Mark 16:1-8 — The Ministry of Jesus Begins Anew

August 20, 2012

The ending of Mark has long been a controversial subject among scholars even though the present general consensus is that the long ending (Mark 16:9-20) is not original to the Gospel. I will not rehearse that evidence here except to say that 9-20 is absent from the earliest manuscripts, patristic evidence is scanty and confirms that most manuscripts in the fourth century did not have the long ending (both Eusebius and Jerome note that most manuscripts do not have the long ending), and the style of Mark 16:9-20 is very different from the previous narrative. [This is no threat to faith as the text of the New Testament is more certain and verifiable than any other ancient text.] Despite this, some yet advocate for the originality of 16:9-20. Whatever the case, I will assume—for the purposes of this final blog on the Gospel of Mark—that the Gospel ends at 16:8 for if we reject the authenticity of 16:9-20 we have no other choice than to read Mark 16:1-8 as the end of the Gospel. (I recognize that some believe the original ending has been lost to us, and that may very well be the case.)  If the Gospel of Mark ends at 16:8, it is a rather peculiar ending. But this might be its narrative genius rather than a drawback.

Ever been to a movie where the ending left you hanging and asking “what happened next?” Those endings are often frustrating but purposeful. They invite us into the story as we “live out” the ending in our own imagination. It is possible that Mark ends on a note something like that.

It is plausible that Mark is intentionally open-ended with his final words. He does not end the story or provide some closure but rather reopens the story as if to return to the beginning of the Gospel narrative itself. He leaves us with a dramatic cliffhanger that invites us to begin the story anew. Possibly Mark restarts the ministry of Jesus in the light of his resurrection and the disciples, including Peter, are again called to follow him. It is this mission in which we also as readers are invited, and the real ending of Mark lies with us. In other words, will we follow Jesus back to Galilee and begin anew his ministry of heralding and practicing the kingdom of God? Or, will we refuse to believe and follow?

Mark 16:1-3 stands in narrative contrast with Mark 15:46-47. While Joseph bought linen and hurriedly buried Jesus in a tomb with a large stone sealing it before the Sabbath began on Friday evening, the women after the Sabbath bought spices and came to tomb on Sunday morning to complete the burial (“anoint”) despite the fact that they did not know how they would roll back the stone. The women came in love and to their surprise they found the stone already rolled back from the entrance to the tomb.

Beginning in Mark 16:5, the narrative bridge from the cross to the tomb is now complete. Jesus died in Mark 15:37 and the tomb is found open in Mark 16:4. Mark 16:5-7 is the climatic moment of Mark’s narrative.

Mark 16:5-8 is filled with linguistic and conceptual connections with Mark’s previous story (see the chart at the end of this post). The narrative intertextuality illuminates what Mark is doing in these significant and revolutionary sentences.

The first disclosure is the presence of the “young man.” The only previous appearance of a “young man” in Mark was the one who fled from the scene of Jesus’ arrest in Mark 14:51. But here, instead of fleeing, this “young man” sits “on the right” clothed (wrapped) in a white linen. “Sitting on the right” is a significant phrase in Mark. It is the position to which James and John aspired (Mark 10:37); it is the position of the Messiah next to God (Mark 12:36); and it is the position of the Son of Man in glory (Mark 14:62). Further, this “young man” is dressed in “white,” and that word only occurs elsewhere in Mark when he describes the transfiguration of Jesus into glory (Mark 9:3).

In other words, in contrast with the despair of a “young man” who flees the garden on a previous night, this “young man” sits in glory. This is a triumphant picture; it is an eschatological picture. The glory of the Son of Man radiates from the empty tomb where one of his “disciples” (that is, a “young man”) sits. The world has been remade and renewed. The tomb is empty.

The second disclosure is the word of the “young man.” His language arises out of Mark’s previous narrative. While crowds and authorities had previously “sought” Jesus, now the women seek him. But the one they seek is no mere miracle worker or Messianic pretender. On the contrary, he is the crucified but risen one! Jesus is no longer in the “place” they laid him—he is no longer alone and dead in a tomb. “Place,” in the Gospel of Mark, has always been used for solitary, wilderness and chaotic situations. Now, however, Jesus is no longer in that “place.” He is no longer subject to the powers of the wilderness and chaos; death no longer holds power over him.

“Crucified and risen” is the language of the “Son of Man” though that title is not used in chapter 16. Jesus had predicted that the Son of Man would be killed but also rise from the dead, and the “young man” announces the reality. In effect, he heralds the coming of the Son of Man; he heralds the kingdom of God.

Significantly, the “young man” not only announces the resurrection (and thus the kingdom of God), but also calls the disciples (through the word of the women) to renew the ministry of the kingdom of God. The reference to Galilee is not simply a reference to a geographical location but is symbolic of the beginning of the Gospel of Mark itself. It was in Galilee where Mark’s gospel begins. It is where the disciples were first called and where they ministered with Jesus.

Galilee does not simply represent a geographical region. It evokes a mission; it engages our wills and emotions. It is a metaphor for the ministry of Jesus. As some suggested in my Bible class last Sunday, “going to Galilee” might be like “going to Michigan” in the 19550s. In other words, “to go to Michigan” is not simply about geographical but it is finding a job in Detroit. Another example is “going to Washington.” This does not refer primarily to geography but rather the intent to participate in governing a nation. “Going to Galilee” is something similar. It means to participate in the ministry of Jesus as in the beginning of the Gospel of Mark.

Jesus is returning to Galilee and the disciples are to follow. There they (including the women!) will “see” Jesus. The term “see” (optanomai) is only used three other times in Mark. In each context it is eschatological in nature. The disciples saw Elijah and Moses (Mark 9:4), the powers will “see” the Son of Man coming in the clouds (Mark 13:26), and the Sanhedrin would “see” the coming of the Son of Man (Mark 14:62). Their “seeing” is an eschatological seeing, that is, they will experience the reality of the kingdom of God (inclusive of resurrection appearances).

The total effect of the “young man” (both presence and message) is the eschatological reality of the kingdom of God. The kingdom is present in power. The cross did not destroy the kingdom of God; it bore witness to the kingdom. The resurrection destroyed the powers; it enabled disciples to “see” the coming of the Son of Man. The kingdom has emerged triumphant.

The curious part of the text is the response of the women in Mark 16:8. They are described (including Mark 16:5) as “troubled,” astonished (estatic), afraid and trembling. The narrator piles one term on top of another. Mark’s purpose is dramatic effect—the emotional state of the women ranges from amazement to the shakes (trembling). The dramatic moment vivified the women but also “stopped them in their tracks.” They have encountered eschatological reality; they have experienced a divine encounter of sorts.

The women are afraid (that is, they “fear”) in the wake of this encounter. This has a (momentary?) paralyzing effect. They have faced eschatological Truth and “fear.” This parallels two similar instances earlier in the narrative. The disciples were “afraid” when Jesus stilled the chaotic waters (Mark 4:41) and the people of the Decapolis were “afraid” of Jesus because he cast out a demon (Mark 5:15). When one watches the kingdom of God overcome the powers, fear is a natural response. The women are “afraid” in the wake of Jesus’ victory over death. It is a fear that arises out of awe and wonder, and it can be paralyzing….for a moment.

Mark leaves us here—women paralyzed by awe-struck fear in response to the resurrection of Jesus. It is open-ended. The reader wonders what happened next (and thus several attempted to supply an answer).

But the answer does not lie in the narrative. It lies in the reader. Will we, as we presume the disciples will (and, as we know from other Gospel accounts, did), follow Jesus to Galilee? Will we renew the Galilean ministry of Jesus? Will we “see” Jesus in the power and mission of his ministry as we follow him?

What happens next depends not on the narrator but on the reader. What will we do? It is the question we must all answer as readers of the Gospel of Mark.

Narrative Links in Mark 16:5-8

Previously in Mark

Mark 16

Tomb (5:2, 3; 6:29; 15:46; 16:2, 3) Tomb (16:5, 8)
Sitting on the Right (10:37; 12:36; 14:62) Sitting on the Right (16:5)
Young Man (14:51) Young Man (16:5)
Clothed/Wrapped (14:51) Clothed/Wrapped (16:5)
White (9:3) White (16:5)
Amazed/Frightened/Troubled (9:15; 14:33) Amazed/Frightened/Troubled (16:5,6)
Seeking Jesus (1:37; 3:32; 8:11; 11:18; 12:12; 14:1, 11, 55) Seeking Jesus (16:6)
Crucified (15:20, 24, 25, 27) Crucified (Mark 16:6)
Rise (12:26; 14:28) Rise (Mark 16:6)
“Solitary” Place (1:35, 45; 6:31, 32, 35) and “place” of chaos (13:8; 15:22). Place (Mark 16:6)
Going Before in Galilee (14:28) Going Before in Galilee (16:7)
To “See” Jesus (9:4; 13:26; 14:62) To “See” Jesus (16:7)
Astonished (ekstasis; 5:42) Astonished (16:8)
Fear (phobeo; 4:41; 5:15) Fear (16:8)
Fearing and Trembling (tremo; 5:33) Fearing and Trembling (tromos; 16:8)

Mark 15:39-47 — The Powers Recognize the Reality of the Kingdom of God in Jesus

August 15, 2012

Six hours on the cross are followed by an assortment of events which bridge Mark’s story from  the cross to the empty tomb. The body of Jesus is moved from the cross to a tomb. The Romans permit it, a Sanhedrin member does it, and some female disciples witness it. But is this text simply a narrative bridge or does it also function to say something significant about the reality of the kingdom of God?

The male disciples are absent. Peter, James and John are nowhere to be seen in Mark’s Gospel at this point. They have disappeared from the narrative. The ones who walked with Jesus, ministered with Jesus, and said they would die with him are missing.

But who is present?  A Roman centurion….some women…one of the Temple authorities. This is all counter-intuitive and the great reversal embedded here testifies that the kingdom of God is yet a living reality in the wake of the death of Jesus.

The Roman centurion confesses, “Truly this man was the Son of God!” This confession is, admittedly, perplexing. What does he mean by “Son of God”? How could he confess such a thing at the foot of the cross that bears the body of the “Son of God”?

Seeing the difficulty, some think the centurion is sarcastic. But this misses the narrative link. Just as Mark’s Gospel began with the confession that Jesus is the “Son”–by God (2:11; 9:7) and the demons (3:11; 5:7). It is particularly significant to see that this Roman soldier–a representative of imperial power–confesses Jesus as “Son of God” in concert with other representatives of the “powers,” that is, the demons. In other words, the powers recognize the presence of God in the death of Jesus. His confession, as one sworn to loyalty to the Emperor who is also called “son of God,” acknowledges the divine royalty of Jesus. The soldier’s confession is a piece of the ongoing tension between Caesar and Jesus, and here it functions as a bookend with the demonic confessions in chapter one. The powers recognize the King!

In particular, the Roman soldier saw something in the way Jesus died that evidenced the reality of the kingdom. Mark notes that the soldier was “facing” (standing opposite) Jesus when he breathed his last. He saw the look on Jesus’s face and heard his last cry. There was something about this moment that evoked this confession from an imperial soldier. The reality of the kingdom of God was evident even in the death of Jesus. Perhaps he heard the triumphal last cry and saw the trusting face of Jesus. We don’t know, but the way Jesus died moved this imperial soldier to confess, along with the demons, the reality of the kingdom of God in Jesus.

That reality is also evident in the presence of the women. The narrator painstakingly calls attention to the devotion of these women–the three and “many others.” While the male disciples are missing, the female disciples are not. They “followed and ministered” to Jesus, and they continue to do so. They followed Jesus to his cross and then to his tomb, and even in death they intended to minister to him when they came to the tomb on Sunday morning.

The presence of the women as followers and ministers (they “deaconed” Jesus) might have been read by some Greco-Romans as an embarrassment.  Perhaps it was a sign of Jesus’s weakness that only female disciples were present at his death. Perhaps it simply a narrative technique to evoke mourning for the death of jesus. I think it is more. It is a demonstration of the kingdom of God that women–culturally marginalized and neglected–follow Jesus to the cross and are the first at the tomb. Cross and resurrection are attended to by female disciples rather than the Twelve.

The Sanhedrin was complicit in the imperial action against Jesus. Indeed, they started the ball rolling and led him to Pilate. The “powers”–the forces arrayed against the kingdom of God–are present not only in Rome but in the Sanhedrin (Temple authorities) itself.

However, just as a Roman centurion confessed for the imperial powers the reality of the kingdom of God in Jesus, so now a council member named Joseph from Arimathea confesses, by his actions, that he also sees the reality of the kingdom in Jesus. Joseph represents a reversal. Though the Temple authorities had no more courage to interrogate Jesus in the Temple courts (Mark 12:34), Joseph has the courage to ask for the body of Jesus from the imperial power (Mark 15:43). Joseph, as one who was waiting for the kingdom of God rather than rejecting the stone like others (waiting and rejecting are from the same root, Mark 12:10 and Mark 15:43), requested the body of Jesus from Pilate. This act was a way of “receiving the kingdom” (Mark 10:15; same root as “waiting” and “rejecting”). It was a loving act, much like when the woman anointed Jesus for his burial in Mark 14.

The “powers” executed Jesus, but in the wake of his death “the powers” also recognize his identity. An imperial soldier confesses that Jesus is the Son of God and a member of the Sanhedrin buries Jesus with loving respect and honor. Disciples–women!–witnessed this. The kingdom of God is not dead; its reality is present even in the death and burial of Jesus. And it is about to break the bonds of death itself.


Mark 15:33-38: The Last Three Hours of the Execution of Jesus

August 14, 2012

During the first three hours of his execution, Jesus was beaten and then despoiled by Roman soldiers as they cast lots for his clothes, mocked by Jewish bystanders and the Temple authorities for his apparent inability to destroy the Temple or save himself, and scorned by those crucified with him as a naive pretender to political revolution. The public humiliation was complete.

The last three hours, however, are apocalyptic and triumphal. The distinction between the first three hours (which began at 9:00 AM–the third hour) and the last three hours (which began at 12:00 PM–the sixth hour) is significant. The storyline swings like a hinge from public humiliation to a triumphal death. In this moment the “strong man” (Mark 3:27), whose triumph within the narrative seems so complete at noon, is bound when Jesus breathed his last. The death of Jesus is a judgment against the powers (both imperial and Temple); it is the defeat of the “strong man.”

One way to see this is to note the apocalyptic language that begins and ends this section: darkness covers the land and the curtain of the Temple is rent asunder. This darkness has been variously understood. Many think it pictures divine sorrow as in Amos 8:9-10. However, given the Passover context, it seems more likely that the darkness mimics the darkness that covered Egypt. In that moment, Yahweh was doing battle with the gods of Egypt (and Pharoah). The war would determine which G(g)od reigned. Yahweh was triumphant. The darkness of the cross is an apocalyptic judgment against the powers just as the plague of darkness over Egypt (cf. Isaiah 60:2; Jeremiah 13:16; Joel 2:2, 31; Amos 5:20; Zephaniah 1:15). It is a moment when God creates calamity for the powers (cf. Isaiah 45:7).

This apocalyptic judgment is also pictured in the ripping of the veil in the temple. Most probably, though uncertain, this is the veil which covered the entrance to the Holy Place (rather than the Holy of Holies) as this would have been visible to the public. The mockers had taunted Jesus with his predictions about the destruction of the Temple at the cross and in the moment of his death the Temple is symbolically destroyed. This anticipates the total destruction of the Temple (as predicted in Mark 13:2). The death of Jesus is a triumph; it effects, in principle, the destruction of the Temple. The Temple authorities, as are all powers, are judged by the execution of Jesus.

Between these two apocalyptic judgments, Jesus cries out twice. Mark quotes the first and merely notes the second. The first quotes Psalm 22, the great lament Psalm to which Mark has alluded several times in this crucifixion narrative. The second cry reminds us of the opening verses of Mark’s Gospel as Jesus and John the Baptist are described as “criers.”

The first cy is the most well-known (and well-worn) of the two cries. Many see a crisis within the Trinity at this moment as if the unity of the Triune God is disrupted as the Son becomes “sin” (literally) for the sake of humanity. It is sometimes pictured as if the Father has turned his back on the Son. This Godforsakenness goes to the depths of the Triune relationship and separates the Father from the Son.

I find this unconvincing in several ways. First, there is nothing in the text of Mark that indicates that this is its meaning. Interpreters must draw on some language in Paul make this case, and that language is often misunderstood. Second, the unity of the Trinity is inviolable and nothing in this text implies that that unity was destroyed. Third, exegetically, Mark has interpreted the humiliation of the Son through the lens of Psalm 22–the whole Psalm and not just the first verse.     When Jesus quotes Psalm 22:1 he invokes the whole Psalm and not simply a single verse. He is testifying that he identifies with the Psalmist. While Psalm 22 begins with the cries of lament and rehearses the humiliation of the sufferer, it also ends triumphantly. The Psalmist praises God, entrusts himself to Yahweh, and anticipates deliverance.  Psalm 22 moves from lament to a cry of triumph. Jesus, on the cross, does the same.

What, then, does the quotation of Psalm 22:1 mean?  Did the Father abandon the Son? Did the Son feel abandoned? I think the answer is yes–the Father did abandon the Son and the Son felt it. But it was not a spiritual or relational abandonment. Rather, the Father abandoned the Son to death though he did not abandon him in death. The Father did not save the Son from death; the Son was crucified. But, as we will learn in the Markan narrative, the Father did not abandon the Son in the grave. And the Father, ever present, judged the powers through darkness and ripping the veil of the Temple.

The second cry is a cry of triumph.  This is evidenced in two ways. First,  in the next verse the Temple curtain rips apart. The death of the Son symbolically judges the Temple complex. Second, the narrative link with the beginning of Mark’s Gospel is crucial.  Jesus’ life ends as John the Baptist’s began (Mark 1:3). They shout out the reality of the coming of God. They both declare the kingdom of God and shout in the wilderness the triumphal truth of God’s victory.  Third, another narrative link is the “great voice” (or, loud cry) is exactly the language that describes the conquest of the demons in Mark 1:26 and 5:7. Fourth, it is the “voice” of triumph and delight that Jesus heard at his baptism (1:11) and Transfiguration (9:7). These are the only occurrences of “voice” (phone; Mark 1:3, 11, 26; 5:7; 9:7; 15:34, 37). This “voice” proclaims the identity and reality of the kingdom of God. That kingdom triumphs through the death of Jesus. His death is no failure, no lack of power. On the contrary, it arises out of his obedience to the will of the Father and it is the triumph of his kingdom.

At the center of these rings of judgments and cries is the invocation of Elijah. In what is perhaps another allusion to Psalm 22, one of the bystanders (or soldiers?) offered Jesus a sedative drink. It appears that this is a hostile act intended either to prolong the crucifixion to extend the suffering so that they might see if Elijah shows up to help Jesus.

The allusions to Elijah are further mockings–daring in the light of the apocalyptic darkness. Elijah invokes Messianic images of the coming Kingdom.  Will God finally deliver this suffering one? Will God triumph in this moment? Will the kingdom come to help this suffering one?

The reader knows that their mockery is a mockery. Elijah has already come, and he suffered the same fate that his cousin now suffers. The powers executed both Elijah (John the Baptist) and Jesus. There is no last-minute rescue. The heavenly hosts do not show up. God’s prophets–Elijah and Jesus–die.

Jesus is abandoned to his death but this death is his triumph. His death is the triumph of the kingdom of God. His death judges the powers and binds the “strong man.”

Disciples don’t expect “last-minute” rescues in kingdom ministry. They, too, are often abandoned to death but in that death they are triumphant!  Anyone ever read Revelation?


Mark 15:21-32 – The First Three Hours of the Cross

August 1, 2012

The movement of Jesus from Praetorium to the cross is known as the Via Dolorosa among the pious. But for the Romans, and in Mark’s story, it is something quite different. It is not only the depths of Christ’s sorrow and humiliation, but it is also imperial triumphalism and an imperial assertion of power.

Crucifixion was reserved for rebellious slaves, insurrectionists and crimes against the state. Crucifixion was a symbol of imperial power. The Empire imposed its will and maintained order through crucifixion. Crucifixion was as much a political testament as it was a criminal punishment. The Romans maintained their imperial power, at least in part, through the use of crucifixion as a deterrent against would-be liberators and, in the case of Palestine, would-be Messiahs.

Jesus was crucified with two “robbers” (lestas). While this term can have a broad meaning such as the “robbers” who assaulted the man on the road to Jericho in the parable of the Good Samaritan, in the context of crucifixion this does not refer to two burglars. Jesus used the term in Mark 14:48 when he questioned why the arrest party came in force with “swords and clubs” as against a “robber.” In the context of the passion story the term probably refers to a well-known feature of Palestinian banditry where a local leader basically lead a small group of armed men for his own purposes. They preyed on the rich and prepared the ground for insurrection. When the revolt came in 66 CE, two well-known social bandits came with their “armies” to defend Jerusalem. The two that hung on the right and left of Jesus were probably more like Pancho Villa than they were two jewel thieves.

The procession that led from Pilate to the cross was a display of imperial triumph. It as a different kind of triumphal procession than what Jesus had experienced earlier the week (Mark 11:1-9). This time Jesus is paraded before Jerusalem as a defeated, humiliated and tortured would-be liberator, a “king of the Jews.” This “king” was mocked by a whole battalion of imperial soldiers as a would-be “Caesar” (Mark 15:1-20) as they dressed him in purple, put a wreath crown on this head, hailed him as king and “worshipped” (paid homage) to him. The path to the cross was paved by imperial mockery and power. It was a demonstration of who was actually king–Caesar is Lord!

Jesus, perhaps due to two previous beatings (14:65; 15:15), was apparently unable to carry the crossbeam through the streets of Jerusalem to the place of execution. Simon of Cyrene was forced “to carry his cross.” From Cyrene in modern Libya, North Africa, he was probably a Jewish pilgrim to the Passover who happened to be present as Jesus passed by.

Why does Mark note this incidental detail? It is not incidental to Mark as he makes a significant theological point by including it. It seems clear that Alexander and Rufus were well-known to the community for whom Mark was written. They were disciples whose father carried the cross of Jesus. And there is the theological rub. Mark uses the same language here, “carry his cross” as he used in Mark 8:34. This Simon, rather than the Simon who denied Jesus three times, carried the cross of Jesus. Mark’s narrative book ends its story with the Simon who was the first discipled called (Mark 1:16) and the Simon who actually played the role of a disciple in the passion narrative (Mark 15:21). Discipleship entails cross-bearing.

Mark, without identifying it, follows a theological script. It is one of lament. The one described here shares the fate of the sufferer in Psalm 22. Three times Mark alludes to Psalm 22: (1) they cast lots for his garments (Psalm 22:18 /Mark 15:24); (2) Jesus is mocked by those who witness his humiliation (Psalm 22:7-8 / Mark 15:29-32); and Jesus quotes the opening line of the lament Psalm (Psalm 22:1 / Mark 15:34). Reading Mark 15 through the lens of Psalm 22 locates the mood of this section–it is one of rejection, humiliation, and abandonment. Mark does not describe the physical suffering of Jesus as much as he concentrates on public degradation of Jesus.

After describing how the imperial power has lifted Jesus upon a cross, Mark turns to his emphasis on degradation by paralleling the previous mocking by Rome (Mark 15:15-2o) with the mocking he receives at the hands of his own nation through the social bandits, the bystanders and the temple authorities. Mark uses the same word for “mocking” in 15:20 (Romans) that he uses in 15:31 (temple authorities).

Almost deliciously and yet ominously, Mark utilizes language that reminds readers of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus. The very status that James and John had requested, that is, “to be on the right and left hand” of Jesus (Mark 10:40) is the exactly the position the “robbers” take (Mark 15:28). Disciples not only take up their cross (like Simon did for Jesus) but they go to the cross with Jesus. But instead of disciples dying with him–in Mark’s narrative–mockers die with him. These mockers had pursued a different sort of kingdom than Jesus proclaimed; they used violent means. They mocked a king who refused their agenda even as they died the same death.

Just as Jesus died with those who pursued a kingdom for Israel through violence, so he was also mocked by those who maintained their kingdom for Israel through institutional and “temple” power. It is the voice of the temple authorities (chief priests) who name the language:  ”Christ, King of Israel.” They know his claim but reject it because the empire has defeated him. They had collaborated with that empire in order to maintain their own secure position. Even the bystanders recall the judicial witness against Jesus–he said he would build a temple. The chief priests and the bystanders (who were privy in some way to the court’s judgment and the testimony given) identify why Jesus is executed–it is about temple, messianic pretensions, and the power structure of the present Jewish authority.

Jesus announced salvation but what he now received was condemnation. He was condemned by the empire and he was condemned by his own nation. Rome executed him because he rivaled Caesar. The temple authorities executed him because he threatened the status quo. The “robbers” mocked him because he was a naive prophet who thought the power of Rome could be toppled through non-violence.

The first three hours of the cross are dark in mood though the sun shines in the sky. There is no hope. There is no comfort. There are no friends. All is lost. Nothing remains.

But….what happens next turns the tables…on the Romans, on the principalities and powers….it turns the cosmos right side up.  More next week.


Lipscomb on Giving Caesar His Due (Mark 12:13-17)

May 8, 2012

Yesterday I posted on Mark 12:13-17 where jesus encounters the “Caesar tax” question as part of my regular blogging on my Sunday morning Bible Class.  It was not an agenda piece but rather part of working through the text of Mark as I understand it.

My views, however, are generally similar to those of David Lipscomb. He reads Jesus’s comment as essentially saying, “pay your tax, but you are not children or servants of the earthly governments.” Or, pay your tax, but you (and everything–including what Caesar thinks is his) belong to God. In other words, pay the tax as part of the situation in which you live “in” this world but you are not “of” this world. Give to Caesar what is necessary as part of living under Roman rule but do not think that the world belongs to Caesar or that you thereby belong to Caesar. Rather, you belong to God and only to God is your allegiance owed. Disciples of Jesus owe no allegiance to Caesar (or any national state).

While C. P. Alexander argued that Jesus was subtly saying “don’t pay the tax” because their allegiance is to God rather than to Caesar, Lipscomb believes that Jesus authorizes payment of the tax. However, the rationale is not because it is owed to Caesar as a matter of allegiance but rather that it is submission to God’s ordained arrangement. In other words, we pay taxes because we are kingdom people who live in peace with their neighbors, including governments.

Below is his comment on an article by C. P. Alexander entitled “Christians Duty to Civil Government” in the Gospel Advocate 15 (23 January 1873), 77-81.  Lipscomb’s comments on the article are found on pages 81-82.

Fully agreeing with our brother that Bro. P[inkerton]‘s [GA (November 1872)] conclusion cannot be legitimately drawn from his premises [e.g., two-kingdom theory or dual citizenship, JMH]; and indeed from no passage or example of Scripture; we yet feel under the necessity of dissenting somewhat from some points of our brother.

We understand with Bro. P. that the Savior did teach in the reference to the image on the money the necessity of paying taxes or tribute. We are confirmed in this interpretation from the perfect harmony of the example and other teachings of the Savior and the apostles with this interpretation. We are to pay taxes, Rom. 13, to the civil government under which we live, as a duty we owe to God, a Christian duty–because God commands it, not from a principle of fealty or homage to the civil government. God ordained this much as necessary in order to the peace and quiet of his children.

Submission to the authorities under which we live, is certainly taught us in various passages of Scripture. That submission involves the duty of paying taxes and doing everything required by civil government that is not incompatible with the principles and practices of Jesus Christ. To refuse to pay taxes by evasion or otherwise then, is a refusal to obey God. Justin Martyr affirms in his apology to Trajan the emperor “of all men we pay taxes most faithfully.”

But Bro. P. in my estimation fails to distinguish between submission to a thing and active participation in it. The Bible teaches submission. It does not teach the propriety of active participation. As we regard it, it wholly prohibits it. Indeed in the strict proprieties of language we can hardly be said to submit to that in which we actively and heartily cooperate and participate, into which our sympathies and feelings fully enter. Submission bears the idea of coming under something separate and apart from us. It carries the idea of something upon us that is not agreeable, in harmony with us, that is onerous or burdensom to us. We feel sure too that God has given no license or authority to his subjects in this or any other passage of Scripture to participate in the management of these institutions. No better explanation has ever been given of this saying of the Savior than that offered by Tertullian, in the 2nd century. Give the money that bears Caesar’s image to Caesar–the man which bears God’s image to God. If both money and men be given to Caesar what is left to God? The early Christians all refrained from active participation in civil government. But few of those who protested against Romanism permitted their members to do so until the 15th century. The reformers brought with them this idea from Rome and the Protestant sects adopt it.

Nor do we think Bro. P. on proper consideration, will say the family, originated and perpetuated by God himself, for his own children, bears the same relation to the church that human governments do–which were instituted by man, had their origin among those in rebellion against God, and have been ordained by God in the sense that he ordains instrumentalities to punish those who reject his appointments and seek others of their own liking. But we intended only to dissent from Bro. A’s position on taxation which seems to be rather extreme and which might bring reproach upon the truth.

The great danger is in running to extremes. Like Bro. A. we have no faith in the purity, spirituality and unfaltering zeal of the church, until its members divorce themselves from all attachment to these institutions, free themselves from their spirit, and rely immediately on God’s ability and willingness to confer all good through his own institutions.

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Below is his comment in Civil Government (pp. 65-66) on the episode.

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No clearer evidence could be furnished that it was well understood by the enemies as well as the friends of Christ, that his mission was to destroy the governments of earth than the record, Matt. xxii: 15, Mark xii: 14, Luke xx: 20. Knowing this they sought to commit him against the lawfulness of giving tribute to Caesar and thus find ground for accusation to secure his condemnation.

“Then went the Pharisees and took counsel against him how they might entangle him in his talk, and they sent unto him the lawyers with the Herodians, saying, Master, we know thou art true and teachest the way of God in truth, neither carest thou for any man, for thou regardest not the person of man. Tell us therefore, what thinkest thou? Is it lawful to give tribute to Caesar or not? But Jesus perceived their wickedness, and said, Why tempt ye me, ye hypocrites? Show me the tribute money, and they brought him a penny. And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription? They say unto him, Caesar’s. Then saith he unto them, Render therefore unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s. When they heard these words, they marvelled, and left him and went their way.”

This clearly shows that it was well understood that Christ was to destroy the kingdoms of earth. These lawyers under the guise of friendship sought to entrap him into expressions that would convict him of treason, that they might secure his condemnation. He not only thwarted their purpose, but taught the lesson in an empathic way of the Christian’s duty to human kingdoms. Tertullian, who was probably born within a half century after the death of the apostle John, gives this explanation of this saying of the Savior:

“The image of Caesar which is on the coin is to be given to Caesar, and the image of God which is in man is to be given to God. Therefore thou must indeed give thy money to Caesar, but thyself to God, for what will remain to God if all be given to Caesar?”

No better explanation has ever been given of the Savior’s words. It teaches what the Savior taught: pay your tax, but you are not children or servants of the earthly governments. Give your personal service and your bodily powers to God. Tertullian not only gives this as the meaning of the Savior, but he shows what was the prevailing impression of the teaching of the Savior and the apostles, within the first century after the establishment of the church. These ideas must have come down from the days of the apostles. They could not have originated after the church found favor with the civil power.


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