An old children's rhyme goes:
Stop, look and listen Before you cross the street. Use your eyes, use your ears, Then use your feet.
Great poetry it's not, bu the little rhyme served its purpose for those of us who learned it as children. It also acts as a sort of outline of the lessons we may be expected to take away from the Transfiguration account we find in Mark 9:2-10.
STOP:
Jesus takes time to be alone with his disciples. When is the last time you set aside time to spend with Jesus?
LOOK:
We often say that "seeing is believing." What do you think the disciples thought when they witnessed the Transfiguration? Do you think this event conviced them that Jesus was who he claimed to be?
In fact, if we backpedal through the text, we realize that the converse is true. The Transfiguration of Jesus happens only after the disciples are able to answer the question "Who do you say that I am?"
Because sometimes, believing is seeing. Sometimes we can only see God at work in our lives through the eyes of faith. The glory of Christ is fully revealed to Peter, James, and John precisely because they believe. This event invites us to keep our eyes open for Christ at work in our own lives as people who have declared who we believe him to be.
LISTEN:
The voice of God (like in last week's text) speaks audibly to the audience of this event. Peter James, and John hear "This my son, whom I love. Listen to him."
The proper response to seeing the glory of God revealed in Jesus is to attend upon his teachings. Adoration and worship are excellent pursuits, but the proper response to the gospel is one of obedience.
CROSS:
The cross is not explicitly mentioned in this passage, but it arguably stands behind the whole event. God commands the disciples to "listen" to Jesus in the wake of an event in which Jesus has spoken of his own death for the first time, as well as teaching that whoever would be his disciple must take up crosses of their own. While we are called to attend upon the full teachings of Jesus, this most recent teaching will still have been ringing in the disciple's ears.
On the way down the mountain, the disciples discuss among themselves what is meant by "rising from the dead." Jesus has made reference to his resurrection, which leaves them understandably puzzled. The idea of a man being raised from the dead presents its difficulties.
For us, the difficulty is in the "rising" part. Our post-enlightenment, modern minds have trouble grasping such a radical reversal of the laws of nature as we understand them. It's easy to assume that the disciples had the same difficulty. Perhaps they did.
But their mindset was likely quite different from our own, especially in light of the event thay find themselves experiencing. Peter, James, and John, according to the gospels, were from the fishing villages around the Sea of Galilee. Our current knowledge of the world in Jesus time suggests that this area was the equivalent of our southern Bible Belt in the United States. This was a region in which the Torah was taught and held in special reverence, where faith reigned supreme.
Among the doctrines prevalent in Jesus' day was the notion that certain of God's servants had never tasted death. Enoch, for example, has no recorded death. He is simply said to "walk with God." Likewise, Elijah is carried off in fiery chariots. Moses ascends Mount Nebo and never comes back down. The text says that he died there, and that God himself buried him, but the body is conspicuously absent, and many Jews in the days of Jesus held that Moses had gone directly to live with God.
This notion stood behind the Jewish expectation that Elijah would return before the Messiah. This was not a belief in resurrection or reincarnation. In their world picture, Elijah had never died. Jesus used similar language (at least in the gospel of John) to describe what would happen to those who believed in him. Just before ascending the mountain, he had insisted that some of his disciples would "not taste death before they see the kingdm of God revealed in power."
When they arrived at the mountain top and found Moses and Elijah, the disciples were suitably impressed, but had an instant understanding of what must be going on: Jesus has come to join Moses and Elijah to live forever in the presence of God. Peter even offers to build houses for the three to live in.
After all they had seen and experienced, Peter James and John were probably not really bothered about the idea of Jesus living forever. It wasn't the word "rising" that gave them trouble. It was probably the word "dead."
the empty tomb presented peter, James, and John with fewer questions than the cross. The empty tomb was what was expected. It's what God did for the great heroes of the faith.
The cross, on the other hand, didn't fit with their stalwart belief that this man was the Messiah. If this was God's chosen servant, would he not be spared pain and uncertainty? Would he not be vindicated by a steady, inexorable rise to worldly power?
The message of the cross is the precisely the message that the voice from heaven is calling us to "listen" to.
USE YOUR EYES, USE YOUR EARS,
THEN USE YOUR FEET.
And the message of the cross is not simply what Jesus would do. It was a call for each of us to follow. To place our feet in the footsteps of Jesus. To choose a life of sacrifice and quiet rebellion against the powers of the world over lives of priveledge.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Going to Seed
"This voice was for your benefit, not mine."
These were Jesus' enigmatic words after God spoke in thunder from Heaven in John Chapter 12.
Christians speak often of "hearing God's voice" of "listening to God." What we usually mean by this, though, is a prayerful discernment of what we believe the Spirit may be nudging us to do. Occasionally, we may be given a clear word. Less frequently still, we may actually hear something so clear that we would describe it as audible. In reality, though, we probably wouldn't expect the voice to register on a tape recorder. We understand this speech as being something on the spiritual realm.
Jesus spoke often to God, and presumably received this same sort of guidance. On a handful of occasions in the gospels, though, God spoke aloud in such a way that bystanders could hear. One occasion was at Jesus' baptism.
The gospel writers seem divided on the issue of who God was speaking to in this moment. Look how Mark (1:11) has God addressing Jesus, while Matthew (3:17) has God addressing the bystanders about Jesus.
On another occasion, the testimony is unanimous. At the transfiguration, God spoke almost exactly the same words, but this time the gospels agree that the audience for the remarks are the disciples (or at least Peter, James, and John.) "This is my son. Listen to him."
In John 12, God speaks in a voice that some hear as thunder, and others hear as the voice of an archangel. His pronouncement is that His name has been glorified and will be glorified again. Jesus is clear that this word is for the disciples.
Why this particular pronouncement? Why does God, who remains almost painfully silent at times, choose this moment to make His thunderous proclamation?
This is just one of the riddles that surround this story.
The tale opens with a discreet approach towards Jesus by some "Greeks who were worshiping at the festival. They do not approach Jesus directly, but come to Philip first. Why?
Perhaps they are aware that many devout Jews would refuse to receive them during the festival, for fear of becoming unclean through contact with Gentiles. They wonder if Jesus will receive them or not.
Evidently Philip is confused on the matter himself. He turns to Andrew for advice. Andrew doesn't know what to do either. Together they approach Jesus.
If they expected their rabbi to clear things up, they would be disappointed:
"The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 24I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. 25The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be.
Quite aside from the fact that Jesus has given them no guidance on what answer to give the Greeks, his little speech poses riddle of his own. He is speaking of being glorified at the same time he seems to be speaking of dying.
Given our post-Easter understanding of Jesus, this all makes a certain amount of sense. But given the information the disciples had to work with, it's hard to know how they would have understood Jesus' words. It certainly sounds as if Jesus is saying he's about to die. He seems to suggest that somehow this is a glorious thing.
Even more troubling, though, is his suggestion that his disciples are supposed to follow in his footsteps. Is he asking us to follow him to our death?
None of the disciples could be thrilled about that. In fact, Jesus himself wrestles with his coming fate:
27"Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. 28Father, glorify your name!"
The presence of the Greeks in the background of this tale serve to tell us that the eyes of the world are on Jesus and what he will do next. This has escalated far beyond the scale of a localized religious dispute. With the eyes of the world upon him, Jesus chooses to follow his destiny to the cross. The parable of the wheat going to seed indicates that he believes this action will result in more people being drawn to God.
From the perspective of his disciples, this must seem like nonsense. In their experience, dead rabbis don't collect many disciples. How can the convoluted logic of Jesus ever hold up in the light of day? How can a violent, sacrificial death bring glory to anybody?
No wonder God wades in and speaks in thunderous tones. If they are to accept what they are being told by Jesus, they will need some sign.
Then a voice came from heaven, "I have glorified it, and will glorify it again."
In a voice like thunder, God speaks two difficult truths to those who hear:
I have glorified it...
Somehow, the fantastic claims of Jesus must be true. When Jesus eschewed his own will and sought the will of God, when he expressed a willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice in the eyes of the world, God's name was glorified. Somehow, this bizarre act of surrender became a mark of victory.
...and will glorify it again...
The key word here is "again." It takes us back to the troubling fact that Jesus has invited his disciples to follow in his footsteps.
As his sacrifice has glorified God, so too will ours.
These were Jesus' enigmatic words after God spoke in thunder from Heaven in John Chapter 12.
Christians speak often of "hearing God's voice" of "listening to God." What we usually mean by this, though, is a prayerful discernment of what we believe the Spirit may be nudging us to do. Occasionally, we may be given a clear word. Less frequently still, we may actually hear something so clear that we would describe it as audible. In reality, though, we probably wouldn't expect the voice to register on a tape recorder. We understand this speech as being something on the spiritual realm.
Jesus spoke often to God, and presumably received this same sort of guidance. On a handful of occasions in the gospels, though, God spoke aloud in such a way that bystanders could hear. One occasion was at Jesus' baptism.
The gospel writers seem divided on the issue of who God was speaking to in this moment. Look how Mark (1:11) has God addressing Jesus, while Matthew (3:17) has God addressing the bystanders about Jesus.
On another occasion, the testimony is unanimous. At the transfiguration, God spoke almost exactly the same words, but this time the gospels agree that the audience for the remarks are the disciples (or at least Peter, James, and John.) "This is my son. Listen to him."
In John 12, God speaks in a voice that some hear as thunder, and others hear as the voice of an archangel. His pronouncement is that His name has been glorified and will be glorified again. Jesus is clear that this word is for the disciples.
Why this particular pronouncement? Why does God, who remains almost painfully silent at times, choose this moment to make His thunderous proclamation?
This is just one of the riddles that surround this story.
The tale opens with a discreet approach towards Jesus by some "Greeks who were worshiping at the festival. They do not approach Jesus directly, but come to Philip first. Why?
Perhaps they are aware that many devout Jews would refuse to receive them during the festival, for fear of becoming unclean through contact with Gentiles. They wonder if Jesus will receive them or not.
Evidently Philip is confused on the matter himself. He turns to Andrew for advice. Andrew doesn't know what to do either. Together they approach Jesus.
If they expected their rabbi to clear things up, they would be disappointed:
"The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 24I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. 25The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be.
Quite aside from the fact that Jesus has given them no guidance on what answer to give the Greeks, his little speech poses riddle of his own. He is speaking of being glorified at the same time he seems to be speaking of dying.
Given our post-Easter understanding of Jesus, this all makes a certain amount of sense. But given the information the disciples had to work with, it's hard to know how they would have understood Jesus' words. It certainly sounds as if Jesus is saying he's about to die. He seems to suggest that somehow this is a glorious thing.
Even more troubling, though, is his suggestion that his disciples are supposed to follow in his footsteps. Is he asking us to follow him to our death?
None of the disciples could be thrilled about that. In fact, Jesus himself wrestles with his coming fate:
27"Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. 28Father, glorify your name!"
The presence of the Greeks in the background of this tale serve to tell us that the eyes of the world are on Jesus and what he will do next. This has escalated far beyond the scale of a localized religious dispute. With the eyes of the world upon him, Jesus chooses to follow his destiny to the cross. The parable of the wheat going to seed indicates that he believes this action will result in more people being drawn to God.
From the perspective of his disciples, this must seem like nonsense. In their experience, dead rabbis don't collect many disciples. How can the convoluted logic of Jesus ever hold up in the light of day? How can a violent, sacrificial death bring glory to anybody?
No wonder God wades in and speaks in thunderous tones. If they are to accept what they are being told by Jesus, they will need some sign.
Then a voice came from heaven, "I have glorified it, and will glorify it again."
In a voice like thunder, God speaks two difficult truths to those who hear:
I have glorified it...
Somehow, the fantastic claims of Jesus must be true. When Jesus eschewed his own will and sought the will of God, when he expressed a willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice in the eyes of the world, God's name was glorified. Somehow, this bizarre act of surrender became a mark of victory.
...and will glorify it again...
The key word here is "again." It takes us back to the troubling fact that Jesus has invited his disciples to follow in his footsteps.
As his sacrifice has glorified God, so too will ours.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
How to Build a Set of Bookends
I have been studying some of the agricultural picture Jesus uses in his parables, and find myself studying John 15.
John 15 carries the picture of Jesus as a vine, and his disciples as branches. Simply put, the parable teaches that those who "abide" in Jesus will "bear much fruit." This will earmark them as followers of Jesus and bring glory to God the Father.
The other gospels include similar thematic material. Both Matthew and mark, for example, include a story of Jesus cursing a fig tree for failing to bear fruit. In Matthew's gospel, the story appears immediately after Jesus' famous visit to the Temple in Jerusalem, in which he upturns the tables of the moneychangers and drives out the sellers of doves and lambs.
Mark ties these two stories together even more strongly, actually inserting the tale of Jesus' rant against the Temple into the middle of the story of the fig tree. Both authors, I suspect, saw a strong connection between Jesus displeasure with an unfruitful fig tree and his displeasure with what he found going on in the Temple. The moral to the story, it seems, is that God will judge the unfruitful Temple in the same way that Jesus judged the fig tree.
Combining these two images is not a new idea. The prophet Isaiah (Chapter 5) presents us a poetic picture of a well tended vine that bears no fruit. He invites the reader to judge between the vine and the vinedresser. Of course, the unfruitful vine must go. For Isaiah, the vine is a symbol of Israel, who failed to bear the fruit of justice and righteousness. He foresees the destruction of Jerusalem and the resulting exile as God's judgment against Israel for failing to be fruitful as his people.
Matthew and Mark both see echoes of this in the withered fig tree and in Jesus' word spoken against the priestly authority of the Temple. They see both as prophetic, declaring God's displeasure with Israel for failing to bear the fruit of justice and righteousness.
John also tells the story of Jesus' visit to the Temple, but in his gospel, this story is placed at the very beginning of Jesus' public ministry. The story of the fig tree disappears, reappearing (at least thematically) in Jesus' final words to his disciples before the Passion. We're pretty sure John had access to the gospels of his fellow evangelists before he wrote his own. He will be well aware that he is taking two images that have been seen together in the earlier gospel tradition and splitting them apart. He has, in a sense, taken the prophetic act of judgment against Israel. apart from the prophetic word and placed them at either end of Christ's public ministry... like bookends. In so doing, he places the entire ministry of Jesus into the context of prophecy against the Jews.
We're uncomfortable with this. As modern Christians, most of us have developed a well justified distaste for anti-Semitism in any form. To discover that the gospel writers (especially Matthew and John) are so patently judgemental against the Jews sends us back-pedalling.
Many scholars rush to tell us that the gospels are written aginst a backdrop of conflict between early church and synagogue. The stories of Jesus' life and death are heavily influenced by the tensions between jews and Christians at the time of their writing. They inform us that Jesus probably didn't say any of that anti-Semitic stuff we read in the gospels. The church added it later to justify their own break with their Jewish roots. Jesus was, afters all, they remind us, a Jew himslef.
This last point, though, deserves more careful observation. Jesus was Jewish. So, presumably were Matthew and John. Recent scholarship around the gospel of john has dispelled the once prevalent myth that John is a "Greek" gospel far removed fromjewish roots. We have come to understand that John, in its day, was intensely Jewish. Ditto with Matthew, who quotes the Tanak like a Rabbi.
What we fail to grasp, I think, was that what Jesus, Matthew, and John are doing in their teaching is the most fundamentally Jewish thing they could do. They are doing what Isaiah and Jeremiah and Elijah all did before them. They are entering into prophetic confession. Jesu' critique of the Temple should not be seen as anti-Semitic, but as prophetic. It is the word of warning offered from one jew to another, the corrective word of the prophet offered to the peple of God.
Read in this light, John's gospel carries a message of confession. It is not "Those evil jews finally got what they had coming." It is "O Lord God, what have we, your people, done?"
The old saying says "Confession is good for the soul." This most certainly true. But the greater role of confession may be to bind people to one another and a common vision.
John, in invoking the image of the vine in chapter 15 is following in the footsteps of Isaiah, sounding a prophetic judgement against the people of Israel who have failed to bear fruit. What he does with the image is also intensely Jewish. He outlines a new hope.
Just as Isaiah promises a "shoot out of the stump of Jesse," Jesus offers a hope for the rebuilding of god's people: "If you abide in me, you will bear much fruit." Jesus life and ministry stand not only as a confession for God's people that they have failed to bear fruit, but shines a light forward. BY choosing to follow the path of Jesus, the people of God can find restoration and fulfill their ultimate destiny as a change force in the world.
John 15 carries the picture of Jesus as a vine, and his disciples as branches. Simply put, the parable teaches that those who "abide" in Jesus will "bear much fruit." This will earmark them as followers of Jesus and bring glory to God the Father.
The other gospels include similar thematic material. Both Matthew and mark, for example, include a story of Jesus cursing a fig tree for failing to bear fruit. In Matthew's gospel, the story appears immediately after Jesus' famous visit to the Temple in Jerusalem, in which he upturns the tables of the moneychangers and drives out the sellers of doves and lambs.
Mark ties these two stories together even more strongly, actually inserting the tale of Jesus' rant against the Temple into the middle of the story of the fig tree. Both authors, I suspect, saw a strong connection between Jesus displeasure with an unfruitful fig tree and his displeasure with what he found going on in the Temple. The moral to the story, it seems, is that God will judge the unfruitful Temple in the same way that Jesus judged the fig tree.
Combining these two images is not a new idea. The prophet Isaiah (Chapter 5) presents us a poetic picture of a well tended vine that bears no fruit. He invites the reader to judge between the vine and the vinedresser. Of course, the unfruitful vine must go. For Isaiah, the vine is a symbol of Israel, who failed to bear the fruit of justice and righteousness. He foresees the destruction of Jerusalem and the resulting exile as God's judgment against Israel for failing to be fruitful as his people.
Matthew and Mark both see echoes of this in the withered fig tree and in Jesus' word spoken against the priestly authority of the Temple. They see both as prophetic, declaring God's displeasure with Israel for failing to bear the fruit of justice and righteousness.
John also tells the story of Jesus' visit to the Temple, but in his gospel, this story is placed at the very beginning of Jesus' public ministry. The story of the fig tree disappears, reappearing (at least thematically) in Jesus' final words to his disciples before the Passion. We're pretty sure John had access to the gospels of his fellow evangelists before he wrote his own. He will be well aware that he is taking two images that have been seen together in the earlier gospel tradition and splitting them apart. He has, in a sense, taken the prophetic act of judgment against Israel. apart from the prophetic word and placed them at either end of Christ's public ministry... like bookends. In so doing, he places the entire ministry of Jesus into the context of prophecy against the Jews.
We're uncomfortable with this. As modern Christians, most of us have developed a well justified distaste for anti-Semitism in any form. To discover that the gospel writers (especially Matthew and John) are so patently judgemental against the Jews sends us back-pedalling.
Many scholars rush to tell us that the gospels are written aginst a backdrop of conflict between early church and synagogue. The stories of Jesus' life and death are heavily influenced by the tensions between jews and Christians at the time of their writing. They inform us that Jesus probably didn't say any of that anti-Semitic stuff we read in the gospels. The church added it later to justify their own break with their Jewish roots. Jesus was, afters all, they remind us, a Jew himslef.
This last point, though, deserves more careful observation. Jesus was Jewish. So, presumably were Matthew and John. Recent scholarship around the gospel of john has dispelled the once prevalent myth that John is a "Greek" gospel far removed fromjewish roots. We have come to understand that John, in its day, was intensely Jewish. Ditto with Matthew, who quotes the Tanak like a Rabbi.
What we fail to grasp, I think, was that what Jesus, Matthew, and John are doing in their teaching is the most fundamentally Jewish thing they could do. They are doing what Isaiah and Jeremiah and Elijah all did before them. They are entering into prophetic confession. Jesu' critique of the Temple should not be seen as anti-Semitic, but as prophetic. It is the word of warning offered from one jew to another, the corrective word of the prophet offered to the peple of God.
Read in this light, John's gospel carries a message of confession. It is not "Those evil jews finally got what they had coming." It is "O Lord God, what have we, your people, done?"
The old saying says "Confession is good for the soul." This most certainly true. But the greater role of confession may be to bind people to one another and a common vision.
John, in invoking the image of the vine in chapter 15 is following in the footsteps of Isaiah, sounding a prophetic judgement against the people of Israel who have failed to bear fruit. What he does with the image is also intensely Jewish. He outlines a new hope.
Just as Isaiah promises a "shoot out of the stump of Jesse," Jesus offers a hope for the rebuilding of god's people: "If you abide in me, you will bear much fruit." Jesus life and ministry stand not only as a confession for God's people that they have failed to bear fruit, but shines a light forward. BY choosing to follow the path of Jesus, the people of God can find restoration and fulfill their ultimate destiny as a change force in the world.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Growth Parables
Mark chapter 4 is a central chapter in that gospel.
To begin with, you'll find more red letters here than in the rest of the gospel. Mark has long been recognized as a reporter of Jesus' actions more then his words. What little Mark tells us about what Jesus said is concentrated mostly here.
The chapter is made up almost entirely of parables. In fact, Mark insists: "He did not say anything to them without using a parable. (vs 34)"
In the modern church, we often think of parables as being concrete stories intended to make abstract principles easier to grasp. In fact, Jesus' parables are nothing of the sort. His disciples quickly tumble to the point. They have almost no idea what he's trying to say, or why he's using such strange and obfuscating language.
Jesus' explanation doesn't help much. He basically says, "If you get it, you get it. If you don't you don't." Then he proceeds to illustrate this point with a few more parables.
The key parable in the chapter is the parable of the sower. This one alone is interpreted (at least partly!) for the disciples. Jesus explains that the kingdom of God is like seed scattered over all sorts of soil with varying results. The difference in the results, Jesus tells us, has to do with the depth of our understanding and our willingness to lay other agendas aside. It's a parable about why some people don't understand parables!
In fact, parables should be read more as riddles than as illustrative tales. Jesus' parables don't so much explain the Kingdom of God as they deconstruct our current understandings and challenge us to think "sideways."
Mark's insistence that this was Jesus' primary teaching tool helps us understand some of the other quirky aspects of this gospel. For example, why does Mark focus so much attention on Jesus' actions rather then his words? And why, oh why does Jesus repeatedly forbid his disciples and others to speak the truth about who he is in a public forum?
Mark helps us along a little on the first question. In Chapter Six he tells of the feeding of the five thousand, followed by a story about Jesus walking on water. The tale ends with this statement:
51Then he climbed into the boat with them, and the wind died down. They were completely amazed, 52for they had not understood about the loaves; their hearts were hardened.
Here Mark hints rather baldly that Jesus' miracles are not just flashy events, but are intended to be interpreted and understood. For Mark, Jesus' life is seen as a series of parables, his whole ministry a riddle demanding an answer.
Like all good riddles, "getting it" is half the fun. Just as Jesus lobs his homey little tales about seeds and yeast and buried treasure out into the crowd without explanation, he acts out his role as Messiah in a sort of game of Kingdom Charades. He insists that his disciples not give away the punch line. This is something, he insists, that people will either understand or not understand, depending on their frame of reference.
This very challenging aspect of Jesus' ministry is often overshadowed in the other gospels, where Jesus' spoken word takes a larger role. In these gospels, we are given enough meat that we never really get around to gnawing on the bone. Mark, on the other hand, focuses our attention on the enigmatic mystery surrounding this man named Jesus.
To begin with, you'll find more red letters here than in the rest of the gospel. Mark has long been recognized as a reporter of Jesus' actions more then his words. What little Mark tells us about what Jesus said is concentrated mostly here.
The chapter is made up almost entirely of parables. In fact, Mark insists: "He did not say anything to them without using a parable. (vs 34)"
In the modern church, we often think of parables as being concrete stories intended to make abstract principles easier to grasp. In fact, Jesus' parables are nothing of the sort. His disciples quickly tumble to the point. They have almost no idea what he's trying to say, or why he's using such strange and obfuscating language.
Jesus' explanation doesn't help much. He basically says, "If you get it, you get it. If you don't you don't." Then he proceeds to illustrate this point with a few more parables.
The key parable in the chapter is the parable of the sower. This one alone is interpreted (at least partly!) for the disciples. Jesus explains that the kingdom of God is like seed scattered over all sorts of soil with varying results. The difference in the results, Jesus tells us, has to do with the depth of our understanding and our willingness to lay other agendas aside. It's a parable about why some people don't understand parables!
In fact, parables should be read more as riddles than as illustrative tales. Jesus' parables don't so much explain the Kingdom of God as they deconstruct our current understandings and challenge us to think "sideways."
Mark's insistence that this was Jesus' primary teaching tool helps us understand some of the other quirky aspects of this gospel. For example, why does Mark focus so much attention on Jesus' actions rather then his words? And why, oh why does Jesus repeatedly forbid his disciples and others to speak the truth about who he is in a public forum?
Mark helps us along a little on the first question. In Chapter Six he tells of the feeding of the five thousand, followed by a story about Jesus walking on water. The tale ends with this statement:
51Then he climbed into the boat with them, and the wind died down. They were completely amazed, 52for they had not understood about the loaves; their hearts were hardened.
Here Mark hints rather baldly that Jesus' miracles are not just flashy events, but are intended to be interpreted and understood. For Mark, Jesus' life is seen as a series of parables, his whole ministry a riddle demanding an answer.
Like all good riddles, "getting it" is half the fun. Just as Jesus lobs his homey little tales about seeds and yeast and buried treasure out into the crowd without explanation, he acts out his role as Messiah in a sort of game of Kingdom Charades. He insists that his disciples not give away the punch line. This is something, he insists, that people will either understand or not understand, depending on their frame of reference.
This very challenging aspect of Jesus' ministry is often overshadowed in the other gospels, where Jesus' spoken word takes a larger role. In these gospels, we are given enough meat that we never really get around to gnawing on the bone. Mark, on the other hand, focuses our attention on the enigmatic mystery surrounding this man named Jesus.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)