WHEN THE SABBATH was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus’ body. 2Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb 3and they asked each other, “Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?”
4But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. 5As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.
6“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. 7But go, tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.’”
8Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.
Original Meaning
THE WOMEN FOLLOWERS of Jesus rise to unexpected prominence at the very end of the story. Prior to Jesus’ crucifixion and burial, there has been no indication in the Gospel that Jesus had any women followers. Now they surface as the prime witnesses to the events that are the foundation of Christian belief: that Jesus died, was buried, and was raised (1 Cor. 15:3–4). Their emergence as the key witnesses oddly attests to the truth of what Mark reports since it is highly unlikely that the church would have invented a small group of women to furnish evidence for such events.1 2
Mark’s Passion narrative began with a woman lavishly anointing Jesus to express her deep devotion, and he interpreted it as the preparation for his burial. It ends with women no less loving and devoted seeking to anoint Jesus after his burial. They come with their articles of death, expecting to apply their unguents on a brutalized corpse. They are drawn to the tomb by their loyalty to Jesus, determined to render one last service to their Master, just as Peter was drawn to the courtyard of the high priest. They bolt from the tomb, however, seized by fear, just as Peter dashed into the night, seized by grief. Their true loyalty is thrown into question because Mark reports that they ignore the angel’s command to “go, tell.” They say nothing to anyone.
The account of the women’s arrival of the women at the tomb parallels the account of Jesus’ burial. Each scene begins with a time reference, and they form a chiasm:
Time reference: When evening had come on the Day of Preparation, before the Sabbath (15:42).
A. Joseph, a respected Council member who was awaiting the kingdom of heaven, comes to Pilate and dares to ask for the body of Jesus (15:43).
B. Pilate marvels that Jesus is already dead, confirms it with the centurion (15:44), and grants the body to Joseph (15:45).
C. Joseph purchases a linen shroud, wraps Jesus in it, lays him in a tomb hewn from rock, and rolls a stone before the door of the tomb (15:46).
D. Mary Magdalene and Mary [the mother] of Joses observe where Jesus is laid (15:47).
Time reference: After the Sabbath had passed … very early at sunrise on the first day of the week (16:1–2).
D′. Mary Magdalene and Mary [the mother] of James (16:1) decide to head to the tomb.
C′. They purchase spices to anoint the body, go to the tomb, and worry, “Who will roll the stone from the entrance of the tomb?” (16:3).
B′. They discover that the large stone has been rolled back (16:4) and marvel at a young man who informs them that Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified, is not dead but has been raised (16:5–6).
A′. The women flee in fear and trembling and do not relay the instructions to the disciples that Jesus goes before them to Galilee, for they are afraid (they do not dare).
The Report of Jesus’ Resurrection
THE TIME NOTICES—“PREPARATION Day (that is, the day before the Sabbath)” (15:42) and “when the Sabbath was over” (16:1)—explain why the women do not try to anoint Jesus sooner. They cannot purchase spices or travel about on the Sabbath, but they move into action as soon as they can. They obviously do not anticipate Jesus’ resurrection and do not go to the tomb to check if his prediction that he will be raised on the third day might be fulfilled. Mark makes it plain that they go on the third day because they cannot come earlier.
The rising of the sun dispels the darkness that covered the whole land during the crucifixion (16:2). The beginning of this week marks the dawning of a new beginning for humanity. In Scripture, God’s help comes to the afflicted especially in the morning: “Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning” (Ps 30:5; see 59:16; 90:14; 143:8).3
The women must still be grief-stricken because they give no thought to how they will move the stone before they set out. Their anxiety about the stone, however, allows the narrator to emphasize its great size. It cannot easily be rolled back; only a miracle can move it. The women do not come to the tomb with any sense of hope, and their fretting about the stone creates dramatic tension. When “they look up,” they realize that they have been anxious about entering a tomb already open.4 Even when they discover the stone removed, they are still unprepared for the news about what it means. They come to the tomb wondering how the stone can be moved; they leave wondering how the stone could have been moved. They come to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus; they learn that he has received a higher anointing from God.
Mark is not interested in telling the story of how the stone was moved. The tomb is open so that the women can enter and see that Jesus is not there. But the tomb is not empty. Looking into the tomb, the women find a young man clothed in a white robe sitting on the right, the favorable side that bodes well. The readers are essentially left to guess for themselves who this young man is, but recent interpretations that try to connect this young man to the young man who fled in the garden leaving behind his linen cloth are unwarranted.5 He is an angelic figure, who gives a typical angelic reassurance, “Don’t be alarmed” (16:6; cf. Dan. 8:17–18; 10:8–12).6 Christian art has led us to imagine angels with expansive wings and halos. This angel is not like the fantastical “four living creatures” who came to Ezekiel in a stormy wind with brightness and fire flashing forth (Ezek. 1:4–14). The biblical description of other angels depicts them as quite humanlike (Gen. 18:2; 19:1–11; Dan. 8:15–16; 9:21; 10:5).7
Mark’s Gospel began with God’s messenger announcing what God was about to do (1:2–8); it closes with God’s messenger announcing what God has done. The clothes of both messengers are described. The rough hair shirt of the prophet contrasts with the white robe of the angel. The “way” figures in both scenes: In the opening scene, the way is to be prepared; in the last, the way has been prepared and disciples are to follow, going to Galilee, where Jesus has gone before them.
The angel’s message in chapter 16, however, is more momentous than that of the prophet John. Only a divine being can disclose divine truth that is beyond ordinary human experience and knowledge, and the angel explains the meaning of the empty tomb. He comes also to steer the women to a new quest. As Minear puts it well, “God does not disclose the Resurrection fact except to enlist people in a task.”8 His greeting assures them that they are at the right tomb: “See the place where they laid him.” They have not made a mistake. The angel also identifies the one they seek as “Jesus the Nazarene” (see 1:24; 10:47; 14:67), the crucified and risen one. His terse announcement of Jesus’ resurrection, “he has risen,” is similar to Mark’s description of his execution: “and they crucified him” (15:24). The resurrection erases the disdain associated with the name “Nazarene” and the dishonor connected to being crucified. God reverses Jesus’ miserable earthly fate, fulfilling his predictions that he would rise again (8:31; 9:31; 10:34).
Throughout the Gospel, Jesus has been on the move; nothing changes after his resurrection. He is not in the tomb for the women to cling to and embrace. Yet the story cannot end with a joyful reunion because the resurrection is only the beginning of the gospel that must be proclaimed throughout the world. The women must go to the disciples, who must in turn go to Galilee. This command is the first time that Jesus’ followers are told to tell something about him. The crucifixion and the resurrection, therefore, mark a turning point. There is no need for silence or secrets now (see 9:9). As Marcus points out, “Whereas before those events Jesus commanded secrecy and open proclamation was disobedience, now Jesus commands open proclamation and secrecy is disobedience.”9
Peter is especially singled out in the command, and this last reference to him forms a kind of inclusio. He is the first and last disciple mentioned in the Gospel (1:16; 16:7). The resurrection revokes death and destruction, and it also revokes sin. This special nod to Peter hints at his full restoration despite his extraordinary breach of faith. Jesus does not give up on his disciples, no matter how great their failure or how many their faults.
The announcement that “he is going ahead of you” is as important as the word that “he is not here.” The verb used here (proago) does not simply mean that Jesus has gone on ahead of his disciples. Thucydides uses the verb for leading troops forward, and Polybius uses it for a commander making an advance.10 Earlier, Jesus connected the promise that he would go before them to Galilee to the image of shepherd (14:27–28). Jesus has fed his flock (6:34) and has laid down his life for them, which caused them to be scattered. As the risen Lord, he will regather them into the fold. Just as the earthly Jesus led his frightened disciples to Jerusalem by going before them (10:32), so the risen Jesus goes ahead of them still, leading the church.
What is the significance of going back to Galilee? Many understand this reference as theological as well as literal geography. Some take it to be a symbolic summons to the Gentile mission. Mark, however, never refers to Galilee as the “Galilee of the Gentiles,” as Matthew does (Matt. 4:15). If anything symbolizes the Gentile mission in Mark, it is Jesus’ forays outside Galilee. Others interpret the verb “to see” (“there you will see him”) to refer to the Parousia rather than the resurrection (see Mark 13:26; 14:62). They explain this command to mean that the disciples (and Mark’s readers) are to assemble in Galilee to await the eschatological climax. But Mark does not associate Galilee with the Parousia either. The reference to Galilee in 14:28 explicitly connects it with Jesus’ resurrection (“after I have risen”), not his Parousia. The verb “to see,” therefore, refers to seeing the risen Lord (see John 20:18, 25, 29; 1 Cor. 9:1).
The command to go to Galilee does make one thing clear: Jerusalem is not the center of God’s movement. The disciples’ future lies elsewhere. Jerusalem has become the city of the fruitless and doomed temple, the stronghold of hostility to the gospel, and the place of Jesus’ savage execution. In the Gospel, Galilee has been the place of calling, faith, compassion, healing power, and authority. By going back to Galilee where Jesus will be, the disciples go back to the promising birth of their call to discipleship. There they can regroup and begin again the journey of discipleship.
In Galilee the disciples will physically see Jesus, but “seeing” also has to do with spiritual perception (2:5; 4:12; 8:18; 15:39)—something that has eluded the disciples more often than not in the narrative. They will also see him “in the sense of gaining true insight into his identity.”11 Jesus will heal them of their blindness so that they will understand fully who he is, what his life and death mean, and how they must now follow him. The disciples’ shabby performance during the last week of Jesus’ life has exposed them as sinners. Now Jesus will regather them as a new people who take up their cross, following after him and proclaiming God’s triumph over Satan, sin, and death. Their eyes and ears will be open; they will know more about where the road leads.
The Conclusion to the Gospel
IN THE EARLIEST and most reliable manuscripts, Mark’s Gospel ends with verse 8. Such an abrupt ending has perplexed readers for centuries. Many argue that Mark would not have left the narrative hanging and must have continued with a fuller picture of what happened next. They point to several problems with this ending. (1) It seems unusual, if not impossible in Greek, to end a paragraph, let alone a book, with the conjunction “for” (ephobounto gar, “for they were afraid”). (2) It seems unusual to end the story with the women paralyzed by fear and failing to carry out what the angel commissioned them to do. (3) It seems peculiar that Mark would not include some account of Jesus’ meeting his disciples in Galilee since the resurrection appearances were a basic element of Christian preaching from the beginning (see 1 Cor. 15:5).
These objections do not carry the verdict, however. The grammar may be thought graceless, like ending an English sentence with a preposition; but Mark is not known for his elegant style, and verse 8 is a complete thought.12 The shorter and longer endings to Mark have the women informing the disciples about what they have seen, which appears to contradict the statement that “they said nothing to anyone.” As for this final gap in the narrative, Hooker notes that Mark’s method throughout the Gospel has been “to leave his readers to make the crucial step of faith.”13 The restoration of the “scattered disciples” occurs beyond the narrative of the Gospel.
Convincing arguments tell against the longer ending (16:9–20) as the original ending to Mark. The two oldest Greek manuscripts omit it, along with many versions, and early church fathers show no knowledge of its existence. The longer ending’s vocabulary and style differ strikingly from that found in the rest of Mark and are immediately recognizable. The transition between 16:8 and 16:9 is also awkward. In 16:8, the women are the subject. The subject suddenly switches to Jesus in 16:9,14 when he appears to Mary Magdalene, completely ignoring the other two women. Mary Magdalene is specifically identified as the one from whom Jesus had cast out seven demons (see Luke 8:2), although she had already been introduced in 15:40, 47 and 16:1 without any such description. Why would the fourth mention of Mary Magdalene suddenly introduce this background? It serves as a tip-off that a later scribe, drawing on other traditions, has added this section.
Moreover, all of the material in 16:9–20 appears to be garnered from accounts found in the other three Gospels: the appearance to Mary Magdalene (16:9–11; cf. John 20:14–18); the appearance to two disappointed disciples in the country (Mark 16:12–13; cf. Luke 24:13–35); the commissioning of the disciples (Mark 16:14–16; cf. Matt. 28:16–20); speaking in tongues (Mark 16:17; cf. Acts 2:4–11; 10:46; 19:6); handling snakes (Mark 16:18a; cf. Luke 10:19; Acts 28:3–6); laying on hands (Mark 16:18b; cf. Acts 3:1–10; 5:12–16; 9:12, 17–18; James 5:14–15); the ascension of Jesus (Mark 16:19; cf. Luke 24:50–53; Acts 1:9–11). That a later scribe compiled these excerpts from the other Gospels to provide an orthodox and more satisfactory conclusion to Mark’s Gospel is the most likely explanation. Even the longer ending has been subject to tinkering. Sixteen lines of text that describe Jesus’ upbraiding of his disciples and his outlining an eschatological scheme have been appended to 16:14 in one ancient fragment.
The existence of a shorter ending suggests that other scribes tried their hand at tying up the loose ends of what was considered a ragged and inconclusive finale. This text appears in only a handful of later manuscripts. The phrase “the sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal salvation” clearly smacks of the vocabulary and style of a later era.
The two main extant endings to Mark testify that some early readers did not appreciate an ending that left everything in the air. One naturally wants to bring a sense of closure to the story and to pad it with something more uplifting and reassuring. Both variants, in my opinion, are examples of a less-skilled hand trying to fix what the Master had not made explicit or had made too explicit, like the later artists who tried to fix Michelangelo’s masterpiece in the Sistine Chapel by painting clothes on naked figures.
Some scholars who judge these surviving endings to the Gospel to be spurious surmise that the Evangelist never completed the Gospel for some reason.15 Various imaginative explanations have been proposed. Perhaps Mark was martyred before finishing the task. The Gospel’s ending was possibly damaged in some way and lost. A column or two at the end of the scroll could have been accidentally torn off or tattered from frequent use. If it were a codex, one could imagine that the first leaf would have also been damaged. The Gospel of Mark begins no less abruptly than it ends. Perhaps a birth narrative has disappeared as well as the resurrection narrative. If the ending were lost, presumably from constant use, however, it would have been in use long enough for someone to restore the ending from memory or for other copies to exist. Otherwise, the loss must have occurred almost immediately.
Against such speculation, Hooker observes that it is “remarkable … that an accidental break should have occurred at a point where a case can at least be made for arguing that Mark intended to stop.”16 Many today have discerned literary genius in the sudden ending to the Gospel and appreciate its artistic effect. It is unlikely that the Gospel would fortuitously break off at precisely the right word,17 and the great textual critic Kurt Aland characterizes attempts to recover the lost ending as fascinating but “will of the wisp.”18 In my opinion, Mark fully intended to end his Gospel with the startling disclosure that the women spoke to no one because they were afraid. If we want to understand Mark, we must grapple with this awkward conclusion no matter how unsatisfying it might be.
The abrupt ending both surprises and creates suspense. Mark may have felt no need to relate resurrection appearances to readers who had heard them so often. Magness argues that it was standard literary practice in the ancient world to allude to well-known events that occurred after those being narrated in a text without actually narrating those events.19 Peterson makes a distinction between “story time” and “plotted time.”20 The ancient stylist Demetrius advises leaving gaps in narratives: “Some things seem to be more significant when not expressed,” and those omissions “will make an expression more forcible.”21
In sum, the ending goads the reader to react. We must assume that the disciples reunite with Jesus in story time, though not in the plotted time of the Gospel; otherwise this Gospel would never have been written. We must now become participants because we are forced to fill in the unnarrated events from the clues Mark has offered thus far. When presented with this ending, we must ask, “What happened? What will happen?” We must also go to Jesus and not only tell about his resurrection but tell the entire story from the beginning.
The Women’s Fear
THIS CONCLUSION ABOUT Mark’s ending raises questions about the women’s departure from the tomb and the nature of their fear. One might expect them to run quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy and tell his disciples (so Matt. 28:8), but Mark reports that they dash away in incoherent silence. Are their flight and silence to be attributed to faintheartedness and disobedience or to urgency and awe? Is one to understand their silence as only temporary incapacity because of the breathtaking nature of the news or as another sad example of abject failure by Jesus’ followers?
Some contend that the women’s silence depicts the effects of a frightening encounter with divine power. Jesus told his disciples, “The secret of the kingdom of God has been given to you” (4:11), but sometimes the mystery’s staggering nature is too much to comprehend. The women’s fear may be interpreted as awe that befalls one who stands before God’s presence and action (see Ps. 2:11)—an explanation that makes Mark’s conclusion less grim. Jesus’ resurrection from the dead is so astounding that one cannot grasp it all, and the women need time to collect their thoughts. When they flee the tomb, their sense of urgency causes them to speak to no one on the way (see Luke 10:4; cf. 2 Kings 4:29). Minear’s poetic conclusion to his commentary on Mark best summarizes this interpretation of the women’s flight.
The amazement of the women (vs. 5) turns into trembling, astonishment, fear, flight, silence. All of these are considered in the Bible to be appropriate and normal human responses to the appearance of God, to a messenger from God, to an event in which God’s power is released. The prophets all knew this fear and trembling (for example, Isa. 6). They all knew the unutterable weakness of those who receive God’s call. Fear stresses the reality of the divine power and glory. Flight (very different from the flight at Jesus’ arrest) accents the unbearable character of the presence of God. Silence is appropriate to God’s speaking, and to the stupendous impact of God’s word. Who can stand when he appears? Who can speak when he speaks? Who can remain calm when he gives a commission? At least the women could not, and presumably neither could the disciples when the message from the women had been delivered, starting them on their new work.22
But this is not the only possible interpretation. People respond with fear throughout Mark. The disciples were awestruck when confronted with Jesus’ overwhelming power to calm the sea (4:41). The Gerasenes feared Jesus’ power to drive out a legion of demons and to restore a man to his right mind (5:15). A woman feared when her plague was healed by simply touching his garments (5:33). The disciples were filled with fear when they saw Jesus walk on the sea (6:50), appear transfigured (9:6), and march undaunted toward his destiny on a cross (10:32). Humans have been deaf and dumb to God’s glory throughout the story. Why should we not expect this same reaction when these women meet with the most powerful divine act of all, Jesus’ resurrection from the dead?
Juel points out a “great irony” here: “When followers are finally told to speak about Jesus, they say nothing to anyone.”23 It is absurd, however, to think that something this incredible can be kept quiet for long. That these women say nothing immediately does not mean that they never speak anything for decades. Their silence will only be limited.24 Throughout the Gospel it has been impossible to keep silent the stupendous miracles of Christ. Something this remarkable cannot be kept hidden.
On the other hand, one can interpret the women’s fear as an improper reaction and their silent stupor as disobedience.25 Peter’s wrong response to the Transfiguration is connected to fear: “He did not know what to say, they were so frightened” (9:6). The disciples’ fear in following Jesus to Jerusalem is a sign of their weakness and incomprehension in spite of the private tutorials (9:32; 10:32). Just as the disciples failed when they beat a retreat at Jesus’ arrest (14:50–52), followed him from a distance (14:54), and denied him before others (14:66–72), so the women failed by standing at a distance during his crucifixion (15:40), not confessing at his death; and they fail again as they flee from the tomb, not telling the good tidings.
It is not a closed-minded disbelief that muzzles their voices; that would drain the power of the gospel (see 6:3–5). Rather, the cause is pure and simple fear. Fear surfaces among Jesus’ followers both before the cross and after the resurrection. The resurrection does not mean that all now is set right and that everyone will live happily ever after. The flesh is still weak (14:38). The discourse on the Mount of Olives makes it clear that after the resurrection, Jesus’ followers will be living in a period of woes. There will be wars (13:7), persecution (13:9), betrayal (13:12–13), tribulation (13:19), and deception (13:21–22). If they proclaim the good news, Jesus has promised that they will be hated by all (13:13). Many will suffer the same fear as the women and will try to take cover in silence. Disciples need to learn to lose their lives to save them, which means losing their fear.
The beginning of the Gospel also matches the end in that there is no closure to the story of the temptation. The reader is not told the outcome. Jesus is left in the desert and served by angels. The scene beginning the next section shows him in Galilee, proclaiming the gospel. The reader is therefore subconsciously prepared for the ending. Jesus has battled the forces of evil on the cross and has conquered death through the empty tomb. The next scene assumes that there will be a rendezvous in Galilee, where again the good news of victory will ring out, only this time it will be of an even greater and decisive victory.
Bridging Contexts
NO CANONICAL GOSPEL narrates a description of the resurrection. It is only prophesied in advance, foreshadowed in the Transfiguration, and announced after the fact. Mark does not answer the prying questions that both the skeptical and pious might raise today: When did he arise? By what means? In what form? By what evidence may we be sure?26 The resurrection is something off the map of what we can know through our primitive historical and scientific methods. Mark also does not present the empty tomb as proof of the resurrection. He does not argue that because the grave is empty, Jesus must be resurrected.
Without question, the tomb was empty, but others in the first century drew quite different conclusions from that fact. Matthew reports that the leaders began to spread a rumor that the disciples came at night and stole the body (Matt. 28:11–13). An empty tomb therefore provides no conclusive proof. Instead, Mark argues: Jesus has been resurrected; therefore he is not here.27 Jesus has promised that God will raise him from the dead, and the angel announces that God has done so. Faith rests on the proclamation of the resurrection and going to see him. This leads us to the more important questions: Where is he? and, How can we find him?
Mark’s Gospel ends on a puzzling note: an empty tomb, a mysterious young man declaring that Jesus has been raised but offering no proof, a promise of Jesus’ going ahead of his disciples (or leading them) to Galilee, and women too scared to say anything. This strange, dissatisfying ending does not seem an appropriate one for a story supposed to be good news. Instead of triumph and joy, we encounter confusion and terror. We expect that something good is going to happen when the women find the large stone rolled away, but it does not. The angel does not announce, “Surprise! Here he is!” but “He is not here!” The women go from the tomb, but they do not go and tell as the angel instructed them. The angel does not track them down to reassure them again and spur them on to complete the task.
In other words, Mark’s ending seems to lead to a dead end. Since Mark does not record Jesus’ rendezvous with his disciples in Galilee, the last words he speaks in this Gospel are: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (15:34). We readers may feel a little forsaken at this point. Any anticipation of a grand, triumphant reunion with the remnant of faithful disciples, of more proofs of the verity of Jesus’ resurrection, and of more specific instructions and assurances is smashed by this abrupt ending.
It is not as if no one will learn or can find out what happened next. We can assume that this Gospel’s first auditors were familiar with the account of the postresurrection appearances since they were so well known at Corinth (1 Cor. 15:3–10). Mark’s ending, in fact, conforms to the creedal formula in 1 Corinthians 15:3–5:
1 Corinthians 15 |
Mark 16 |
Christ died for our sins (v. 3) |
You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified (v. 6). |
He was buried (v. 4). |
See the place where they laid him (v. 6) |
He was raised on the third day (v. 4). |
He has risen! He is not here (16:6) |
He appeared to Cephas, and then to the Twelve (v. 5) |
Tell his disciples and Peter, “He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you” (v. 7) |
One is left to speculate why Mark does not supply all the details of the resurrection appearances. Did he want to emphasize Jesus’ humanity and consequently shrink from reporting his appearances as a resurrected heavenly being? The first auditors were not hoping for a private appearance of Jesus to a select few but the consummation of the age, when Jesus would become manifest to all as the Son of God and before whom every knee would bow. Did Mark want to stress that the next time disciples would see him was when he returned in the clouds with great power and glory and dispatched his angels to gather his elect from the four winds (13:26–27)?
Recent reader response criticism offers perhaps the best explanation for this hanging conclusion. Mark wants to draw the reader into this account. He writes for Christians who are already acquainted with the account of Jesus’ resurrection. They do not fret, “Oh, those foolish women, who never told the good news! Now no one will ever know what happened!” They know that the news has been proclaimed. Readers can deduce this from the text. How else could the report of the Transfiguration, witnessed only by Peter, James, and John, have been made known? Jesus commanded them not to tell what happened “until [he] had risen from the dead” (9:9).
A secular literary critic has commented on Mark’s ending: “The conclusion is either intolerably clumsy; or it is incredibly subtle.”28 I would argue that it is incredibly subtle and consequently incredibly powerful. It forces us back into the narrative to fill the gaps, and we see that Jesus’ words have been fulfilled to the letter in everything that has happened to this point. We know that Jesus’ word is trustworthy, and his promises will come true. Jesus promised his disciples that they would be scattered and he would go before them to Galilee (14:28). We know that they did from accounts beyond this narrative, but the Gospel ends like one of Jesus’ parables and forces us to work things out for ourselves.29 This incomplete ending, therefore, has Christ still waiting symbolically in Galilee for his followers to come and forces us to ask whether we will go to meet him there as well. It also prompts us to reflect on our own fear and silence.
We expect more from the end of this Gospel because modern readers are familiar with the more extensive endings of the other Gospels. Since preachers frequently choose the texts they use for Easter worship, many prefer to preach the resurrection accounts from one of the other Gospels or to use the long ending of Mark, so familiar to people raised on the KJV. They may regard Mark’s stopping point as intolerably clumsy, completely inadequate, or deeply unsatisfying. This ending does not quite fit the Easter hymns with their alleluias. Its incredible subtlety and power, therefore, goes untapped. It comes as a jolt, but one can profit greatly from reflecting on what this abrupt ending means.
(1) “He is not here. See the place where they laid him.” There is no reunion with the familiar earthly form of Jesus, with tears of joy and hugs all around. Jesus cannot be held by death, let alone by a stone. He is free from death, transformed from this earthly existence and unleashed on the world. One cannot meet him at the place where they laid him. His grave is not to become a shrine like David’s tomb (Acts 2:29), the dressed-up tombs of the prophets (Matt. 23:29–31), or the tombs of modern-day leaders. The God who raises the dead has no use for earthly memorials. The tombstone is not to become a wailing wall. God is not the God of the dead, entombed in shrines, but of the living.
(2) When we read accounts of Jesus’ resurrection, we look for confirmation that what we believe about Jesus’ resurrection is completely trustworthy rather than being presented with more disturbing questions. Mark disappoints us. He opened his Gospel with a voice from heaven authenticating Jesus’ identity, mission, and authority. At the end, we have only the testimony of a young man, whom we can identify as an angel, and the witness of women whose testimony was considered to be invalid—and they keep mum. The resurrection, as Mark presents it, is not formally verifiable according to scientific rules of evidence. Mark offers no evidence that the young man’s message is true, except that he reiterates precisely what Jesus said would happen (14:28). The reader is therefore left in suspense with the bare word of Jesus’ promise.
We may want from Mark what Acts reports: “He showed himself to these men and gave many convincing proofs that he was alive” (Acts 1:3). Today, however, one cannot prove scientifically beyond a shadow of a doubt that the resurrection occurred. Belief that the resurrection did happen is a logical inference. When other messianic figures, such as Bar Kochba, died, their followers did not solve the problem of their disappointing deaths by inventing stories of their resurrection. They reacted the same way the disciples on the Emmaus road did after the crucifixion: “We had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel,” but we were wrong (Luke 24:21). One does not logically infer resurrection from crucifixion. The first Christians’ firm belief that God raised Jesus from the dead can only stem from the fact that something actually happened.
The Gospels, however, do not offer proof for those who say, in effect, “Show us and we will believe” (Mark 15:32). When we proclaim the text from Mark, we should not try to supplement the account by amassing other convincing proofs. All we have is the news that Jesus has been raised. If any want to see Jesus for themselves, they must leave the tomb and go where he leads—to Galilee, back to the beginning, where one must learn to follow him again. If we ask where the Christ is, Mark’s answer is that he is always on ahead of us, leading us on to new lands. Jesus is to be found today in obedience to his command.
(3) Mark does not dwell on the theological significance of the resurrection. The reader can see that Jesus’ resurrection reverses the humiliation and degradation of his scandalous crucifixion. The God who brought Israel up out of the sea (Isa. 63:11) has brought Jesus up from the grave. His resurrection sets the stage for his exaltation to the right hand of Power, where he now reigns and will return to judge (Mark 8:38; 14:62) and to gather the elect (13:26–27). The reader can surmise that Jesus’ resurrection is qualitatively different from the raising of Jairus’s daughter. His resurrection not only permanently exalts him as the firstborn of those raised from the dead, but becomes a saving event for all those who confess him as the Son of God and follow him in obedience. God has decisively answered the women’s question, “Who will roll the stone away?”—not only from Jesus’ grave but also from ours. Jesus’ resurrection destroys the power of death over human beings, which seems to be a huge stone that no one can ever roll it away. The message of Jesus’ resurrection transforms a hopeless end into an endless hope.
Contemporary Significance
(1) MARK’S ENDING teaches us that Christians after the resurrection must still live with ambiguity. We want the Gospel to conclude on a note of victory and good cheer, but that was not Mark’s situation. The ache of death is not so easily assuaged. Mark writes for those who never will experience Jesus’ physical presence. He writes for those who may feel like the disciples, struggling against the wind in a tiny skiff during the dark hours of the night and feeling acute anguish because Jesus is not physically there to be touched or to give a word of assurance. In a setting of withering persecution, things can look ambiguous. The risen Jesus does not materialize bodily in our midst. Angels do not descend to give reassuring reports. We have to believe in Jesus’ resurrection based on hearsay evidence—the same report that the women heard: “He has risen.” Lincoln writes: “Even after God’s revelation has taken place in Jesus’ resurrection, mystery, fear, and failure remain.”30
Confusion also reigns in the other Gospels when news of Jesus’ resurrection breaks. In Matthew, some doubt when Jesus appears to the Eleven (Matt. 28:17); Jesus dispels that doubt by his word of command (Matt. 28:19–20). On the Emmaus road, two friends mistake the risen Jesus for a stranger (Luke 24:13–21); their eyes are opened only after Jesus breaks bread with them. In the Fourth Gospel, Mary Magdalene confuses the resurrected Jesus for the gardener (John 20:11–18); her despair is allayed when Jesus calls her name. The resurrection has not completely changed people’s cloudy vision or their sinfulness. People will still tell lies about him, and his messengers will still be beaten and killed. Followers will still experience confusion. Only at the end of time, when the Son of Man is manifest in all his glory, will all ambiguity be eliminated.
Like the first auditors of this Gospel, we have only the reports from the eyewitnesses to confirm the resurrection, no scientific proof. How will we know for sure that what they say is true? Will we be willing to stake our lives on that truth? Will we demand something more from God before we will make a commitment? Mark’s ending shows that the historical question, “Was it real?” ignores the more crucial question, “Is it real?” Something other than a pious dropping by the tomb once every Easter and looking in to see that it is empty is required to spark faith.
(2) The ending of this Gospel means that the last scene in which Jesus speaks is from the cross. In Mark one sees most vividly the power of God working in the crucifixion. The ending therefore means that one cannot proclaim the glories of the resurrection to the neglect of the suffering of the cross. The confession, “Surely this man was the Son of God!” (15:39), comes when Jesus dies on the cross, not at the empty tomb.
(3) The ending touches on the problem that fallible humans must live with failure. The way of discipleship is not a triumphant procession through the world, like a hot knife cutting through butter. It is a way pocked by personal failure after personal failure. It may seem that the Gospel ends on a pessimistic note because Mark does not report that the women successfully fulfill their commission. Mark’s story, however, is not about the disciples’ foolishness and failure. The gospel is about the power of God, which overcomes human dysfunction and disaster. We know that Jesus’ resurrection was proclaimed and is being proclaimed throughout the world, just as Jesus said it would. This means that God’s will and Jesus’ promise have been fulfilled despite human disobedience. Jesus promised his disciples that he would go before them to Galilee in 14:28, and the angel reiterates that promise in 16:7. Mark only recorded the promise in 16:7 because he knew it took place, though he has chosen not to tell us the details. Lane perceptively comments, “The focus upon human inadequacy, lack of understanding and weakness throws into bold relief the action of God and its meaning.”31
Mark’s ending, therefore, reveals that the “successful conclusion of the story” cannot be “dependent upon human performance.”32 McDonald rightly sees that this ending “conveys the continued power and presence of God in human weakness, and therefore hope and expectation for the future.”33 Though these women appear to be more faithful and stronger than the men, watching at the cross and coming to tend his body, their nerve fails them in the end. Consequently, the divine promise is wreathed by human weakness. The reader, who knows that the promise was fulfilled, can only assume that it came to pass because God overruled human failure and disobedience.34 We thus learn that with God our failure is not fatal. But we cannot jump for joy and give one another high fives as members of winning sports teams do. We consistently fail. We must humbly and consistently turn to God for help and can give only God the glory when failure turns into victory by divine power.
The fulfillment of this promise to go to Galilee suggests to us that Jesus’ other promises will come true as well.
• John prophesied that the one coming after him would baptize with the Holy Spirit (1:8). Mark does not narrate the fulfillment of this prophecy, but the auditors know it has come true because they have experienced this baptism for themselves.
• Jesus promised Peter and Andrew that he would make them fishers of men (1:15).
• He promised Peter that those who have made sacrifices to follow him will receive a hundredfold more and in the age to come, eternal life (10:29–30).
• He promised James and John that they would be baptized with his baptism and would drink his cup (10:39).
• He promised that before the end comes, the gospel will be preached to all the nations (13:10).
• He promised that the woman’s extravagant anointing of him for his burial will be remembered wherever the gospel is preached in the whole world (14:9).
• He promised his disciples that some would not taste death before they saw the kingdom of God come with power (9:1).
• He assured his disciples that he will drink from the fruit of the vine anew in the kingdom of God (14:25).
• He promised the high priest and his council that they would see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven (14:62).
Because Jesus’ foreknowledge of what was to come has been proven, we can trust that what he says will come true despite human muddling and satanic opposition, not only in the lives of his first disciples, but also in the lives of persons today.
The last word, therefore, ultimately belongs to God, who will accomplish all things. Like the seed that grows, the farmer knows not how (4:27), Jesus’ promises will be fulfilled and we know not how. As Geddert states it well:
Whether Jesus is walking on water (6:49), or on the dusty road from Galilee to Jerusalem (10:32)—whether Jesus is sharing a loaf with twelve companions (14:22), or a lunch with five thousand (6:39–44)—whether he rises early to spend the morning in prayer (1:35), or to spend eternity as the resurrected Lord (16:1–8)—the kingdom is secretly advancing. We only know that their fulfillment depends upon God’s power, not on human capacity to carry out orders effectively. The hidden potency of God’s kingdom will burst forth in full proclamation.35
This truth puts in a new light the disciples’ failures in this Gospel to understand (6:52; 8:17–18), to exorcise demons (9:14–29), to stand with Jesus during the fiery test, and to herald the resurrection. Failure does not mean the end of discipleship or the defeat of God’s purposes. The words of Jesus will not fail, and his promise will overcome the disciples’ bungling and dereliction of duty.
Brown writes that Mark and his readers probably held Peter and his disciples as “saintly witnesses.” He goes on to say:
But Mark uses the Gospel to stress that such witness to Jesus did not come easily or under the disciples’ own impetus.… Mark is offering a pedagogy of hope based on the initial failure of the most famous followers of Jesus and a second chance for them. He may have in mind readers who failed initially or became discouraged by the thought of the cross. He is issuing parenetic warnings against the danger of being scandalized or falling away from faith and against overconfidence.36
Consequently, Mark presents no model disciples. All of Jesus’ followers, male and female, falter. Achtemeier observes:
If the disciples were unfaithful because they could not come to terms with Jesus’ death, the women proved unfaithful precisely because they had come to terms with it: it was the news that he was no longer dead that proved unsettling to them. They in their turn were unable to come to terms with his life.37
Discipleship is established by Jesus’ call and can only be sustained by God’s mercy and power alone. We can take comfort from this fact when we also fail in our commission, as we inevitably will. Everything depends on God, not us. When we do succeed, we can therefore only give credit to God.
(4) This ending fits the title of Mark’s Gospel: “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (1:1). The burial of Jesus and the news of his resurrection bring the narrative to a close, but the resurrection is not the end of the story, only the beginning. How does one end such a story? Juel comments that “just as the tomb will not contain Jesus, neither can Mark’s story.”38 The resurrection sets in motion a new story that is not yet finished or resolved. It will not be completed until the elect are gathered from the ends of the earth (13:27). What happens next, then, is up to us as believers.
We cannot allow the resurrection account to become a faded if cherished memory that is to be placed in a photo album and taken out once a year and admired. The ending forces us to enter the story. We are the next chapter. What would we have done if we were those first women let in on the tremendous news? The question then becomes not what will the women do—how long will they keep silent?—but what will we do now that we have been let in on the news? Will we flee in fear and become silent? Will the story die with us? Will we obediently follow Jesus to Galilee or try to hunker down in our safe cocoons?
The Gospel of Mark leaves us with unfinished business to preach the gospel to the ends of the earth. The ending (which is not an ending) becomes a never-ending story as the baton passes on to us to join in the race and spread the news. Mark’s stunning ending raises the question, Who will tell the story? His Gospel is the account of the beginning of the gospel; will we now join in its continuation?
Many will hear news during Easter Sunday worship that Jesus has been raised and will sing hymns praising God. All too many will then go home quietly to an Easter dinner and go back to the routines of their lives, largely unaffected by the news. They are neither filled with awe nor compelled to tell anyone about what they know. Will the story be told by anyone other than the Evangelist? What stops it from being told? We are no less susceptible to fear than the disciples when they were caught off guard by a violent posse in Gethsemane, than Peter when he was surrounded by a hostile crowd in enemy territory, than these women when they were confronted by this surprising news and told to go and tell in a death-filled world. Jesus goes on ahead, but we may remain frozen in our tracks, struck by a fear that makes us mute.
At the outset of God’s great work, humans frequently recoil in fear. The command, “Do not be afraid,” reverberates throughout Scripture. We must hear these words again and again because God is always doing what is unexpected and leading people where they may least want to go. Beginning from the time that God established a covenant with Abraham (Gen. 15:1), God has grand plans for Abraham’s seed. He tells Jacob not to be afraid to go down to Egypt (46:3); he has grand plans to make a great nation. God promises through Isaiah that the enemies will vanish: “Do not fear; I will help you” (Isa. 41:13); “Fear not, for I have redeemed you” (43:2).
Peter asks, “Who is going to harm you if you are eager to do good?” (1 Peter 3:13). The answer in the first century was, “Plenty.” Enemies were everywhere, and their threats naturally elicited fear and inhibited witness. The kinds of people who killed Jesus are still out there, ready to kill his followers. No one enjoys being hated or hunted down. It is safer to remain silent, to treasure all these things in our hearts (Luke 2:51) rather than to bare our hearts to others. One might understand why those facing the persecution might be reticent to speak, but what excuse do those have who enjoy all the comforts of life and freedom of worship?