Mark - Notes (2)

 “Jesus stretched out His hand and touched him.” Mark 1:41.

What might the first century reader have expected to read about the Son of God? Let’s remember that Caesar employed the term, “Son of God,” to refer to himself; let’s recall the radical nature of Mark’s first words, “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” 

What might we expect of a regal ruler, an all-powerful potentate? 

Who would we expect this ruler to associate with? How accessible would this person be? 

“And a leper came to Jesus, beseeching Him and falling on his knees before Him, and saying, If You are willing, You can make me clean. Moved with compassion, Jesus stretched out His hand and touched him, and said to him, I am willing; be cleansed. Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cleansed” (Mark 1:40 – 42). 

What would we have thought had we witnessed this?

While we might have been amazed at the healing of the leper, we may have also been amazed that Jesus touched him, for lepers were considered unclean and anyone who touched them was considered unclean. Touching lepers just wasn’t done, people kept their distance from lepers. We may have wondered why Jesus just didn’t speak a word of healing, why did Jesus touch the leper? 

What kind of a ruler touches lepers? Is this truly the Son of God?

In our own time rulers and political leaders stage photo opportunities with common people in order to portray certain images and gather support and votes. By and large these photo ops are deceitful for they don’t represent the real relationship these leaders have with the mass of people. Most leaders live lives distanced from the average person and they have no idea of the hopes and fears and struggles and challenges and desires of the people in the photos – they are using the people to their own advantage. 

But what of this Jesus, the Son of God? How shall we compare Him to the Caesars of the world?

We see that Jesus was “moved with compassion” for the leper, and that He stretched out His hand and touched Him. Jesus touched the untouched. The One who was, and is, altogether clean, touched the unclean. You and I can take encouragement in this, for to be sure without Jesus we are unclean, and to be sure He has compassion on us. To be sure, Jesus has stretched out both hands, both arms, for us on the Cross where the Clean took on Himself the unclean, and the Clean became unclean and the unclean became clean. 

“He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him” (2 Corinthians 5:21).

Will we touch the unclean on behalf of Jesus?

Who else does the true Son of God associate with? Certainly He seeks and commands the acquaintance of the rich and powerful, of those who will provide Him with support and honor and accolades and power. He will no doubt choose those with political, military, economic, and religious power and authority.

But wait, who are these four men He is choosing to follow Him? Are they not fishermen? (Mark 1:16 – 20). Where are their pedigrees? Their academic degrees? Their bank accounts? Their political capital? Their following in the synagogue and religious hierarchy? 

And then, shame upon shame, the fifth one Jesus calls is a tax collector, of one of the most despicable classes in all Judea and Galilee! (Mark 2:14). Jesus obviously does not know how to curry favor with the people or the powerful. 

As we look inside Peter’s home (Mark 1:29 – 31), we see them telling Jesus  about Peter’s sick mother-in-law. Why bother a Rabbi about a woman? But wait, what is Jesus doing? He is going into the woman’s room – O no! He is touching her, raising her up and taking her by the hand. Doesn’t He know that such things are not done? That women have no worth? What kind of ruler and leader is this? 

Then we have the problem of Jesus casting out demons in synagogues on the Sabbath (Mark 1:21–27; 39). This is problematic for two reasons, the first is that it is on the Sabbath and the second it that it is in synagogues. After all, if Israel is supposed to be a holy people, how could there be demons in the synagogue? If the rabbis and scribes and Pharisees are so close to God, how could they not discern demons and save people from them? If the teaching of the rabbis was truly that of Moses and the Prophets, how could demons tolerate it? 

The people noted that Jesus teaches with authority, and not as the scribes (Mark 1:27; Matthew 7:28–29).

In Mark 2:15-17 we see Jesus having a meal with tax collectors and sinners, for there were many following Him; note that Jesus’ disciples were with Him. Would we expect Caesar to associate with such people? Would we anticipate our world leaders today to associate with such commoners? 

Jesus, the Son of God, begins His ministry by being with people; by loving and caring for the unclean and disenfranchised, by touching them, by receiving them, by seeking them, by embracing them, by healing them. This is the way of life of Jesus Christ the Son of God. His way of life does not change, He does not change.

It is likely that when many first century readers first read the words, “Jesus Christ, the Son of God,” that they had no idea of what would follow, for they would have associated the title “Son of God” with Caesar or another ancient ruler, persons who ruled by worldly might and military and economic power. 

The religious leaders in Judea and Galilee made the mistake of associating the Messiah on the plane of worldly power, as did the masses. They anticipated a Messiah greater than Caesar on the same earthly plane as Caesar, but with greater power and might than Caesar. 

Do we make same mistake today when we align the Gospel with national agendas, political ideologies, economic systems, sociological dynamics, and worldviews (including those labeled “Christian”)? Are we not to worship and hear Jesus, and Jesus alone? (Mark 9:7; 1 Corinthians 1:30–2:2).

Toward the conclusion of His public ministry Jesus says that, in contrast to the rulers of the world, “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve and to give His life as a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:28). 

The disciples were with Jesus as He enjoyed eating with tax collectors and sinners. Is this still the case? Is this our way of life? Are we serving the invisible, those people who those in power do not see, those who have no political or economic power? Are we, as Jesus Christ, touching the untouchable and loving the unlovable? 

The unfolding image of Jesus Christ in the Gospel runs counter to likely first century expectations of the appellation “the Son of God” in Mark 1:1. 

As Jesus stretches out His arms and hands to touch us, let us give ourselves to touch others. 

Mark - Notes

 

Mark 1:1

“The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”

This was written to people living in an Empire in which the Caesar proclaimed himself to be the Son of God. It was a radical statement, and while it proclaimed Jesus Christ, in doing so it challenged the prevailing political and cultural ethos of its time. 

Over the course of history rulers have proclaimed themselves to be the sons of God, the embodiment of God, both by direct proclamation and by their actions and attitudes and the powers they assumed to themselves. 

To such rulers, and to people seduced by these rulers, Mark’s first statement can be a shocking challenge. Let’s not forget that the early Christians were persecuted for being atheists (they did not worship the gods, and you could not see the God they did claim to worship) and for not worshipping Caesar. 

Had the early Church also worshipped Caesar they would likely not have been persecuted, at least to some of the extremes that occurred. 

But how do Christians today read Mark’s opening statement? 

Do we read it thinking, “Of course Jesus is the Son of God,” without a sense of worship and discipleship? Is this just something we’ve heard in Sunday school and church, something we’ve grown up with? 

Is this a statement of fact, a piece of information, that has no effect on our affections, our decisions, our daily lives? Do we take it for granted the way we take for granted that Washington and Lincoln and Edison and Babe Ruth once lived? That “Son of God” is a title we assign to Jesus but that it has no direct relevance to our lives?

This is an exclusive statement; Jesus is the Son of God. Do we read this in an exclusive manner? 

In other words, when we read it do we also think, “Well, Ceasar is also the Son of God”? 

Now you may say, “Bob, Ceasar is long dead.”

Thank you for reminding me of that. Let’s put this another way:

Do we think, “My political leader is also [functionally] Son of God. My political, economic, social, national, agendas are Son of God”? 

Let us not be so foolish as to not see that political leaders across the globe, from all spectrums, certainly speak and act as if they are indeed gods, and that includes the expectation that we will functionally worship them and give ourselves to them. The same is true in economics, sports, entertainment…even within Christianity and other religions. Within Christianity, how many “leaders” point to themselves rather than to Jesus? How many institutions seek their own self-preservation and power rather than serving Jesus and people? 

Are we living in a syncretism that blends (what we take to be) Christianity into our political and national and economic and social culture to the point where Jesus Christ is no longer our exclusive Lord and God, where He is no longer the focus of our love and worship and commitment? Have we molded Jesus Christ into our image, our national image, our cultural image, so that Mark’s opening words have become mundane rather than soul challenging? 

“The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God,” let’s recall that “gospel” means Good News. The fact that Jesus is the Son of God is Good News, it means that we have a God, a Savior, a Redeemer, who loves us and who has come to restore the image of God within us, drawing us into deep familial friendship with Himself. It means that we need no longer be slaves to the economic, political, national, tribal, religious, and other elements of this world, that we no longer need serve our own foolish lusts and greed and pride and egos – nor those of others. 

Imagine a Ruler who is kind and just and good and holy and righteous and who can always be trusted. (Isaiah 9:6–7; 11:1–10).

Mark’s opening words were radical when he wrote them, and they ought to be radical now. 

Are they radical in my life? 

Are they apparent? Can others see their effect in me?

In our congregations?

In your life?