
By Charles R Erdman
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SECTION II. The Ministry in Eastern Galilee. Chs. 1:14 to 7:23 A. THE FIRST PERIOD. Chs. 1:14 to 3:12 1. The Beginning of the Ministry. Ch. 1:14, 15
Mark is distinctively the Gospel of the public ministry of our Lord. The writer is less concerned than Matthew to prove that Jesus is the Messiah who exactly fulfills the prophecies of the Old Testament; he omits many details needed by Luke to complete his portrait of the ideal Man; he does not seek to demonstrate, with the convincing proofs of John, the deity of Christ; but he gives a complete story of the public life of Jesus. To secure clearness and distinctness of impression, many events are omitted, and some are related with extreme brevity; but those recorded produce a connected narrative which moves on through successive chapters to the last great climax. The definiteness of aim appears in the grouping of the incidents in two great divisions, the first of which records the ministry of Jesus in Galilee, the second the events of Passion Week. These two are united by a brief account of the journeys through Perea, from Galilee to Jerusalem. They are prefaced by a concise mention of the preaching of John and of the baptism and temptation of Jesus; they are followed by a simple announcement of the resurrection and appearances of Jesus; and together they form, not merely a complete and ordered story, but a Gospel, which moves toward its culmination in the atoning death of our Lord, and traces through its successive scenes the saving work of him who came "to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many." The progress of events is marked further by the clear division of this Galilæan ministry into the portion which relates to northern and central Galilee, and the following portion which relates to northern Galilee and the borders of the neighboring Gentile countries. Even this first portion of the ministry falls into three distinct periods; one begins with the call of the first disciples and narrates the immediate popularity of Jesus and the contrasted opposition of the rulers; the second opens with the appointment of the twelve apostles and ends with the rejection of Jesus at Nazareth; the third begins with the mission of the Twelve and ends with the withdrawal of Jesus to the borders of Tyre and Sidon. The plan and method of Mark are indicated by the very phrase of time and place by which he announces the beginning of the ministry of Jesus: "Now after John was delivered up, Jesus came into Galilee." The many events which occurred in Judea, after the temptation of Jesus and before the imprisonment of John, are passed in silence. Mark is to be concerned with the Galilæan ministry of Jesus; he therefore omits all mention of the preceding incidents, which are recorded in the Gospel of John, including the visit to Jerusalem, the cleansing of the Temple, and the conversation with Nicodemus. He mentions only the event which made it necessary for Jesus to withdraw into Galilee. However, he does not state this necessity. The other Gospels intimate that because of the crisis produced by the arrest of John, and because of the jealous hatred of the rulers, Jesus left Judea. Mark merely suggests that, when the work of John had been ended, the ministry of Jesus began. It is only from the subsequent parts of the story that we learn the relation between the events. The previous mention of John, which Mark has made, found him, in the full tide of his astonishing popularity, heralding the coming of Jesus; therefore when the ministry of John was interrupted by his being "delivered up" to prison, the public ministry of Jesus must begin. The place of this ministry is Galilee; and it is to Galilee that our thoughts are to be confined until Jesus leaves for his last journey to Jerusalem. This beautiful land of mountain and meadow and forest and lake was the most northern of the three provinces into which Palestine was divided. It was our Lord's "own country," but was probably selected because of its distance from Jerusalem, where hostility to Jesus had already been revealed and where his continued ministry would have been impossible. The nature of this ministry was that of preaching. It is noticeable that in this narrative, Jesus appears, and presents himself to the nation, not first of all as a worker of miracles, but as the Bearer of a message. This is a divine message for it is called "the gospel of God," by which is meant "the good news which God had sent." The substance of this glad tidings was the near approach of "the kingdom of God." By this last phrase was meant the "rule of God" upon earth, that Kingdom of which the prophets had spoken, that condition of universal peace and blessedness which has not yet appeared in its perfection, but for which we look when we pray: "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven." This Kingdom is called by Matthew "the kingdom of heaven" because it is heavenly in its origin and character. Its essential features are "righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit." It is also called "the kingdom of Christ," for in it his rule is supreme, and it can never be realized on earth until he is recognized as universal King. Therefore, in announcing the coming of this Kingdom, Jesus sounded a clear call to repentance and faith: "Repent ye, and believe in the gospel." The demand for repentance had already been made by John; in the preaching of Jesus a new element is to be emphasized, namely, belief. In this early preaching the belief consists in accepting the "good news" of the advent of the Kingdom. The "glad tidings" soon receives an enlarged content, and the belief comes to center upon Him who is preaching the joyful message. The very essence of the Gospel becomes embodied in the promise of a place in the Kingdom for all who will repent of sin and believe in Christ. 2. The Call of the First Disciples. Ch. 1:16-20
Jesus began his public ministry by proclaiming the "good news" that the Kingdom of God was at hand. This "gospel" was to be more and more definitely concerned with the person and work of Jesus. His earthly career was to be brief, and it was his purpose to have the gospel preached in all the world and to every creature. Therefore it was absolutely necessary that he should attach to himself a band of disciples whom he could teach and train to be his witnesses and messengers. Accordingly, at the very opening of his ministry, he invites four men to be his personal companions and attendants. The scene of this call is declared to be "by the sea of Galilee." On the shores of this lovely inland lake most of the teaching of Jesus was given, most of his miracles were performed. This charming sheet of water, only twelve miles long and six miles wide, is so closely associated with his public ministry, and so suggestive of its events, that it has been called a "fifth Gospel." On its western and northern side were the cities in which most of the mighty works were done; the eastern side was not inhabited, and thither Jesus would resort to escape the multitudes. As Jesus is walking by the shore of the lake near to Capernaum he sees Andrew and Simon Peter "casting a net in the sea; for they were fishers. And Jesus said unto them, Come ye after me, and I will make you to become fishers of men. And straightway they left the nets, and followed him." We are not to conclude that the call was as abrupt as might seem. These men were not strangers to Jesus. They had been disciples of John, and by him had been pointed to Jesus as the Lamb of God and the Son of God. They had subsequently come to know Jesus and to trust him; but now they are called to leave their usual occupation and to become his followers and disciples. This is true of James and John who are called by Jesus at this same time. They, too, seem to have been disciples of John the Baptist, to have met Jesus also in Judea, to have journeyed with him to Galilee, and subsequently to have returned to their task as fishermen. When now summoned to public discipleship, we read, "they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired servants, and went after him." The call of these four disciples differs materially from the experience of men who are summoned to-day into the active service of Christ; and yet there are obvious points of comparison which are as significant as they may be familiar. First of all, the invitation is not usually, if occasionally, abrupt and startling. Commonly there is given a period of preparation, or the words of some public teacher, or the influence of parents or friends. However, there does come a time when a definite decision must be made, usually in response to a specific appeal, however that appeal may be voiced. Second, the invitation includes the same inspiring promise: "I will make you to become fishers of men." Every follower of Christ, who confesses his faith and lives consistently, has the privilege of bringing other men into fellowship with Christ and into a saving relation to him. Third, this call involves sacrifice and separation. We are not to suppose that these were men of even moderate wealth, yet they were compelled to abandon whatever they possessed, at least to suspend their usual tasks; and James and John were asked to leave behind them their father, Zebedee. Christian discipleship does not always demand exactly the same kind of sacrifice, although at times it does; nor need such separation always occur. There is, however, the need for the same prompt obedience and the willingness to do what the Master bids, at any cost. Possibly the most impressive lesson of the story is found in that one word, "straightway." When they were called, aware as they were of the sacrifice, but convinced of the splendor of the task assigned, "straightway they left the nets, and followed him." Last of all, we should consider the issue and the reward. Who can measure the subsequent influence of those four men? Was it better for them to remain obscure fishermen of Galilee, or to be numbered among the immortal apostles of Christ? 3. The Cure of the Demoniac in Capernaum. Ch. 1:21-28
The main purpose of our Lord, in his public ministry, was to bring a divine message and to perform a saving work; his miracles, however important, were incidental. Thus the story of his ministry begins with the statement that he "came into Galilee, preaching"; and, on the first public appearance to which Mark refers, surprise is awakened at his teaching. On this same occasion, however, a startling miracle is performed; but it is made evident that Jesus desires men to receive his message and to trust in him, and not to regard him as a mere worker of wonders. This appearance is said to be in Capernaum, the place which, instead of Nazareth, is now to be his home. It is on "the sabbath," and in the careful and unfailing observance of this day, Jesus is still an example to his followers and to the world. He was in "the synagogue," the building in which the Jews were accustomed to meet for prayer and the reading and exposition of the Scriptures. It was there, and evidently on the first Sabbath after his arrival in Capernaum, that Jesus found an opportunity to teach. The impression he produced was immediate and profound: "And they were astonished at his teaching: for he taught them as having authority, and not as the scribes." It was not simply the substance of his message but still more his manner which occasioned surprise. In contrast with the scribes he spoke "as having authority." They were not lacking in assurance and self-confidence; they were unquestionably dogmatic and intolerant; but they always spoke with borrowed authority. They were the professional students and interpreters of the Old Testament, but they only repeated what other men had said; they simply quoted "authorities." Jesus spoke with the power of personal conviction, he sounded the note of absolute certitude, his authority was that of divine insight.' This difference in tone and power the hearers at once perceived; and measurably the same distinction between teachers can be recognized to-day. There is a loud and dogmatic assertion of borrowed truths and traditional beliefs, which fails to impress; while a quiet, modest statement of actual experience, of spiritual conviction and of personal vision, arrests and convicts. While the teaching of Jesus was of first importance, his miracles were of tremendous value in attesting his mission and inspiring faith in his message. Upon these miracles Mark lays great stress, and his record of them produces upon the reader a deep impression of the divine power of the Son of God whose ministry Mark is narrating. There is something specially significant in the fact that the one first recorded reveals superhuman forces of evil, by which men are oppressed, but which are powerless in the presence of Christ. Miracles of the same nature are specially prominent in the Gospel of Mark; and the mention of this particular miracle, as the story opens, serves to illustrate the strength of the opposition to Christ, the need of his work, and his invincible power to save. The miracle was performed in the synagogue where Jesus had been teaching; in fact it seems to have been occasioned by an interruption to the teaching, for we read: "And straightway there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit; and he cried out, saying. What have we to do with thee, Jesus thou Nazarene? art thou come to destroy us? I know thee who thou art, the Holy One of God." The man was literally "in an unclean spirit"; that is, he was completely surrounded and dominated by the power of this spirit. He was not suffering from merely a physical or mental disease; he was actually possessed by a demon; otherwise Jesus would seem to have played a part falsely theatrical and deceiving; for he rebuked the spirit, "saying, Hold thy peace, and come out of him." Whatever the exact condition of the man may have been, it is for us vividly symbolic of the power of a besetting sin. Envy, or lust, or greed, or deceit, or doubt, becomes demonic in its tyranny over a human soul. One so possessed seems to have a dual personality; he actually wonders at what he himself says and does; he feels unable to avoid the very things he chooses and wills; his only hope is in a power outside himself; and Jesus the Teacher who rebukes the sin is near; he is also Jesus the Saviour from sin. The very man who has come to Jesus with an evident desire for relief, cries out against him in hatred and dread. It is the demon within him, who, before the Lord ^addresses him, expresses that antagonism between good and evil which makes a sinful soul shrink from the presence of Christ; for he is heard to cry, "What have we to do with thee, Jesus thou Nazarene?" The next utterance illustrates that fear of punishment which ever accompanies conscious guilt, "Art thou come to destroy us?" The last words contain a startling admission as to the divine person and work of Christ: "I know thee who thou art, the Holy One of God." Surely faith is something quite different from knowledge and belief and confession; "the demons also believe, and shudder." Testimony from such an unclean source, however, is not pleasing to Christ. He at once rebukes the demon by a word as picturesque as severe: "Be muzzled," he cries, as though he were addressing a wild beast; and then he speaks the word of divine command: ''Come out of him." In spite of the expressions of the demon, the Lord has discerned the longing of a human soul, and he has responded with immediate relief. No demon, however, is dispossessed without a struggle and the infliction of pain; "and the unclean spirit, tearing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him." The effect of the miracle upon the congregation in the synagogue was to create an amazement which, according to the expression of Mark, deepened into reverence and awe; and yet the teaching which had preceded the miracle was not forgotten. Each made the other more impressive. The manner of his teaching was a cause for surprise, but his power to command evil spirits, and their immediate obedience, was a second cause, as is expressed by the excited exclamations: "What is this? a new teaching! with authority he commandeth even the unclean spirits, and they obey him." The words and the works of Jesus are never to be separated. What he taught and claimed is to be viewed in the light of what he *vas and did. Together they produce the impression that Jesus was not merely a human prophet, or a performer of miracles, but the divine, wonder-working Son of God. It is not strange that the report of this first appearance in the synagogue at Capernaum "went out straightway everywhere into all the region of Galilee round about," and that the crowds, of which Mark continually speaks, were henceforth thronging the Master wherever he might go. 4. The Healing of Peter's Wife's Mother. Ch. 1:29-31
As Jesus accompanied Peter and Andrew to their home, at the close of the service on that first memorable Sabbath of his public ministry, he found that one in the family circle was in special need of his sympathy and help. The mother-in-law of Peter, as the graphic words of Mark declare, "lay prostrate," "burning with fever." Even among the close followers of Christ there are heavy hearts to be relieved and there are fevered spirits to be healed. If the demoniac pictures the fierce tyranny of passion, possibly this restless sufferer in the house of Peter may symbolize the distress of anxiety, of worry, of fear, of longing, of temper, or of haste. Whether in the crowded synagogue or in the quiet of the home, Jesus is ready and able to heal. Of course it was not the first purpose of our Lord to teach this lesson. It was his sympathy, his compassion, his love, which moved him as "he came and took her by the hand, and raised her up." The touch of his hand, in the act of healing, is more than once recorded by Mark. It adds vividness to the picture, and it contains for us a message of the tenderness, the sympathy, the nearness, of Christ. It was moreover a touch of power; he "raised her up; and the fever left her, and she ministered unto them." The cure was therefore instantaneous and complete. The touch had communicated strength; it had evidently awakened or developed faith in the sufferer; surely the healing it brought aroused gratitude and love. "She ministered unto them"; and many homes are waiting to-day for the more patient, humble, faithful ministry of those whose restless, fevered spirits have been given quiet and healing by the Lord. 5. The Ministry at Sunset. Ch. 1:32-34
It is a striking and impressive scene which Mark has sketched. The long day of service has drawn to its close, but its hours have sufficed to spread throughout Capernaum the report of the marvelous miracle wrought by Jesus in the synagogue; and now, in the cool of the evening, the crowds gather about the house where another sufferer has been relieved. Possibly they have waited until, according to the Jewish Law, the sinking sun has marked the end of the Sabbath, so that now they feel free to undertake the "work" of bringing to the Master, for his healing touch, "all that were sick, and them that were possessed with demons. And all the city was gathered together at the door." Matthew tells us that "he healed them all"; Mark states that the cures were many in number, and he specifies that Jesus "cast out many demons." The news of the miracle wrought early in the day naturally resulted in bringing to Jesus many of these poor victims who were under the power of unclean spirits; but, as in the case of the first demoniacs, Jesus would not allow them to confess their superhuman knowledge of him; he could not accept testimony from such a source. He rebuked the demons, he delivered the victims from their power; he healed the countless number of the sick. It is a picture which to the minds of many is being reproduced to-day. Amid the shadows and the mysteries of suffering and pain, the Saviour is standing; about him are gathered those whom sin has stricken with its diseases, the sad, the loveless, the lonely, the troubled, the tempted, the hopeless, the lost; his touch "has still its ancient power"; in his mercy he is healing them all, and in joy they are going away. Are there none in the city whom we can bring? Are there none who are waiting for our invitation or our help that they may reach the Master and feel the power of his healing touch? 6. The First Retirement from Capernaum. Ch. 1:35-39
Nothing could illustrate better the rapid movement and active energy which characterize the Gospel of Mark than to look bank over the contents of this first chapter, which, within the compass of a few verses, has recorded a succession of events almost bewildering in number, including the preaching of John, the baptism and temptation of Jesus, the call of the disciples, and the incidents of the busy Sabbath in Capernaum. It only heightens the contrast as we find Jesus now stealing away from the crowds to be alone, and later, after a preaching tour in Galilee, withdrawing to the solitudes of desert places. Yet these periods of retirement are as truly characteristic of the Gospel as are the scenes of breathless activity and restless toil. In fact, certain writers have used these definitely recorded withdrawals from public service, some ten in number, as marks by which to divide into separate periods the ministry of our Lord. The purpose of this first withdrawal is clearly stated: it was to secure an opportunity for being alone in prayer. This necessitated rising at a very early hour, and leaving the city. "And in the morning, a great while before day, he rose up and went out, and departed into a desert place, and there prayed." Very searching are the lessons which this brief incident brings to the hearts of his modern disciples. He needed to pray; he who, on the day before, had shown his power over demons and disease; he who had surprised men even more by the riches and authority of his teaching; he, at whose power the whole city was wondering — he "went out . . . and . . . prayed." How immeasurably great must be our need of prayer ! It may be our task to teach, it is our privilege to offer to other lives healing ministries of love; but if the Master needed to seek power and aid in prayer, how much more must we seek strength by the same unfailing means. However, a habit of prayer demands an appointed time and an appropriate place. "In the morning, a great while before day, he rose up and . . . prayed." The morning hour is the best time. He must have been exhausted by the ceaseless activity of the preceding day; but to him prayer was such an indispensable necessity that he rose before another day had dawned, that he might be refreshed in prayer. So, too, he showed the necessity of a place where he could be absolutely alone. "He . . . went out, and departed into a desert place." It is possible to pray in the town and amid the city crowds; but solitude is helpful, and "desert" places must be found. It is not always possible to leave the city, but one can usually obey the command of the Lord: "Enter into thine inner chamber, and having shut thy door, pray to thy Father who is in secret." Our Lord, however, even in places of solitude, was never safe from intruders, nor was he long free from interruption. "And Simon and they that were with him followed after him; and they found him, and say unto him. All are seeking thee." Jesus never showed or felt the slightest irritation at such interruptions. He always met the intruders with gentleness and love. On this occasion he did not request more time for prayer; his early rising had anticipated the demands which would be made upon him; but he took occasion to explain to his disciples the further reason for his withdrawal from Capernaum: "And he saith unto them, Let us go elsewhere into the next towns, that I may preach there also; for to this end came I forth." Here again he gave a message to his disciples in all the coming years. Jesus was reaching out to the regions beyond. He knew he was popular in Capernaum. The whole city had gathered about him in the evening of that previous Sabbath Day. This would have been reason enough, in the minds of his followers, for continuing his ministry there. The Master argued differently. Capernaum had been given an opportunity to hear his message and to receive his healing ministry, and he was now thinking of more needy fields. There was nothing narrow, or provincial, or selfish, in the program of the Master. He wished to preach where the message had never been heard; he desired to save those to whom had been given no opportunity for life. It was for this reason that he turned for a time from Capernaum and "went into their synagogues throughout all Galilee, preaching and casting out demons." 7. The Cleansing of the Leper. Ch. 1:40-45
Of the incidents of this first circuit in Galilee, Mark records only one, and this quite as significant as the healing of the demoniac, the miracle with which Jesus' ministry had opened. He now cleanses a leper. If the former miracle symbolized the power of Christ to deliver from the tyranny of sin, the latter pictures his ability to relieve from the defilement of sin. ; Leprosy was regarded as the most loathsome and terrible of diseases. It existed in various forms, but its invariable feature was its foul uncleanness. The leper was an outcast. He was compelled to live apart from the dwellings of men. He was required to wear a covering over his mouth and to give warning of his approach by crying, "Unclean! Unclean!" His case was regarded as hopeless; he was reckoned as dead. Loathsome, insidious, corrupting, pervasive, isolating, ceremonially and physically defiling, surely leprosy is a fitting emblem of sin; and this graphic narrative presents a parable of the power of Christ to cleanse and to heal and to restore, by his touch of grace. However, aside from its significant symbolism, the actual story is a revelation of divine power and love. The sight which the poor man presents is pathetic indeed; and as he approaches the Master he voices his appeal by a startling request: "If thou wilt, thou canst make me clean." This expresses an element which is new in the record Mark has given of the miracles performed by Jesus. This is a confession of faith; of course faith has been implied in other cases, but now it is stated with an emphasis which at once arrests attention. Here is a man asking Jesus to do what no human physician would attempt. He is absolutely certain of the power of the Master; the only question is as to his willingness. The response of Jesus is immediate: "And being moved with compassion, he stretched forth his hand, and touched him, and saith unto him, I will; be thou made clean. And straightway the leprosy departed from him." Thus Mark opens for us the heart of the Master and declares that his act springs from pity. He further pictures Jesus as touching the leper; it is an expression of his sympathy; furthermore, it strengthens the faith of the suppliant; it startles the observers, all of whom are shrinking from contact with the sufferer. Then Jesus speaks the word of power, and the cure is instantaneous and complete. In this compassion the Master is giving a message to his followers; in his service, they must be ready to stretch out the hand and to touch with sympathy those whom they would help and heal. In the command which follows there is a lesson for all who have known the gracious touch of Christ; they must be ready to obey. "And he strictly charged him, and straightway sent him out, and saith unto him. See thou say nothing to any man: but go show thyself to the priest, and offer for thy cleansing the things which Moses commanded, for a testimony unto them." The reason for this stern injunction was the fear that wide publicity of such a cure would arouse such excitement as might interfere with the preaching and teaching of Jesus, and might attract more attention to his works than to his words. Furthermore, while the man was healed, he was not ceremonially cleansed; and his going immediately to the priest would prevent him from interrupting the teaching of Jesus, and would give to the high religious authorities unanswerable testimony to Jesus' divine power. The offerings he would bring would express his thankfulness to God. The man however, in willful disobedience, "went out, and began to publish it much, and to spread abroad the matter." Possibly he made himself believe that he was expressing his gratitude. True gratitude is manifested by doing what the Lord commands. There are those to-day who believe that they have felt the healing touch of Christ, who deceive themselves into believing that they can serve the Master best by remaining secret disciples. But the universal command is to confess him before men; only by ready obedience can we aid the cause of our Lord. The failure of the restored leper to heed the injunction of Jesus, resulted exactly as the Lord had foreseen; "Jesus could no more openly enter into a city." The stupid self-will of one man prevented whole towns from hearing and seeing the Lord; nevertheless the work of Jesus was not wholly stopped for "they came to him from every quarter." The will of Christ is not the same for all men and at all times; but we live in an age when he would have, as his open witnesses, all whom he has healed. Are we, by our obedience, revealing our grateful love, or are we hindering his saving work? 8. Jesus Forgives Sins. Ch. 2:1-12
The only event which Mark relates, in the first tour of Jesus in Galilee, is the healing of a leper, the symbol of the power of Jesus to cleanse from sin. On his return to Capernaum Jesus performs a miracle in connection with which he demonstrates his power to forgive sin. The event marks a distinct division in the first period of the ministry of Jesus. Until now the record has been concerned chiefly with the healing of demoniacs and the cure of physical diseases; the remaining section declares plainly that the real mission of Jesus has mainly to do with the more serious malady of sin. A more striking contrast is found in the opposition to Jesus which now appears. In the first chapter of the Gospel we read of the wide, even embarrassing, popularity of Jesus. With the second chapter begins a record of conflict. The people still throng about him; but the rulers are offended by his claims, they are shocked by his reception of sinners, they are angered by his teaching in reference to fasting and to Sabbath observance. The occasion for the claim by which the rulers were offended was the healing by Jesus of a paralytic. The disease from which the man suffered was far more serious that what is known commonly as "paralysis"; it was rather like epilepsy. The control of the muscles was lost; but there were sudden paroxysms of pain, when the sufferer would fall, writhing in helpless agony; the attacks became more frequent, and relief was found only in death. The paralytic whom Jesus healed was suffering from a still more terrible malady of sin, of which his disease was the startling symbol, and probably the result. He was brought to Jesus by four friends, whose determination and desperate earnestness serve as an example, or a rebuke, to many who profess to be concerned about the spiritual welfare of others, but who do so little toward bringing them to Christ. These four friends were carrying the sick man on a mattress, or rug; they approached the house where Jesus was teaching, only to find their way blocked by the crowds; nothing daunted, they climbed the outer stairs to the flat roof of the low house, they tore away the tiles or other covering, broke through all obstacles, and let the poor sufferer down into the astonished circle and into the very presence of Jesus. Their course was unusual, possibly rude and inconsiderate; but it revealed to Jesus their faith, and it communicated to the man their sense of his deep need and of their absolute confidence that the Master could heal. Possibly modern methods of bringing souls to Christ might be more effective if less conventional, if more arresting and startling; surely, whatever their form, they should make an impression of deep moral earnestness; they should express a conviction that without Christ there is no hope, and that he alone has power to save. Jesus recognized the faith both of the man and of his friends and responded with an utterance which occasioned his hearers more surprise than had the opening of the roof. "Jesus seeing their faith saith unto the sick of the palsy, Son, thy sins are forgiven." No request had been made, but Jesus read the heart; he saw the yearning of the sufferer for healing, not only of his body but of his soul; he recognized the sorrow for the sin which had produced the sickness, and the anguish of remorse; and at once he spoke the word of pardon and peace. Thus Jesus voiced the message which the crowds were so slow to receive, which the world seems reluctant to accept. He declared that physical ills and social evils are less serious than the moral and spiritual maladies of which they are the symptoms and results; and he further expressed his claim of power to pronounce pardon and to remove guilt. It was this claim which so aroused the enmity of the Jewish rulers who were present, and who represented the religious leaders, not only of Capernaum but also of Jerusalem itself. "But there were certain of the scribes sitting there, and reasoning in their hearts, Why doth this man thus speak? he blasphemeth: who can forgive sins but one, even God?" The reasoning of these scribes was quite correct; Jesus was a blasphemer, he was worthy of death, unless — and there is no other alternative — unless he was one with God; and Jesus at once proceeded to demonstrate the deity which, in substance, he had claimed. He did so, first, by showing divine knowledge. His enemies had uttered no word of protest; they were spies; open opposition to Jesus had not begun; but he read their secret thoughts. "And straightway Jesus, perceiving in his spirit that they so reasoned within themselves, saith unto them. Why reason ye these things in your hearts?" He then offered a test of his deity: "Which is easier, to say to the sick of the palsy, Thy sins are forgiven; or to say, Arise, and take up thy bed, and walk?" Of course, both were difficult; to speak either word with authority required divine power. Suggesting a test expressive of sublime assurance, he added, "But that ye may know that the Son of man hath authority on earth to forgive sins (he saith to the sick of the palsy), I say unto thee. Arise, take up thy bed, and go unto thy house." Not before in this Gospel have we heard the title, "Son of man." It is not to be read in mere contrast with the phrase, Son of God; it does not express simply humanity, even the most exalted, perfect humanity. It has other and larger meanings. It was the title used by Daniel and others to denote the coming Messiah and Saviour. It is employed here, not in humility, but in furthering a claim of divine authority. As the Son of Man, Jesus claimed the right to forgive sins; and that right was proved and attested by the miracle which at once resulted: "And he arose, and straightway took up the bed, and went forth before them all." No wonder that Mark adds, "They were all amazed, and glorified God, saying, We never saw it on this fashion." Thus the miracles of Christ were proofs of his deity, as well as expressions of his love; they were parables, moreover, of his ability and willingness to deliver men from the guilt and power of sin. 9. Jesus Companies with Sinners. Ch. 2:13-17 a. The Call of Levi. Vs. 13, 14
The first occasion of enmity against Jesus, on the part of the religious leaders of the day, was his claim of authority to forgive sins; the second was the attitude he took toward sinners. A startling expression of this attitude was given when Jesus called, as his follower and personal attendant, a publican, named Levi, or Matthew. The fact that a man was a publican, or taxgatherer, did not prove him to be a sinner, but, at least, it placed him under suspicion, and debarred him from fellowship with respectable and reputable men. He was the agent of a system which depended wholly upon extortion and fraud. Taxes and customs were not collected by paid servants of the Roman Government, but by men who paid for the privilege, and who amassed fortunes by oppressive and excessive demands. The actual work was done by their representatives who, as among the Jews, were natives of the province in which they served, and who were despised, not only for their dishonesty, but for their disloyalty to their nation which so hated the yoke of Rome. These taxgatherers, or publicans, were social outcasts and were commonly ranked with the vicious and criminal. That one from this degraded class should have been called by Jesus to become an intimate companion was a challenge to the prejudices of the times and a particular offense to the proud and self-righteous Pharisees. The call was given as Jesus was again leaving Capernaum to continue his teaching "by the sea side," where the open spaces afforded him room for the vast multitudes that "resorted unto him." The man who was now summoned to public discipleship was called Levi; he probably had another name, Matthew, or he now assumed the name by which he has become best known. Whether or not the name was new, he now entered upon a new career and became a new man. The call seems abrupt, the decision sudden, as the change in life was to be complete. Jesus saw him "sitting at the place of toll, and he saith unto him. Follow me. And he arose and followed him." We should, however, remember that this taxgatherer was probably no stranger to Jesus. Like all the inhabitants of Capernaum he had heard the Master preach, had witnessed his miracles, and had listened to the promises of a coming Kingdom and of the blessedness of his followers. Now came the definite invitation; the response was immediate and open. In the presence of the multitudes, in the very place of his usual occupation, he became a follower of Christ. There are sudden conversions to-day; but, usually, each one is the climax of a long period of preparation and the result of previous influences; however, there is a time of crisis, there is a demand for decision, there is a clear call for public confession and open service. Happy is the man who at such a time makes such a choice as that of Matthew, the publican! This choice involved great sacrifice; such decisions usually do. It meant the loss of wealth, and the abandonment of a lucrative position. It demanded a clean break with all the past. He could not occasionally slip away from the Master to resume his seat "at the place of toll." However, it secured for Matthew a great reward. This despised outcast became a blessing to his land and to the world; he wrote a Gospel; he won an imperishable crown of fame and glory. His story has been an abiding testimony to the power of Christ, who was able to transform a despised publican into an apostle, an evangelist, and a saint. b. The Feast in the House of Levi. Vs. 15-17
Probably in gratitude to Jesus, and to express his allegiance still more definitely, the new disciple prepares a feast, at which Jesus is the guest of honor, and to which Matthew invites a great company of his former friends. Many a young convert finds it his chief joy to bring his old comrades into the presence of the Master; and surely no one need expect to become of wide usefulness in the world who is not willing to acknowledge to his companions his decision to become a follower of Christ, and who does not in some definite way bring the Lord into his home. The willingness of Jesus to accept such an invitation and his presence with Matthew in such a circle of "publicans and sinners" is no encouragement to converts to continue in the society of Christless men, nor does it sanction joining with them in business practices and social pursuits which are contrary to the mind of Christ. We can invite the Lord to be a guest at our table; we cannot expect him to return with us to the haunts of sinners or the place of our dishonest gains. The presence of Jesus at the feast of Levi is a still clearer expression of his attitude toward sinners, and a further aggravation of his offense against the Pharisees, who cry out to his disciples in horror and in bitter protest, "He eateth and drinketh with publicans and sinners." The complaint affords the opportunity for Jesus to utter one of his most significant sayings: 'They that are whole have no need of a physician, but they that are sick: I came not to call the righteous, but sinners." By this reference Jesus at once explains and vindicates his conduct, and defines his earthly mission. A physician goes to a sick room or hospital, not because he likes disease or delights in the companionship of invalids and sufferers, but because he wishes to cure and to relieve; so Jesus companied with sinners, not because he countenanced sin or enjoyed the society of the depraved, but because, as a healer of souls, he was willing to go where he was most needed and to work where the ravages of sin were the worst. He came into the world to save sinners. Their conduct distressed him, their sins pained him; but to accomplish his task he must seek them out, he must show his sympathy by his presence and his healing touch. What hope these words must have brought to the guests in the house of Levi! The religious leaders of the day had shunned them, despised them, hated them, and made them believe that their God cared as little for them, or loved them no more. Here in their midst was One whose pure face and spirit rebuked their sins, but whose presence and whose words expressed a divine sympathy and declared that sinners were the special objects of his affection and his saving power. What a rebuke to the Pharisees, these words embodied! Was their attitude toward sinners such as to win them to virtue and to God? Then, too, why was it that this Teacher, whose heavenly words were enforced by marvelous miracles, had no message for them, and was not pleasing to them? What did he mean by saying, "I came not to call the righteous, but sinners"? Were they "righteous" or were they "sinners"? That was for them to say. Undoubtedly many of them thought themselves righteous; therefore they never heard or heeded the saving call of Christ. Such mistaken men never do. What a definite message, too, these w^ords contain for all the followers of Christ! We are not to be content with our own salvation, but are to remember the souls sick with sin, and are to show for them our sincere concern. We are not. to expect the sick to come to us; but, as wise physicians, to seek them where they are lying. Thus only can we be true disciples of him who "came not to call the righteous, but sinners." 10. The Question in Reference to Fasting. Ch. 2:18-22
Jesus first offended the Pharisees by his claim to forgive sins, later by his treatment of sinners; he now arouses their anger by his attitude toward the forms and ceremonies which, to the mind of the Pharisees, constituted the very essence of religion. This attitude had been expressed by the failure of Jesus to require his disciples to observe the fasts which had become so prominent in the system of legalism taught by the religious leaders of the Jews. The Law had required but one fast a year; the rabbis had so multiplied this form of religious observance that a Pharisee could boast of fasting "twice in the week." Even the disciples of John were taught to fast frequently, not as an empty form but to express the solemn character of the ministry of John who had come preaching "repentance unto remission of sins." It is not strange therefore that the enemies of Jesus come to him with the complaint and the question: "Why do John's disciples and the disciples of the Pharisees fast, but thy disciples fast not?" In his reply Jesus expresses clearly the relation of his followers toward fasting, and also toward all religious ceremonies and rites: "Can the sons of the bridechamber fast, while the bridegroom is with them? as long as they have the bridegroom with them, they cannot fast. But the days will come, when the bridegroom shall be taken away from them and then will they fast in that day." In this first part of his reply Jesus suggests that fasting, like all religious rites, may be fitting if it is a true expression of religious feeling; but if it is a matter of rule, or requirement, or a supposed ground of merit, it is an absurdity and an impertinence. If one fasts to improve bodily health, or to keep the mind more free for spiritual exercises, the practice may be innocent; but if one fasts because required by some calendar or ritual, his self-denial may be a meaningless form, or a hateful exhibition of self-righteousness. Jesus calls himself "the bridegroom," and declares that it would be absurd for his followers, the friends of the heavenly bridegroom, to fast while he was with them; but the time was approaching when he would be violently taken from them; in the hostility of the Pharisees he saw the signs of the approaching storm, the certainty of his rejection and death; at such a time fasting might fitly express the sorrow of his friends; now fasting would be for them an empty form. So it is with all religious ceremonies; they may possibly be proper, when expressive of true feeling, when fitting to the time and place; but, when required, or performed irrespective of sentiment or of the attitude of the heart, they may be purposeless, perfunctory, and absurd. Thus Jesus strikes at the very heart of all ceremonialism in religion. In the second part of his reply, Jesus teaches that even the most expressive rites and the most significant ceremonies have but a small place in religion as established and interpreted by himself. He had not come to regulate or to require the Jewish ritual, nor could its forms rightfully express the new spirit of truth he embodied and proclaimed. Such is the general meaning of the two brief parables which form the conclusion to his answer. "No man seweth a piece of undressed cloth on an old garment: else that which should fill it up taketh from it, the new from the old, and a worse rent is made." Jesus had not come to piece out Judaism by adding a few new rules and requirements. He had something new to impart; but it was not his purpose to patch an old system,- or to increase for his followers the minute regulations and oppressive observances which the Pharisees, in the name of religion, were binding on the consciences of men. Such an attempt would be as foolish and disastrous as to put an unshrunken patch on an old garment. "And no man putteth new wine into old wine-skins; else the wine will burst the skins, and the wine perisheth, and the skins: but they put new wine into fresh wineskins." The reference is to the custom of using leathern bottles, made of skins, for carrying wine, and to the fact that new wine, by its increasing fermentation, would burst "old skins," which were already stretched, or worn thin by age. So, as Jesus suggested, it would be impossible for the old forms and ceremonies of Judaism to contain the spirit of religion as taught by him. Christianity cannot be comprehended by any system of rites and observances, it cannot be bound up by any set of rules and requirements, it is not to be confused with any ritual. Its very essence is a new life, imparted by faith in Christ; it controls men, not by rules but by motives; its symbol is not a fast, but a feast, for its pervasive spirit is joy. If Christianity was to have any forms, they must be new; the followers of Christ could not be bound by the fasts and other observances which had been invented or multiplied by Jewish formalists and Pharisees. 11. The Sabbath Controversy. Chs. 2:23 to 3:6 a. The Disciples Plucking Grain. Ch. 2:23-28
Jesus had aroused the enmity of the Pharisees by his disregard of the burdensome rules their rabbis had made in reference to fasting; he now stirs this enmity into murderous hate by his rebuke of their interpretation of the Sabbath law, and of their absurd scruples about Sabbath observance. The question involved was thus a vital one in the life of our Lord, and it is one of pressing importance in the lives of his followers to-day. In his teaching Jesus, as usual, frees men from the narrow restrictions of legalism, and shows that human conduct is to be regulated, not by minute rules, but by moral principles. As relating to the Sabbath, the principles are few in number and they are all illustrated in the two incidents which Mark here records. They are as follows: the Sabbath, for the Christian, is the Lord's Day, and is to be devoted to rest and worship and to works of necessity and mercy. The first of these incidents embodies the elements of his teaching relative to rest, to works of necessity, and to the Lordship of Christ. On a Sabbath Day, the disciples are following Jesus, on a path, through the fields of standing grain. Because of their hunger, they pick some of the heads of ripe wheat. "And the Pharisees said unto him. Behold, why do they on the sabbath day that which is not lawful?" It was, of course, the Sabbath law against labor, which they had in mind. They regarded the picking of the grain as a kind of reaping, and the separation of the chaff from the wheat as a form of threshing; thus the disciples, according to the interpretation of the Pharisees, were breaking the Law which forbade working on the Sabbath. It was a good instance of the subtle and absurd refinements upon which the Pharisees insisted in their application of the Law; it also illustrates the fact that these blind legalists always had, as their standard of judgment, not the Law but their interpretation of the Law, even as religious bigots have to-day. It was a petty and contemptible charge which the Pharisees were bringing; but Jesus answered them seriously, and in so doing he declared principles which are of universal application in all ages. His reply is twofold: first, he defends the disciples by citing a precedent from Jewish history; secondly, he declares the real nature of the Sabbath law. "And he said unto them, Did ye never read what David did, when he had need, and was hungry, he, and they that were with him? How he entered into the house of God when Abiathar was high priest, and ate the showbread, which it is not lawful to eat save for the priests, and gave also to them that were with him?" Thus Jesus refers, as his authority, to the very Scriptures upon which the Pharisees depended; and he shows that David, the great king, had broken the Law by eating the sacred bread, which was laid on the golden table in the Holy Place, and which, according to the Law, could be eaten by priests only. David and his followers had obeyed the higher law of necessity and their action had received the approval of countless generations; so, too, the disciples, yielding to necessity, had broken the Sabbath law and were guiltless. The point to observe here is that David really broke the Law; and that Jesus admits that his disciples had broken the Sabbath law. It is a startling statement of the truth that the Sabbath is a day of rest; that, according to the Sabbath law, no work of any kind can ever be done. It is not correct to say that the Sabbath law allows this kind of work, or that kind of work; it allows no work. Jesus does not try to answer the Pharisees by saying that picking a few grains of wheat is not work; he admits that the Law has been broken but insists that under certain circumstances it is right to break the Sabbath law of complete rest. Works of necessity break that law, but involve no fault or guilt. This is high, safe, moral ground to take. We are not to ask whether any particular act or pursuit is allowed by the Sabbath law; we must decide how far we are justified in breaking this law. We may perform some tasks on the day of rest and yet be as innocent as David in the Holy Place, or the disciples of Jesus in the fields of grain. It is evident, then, that the Sabbath law differs in its nature from other laws; under no circumstances would it be right to break the laws of purity, or of honesty, or of love. To break such laws involves guilt and sin; but one may break the law of Sabbath rest in obedience to many forms of necessity, and be innocent. It is thus to the nature of the Sabbath law that Jesus refers in the closing part of his reply. "And he said unto them, The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath: so that the Son of man is lord even of the sabbath." As an institution designed for the benefit of man, it should be his slave not his master; its observance should deprive him of no necessity; it should be allowed to rob him of no benefit. Herein lay the error of the Pharisees. They had so interpreted the Sabbath law and so loaded it with minute, absurd, and vexing requirements and restrictions, that its observance was no longer a delight but a burden. The Law, instead of being a servant, had been transformed into a cruel master, and under its tyranny men were groaning. Jesus struck off the shackles, which human traditions and interpretations had imposed, by his memorable words, "The sabbath was made for man." It is surprising and saddening to see how widely this saying has been misunderstood and misinterpreted in the interests of Sabbath desecration. There are those who even try to suggest that by it Jesus actually abolished the Sabbath, or transformed it from a holy day into a holiday. This is to interpret the teaching of Jesus, in the interests of license, quite as absurdly as the Pharisees interpreted the Sabbath law in the interests of legalism. "The sabbath was made for man"; but what is man? Is he only an animal? If so, a day made for him may well be spent wholly in physical exercise, recreation, and indulgence. Does he possess a mind, is that his essential faculty, then his Sabbath should be devoted to mental culture and aesthetic pursuits. Is man an immortal soul, created with the power of fellowship with God, then a Sabbath is properly spent in securing refreshment for body and mind, but more particularly in seeking and employing the opportunity for spiritual growth, divine communion, and enlarging knowledge of things which are eternal. "The sabbath was made for man," but we are to remember that when Jesus uttered these words he had just been arguing from the premise that the Sabbath law of rest for body and mind is of universal and continual application; and further we are to remember that he added, "So that the Son of man is lord even of the sabbath." Instead of abolishing the Sabbath, Jesus declared that his divine Lordship was so great that it extended even to so sacred and necessary an institution as the Sabbath. As it was made for man, he, the representative Man, the Saviour of men, was not a slave to its demands; in a case of necessity, he could disregard its law; he would free it, for all time, from the formal restrictions imposed by the Pharisees, he would restore it to a place of real, helpful service to men. There is little danger that those who admit the Lordship of Christ will fail to keep holy, as a sacred institution, that day which as the "Lord's Day," now the first day of the week, reminds them less of the Law and its requirements and more of the liberty and joyous life secured by the risen Lord. b. Healing the Withered Hand. Ch. 3:1-6
Jesus declared himself to be "lord even of the sabbath'*: and those who wish to know what his will is, in reference to Sabbath-keeping, do well to observe that it was his invariable custom to attend public services in the synagogue on the Sabbath. His example indicated that divine worship is the essential feature of Sabbath observance. Of this we are reminded as we read here that Jesus "entered again into the synagogue." His enemies were also present. A short time before he had angered them by rebuking their spirit of narrow bigotry, and by refusing to be bound by their absurd scruples and minute regulations, as he declared that "the sabbath was made for man," and that while the Sabbath law enjoined rest, this law properly could be disregarded in cases of necessity. On this occasion he was to add one further principle, namely, that in a true observance of the Sabbath, works of mercy should be included as well as works of necessity. The opportunity which now presents itself to Jesus is the presence in the synagogue of a man "who had his hand withered." The case was not that of a natural deformity, but apparently the result of disease; the hand, and probably the arm, was palsied, shrunken, atrophied. Jesus looks upon the poor cripple with divine compassion; but the Pharisees regard him with malicious glee. They believe that Jesus will heal the man, and by such a work, however gracious, will break the Sabbath law and thus make himself liable to arrest. The occasion for which they had been hoping has come. "They watched him, whether he would heal him on the sabbath day; that they might accuse him." Jesus takes the occasion, first, to administer to his enemies a severe rebuke. "He saith unto the man that had his hand withered. Stand forth," and with the sufferer, whose cure they would have forbidden, standing clearly in view, he turns to the Pharisees and asks, "Is it lawful on the sabbath day to do good, or to do harm? to save a life, or to kill?" What Jesus states is this: To refuse help is to harm; to decline to rescue life is murder. When, therefore, one fails to show mercy on the Sabbath Day, he is guilty of the most extreme lawlessness and of the most unpardonable desecration. The Sabbath law does require rest from labor, but that law must yield to the law of love. W^ork must be avoided on the Sabbath, if possible; but works of mercy are not only innocent but their voluntary refusal is sinful. By such reasoning Jesus silences his enemies. "They held their peace." They are eagerly awaiting the act which will follow, and which, in the popular mind, will be construed as work. Jesus, however, completely baffles and discomfits them. "When he had looked round about on them with anger, being grieved at the hardening of their heart, he saith unto the man. Stretch forth thy hand. And he stretched it forth: and his hand was restored." Jesus had done no work; he had not touched the man; that act might have been construed as labor. He had not told the man to work; to hold out a hand could not be called labor. Yet the man was cured, and Jesus had done nothing which, upon even the most technical grounds, could be called a breach of the Sabbath law. His enemies were defeated; he had merely looked on them with anger at their sin, but with pity for their ignorance and blind unbelief; they now regarded him with the most malignant and deadly hate. "The Pharisees went out, and straightway with the Herodians took counsel against him, how they might destroy him." The Pharisees were the patriotic party among the Jews; the Herodians favored the Roman Government, and were their natural enemies. For such men to make common cause against Jesus, showed how violent was their anger and how desperate was their hatred. How appalling to think that such sentiments are sometimes harbored, in the house of God, and on the Sabbath Day, and because of divergent views as to religious ceremonies! One worshiper, at least, went home in an ecstasy of joy; it was "the man that had his hand withered"; he had faith enough to attempt the impossible, when Jesus bade him stretch forth his hand; he found that strength came with the will to obey, as all find when they trust the divine Son of God who ever is ready to perform such deeds of mercy as he wrought in the synagogue on that memorable Sabbath Day. 12. The Retirement to the Lake. Ch. 3:7-12
The public ministry of Jesus opened with a period of immediate and immense popularity; but soon there fell upon the scene a dark and deepening shadow, the envy and hatred of the scribes and Pharisees. Their enmity had been aroused by the claim of Jesus to forgive sins, it had been increased by his attitude of sympathy toward sinners, and it reached a climax of fanatical violence when Jesus ventured to act contrary to their bigoted and narrow interpretation of the Sabbath law. A crisis had come. The enemies of Jesus were plotting his death. It was for this reason Jesus withdrew from Capernaum, for a time, to continue his ministry by the shores of the lake or "sea of Galilee." He was followed by great multitudes, and for a time we forget the existence of enemies as we see the eager, excited crowd thronging about him. Mark calls attention not only to the size of the multitudes but to the wide extent of territory they represented. They came from Judea and Jerusalem and Idumaea on the south, from Perea "beyond the Jordan" on the east, and from the Phoenician seacoast "about Tyre and Sidon" to the northwest. The whole land was aroused. Jesus was the sensation and the idol of the hour. Many came from curiosity "hearing what great things he did," many to listen to his message, many more to be cured of diseases. Jesus was in danger of being crushed by the crowds, particularly by the sufferers scourged by torturing maladies and frenzied with hope, who literally fell upon him, believing that if they might touch him they would be healed. It was necessary, therefore, to have provided for Jesus a little boat, by which he could escape from the pressure of the throng and from which he could address them. Among the multitudes Mark singles out for special mention the demoniacs. They were the most pitiful of all, and their conduct was the supreme witness to the power of Jesus, for they, "whensoever they beheld him, fell down before him, and cried, saying, Thou art the Son of God." Jesus, however, "charged them much that they should not make him known." The time had not come, and these were not the beings, to proclaim his divine person and work. The whole paragraph is phrased in terms characteristic of Mark — the crowds, the activity, the vivid color, the mighty works, the cry of unclean spirits, the limitless power of Jesus. The scene is in accord with the nature of this Gospel which presents our Lord as the kingly Servant, the wonder-working Son of God. It is moreover a picture of the world to-day, with its countless multitudes, ignorant, diseased, in spiritual bondage and distress, seeking for truth and help and healing, and in the midst the majestic figure of Christ, tender in sympathy, ready to heal, powerful to save. B. THE SECOND PERIOD. Chs. 3:13 to 6:6 1. The Choice of the Twelve Apostles. Ch. 3:13-19
The choice of twelve apostles to be official companions and representatives of Jesus was due to two contrasted causes: the great popularity of Jesus with the common people and the increasing hostility of the rulers. The first made it necessary for Jesus to have assistants in his work of teaching and healing; the second suggested that the time of his life would be brief, and that it would be necessary to train a band of men who would be prepared to found and establish his Church. This event, therefore, marks a distinct epoch in the ministry of our Lord. The choice was twofold: Jesus went up into one of the hills that rose from the shore of the lake, and first summoned certain of his followers; then, from this number, he selected twelve as his special associates and messengers. Their primary duty was to proclaim the good news of the Kingdom, but in preparation for this they were to receive special instruction from him, and to aid them in this service and to attest their commission they were to have power to work miracles, particularly "authority to cast out demons." For all followers of Christ there is a message In these closely related clauses: "He appointed twelve, that they might be with him, and that he might send them forth to preach, and to have authority to cast out demons." The supreme privilege for any Christian is that of testifying for Christ; but the necessary preparation for such work or witness is personal association with the Lord; "he appointed twelve, that they might be with him, and that he might send them forth." Men so prepared and so commissioned may expect to achieve results; they will "have authority to cast out demons"; not all the powers of earth or of hell can defeat them. Such messengers surely are needed to-day. The opposition to Christ is still bitter, but multitudes are waiting to hear the saving word. The Twelve whom Jesus chose to be his apostles were men of modest means and humble station. They were in no sense paupers, however. Even the fishermen among them owned their own boats and nets and employed hired servants. Peter occupied a house large enough to accommodate his family and his friends. Matthew must have had considerable money, however tainted; to follow the Master he left a lucrative political job; and to celebrate his conversion he gave a great feast in his own house. Judas, if we judge from his subsequent career, had never allowed himself to feel the pinch of poverty. Nevertheless, this company included no men of great wealth. There is always a place among the followers of Christ for those who can consecrate riches to his cause. Usually, however, he calls to largest service, and in greatest numbers, those who are familiar with the primitive wants and passions and interests of men, who have lived close to nature, and who understand the language and the view and the needs of the common people. The Twelve were men of moderate ability. They were by no means stupid or illiterate. When called "unlearned and ignorant" by the rulers in Jerusalem, it was simply meant that they had not attended the schools of the rabbis and had received no technical education in the sacred Law. As a matter of fact, the Gospel and Epistles and Apocalypse of John, the writings and sermons of Peter, the literary skill of Matthew and his previous career as a publican, indicate men of intelligence, mental grasp, and keen powers of observation and ability to comprehend difficult truths. However, among them all there was no "scribe," no lawyer, no man of political, or social, or intellectual prominence. Christ can use in his service men of culture and vast attainments and supreme genius, like Paul; but it is still true that "not many wise after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called," either to salvation or to conspicuous service. They were men of the most diverse character. Whenever named in the Gospels, they are always divided into the same three groups, which, possibly, may be distinguished as follows: first, the men of largest gifts and most striking personality, Peter, Andrew, James, and John; second, the reflective, contemplative men, questioning and slow to believe, Philip, Bartholomew, Thomas, and Matthew; third, the practical men of business, who arranged the finances and other necessary details for the little group of comrades. While these general characteristics may be noted, the individuality of the leading figures is strikingly portrayed, from the impulsive and impetuous Simon, who became Peter, the man of rock, and John, the "Son of thunder," who became the apostle of gentleness and love, to Judas, the man who allowed himself, even in the company of Jesus, to harbor the demon of greed until under its power he became the infamous traitor. We should never be surprised to find among the followers of Christ men of the most varied character. He can use them all, and he transforms them all, if only they will yield themselves wholly to his ennobling power. The apostles were obscure men. No one of them is known to the historians of the world, and even on the pages of the Gospels most of them are mere names. Peter, John, Philip, Thomas, and Judas, we know; Bartholomew was probably another name for Nathanael; Thaddaeus was possibly the same as "Jude . . . brother of James," and as Lebbaeus, according to the other Gospels; Simon the Cananæan was apparently a "zealot," or a member, originally, of the fanatical party which so sharply opposed the rule of Rome. However, after all, what shadowy, indistinct figures most of these are! Yet by these men the course of human history has been turned; their names are written in heaven and are engraved on the walls of the New Jerusalem. At the present time the messengers of Christ are often the least famous men of their age, but they are performing an imperishable task and their names will at last appear highest on the rolls of fame. 2. The Unpardonable Sin. Ch. 3:20-30
Here again we find Jesus in Capernaum, and once more he is surrounded by the tumultuous, eager crowd. So completely do they engross his attention that he finds no time even for taking necessary food. His friends, probably his mother and brothers, regard this lack of prudence, this disregard of rest and refreshment, as signs of religious frenzy and even of an unbalanced mind. "They went out to lay hold on him: for they said. He is beside himself." It is true that religious workers often injure themselves by too great zeal, and need the restraint of friends lest they heedlessly endanger their usefulness and their work. On the other hand, it is a very serious responsibility to decide for another the limits of his strength or his task. It is also worthy of remark that men are much more frequently called fanatics when they endanger their health in the cause of Christ than when they incur similar risks in the pursuit of wealth or fame. Surely the friends of Jesus were guilty of presumption and injustice when they attempted to stop his work and when they accused him of being insane. However, "the scribes that came down from Jerusalem" are ready to prefer a more serious charge. They declare that he is actually under the control of the Devil. They claim that in this way they can account for the power of Jesus to cast out demons. They say, "He hath Beelzebub, and, By the prince of the demons casteth he out the demons." It is noticeable that his enemies do not deny the miracles of Jesus; they attempt to discredit them, and him, on the ground that they are wrought by collusion with Satan. Jesus at once shows both the absurdity and the wickedness^ of their suggestion. He indicates the first by the pertinent question: "How can Satan cast out Satan?" The suggestion involves an evident contradiction. Jesus illustrates this principle by two close analogies: "If a kingdom be divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand," and if a household "be divided against itself," that household cannot stand. So if Satan is enabling Jesus to cast out his subject demons, the kingdom and house of Satan must be divided. It is absurd to suppose that he is fighting against himself. Our Lord now uses another image to assert positively what, so far, he has stated negatively: "No one can enter into the house of the strong man, and spoil his goods, except he first bind the strong man; and then he will spoil his house." That is to say, not only is it absurd to suggest that Satan is helping Jesus, but, the fact is, Jesus is despoiling Satan; he is defeating him and robbing him of his power, and taking from him his property, his possessions, and his servants. So real is this antagonism between Jesus and Satan that the charge of the Pharisees, while absurd, is still more extremely sinful. It is blasphemous, and this blasphemy is against the Holy Spirit. Therefore, Jesus adds, "Verily I say unto you, All their sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of men, and their blasphemies wherewith soever they shall blaspheme: but whosoever shall blaspheme against the Holy Spirit hath never forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin: because they said. He hath an unclean spirit." The meaning is quite evident. Jesus performed his works by the power of the Holy Spirit; to declare, therefore, that he performed them by the power of the Devil, was to blaspheme the Holy Spirit; it was to confuse all moral distinctions; it was to confound all moral values; it was to reveal on the part of the speakers an unpardonable moral blindness. That the scribes who accused our Lord were fully conscious of what they were implying, is by no means certain; but surely by these words of Jesus they were solemnly warned that it would be a sin which could not be forgiven intentionally to ascribe Satanic power to the divine Son of God. Probably there is little danger that anyone to-day may commit this unpardonable sin of blaspheming against the Holy Spirit; but do not Christians need to be warned against "grieving" and "quenching" the Spirit; and are not others in peril of "resisting the Holy Spirit" and of thus incurring eternal death? 3. The Mother and Brethren of Jesus. Ch. 3:31-35
Here Jesus finds himself in one of the most painful situations, one of the most delicate dilemmas of his earthly ministry. "There come his mother and his brethren; and, standing without, they sent unto him, calling him." The purpose of their errand has already been declared. They believe Jesus to be insane, and they are intending to stop his work. What can Jesus do? He cannot be untrue to his mission; he will not be unkind to his mother. He cannot allow an interruption of his task; he must not appear wanting in human sympathy. The difficulty is very real, but it is met with divine wisdom; Jesus finds in it the occasion for proclaiming an immortal truth: namely, the real kindred of Christ are those who, as his disciples, are doing the will of God. "And he answereth them, and saith. Who is my mother and my brethren? And looking round . . . about him, he saith. Behold, my mother and my brethren! For whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother." Such a reply could not have offended Mary and her sons. Jesus did not repudiate them; he did not refuse to recognize them. He suggested that those sacred human relationships which they sustained to him, were symbols of that spiritual kinship with him which is enjoyed by those who do the will of God. However, there was in his words a certain subtle rebuke. He looked around upon his followers, as he spoke of those who were doing the will of God. Did he not thus intimate that, if these brothers according to the flesh failed to understand him, failed to sympathize with him, refused to be his followers, they were not then doing the will of God, they were not his spiritual kindred? Is it not a solemn intimation that men, to-day, who refuse to follow Christ are not then doing the will of God? Is it not further an intimation that those who do profess to be his followers must show their spiritual kinship with him by daily devoted obedience to the divine will? 4. The Parable of the Sower. Ch. 4:1-25
Mark is the Gospel of deeds rather than words. In comparison with Matthew, or Luke, or John, it contains many miracles, but few parables or discourses. This general statement, however, may be misleading. It may make one forget how much valuable teaching, given by Jesus, is recorded in this second Gospel. It is noticeable indeed that some of the parables common to the other writers are related by Mark with great fullness, and in this first chapter which records the teachings of Jesus there is one parable which is found in this Gospel alone; it is that of the secret growth of the seed. It is also worthy of note that the parable which is related most minutely, and which is set forth in the Gospel record in this fourth chapter, is the parable which embodies an exhortation to carefulness in hearing. Its message is essentially one which reminds us of the responsibility which rests upon those who enjoy the opportunity of listening to the teachings of our Lord. The pulpit which Jesus occupies, when pronouncing this first parable, is the little boat which we have seen before, which Jesus found it necessary to enter in order that he might escape the pressure of the multitudes as they crowded about him. It is a picturesque scene which Mark paints for us. We see the throngs gathered on the shore, and our Saviour sitting in the little boat which float on the smooth surface of the inland lake. The parable which he first utters is commonly called the parable of the Sower. It might properly be designated the parable of the Soils; for the main message is suggested by the different kinds of soil upon which the sower is said to cast his seed. These are used by our Lord to picture different kinds of hearers. The first are described as "they by the way side." The reference is not to a road, but to the hard-beaten path which separated the fields of grain. The seed which fell on such a surface was unable to take root. The birds of the air soon devoured it. There are some hearers whose hearts are so hardened by selfish desire and evil habit that no message can find lodgment. No sooner has the Word been preached in their hearing than other thoughts, like messengers of Satan, come to take from their minds and memories what has been spoken. The second class is described as "they that are sown upon the rocky places." The reference is not to soil in which stones are found, but rather to a thin layer of soil covering a rock. The soil is good, but it lacks depth. Accordingly, the seed soon springs up and grows the more rapidly because of the reflected warmth of the sun; but as the roots strike downward they meet the impenetrable rock, and the springing grain soon withers under the blighting sun. By this figure, our Lord describes those who are ready to receive the message which has been brought. Their emotions are easily stirred; but they lack depth of conviction, and when tribulations or persecutions come, because of their merely nominal acceptance of the truth they soon fall away and are offended. The third class is described by Jesus as "they that are sown among the thorns." The reference is to seed which falls in soil where thorns have begun to sprout. The seed takes root; it springs up with promise; but the thorns grow and choke the grain, so that it can bear no fruit. By this figure our Lord describes those who gladly hear his Word, who sincerely accept the truth which it contains, who begin a life of faith, but who in time are overcome by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, so that they are unfruitful as followers of Christ. Last of all, Jesus describes a class "that were sown upon the good ground," who "bear fruit, thirty-fold, and sixty-fold, and a hundred-fold." By this figure he describes the true hearers, who not only receive the Word, but who allow it to influence their lives and who as a result produce the peaceable fruit of righteousness, and themselves become centers of Christian influence and messengers of divine truth. This parable is spoken by Jesus in the hearing of the multitude, but the explanation is given in private to his disciples and to those who are accompanying them. It is obviously a great advantage to us to have an interpretation given which is so authoritative and clear; but our Lord prefaces his explanation of th-e parable by words which have occasioned no little difficulty: "And he said unto them, Unto you is given the mystery of the kingdom of God: but unto them that are without, all things are done in parables: that seeing they may see, and not perceive; and hearing they may hear, and not understand; lest haply they should turn again, and it should be forgiven them." A "mystery" in Bible language means, not something which is difficult to understand, but a truth formerly hidden and now revealed. Thus, "the mystery of the kingdom" signifies a truth concerning the Kingdom which a human mind would not have discovered, but which Jesus has declared. He says that he employs parables so that such truths may be made plain to his followers, but may not be understood by those who are unwilling to trust and to serve him. The latter may see without really perceiving, they may hear without truly understanding. They are not allowed to know the truth which might lead to repentance and forgiveness. It is in reference to the true purpose of the parables that Jesus utters the words which follow. In the interpretation which he proceeds to give, he asks whether a lamp is bought to put under the bushel or on the stand. Obviously, a lamp is intended to give light. Such, too, is the real purpose of a parable. It is not intended to conceal but to reveal truth. It is necessary, however, for one who would understand, to consider the message with all diligence and seriousness. Our Lord enforces this admonition by adding: "Take heed what ye hear: with what measure ye mete it shall be measured unto you; and more shall be given unto you. For he that hath, to him shall be given: and he that hath not, from him shall be taken away even that which he hath." By this our Lord means to indicate that those who accept only a part of his teaching must expect to receive but little more; but those who carefully heed all that he speaks may expect their understanding to be enlarged and their knowledge to be increased. It is a great privilege to hear the Word of Christ, but unbelief or indifference will result in continued ignorance; while the heart that is open to receive and to obey the message of the Master will be enlarged by ever greater stores of truth. 5. The Parable of the Growing Grain. Ch. 4:26-29
This is the only parable recorded by Mark which can be found in no other part of the Bible; and it might be expected that it would be recorded here, for this is a parable for the servants of Christ, and Mark is the Gospel of the mighty Servant, the wonder-working Son of God. The parable of the Sower, which immediately precedes, teaches the responsibility of those who hear the gospel message; this parable contains a lesson for those who proclaim this message. The first parable depicted, by various kinds of soil, the hearts of different hearers; this parable illustrates the right attitude of mind for one who preaches the Word, and then leaves the results with the Lord. Even the first parable contains a warning for the messenger of Christ: he should not expect all seed to fall on good ground. This parable likewise suggests a warning: the sower must not expect ripe grain to appear immediately. The processes of life are mysterious; the growth of grain is gradual, "first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear." Thus the parable depicts three different periods in the experience of a farmer, first that of faithful sowing, then that of patient waiting, and lastly that of joyful reaping. Jesus declares that this experience is similar to that of one who proclaims the message of salvation. His task is to sow the seed faithfully; the production of the harvest is in the hands of God. This sowing may be difficult and painful; it may involve hardship and sacrifice and pain; but when the seed has been carefully planted, then one can rest. He can "sleep and rise night and day," for by processes of which he is ignorant, and which he does not seek to discover, the seed will "spring up and grow, he knoweth not how." There are forces in the earth, and rain and sunlight and summer air; over these the sower has no control; but he trusts that, if he has sown good seed, these influences will combine to produce the ripe grain. Happy is the Christian messenger who has learned to wait patiently for the harvest when he has faithfully scattered the seed, to do his work carefully and to leave the results with God! "The earth beareth fruit of herself;" the earth possesses properties adapted to the seed, and the seed possesses a principle or germ of life which the earth can nurture; but no human power is needed, no influence of man could cause the seed to fructify or the grain to sprout. So it is that the human heart is prepared to receive the Word of God, and by divine forces new life is produced and developed until there is brought forth the ripened fruit of Christian character and service. This perfected adaptation between the gospel message and the heart of man is possibly one of the chief lessons of this parable. This period of patient waiting for the harvest also teaches us that, normally, the growth of spiritual life is gradual. According to the claims, and probably the experience, of some, the attainment of complete sanctification and of the highest life is sudden, even instantaneous; in most cases, surely, the development of Christian life and experience is gradual, "first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear." The actual birth of the new life is mysterious and hidden; just how the seed fructifies no one knows; but surely if there is life it will manifest itself, there will be a "blade" at least. Time has been required for even this; more time will be required for "the ear" to form on the growing plant; and even this unripe ear will be bitter and unfit for food. Not all Christians are lovely, even though they are Christians; but if there is real life, if the stalks are not "tares" but wheat, there will surely com.e a time of maturity when in the ear will appear the full grain, the fruit of more perfect love and joy and peace and long-suffering and gentleness and meekness and self-control. Surely this truth is not intended to make Christians satisfied with imperfect attainments and stunted growth and fruitless lives. It is rather designed to make them suspicious of forcing processes, of magical and instantaneous developments, and to lead them to seek by normal methods, by the use of ordinary means of grace, to develop within them the peaceable fruits of righteousness. Most of all, the parable is designed to encourage the Christian worker to wait the gradual fulfillment of the plans and purposes of God. After long nights and days of patient expectation the harvest will come, the fruits of his labors will appear, and he who has gone forth with weeping bearing precious seed, "shall doubtless come again with joy, bringing his sheaves with him." 6. The Parable of the Mustard Seed. Ch. 4:30-34
Jesus gives one more parable, to teach another aspect of truth in reference to the Kingdom. He first turns to his hearers and asks, "How shall we liken the kingdom of God? or in what parable shall we set it forth?" We can imagine that the disciples were thus prepared for some splendid picture of imposing imagery. How startled must they have been when he replies to his own question, "It is like a grain of mustard seed." Our Lord was fully conscious how insignificant his cause must appear to his enemies, and even to the multitudes who listened to his words. Until now he had only a small band of followers; they were obscure men and powerless. The rulers hated him and were plotting his death. Could this movement, which Jesus was heading, be the glorious Kingdom of which the prophets had spoken? Jesus reminds his hearers that however contemptible his cause may now appear, it will yet attain proportions which will engage the attention of the whole world. Some interpreters suggest the fact that the mustard seed never develops into an actual tree; it is "a garden shrub outdoing itself, but a garden shrub still"; and they suggest that it pictures the insubstantial, pretentious systems, with which Christianity at times has been identified, and the various forms it yet may assume before the perfected Kingdom of God appears upon earth. Such interpreters also identify the birds of heaven with the agents of Satan of which we read in the parable of the Sower, and which have found a place in the imperial, formal, worldly systems which have assumed the name of Christian. Whatever the particular phases may be through which the visible Kingdom of God may pass, the purpose of Christ, in this parable, is to contrast its insignificant beginnings with its future growth; and for purposes of comparison he wisely selects a natural object which is proverbially small, but which can develop into a plant of astonishing size, until it becomes "greater than all the herbs." To this parable Mark appends the statement that the three which he has recorded are but samples of the many parables spoken by Jesus; and that the Master graciously adapted his teaching to the capacity of his followers "as they were able to hear it"; and further, that in teaching concerning the Kingdom he found it necessary to present the truth in the form of parables which he privately interpreted to his disciples. What a wonderful Teacher he was! What an Example for those who desire to proclaim his truth! How truly may we expect him, by his spirit, to reveal to those who meet with him in secret the mysteries of his grace! 7. Jesus Stills the Storm. Ch. 4:35-41
Jesus was a matchless Teacher; but in this Gospel he appears even more distinctly as the mighty Worker. Thus when Mark has recorded a group of pregnant parables he turns at once to relate a cycle of impressive miracles. These are four in number, and together they form a series which is climacteric and complete. First Jesus shows his power over the forces of nature, next over the demons of the spirit world, then over the ravages of disease, and finally over death. The first, then, of these miracles is the stilling of a storm. The long day of teaching is ending. "Even was come." The weary Teacher bids his disciples turn toward the opposite shore the bow of the little boat which he has been using as a pulpit. He wishes to escape from the crowds to the solitudes on the eastern side of the lake. There is no delay for preparation; "they take him with them, even as he was, in the boat"; and soon the Master, exhausted by his labors is "asleep on the cushion," "in the stern." Suddenly "there ariseth a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the boat, insomuch that the boat was now filling." Such storms were frequent on Galilee. Should we not pause at once to recall how frequent they are in the lives of Christians? To follow the Master does not mean "smooth sailing" always, or cloudless skies. Even when we are very near him, when no sin or doubt separates between, even then the tempests burst; circumstances seem against us; the waves threaten to engulf; the skies grow black. This could have been no usual storm. Those sturdy fisherman who were managing the boat for their Master had lived on that lake. They knew every mood of its fickle winds. Yet, even these men were in despair. They awoke Jesus, "and say unto him, Teacher, carest thou not that we perish?" Their appeal expressed the extremity of their fear, but it contained an implied rebuke: the Master did not care; he either did not know, or he was not concerned, about their peril. So we sometimes think, or even say. We really feel, in the overwhelming storm, that the loving Master is indifferent to our need. Even in such unbelief it is well to cry out to him for help. Their appeal indicated even more: it intimated a spirit of presumption. They seem to have assumed that the Master was neglecting his duty; that it was his obligation to protect them; that he was guilty of neglect, and that he must save them whether it was his desire or not. Thus closely in our own hearts doubt is united at times with a presumptuous demand. We come to the Master for help, but we seem to assume that his relief and deliverance are matters of debt and not of grace. We may supplicate the Master; we must not complain, we dare not reprove. "And he awoke, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm." What contrasts are pictured here! We see the human weariness of the sleeping Teacher; we hear the divine voice of the "Ruler of all Nature." He had power to rebuke the winds and waves; surely his Spirit can breathe peace to-day into the troubled soul, i Jesus not only rebuked the storm; he also rebuked his disciples. Tenderly, lovingly, none the less truly, he censured their faithless fear, "Why are ye fearful? have ye not yet faith?" There is a searching message in those words, "not yet." After all they had seen and heard, the disciples should have trusted the Master and should have believed themselves safe in his company. How much more reason for faith have we, who now know, not only the miracles of the Man of Galilee, but the continued marvels of a risen Lord! The closing sentence of the story contains a fine use of words. Jesus rebuked them for having feared; but when he had rebuked them, we read, "They feared exceedingly, and said one to another, Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?" They had been terrified by the storm; but now they gazed in wondering awe upon a Being whose power was so manifestly divine. Sometimes the deliverances wrought by our Lord so reveal his presence and power that his followers are more deeply moved than they were by the perils which threatened. Whether mastering the storm on the inland lake, or standing unseen in our midst to-day, he appears, to the eye of faith, clothed in divine energy and power, the mighty Servant, the wonder-working Son of God. 8. The Gerasene Demoniac. Ch. 5:1-20 1 And they came to the other side of the sea, into the country of the Gerasenes. 2 And when he was come out of the boat, straightway there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit, 3 who had his dwelling in the tombs: and no man could any more bind him, no, not with a chain; 4 because that he had been often bound with fetters and chains, and the chains had been rent asunder by him, and the fetters broken in pieces: and no man had strength to tame him. 5 And always, night and day, in the tombs and in the mountains, he was crying out, and cutting himself with stones. 6 And when he saw Jesus from afar, he ran and worshipped him; 7 and crying out with a loud voice, he saith. What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the Most High God? I adjure thee by God, torment me not. 8 For he said unto him. Come forth, thou unclean spirit, out of the man. 9 And he asked him. What is thy name? And he saith unto him, My name is Legion; for we are many. 10 And he besought him much that he would not send them away out of the country. 11 Now there was there on the mountain side a great herd of swine feeding. 12 And they besought him, saying, Send us into the swine, that we may enter into them. 13 And he gave them leave. And the unclean spirits came out, and entered into the swine: and the herd rushed down the steep into the sea, in number about two thousand; and they were drowned in the sea. 14 And they that fed them fled, and told it in the city, and in the country. And they came to see what it was that had come to pass. 15 And they come to Jesus, and behold him that was possessed with demons sitting, clothed and in his right mind, even him that had the legion: and they were afraid. 16 And they that saw it declared unto them how it befell him that was possessed with demons, and concerning the swine. 17 And they began to beseech him to depart from their borders. 18 And as he was entering into the boat, he that had been possessed with demons besought him that he might be with him. 19 And he suffered him not, but saith unto him, Go to thy house unto thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and how he had mercy on thee. 20 And he went his way, and began to publish in Decapolis how great things Jesus had done for him: and all men marvelled. Even Mark, the master painter, has given us few pictures which will compare with this in vividness and terror and majesty and power. The ministry of Jesus is marked by many cases of demon possession and their cure; but none is related with such detail and fullness as this of the pitiful man who meets our Lord as he lands with his disciples on the eastern shore of the lake. If the scene terrifies us by revealing dread forces of evil, much more should it inspire us by its vision of the omnipotent strength of Christ. The question is often raised as to just what Is meant by demon possession. Some claim that It Is merely a figurative expression for moral evil and depravity; others teach that It Is descriptive of physical or, more definitely, of mental disease and specifically of insanity. No other narrative shows more clearly that demon possession denotes the mysterious but real control of a human body and soul by actual spirits of supernatural power, cruel, satanic, malign. It was not merely a disordered brain which enabled this poor sufferer at once to recognize Jesus as the "Son of the Most High God"; It was not a "mental disease" that feared to be sent "out of the country," that Jesus commanded to come out of the man and permitted to enter into the herd of swine. This man who met Jesus in "the country of the Gerasenes" was not a maniac but a demoniac. Another question frequently asked is this: Do similar cases of demon possession occur In the present day? To this question conflicting replies are given. Eminent physicians, and missionaries from the Orient, report instances which seem to be exactly parallel to those recorded in the New Testament; other careful investigators believe that these modern symptoms can all be explained on the ground of mental derangement, and that actual demon possession is a phenomenon which belongs to the days of Christ, If the latter is true, it may explain why the demons so feared to be sent out of the country, and why they suggested that to be cast out of the man would hasten their "torment," as if their power of operation were limited to the locality and time of the earthly ministry of Christ. However these questions may be answered, there is no doubt that this narrative does bring us a solemn lesson of the destructive power of appetites and habits and passions by which men are controlled to-day; and further, reveals the redeeming, delivering power of Christ. Envy and lust and thirst for drink and worry and avarice and anger, all have power to bring upon their victims sufferings similar to those of the "man with an unclean spirit, who had his dwelling in the tombs." An irresistible power had seized his will and driven him from the dwellings of men into the dread regions of uncleanness and death; no chains could bind him, no force could subdue him; day and night his hideous cries echoed among the caverns of the rocky coast; insensible to pain he would gash his naked body with sharp pieces of broken stones; and, most pitiful of all, he was not wholly unconscious of his condition, but while longing to be free, he at the same time yielded his being to his demonic master; "he ran and worshipped " Jesus hoping for deliverance, while he cried out in defiance, hatred, and fear. Such, too, is the soul that is the slave of passion, helpless, desolate, unclean, beyond control, self-tortured, yearning for deliverance yet unwilling to be set free. The picture is as true as it is terrible, and it would repel us were it not for the form of Jesus which we see towering in divine majesty above the form of the sufferer. Even before the demon can object, Jesus has interpreted the act of worship, he has recognized the desire for help, and he has issued his imperial command: "Come forth, thou unclean spirit, out of the man." Deliverance is certain to follow, but before it is actually given, the demoniac is heard to cry: "What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the Most High God? I adjure thee by God, torment me not," Here is the most surprising feature of the picture, so far as the man is concerned; and here, on the part of Christ, is the most blessed intimation of the story. It is the same man whose body is bowed in adoration, petition, and faith, whose lips and tongue are voicing hatred, defiance, and fear; but Jesus has recognized the former, before the latter has been expressed; he has spoken the word of deliverance to a man who has not asked for release and whose lips continue to express a desire for bondage. Such a double personality, or such a conflict of desires, every one of us has experienced; we have longed for liberty at the very moment we have felt the power of some controlling passion. Some tell us that we must cease to love the sin before Christ will give us help; but is there not a different message here? Does it not appear that when we come to Christ for help, when we bow before him in faith, even before we speak, even while the old desire and appetite and lust are crying out for continued control, he sees the heart, he recognizes the longing, he gives the victory, he assures of relief and release? It is with the purpose of effecting the cure that the Master now asks the sufferer this question: "What is thy name?" He is addressing the real man; he is strengthening the consciousness of a self which is distinct from the dominating spirit; he Is, by the question, enabling the true soul to fortify itself, even in its thought, against the identification with the demon which so long has been almost complete. The reply is full of pathos. "My name is Legion; for we are many." The man had long been familiar with the dread instrument of Roman domination, the irresistible legion, and he thus vividly depicts his pitiable condition under the cruel control of the hosts of evil which have captured the sacred citadel of his soul. To realize our need, to confess our condition, is a certain step toward recovery of spiritual freedom. The man, however, is not yet delivered; in fact he asks Jesus for what he least desires; the demons are still in control: "He besought him much that he would not send them away out of the country." The actual deliverance comes when Jesus grants the further demonic request. "Now there was there on the mountain side a great herd of swine feeding. And they besought him, saying, Send us into the swine, that we may enter into them. And he gave them leave. And the unclean spirits came out, and entered into the swine: and the herd rushed down the steep into the sea, in number about two thousand; and they were drowned in the sea." That our Lord should even have permitted demons to destroy so much property has always given readers an occasion to express surprise and even criticism. Whatever may be the true explanation of the leave granted by Jesus, it will surely be related closely to his purpose of discomfiting the powers of evil and of securing the salvation of immortal souls. Thus, the demons were defeated in their design of finding an abiding place in the country by being allowed to have their own way with the swine; and further, in the permission granted them, it was suggested that a herd of swine was a place more fit for their habitation than was a human body or soul. So it is true that the evil passions which dominate men are usually less human than bestial in their nature. Then, too, the demoniac was relieved by the destruction of the swine, for the demons were so occupied with the thought of their new abode that in leaving the man they spared him the parting cruelties usually recorded in other cases of the dispossession of evil spirits; and, furthermore, when he saw the madness and death of the swine he realized more fully the fact and the greatness of his own deliverance. At least it is true of us that we understand more perfectly the grace of our Lord when we see the disasters wrought in other lives by the very passions from which, in his mercy, he has set us free. There may have been even a further motive in granting this permission to the demons. Jesus may have seen an opportunity of bringing a message to the men of the country. It was a startling and arresting message. It did involve the loss of some property, but it was calculated to arouse them to their peril and to announce to them their privilege. The destruction of the swine by demons was a warning that the country was infested by unclean spirits, and that no man was safe from their attack; but the power over the demons manifested by Christ was a sign that a Saviour was near. What was the loss of a herd of swine in comparison with the value of such a message? Even to his followers our Lord allows losses to come to warn them of their dangers and to draw them nearer to him; how truly, then, Jesus was justified in permitting the destruction of the swine if thereby was brought to the godless Gerasenes tidings of their peril and of his power to save. That such an incident was well calculated to arrest attention, and that the loss of property was to these men a matter of vital concern, is shown by the sequel; but it there appears that they are too blind to see their peril, too selfish to be saved; for, when the news is spread in the city and surrounding country, "they came to see what it was that had come to pass. And they come to Jesus, and behold him that was possessed with demons sitting, clothed and in his right mind, even him that had the legion: and they were afraid. And they that saw it declared unto them how it befell him that was possessed with demons, and concerning the swine. And they began to beseech him to depart from their borders." They really preferred their swine to the Saviour; they thought more of the loss they had sustained than of the soul that had been saved; in the presence of the Lord they "were afraid," but they felt neither trust nor love; in their confidence and their self-content they had less affinity for Jesus than had the demoniac while he was still howling and naked among the tombs. The tragedy is being repeated to-day; there are many who feel only terror in the presence of the Lord; they reject his messages; they "beseech him to depart"; they fear his fellowship may occasion some social, or financial, or personal loss; they are farther from heaven than the poor pariah they despise as a hopeless slave of passion; seeking to save their possessions they lose their souls. Jesus immediately grants these Gerasenes their request; he never stayed where he was an unwelcome guest; but as he departs he denies a request to the man he has healed. "As he was entering into the boat, he that had been possessed with demons besought him that he might be with him. And he suffered him not, but saith unto him, Go to thy house unto thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and how he had mercy on thee." The man was moved by fear lest the demons might return; he felt he would be safe only in the presence of Jesus; he was further moved by gratitude and love to offer his service to his Lord. He showed his sincerity by his obedience. "And he went his way, and began to publish in Decapolis how great things Jesus had done for him: and all men marvelled." Jesus can judge where testimony for him will be most valuable; he will select for us our place of service; it will be usually at home among our friends, but often it will be on some lonely coast where the multitudes neither know nor love him. We shall be safe even though we cannot see him; his unseen presence and power will abide; the surest safeguard against the return of demons is active service for Christ; the best proof of our devotion is our faithful witness to the "great things the Lord hath done." 9. The Raising of the Daughter of Jairus, and the Healing of the Woman with an Issue of Blood. Ch. 5:21-43
The Gerasenes have besought Jesus "to depart from their borders," but as he crosses the sea and lands near to Capernaum, great multitudes are ready to welcome him. As in every throng of women and men, there are hearts torn by anxiety and bodies weak with pain; but, where there is faith in him, our Lord is ever ready and willing to relieve and to heal. This ceaseless ministry of love depicted by Mark should be a source of assurance to every needy, weary trusting soul. The first to force his way through the crowd into the presence of Jesus, is a man named Jairus; he has come to ask the Master to heal his daughter, who, even while they are going to the home, is reported to be dead. The second person to come for help is a poor woman who for years has been suffering from disease; as the Saviour is passing, she touches the border of his garment and is at once healed. The incidents of these two miracles are so interwoven in the narrative as to form practically one story; they may be viewed, however, as forming companion pictures, presenting striking contrasts, but both illustrating the di\'ine power of Christ and his readiness to respond to the appeal of faith. Jairus is a man of prominence in the community, "one of the rulers of the synagogue," a person of comparative wealth and power and social position, and for twelve years his home has been brightened by the presence of a little daughter, an only child. The woman is poor, weak, ceremonially unclean, friendless, unknown, and for twelve years her life has been darkened by continual suffering and disease. Both, however, are brought to Jesus by the consciousness of desperate need. Jairus realizes that no human help can avail. He presents a pitiful picture as he falls at the feet of Jesus in an agony of entreaty, crying out, "My little daughter is at the point of death: I pray thee, that thou come and lay thy hands on her, that she may be made whole, and live." The condition of the woman is likewise hopeless; it is described by Mark with possibly a touch of satire as he says that she "had suffered many things of many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse." Surely no physician of that day and place could save her wasting life; but she had heard of the power of Jesus, and secretly watching for an opportunity, she "came in the crowd behind, and touched his garment. For she said. If I touch but his garments, I shall be made whole." Her faith is imperfect; she seems to think that the power of Jesus is magical and mechanical, that there is no need of his knowing her or of his thinking of her, that she need make no request for help or express gratitude for relief. Her faith is imperfect, but it is sincere; and Jesus makes an immediate response to her timid touch, "and straightway . . . she felt in her body that she was healed of her plague." Possibly the most reassuring feature of the story is just here. Our Lord does not wait until we have a perfect knowledge of him or his way of working; when we feel our helplessness and come to him for healing he never withholds his help. Jesus, however, always desires to perfect the faith of those who trust him. His healing results ever in a fuller knowledge and in a deepening love. Thus he shows this woman that her cure is due to no mere involuntary outflow of divine grace, and that the full blessing of faith results only when a believer openly confesses Jesus as the Saviour. He perceives the touch of her trembling fingers; he distinguishes it from the press of the jostling crowd; he recognizes it as a mute appeal for help; he gives the relief which the suppliant craves, and then, for the sake of the woman, he asks who has touched him, and looks round about "to see her that had done this thing." The woman who has already perceived his divine power, now realizes his divine knowledge, and as she comes and acknowledges her trust and her cure, she learns his divine love, for she hears him say, "Daughter, thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace, and be whole of thy plague." Thus she found what all who will openly confess Christ may find, a new assurance of his saving power and that rest of soul which issues from accepting his gracious word, "Go in peace." The faith of Jairus is likewise imperfect. It is more intelligent than the faith of the woman, but it falls short of that revealed by the centurion, in the same city, who felt it unnecessary for Jesus to come to his house but only to speak a word and the cure would be effected. Nevertheless the faith is genuine, and so Jesus strengthens it and rewards it. The very fact that Jesus at once starts toward the house is reassuring to the anxious father. His faith is tested by the delay occasioned by the cure of the woman, yet it is also thereby strengthened as he sees this proof of divine wisdom and power. Most severely is his faith tested by the startling message which then reaches him: "Thy daughter is dead: why troublest thou the Teacher any further?" That word was enough to quench the hope of the most ardent believer; "but Jesus, not heeding the word spoken, saith unto the ruler of the synagogue, Fear not, only believe." Thus is faith strengthened, and soon it receives its marvelous reward. Jesus insists that the crowd shall no longer follow him; he allows only three of his disciples to accompany him, and thus he enters the house of death. He finds it a scene of wild despair. Hired mourners are present to express the hopelessness of grief by a tumult of weeping and wailing. When Jesus has entered in "he saith unto them, Why make ye a tumult, and weep? the child is not dead, but sleepeth. And they laughed him to scorn." The word of Jesus was a rebuke to unbelief; it is a message for us in our hours of bereavement. He did not mean that the little girl was not dead, but that in view of her certain return to life, in view of his present power and purpose, her experience did not deserve the name of death. He was only anticipating that blessed word to Martha at the tomb of Lazarus: "Whosoever liveth and belie veth on me shall never die." Then with only the parents and his three disciples Jesus enters the room. He will not have the little maiden terrified by the sight of a throng of strangers. Such was the exquisite tenderness and thoughtfulness which characterized his every act. "Taking the child by the hand, he saith unto her, . . . Damsel I say unto thee, Arise. And straightway the damsel rose up, and walked; . . . and he commanded that something should be given her to eat." This command was absolutely necessary for the comfort of the little girl; but it broke for the parents the spell of awe and terror which the presence of death had cast upon them; and it was a proof, not only of the return of life, but of a complete recovery from disease. Another command of our Lord is recorded: "He charged them much that no man should know this," for he feared lest so amazing a miracle might occasion an outburst of excitement so great as to interrupt his work and to precipitate a crisis before his earthly ministry was complete. It was indeed a startling marvel, and forms a fitting climax to the four miracles which Mark has here united. First, Jesus stilled the tempest and thus gave assurance of his power in the world of nature; then he overcame the demons, and demonstrated his authority in the unseen realm of spirits; then he healed the woman who came to him in faith, and illustrated his willingness to heal not only our bodies but our sin-sick souls; and lastly, he brought back to life the dead daughter of the believing ruler, and revealed his power over death, and his ability to bestow, even to the most hopeless, the life which is eternal. By such marvelous ministries Mark presents to us Jesus as the divine Servant, the wonder-working Son of God. 10. Jesus Rejected at Nazareth. Ch. 6:1-6
The first period of Jesus' public ministry closed with the plot formed against his life by the Pharisees and Herodians and his temporary withdrawal from Capernaum. The second period ends with his rejection by his own townsmen at Nazareth. Both periods were marked by a great popularity among the people, which throws into more bold relief the hatred of the rulers and the jealous unbelief of former associates and friends in the town where he had been brought up. The contrast of his experience in Nazareth with that which he found elsewhere is even further heightened by the fact that he had just completed a series of astounding miracles: stilling a storm, healing a demoniac, conquering incurable disease, raising the dead. Such works resulted in an imperfect but almost universal faith in Jesus, so that multitudes were healed by him; but when he returned to Nazareth he found such marvelous unbelief that "he could there do no mighty work." It is indeed a pathetic story. Once before, at the very beginning of his ministry, Jesus had been rejected by those who knew him best and had been compelled to flee from Nazareth; but now, with his fame established, with his teachings widely accepted, with the wonder of his miracles on every lip, he returned to the little town which for thirty years had been his home; he went to the synagogue and taught; his neighbors recognized his wisdom, they recalled the fact of his miracles; but they denied his claims, they refused his message, they declined his proffered healing, "they were offended in him." The message of this sad scene is summarized by a saying of our Lord which he used on three different occasions and which has since become proverbial: "A prophet is not without honor, save in his own country, and among his own kin, and in his own house." We all recognize the truth of the proverb, but what is its underlying principle, and how does it apply to our own lives? First of all, a prophet is without honor in his own country because he is so well known. "Familiarity breeds contempt." It should not, in the case of a real prophet. In case one has foibles and weaknesses such contempt is excusable; but that familiarity with Jesus made men reject him is a sad commentary on human nature. His companions argued that if he were really the Messiah, and possessed such divine powers as were reported, it would have been manifest earlier in life when he still lived with them. It is hard for men to believe in the surpassing greatness of one who has been regarded as their equal during his boyhood days and early manhood. Jealousy and prejudice blind their eyes. It is tragic, however, to find men to-day refusing to follow Christ because they have become so familiar with his claims, so hardened to his gospel. A second reason why "a prophet is not without honor, save in his own country" is found in the false standards of judgments by which we estimate greatness. The men of Nazareth were expecting a Messiah who would appear with regal display and kingly power; they could not accept as their Messiah a "carpenter." Yet that "carpenter" had demonstrated his power, he had authenticated his claims, he was yet to assume the place of universal rule. Their prejudice as to what a Messiah should be, kept them from honoring the true Messiah when he appeared. So, to-day, false standards of greatness and worth blind us to the real merits and loveliness of those in our own homes; and the sinless humanity of Jesus blinds some men to his attested deity. The chief reason why a prophet is without honor is that he is really unknown. Jesus was not rejected at Nazareth because he was so well known, but because men thought they knew him, while actually they were most ignorant of his real person and mission. They judged by mere externals and accidents: they knew his mother, his brothers, his sisters, his carpenter shop; they did not know him. Had they known him they would have loved him. Too frequently is this true in human experience. Herein lies the remorse of memory. We see that the day has been golden only when the shadows have fallen; we recognize that our friend was precious and lovely only when the separation has come. So with Jesus. Men think they know him because they have attended a church, or have met some of his followers; but him they do not know. If they knew him they could not fail to follow and trust him. The real pathos of the story is expressed in the words which follow the proverb: "He could there do no mighty work." This is the pity of it all. Where appreciation and love are lacking there our friends cannot be, and there we cannot do what otherwise would be possible; where faith is lacking, there Christ, however near, however powerful, cannot, will not, do any mighty work. "He marvelled because of their unbelief," but he did not remain among them. "He went round about the villages teaching." Other places would welcome him, other souls would be saved, but not those who had known him longest, not those who foolishly imagined that they knew him best. C. THE THIRD PERIOD. Chs. 6:7 to 7:23 1. The Mission of the Twelve. Ch. 6:7-13
The first period of our Lord's ministry in eastern Galilee opened with the call of four disciples, the second period opened with the choice of twelve apostles, the third period opens with the mission of the Twelve. Each period had been marked by a wide popularity among the people but also by a contrasted hatred and unbelief. Jesus saw the multitudes who wished to receive his message and his healing; he also was conscious of the rising opposition which soon would end his brief ministry. Therefore, when he had been rejected by his fellow townsmen in Nazareth, he sent forth his twelve apostles that they might extend his work and might be trained to continue it after his departure. They had of course already been of service to Jesus, but this is their first definite mission. Most of the features in this brief narrative are purely local and temporary, yet it contains intimations of principles which apply to missionary service in all lands and in every age. "He . . . began to send them forth by two and two," for thus they could cover a wider territory than by going in a company, and thus the individual worker would be cheered and helped in his work and his testimony would be strengthened and confirmed. Wise missionary strategy, to-day, has a regard both to too great concentration of forces and also to the peril of too far isolating the workers. Power is increased by companionship and counsel and cooperation. They were commissioned to work miracles of healing and to preach. Of the former Mark specifies the one which to him was typical: "he gave them authority over the unclean spirits." As to-day, ministries of healing and of help would manifest the spirit of Christ, would open the way for the message, and confirm it in the minds of the people. The special instructions given to the Twelve were practical and were not intended to express poverty or to entail special hardship. They were such as an oriental peasant might observe to-day if sent on a short and important mission. They were not to delay for extensive preparation, they were not to be burdened by needless equipment, they were to expect entertainment from those to whom they preached the gospel and brought relief. True messengers of Christ should always be prompt and ready in their service, they should not be unduly encumbered by the affairs of this world, and they should expect reasonable support in their work. The apostles were enjoined to practice contentment with their entertainment: "Wheresoever ye enter into a house, there abide till ye depart thence." If, on the other hand, no hospitality was extended to them they were openly to testify that failure to receive them was an insult to their Master and that they regarded the offenders as unworthy of their presence and even the dust of the place defiling. This is what Jesus meant by the command: "And whatsoever place shall not receive you, and they hear you not, as ye go forth thence, shake off the dust that is under your feet for a testimony unto them." It is always a serious responsibility to reject the messengers of Christ and to refuse to listen to his truth. Whatever the personal defects of his witnesses, they represent a divine Lord, and one who is indifferent to their testimony and mission is self-condemned. As to the details of this first mission little Is recorded. Mark tells us that the burden of the preaching was a call to repentance, and that the message was enforced by actual miracles: "They went out and preached that men should repent. And they cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many that were sick, and healed them." This anointing with oil is not again mentioned in the gospel narrative. Oil was, however, a familiar remedy in the East, and its use would be significant in the case of these miraculous cures. It was, further, a symbol of the Holy Spirit and may remind us of the spiritual healing which ever accompanies the preaching of the gospel of repentance and faith in Christ. 2. The Death of John the Baptist. Ch. 6:14-29
The story of the death of John, the great Baptizer, is introduced at this point with what might be called artistic fitness. It had really occurred some time before, but it is properly connected both with the popularity and the peril of Jesus which mark this closing period of his ministry in eastern Galilee. It emphasizes his peril, for the murder of his great herald, by the hand of the cruel king, was to Jesus a true portent of his own approaching death. It is, however, in more direct connection with the popularity of Jesus that the story is here told. When the surprising miracles wrought by the twelve apostles were spreading the fame of Jesus ever more widely through the land, the tidings reached King Herod, who conjectured that such supernatural deeds could be accounted for only on the ground that Jesus was one who had returned from the unseen world, bringing with him its superhuman powers. "King Herod heard thereof; for his name had become known: and he said, John the Baptizer is risen from the dead, and therefore do these powers work in him." It was the awakened conscience of the king which caused him to form this curious conjecture. There had been a time when the voice of John was to the guilty king like the very voice of God; but Herod had murdered the great prophet, and now that he is startled by the reported miracles of Jesus, it is not unnatural that he ascribes them, in his terror, to the one person whom he had regarded with reverence and with awe. Other suggestions, somewhat similar, were being made by those who learned of the wonders wrought by Christ: some said, "It is Elijah. And others said, It is a prophet, even as one of the prophets. But Herod, when he heard thereof, said, John, whom I beheaded, he is risen." To account for this conjecture of the king, Mark relates the foul crime, the memory of which haunted the mind of Herod. The story is merely a parenthesis in the gospel narrative, but it is a dramatic recital, and is of great practical value as embodying a study in the operation of conscience. First of all is the picture of a troubled conscience, and of a man who was too weak to obey its bidding. Herod had contracted an unlawful marriage with Herodias, his brother Philip's wife. John had boldly rebuked him for his sin. Prompted by Herodias, Herod had cast John into prison, but he had been impressed by the zeal and holiness of the prophet, and even listened gladly to his solemn, impassioned appeals. He recognized his sin, but he was dominated by its power. He was touched by the picture of purity which John painted, but he lacked strength to break the shackles which bound him. He possibly tried to appease his conscience by the fact that he was keeping John alive in spite of the murderous hate of Herodias. However, like every man who is living contrary to what he knows to be right, Herod "was much perplexed." It is the familiar picture of one who temporizes and hesitates. The moral character grows only weaker the longer the delay. It is even a dangerous symptom when one, who lives in sin, enjoys the emotions started by messages of holiness and virtue. To continue in sin contrary to the light and against the warnings of conscience is ever to prepare the way for a fatal fall, or for an irrevocable choice which leads to ruin. Such is the experience of Herod. All that is lacking now is the opportunity. When the circumstances are right the Tempter will win the victory for which he has long been preparing. It is the birthday of the king. A great supper has been made for his lords and high captains and chief men. Then "when the daughter of Herodias herself came in and danced, she pleased Herod and them that sat at meat with him, and the king said unto the damsel. Ask of me whatsoever thou wilt, and I will give it thee." The dance was in itself disgraceful and could properly have been executed by no person of royal rank or even of repute, This Mark indicates by the phrase he uses when he says, "the daughter of Herodias herself came in and danced." It is part of a foul conspiracy. The king is entrapped. The request, at the suggestion of Herodias, is quickly made, 'T will that thou forthwith give me on a platter the head of John the Baptist." We read that "the king was exceeding sorry; but for the sake of his oaths, and of them that sat at meat, he would not reject her." He sends forth a soldier of the guard, who goes and beheads John in prison. It is a horrid crime, and is contrary to the conscience of the king. He who long has disobeyed the inner voice, is now helpless in the hour of severe temptation. It is the sad picture of a violated conscience; and as Mark introduces the story, it tells us how conscience when so abused, even though long silent, is certain to be suddenly aroused, and to scourge the guilty soul with stings of hopeless remorse. While John was living, there was opportunity for the king to repent. When the king had given the order for the death of the innocent prophet, repentance was impossible. The irrevocable step had been taken, and never again could the king have perfect peace. Each strange experience, each striking event, was like a solemn portent, and awoke in the king nameless fear. Thus the very report of the power of Christ, which brought hope to countless souls, awakened in the king nothing but terror and dread. Thus, too, it will be those who long disobey the voice of conscience, who finally fall in the hour of' more serious temptation, who henceforth are haunted by self-reproach and ceaseless regret. For them the name and the messages and the coming of Christ are only causes for fear, distress, and despair. 3. The Feeding of the Five Thousand. Ch. 6:30-44
The miracles of "the twelve," which had caused terror to Herod, produced widespread wonder and curiosity among the people; so that as the disciples returned to Capernaum, to report their work to the Master, they were themselves objects of such popular interest that they were thronged by the multitudes and "had no leisure so much as to eat." The weary messengers had just returned from their first missionary tour, and it is noticeable that they are here first called the "apostles." To them Jesus gave an invitation which brings its message to every follower of Christ, whatever his name or task. "Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest a while." Periods of quiet retirement, when we can be alone with the Lord, or can meet him in company with a few chosen companions, afford needed preparation for successful service. "They went away in a boat to a desert place apart." They seem to have crossed to the northeastern shore of the lake; but their rest was soon disturbed. The crowds learned where Jesus was to be found "and they ran together there on foot from all the cities." However, Jesus was not irritated or annoyed by the intrusion. The multitudes stirred his compassion "because they were as sheep not having a shepherd." They were looking for guidance, and really hungering for spiritual truth; the professional teachers of formal religion had not satisfied them; John was dead; they were conscious of a great need which Jesus seemed able to supply. Their faith was imperfect, their hopes indefinite, but Jesus gladly responded to their appeal. "He began to teach them many things." To those whose eyes have been opened, the world, to-day, is like the multitudes of old, hungering for some word of divine certitude and comfort and power. Hearts which Jesus has touched are burdened with compassion for the throngs who are "as sheep not having a shepherd." As the day of teaching draws to its close Jesus performs a miracle which was designed to teach that the message needed by the world concerns himself, that he is in reality the Bread of Life. The occasion of the miracle is the hunger of the crowds, and the first motive of Jesus is his pity for their physical need, but he uses the opportunity to give a matchless message of his ability to satisfy the hunger of the soul. When the disciples ask him to send the crowd away to buy themselves food, Jesus startles them by the command: "Give ye them to eat." In reply they state their inability to furnish such a supply of food. He bids them learn exactly how many loaves they have. "And when they knew, they say, Five, and two fishes." This was all; yet when the Saviour commands and blesses, the meager resources of his servants are ever found adequate. Their conscious helplessness is frequently the time of his greatest power. Some faith, however imperfect, must have been awakened in the minds of the disciples by the words of the Master, and some must have been aroused in the multitudes as he commanded them all to be seated in companies on the green grass; but it would be difficult to measure their astonishment when, by the power of Jesus, the loaves and the fishes were so multiplied that they more than sufficed to feed the multitude of five thousand men. It was a deed of compassion, it was a miracle of power, but it was also a message of divine import. Jesus really performed an act of creation; it was the greatest wonder he had worked in the presence of the multitude; so, too, its meaning was of deepest significance. His ministry was drawing to a close; the death of John was a portent of his own coming crucifixion; it was passover season, as the other writers declare, and as Mark indicates by his picturesque mention of the "green grass," on which the multitudes sat in "companies" or "garden plats"; on another passover, Jesus was to suffer; but his body was to be broken for the life of the world; all who trusted in him should hunger no more, all who believed in him should have eternal life. So Jesus interpreted his own miracle. The crowds could not understand, but through all the ages his followers have found in this scene inspiration and guidance and hope. The world in its weariness and hunger and spiritual need is like the multitude in the wilderness. Christ alone can save; but his disciples can bring to dying souls the messages of his power and love, and those who receive live. 4. Jesus Walks on the Water. Ch. 6:45-52
When Jesus was interrupted in his hours of retirement and spiritual communion he was never irritated; nor yet did he feel that the unexpected task was a substitute for the needed refreshment. So when the multitude intruded upon the period of rest which Jesus had designed for himself and his disciples, he patiently taught them during the day, but then he dismissed them and withdrew to the mountain solitudes to spend the whole night in prayer. So with the disciples: they may have been disappointed in their expectations of secret fellowship with Jesus, but the very interruption gave them opportunities to know their Lord better than they had ever known him before. For those who are patient, plans unexpectedly altered often bring new revelations of the person and power of Christ. This power the Twelve saw revealed as Jesus fed the five thousand who had broken into their place of seclusion on the east side of the sea; and as, in obedience to Christ, they leave him and attempt to row back to the western coast, they are given a new and startling conception of his divine person. They have found themselves opposed by a rising wind which grows even more fierce as the long night wears slowly away. In eight hours they have not made three miles. In their anxiety and weariness and discouragement Jesus suddenly appears, "walking on the sea"; they cry out in terror but he speaks the word of comfort: "Be of good cheer: it is I; be not afraid. And he went up unto them into the boat; and the wind ceased." From some points of view this miracle was more startling than the feeding of the multitude; ever after, the disciples must have held a different conception of their Lord, as a being who was more than man, however difficult it was to define his nature. As the bread given to the multitude pictured his broken body and prepared his followers to understand his death, may not those writers be correct who suggest that this walking on the water made the disciples more ready to comprehend or to believe the mysteries of the resurrection and the unseen presence of Christ? Surely it is well to accept the message which is most commonly taught, that in this striking scene we are reminded how truly our Lord is with us in the tempests and struggles of life, possibly nearest when our courage has gone and our terror is greatest; he may be manifest in the very sight we most dread, but he will surely bring calm and soon we shall be in the haven of rest. So, too, we may dwell with comfort on the suggestion that our Lord, who is now on high interceding for us, will some day appear again; even now he may be drawing near; over all the turmoil and distress of nations he may be making his majestic approach, and when he appears the night will end and all the storms will cease. Possibly it is only poetic fancy which has led men thus to paint spiritual reality and prophetic truth in colors borrowed from this gospel story; the miracle was undoubtedly performed to relieve the disciples from fear and danger and to give them ground for a larger trust in Jesus. They were indeed impressed beyond measure by this new sign of divine power; but Mark intimates that they were slow to learn and needed many such lessons. They should not have been so surprised; they should have expected such powers in a divine Lord. After Jesus had fed five thousand with a few loaves and fishes, after he had thus shown himself Lord of nature, they should not have so wondered that he could walk on the waves; but "they were sore amazed in themselves; for they understood not concerning the loaves, but their heart was hardened." Are his followers to-day ready to believe all that can be done for them and for the world by a risen and ascended Christ? 5. The Ministry at Gennesaret. Ch. 6:53-56
However slow to understand our Lord the disciples may have been, the multitudes were ready to believe him. Their faith was less intelligent but it was no less real. A vivid picture of this ready, eager trust is sketched by Mark as Jesus lands with his disciples south of Capernaum, just after he has walked on the water and stilled the storm. "And when they were come out of the boat, straightway the people knew him . . . and began to carry about on their beds those that were sick, where they heard he was . . . and besought him that they might touch . . . the border of his garment: and as many as touched him were made whole." Our Lord expects his followers to have an ever more and more perfect knowledge of him; but he responds in grace to the simplest faith, and even the trust which but touches the border of his garment is enough to secure healing and life. 6. Jesus Rebukes the Pharisees. Ch. 7:1-23
The first period of Jesus' public ministry in eastern Galilee revealed a striking contrast between the sudden popularity with the masses and the growing opposition of the religious leaders. The second period of this ministry was marked by the same popularity, and it closed with the rejection of Jesus by his townsmen in Nazareth. The third period found the popular confidence in Christ at its very height, but as it draws to its close it is made memorable by a bitter attack upon Jesus by the Pharisees and other leaders who have come from Jerusalem for the purpose of opposing him. The charge which they preferred against Jesus was that "his disciples ate their bread with defiled, that is, unwashen, hands." The objection did not mean that the followers of Jesus ate with hands which were physically unclean. It meant that these disciples had neglected the ceremonial washings which were required by Jewish traditions. These traditions consisted in the collected interpretations of the Old Testament Law, which had been given by the rabbis. To the mind of the Pharisees they had come to be of more importance and authority than the very words of God. To neglect these requirements was, to these old formalists, the most serious of sins. The charge gave to our Lord an opportunity not only to rebuke the Pharisees, but to rebuke all formalism in religion, and to show the essential difference between that which is spiritual and that which is material, between the real purity of the soul and mere conformity to the requirements of man. In rebuking the Pharisees our Lord charges them with being hypocrites and quotes, in reference to them, the words of Isaiah, in which the prophet describes men of similar character who made much of external observances while they were indifferent to the stains and sins of their own souls. "Well did Isaiah prophesy of you hypocrites, as it is written, This people honoreth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. But in vain do they worship me, teaching as their doctrines the precepts of men." It is in this very matter of obedience to the precepts of men that Jesus now proceeds to convict the Pharisees of sin. They had accused the disciples, and so by implication had accused Jesus, of acting contrary to a human tradition. Jesus shows that in obeying a tradition of men they had broken the law of God. The instance which he cites was the best possible example of the hypocrisy of the Pharisees and of the fallacy of formalism. According to the law of God one should honor his father and mother; he should care for them and provide for their needs. According to an accepted tradition, however, if one should pronounce over any property the word, "Corban," which means a "gift," this property would be regarded as dedicated to God; but the tradition further provided that, while the property could not then be given to any other person, it could be used by its owner for his personal gratification and delight. Thus it became possible for a man to allow his parents to suffer while he was himself possessed of wealth. He could thus be keeping a tradition, which related to mere external form relative to religious gifts, while at the same time he was breaking one of the Ten Commandments and violating the fundamental law of love. Thus clearly does Jesus convict the Pharisees, and at the same time shows the peril of being content with outward observances while the heart is full of selfishness and sin. At this juncture Jesus calls to him the multitude and, in their presence, proclaims a truth which is to the Pharisees a veritable challenge, and is so revolutionary and so far-reaching that it results in a final breach between our Lord and the religious leaders of the Jews. The statement seems simple in itself, "There is nothing from without the man, that going into him can defile him; but the things which proceed out of the man are those which defile the man." The disciples seem to have realized that the words contained a meaning deeper than lay upon the surface, and were more far-reaching than at first appeared. Jesus, however, rebukes them for their dullness of apprehension and for failing to appreciate that in which uncleanness really consists. He proceeds to explain, however, most clearly, that real uncleanness is not a matter of the body but of the spirit, or only of the body as directed by the spirit. The only actual defilement is that of the soul. A man is not defiled by that which enters into his mouth, but by that which proceeds from his heart. A man cannot be polluted by eating that which is ceremonially unclean, but only by thinking and doing that which is morally impure. In recording these statements, Mark adds that by this saying Jesus was "making all meats clean." He does not mean that the ceremonial law was absolutely abrogated by the simple but startling statements of our Lord. He means that the Master was making plain the distinction between ceremony and reality, between form and fact, between external and internal purity. He does indicate, however, that the real understanding of these teachings shows the ceremonial law to be temporary, and prepares the way for abolishing this law when men shall have learned its true meaning. Thus it was that Jesus anticipated the final passing of Judaism, and thus he insisted that all religion is a matter of the heart and not of external form, that it is a relation to God and not the observance of a ceremonial, that it is a cleansing of the spirit and not a washing of the hands. These plain teachings have been needed in every age of the world. They may seem obvious to most Christians of the present day. To the Pharisees, however, they came as a stern rebuke. They ran counter to the most sacred traditions of the sect. They disclosed the hypocrisy and formalism of these proud and confident ritualists. They were a defiance of the Jewish religious leaders. No wonder that Jesus found it necessary to leave Galilee, and to withdraw to the Gentile territory near Tyre and Sidon.
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