THIRTY YEARS AGO Paul Scherer outlined issues one needs to struggle with when interpreting the Scripture—issues that this commentary series consciously tries to address. He wrote that as one ponders the text one tries to determine:
(a) Both what happened here … and what the God whose deed is his living Word is saying in and through what happened … to you and your people.
(b) What the central thrust of the passage is, that which gathers up all its concerns and gives them direction.
(c) The theological significance of what is being said or done, its place in the systematic thinking which the church has done about her faith.
(d) Its point of immediacy or relevance, where it sits closest and most urgently to our situation, not as an “answer” to our questions so much as questioning of our answers.
(e) The problems of communication that have to be faced, the hazards of thought and experience which stand in the way as we try to hear the Word that is being addressed to us.1
Wrestling with this task is far from easy but incredibly rewarding. It has its risks, however, because one is consciously trying to apply a first-century text to the religious interests of the present. Albert Schweitzer underscored the dangers in his renowned critique of the German lives of Jesus. He wrote:
As of old Jacob wrestled with the angel, so German theology wrestles with Jesus of Nazareth and will not let Him go until He bless it—that is, until He will consent to serve it and will suffer Himself to be drawn by the Germanic spirit into the midst of our time and our civilisation. But when the day breaks, the wrestler must let Him go. He will not cross the ford with us. Jesus of Nazareth will not suffer Himself to be modernised. As an historic figure He refuses to be detached from his own time. He has no answer for the question, “Tell us Thy name in our speech and for our day!” But He does bless those who have wrestled with Him, so that, though they cannot take Him with them, yet, like men who have seen God face to face and received strength in their souls, they go on their way with renewed courage, ready to do battle with the world and its powers.2
Schweitzer perhaps has exaggerated the danger but has clearly pointed out the pitfalls of trying to draw out the contemporary significance of the text. So often, we make Jesus into our image. For this reason, I have employed ancient literature outside the Scriptures to try to understand the Jesus we meet in Mark in his own historical context before building the bridge to bring him into our contemporary world. These tasks—and it is like wrestling—must be completed if Jesus’ story will speak to and challenge each generation and culture afresh.
I wish to thank many for helping in the completion of this commentary. I was especially appreciative of the encouragement and advice of Jack Kuhatschek, Verlyn D. Verbrugge, and Scot McKnight, who read and commented on the entire manuscript. Klyne Snodgrass and Terry Muck offered helpful counsel early on. I would also like to thank a list of students who read through a rough draft in an M.Div. seminar: Bruce Allen, Vicky Belcher, Jeff Elieff, Michael Elliott, Terré Jasper, O. H. Nipper, Jr., Ronald L. Mercer, Guillermina Deneb de Montalvo Podgaisky, Thom Thornton, Sean White, and Yin Xu. Our cultural differences made for interesting discussions on the meaning and application of the text. My graduate fellow Sam Pelletier also offered helpful insights, and David Drinnon helped me immensely in the final stages. Of course, they bear no responsibility for any errors and saved me from many.
I also wish to express my appreciation to three churches I served as interim pastor during the writing of this commentary: Crescent Hill Baptist Church in Louisville, Kentucky; First Baptist Church in Crothersville, Indiana; and Immanuel Baptist Church in Lexington, Kentucky. They heard more than their fair share of sermons from Mark, and the task of preaching each week helped make me sensitive to the need of bridging contexts and drawing out the contemporary significance of the text. They were very loving, supportive, and encouraging.
I wish to thank my children, Sarah and John, for bringing so much joy, fun, and love to my life. I dedicate this book to my wife, Diana, who read many drafts and allowed me to include her piece reflecting on marriage in the commentary. She is an extraordinary model of integrity, courage, and love.
—David E. Garland
Louisville, Kentucky
April, 1996