"The beginning of
the gospel of Jesus
Christ, Son of God." This scripture passage from the first
chapter of
Mark is about eu-angelion, or good news. We know more about the
contents of Mark's gospel than most of the characters in his
story.
Like those people who skim books, we know details of the plot and even
the tragic ending. And knowing the ending, we get a bit jaded by the
whole story. We know that Jesus will be proclaimed the Messiah, the Son
of God -- and we turn over the pages hastily to see once again how the
characters come to realize this -- and indeed if they ever do.
The
whole script has become a bit passé. But advent is a time to
relive the
excitement and enthusiasm of the gospel writer. We must hear afresh the
good news of Jesus Christ, Son of God, really anticipating that we will
hear "good news" -- something that the narrative can do for us, rather
than the few facts the story can tell us. This raises an immediate question: What makes up the "beginning of the gospel"? Are we looking at just the prologue that we read during cycle B of the first Sunday of Advent, or is the entire book of Mark a beginning? I owe much of this sermon to Dr. Brian P. Stoffregen; he suggests the latter answer to the puzzle. The gospel story continues far beyond chapter 16, as we continue to proclaim the good news to all nations (13:10).
What is this "good news" about Jesus Christ? The Greek word eu-angelion means literally victory in battle, a message like that carried by the original Greek runner of the marathon. In 9 B.C., the birthday of Caesar Augustus was hailed as eu-angelion (here a plural noun). As a conquering Roman god, his birthday marked the beginning of Good News for the world. For the Greeks and the Romans, euangelion was a plural noun, one good tiding among many. But in our New Testament, the word becomes singular: the good news of God in Jesus Christ, beside which there is no other. In a way foretold by Isaiah (527; 6 11-13), the gospels turn upside down the classical idea that "good news" is a military or a political victory. The "Good News" of Mark tells us about God's final saving act, when peace and release from oppression will be showered on God's people. For Mark, the coming of Jesus marks the beginning of the fulfillment of Isaiah's prophesy.
In his book "Let the Reader Understand: Reader-Response Criticism and the Gospel of Mark" Dr. Robert M. Fowler of Baldwin-Wallace College, Berea, Ohio draws a comparison between a subtle joke and the Gospel of Mark. He argues that both try to do something to the hearer or the reader. Both use covert means to bring an understanding or a belief to the reader. A subtle joke induces belief in order to deceive the hearer momentarily, but then the deception is dropped; understanding dawns, and there is an explosion of laughter. Mark's Gospel also seeks to elicit belief as revelation dawns, but he intends it to have a profound life significance, persisting long after we have finished our initial hurried reading of the story. Whereas the joke seduces us temporarily, the intent of the Gospel is to seduce us permanently.
Dr. Stoffregen suggests the word euangelion would be very useful to game-show contestants, as they jump and wave their arms about in triumph at a correct answer. Taken in its Greco-Roman sense, the word is rather like shouting, "We won!" Euangelion is more than just the sort of background information that floats over us in a nightly news broadcast. It is the record of an event that totally engulfs its hearers. We might paraphrase the opening words of the gospel as: "The beginning of the victory of Jesus, the Messiah, the Son of God," This would certainly colour our reading of the rest of Mark's story, highlighting its ironies, and in particular the many times when the victor appears much more like a victim. One might wonder if Mark deliberately chose the words eu-angelion, "Christ" and "Son of God," knowing that most people of his time would misinterpret the terms, thus giving him a chance to make a striking reinterpretation of them as his narrative developed.
In what way would early readers have interpreted the words "Christ," "Anointed one" and "Messiah?" I think the Jews would have understood the "Christ" as a conquering king, an anointed priest, or a prophet. The Greeks certainly thought in terms of an earthly king, as did the writers of First and Second Samuel. And in the Psalms, we see God giving earthly victory to his "anointed") (2:2; 18:50; 20:6; 132:17). First Isaiah even used it to describe the Persian ruler Cyrus (Is 45:1)
And how would early readers of Mark's gospel have understood the term "Son of God?" This phrase is covered by two words in the original Greek: huiou theou. These words are missing from many ancient manuscripts. Here we see a problem of interpreting scripture today- with so many differing versions in libraries around the world, which one are we to accept as "authentic?" Textual scholars normally prefer shorter to longer versions of any given text. They reason that most first-century copyists added to rather than subtracted from their texts, so that the shorter version is more likely to be "correct." However, the words "Son of God" could also have been omitted by a clerical oversight; we can imagine a monk patiently copying the text in the dim light of a monastic cell. The first six words in Greek all end with the letters "ou," and after a long day with the parchments, it would be all too easy to jump to the last "ou" before all of the phrase had been copied.
Accepting that the phrase "Son of God" was in the original text, what are we to make of it? If I were a Greek, hearing it for the first time, I might think that Mark was referring to mythological "children of gods." For example, Hercules was a son of the god Zeus and the human mother Alcmene. And if I were a Jew, I might think that (as in Psalm 27) a "son of God" was a king. The Greek text does not have a definite article ("the" son of God). The same is true of the reported comment of the centurion; he could be saying: "Truly, this man was a son of God" (Mark 15:39). However, later in the gospel, Mark has the demons recognize Jesus as " the Son of God" (Mark 3:11) and "Son of the Most High God" (5:7). So, the early part of Mark's gospel may be continuing the "joke" by creating a picture in the minds of the audience of someone from their own experience who is called a "Son of God". In Mark's view, this picture is a wrong one, and he educates his audience by changing it as his narrative develops.
Donald Juel, of Luther Northwestern Theological Seminary, St. Paul, Minnesota, has written a book called "A Master of Surprise: Mark Interpreted." He stresses the way that Mark begins his gospel with loaded words such as "good news," meaning military victory, and "Christ" or "Son of God" meaning an anointed, conquering king, or "super-hero." Mark goes on to surprise us throughout his story, radically redefining these terms in the resolution of the "joke," as he presents to us Jesus, the Son of Man -- the one who will be crucified.
We usually interpret the somewhat scrambled prophetic comments (Ex 2320; Mal 31) about the "voice crying in the wilderness" as referring to John the Baptist, the epitome of the desert nomad. However, the only person whom Mark has named prior to verses 2 and 3 is Jesus. John is certainly somewhere out there in the wilderness, or eremos in verse 4, but in fact Mark reports Jesus as being in the wilderness (or desert places) much more often than John (Mark 1:12, 13, 35, 45; 6:31, 32, 35). Moreover, John is never described as "crying out," although Jesus certainly uses this language -- particularly from the cross (Mark 15:34) where he feels he has been forsaken by God -- surely, this was a supreme wilderness moment for him? So, it is probably Jesus who is crying in the wilderness.
Who, then, is the Lord for whom we shintend to speak of God, or of Jesus? Significantly, he never uses the word kyrios, or Lord for Jesus, except as a title of respect, much as we might say "sir" or "master" (Mark 7:28; 11:3). In fact, it is Jesus who calls God "Lord" (Mark 5:19; 13:20). So it seems that when Mark uses the word kyrios, he is really talking about God (Mark 11:9; 12:11, 29, 30, 36). This is in great contrast to the language of those who have added to Mark's gospel. These later scribes clearly use the term "Lord" as a title for Jesus (Mark 16:19, 20). But in verses 2 and 3, Mark seems to be describing Jesus as the apocalyptic preacher who is preparing the way for the coming of God.
Where does John fit into this picture? The narrator has already told us about Jesus Christ, Son of God, and he has misquoted earlier Old Testament prophets, speaking about "My messenger" (angelos or "angel"). Now John steps up to the podium, as the third introducer of Jesus. As I know to my cost from some professional meetings that I have attended, those who make second and third introductions sometimes have better jokes or a clearer delivery than the main speaker. But John realizes it is vital that he does not eclipse the star of the show, and he seems to respect his limitations. John casts himself as a humble prophet, wearing the hairy garments that remind people of Elijah (2 Kings 1:8, Zechariah 13:4), and the prophesy of Malachi 4:5: "Lo, I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the LORD comes."
John makes two proclamations: " Baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins," and (perhaps more importantly) "A stronger one is coming after me" (v. 7). The tone of this second message offers a good model for all of our worship and ministry. John had crowds come from the "whole Judean countryside and all the people from Jerusalem" (v. 5). But no matter how "successful" he seemed to be, or we may think that we are in our teaching and preaching -- our function is always to point to the stronger one.
Lastly, let us look quickly at Mark's understanding of baptism. Mark talks about "baptism in the Holy Spirit," referring to the persecution and suffering that the disciples would endure (Mark 13:9-13). Jesus also speaks of "baptism" in reference to his own suffering and death, indicating that at least James and John will undergo a similar baptism (Mark 10:38-39). This is an interesting contrast with much of our Christian experience, whether we look at the ritual baptism of United Church infants, the fervent immersions of a Baptist assembly, or the ecstatic "baptism in the Holy Spirit" sought by some of our Pentecostal friends. Just as Mark redefines "good news" and Jesus as the Christ, so he redefines our understanding of a life immersed in the Holy Spirit. For Mark, these words point to the cross, an ironic sign of victory for God's anointed, the Son of God.
As
we enter the fantasy world of
Canada's commercial Christmas, it is good to remind ourselves about the
true costs of following the babe in the manger. We need to hear
the
gospel of good news with fresh ears. We have already read the
book,
and we may not have all of the preconceptions of the ancient Greeks and
Hebrews. But we also need to "see the joke." It is clear that our
understandings of "victory," "Jesus as Lord" and "Christian baptism"
need clarifying. The way that is now being prepared may lead
us not to a well-stuffed stocking, but to suffering and death on a
cross. So help us Lord to prepare for
your coming by granting us a true insight into the meaning of
Advent.
AMEN.
RJS.