When Mark wrote his †Gospel, to become a follower of Jesus was a radical decision. It could mean incurring disapproval or outright rejection from friends and family. It could entail close fellowship with people one would have previously shunned: the wealthy with slaves, the devout with the formerly decadent, Jewish nationalists with Roman soldiers. For the educated it could mean enduring the ridicule of former colleagues for the absurdity of following a carpenter from a backwater village who had suffered the most ignominious form of capital punishment. And for many, Christian faith would result in imprisonment, torture, and death in the brutality of the Roman arena.
Yet as one reads Mark’s work one is impressed with its overflowing joy. Mark is fairly bursting with the good news of Jesus Christ the Son of God, crucified and risen from the dead. For Mark the life and times of Jesus is no mere edifying story. It is an event that has changed the course of world history—that has, in fact, brought history to its culmination. It is what makes sense of and brings to completion all that God did for his people Israel and foretold in their Scriptures. It is good news that has dramatically changed Mark’s life.
Mark writes in such a way as to invite his readers to embark on the same adventure that he himself, and Jesus’ first disciples, have engaged in: the adventure of encountering Jesus, growing in the knowledge of who he truly is, and committing one’s whole life to him. It is nearly impossible to read Mark as a neutral bystander. At every turn he invites his readers to see themselves reflected in the disciples, in the crowds that flock to Jesus for healing, or in the other characters in the story. Like the characters in Mark’s Gospel, readers are challenged to respond to the provocative words and astounding deeds of the carpenter from Nazareth.
“Who then is this?” the disciples ask after Jesus calms the storm on the sea (4:41). It is the question at the heart of Mark’s Gospel. Jesus himself raises this question when he asks his disciples, “But who do you say that I am?” (8:29). Mark has already provided the answer at the beginning of his work: Jesus is the Messiah, the beloved Son of God (1:1, 11). But it is not enough merely to understand the words; the point is to allow their full reality to come to light through a personal encounter with Jesus. Mark’s Gospel is written to enable his readers to do just that.
None of the Gospel authors identify themselves by name in their works. But early Christian tradition ascribed each Gospel to an author who was either an apostle or closely linked with the apostles. The heading “according to Mark” (kata Markon) appears in the earliest manuscripts we have of the second Gospel, which date back to the third century. According to ancient tradition, Mark was a disciple of Simon Peter who wrote his Gospel based on Peter’s preaching in Rome. This tradition is attested by Papias (ca. AD 60–140), a third-generation Christian:
This also the elder (John) used to say. When Mark became Peter’s interpreter, he wrote down accurately, though by no means in order, as much as he remembered of the words and deeds of the Lord; for he had neither heard the Lord nor been in his company, but subsequently joined Peter.[1]
A few decades later, this tradition is confirmed by Clement of Alexandria (ca. 150–215):
As Peter had preached the Word publicly at Rome, and declared the Gospel by the Spirit, many who were present requested that Mark, who had followed him for a long time and remembered well what he had said, should write them out. And having composed the Gospel he gave it to those who had requested it. When Peter learned of this, he neither directly hindered nor encouraged it.[2]
Similar testimony is given by Irenaeus (ca. 115–202), a disciple of Polycarp who in turn knew the apostle John; by Tertullian (ca. 155–225); and by Origen (ca. 185–254).[3] This diverse testimony, from areas as far-flung as France, North Africa, Palestine, and Turkey, is weighty evidence that Peter was indeed Mark’s primary source of information about the life of Jesus.
Some indications of Mark’s close association with Peter appear in the New Testament. In the First Letter of Peter, Peter sends greetings from “Mark, my son” who is with him in “Babylon,” a code name for Rome (1 Pet 5:13). Peter’s early preaching as recorded in Acts (Acts 10:36–43) has some close similarities to the structure of Mark. And reading Mark’s Gospel one gets the impression of discovering Jesus, day to day, through Peter’s eyes (see, for example, 1:29–30, 35–37; 14:27–30). Numerous vivid details unique to Mark—the cushion in the boat (4:38), the nicknaming of James and John (3:17), the wretched condition of the demon-possessed man (5:3–5)—seem to reflect an eyewitness report.[4]
Mark the †Evangelist is traditionally identified with the Mark often mentioned in Acts, whose Jewish name was John (Acts 12:12, 25). If so, he was a Jewish Christian whose mother Mary owned a home in Jerusalem large enough for Christians to use as a meeting place—possibly the “upper room” where the Last Supper was held (Mark 14:15) and where the disciples stayed after the ascension (Acts 1:13). Mark was familiar with not only Peter but also several other great figures of the early Church. He was a cousin of Barnabas (Col 4:10), and served as an assistant on Paul’s first missionary journey (Acts 13:5). For some unknown reason, Mark abandoned that mission (Acts 13:13), creating an awkward situation that led to a sharp dispute between Paul and Barnabas. Evidently Mark was later reconciled with Paul, who speaks of him with appreciation as a coworker for the †gospel (Col 4:10; 2 Tim 4:11; Philem 24). Later tradition holds that after serving Peter in Rome, Mark went on to establish the church in Alexandria in Egypt, and became the first bishop of that city.
Several details corroborate the tradition that Mark’s first readers were Roman Christians. Under the Emperor Nero (AD 64–68) the church in Rome suffered brutal persecution. After blaming Christians for the fire that destroyed Rome in 64, Nero punished his scapegoats by crucifying them, setting them on fire, and feeding them to wild beasts. Some, under torture or threats, abandoned the faith or even betrayed other believers.
Mark seems to be writing for Christians in crisis. He is the only Evangelist to mention that Jesus was with wild beasts (1:13), a predicament that would have special meaning to the Roman Christians. To the list of rewards promised to Jesus’ disciples, Mark adds “with persecutions” (10:30). Only Mark records the saying that “everyone will be salted with fire” (9:49). He emphasizes Jesus’ warnings that the disciples will suffer betrayal by relatives and persecution at the hands of authorities (13:9–13).
Mark also portrays the fears, flaws, and failures of Jesus’ first disciples—known to his audience as the eminent leaders of the Church—with relentless honesty. The sons of Zebedee were reprimanded for seeking earthly prominence, yet Jesus promises that they will share in his destiny (10:39–40); Peter caved in under pressure (14:29–31), yet Mark’s audience knows of his forgiveness and restoration, his courageous leadership, and perhaps his heroic martyrdom. The Evangelist thereby encourages his readers, showing that God’s purposes are not foiled by human failure or opposition. The weaknesses of Jesus’ followers and the violent hostility of his enemies only play into God’s hands.
Another sign of a Roman setting for the Gospel is Mark’s frequent use of Latin loan words, including military terms like legion, praetorium, and centurion, and the names of coins. His audience seems to be of mainly †Gentile origin, since he explains such Jewish customs as ritual washings for readers unfamiliar with them (7:3–4). When he occasionally includes an †Aramaic term for vividness, he is careful to provide a translation (3:17; 5:41; 7:11, 34; 15:34).
There is nearly unanimous agreement among scholars that Mark’s Gospel was written within a few decades of Jesus’ death and resurrection. There is less agreement, however, as to whether the Gospel should be dated before or after the fall of Jerusalem in AD 70. Several factors seem to point to a date prior to this watershed event. First, Jesus’ prophecy of the temple’s destruction is along the lines of Old Testament prophecies of doom, and contains no details that would suggest a description written after the fact. Second, the content and emphases of the Gospel cohere well with the historical situation of Christians under the persecutions of Nero in the late 60s. Finally, the early postbiblical sources mentioned above describe Mark as written either before the death of Peter (ca. AD 64–67), or shortly thereafter.[5]
For much of Church history Mark has been the neglected Gospel, used only rarely in preaching or doctrinal exposition. Dozens of commentaries on Matthew, Luke, and John were written by the Fathers of the Church, but not one on Mark appears until the early Middle Ages.[6] This was partly due to a view, originating with St. Augustine, that Mark is basically an abbreviated version of Matthew. Indeed, of the 661 verses of Mark, some 90 percent are reproduced in Matthew, and some 55 percent are in Luke. Only a few verses of Mark are not found in the other †Synoptic Gospels (Matthew and Luke), so the Second Gospel did not seem to have much to say that was distinctive.
With the rise of critical biblical scholarship in the nineteenth century, intensive research was done to uncover the stages of oral and written tradition that led to the Gospels in their present form. There was a new surge of interest in what became known as the Synoptic Problem: Why are the three Synoptic Gospels so different, yet so similar? Is there literary dependence among them? If so, who copied from whom? Which Gospel was composed first? By the twentieth century it was widely accepted that Mark was the most ancient Gospel, used by both Matthew and Luke. The verbal correspondences are too many and too extensive to be explained simply on the basis of common oral traditions. The passages shared by Matthew and Luke but not Mark, consisting mostly of Jesus’ teachings, must have come from a different, hypothetical source, which scholars labeled Q (for the German word Quelle, “source”). Suddenly Mark had come to center stage: it was thought to be the Gospel closest to the actual events, the one that simply reported them without the theologizing interpretations added by the later Evangelists.
A century of further scholarship has exposed significant defects in that theory. Mark is now recognized as a historian, theologian, and pastor in his own right, whose Gospel displays considerable literary artistry. He does not randomly string episodes one after another, but skillfully weaves them together in pursuit of his distinctive theological and pastoral aims. This does not mean that he is not faithfully reporting what he has received, either from Peter or from other oral or written sources. But it does mean that he recounts the events in such a manner as to reveal a unique dimension of the mystery of Jesus Christ, a dimension that the Church recognizes as an indispensable part of her Scriptures (see the Catechism, 126–27).
Where does that leave the question of the order of the Gospels? Most scholars today hold that Mark was composed first and was used by Matthew and Luke, for reasons that include the following: (1) It is harder to explain why Mark would omit key passages from his source, such as the infancy narratives, the Beatitudes, the Lord’s Prayer, and the resurrection appearances, than why Matthew and Luke would add them. (2) It seems more likely that Matthew and Luke would soften Mark’s blunt portrayal of the apostles’ defects than that Mark would add this theme. (3) Similarly, Matthew and Luke omit some of the more human actions and emotions that Mark attributes to Jesus, which are harder to explain in light of Jesus’ divinity. (4) If Mark is writing a digest of Matthew it is hard to see why he would add length and detail to many of the incidents he records. (5) Where the †Synoptics differ in the order of events, Matthew and Luke rarely agree against Mark, suggesting that they copied his work independently. (6) The Greek of Matthew and Luke is more polished than that of Mark; it seems that they consciously improved his style.[7]
A strong minority of scholars, however, contend that the priority of Matthew is more plausible: (1) In many passages Matthew and Luke differ slightly from Mark’s wording in exactly the same way, which is hard to explain if they copied him independently. (2) The best explanation for the passages Matthew and Luke share is not a hypothetical document Q (for which there is no evidence), but that one used the other’s work, as Luke 1:1 seems to indicate—specifically, that Mark used Matthew, and Luke used both Matthew and Mark. (3) Mark’s omission of certain passages is explained by his intention of writing a brief, evangelistic Gospel conveying the essentials of the good news for new converts. (4) Mark’s portrayal of the disciples’ weaknesses is due to his direct knowledge of these through Peter. (5) Mark accents the human qualities of Jesus in order to show Jesus’ human face to the suffering Christians of Rome. (6) Early Christian tradition held that Matthew was written first.[8]
How the Gospels were formed is a complex and fascinating problem that will probably not be solved before Jesus returns in glory. Most works of New Testament scholarship take Markan priority for granted, but it is important to keep in mind that our judgments are always hypothetical. No matter what sources our author used, we must study his work in order to understand his theology.
The Gospel of Mark is deceptively simple. Mark writes in a plain, “street language” style of Greek that made his writing accessible to the uneducated but led others to disparage his work as unrefined and vulgar. Yet as modern literary critics have come to recognize, Mark writes with consummate skill. His narrative style is the most vivid of the Gospels. One of his favorite words is euthys, “immediately,” used over forty times (as compared to six times in Matthew and once in Luke), giving his narrative a sense of urgency and fast-paced action. Mark often switches between past and present tense, as if to bring the action right into the present (a grammatical incongruity that most English translations do not attempt to reproduce). For example, a literal translation of Mark 1:40–44 would read like this:
A leper comes to him and, kneeling down, begs him and says, “If you wish, you can make me clean.” Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand and touched him, and he says to him, “I do will it. Be made clean.” The leprosy left him immediately, and he was made clean. Then, warning him sternly, he dismissed him at once. Then he says to him, “See that you tell no one anything.”
Although Mark is the shortest Gospel, lacking many of the lengthy teachings recorded by the other Evangelists, he often gives more detailed accounts of the episodes he does include (see, for instance, 2:1–12; 5:1–20). He frequently describes the emotional reactions of Jesus’ audience, whether wonder (15:5, 44), astonishment (1:27; 2:12; 10:24), fear (9:6; 10:32), or perplexity (6:20). And he does not hesitate to portray Jesus’ emotions: compassion (1:41), indignation (10:14), anger and exasperation (3:5; 7:34; 8:12), distress and sorrow (14:33–34).
Mark sometimes addresses his readers directly. For instance, “that you may know that the Son of Man has authority to forgive sins on earth” (2:10) can be read not only as Jesus’ statement to the †Pharisees but also as Mark’s comment to the reader. After Jesus’ teaching on defilement, Mark adds, “Thus he declared all foods clean” (7:19), helping his readers grasp the full significance of what the Lord has just said. Jesus’ long discourse on the Mount of Olives ends with a pointed warning to the reader: “What I say to you, I say to all: ‘Watch!’ ” (13:37). In this way Mark draws his readers into the crisis of decision that faced Jesus’ original audience. Who is Jesus? How will I respond to him? Is his death on the cross an abject failure, or is it God’s plan of salvation for the world?
The heart of Mark’s theology is the paschal mystery, the paradox of the Messiah who enters into his glorious reign only through the self-abasement of the cross. Mark probably gained this insight through his early mentor, St. Paul (see, for instance, 1 Cor 2:2; Gal 2:19–20; Phil 2:5–11). The cross casts its light and shadow over the whole Gospel, as the destination toward which all Jesus’ public ministry—and all Scripture—inexorably leads. But in a more subtle way, the resurrection too sheds its radiant light over the Gospel. Jesus’ teachings direct his listeners’ attention to the eternal life that he has come to give them (see 8:35b; 9:43; 10:30). His exorcisms and miracles prefigure his definitive victory over sin and Satan; his healings symbolize his raising of the dead on the last day.
Just as the truth of Jesus is found only in the cross, so is the secret of discipleship. To be a follower of Jesus is to share intimately in his life and destiny, as Paul also knew well (see Rom 8:17; Phil 3:8–11). Throughout the Gospel, Jesus’ focus is on forming deep bonds of communion with his disciples and preparing them for the ordeal that lies ahead. Ironically, this formation seems not to succeed, since his companions are consistently uncomprehending, hardened, doubting, and inept; they finally abandon their master in his hour of trial. Yet even their failure is part of God’s plan, for though they stumble, Jesus remains true, and through his total fidelity to the Father gains forgiveness and restoration for them. Just as in the Old Testament story of Israel, God’s love is often met with infidelity and betrayal, yet is constantly renewed, so the Gospel ends with the joyous promise of an encounter with the risen Lord.
Mark offers a bold portrayal of Jesus. He is not afraid to report features that may have stunned, or even scandalized, his audience. He recounts that even Jesus’ family thought he was mentally deranged (3:21). Only Mark records Jesus’ question to the rich man: “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone” (10:18). Where Matthew says that Jesus did not do any miracles in his hometown because of the people’s unbelief, Mark says he could not do any miracles there (6:5). He shows Jesus as ignorant of what his disciples were discussing (9:16, 33) or the time of the end (13:32). He depicts a profoundly human Jesus, who trembled at his approaching death (14:33) and felt abandoned by God (15:34). Yet for Mark these human touches do not in any way diminish Jesus’ sovereign majesty as the Father’s beloved Son. It is Mark who records the most direct affirmation by Jesus of his divine sonship found in any of the Gospels (see on 14:61–62).
Reading the Gospel of Mark Today
The Gospel of Mark and the three other canonical Gospels are unlike any other kind of literature. They are brief narratives recounting the life, ministry, and teachings of Jesus of Nazareth. In that sense they are roughly analogous to ancient biographies. But they are unique in that they are written from a standpoint of living faith in Jesus Christ, risen from the dead and exalted as Lord over all. For the Gospel writers, because Jesus is alive, all that he said and did in his earthly life is not merely a past event but a present source of grace and power to those who believe in him. They write so as to invite their readers to access that grace and power through faith.
One of the early readers of the Gospel was St. Ignatius, bishop of Antioch (ca. AD 35–110). On his way to martyrdom at Rome, Ignatius wrote, “I flee to the gospel as to the flesh of Jesus Christ.”[9] What he meant is that the Gospels do not merely tell him about Jesus but bring him into living contact with Jesus. They are in a sense his Real Presence. This is the way the Church has understood the Gospels from ancient times, and it is why the events in Jesus’ earthly life are traditionally called “mysteries.” As we read or hear the account of these events, especially in the liturgy, we are led into “the invisible mystery of his divine sonship and redemptive mission” (Catechism, 515). That is, the Gospel events become a pattern and effective cause of Jesus’ action within the members of his Church now. For this reason, interpretation of the Gospels can never be reduced to the application of exegetical methods. Although sound methods are important, ultimately the power of Scripture to bring us into contact with the living Christ is dependent on an ongoing work of the Spirit, bringing to light its deepest meaning and bearing witness to its truth in the mind of the reader.
The Gospels are also unique in that they are written in conscious continuity with the Scriptures of Israel. Indeed, they present Jesus as the culmination of God’s whole plan of salvation, who fulfills and reveals the hidden meaning of the Old Testament. All God’s dealings with his people Israel prefigure, lead up to, and find their full meaning in Christ. To read the Gospels properly, it is necessary to read them against their biblical background and to pay close attention to their rich tapestry of Old Testament quotations and allusions.
Finally, the Gospels are unique in that they are written in and for the community of believers, the Church. They are intended primarily to deepen the faith of those who have already heard the preaching of the good news and responded to it in faith, though for some the Gospels may serve as a first encounter with Jesus.
The setting in which Mark wrote his Gospel is not unlike the situation of Christians today. Those striving to be faithful to Jesus may sometimes feel like a frightened boatful of disciples on the storm-tossed sea of a society that is often hostile to the gospel. As in Mark’s day, to be a committed Christian can often mean suffering condescension or hostility from friends or colleagues and exclusion from positions of influence in the world of culture, education, or politics. In many parts of the world, being a Christian puts one at risk of persecution, discrimination, torture, or death. Yet the popes at the beginning of the third millennium have prophetically announced a new evangelization—a new mobilization of the Church to bring the good news once again to the ends of the earth—both to revitalize the lukewarm and to introduce Jesus to those who have never met him before. In such a context, the Gospel of Mark has fresh relevance as a means of evangelization and a source of rich insight on what it means to be a follower of Jesus.
The present commentary has come to birth thanks to the friendship and support of many of my fellow disciples on the way of Jesus Christ. I wish to thank especially my coeditors, Peter Williamson and Kevin Perrotta, for their thorough and incisive comments that greatly improved the manuscript. Jeff Wittung and the capable staff at Baker Academic have been tremendously helpful in guiding this book and series to publication. Thanks also to Fr. Frank Matera, Fr. J. Michael McDermott, Deacon Robert Schwartz, and Eric Sammons for their valuable comments, and to my many friends and family members who have helped bring this work to completion through their encouragement, enthusiasm, and prayers. Finally, this book is dedicated to Fr. Francis Martin, who first brought the words of Scripture to life for me in a summer course on the Gospel of Mark in 1987 and who never tires of preaching the life-giving message of the cross.