Sally A. Brown, Professor Emerita, Princeton Theological Seminary
Mark 1:1, the opening verse of today’s lection (Mk 1:1-8), is not a complete sentence, but a title. It sounds benign enough in English translation; but interpreters of Mark’s gospel suggest that, considered within the context of its Hellenic linguistic and political context, this is a provocative opening indeed. First, “anointed one” [Heb. meshiach] and “son of [the] gods” are titles associated in antiquity with Rome’s emperors. Second, in annals of the achievements of Rome’s emperors, euangelion refers specifically to a military victory, its rewards, or the peace and prosperity that follows victory in battle.
When we take into account this background, Mark’s title sounds more like an Empire-challenging announcement: “the beginning [arche] of the victory of Jesus, anointed Son of God.” The fact that Mark’s gospel probably emerged only a few years before the Jewish uprising that led to Rome’s destruction of the Temple in 70 CE lends weight to this reading. Moreover, such a reading comports with the character of Mark’s gospel as a whole. More than any other evangelist, Mark portrays Jesus engaged in life-and-death struggle with demons, with Rome, and those Temple leaders allied with Rome.*
Jesus himself does not appear in Mark’s first eight verses. Before bringing Jesus into his narrative, Mark backs up his bold opening salvo with appeals to OT prophecy and the witness of John the Baptist, both weighty authorities for his readers. Although Mark cites Isaiah, the actual OT sources of the well-known announcement of vv 2-3 are broader—Ex 23:20; Mal 3:1, and Is 40:31. John the Baptist of the wilderness is linked to the revered Elijah by details of his clothing and diet. John the Baptist is known, revered, and mourned when Mark writes. John, murdered by one of Rome’s henchman, Herod, is portrayed as preparer of the way of “the Lord.” This, too, is a tension-charged, potentially treasonous term. (Soon, insisting that Jesus, not Caesar, is “Lord” will send many Christians to prison and to death.)
That John refers to Jesus as “one mightier than I, the thongs of whose sandals I am not fit to untie” (the task of the lowliest of household servants) further underscores Jesus’ stature. Yet this gospel, as it unfolds, will seem to undermine John’s accolade. Jesus will be dismissed as a tool of Satan, condemned by Jewish elites, and crucified by Rome. This gospel’s ending will leave us with an empty tomb, but no resurrection. The very women who, in Luke, first announce that Jesus is alive remain silent in Mark.
Preaching the opening verses of Mark means announcing both a victory already won and a battle still in progress. This message could not be more a propos in a time like ours, ablaze with wars and toxic social and political division. Today’s text calls for sermons unafraid to acknowledge the battle, yet daring to announce victory in the name of the paradoxically crucified, yet undefeated, Lord. We struggle still against powers that gain ascendancy through violent intimidation and shrewd deception. Even if pursued in God’s name, these are not the strategies of “Jesus the anointed Son of God.” Jesus is a “Lord” who does not rule by terror and threat. The signature tool of Jesus’ fight is love that risks life itself for the sake of society’s most marginalized—refugees and others who are blamed for society’s ills on the basis of their skin color, heritage or native language. Jesus does not answer violence with violence, but absorbs it into himself and ultimately overcomes it. Perhaps Mark’s ending is not missing after all; it is his beginning—”the victory of Jesus the anointed one, Son of God.” The story of this victory is open-ended. The battle is still raging, even in our time, but we know the final scene. Arrogant powers that rule by threat and deception are losing their grip, overcome by Jesus’ inextinguishable love and unending life.
Insights into Biblical Greek Grammar and Syntax 