John Mark Hicks

“The kingdom of God has drawn near” is the basic message of Jesus (Mark 1:14,15). His parables offer a vision that assures us that the kingdom of God is a wondrous and wild reality. The kingdom of God cannot be hidden or silenced; it cannot be hindered or manipulated. The kingdom of God will fill the earth.

The Parable of the Lamp

The literal structure of the parable is clear. No one brings a lamp into a room only to hide its light. We bring light into a room to illuminate it. The surface level of the parable is easy enough but the difficulty comes in the rationale.

The light refers to something that is presently “hid” or “secret,” but intended to come to light or revealed. What is presently hidden? What is to be revealed?  It may refer to the meaning of the parables themselves–hidden to some but known to others (4:34-35). Or, it may refer to the hiddenness of the kingdom of God in the person and ministry of Jesus which is yet to be fully revealed. The light of the kingdom of God is breaking into the world. It is obscured by opposition and by the inability of some to hear, but the light will ultimately shine brightly.

Spiritual discernment sees the presence of the kingdom of God; it heas the message and sees the light, and the kingdom of God illuminates that corner of the world. Eventually, what is now hidden will fill the room; it will fill the cosmos. The kingdom of God will dispel the darkness and light up the world.

The Parable of the Measure

Jesus cautions his disciples to focus their hearing which is a renewed call to spiritual discernment.  This is couched in the language of “measure”–something is measured for distribution. It appears to say something like, the more you listen, the more you will understand. If the disciples pursue the message of the kingdom and embrace it, more will be given to them. The deeper the disciples grow into the life of the kingdom, the more they will receive.  However, those who do not seek the kingdom, who fail to understand the message, and oppose the message of the kingdom, whatever they have will be taken from them. Disciples must lean into the kingdom and bend their ear to hear. Only then will the kingdom of God take root in their lives and bear fruit.

The Parable of the Growing Seed

Jesus returns to the metaphor of sowing the seed of the kingdom. The emphasis here, however, is neither on the act of sowing nor on the hearing of the message. Rather, the emphasis is on the growth of the kingdom.  The sower sows and the harvest comes, but the sower does not know how it happens.

The dynamics of kingdom growth are not quantifiable. The kingdom cannot be manipulated or managed. Rather, the power of growth resides in the seed itself and the power of God’s own creative work. God gives the increase to the kingdom of God. And the harvest will come.

Disciples sow the seed. God grows the crop. The harvest is assured.

The Parable of the Mustard Seed

Sometimes parables are too familiar. We assume an inherited meaning–one handed down to us by tradition. An inherited meaning is not necessarily a bad one but it may not be a full one either. This is the case with the mustard seed.

A traditional reading equates parable with kingdom growth. The kingdom may start small, like a mustard seed, but it will grow to six to ten feet tall. This small seed produces a large plant (about 20,000 black mustard seeds weigh an ounce). Small beginnings, like a discipling ministrybeginning with twelve apostles, will bear fruit in tremendous growth. This is certainlyone aspect of this parable. A small seed produces a large bush. The kingdom of God has small beginnings but it will grow large. But there is more to this parable.

The Misnah, a second century CE document,  forbids planting mustard seeds in Palestinian gardens (though they are cultivated in other places). The reason is that this large shrub takes over wherever it is planted. It grows wild, gets out of control, and attracts unwanted birds who disturb the gardens. (See Crossan, Jesus–A Revolutionary Biography, 64-66). The kingdom of God is not compared to a majestic cedar, but to a wild bush which is difficult to rid from cultivated areas. We might compare it to something like kudzu which takes over wherever it is planted.

So what might be the point here? The kingdom of God cannot be domesticated, controlled or contained. It will grow from something small to something large, but more than that its growth overwhelms whatever else is there. Principalities and powers will not be able to curtail the growth of the kingdom of God. It will grow even where it is not wanted.

Disciples and Others

Mark concludes the parabolic teaching of Jesus with some perspective.  Parables hide as well as reveal. They hide the truth from those who are not ready to hear but they reveal the truth of the kingdom to those who seek it.  Jesus’ parables confront our hearts with the reality of the kingdom of God, but if we are not seeking the kingdom they are nothing other than cute amd curious stories.

However, the disciples at this point in the narrative did not have the capacity to hear well. Jesus called the Twelve to be with him, learn from him, and practice the kingdom of God with him.  They are Jesus’ apprentices and they are learning the “trade;” they are learning to hear so Jesus explains the parables to them though their understanding is meager.  This is part of the story of Mark’s Gospel–the disciples, dull in understanding, grow in their knowledge and experience of the kingdom of God.  And we are learning right along with them.

The kingdom of God begins small but ends huge; it is hidden but then revealed. It overwhelms the world and cannot be contained by its opponnets. Disciples locate themselves within the ministry of the kingdom of God, and we are assured that though opposition rises God will yet reign and the harvest will ultimately be fully realized. Disciples keep on sowing and God keeps on working.

The Gospel of Mark is rightly characterized as an action-oriented telling of the story of Jesus. So, it is important to pay particular attention when the Gospel slows down to focus on the teaching of Jesus as it does in Mark 4.

Mark offers a kind of synopsis of Jesus’s parabolic teaching. The Gospel stresses that Jesus taught in parables and this is significant to the author. The narrator tells us that Jesus taught in “many parables” (4:2, 33)  though only a few are offered.  More importantly, the narrator articulates the rationale for teaching in parables (4:10-12, 34). And it surprises the reader.

The Greek term for parable, like its Hebrew counterpart, has a wide range of meanings. It can refer to a lengthy story or a pity proverb. The basic idea is that one thing is compared to another. Parables are extended or crisp similes.  While the surface point may seem rather obvious, the referent may not be so obvious. A superficial reading of a parable will miss the point as parables intend to subvert the status quo and undermine the privileged positions of the hearers (and this is particularly true of the parables in the Gospel of Luke as illustrated the parables of the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan).

Parables, then, hide as much as they reveal, and this is intentional. Jesus explained the parables to his inner circle, but he did not explain them to the crowds (4:34). Something about parables needed explaining and hearing a parable called for spiritual discernment. Jesus begins and ends the Parable of the Sower with Greek word for “hear” (or listen). Parables are puzzles; they demand careful attention.  Only those whose hearts are attune to the work of God are able to truly “hear.”

So, why does Jesus teach in parables? He uses parables to hide the truth of the kingdom from hearts that oppose God and reveal the kingdom to hearts that seek God. His opponents (3:6, 22) may “hear” but they do not listen (that is, they do not understand). They “see” the simile but they do not “perceive” the mystery of the kingdom of God. Their hard hearts obstruct their reception of the kingdom.

Jesus’s explanation identifies the point of his parables. They reveal the “mystery” (secret) of the kingdom of God. They unveil the kingdom for those who have ears to hear. This is a hermeneutical clue for how to read the parables–they tell a secret about the kingdom. They point us to the mystery of the work of God’s reign in the world, and particularly in the ministry of Jesus. Kingdom parables are revelations of the work of Jesus in relation to the kingdom of God. They are another way in which Jesus heralds his basic message:  “The kingdom of God has drawn near” (Mark 1:15).

His opponents would not hear that. His disciples want to hear it though they struggle to understand. And the crowd….,well, we shall see as we move through the Gospel.

The crowds are present in huge numbers (4:1-2). They are so large and so crowded Jesus that he taught them from a boat in the lake. We might image the hills of the shoreline glistening with people listening to the parables of Jesus, and probably rather confused by the their hiddenness or perhaps self-assured concerning their “obvious” point.

Mark begins with what readers have called the Parable of the Sower.  Jesus apparently thought this was fairly basic as he wondered how his disciples would understand other parables if they could not understand this one (4:13). Insiders (those who are constantly with him)should be able to see the point, especially the Twelve whom he has chosen to herald the same message. Mark’s Gospel, then, starts with a simple parable but one which his closest associates found difficult to understand.

This is rather puzzling to us since we generally find the Parable of the Sower rather straight-forward. It seems obvious–at least after 2000 yeas of Christian reflection. But perhaps this is something we share with the disciples–we see the surface point, but what does it say about the kingdom? Perhaps we need to hesitate a bit ourselves before we are so self-assured of the meaning of the parable, and this is especially true if the parable has been heard superficially for centuries and it is difficult to develop “ears to hear” because of the tradition that obstructs our view.

The parable is about a sower and a harvest (4:3-8).

In Palestine farmers sowed before they plowed (cf. Jubilees 11:11). Consequently, sown seed will fall on all kinds of ground since the ground will be plowed after it is sown. Plowing will reveal limestone rock that lies inches beneath the soil. The crop won’t take root there. Thorns and weeds will grow back in some places more than others. Sowing, however, is generous. The seed is strewn throughout the plot of ground, and the plowing will root the seed in the ground.

The climax of the parable is the harvest. It is a bountiful, unexpected and wondrous harvest. Thirtyfold, sixtyfold and hundredfold yields are beyond the imagination of first century farmers. Yields of five or six were typical in Italy; Nile-irrigated fields in Egypt typically yielded seven. Yields of four or fivefold, howver,  were typical in Palestine; thirtyfold has only been achieved in modern Israel with good weather and improved technology (cf. Robert K. McIver, New Testament Studies [1994] 606-608, as quoted in Allen Black’s commentary on Mark, p. 89). Might we call that “good news”? Might it be “too good to be true”?

Jesus is describing his own ministry. He has come as a herald of the kingdom of God–preaching the good news of the kingdom, healing the sick and calling people to faith and repentance. He is sowing the seeds of the kingdom of God. And there will be an abundant harvest. The kingdom of God will explode in bounty; the kingdom ministry of Jesus will bear fruit.  The parable is an assurance that though Jesus has experienced opposition (hard hearts, thorns and weeds, etc.) the kingdom of God will take root, grow and yield an unexpected harvest.

Is the harvest eschatological (the end times) or is it present? It appears primarily eschatological (as in Mark 4:29) but that does not exclude proleptic inbreakings in the present. Nevertheless, the assurance here is that though opposition grows and the crowds dissipate, the kingdom of God will bear fruit in the end. Consequently, the disciples should not be discouraged. Their sowing will have its effect; it is not in vain.

But the parable is also about hearers.

When Jesus retells the parable for his disciples, he emphasizes the hearers (4:14-20). There is something in that message that his disciples need to understand. Jesus uses the refrain “when they hear” or those “who hear the word.” The emphasis is not on the sowing but the hearing, but why the shift? Since the interpretation of the parable follows Jesus’ explanation of why he speaks in parables, it appears that the emphasis on “hearing” is a further illumination of the rationale and why some do not “hear” the parables nor understand the mystery of the kingdom embedded in them. Jesus acknowledges the growing opposition to his message and he also acknowledges that the “crowds” themselves exhibit superficial rather than rooted faith.

Some do not hear because Satan takes the word from their hearts. Some hear but the seed cannot take root because of the rocky ground. Some hear but the growth is choked by weeds.

Jesus recognizes that Satan actively opposes his kingdom message and steals the word from the hearts of some. Jesus recognizes that some hearers are uncommitted and therefore cannot endure when opposition mounts and persecution arises. Jesus recognizes that some hearers are subtly turned from the kingdom message because their security rests more in their wealth and comforts than in the kingdom of God. Jesus’ popularity, like the crowds, are fleeting. The kingdom of God is not found in mass miracle movements. The bounty of the kingdom lies elsewhere.

Yet the message of the kingdom is powerful; it is good news. It takes root in the hearts of some hearers and bears unimagined fruit.

The sower sows the seed; Jesus heralds the good news of the kingdom of God.  The soil receives the seed; the power of the kingdom explodes into the lives of people and breaks into the world in wondrous ways.

The Parable of the Sower identifies the power and struggle of the ministry of Jesus. Jesus heralds and people listen; Jesus announces the coming of the kingdom and people respond. Sometimes they oppose Jesus; sometimes they receive him with joy until it threatens their status in the community; sometimes they follow Jesus until it gets uncomfortable or threatens their wealth. But sometimes the kingdom changes lives, and the bounty, wonder and joy of the harvest is more than anyone ever dreamed.

The Twelve will sow the seed of the kingdom in the story of Mark. And we sow the same seed. We encounter the same opposition and hearers. We experience the same disappointments and frustrations that Jesus did. Yet, we also claim the same promise; we–by the promise of God–expect a bountiful harvest. We sow the seed and God will give the increase. We may not see it now but the eschatological harvest will come.

This week I am participating in a wonderful conference on preaching the paradigmatic texts of Scripture. The focus of this particular conference is creation.  Walter Brueggemann is the featured speaker and his presentation last night on Psalm 104 was excellent. Other speakers include Ken Durham, John York, David Fleer and Rhonda Lowry. Everyone has done a wonderful job.

I made a presentation entitled “A Confessional Theology of Creation for Heralding the Coming Kingdom of God.”  For those who are interested, click Lipscomb Creation Lecture for a copy.

The six theses are:

1.    God creates the heavens and the earth as a dwelling place in which God comes to rest.

2.   God creates a telic dynamic reality that is good but not perfect.

3.   God creates humanity as a partner in the dynamic processes of created reality.

4.   God creates a material reality designed to mediate a divine-human communion experienced within and through creation.

5.    God creates amidst a continuing chaos under which the creation itself, along with God’s human partners, groans and yearns for liberation, which is the telos of creation.

6.   God creates, even now though not yet fully, a new heaven and new earth through the ministry of Jesus and the out-pouring of the Holy Spirit.

Having chosen his twelve, Jesus resumes his ministry in Galilee, and he finds both popularity and opposition. He is so popular that people crowd him in such a way that Jesus and his disciples are not able to “eat bread,” that is, to eat anything. At the same time opposition intensifies with accusations of demon possession from Jerusalem authorities.

His popularity alarms his family and friends. This concern bookends this pericope in Mark. In Mark 3:20-21 “those who are close to him” (NIV says “his family”)  heard about how the crowds were hindering his own self-care and they concluded that he was “out of his mind” or “he is beside himself” (literally, “he is not himself”). At the end of the pericope in Mark 3:31-35 Jesus’ family (“mother and brothers”) arrive. Perhaps these two groups are the same (as the NIV translation wants us to think) but they may have been two different groups or connected groups. Perhaps the first group alerted the family and the family came to help with the situation. It is difficult to know with any certainity.

However we read it, some believed that Jesus was out of control. His popularity was too much. They thought, we might presume, that they needed to extract Jesus from the situation.  Perhaps Jesus’ family shows up to take him home and end the circus. They attempt an intervention–they came to “master” or “seize” him. But they can’t get to him because of the crowds.

But they misread what Jesus is doing. They fail to see the prophetic mantle Jesus assumed at his baptism to herald the kingdom of God and gather a new community in which God will reign. Jesus has just assembled his twelve and Jesus has just begun discipling them. The crowds are overwhelming but the mission is important. The family does not see the momentous moment in which Jesus is engaged.

This is the context in which we should hear Jesus’ question, “Who are my mother and brothers?” (3:33). Jesus raises questions of priorities and relationships. In answer, Jesus looks at those seated around him–perhaps the twelve, but perhaps including more as “sisters” are included in 3:35–and says, “Here are my mother and sister and brother.” Something has shifted. His baptism and mission have changed how he views life.  We need not think that he here rejects his physical mother and brothers. Instead, he acknowledges that there is something more important than blood lines in the kingdom of God. The community of disciples dedicated to do the will of God is more important; it is his “new” family–mother, brothers and sisters. The kingdom of God establishes new “blood” lines for disciples; it is a new community.

Between these bookends regarding Jesus’ ministry lies another inclusio or bookend.  In both Mark 3:22 and Mark 3:30, Jesus is accused of demon possession. Teachers of the law from Jerusalem make the accusaion. Jesus has attracted crowds from Judea and Jerusalem (Mark 3:8) and this has apparently raised eyebrows among the leaders in Jerusalem. It seems likely that the Sanhedrian (the ruling Jewish Council in Jerusalem) sent an investigative committee to Galilee to confront Jesus.

The accusation is radical, and it needs to be.  Jesus has been exorcizing demons; he has been demonstrating authority over the demons (and he intends to give that same authority to the Twelve). Such authority announces the reign of God in the ministry of Jesus. If the Jerusalem leaders are going to oppose Jesus they must explain this ability, and they have an explanation.

They accuse Jesus of casing out demons by the power of Beelzebul who is the ruler of the demons. [Some texts read Beelzebub, meaning “lord of flith/flies,” but the best texts read “Beelzebul,” meaning “lord of heaven.”].  Beel is a Greek from of Baal, the infamous Cannanite god in the Hebrew Scriptures. Jesus, then, is associated with Baal–the very idolatry that led to the exile of Israel and Judah. In the minds of the Jerusalem investigators, Jesus is praticing Satanic magic.  This lived on within the Jewish community for centuries (and was part of pagan anti-Christian polemics as well). The Babylonian Talmud (Sanhedrin 43a [Baraitha]) states: “Yeshu of Nazareth was hanged on the day of prepartion for the Passover becaue he practiced sorcercy and led the people astray” (as quoted by William Lane in his commentary on Mark, p. 142, note 88). The accusation, then, assumes Jesus is an idolater, sorcerer, and demon-possessed. Perhaps he learned his magic while he was in Egypt, so the pagan responses to Christianity claimed.  It seems likely that this story remains within the Gospel narratives as a response to such polemics.

Jesus responds in two ways.  First, he answers the accusation (3:23-27).  Second, he warns his accusers (3:28-29).

“How can Satan drive out Satan?,” Jesus retorts. Jesus identifies Beelzebul with Satan–humanity’s chief accuser. If Jesus works for the kingdom of Satan, then Satan’s strategy is misguided. Who divides their own kingdom? Who divides their own house? If Jesus is working for Satan, then Satan’s stragety is self-defeating.

However, the accusers are right on one count, Jesus says. The end has come upon Satan, but not for the reasons they think. If they are right, Satan defeats himself and his end has arrived.  But Jesus, while agreeing that his end has come, explains the “how” differently. What is happening is that the kingdom of God is breaking into the kingdom of Satan; the reign of God is defeating the reign of Satan. Jesus has come to bind Satan so that he might despoil Satan’s house. The strong man is going down and the reign of God is taking over. Just as Jesus’ family misread his ministry, so had the Jerusalem leaders.

Jesus’ ire has been raised. He gives the leaders a warning. Jesus prefaces his warning with his own self-affirming “Amen!” This marks his language with solemnity and certainty. In other words, heed this warning: God forgives all sorts of sins and blasphemies against humanity but he does not forgive the eternal sin of blasphemy against the Holy Spirit (that is, against God).

Before assesing the meaning of this warning, several items are notable. First, Jesus identifies his work in exorcism as the work of the Holy Spirit. Jesus speaks and acts against demons by the power of the Holy Spirit. Second, “unforgiveable sin” is not a new idea within Judaism. Blaspheming the name of God was regarded as unforgiveable (cf. Lane p. 145). Jesus essentially equates the identification of his work with the work of Satan as a form of blaspheming the name of God (e.g., blaspheming the Holy Spirit).

Contextually, it seems clear that Jesus specifically identifies blasphemy with the leader’s accusation, that is, when we say that the words and works of Jesus are the words and works of Satan. This is a posture that rejects Jesus. Instead of confessing Jesus as the “Son of God” (as the Father announced and the demons confirmed within the gospel up to this point), the leaders accuse Jesus as a son of Satan. This is blasphemy.

At one level Jesus may be saying, “You leaders believe in unforgiveable sins, don’t you? You think I am doing one now myself!  Let me tell you, if any sin is unforgiveable, it is the one which you have just committed!” In this sense, perhaps Jesus is not actually saying there is an unforgiveable sin as much as he is turning the tables on his accusers.

On the other hand, if Jesus actually does affirm an “unforgiveable sin” here it is one that arises out of firm and settled rejection of Jesus. It is not some inadvertant remark about the Spirit, or one’s unbelief at some point in their life, or a willful sin in their past. Rather, it is a persistent rejection of Jesus as the herald of the kingdom of God.  It is to identify the work of the kingdom of God with the work of Satan. Jesus’ langauge, I think, focuses on the present act of rejection–whoever blasphemes commits an eternal sin. As long as anyone continues in that rejection, their condemnation continues.

Anyone who worries about whether they have committed this sin misses the point. If this is a worry, then it is not the kind of heart Jesus is describing here. The heart that blasphemes the Holy Spirit is the heart that does not worry about whether they have done so our not; they have rejected Jesus.

The ministry of Jesus is the ministry of the kingdom of  God.  Jesus gathes a new community–a new family of “brothers and sisters.” This new community is the reign of God in the world.  That reign, even now, is breaking into Satan’s house to despoil it and defeat it. As the kingdom of God progresses, the kingdom of Satan comes to its end. As disciples of Jesus, we live among brothers and sisters who bear witness by our life, words and acts to the defeat of Satan’s kingdom.

Mark’s Gospel now enters a new phase.  In the first part of Mark, Jesus has gained popularity among the people but opposition has emerged among the religious (Pharisees) and political (Herodians) leaders. His popularity sky-rocketed through his healing ministry among Galilean villages but opposition grew as he crossed traditional boundaries and assumed the role of an authoritative teacher.

Now the Gospel begins a new chapter in the ministry of Jesus with the selection of the Twelve in this pericope (3:13-19) that ends with their missional charge in 6:6b-13. In this section the popularity of Jesus spreads, his identity begins to dawn on the Twelve as they struggle to grasp the significance of Jesus, and Jesus’ parabolic teaching challenges his hearers. At the same time opposition grows.

This section is headed by a Markan summary statement, a typical feature in this Gospel. It not only introduces a new section but expands the popularity of Jesus.  New regions, other than Galilee, are coming to Jesus.  Having heard about his miracle-working (not what he said, but what he did!), people are now coming from not only Judea and Jerusalem, but also from Idumea (a region south of Judea), from the Transjordan (the region west of the Jordan), and from the northern coastal regions of Tyre and Sidon. Jesus is drawing from the whole of Palestine, from the whole of the region once occupied by the kingdoms of David and Solomon. Mark probably hints that Jesus’ influence is comparable to the golden era of Davidic and Solomonic reigns.

And this happens despite Jesus’ attempt to withdraw. Jesus seems to have wanted to avoid the crowds, but they followed him everywhere he went.  The crowds were so pressing–many just wanted to touch him–that Jesus had a boat ready to avoid being crushed. This is a vivid indication of how excited the people where and how potentially unruly they might become. They were desperate people–hopeless in their brokenness. Jesus, therefore, was endangered by both a zealous populous and by an official contempt. But, strikingly, he was not endangered by demons whom most in the ancient world would have feared. His authority over them was absolute. When he silence them, they shut up. When he exorcised them, they obeyed.

Though he attempted to withdraw, Jesus nevertheless healed those who came to him.  The ministry of the kingdom of God continued.  In this context, for the first time since the opening of the Gospel (1:1, 11) Jesus is confessed as “Son of God.”  There seems to be a progression in Mark’s record. Taking 1:1 as the title to the Gospel, the Father is the first to announce Jesus’ sonship.  Now, the demons announce it whereas previously they had used the language of the “Holy One of God” (1:24). The demons knew who he was (1:34).  It will be some time before the disciples learn who Jesus is and make their confession (cf. 8:29). Ultimately, in the Gospel of Mark, even a Roman soldier will confess Jesus as Son of God (Mark 15:39). At this point, however, only the Father and the demons have announced this truth that is part of the good news about Jesus.

Mark gives us a summary of Jesus’ ministry in Galilee as a kind of heading to the new focus in his Gospel. Jesus appoints the Twelve and the focus of the Gospel turns to their relationship with Jesus. Presumably, he chooses them out of the many people who are following Jesus at this point, or he has been carefully selecting some along the way until it reached the number Twelve.  In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus had previously called Peter, Andrew, James, John and Levi to follow him. Now he completes the number.

Twelve, of course, is a significant symbolic number.  If the regions of Jesus’ influence point toward his royal character, his intentional appointment of Twelve signals the appearance of a renewed Israel as the number mirrors the number of the sons of Jacob and the tribes of Israel. The Twelve are a gathered community whom Jesus will train and then send out. They are the new community of Israel.

Jesus, Mark literally says, went up on the mountain to do this.  Given the redemptive-historical associations of the regions coming to Jesus and the number Twelve, the highlighting of the mountain reminds us of Sinai or other mountain experiences of God’s people in the past.  We remember the various mountains within the stories of Israel. God reveals himself there, and it is on a mountain that Jesus calls together his community of Twelve. It is a divine act, a revelatory moment. The significance of “mountain,” “Twelve,” and the regions of Idumea, Transjordan, and Tyre & Sidon underscores the newness (renewal) of the kingdom of God which is breaking into the world through the ministry of Jesus.

The Twelve are named. Of the Twelve, only Peter, James and John are mentioned by name in the rest of Mark’s Gospel. Simon is listed first and his Aramaic nickname (Cephas, or Peter, or Rock) is not explained. It seems as though the readers are somewhat familiar with how Simon got the name Peter and this may reflect Peter’s preaching in Rome which is the supposed basis of as well as provenance of Mark’s Gospel. The “sons of Thunder” are identified (a Greek nickname also based on an Aramaic original); they are James and John. Interestingly, though Andrew was called with Peter, James and John, he is listed fourth and disconnected from Peter (unlike Luke 6 and Acts 1). This probably reflects the close association between Jesus and his three intimate friends (Peter, James and John). We will see that intimate group emerge in the rest of the Gospel.

The names of the Twelve are listed in a different order than found in Matthew and Luke, and Thaddaeus in Mark and Matthew is known as Judas of James in Luke (and Acts 1). Judas of James (his formal name) was probably also known as Thaddaeus.  Simon is identified, literally, as the “Cananaean” which is a transliteration of the Hebrew term meaning “zealous” or “jealous.”  This is probably not a reference to a political party since Zelots as a political party did not arise until the Jewish War which began in 66 C.E. It probably refers to Simon’s zealous piety or his jealousy for the law and Jewish way of life. Judas Isccariot (from the village of Karioth) is noted last with the ominous modifier that remembers him as the one who betrayed Jesus.

Why choose the Twelve? They will travel with him and learn the way of the kingdom from Jesus–he chose them to be “with him.” This will prepare them for mission which is identified in the text.  Jesus will send (the Greek verb from which we derive the noun “apostle”) to (1) herald the coming of the kingdom of God and (2) enact the coming of the kingdom of God through exercising the authority over demons.  The Twelve are not chosen for reasons of status or hierarchy. They are chosen for mission; they are chosen to serve.

The Twelve are the nucleus of the church. They are the original community. Their identity is missional. The church follows in their footsteps.  They followed Jesus into the ministry of the kingdom of God, and we follow them as they followed Jesus. Just as missional was the identity of the founding community of Twelve, so it is the ongoing identity of the church. We are called, just as they were, to herald the coming of the kingdom of God and exercise authority over the principalities and powers of this world.

We should pause to ponder which kingdom we herald and whether we conform to rather than confront the powers of this world. Are we following Jesus–seeking first the kingdom of God, or are we seeking first the American dream?

Don’t you hate a happy ending?

Many find the Epilogue too good to be true. At best, it has the ring of a fairy tale–it might even be pure silliness. It ends like a bad movie. At worst, it underscores the satan’s point–people serve God for profit. Job is rewarded; Job profits.

Some dismiss it as an orthodox attempt to defend the principle of distributive justice–in the end, everyone gets what they deserve. Others value it as an ironic twist by the narrator who offers a back-handed slap at orthodox defenders. It functions as a reductio ad absurdum.

However, these perspectives miss the real point.  The drama of the work was resolved in Job 42:5-6. This is the conclusion of the matter. Job experiences God and his lament has become praise.

Job is comforted before the Epilogue. He finds comfort in Yahweh’s presence, address, and grace. The story is “resolved” in that encounter. The story of Job’s lament ends at 42:6 before his prosperity is restored.  Indeed, the book could have ended at that point.

But it did not. So, what is the point or purpose of the Epilogue?  Let me suggest a few perspectives.

The Epilogue is the narrator’s comment on the previous drama. The narrator makes it clear that the friends were wrong and Job was right. Yahweh makes this clear: “My anger burns against you [Eliphaz] and against your two friends, for you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has” (spoken twice in 42:7-8!). What is “right” uses a verb that mans to be set up, established, fixed, or substantiated (BDB). Job is God’s servant and his prayer is effective for his friends. Job served as a priestly mediator for his friends–a most gracious act on his part.

The narrator/editor gives the readers a retrospective hermeneutical lens for reading the dialogues…just in case there is any doubt. The Epilogue functions, at least in this respect, to underscore the integrity of Job, the rightness of his speech, and the erroneous speech of the friends. The narrator places his stamp of approval on Job with Yahweh’s own words.

The critique of the Epilogue often turns, however, on the fact that Yahweh restored Job’s fortunes. But it is important to note that God does not restore his fortunes in the light of his “repentance” (as many read Job 42:6) but in the light of his priestly act for his friends.  God restored Job’s blessings “when he had prayed for his friends.” The “reward” (if we want to use that language) is not a “reward” for his response to Yahweh’s speeches, but a “reward” (if you will) for how he loved his friends. Job, paradigmatically, assumes the role that Israel had in the world–he served as a priest among his friends just as Israel served as a priest among the nations.

The significance of this point is that this has nothing to do with the satan’s question in the Prologue. That was answered in 42:5-6. Yahweh blesses Job in the context of his love for his friends.

But I think we can say more. It is significant that Job receives a “double” portion. That is an inheritance portion; it is a sign of special favor.  The firstborn receives double (Deuteronomy 21:17). Hannah received a “double” portion because she was loved (1 Samuel 3:5). Elisha received a “double portion” as the successor of Elijah (2 Kings 2:9), and it is eschatological language in Isaiah 61:7. Serving as a priest among his friends, Job received a “double portion” just as Israel as a priest among the nations receives a double portion.

Job’s blessings are a figure of eschatological inheritance. It is an act of divine grace; it is a gift, unearned and undeserved. It is not profit, but gift. The “happy” ending is a blessed ending, a foretaste of eschatological joy.

What did God find in Job? He found a person who did not turn from wisdom–he continued to fear and turn away from evil. Job maintained his integrity.  Though he lamented–often bitterly–he nevertheless trusted.

What did God find in Job? He found what Jesus said the Son of Man will be looking for when he returns to earth. Will the Son of Man faith upon the earth he comes again (Luke 18:8)?

Job is every person and every person is Job. Everyone is involved in the cosmic question–do we serve God for profit? Will we persevere in faith even when the circumstances are tragic? Will Jesus find us living in faith when he returns?

Something climatic happens in Job 42:1-6 when Job responds to Yahweh’s second speech.

Some believe that Job is unmoved.  He has heard God and is not convinced. He maintains his defiant stance since God has not answered his questions. This is a rather recent critical position taken by several in the Academy (cf. Curtis, JBL [1979] 497-511).

Some believe Job is penitent. Job experiences a conversion. He acknowledges his sin–at least the sin of arrogance or the sin of justifying himself and putting God in the wrong–and submits to God. This is a rather traditional position (cf. Newell, WTJ [1984] 298-316).

Others, a minority report, suggest that both of these misread Job.  I accept this minority report and hope to explain a version of it in this post.

Yahweh’s first speech silenced Job (Job 40:4-5). He confessed his finitude (“I am of small account”) and promised silence (“I lay my hand on my mouth”). Yet, Job does not seem content; he does not embrace God in doxology. He simply gives up his complaint (“I will proceed no further” ), but he does not appear satisfied. There is, at least, no indication of that. It is as if Job is saying, “I hear you and I recognize your creative wisdom and power, but….” And the “but” is left unexpressed.

But Yahweh expresses it. Job still wonders about the reign of evil in the world. Has God lost control? Where is the justice of God? Or, has God turned toward evil himself? Yahweh’s second speech addresses these questions. Yahweh says, “I am sovereign over evil and chaos.”

Job’s response to the second speech comes in two parts. First, Job praises Yahweh (42:2-3). Second, Job embraces Yahweh’s presence (42:4-6).

Job praises Yahweh (42:2-3). Job acknowledges that God is Almighty and that his every purpose will be accomplished. Interestingly, “purpose” is the same term Job used in 21:27 when he was talking about the divine “schemes” against him. Job recognizes that he cannot disrupt God’s plans, purposes, or intent, even if he does not like them.

Job responds to Yahweh’s question, “Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?” (cf. 42:3; 38:2). Job doxologically confesses that God’s purposes are “too wonderful” for him. Job uses the same term present in Psalm 139:6,14; it is a term Job himself had previously used in a doxological context in Job 9:10. He confesses God’s wondrous acts as well as his ignorance of their meaning and significance. Job knows he does not understand God. He has confessed this earlier as well (9:11; 12:13; 23:8′ 26:12).

So, what is new? Nothing here is new. It is rather a renewed confession, a remembrance of what Job already knew and confessed.  What is new is what comes next.

Job embraces Yahweh’s presence (42:4-6). Again, Job quotes Yahweh (cf. 42:4; 38:3; and, interestingly, both of these quotations of Yahweh go back to Yahweh’s first speech). In this second response, Job is responding to both speeches. His quotation is an acknowledgement that he cannot answer Yahweh’s questions. Job knows his limitations. But then the climactic confession appears: “I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eyes see you” (42:5).

This is the turning point. Here Job confesses his encounter with Yahweh.  Previously, Job had only heard of Yahweh or had only listened to Yahweh through the various ways in which Yahweh spoke to the patriarchs. Now something is different; Job has experienced something new. Now, Job has “seen” God.

We might take the verb “see” in a literal sense, that is, he saw God in the whirlwind. He saw the theophany.  Thus, Job’s hope was fulfilled. He had hoped to see God in the flesh again (19:26), and he did.  I think that is at least true, but it is more than that.  “See” is also a metaphor for experience. Job has experienced Yahweh.  It is a theophanic encounter with or experience of God.

I have often referred to this as a “sanctuary” experience.  It is what the Psalmist in Psalm 73 experienced. He questioned God until he entered the sanctuary of God (73:16-17). It is what Habakkuk experienced. He questioned God until God appeared to him (expressed in the theophanic hymn of Habakkuk 3). It is the “nevertheless” of Psalm 13:5.  We cry “how long?”, but in our experience of God we “nevertheless” trust in God’s gracious purposes.

What happened in these instances is occasioned by the oppressive nature of the chaos or evil which burdened believers. They expressed that burden in lament. They cried, “how long?” or “why?” or “where are you?” Their questions were legitimate and faithful. This is also true of Job’s laments. But God showed up; he came to these lamenters. And they changed. This did not deligitimze their lament. Rather, it moved their lament to praise. They moved from lament to comfort. This is what happens to Job.

Job changes. Job, according to most English translations, repents. But repent is too strong for this word and leaves a false impression.  This is not the normal Hebrew term for “repentance” in the sense of a sorrow for sin or a turning away from sin.  Rather, this verb (nhm) fundamentally means a change of mind. Job changed his mind, just as God is depicted as changing his mind within the narrative of Scripture (cf.Exodus 32:12; Joel 2:13; Jonah 4:2; 1 Chronicles 21:15). There is nothing inherent in the word that denotes a change from evil to good, a kind of repentance as we normally think of the English term.

Job changed his mind, but from what to what?  I think the intertextual cue is how this Hebrew root is used in Job itself. The friends came to “comfort” Job (2:11); Job hopes that his bed would “comfort” him (7:13); Job calls his friends miserable “comforters” (16:2); Job questions whether his friends can “comfort” him (21:34); Job himself was one who “comforts mourners” (29:25); and in the Epilogue Job is “comforted” by his friends and family (42:11). Everywhere this root is used in Job, it always means “comfort” unless Job 42:6 is the exception.

So, why do translaters call it “repent” here? They believe that Job has somehow sinned in his addresses to God in the dialogue. Job must repent if there is to be resolution.  But if we do not assume that Job has sinned, then we might simply recognize that Job is comforted in this text.

However, Job’s language before he acknowledges his “change of mind” is problematic. The verb “I despise” has no object in Hebrew.  What does Job despise? What does he reject?   Job had previously used the term in how he had not “rejected the cause” of his servants (31:13), and how God had despised the work of his hands (10:3), and how Job had loathed his own life (9:21; cf. also 7:16). But without an object in 42:6 it is difficult to determine what Job despises/rejects except by context.

If we understand that Job has changed his mind, particularly that he has been comforted, perhaps what he now does is “despise” his case (or perhaps reject his lament). He gives up his lawsuit against God (“retract,” NASB). He will not press charges. Or, perhaps it is language that voices humility such as “I melt away” (NEB). I don’t think Job is recanting everything he said (as the NLT translates it) but is rather “letting go” of the lawsuit, “letting go” of lament, or humbling himself before God (“I am little/I melt [before you]”). He is letting go of whatever resentment (psychological) or legal proceedings (forensic) he had against God.He will no longer lament; he will no longer mourn.

Job’s encounter with God comforted him. Giving up his lawsuit or humbling himself before the divine theophany, Job is “comforted over [my] dust and ashes.” Perhaps “dust and ashes” is a metaphor for his mourning (a possible meaning of 30:19) or  “dust and ashes” is a metaphor for the finitude of humanity who returns to dust and ashes in death (cf. Gen. 18:27). Either way, Job is consoled in his mortal humanity or in his mourning. Indeed, we may read Job 42:6 as Job’s reject and change of mind about mourning–he will now leave the place of mourning he has occupied since 2:11 and return to life (cf. Patrick, VT [1976], 369-371).

Living in a chaotic world, Job’s finitude and ignorance generated unanswered questions, nagging doubts, and bewildering situations. His encounter with Yahweh changed him. Yahweh’s theophany spoke about sovereignty, wisdom, and care which generated peace, praise. and comfort. Job was comforted despite unanswered questions because the presence of  Yahweh assured him. Job turned from mourning to comfort. Job’s lament moved to praise.

Perhaps Job 42:6 might be translated something like this: “Therefore, I melt away before you [giving up my lament, ending my mourning], and I am comforted in my dust and ashes [my human frailty and mourning].”

See also “Did Job Repent” by Thomas Kruger.

Why a second speech? One might think that one speech from Yahweh would be enough.

Perhaps it is a literary device.  The two speeches may reflect the two council scenes in the Prologue–a “prologue” (1:1-5) heads the two council scenes and an “epilogue” (42:7ff)  follows the two Yahweh speeches.

That may be true, but it seems like something more is afoot. There appears to be movement from the first to the second speech as there is certainly movement from Job’s first response (40:4-5) to his second response (42:2-6). However we may interpret Job’s second response (repentance? comfort? rejection?), it provides some “resolution;” it is a climatic ending.

The second speech, then, provides the context in which the Yahweh-Job dialogue finds its “resolution.” There is something new, something climatic, about this speech. Consequently, the question is what does this speech offer that was not present in the first speech so that it moves beyond it in some sense.

The first speech surveys a well-ordered creation that exhibits divine wisdom and care (Job 38-39). God is active within the creation setting the boundaries of chaos (seas) and feeding the wild animals. The creation is functional and fruitful.

However, the first speech focuses on two animals, the Behemoth and Leviathan. Of the two, the Leviathan gets the most attention (34 verses of Job 41 vs. only 9 verses for the Behemoth in chapter 40). Unlike the first speech, this discussion is prefaced by a lengthy introduction. This introduction functions as a hermeneutical key for reading the rest of the speech, and the Leviathan section serves as the highlight (it is the most lengthy treatment of any of God’s creatures in all the Yahweh speeches)–the climatic point of the Yahweh speeches.  The speech may be outlined in this fashion.

• God challenges Job (40:7; parallel to 38:3)
• Introduction:  the Wicked (40:8-14)
• Land Animal: the Behemoth (40:15-24)
• Water Animal:  the Leviathan (41:1-34)

Each section grows in length, and each provides a context for the next.  What would Job do with the wicked? What would Job do with the Behemoth? What, then, would Job do with the Leviathan? Job is powerless before them all. But God is not.

First Section (40:8-14)

The topic is no loner simply management of the creation or how God has ordered the cosmos. Now the topic is about justice; it is about the problem of evil.

Will Job put God in the “wrong” (misphat; justice) so that Job might be in the “right” (zadaq; righteousness)? Job had accused God of denying him justice (misphat; Job 27:2) and had claimed his own “rightness” (zadaq; Job 9:20). Yahweh questions whether Job’s rightness and divine justice are incongruent. Can Job discern this mystery? Can Job figure out how God’s justice and Job’s righteousness work in the circumstance of his own experience of chaos and suffering?

In particular, Yahweh is concerned with the question of the prosperity of the wicked. Job has raised this question on several occasions (cf. 21:7-16; 24:1-12; “there is no justice” [misphat] in 19:7).  Yahweh’s challenge is to question Job about what he will do with the wicked. Would Job pour out his wrath on the proud? Would Job trample the wicked where they stand? How would Job handle the wicked? Decked out in his own glory and splendor, can Job solve the problem of justice and equity in the world? If Job has a solution, God wants to hear it.

Yahweh’s response to his rhetorical questions cannot be overestimated (41:14). Yahweh will acknowledge (yada; know) Job if his own “hand” can save him from the wicked. The use of the word “hand” is important as it recalls the prologue and the significant Yahweh confession by Job in 12:9.  The “hand” of Yahweh released the chaotic powers upon Job, both the moral acts by human agents and natural disasters. Job acknowledged that it was the “hand” of Yahweh that did it and reigns in the cosmos.

Whose “hand” can control the wicked? Whose “hand” can best deal with evil in the world? Whose “hand” is sovereign over the chaos in the world? Is it Job’s “hand” or is it Yahweh’s?

Yahweh’s exhibits A & B, the Behemoth and Leviathan, are evidence that only Yahweh’s hand can control evil; only Yahweh is sovereign over the chaos in the world.

Behemoth (40:15-24)

Behemoth (a transliteration of Hebrew word) is the plural of the normal word for “beast, animal.” But the plural here is majestic in character, that is, it the “beast of beasts.” Indeed, it is the “first of the great acts of God” (40:19). It is the beast par excellence–incomparable to other beasts or land animals.

Yet, the description of this beast is very different from Yahweh’s depictions in Job 39. There are no mythic or hyperbolic embellishments of the wild animals in Job 39 but they abound here for both the Behemoth and the Leviathan. Further, Job 39 utilizes the normal names of the animals, but these two natures are not “normal” zoological descriptions. These are no mere description of another animal–if it is, then it does not amount to much more than what chapter thirty-nine did. Something more is going on here, especially regarding Yahweh’s relation to evil (the wicked).

Many identify the Behemoth with the hippopotamus just as they identify the Leviathan with the crocodile. There are some reasons to do this as the descriptions do seem rooted in those two animals to some degree. However, neither description fits a mere naturalistic understanding of these animals. Rather, the descriptions have mythic proportions.

Both the hippopotamus and crocodile appear in Egyptian mythology. There the evil Lord Seth is associated with both in mythic stories as Seth battles Horus. Seth is the god of chaos. In addition, Ugarit Canaanite myths may form something of the background here as well. In those myths Mot, the god of death, battles Baal. Many of the descriptions of the Behemoth correspond with language describing Mot (Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, pp. 131-137) and the Leviathan reflects the mythology of the great battles of creation mythology where the Seas (Leviathan as chaos monster) contest creation. The Behemoth is a land monster and the Leviathan is a sea monster (perhaps even similar to the two beasts in Revelation 13).

The Behemoth is beyond Job’s ability. “Only the Maker,” Yahweh says, “can approach it with the sword.” Unlike other wild animals, only God can do battle with the Behemoth. Yahweh announces the inability of humanity to deal with chaos.

Job cannot crush the Behemoth, so how could he ever hope to crush the wicked? If Yahweh can capture and tame the Behemoth whose ferocity frightens all other creatures, can not Yahweh deal with the evil and chaos in Job’s life?

But did God create the Behemoth, a chaos animal? Did God create chaos? The prophet Isaiah confesses that Yahweh creates both good and evil (disaster; Isaiah 45:7), and Job has already confessed that humans receive both good and evil from Yahweh (Job 1:20). The point is that Yahweh is sovereign over chaos; it does not have an autonomous reign within the world. God reigns over the chaos, manages it, and utilizes it for his own purposes.

Leviathan (41:1-34)

This mythic animal is associated with the water (41:1-2)  and breathes fire (41:19-21). Apparently, it depicts the mythic sea monster that generates chaos and rules over the chaos–the Leviathan is a prince in the world (41:34). Job himself referred to the Leviathan in his opening lament (Job 3:8). In that poem Job hoped that the Leviathan would reverse creation and destroy the day of his birth.

The Leviathan is a princely figure (and some even identify him with the satan). He has no equal in all creation and “is king over all that are proud” (40:33-34). Chaos (and evil) reigns within the creation–nothing under heaven can compete with the Leviathan (41:11). But he does not reign over the creation because Yahweh can rein in the Leviathan. Chaos fills the earth but it is limited, controlled, and managed by Yahweh as everything belongs to Yahweh (41:11).

Job cannot crush the Leviathan, so how could he ever hope to crush the wicked? If Yahweh can tame the Leviathan who crushes the proud, can Yahweh not crush the chaos and evil in Job’s life?

Conclusion

It is important to note that God does not, as yet (but will, cf. Isaiah 27:1), destroy these monsters of chaos. Chaos still exists within creation, but God manages, controls and limits it. Job is powerless before chaos, but Yahweh is not. Yahweh is sovereign over chaos.

The reign of God over the chaotic cosmos is the primary theme of God’s speeches to Job. Whether it is the gracious power of God to create and sustain his universe (as in Job 38-39), or whether it is the power of God to control and tame the chaotic forces in nature like the Leviathan and the Behemoth (as in Job 40-41), the point is the same. Job cannot claim to control or even know about these forces, but God does. God reigns over nature, and while there is chaos, it is not beyond his control. On the contrary, that chaos is at God’s command. It will do his bidding. The Behemoth is one whom no one can capture, but his maker can tame him (Job 40:19,24). The Leviathan is one whom no one can bridle, but he belongs to his maker (Job 41:11,13). No one but God can control the chaotic forces of nature, and we must confess with Job, “I know you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted” (42:2).

Job had no illusions that if God spoke that he somehow would be able to escape the misery of his present life. He expected death–he did not understand why God prolonged his suffering. But he wanted a word from God even if it was a word of condemnation. Job simply wants to know something even if it is not what he wants to hear. He wants to know the charges against him (10:2; 13:23). He wants to understand the seeming moral chaos of the universe where the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer (21:7-26; 24:1-12). If God charges the wicked with evil and judges them, “why must those who know him look in vain for such days?” (24:1). Job challenges God, “Let the Almighty answer me” (31:35). Will God speak? Will he explain?

No doubt to the shock and surprise of all the participants, God does speak. He comes to Job out of the whirlwind  or storm (38:1; 40:6). This is not necessarily an expression of anger as Elijah was taken up to God in such a storm (2 Kings 2:1,11). Here it identifies God’s presence in a theophany, a wind that bears the word of God. God is no longer silent, but does he answer? He speaks, but does he explain? That God speaks is one surprise, and what God  says is yet another.

How does God view Job? Does he regard him as a boisterous, self-righteous sinner who must be crushed by God’s power (like a harsh judge) or does he regard him as an ignorant sufferer whose misery has pushed him to the brink of rivalry with God though he has not crossed the line of cursing God or abandoning God (like a wise sage)? I think he sees Job in the latter perspective. God confronts Job, but in mercy and grace rather than in wrath or anger; I don’t see any indications of anger on God’s part in the speech.. He confronts him with tough questions out of tough love, but Job is also God’s servant and God graciously appears to him. Nevertheless, Job pressed the limits of his knowledge; he spoke “words without knowledge” (38:2). God’s responds through poetic imagination that confronts Job with the reality of creation.

This first speech (38:1-40:2) is a series of questions about God’s role as transcendent creator in contrast to Job’s finitude and ignorance. Job had spoken about things he did not know, so God questions him about his role in the universe. “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?” (38:4). God poses question after question, all reflecting his role as the creator and sovereign Lord of the cosmos. And with question after he question he prods Job to reflect on his own limitations. “Tell me, if you know all this” (38:18). The questions force Job to admit his own ignorance and remember his finite role in the cosmos.

But these questions also point to God’s wisdom and care. They are not simply questions about power. The questions are not arbitrary; they move from God’s creative work when he laid the foundations of the world (38:4-7) and controlled the chaotic waters (38:8-11) to his transcendence over the chaos of the wicked and death (38:12-21), control over the waters (snow, rain, rivers) of the earth (38:22-30, 34-38), and his regulation of the stars and seasons (38:31-33). This is God’s creative wisdom. Yahweh asks, “Who has the wisdom to number the clouds?” (38:37).

The questions then move to the animal kingdom and God’s management of his living creation (perhaps reminding Israel of how God paraded the animals before Adam in the Garden). Indeed, the animals are all wild ones, except the war horse (though this horse behaves differently than domesticated ones). The questions are not just about knowledge but about care. God asks if Job “knows” (e.g., 39:1), but he also asks whether Job can manage this creation and care for it the way God does. Does Job hunt for the lion (38:39), feed the young ravens (38:41), give the wild donkey his home (39:6), use the wild ox in his service (39:9-12), care for the ostrich even though she has no sense (39:12-18), and give the horse his strength (39:19). Again, this is about God’s creative wisdom. God asks, “Does the hawk take flight by your wisdom” (39:26)?

Through his power God manages his creation with wisdom and care. Chaos is no threat to God and God is sovereign over the whole. The creation is good; it operates well. It is ordered. But God’s creation is not the playground of his power but the nursery of his care. The creation is God’s biosphere in which he delights. The world is not out of control, God is managing it quite nicely.

Ecologically, this speech subverts an anthropocentric understanding of nature. God cares and enjoys animals that have a distant relation to humanity. There is no mention of how these animals serve or relate to human beings in the speech. They have lives of their own and are valued by God. Human beings are not the only thing that matters in the creation.

But how do these speeches answer Job’s questions? In one sense they do not. They do not address the particulars of Job’s situation. God does not tell Job about the heavenly council described in the prologue. The speeches do not address the issue of distributive justice and moral balance. God does not explain why the wicked prosper while Job suffers. The speeches do not address Job’s specific questions about suffering and justice. Rather, they address something more fundamental. They address the critical issue that was raised in the prologue and assumed throughout the dialogues: trust in God’s management of the world. Do we believe God is wisely managing his creation? This is what Job doubted though he never cursed God, and this is what gave rise to the questions and accusations of his laments. This is where Job is challenged. Job has does not have the power, wisdom, or knowledge to challenge God’s management of the universe.

When evil surrounds us and chaos fills our life, then we begin to doubt God’s sovereignty (is God really in control?) or we doubt God’s goodness (does God really care?). We wonder whether God knows what he is doing or whether he can do anything at all. This occasions lament. We believe in God, just like Job, but the chaos of our lives creates doubt, despair and disappointment. So, we, like Job, complain, question, and accuse.

Nevertheless, God’s response to Job does address his sense of abandonment. Has God forgotten Job? That God speaks at all answers that question with a resounding, “No!” But we can say more. Earlier Job considered himself “a brother of jackals, and a companion of ostriches” (30:29; cf. Psalm 102:6). God responds by talking about the “wild ass,” the “wild ox,” “mountain goats,” and the ostrich. God provides and cares for them, even as they live in isolated places. God provides food for the lion, gives strength to newborn animals, looses the wild ass for freedom, and the wild ox serves God’s purposes. These are all wild animals; the live in the wilderness, among the seeming chaos. They are not abandoned by God and neither is Job. As Fretheim notes, “If all the wild animals of the wilderness are embraced by God’s care and nurture, then so also is Job embraced in his disconnectedness from friends and family” (God and World in the Old Testament, p. 245).

At the same time, God does challenge Job. There is a sense in which one might think God approaches Job as a disciplinary parent, but perhaps–with Fretheim (p. 240-44)–it is more appropriate to think of God’s address as the epitome of wisdom. God approaches Job as the wise sage that the friends were not. While Job appropriately questioned God in faithful lament, Job’s knowledge and wisdom was much too limited to challenge God’s management of the world or to find fault with God’s creative work (Job 40:2). Job is challenged to think more deeply and to recognize his limits even though there are hints that God does not tell Job anything new (cf. the hymn of Job 26:7-14).

Job’s response is humble submission (40:4-5). Job silences himself and recognizes his limitations. Structurally, however, Yahweh has another speech and Job’s response to it is more profound. Perhaps this first response silences Job but it does not move him to where he ends up in 42:6. Perhaps Job thinks he has made his case and Yahweh has made his–there is nothing more to say. We can probably make too much of that, but it seems appropriate to see movement in Job’s responses however slight it might be. There is, then, something climactic about the second Yahweh speech and Job’s response. It will address something that this first speech does not.

For the moment, however, God’s answer in this first speech is: I am in control, I care and I know what I am doing. The creation is functioning just fine. Can you trust me? If I controlled chaotic waters in creation, can I not manage the chaos of your life? If my care feeds the lions and the ravens, will I not care for you? If I have not abandoned the wild animals in the wilderness, will I abandon you? God’s answer is his transcendence, but it is not a naked transcendence. It is not a sheer assertion of power. Rather, it a loving, caring transcendence which manages the chaos of the world for benevolent purposes. The question now is whether Job will trust God’s management of the creation.

Though Jesus was a popular teacher and healer at the end of Mark 1, opposition to his ministry emerges throughout Mark 2 and culminates in plans to kill him in Mark 3:6. Mark 2:1-3:6 contains five “controversy” stories which highlight this emerging opposition.

Jesus forgives sin (thereby committing blasphemy). Jesus eats with sinners (and thus defiles himself). Jesus feasts rather than fast (contrary to the traditions of the elders). Jesus works on the Sabbath (violating the traditions). Jesus heals on the Sabbath (violating the traditions). In each case Jesus crosses boundaries that mark him as an agent of change. The change, of course, is the inbreaking of the kingdom of God.

The final two stories, both centered on the Sabbath, occur in Mark 2:23-3:6. In the first the disciples harvest a crop and prepare a meal. In the second Jesus heals. Both were regarded, by the traditions of the time, as violations of the Sabbath. They were forms of “work.” Later Rabbinic traditions verify such attitudes. And n the first century, contemporary with Jesus, the Qumran community explicitly denied people the option to heal on the Sabbath or help an animal out of a ditch. One could not even draw water from a cistern on the Sabbath at Qumran or eat anything that was not already “in the camp.”

This practice is called “fencing the law.” While the Torah, for example, does not explicitly say one cannot heal on the sabbath or draw water from a cistern, these regulations are put in place in order to distance a person from breaking the law.  One does not want to get too close to the line for fear of violating the holy command. Thus, traditions accumulate. Jesus and his disciples violated a couple of those traditions by harvesting and healing on the Sabbath.

Jesus responds on both occasions. Because he is the Son of Man–the eschatological figure that brings the reign of God into the world–he is also Lord of the Sabbath, and Jesus identifies what is most important about the Sabbath. His responses employ a general principle–mercy.

In the first instance, Jesus uses an example from the Hebrew Bible to defend the actions of his disciples. He recalls how David and his companions once “entered the house of God” and “ate the bread of Presence, which is not lawful for any but priests to eat.” David did this because he was hungry and needy. Sharing the forbidden bread was an act of mercy.

In the second instance, Jesus asked a simple question, “Is it lawful to do good, or to do harm on the Sabbath, to save life or to kill?” To “do good” is a Hebraic expression for benevolence or mercy, for charitable acts. With this question, Jesus argues that it always lawful to do good, that is, to show mercy….even if it is on the Sabbath.

Jesus grounds this principle of mercy in relation to the Sabbath with a broad hermeneutical principle:  “The Sabbath was made for humanity, and not humanity for the Sabbath.” The Sabbath was a good thing; it was divinely instituted. It served an important and vital function within Israel. However, it was not an end in itself, but a means to an end. The Sabbath served humanity, and it must not be used to obstruct what is good for humanity.

God’s commanded rituals (as, for example, the Sabbath) are intended to serve humanity.  They do not rule humanity nor should they ever be used to subvert God’s goal for humanity. Consequently, mercy will always take precedence. Matthew called attention to this in his version of the story–if people truly understood Hosea 6:6 (“I desire mercy and not sacrifice”), then they would not use the Sabbath (or any rituals) in such an obstructionist manner (Matthew 12:1-8). God’s heart lies with mercy rather than sacrifice.

This explains Jesus’ anger. When he asked the question about whether it was lawful to do good on the Sabbath, the Pharisees were silent. To Jesus it was obvious, but the Pharisees were caught in the dilemma of their own traditions and understanding of the law. Jesus was angered by their insensitivity to the Torah’s mercy. Moreover, he grieved their hardness of heart, that is, their inability to see the world through God’s merciful eyes. They could only see the world through their rules.

The Pharisees also responded with anger. They been to conspire with the Herodians to kill Jesus. Herodians were not an official party or sect like the Pharisees, but a loose-knit alliance that supported the Herodian family’s rule of Galilee.  Herod Antipas ruled Galilee at this time. Herodians opposed messianic figures and revolutionaries as they supported the Roman power that backed Herod. Consequently, opposition to Jesus made strange bedfellows. Devout oppressed Pharisees joined forces with politically empowered Herodians to kill Jesus.

On the one hand, the religious establishment opposed Jesus because he was a threat to their pious practices. On the other hand, the political establishment opposed Jesus because he was a threat to royal stability. Either way, opposition to Jesus has emerged.

The kingdom of God had broken into the world in the ministry of Jesus. The religious establishment opposed it and the political establishment opposed it. Not much has changed. Practicing the kingdom of God is scandalous.