MARK'S VISION OF GOD'S NEW WORLD ORDER

by Ray Pickett

(draft copy not to be reproduced in any form - print to read only)

From Oral to Written Gospel

   The Gospel of Mark is the first written narrative of the ministry of Jesus. Before Mark there are oral traditions, sayings of and stories about Jesus which were eventually written down, but the only other texts used by early Christians were the Jewish scriptures and the letters of Paul. It is in Paul's letters, written between 48 and 55 CE, that the term "gospel" appears for the first time, though he neither shows nor assumes any interest in the details of Jesus' life and death. For Paul "the gospel" refers to the message of Christ's death and resurrection. Although there are reasons to think that the Gospel of Mark has been influenced by Paul's conception of the gospel, the word "gospel" has come to mean something different in Mark. For Paul, the gospel of Jesus Christ refers to content of his preaching about the crucified Christ whom God raised from the dead. It denotes a revelation of God in Christ communicated through an oral medium. In Mark, "gospel" occurs in the first line as part of the title which designates his literary written account of the ministry of Jesus: "The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ.”  Given that no less than one half of Mark is devoted to a graphic depiction of the events leading up to and surrounding Jesus' crucifixion, it is apparent that Mark's story of Jesus shares the Pauline emphasis on the significance of his death. Yet by translating the oral proclamation of the death and resurrection of Christ into a written narrative. Mark altered the medium and hence the message of the gospel.

   As difficult as it is to imagine early Christianity apart from the four canonical Gospels, the production of the Gospel of Mark around 70 CE marks the beginning of a new era in which the church began to be shaped by this and other narrative accounts of Jesus. Before the Gospel of Mark, the memory of Jesus was preserved through ritual and oral tradition.  Whoever wrote this Gospel knew about baptism and eucharist and had heard sayings, parables, healing stories, and accounts of the crucifixion circulated by the oral legacy of Jesus which lived in the popular imagination of the earliest Christian communities. Indeed, the sayings source Q and the Gospel of Thomas are indicative of a transitional stage in the development of the tradition where dominical sayings were copied and collated into a collection of aphoristic wisdom that guided followers of Jesus. The organization of this material into a coherent narrative is the singular accomplishment of the Gospel of Mark. Moreover, discrete traditions about Jesus have not here simply been gathered and strung together like pearls on a string, as the form critics once thought. Some of the characteristic features of this Gospelsuch as repetition and organizing material in duplicate and triplicate do reflect the influence of oral rhetoric. But by creatively arranging and interpreting the Jesus tradition in terms of plot and point of view, a fluid oral tradition was transformed into a fixed literary tradition which became the standard for subsequent narrative interpretations of Jesus.

   Before the Gospel of Mark, the evidence of Paul suggests that believers were initiated into the communities of faith by participating in the death and resurrection of Jesus through baptism. The baptized gathered weekly to sing hymns to Christ, read the Jewish Scriptures, and remember the Lord's death around a meal. In the context of worship, there may also have been prophetic utterances and some exhortation based on sayings of the earthly (sayings tradition) and risen Jesus. While there were undoubtedly variations and expansions of this pattern of early Christian worship, this generic description helps us to imagine communities that were defined largely by a ritual devotion to Christ and by their association with Jewish synagogues. Until late in the first century CE Christianity existed within the ambit of Judaism, and its worship practices were modeled on those of the synagogue. The first followers of Jesus worshiped in the synagogue. As the Jesus movement made inroads to the Diaspora it retained its association with Judaism, and both its Scriptures and pattern of worship continued to be formative even as Christianity became an increasingly more Gentile phenomenon. The emergence of the Gospel of Mark onto this scene raises some interesting questions about the impact of a narrative portrayal of the ministry and death of Jesus on early Christianity. In particular, it raises questions about the effect and uses of a narrative text about Jesus among Christian communities who knew and related to him primarily through oral tradition and ritual.

   Any attempt to address these and other questions about how Mark's story of Jesus shaped early Christian beliefs and practices is mitigated by the difficulty in situating this Gospel in a particular location. There are some clues in the text about its setting and situation which will be explored later, but there is neither unambiguous historical data nor a consensus view about where and for whom this Gospel was composed. Often the genre of a literary work will provide some insight into its purpose and function. However, the Gospel of Mark does not fit neatly into any known category of ancient literature. Some scholars have emphasized the similarity between the Gospels and Greco-Roman biographies, but Mark's lack of interest in the details of Jesus' life and its preoccupation with his death betokens its dissimilarity with this and other literary forms in antiquity, including ancient historiography. Mark must have modeled his original account of Jesus' ministry and death on these and other genres of ancient literature, but these works do note the purpose and function of this particular narrative.

   One important reason why the Gospel of Mark bears little resemblance to most other ancient literary works is that it is not a product of literate culture. Only a very small percentage of people in the ancient world could read and write. For the most part, literature during this time was written by the educated elite for the educated elite. In contrast to this, the Gospel of Mark was composed for followers of Jesus who were by and large illiterate and belonged to the lower strata of Greco-Roman society. Like other literature in antiquity, the Gospel of Mark would have been dramatically read or performed for an audience. The difference is that Mark's audience would have been populated by peasants, artisans, and slaves. This audience would have shared certain convictions about who Jesus was and what he had accomplished, and they would also have had in common certain experiences of Greco-Roman society. In the Gospel of Mark, the memory of Jesus' death and resurrection around which communities of Christ throughout the Mediterranean world gathered is expanded upon, interpreted and organized around a plot. Yet this Gospel provides more than a particular point of view about what Jesus said and did. The purpose of rhetoric in antiquity whether oral or written, whether for privileged or under class, was to persuade the hearer to think and act in a certain way. As a product of and for the proletariat. Mark was not written in accordance with classical rhetorical handbooks or formal rhetorical conventions. Nonetheless, by the first century BCE classical rhetoric had been domesticated and provided the rules for making critical judgments in the course of all forms of social intercourse.  In trying to situate Mark on the landscape of early Christianity, our aim is not so much to discern patterns of rhetorical composition as to inquire about the rhetorical effect of this Gospel. If rhetoric is the art of persuasion, then what values and virtues did this narrative attempt to inculcate in its hearers, and what critical judgments did it render on society as a whole and the particular groups with whom it interacted?

   In an attempt to ascertain how this Gospel might have shaped the beliefs and practices of its first auditors, the lack of external evidence about how this text was used in early Christianity requires an imaginative exploration of how the narrative world of Mark interfaces with what is known about the social environment of the Mediterranean world.  This involves reading Mark's Gospel in the light of basic knowledge of the structures and values of Greco-Roman society as well as Jewish practices and beliefs during this period.  The Gospel of Mark displays a deep engagement with both Greco-Roman and Jewish social settings.  Indeed, they serve as the foil against which Mark constructs an alternative vision of life by telling the story of Jesus. Although this Gospel purports to be a realistic depiction of what Jesus did and of what happened to him, it is at the same time a translucent account of the narrator's conception of a particular manner of living that is not only embodied by Jesus but also to be emulated by his followers. Mark's narrative of the ministry and death of Jesus constitutes what Kelber calls a "pedagogical paradigm", inspiring the disciples to learn by imitation and participation.  As the audience witnessed a performance of this text, they would themselves have contemplated how they were to perform this story in their own cultural settings. What the Gospel discloses about the particularities of the first audiences' real life circumstances is rather opaque, though there are some hints in the text. But at the very least this narrative betrays an ideal of what it meant to follow Jesus, and this ideal can be gauged against what we know about the ethos of daily life in the Greco-Roman world.

   In writing an historical narrative that incorporated elements of oral and written tradition, Mark imposed a sequential order on material that had no inherent coherence. The narrative world which was constructed by creatively ordering the Jesus tradition also tacitly proposed a social order which is differentiated in the text from that of Greco-Roman society and scribal Judaism. The values and practices of the kingdom of God are set in contrast to other values and practices, and are brought to light within the narrative through portrayals of conflicts between Jesus and other authorities, both secular and religious. When Jesus debates with the Pharisees about fasting in Mark 2:18-22, he remarks that "no one puts new wine into old wineskins ... but one puts new wine into fresh wineskins" (v.23). This is an incident in which the nearness of the kingdom of God (1:15) not only relativizes a particular aspect of Jewish piety, but anticipates that the advent of God's reign in the ministry of Jesus would supplant traditional Jewish practices and structures, at least as they are represented by the religious elite in Mark's Gospel. Likewise, in 10:41-45 Jesus interprets his death in terms of the service (v.45), and this is set in contrast to the practice of Gentile rulers who are depicted as "tyrants" (v.42). These are but two of many examples in which the "gospel" as a way of life exemplified by Jesus is distinguished from Jewish and Greco-Roman principles and practices, both notably exemplified by characters from the more privileged class within their respective domains. Reading Mark with a view to ascertaining in what ways his portrayal of Jesus contrasts, conflicts, and coincides with Jewish and Greco-Roman values and customs, and seeing these values and customs as reflecting to some degree the issues and struggles of those who heard it performed, provides a means of imagining the role this Gospel played in early Christianity.

"The Way of the Lord": Jesus and the New Exodus

   After the opening announcement that this is "the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ", the next words heard are from the Jewish Scriptures. Although Mark ascribes the words to the prophet Isaiah, the quotation is actually a conflation of a passage from Is. 40:3 with portions of Ex. 23:20 and Mal. 3:1. What an ancient audience knew that often eludes modem interpreters is that the prologue provided an overview of what the audience was about to hear. According to Aristotle, the purpose of the prologue was to provide "an indication of what is to be said so that hearers can know beforehand what the work is about". The main themes are put forth at the outset, and are expanded upon in the body of the work. These citations from the Jewish Scriptures announce to the listener that the "gospel of Jesus Christ" has something to do with the "way of the Lord".  In Isaiah the expression "way of the Lord" anointed one (“Cristos"), the messiah, through whom God had made good on the promise to deliver Israel.

   Mark is doing more here than making use of Old Testament language and imagery. The three Old Testament citations ascribed to the prophet Isaiah in 1:2-3 evoke Second Isaiah's theme of the new exodus as the paradigm, or conceptual framework, for the structure and plot of this Gospel. In Second Isaiah, Israel's founding memory of her liberation from Egypt is the basis of the hope that God will lead her out of its Babylonian exile in a new exodus (cf. Is. 41:17-20; 42:1643:14-21; 48:21;49:9-12; 52:11-12). Several of the Isaian themes relating to the new exodus are evident in the prologue and throughout Mark's Gospel. The first word of Mark in the Greek text is "beginning", and most likely echoes the "beginning of creation" in Genesis 1:1.  It is notable that in Second Isaiah Yahweh is pictured as the creator of the world (40:26) and Israel (43:7,15) who orders the chaos (45:18). In Is. 51:9-11 the new exodus is identified with Yahweh’s victory over the primeval chaos-dragon (cf. Ps. 74:12-17). The word "gospel" also has its background in Second Isaiah. In Is. 40:9-10 the participle is used twice to proclaim the "good news" that "the Lord comes with might". The staging ground for Yahweh's future victory over the power of evil is the wilderness. Just as with the first exodus, the second exodus takes place in the wilderness where Israel will experience Yahweh's presence and provision anew (Is. 40:3; 48:20-21).                                                        

   The hope for a second exodus is associated with the expectation that Israel will return to the desert (Is. 40:3) in anticipation of Yahweh's deliverance. This accounts for the exaggerated claim in Mark 1:5 that all the country of Judea and all the people of Jerusalem went out to the desert to be baptized by John. But if the wilderness is emblematic of the memory and hope of Yahweh's powerful deliverance of Israel from her oppressors, it also recalls Israel's unfaithfulness. The excerpts from Ex. 23:20 and Mal. 3:1 underline this aspect of Israel's history. The promise in Ex. 20:32 that Yahweh will send a "messenger" to guard Israel "on the way" belongs to the Book of the Covenant and emphasizes Israel's responsibilities in the covenant relationship with Yahweh: "be attentive to him and listen to his voice; do not rebel against him" (Ex. 23:21). In Mal. 3:1 the messenger who prepares the "way" for Yahweh sounds a note of judgment against those who violate the covenant, namely "those who oppress the hired workers in their wages, the widow and the orphan, against those who thrust aside the alien, and do not fear me, says the Lord of hosts" (Mal. 3:1-5). Mark looks to these Old Testament texts here not just to cull imagery for his narrative. Rather the very plot of the Gospel appears to be derived from refers to God coming in strength to redeem Israel from Babylonian oppression and lead her back to Zion. However, the term "way" also occurs throughout Mark, especially in 8:27-10:45, as a metaphor for following Jesus. Mark has introduced a prolific (fecund) image from the Jewish Scriptures in 1:2-3 which declares God's coming deliverance. The term "way" occurs twice in these verses and has at least two connotations. It denotes the God who is "great in strength, mighty in power" who "gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless" (Is. 40:26-29), and is used later in the narrative to depict the path of faithful obedience exemplified by Jesus as he journeys to Jerusalem where he will be crucified.

The inclusio, or thesis, of Mark's prologue is heralded by John the Baptist in 1:15: "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the gospel".  John's pronouncement serves as a bridge between the vision of God's coming conjured up by the Old Testament citations and the ministry of Jesus, even as John is himself a transitional figure in the narrative between Jesus and the prophets (cf. 1:7-8). Mark's introduction to this Gospel prompts the listeners to apprehend his subsequent portrayal of Jesus' ministry and death as the fulfillment of Isaiah's prophecy. The story of Jesus is set in the context of God's dealings with Israel. In addition to the Jesus tradition, the Old Testament is the other main source used by Mark. The blending of Mal. 3:1 with Is. 40:3 reflects knowledge of the Hebrew or Aramaic text, and this in turn suggests that the author was Jewish. Identifying the ethnic composition of Mark's audience is more difficult, though the explanation of the purity code in 7:3 indicates that the Gospel was written primarily for Gentiles that were not familiar with the intricacies of Jewish law. Nonetheless, the Gospel does appear to assume a basic familiarity with the broad contours of Israel's history. The Markan prologue betrays an expectation that those who heard this Gospel, be they Jew or Gentile, would appreciate that Jesus was the reading these passages in their respective contexts with a view to demonstrating that Yahweh's coming liberation is bound up with the call for a suitable preparation and response on the part of Israel. The threat of judgment looms on the horizon at the outset both to motivate the hearers to align their lives with God's purposes, and as a premonition of divine judgment on the Jerusalem establishment (Mk. 11-13).

   Our focus in reading the Gospel Mark is on how it might have been heard and appropriated in an early Christian context, and it is unlikely that an audience, especially a Gentile one, would have been attuned to the nuances of these citations upon hearing them.  Yet the Jewish evangelist who wrote this Gospel has set his story of Jesus in a covenantal context and rendered its significance in terms of the new exodus motif of Second Isaiah. So even if the of the details of the memory and hope evoked by these scriptural echoes were beyond the reach of the average listener, it reflects a prophetic tradition that has fundamentally shaped the design of Mark's narrative. These passages from the Jewish scriptures are put to work in the prologue to apprise the listener that this narrative is a depiction of Yahweh's triumph over the power of evil through the ministry and death of Jesus. John the Baptist appears on the scene in the wilderness as Malachi's Elijah (Mal.4:5) to prepare people for the arrival of Yahweh's anointed. His task is twofold. First, his baptism of repentance is the vehicle through which rural and urban Jews, as well as those who witness this Gospel drama, would radically reorient their thoughts and actions to the "way of the Lord" in order to ready themselves for his arrival. John's other task is to herald the coming of one after him who is more powerful and who baptizes with the Holy Spirit (1:8).

   Jesus is revealed to be the "more powerful" one at the moment of his baptism by John in the Jordan (1:9-11). The audience is here given privileged access to an epiphany in which Jesu saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on    him. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my Son, the beloved; with you   I am well pleased'. Here, too, are echoes from the Jewish Scriptures which clarify the identity and vocation of the protagonist of the story and throw more light on its plot. There is a striking similarity between the tearing of the heavens at Jesus' baptism and Is. 64:1:

      0 that you tear open the heavens and come down ... so that the nations       might tremble at your presence! (64:1-2).

The vivid cosmological imagery surrounding Jesus' baptism signals to the hearer that the boundary between the realms of heaven and earth has been traversed in this one on whom the Spirit descends. Speaking in the language of Scripture, the voice from heaven identifies Jesus as "beloved Son" (1:11). The appellation "son" comes from Psalm 2:7; a royal messianic psalm used at the coronation to enthrone the king as God's representative over against the "rulers of the earth" (Ps. 2:2, 10). Jesus' baptism is here conceived of as an enthronement of sorts inasmuch as he is anointed with the very Spirit that hovered over the primeval chaos at the "beginning' of creation (Gen. 1:1-2) in order that he might be endowed with divine authority to execute God's triumph over the forces of evil. He is then "immediately" driven into the wilderness for forty days by this same Spirit where his Spirit empowered mastery of Satan foreshadows the ultimate victory that will be accomplished through his death.

   The Gospel of Mark is frequently described as a narrative Christology concerned primarily with the disclosure of Jesus' true identity as God's Son. This focus is evident not only in the prologue, but is also affirmed for the benefit of the disciples in the middle of the narrative at the transfiguration (9:7). Finally, the confession of a Roman centurion at the moment of Jesus' death that demonstrates in dramatic fashion that Jesus is preeminently known as God's Son in crucifixion (15:39). Throughout the narrative only God, the demons and the listener have recognized Jesus for who he really is because that could not be fully known, except by those with inside information, until he fulfilled his destiny on the cross. Yet a reading of Mark which is more oriented to its first hearers suggests that this Gospel is more than a

Christological conceptualization. It seems unlikely that an audience from the lower strata of society living at a subsistence level would have been interested in Jesus' identity as a topic in and of itself. In early Christianity, christological concepts and confessions emerged

primarily in the context of worship where the faithful expressed their devotion to Christ in hymns and prayers. Although this Gospel was probably heard more often than not in a worship setting, it betrays an activist rhetorical strategy that sought to involve and influence the listener. In other words. Mark's depiction of Jesus' ministry and death serves to link the hearer's life and destiny with his so as to bring their attitudes and actions into conformity with the "way of the Lord" which he embodies.

   The prologue notifies the listener in the second line of this Gospel that this telling of "the gospel of Jesus Christ" is to be understood in the light of the prophet's portrayal of the "way of the Lord". The Isaian phrase "way of the Lord" is deployed in Mark's narrative todepict Jesus' journey to the cross and the path of his followers who "deny themselves and take up their cross" (8:34), that is to say, they follow Jesus' example in doing what God wants rather than what they want (cf. 14:36). However, the "way of the Lord" alludes first and foremost, both chronologically and in importance, to Second Isaiah's characterization of the advent of Yahweh as mighty warrior who inaugurates the deliverance of his people from their bondage among the nations (40:10-31.;51:9-16; 52:10-15). Jesus' proclamation of the "gospel of God" and his announcement that the "time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God has come near" are meant to be understood in the light of Second Isaiah's hope of God's victorious reign. It is the claim that this hope will be realized through the ministry and death of Jesus thatconditions the expectations of the hearers and constitutes the plot of Mark's story of Jesus.

   Upon hearing the first fifteen verses of Mark's Gospel, a first century audience would have been presented with a longstanding promise that the God of Israel would come to establish justice on the earth, (cf. Is. 42:4). Doubtless those who heard in these opening lines John attest to imminent arrival of "one who is more powerful" (1:7) would have begun to wonder how their own life situations might be improved or rectified by the "good news of Jesus Christ". The promise had credibility because it was grounded in the story of God's covenant relationship with Israel. In antiquity, a story or tradition was thought to be reliable only if continuity with the past could be demonstrated. People were generally suspicious of ideas that were novel and practices that appeared de novo. Mark has incorporated the new exodus schema of deliverance, journey, and arrival at Yahweh's dwelling from Second Isaiah as the basis of his story line.  Deliverance is what is offered to those who journey to Jerusalem with Jesus. While Mark's introduction assures the audience of God's ultimate triumph through Jesus, how this deliverance occurs is somewhat surprising; contrary to every expectation of how victory is normally obtained. So the prologue raises expectations on the part of the hearers about God's coming in strength, but those expectations must be modified as the Divine power is manifested in unforeseeable ways. Moreover, as members of the audience were drawn every more deeply into this drama, they would have been challenged to assess the narrative's claim on their own lives. The hope of deliverance engendered by the promise of Yahweh's imminent arrival is met with expectations that those who hear this story would follow the “way of the Lord" exemplified by Jesus.

Conflict and the Social Setting of Mark

   God's deliverance of those who "repent and believe the good news" (1:15b) will not be a militarist defeat of the enemies of God's people, though in Second Isaiah Yahweh is likened to a "warrior" who "shows himself mighty against his foes" (Is. 42:13).  Nonetheless, the coming of God's kingdom does meet with resistance. The manifestation of God's power in the ministry of Jesus provokes conflict because it challenges the source and brokers of that power which works against God's creative and redemptive purposes.  Two things the audience learns about Jesus immediately after the theme of the Gospel is announced in 1:14-15 is that Jesus has a "way" after which he invites others to "follow" him (1:16-20), and that he has an "authority" that distinguishes him from other authoritative figures in the story. In the first of five consecutive conflict stories, Jesus' authority is contrasted with that of the scribes and is used to subdue demons (1:21-28). The word "authority" occurs eleven times in Mark and the word "power" eight times, indicating that a struggle between Divine sovereignty and displays of power that are antagonistic to the "way of the Lord" is central to this narrative.

   The conflict stories in these first chapters of Mark exhibit two levels of hostility that are correlative. The first exorcism in 1:21-28 makes the audience fully aware of what has already been intimated in the accounts of Jesus' baptism and temptation, namely that the opposition Jesus encounters in his ministry has a transcendent dimension. The tearing of the heavens at his baptism and the testing by Satan in the wilderness reflect a cosmology that was characteristic of the Hellenistic world in general. This world view is aptly summarized by Luther Martin:

The terrestrial, sublunar realm was sharply separated from the celestial, superlunar realm by an abyss of cosmic space populated by elemental and demonic powers.  These powers controlled the terrestrial realm, even as they in turn were controlled by the celestial deities. This new architecture of the cosmos, together with the new international political       topography, defined the hierarchical and horizontal framework of a Hellenistic world system and structured the religious forms distinctive to it (Hellenistic Religions, 80).                                                

Through his exorcisms Jesus demonstrates God's power to liberate people from demonic powers that hold them hostage. In these early episodes Jesus is depicted primarily as an exorcist and a healer(cf. 1:34,39,40-45; 2:11-12; 3:1-6, 10-11). It is his use of Divine power to restore those who are burdened by illness or tyrannized by demonic forces that leads to a conflict between Jesus and Jewish authorities. Ostensibly some Jewish scribes criticize Jesus because he heals a paralytic by forgiving his sins, a prerogative reserved for God alone (2:7), eats with sinners and tax collectors (2:16), does not fast (2:18), and violates the sabbath on two occasions (2:23-28; 3:1-6). But the juxtaposition of their objections to Jesus' ministry with Jesus' assault on the demonic realm suggests to the hearer a collaboration between his cosmic and temporal adversaries.

   The implicit association between Jesus' temporal and preternatural opponents is made explicit in the confrontation between Jesus and the scribes in 3:20-30. The scribes here acknowledge Jesus' authority over demons, but, ironically, they contend that it comes from Beelzebul, the "ruler of demons" (3:22). This accusation is ironic because the audience knows that God is the source of Jesus' power. In response to their attempt to discredit him, Jesus turns the tables on them and announces his own assault on the domain of Satan: "But no one can enter a strong man's house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered" (3:27). At this point in the narrative the hearer recognizes the "strong man's house" as the province of Satan, and knows that Jesus is the "stronger one" who has himself prevailed over Satan in the wilderness (1:12-13). But the reference to binding the strong man and plundering his property is a riddle that will not be solved until the incident in the temple in 11:15-17.

   There are some striking verbal parallels in the Greek text of this passage which elucidate the meaning of 3:27. In the citation from Is. 56:7 (11:17) the temple is referred to as a "house", and the only other appearance of the term which is translated as "goods" in 3:27 is in 11:16 where it denotes the vessels of the temple cult which Jesus prohibits from being carried through the temple. Jesus "exorcises" "those who were selling and those who were buying in the temple" (11:15), but the second allusion to Jer.7 in 11:17 reveals the nub of Jesus' criticism: "you have made it 'a den of robbers'". His censure here is directed against the chief priests and the scribes, as 11:18 makes clear. The charge that they have made the temple a "den of robbers" seems to have the same force in Mark as it does in Jeremiah's oracle of judgment against the temple. Jeremiah exhorts the ruling class to "amend your ways and your doings" and to "truly act justly one with another" (Jer.7:5). The express mention of their oppression of "the alien, the orphan, and the widow" (Jer. 7:6) suggests that Jeremiah's oracle may serve as a backdrop for Mark's pericope about the temple establishment's exploitation of the widow who gives her whole livelihood to the temple in 12:41-44.

   The connection between 3:20-30 and 11:15-17 is highlighted here to illustrate that in Mark's narrative world the conflict between the kingdom of God and the demonic realm is a cosmological battle that reflects a struggle at the temporal level between Jesus and the Jewish aristocracy. In the light of Martin's summary of Hellenistic religion, it could be said that those who belong to the upper echelon of the social hierarchy are seen to be governed by demonic powers. Although this correlation is not made explicit until later in the narrative, the influence of the malevolent spirits was so woven into the fabric of the ancient world view that we can assume that Mark's audience would have discerned the correspondence between Jesus' exorcisms and his disputes with the scribes in the early chapters of Mark. Another example of this cosmology is the episode of the Gerasene demoniac in Mark 5:1-20. In this elaborate story, the hearer learns that the name of the demon Jesus exorcises is "Legion"(5:9), a Latin loanword for a Roman military regiment of approximately six thousand soldiers. The narrator relies upon the hearer to ascertain the equivalence between the man in the tombs who is so overcome by demonic power that he has to be restrained, and the occupation of Palestine by Roman military power.

   The "kingdom of God" which Jesus proclaims and enacts is a metaphor for God's power in Mark. It is evident from how this power is used to restore human beings that the power of the Spirit is a different order of power than that of the demons and the Jewish authorities. The plot of this Gospel is driven by the struggle between these two antithetical kinds of power. From the first conflict stories in Mark, Jesus is seen to be moving inexorably toward his death as a consequence of the Jewish establishment's hostility towards him. As early in the narrative as 3:6, the narrator tells the audience that the "Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him". Although the passage in which the scribes allege that Beelzebul is the source of Jesus' power indicates that they presume that their authority is derived from God, the conflict stories themselves provide the criteria by which the hearers differentiate between Jesus' authority and that of the Jewish leaders. What distinguishes Jesus' authority from that of the scribes is, that he uses it to heal and to help those in need. While staying at the house of Simon and Andrew he "cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons" (1:43). In response to scribes who accuse him of eating with tax collectors and sinners he tells them "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but I have come to call not the righteous but sinners" (2:17). When the Pharisees accuse him of doing what is not lawful on the sabbath, he cites the incident from 1 Samuel 21:1-6 in which David and his companions ate the bread of the presence when they "were hungry and in need" (2:25). Finally, in the second sabbath controversy in which Jesus cures a man with a withered hand, he challenges the Jewish authorities with a question: "Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?" (3:4).

   This rhetorical question exaggerates the difference between Jesus and Jewish authorities here. They would most likely have allowed a violation of the sabbath to save a life, and it is apparent that this man's life is not in jeopardy. Nonetheless, this sabbath controversy brings into sharp relief for the hearer the fundamental difference between Jesus and his rivals. Jesus is here presented as an advocate of poor village people who are hungry and harassed by disease and demons. Divine power is mediated through him "to save life" (3:4). From the standpoint of an audience whose own circumstances and experiences of daily life would be similar to those of the minor characters who populate this story, Jesus is identified in the first part of Mark as the "more powerful" one who delivers those who are powerless. His antagonists, on the other hand, are depicted as guardians of the Jewish legal tradition who serve the social order from which the indigent population in the narrative, as well as the audience, has been disenfranchised. Ostensibly the Jewish law is the focus of conflict between Jesus and these Jewish legal experts, but the obvious social distance between Jesus' followers and the scribal establishment suggests that the issue of status forms the basis of the religious controversy in these incidents.

   A brief profile of the Jewish groups who are opposed to Jesus in Mark casts light on the social dimensions of the confrontation between Jesus and the Jewish authorities in this Gospel (note that none of these groups except the Pharisees exist after 70).  Jesus’ primary antagonists in Mark are the scribes.  Scribes are professional interpreters of Jewish law. Some of the scribes in Mark belong to the Pharisaic movement (2:16). In the debate about purity laws in 7:1-23 some scribes appear with the Pharisees.  Together they had come down to Galilee from Jerusalem, as did the scribes mentioned in 3:22. Both these groups in Mark are seen to be influential members of the ruling circles in Galilee and Jerusalem. However, only the scribes appear again in the passion narrative with elders and chief priests, who together constitute the Sanhedrin. Upon hearing about Jesus' outburst in the temple, it is the chief priests and the scribes who "kept looking for a way to kill him" (11:18), and who are ultimately, along with the elders, responsible for handing him over to Pilate to be crucified (15:1). The only other Jewish groups who receive passing notice are the Herodians (3:6; 12:13) and the Sadducees (12:18). The Herodians were client princes who ruled the land on behalf of the Romans from and about 40 B.C.E., and come into view with the Pharisees in a contest with Jesus over paying taxes to the emperor. The Sadducees as a group make a showing in only one passage where they ask Jesus a question about the resurrection (12:18-27). They belonged to the ruling aristocracy in Jerusalem who competed with the Pharisees for political influence.

   Jewish sects like the Pharisees and Sadducees had different perspectives on the interpretation of Jewish law. Indeed the Sadducees defined themselves over against the Pharisees as religious conservatives for whom only the written Torah was authoritative.  The Pharisees, on the other hand, were oriented more towards reform, and appealed to oral traditions not present in the written Torah (cf. Mark 7:5. But the predominant Jewish group in Mark, the scribes, have no distinctive ideological position.  They are a professional class of legal experts, most of whom probably belonged to the retainer class. Although they engage Jesus in theological debate (Mark 12:28-34), it is their privileged status rather than a particular interpretative stance that is in the foreground in Mark's narrative. This is made clear in the passage in which Jesus denounces the scribes as a group:

Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the market places, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets. They devour widows' houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers (12:38-40).

This emphasis on the scribes' preoccupation with honor and status is accentuated by the fact that this critique follows on the heels of a more sympathetic depiction of one scribe who queries Jesus about the commandments. The conversation about Torah in 12:28-34 underlines the common theological ground shared by Jesus and the scribe, and demonstrates to the hearer that Jesus does not deviate in the least from the fundamental tenets of Judaism. Although the disputes between Jesus and the Jewish leaders in Mark do, on occasion, have a religious dimension, the crux of the conflict in this narrative concerns the social tension between Jewish leaders who are members of or in alliance with the ruling class of Judea and the populace of rural Judea, most of whom probably lived at subsistence level.

   A passage from Sirach, a widely used book of wisdom used for study and instruction in educational settings, illustrates the social location of scribes:

The wisdom of the scribe depends on the opportunity of leisure; only the one who has little business can become wise. How can one become wise who handles the plow, and who glories in the shaft of the goad, who drives oxen and is occupied with their work, and whose talk is about bulls? He sets his heart on plowing furrows, and he is careful about fodder for the heifers. So it is with every artisan and master artisan who labors by night as well as by day ... All these rely on their hands, and all are skillful in their own work. Without them no city can be inhabited, and wherever they live, they will not go hungry. Yet they are not sought out for the council of the people, nor do they attain eminence in the public assembly... How different the one who devotes himself to the study of the   law of the Most High! (Sirach 38:24-34).

   The work of a scribe who pursues wisdom presupposes leisure, which is the prerogative only of those of higher social standing in antiquity. The scribes, Pharisees, and Herodians in Mark are, for the most part, retainers of the upper stratum of society. The retainer class served to mediate both governmental and religious functions to the lower classes and to village areas. Their position and power was predicated on their relation to the urban elite. The urban elite in Mark's story is represented by the Jerusalem aristocracy; the chief priests and members of the Sanhedrin who conspire together to convince the Roman prefect Pilate to execute Jesus.  Most of the other characters in Mark, including Jesus, belong to the lower stratum of society. These include farmers, fishermen, agricultural tenants, day laborers and wage earners, indebted servants and slaves, and artisans. At the very bottom of the lower stratum were beggars, prostitutes, shepherds and bandits. The great majority of people who belonged to the lower stratum were probably poor or destitute.

   Two features of the landscape of Mark's narrative world would seem to have particular importance in trying to imagine the impact of this text on first century hearers. First is the preponderance of destitute, unclean, and socially marginalized people who interact with Jesus in this Gospel. The sick and demon possessed, the unclean (1:40; 5:25; 7:25-26; 14:3), and the dispossessed (6:34; 7:31; 8:22; 10:46), which includes the children (9:36-37; 10:13-16), a widow (12:42) and the "crowds" are the main beneficiaries of Jesus' ministry. The disciples themselves should be situated somewhere between subsistence and poverty in the milieu of agrarian peasant society. Just as Jesus is thoroughly identified with those on the margins, if not the underbelly, of this social map, so one would expect the hearers of this Gospel to identify with this sector of the population. Although the characters in Mark's story most likely reflect the setting of Jesus' ministry in Palestine early in the 30's of the Common Era, they also typify the rural circumstances of Greco-Roman society a generation later (70's CE). This corresponds to the other telling feature of this narrative, namely that it occurs primarily in a rural environment. Again, while this undoubtedly preserves something of the original rural Galilean context of Jesus' ministry, the manner in which Matthew and Luke have urbanized the Jesus tradition they get from Mark suggests a rural provenance for this Gospel.

   The geographical setting of Mark will be discussed in more detail in the last section of this chapter. What is important at this juncture for understanding the interpretive horizon of the first hearers of the Gospel of Mark is that the narrative progression from Jesus' ministry in Galilee to his crucifixion at the hands of Jewish and Roman authorities in Jerusalem is representative of a profound social tension between an agrarian peasant underclass and an urban elite and their retainers. An audience witnessing a performance of this story would more than likely have seen shades of their own struggles against social, economic and cosmic forces under which they labored to eek out an existence. Presumably they would have projected their own experiences of indebtedness, poverty, illness, shame, and the tyranny of a rigidly stratified society onto Mark's portrayal of the conflict between Jesus and Jewish authorities. Most of the population of the Roman empire in the first century CE lived with debt, hunger, and illness on a daily basis, and this is to say nothing of the stigma of having little or no status in a social order obsessed with honor and power.  The living conditions of real auditors obliges contemporary readers of Mark to envision the force of Isaiah's hope of a new exodus (1:2), John's announcement of the "more powerful one" (1:7), and Jesus' message that "the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near"( 1:15) for a vulnerable and forlorn populace with little or no expectation of improving their quality of life.

The "Way" of the Cross: The Power of the Suffering Messiah

   The first hearers of Mark would have gathered in groups to listen to the Gospel performed in its entirety.  Narratives which were meant to be performed orally have a different structure and style than the more linear pattern typical of most literary works familiar to contemporary readers.  Important for understanding how those who heard Mark performed would have been drawn into the story is Havelock's explanation of the acoustic principle of the echo, which is characteristic of oral composition:

What is to be said and remembered later is cast in the form of an echo of something said already; the future is encoded in the present. All oral narrative is in structure continually both prophetic and retrospective ... the narrative is not linear but turns back on itself in order to assist the memory to reach the end by having it anticipated somehow in the beginning.

As Dewey observes, this is an apt description of Mark's narrative technique, which "consists of forecasts and echoes, variation within repetition, for a listening audience". The importance of Mark's prologue as a foreshadowing of the narrative's main themes has already been emphasized, especially with reference to the motif of the new exodus signaled by the phrase "way of the Lord" (1:3).  The word "way" (6S6s) is used twice in the prologue itself, and it occurs fifteen times throughout the narrative. Most of these occurrences are found in Mark 8-10 where Jesus explains to his inner circle of disciples what it means to follow him. Hence when the audience hears the word "way", this is an aural prompt to recall the "way of the Lord" announced in the prologue. In this middle section of Mark the listener is, with the disciples, invited into a particular "way" of "seeing" and living which is both taught and exemplified by Jesus. Yet the "way" which is set out for those who follow Jesus in faith is preceded and, indeed, predicated on Mark's account of Yahweh's triumph and deliverance as it is manifested in the ministry of Jesus.

   Interpreters of Mark have long noted the stark contrast between the deeds of power Jesus performs in the first part of this Gospel and his suffering in the passion narrative.  These are usually thought to represent two inconsistent portraits of Jesus, and thus it is not uncommon to view the depiction of an impotent Jesus in the face of persecution and suffering as a critique of his displays of God's power in Galilee. But as Dewey notes, narratives that are performed orally are additive and aggregative so that what Jesus does for people in the first portion of Mark is to be integrated into the account of what is done to him in the passion narrative. A rural audience situated in the lower stratum of society would presumably have identified with the healings, exorcisms, feedings, and nature miracles in the Galilean section of Mark, as well as the ridicule and abuse of Jesus by Jewish and Roman authorities in Jerusalem. A brief consideration of the echoes and patterns of repetition in the deeds of power Mark 1-8 has important implications for comprehending how the sort of audience being posited for this Gospel may have been empowered as they vicariously participated in Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem, his protest in the Temple, his betrayal, arrest, trial, and execution.

   The term "way" reverberates throughout the first twelve chapters of Mark summoning the listener to consider the episode being narrated in terms of what it discloses about the "way of the Lord" announced at the outset. This "way" is in the middle section of Mark (8:22-10:52) set out by Jesus as he teaches his followers about the implications of his impending suffering and death, but the episodes narrated in the preceding section demonstrate the arrival of the new exodus prophesied by Isaiah. In the exorcisms and healings of the first chapters of Mark, Jesus is the agent of Yahweh, "great in strength, mighty in power" (Is. 40:26), who redeems Israel. Although Mark anticipates that his audience will apprehend this aspect of Jesus' ministry in the light of the inauguration of the Isaianic new exodus, his profile of Jesus as exorcist and healer is probably derived from the earliest oral traditions about Jesus. In other words. Mark is here recounting what he knows about the historical Jesus and interpreting it as the fulfillment of the long awaited new exodus in which Yahweh would deliver Israel from her captors. The exodus and hope of a new exodus provide the listener with an interpretive framework for Jesus' ministry in Galilee.

   Some of the other healings and miracles in Mark 1-8, however, are more symbolic and appear to have been shaped to a large extent by imagery from Second Isaiah and Exodus.  The first of the so-called nature miracles occurs is an incident in which Jesus calms a storm as he and the disciples are crossing to the "other side" of the sea of Galilee in a boat (4:35-41). This episode introduces important Markan themes such as Jesus' foray into Gentile territory, and the counterpoint between fear and faith which challenges the hearers to assess their own response to the call of Jesus. Yet the question posed by the disciples who witness his power to calm the turbulent sea is pivotal for this entire section of Mark: "Who, then, is this, that even wind and the sea obey him?" (4:41). Jesus himself answers this question in the second mighty work on the sea narrated in 6:45-52. The disciples are again sent to the "other side" of the sea, and while they strained against adverse winds Jesus "came towards them early in the morning, walking on the sea" (6:48). Jesus responds to the disciples' dismay with these words:  "Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid" (6:50). The phrase that is here translated "It is I" is in Greek "I am"; a construction which alludes to Yahweh's disclosure of the divine name to Moses (Ex. 3:13-15; cf. Is. 41:4; 43:10-11). Heard together, these two episodes on the sea disclose to those with eyes to see that the same divine power which delivered the Israelites from bondage to Pharaoh by dividing the Red Sea is at work in Jesus' ministry of deliverance. Both accounts reflect the language of the Divine-Warrior hymns of early Israel, such as the Song of Moses in Exodus 15, in which Yahweh's victory over Israel's enemies is expressed by his creative power over the chaos of the sea.

   The first of the sea incidents initiates a series of Jesus' works of power: calming the sea (4:35-41), healing the Gerasene demoniac (5:1-20), healing the hemorrhaging woman and Jairus' daughter (5:21-43), and the feeding of the five thousand (6:30-44). The second sea incident begins a second series of mighty works: walking on the sea (6:45-52), healing many at Gennesaret (6:53-56), healing the daughter of the Syrophonecian woman (7:24-30) and the deaf man in the Decapolis (7:31-37), and feeding the four thousand (8:1-10). Just as the two sea incidents are symbolically linked accounts which echo the exodus tradition, so too are the two feeding stories correlative examples of Jesus mighty works which also evoke the exodus story. Both are set in the "wilderness" (6:32, 35; 8:4) and recall Israel's miraculous sustenance by God (Ex. 16:13-35; Num. 11:1-35). In part, the significance of dual accounts of Jesus' power over the chaos of the sea and his ability to provide the basic necessities of life concerns the beneficiaries of his deeds of power. In the healing episodes initiated by the sea incidents, Jesus heals both Jews (hemorrhaging woman, Jarius' daughter, and many at Gennesaret) and Gentiles (Gerasene demoniac, Syrophonecian woman, and the deaf man in the Dacapolis). Hence the narrative force of "crossing" back and forth between Gentile and Jewish territory.

   The healings, calming the sea and walking on water, and feeding the multitudes are all works of power which show the hearer that the same divine power which was at work through Moses to lead Israel out of bondage to the Egyptians is now at work through Jesus. These ten “deeds of power" establish not only that Yahweh is the source of the power Jesus displays on behalf of those in need, but also that this is power which is always used in the service of the Divine purpose of restoring, sustaining, and redeeming human life.  This to crucial to the Gospel inasmuch as the conflict between Jesus and the Jewish authorities which drives the main plot it is ultimately about power, In the first conflict story Jesus was seen to have an "authority" which distinguished him from the "scribes" (1:22,27). This authority to heal and to cast out demons is at the nub of every encounter between him and the scribes and Pharisees in the first chapters of Mark.  The scribes who come down from Jerusalem actually acknowledge this authority, but credit it to Beelzebul, the ruler of demons (3:22). The ten "deeds of power" in Mark 4-8 further corroborate the divine origin and purpose of Jesus' power. Consequently they foreshadow the escalating struggle between him and the Jewish leaders and which results in his passion.

   The debate concerning the origin and uses of power intensifies as Jesus begins to travel beyond Galilee and ultimately to Jerusalem, the symbolic center of power in Second Temple Judaism. Although Peter's confession of Jesus as the "Messiah" at Caesarea Philippi is usually regarded as the turning point of Mark's Gospel, this section is preceded by a portentous passage in which the Pharisees ask Jesus for a "sign from heaven" to verify his divine authority (8:11). Jesus assures them that "no sign will be given to this generation" (8:12). However, there is a certain irony in this statement inasmuch as those who have been able to understand the significance of his "deeds of power" and have recognized him for who he is, namely the demons in the narrative and the audience outside of it, have been given numerous "signs" that point to presence of God in strength to restore and deliver those have been oppressed by hostile powers. Cosmic "signs" will also be witnessed at the crucifixion for those with eyes to see. But at this point in the story, the narrator underlines for the audience the failure of Jewish authorities and disciples alike to comprehend that he is the agent of God's redemptive power:

Do you still not perceive or understand? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes, and fail to see? Do you have ears, and fail to hear? And do you   not remember?  (8:17-18).

While these rhetorical questions are addressed to the disciples who have seen Jesus feed the multitudes twice and are nonetheless worried about having no bread, they are also directed to the hearer who must in the ensuing narrative ascertain the difference between the divine power which is at work through Jesus and the hegemonic power which will become even more prominent in the passion.

   Jesus warns the disciples about this kind of power in 8:15: "Watch out—beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod". The Pharisees have been characterized as religious authorities in the service of a social order from which most of the people whom Jesus helps have been marginalized. Since in Jewish understanding "yeast" is a metaphor for evil, it is their complicity in an oppressive social system that is brought into focus. A particularly egregious case in point is recalled with the mention of Herod. Auditors of the Gospel have just been told about the arrest and beheading of John the Baptist by Herod (6:14-29). But what is striking about this example of moral corruption is that Herod, though governor of Galilee, is portrayed as a weak ruler who is manipulated by his wife (6:26). This caricature of Herod as hostage to his spouse's desires tacitly discloses something about the source and nature of the authority of temporal and religious leaders in the Gospel.

   The essential difference between the two regimes, the kingdom of God and the imperial social order, is dealt with expressly in Jerusalem when the chief priests, the scribes and the elders ask Jesus point blank: "By what authority are you doing these things? Who gave you the authority to do them?" (11:28). Jesus replies with another question which threatens to expose the real source of their power: "Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin" (11:30). The Jewish leaders perceive the dilemma posed by Jesus' question:

If we say, 'From heaven', he will say, 'Why then did you not believe him?' But shall we say, 'Of human origin'?" - they were afraid of the crowd, for   all regarded John as truly a prophet. So they answered Jesus, 'We do not       know.’

The hearer has known since Jesus' baptism that his authority comes from "heaven" (1:10-11). This is affirmed again in the transfiguration where, this time for the benefit of the disciples and listeners, the same divine voice from heaven is heard: "This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him" (9:8).  Throughout the narrative the Jewish leaders presume that their authority, too, is derived from heaven, but this encounter makes it apparent that whatever influence they have resides with the "crowd", whom they fear. This is a pivotal passage in Mark inasmuch as it delineates two mutually exclusive sources of authority:  human or divine. Just as Herod was manipulated by his wife and the Jerusalem authorities fear the crowd, so too will Pilate, the chief exemplar of temporal power, yield to the same mob against his better judgment and crucify Jesus (15:12-15).

   These three scenes in Mark epitomize the contest between divine and human power which culminates in the arrest, trial and crucifixion of Jesus.  Moreover, these passages, situated as they are in the middle of the Gospel, show the continuity between the emphasis on Jesus’ deeds of power on behalf of the powerless in the first half of Mark and his ostensible lack of power at the hands of religious and political authorities in the second half. The passion narrative evinces the use and abuse of power by Jewish and Roman leaders so as to present the hearer with a contrast between the "way of the Lord" exemplified by Jesus and the way of the Greco-Roman social order and its defenders. In considering the social location of the original audience of this Gospel, we suggested that the poverty, illness, indebtedness, and shame which typifies the narrative world of Mark also characterized life in Greco-Roman society in the first century. In recounting the Galilean ministry of Jesus Mark has cultivated in the hearer an empathy with those whom Jesus has delivered from the power of evil, whatever form it may have taken. As the narrative shifts the hearer's attention to Jerusalem, this same malevolent power will be personified in those who exercise the authority of the social order. In this section the narrative evokes the audience's own experiences of hegemonic rule as it witnesses Jesus being mistreated. The same Jesus who triumphed over this power in his exorcisms, healings, and teaching becomes, in Jerusalem, its victim. The hearer's own deliverance is contingent on the ability to see Mark's unmasking of this system of domination and violence for what it is.

   Jesus enters Jerusalem, the seat of Jewish religious authority, in dramatic fashion (11:1-ll). He sends two disciples ahead to procure a "colt that has never been ridden" (11:2).  These instructions echo Zechariah 9:9; an oracle which depicts the arrival of the king in Jerusalem: "triumphant and victorious is he. humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey". Noteworthy here is Jesus' self-designation "the Lord"; the most exalted use of this title in Mark. As Jesus approaches Jerusalem, the people cry out, using words from Psalm 118:25-26, in anticipation of the "coming kingdom of our father David". This entire scene, with its Scriptural allusions, has messianic overtones and bears an unmistakable resemblance to a royal procession of a triumphal nationalist hero. Yet the juxtaposition of this image of the Jewish peasant from rural Galilee on a donkey with that of a procession signifying political prestige and pretension make it clear that this is a parody of the imperious power ceremonially enacted in these familiar royal processions. Although Jesus is hailed by the people as a messianic ruler in the tradition of David, nothing in this portrayal is consistent with how Jesus has been represented so far in the narrative, nor with how he will be represented in the passion narrative.

   If the hearer has any doubt that Mark is here subverting the hope of a political deliverer invoked by this scene, the notion that Jesus is Davidic Messiah is dismissed out of hand in 12:35-37. In this passage Jesus refers to the scribes' view that the Messiah is the son of David. He cites Psalm 110 which has David addressing "the Lord". The appellation "the Lord" acoustically links this passage to 11:3, the only instance in Mark where Jesus refers to himself as "the Lord". The audience has know since the prologue that Jesus is the "Son of God" (1:1, 11; 9:7), and hence that his status is far above the popular conception of Messiah. Moreover, Psalm 110 is an enthronement Psalm used in the earliest Christian tradition to affirm Jesus' exaltation to the right hand of God where he rules in divine power (cf. 1 Cor. 15:25; Acts 2;34-35; Heb. 1:13). Throughout this section of Mark, from the so-called "triumphal entry" to the empty tomb, the divine power with which Jesus was imbued at his baptism is not diminished, but neither is it efficacious in confronting the ruling authorities. His power and status stem from God, and from Mark's perspective this is precisely why he suffers and is rejected by Jewish and Roman authorities whose power and status is founded in their role in the religio-social order. The confrontation between divine and human power comes to a head in Jerusalem. And while Jesus' power to do good and to save life (3:4) is hidden from view in this portion of the narrative, his status as God's Son is not only upheld but reinforced. This seems to be the purpose of the transfiguration theophany (9:2-13) where Jesus is shown to be "clothed" with divine glory, which is tantamount to presenting him as being in the form of God, that is, one who reveals the divine mode of being.

   Upon arriving in Jerusalem Jesus challenges the temple establishment, and it is this symbolic gesture in the temple itself that ultimately leads to his execution in the Gospel (cf. 11:18). This incident is interwoven with another episode in which Jesus curses a fig tree because, in a state of hunger, he finds it to be barren. This entire scene is saturated with references to the Jewish Scriptures, and these intertextual echoes provide the hearer with the necessary frame of reference for comprehending the significance of this prophetic sign-act. The fig tree would have been recognized as a metaphor for the temple-based nation and its cultus. Hence, the hearer is cued to apprehend Jesus' action in the temple as a prophetic judgment on the temple establishment.  However, it is the economic and social effects of temple operations rather than the cultus per se that is the focus of Jesus' ire. Or, as Myers puts it, "it is the ruling-class interests in control of the commercial enterprises in the temple market that Jesus is attacking".

   The excerpt from the Jewish Scriptures in 11:17 is a conflation of Isaiah 56:7 and Jeremiah 7:11. Both quotes are taken directly from the Septuagint, and together betray the specific content of his criticism. If, as has been suggested, the original hearers of this Gospel were Jewish, then it can probably be assumed that they would have grasped something of the connotations of these passages in the context of the prophetic writings themselves. The first citation from Is. 56:7 belongs to an oracle in which "the Lord God who gathers the outcasts of Israel" promises to bring "foreigners who join themselves to the Lord" to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem (56:7-8). This passage describes what the temple should be: "a house of prayer for all nations". The second citation from Jer. 7:6 expresses what the temple has in fact become under the leadership of the priestly aristocracy: "you have made it a den of robbers". This citation is part of Jeremiah's oracle against Judah for trusting the temple cult without observing the Mosaic covenant by acting "justly with one another" (7:5). In particular, the oracle exhorts the people of Judah not to "oppress the alien, the orphan, and the widow" (7:6); a directive that is based on an agenda for social justice found in various places in Deuteronomy (10:18-19; 24:17-22; 27:19).  Whether the hearer would have perceived the intertextual connections is hard to say, but the episode which features the widow putting two coins in the temple treasury (12:41-44) makes it abundantly clear that the temple, instead of administering justice and relief to this woman, took from her everything she had.

   It is not so much the temple itself as the Jerusalem authorities who preside over it that are indicted by Jesus. That the temple establishment recognizes this is evident in the fact that upon hearing Jesus make these pronouncements they immediately begin to look for a way to kill him (11:18). This theme of judgment against Jerusalem is further developed in Mark 13 where Jesus predicts the destruction of the temple. Mark 13 is generally regarded as the clearest window on the actual location and situation out which this Gospel emerged, and it will be dealt with in more depth in the last section. From the standpoint of an audience hearing Mark performed, it is at this stage of the story that the plot to kill Jesus, which occupies the remainder of the narrative, is seen to be the direct result of Jesus' indictment of the temple and its custodians. In the middle section of Mark Jesus taught his disciples, no less than three times, that it was "necessary" ((5<?0 for him, as "Son of Man" to "undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again" (8:31; cf. 9:31; 10:33-34). These passion predictions raise for hearers the question of why Jesus' rejection by the Jerusalem aristocracy is inevitable, or "necessary". The temple incident and its interpretation answer this question and clarify the reason for Jesus' impending fate. From the narrator's perspective, under the patronage of the Jerusalem authorities the temple has become an exclusive institution which financially exploits people. In denouncing the temple Jesus has posed a challenge to the power base of official Judaism as it was represented by the chief priests, elders and scribes of Jerusalem, and consequently he will, with assistance of the Imperial bureaucracy, be expurgated from the sacred social order.                    

   Mark 14-15 relate the legal proceedings by means which Jesus is arrested, tried, and then crucified. There is much in these final chapters of Mark that pertains to the hearers and beckons them to assess their own faith vis-à-vis characters in the passion narrative such as the woman who anoints Jesus at Bethany (14:3-9), Peter and the other disciples, and perhaps even Judas. Yet the most pronounced feature of this part of the narrative is the brutality of the Jewish and Roman authorities as Jesus is first hauled before the Jerusalem council where he is charged with blasphemy (14:53-65), and then the Roman prefect Pilate.  When Jesus is arrested, a guard draws his sword and cuts off the ear of the high priest's slave. Jesus asks the entourage from the Jerusalem authorities who have come to arrest him: "Have you come out with swords and clubs to arrest me as though I were a bandit?" (14:48). At the trial before the Jerusalem council some "gave false testimony against him" claiming they heard him say he would destroy the temple (14:58). Finally, he is brought before Pilate by the council. Although Pilate is unable to ascertain his crime, he nonetheless hands him over to be crucified in order to placate the crowd. The audience must then witness the horror of the crucifixion as Jesus is mocked, taunted, spit upon, and then hung on a cross. In the end, the hearer has been presented with a miscarriage of justice and a gruesome abuse of power, which has implicated Jewish and Roman authorities alike as examples of the personification of the very power of evil Jesus exorcized during his ministry in Galilee. Nonetheless, the hearer has been told not only that Jesus' execution was "necessary", but also that it would somehow be redemptive (10:45; 14:22-25). It is to this question of how an audience might have conceived of Jesus' death at the hand of Pilate and the Jerusalem council as liberating them from the power of evil, and as in some sense exemplifying the way of the Lord, that we now turn.

Faith, Power and Praxis: The "Way" of Liberation in Mark

   We have been attempting to read the Gospel of Mark from the standpoint of its first hearers. This requires the interpreter to imagine, at least in a generic sense, the living conditions of people, particularly Jews, living in a rural milieu under Roman rule in the first century of the Common Era, and then to imagine how such an audience's apprehension of the Gospel was guided by its structure, aural prompts, characterization, plot, and narrative flow.  Mark announces the "good news" that Jesus is the "Son" of the God who comes in strength to deliver those who trust and follow the "way of the Lord" which he reveals. The nearness of the "kingdom of God" is also proclaimed by Jesus (1:15), and it is the disclosure of God's power in his ministry that provoked the hostility of Jewish leaders which, in turn led to his execution by Roman authorities. That an audience from society's lower stratum would have identified with Jesus, the disciples and the marginalized beneficiaries of his ministry in its hearing of this story seems readily comprehensible. What is less apparent is exactly how the tragic turn of events in Jerusalem might have done anything other than undermine Jesus' earlier display of divine power on their behalf and thwart the hearer's hope for deliverance. Yet no less than three times in Mark 8-10 Jesus has given his followers prior notice that he would "undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again" (8:31; cf. 9:31; 10:33-34). These passion predictions anticipate the audience's recognition of the ostensible incongruity between the divine power at work through Jesus in the first part of the narrative and the preeminence of the power of evil evident in the actions of Jesus' antagonists in the second half. On one level these predictions serve somehow to bind Jesus' suffering and death to his ministry in Galilee so that the hearer apprehends them together as a disclosure of the "way of the Lord". More importantly, however, the three passion predictions have a didactic purpose. After each prediction Jesus instructs his followers regarding the implications of his impending suffering and death for their own lives as disciples.

   The task of this section is to envisage how those who heard this Gospel might have appropriated its message in the context of daily life. In previous sections we have suggested how an audience may have heard and been drawn into the narrative in terms of their identification with characters, themes, and issues presented in the Gospel. But the premise of all rhetoric in antiquity is that it was meant to influence the attitudes and actions of the listener. The Gospel of Mark is no exception, so this section will present a second reading of Mark oriented to its depiction of faith and praxis. It assumes that hearers were involved in Mark's story to the extent that it at least had the potential to shape the lives of those who considered themselves followers of Jesus. Although there is no way to assess the impact of Mark on early Christianity, other than as a source for Matthew and Luke, what can be gleaned from the narrative is an ideal or model of discipleship. While Mark was undoubtedly heard and put into practice in various ways, select passages in the narrative provide explicit guidance about what the disciple/hearer is supposed to perceive and do.

   The most unambiguous instructions for disciples, which also includes hearers, are found in those passages which contain the passion predictions. The second time Jesus warns his disciples of his fate in Jerusalem the narrator informs the listener that "they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask" (9:32). Throughout the narrative “fear" has been the antithesis or obstacle to "faith", and this tension becomes even more pronounced as Jesus begins to be drawn into the political process which results in his crucifixion. The first lesson on discipleship based on the premonition of his suffering, rejection, and death occurs after Peter's confession at Caesarea Philippi. Peter responds to this epiphany regarding Jesus' future by rebuking Jesus, and Jesus, in turn, rebukes Peter for espousing "human things" instead of "divine things (8:33):

If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels (8:34-38).

   The second passion-based lesson in discipleship is occasioned by an argument among the disciples on "the way" about who was the greatest. Jesus tells the disciples: "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all" (9:35). Then he took a little child, an exemplar of powerlessness in antiquity, and put the child in their midst; making it the symbolic center. The final passion prediction is not a prediction per se, but rather an interpretation of the significance of Jesus' death upon which a pivotal ethical exhortation is predicated:

You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first of among you must be slave of  all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many (10:42-45).

   These three passages convey the values and concomitant ethic which form the foundation of the Markan paradigm of following Jesus. The contrast between "human things" and "the things of God" which set up the first passion prediction supplies the hearer with the interpretive framework for the rest of the narrative. The "the things of God", which is the functional equivalent of the "way of the Lord" is defined first in terms of Jesus' suffering, rejection, and crucifixion, and then with regard to his admonitions which bind the praxis of discipleship to his own fate. "The things of God" refer not so much to the suffering Jesus must endure as to the manner in which he handles it and what that discloses about the "way of the Lord". The hearer, having been primed in 10:42, will recognize the trials and crucifixion as a quintessential example of the tyrannical power of rulers who wield their authority over others. Just as Jesus embodies the divine "way" in the face of their hegemonic power, so the ruling elite are a case in point of Peter's all too "human" criterion of judgment which Jesus identified with "Satan" in 8:33.  On one level, then, these passages counsel the hearer to construe Mark's account of the suffering, rejection, and crucifixion of Jesus as an exemplification of the 'things of God", i.e. as an epiphany of the "way of the Lord".

   By the same token. Mark's passion account provides the grounds for very specific principles of appraisal and action Jesus' followers are expected to abide. In 8:34 they are admonished to pattern their lives after the Jesus of the passion by "taking up their cross".  This metaphor is elucidated by the parallel injunction: "let them deny themselves". As Bruce Malina has shown, self-denial meant something very different in the collectivist culture of the Mediterranean world of the first century than it does in individualist societies like our own. In the ancient world, the "self", so to speak, was embedded in the group(s) to which one belonged. It was the goals and interests of the group rather than the individual that mattered most. People were known primarily by the roles their played within their particular ingroup; mainly the family or household. On this model, self-denial would entail the "negation of the core concern of the collectivist self: family integrity and all that that primary ingroup provides". To renounce family ties in a society where a person's security and honor depended on them would have been tantamount to "losing" or "forfeiting" one's life (8:35-36). There are other passages in Mark which indicate that following Jesus may very well have involved dissociation from one's own kinship structure; whether willingly or unwillingly.

   In a passage that immediately precedes the third passion prediction, Jesus replies to Peter's claim that the disciples "have left everything and followed" with these words:

Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters, or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for   the sake of the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life (10:29-30).

These verses seem to be transparent in that the situation they describe could apply as easily to Mark's hearers as to the twelve disciples. Jesus' words here may reflect an all too common scenario in early Christianity in the first generation or two where following Jesus may literally have involved leaving one's family. The positive side of being cutoff from one's household was being affiliated with a new fictive kin group. The immediacy and pertinence of this passage to the hearer is underlined by the phrase "now in this age" and the term "persecutions" (10:30). Both seem to allude to real time and actual occurrences in the lives of hearers rather than in the narrative itself. In the only other passage where Jesus discusses persecutions of his followers he mentions their being "beaten in synagogues" as well as family conflict:

Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put death; and you will be hated by all because of my name (13:12-13).

Although the language is more severe and the situation somewhat overdrawn, this pericope does give the impression that believers not only will but indeed probably were enduring these kind of hardships.

   The issue of loyalty to family was raised as early as the third chapter of Mark when a crowd told Jesus that his mother and brothers and sisters are asking for him. Jesus then took the opportunity to redefine family in terms of faithfulness to God:

“Who are my mother and my brothers?" And looking at those who sat around him, he said, "Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother” (3:33-35).

Here and in 10:30 there is a conspicuous absence of "father" in the fictive kin group comprised of Jesus' followers. That this is not inadvertent is indicated by the fact that father is included in the kinship group which people leave (10:29), but not the new kinship group organized around Jesus "now in this age". In a patriarchal culture the father had absolute authority over all other members of the household, and this meant that they were vulnerable to abuse under his roof. This kind of behavior, which was not uncommon in the ancient world, is similar to that of Jewish and Roman authorities in the narrative who exploit their power over others. It is also conceivable that the reason a follower might be "ashamed" of Jesus and his words (8:38) is that being disinherited from one's own ingroup brought dishonor, and this could be devastating in culture where honor is a highly valued and limited commodity. Although the texts themselves give no clear indication as to why believers were dissociated, or perhaps dissociated themselves, from their families, taken together these passages suggest that the first hearers of Mark's Gospel conceived of themselves as new ingroup of fictive kin who were bound to each other by their allegiance to Jesus.

   Jesus defined the goal of this new fictive kin group in 3:35 as doing "the will of God".  Jesus enacts the divine will in his Galilean ministry by using the authority he was imbued with at his baptism to help and heal others. After he astounds the hometown crowd at Nazareth with his authoritative teaching and deeds of power (6:2), though ironically he had little success there because of their "unbelief" (6:6), he sends the twelve out two by two and confers on them the same authority (6:7). In this instance the distance between leader and followers is significantly diminished for the hearer as the twelve also exorcize demons and cure the sick (6:13). However, Jesus attempts throughout his Galilean ministry to train his disciples how to access this divine power for the benefit of others with only minimal progress. In the first feeding incident the disciples are expected to feed the crowds themselves (6:37), and after the second feeding Jesus is dismayed at their failure to grasp God's capacity to provide sustenance for the hungry masses (8:17-21). The disciples' ineptitude in extending Jesus' ministry comes to a head in the penultimate healing episode in Mark when a man whose son was possessed by a spirit making him deaf reports to Jesus: "I asked your disciples to cast it out, but they could not do so" (9:18). As it turns out, Jesus also has a difficult time healing the boy, and uses this incident as an occasion for further instruction: "This kind can come out only through prayer" (9:29).

   Jesus' reply to the disciples' failure is: "You faithless generation, how much longer must I be among you?" (9:19). We will return to the important theme of faith in Mark momentarily, but it is important here to appreciate Jesus' effort to foster disciples who share in his ministry; a fictive kin group devoted to doing "God's will". The new values and norms which brothers and sisters in the faith are expected to live by are stated unequivocally in the second and third passion teachings. In the second passion teaching Jesus turns societal conventions on their head and decrees that the most honored members of this new fictive kin group are those who are "last of all and servant of all" (9:35). This communal norm is juxtaposed with the symbolic action of placing a child in the center (9:36-37). Holding in high regard those in society who were deemed powerless, namely children, is instituted as the value which upholds the practice of serving. As the third and last passion teaching makes clear, this paradigm of care for and by the weak and vulnerable "little ones" (9:42), set in contrast to the tyranny of the "great ones" (10.42b), is founded on the action of the Son of Man who "came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many" (10:45).

   It would be difficult to overstate the gravity of 10:42-45 as a key to comprehending the meaning and significance of Jesus' death for the life of faith. Mark 10:45 and 14:22-24 are the only passages which provide the hearer with some theological guidance in deciphering what happens to Jesus in the passion. First, as noted above, the death of Jesus is to be viewed as an act of serving which is the basis of the admonition to his followers to serve one another. Hence it has a straightforwardly ethical force. The notion that Jesus came to "serve" is elucidated by the correlative idea that he came to "give his life as a ransom for many" (10:45). The term "ransom" is not a sacrificial metaphor.  Indeed it is never used in the LXX as a sacrificial term. Rather it is an economic metaphor that denotes the buying back of hostages, and often referred to the sum paid for the manumission of a slave. In this instance a person rather than money is given in exchange for the hostages. Jesus goes into captivity instead of the "many". The image evoked here is that of a people living under slavery liberated by the death of Jesus. Jesus is here viewed as an envoy who gives his life in death as a payment for setting people free from bondage and oppression.

   This explanatory metaphor not only works as a prospectus to aid the hearer in making sense of Jesus' trials and crucifixion; it also recalls the theme of the new exodus announced in the prologue. In his Galilean ministry Jesus delivered people from the inimical forces which held them hostage, and this brought him into conflict with the retainers of a social order that was a cause of suffering and hardship for many of the people Jesus helped. In Galilee and the surrounding area Jesus exhibited the strength and authority of Yahweh who triumphs over the power of evil, just as in the exodus. However, the deliverance of assorted individuals in the first chapters of Mark is not definitive in that it was not efficacious for "the many". It is through his crucifixion in Jerusalem that God will deal decisively with the power of evil which lurks behind every confrontation in this Gospel. As the prologue indicated. Mark's narrative has been moving towards this final confrontation all along. It is on the cross, in the giving of himself in death, that the new exodus will be inaugurated and liberation for the many accomplished.

   That God's victorious reign, the coming of the kingdom of God (1:15), will be instituted through Jesus' death is corroborated by Jesus' interpretive remarks at the meal he eats with his disciples (14:12-25). What is striking about this passage is that while the setting is Passover, it is evident that it is not the Passover meal which is shared here.  Rather Jesus here expropriates the symbolism of the great Jewish feast day celebrating emancipation from Egypt in order to explicate the giving of his own life in death as a means of liberation for those who partake. The word which is translated as "betray" in 14:11, 18, 21 simply means to hand over, and in this context connotes the handing over of a victim. Instead of the Passover lamb, Jesus gives himself his "body" and "blood". The bread represents the giving of his body in death (14:22), which 10:45 has already identified as the supreme act of serving.  The cup symbolizes a new covenant to be ratified in the shedding of Jesus' blood (14:23-24). The phrase "blood of the covenant" alludes to Exodus 24:8 and hence evokes the whole story of Israel's journey from bondage to freedom. There may also be an echo of the portrayal of the servant in Isaiah 52:13-53:12. The "servant" of Isaiah's song is associated with the new exodus themes of covenant and the future reconstitution of God's people.  Isaiah 53 in particular is related to the new exodus motif of the movement of Israel from bondage (Is. 52) to a restored Jerusalem (Is. 54), and suggests that Jesus' death on Passover is seen as effecting the promised covenantal reconstitution of Israel associated with Isaiah's new exodus.

   There is, of course, no way to ascertain an audience's capacity to make the connections with the exodus and new exodus traditions, though they would likely be apparent to hearers who were steeped in Jewish the Scriptures and who were accustomed to celebrating Passover. The ritual implications of this passage will be further discussed in the next section. However, it is instructive to be alert at this juncture to the hearer's awareness that Mark's account of this Passover meal would remind them of their own table-fellowship at which they recalled the memory and meaning of Jesus death. Yet it is the future orientation of the meal that is emphasized in v.25. In forswearing the "fruit of the vine until that day" when he would "drink it anew in the kingdom of God", Jesus turns the feast into a fast (cf. 2:19-22). This means that the meal is not a "memorial" per se.  Rather it is a ritual celebration which bids the hearer to engage in the struggle for liberation from the powers of evil that began with Jesus' ministry and death but will only be fully realized in the future. More importantly, it is through this symbolic meal that the hearer is, along with the disciples, invited into solidarity with Jesus as he is arrested, tortured, and then executed. Just as partaking of the meal involved believers in the cause it represents, so on a narrative level the hearer is enjoined in this episode to participate in the unfolding drama.

   From the opening prologue the hearer has been listening to a story that has both promised and exhibited God's triumph over the power of evil through the Spirit endowed "Son". Yet there have been intimations throughout that the purpose of this Gospel is to cultivate disciples; faithful followers of Jesus who will continue his ministry of deliverance. On the surface of things it may appear that as Jesus' ministry is brought to an abrupt halt in Jerusalem, that the hearer may be inclined to become more passive even as Jesus himself becomes more passive in the passion narrative. But the narrative has been moving inexorably toward Jerusalem and Golgotha from the beginning, and it is in Mark's passion account that the hearer becomes even more deeply engaged. The dramatic details and rhetorical strategy in this portion of the narrative require the hearer to assess their own, commitment to Jesus and the "will of God" (3:35; cf. 8:33). Understanding this phenomenon is crucial for appreciating how the passion narrative continues to work to shape the convictions and practices of Jesus' followers by confronting them with the horror of the crucifixion. The graphic depiction of what happens to Jesus in Jerusalem might either paralyze the hearer with fear or spur the hearer into action. The most prominent response in the narrative itself is that of being debilitated by fear, but there are good reasons to consider this an intentional, if risky, rhetorical method for provoking agency on the part of the hearers.

   The meal which Jesus shared with his disciples was not only an occasion for Jesus to relate the meaning of what was about to happen to him; it also signified their solidarity with him as he is handed over to the authorities. Generally in the ancient world, eating together established a bond among those who partook. As has been noted, this scene would likely have evoked the early Christian practice of a common meal which was predicated upon this tradition of the "Lord's Supper", so the hearer's solidarity with Jesus through the passion is also at stake. The hearer discovers almost without delay that these disciples who eat with Jesus are the same ones who forsake him when he is pursued by the authorities (14:50, 67-68). However, their abdication works as a foil which encourages the listeners to gauge their own commitment to Jesus and the "things of God" (8:33). While the meal which disciples and hearers alike share binds them to Jesus as he begins his descent into abyss of injustice and violence, it is the "cup" in particular that links their fate with his.

   The third passion teaching is set within a request of James and John for Jesus to grant them "to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left in your glory" (10:37). Jesus informs them that they "do not know what they are asking", and then asks them a question to probe their eligibility for such an exalted role: "Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?" (10:38). Without hesitation James and John reply: "we are able". But just as their request for places of honor betrays their failure to grasp the alternative values and norms Jesus exemplifies by serving and giving his life as a ransom for many, so it is clear from their answer that they do not comprehend the significance of drinking the "cup" he drinks and sharing in the baptism which he undergoes. Their obtuseness notwithstanding, Jesus assures the brothers that the "cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized" (10:39). The "cup" and "baptism" both symbolize his impending suffering and death. At the meal Jesus further explains that the wine they drink from the cup is "my blood...poured out for many", which is a Semitic way of describing violent death (cf. Gen.4:10-11; 9:6; Deut. 19:10; 2 Kings 21:16; Ps. 106:38; Jer.7:6). For hearers who have themselves shared the Lord's Supper, the "cup" becomes a touchstone for their vicarious participation in his suffering and death as they listen to the passion narrative.

   More than a symbol through which the hearer identifies with Jesus as he becomes a victim of injustice and violence in the ensuing drama, the "cup" also elicits the pivotal matter of faithfulness to "God's will". The meal tradition in which Jesus offers the cup as a means of ritual engagement in his death for "the many" is followed by the episode in Gethsemane where he prays: "Abba, Father,... remove this cup from me; yet not what I want, but what you want" (14:36). In one respect, doing what God wants has been the theme of this Gospel throughout. At his baptism Jesus was endowed with the divine Spirit in order to bring about the new exodus whereby God's people would be delivered from the power of evil. This is precisely what happens during his ministry in Galilee and the surrounding area. Those who follow Jesus in this undertaking belong to a new family, or fictive kin group, whose entrance requirement and norm is summed up in 3:35: "whoever does the will of God".

   Jesus' achievement of God's purpose reaches a crisis point at Gethsemane, however, because it is there that he earnestly reckons with, though he has already foretold, the prospect of a violent death. The role of the disciples in this scene, who are admonished to "keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial" (14:38), suggests that this passage also appeals to the hearer to consider the implications of Jesus' acceptance of the "cup" for their own lives. Throughout the narrative "God's will" is consistently depicted as something that humans do.  In other words, "God's will" does not refer to a divine orchestration of historical events which dictates the destiny of Jesus and his followers. Rather "God's will" is what Jesus and his followers do when they act in away that serves God's purposes. In his Galilean ministry Jesus did this by exercising God's authority on behalf of those in need. However, his struggle in Gethsemane is whether to appeal to God to employ that same divine power to deliver him from execution. His prayer in 14:36 first acknowledges that God indeed has the power to "remove this cup", but in the second part of this brief prayer he reiterates the precept that has guided him up throughout:  "Not what I want, but what you want".

   What Jesus reconciles himself to here is not the conviction that God wants him to die, but rather that God's power is to be employed in the service of others and not for one's own ends. This prayer echoes the tutelage Jesus provided his disciples in the context of forecasting his own approaching death. He instructed them to put aside their own interests and honor in the service of others, just as the "Son of Man came not to be served but to serve" (10:43-45; cf. 9:35). Jesus' resolution of this internal conflict here in Gethsemane is paradigmatic for hearers who will inevitably face their own "time of trial" and know all to well that "the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak" (14:38). As with Jesus, they will have to endure whatever adversity and hardship they encounter without illusions that God will rescue them. As hearers follow Jesus through the trials, mocking, and crucifixion, they discover that the divine power that was so active in Jesus ministry is not available to deliver him, or them, from the abusive power which characterizes the socio-political order. This important truth, which is integral to the formation of faithful followers, is ironically affirmed in the taunts of the chief priests and scribes as Jesus hangs on the cross: "He saved others; he cannot save himself" (15:31). This derisive remark makes the very point that Jesus has taught all along, that God's power is efficacious only when used to benefit others.

   The divine power which was at work through Jesus in Galilee is conspicuously absent while Jesus is in Jerusalem because in the narrative Jerusalem is the stronghold of the religious authorities who have contested Jesus' ministry from the outset. When Jesus is handed over as a hostage to these a