Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Day 291. (New Testament Day 14) Mark 7-9
Having gotten all the conventional answers, Jesus asks the disciples, "But who do you say that I am?" And Peter answers him, "You are the Messiah" (8:29). In St. Mark's gospel, it is a moment of transformation for Peter. He is still only a partial disciple. He will go on to deny Jesus three times. But what happens to him at Caesarea Philippi is crucial, a giant step, even though it isn't until much later that he will have the courage to carry through on the confession he makes that day.
Jesus had already asked his disciples--Who do people say that I am? In Greek people is "hoi anthropoi," which means humankind or human beings, as opposed to God and his angels and the demons, who already know who Jesus is. Here "hoi anthropoi" means those outside the circle of the disciples, including Jesus' enemies—of which there were many. Who do others say that I am?
And how this question is answered, then as now, is conditioned by the cross. Jesus with the cross is our savior, our redeemer, our reconciler to God, to ourselves and to one another--the most important fact in creation. Jesus without the cross can be anything under the sun--a prophet, a teacher, a healer, a charlatan, a fraud, a self-deluded trouble-maker. Jesus without the cross can be either the conservative or the liberal ideologue—take your pick.
The answer to the question—Who is Jesus?--depends upon the hopes and fears of the time in which it is asked. In Jesus' lifetime that was certainly so. Apparently during his lifetime there was a rumor abroad that Jesus was John the Baptist resurrected—see Mark 6:14-15. Jesus wasn't. It was a widespread belief--based upon the Old Testament book of Malachi (4:5)—that the prophet Elijah would return before the coming of the Day of the Lord. It was a time of intense eschatological speculation—like our own, and some thought they recognized in Jesus Elijah's long anticipated return—see Mark 9:10-13. Other candidates, notably Moses, were also mentioned, but Jesus was not a dead prophet, no matter how great. What is remarkable is that in the midst of such a babel of supposition and conjecture, no one recognizes Jesus as who he really is—not until Peter's inspired guess. But the question—"Who do you say that I am?" –is addressed to us as much as to the disciples. The pronoun "you" makes that clear. What is important is not what others say, but what you and I say. Who is he to us personally? To those outside Jesus will always remain a mystery, an unknown, but is he known to us?
According to Mark, Simon Peter is the first human being to correctly—if incompletely—answer the question—Who is Jesus? He confesses Jesus as the long-expected deliverer of Israel, but his identity as "Son of God" remains hidden. Only his cross will reveal Jesus as crucified Messiah and present Lord of all. And then it is not a disciple—they have all high-tailed it by then—but a pagan centurion—speaking for Mark's gentile church--who makes the final, definitive profession of faith—see 15:39.
But once Peter openly identifies him as the Messiah, Jesus does a strange thing—to our thinking anyway—he "sternly orders [his disciples] not to tell anyone about him" (8:30). Notice that he does not deny that he is the Messiah; he simply endeavors to keep his true identity a secret. This reticence is typical of the Gospel of Mark, where Jesus is always portrayed as Man of Mystery. Earlier in the gospel, demons are forbidden to say that Jesus is the Messiah—see 1:23ff—now the disciples are told to say nothing. Why? Well in part the reason lies in the problematic nature of the title Anointed One. By Jesus' time the coming Messiah was closely connected with the hopes of certain groups of radical Jewish patriots—notably the Zealots—who had made the restoration of the royal house of David the cornerstone of their agenda. There was at least one Zealot among Jesus' disciples. But Jesus certainly wanted to disassociate himself with their terrorist tactics in particular and from Jewish dreams of national glory in general.
Instead Jesus defines messiahship in terms of the suffering servant described the prophet Isaiah (chapters 49-50). To be the Messiah means willing acceptance of the cross with all that it implies. This is the mystery Jesus seeks to share with his disciples (8:31), and through them with the Church. And the Church must follow the example of the Suffering Messiah. Peter tries to hush him (8:32), but Jesus turns and hushes him instead, not because Peter's insight into his messiahship is false, but because it is limited. Simon Peter is still a partial disciple who clings to the false hope of glory without the suffering of the cross.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Day 290 (New Testament Day 13) Mark 4-6
For the church to which the evangelist Mark is writing his gospel the world is a combat zone. Everywhere around them they could see evidence that God and Satan are locked in a struggle to the death. It is easy for us, in the midst of the confusion of our time, to identify with that feeling. Then as now, the Church—the people in the boat—is surrounded by chaos. The social order is disrupted and disorderly, even violent. Viciousness and criminality triumph over gentleness and virtue. The forces of nature are destructive and dangerous—droughts, famines, and earthquakes. The chaos outside is mirrored in the life of the Christian community. False leaders appear to lead the weak astray, and conflict arises within families because of the preaching of the Gospel. There are legal entanglements and persecutions to contend with. Demonic forces are hard at work everywhere, and there is uncertainty and fear in the community.
That is what the church of St. Mark was contending with. It is no wonder that the story of the stilling of the sea (4:35-41) resonated with them. They wanted and needed a man of power to save them, a hero, and they found him in Jesus, who "woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, 'Peace! Be still!' Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm" (4:39). The story proclaims the good news that Jesus has authority over the natural world of wind and waves, just as he demonstrates his power over the supernatural realm, the world of demons and evil spirits, in the story that follows--5:1-20.
It all happens in the evening and that is important for the meaning of the story. Evening is the time when the resurrected Lord appears to his disciples, and this is an Easter evening story. One evening on the Sea of Galilee the disciples are with Jesus in the boat. The boat is the most ancient symbol of the Church. The Church is the ark of salvation; like the ark of Noah, it is mankind's only source of life and salvation in a dangerous and potentially deadly world. Suddenly a storm breaks upon the tiny boat, and Jesus' disciples are terrified by the apocalyptic chaos that surrounds them.
But where is Jesus? The gospel writer tells us he is right there in the stern of boat, asleep on the cushion. He is apparently serene and untroubled by the violence of the storm; he is certain of his power to command—but the disciples aren't so sure. And in to those chaotic moments when our lives seem most out of control we are also tempted to wonder where the Lord is and whether he cares about our predicament. We mistake detachment for indifference.
So do the disciples. They wake Jesus with a rebuke about his lack of concern—"Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing." You see, they could be as passive-aggressive as we sometimes are. Mark is always at pains to place the first followers of Jesus in the most unflattering light possible. They are cowards. They are "perishers." They are not even sure what they expect him to do for them.
But the response Jesus makes is immediate and decisive—as it always is in Mark's gospel. He is never a perisher, like us. He commands the howling wind—"Peace! Be still!" Literally he says—"Be muzzled!" Or in even more vulgar language—"Shut up!" It is in exactly these words and with this tone that Jesus addresses demons—Mark 1:25. No nonsense. And sure enough the wind ceases, and there is a dead calm. A natural explanation is possible, of course; the storm may have just blown itself out. But that is not the point for Mark , for whom Jesus is the Man of Power, who has the authority to rebuke both demons and the demonic energies of the natural world.
He rebukes the cowardly disciples too. "Why are you afraid?" he wants to know. "Have you still no faith?" And we need to notice that fear is made the opposite of faith, not doubt, which is just its absence. When it comes to following Jesus, faith and courage are one and the same. The miracle of the stilling of the sea impresses the disciples, but it does not create faith in them. They are still "perishers." They are filled with "great awe," but they are not illuminated. At the end of the story they are left asking—"Who then is this, that even the winds obey him?" Miracles may produce the awestruck question—Who then is this?--but the disciples do not have the "Easter evening faith" necessary to frame the right answer—Jesus is the powerful Lord of the Church. But we do. The Holy Spirit, the presence of Jesus, provides that faith. We know that in the midst of the chaos of our lives the Lord is always in the boat with us, and not only "the wind and the sea," but all the powers that worry and harass us "obey him.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Day 289. (NT Day 12). Mark 1-3
"After John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, 'The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news'" (1:14-15).
In the Gospel of Mark everything happens suddenly. The gospel begins abruptly with the sudden appearance of John the Baptist. He comes out of nowhere, and then he is abruptly swept aside to make room for the one "more powerful" (1:7) than he. Then just as suddenly Jesus breaks upon Galilee like a storm, "proclaiming the Gospel"—for Mark the Gospel Jesus proclaims is Jesus himself.
The evangelist has traditionally been placed among the companions of St. Paul. We don't know if Mark actually traveled with Paul, but his point of view is certainly like that of the gentile churches Paul founded. The evangelists Matthew and Luke are more closely related to a Jewish obedience-centered religion. In their gospels Jesus comes to teach a new way of living, and he does this through teachings and parables. But Mark's gospel is a story of mighty actions. Jesus is the man of Power who comes to defeat the powers of evil and to proclaim that God is about to establish his Kingdom on earth. In Mark we listen in vain for the kind of ethical teaching we find in Matthew's Sermon on the Mount. What we do hear—and see--is Jesus "proclaiming the good news" with power and authority.
And what is the content of this good news? In Mark's gospel it is a message of destruction and renewal. The radical transformation of the present, corrupt era into a new and purified one is the theme of all the apocalyptic books of the Bible, books like Daniel and Revelation. Mark's gospel is apocalyptic; Jesus proclaims the good news that the old eon is about to end and another is about to begin.
In Mark's gospel the moment of Jesus' coming is the cusp of time; it is the moment when God lowers the curtain upon an epoch marked by strife and opposition, and clears the stage for a new age to begin. "The time is fulfilled; the kingdom of God has come near," Jesus says. God sends His Man into the world to effect this change; Jesus believes that his life and death are crucial for that change to take place. And when Jesus rises from the dead, the early church, of which Mark was a part, sees Jesus' proclamation validated, and interprets the resurrection as the beginning of the new eon, a time when old certainties are called into question and the established order is reversed, when the dead rise and anything can happen.
So in such a world what should our lives be like? "Repent, and believe the good news," Jesus replies. Repentance is not a very important theme in the rest of Mark's gospel. As in Paul's gentile churches his emphasis is not on what we do, but on what God has done. For Paul and Mark, Jesus Christ is God's rescue act, redeeming a helpless and lost humanity from its slavery to the power of death. Repentance implies a real freedom on the part of human beings, but the Gospel of Mark focuses not on human freedom but upon the powerful Son of God who conquers the enemy we could never overcome. As it is expressed in the words of a Sunday school hymn—"we are weak but he is strong." Repentance lies beyond our powers, but the second half of Jesus' command, "believe the Gospel," is closer to the heart of Mark's message. Jesus is the Gospel; to be a Christian is to believe the story of God's rescue, and to respond in faith by becoming his disciple.
And that is exactly what happens next in Mark; Jesus calls his first disciples. This is not just an account of the call of the Galilee fishermen. It is also an ideal picture of what our response should be to the preaching of the Gospel. When Jesus calls us we should drop everything else and follow. The imminent coming of God's kingdom demands an immediate response. So Mark tells the story of the calling of the disciples twice, as if for emphasis, and both times their response to the call is immediate. And this sets up a pattern in Mark of immediate responses. The word "immediately" is used by the evangelist again and again to stress that the only appropriate response to the Gospel is an instantaneous one.
And that wonderful summons Jesus gives them—"Follow me and I will make you fish for people"—is the key to everything. These words come to us directly from the mouth of Jesus, remembered by the disciples to whom they were spoken. They are both a call to labor in the Kingdom and an assurance of the powerful Son of God that he will share his strength and courage with those who share his mission. It was a promise he kept to those Galilee fisherman, and keeps to us.
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