Monthly Archives: January 2010
The King appears (Mark 1:14–15)
I just checked to make sure, and it turns out that there has never been a President from West Virginia. By saying that, I probably didn’t shock anyone. West Virginia is one of the states in the Union that has a reputation—deserving or not—for being a backwater region. If it’s political power you’re looking for, you travel to Washington, D.C.; if it’s economic success, you go to New York City; if it’s cultural clout, you make your way to Hollywood. You don’t go to West Virginia.
Not unless you’re trying to pull a Jesus.
Jesus doesn’t begin his earthly ministry in an advantageous place. “Now after John was arrested,” Mark relates, “Jesus came into Galilee, proclaiming the gospel of God” (1:14). Galilee was sort of the West Virginia of Jesus’ day. If you were a Jew, and you wanted to make something of yourself, you didn’t go to Galilee; you went to Jerusalem. To the Jews, Jerusalem was New York City, Hollywood, and Washington, D.C. all rolled up into one. It was the political, cultural, economic, and religious capital of Judea. That’s where people would have been looking for a Messiah—not in Galilee. (Though they should have been.)
So, right from the outset, we see that Jesus is rather unconventional. He’s not what the Jews are looking for in a divinely anointed king. In fact, he’s not what anyone is looking for in a king. It’s horribly disconcerting when our expectations are set on a Savior whose first public move is to reject those expectations. Jesus is an unconventional man with an unconventional message, summarized by these words: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel” (v 15).
Just like John, Jesus calls everyone to repent—to reject the old way of thinking and living and to accept the new kingdom that is about to break into the world. When he says, “The time is fulfilled,” he’s declaring that his arrival is the fulfillment of history. All of human history has been building to this point; it all has meaning, and that meaning is found in Jesus. Each and every event, no matter how small, has driven the world toward the arrival of this man. Century by century and minute by minute, his appearance has been orchestrated by the Lord of history. Yes, every moment of our lives is infused with careful intent by our Creator, as we wait for the full glory of his kingdom to appear. Even now, everything finds its purpose in Jesus (Romans 11:36).
Jesus declares that a paradigm shift is about to take place, and the world will never be the same; God’s kingdom has drawn near. But what is this kingdom? Who is its king? Certainly, the Jews of Jesus’ day have expectations that the Messiah would drive out the Roman empire and set up a new Jewish kingdom, following in the footsteps of David his ancestor. Perhaps the unconventional arrival of this Galilean preacher is the first clue that God may have different plans. The Jews are right in believing that the Messiah will be their king, but how can this man be their king? Is this how God has chosen to intervene when his people are suffering? Jesus seems to think so—he believes that his appearance has brought God’s new kingdom near. The whole world order is about to be turned upside down; the old kingdom is about to wither away. Things are about to change—fast—and Jesus presents his audience with a choice. Either keep living like you’ve always lived, or change your life immediately in response to this new reality! Jesus isn’t concerned whether his gospel is relevant to his listeners; he pleads for his listeners to be relevant to his gospel.
This question of relevance is one you will have to face today. God’s kingdom has not fully arrived yet, but his triumph is inevitable. For far too long, we have focused ourselves on understanding and manipulating and growing comfortable in the way our society works. We have looked for success as defined by American values and ideals; we have placed our hope in our self-invented dreams and ambitions; we have knotted ourselves into the fabric of the American culture. But all of this will be swept away when the new kingdom is fully and finally established. This is bad news for those who cling to the old kingdom, and the greatest news possible for those who have let it go. All of history is bent toward its King, and when he appears, he will sweep away every illusion of control that we cling to. Jesus is not conventional, and he loves his people too much to befriend their conventional ambitions.
Mightier than I (Mark 1:2–13)
It’s been a cold winter here in Indiana. After last winter, in which the windchill dropped to around –30° F at times, I figured we were due for something a little warmer this time around. It’s true that November and December were unseasonably warm, and it’s true that temperatures have not dropped as low as last winter. However, early this January, the weather stayed cold for long periods of time with no respite. I’m just grateful for a warm house to come home to every day.
It’s times like this that I’m glad I don’t live in the wilderness. That word—wilderness—implies a harsh environment barely able to sustain human life. A winter like this makes everything a wilderness. The other way to make a wilderness is to cover a land with rocks, sand, and scorching heat. Take away any water, and you’ve got yourself the kind of place where no one would want to live. The only people found there are nomads and outcasts. Those who are rich and powerful stay away from the wilderness.
So what’s Jesus doing there?
Unlike Matthew and Luke, Mark doesn’t begin his story with the birth of Christ. He has another way of telling the humble beginnings of Jesus. Mark’s “Christmas story” begins in the Judean wilderness—a wasteland of hills, hot sun, dust, and precious little water. It’s not a coincidence that Jesus shows up here; his coming was prophesied in the Old Testament by Isaiah and by Malachi. In verses 2–3, Mark quotes Malachi 3:1 and Isaiah 40:3, which together reveal that a messenger will herald the Messiah’s coming. This messenger will call for a highway to be carved into the impassable hills—a highway broad, flat, and straight, fit for a King. This King will make his entrance into the world through the wilderness. Who is this King? Well, in a clever little trick, Mark adjusts and clarifies Malachi’s prophecy. Malachi quoted God as saying, “I send my messenger and he will prepare the way before me.” In Mark, we read him to say, “I send my messenger before your face.” So is the messenger preparing the way for “me”—for God? Or is he preparing the way for “you”—for Jesus? Or could it be…?
With a sly smile, Mark moves on with his story.
In the wilderness, a place where the powerless live, the messenger John explains that this “highway” is really the repentance of God’s people, signified by baptism. If they repent—if they change their attitude and their behavior—they will be forgiven for their sins. But that is not all. John, dressed like a prophet, announces that this forgiveness is only the beginning. “After me,” he declares, “comes he who is mightier than I.” This mightier man will immerse his people in the Holy Spirit. He will soften their hearts and empower them to follow the Lord faithfully (Ezekiel 36:26–27).
Mark doesn’t leave us waiting. The mightier man comes from Nazareth in Galilee to be baptized. Now, everyone else who had been baptized would confess their sins and repent. Not Jesus. When he comes up from the water, heaven is opened, and the Spirit descends on him “like a dove” (verse 10). Then comes a voice from heaven: “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.”
Imagine, for a moment, if this had not happened. If Jesus’ baptism had gone the way all of John’s other baptisms had gone, people would assume that he was just like everyone else. He would be seen as a fellow sinner looking for a Messiah. But when God speaks from heaven, he identifies him as his special Son, as someone he dearly loves, as someone who has pleased him in every way. Mark doesn’t say it outright, but he once again hints to us, “This man is not looking for the Messiah. He is the Messiah.” Unlike any other man, Jesus is fully pleasing to God; he has not earned God’s wrath for sin.
The greatest outpouring of God’s wrath in the Old Testament was the great Flood of Noah (Genesis 6–8). The heavens were opened, and the whole world was immersed in waters of judgment. At the end of the Flood, Noah sent out a dove three times to see if there was any dry land left. The third time he did this, the dove did not return. The water had subsided, and Noah knew that God’s wrath had come to an end. Here in Mark’s story, Jesus is immersed in water, but he is not condemned. When the heavens open, there is no wrath. The Spirit descends on him in the form of a dove, and God announces that he is fully pleased with this man. In Jesus, and only in Jesus, there is peace with God.
The Holy Spirit descends on Jesus and drives him again into the wilderness. With Jesus, the mightier one, everything takes place on a colossal scale. Almost in passing, Mark mentions that he stays in the wilderness 40 days, is tempted by Satan, that he lives among wild animals, and that he is served by angels. No big deal. Just another event in the life of Jesus. The Spirit drives him to do great things, until even the great things can only be mentioned briefly.
This sort of understated power and authority is so characteristic of Jesus in Mark’s gospel. And it comes with a promise. The last words that John speaks in this gospel are these: “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” Jesus is so mighty that he has authority over the Holy Spirit. He can change people’s hearts; he can take cynical, calloused, bitter people and make them trust him, love him, and worship him. He can take fearful people and make them into heroes of the faith, able to stand against Satan and wild animals, heroes to whom angels minister.
Yes, he can change you.
The unknown Jesus (Mark 1:1)
Out of all the Star Wars movies, my favorite is definitely The Empire Strikes Back. It’s a more mature movie than any of the others, containing a depth of story and characters that is rarely found in the series. And, of course, there’s the surprise ending. It came as a total shock to moviegoers in 1980 to discover that Darth Vader was Luke Skywalker’s father. However, this wasn’t a surprise to me when I first watched the movie. First, it’s become such common knowledge in the last 30 years; it’s almost impossible not to know it already before you watch the movie. Second, I saw Return of the Jedi first. So that kind of spoiled it, too.
If you want to begin a great story with an element of mystery, it’s generally a good idea to keep the plot under wraps. If The Empire Strikes Back had identified Darth Vader as Luke’s father in the opening crawl, it would have ruined everything. With this in mind, let’s take a closer look at the very first verse of the gospel according to Mark:
The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
—Mark 1:1
Well, plotwise, that’s something of a letdown. In Mark’s story, Jesus’ disciples don’t identify him as the Christ—the Messiah king that God promised to his people—until halfway through the book (8:29). He is not publicly recognized as the Son of God until he is crucified (15:39). The whole story revolves around two questions: “who is this man?” and “what has he come to do?” The second question is answered by chapters 9 through 16; the first question is taken up in chapters 1 through 8. Yet Mark has given away the answer to the first question before the story even begins! If he were a screenwriter, he’d be fired.
So, let’s stop and consider this. Why would an author reveal the plot of his story before the story even gets started? Usually, it’s because the author understands that his audience already knows the story. The first verse of Mark gives us an important key to interpreting the book. The key is this: Mark wrote his story for Christians.
Isn’t that a bit odd? We would expect the gospels to be geared toward people who have never heard of Jesus and want to learn more about him. Now, it’s true that they are accessible to people who are encountering Jesus for the first time. However, this book was mainly written for people who have already heard about Jesus and have already chosen to believe in Jesus. It was written for people who already know the story.
So what’s the point of writing about a guy whom we already know? Again, there’s only one reason to write about a person with whom the readers are familiar. Mark would only be writing about Jesus if he believed that we, the readers, have an inadequate understanding of who he is and what he came to do. In other words, by writing this book, Mark is telling you, “Jesus is not who you think he is!”
Like his disciples, you and I are invited into a story where we encounter Jesus in all his threatening mystery. This is a Jesus whom we never knew growing up. It’s not flannelgraph Jesus. It’s not Veggie Tales Jesus. It’s not hippie Jesus. This is a Jesus who pushes the boundaries of our sensibilities, who is not afraid to offend us, who is not afraid to confront us because we haven’t learned to trust him. This is a Jesus who will stop at nothing less than total ownership of our lives. This is a Jesus who is not afraid to love us with a love unknown.
This unknown Jesus is the One whom we meet on the pages of Mark’s gospel. My hope as we travel through this story together is that we will see him with new eyes. May these familiar stories take on the unfamiliar air of another world. Let’s meet the real Jesus.
New feature: Four Minutes in Mark
One of the downsides of having a blog is that you actually have to update it regularly if you don’t want to look like a major slacker. I haven’t been very good about this, so I have worn the “slacker” label with shame for quite some time now. What I’d like to do is turn this “disadvantage” of owning a blog into an an advantage. As I prepare to become a pastor, I know that I will need to get used to producing quality teaching material on a weekly basis. A great way to prepare for that is by doing it on my blog.
So here’s the idea: on Monday, I’m going to begin a blog series entitled “Four Minutes in Mark.” The gimmick is that I’m going to work my way through the gospel of Mark, writing articles that should take the average person four minutes to read. I saw somewhere that the average reading spead is 200–250 words per minute, so that comes out to around 800–1000 words per article. Of course, I don’t feel at all tied down to these numbers, but they do give a ballpark figure.
My goal is not only to get used to producing content and sharpening my writing skills, but also to let the Word of God edify me as well. One of the best ways to study God’s Word is to study it as though you were going to teach it. Observe, interpret, and apply—but apply to your own life.
We’ll get started on Monday with Mark 1:1. I’m looking forward to it! I even made a kind of boring logo:
