Craig Blomberg in Craig L. Blomberg

9 years ago

Mark doesn't have as many demonstrable theological distinctives as the other three canonical Gospels for the simple fact that he wrote first and that the others shared several of his emphases. Even John, which is about 80% different from the Synoptics, announces in his purpose statement that what he has included about Jesus is intended to help people believe that he is the Messiah and the Son of God (John 20:31), the very two titles which Mark begins his Gospel with (Mark 1:1). But definitely stressed more in Mark than elsewhere is his famous "Messianic secret" motif: Jesus' silencing people and telling them not to disclose his identity in contexts where you'd think he'd be wanting word to spread. Thus, in 1:25, Jesus silences the impure spirit in a demon-possessed individual who has just acknowledged knowing him to be “the Holy One of God” and then casts him out of the man altogether. In 1:34 Mark generalizes and observes that Jesus consistently did not let demons speak “because they knew who he was” (cf. also 3:12). After healing the leper in 1:43, Jesus “strongly warns” the man to tell no one. On the other hand, after exorcising the man in the region of the Gerasenes, Jesus commands him to return to his own (presumably Gentile) people “and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you” (5:19). Some would include in this list of warnings to silence Jesus’ teaching in 4:10-12 on why he teaches in parables, including his cryptic remarks about preventing those outside his circle from truly understanding. But this is different enough from not talking about Jesus’ messiahship that it really should be treated more or less separately. The list of examples could be significantly multiplied but these are enough illustrations to establish Mark's pattern. The standard evangelical answer remains persuasive: had Jesus received too much publicity, especially in Jewish circles, especially reaching the ears of the religious authorities of the land, his execution could have come prematurely, before his ministry, as God envisioned it, was complete. Only after his resurrection, moreover, would it be sufficiently clear that his mission was not to reestablish God's earthly, militaristic kingdom (at least not in the 1st century) and rid the land of the Romans (Mark 9:9). Recent studies of the ancient Mediterranean world's culture of honor and shame add some interesting supplementary perspectives to this basic response. Jesus’ message and model of highlighting servanthood above authority required a certain modesty on his part with respect to others publicizing his greatness. A certain amount of publicity was necessary to establish his credibility, but too much could have undermined his own ministry. We live in an age of self-promotion. Neither Jesus nor Paul would have fared well among modern advertising companies or in many churches. When Paul was forced into boasting, he chose to glory in his weakness and sufferings (2 Cor. 12). Jesus knew that signs-based faith were often inadequate and didn't trust that people's allegiance to him based solely or primarily on miracles would hold up if difficult times came. Will we do better? I write this 4th of July blogpost from England, where some of our best friends live and where our daughter is a permanent citizen. The longer I live the more I become ambivalent about patriotic holidays in any country. Last year we were in Singapore for their independence day and it made sense for such a small country to celebrate all the progress they have made since they left the British empire in 1966. But Christians are a "third race" (neither Jew nor Gentile) and their citizenship is in heaven (Phil. 3:20). We should have more loyalty to our unknown, suffering North Korean Christian brothers and sisters in the underground church there than to our non-Christian neighbors and family members even if we stand or sit next to them at the same fireworks celebration. Do we?