After a couple of weeks of call stories, we now jump into a short story that is packed with Jesusy goodness.
This story arrives like a shallow bucket and a deep well. There is so much depth here, but it can also come off as a simple little healing story. So how we enter into it can really depend on how we expect to read about Jesus.
If you are one that needs to hear about people jumping on the Jesus Train and can appreciate a little dig at the scribes along the way, this passage is a feel-good vibe.
Or if you’re one who is down for the powerful Jesus, casting out demons and throwing down with authority, then this is definitely your jam.
And if you’re an analytical sort who likes a comfortable faith in a decent man from the Middle East, you’re probably bored and ready to move on already.
But if you want to dig into expectations, identity, and what Jesus is really showing these people, then this is the passage you’ve been waiting for.
Authority
The way we use the word authority today is as a synonym for power. We give it a slight twist, however, and use it as a kind of power. Much like intelligence and wisdom are different kinds of “smart”.
We tend to think of authority as coming from status or position. And maintaining that elevated stature helps us maintain our authority. An example of this is “moral authority”.
This also shows the sense that authority is a softer power. A police officer has the authority to pull you over. And if you don’t, they have the power to arrest you.
When we read that the people in the synagogue are impressed with Jesus, they say that he doesn’t just know his stuff, he teaches “with authority.” This implies that, unlike the scribes who also know their stuff, they see Jesus as really getting it. Getting, not just what God is into, but really lives it.
To hazard a comparison, I might think of some good faithful people, who have had many different clergy and scholars come through and teach them. Maybe some of the biggest names in New Testament studies. And then Bishop Desmond Tutu shows up and they go That guy knows Jesus.
Bishop Tutu had that kind of authority. Not just because he lived through some of the scariest times, but he would laugh and make everyone around him feel loved.
Then, when Jesus exorcizes the demon, the people name this, too as teaching and representative of Jesus’s authority.
Demons
One of the most critical and under-utilized points of contact for readers in Mark is that the people consistently underestimate Jesus; and the demons totally get him. They know who he is.
This story is the reader’s first encounter with this dynamic and sets us up to see it play out over the next several chapters.
Many of us have seen too many scary movies, so the tropes of demonic spirits howling at the merest contact with anyone or thing that is good or holy come easily. And I suspect these don’t serve us well here.
Similarly, the modernist thinker can’t tolerate the concept of demons or demon possession. They are too busy trying to recast the demonic as Tourette’s or another mental illness.
Demons in the gospel of Mark seem more like a potent foil for the relatively clueless normal people. Particularly those coming to Jesus for healing or following him as disciples.
The people who know Jesus best can’t bring themselves to truly believe that Jesus is the Messiah. But demons know it from the beginning. And they attempt to bargain with him to avoid their fate.
This says a lot more to me about me than it does about a spirit world, forces of evil, or any other conviction. Because it shows how much more likely we all are to not believe in the scope of Jesus’s ministry than we are to right-size our belief.
The First Look
Lastly, this is really the world’s first look at Jesus. He is seven chapters from being called the Messiah. And before that, he will blow people’s minds over and over again.
There is no question that this is my favorite stuff in Mark. That Jesus does junk and people can’t handle it. And I don’t mean that they’re excited and pumped. I mean, they’re scared and not sure what they’ve gotten themselves into.
Over and over again, Jesus scares his followers by doing something people can’t do.
The modernist reader also can’t handle this. It ends up generating unbelief because none of it can be explained without magic or…belief.
These days, I tend to think of the roadblocks inherent to the modern mindset are avoidance mechanisms more than pure logic. It is a way to center debate, not on what Jesus is doing or what witnesses say about him, but on historicity and the physicality of the world.
In short, we avoid the point of the story by arguing about the substance of the story.
What happens when we focus on Jesus here?
We see someone who is revealing more and more of the Kin-dom as he goes. Who scares the evil with his goodness and scares his followers with his expectations.
But he excites the people because he offers them hope.
This forces me to confront how I approach the gospel. Especially what I’m scared of. Scared of believing. Or scared of avoiding.