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Adam Winn
The Purpose of Mark’s Gospel An Early Christian Response to Roman Imperial Propaganda
Mohr Siebeck
Adam Winn, born 1976; 2007 PhD in New Testament Studies from Fuller Theological Seminary; since 2005 teaching courses in Biblical Studies at Fuller Seminary and Azusa Pacific University.
e-ISBN PDF 978-3-16-151588-0 ISBN 978-3-16-149635-6 ISSN 0340-9570 (Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament, 2. Reihe) The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliographie; detailed bibliographic data is available in the Internet at http://dnb.d-nb.de. © 2008 by Mohr Siebeck, Tübingen, Germany. This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, in any form (beyond that permitted by copyright law) without the publisher’s written permission. This applies particularly to reproductions, translations, microfilms and storage and processing in electronic systems. The book was printed by Laupp & Göbel in Nehren on non-aging paper and bound by Buchbinderei Nädele in Nehren. Printed in Germany.
For Molly
Acknowledgments The seminal ideas for this project grew out of a master’s level course I took on the New Testament gospels from Craig A. Evans in the summer of 2001. Evans’ suggestion that many details in Mark’s gospel strongly parallel the Roman imperial cult intrigued me and led me to explore the topic further when I became PhD candidate at Fuller Theological Seminary in the fall of 2002. Through my own research and ongoing conversations with Evans, a dissertation topic emerged – reading Mark’s gospel as a response to Roman imperial propaganda. The subsequent dissertation was accepted by the faculty of the School of Theology at Fuller Seminary in June of 2007. The present project is a moderately revised version of that dissertation. Like all projects of this nature, it results from the labor of not one individual but many. Here I would like to give these individuals the recognition and thanks that they deserve. First, I must thank my mentor Ralph Martin for his faithful oversight of this project while it was being prepared as a dissertation. His mastery of the secondary literature has frequently led me to sources I had never considered (nor knew existed!), and his vast knowledge of the eld of New Testament studies has protected my many blind spots. I am forever thankful for his guidance and support during the past six years. I would also like to express thanks to the members of my dissertation committee. My second reader, Donald Hagner, provided me with invaluable constructive criticism that resulted in a much improved manuscript. I also thank him for his refreshing sense of humor and his regular willingness to talk about baseball – two things that often provided a necessary respite from the rigors of academic research. I thank Craig A. Evans for his careful reading and critique of this project as a dissertation and his advocacy in recommending it for publication. As noted above, the seminal ideas for this project came out of a master’s level course I took with Dr. Evans seven years ago, and in response to his encouragement, I pursued these ideas as a dissertation topic. For his inuence and encouragement, I am also thankful. I also would like to express thanks to the entire New Testament faculty at Fuller Theological Seminary. In particular, I would like to thank David Scholer, whose support and encouragement over the past six years has been unfailing. He has modeled for me what it means to be both a teacher and scholar of the New Testament. I also would like to thank Marianne Meye Thompson,
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who has regularly (and selessly) devoted herself to my academic and professional success. I must also thank those who worked faithfully in editing this project for its submission as a dissertation. My mother-in-law Syl Field and her co-worker Clair Bruggeman edited the original draft of every chapter. Their careful eyes rid each chapter of its many typographical and grammatical errors and made signicant stylistic improvements to my often philistine prose. For their selfless service, I am deeply thankful. My professional editor (and friend) Krystin Mast worked tirelessly to prepare my unpolished manuscript for formal submission, catching missed typographical and grammatical errors and making sure the manuscript met all the necessary formatting and style guidelines (a tedious process indeed!). For her great effort, I am truly thankful. My typesetter, Robin Black of Blackbird Creative worked with me to transform a dissertation into a manuscript ready for publication. She worked patiently with me through the rst-time task of typesetting this manuscript. For her hard work and professional excellence, I am grateful. For any errors in the text that still remain, I am fully responsible. I also would like to recognize the people at Mohr Siebeck Publishing House for not only giving this manuscript the opportunity to be published but also for their excellence and competence in guiding me through the process of preparing the manuscript for publication. I would like to offer special thanks to Henning Ziebritzki and Jörg Frey for accepting this manuscript for publication in the WUNT II series. I would also like to thank Matthias Spitzner for guidance on specic issues regarding formatting and style. It has truly been a pleasure working with the people of Mohr Siebeck. Making it through this long and difcult process would not have been possible without the help of both family and friends. I thank both the Warehouse community and the Homebuilders class at Lake Avenue Church for their constant prayer and support. I thank those in my small group Bible study who have endured the ups and downs of this process with me and who have offered their prayers and encouragement along the way. I thank my fellow colleagues at Fuller Seminary and Azusa Pacic University who have sympathetically walked through this process with me. I thank the Fuller Five for their friendship and inspiration. I thank my in-laws, Syl and Stephen Field, who have supported my wife and me throughout this process in every possible way. I thank my older sister Hillory and my younger brother Abel, along with their families, for their friendship and love throughout this process. I thank the Moreno Valley clan, who for the past seven years has offered my wife and me a home away from home. And to all the friends and family that cannot be named but who have loved and supported me through this process, I thank you. I would like to offer special thanks to my father and mother, Doug and Kemi Winn, without whom this project, at best, would have been a dream.
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The desire to pursue scholarship in the eld of New Testament studies grew out of a love for the Bible that my parents instilled in me at a very young age. The means to accomplish this project were provided by their hard work and sacrice. And the strength to nish it came largely from their faithful prayers, love, and encouragement. They have given me more than I could ever repay and to them I am forever thankful. Dad and mom, I love you dearly! And now, I give thanks to the person who deserves it more than any other, my wife and the love of my life Molly. The publication of this project (and the dissertation that it began as) is as much her success as it is mine. She has faithfully stood beside me throughout this process, and did so at her own great personal sacrice. For the last seven years, she has worked tirelessly in jobs that often left her weary, unsatised, and unappreciated all for the sake of supporting our family and my dream. Yet despite the difculty of the road, she has continually supported, loved, and encouraged me along the way. She has always believed in me and in my success and that has meant more to me than she could ever know. Molly, I love you and am forever thankful for your seless sacrice. I look forward to this next chapter in our lives and to raising our precious Brennan together! Finally, and most importantly, I thank the God and Father of my Lord Jesus Christ. All that it took to complete this project – the support of family and friends, a mind to read, think and write, instructors to guide and direct, the nances to pay for tuition – is a gift from the hand of my heavenly Father. For the success of this project’s completion and for any future success that it might experience, to God be all the glory and honor and praise amen! Pasadena, April 2008 Adam D. Winn
Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament · 2. Reihe Herausgeber / Editor Jörg Frey (München) Mitherausgeber / Associate Editors Friedrich Avemarie (Marburg) Judith Gundry-Volf (New Haven, CT) Hans-Josef Klauck (Chicago, IL)
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Contents Acknowledgments .....................................................................................VII Preliminary Remarks and Abbreviations ................................................. XV
Introduction............................................................................................... 1 1 2 3 4
Purpose of the Present Study ................................................................... 1 Method of the Present Study .................................................................... 2 Outline of the Present Study .................................................................... 2 Preliminary Considerations for the Present Study ................................... 3
Chapter 1. Surveying the Purpose of Mark’s Gospel in the History of New Testament Scholarship .................................. 5 1.1 Introduction ........................................................................................... 5 1.2 Historical Purpose .................................................................................. 5 1.2.1 From Pre-modern Times to Present Day ...................................... 5 1.2.2 Evaluation of a Historical Purpose ............................................... 7 1.3 Theological Purpose .............................................................................. 9 1.3.1 Christology ................................................................................... 9 The Messianic Secret .................................................................... 9 Corrective Christology ............................................................... 12 Christological Purpose ............................................................... 18 1.3.2 Eschatology ................................................................................ 19 Willi Marxsen ............................................................................ 20 Werner Kelber ............................................................................ 22 1.4 Pastoral Purpose .................................................................................. 24 1.5 Evangelistic Purpose: Robert H. Gundry ............................................. 28 1.6 Socio-Political Purpose ........................................................................ 31 1.6.1 Defensive Purpose ...................................................................... 31 S. G. F. Brandon ......................................................................... 31 H. N. Roskam ............................................................................. 33 1.6.2 Subversive Purpose: Richard Horsley ......................................... 35 1.7 Conclusions .......................................................................................... 41
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Chapter 2. Mark’s Date and Provenance ....................................... 43 2.1 Introduction ......................................................................................... 43 2.2 Dating Mark’s Gospel .......................................................................... 43 2.2.1 An Early Date for Mark (Pre-65 C.E.): The External Evidence ......44 2.2.2 An Early Date for Mark (Pre-65 C.E.): The Internal Evidence ....... 51 2.2.3 Mark’s Relationship to the Temple’s Destruction: A Pre- or Post-70 Dating? ........................................................................... 56 The Criterion of Specicity ........................................................ 58 The Criterion of Reasonableness ................................................ 59 The Criterion of Similarity ......................................................... 60 The Criterion of Motivation ........................................................ 61 The Criterion of Risk-Reward .................................................... 65 Conclusions to be Drawn from the Criteria ................................ 67 2.2.4 Reading Mark 13 in Light of a Post 70 Date of Composition ...... 68 2.2.5 Conclusions concerning Mark’s Date of Composition ................ 76 2.3 Mark’s Provenance .............................................................................. 76 2.3.1 Rome: The External Evidence .................................................... 77 2.3.2 Rome: The Internal Evidence ..................................................... 80 2.3.3 Galilee ........................................................................................ 83 2.3.4 Syria ........................................................................................... 87 2.3.5 Conclusions concerning Mark’s Provenance .............................. 91
Chapter 3. Analysis of Mark’s Major Features .............................. 92 3.1 Introduction ......................................................................................... 92 3.2 Markan Incipit ..................................................................................... 92 3.3 Markan Christology ............................................................................. 99 3.3.1 Christological Identity .............................................................. 100 Messiah .................................................................................... 100 Son of God ............................................................................... 100 Son of Man ............................................................................... 102 3.3.2 Christological Presentation ....................................................... 108 Prologue 1:1-13 (14-15) ............................................................. 109 Galilean Ministry ......................................................................111 Caesarea Philippi .......................................................................115 Jerusalem Ministry ....................................................................121 Passion Narrative ...................................................................... 127 Conclusions ...............................................................................135 3.3.3 Christological Secrecy .............................................................. 136 Identifying Mark’s Secrecy Motif ............................................. 136 Characterizing Mark’s Secrecy Motif ........................................137
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3.3.4 Christological Conclusions ........................................................139 3.4 Markan Discipleship ...........................................................................139 3.4.1 The Twelve Disciples as Models of Discipleship ...................... 140 3.4.2 Minor Characters as Models of Discipleship ............................ 146 3.4.3 Jesus’ Teaching on Discipleship ................................................147 3.4.4 Conclusions concerning Discipleship ....................................... 150 3.5 Markan Eschatology .......................................................................... 150
Chapter 4. Reconstructing Mark’s Historical Situation ..............153 4.1 Introduction ........................................................................................153 4.2 Reconstructing the Historical Situation of Mark’s Readers ................153 4.2.1 The Emperor Vespasian .............................................................153 Vespasian’s Rise to Power ........................................................ 154 Vespasian’s Problems and Propaganda ......................................157 Vespasian’s Triumph ................................................................. 164 Vespasian, the Second Augustus ...............................................165 The Impact of Flavian Propaganda on the Church in Rome .......167 4.2.2 The Aftermath of the Jewish Revolt and Its Impact on the Church in Rome..........................................................................170 Eschatological Anxiety? ............................................................170 Fear of Persecution? ...................................................................171 4.2.3 Conclusions concerning Mark’s Historical Situation .................173 4.3 Comparing a Reconstructed Historical Situation with Indicators of Mark’s Sitz im Leben .....................................................173 4.3.1 Imperial Cult Intertwined Messianic Hope ...............................173 4.3.2 False Prophets and Messianic Claimants ...................................174 4.3.3 Christology of Power .................................................................174 4.3.4 Persecuted Community ..............................................................175 4.3.5 Wavering Disciples ....................................................................176 4.3.6 Eschatological Confusion ..........................................................176 4.3.7 Summarizing Comparisons .......................................................177
Chapter 5. Reading Mark’s Major Features in Light of Mark’s Historical Situation .............................................................................178 5.1 Introduction ........................................................................................178 5.2 Reading Mark’s Incipit in Light of Mark’s Historical Situation ..........178 5.3 Reading Mark’s Christology in Light of Mark’s Historical Situation ... 180 5.3.1 Jesus’ Impressive Résumé: Christological Identity ....................180 Excursus: Mark’s use of “Son of God” in light of a polemic against Vespasian ......................................................................182 5.3.2 Jesus’ Impressive Résumé: Christological Presentation .............183
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Powerful Exorcist ......................................................................183 Powerful Healer ........................................................................ 184 Power over Nature .....................................................................185 Powerful Prophet .......................................................................186 Powerful Benefactor ..................................................................188 Imperial Modesty ..................................................................... 190 Weakness as Strength ............................................................... 192 5.4 Reading Mark’s Presentation of Discipleship in Light of Mark’s Historical Situation ............................................................................ 194 5.4.1 Mark’s Primary Features of Discipleship ................................. 194 5.4.2 Mark’s Secondary Features of Discipleship .............................. 196 5.5 Reading Markan Eschatology in Light of Mark’s Historical Situation ............................................................................ 198 5.6 Summary: Formulating a Statement on the Purpose of Mark’s Gospel ................................................................................... 199
Summary of Conclusions .................................................................. 202 Bibliography ............................................................................................ 205 Index of Ancient Sources.......................................................................... 223 Index of Modern Authors ..........................................................................231 Index of Subjects ...................................................................................... 235
Preliminary Remarks and Abbreviations All citations from the Old and New Testament come from New Revised Standard Version unless otherwise noted. Any Greek texts from the New Testament are taken from the Nestle-Aland 27th edition. Greek and Latin texts from ancient authors are taken from the Loeb Classical Library unless otherwise noted. Unfortunately, this manuscript was completed prior to the publication of Adela Yarbro-Collins’ recent commentary on the Gospel of Mark (Mark: A Commentary. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2007) and was therefore unable to interact with it. The reader is encouraged to consult this work and to compare its conclusions with those found in the present study. In general, the abbreviations used in this book follow those provided in The SBL Handbook of Style (ed. P. H. Alexander et al., 2003). These abbreviations include those for academic journals, commentary and monograph series, biblical books and other ancient literature. However, there are a number of abbreviations included in this book that cannot be found in The SBL Handbook of Style and these abbreviations are provided below.
AJAH CJ CQ HSCP JRS PMAAR PBA RFIC RM ZPE
American Journal of Ancient History Classical Journal Classical Quarterly Harvard Studies in Classical Philology Journal of Roman Studies Papers and Monographs of the American Academy in Rome Proceedings of the British Academy Rivista di lologia e d’instruzione classica Rheinisches Museum für Philologie Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigrak
Introduction
1 Purpose of the Present Study The theory of Markan priority is one of the few that has reached a high level of consensus among New Testament interpreters (though a handful of detractors still persists).1 Not only do most interpreters agree that Mark’s gospel was written before the other canonical gospels, most also agree that it is the rst written narrative account of Jesus’ life.2 While it is possible that a sayings source existed before the composition of Mark’s gospel, such a source would have lacked Mark’s narrative dimension. Given this unique distinction of Mark’s work, the question of why the gospel was composed naturally arises. What realities moved the evangelist to provide a written account of Jesus’ life? Perhaps more importantly, how does the evangelist’s presentation of Jesus’ life address or negotiate these realties? Many interpreters have offered answers to these questions regarding the second evangelist’s purpose for composing a gospel.3 Nevertheless a consensus has remained elusive. Certainly the great body of work that has been devoted to the question of the second gospel’s purpose was not fruitless; in fact, it has made signicant progress toward answering it. But as our survey of the search for a Markan purpose will demonstrate, a comprehensive and convincing answer to this question has yet to be found. Therefore, our present purpose is to enter this 1 Since the year 2000, at least eight signicant critical commentaries on Mark’s gospel have been published. All eight assume Markan priority as a starting point for interpreting the gospel. For examples of scholars who reject Markan priority, see C. S. Mann, Mark: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 27; New York: Doubleday, 1986); W. R. Farmer, The Synoptic Problem (New York: Macmillan, 1964); Philip L. Shuler, “The Genre of the Gospels and the Two Gospel Hypothesis,” in Jesus the Gospel’s and the Church to Jesus, the Gospels, and the Church: Essays in Honor of William Farmer (ed. E. P. Sanders; Macon: Mercer University Press, 1987), 69 – 88; et al. 2 Throughout this study, we will often refer to the author of the second gospel as Mark. However, this name is only used for the sake of simplicity and implies nothing about the author’s identity. 3 While we afrm Markan priority, in deference to the canonical order, we will refer to Mark as the second gospel.
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ongoing discussion with the hope of providing a plausible theory that might account for the second gospel’s origin and purpose.
2 Method of the Present Study This study will combine two methodologies. The rst is the traditional historical-critical method, the application of which will lead us to a better understanding of the Markan text – in particular its major features (Christology, discipleship, and eschatology), the distinctive features of its Sitz im Leben, its date of composition, and its provenance. Because of the many negative connotations that have surrounded this method in recent years, we offer a brief word regarding our understanding and application of it. We understand the term historical-critical method in an inclusive rather than exclusive sense; that is to say that properly applied, the historical-critical method must embrace and make use of more recent interpretive methods (e.g., social scientic criticism, rhetorical criticism, and narrative criticism). Through the use of the historical-critical method, we seek to understand the Markan text in light of its many contexts (e.g., historical, social, political, literary, narrative, grammatical, theological, etc.). We must recognize that the nature of our present question – the original purpose of Mark’s gospel – limits the scope of our investigation to the realties of the original author and the original readers. Therefore, methods that focus on contemporary readers or the reader as an abstract idea are not employed in the present study. The absence of these methods should not be seen as a rejection of their value for biblical interpretation, but rather as recognition of their limited value in answering the question before us. The second method we will employ is that of comparative-historical analysis. Based on the results of our investigation into Mark’s date of composition and provenance, we will seek to reconstruct a historical setting in which the second evangelist and his readers might have found themselves. This proposed historical setting will then be compared to our conclusions regarding Mark’s Sitz im Leben and major features, with the hope that such a comparison will yield plausible conclusions regarding the purpose of Mark’s gospel.
3 Outline of the Present Study Our rst chapter will survey the numerous theories that interpreters have put forth regarding the purpose of Mark’s gospel. It will evaluate the strengths and weaknesses of these theories and will attempt to establish a number of trajectories for our present study. Our second chapter will address the questions of Mark’s provenance and date of composition, with attention given to both external and internal evidence. Our third chapter will examine the major
1 Introduction
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features of Mark’s gospel, i.e., Mark’s incipit, Christology, presentation of discipleship, and eschatology. Our purpose in this chapter will be twofold: (1) to characterize accurately these major Markan features and (2) to identify indicators of Mark’s Sitz im Leben. Our fourth chapter will reconstruct the historical situation in which Mark and his original readers nd themselves. This reconstruction will depend on the results of chapter two – namely the conclusions drawn regarding when and where Mark’s gospel was written. Our historical reconstruction of Mark’s setting will then be compared with the indicators of Mark’s Sitz im Leben that we identied in chapter three. Continuity between our historical reconstruction and the indicators of Mark’s Sitz im Leben will conrm the historical reconstruction’s plausibility. Our fth chapter will read Mark’s major features – according to the results of chapter three – in light of our proposed setting for Mark and his readers. Through such a reading, the primary purpose – and perhaps one or two secondary purposes – for Mark’s gospel should emerge.
4 Preliminary Considerations for the Present Study 4.1 Author/Audience As the subject matter of this study implies, we assume that Mark’s gospel was written by a purposeful author (Hochliteratur) and not by a group of compilers (Kleinliteratur). We also assume that this author, like all authors, was inuenced by his own historical situation and that of his intended audience. Therefore, we conclude that the gospel itself provides us – though perhaps only indirectly – a window into the historical situation of its author and its original readers. We also assume that the author composed his gospel, at least to some degree, in order to speak to the historical situation of a particular audience or community – one that he was either close to or a part of. This last assumption has been challenged by Richard Bauckham (among others) in a collection of essays entitled The Gospel for All Christians: Rethinking Gospel Audiences.4 Bauckham argues that rather than being written for a particular community, the New Testament gospels were written for a broad audience, i.e., any Christian throughout the Roman Empire. While many of the arguments of Bauckham may have merit, it seems that Bauckham is creating an unnecessary dichotomy – namely that gospels were either written for a narrow audience or a broad audience. However, we must consider the possibility that an evangelist could have composed a gospel with one eye on his particular community and one on the church empire-wide. A gospel tailored to 4
In particular see Bauckham’s introduction and article, “For Whom Were Gospels Written,” in The Gospel for All Christians: Rethinking the Gospel Audiences (ed. Richard Bauckham; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 1–48.
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speak to the needs of a particular community is not precluded from speaking to a broader audience, especially if that broader audience might be facing or might soon face challenges similar to those of the evangelist’s particular community. While we cannot give a proper critique of Bauckham’s position here, we will proceed under the assumption that the author of Mark composed his gospel, at least in part, to address the situation of a particular audience. 4.2 Genre There seems to be a growing consensus among New Testament interpreters that the New Testament gospels are best identied as Greco-Roman biographies. Our present study will proceed under the notion that this conclusion is correct. Though we cannot discuss the merits of this conclusion at this time, we may appeal to Richard Burridge’s compelling work on the subject, What Are the Gospels? A Comparison with Graeco-Roman Biography.5 We must note that while our present study will assume Mark’s gospel to be a GrecoRoman biography, this assumption has little direct effect on our conclusions regarding the gospel’s purpose.6 Because of the wide range of purposes such ancient biographies could serve (e.g., polemical, apologetic, ethical, panegyrical, philosophical), identifying the gospel’s genre brings us no closer to understanding the evangelist’s purpose for writing. However, our identication of Mark as a Greco-Roman biography may inform our exegesis of the Markan text, and thus indirectly affect our conclusions. 4.3 Markan Redaction Because of our ignorance concerning Markan sources, this study will primarily focus on the nished form of Mark’s gospel and will be extremely conservative in its use of redaction criticism.7 Redaction criticism will only be used in cases where Markan redaction is relatively certain. Even in such cases, the results of redaction criticism will only be used as supporting rather than primary evidence.
5 Richard Burridge, What Are the Gospels? A Comparison with Graeco-Roman Biography (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004). 6 For a thorough discussion on Mark as a Greco-Roman biography, see Ben Witherington, The Gospel of Mark: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 1–9. 7 For discussion on the problems of using redaction criticism in Markan interpretation, see C. Clifton Black, “The Quest of the Markan Redactor: Why Has It Been Pursued and What Has It Taught Us?” JSNT 33 (1988): 19–39; idem, The Disciples according to Mark: Markan Redaction in Current Debate (JSNTSup; Shefeld: Shefeld Academic Press, 1989).
Chapter 1
Surveying the Purpose of Mark’s Gospel in the History of New Testament Scholarship 1.1 Introduction For the sake of clarity, our survey will arrange the various theories of a Markan purpose topically with each attempt falling into one of the following categories: historical, theological, pastoral, evangelical, or socio-political. The discussion of each category will focus on one or two theories that are of the greatest signicance and/or that function as representative of other similar theories. We must note that these categories serve to facilitate discussion, and some theories might partially overlap with more than one category. At the point of evaluation, we will make a specic critique of the exemplary interpretations and a general critique of the category as a whole. Some of these critiques will establish trajectories that will continue throughout our present study.
1.2 Historical Purpose For the rst nineteen hundred years of biblical interpretation, the question of Mark’s purpose for writing was largely ignored. It was assumed by most interpreters that Mark’s purpose was to record the historical events of Jesus’ life. Here we will examine the history of this position and evaluate it in light of modern critical scholarship. 1.2.1 From Pre-modern Times to the Present Day Pre-modern interpretation of Mark’s purpose for writing was largely inuenced by statements accorded to the Bishop of Hierapolis, Papias (c. 110 C.E.), as recorded by Eusebius: And the Presbyter used to say this, “Mark became Peter’s interpreter and wrote accurately all that he remembered, not, indeed, in order, of the things said or done by the Lord. For he had not heard the Lord, nor, had he followed him, but later on, as I said, followed Peter, who used to give teaching as necessity demanded but not making, as it were an arrangement of
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the Lord’s oracles, so that Mark did nothing wrong in thus writing down single points as he remembered them. For to one thing he gave his attention, to leave out nothing of what he had heard and to make no false statements in them.” (Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.39.15, Lake, LCL)1
Throughout pre-modern times this tradition, along with several others that echoed similar sentiments, was accepted by the church and by interpreters of Mark.2 That is, most assumed that Mark was the interpreter of Peter who recorded events about the life of Jesus, leaving out “nothing from what he heard” and making “no false statements.” However, as a historical account of Jesus’ life, Mark was considered inferior to the other gospels of Matthew, Luke, and John. Matthew and Luke included much of Mark but contained a great deal of new material as well. Mark was also not the direct work of an apostle (though Peter’s authority was believed to lay behind it). Because of these reasons, Mark was regularly neglected at the expense of the other three gospels, though its historical purpose was not doubted. It was not until the establishment of Markan priority in the 19th century that Mark was given its due as a gospel of great importance. Because Mark was considered the earliest gospel and the primary source for both Matthew and Luke, it quickly became accepted as the most historically accurate of the three. Most interpreters afrmed that Mark wrote primarily to preserve the historical traditions about Jesus for the church. They saw Mark as a historically reliable source, with many using it to reconstruct the life of Jesus.3 This historical understanding of Mark’s purpose held sway until the publication of William Wrede’s, The Messianic Secret.4 Wrede noted numerous elements within Mark’s gospel that seemed to argue against a historical 1 Here the accuracy of the claims regarding authorship, relationship to Peter, the date, and the location of the gospel will not be addressed. Discussion of these issues will follow in the next chapter, which addresses Mark’s provenance and date of composition. 2 Testimonies bearing similar sentiments include the testimony of Irenaeus in Adv. Haer. 3.1.1, the so-called “anti-Marcionite” Prologue, and Clement of Alexandria (cited in Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 6.14.6). The assumption made in most of these testimonies is that Mark recorded the eyewitness testimony of the great Apostle Peter, which would be considered historically accurate. 3 Bernard Weiss, Das Leben Jesu (2 vols; 4th ed.; Stuttgart: J. G. Cotta, 1902); Christian Gottlob Wilke, Der Urevangelist, oder exegetisch kritische Untersuchung über das Verwandtschaftsverhältniss der drei ersten Evangelien (Dresden: G. Fleischer, 1838); Christian Hermann Weisse, Die evangelische Geschichte kritisch und philosophisch bearbeitet (2 vols; Leipzig: Breitkopf and Härtel, 1938); Heinrich Holtzmann, Die synoptischen Evangelien: Ihr Ursprung und geschichtlicher Charakter (Leipzig: Wilhelm Engelmann, 1863); Albrecht Ritschl, “Über den gegenwärtigen Stand der Kritik der synoptischen Evangelien” in Gesammelte Aufsätze (Freiburg: J. C. B. Mohr, 1893), 1–51; Ernest Renan, Life of Jesus (trans. of 23rd French ed.; Boston: Little, Brown, 1924) 19–20. 4 William Wrede, Das Messiasgeheimnis in den Evangelien: Zugleich ein Beitrag zum Verständnis des Markusevangeliums (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1901); E. T. The Messianic Secret (trans. J. C. G. Greig; Cambridge: James Clark & Co., 1971).
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purpose, and rather for a theological one. Though Wrede’s proposal met with great resistance at the time, it had a lasting impact on Markan scholarship and on the question of Mark’s purpose. For the most part, scholars eventually abandoned the traditional position that Mark was written for a historical purpose. However, over the last fty years, the historical purpose of Mark has maintained a small number of supporters. Vincent Taylor’s classic commentary supports a historical purpose for Mark, as does the work of a handful of other interpreters.5 1.2.2 Evaluation of a Historical Purpose By arguing that Mark was written for a historical purpose, those interpreters were saying that Mark intends to present Jesus’ life as it actually was.6 Writing with a historical purpose assumes that the author is interested in presenting causality between events, how event “A” led to event “B.” It also assumes that the details of an event are consistent with reality and not contradictory or inconsistent. However, the realities we nd in Mark are not consistent with these historical aims. As noted above, William Wrede was one of the rst interpreters to challenge the historical purpose of Mark. Wrede’s primary charge is that the gospel is full of details that are inconsistent with its own narrative reality, making historical claims implausible.7 He notes a number of incidents where Jesus commands silence in order to keep an event secret. However, often the secrecy of the event is impossible to keep, making the command for silence inconsistent with reality. A perfect example of this is the healing of Jairus’ 5 Vincent Taylor, The Gospel According to St. Mark (London: MacMillan & Co., 1952), 131–132; Dom Bernard Orchard, “Mark and the Fusion of Traditions” in The Four Gospels FS F. Neirynck (ed. F. Van Segbroeck, et al; BETL 100B; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1992), 2:779–800; Martin Hengel, “Entstehungszeit und Situation des Markusevangeliums” in Markus-Philologie: Historische, literargeschichtliche und stilistische Untersuchungen zum zweiten Evangelium (ed. H. Cancik; WUNT 33; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1984), 1–45; idem, Studies in the Gospel of Mark (trans. J. Bowden; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985), esp. 1–30; idem, The Four Gospels and the One Gospel of Jesus Christ: An Investigation of the Collection and Origin of the Canonical Gospels (trans. John Bowden; Harrisburg: Trinity Press, 2000), 78–96. Hengel argues strongly that the authority of Peter lies behind the text and that the text reects authentic historical tradition. However, Hengel sees the text as a combination of historical narration and proclamation, a proclamation which reects a distance between the writer’s own time and the historical event. Hengel claims that Mark is not simply a historical report, but that it is colored by other agendas. It seems, however, that he views Mark’s purpose for writing primarily as passing on historical tradition, colored as it may be. 6 Questioning the historical purpose of Mark is not the same as questioning the historicity of events recorded in Mark. These are two separate issues. Mark could write with a theological purpose and still use historical traditions to achieve this purpose. 7 Wrede, Messianic Secret, 48–53.
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daughter (5:21–43).8 Jesus is brought to the home of Jairus for the purpose of healing his daughter who is close to death. On the way, news comes that she is already dead. Jesus goes to the girl anyway and, after forcing everyone but Peter, James, John and the girl’s parents outside of the room, he brings the girl back to life. Jesus then strictly forbids those present to speak of what has happened. However, such a secret cannot be kept. Certainly the crowd will be aware of Jesus’ miracle as soon as the girl, who was presumed to be dead, steps out of the room. Why then would Jesus command silence, when secrecy is impossible? The impractical nature of this command for silence undermines the conclusion that it is a historical recollection. Wrede argues that the command is part of a theological motif and that Mark is writing with a theological purpose.9 Wrede notes that Mark’s presentation of the disciples is also historically implausible.10 Again and again the disciples are portrayed as lacking understanding concerning both Jesus’ identity and his mission, even though Jesus claims that they have been given “the secrets of the kingdom” (4:11). Despite witnessing Jesus’ many mighty deeds, the disciples remain confused and bafed when Jesus again performs a mighty act (6:50–52). Wrede argues that this presentation of the disciples can hardly be understood as historical and is better understood as revealing a theological motif concerning human blindness to Jesus’ identity. Even more telling than Wrede’s observations is the way in which the Markan episodes are linked together. The links and seams that connect Markan episodes reect very little interest in chronology or causality.11 Mark’s pericopes easily stand on their own and are only linked together by generic seams, e.g., “As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee” (1:16), “When he returned to Capernaum after some days” (2:1), “Jesus went out beside the sea” (2:13), “Jesus departed with his disciples to the sea” (3:7), “Again he began to teach beside the sea” (4:1), “In those days when there was a great crowd” (8:1).12 Rather than grouping material in a causal manner, Mark groups his material topically or thematically. There are groupings of miracle stories (1:21 – 2:12; 4:35 – 5:43; 6:31–52; 7:24 – 8:10), parables (4:1–31), sayings (3:22–30; 8:34 – 9:1; 9:33–50; 10:2–45), conict stories (2:1 – 3:6; 7:1–23; 11:27 – 12:40), and apocalyptic material (13). Mark’s apparent lack of interest in causality is a strong indicator that he does not write with history as his primary purpose. 8
Wrede, Messianic Secret, 50–51. Wrede, Messianic Secret, 67–81; For other similar examples, see Mark 3:7–12; 7:31–37; 8:22–26. 10 Wrede, Messianic Secret, 101–114. 11 The one exception to this observation is the Markan passion narrative in which causality seems to become more important to the evangelist. 12 See K. L. Schmidt, Der Rahmen der Geschichte Jesu (Berlin: Trowitzsch und Sohn, 1919). 9
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Another important consideration is that Mark is not writing as an impassive or impersonal historian who has little concern for his subject matter beyond the basic facts. Rather, Mark is a rst-century Christian with a theological perspective concerning both the person and the work of Jesus. He is also the member of a Christian community that likely is experiencing a wide variety of growing pains as a result of the social and political realties around them. Most interpreters recognize that all these factors inuenced Mark’s gospel to some degree. Therefore, even though Mark likely records some history (the degree to which is certainly debated), it is a history that has been colored by factors of a non-historical nature. Mark’s purpose for writing is therefore best located in these non-historical factors. The days of understanding Mark’s purpose as primarily historical have long past. Wrede’s work forever weaned Markan interpreters from the traditional consensus that Mark wrote with a historical purpose. In order to nd a new explanation for the writing of the second gospel, we will investigate the many different purposes interpreters have since suggested.
1.3 Theological Purpose Since Wrede, most interpreters have suggested Mark’s purpose is theological. But while many agree that Mark wrote with a theological purpose, few agree as to what that purpose was specically. Here we will examine signicant theological proposals under two different categories: Christological and Eschatological. 1.3.1 Christology Christology has long been recognized as a major theme of Mark. Many interpreters have argued that Mark’s primary purpose for writing is to establish a particular Christology. Here we will examine two signicant themes through which interpreters have attempted to ascertain Mark’s christological purposes: the messianic secret and corrective Christology. We will also determine whether Christology is the key to understanding Mark’s purpose. The Messianic Secret In his landmark book The Messianic Secret, Wrede argued that Mark’s theological purpose centered on Christology. Wrede focused on what he believed to be a unied (and unifying) motif in Mark: secrecy concerning Jesus’ identity. He perceived that throughout the gospel, Jesus repeatedly seeks to conceal his identity. He commands the demons, which seem to have special insight into his identity, not to reveal who he is (1:21–28, 32–34; 3:7–12). He commands the disciples not to tell others of his identity both after Peter’s confession (8:27–30) and after his transguration (9:2–8). Those he heals are
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frequently commanded not to spread the news (1:40–45; 5:35–43; 7:31–37; 8:22–26). Jesus’ disciples are frequently blinded to Jesus’ identity, failing to perceive the signicance of who he is and what he will do (4:10–20, 35–41; 6:45–52; 8:14–21, 31–33; 9:30–32; 10:32–34). Wrede claimed that all these elements in Mark’s gospel are part of a unied motif and that this motif required a unied explanation.13 As noted above, Wrede argued that a historical explanation could not account for the whole of this motif. Therefore, a theological motif was needed. Wrede also concluded that Jesus was never actually recognized by the early church as the Messiah until after his resurrection. Over time, however, the church began to believe that Jesus was the Messiah during his earthly life. A conict resulted between the earliest Jesus tradition and church, with the latter recognizing Jesus as Messiah and the former failing to do so. Wrede then claims that Mark’s messianic secret motif was created in order to explain why Jesus was never recognized as the Messiah during his earthly life.14 Mark seeks to show that Jesus was recognized as Messiah, but this identity was purposefully concealed until after his resurrection.15 Many interpreters have rejected Wrede’s overall conclusion concerning the purpose of the messianic secret motif, namely that it was written back into the tradition in order to cover up a non-messianic Jesus.16 Perhaps the most damaging evidence against Wrede’s position is the existence of messianic declarations within the pre-Markan tradition that are revealed rather than concealed (5:19–20; 10:47–52; 11:9–10). However, even if Wrede’s overall conclusion is wrong, his identication of the messianic secret as a theological motif still stands, and it must be addressed. A number of interpreters have followed Wrede in seeing the messianic 13 In the end Wrede concludes that the disciples’ failure to understand Jesus is only indirectly related to the messianic secrecy motif. See Messianic Secret, 231–36. 14 Wrede argued that the motif of secrecy was already embedded in much of the tradition which Mark received; therefore, Mark is not primarily responsible for its creation (145–49). Later Bultmann afrmed Wrede’s theory but amended it slightly by claiming that a Markan redactor was responsible for the secrecy motif. See Rudolf Bultmann, The History of the Synoptic Tradition (trans. John Marsh; rev. ed.; Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1972), 338–51. 15 For Wrede’s explanation for the creation of the Markan secrecy motif, see Messianic Secret, 211–30. 16 For a critique of Wrede’s conclusion regarding a non-Messianic Jesus see Albert Schweizter, The Quest of the Historical Jesus: A Critical Study of Its Progress from Reimarus to Wrede (trans. James M. Robinson; New York: The Macmillan Company, 1961), 45, 342–49; William Sanday, The Life of Christ in Recent Research, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1907), esp. 69–76; T. W. Manson, “Life of Jesus: Some Tendencies in Present-Day Research” in The Background of the New Testament and Its Eschatology: In Honour of C. H. Dodd (ed. W. D. Davies and D. Daube; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1956), 211–21; Vincent Taylor, “W. Wrede’s Messianic Secret in the Gospels,” ExpTim 65 (1953–1954): 248–50; James D. G. Dunn, “The Messianic Secret in Mark” in The Messianic Secret (ed. Christopher Tuckett; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983), 116–31.
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secret as the key to unlocking Mark’s christological/theological purpose.17 However, the value of the messianic secret for determining Mark’s purpose is suspect. One of Wrede’s (and others’) primary reasons for seeing the secrecy motif as a crucial window into Mark’s overall purpose was the belief that it was a unied theme that ran through the whole of Mark. Heikki Räisänen, among others, has challenged this basic assumption, claiming that instead of a unied theme of secrecy, Mark contains a number of different and unrelated secrecy themes.18 He notes that the commands Jesus gives to demons and to the disciples are different in nature from the commands he gave to those who have been healed. The former commands are always kept while the latter are often broken. The parable theory is also a part of a distinct and separate motif, as is the motif of the disciples’ failure to understand Jesus (a point Wrede himself acknowledged.) What we nd in Mark is a “miracle secret” and a “messianic secret.”19 By breaking up the messianic secret into smaller motifs, the theme of secrecy loses some of its importance for understanding Mark’s overall purpose. No longer is the interpreter forced to come up with a single theory to account for all of the different aspects of the Wrede’s messianic secret. James Dunn argues that some of the elements of the so called “messianic secret” may actually nd their origin in the historical Jesus, while others may be theologically driven.20 It is important to consider each manifestation of secrecy on its own, and not prematurely force them all into one theological construct. It is true that some elements of Mark’s secrecy motif have a theological function, and any theory regarding Mark’s purpose must 17 Martin Dibelius saw the secrecy motif as an apologetic device to explain why Jesus ministry failed among the Jewish people. See Dibelius, From Tradition to Gospel (trans. Bertram Lee Woolf; London: James Clark & Co., 1971), 230–31; cf. T. A. Burkill, Mysterious Revelation: An Examination of the Philosophy of St. Mark’s Gospel (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1963). Hans Jürgen Ebeling saw the secrecy motif simply as a foil that highlighted Mark’s greater purpose, namely to reveal Jesus’ glory. See Ebeling, Das Messiasgeheimnis und die Botschaft des Marcus-Evangelisten (Berlin: A. Töpelmann, 1939), esp. 167–70. George Strecker sees the secrecy motif as Mark historicizing kerygma. Mark and his community saw the resurrection as a dividing point between revelation and secrecy. Mark’s story reects this kerygmatic understanding. See Strecker, “The Theory of the Messianic Secret in Mark’s Gospel” in The Messianic Secret (ed. C. M. Tuckett; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983), 49–64. 18 Heikki Räisänen, The ‘Messianic Secret’ in Mark (trans. Christopher Tuckett; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1990), 242–43; Ulrich Luz, “The Secrecy Motif and Marcan Christology,” in The Messianic Secret (ed. Christopher Tuckett; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983), 75–96. 19 See Räisänen, 242–45. Jack D. Kingsbury notes that what Räisänen dubs the “messianic secret” is better understood as the “Son of God secret.” For Kingsbury, the secret centers upon Jesus’ identity as Son of God specically, an identity which cannot be comprehended fully apart from the cross. The secrecy motif helps advance this position. See Kingsbury, The Christology of Mark’s Gospel (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983). 20 Dunn, “The Messianic Secret,” 122–26.
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nd some way to account for these elements. But now this motif can be seen as secondary to Mark’s gospel. Corrective Christology During the 1960s and 1970s, a new way of understanding Mark’s purpose became en vogue. This new understanding, like Wrede’s “messianic secret,” also centered on Christology. Many interpreters argued that the gospel grew out of a christological conict within the church. Mark’s gospel was said to represent one side of this conict and it tried either to keep in check or to correct what it considered to be the dangerous or false Christology of an opposing faction. The false Christology was generally recognized as one which afrmed Jesus as a or “divine man” – a title that many proponents of a Markan “corrective Christology” closely related to the title, “Son of God.” On the other hand, Mark’s Christology is a Christology of the cross and is closely related to the title “Son of Man.” Here we will quickly survey the development of this perspective and offer one specic example. The trajectories of this position can be traced back to Wrede’s and Bultmann’s understandings of Mark’s Christology. Wrede argues that at Jesus’ baptism, he was no longer a simple human, but rather became a supernatural being.21 Though Wrede never uses the term , his understanding is virtually the same as that of Bultmann who places the Markan Jesus in the category of .22 Bultmann’s understanding of the qei o V a jnh vr concept is based on the work of Ludwig Bieler.23 According to Bieler, the Hellenistic concept of a was that of the divine residing in the human.24 A is characterized by astonishing powers and abilities, such as great wisdom or the power to perform mighty acts.25 The title Mark used to express this Christology is “Son of God.”26 It is important to note that both Wrede and Bultmann understood this concept of to express accurately Mark’s Christology. In the 1960s and 1970s, the Christology that Wrede and Bultmann saw Mark afrming, many interpreters now saw as a Christology that Mark was correcting or trying to keep in check.27 Their basic position was that Mark 21
Wrede, Messianic Secret, 72–79. Rudolf Bultmann, Theology of the New Testament (trans. Kendrick Grobel; New York: Scribner’s, 1951), 131–32. 23 Ludwig Bieler, Theios An r: Das Bild des “Göttlichen Menschen” in Spätantike und Frühchristentum (vol. 1; Vienna: Höfels, 1935). 24 Bieler, 129, 141. 25 Bieler, 73–97. 26 Bultmann, Theology, 131–32. 27 Both Dieter Georgi, (The Opponents of Paul in Second Corinthians [Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986]) and Siegfried Schulz (Die Stunde der Botschaft [Hamburg: Furche, 1967], 54–59, 64–79) are examples of scholars who afrmed Mark’s Christology as being 22
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had received in his tradition a Christology; however, he himself believed in a Christology of the cross.28 Interpreters saw Mark adding his own correcting perspective of a “cross Christology” to this received tradition. They suggest that Mark did this for one of two reasons: either to overturn this errant position by replacing it with the cross,29 or to balance what he saw as an extreme/dangerous position by mitigating it with the cross.30 While numerous interpreters have their own unique perspectives on these two positions, each sees Mark’s primary purposes in terms of correcting a dangerous or faulty Christology – generally a Christology of power and glory.31 Perhaps the most radical of these interpreters is Theodore J. Weeden who has taken this notion of “corrective Christology” and developed it into a comprehensive thesis for understanding the theology of and the purpose of Mark’s gospel. Weeden begins with two basic starting points, which he believes are already in the text. The rst is a polemic against the disciples. The disciples constantly fail to understand Jesus’ true identity and his need to undergo suffering and death. The second is the existence of two competing Christologies: a Christology and a “cross Christology.” Weeden brings these two points together by attributing the Christology to the twelve disciples. Mark on the other hand, is championing the Christology of the cross against the disciples and the group that the disciples represent. that of a “divine man,” though Schulz also afrmed that Jesus, even as a “divine man,” must also encounter the cross. 28 A “Christology of the cross” or a “cross Christology” simply refer to a presentation of Jesus that understands his messianic identity primarily in terms of his suffering and death. 29 Johannes Schreiber, “Die Christologie des Markusevangeliums,” ZTK 58 (1961): 154–83; Norman Perrin, “The Creative Use of Son of Man Traditions by Mark” and “The Christology of Mark: A Study in Methodology” in A Modern Pilgrimage in New Testament Christology (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974) 84–93 and 104–21; Ludger Schenke, Die Wundererzählungen des Markusevangeliums (SBB; Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1974) esp. 393–95; Theodore J. Weeden, Mark–Traditions in Conict (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1971); Weeden, “The Heresy that Necessitated Mark’s Gospel,” ZNTW 59 (1968): 145–58; See the thorough discussion of Weeden that follows below. 30 Representative of this position include Leander Keck, “Mark 3:7–12 and Mark’s Christology,” JBL 84 (1965): 341–58, esp. 349–51, 354, 357–58; H. D. Betz, “Jesus as Divine Man” in Jesus and the Historian: In Honor of Ernest Cadman Colwell (ed. F. T. Trotter; Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1968), 114–33, esp. 121–25; Paul Achtemeier, Mark (PC; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975), esp. 41–47; Achtemeier, “Gospel Miracle Tradition and the Divine Man,” Int 26 (1972): 174–97; Achtemeier, “Origin and Function of the Pre-Marcan Miracle Catenae,” JBL 91 (1972): 198–221, esp. 198, 220–21; Ralph Martin, Mark–Evangelist and Theologian (Exeter: Paternoster, 1972), esp. 153–62; Eduard Schweizer, The Good News According to Mark (tran. D. H. Madvig; Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1970), esp. 380–86; R. H. Fuller, A Critical Introduction to the New Testament (London: Gerald Duckworth, 1966), 108ff; Carl R. Kazmierski, Jesus, the Son of God: A Study of the Markan Tradition and Its Redaction by the Evangelist (FB 33; Würzburg: Echter Verlag, 1979). 31 A “Christology of power and/or glory” simply refers to a presentation of Jesus that understands him as the Messiah primarily in terms of power and glory.
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Weeden then offers a historical setting that explains how this heresy to which Mark is responding grew. According to Weeden, the Markan community was eagerly awaiting the coming Parousia. However, the delay of the Parousia in some ways had broken their spirits. While Mark’s community was in this vulnerable state, a group of false teachers inltrated it, proclaiming to be representatives of Christ and promulgating a Christology. They corroborate this message with miracles and mighty deeds, and claim that their message goes back to the disciples themselves. According to Weeden, these individuals claim that “authentic Christian existence nds meaning and fulllment, not in the humiliation of suffering servanthood, but in the pneumatic glory of existence.”32 After seeing many of the community members won over by this charismatic message, Mark prepares his gospel as a response. He presents Jesus as a suffering messiah who is only correctly understood in such light. He also presents the way of suffering and servanthood as the true way of a disciple. The Markan disciples (representative of Mark’s opponents) clearly misunderstand both of these truths (see the numerous examples of the disciples’ failures above) and are presented as failures. Through his gospel, Mark denounces the validity of both the heretical teachers in his community and their heretical message, while at the same time he raises up his own christological perspective as superior. In critiquing the “corrective christological” purpose of Mark, we will begin by making a few observations specic to Weeden’s theory, following them with some general observations regarding “corrective Christology” as a whole. Our starting point will be Weeden’s claim that Mark contains a harsh polemic against the twelve disciples. His observation that the disciples’ failure is a signicant motif in Mark is accurate (as noted by Wrede and many other interpreters).33 But does this motif of failure equal such a radical polemic? Though the disciples fail in many ways throughout Mark, the gospel does not present them in an exclusively negative light. For example, they are willing to leave all they have and follow after Jesus (1:16–20; 2:13–14). Seemingly this fact establishes them as exemplars of Mark’s theme of costly discipleship rather than antitheses to it. Jesus even afrms that the disciples’ sacrice will be rewarded (10:28–31). He entrusts them with the mission of proclaiming the gospel and of casting out demons (3:13–15; 6:6–13). The text even implies that they were successful in these tasks. It is also likely that in the Markan narrative, Jesus’ comments about his true mother and brothers (3:31–35) have the disciples in mind. All these positive presentations of the disciples stand as strong evidence that Mark’s motif of failing disciples is not a harsh polemic 32 33
Weeden, “Heresy,” 155. See discussion of the “messianic secret” and William Wrede on pages 9–12.
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against heretical teachers. The disciples may in fact represent community members who have failed or who are failing in their understanding of both Christology and discipleship, but it seems misguided to understand them as enemies of the evangelist. With the dismantling of the polemic against the disciples, Weeden’s reconstruction of Mark’s Sitz im Leben also fails. But even if one accepts Weeden’s conclusion regarding the failure motif, Weeden’s reconstruction is shaky at best. The biggest problem for this reconstruction is that no historical evidence exists to support it, leaving it as pure conjecture. Dieter Georgi has convinced some that Paul was facing such proponents of a Christology when he wrote 2 Corinthians.34 However, even if Georgi is right (which is debatable), these were opponents Paul faced in the 50s C.E.35 Mark was written fteen to twenty years later (with Weeden placing it thirty years later), and we have no evidence that such a group existed at that time. The size, nature, and exact identity of these Corinthian opponents are completely unknown. To translate this group of opponents into Mark’s community is adding speculation on top of conjecture. In light of this, Weeden’s reconstruction is nothing more than a shot in the dark with virtually no evidence to support it. While his theory has convinced few, it still remains a denitive statement in the history of Markan interpretation. What then might be said in critique of the view that Mark was written as a “corrective Christology?” Certainly many proponents of the theory are not as radical as Weeden. Any critique, however, should begin with an evaluation of the concept of the . More recent studies have made a great deal of progress in showing that this entire concept lacks denition in the ancient world, causing many interpreters to doubt its value for understanding Mark’s Christology. Wülng von Martitz has demonstrated that the term was relatively rare in ancient Greek.36 He also notes that it was never a “technical term” or “xed expression” in the pre-Christian world.37 Also noteworthy is Carl Holladay’s study of .38 He analyzes primarily Jewish-Hel34
Georgi, Opponents of Paul. For critiques of Georgi, see the following works: Jerry Sumney, “The Role of Historical Constructions of Early Christianity in Identifying Paul’s Opponents,” PRSt 16 (1989): 45–53; Thomas Tobin, “The Opponents of Paul in 2 Corinthians,” CBQ 50 (1988): 317–19; C. J. A. Hickling, “Is the Second Epistle to the Corinthians a Source for Early Church History?” ZNW 66 (1975): 284–87; C. K. Barrett, “Paul’s Opponents in II Corinthians,” NTS 17 (1971): 233–54. 36 Wülng von Martitz, “” TDNT 8 (1972): 338–40. 37 Martitz, “,” 339. 38 Carl Holladay, Theios Aner in Hellenistic Judaism: A Critique of the Use of This Category in New Testament Christology (SBLDS 40; Missoula: Scholars Press, 1977); also see Otto Betz, “The Concept of the So-Called ‘Divine-Man’ in Mark’s Christology” in Studies in New Testament and Early Christian Literature: Essays in Honor of Allen Wikgren (ed. D. E. Aune; Leiden: Brill, 1972), 229–40. 35
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lenistic literature and draws conclusions similar to those of von Martitz. The term again seems to have no real xed meaning. It could mean an “inspired man,” an “extraordinary man,” or a “man related to God.”39 The lack of a denite meaning for in both the Hellenistic and Jewish-Hellenistic world must cause us to be cautious in afrming it as a crucial element either in the pre-Markan tradition or in some ambiguous heretical teaching. It is also important to note that the connection between and the concept of or title “Son of God” is highly uncertain, undermining the common bridge interpreters use for getting from to the Gospel of Mark.40 Simply undermining the concept of does not undermine the possibility of seeing two competing Christologies in Mark. What has been identied as Christology could simply be referred to as a Christology of glory or power in Mark. The removal of the concept does not eliminate the possibility of competing Christologies. But does Mark present two competing Christologies: a Christology of the cross against a Christology of power or of Son of Man against Son of God? The problem with such theories is that Mark seems to strongly afrm a Christology of power and Jesus’ identity as Son of God. In fact, the entire rst half of Mark’s gospel presents a dominant Christology of glory and power. Jesus receives the Spirit of God, heals the sick, forgives sin, casts out demons, raises the dead, proclaims the “good news” with authority, both calms the sea and walks on it, and twice multiplies bread and sh. Never are these deeds belittled or considered insignicant. Rather, even when there is an attempt to conceal them through secrecy, they cannot be concealed! There is virtually no “cross Christology” that combats or mitigates this Christology of power (mentioning John’s arrest [1:14], the blasphemy charges [2:6–7], and the departing bridegroom [2:19–20] hardly turn the christological tide). It also cannot be contested that the Christology of glory ends after Peter’s confession. The confession is followed by the transguration, the healing of the boy with an evil spirit, the authoritative teachings, the healing of blind Bartimaeus, the triumphal entry, the cursing and withering of the g tree, the judgment of the temple, the outwitting of the religious leaders, and the prediction of both the end of the world and the temple. All of these examples bear more witness to a Christology of power than to a Christology of the cross. And what about the elements of a “cross Christology”? Certainly in the second half of Mark’s gospel there appear references to Jesus’ impending suffering and death, i.e., the passion predictions (8:31; 9:30–31; 10:32–34); talk of suffering discipleship (8:34–38); the parable of the wicked tenants (12:1– 12); Jesus’ ominous response to James and John (10:35–45); and, of course, the passion narrative itself (Mark 14–15). But do these comparatively few 39
Holladay, “Theios Aner,” 237. In particular, see Norman Perrin’s attempt to make this connection in “Christology of Mark,” 104–21. 40
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elements serve to correct the “Christology of power and glory”? They do not seem to have the power to make such a thematic shift in the narrative, nor is there any direct evidence in the text that Mark intends for them to effect such a shift. In fact, Robert Gundry has argued that Mark overwhelmingly presents a Christology of glory rather than a Christology of the cross.41 Gundry argues that even Jesus’ prediction of his death and resurrection serve a Christology of power because in the Greco-Roman world, the ability to predict one’s own death (or anything for that matter) was recognized as an extraordinary feat.42 The slight evidence often used to argue that Mark is correcting a Christology of power hardly seems to be enough to turn the tide towards an exclusive Christology of the cross. Yes, Jesus rebukes Peter for not accepting the impending cross, but is this really Mark’s attempt to undermine the Christology of power that runs through his gospel? Might it simply be another example of the disciples’ failure or possibly even a historical recollection? How specically do the passion predictions undermine the Christology of power? If Mark is attempting to correct a misguided Christology of power, it seems he does quite a poor job of it. The casual reader (or hearer) would likely miss it all together. It also seems unlikely that Mark is pitting “Son of Man” against “Son of God.” The concept or title of “Son of God” nds itself in three crucial places in Mark’s gospel, the beginning (1:1, 11), the middle (9:7), and end (14:61–62; 15:39). In two of these occurrences, it is God who proclaims Jesus to be his son! This evidence indicates that “Son of God” is a title that is signicant to Mark’s Christology, rather than one that he is attempting to replace with “Son of Man.” There seem to be signicant reasons for rejecting the traditional expression of a “corrective christological” purpose of Mark’s gospel. For the most part, interpreters have abandoned such a position and instead are working to see Mark’s Christology as a unity. Many valuable works have been written on the nature of Markan Christology, and it may be fair to say that the majority of interpreters see Christology as Mark’s central and overarching theme. However, many of these interpreters fail to do one thing that the proposals of a “corrective Christology” accomplished – namely, they fail to present us with a reason why Mark has given us this Christology. What was Mark’s motivation or impetus for presenting this particular Christological perspective? If Mark’s purpose is christological, then it seems likely that it was intended to convince the reader or listener of its position. This would then imply that at least some 41 Robert Gundry, Mark: A Commentary on His Apology for the Cross (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), esp. 1–26. 42 Gundry, Apology, 425–40. For further discussion on Mark’s positive presentation of miracles, see Edwin K. Broadhead, Teaching with Authority: Miracles and Christology in the Gospel of Mark (JSNTSup 74; Shefeld: Shefeld Academic Press, 1992). In our third chapter, we will offer an expanded discussion Mark’s christological perspective.
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of Mark’s audience is of a different opinion (or possibly of no opinion). In this sense, it seems that if Mark’s purpose is christological (which we have not yet established), then it is essentially a “corrective Christology” because it desires to change or sway the christological position of its audience. Such a “corrective” element does appear in the text. Jesus warns his disciples, saying “many will come in my name saying ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray” (13:6). These are “false Christs and false prophets” who will produce “signs and omens” and “lead away, if possible, the elect” (13:21–22). These words likely reect a situation that the Markan community currently faces.43 That Mark’s disciples consistently fail in their understanding of Jesus’ identity may also reect the lack of appropriate christological understanding in Mark’s community – an understanding the evangelist intends to correct. Therefore, though we have closed the door on the traditional position of “corrective Christology,” i.e., that two competing Christologies exist within Mark’s own gospel, the door still remains open for us to offer new theories regarding the corrective nature of Mark’s Christology. These theories would have to look outside of Mark for possible Christological positions to which he might be responding. This conclusion, however, is dependent on a demonstration that Mark’s purpose is in fact christological. Christological Purpose With the waning of the view that Mark’s Christology is corrective, a great deal of new studies has been done concerning Markan Christology. Some have highlighted elements of Mark that portray Jesus as the royal or kingly messianic gure, an understanding shaped by Davidic ideology of the Old Testament and Second Temple literature.44 Priestly dimensions of Mark’s Christology have also been examined.45 Perhaps the most popular view is that Mark understands Jesus as Messiah (even a Davidic one) but Messiah specically in terms of “Son of God.”46 As noted above, this designation 43 For a similar conclusion, see Joel Marcus, Mark 1–8: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, (AB 27; New York: Doubleday, 2000), 78–79. 44 For examples, see: J. D. Kingsbury, Christology; D. Juel, Messiah and Temple: The Trial of Jesus in the Gospel of Mark (SBLDS 31; Missoula: Scholars Press, 1977); F. J. Matera, The Kingship of Jesus: Composition and Theology in Mark (SBLDS 66; Missoula: Scholars Press, 1982); Hans-Jörg Steichele, Der leidende Sohn Gottes: Eine Untersuchung einiger alttestamentlicher Motive in der Christologie des Markusevangeliums (Biblische Untersuchungen 14; Regensburg: Friedrich Pustet, 1980); see also Joel Marcus, The Way of the Lord: Christological Exegesis of the Old Testament in the Gospel of Mark (Louisville: WJK, 1992), who sees both continuity and discontinuity between Mark’s understanding of messianic kingship and that found in the Second Temple period. 45 Edwin K. Broadhead, “Christology as Polemic and Apologetic: The Priestly Portrait of Jesus in the Gospel of Mark,” JSNT 47 (1992): 21–34. 46 J. D. Kingsbury, Christology; Steichele, Der leidende Sohn Gottes; Robert Rowe, God’s Kingdom and God’s Son (Leiden: Brill, 2002); W. R. Telford, The Theology of the
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occurs at pivotal points throughout Mark’s text. Regardless of their particular understanding of Markan Christology (not all of which are mutually exclusive), many of these interpreters would agree that promoting Christology is the primary purpose that is driving the evangelist. Much evidence supports this claim. The gospel begins with a denitive statement concerning Jesus’ identity, one that many understand to be programmatic: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (1:1).47 Mark closes his prologue (1:1–13) with a divine afrmation of Jesus’ identity: “You are my son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased.”48 Throughout the Markan narrative, the question of Jesus’ identity continually arises (1:27–28; 2:7; 4:35; 6:2–3). There are two references to ongoing debates about Jesus’ identity among the people (6:14–16; 8:27–30). In the middle of the narrative – what many have assessed to be the watershed moment in Mark – Jesus asks his disciples who people say that he is, to which Peter answers that Jesus is the Messiah (8:27–30). Throughout the narrative, Jesus’ identity is revealed either by God (9:7) or by demons (1:24–26; 1:34; 3:11–12; 5:7), but repeatedly Jesus himself tries to conceal it (with the exception of 5:7, which occurs in isolation from people). Even after Peter’s confession, Jesus commands his disciples not to tell anyone. That Mark has created this motif of secrecy around Jesus’ identity is an indicator that Jesus’ identity is of central importance to the evangelist (though as we have noted, the secrecy motif is not itself the primary purpose of the gospel, but rather is ancillary). Even at Jesus’ trial, the question of his identity arises when the high priest asks him, “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?” (14:61). At Jesus’ death, the answer to the question of Jesus’ identity is provided by the least likely of characters, when a Roman centurion proclaims, “Truly this man was Son of God!” (15:39). This evidence clearly suggests Christology as a theme of great importance to Mark’s gospel and possibly a theme that is central to Mark’s overall purpose.49 1.3.2 Eschatology While Christology seems to be a dominant theme in Mark, some interpreters have posited that Mark’s overall purpose was actually driven by eschatology. Gospel of Mark (NTT; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999); C. A. Evans, Mark 8:27 – 16:20 (WBC; Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2001), lxxix–lxxx; Larry Hurtado, Mark (NIBCNT 2; Peabody: Hendrickson, 1989), 10–11. 47 Textual issues surrounding “Son of God” will be addressed thoroughly in later chapters. However, for our purposes, even if “Son of God” is not original to the text, the statement remains heavily christological. 48 All biblical citations will be taken from the NRSV unless otherwise noted. 49 Regarding the centrality of Jesus’ identity to Mark’s gospel see, Ohajuobodo I. Oko, “Who then is this?” A Narrative Study of the Role of the Question of the Identity of Jesus in the Plot of Mark’s Gospel (BBB 148; Berlin: Philo, 2004).
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Here we will examine two such theories: those of Willi Marxsen and Werner Kelber. Willi Marxsen Marxsen’s work is of tremendous importance in the history of Markan interpretation.50 Marxsen was one of the rst interpreters to apply the tools of redaction criticism to Mark.51 He rejected the form-critical notion that the evangelist was simply an impartial collector of tradition. Marxsen argued that Mark had a theological purpose and that this could be seen in the unique way he arranged and edited his material. Marxsen’s work forever changed Markan interpretation and resurrected the question of a Markan purpose from the graveyard of form criticism. Based on his analysis of Markan redaction, Marxsen tried to reconstruct the Sitz im Leben within which Mark wrote his gospel. He places great signicance on Mark’s geography and claims that the Markan juxtaposition of Galilee and Jerusalem was not merely historical but reected the setting in which Mark wrote.52 Mark’s favorable presentation of Galilee as the place of success for Jesus’ ministry is taken as evidence of a Galilean community of which Mark was a part. Marxsen dates Mark during the tumultuous times of the Jewish revolt, between 67 and 69 C.E. He refers to an oracle, cited by Eusebius (Hist. eccl. 3.5.3.), that called for all Christians to ee the danger of Jerusalem and go to Pella.53 According to Marxsen, Mark’s purpose for writing his gospel is similar to that of the oracle itself. The gospel serves as an urgent warning for Jerusalem Christians to ee to Pella (which Marxsen locates in Galilee). Mark 13 serves the purpose of calming apocalyptic excitement brought about by the beginning of the war. Such excitement is not yet warranted because Christians will see the Parousia in Galilee and not in Jerusalem. Marxsen sees verse 16:7 corresponding with this setting, and claims that the angel’s words, “he is going ahead of you to Galilee, there you will see him, just as he told you,” speaks of the Parousia rather than of the resurrected 50 Willi Marxsen, Mark the Evangelist (trans. James Boyce, et al; Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1969). 51 A few years prior to Marxsen’s work, H. Riesenfeld produced a work with results that were quite similar, though Riesenfeld’s work had a far smaller impact on New Testament studies. See Riesenfeld, “Tradition und Redaktion im Markusevangelium” in Neutestamentliche Studien für Rudolf Bultmann zu seinem siebzigsten Geburtstag am 20. August 1954 (ed. Walther Eltester; Berlin: A. Töpelmann, 1954), 157–64. 52 Marxsen, Mark the Evangelist, 102–10. The signicance Marxsen places on Galilee and Judea/Jerusalem is reminiscent of the work of Ernst Lohmeyer (Das Evangelium des Markus [15th ed.; KEK; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1959], esp. 29; Galiläa und Jerusalem [FRLANT 52; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1936]) and R. H. Lightfoot (Locality and Doctrine in the Gospels [New York: Harper & Bros., 1938]). 53 Marxsen, Mark the Evangelist, 107.
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Jesus.54 Therefore, Mark is writing to reorient eschatological expectations from centering on Jerusalem to centering on Galilee. While Marxsen’s methodology has found a home in the New Testament guild,55 his conclusions regarding Mark’s purpose for writing his gospel have not. In fact, Marxsen’s conclusions have found a good deal of criticism. We will take Marxsen’s dependence on Eusebius’ testimony as a starting point for our critique. Marxsen stakes a great deal on the historical reliability of this testimony, though such reliability has been seriously challenged.56 That the tradition does not appear until the early fourth century and its absence in Josephus’ writings certainly raises suspicion. If there was no such exodus of Jerusalem Christians, nor an oracle commanding one, Marxsen’s theory is signicantly weakened. Marxsen’s placement of Pella in Galilee is certainly convenient for his theory, but it also lacks supporting evidence. Such a community in Galilee in the 60s is completely unknown and, therefore, purely speculative. Marxsen’s interpretation of Mark 14:28 and 16:7 as references to the parousia rather than to post-resurrection appearances is also highly suspect, and it has gained little support from fellow interpreters. Mark clearly seems to distinguish between the resurrected Jesus and the Jesus of the Parousia. The resurrection is to take place three days after Jesus’ death (8:31; 9:30; 10:34), while the Parousia is to occur sometime after the destruction of Jerusalem and is to be accompanied by apocalyptic signs. The absence of resurrection appearances in Mark is not adequate to overturn evidence elsewhere that Mark expected such appearances. As many have argued, it is quite possible that Mark included resurrection appearances but that they have been lost.57 Certainly 14:28 and 16:7 are best understood by the reader as referring to the disciples seeing the resurrected Jesus rather than the apocalyptic “Son of Man” who comes in the clouds (descending from the heavens). It makes much more sense in the narrative for the disciples to wait three days in Galilee for the resurrected Jesus than to have them wait for thirty years for the Parousia. Perhaps Hans Conzelmann’s critique of Marxsen is the most powerful. He notes that it is quite “improbable that anyone who saw the catastrophe [Jerusalem’s destruction] on the way would calmly write a book to prompt immediate 54
Marxsen, Mark the Evangelist, 75–94. It must be noted that redaction criticism’s usefulness as a tool for interpreting Mark has been rightfully critiqued. For such a critique, see Black, “Quest of the Markan Redactor,” 19–39; idem, Markan Redaction in Current Debate. 56 S. G. F. Brandon, The Fall of Jerusalem and the Christian Church (London: S. P. C. K., 1951), esp. 168–73, 263–64; G. Strecker, “Der Evangelist Markus: Studien zur Redaktionsgeschichte des Evangeliums,” ZKG 72 (1961): 145; W. R. Farmer, Maccabees, Zealots and Josephus (New York: Columbia University Press, 1956), 128 n. 2. Defense of the position is offered by S. Sowers, “The Circumstances and Recollection of the Pella Flight,” TZ 26.5 (1970): 305–20. 57 For a persuasive argument for a lost ending to Mark see Gundry, Apology, 1009–12. 55
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ight.”58 A full gospel of Jesus’ life does not seem to be the most apt response to the situation that Marxsen proposes. A similar critique can also be levied. If Mark’s Gospel is written with the primary purpose of shifting eschatological orientation, what purpose does the large amount of Mark’s content that is unrelated to the eschatology serve? That is, why should Mark include material that focuses on Christology or discipleship? It seems odd to conclude that a theme which is relatively minor in regard to content could trump in importance themes which occupy a major portion of the gospel.59 In conclusion, Marxsen’s proposal regarding Mark’s purpose for writing proves not to be tenable. It is built on historical speculation and conjecture, depends on faulty exegesis of the Markan text, and fails to give deference to the more signicant themes in Mark’s gospel. Werner Kelber Like Marxsen, Kelber situates Mark in the setting of the Jewish revolt. However, unlike Marxsen, Kelber places Mark after the destruction of Jerusalem rather than before it.60 He envisions a setting in which, prior to the destruction, the Jerusalem church has high eschatological expectations, because of the claims of false prophets (cf. Marxsen’s claim above). However, after the destruction, they are left disillusioned and hopeless when the kingdom of God is not consummated. According to Kelber, Mark then crafts his gospel in the wake of the eschatological crisis of the Jerusalem church. He creates a polemical document that lifts up Galilean Christianity and denounces Jerusalem Christianity. Central to this polemic is the issue of eschatology. As Weeden saw the Markan purpose as correcting a false Christology, Kelber sees Mark’s primary purpose as correcting a false eschatology (cf. Marxsen above). According to Kelber, Mark is arguing that the Parousia was never supposed to take place in Jerusalem but in Galilee (cf. Marxsen above). Mark accomplishes this polemic by juxtaposing Galilee and Jerusalem (cf. Marxsen, Lohmeyer, and Lightfoot). Mark’s Galilee represents Mark’s community: a community that afrms the way of the cross, champions suffering discipleship, and advances the Gentile mission. Jerusalem represents the Jerusalem church: a community that is associated with Peter and the rest 58 H. Conzelmann, An Outline of the Theology of the New Testament (London: SCM Press, 1969), 144. 59 Later Marxsen attempts to alleviate this problem and argues that Mark writes for the purpose of preserving the preaching of Christ or the kerygma (Introduction to the New Testament: An Approach to its Problems [trans. G. Buswell; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1968], esp. 134–45). However, this does not replace his earlier position but only serves to supplement it. 60 Werner H. Kelber, The Kingdom in Mark: A New Time and a New Place (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974).
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of the twelve, as well as Jesus’ family. This community opposes the Gentile mission and holds fast to their Jewish way of life (by fasting, keeping the Sabbath, adhering to purity laws, etc.).61 Jerusalem is portrayed in a negative light, as are Peter, the twelve and Jesus’ family (individuals closely connected to the Jerusalem Church). Galilee, on the other hand, is portrayed in a positive light, as the place where the kingdom of God will be consummated (1:14–15). Kelber sees Mark accomplishing two things through this polemic. First, Mark redenes his own community as one that is both Jewish and Gentile.62 Second, he invites those survivors of the Jerusalem church to join the movement of Jesus in Galilee and await the coming Parousia (and the kingdom that comes with it) there, in a “new time and a new place.”63 Kelber’s interpretation alleviates some of the problems that plagued Marxsen’s. By placing Mark after the destruction of the temple, he removes any need for the exodus to Pella.64 He also removes the urgency of Marxsen’s position, making the writing of a “gospel” a more reasonable response to the problem Mark is facing. Kelber also better incorporates various Markan themes into his overall explanation of Mark’s purpose. However, it is still odd that what takes up such a small portion of Mark’s content – eschatology – could actually function as central to his overall purpose. While Kelber alleviates some of Marxsen’s difculties, his work maintains many of them and also has a number of its own. Like Marxsen, he assumes a great deal about the Galilean community in the rst century, about which we know very little. He also maintains Marxsen’s understanding of 14:28 and 16:7 as proclamations that the Parousia is to take place in Galilee. In fact, Kelber adds Mark 1:14–15 as further evidence of Galilee as the place where the kingdom of God is to be established. That these verses intend to proclaim the nal establishment of God’s kingdom in Galilee rather than the beginning of this kingdom is highly unlikely. These verses more likely express two historical realities: (1) that Jesus began his ministry in Galilee and (2) that Jesus’ message was a proclamation of the kingdom of God. There is no indication 61
In a later work, which has garnered a great deal of attention, The Oral and Written Gospel (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983), Kelber adds a new distinctive feature between the Galilean and Jerusalem communities. The Jerusalem community is one of “orality” or one that is dependent on oral tradition. Mark seeks to end this oral tradition by replacing it with a written tradition, his own gospel. For a critique of this unique aspect of Kelber’s theory, see John Halverson, “Oral and Written Gospel: A Critique of Werner Kelber,” NTS 40 (1994): 180–195; Larry Hurtado, “Greco–Roman Textuality and the Gospel of Mark: A Critical Assessment of Werner Kelber’s The Oral and Written Gospel,” BBR 7 (1997): 91–106; Thomas E. Boomershine, “Peter’s Denial as Polemic or Confession: The Implications of Media Criticism for Biblical Hermeneutics,” Semeia 39 (1987): 47–68. 62 Kelber, New Time and New Place, 131. 63 Kelber, New Time and New Place, 132 64 In fact, as Kelber notes, it is essential to his position that not all the Jerusalem Church left in an exodus to Pella (New Time and New Place, 134).
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in the text that Mark is blending these two realities to make the claim that the kingdom of God will nally be established in Galilee. Kelber gives these verses more meaning than the evidence allows them to hold. Kelber also makes the same mistake that Weeden made by understanding the motif of the disciples’ failure as a polemic against them (or who/what they represent). As we have previously demonstrated, the disciples are not portrayed in a completely negative light, which makes the argument for a vehement polemic against them untenable. It also must be noted that Mark does not always paint Galilee in a positive light: Jesus is rejected by his own people in Nazareth (6:1–6); scribes in Capernaum accuse him of blasphemy (2:1–12); and Pharisees and Herodians (presumably in Galilee) seek to conspire to “destroy him” as a result of his performance of miracles on the Sabbath (3:1–6). While Jesus does enjoy a great deal of success in Galilee, he encounters trouble as well, trouble which works against the idealization of Galilee. After reviewing these theories of Marxsen and Kelber, theories which link Mark’s overall purpose to eschatology, we nd that both are problematic. Though Mark 13 makes us aware that Mark had an eye on eschatology, we conclude that eschatology is not the driving force behind his gospel. Therefore, it fails to satisfy us as a way to understand his overall purpose for writing.
1.4 Pastoral Purpose Throughout the history of Markan interpretation, many have seen Mark as a pastoral tract that focuses more on correct “praxis” (discipleship) than on correct “belief” (theology). Such theories have been expressed in many different ways. Some have suggested that Mark is a catechetical document, in which the catechumen’s journey/experience is paralleled with the life of Jesus (though few have found this position convincing).65 Others have seen Mark as a pedagogical document whose purpose is to shape discipleship. It is argued that Mark is not written to provide a history of Jesus, but it is the life of Jesus told in such a way as to address the faults, failings, and struggles of disciples in Mark’s community.66 Many of these interpreters see Mark writing in 65 G. Schille, “Bemerkungen zur Formgeschichte des Evangeliums: Rahmen und Auf bau des Markus-Evangelium,” NTS 4 (1957–1958): 1–24. Another position that is worth noting is that of M. P. Carrington, who argues that the organization of Mark is based upon the lectionaries read in the Jewish synagogue, which the early church had adopted. See Carrington, The Primitive Christian Calendar: A Study in the Making of the Markan Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1952); idem, “The Calendrical Hypothesis of the Origin of Mark,” ExpTim 67 (1956): 100–103. 66 K. G. Reploh, Markus, Lehrer der Gemeinde: eine redaktiongeschichtliche Studie zu den Jüngerperikopen des Markus-Evangeliums (SBM 9; Stuttgart: Verlag Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1969); Quentin Quesnell, The Mind of Mark: Interpretation and Method through
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response to suffering or persecution which his community has faced, is facing, or soon will face.67 Mark, therefore, constructs a life of Jesus to address proper discipleship in light of these circumstances. He offers a portrait of true discipleship that entails, among other things, being with Jesus, the renunciation of earthly possessions (6:7–9), bold proclamation of the Kingdom message (1:16–20; 6:10–13; 10:17–31), the renunciation of family ties (3:31–35; 10:28–31), and willingness to endure suffering and even death for Jesus and his kingdom (8:31 – 9:1; 10:35–45; 13:9–12). Often Jesus is seen as the exemplar of this discipleship. True discipleship is to follow the way of Jesus, which is the way of the cross. The frequent failure of Mark’s disciples has been perceived to advance this purpose. It is seen functioning as an encouragement to failed disciples and/or as a warning against spiritual blindness and future failure.68 For proponents of a pastoral purpose, the evangelist writes in order to offer a paradigm of true discipleship, encouragement to failed or struggling disciples, and warning to any who might take seriously enough the call of discipleship. the Exegesis of Mark 6,52 (Rome: Pontical Biblical Institute, 1969); J. R. Donahue, Are You the Christ? The Trial Narrative in the Gospel of Mark (SBLDS 10; Missoula: SBL, 1973); idem, The Theology and Setting of Discipleship in the Gospel of Mark (1983 Père Marquette Theology Lecture; Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 1983); Robert Meye, Jesus and the Twelve: Discipleship and Revelation in Mark’s Gospel (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1968); H. C. Kee, Community of the New Age (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1977); E. Best, Disciples and Discipleship (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1986); idem, Following Jesus: Discipleship in the Gospel of Mark (JSNTSup 4; Shefeld: Shefeld Academic Press, 1981); Gerd Theissen, The Gospels in Context: Social and Political History in the Synoptic Tradition (trans. Linda Maloney; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1991), 281–287; idem, “Evangelienschreibung und Gemeindeleitung: Pragmatische Motive bei der Abfassung des Markusevangeliums” in Antikes Judentum und frühes Christentum FS H. Stegemann (ed. B. Kollman, et al.; BZNW 97; Berlin: De Gruyter, 1999), 389–414; Etienne Trocmé, The Formation of the Gospel According to Mark (trans. Pamela Gaughan; Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1975), 107–37; M. E. Boring, “The Christology of Mark: Hermeneutical Issues for Systematic Theology,” Semeia 30 (1984): 143–44; K. Stock, Boten aus dem Mit-Ihm-Sein: Das Verhältnis zwischen Jesus und den Zwölf nach Markus (AnBib 70; Rome: Pontical Biblical Institute, 1975); R. C. Tannehill, “The Disciples in Mark: The Function of a Narrative Role” in The Interpretation of Mark (ed. Mark Telford; IRT 7; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985), 134–57; William Lane, The Gospel According to Mark (NICNT 2; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974), 12–17; D. E. Nineham, The Gospel of St. Mark (New York: Seabury Press, 1968), esp. 32–33. Nineham does not see discipleship as Mark’s only purpose but rather as one of a handful. 67 The location of this community usually varies between one of three options: Rome, Syria, or Galilee. However, for our discussion, the exact location of the persecuted community is unimportant. The question of locating Mark’s community might challenge the specic details of some of these theories, but it does not challenge their basic assumption of discipleship as Mark’s primary purpose. For interpreters who see persecution as a backdrop to Mark’s pastoral purpose, see Donahue, Theology and Setting; Kee, Community of the New Age; Best, Disciples and Discipleship and Following Jesus; Theissen, Gospels in Context; and Lane, According to Mark. 68 See Best, Following Jesus, 13–14.
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The work of these interpreters has undoubtedly offered us valuable insights into Mark’s understanding of discipleship and the importance of this theme within his gospel. However, there are signicant reasons to doubt that Mark’s primary purpose for writing was to shape discipleship or to offer pastoral instruction. First, it does not seem that the topic of discipleship is able to account for a signicant portion of Mark’s content. Here we will use Mark’s christological program as an example. Those who advance a pastoral purpose for Mark’s writing often suggest a connection between Mark’s “cross Christology” and the theme of discipleship. Jesus serves as an example of true discipleship, and any true disciple must follow the way of Jesus. In this way, Mark’s Christology can be shown to serve the purpose of shaping discipleship. But as we demonstrated earlier, Mark’s “cross Christology” is only one component of Mark’s christological program. In fact, if we simply look at Markan content, it seems that the “cross Christology” is heavily outweighed by a Christology of power. If a message of radical discipleship is Mark’s primary purpose, then how is it able to explain this dominant Christology of power? Theissen has tried to solve this problem by means of a “miracle as secret” motif.69 According to Theissen, the “miracle as secret” serves to soften a Christology of glory in order to advance a discipleship of suffering. Because Mark’s purpose is to communicate a discipleship of suffering and the way of the cross, Mark must in someway soften the powerful deeds of Jesus. Theissen states, “Here Jesus is the successful wonderworker. He puts an end to suffering; he does not lead people into it . . . . By means of the secrecy motif, the evangelist probably wants to apply a certain corrective to the popular view (namely Jesus as wonder worker).”70 Here we have something reminiscent of “corrective Christology.” However, instead of trying to replace a false Christological perspective with a new one, Mark is balancing an otherwise accurate view of Christology in order to advance his program of discipleship.71 But as noted above, the notion that Mark feels the need to balance, soften, or in some way correct a Christology of glory is misguided. This theory proposes that Mark has kept in his gospel (which is written in order to communicate a discipleship of suffering and the cross) an exorbitant amount of traditions that communicate a Christology of glory (which Theissen admits works against Mark’s themes of suffering discipleship). After recognizing this, Mark creates a motif of secrecy concerning miracles which he sprinkles throughout his gospel in order to advance his primary message of discipleship. If this is what Mark has done, he has done so in a haphazard and careless way. The motif of miracle secrecy does not accompany all of Jesus’ mighty works. In fact, 69
Theissen, Gospels in Context, 282–83. Theissen, Gospels in Context, 283. 71 Theissen, Gospels in Context, 283. 70
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instead of a motif of secrecy surrounding Jesus’ miracles, at times we nd one of revelation. In many miracle pericopes, the attempt at secrecy is violated and revelation is the result! Theissen’s theory concerning the “miracle secret” seems inadequate. Moreover, the miracle secret seems to be explained best by the exact opposite of Theissen’s proposal. Instead of softening a Christology of glory, the miracle secret serves as a foil to highlight it. Jesus’ deeds are so powerful that despite his best attempt to conceal them, he is unable to do so.72 If Theissen’s theory were correct, it seems that Mark went through an incredibly complicated process to construct a pastoral tract for discipleship, which raises the second critique of a discipleship shaping purpose of Mark’s gospel. If Mark felt his community had an inadequate view of discipleship, why did he choose the medium of a “gospel” to correct this view? Such a medium seems like an indirect way to accomplish his goal. Would not a letter, such as we nd in the Pauline corpus, or a homily, such as we nd in Hebrews, more effectively accomplish this task? By writing a gospel, which on the surface appears primarily to be about Jesus, the author seriously risked that his readers might miss his intended purpose. If Mark felt that this message was crucial for his audience, would he not safeguard it in a medium they would clearly understand? The third observation relates to the second. On the surface, Mark certainly seems to be about the person and work of Jesus and not directly about discipleship. The book opens with a statement indicating that it is the “beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, Son of God” (1:1). In virtually every pericope, Jesus is either the one doing or receiving the action of the story; and, when he is not, he is often commenting on the action being done. The narrative follows his life from the opening of his ministry to his death and resurrection. The simplest explanation for this evidence is that Mark is writing for the purpose of communicating something about Jesus not just about being a disciple of Jesus. Certainly discipleship is an important theme of Mark’s gospel, but it does not seem to be Mark’s primary purpose in writing. It fails to account for other dominant motifs in Mark. Also, a “gospel” about the life of Jesus does not seem to be the best medium for someone who is trying to address the issue of true discipleship. The much simpler conclusion is that Mark’s purpose has something to do with the person of Jesus. The motif of discipleship is best understood as a secondary theme, albeit, a theme that any theory regarding Mark’s purpose must account for.
72
Cf. Luz, “The Secrecy Motif” and Ebeling, Das Messiasgeheimnis und die Botschaft.
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1.5 Evangelistic Purpose: Robert H. Gundry Up to this point, all the theories we have encountered regarding Mark’s purpose have worked under the premise (and not without reason) that Mark wrote for a Christian audience. However, Robert Gundry has challenged this position, arguing that Mark wrote for an entirely pagan audience and had an evangelistic purpose. For Gundry, the gospel of Mark’s sole purpose is to present an apology for the cross to a Greco-Roman audience who abhored weakness and praised strength.73 Because of the shame attached to crucixion, a crucied messiah would be highly unattractive to the Greco-Roman world. Therefore, according to Gundry, Mark presents Jesus as a supremely powerful being through his magnetism, his authoritative teaching, his miraculous deeds, his ability to predict the future, and even his death in which he demonstrates great dignity and strength.74 Mark’s hope is that through this presentation of Jesus, he will be able to overcome the barrier of the cross that stands between a Gentile world and the Christian faith. Gundry’s work is distinct from contemporary Markan interpretation in two important areas: his view of Christology and his view of discipleship. He acknowledges that in Mark two seemingly competing christological perspectives exist: one that focuses on glory and one that focuses on the cross. However, contrary to the majority of interpreters, Gundry gives pride of place to the motif of glory, forcing the cross to be explained in light of glory.75 In rejecting a Christian audience for Mark, Gundry basically does away with the motif of discipleship as a Markan purpose. Any perceived teaching on discipleship is not for members of Mark’s community, but rather is for nonmembers. He seeks to make them aware of what lies ahead for those who choose to convert. Gundry’s presentation of Mark’s Christology has some validity. As discussed above, a Christology of glory is of major importance for the evangelist. When we analyze the content of Mark, material depicting a Christology of glory greatly outweighs material depicting a Christology of the cross. However, even though a Christology of glory is central to Gundry’s overall argument, it does not directly determine whether Mark wrote with an evangelistic purpose. In other words, even if we show that Mark’s primary christological program is one to establish the glory of Christ, we have not shown that Mark wrote for a non-Christian audience. A Christology of glory could just as easily serve the church as those outside the church. Therefore, we will leave the question of Christology for now (though it will become important in 73
Gundry, Apology, 1, 1019, 1026. Gundry, Apology, 5–15. 75 In this sense, Gundry is similar to Wrede and Bultmann in their afrmation of a “divine-man” Christology in Mark, though Gundry does not use the “divine-man” concept specically. 74
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the following chapters) and focus on the implications Gundry’s claim has for the theme of discipleship and instruction for the Christian believer. Gundry seems to be open to the greatest criticism on the question of discipleship. There are a number of elements related to the theme of discipleship whose presence seems better explained by an intended Christian audience than a non-Christian one. The rst of these is the motif of the disciples’ failure. For Gundry, this motif only serves as a foil to highlight the greatness of Jesus’ person and deeds.76 While the disciples’ failure might serve to magnify Jesus’ greatness, it also appears designed to say something to the disciples in Mark’s own community. As a foil, it can both highlight the greatness of Jesus and warn against the spiritual blindness and failures of the Markan community. Evidence that this motif serves the latter purpose is in the specic nature of some of its elements. Rather than make general statements about their failure to comprehend truth or about their lack of spiritual discernment, Mark specically critiques the disciples. The specic nature of some of these comments leads us to conclude that they serve a purpose greater than simply being foils for highlighting Jesus’ greatness. One such example comes after Jesus calms the sea (4:35–41). Here it is specically the disciples’ lack of faith in the person of Jesus that is critiqued. Another example comes after Jesus has walked on water (6:45–52). The narrator specically ties the disciples’ failure to recognize Jesus’ power (and presumably the identity of him who wields it) to their hard-heartedness. To say that these critiques serve only to highlight Jesus’ mighty acts but do not at the same time make a demand for a disciples’ faith in Jesus, seems to be turning a blind eye to the obvious. That those failing to understand Jesus are his disciples rather than non-believers further leads us to conclude that Mark has the blindness of believers in mind and not that of unbelievers.77 It seems that the motif of failing disciples, at least at some level, serves as a corrective for failing disciples of Mark’s community. This conclusion weakens Gundry’s position that Mark’s purpose was to compose a tract solely for non-believers. We must also look at Mark’s specic teaching on discipleship. In Mark 8:34–38, Jesus initiates rigorous requirements for discipleship, namely to deny oneself and to take up one’s cross. A true disciple must be willing to give up his/her life for Jesus’ sake. For Gundry, this passage is not intended for those who are already followers of Jesus; i.e., it does not tell current followers how to follow him better, but rather it tells non-followers how to start following him. As evidence for this claim, Gundry notes the presence of the crowds whom, along with the disciples, are also hearing this teaching. But it cannot be ignored that the believing disciples are included in this group and that Jesus’ requirements are stated after Peter is rebuked for misunderstanding 76
Gundry, Apology, 11, 241, 504, 508. See a similar critique by Joel F. Williams, “Is Mark’s Gospel an Apology for the Cross?” BBR 12.1 (2002): 109–110. 77
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Jesus’ future suffering and death. Gundry downplays the connection between this teaching on discipleship and the episode of Peter’s rebuke because such a link strongly indicates that the teaching is intended for misguided disciples.78 But the narrative clearly makes such a link. Jesus rebukes Peter in front of the disciples and then calls both those disciples and the crowds in order to instruct them on the true nature of discipleship. The theme of suffering and death that runs through these two episodes closely links them together. It seems unnecessarily restrictive to suggest that Mark does not intend this teaching for members of his community, but rather only to prepare potential converts for what lies ahead of them. In addition, such a teaching would be perfectly suited for believers who were experiencing or anticipating persecution. The chapters that follow these verses, 9 and 10, contain explicit teaching regarding discipleship: the need for prayer in the exorcising of demons (9:28–29), the need for a disciple to be the servant of all (9:33–37), the dangers of sin (9:42–50), teaching on divorce (10:1–12), receiving the kingdom of God as a child (10:13–16), possessions as an obstacle to salvation (10:17–27), and rewards for faithful disciples (10:28–31). For Gundry, it is the authority of these teachings that is important rather than their actual content: “The point is not discipleship and communal life, but explosive force. Jesus teaches with an authority that shatters norms.” 79 But why must Gundry exclude the purpose of discipleship from these passages? Clearly these teachings would have value for the members of Mark’s community (as they have had for the church over the last two millennia), and it is odd to think that Mark did not intend for such value to be found. It seems that because Gundry is committed to Mark as a document for unbelievers, he is forced to explain away the obvious, namely, that these teachings on discipleship and proper Christian living are intended for a believing community.80 Another piece of evidence that indicates that Mark is written for believers is the warning regarding false messiahs and false prophets found in Mark 13. These warnings appear to be directed to believers and likely speak to realities that Mark’s readers are actually facing at the time of Mark’s composition. It is difcult to imagine such warnings being directed toward unbelieving pagans who have not yet accepted Jesus as the Messiah. If they had not yet accepted Jesus as Messiah, what reference point would they have for recognizing false messiahs? In the pluralist Greco-Roman world, would warnings concerning false messiahs even raise an eyebrow? Gundry takes the whole of Mark 13 as evidence for Jesus’ predictive power, and it may in fact serve this role. However, he fails to account for how some of the specic details of the discourse (such as the warnings mentioned above) t with his claim that Mark was written for non-believers. 78
Gundry, Apology, 433–34. Gundry, Apology, 516. 80 Again see William’s similar critique, “An Apology for the Cross,” 113. 79
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We have demonstrated that there is much evidence to suggest that Mark’s intended audience was a believing Christian community. The dominant theme of discipleship is hard to reconcile with the position that Mark wrote only for non-believers. While Gundry may be right in his conclusions regarding Christology (such conclusions will be examined in the following chapters) and the awe that many parts of Mark might inspire among non-believers, he is misguided in his conclusion that Mark was written for an exclusively nonbelieving audience. Evangelism, therefore, is an inadequate explanation for the purpose of Mark’s gospel.81
1.6 Socio-Political Purpose Up to this point, all the theories we have examined have sought to understand Mark’s purpose in light of inter-church realities: the need to preserve the historical traditions of Jesus, the need to overcome false or dangerous theological ideas espoused by false teachers in the church, the need to encourage struggling disciples, and the need to win over others to the faith of the church. We will now examine those theories that see Mark’s purpose originating outside the church. These theories share the basic premise that Mark is writing in response to social and/or political realities confronting the church. These theories fall into two categories: (1) those proposing a defensive purpose, that is, a purpose of defending the church from dangerous socio-political realities it might face, and (2) those proposing a subversive purpose, that is, a purpose seeking to subvert dangerous socio-political realities. 1.6.1 Defensive Purpose Here we will examine the works of S. G. F. Brandon and Hendrika Roskam. Both interpreters argue that Mark wrote his gospel in order to protect his community from dangerous socio-political realities. S. G. F. Brandon In his work The Fall of Jerusalem and the Christian Church, Brandon examines how the destruction of Jerusalem affected the church, and he devotes one chapter to Mark’s gospel.82 He locates the second gospel in Rome shortly after the destruction of Jerusalem. Mark’s catalyst for composing a gospel, he argues, is the socio-political realities that the destruction of Jerusalem brought about in Rome. Brandon claims that in the wake of the Jewish war 81
For a further critique on the whole of Gundry’s commentary, see Williams, “An Apology for the Cross?” 97–122; Joel Marcus, review of Robert Gundry, Mark: A Commentary on His Apology for the Cross, JTS 45 (1994): 648–54; Rudolf Pesch, review of Robert Gundry, Mark: A Commentary on His Apology for the Cross, Bib 76 (1995): 107–15. 82 Brandon, Fall of Jerusalem, esp. 185–205.
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and the great triumph of Vespasian and Titus, anti-Semitic sentiments would be running high in Rome. Because of their close association with Judaism, Christians would certainly fear the repercussions of such sentiments. That the founder of their movement was sentenced to death for treason against Rome would not help matters. Against this backdrop, Mark has crafted his gospel as an apology that seeks to distance the Christian movement from its Jewish roots and present Jesus in a pro-Roman light. Brandon notes a number of elements in Mark that seem to support such a historical situation. He argues that Jesus’ continued confrontation with and condemnation of Jewish ofcials and religious leaders in Jerusalem is a polemic intended to distance Jesus from those who were responsible for the Jewish revolt (3:21–30; 7:1–23; 11:12–33; 12:1–44; 14:43–65). Also he argues that Mark downplayed any connection between Jesus and nationalistic messianic aspirations of the Jews. As evidence he offers Jesus’ question to the scribes, “How can the scribes say that the Messiah is the Son of David?” (12:35–37). Mark also seems to elevate Galilee over Judea (see the discussion above on Marxsen and Kelber) – another theme Brandon sees as separating Jesus from the seat of revolution. Brandon portrays the question of paying tribute to Caesar (12:13–17) as an attempt to paint Jesus in a pro-Roman light. In essence, Mark claims that Jesus was never a dissident, but rather supported paying taxes to Caesar. Finally, Brandon argues that Mark’s passion narrative rejects the notion that the Romans killed Jesus for sedition and instead places the blame for the death of an innocent man on power hungry Jewish leaders. Though some of this evidence supports Brandon’s theory, some is tentative at best. First, Brandon’s claim that Mark separates Jesus from all nationalist/political messianic expectations is inconsistent with Mark 9:46-52, where, when healing Bartimaeus, Jesus seems to accept the title “Son of David.” Likewise, during the “triumphal entry” into Jerusalem, Jesus accepts the association with the “kingdom of our ancestor David” (11:1–11). Both of these passages seem to afrm such political messianic expectations. Brandon’s claim that promoting Galilee over Judea serves to distance Jesus from the bed of revolution is implausible, for Galilee was as much a part of the revolution as Jerusalem! In fact, Josephus himself was a general of Jewish forces in Galilee. It is most unlikely that Mark’s audience would associate Galilee with peace over against Jerusalem as the seat of rebellion. Certainly those whom Mark is trying to persuade would be aware that the whole of Palestine, and not simply Jerusalem, was involved in rebellion. Though Jesus’ response to the question regarding the payment of taxes could be understood as pro-Roman, some interpreters have argued that it is actually anti-Roman.83 If Mark was writing with the primary objective of 83
See Richard Horsley, Hearing the Whole Story: The Politics of Plot in Mark’s Gospel (Louisville: WJK, 2001), 36, 43; idem, Jesus and the Spiral of Violence: Popular Jewish Resistance in Roman Palestine (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 306–17. However, the
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presenting Jesus as pro-Roman, would he not make this pericope much less ambiguous? This ambiguous passage, which has interpreters divided, cannot support a conclusion that the pericope was intended as a bastion of proRoman sentiment. Though some of Brandon’s evidence supports his proposed historical situation, important pieces of it do not. As will be discussed more below, Brandon’s theory also inadequately explains a number of Markan features, further weakening his theory. We will discuss this critique after examining the second theory related to the notion that Mark writes his gospel as a defense. H. N. Roskam Quite recently, Hendrika Roskam presented a theory for the purpose of Mark’s gospel similar to Brandon’s in her work The Purpose of the Gospel of Mark in Its Historical and Social Context.84 Like Brandon, Roskam dates Mark’s gospel after the destruction of Jerusalem. Unlike Brandon, Roskam places Mark’s publication in Galilee rather than Rome. According to her theory, Mark is writing to a community being persecuted or anticipating future persecution. This persecution comes from both Jewish and Roman authorities (13:9). Roskam argues that Jewish authorities often took it upon themselves to punish those they believed might raise the ire of the Roman government. Jewish authorities quickly addressed people who were a threat to public order and at times directly handed them over to Roman authorities. According to Roskam, this reality placed the Christians in Galilee in a dangerous position. The Christian community easily could have been recognized as a subversive and disruptive group. It had likely broken away from the Jewish synagogue, and it followed the teachings of a man the Romans had crucied for sedition. That Mark’s community followed a person called “Christ” is a fact that Romans might perceive as carrying dangerous nationalistic connotations. Roskam claims that these facts about the Christian community would have
vast number of interpreters support Brandon’s claim that this pericope promotes the payment of taxes to Caesar and, therefore, could be considered pro-Roman. For example, see J. D. M. Derrett, “Render to Caesar . . .” in Law in the New Testament (London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1970), 313–38; F. F. Bruce, “Render to Caesar” in Jesus and the Politics of His Day (ed. E. Bammel and C. F. D. Moule; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984), 249–63; Evans, Mark, 240–248; Gundry, Apology, 694–95; R. T. France, The Gospel of Mark (NIGTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 464–69; J. R. Donahue and Daniel J. Harrington, The Gospel of Mark (vol. 2; SP; Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 2002), 343–48; Joachim Gnilka, Das Evangelium nach Markus (vol. 2; EKKNT; Zurich: Neukirchener Verlag, 1979), 150ff; D. Lührmann, Das Markusevangelium (Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1987). Its ambiguity, however, should keep us from placing signicant weight upon this pericope. 84 H. N. Roskam, The Purpose of the Gospel of Mark in Its Historical and Social Context (NTS 114; Leiden: Brill, 2004).
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been enough to cause the Jewish authorities to suppress this community and possibly hand its members over to the Romans. Again according to Roskam’s theory, it is in response to this dangerous situation that Mark crafts his gospel. She acknowledges that Mark does maintain many of the christological titles from the pre-Markan tradition, i.e., “Son of God,” “Son of Man,” “Christ/Messiah,” and even “Son of David.” For Mark, Jesus is also the inaugurator of a new kingdom. However, according to Roskam, Mark works overtime to reject any political connotations connected with these titles and with the concept of kingdom. He diffuses nationalistic expectations by following Peter’s confession with comments about his imminent death. After his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, Jesus does not establish his kingdom, but predicts the fall of the Jews and their temple. For Roskam, the Markan secrecy motifs also serve the purpose of diffusing the belief that Jesus had any political agenda. Like Brandon, Roskam sees the passion narrative as an effort to demonstrate that Jesus was never actually a Roman traitor, though he was crucied as one. Jewish authorities made these false claims of sedition to cover up their true motives for killing Jesus, namely, their fear that he would undermine their authority. Roskam’s biggest weakness is perhaps her reconstruction of the situation in post-70 Galilee. Very little evidence exists regarding Galilean Christians, and there is absolutely no evidence indicating that they experienced or were in danger of persecution. Likewise, Roskam’s claim that Jewish authorities regularly took the initiative to suppress subversive activity is based entirely on questionable evidence. Roskam gives only one example of Jewish authorities in Galilee interceding in order to hold Roman aggression at bay. This example comes from 52 C.E., almost twenty years before Roskam dates Mark. She gives a number of examples from the 60s, yet all of these examples come from Jerusalem during the time leading up to the Jewish revolt. Two examples actually come from the early 70s, the time in which Roskam claims Mark wrote his gospel, but they take place, not in Galilee, but in Alexandria and Cyrene. None of these examples directly supports Roskam’s claim that in post-70 Galilee, leading Jews regularly took it upon themselves to suppress subversive groups or activities. Roskam’s reconstruction of post-70 Galilee is mere speculation. Brandon and Roskam’s basic proposal (that Mark presents a non-threatening/non-political Jesus in hopes to protect his community from Roman reprisal) is open to a number of critiques. They try to establish this position by claiming that Mark removed from Jesus any implications of sedition or the revolutionary desire to establish an independent Israel. It is certainly true that Mark’s Jesus does not have immediate political aspirations, but this does not mean that Mark’s picture of Jesus would not threaten the Roman political world. Far from placating Roman authorities, Mark seems to use language and ideas that strike at the heart of Roman politics. For Mark, Jesus is the Christ
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and true “Son of God.” As Roskam claims, Mark’s Jesus is the representative of God’s authority on earth! Though this identity may not manifest itself as an immediate threat to Roman safety and sovereignty, it does challenge Roman ideology. For Romans, Caesar was the ultimate authority. Recognition of this fact signied loyalty to Rome, while failure to make such recognition was considered treason. Reading Mark’s claims about the person of Jesus would not put the minds of Roman authorities at ease, but would likely heighten their awareness of a threat. Roman authorities would perceive titles such as “Messiah,” “Christ,” and “Son of God” negatively, despite what Roskam describes as attempts to de-politicize them. Likewise, Jesus’ proclamation of a coming kingdom could hardly be seen as innocuous to Roman authorities. Even though this kingdom did not manifest itself during Jesus’ lifetime, Mark boldly proclaims that it will do so someday. Jesus will return in power as the glorious “Son of Man,” and he will establish an everlasting kingdom.85 The message of such a kingdom is a direct affront to the Roman Empire which did not take threats to its sovereignty lightly. Any attempt to de-politicize this kingdom language, apart from removing it entirely, would fail to placate Roman sensibilities. Both Brandon and Roskam should be commended for taking seriously the socio-political realities that hypothetically faced Mark and his readers, and for incorporating such realities into their theories regarding Mark’s purpose. However, it seems that neither Brandon’s theory nor Roskam’s theory – both of which claim Mark wrote in order to placate the dangerous suspicions of the outside world – are compatible with the realities of Mark’s content. The gospel carries a bold message, and its claims would startle any rst-century reader and likely draw the ire of any Roman ofcial. Therefore, it is unlikely that Mark wrote his gospel in order to defend the church from animosity or threats of persecution. It appears that, rather than serving a defensive purpose, Mark might more likely serve a subversive purpose. It is this suggested purpose that we now examine. 1.6.2 Subversive Purpose: Richard Horsley Here we will examine the recent monograph of Richard Horsley Hearing the Whole Story: The Politics of Plot in Mark’s Gospel.86 Ultimately, Horsley argues that Mark seeks to undermine the socio-political realities of his community. In his introduction, Horsley identies a key error in the thinking of twenty-rst century Western readers of the New Testament. He notes the Western concept of separation between religion and politics and that many modern readers force this separation onto the New Testament text: “[M]odern 85 Though the idea of kingdom is not expressed in Mark’s apocalyptic “Son of Man” sayings, it is certainly implied if we accept Dan 7:13–14 as their background. 86 Horsley, Politics of Plot.
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Westerners have grown accustomed to thinking of Mark and other biblical literature as (only or primarily) about religion. Mark’s story, however, is about politics and economics as inseparable from religion.”87 Yet after making this important insight, Horsley goes to the opposite extreme. For Horsley, Mark is entirely about politics and economics and has nothing to do with theology or religion: “Whatever theological doctrine is supposedly found in Mark, however, is the creation of theologians. The Gospel of Mark itself can now be recognized as a story . . . ostensibly about historical events in ancient Galilee and Judea under Roman imperial rule.”88 Horsley sees Mark as a document (which began as an oral proclamation) that gives voice to a colonized and oppressed people who live in Galilee. Mark presents Jesus as a Moses/ Elijah type prophet who proclaims and brings about restoration in the villages of Galilee. Mark’s purpose is to subvert the economic oppression and exploitation by Roman authorities and their pawns among the Judean leadership through encouraging people to continue the renewal Jesus began. This renewal involved instilling egalitarianism (social, political, and economic) in both villages and families. This work is to continue until the heavenly Son of Man returns (not to be confused with the earthly Jesus) and brings the nal end to political and economic oppression.89 Accordingly, Horsley claims that Mark has no interest in the classical themes of Christology or discipleship. Any perception of these themes he argues results from the reader’s social location in theological institutions.90 However, Horsley attempts some questionable exegetical maneuvers to eliminate traces of what most interpreters have recognized as major Markan themes.91 In eliminating Mark’s christological interest, Horsley must start with the opening verse of the gospel, which is clearly christologically laden. He deals with this verse by simply removing it from Mark’s gospel and claiming that it was a later addition to the text.92 However, such a claim has absolutely no textual evidence. The claim is even more unlikely when we consider that dropping 1:1 from the text leaves the book to open with or “just as it has been written.” This is an awkward way for Mark to begin 87
Horsley, Politics of Plot, x. Horsley, Politics of Plot, x. 89 For interpretations similar to that of Horsley, which see Mark as an anti-colonial or anti-imperial document, see Ched Myers, Binding the Strong Man: A Political Reading of Mark’s Story of Jesus (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1992) and Herman C. Waetjen, A Reordering of Power: A Socio-Political Reading of Mark’s Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1989). 90 Horsley, Politics of Plot, x. 91 A number of the specic critiques that are made here are indebted to Robert Gundry’s excellent and thorough review of Horsley’s work; “Richard A. Horsley’s Hearing the Whole Story: A Critical Review of Its Postcolonial Slant,” JSNT 26 (2003): 131–49. 92 Horsley, Politics of Plot, 250. 88
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his narrative and is inconsistent with the grammatical style throughout his gospel. Every instance in which Mark uses a clause it always refers to something preceding and not following it.93 Horsley’s efforts to remove 1:1, a strong indicator of Mark’s christological interests, seem misguided. To t his understanding of Jesus as a prophet like Moses and Elijah, Horsley claims that the transguration story (9:2–8) places Jesus as an equal of these great gures.94 Peter’s request to build dwellings for all three of them is said to conrm this claim. However, the text seems to indicate that Peter’s idea is a misguided one. He is described as terried and not knowing what to say. The divine voice also makes Horsley’s position untenable by declaring Jesus to be God’s beloved son, certainly placing him above Moses and Elijah.95 The double afrmation by God of Jesus’ divine sonship, both at his baptism and his transguration is strong evidence of Mark’s christological interest. Horsley also claims that Mark either does not consider Jesus the Messiah at all or that he has a “strongly qualied” understanding of what “Messiah” means.96 He argues that Jesus rebuked Peter’s confession of Jesus as Messiah, denying any messianic identity. But Horsley misreads the text. After Peter’s confession, Jesus commands his disciples not to tell anyone this information, implying that the information is actually true. Jesus’ rebuke of Peter does not have to do with Jesus’ identity as the Messiah, but rather with Peter’s resistance to Jesus’ fate in Jerusalem. Jesus is clearly proclaimed as Messiah in Mark both at the beginning of the gospel (1:1) and at what appears to be its apex (8:29). Likewise, there are many indications throughout the text that Jesus is identied as the Messiah (9:9–13; 10:46–52; 11:1–11; 13:5–6, 21–22; 14:61–62).97 These examples demonstrate the type of exegetical gymnastics Horsley must perform in order to eliminate what appears to be a christological interest in Mark. As noted above, Mark’s purpose is closely related to Christology. The question of Jesus’ identity resurfaces again and again. Mark repeatedly makes christological claims about Jesus at crucial points of the narrative. The entire book revolves around the person and work of Jesus. Horsley’s rejection 93
See Gundry, “Postcolonial Slant,” 133. Horsley, Politics of Plot, 107–8. 95 See Gundry, “Postcolonial Slant,” 133–34. 96 Horsley, Politics of Plot, 250–51. 97 Horsley argues that Mark rejects the title “Son of David” and the messianism which it implies in 12:35–37 – the pericope of the question regarding David’s Son. For Horsley, these counteract what seems to be the application of this messianic title to Jesus in 10:46–52 and 11:1–11. However, there is no clear reason to make this conclusion. Jesus’ recasting of the title “Son of David” is not a rejection of his messianic identity. Likewise, when the title is applied to Jesus in the above mentioned verses, Mark makes no effort to qualify or counter it. The reader is left to assume that such an identication of Jesus is accurate and that Jesus is the expected “Son of David,” or the Messiah. 94
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of Markan Christology is not honest with the text and too easily disregards valuable results that skillful interpreters have produced over the last century. Horsley also claims that Jesus’ teaching and call to true discipleship in Mark is not directed to individuals but to village communities.98 It is part of his attempt to bring renewal to these communities, not a call to follow the person and way of Jesus. People will suffer not for their allegiance to the person of Jesus as much as for their commitment to carrying out the program of renewal which he started. However, many examples from Mark illustrate that the evangelist is interested in people’s personal commitment to Jesus himself not simply his movement. People are called to actually follow after him – Peter, James, and John (1:16–20), Levi (2:13–17), the twelve disciples (3:13–19), and the rich man (10:17–31)–which indicates more of a commitment to his person than a commitment to his message. He calls people both to lose their lives and to abandon their families and possessions for “my sake” (8:35; 10:29), not simply for his cause or movement. He warns against followers being ashamed not only of his message/words but of himself as a person (8:38). Jesus’ call also often seems to have individuals in mind rather than whole communities. As noted above, Levi and the rich young man are examples. He often addresses his audience with phrases like “if anyone” (4:9, 23; 8:34; 9:42) or “whoever” (3:35; 9:35; 10:37, 41; 10:44) indicating that an individual response to his message is as valued as a communal one. The parable of the sower also evidences the importance of individual responses rather than communal ones.99 Again, Horsley’s claim that Mark is not concerned about individual discipleship and commitment to the person of Jesus is inconsistent with the text. What is to be made of Horsley’s positive claims about Mark’s purpose, such as to proffer an egalitarian message, to aid in the renewal of families and village communities, and to address economic concerns? Horsley contrasts the failures of male disciples with the success of female disciples as evidence for Mark’s message of sexual egalitarianism. But again Horsley strains the text to reach his conclusions. He notes the usual failures interpreters have recognized in the disciples, e.g., failure to understand parables (4:13–20), failure to have faith (5:35–41), failure to stay awake and pray (14:32–42), and failure to stay faithful to Jesus in his greatest hour of need (14:43–51; 66–72). If these examples are not enough, Horsley claims that the twelve never nd out about Jesus’ resurrection and, therefore, do not become a part of the continued gospel story in Galilee. But this is inconsistent with Jesus’ prediction in 13:9–13 that the disciples will be persecuted and that they will proclaim the gospel to all nations. It unnaturally presumes that the resurrected Jesus’ request of the twelve to meet him in Galilee is not accomplished.100 As we have noted 98
Horsley, Politics of Plot, 40. For this critique, see Gundry, “Postcolonial Slant,” 145. 100 See Gundry, “Postcolonial Slant,” 141. 99
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before, the disciples are also portrayed in a positive light at many points, a fact that seriously weakens Horsley’s suggested contrast.101 Horsley spends signicant time demonstrating how Mark, at the expense of male disciples, lifts up females as exemplary disciples. Horsley claims that the woman with an issue of blood for twelve years and the twelve-year-old girl whom Jesus raised from the dead represent the renewal of Israel. While this conclusion may be correct, Horsley’s interpretation goes beyond the actual text when he claims that this pericope evidences the egalitarian role of women in the renewed Israel.102 Horsley also points to the women who appear in the resurrection narrative. They are described as “paradigms of faithful understanding.”103 But they, like all the other disciples, are ignorant of Jesus’ resurrection, for they are going to anoint what they anticipate to be a dead body. When they arrive and receive the angel’s message, they respond in fear and tell no one. If Horsley is going to claim that the twelve disciples never receive the news of Jesus’ resurrection, it is only because these exemplary female disciples fail to carry out their commission. He argues that it is only these females who are aware of the resurrected Jesus and so it is up to them to carry on Jesus’ work in Galilee. Yet this too is inconsistent with the text. The angel does not tell the women to meet Jesus in Galilee, but instructs them to tell his eleven disciples to do so. There is also no talk of continuing Jesus’ work in Galilee. The purpose of going there was to see the resurrected Jesus!104 It is certainly true that women have a signicant position in Mark, e.g., the Syrophoenician woman who demonstrates great faith (7:24–30), the widow who offers at the temple all she had (12:41–44), and the sinful woman who anoints Jesus’ feet (14:3–9). However, it is quite another thing to argue that Mark promotes an egalitarian message by lifting up female disciples over their male counterparts. Mark may have some egalitarian interests but these interests seem ancillary rather than primary to Mark’s overall purpose. Along with sexual egalitarianism, Horsley claims that Mark bears a message of political and economic egalitarianism as well. Mark’s Jesus is subverting the political power players – Roman and Jewish authorities – and advancing a message of economic egalitarianism in contrast to the elite’s program of economic oppression. Horsley uniquely interprets many Markan 101 Horsley does note the positive portrayal of the disciples in rst half of Mark but focuses on their failure in the second half. However, it is in the second half (10:28–31) in which Jesus promises that they will be rewarded for all they have sacriced for his sake! He also predicts the future suffering of James and John. Additionally, Jesus also tells the disciples that they will stand before governors and kings as a testimony to them on behalf of Jesus (9:9). This is not a prediction of failure, but of future success and faithful discipleship. 102 See Gundry, “Postcolonial Slant,” 141–42. 103 Horsley, “Politics of Plot,” 2. 104 Similar critiques are made by Gundry, “Postcolonial Slant,” 142–45.
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elements to advance this theory. He sees signicance in the fact that Mark has the mustard seed growing into a shrub and not a tree, the tree being an imperial image. But Mark does not intend the presence of a shrub to be anti-imperial. In fact, the shrub is described as greater than all other shrubs, which for Mark, represent kingdoms. Mark’s contrast is not between shrubs and trees, (imperialism vs. non-imperialism) but between great shrubs and lesser shrubs (God’s empire/kingdom vs. all other kingdoms). Mark is not anti-imperial,but he is advancing the imperialism of both God’s kingdom and the one who bears it, Jesus.105 Horsley argues that the pericope of the rich man serves Mark’s egalitarian purpose by excluding the wealthy (and the illegitimate way in which Horsley assumes they achieved their wealth) from the kingdom of God. But this misreads Mark’s text. Jesus qualies his statement concerning the salvation of the wealthy by saying, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible” (10:27). If this pericope functions as Horsley claims, Mark’s qualication is counter-productive.106 Horsley also makes a strong connection between the Jewish authorities and the Roman authorities who backed them. However, such a connection is not found in Mark’s text. In fact, in his passion narrative, Mark clearly places the guilt of Jesus’ death on the shoulders of the Jewish authorities while he seemingly washes Roman hands of it (see Brandon and Roskam above). Not only do they not conspire together but also the Jewish authorities must rely on manipulation to bring about the response they desire from the Romans (15:615). Horsley may be right about the historical reality of Jesus’ day, but this is not the reality Mark expresses.107 For Horsley, Jesus’ teachings, exorcisms, and healings are bringing about the economic liberation that he is proclaiming, but how he is doing so is uncertain. Economic oppression is experienced through heavy taxation and tithes levied by Roman and Jewish authorities. How do Jesus’ teachings, healings, or exorcisms alleviate this oppression and bring about the desired egalitarian economic reality? Horsley offers one example of how these actions will strike at the sources of the oppression: “Jesus provides the people with healing of leprosy or forgiveness of sin that makes it unnecessary for them to obtain those from ruling institutions, which would cost them some of their precious economic resources.”108 Though this relief would be of some help to 105 See Tat-siong Benny Liew, “Tyranny, Boundary, and Might: Colonial Mimicry in Mark’s Gospel,” JSNT 73 (1999): 7–31. In this article, Liew argues against the claims that Mark is anti-imperial or that Mark rejects in principle the imperial ideology of Rome. Rather than reject such ideology, Mark transfers it from Roman and Jewish authorities to Jesus and his coming kingdom. See also Gundry, “Postcolonial Slant,” 136. 106 See this critique in Gundry, “Postcolonial Slant,” 137. 107 See Gundry’s similar critique, “Postcolonial Slant,” 140. 108 Horsley, Politics of Plot, 109.
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a number of the oppressed people, would it really be enough to bring about the radical egalitarian state that, according to Horsley, Mark is seeking?109 A second example is the pericope regarding tribute to Caesar. Horsley interprets Jesus’ response to the tribute question as a negative reply: “‘Giving to Caesar what belongs to Caesar’ means they should not pay tribute, since according to Israelite tradition everything belongs to God and nothing to Caesar.”110 But if Mark actually intends this meaning of Jesus’ words, why does he not make this meaning clearer? Why is there no uproar from his opponents or the Roman authorities for this sedition? Likewise, there is a great precedent in Israelite tradition for supporting the occupying ruler.111 Horsley may be right that in its original context these words of Jesus were a subtle way to speak out against taxation by Caesar (though this is debatable), but that Mark intends to communicate this message seems unlikely.112 Though Horsley seems creatively to nd an anti-imperial economic agenda throughout the whole of Mark’s gospel, it often comes at the expense of what the reader actually nds on the surface of the Markan text. These texts seem to say very little about economics or an egalitarian society. That elements of these themes exist is not enough to overturn the more readily identied themes of Christology and discipleship. Horsley has certainly challenged the readers of Mark to look at the gospel in a new and unique way by raising the reader’s awareness of the political realties that may lie behind it. However, in offering a unied and cohesive purpose for why Mark was written, Horsley fails because his theory does not explain much of the content of the second gospel.
1.7 Conclusions After surveying and evaluating the numerous theories regarding the purpose of Mark’s gospel, we offer a number of conclusions and trajectories that will guide our present study. First, we conclude that Mark did not write his gospel simply for the sake of preserving history, and his purpose must be found in the realities facing Mark and his audience. Second, we conclude that Christology plays a primary role in Mark’s gospel, and therefore, is likely related to the gospel’s overall purpose. Third, while we afrm that Mark’s 109 Gundry astutely notes that in Mark 1:44 Jesus requires the man whose leprosy he had healed to give an offering to the priest for his cleansing! See Gundry, “Postcolonial Slant,” 136. 110 Horsley, Politics of Plot, 43. 111 See J. D. M. Derrett, “Render to Caesar,” 325–27, for discussion on such traditions, in particular his discussion on Ecclesiastes 8:2. 112 See n. 83 above for the diversity of opinion on this pericope. See Gundry’s comments on Horsley’s use of this pericope; Gundry, “Postcolonial Slant,” 139.
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Christology is in some sense “corrective,” we reject the notion that Mark contains two competing Christologies, (e.g., a Christology of power and a Christology of the cross), one of which is correcting the other. Fourth, we conclude that while discipleship and eschatology are important Markan themes, they are secondary themes and cannot by themselves explain why Mark composed his Gospel. Yet, while these themes are secondary, any theory regarding Mark’s purpose must be able to account for them. Fifth, we conclude that Mark wrote his gospel primarily for a Christian audience. Sixth, we conclude that in seeking a Markan purpose, consideration must be given to the socio-political realities that face Mark and his readers, realities that originated outside of the church. However, continuity must exist between these socio-political realities and Mark’s theological content (see the critique above of Brandon and Roskam). Similarly, recognition of the former must not supplant recognition of the latter (see the critique above of Horsley).
Chapter 2
Mark’s Date and Provenance 2.1 Introduction If in our search for a Markan purpose we are to take seriously the historical situation of the evangelist and his readers, we must rst determine Mark’s date and provenance. We will begin with the question of Mark’s date and then proceed to question of Mark’s provenance.
2.2 Dating Mark’s Gospel There seems to be a general consensus among more recent interpreters of Mark that the gospel was composed sometime between 65 and 75 C.E. The critical question regarding Mark’s date has been whether it should be placed before or after Jerusalem’s destruction (70 C.E.) within the aforementioned parameters. However, throughout the history of critical Markan interpretation, attempts to date Mark’s gospel have varied widely, with some proposing a date as early as 42 C.E.1 and others pushing its composition into the second century.2 While the latter position nds virtually no support among current interpreters, the former has a handful of contemporary adherents. We will begin our discussion by addressing this minority position, and we will 1
The most recent example of such a date is James Crossley, The Date of Mark’s Gospel: Insight from the Law in Earliest Christianity (JSNTSup 266; London: T & T Clark, 2004). Other examples of interpreters who argue for an early date for Mark include J. A. T. Robinson, Redating the New Testament (London: SCM Press, 1976), 106–17; J. W. Wenham, Redating Matthew, Mark, and Luke (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1991), 136–82; Earle Ellis, “The Date and Provenance of Mark’s Gospel,” in The Four Gospels 1992 ed. F. van Segbroek (Leuven: Leuven University Press/Peeters, 1992), 801–815; C. P. Thiede, The Earliest Gospel Manuscript? The Qumran Fragment 7Q5 and Its Signicance for New Testament Studies (Exeter: Paternoster Press, 1992); M. Casey, Aramaic Sources of Mark’s Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998). 2 F. C. Baur, Das Markusevangelium nach seinem Ursprung und Charakter: Nebst einem Anhang über das Evangelium Marcion’s (Tübingen: L. F. Fues, 1851), 110. For other interpreters who place Mark in the second century, see James Moffatt, Introduction to the Literature of the New Testament (3rd ed.; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1918), 213.
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determine whether the consensus date of 65 C.E. for Mark’s lower limit is legitimate. We will then turn our attention to Mark’s relationship to the destruction of the Jerusalem temple and whether its composition preceded or followed this event. 2.2.1 An Early Date for Mark (Pre-65 C.E.): The External Evidence More signicant external evidence speaks to the question of Mark’s date than the date of any other gospel. A number of witnesses from the early church address the origin of Mark’s gospel and give information related to its date. But the value of this evidence is disputed. Some of these witnesses contradict one another. Their motives and the historical accuracy of their testimony are often questioned. Even the meanings of the testimonies are debated. Here we will examine these early witnesses and attempt to ascertain what value their testimony actually has and to what extent it is helpful in determining Mark’s date. The earliest testimony relevant to Mark’s date comes from Irenaeus. Now Matthew published among the Hebrews a written gospel also in their own tongue, while Peter and Paul were preaching in Rome and founding the church. But after their death Mark also, the disciple and interpreter of Peter, himself handed down to us in writing the things which were preached by Peter. (Against Heresies 3.1.1–3)3
There are two challenges in interpreting this passage of Irenaeus. The rst is discerning the meaning of the word (literally translated as “departure”). Debate centers on whether this word should be taken literally, meaning that Peter and Paul departed to another location, or as a euphemism, meaning that Peter and Paul died. Clearly if the latter understanding of the word is accepted, then Irenaeus seems to have established a lower limit for the date of Mark, that is, sometime after the death of Peter and Paul during the Neronian persecution (ca. 64 C.E.).4 But if the former understanding is accepted, Irenaeus’ testimony is of little value in dating Mark. In an attempt to refute the euphemistic understanding, Earle Ellis has claimed that Irenaeus does not commonly use to refer to death.5 He notes that in Book III of Against Heresies, Irenaeus refers to “death” thirtyeight times using the word (or its Latin equivalent mors).6 He questions why in this one instance Irenaeus would alter his usual practice. But this evidence is misleading. Very few of the thirty-eight references to “death,” which Ellis highlights, would even make sense if replaced by the euphemism “departure” (e.g., Ag. Her. 3.12.13. “those, therefore, who delievered their 3
For the English translation, see Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 5.82–3, Lake, LCL. For traditions concerning the martyrdom of Peter and Paul see 1 Clem. 5.1–7; 6.1; Ign. Rom. 4.2–3; Iren. Ag. Her. 3.3.2. 5 Ellis, “Date and Provenance,” 805–15. 6 Ellis, “Date and Provenance,” 803–6. 4
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souls to death”; 3.16.1. “so that by his means death wold be abolished”; 3.18.2. “becoming incarnate, stooping low, even to death”). More telling are the instances where to speak euphemistically of a person’s death is more natural. In such instances, there is evidence of Irenaeus using “departure” as a euphemism (see Ag. Her. 1.25.4; 3.14.2; and possibly 5.7.1.). Such examples refute Ellis’ linguistic evidence and demonstrate that it is well within the realm of possibility for Irenaeus to use as a euphemism for death.7 The literal reading also has historical problems, namely that there is no evidence for the departures of Peter or Paul from Rome during the early 60s. It has been speculated that after Paul’s imprisonment in Rome, he went on to do missionary work in Spain only to return to Rome and be martyred by Nero’s hand. But no sound evidence supports this theory. More importantly, Irenaeus does not seem to be aware of Paul’s trip to Spain, making it unlikely that his use of refers to such a trip. But even if we did allow for Paul’s departure from Rome, there is no evidence that Peter departed from Rome at or near the same time (or at any time for that matter). The absence of any evidence indicating a time when both Paul and Peter left Rome simultaneously speaks against the literal reading of . The context of the passage also supports the euphemistic reading. The use of here seems to have a sense of nality; that is, the departure is not followed by a later return. It seems to be the “departure” that raises the need for John Mark to pass along the written gospel. If this departure was only temporary (one from which Peter and Paul would eventually return), it seems odd that such a need would arise from it. For all of these reasons, the euphemistic reading of is to be preferred, and it is not surprising that most interpreters have adopted it. But even if we understand Irenaeus to be referring to Peter and Paul’s death (and not simply to an unspecied departure), there is a second obstacle preventing us from ascertaining from Irenaeus’ witness the lower limit for Mark’s date of composition. J. Chapman has argued that Irenaeus is not interested in communicating the date of Mark’s composition; rather, he is only interested in afrming that the authoritative preaching of Peter was not lost because Mark recorded it.8 Chapman notes that Irenaeus is responding to the Valentinians and is trying to afrm that apostolic authority lies behind the gospels. Because of this goal, Chapman does not believe it likely that Irenaeus intended to say that Mark wrote down Peter’s preaching after his death. For Chapman, such a testimony by Irenaeus would undermine the gospel’s authority. Chapman argues that Irenaeus intends to say that the gospel that was handed down after 7
Euphemistic references also occur a handful of times in the New Testament (Luke 9:31; 2 Pet 1:15). 8 J. Chapman, “St. Irenaeus on the Date of the Gospels” JTS 6 (1905): 563–69. For others who adopt this interpretation see Gundry, Apology, 1042–43; Wenham, Redating, 239–42; Ellis, “Date and Provenance,” 805–15.
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Peter and Paul’s death was actually written during their lifetimes. Irenaeus is then best understood as follows: Mark, having written down Peter’s preaching, has passed his sermons on to us after Peter and Paul’s death. In this interpretation, Irenaeus says nothing about Mark’s date of composition but only about its transmission to the church. For a number of reasons, Chapman’s interpretation of Irenaeus is unwarranted. We must begin by noting some unnecessary assumptions that Chapman makes. He is correct that Irenaeus is attempting to establish the apostolic authority of the gospels against his Valentinian opponents. But he wrongfully assumes that dating Mark’s gospel after Peter’s death somehow undermines its Petrine or apostolic authority. If Petrine preaching actually lies behind Mark, it makes little difference if it was written down during or after Peter’s life: Petrine authority is hardly undermined.9 Chapman is also wrong to assume that because Irenaeus is only interested in afrming the apostolic authority behind Mark, he is uninterested in giving any other details surrounding its composition, including details regarding its date. While afrming that establishing apostolic authority is Irenaeus’ primary goal, nothing precludes him from including ancillary historical details that were available to him or were a part of the tradition that he had received. Irenaeus’ primary goal should not, a priori, exclude the possible inclusion of the historical details surrounding Mark’s composition. On grammatical grounds, Chapman’s interpretation of Irenaeus is possible but not necessary. Chapman understands the adverb (in/through writing) to be describing the preaching of Peter; that is, it is the “writtendown” preaching of Peter that Mark handed down. However, it is quite possible that the adverb is actually intended to modify the main verb (he passed down). The adverb then describes the means by which the passing down occurred, that is through the medium of writing. If is taken to modify then the prepositional phrase that begins the sentence ! " # $ , “but after their departure/death,” governs both the writing and passing on of Peter’s preaching. Therefore, it is quite natural to read Irenaeus as a claim that Mark wrote his gospel after Peter’s death. Chapman’s reading of this passage also has historical problems. He is forced to see the passage as speaking of two different events: the composition of Mark, which occurs during Peter’s lifetime, and the transmission of Mark, which occurs after Peter’s lifetime. But as James Crossley has noted, it seems unrealistic to claim that a document such as Mark’s gospel would not spread quickly among the churches after being written.10 Certainly if Mark was 9 Placing the composition of Mark after Peter’s lifetime might for some readers increase suspicions about the gospel’s accuracy in recording Petrine tradition, but it does not remove the Petrine authority behind the text. 10 Crossley, Date, 8.
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written in Rome, while Peter was still preaching, its transmission would immediately follow, making composition and transmission virtually a simultaneous event. For these reasons, it seems reasonable to conclude that the traditional understanding of Irenaeus’ testimony is to be preferred, namely that Mark wrote his gospel after Peter’s death. Therefore, if Irenaeus’ testimony can be trusted, Irenaeus establishes for us a lower limit on Mark’s dating (ca. 65 C.E.). But before deciding on Irenaeus’ reliability, we will look at two more ancient witnesses to Mark’s origins. The second important witness to Mark’s date is found in the so-called “anti-Marcionite” prologue.11 Mark declared, who is called “stump-ngered” because he had short ngers in comparison with the size of the rest of his body. He was Peter’s interpreter. After the departure of Peter himself, he wrote down this same gospel in the regions of Italy.12
This witness poses some of the same problems found in Irenaeus: should the word excessionem or “departure” be taken literally or euphemistically, and does descripsit refer to composing the gospel or simply to transmitting it? In answering the rst question, we have already established that euphemistically referring to a person’s death as his departure was a common practice in both the New Testament and the early church. We have also noted that there is no evidence of a well-known departure of Peter from Rome after his arrival. For both of these reasons, the euphemistic understanding of excessionem is preferable. In answering the second question, the verb descripsit certainly carries with it the connotation of writing down or copying in writing. Here again, the idea is likely that of passing on Peter’s gospel through writing. As argued above in the case of Irenaeus, it is unlikely the author has in mind a previously written text that is simply being transmitted to a new audience. If both of these conclusions are accepted, then the prologue afrms the testimony of Irenaeus claiming that Mark wrote his gospel after Peter’s death. The value of this testimony depends, however, on its date and its relationship to Irenaeus, issues to which we will return shortly. The third witness that must be considered is Clement of Alexandria (ca. 200 C.E.). His testimony is preserved for us by Eusebius at two different points. The rst reads as follows: 11 For more thorough discussion on the date and nature of the so-called “anti-Marcionite” prologue, see Jürgen Regul, Die antimarcionitischen Evangelienprologe (VL 6; Freiburg: Herder, 1969), esp. 266–67; Wilbert Francis Howard, “The Anti-Marcionite Prologues to the Gospels,” ExpTim 47 (1935–36): 534–38; Richard G. Heard, “The Old Gospel Prologues,” JTS 6 (1955): 1–16. 12 For the Latin text see Kurt Aland ed., Synopsis quattuor Evangeliorum (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1976), esp. app. “Testimonia Patrum Veterum,” 515–48. The English translation is borrowed from Hengel, Studies, 3.
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But a great light of religion shone on the minds of the hearers of Peter, so that they were not satised with a single hearing or with the unwritten teaching of the divine proclamation, but with every kind of exhortation besought Mark, whose gospel is extant, seeing that he was Peter’s follower, to leave them a written statement of the teaching given them verbally, nor did they cease until they had persuaded him, and so became the cause of the scripture called the Gospel according to Mark. And they say that the Apostle, knowing by the revelation of the spirit to him what had been done, was pleased at their zeal, and ratied the scripture for study in the churches. (Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 2.15.1–2, Lake, LCL)
The second reads: But that the Gospel according to Mark came into being in this manner: When Peter had publicly preached the word at Rome, and by the Spirit had proclaimed the Gospel, that those present, who were many, exhorted Mark, as one who had followed him for a long time and remembered what had been spoken, to make a record of what was said; and that he did this, and distributed the Gospel among those that asked him. And that when the matter came to Peter’s knowledge he neither strongly forbade it nor urged it forward. (Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 6.14.5–7, Oulton, LCL)
In both these passages, Clement’s testimony clearly contradicts Irenaeus and the “anti-Marcionite” prologue. According to Clement, Mark wrote his gospel while Peter was still alive. Clement also specically mentions Peter’s awareness of the gospel (though he records conicting reports regarding Peter’s response). We must now consider the reliability of these three sources and how they relate to one another. Many interpreters believe that all three of these ancient witnesses stem directly from the early second-century witness of Papias, who is our earliest witness to Mark’s connection with Peter. And the Presbyter used to say this, “Mark became Peter’s interpreter and wrote accurately all that he remembered, not, indeed, in order, of the things said or done by the Lord. For he had not heard the Lord, nor had he followed him, but later on, as I said, followed Peter, who used to give teaching as necessity demanded but not making, as it were, an arrangement of the Lord’s oracles, so that Mark did nothing wrong in thus writing down single points as he remembered them. For to one thing he gave attention, to leave out nothing of what he had heard and to make no false statements in them.” (Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.39.15, Lake, LCL)
Because many interpreters conclude that the Papian testimony itself is untrustworthy, they also conclude that testimonies that are dependent on Papias are likewise suspect.13 But the issue of Mark’s date is not discussed in Papias’ testimony, and demonstrating Papias to be the origin of a tradition concerning 13 Hendrika Roskam (Purpose, 80–81) simply discredits other ancient sources because she perceives them to be dependent upon Papias whose testimony she believes to be untrustworthy. For similar views see Robert Guelich, Mark 1–8 :26 (WBC; Dallas: Word, 1989), xxvi; Telford, Theology, 10; W. G. Kümmel, Introduction to the Testament, (trans. H. C. Kee; Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1975), 97; P. Vielhauer, Geschichte der urchristlichen Literatur: Einleitung in das Neue Testament, die Apokryphen und die Apostolischen Väter (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1975), 347. For a defense of Papias’ testimony see Hengel, Studies, 47–50; Gundry, Mark , 1026–45.
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Mark’s date is both difcult and assuming. There is nothing in Papias’ testimony that would lead Irenaeus (or the “anti-Marcionite” prologue) to conclude that Mark wrote after Peter’s death.14 The claim that Irenaeus is dependent upon Papias for this tradition is completely unsubstantiated. If Papias is the source for these three traditions, why does Clement of Alexandria come to an opposite conclusion for Mark’s date to that of Irenaeus? To claim that these witnesses created their traditions based on what they knew from Papias alone would be pure speculation. It is just as likely, or perhaps more so, that while these traditions may know Papias, they are aware of other traditions that are informing their presumptions concerning Mark’s date of composition. Instead of linking these traditions with the fate of Papias’ testimony, these witnesses should be evaluated on their own merits. We will now examine the validity of each tradition and the relationships which they might have with each other. Irenaeus is our earliest witness, making his testimony the most important. As we have seen, Irenaeus claims that Mark wrote sometime after Peter’s and Paul’s deaths. In evaluating this tradition, we must ask if there is any reason to doubt it. Perhaps one could argue the tradition was simply created by Irenaeus or by someone before him. However, the problem with this argument is the lack of a discernible motivation. By placing Mark’s gospel after the death of Peter, Irenaeus adds nothing to Mark’s credibility or value. In fact, if one were to create a tradition regarding Mark’s date, we might expect that tradition to suggest a composition prior to the death of Peter. The fact that Irenaeus places the gospel after Peter’s death gives us more condence in his testimony. Therefore, with no reason to doubt Irenaeus (and perhaps some reason to trust him), his testimony should be accepted as valuable external evidence concerning the date of Mark’s composition.15 The case of the “anti-Marcionite” prologue is more complicated because of questions surrounding its dependence on early Christian witnesses – those other than Papias. The prologue bears a strong resemblance to the tradition found in Irenaeus that causes many to conclude that it is dependent on Irenaeus’ testimony (or vice versa). But it does include details foreign to Irenaeus (and Papias) that may support the conclusion that it represents an 14 For discussion on Irenaeus’ relationship to Papias see Richard Heard, ¯ MONEUMATA in Papias, Justin, and Irenaeus,” NTS 1 (1954): 122–29; A. C. “APOMNE Perumalil, “Are Not Papias and Irenaeus Competent to Report on the Gospels?” ExpTim 91 (1980): 332–37. 15 Some interpreters might suggest that because Irenaeus is likely inaccurate regarding the authorship and date of Matthew (he claims that Matthew was the rst gospel and that it was composed by the apostle Matthew, both of which are unlikely conclusions) he is an untrustworthy source for Mark’s date. However, we must remember that Irenaeus has a reasonable motivation for recording what is likely an inaccurate tradition, namely to increase the credibility of Matthew and to give it priority over non-apostolic gospels. His tradition regarding Mark, on the other hand, has no such motivation and is therefore more likely to be trustworthy.
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independent tradition. The details describing Mark’s physical appearance as “stump-ngered” (colobodactylus) and the reference that Mark wrote in the regions of Italy certainly do not come from Irenaeus (or Papias). Some have argued that the prologue is dependent on Hippolytus, who also makes an isolated and passing reference to Mark as “stump-ngered” (colobodactylus). Though dependence is possible here, it is far from certain. The prologue may simply be dependent on a common stream of tradition. It is possible that the prologue’s use of colobodactylus is dependent on an earlier Greek text than Hippolytus, perhaps even one on which Hippolytus himself was dependent. That Hippolytus refers to Mark as “stump-ngered” without any explanation would seem to indicate that it is part of a tradition with which his audience would be familiar. Perhaps the prologue is simply familiar with this same tradition (or is itself this tradition). Some claim that the reference to Italy as the place of Mark’s composition is dependent on Irenaeus. By placing Mark’s gospel after Peter’s and Paul’s deaths in Rome, Irenaeus seems to imply that Mark wrote the gospel in the same city. It is then argued that the prologue has simply deduced the provenance of Mark from Irenaeus’ testimony and named this location in its own testimony. Yet as Clifton Black has asked, why then does the prologue use such a general designation for Mark’s provenance instead of locating Mark in the capital city itself.16 If the prologue was dependent on Irenaeus, one would expect a specic location for Mark’s composition, i.e., Rome. But the prologue’s general reference seems to indicate independence from Irenaeus. It is impossible to say with any certainty that the “anti-Marcionite” prologue is dependent on either Irenaeus or Hippolytus, though the possibility for such a conclusion exists. But it is equally possible that all three depend on the same stream of tradition regarding Mark’s origins that was available to them through the church. If the prologue is dependent on Irenaeus for its dating of Mark, then at worst we have an ancient witness (3rd century or possibly late 2nd century) casting a vote of approval for this tradition. If it is independent of Irenaeus, we have a second independent ancient witness afrming that Mark wrote after the deaths of Peter and Paul. What then are we to make of Clement’s testimony, which contradicts that of Irenaeus and the “anti-Mariconite” prologue? Clement is certainly later than Irenaeus, though he may precede the “anti-Marcionite” prologue. Some interpreters have given Clement’s testimony pride of place, and this is one of the reasons why Chapman attempted to reinterpret Irenaeus’ testimony. Chapman supposes that Clement represents a tradition that is more authentic than that of Irenaeus. But this conclusion does not stand up against critical investigation. It is much easier to explain Clement’s testimony as a develop16 C. Clifton Black, Mark: Images of an Apostolic Interpreter (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001), 119–20.
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ment of the tradition found in Irenaeus’ testimony than vice versa. It makes sense that over time there would be a desire to draw the second gospel closer to the apostle Peter than earlier traditions allowed for. Therefore, Clement has more likely pushed the second gospel back into Peter’s lifetime. Not only that, but he also records that the apostle’s Spirit inspired approval of it! The motivations for such actions are quite clear. By creating such a tradition, Clement raises the signicance of Mark, a gospel that was viewed inferior to Matthew, Luke, and John, and further secures its place in the church. While this type of development seems plausible, the alternative, namely Irenaeus’s tradition developing out of that found in Clement, seems entirely inexplicable. No conceivable motivation exists to explain why a tradition that Mark wrote during Peter’s lifetime could develop into one that claims Mark wrote after Peter’s death. Therefore, it is best to conclude that Clement’s testimony does not rescue a lost tradition (as Chapman believes), but rather alters an earlier tradition (that represented by Irenaeus). Irenaeus’ testimony should, therefore, be given pride of place over Clement’s. Here we will summarize our conclusions for the external evidence. We determined that both Irenaeus and the “anti-Marcionite” prologue claim that Mark’s gospel was written after Peter’s and Paul’s deaths, while Clement of Alexandria claims that it was written during Peter’s lifetime, and with his knowledge. These traditions have been unnecessarily linked with Papias’ testimony and now should be evaluated on their own merits. Irenaeus’ testimony has little reason to be doubted and should be valued as a strong piece of external evidence for Mark’s date. The “anti-Marcionite” prologue, though its independence is uncertain, is at the least an early afrmation of the tradition found in Irenaeus, if not an independent witness to it. The conicting report of Clement of Alexandria is best understood as a later evolution of a tradition that placed Mark after Peter’s death rather than as the resurgence of an older tradition. Therefore, we can conclude that the external evidence supports a lower limit of 65 C.E. for Mark. However, because the certainty of these traditions remains elusive, their value is somewhat mitigated. The usefulness of this investigation is only secondary to that of the internal evidence, to which we will now turn. 2.2.2 An Early Date for Mark (Pre-65 C.E.): The Internal Evidence There are a number of features in Mark’s text that seem to indicate a late date rather than an early one.17 The rst of these is Mark’s anticipation that only a handful of disciples will see the Parousia:18 “There are some standing here 17 A number of these features have been noted by Adolf Jülicher and later echoed by Martin Hengel: A. Jülicher and E. Fascher, Einleitung in das Neue Testament (Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1931), 304; Hengel, Studies, 7–14. 18 Hengel, Studies, 8.
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who will not taste death until they see the kingdom of God come with power” (9:1).19 It seems that at the time of Mark’s composition, only a small number of rst-generation Christians were left to anticipate the Parousia. Compare this with Paul’s expectation that the majority of believers will experience the Parousia: “For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise rst. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air” (1 Thess 4:16–17). Here Paul is easing the minds of the Thessalonian believers who have experienced death in their community and are worrying over the fate of those who had died before the Parousia. He does this by claiming that those who had died (the minority) would be resurrected and would meet the rest of the believers (the majority) at the Lord’s second coming. Again in 1 Corinthians 15:6, Paul indicates that the majority of the ve hundred witnesses who saw the risen Christ are still alive and are able to testify to what they had seen. Only some had “fallen asleep.” Mark, therefore, would need to have been composed at a date signicantly later than 1 Thessalonians (ca. 50–51 C.E.) and 1 Corinthians (ca. 56–57 C.E.) at a time when many of the rstgeneration believers and eyewitnesses to Christ were no longer living. Dating Mark at least eight to ten years after 1 Corinthians is likely enough time to see a signicant change in the number of rst generation believers still living. Such a dating would place Mark sometime after 65 C.E. – a date consistent with the previously examined external evidence. Crossley has tried to downplay the signicance of this argument in his recent monograph concerning Mark’s date.20 He notes that Mark refers to the coming of the “kingdom of God” in 9:1, while Paul refers to the “Parousia” in 1 Thessalonians. But it is almost certain that Mark’s reference to the kingdom of God in 9:1 is a reference to the nal eschatological kingdom of God, which is closely connected to, if not synonymous with, the Son of Man coming “in the glory of his Father with the holy angels” – a reference found in the preceding verse. The only other possible referents are Jesus’ transguration, Jesus’ resurrection, or possibly Pentecost; but since virtually all the disciples will not taste death before these events (with the exception of Judas), these referents make little sense.21 It is virtually certain Mark means that some 19 We are assuming that through this verse Mark is speaking to the current situation of his audience. 20 Crossley, Date, 54–55. 21 Etienne Trocmé offers a unique interpretation of this passage, claiming that these words are a warning to disciples who are unwilling to sacrice their lives for Jesus and the gospel. Because of this failure, these disciples will live to see the kingdom of God come in power, a power that will surely bring their judgment. Trocmé’s interpretation has found few followers because the text seems to function as an encouragement to Mark’s readers – an encouragement that was needed after Jesus’ ominous words in verses 8:34–38. See Trocmé, Formation, 123; idem, “Marc 9:1: prediction ou reprimand?” SE 2 (1964), 259–65.
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rst-generation disciples will not die until the eschatological kingdom of God is established at the coming of the Son of Man. Crossley also points to the imprecision of the word (some), arguing that it should not be read in direct contrast with the many who were alive and anticipating the Parousia in Paul’s letters.22 But Mark’s usage of “some” seems to have a narrowing intention. Mark’s sense does not seem to be that “some” will see the kingdom of God come in power and “some” will not, so that Jesus’ words are doing nothing more than noting the presence of disciples at this time. On the contrary, in light of the preceding teaching on suffering discipleship, it is more likely that Mark intends to say that while many will give up their life for the gospel, some (the minority) will live to see the kingdom of God come in power. Despite Crossley’s efforts to mitigate this evidence for a later date for Mark’s composition, it still remains compelling. Therefore, anyone seeking to date Mark before 65 C.E. must adequately explain the changes between Paul and Mark in the expectations of who will actually see the Parousia. Another telling feature of Mark that indicates a later date of composition is the references made to a world-wide mission (13:10; 14:9).23 Mark certainly seems aware of such a mission and, thus, is likely writing at a time when the gospel had found its way to most of the known world. Hengel notes that the earliest possible awareness of such a mission would be sometime after Paul began his missionary work (ca. 48–49 C.E.).24 But he thinks it unlikely that such references would be made until the late 50s when the church had taken over the concept of a world-wide mission. Paul’s mission was certainly the beginning of a world-wide mission, but the realization of that mission was not seen until a decade later.25 The condence with which Mark speaks about this mission seems to indicate that it is an established reality and not still an anticipated one. According to this evidence, Mark would then be best placed in a time during or after the late 50s, a date that could easily coincide with the lower limit of 65 C.E. Crossley argues that the world-wide mission of the church seems to have begun quite early, perhaps even before Paul’s conversion.26 He notes as evidence Philip’s encounter with the Ethiopian eunuch, the conversion of Cornelius, the call at Paul’s conversion for his ministry to Gentiles, and his subsequent trip to Arabia and Damascus. He also claims that the Jerusalem Council of Acts 15 presupposes a widespread mission to Gentiles. In light of these events, Crossley believes that it would be quite possible for the evangelist to speak of 22
Crossley, Date, 54–55. See Hengel, Studies, 12–13. 24 Hengel, Studies, 12–13. 25 In Romans (c. 57 C.E.), Paul may refer to the fulllment of such a world-wide mission (Rom 10:18; 15:19), though West (Italy and Spain) remained a mission eld. 26 Crossley, Date, 50–51. 23
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a world-wide mission at a date much earlier than the mid-60s. But all of this evidence simply speaks to the beginning of a mission, one which could not yet be described as “world-wide.” An author writing at this time could hardly speak with certainty (e.g., the way in which Mark does) about the success of this mission, namely that it will “be proclaimed to all nations” (13:10) and be “proclaimed in the whole world” (14:9). Therefore, the Markan references to a world-wide mission are strong evidence that Mark’s composition should not be dated before the early 60s C.E. Crossley has constructed an argument for dating Mark that is based on Mark’s presentation of the law. He argues that Mark presents the law in a positive light at all points and that it does not reect conict within the church concerning the law’s validity. He claims that the only time within the rst century that this attitude existed toward the law was in the early stages of the church’s existence. For Crossley, therefore, Mark’s presentation of the law is evidence that Mark was written in the early 40s C.E. It is not possible for us to critique the whole of Crossley’s work, but we will examine the “capstone” of his argument. The issue on which Crossley’s entire work rests is his interpretation of Mark 7:1–23.27 This passage has led many interpreters to a conclusion opposite to Crossley’s regarding Mark’s view of the law. 28 For it is in verse 19 that Mark includes what most interpreters understand as a Markan editorial comment regarding Jesus’ teaching on hand-washing and food consumption: “Thus he declared all foods clean.” On the surface, this Markan editorial comment seems to be abrogating the food laws of the Torah and therefore contradicting Crossley’s claim that Mark’s view of the law is entirely positive. If Crossley cannot offer an alternative explanation for this verse, his theory regarding Mark’s view of the law fails, as does his case for an early dating of Mark. Crossley must work hard at offering an alternative interpretation of Mark 7:1–23. He argues that verse 19 must be read in the context of 7:1–23, which he claims centers on a debate between Jesus and the Pharisees regarding the Jewish tradition of washing one’s hands before eating. Crossley offers an insightful discussion on the authenticity of the Jewish traditions Mark described. He also does well in demonstrating that the debate between Jesus and the Pharisees is one regarding tradition and not the law itself. The tradition that is being debated is whether food touched by impure hands becomes impure itself and thus makes the one eating it impure as well. Mark’s Jesus is arguing against this tradition. Up to this point, Crossley’s discussion of Mark 7:1–23 is quite helpful, and there is nothing with which we presently need to contend. 27
Crossley, Date, 183–205. For examples, see Gundry, Apology, 367–37; Bas van Iersel, Mark: A Reader-Response Commentary (trans. W. H. Bisscheroux; London: T & T Clark, 1998), 243–45; Marcus, Mark, 458; Francis Moloney, The Gospel of Mark, (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002), 143; R. T. France, Mark, 291–92; Donahue and Harrington, Mark, 228–29. 28
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But it is Crossley’s interpretation of verse 19 that is highly questionable. He concludes that because the focus of verses 1–23 is on the nature of tradition versus commandment and because they are steeped in halakic debate regarding hand-washing, verse 19 must be understood within this context. According to Crossley, Mark’s editorial comment, “Thus he declared all foods clean,” cannot be understood as an abrogation of laws because this would defy the context of the Markan pericope, which concerns tradition (hand washing) and not law (clean vs. unclean food). He argues, therefore, that the editorial comment should be understood in the following way: He declared “all foods that are permitted to eat in the Torah to be clean thereby denying the role of handwashing.”29 Mark’s comment, therefore, summarizes Jesus’ stance on hand-washing, namely that eating with unclean hands cannot make a person unclean. Crossley’s interpretation of verse 19 is unconvincing. While Crossley may certainly be correct in understanding the tradition recorded in 7:1–23 in light of the halakic debate over hand-washing, he is wrong to conclude that Mark’s editorial comment must be understood in light of this same context.30 Mark’s interpretation of this tradition is not bound by the historical context of the tradition itself. If we do not restrict the way in which Mark is allowed to interpret this tradition, then reading verse 19 as an abrogation of Jewish food laws is not as problematic as Crossley claims. Another weakness in Crossley’s interpretation is that it assumes that the readers of Mark would be able to see clearly that this verse is not an abrogation of food laws (which a surface reading of the text would indicate), but rather is a rejection of the practice of hand-washing before a meal. But considering that Mark’s audience is almost certainly Gentile, and that they require even the basic practices of Jewish purity rites to be explained to them (7:3–4), it seems unlikely that they would be able to arrive at such a complicated reading without assistance from the author. Crossley himself must spend seven pages to explain the complex halakic debate regarding hand-washing and purity that he claims provides the context for his interpretation of verse 19. Certainly Mark’s readers did not have the necessary knowledge to arrive at Crossley’s reading of verse 19; and it is virtually as certain that Mark did not intend them to. Verse 19 is, therefore, best understood as a Markan editorial comment that interprets this particular Jesus tradition as an abrogation of Jewish food laws (whether rightly so or not).31 Crossley’s claim that Mark reects a time in 29
Crossley, Date, 192. See Marcus, Mark, 458; Moloney, Mark, 143. 31 A handful of interpreters have argued that Mark’s interpretation of Jesus does not accurately reect the position of the historical Jesus. For such arguments see G. Vermes, Jesus the Jew (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1973), 29; J. D. M. Derrett, Studies in the New Testament (2nd ed.; Leiden, Brill, 1986), 1.176–83; M. Black, An Aramaic Approach to the Gospels and 30
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which the place of the law was completely unquestioned must be rejected, as well as the early date that he associated with this view of the law. We have demonstrated that both internal and external evidence indicates ca. 65 C.E. as a lower limit for dating Mark. While there is little convincing evidence for dating Mark before 65 C.E., there is a signicant amount of evidence that precludes such a dating. After establishing Mark’s lower limit, we will now turn our attention to the question of Mark’s relationship to the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple and whether Mark was written before or after this event. 2.2.3 Mark’s Relationship to the Temple’s Destruction: A Pre- or Post-70 Dating? Perhaps the most signicant piece of internal evidence for dating Mark’s gospel concerns its relationship to the destruction of the Jerusalem temple, an event that the Markan Jesus foretells (13:2). However, interpreters are divided over how to interpret this evidence, with approximately half interpreting the prophecy as evidence of a post-70 C.E. dating32 (most of whom understand the prophecy as a vaticinium ex eventu) and the other half as evidence of a pre-70 C.E. dating33 (most of whom accept the prophecy as authentic). Here we seek Acts (3rd ed.; Oxford: Clarendon, 1967), 217–18; Guelich, Mark, 378–79; R. P. Booth, Jesus and the Laws of Purity (JSNTSup 13; Shefeld: Shefeld Academic Press, 1986), 72–73. 32 G. Hölscher, “Der Ursprung,” 193–202; S. G. F. Brandon, “The Date of Mark’s Gospel,” NTS 7 (1961): 126–41; idem, The Fall of Jerusalem; H. G. Conzelmann, “Geschichte und Eschaton nach Mc 13,” ZNW 50 (1959): 210–21; R. Pesch, Das Markusevangelium (Freiburg: Herder, 1976), vol. 1, 14, vol. 2, 260–67, 292, 300; Lührmann, Markusevangelium, 343; Morna Hooker, “Trial and Tribulation in Mark XIII,” BJRL 65 (1982): 78–79; idem, The Gospel according to St. Mark (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1991), 314; Kelber, Kingdom; J. Lambrecht, Markus–Apokalypse; J. R. Donahue, “Windows and Mirrors: The Setting of Mark’s Gospel,” CBQ 57 (1995): 1–26; Gnilka, Markus, 2:184–88; L. J. Lietaert Peerbolte, The Antecedents of Antichrist: A Traditio-Historical Study of the Earliest Christian Views on Eschatological Opponents (JSJSup 49; Leiden: Brill, 1996); J. Marcus, “The Jewish War and the Sitz im Leben of Mark,” JBL 111 (1992): 441–62; William Such, The Abomination of Desolation in the Gospel of Mark: Its Historical Reference in Mark 13:14 and Its Impact in the Gospel (Lanham: University Press of America, 1999); Roskam, Purpose, 75–114; Brian J. Incigneri, The Gospel to the Romans: The Setting and Rhetoric of Mark’s Gospel (Leiden: Brill, 2003); Theissen, Context, 259–271; Maloney, Mark, 11–15; Donahue and Harrington, Mark, 41–47. 33 See Lohmeyer, Markus, 268; Marxsen, Evangelist, 151–89; Vincent Taylor, The Formation of the Gospel Tradition (London: Macmillan, 1935), 73; idem, Mark, 501; J. Schniewind, Das Evangelium nach Markus (NTD 1; 4th ed.; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1947), 181; M. J. Lagrange, Evangile selon Saint Marc (EBib; 4th ed.; Paris: J. Gabalda, 1947), xxxi; E. Klostermann, Das Markusevangelium (HNT 3; 5th ed.; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1971); W. Grundmann, Das Evangelium nach Markus (THKNT 2; 2nd ed.; Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1962), 19; L. Gaston, No Stone on Another: Studies in the Signicance of the Fall of Jerusalem in the Synoptic Gospels (NovTSup 23; Leiden: Brill, 1970), 66; Schweizer, Mark, 262; H. J. Schoeps, “Ebionitische Apokalyptik im Neuen
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to nd a way forward on this issue in order to provide a plausible date for Mark’s gospel.34 Before proceeding we must clarify two points. First, much of the debate surrounding the authenticity of this prophecy has centered on whether it is an authentic Jesus tradition. The logic works in the following way: “If it can be shown that this prophecy is an authentic Jesus tradition, it cannot be considered a vaticinium ex eventu and, therefore, Mark can be dated prior to the destruction of Jerusalem.” But here, we suggest that this prophecy’s identity as an authentic Jesus tradition is only indirectly related to Mark’s date. Mark could have just as easily recorded an authentic Jesus tradition at a point after the temple’s destruction as before it and doing so would make the tradition no less authentic. The days in which we concluded that Mark simply recorded all the tradition that was available to him are long past. We have come to recognize Mark as a creative and selective author who intentionally shaped his material. The prophecy then must be considered Mark’s own prophecy that comes from either his (possibly authentic) sources or his own imagination. The focus of the debate over Mark’s date of composition, therefore, should not Testament,” ZNW 51 (1960): 101–11; F. F. Bruce, “The Date and Character of Mark,” in Jesus and the Politics of His Day (E. Bammel and C. F. D. Moule eds.; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984), 69–89; G. W. H. Lampe, “A. D. 70 in Christian Reection,” in Jesus and the Politics of His Day (E. Bammel and C. F. D. Moule eds.; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984), 153–71; Hengel, Studies, 14–30; C. S. Mann, Mark (AB 27; Garden City: Doubleday, 1986), 510; Beasley-Murray, Last Days; L. Schenke, Das Markusevangelium (Urban-Taschenbücher 405; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1988), 35–38; Collins, Beginning, 76–77; van Iersel, Mark, 46–49; Craig Evans, Mark 8:27–16:20 (WBC; Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2001), lxii–lxiii. 34 The following discussion on Mark 13 will be carried out under these assumptions: the second evangelist is autonomous over the entire work and, whether he is dependent upon a written (or oral) source or has constructed chapter 13 himself, the nal result is one that the author desired. In light of this assumption, we will not spend time discussing the origins of chapter 13 nor the redaction which it might have undergone. For interpreters who argue for an early Jewish-Christian source see F. Hahn, “Die Rede von der Parusie des Menschensohnes Markus 13,” in Jesus und der Menschensohn (R. Pesch and R. Schnackenburg eds.; Freiburg: Herder, 1975), 240–66; G. Hölscher, “Der Ursprung der Apokalypse Mk 13,” TBe 12 (1933): 193–202; W. G. Kümmel, Promise and Fullment (London: SCM Press, 1957), 102–4; G. Theissen, Context, 125–49. For interpreters who argue for an early non-Christian Jewish source see R. Bultmann, Synoptic Tradition, 395–405; N. Walter, “Tempelzerstörung und synoptische Apokalypse,” ZNW 57 (1966): 38–49. For more general discussion on Markan redaction in Mark 13 see E. Brandenburger, Markus 13 und die Apokalyptik (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1984), 46–51; Adela Yarbro Collins, The Beginning of the Gospel: Probings of Mark in Context (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992), 77; J. Lambrecht, Die Redaktion der Markus-Apokalypse (Rome: Pontical Biblical Institute, 1967), R. Pesch, Naherwartungen: Tradition und Redaktion in Mark 13 (Düsseldorf: Patmos, 1968). For a summary of many of these interpretations see Beasley-Murray, Last Days, 162–350. Our present discussion focuses on the nal form of Mark 13 and the purpose it serves in the gospel as a whole.
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be on whether this saying is an authentic Jesus tradition, but on whether Mark recorded (or created) this prophecy (essentially adopting it as his own) at a time before or after the temple’s destruction. Therefore, we will not speak of Mark’s temple prophecy as authentic (actually spoken by the historical Jesus) or inauthentic (not spoken by the historical Jesus), but rather we will speak of the prophecy as pre factum (meaning it was recorded by Mark before the fact of the temple’s destruction) or post factum (meaning it was recorded by Mark after the fact of the temple’s destruction). Second, we must note that certainty regarding this issue is not attainable. Therefore, we are left to consider the plausibility and probability of either a pre factum prophecy or a post factum prophecy. In order to determine the most plausible and/or probable outcome, we will consider ve different criteria: (1) the criterion of specicity; (2) the criterion of reasonableness; (3) the criterion of similarity; (4) the criterion of motivation; (5) the criterion of riskreward. Below we will address each criterion separately, rst offering a brief explanation of the criterion and then applying the criterion to Mark’s temple prophecy. The outcome demonstrated to be the most plausible and/or probable will be preferred. The Criterion of Specicity The criterion of specicity looks at how specic the details of a prophecy are. If a prophecy includes a great number of specic details that have actually played out, it is more likely to be a post factum prophecy. But if the prediction is more general or one that lacks specic details, the plausibility that it represents a pre factum prophecy increases. Interpreters have applied this criterion to Mark and have come to differing conclusions. Theissen argues that Mark’s prediction regarding the temple is quite specic, and he concludes that the prophecy in Mark is in fact a vaticinium ex eventu.35 He notes the phrase “not one stone will be left here (%) upon another,” and claims that the use of the word w d| e may indicate that Mark is restricting the destruction to the temple itself and not the retaining wall built around it. But the stones of the retaining wall still remain to this day; thus Theissen concludes that Mark tailored the prophecy to t more accurately the details of the temple’s destruction. Yet that Mark uses % in this way is far from certain. &could easily refer both to the temple and to the retaining wall built around it. Therefore, one could also argue for a conclusion that is the exact opposite of Theissen. Given that the retaining wall was not completely destroyed, why would someone include the inaccurate detail that no stone would be left upon another after the event of the destruction? If, as Theissen suggests, the author was only referring to the temple and not the retaining wall, why did he not make this distinction more clearly. But both these interpretations likely take the phrase too literally. 35
Theissen, Context, 259.
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The phrase is best understood as expressing the gravity of the destruction that the temple either has experienced or will experience.36 Despite Theissen’s claims, Mark’s prediction is quite general. It predicts the temple’s destruction but gives very few details regarding the destruction; e.g., it fails to betray knowledge of the Roman siege of Jerusalem or the burning of both the temple and city (cf. Luke 19:43–44; 21:20). Therefore, the generality of this prophecy increases the plausibility that it is prophecy pre factum.37 The Criterion of Reasonableness The criterion of reasonableness examines the reasonable nature of the prophecy itself. Clearly, the more reasonable a prediction, the easier it is to accept that it may have been made before the event. For example, a prophecy claimed to have been given in 1915 regarding the United States’ involvement in World War I would be easy to accept as pre factum. Given the prognosticator’s information, the prophecy, though not certain, is quite plausible. But a prophecy claimed to have been given in 1915 regarding the United States’ war in Vietnam would be much more difcult to accept as authentic. Therefore, we must consider whether a prophecy of the temple’s destruction, pre factum, was a reasonable one given the available information. The rst piece of information available to the evangelist is the awareness of a widespread feeling that the Jerusalem temple and the ministry and activity surrounding it were corrupt. Certainly the Essenes are evidence that a signicant number of people rejected the temple establishment because of perceived corruption. As we will discuss below, references to temple corruption are not uncommon in non-Essene writings of the Second Temple period (Testament of Levi 10:3, 14:1–15:3, 16:1–5; Testament of Judah 23:1–5; Lives of the Prophets 10:10, 12:11). Because of what appears to be an anti-temple motif in Mark (11:12–25; 12:1–12; 13:1–2; 15:38), it might be suggested that even the evangelist may have been sympathetic to this sentiment. In light of this negative attitude toward the temple, it is reasonable to conclude that someone might predict its destruction as a sign of God’s judgment against it (and as we will discuss below, many in fact did so).38
36
See Collins, Beginning, 76. The unspecic nature of Mark’s prophecy has led many interpreters to conclude that the prophecy is authentic; for example see Taylor, St. Mark, 501; E. P. Sanders and M. Davies, Studying the Synoptic Gospels (London: SCM Press, 1989), 18; I. Broer, Einleitung in das Neue Testament (NEB; Würzburg: Echter, 1998), 1:85; Kee, Community, 100–1; Hengel, Studies, 14–15; van Iersel, Mark, 46–49; et al. 38 For a more detailed look at perceived corruption in the Jerusalem temple, see Craig A. Evans, “Predictions of the Destruction of the Herodian Temple,” JSP 10 (1992): esp. 121–34. 37
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A second piece of information likely available to the evangelist was knowledge of the volatile relationship between Rome and the Palestinian Jews. A large number of Palestinian Jews resented Roman occupation, with a good deal of this resentment resulting from Roman insensitivities toward the Jewish faith. Josephus notes a number of incidents in which such insensitivities resulted in violent conicts between Romans and Jews.39 Someone aware of the tension between Jews and Romans and the violent history between them could reasonably foresee the escalation of these realities resulting in the destruction of the physical center of Jewish faith, the temple. If Mark were written during the Jewish Revolt as many interpreters conclude, the evangelist has already seen the escalation of these tensions and the resulting violence. Certainly someone witnessing Rome’s erce response to Jewish rebellion could reasonably predict the temple’s destruction. In fact, to some, such an event might have seemed to be a plausible outcome (though as discussed below, not a certain one). Therefore, given the information that might have been available to Mark, a prophecy regarding the temple’s destruction seems to be a relatively reasonable one. The reasonableness of the prophecy increases the plausibility that it is a pre factum prophecy. The Criterion of Similarity The criterion of similarity considers prophecies of a similar nature that were made prior to the prophesied event. If the temple’s destruction was prophesied by others before the event itself, then the plausibility that Mark’s prophecy was also made prior to the event certainly increases. A handful of sources that predate 70 C.E. do record prophecies regarding the destruction of the Second Temple. Craig Evans has convincingly shown that predictions regarding the temple’s destruction were not uncommon during the Second Temple period.40 In the Testament of Levi, which likely dates to the second century B.C.E, the following prophecy is found: “Therefore the sanctuary which the Lord chose shall become desolate through your uncleanness and you will be captives in all nations” (15.2).41 The corruption in the Hasmonean family likely motivated this prophecy, a corruption that many believed had profaned the temple. Corruption in the temple results in what appears to be a prophecy regarding its destruction. The DSS also include a prophecy concerning the temple’s destruction: “And what it says: ‘Since you pillaged many people all the rest of the nations will pillage you.’ Its interpretation concerns the last priest of Jerusalem, who will accumulate riches and 39
Josephus, Ant. 15. 275–279; 17.146–154; 18.55–59; see also Philo, Legat. 38. Evans, “Predictions,” 89–147. 41 For the translation, see H. C. Kee, “Testament of Levi,” in Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (James Charlesworth ed.; Garden City: Doubleday, 1983), 1:793. 40
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loot from plundering the nations. However, in the last days their riches and their loot will be given into the hands of the army of the Kittim [Romans].”42 (1QpHab 9:2–7)
The temple’s destruction is not specically stated, but the destruction of the temple’s priests is quite clear. When this text is read together with texts that anticipate building a new temple (11QTemp 29:8–10; 30:1–4), the destruction of the old temple accompanying the destruction of its corrupt priests becomes a reasonable conclusion.43 Again corruption is the cause for a prophecy against the temple establishment. The Lives of the Prophets contains the following prophecy: “And concerning the end of the Temple, he predicted, ‘By a western nation it will happen.’ ‘At that time’, he said, ‘the curtain of the Dabeir [Holy of Holies]44 will be torn into small pieces, and the capitals of the two pillars will be taken and no one will know where they are; and they will be carried away by angels into the wilderness, where the Tent of Witness was set up in the beginning.’” (12:11) 45
This prophecy’s value for our present purposes is questionable because some challenge whether the Lives of the Prophets predates the temple’s destruction. Destruction at the hands of a western nation may indicate an awareness of Rome’s destruction of the temple. But details such as the tearing of the temple curtain into pieces and the mysterious disappearance of the pillars’ capitals, is not consistent with any known testimony concerning the temple’s destruction and may indicate a pre-70 dating.46 Therefore, it is possible that the Lives of the Prophets also reects an authentic prophecy regarding the temple’s destruction. In that others (aside from Mark) prophesied the temple’s destruction before 70 C.E., we must conclude that it is at least plausible that Mark could do the same. Again, this criterion increases the plausibility that Mark’s prophecy is pre factum.47 The Criterion of Motivation The criterion of motivation seeks to determine possible authorial motivations for making or including a particular prophecy. Here we compare possible motivations for recording a pre factum prophecy with possible motivations 42 For the translation, see Florentino Garcia Martinez and Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls: Study Edition (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), 1:19. 43 See Evans, “Predictions,” 96–97, for further discussion. 44 See n. 11f. in Kee, “Testament of Levi,” 393. 45 For the translation, see D. R. A. Hare, “The Lives of the Prophets,” in Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. 46 For discussion concerning the dating of the Lives of the Prophets, see D. R. A. Hare, “The Lives of the Prophets” in Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, 2:381 n. 11; C. C. Torrey, The Lives of the Prophets (SBLMS 1; Philadelphia: Society of Biblical Literature, 1946), 11. 47 Similar conclusions are reached by Evans, “Predictions,” 146–47.
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for recording a post factum prophecy. The position with the most plausible motivations will be preferred.48 We will begin by analyzing possible motivations for a pre factum prophecy. Some may suggest that the evangelist simply desired to record accurately a Jesus tradition that he had received, and therefore, included the prophecy of the temple’s destruction. If, in the evangelist’s tradition, he had received a prophecy regarding the temple’s destruction, it is possible that, regardless of the temple’s present state, the evangelist might include that tradition. If he considered the tradition to be authentic and trusted Jesus’ prophetic power, no more motivation may have been needed. But given what many interpreters perceive to be Mark’s selective and creative use of his sources,49 this motivation appears too general. We can be fairly certain that Mark was under no obligation to record material simply because he possessed it. Therefore, we need a more specic motivation for why Mark might have desired to record this particular Jesus tradition. One such motivation for including a pre factum prophecy is the perceived corruption in the temple and among its overseers. Perceived corruption was clearly the motivation for other prophecies of the temple’s destruction (as we have demonstrated above). It is quite possible that the evangelist and his community perceived the temple to be corrupt and, therefore, predicted its coming destruction. This motivation would appear to be in line with the “anti-temple” theme that many interpreters have perceived in Mark. The problem with this motivation is that “anti-temple” sentiments are absent from all extant pre-70 C.E. Christian literature (with the exclusion of Mark, the date of which we are attempting to discern). The Pauline corpus says nothing about temple corruption nor does it reveal any anticipation of the temple’s destruction.50 The Acts of the Apostles portrays the early church as having a positive perspective on the temple. In fact, the testimony of Acts would seem to indicate that Jerusalem Christians regularly worshiped at the temple. Paul himself fullled vows at the temple likely as late as 58–59 C.E. (Acts 21:17–26). The only exception to 48 Here we must acknowledge that we cannot ascertain with certainty what motivated the anonymous author of the second gospel to include any particular piece of material. However, based on the Markan text and our knowledge of early Christianity, we can offer possible motives for the evangelist, and we can compare these motifs in order to determine which of them seems most plausible. 49 While we conclude that detecting where Mark has edited his sources is difcult, it is generally agreed that Mark did in fact use sources, and that he was selective in their use. 50 Paul does claim that believers are the temple of God (1 Cor 3:16–17; 2 Cor 6:14 – 7:1; cf. Eph 2:18–22; 1 Tim 3:15), which likely evidences his belief in the inadequacy of the temple, but it does not indicate that he foresaw its impending destruction. For temple imagery in Paul see Bertil Gärtner, The Temple and the Community in Qumran and the New Testament (SNTS 1; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1965), 49–70. In 2 Thessalonians, Paul (or another in Paul’s name) does claim that the eschatological “man of lawlessness” will set himself up in the “temple of God” (2 Thess 2:4), but this claim does not seem to be a critique of the temple or the temple establishment, nor does it anticipate the temple’s destruction.
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this positive temple portrayal in Acts comes during the narrative of Stephen. Stephen’s opponents claim that he has spoken against both the “holy place and the Law” (Acts 6:13) and that he has claimed that Jesus will destroy the temple (Acts 6:14). But the text indicates that these charges are false, and that Stephen never actually said these things. At the end of his speech, Stephen makes a critique, not of the temple itself, but of the Jews’ misguided understanding of the temple (Acts 7:48–50). But Stephen never links this misguided Jewish perspective to temple corruption or the eventual destruction of the temple. The mention of Jesus destroying the temple could simply be the result of Luke applying Jesus traditions (which he receives from Mark) to Stephen, whose trial and death is closely paralleled to that of Jesus’ in the book of Acts.51 Therefore, the accusation that Stephen claimed Jesus would destroy the temple is a Lukan creation and does not represent a pre-70 “anti-temple” sentiment. Again, on the whole, Acts presents the early church as having a positive view of the temple. While one could argue that the book of Hebrews is a pre-70 witness to an “anti-temple” sentiment within the church, there is much debate over whether it ought to be dated before 70 C.E. We must also note that Hebrews never mentions the temple, but instead speaks of the tabernacle. Even if one dates Hebrews before 70 C.E., there is no indication of a Christian belief that the temple was corrupt or that it would be destroyed. At most, Hebrews presents the temple (in actuality the tabernacle) as inadequate but not as corrupt or deserving of destruction. The absence of a corrupt temple motif in any pre-70 C.E. Christian literature or in any portrayals of the pre-70 church is evidence that an “anti-temple” sentiment was not prevalent within early Christianity before the temple’s destruction.52 Therefore, temple corruption becomes an unlikely motivation for a pre factum prophecy regarding the Jerusalem temple’s destruction.53 Another possible motivation for including a pre factum prophecy of the temple’s destruction may be the perceived imminence of that destruction. If the evangelist is writing in the nal stages of the Jewish Revolt (as many interpreters have concluded) and is aware of the stranglehold that Roman forces have on Jerusalem, his motivation may come from a desire to report 51 For discussion on intentional parallels between Jesus and Stephen in the book of Acts see C. K. Barrett, Act of the Apostles (ICC; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1994), 327, 381; Joseph Fitzmyer, The Acts of the Apostles: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 18C; New York: Doubleday, 1998), 389–95. 52 For further discussion on the early church’s view of the temple see Oskar Skarsaune, In the Shadow of the Temple: Jewish Inuences on Early Christianity (Downers Grove: IVP, 2002), 155–60. 53 Some might then ask why an “anti-temple” theme is discernible in Mark. But such a theme does not mandate the current existence of a corrupt temple, but rather could give an explanation as to why the temple has recently been destroyed.
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what seems to be inevitable.54 Perhaps to the perceptive evangelist, Roman victory might seem to be a certainty and with that victory, the evangelist foresees the annihilation of the Jews’ holiest place. But this raises the question of how inevitable this outcome of the Jewish Revolt was. Even up to the point when Rome breached Jerusalem’s walls, the Jews had numerous successes in beating back their forces. At one point after the walls were breached, the Jewish rebels inicted heavy casualties on the Romans and forced them to retreat from the city. At the prospect of taking the last Jewish stronghold in the city, the temple itself, Titus offered the Jews terms of peace, but they rejected these. With the various successes experienced by the Jews throughout the siege of Jerusalem, it would be difcult for anyone to predict the outcome of the war, even at the latest hour. With the real possibility of a negotiated peace, the destruction of the Jewish temple was far from certain. Perhaps some military strategists could claim Roman victory and see the temple’s destruction as a necessary outcome. But Jews and Christians, who were steeped in eschatological expectations and believed wholeheartedly in divine intervention, could hardly accept the nality of the temple’s destruction until it had in fact become a reality. It was perhaps the belief that God would not let his temple fall to pagan enemies that caused the Jewish rebels to make their nal stand in the temple itself. For these reasons, the evangelist’s desire to report the imminent destruction of the temple is not a compelling motivation for Mark’s prophecy. Up to this point, we have examined possible motivations for Mark’s prophecy regarding the temple’s destruction before the event. None of the motivations we have examined has been overly compelling (though each may be possible). We will now look at the evangelist’s possible motivation for recording a post factum prophecy of the temple’s destruction. The rst motivation is obvious. By having Jesus predict the temple’s destruction, Mark further highlights Jesus’ prophetic power, a power which is only conrmed after the temple destruction. Certainly one of Mark’s goals was to present Jesus as a powerful prophet. This goal is accomplished by recording Jesus’ prophecy of the temple destruction. A second possible motivation is the need to provide stability and understanding during a time of crisis. The time of the temple’s destruction was likely a time of crisis and confusion for many in the early church and perhaps those in Mark’s community. Questions surrounding the meaning of the destruction and its implications for eschatological expectations were likely quite pressing. By including Jesus’ prophecy of the temple’s 54
As we discussed in chapter one, this situation is exactly what Willi Marxsen describes. He argues that Mark perceives the impending destruction of the temple, and therefore urges the Christians living there to ee to Pella (which Marxsen locates in Galilee). However, as we noted in chapter one, writing a gospel in order to make such a plea seems unlikely. See Marxsen, Evangelist.
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destruction, Mark helps to answer his community’s questions and calm their fears. The prophecy takes a cataclysmic event and places it into the sphere of God’s control: there is nothing to fear because the temple’s destruction is part of God’s plan and God’s messiah has proclaimed it. Jesus’ prediction also takes the sting out of Roman power and authority: this power is not to be feared because it is simply an instrument to accomplish God’s purpose. We can now compare the motivations for a pre factum prophecy with those of a post factum prophecy. Of the three pre factum motivations, the rst, a desire to include authentic Jesus tradition, ignores the author’s creative and selective use of sources, making it too general to be compelling. The second and third – the desire to critique temple corruption and the desire to record the temple’s imminent destruction – seem inconsistent with the historical realties of the rst century. Therefore, none of these motivations for a pre factum prophecy is overly compelling. However, we nd the post factum motivations consistent with both Mark’s presentation of Jesus as a powerful prophet and the situation in which the church likely found itself after the temple’s destruction. Therefore, the criterion of motivation seems to favor the plausibility of a post factum prophecy. The Criterion of Risk-Reward The fth criterion for determining whether a prophecy is pre factum or post factum examines the risk-reward ratio surrounding the inclusion of the prophecy. The higher an author’s risk-reward ratio is for including a prophecy the less likely it is that the prophecy is pre factum. The lower the author’s riskreward ratio is for including the prophecy, the more likely it is that the prophecy is pre factum. This criterion is based on the simple but sound notion that the amount of risk an individual is willing to take is directly related to the reward he or she might receive. High risk is only taken to gain a proportionately high reward. Here we will seek to determine the evangelist’s risk-reward ratio for including the temple prophecy both pre factum and post factum. What risks does Mark take by including a prophecy regarding the temple’s destruction pre factum? The answer to this question is clear. Since Mark has Jesus make this prophecy, the credibility of Jesus, Mark’s central gure, is at risk. Given that much of Mark’s gospel (if not all of it) is devoted to promoting Jesus, including this prophecy was quite risky. If the temple is not destroyed, then Mark’s Jesus is easily discredited, as is Mark’s gospel. But what of Mark’s reward for including such a prophecy pre factum? Is it proportionate to the risk? Perhaps, as we noted above, Mark was able to advance an antitemple motif through this prophecy and highlight God’s impending judgment of what the evangelist perceived to be a corrupt institution. Or perhaps Mark was simply warning his readers of what he perceived to be the impending and cataclysmic destruction of the temple. But these rewards do not seem proportionate to Mark’s risk. At best they advance relatively minor Markan themes
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and are ancillary to Mark’s most signicant theme of Christology. Therefore, in claiming that Mark’s prophecy of the temple’s destruction is pre factum, we are claiming that Mark was willing to risk his christological presentation of Jesus – a Markan theme closely related to Mark’s overall purpose – for the sake of minor themes that are only ancillary to the gospel’s primary message. Therefore, Mark’s risk-reward ratio for including a pre factum prophecy of the temple’s destruction is quite high – a fact that decreases the plausibility of a pre factum prophecy. However, we must consider other realities that might mitigate this high risk-reward ratio for the evangelist? One could point to the open-ended nature of the prophecy. Jesus puts no time-table on when the temple’s destruction will occur. Though the reader of Mark may be living in a day when the temple is still standing, this does not mean the prophecy is false. The prophecy can still nd fulllment at some future point. Many faith traditions have dealt with troublesome prophecies in this manner. Yet though this solution may satisfy some, there are certainly others whom it would not satisfy. Some readers who see the temple standing will question the credibility of the prophet who predicted its destruction. Why would Mark unnecessarily open Jesus up to this type of criticism. The risk becomes even greater if Mark is writing during the Jewish Revolt. Suddenly Mark’s prophecy is surrounded by historical constraints. Mark’s readers will certainly understand the prophecy in terms of the Jewish Revolt, and the evangelist’s backdoor of an open-ended prophecy is slammed shut. If the Jewish Revolt did not result in the temple’s destruction but rather in Jewish victory (which, as we noted above, many Jews and possibly even Christians likely perceived as a possible outcome), a default to open-ended prophecy would fall on deaf ears. Jesus’ prophecy of the temple’s destruction would mean little if Jerusalem and its temple stood triumphant against the forces of Rome. If Mark saw even the slightest possibility of this outcome, would he jeopardize his presentation of Jesus by including such a prophecy against it? It seems it would be an unnecessary risk by the evangelist. We also must consider whether there is evidence of Mark taking similar prophetic risks elsewhere in his gospel? If it can be demonstrated that Mark makes or records risky prophecies elsewhere, then perhaps the appearance of one regarding the temple would be less signicant. Mark records many prophecies by Jesus – his own death and resurrection, Peter’s denial, Judas’ betrayal – but all of these have been fullled before the time of Mark’s composition. The only outstanding prophecy in Mark yet to be fullled is the future coming of the Son of Man. Yet this prophecy can hardly be seen to carry the same risks as the prophecy of the temple’s destruction. It is not constrained by history in nearly the same way as the temple prophecy; therefore, the open-ended nature of the prophecy can be used to explain a
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delayed Parousia.55 This prophecy is also much more crucial to the faith of the early church and to Mark’s presentation of Jesus than is the temple prophecy. From a very early date, the church eagerly anticipated Jesus’ return and placed great importance on it. Mark’s inclusion of this prophecy is in line with the priority of this belief in the early church. It is also important to Mark’s presentation of Jesus as the Son of Man who will one day return. If Jesus is the messianic Son of God who is forever absent from his people, much of his signicance is lost. Mark’s inclusion of the prophecy of the coming Son of Man, though it may involve some risk, is essential to Jesus’ identity in Mark and to the faith of the church (unlike the prophecy of the temple’s destruction). It is, therefore, a risk Mark must take and, unlike the temple prophecy, it cannot be left out. But at no other point did Mark risk the validity of his gospel by including prophecies that have yet to be fullled. We can conclude that Mark would risk a great deal (the very validity of his gospel and its central gure, Jesus) by including a pre factum prophecy regarding the temple’s destruction. Perhaps more importantly, the reward for such a great risk is minimal. A great risk for such a small gain seems highly unlikely. The absence of such risks elsewhere in Mark only conrms this conclusion. But if Mark recorded this prophecy post factum, he risked nothing and, as we have demonstrated above, he gained a great deal (Jesus is conrmed as a great prophet, God is understood as in control in the midst of crisis, encouragement is given to confused and frightened disciples, and the power of Rome is disarmed). The criterion of risk-reward, therefore, strongly favors the conclusion that Mark’s temple prophecy is post factum rather than pre factum. Conclusions to be Drawn from the Criteria After applying these ve criteria to Mark’s temple prophecy, we can make the following conclusions. While the rst three criteria (specicity, reasonableness, and similarity) increase the plausibility that Mark’s temple prophecy is pre factum, they neither necessitate such a conclusion, nor do they preclude the possibility of a post factum prophecy. But the last two criteria (motivation and risk-reward) do undermine the plausibility of a pre factum identication and, at the same time, strongly favor the plausibility of identifying the prophecy as post factum. Therefore, on the strength of these nal two criteria, we conclude that Mark’s temple prophecy is best identied as a post factum, and that its presence in Mark betrays a post-70 date of composition. 55
It could be argued that this passage is restrained somewhat by Mark 9:1, which claims that some of Jesus’ disciples will not die until they see the kingdom of God “come in power.” The meaning of this verse for Mark is debated. But if it is understood to refer to the return of Son of Man, and the establishment of God’s eschatological kingdom, then the Son of Man prophecy would have some historical restraints.
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2.2.4 Reading Mark 13 in Light of a Post-70 Date of Composition After concluding that Mark’s temple prophecy is best understood as post factum, we must determine whether this conclusion is compatible with the rest of Mark’s gospel or even more specically with chapter 13. For many interpreters, the relationship between the details of Mark 13 and the historical events behind them is determinative for dating Mark. The majority of interpreters understand the details of Mark 13 against the backdrop of the Jewish Revolt, and its culmination in the temple’s destruction. But, as we noted previously, interpreters differ on the temporal perspective of the chapter – whether it was written prior to the temple’s destruction and is primarily looking forward to the future (what we will call the anticipatory interpretation)56 or it was written after the temple’s destruction and is looking backward to the past (what we will call descriptive interpretation).57 Those who posit the descriptive interpretation generally see verses 5–23 as a description of completed history, namely the Jewish War, the temple’s destruction and the suffering that surrounded both.58 Those who posit the anticipatory interpretation generally see these verses as a description of the current realities of the Jewish Revolt that both Mark and his readers are experiencing (or have recently experienced) and the future realities that they will soon encounter.59 The anticipatory interpretation, however, does not comport with our previous conclusions regarding Mark’s prophecy of the temple’s destruction. As we concluded above, it seems quite unlikely that Mark would have risked his gospel’s credibility by including such an unfullled prophecy. If we rejected the plausibility of Mark 13:2 as a pre factum prophecy, we must conclude that Mark was written after the events of the Jewish Revolt. This conclusion leaves us with the descriptive interpretation that views the majority of Mark 13 as completed history, a position with its own signicant difculties. Here we will give a general sketch of the traditional descriptive interpretation.60 Verses 5–8 are often understood in light of the realities of the Jewish Revolt, (e.g., “wars and rumors of war,” “nation rising against 56
For a list of such interpreters, see n. 33 above. For a list of such interpreters, see n. 32 above. 58 Certainly variation exists within these numerous interpretations, but they generally understand Mark 13 in light of the destruction of the Jerusalem temple. We note a handful of exceptions below. 59 Among the many interpreters who hold that Mark was writing during the Jewish Revolt but prior to the destruction of the temple, some understand the details of Mark 13 to originate almost completely from past historical realities, while others see the details originating primarily from authentic Jesus tradition. Also among these interpreters there is variation of opinion as to how much of Mark 13 has been experienced or is being experienced and how much yet remains to be experienced. 60 Again variation of opinion among interpreters exists, but this generic model is helpful in evaluating the position as a whole. 57
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nation”) and Jewish messianic pretenders who were active during the revolt.61 Verses 9–13 are generally understood to reference past, present, or future suffering (or possibly all three).62 Generally verses 14–23 are understood in light of Jerusalem’s destruction and, more specically, the destruction of the temple itself. Though the exact referent for the “abomination of desolation” is debated, it is generally equated with an event closely related to the Jerusalem temple.63 The immense suffering that followed the abomination is equated with the suffering experienced in Jerusalem during its capture. But interpreters who date Mark before 70 C.E. have leveled many valid critiques against this interpretation. Many details of the discourse do not t with the historical realities surrounding the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple. For example, it is difcult to understand why an author who knows that the temple’s destruction occurred in the summer would include a petition that it not occur in the winter (13:18). Another difculty that arises when equating the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple with Mark 13, concerns chronology. If Mark 13 is recording a description of the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple, it has its order of events confused. In Mark 13, the temple’s destruction (if this event is to be equated with the “abomination of desolation”) precedes the great persecution. It is the sign of imminent destruction. But in actuality, the temple’s destruction ended the siege of Jerusalem. The temple’s destruction did not ignite an onslaught of persecution; rather, it was the culmination of years of suffering. Mark also describes the tribulation surrounding these events as being greater than any seen on the earth since its creation, and he claims that none greater will ever be seen again. The language has a clear apocalyptic tenor to it, and it seems to describe the world’s nal period of suffering. It is difcult to understand why Mark would use this apocalyptic language of suffering to describe a past event that in actuality never lived up to his description. Certainly, it was a horric experience for those involved, but it was relatively 61 Brandon, “Date of Mark,” 136–37; Gnilka, Nach Markus, 186–88; Hooker, “Trials,” 85–86; Marcus, “Jewish War,” 446–47; Peerbolte, Antecedents, 30–31; Donahue, Are You the Christ?, 217–24; Donahue and Harrington, Mark, 369; Moloney, Mark, 254–56. 62 Theissen sees these verses as a description of the suffering Christians might have experienced in Syria after the destruction of the temple, though he offers no historical evidence of such suffering. See Theissen, Context, 270. Hooker also sees these verses as instructions to Mark’s community regarding future suffering; Hooker, “Trials and Tribulations,” 88–89; see also Peerbolte, Antecedents, 32–35; Moloney, Mark, 256–58; Donahue and Harrington, Mark, 380. For Brandon these verses have an eye on both the past suffering under Nero and the possibility of future suffering; Brandon, “Date of Mark,” 137. 63 Marcus understands this phrase as a reference to the presence of Zealot warriors in the temple, “The Jewish War,” 461–62; see also Lane, Mark, 469. Pesch understands this phrase as a reference to Titus’ entrance into the holy of holies after his armies had occupied the temple (Pesch, Markusevangelium, 2:291); see also Lührmann, Markusevangelium, 221–22; Peerbolte, Antecedents, 35–41; Moloney, Mark, 259–60; Such, Abomination of Desolation.
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isolated, with little direct effect on the majority of the Christian church.64 The siege of Jerusalem and the temple’s destruction hardly live up to Mark’s description, suggesting that these events were not the events Mark intended to describe. Perhaps the greatest problem for understanding Mark 13 as completed history is the claim that immediately following the temple’s destruction and the time of tribulation the Son of Man would return (13:24–27).65 If Mark is writing after Jerusalem’s destruction, this claim makes little sense, for we are only left to conclude that Mark is living and writing during the time in which he claims the Parousia should be taking place! Given the impossible nature of such a conclusion, we must reject the notion that verses 14–23 are describing the culmination of the Jewish Revolt. For all of the above reasons, the descriptive interpretation fails to account for the details of Mark 13. If we reject the traditional critical position, we are left with only two options: (1) Mark wrote before 70 C.E. and anticipated both the temple’s destruction and the Parousia to follow or (2) Mark wrote after 70 C.E. and chapter 13 does not describe the temple’s destruction, but rather, a future reality for Mark and his community.66 Our analysis of Mark’s temple prophecy has led us to conclude that a pre-70 C.E. composition of Mark (option one) is unlikely. Therefore, we must examine our second option; that Mark is writing at some point after 70 C.E. and that he is describing future eschatological realities unrelated to the Jewish Revolt and the temple’s destruction. But can such a Sitz im Leben adequately explain the realities of Mark 13? We now turn to this question. Mark 13 begins with the disciples’ comments regarding the temple’s grandeur and Jesus’ prophecy of its destruction. In Mark’s narrative, this dialogue happens as Jesus and an unspecied number of disciples come out of the temple. In verse three, the location changes. There, Jesus is on the Mount of 64 It is debated whether or not the majority of the Jerusalem Christians suffered during the Jewish Revolt. Eusebius claims that most Jewish Christians ed to Pella, though his testimony is questioned by modern interpreters. See the discussion above on Pella, page 21. 65 There is some debate as to whether Mark intended the reader to understand that the events of verses 24–27 immediately followed the event of 14–23 or whether time between these series of events is allowed. But the entire discourse is one that addresses questions concerning the end of the age. The events of 14–23 are signs of the end of the age, which is clearly addressed in 24–27. To allow for an unspecied amount of time to occur between these series of events seems to interrupt the ow of the text. Such a conclusion should be rejected given that the motivation for such a reading seems to be the removal of the difculty that verses 24–27 pose for those interpreting 14–23 in light of the temple’s destruction. See Collins, Beginning, 86. We must note that Matthew – one of Mark’s earliest interpreters – eliminates this confusion by including the word eu qj e vwV (Matt 24:29). 66 Some interpreters who date Mark after 70 C.E. have concluded that the “abomination of desolation,” of Mark 13 is not a reference to the temple’s destruction, but rather is a general reference to an “antichrist” gure; see Kelber, Kingdom, 119–20; Gnilka, Markus, 2:195–99.
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Olives (across from the temple) and is talking with Peter, James, and John. The three disciples pose the following question to Jesus, “Tell us, when will these things be, and what will be the sign when all these things are about to be accomplished?” What is the subject of the disciples’ question? The traditional answer is the temple’s destruction that Jesus prophesied in verse 2. But why then do they use the plural pronoun ' “these things” as opposed to the singular pronoun ' “this thing,” if they are only interested in a single event, the temple’s destruction? The grammar here would indicate that the disciples are not interested in the temple’s destruction alone (if at all) but other signicant events. The abrupt change of scenery between verses 1–2 and verse 3 also may distance Jesus’ prophecy concerning the temple from the disciples’ question and indicate that the temple’s destruction is no longer the central issue. Jesus’ response to their question seems to conrm this. Nowhere in Jesus’ response (verses 5–27) does he explicitly mention the temple or its destruction. Instead, Jesus speaks of signs that will precede the coming of the Son of Man and the end of the age. This evidence suggests that the antecedent for ' is not the temple’s destruction, but rather the events surrounding the eschaton, events that Jesus is about to describe. The question has no direct relationship to the temple prophecy of verse 2, but rather was created for the purpose of introducing a discourse on the events that will precede the end of the age. Matthew (perhaps our rst known interpreter of Mark) has clearly understood Mark in this way and has made the disciples’ question explicitly refer to the eschaton. Luke, who is notorious for mitigating references to an imminent Parousia, has backed off from this interpretation and has linked the question almost explicitly to the Jerusalem destruction. Therefore, it seems quite plausible that Jesus’ discourse (verses 5–27) is concerned with the events of the nal age and not with the events surrounding the temple’s destruction. Before we examine Jesus’ response to the disciples’ question, a preliminary observation is needed. Though Mark has the disciples ask the question, it seems quite likely that this question is actually a question Mark’s community asked, namely “when will the end come?” Certainly this community was interested in the eschaton and the Parousia. Jesus’ discourse serves to address the eschatological questions not asked by the historical disciples but by Mark’s audience.67 It would perhaps ease their anxieties, fears, and confusion – fears and confusion that would no doubt abound following an event such as the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple. Jesus’ response can be divided into four different sections: (1) universal catastrophes preceding tribulation (vs. 5–8), (2) personal catastrophes preceding tribulation (vs. 9–13), (3) unprecedented tribulation (vs. 14–23), and (4) the coming of the Son of Man following tribulation (vs. 24–27). Section 67
For a similar conclusion see Roskam, Purpose, 55–72.
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one addresses the events in the recent past and immediate present of Mark’s readers. The messages of “wars and rumors of wars” and “nation rising against nation and kingdom against kingdom” are realities through which Mark’s readers have lived. It is quite possible that Mark has the Jewish Revolt in mind or perhaps the civil war of 69 C.E., which left the Roman Empire in chaos.68 Mark also speaks of people coming in the name of Christ and warns against following such deception.69 It is important to note, however, none of these things is an immediate precursor to the end; they are described only as “the beginning of birth pains.”70 It seems likely that recent events increased both eschatological anxieties and eschatological expectations within Mark’s community. Some members of the community may have chosen to follow false teachers/messianic claimants or perhaps were tempted to do so as a result of confusion surrounding the eschaton. The Markan Jesus speaks to this situation and assures the community that the end is not yet here and reminds them that they must remain faithful in the interim. The chaos in the world around them is only the precursor to the tribulation that is to come. The primary purpose of section one, therefore, is to tell Mark’s readers not to be misled and that the events they are experiencing are not signs that the end is imminent. Section two (9–13) addresses personal persecution and suffering that Mark’s readers either were experiencing, expected to experience, or had experienced in the recent past. The persecution involves being “handed over to councils,” “beaten in synagogues,” and “standing before governors and kings.” Though these examples may have direct corollaries in the lives of Mark’s readers, they could be more generic examples of suffering. Perhaps they nd their corollaries in past persecutions and are here being projected on the suffering or anticipated suffering of Mark’s readers. We can be fairly certain that Mark perceived this suffering to come from public or possibly religious ofcials. All of this suffering results from faithfulness to Jesus, and, in fact, is seen as an opportunity for true disciples to bear witness to Jesus. The one who endures this persecution for the sake of Jesus and does not fall away will be saved. But again, the persecution described in section two should not be associated with the coming of the eschaton, but rather is a description of the normative reality for Jesus’ disciples, i.e., Mark’s readers. The reader is 68
See Hengel, Studies, 22–24. There is debate over who these false teachers represent. Some claim that they are messianic pretenders associated with the Jewish Revolt; see Roskam, Purpose, 95–97; Marcus, “Jewish War,” 44; Collins, “Apocalyptic Rhetoric,” BibRes 41 (1996): 5–36, esp. 15; eadem, Beginning, 81–82; see van Iersel, Mark, 44–45, for a critique of Collins in particular. Others have argued that they are false teachers among Mark’s community, perhaps teachers who are proclaiming that the Parousia has already taken place; see Kelber, Kingdom, 115; Taylor, Mark, 503; David Daube, The New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism (London: Athlone Press, 1956), 325–29; van Iersel, Mark, 394–95, et al. 70 See Hooker, “Trials and Tribulations,” 84–90. 69
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reminded, as in section one, that the experience of this personal persecution is not a sign of the imminent eschaton. Until verse 14, the purpose of Jesus’ teaching is restraint. The message is, “Yes chaotic events will take place and you will suffer persecution but the end is yet to come.” It is in section three that Jesus nally gives the sign that will mark the beginning of the end and so that the disciples (Mark’s readers) will receive the answer to their question. This transition is signaled by the phrase ( " )*, “but when you see.” The “abomination of desolation standing where it ought not to be” is the sign warning Mark’s readers that the end is imminent. But to what then is Mark referring? The reference itself certainly nds its origins in septuagintal version of Daniel 12:11: “From when the perpetual sacrice is removed and the abomination of desolation [+ -. / *0] is prepared to be established, [there will be] a thousand two hundred and ninety days.”71 A similar reference is made in LXX Daniel 11:31: “Forces from him shall be established and profane the holy place of fear and take away the sacrice and give the abomination of desolation [-. *0].”72 -. *0 also appears in 1 Maccabees 1:54 and is most certainly an allusion to the Danielic abomination: “Now on the fteenth day of Chislev, in the one hundred and forty-fth year, they erected an abomination of desolation [-. *0] upon the altar of burnt offering. They also built altars in the surrounding cities of Judah.” These references describe the actions of Antiochus IV, who deled the Jewish temple by instituting pagan worship within it. Reinforcing this connection between pagan worship and this unique phrase is the way in which -. is used in the LXX. It is frequently used in reference to pagan worship or idolatry.73 Mark’s use of this specic phrase should likely be seen against this background of pagan worship/idolatry. But Mark’s exact referent for the “abomination of desolation” is difcult to determine. Given the two considerations with which we began this section – (1) that Mark was written after 70 C.E. and (2) that Mark’s purpose is to inform his readers regarding the coming eschaton – we can conclude that this event lies in the future for Mark and his readers. It is an event for which Mark’s readers can look to as a sign that the end is imminent. Therefore, any reference to the “abomination of desolation” that precedes or is directly related to the temple’s destruction must be rejected, e.g., Pilate’s attempt to bring Caesar’s image into the city, Caligula’s attempt to erect a statue of himself in the temple,74 the presence of Jewish Zealots or priests ordained by 71 Translation original, dependent upon Rahlfs’ text of the LXX. A. Rahlfs, Septuagint, id est, Vetus Testamentum Graece iuxta LXX interpretes (2 vols.; 8th ed.; Stuttgart: Württembergische Bibelanstalt, 1965). 72 Original translation, dependent upon Rahlfs’ text of the LXX. 73 Deut 7:25,26; 17:4; 18:12; 27:15; 1 Macc 6:7; Wis 14:11; Mal 2:11; Jer 2:7; et al. 74 For interpreters who see the Caligula crisis as a background to Mark 13:14 (or at
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Zealots working in the temple,75 or even Titus’ presence in the temple following its destruction.76 Given the background surrounding + -. / *0,it seems likely that the event that Mark anticipates will be related in some way to pagan worship or idolatry and could possibly be similar to actions of Antiochus IV. Theissen has argued that Mark is referring to the anticipated construction of a pagan temple on the site where the Jewish temple once stood.77 Though Theissen’s theory is quite attractive, it is impossible to determine whether Mark has such a specic referent in mind. It is possible that + -. / *0 represents a common Christian belief that the eschaton would be preceded by an idolatrous act of great signicance – one which was reminiscent of or of similar magnitude to that of Antiochus IV. Regardless of the way in which that act would be manifested, it would not be misunderstood by the people of God, and it would stand as a clear marker of the imminent end of the age. A similar tradition may be expressed in 2 Thessalonians 2:3–4: “Let no one deceive you in any way; for that day will not come unless the rebellion comes rst and the lawless one is revealed, the one destined for destruction. He opposes and exalts himself above every socalled god or object of worship, so that he takes his seat in the temple of God, declaring himself to be God.” Mark 13:14 could reect both the Jewish and later Christian belief that the eschaton would be preceded by the rise of an apocalyptic gure who would oppose both God and his messiah.78 Against this conclusion, one could argued that Mark’s use of + -. / *0presupposes the temple’s existence and that a generic identication of this event (such as we have offered here) is impossible. It is true that both Daniel and 1 Maccabees specically link the phrase + -. / *0 to the temple, but it is uncertain that Mark’s use of the phrase in the rst century also carries this same link. We know little about the development of this phrase from its use in 1 Maccabees (ca. 100 B.C.E.) up to the late least behind the pre-Markan tradition) see N. H. Taylor, “Palestinian Christianity and the Caligula Crisis: Part II. The Markan Eschatological Discourse,” JSNT 62 (1996): 13–41; Grundmann, Markus, 358; Gnilka, Markus, 2:194; et al. 75 See n. 63 above. 76 See n. 63 above. 77 Theissen, Context, 258–64. 78 For those interpreters who understand the + -. / *0 as a reference to the antichrist, see, along with n. 56, Lohmeyer, Markus, 275–76; Klostermann, Markusevangelium, 135; H. Anderson, The Gospel of Mark (NCB; London: Oliphants, 1976), 296; J. Ernst, Das Evangelium nach Markus (RNT; Regensburg: Pustet Verlag, 1998), 379. For dissenting opinions, see Peerbolte, Antecedents, 35–41. For further discussion on the concept of antichrist in Second Temple Judaism see G. W. Lorein, The Antichrist Theme in the Intertestamental Period (JSPSup 44; London: T & T Clark, 2003). Lorein makes a strong case that the idea of an antichrist gure was well established by the end of the intertestmenal period. If Lorein is correct, then it seems plausible that Mark 13 simply reects the continuation of this tradition.
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rst century. In a post-temple period, there seems to be no reason why the use of this phrase could not be maintained to describe unspeakable idolatry, while its association with the temple (which no longer was standing) could be abandoned.79 Yet does the description of the+ -. / *0 as “standing” or “established” in the place “where it ought not be” indicate a reference to the Jerusalem temple? Such an interpretation is certainly possible but not necessary. A metaphysical rather than physical location could be intended. Therefore, the place that is wrongfully occupied could be the place of divine recognition: that which is not divine (or is not God’s representative) is receiving the recognition of the divine and “is established where it/he ought not to be.” Understanding + -. / *0 to be a reference to a future idolatrous action unrelated to the temple is therefore plausible. Any attempt to link it with either a known historical event or a specic expectation is both unnecessary and difcult to prove. The idolatrous event of verse 14 will usher in a time of great tribulation, which will be unsurpassed in human history (13:19). Because of this coming tribulation, the reader is warned to ee immediately. The plight of pregnant or nursing women will be even greater because ight from danger will be difcult (13:17). These days will be cut short by God for the sake of his elect. Had they not been divinely curtailed, all of humanity would perish. During this time, false christs and false prophets will attempt to deceive people through signs and wonders, but the elect will not be deceived. With these verses, Mark continues to instruct his readers about eschatological expectations. The eschaton will be immediately preceded by unmatched persecution, one that requires immediate ight to safety. It will surpass any suffering that Mark’s readers may have already endured (see 13:9–13). Mark continues his theme of discipleship in this section by warning his readers that despite the convincing proofs of false christs and prophets, they must remain faithful. This time of tribulation and the false christs that accompany it should not surprise Mark’s readers, for they have been warned in advance. Section four discusses the events that will immediately follow the great tribulation of section three. It is in fact the climax of the entire discourse, for it describes both the coming Son of Man (the Parousia) and the salvation that he will bring for the elect. The coming of the Son of Man will be preceded by astrological signs, i.e., the darkening of the sun and moon, the falling of stars, and the shaking of the heavens. These signs reect common apocalyptic imagery. The Son of Man who returns in the clouds is probably Jesus and may be an allusion to Daniel 7:13. The reference to the Danielic Son of Man certainly implies the establishment of the eschatological kingdom of God though it is not explicitly stated here. Angels will gather God’s elect, namely those 79 If Theissen’s theory is accepted, Mark would then be referring to an idolatrous object/ person standing where the temple had once stood.
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who have remained faithful disciples. Section four marks the beginning of the eschaton that Mark’s readers are anxiously awaiting. This interpretation of chapter 13 is certainly plausible and also seems to explain the details of the discourse more adequately than the alternative interpretations mentioned above. The eschatological discourse, therefore, does not pose a problem for a post-70 dating of Mark and may be best understood in light of such a dating. 2.2.5 Conclusions concerning Mark’s Date of Composition Here we have tried to show that the external evidence, though not determinative, for the dating of Mark, favors a lower limit of 65 C.E., a time after the deaths of Peter and Paul. Two internal factors, eschatological expectations and the presence of a world-wide mission, support this lower limit. But the most important piece of internal evidence is the prophecy of the temple’s destruction. In determining whether this prophecy was recorded by the evangelist pre factum or post factum, we considered ve criteria. While three criteria (specicity, reasonableness, and similarity) supported the plausibility of a pre factum prophecy, two criteria (motivation and risk-reward) undermined the plausibility of a pre factum identication and strongly favored the probability of a post factum prophecy. Therefore, based on this piece of internal evidence, we must conclude that Mark was written no earlier than 70 C.E., at some point after the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple. To conclude our argument, we have sought to demonstrate that a post 70 dating of Mark could adequately explain the realities found in Mark 13. Our discussion of Mark’s purpose will continue, therefore, in light of a post 70 C.E. date for Mark’s composition.
2.3 Mark’s Provenance Only three noteworthy candidates nd themselves in the debate regarding Mark’s provenance.80 The more traditionally accepted location for Mark’s composition (and still the most frequently posited among interpreters) is Rome.81 For the last two millennia this has been the accepted tradition of the church and most biblical interpreters. During the early twentieth century, however, a 80 For an overview of scholarship on Mark’s provenance see J. R. Donahue, “The Quest for the Community of Mark’s Gospel,” in The Four Gospels 1992 FS F. Neirynck (ed. F. van Segbroek, et al.; BETL 100B; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1992), 2:817–38 81 For interpreters who advance a Roman provenance see Ernst, Markus, 1:112–14; Hengel, Studies, 1–30; R. E. Brown and J. P. Meier, Antioch and Rome: New Testament Cradles of Catholic Christianity (New York: Paulist Press, 1983), 191–97; Guelich, Mark, xxix– xxxi; Hooker, “Trials and Tribulations,” 78–99; idem, Mark; Lane, Mark, 24–25; van Iersel, Mark, 30–57; et al. Black claims that while a Roman provenance for Mark is not improbable, it is not certain; see Black, Mark, 238–39; idem, “Was Mark a Roman Gospel?” ExpTim 105 (1993–1994), 36–40; Incigneri, Setting and Rhetoric, 59–108, 156–202.
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handful of interpreters argued against the traditional provenance in favor of Galilee.82 Though this position has not found a great deal of support among interpreters, it continues to nd a place in current debates and thus we will consider it here. More recently, however, a signicant number of interpreters have argued for a Syrian provenance.83 Though it does not seem Syria has eclipsed Rome as the answer to this debate, it does seem to be the location du jour for a growing number of Markan interpreters. Here we will examine all three positions in light of both the external and internal evidence. 2.3.1 Rome: The External Evidence The external evidence for Mark’s provenance overlaps a good deal with the external evidence for Mark’s dating. The earliest testimony that gives any indication about the location for Mark is again found in Irenaeus (see Irenaeus’ testimony above). Though Irenaeus does not explicitly claim that Mark was written in Rome, the fact that he connects its composition to Peter’s and Paul’s deaths in Rome seems to imply a Roman provenance. The “antiMarcionite” prologue explicitly states that Mark was written in the “regions of Italy.” If the prologue was familiar with a Roman provenance for Mark it is peculiar that it would offer a general location (Italy) rather than a specic one (Rome). The reference to Italy could simply be a stylistic circumlocution for Rome or it could actually betray uncertainty in the author’s understanding of his tradition (perhaps that of Irenaeus). Regardless, the prologue’s testimony places the composition of Mark closer to Rome than to the alternative positions (Syria or Galilee) and is, therefore, best seen as evidence for a western provenance. Clement of Alexandria also designates Rome as the place of Mark’s composition. These three early witnesses are afrmed by a number of later witnesses (Origen, Eusebius, the Monarchian gospel prologues, Epiphianus, and Jerome).84 The virtual unanimity of this ancient testimony has long convinced interpreters that Mark’s provenance is indeed Rome. But more critical scrutiny of this ancient evidence raises doubts about its worth. Clifton Black has noted that most ancient witnesses regarding the Markan origins agree on two things: 82 See Lohmeyer, Markus, 29–31; Lightfoot, Locality; Marxsen, Evangelist, 54–116; N. Perrin, “Towards an Interpretation of the Gospel of Mark,” in Christology and a Modern Pilgrimage (ed. H. D. Betz; Claremont: SBL, 1971), 1–78; Weeden, Traditions; Kelber, Kingdom; and most recently Roskam, Purpose, 75–114. 83 See Kee, Community, 102–5; B. Mack, A Myth of Innocence: Mark and Christian Origins (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1988); Waetjen, Reordering, 15, 251; J. Donahue, “Windows and Mirror,” 1–26; idem, Are You the Christ?; Marcus, “Jewish War,” 141–62; Such, Abomination of Desolation; Theissen, Context, 235–81; et al. 84 In fact, only one ancient witness, John Chrysostom (writing in the late 4th century) offers an alternative provenance: Egypt. This tradition of an Egyptian provenance almost certainly originated from the tradition that Mark was at one point the bishop of Alexandria; see the Monarchian prologue for Mark where this tradition rst appears.
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(1) that Mark is in some way linked to the apostle Peter and (2) that Mark was written in Rome.85 He notes that no link between Mark and Rome exist apart from a link between Mark and Peter, yet there are examples of the reverse; i.e., a link exists between Mark and Peter with no connection to Rome. He then concludes that it is highly possible that Mark’s connection with Rome is only derived from the tradition of Petrine authority behind Mark. Such a derivation could easily come from 1 Peter 5:13, which places Mark with Peter in Rome (Babylon). The explanation for a Roman provenance of Mark then is as follows: (1) Papias testies to a link between Peter and Mark, (2) the Papias tradition is read in light of 1 Peter 5:13, which links Mark and Peter to Rome, and (3) the tradition of a Roman provenance for Mark is created and then parroted by later ancient witnesses. If this interpretation of the evidence is accepted, the ancient witness of a Roman provenance for Mark is worthless. But Black’s reconstruction of the origin of the Mark/Rome tradition is problematic. He begins by noting that Mark/Peter traditions stand alone but Mark/Rome traditions never exist apart from Mark/Peter traditions. From this evidence he suggests that Mark/Rome traditions are likely dependent on Mark/Peter traditions. There are a number of problems with Black’s argument. First, he is trying to establish a pattern based on a very small sample of evidence. Black is only considering seven witnesses.86 Five of these include traditions linking Mark with Peter and Rome and two only link Mark to Peter. With such a small number of exceptions (two), it is hard to establish the kind of pattern that Black suggests. Because of the small number of exceptions, the possibility increases that factors other than those suggested might account for them. The possibility of alternative explanations decreases with a larger number of exceptions. The absence of a Mark/Rome tradition in these two ancient witnesses does not have to be explained by their ignorance of such a tradition, but rather could be explained by each witness’s unique concern or interest. When we look at these exceptions, such an alternative explanation becomes quite plausible. The rst witness who links the evangelist Mark with Peter but not with Rome is Papias. But it is not Papias’ intention to pass on a thorough account of the origins of each gospel (in fact there is no mention of Luke’s origins at all). Rather, Papias is attempting to explain why certain gospels (Matthew and Mark in particular) differ in their order of events while also validating those differences. Papias points out that the evangelist Mark was not an eyewitness but was dependent on traditions from Peter. For Papias, this fact explains what some might perceive to be errors in Markan order. Mark’s connection with Peter is therefore necessary in order for Papias to make his point, whereas the 85
Black, Mark, 224–25. Here we are only considering witnesses who pre-date the early fourth century C.E. Black considers later witnesses, but for our purposes these are less relevant. 86
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location of Mark’s composition is not. Concerning Papias’ knowledge about Mark’s provenance, we can only speculate. The second witness who mentions a connection between Mark and Peter without mentioning a link between Mark and Rome is Tertullian. But Tertullian’s purpose is to defend the apostolic authority of each gospel and not simply to pass along traditions regarding gospel origins. Mark’s provenance is completely unrelated to Tertullian’s purpose and, therefore, it is not surprising that we do not nd a reference to it along with the reference made to Mark’s relationship to Peter. Again we can make no statement about Tertullian’s knowledge of or belief in a Roman provenance for Mark, either positive or negative. There is no reason to conclude that the Papias or Tertullian traditions were unfamiliar with a Mark/Rome tradition. The absence of a Mark/Rome tradition could be due to the lack of relevance the tradition had for the author’s present purpose, rather than due to the author’s ignorance of the tradition. Black’s evidence, therefore, does not clearly demonstrate that a Mark/Rome tradition was derived from a Mark/Peter tradition. We do not have enough information to determine whether one tradition preceded the other or whether they both originated together. Another question about Black’s analysis of the ancient witness to Mark’s Roman provenance is how plausible it is that such a tradition would not only be created easily but also easily be propagated. In answering this question, the rst issue to address is that of motivation. What would motivate someone to create a tradition that Mark was composed in Rome? A Roman provenance would not give the gospel added credibility or authority. No early witness seems to value Mark strictly for its Roman origins. It is true that as the church in Rome became more prominent, Mark likely beneted from its connection to Rome. It may even be possible that Mark’s very survival depended on its perceived Roman roots. Traditionally, Mark was in the shadow of Matthew and Luke. One reason why these “greater” gospels did not completely eclipse Mark may have been Mark’s connection to the powerful church in Rome. But these factors were likely not in play during the mid-second century (or perhaps were only in early stages of development), the time in which we rst see testimony of a Roman provenance for Mark. An even less likely motivation is that a Mark/Rome tradition was created to promote the Roman church’s primacy over rival churches (e.g., Jerusalem, Antioch, or Alexandria). While rivalry between churches did exist and Rome did attempt to assert its primacy and authority over other churches as early as the mid-second century, there is no evidence that churches, even the church in Rome, used gospel provenances for such a purpose. In fact, given that Mark was treated as inferior to the other canonical gospels during the church’s early history, the degree to which it could promote the Roman church’s primacy would be negligible. In addition, if the Mark/Rome tradition was created to advance Roman primacy, we would expect our earliest sources for the tradi-
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tion to be of Roman origin, yet none of them are. In fact, our earliest sources that testify to Mark’s provenance – Irenaeus, the “anti-marcionite” prologue, and Clement of Alexandria – demonstrate no interest in promoting the Roman church’s primacy. Therefore, there is no reason to conclude that a Mark/Rome tradition was created for the purpose of promoting the primacy of the church in Rome. If the tradition of a Roman provenance for Mark was not created to increase the gospel’s credibility or to advance the Roman church’s primacy, few plausible motivations for its creation remain. Curiosity alone does not seem to be motivation enough to create a tradition regarding a gospel’s provenance. As evidence that ancient witnesses were not motivated by curiosity alone, we note the absence in their testimonies of traditions concerning the provenance for Luke’s gospel and only a generic provenance (“among the Hebrews” according to Irenaeus) for Matthew. Why are specic provenances not given for either of these gospels? If curiosity was motivation enough for our ancient witnesses to create traditions regarding gospel origins, it seems we might nd traditions claiming these gospels were produced in prominent Christian cities: perhaps Matthew in Jerusalem or Antioch or Luke in Ephesus or Philippi. That our ancient witnesses were reluctant to offer specic provenances for Matthew and Luke should make us pause before claiming that they have done so concerning a Markan provenance. That there is a virtual absence of doubt or dissension among our ancient witnesses regarding Mark’s Roman provenance also seems to speak against the possibility that it was simply the invention of the early church. If the tradition was an early church creation, we might expect to nd some hint of reservation among our witnesses, but we do not. Black’s analysis of the external evidence regarding Mark’s provenance seems unduly skeptical. A plausible motivation for creating and propagating such a tradition is indiscernible. That these same witnesses refused to create specic traditions regarding the provenance for Matthew or Luke speaks against a tendency in these witnesses to create traditions without cause. There is also no evidence directly indicating that these witnesses are ultimately dependent on 1 Peter 5:13 as Black suggests. But even though there are reasons to accept the authenticity of these traditions, their certainty remains elusive, while the skeptical conclusions of Black and others remain possible. In light of this uncertainty, the value of the external evidence for Mark’s provenance is somewhat mitigated, though not completely irrelevant. 2.3.2 Rome: The Internal Evidence Because of the skepticism surrounding the external evidence for Mark’s provenance, interpreters are forced to make a decision based on the internal evidence. Perhaps the most common piece of internal evidence offered in support of a Roman provenance is the frequency of Latin loan words and
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“Latinisms” within Mark’s text.87 It is argued that these Greek transcriptions of Latin words (caesar, census, denarius, agellare, grabatus, legio, modius, praetorium, sextarius, quadrans, et al.) betrays a western origin (Rome) rather than an eastern origin (Syria/Galilee). Not only does Mark contain Latin loan words but it also includes Latin idioms that are translated into unnatural Greek word combinations (1 2 = viam facere, 2:23; 03 3 = ultimum habere, 5:23; '0 4 = capite damnare 10:33; etc.).88 But the value of this evidence has been questioned. Although Latin was the primary language of Rome and the west, it was also known and used throughout the entire empire. In that many of the Latin terms found in Mark are related to political administration, the military, and the economy (money, measures, and weights), they would likely be well known throughout the entire empire and a Roman provenance of Mark is an unnecessary explanation.89 Aside from the common occurrence of Latin loan words, Hengel has noted the use of Graecized Latin expressions to explain common Greek words. In 12:42, Mark explains the Greek word . (a small copper coin) with the phrase ( 0 * (“which is a quadrans”). In 15:16, the Greek word 5. (courtyard/palace) is explained or claried with the phrase ( 0 (“which is the praetorium”). Based on these examples, it seems that Mark is writing to an audience that is more familiar with Latin than with Greek. But this evidence has not gone unchallenged. Joel Marcus has argued that Mark is not actually explaining unfamiliar words with more familiar ones, but rather is explaining unclear words with more precise words.90 While Marcus’ interpretation is possible, the possibility still remains that Mark is explaining unclear words to a Latin speaking audience. But the uncertainty surrounding this evidence mitigates its value for determining a Markan provenance. While all the Latinisms we have examined to this point can be explained without a Roman provenance for Mark, two more Latinisms exist within the gospel that are not so easily disregarded. Van Iersel provides two Latinisms that have not been adequately considered in the debate regarding Mark’s provenance. These Latinisms are much more subtle than those previously 87 For discussion on Latinisms in Mark, see van Iersel, Mark, 31–35; idem, “De thuishaven van Marcus,” TijdTheol 32 (1992): 125–42. Earlier works of some importance include F. Blass and A. Debrunner, A Greek Grammar of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (trans. R. W. Funk; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961), 4–6; C. H. Turner, “Marcan Usage: Notes, Critical and Exegetical, on the Second Gospel,” JTS 29 (1927–28): 352–59. 88 For these data, see van Iersel, Mark, 34. 89 See Kümmel, Introduction, 97–98; Telford, Mark, 24; Kelber, Kingdom, 129, n. 1; Pesch, Markusevangelium, 1:12, n. 1, 2; U. Schnelle, The History and the Theology of the New Testament Writings (trans. M. Eugene Boring; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1998), 238; et al. 90 Marcus, “Jewish War,” 142–46.
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examined because they are imbedded in the structure of the author’s language. They reect the inuence of a “Latin-speaking milieu on speakers whose mother-tongue was not Latin.”91 The rst of these Latinisms concerns the word order of verbs and substantives within the author’s sentence structure. In Greek, an accusative or dative generally follows the verb to which it belongs, while the reverse is true of Latin. This Latin word order occurs in Mark 37 times, signicantly more than it occurs in either Matthew or Luke. In Matthew and Luke, this Latinism occurs only twice independently of Mark (with 12 total occurrences in Matthew and 5 in Luke). The second of these Latinisms concerns the use of the word i n{ a when it is used in the same way as the Latin word ut following verbs of asking, persuading, speaking, or commanding.92 This construction occurs in Mark 31 times and has been preserved only eight times in Matthean parallels and four times in Lukan parallels. A number of Matthean and Lukan texts have maintained a Markan parallel but have altered the Markan use of 6 , replacing it with a more appropriate Greek construction. In material unique to Luke, this use of 6 occurs four times, while in unique Matthean material it occurs only twice. This evidence cannot easily be explained by the use of common Latin terms used in the market or by the resident military. It demonstrates that Mark’s writing, much more so than that of the authors of Matthew and Luke, was inuenced by Latin syntax. Such an inuence on an author’s writing style is much more likely if the author was writing in Rome rather than in Syria or Galilee. Another piece of evidence often offered for a Roman provenance of Mark is the motif of suffering discipleship. It has long been recognized that Mark is writing to those who either are experiencing or have recently experienced suffering and persecution (see Mark 8:34–38; 13:9–13).93 A Roman provenance for Mark explains this motif quite well. The most well known rstcentury persecution of Christians took place in Rome during 64 C.E. at the hand of the emperor Nero. This gruesome persecution is described vividly by the historian Tacitus: “And derision accompanied their end: they were covered with wild beasts’ skins and torn to death by dogs; or they were fastened on crosses, and, when daylight failed were burned to serve as lamps by night” (Ann. 15.44 [Jackson, LCL]). Mark’s call for members of his community to “take up [their] cross” and “lose [their lives] for the sake [of Jesus] and the gospel” (Mark 8:34–35) is easily understood in light of the terrible suffering they have endured (and may have to endure again) at the hands of the Roman emperor. Mark 13:12 quite plausibly reects the reality of family betrayal that 91
van Iersel, Mark, 34. Gundry makes a passing reference to this Latinism in Apology, 1044. 93 For examples, see J. R. Donahue, Theology and Setting of Discipleship; Kee, Community; E. Best, Disciples and Discipleship (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1986); idem, Following Jesus; Theissen, Gospels in Context; and Lane, Mark; Incigneri, Setting and Rhetoric, 105–108; et al. 92
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many experienced during Nero’s persecution. Tacitus reports that such behavior did in fact take place: “First, then, the confessed members of the sect were arrested; next, on their disclosures, vast numbers were convicted, not so much on the count of arson as for hatred of the human race” (Ann. 15.44 [Jackson, LCL]). The accusation that Christians were haters of the human race is striking when compared with Mark’s claim that believers “will be hated by all” (13:13). The Sitz im Leben of persecution that Mark’s text betrays can be linked with the city in which the most horric Christian suffering of the rst century took place, Rome. Before concluding, we must note that there is no signicant internal evidence against locating Mark’s composition in Rome. While we have noted attempts to weaken the evidence in favor of Mark’s Roman provenance, there is no evidence ruling out such a provenance. In conclusion, we have noted two signicant considerations regarding the internal evidence for Mark’s provenance. First is the large number of Latinisms in Mark compared to the number in the other two synoptic gospels, indicating a provenance where the inuence of Latin on the author would be prevalent. Rome is certainly a provenance that would explain this reality in Mark. Second is that the undercurrents of persecution in Mark strongly suggest a provenance where such persecution had been or was being experienced. Again a Roman provenance would explain this reality. 2.3.3 Galilee Before examining the evidence for either a Galilean or Syrian provenance for Mark, we must note that virtually all attempts to argue for one of these two locations begins with the devaluing of the evidence for a Roman provenance. It is only when an interpreter has removed the necessity of a Roman provenance that he or she feels free to make an alternative suggestion. In our discussion above, we have demonstrated that the evidence for locating Mark in Rome is not so easily dispensed with. We will now seek to determine whether the evidence for a Galilean or Syrian provenance is more convincing than the evidence in favor of Rome.94 Because there is no external evidence supporting a Galilean provenance for Mark, we turn directly to the internal evidence. A Galilean provenance for Mark was rst suggested by Ernst Lohmeyer, popularized by Willi Marxsen, and later restated by a handful of Markan interpreters.95 The original basis for the conclusion that Mark was written in Galilee was the dominance of the region within the Markan narrative. Through his redactional analysis of Mark, Marxsen concluded that many of the references to Galilee found their origins in Markan redaction. As we noted previously, Marxsen also theorized 94 95
See similar conclusions made by Incigneri, Setting and Rhetoric, 92–96. See n. 82.
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that 14:28 and 16:7, which speak of Jesus meeting his disciples in Galilee, are references not to resurrection appearances, but rather to a Galilean Parousia (see previous critique on Marxsen’s exegesis in chapter one (pp. 20–22). But this evidence has convinced very few interpreters. The prominence of Galilee in Mark’s narrative is best explained by the fact that a large portion of Jesus’ ministry actually took place in Galilee and that Mark’s tradition held it as a site for Jesus’ resurrection appearances. It has also been noted that by locating Jesus’ ministry in Galilee, Mark makes Gentile interaction with Jesus possible.96 Therefore, the prominence of Galilee in Mark’s narrative is not convincing evidence for its acceptance as the location of Mark’s composition. The high number of Aramaisms in Mark’s gospel has been cited as evidence that Mark was written somewhere in Palestine (possibly Galilee).97 But the inclusion of these Aramaisms is easy to explain apart from a Palestinian provenance. We must remember that the traditions at Mark’s disposal ultimately have Aramaic origins, and that they still bear evidence of this origin is not surprising.98 The presence of a large Jewish colony in Rome could also provide an explanation.99 Many of the Jews in Rome were from Palestine and Aramaic inuence on their use of Greek would be expected. The use of Latinisms in Galilee is much more difcult to explain than Aramaisms in Rome. The most recent attempt to argue for a Galilean provenance of Mark is that of Hendrika Roskam.100 Roskam takes Mark 13 as her starting point and understands that it was written on two levels (which we also conclude above): the rst level is that of Jesus teaching his disciples and second is that of Mark teaching his own community. She argues that Mark’s reference to “false prophets” and “false christs” only makes sense in a Palestinian context. This conclusion is based on the assumption that “false christs” must be a reference to royal pretenders who aspire to be king of Israel. According to Roskam, any reference to these types of Jewish messianic claimants would only make sense in a Palestinian context. If Roskam’s assumption can be granted, her conclusion is a logical one. But limiting the identity of these “false christs” to individuals who aspire to liberate and rule Israel is misguided. “False christs” can also make sense in a non-Palestinian context. The belief that deceivers, false teachers, and antichrists would come to mislead the elect seems to be a commonly held belief in the early church (2 Thess 2:1–12; 1 John 2:18–27). It is possible that Mark’s reference to “false christs” nds its background in 96 See G. Stemberger, “Galilee – Land of Salvation,” in The Gospel and the Land: Early Christianity and Jewish Territorial Doctrine (ed. W. D. Davies; Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974), 435–36; Marcus, Mark; Black, Mark, 236–37, 249. 97 For works on the inuence of Aramaic on Mark, see Elliott Maloney, Semitic Interference in Marcan Syntax (SBLDS 51; Missoula: Scholars Press, 1981); Casey, Sources. 98 See van Iersel, Mark, 35. 99 See van Iersel, Mark, 35. 100 Roskam, Purpose, 94–114.
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this common tradition. “False christs” could be a reference to any type of leader or teacher who seeks to mislead Mark’s community. As we will argue later, the claims to the position of “Christ” were not made by Jews alone but could be found in the Greco-Roman world as well. Roskam’s argument also fails to make sense in light of how she dates Mark’s gospel. She concludes, as we have above, that Mark was written shortly after the destruction of the Jerusalem temple. But if this were actually the case, it seems unlikely that Mark’s Galilean community would have to worry about false messianic claimants. Immediately after Rome’s destruction of Jerusalem, there were few people with aspirations to bring about independence for Israel, and perhaps even fewer who would consider following them. If Mark is written after the destruction of Jerusalem as we (and Roskam) conclude, identifying the “false christs” of Mark 13:19 with Jewish messianic claimants is implausible. Roskam also responds to the common argument that Mark’s many errors in Palestinian geography indicate that he is unfamiliar with the region. But Roskam turns this argument on its head and uses it as evidence for a Galilean provenance. Roskam notes that Mark is clearly ignorant of the regions of Judea, Perea, the Decapolis, and Syria, but he is actually quite accurate in his Galilean geography. Her explanation for this reality is that Mark was in fact written by a Galilean who knew this region well but was unfamiliar with the geography of the surrounding regions. This argument, however, has a number of problems. First, while we can conclude that a gospel’s inaccuracy of a region’s geography betrays an author’s lack of familiarity with a region, the argument cannot work in the reverse (as Roskam suggests). Reversing the argument is prevented by our understanding of gospel traditions and gospel composition. If a gospel is accurate on its understanding of a region, we do not know whether to attribute that accuracy to the evangelist or to the received tradition. What Roskam perceives as Mark’s familiarity with Galilee may actually reect Mark’s sources’ familiarity with Galilee. But if a gospel is inaccurate regarding geography, the survival of the inaccuracy, whether it came in the received tradition or the author himself, betrays the author’s lack of familiarity with the region. The second problem with Roskam’s argument is the implausibility that someone living in Galilee would be completely ignorant of the basic geography of the adjacent regions. Interpreters have often noted that the route Jesus took in Mark 7:31 seems geographically awkward. Mark claims that Jesus returned from the region of Tyre, through Sidon and the Decapolis, to the Sea of Galilee. Jesus is then rst going north and then east to reach a destination that lies southeast of his starting point. Many interpreters have noted this awkward route as evidence that Mark was unfamiliar with the geography of
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Palestine and Galilee.101 Roskam claims that this geographical error in Mark does not reect the author’s unfamiliarity with Galilee, but rather his unfamiliarity with Sidon’s location. Yet it seems difcult to believe that a person living in Galilee, who is educated enough to produce a gospel such as Mark, would be unfamiliar with the geographical relationship between Tyre and Sidon. These were major cities, which someone familiar with the Hebrew Scriptures (as we may presume Mark was) would know quite well. Confusion over such geographical details makes more sense if the gospel had been written in Rome rather than in Galilee. Roskam also notes a city Mark mentioned that is not attested to in any other source: Dalmanutha (Mark 8:10). That Mark gives no further explanation or qualication concerning this otherwise unknown city’s identity convinces Roskam that Mark’s readers must be familiar with the city and likely live near it; i.e., somewhere in Galilee. But Roskam’s conclusion is hardly a necessary one. We must rst consider the possibility that Mark has found this city’s name in the traditions available to him. Roskam attempts to subvert this argument by claiming that verse 8:10 includes evidence for Markan redaction, but indications of Markan editing do not prove that Mark was the original source for the entire verse. Matters are even more complicated in that we cannot be certain of Mark’s accuracy concerning this city. Nestle suggests that the name Dalmanutha results from a Markan misunderstanding of an Aramaic phrase di le menatah or “which belongs to the territory of” and, therefore, is not a real city at all.102 With no knowledge of this city outside of Mark, we have no way of verifying the city’s existence or its actual location. Therefore, making any conclusion regarding Mark’s provenance based on the name of this city is suspect.103 Now we will look at internal evidence that speaks against a Galilean provenance for Mark. First, and perhaps the most convincing, is Mark’s explanation of Jewish customs. In Mark 7:3–4, Mark offers an explanation of the Jewish purity laws involved in eating a meal. This explanation is strong evidence that Mark’s intended audience was predominantly Gentile and would be unfamiliar with such Jewish practices. Such an audience seems unlikely in the Jewish dominated Galilee. While it is true that there was a signicant Gentile presence in Galilee, it was certainly the minority. In addition, any Galilean 101 For examples, see C. E. B. Craneld, The Gospel According to St. Mark, (CGTC; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1959), 250; D. E. Nineham, The Gospel of St. Mark (New York: Seabury, 1968), 40, 203; Lührmann, Markusevangelium, 132; et al. 102 E. Nestle, “Dalmanutha” in Dictionary of Christ and the Gospels (ed. J. Hastings; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1906), 1:406–7. 103 For interpreters who conclude that Dalmanutha is pre-Markan see Pesch, Markusevangelium, 1:405–6; J. Schmid, Das Evangelium nach Markus (RNT 2; Regensburg: Pustet, 1958), 210; Gnilka, Markus, 1:305; K. Kertelge, Die Wunder Jesu im Markusevangelium: Eine redaktionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung (SANT 23; Munich: Kösel, 1970), 140; et al.
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Christian community would almost certainly consist primarily of Jews making it unlikely that an author would include such a detailed explanation of Jewish customs. It is also quite likely that the Gentile Christians of Galilee would be familiar with the customs of their Jewish neighbors, again negating the need for such a detailed explanation. Mark’s explanation of Jewish customs makes much more sense vis-à-vis a Roman provenance, rather than a Galilean one. As we noted above, there seems to be an undercurrent of persecution in Mark’s gospel. One problem for a Galilean provenance for Mark is its inability to account for this undercurrent. There is no historical record of Galilean Christians experiencing persecution during the time when Mark was written (65–75 C.E.). Roskam claims that such persecution did take place in Galilee, but she is unable to offer any historical evidence to support this claim directly.104 The absence of evidence for persecuted Christians in Galilee speaks against this region as the location of Mark’s composition. Here we have demonstrated that much of the evidence offered to argue for a Galilean provenance for Mark is unconvincing. At the same time, we have also offered evidence that speaks directly against Galilee as a location for Mark’s composition. We can conclude, therefore, that a Galilean provenance for the second gospel is unlikely. 2.3.4 Syria While a Galilean provenance for Mark has convinced few interpreters, a Syrian provenance has become quite popular. As with the case for a Galilean provenance, the case for a Syrian provenance has no external evidence; therefore, we must move directly to the internal evidence. Mark 13 is often a starting point for those arguing for a Syrian provenance.105 In Mark 13, many interpreters see a clear depiction of the events of the Jewish Revolt and conclude that Mark was more than likely written in temporal and geographical proximity to this event. But in our previous discussion on Mark 13, we argued that it actually makes very little direct reference to the events of the Jewish Revolt. We have argued that verses 5–13 describe both the past and present experiences of the Markan community, while verses 14–27 describe a post 70 reality that the community has not yet experienced. If verses 14–27 are understood as the description of some future event, no allusions to the Jewish Revolt are necessary (e.g., there is no need to understand “the abomination of desolation,” as the temple’s destruction/corruption or the “false prophets and false christs” as Jewish messianic claimants). We are then left only to look at verses 5–13, verses describing the community’s past and present experience. In doing so, we nd only one possible reference to the Jewish Revolt; “and 104
Roskam, Purpose, 115–42; see also the critique of Roskam in chapter one pages 33–35. 105 Marcus, “Jewish War,” 446–48.
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when you hear of wars and rumors of wars do not be alarmed; for nation will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom” (vv.7–8). That the Jewish Revolt is one of the wars to which this passage refers is quite likely, yet is not necessarily the only one intended.106 Such a general comment does not demand geographical proximity between the location of Mark’s composition and that of the Jewish Revolt. Therefore, nothing in Mark 13 demands a provenance for Mark that is in close proximity to Palestine. Apart from the evidence of Mark 13, Gerd Theissen has made three arguments in favor of a Syrian provenance.107 The rst argument concerns the socio-ecological milieu reected in Mark’s gospel. Theissen notes Mark’s use of .00 or “sea” to describe what is more accurately called the Galilean Lake.108 He argues that such a small and insignicant body of water would hardly be called a sea in a cosmopolitan city like Rome. Such usage would be more common in a rural location; one in closer proximity to Galilee. He also notes that Mark’s use of a genitive construction (.00 / 7..8) to identify a specic body of water (or a region) is uncommon in both Greek and Latin which usually use an adjective to accomplish this purpose (9 .00). Such a genitive construction, however, is common in both Hebrew and Aramaic, (yam ha kinnereth). Theissen concludes, therefore, that Mark’s use of the phrase .00 / 7..8 betrays the inuence of an Aramaic milieu. In addition to the phrase .00 / 7..8, Theissen points to Mark’s use of “neighborhood expressions,” or rather an interest in rural towns and villages as opposed to cities.109 Mark’s parables are also dominated by imagery from the agrarian world. For Theissen, these factors point to a rural milieu for Mark rather than a cosmopolitan one. Bas van Iersel, however, has demonstrated that Theissen’s argument is not quite as convincing as it might rst appear.110 In response to Theissen’s conclusion regarding .00 / 7..8, van Iersel notes Theissen’s failure to consider the evidence of the Septuagint, a text not only familiar to Mark but one that inuenced him. In the Septuagint, .00 is commonly used to refer to bodies of water that are smaller than an actual sea. The Septuagint also uses genitive constructions to specify the identity of a particular body of water or region, e.g., .00 :* ( 2 Chron 2:16 and 2 Esd 3:7 in reference to the Mediterranean Sea) and .00 ; (Num 34:11, Josh 12:3; 13:27 in reference to the lake of Gennesaret!).111 In light of this evidence, Theissen’s conclusion that the presence of .00 / 7..8in 106
See n. 68. Theissen, Context, 236–45. 108 Theissen, Context, 237–39. 109 Theissen, Context, 238. 110 van Iersel, Mark, 37–38. 111 For more examples see van Iersel, Mark, 37–38. 107
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Mark betrays a rural Aramaic milieu is unnecessary. This unique phrase may simply betray the inuence of the Septuagint on Mark. In response to Theissen’s claim of Mark’s rural setting (towns/villages vs. cities; agrarian imagery), van Iersel notes the strong possibility that these features are part of the traditions that Mark received and that they reect the local color of the origins of these traditions.112 It should not be surprising to nd abundant references to agrarian and rural life in these stories, if in fact the stories themselves occurred in such settings. Theissen is wrong to assume that an urban author cannot tell stories in which the primary setting is one outside the city. Theissen’s argument for a rural and Aramaic milieu for Mark is not persuasive. Theissen’s second argument is based on the various types or strands of tradition that he detects in Mark.113 He notes both pre-Pauline (the use of 5. and the last supper) and Pauline traditions (the list of vices in 7:21 that is similar to those found throughout the Pauline corpus). He suggests that the presence of both of these strands of tradition indicates a Syrian location – a place where Paul likely received these traditions and where prePauline traditions would certainly be present. Theissen also nds traditions in Mark that originated in Judea and Jerusalem (the eschatological discourse and the passion narrative). He notes that an overlap in Syrian traditions (those that are Pauline and pre-Pauline) and Judean traditions are more likely to occur in Syria than in Rome. The presence of what Theissen calls “popular tales” (traditions that nd their origin not from Christian communities but from the towns and villages in which Jesus ministered) were much more likely to be picked up in the local areas in which they circulated, namely in Syria rather than in Rome. Lastly, Theissen points to traditions that he believes come from actual disciples themselves, including the call of the disciples (1:16–20), the sending out of the twelve (6:7–13), and the conversation with the rich man (10:17–31). These traditions suggest to Theissen that Mark is familiar with “itinerant charismatics” who would propagate such stories. He claims that these types of gures were more likely to be found in Palestine and Syria than in Rome. But as van Iersel rightly points out, Theissen’s argument is predicated on two very uncertain assumptions: one, that Mark received these traditions rst hand from the sources mentioned above and not through a mediating agent; and two, that he wrote them into his gospel as soon as he received them, and not at a later time in another place.114 But Theissen offers no evidence to support either of these assumptions. Given that these traditions had thirty to forty years to circulate, it is quite possible that Mark received them second, third, or fourth hand and was not familiar with their source of origin. Even if Mark did receive them rst hand, there is nothing that indicates he did not 112
van Iersel, Mark, 37–38. Theissen, Context, 239–42. 114 van Iersel, Mark, 38–39. 113
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write them down at a later date. Theissen’s second argument for a Syrian provenance for Mark, therefore, is also unconvincing. Theissen’s third argument concerns the so-called Markan geographical errors we discussed above.115 It is Theissen’s contention that the geographical errors in Mark are actually not errors at all but are in fact intentionally made to advance a Markan agenda. He suggests that Jesus’ circular path from Tyre, to Sidon, through the Decapolis and then on to the Sea of Galilee allows Mark to locate Jesus in Syria and other Gentile regions for an extended period of time. Mark is then placing the ministry of Jesus in the region in which Mark’s community is located, namely Syria. This interpretation, however, is not convincing. If this is the case, why does Mark not provide any more detail of this tour through these Gentile regions? Why is it only mentioned in passing? As noted by Guelich, Mark specically states that Jesus did not want his journey into Tyre (a predominantly Gentile city) to be public.116 If Mark wanted to highlight Jesus’ ministry in the regions of Syria why did he not do so more openly? The most natural reading of the text is that it serves as a simple explanation (though one that is perhaps geographically awed) of Jesus’ return from a Gentile tour and not the continuation of one. Regardless of the validity of Theissen’s interpretation, it remains a weak argument for a Syrian provenance for Mark. Theissen’s interpretation of the evidence is largely inuenced by his belief that Syria is the place of Mark’s composition. He then reads the evidence in a way that supports that location. Therefore, this argument based on Mark’s geography is not actually a positive argument at all, but rather it is an explanation of evidence that proves to be difcult for Theissen’s suggested provenance for Mark. Theissen simply offers an alternative way to look at the evidence, but there is nothing inherent in his argument that proves a Syrian provenance for Mark. After examining the arguments in favor of a Syrian provenance for Mark, we nd that they are less than compelling. We have demonstrated that there is nothing in Mark 13 that demands a geographical proximity between Mark and Syria. If the majority of Mark 13 is understood as the description/prediction of future events as we have argued earlier, it could have been written anywhere. We have also shown that the socio-ecological world reected in the Markan narrative is not necessarily the socio-ecological world of the region in which Mark composed his gospel. Though many of the traditions in Mark might nd their origins in Syrian Christianity or in Palestine, there is no reason to conclude that the evangelist received these traditions (let alone wrote them down) while he was in these regions. Mark’s geographical errors, while not necessarily evidence that the evangelist was unfamiliar with Palestinian geography, cannot be taken as conclusive evidence that Mark was written in 115 116
Theissen, Context, 242–45. Guelich, Mark, 393.
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Syria. In light of this evidence, it is impossible to claim condently a Syrian provenance for Mark. 2.3.4 Conclusions concerning Mark’s Provenance In this section, we have tried to demonstrate that there is considerable evidence, both internal and external, that points to a Roman provenance for Mark. We have also demonstrated that the evidence in favor of alternative locations (Galilee and Syria) for Mark’s composition is unconvincing, and it is not able to overturn the case for a Roman provenance. Therefore, we conclude that Rome is the most likely place of Mark’s composition, and our discussion of Mark’s purpose will continue under this contention.
Chapter 3
Analysis of Mark’s Major Features 3.1 Introduction We now turn our attention to a number of Mark’s major features: Mark’s incipit, Christology, presentation of discipleship, and eschatology. Our objective is two-fold. First, we hope to characterize and understand accurately these Markan features in order to provide a theory for Mark’s purpose that can account for them. Second, our examination will provide us with information that will help us characterize the gospel’s Sitz im Leben. A mirror reading of Mark’s major features will allow us to detect elements of the gospel’s setting. These elements will later be compared to a reconstruction of Mark’s historical situation, a reconstruction based on Mark’s provenance and date of composition.
3.2 Markan Incipit Many interpreters have debated the syntactical parameters of Mark 1:1 and its function in Mark’s gospel. Most understand Mark’s opening verse as an independent syntactical unit and see it functioning as title or incipit that is programmatic for Mark’s entire gospel.1 Some interpreters link Mark 1:1 syntactically with vs. 2–3 or even possibly vs. 4. Among those who see Mark 1:1–3 (or even 4) as a single syntactical unit, some view the entire unit as programmatic for the whole gospel, while others simply see it as the opening statement of Mark’s prologue.2 1 M. Eugene Boring, “Mark 1:1–15 and the Beginning of the Gospel” Semeia 52 (1990): 51; idem, Mark: A Commentary (Louisville: WJK Press, 2006), 30–32; France, Mark, 50–53; John Donahue and Daniel Harrington, The Gospel of Mark (SP 2; Collegeville: Minnesota, 2002), 59–60; Myers, Binding the Strong Man, 122; et al. 2 For those who see Mark 1:1–3(4) as programmatic for the entire gospel, see Marxsen, Evangelist, 138; Martin, Evangelist and Theologian, 28; Pesch, Markusevangelium, 1:75; Mary Ann Tolbert, Sowing the Gospel: Mark’s Words in Literary-Historical Perspective (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989), 108–113. For those who see Mark 1:1–3(4) as the opening statement of Mark’s prologue alone, see G. Arnold, “Mk 1.1 und Eröffnungswendungen in
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Joel Marcus takes a mediating position, claiming that Mark’s opening line functions as both an introduction to Mark’s prologue and as a title to the whole gospel.3 He cites a number of biblical and early Jewish works whose opening sentences function in the same way (e.g., Prov 1:1–6; Eccl 1:1–2; Cant 1:1–2; Enoch 1:1).4 Along similar lines, Rikki Watts notes that the difference between these two positions is minimal and, regardless of one’s conclusion about the function of Mark’s opening sentence, it remains signicant for understanding the evangelist’s intentions.5 If Mark 1:1 is a title, then it clearly serves as a programmatic statement for Mark as a whole.6 If it is the beginning of Mark’s prologue and the prologue itself is a programmatic statement regarding the gospel’s intentions and purpose, then the opening line of the prologue is at least an indirect indicator of these goals and intentions as well. Regardless of where one sets the syntactical parameters for Mark’s opening verse or what specic function one attributes to it, the opening words in Mark’s gospel are signicant indicators of the gospel’s overall purpose. While many interpreters agree that Mark’s incipit is signicant for understanding the gospel’s purpose, no consensus exists as to how it informs our understanding of that purpose, an issue to which we will soon turn. Before considering the relevance of Mark’s incipit for the gospel’s purpose, we must address some basic exegetical issues in order to understand better its basic meaning. The verse begins with an anartharous 3 (“beginning”) followed by a string of genitives, ' 5.8 :*0' ;0' ' ' (“of the good news of Jesus Christ Son of God”). Quite often, the rst word of a title or incipit is anartharous, so the lack of a denite article with 3 is not surprising.7 It is possible that 3 has a double reference, both to the start of Jesus’ ministry expressed in Mark’s prologue and to the gospel as a whole.8 The word 5.8, which is often translated as “gospel”, griechischen und lateinischen Schriften,” ZNW 68 (1977): 123–27; Guelich, Mark, 6–12; idem, “‘The Beginning of the Gospel’ Mark 1:1–15” BibRes 27 (1982): 5–15, though Guelich seems open to the possibility that the incipit has secondary signicance for the whole gospel as well; Robert Gundry, Apology, 30–36; Hooker, Mark, 33–34; Lane, Mark, 42; Moloney, Mark, 30–32. For a helpful survey of various positions on the syntactical parameters of Mark 1:1 see Boring, “Beginning,” 48–50. 3 Marcus, Mark, 145. 4 Marcus, Mark, 145–46. 5 Rikki Watts, Isaiah’s New Exodus in Mark (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 1997), 56; Guelich, Mark, 12. 6 For discussion on the signicance of both incipits and prologues in ancient literature see D. Earl, “Prologue-form in Ancient Historiography,” in ANRW I:22, 842–56; D. E. Smith, “Narrative Beginnings in Ancient Literature and Theory,” Semeia 52 (1990): 1–9. 7 See Marcus, Mark, 141, who notes the beginnings of Hosea, Proverbs, and Song of Solomon in the LXX and both Matthew and Revelation in the NT. 8 See Marcus, Mark, 145.
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generally refers to good news or glad tidings.9 This “good news” is particularly good news of Jesus Christ. The genitival :*0' ;0' should likely be taken primarily in the objective sense; that is, Jesus Christ is the content of the good news. While it is possible that the subjective sense (that Jesus is the one who announces the good news) is also intended, it is likely secondary and/or complementary to the objective sense. The gospel’s content is Jesus himself, giving more attention to what he does and who he is than to the content of his message. Mark’s use of ;0 or “Christ” in the titular or technical sense (i.e., meaning God’s anointed one or Messiah) elsewhere in his gospel (e.g., Mark 8:29; 12:35; 13:21; 14:61; 15:32), is strong evidence that Mark intended the same meaning in this opening verse. This good news is that of Jesus, who is God’s Messiah. The phrase ' ' or “son of God,” which stands in apposition to Ihsou` ;0',goes a step further in identifying Jesus: Jesus is Christ in terms of his divine sonship. But ' ' is textually uncertain. The phrase is found in most of the signicant early manuscripts including, 33. It is absent in