating two sexes, and so showing that this sexual union was his plan. Jesus assumes of course on the part of the Pharisees a full knowledge of the context of the Genesis passage, explaining why marriage was instituted by God for mutual companionship and support (Gen. 2:18).
7. The natural phenomenon of a person voluntarily leaving the closest social bonding already known (that between parent and child) to form a new and closer bond with a person previously unknown would be utterly inexplicable, unless seen as an instance of the outworking of this purpose of God. As so often, Jesus is appealing to the common sense of ordinary people against the intricacies of the professional theologians (cf. 7:15).
8. Marriage is therefore the closest known human bond (one flesh), though, being human, it involves a physical bond, and its physical aspect cannot survive death (12:25). So close a bond is it nevertheless, and so deep in the purpose of God, that Paul can use it as a picture of the spiritual union that exists between Christ and his church (Eph. 5:32). Only ‘parenthood’ can be similarly used as a picture of the union between God and his people (Eph. 3:15).
9. This close bond has been created by God: indeed, it was God’s aim in the creation of the two sexes, whereas any divorce is purely human. Nothing else needed to be said to the Pharisees. Did they go away crestfallen? Or were there perhaps some who went away thoughtfully, as in 12:32 ff.? They cannot have been pleased by the practice of Jesus of going behind the historical law of Moses to God’s timeless mind, as expressed in creation, whether it was in connection with marriage, or sabbath, or anything else, but they could not challenge either its legitimacy or his orthodoxy.
10. But we, like the disciples, need more amplification and guidance on the matter, which was denied to these Pharisaic religious strategists, since they did not really want an answer to their question. So Mark says his disciples asked him again, when (typically Marcan) in the house. The fact that the disciples found it necessary to ask Jesus for further explanation suggests that it was the first occasion upon which he had dealt with the subject, and also that his teaching conflicted, in some respects at least, with generally accepted views shared by the disciples. He who had seemed lax proved to make unbelievably far-reaching demands, based on God’s absolute will and purpose.
11–12. This report of the teaching of Jesus on divorce is, again, only of a skeleton nature, and therefore it is by no means a full treatment of a difficult problem. For that, we must turn to the fuller statement in Matthew 5:32, with its so-called ‘exceptive clause’, however this is interpreted, and to Paul’s letters, where the bluntness is somewhat qualified pastorally. But, because of its very bluntness, this is clearly a genuine utterance of Jesus. No early Christian, whether Jewish or Gentile, would have dared to make such a drastic statement, though the Qumran community seem to have appealed to the same biblical principle of strict monogamy (Anderson and Schweizer). Further, Mark’s is the downright teaching formula for a Graeco-Roman Gentile church, where immorality was doubtless a grave danger: finer points would be lost on them. Jesus was not creating a new legalism: he was recalling to God’s absolute standard and intention. The first century was a time in which divorce was perilously easy and common, whether in Judaism or paganism. Jesus, it is noteworthy, assumes as a matter of course that a divorced party will, in either case, remarry; it is such remarriage after wilful divorce which is branded as adultery. But, however we explain them, we must not water down the strong words of Jesus, even if they are as unwelcome and unfashionable to us as they were to his disciples when first spoken (see Matt. 19:10).
We have already seen, from the acted parable of 9:36, that we must not, in the kingdom, despise children: indeed, as we have seen, to welcome children in the name of Jesus is to welcome Jesus himself. This was an example of the new set of values in the kingdom. Now, we are told that, to enter the kingdom, we must ourselves have childlike qualities (verse 15), though Jesus does not say that all children are, by being children, within God’s kingdom already. That is why children must not be hindered from coming to Jesus, for the kingdom is made up of those who share their attitude.28 The reference may be to the lowliness of a child; but more than lowliness seems to be meant in this context. The wider interpretation is to see a reference here to the trustfulness of a child, the guileless faith placed by a child in one whom it loves.29
Apart from this, we may see in the anecdote the faith in Jesus shown by the parents who brought their children to him to touch (verse 13) in blessing (verse 16). Whether they were actually paidia, children, (13), or brephē, infants (as said in Luke 18:15), is uncertain and indeed immaterial here. There have been those who see something almost superstitious in the action of these parents. But, if it was faith and not superstition to touch the garment of Jesus in hope of healing (5:28), then this is faith too. It was apparently not uncommon for Jewish rabbis of the time to lay on hands and bless similarly. Unaffected by questions of the age of the children is the brusqueness of the doubtless wearied disciples, shown in rebuking the parents. Perhaps they were jealously trying to guard their rabbi from what they regarded as another unwarranted intrusion upon his time by those whom they still considered unimportant. The disciples certainly made Jesus by no means easy of access: were they perhaps jealously guarding their own privileged position (Cf. 9:38)?
Also unaffected by the age of the children is the indignation of Jesus (14) at this action of his disciples, as showing their utter failure to understand his loving purpose,30 and, indeed, the whole nature of the kingdom, where none is unimportant in God’s eyes. The strong Greek verb aganakteō, he was indignant, shows how strongly Jesus felt.
The story of the rich man is found in all three synoptics, with individual additions, as the memories of the various narrators recalled different points. From Matthew (Matt. 19:20) we learn of his youth, while the Lucan source records that he was a ‘ruler’ (Luke 18:18). His great possessions (22), so different from the ‘evangelical poverty’ in which the disciples lived, deeply impressed the naive Galileans, as did the splendours of Herod’s temple later (13:1). He probably belonged to a social group as yet scarcely touched by the gospel, although converted tax-collectors like Levi would undoubtedly have been wealthy too (2:14–15), like the rest of the ‘sinners’, no doubt. From the very start, some women of this circle were numbered among the followers of Jesus (15:41, and cf. Luke 8:3), and used their wealth to further his cause, as indeed Joseph of Arimathea did at the last (15:43). Jesus does not condemn wealth as wrong in itself, but this whole story is a poignant warning of its dangers.
17. The man’s eagerness is shown by his running and kneeling in the public highway, if the Greek verb gonypeteō, knelt, is to be taken literally, and not merely metaphorically as ‘begging’, which is possible. His spiritual insight is shown by the application of the adjective good to Jesus, and his spiritual hunger by his very desire for eternal life. His impatient brushing-aside of the expected orthodox Jewish suggestion, that the way to life was by keeping the commandments, shows a spiritual perception far in advance of that displayed by the average scribe (but cf. 12:33). But his spiritual insight was not matched by a readiness for committal which would involve sacrifice, and so he went away sadly. In his case, the impediment was his wealth; sooner than give it up, he gave up Jesus. So he becomes a continual warning to all the disciples of Jesus (verse 23) of the dangers of riches.
18. Jesus, as often, tries to draw from the man the full implications of his own words. He had come to a teacher for help and recognized him as good: but had he yet realized what was involved at the deepest level in such an attribution? Had he yet made the identification of Jesus with God that would enable him to recognize the true nature of this good teacher, as Peter had in 8:29? For only such a divine Messiah could give him that eternal life which confessedly he desired to have but had not. Schweizer well says that this is not merely the search for a well adjusted happy life, but for something which is far deeper: this man was in earnest, and his quest was right.
But his basic error was far more fundamental than a failure to recognize Jesus as Messiah, although it would have been an error shared by most in Judaism (Schweizer compares Ps. 15 and Ps. 24). He still saw salvation as something to be attained by his own efforts. Until he was ready to receive it by faith as something completely undeserved, of which he was not worthy, he could not enjoy it.
The words of Jesus in reply to the man are slightly different in Matthew 19:17, but the main sense remains unaltered, and both could well be loose Greek paraphrases of the same original Aramaic saying. Certainly no Christian would have invented the abrupt form of the saying recorded here in Mark (Anderson): perhaps then this abruptness was characteristic of Jesus, for we have seen it elsewhere on several occasions. Others, however, would see it as typical of Mark rather than of Jesus.
19. Jesus sums up for the man the commandments of the law that deal with duty to neighbour; he does not as yet introduce the more searching question as to duty to God. If he can induce a sense of inadequacy at this lower level, then so much the better. It was as if Jesus said, in answer to the man’s eager question of ‘what must I do?’ ‘Do? if that is to be the way, then you must do all that the Law commands.’ It is unlikely that Jesus was endeavouring only to stir the man’s conscience by listing these commandments as though, if he really loved his neighbour as himself (12:31), he would already be using his wealth in a different way (verse 21).
20. The man’s spiritual experience had not been as deep as that of Paul. He thought only of the outward observances of the law, and not of the inward breach, which Jesus saw as equally important (7:21–22), but he doubtless spoke in all good conscience when he said that he had kept all these commandments externally. Yet at least, even if outwardly self-satisfied, he realized inwardly that he still lacked something. Otherwise, he would not have come to Jesus seeking eternal life, and asked the question which he did.
21. It is clear from the emblepsas auto(looking upon him, or ‘gazing at him’) that Jesus saw something attractive at that moment in him.311 Was it perhaps his spontaneity and earnestness, the qualities that appear in single-minded David, the man whom God described as ‘after my heart’ (Acts 13:22)? But not even for one whom he loved, and whose discipleship he desired, would Jesus lower the demands of discipleship to make an easy convert. This was not an arbitrary decision: whoever wants to follow Jesus must deny self and take up the cross (8:34).
In the verb hystereō, lack, or ‘need’, there is a probe at a deeper level. Here was a man who had never physically lacked anything: doubtless this was why he had never been tempted to kill or steal, as a poor man might have been (Prov. 30:9). For such a one, it was easy to observe the commandments outwardly: but he still had an inner lack. Jesus was seeking to bring home to him that the ‘poor rich’ had a great unseen need too, hidden in his very riches. If he wanted this need met (cf. Rev. 3:17), he had to show his discipleship in a concrete manner (Schweizer), by laying them aside.
This demand for physical renunciation of earthly wealth is made potentially of all disciples, and may be made actually of any at any time or permanently. Jesus demands of all his followers a total initial renunciation (1:18). What he then hands back to us is completely at his disposal: we hold it only as stewards for him, and it is his to give or take away at will (Job 1:21). But the ‘treasure in heaven’ promised by Jesus in return will be ours for evermore, unlike the uncertain treasure of this world, which passes away.
‘Give to the poor’: is this renunciation in favour of the poor the very heart of the injunction? Or is the central point, the command for the giving up by the man, of what has become a spiritual impediment? Older commentaries would stress the second interpretation, most modern commentators the first. Probably there is no contradiction between the two, for, while the New Testament does not say that ‘God is on the side of the poor’, yet Jesus always showed special concern for the poor. Wealth is not seen as necessarily sinful in the New Testament: it is, however, seen as highly dangerous (23), as well as a great responsibility. Jesus does not accuse this man of acquiring his wealth at the expense of the poor, as a tax-collector almost certainly would have done. To the Jew of Old Testament days, honestly gained riches were a sign of God’s blessing (Prov. 10:22), but this must not be exaggerated into a ‘prosperity cult’, for ‘the poor’ are often equated with ‘the righteous’.
22. This is the only man in the whole of the New Testament of whom it is said that he went away sorrowful from the presence of Jesus. Many were sad when they came to Jesus and went away joyful. But, apart from renouncing his wealth, there was no other way by which it was possible for him to be close to Jesus (Schweizer). He could not, by definition, be a disciple (8:34) of Jesus, who had given up his all (2 Cor. 8:9). His reaction shows only too clearly that Jesus had laid his finger on the spot. His wealth was indeed the thing that was holding him back from the kingdom of God, or he would have given it up at once gladly, as the other disciples had done. The apocryphal ‘Gospel of the Nazarenes’ adds the picturesque touch of the man ‘scratching his head’ when he heard the words of Jesus, which, however, reads more like a preacher’s addition to the text than a genuine piece of early tradition.
23. A literal translation of the words of Jesus would run ‘How hard it is for those who have things …’ (Greek chrēmata, translated in RSV riches). ‘Things’ or ‘possessions’ often occupy first place in the life of the disciple, especially in an age of expensive gadgets and possessions, and can just as easily be barriers against entrance into the kingdom of God. One is tempted to wonder how much of the original sense of dyskolōs (‘hardly’, or ‘with difficulty’) is intended to be understood here; how disconsolately, with how ill a grace, do those conscious of being rich approach the kingdom, seeing that for them the cost is so great! This possibility is heightened by the fact that in verse 22 we have a reference to the sorrow of the rich man, expressed by his fallen countenance.
24. The disciples were thunderstruck at what they heard;32 they had assumed that just as all other things in this world were easier for the rich (‘those with advantages’, as we sometimes tactfully say), so entry into the kingdom must also be easier for them. This is the ordinary viewpoint of ‘natural religion’. Apparently it was a view also shared by the disciples, as they looked wonderingly at the receding figure of this man, so obviously ideal in their eyes for the kingdom. But discipleship makes all equal; none start with the balance loaded in their favour, when it comes to entry into the kingdom of God. Only the humble, the ‘little ones’, find entry to the kingdom congenial: riches can be a stumbling-block, if not a barrier.
But there is a problem at a deeper level, which must have crossed the minds of some at least of the disciples. All of us are ‘rich’ in something, if not in money: who then can be saved? This is the true puzzle voiced forcefully in verse 26; if it is hard for the rich, then it is hard for all.
Whether or not Jesus actually added the explanatory words for those who trust in riches (the MSS are fairly equally divided), this is obviously the meaning. The shorter and simpler textual reading, How hard it is to enter the kingdom, makes good sense, for it at once removes the ‘rich’ from being in a class by themselves. It shows that entry is hard for them, not just because they are rich, but because entry is hard for all. Perhaps such a generalization is not so suitable here, however, for verse 25, immediately following, resumes the ‘special’ subject of the rich, and the ‘general’ subject does not reappear till verse 26 and after. The fuller text, then, seems preferable as the sense in verse 24, reading for those who trust in riches. Notice again that the ‘riches’ are not blamed in themselves; it is the trusting in riches that is blamed, just as trusting in anything else would be.
25. It is tempting to read in this vivid saying the like-sounding (in koinē Greek) word kamēlos, ‘rope’, for kamēlos, camel, but there is no good early MSS evidence for the change. Likewise, it makes somewhat banal what is a palpable folk-proverb of impossibility. The camel was by now the largest animal found in Palestine.33 There does not seem to be any good early evidence for the view that the phrase eye of a needle means a postern-gate in the city wall, with a consequent need for the camel to kneel and be unloaded if it is to be pushed through. The ninth century AD is the earliest reference that Schweizer can find for this interpretation: it therefore reads like a pious late fabrication. It is better to see the metaphor as one of sheer impossibility. Is the choice of the camel, traditionally most sulky of all beasts, suggested by the sorrowfulness of the rich man leaving Jesus (22)?
26. The indignant kai, ‘and’, translated here as then, at the beginning of the disciples’ question almost defies translation. It implies exasperation and indignation and was not by any means the first time that the seeming lack of ‘realism’ shown by Jesus drew this response from his impatient disciples. ‘Saved’ here equals ‘enter the kingdom’ (Anderson), but it does in addition have a Pauline ring about it.
27. The answer of Jesus contains another divine paradox. It is not merely hard to be saved; it is quite impossible. But God is God of the impossible, and so, for him, the impossible can become the possible. Unless they believe this, there is no hope of any becoming disciples, least of all the twelve whom Jesus had chosen, and whose weaknesses Mark describes so frankly. Perhaps that is why Jesus looked at them: they were living examples of this principle, even if they did not realize it (1 Cor. 1:28).
28. Peter is perhaps slightly jealous of the attention paid to the rich man, and jealous, it may be, not so much for himself alone as for the whole group. Faced with one from a ‘higher’ economic bracket, there has been an instinctive closing of the disciples’ ranks. They cannot forget the ships and nets that they had left behind in Galilee: has their sacrifice really been appreciated? It is a psychological fact that those who have left less are often more conscious of their sacrifice than those who have left more. Yet Peter was not wrong in what he said. Everyone who follows Christ ultimately makes the same sacrifice, for everyone must give all that they have, and Christ does not reckon the sacrifice as great or small by the amount given, but by the amount withheld for self. This will be the lesson of the widow’s gift (12:42). So Jesus does not rebuke Peter, for what Peter says is true; at the call of Jesus, the fishermen had indeed left nets and boat and followed him (1:18–20). It may be that some among them, awed by the wealth of the young man and his refusal to give it up as the price of Christ, were ruefully rethinking their own initial sacrifice, and badly needed this reassurance that Jesus saw and valued it.
29. Here it is Mark among the evangelists who has the fuller text with for my sake, and for the gospel, or perhaps ‘because of me, and because of the good news’; he thus makes the goal of the sacrifice clearer. The disciple makes the sacrifice for his Master, so that the gospel of his Master may be spread: the possible extent of the sacrifice is given in a solemn rollcall of items involved. Nineham may well be right in seeing the omission here of ‘wife’ as significant, especially in view of 7 above. Nothing but a martyr’s death could break the marriage tie. Peter, for instance, travelled with his wife (Schweizer), if this is indeed the meaning of 1 Corinthians 9:5.
30. To every Christian worker this verse comes with a ring of triumph, but to none more than to the cross-cultural missionary, of whatever race, who finds countless ties of love in the new land of service to take the place of those sundered in the homeland. But there is always the added warning contained in the words with persecutions, to remind the disciple that the cross is not only an initial burden, but a constant one. Finally, compensations though there will be in this life, yet fundamentally the disciple’s hope must be set on the world to come (cf. 1 Cor. 15:19).
31. This may also be a word of reassurance to the disciples that God does not see as we do. The rich man might be ‘first’ in this world, but the disciples who had given up all to follow Jesus would be first in the world to come, where the rich man would be last. The widow with her two coins was to give more than any rich man had given (12:43); the disciples, with their nets (1:18), had given all, when the rich man had refused to give anything.
Now comes the third passion-prediction, or the fourth,34 if we take into account the private words of Jesus to the three disciples on the path down from the mountain of transfiguration. This third saying is the fullest warning yet given; but it is clear from subsequent events in Mark that the disciples still failed to understand, probably, as already mentioned, because of the reference to the resurrection of Jesus. If they did not grasp that, there was no clue to the other enigmas.
32. What was it in the acts or attitude of Jesus on this occasion that filled the disciples with amazement and fear?35 It cannot have been merely that he was going up to a hostile Jerusalem, for this he had done before; nor was it that he was leading the way for his disciples, though, on less momentous occasions, he might send them ahead of him (6:6–7). It is unlikely that it was a memory of the two former passion-predictions, for these the disciples had failed to understand or even remember, so that Jesus judged another and clearer reminder necessary here. It must have been either a vague sense of foreboding, or else something in the face and manner of Jesus, that awed the noisy quarrelsome band for once. Those who followed: a wider group?
33. The bitterest sting of all was to be not even the rejection of her Messiah by Israel, but the addition in this prediction of the fact that Israel, to reject him, will betray her Messiah to the Gentiles, the outsiders. Rejection and hatred can go no further than this: but this is the pathway to the cross. See Acts 2:23 for another possible reference to this aspect, with ‘lawless men’ (i.e. Gentiles).
34. The preservation of the details of this last passion-prediction may possibly be another piece of Petrine tradition. The patient suffering of his Lord certainly left an indelible impression upon the one who had denied him (1 Pet. 2:23), and Mark mentions Peter, alone of the apostles, as being present on that occasion (14:54). As Peter saw the horseplay and spitting and flogging, each detail of this passion-prediction may have recalled itself to his mind. If so, it is strange that the final promise, and after three days he will rise, seems to have been utterly forgotten by all the disciples in the black days between the death and resurrection of Jesus.
Although the disciples may have failed to understand the meaning of the passion-prediction, yet something in the manner of Jesus had convinced them that the hour of the establishment of his kingdom was near; perhaps it was this that had already either astonished or frightened them (10:32). But two at least of the twelve disciples are quick to take advantage of it. Ironically, however, although the request of the two ‘Thunderers’ was wrong-headed, yet at least it denoted faith in the ability of Jesus to establish his kingdom.36 So Jesus dealt gently with them, more gently than the ten would have dealt, as we can see from verse 41 below. The petty selfishness of his followers at a time like this, when his mind was full of all that lay ahead at Jerusalem, must have cut Jesus to the quick, like their earlier argument as to who was the greatest among them (9:34).
35. They sought from Jesus a monarch’s gift, a sort of ‘blank cheque’ upon his favour. Nevertheless, a wise king would put a top limit on such airy promises; compare wily Herod’s restriction of ‘even half of my kingdom’, in his promise to the dancing girl (6:23), although this was a traditional phrase (cf. Esther 5:3). So, no doubt, they would have interpreted the question of Jesus in reply: they would have seen it as natural caution, not spiritual insight.
36. Jesus, as usual, first allows the brothers to display their own spiritual depth or shallowness by disclosing their aims; for it is by our aims rather than by our achievements that we stand judged. In verse 38 below, Jesus will then show them that, if they had only realized the true meaning of their request, they might have refrained from making it.
37. It was not a desire to be near Jesus at the moment of triumph which moved them to this request; they simply wanted for themselves the highest posts in the new kingdom. It was ambition, not loyalty, that motivated them. James and John were, after all, not only members of the ‘twelve’, but also members of the ‘three’ (9:2). Had not King David had his ‘three’ also who were close to the throne (2 Sam. 23:8)? Moreover, the brothers were known to, and possibly related to, the high priest (John 18:15), so doubtless they were ‘well connected’, and therefore well fitted (they felt) for such a high office.
38. There was a double irony in their request, in that those actually on the right and left of Jesus at the great moment of his triumph were to be two crucified terrorists (15:27), making plain what in cold reality it meant to share in his cup and in his baptism. In that sense, the day would come, whether in Jerusalem or on Patmos, that the two brothers would indeed be on Christ’s right and left hand.37 Cup had long been an Old Testament symbol for suffering, especially for enduring the wrath of God, as well as for joy (contrast Isa. 51:17 with Ps. 23:5). Jesus explicitly used ‘cup’ in the first sense in the Garden of Gethsemane (14:36). Baptism too is an Old Testament picture of undergoing the wrath of God (see Ps. 69:15), which is often seen in terms of flood or sea-waves. We have seen that acceptance by Jesus of John’s baptism may have been a symbolic acceptance of this judgment (1:9) on behalf of sinful humanity. Although the New Testament concept of baptism ‘into Christ Jesus’ is rich and many sided, it is always baptism ‘into his death’ (Rom. 6:3). So both baptism and the cup at the Lord’s Supper remind forcibly, by their symbolism, of the cost of following Christ; the servant will be like his master in suffering too (45).
39. Whether their brief reply we are able (one word in Greek) represents a thoughtless self-confident spirit, or the quiet answer of a pair suddenly sobered by the words of Jesus, we have no means of telling. Whichever it is, it brings the assurance from Jesus that this price they will in any case pay, for this is not the price of Christian greatness, but the price of following at all. Those who follow Jesus cannot haggle at terms; there are not two levels of Christian discipleship, but only one.
40. This is a reminder that even the Son is in loving submission to his Father; it is not left to Jesus but only to the Father to dispense such honours at will. So, too, the time of the ‘last hour’ is hidden from Jesus deep in the mind of God (13:32); and yet this is not theological ‘subordinationism’, for it is voluntary acceptance of this position by the Son. Humility and submission are not popular Christian virtues, but they are basic, for they are founded on the ‘servant’ example of Jesus himself (verse 45).
41. The ten, in turn, betrayed their spiritual shallowness by being indignant at the ambition and place-seeking of the two, who had so skilfully got in ahead of them. No doubt they felt that they were ‘righteously indignant’, and indeed, the verb used here, aganakteō, is the same as that used in 10:14 to describe the reaction of Jesus to the disciples when they summarily dismissed the mothers of Jerusalem. But our basic character is shown by those things that provoke our strongest reactions, and there is a world of difference between what had stirred the indignation of Jesus and the indignation of the ten. So Jesus justly rebukes both the two and the ten at once, by showing to them their common ignorance of the very nature of Christian leadership (cf. 9:35). All such leadership is only humble service, for it takes its colour from the example of Jesus, who is above all, the Servant. Closeness to him is not therefore something at which to grasp thoughtlessly. Such ‘position’ is only a prize to be grasped at by those who are ignorant of its nature and cost (verse 38): Christ rejected even such legitimate ‘position’ for himself (Phil. 2:6).
42–44. Lord it over them is a good translation of the Greek katakyrieuō, ‘exercise lordship’. But for Christians, such an attitude becomes a contradiction in terms, for our understanding of the verb is derived from the meaning to us of Kyrios, ‘Lord’, the corresponding noun, which is uniquely a title of Christ.38 Our whole concept of the nature of lordship has therefore changed with the stooping and self-emptying of the Christ, who is Lord of all. The main argument is the same as that of 9:35 above, when the disciples were arguing as to who was the greatest, but the clinching word is yet to come in verse 45.
45. This is an argument of the ‘how much more’ type, often used by Jesus in the gospels. Even Jesus came not to enjoy the service of others, but to accept a lowly servant’s place: how much more his servants! But he also came to give his life as a ransom for many. This last saying is rich in meaning: the Son of man concept, found in the Psalms, Ezekiel and Daniel, has been already linked with the servant concept of Isaiah, and both are here linked with the great ransom theme of Old Testament days (Ps. 49:7). Even the wording for many is a memory of Isaiah 53:11–12. Jesus gathers into one, as it were, all these different strands of Old Testament thought, and uses them in combination to explain the full meaning of his Messiahship. This ransom-price metaphor was one greatly beloved by the early church, and it is one of the great biblical statements of the purpose and efficacy of the atonement, and of its cost in the death of Christ (1 Pet. 1:18–19). Of course, no single line of explanation is in itself exhaustive, nor can any one metaphor do justice to all the biblical evidence.39
46. Bartimaeus is a picture of the one in such need that he finds a way to Jesus, even though all the disciples of Jesus try to block the way (cf. their obstructive attitude to the mothers bringing children in 10:13, and to the man who was not a disciple and was yet casting out devils, in 9:38). In spite of all such discouragement, Bartimaeus had the grace of perseverance, and his faith was rewarded. But, though he becomes a spiritual illustration, we must not forget that primarily Bartimaeus was a blind man to whom Jesus gave sight in answer to his faith: that was why he followed Jesus on the road afterwards (verse 52).
47–48. There is a world of insight in the use of the one word heard of the blind man; he could not see Jesus, but the ears of the blind are necessarily quick. Only this gospel out of the four has preserved the name of the blind man, an interesting eyewitness touch. Even then, he is so unimportant that we know him only by his father’s name: but he was important to Jesus. He was healed, and he became a follower.
Jesus of Nazareth is interesting as contemporary evidence for the terminology used to describe Jesus; compare ‘the prophet from Nazareth’ (Matt. 21:11), ‘the carpenter’s son’ (Matt. 13:55), or even ‘Joseph’s son’ (Luke 4:22). These last two titles were discarded by the later church, probably as being incorrect and misleading, though the Old Syriac version retains traces of them which need not be heretical, but simply primitive. ‘The carpenter’ and ‘son of Mary’ (6:3) are more strictly correct as titles, and are the only two used in Mark, apart from Jesus of Nazareth, as here, and ‘the Nazarene, Jesus’ in 14:67.
Son of David is not so much a name for Jesus as a messianic title40 (cf. for the Old Testament concept, Jer. 33:17; and the cry of the pilgrim crowds, Matt. 21:9). The meaning of this title was shortly to be in dispute between Jesus and the Pharisees (12:35). But at least Bartimaeus, as a Jew, had a right to appeal to the Son of David, whereas a Gentile would have had no such right. To call Jesus by this name was in itself an expression of faith. Further, this blind man begs for pity; he throws himself upon the mercy of Jesus, not claiming anything, except that healing which was associated with the messianic blessings to be brought by David’s son in his kingdom.
49. The disciple who impedes the way to the master (as the twelve had done before this), is a contradiction in terms; the disciple is true to his or her calling who says, as here, to the one in need, Take heart; rise, he is calling you.
50. Everything here suggests expectant faith on the part of Bartimaeus: the impeding garment is tossed aside, he bounds to his feet. There is a joyous extravagance and recklessness of response, when the soul becomes suddenly responsive to the call of Jesus; Simon and Andrew leave their nets (1:18), James and John leave their boat (1:20), Levi leaves his tax office (2:14).
51. Here is a man who knows what he wants; no wavering in prayer for him (Jas 1:6). The title which he used for Jesus, rabbouni, translated as Master here, shows greater respect, if anything, than the common ‘rabbi’, ‘teacher’, frequently used of Jesus both by his disciples and others.
52. It was the man’s faith, evidenced by his persistence (48) that had saved him, and that same faith made him now a follower of Jesus. The repetition of sibilant consonants in the Greek phrase hē pistis sou sesōken se, your faith has made you well, has often been noticed. This, however, probably dates only from the later translation into Greek, with its continuous repetition in teaching, rather than from the original saying, which was almost certainly in Aramaic. If Bartimaeus was Jewish enough to call Jesus ‘Son of David’, he was most unlikely to converse with him in Greek. But it is most appropriate that on this note Jesus should commence his Jerusalem ministry: the Son of David will enter the city of David, and the passion story will begin. In a sense, all that has gone before has been but a preparation for this.