Mark 8:27-38 (NRSV)
27 Jesus went on with his disciples to
the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, “Who
do people say that I am?” 28 And they answered him, “John the
Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” 29 He
asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the
Messiah.” 30 And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about
him.
31 Then he began to teach them that the
Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the
chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.
32 He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began
to rebuke him. 33 But turning and looking at his disciples, he
rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind
not on divine things but on human things.”
34 He called the crowd with his disciples, and
said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and
take up their cross and follow me. 35 For those who want to save
their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the
sake of the gospel, will save it. 36 For what will it profit them to
gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37 Indeed, what can
they give in return for their life? 38 Those who are ashamed of me
and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of
Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy
angels.”
Mark 8:27-30 is a
story of the profession of faith by Peter. Historically, some scholars see no
problem as to the possibility that the disciples might have wondered if Jesus
were the Messiah. The disciples would hardly have left everything if this were
not the case.[1]
A similar episode occurs in Gospel of Thomas 13:1-8. We can also see a similar
scene in John 1:35-42 and 6:66-69.
In
the context of Mark, Jesus is clearly a man on the move. From the beginning of
the gospel, Jesus has traveled from Nazareth to the banks of the Jordan (1:9),
to the region of Galilee (1:14), to Capernaum (1:21), to the country of the
Gerasenes (5:1), to Gennesaret (6:53), to Tyre (7:24), to the district of
Dalmanutha (8:10), to Bethsaida (8:22) and now to Caesarea Philippi (8:27).
Jesus has been up and down a mountain (3:13) and across the sea and back (4:35;
5:21; 7:31; 8:13). In all of his travels, he has been preaching and teaching,
healing and telling stories. Along the way, Jesus and his disciples have talked
about his use of parables (4:10), the way they are to behave when they travel
in his name (6:7-11), and how to feed 9,000 people (6:37; 8:4). However, the
conversation they have on the way to Caesarea Philippi will be like no other.
What is at issue now is not what Jesus does, but who he is — the question of
identity.
A journey
implies movement from here to there. Therefore, in characterizing discipleship
as a journey, we are saying that it is a long process. Get ready for growth.
Get ready for surprise. As with any journey, there are times when we wonder if
the journey is working. We have setbacks, long stretches of boredom when the
scenery is not that interesting. The call to discipleship requires certain
disciplines for keeping at it. The journey, like any journey, is not always
easy. Perhaps your journey with Jesus began with a flash of light and great
enthusiasm. However, eventually, over time, enthusiasm wanes. The exciting
journey of faith becomes less exciting. If we are Christians for any length
of time, we know that trials, suffering, and temptations are part of our growth
in discipleship. True life change only begins at our conversion. It takes
training, trying, suffering, and even dying, as our passage suggests, before we
experience the healing and liberating power of the gospel.[2]
From
the beginning, who Jesus is has been an issue, but not as pressing as this
passage displays. Who is this man who is able to issue the command, “Come,
follow me,” and people do so immediately (1:18, 20)? They ask for no other
explanation, no other proof of credentials. The unclean spirits know who Jesus
is (1:24; 5:7), but they are commanded to remain silent. The readers know who
Jesus is. We have read Mark’s prologue (1:1-13). However, the disciples have not.
They, along with the rest of the crowd, continue to piece together who Jesus
is. They have had experiences that show there is something special about the
man they are following. Jesus himself has dropped hints (2:10, 28). Even King
Herod has wondered aloud about who Jesus is
— perhaps God has raised John the
Baptist from the dead (6:14-16)? However, the only title the disciples have
given Jesus, to this point, is “Teacher[3]”
(4:38).
As
the familiar journeying motif of Mark continues, Jesus is about to take the
disciples to a place they would never have imagined. The disciples have just
witnessed some of the most impressive demonstrations of Jesus' powers. Jesus
had fed a crowd of 5,000 on five barley loaves and two fish (Mark 6:30‑44). He
had walked across water to join his disciples aboard ship (Mark 6:45‑52).
Further along on their journey, Jesus had healed a Gentile girl who was demon
possessed and a man who could neither speak nor hear (Mark 7:24‑37). Yet
another feeding miracle was recorded by Mark (8:1‑10): this time 4,000 fed by
seven loaves. Finally, Jesus had healed a blind man, fully restoring the man's
vision (Mark 8:22‑26).
27 Jesus went on with his
disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi, 25 miles from Bethsaida, an
area well known for its many temples, especially to Pan.[4]
The Cave of Pan is at the foot of Mount Hermon, north of the Golan Heights.
Greek and Roman myth identified it as one of the entrances to Hades, though the
other caves are in Greece. The conversation that contains this dramatic and
geographic watershed begins innocently enough. Jesus and the disciples journey
far to the northeast and enter Caesarea Philippi. This may separate the
disciples from the crowds who have often surrounded them up to this point in
the narrative. On the way, in this
distant corner of the countryside, he
asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” The point here is the
polarity between knowledge and ignorance about the identity and mission of
Jesus. It is obvious from the recent discussion in 8:14-21 that Jesus’
followers are woefully far from comprehending the exact nature of Jesus’ power
and authority. To his initial question, the disciples give three answers. 28 They answered him, “John the
Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” The
surmisings of others, recounted by the disciples, are as complimentary as they
are incomplete. Furthermore, these are
the same possibilities considered by King Herod as he anguished over his
execution of John the Baptist in 6:14-16.
Both Mark’s readers and apparently the disciples themselves can hear the
wrongness in these titles. While they may be acceptable answers from the other
citizens of the region, Jesus’ next question reveals a hope for more from those
closest to him (including the readers). 29
He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Here is a further hint
to his disciples that they should know something more. Earlier Jesus tells them God has given them
the secret of the rule of God. Will their answer reveal the secret they have
received? Peter answered him, “You are
the Messiah (Χριστός)[5].” The outspoken Peter is the first to
respond. Peter has not shown any predilection for supernatural revelation at
this point. Whether he is speaking for himself or the group is unclear. This is
the first time any of the disciples have successfully comprehended the identity
of Jesus. It is a job description. In
this setting, the statement of faith by the disciple is what is memorable. It
becomes a model for others. The affirmation of faith by Peter is the watershed
in the narrative of Mark. The tension of the story of Jesus has built up to
this climax. The Christological question posed and answered, Mark will focus
upon the fulfillment of the messianic mission of Jesus as he moves toward cross
and resurrection. We can see the geographical symbolism as Jesus from the
northerly point of the travels of Jesus high among the mountains to the
southern mountain on which Jerusalem rests.[6]
These verses have parallels in other passages. In John 6:66-69, many disciples
turned away from Jesus because of the difficulty of his teaching. Jesus asked
the twelve if they also wished to turn away from following, but Simon Peter
said they had no one else to whom to turn, for he had the words of eternal life.
“We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” In John
11:25-27, Jesus informs Mary, “I am the resurrection and the life.” Mary
responds, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the
one coming into the world.” The Gospel of Thomas 13 has an unusual exchange
that will contrast the special relationship Thomas had with Jesus versus the
relationship the other twelve had with Jesus. Clearly, this passage disparages
Peter and Matthew in particular and elevates Thomas. It comes from a time when
Gnostic believers were making clear their distinction from the apostolic
churches. Peter’s astonishing declaration also opens the door for even more
profound misconceptions. He will have
significance only as he embraces the path of suffering that Jesus will follow.[7]
Messianic expectations were primarily triumphalist, promising political
deliverance of Israel and its restoration to power. Mark uses this title seven times in his
gospel (1:1; 8:29; 9:41; 12:35; 13:21; 14:61; 15:32). At times it is translated
“Messiah”; other times “the Christ.” The title harkens back to the Jewish
understanding of “the Anointed One” — one who had been anointed by God for a
special purpose. In the Old Testament, one sees this primarily in relation to
kings and priests and carries the connotation that not only has God chosen the
person, but God has also empowered the person. It can refer to the anointing of
Aaron and his sons (Exodus 29:21), the anointing by the Lord of Saul (I Samuel
10:1, 6), David (I Samuel 16:13), and the anointing by the Lord of the prophet
(Isaiah 61:1). It was a title of honor and majesty. A warrior prince would
conduct a crusade that would liberate the nation and lift Jerusalem to eminence
for the entire world to see. The anointed one anticipated the triumph of Israel
over its foes. “God’s Messiah” was the name of the prince in the Psalms of
Solomon (50 BC). Jewish people welcome him as a conquering hero.[8]
Yes, Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ, but this messiahship brings a salvation
radically different than anyone had expected. Yet, while we have here an affirmation of faith, this
statement is not properly a confession of faith. Had Peter offered such a
confession on the night of the arrest of Jesus, in the presence of people who
would have opposed him, then he would have confessed his faith in Jesus.[9]
30 He sternly ordered them not to
tell anyone about him. The fact that Jesus tells them to tell no one is
understandable, given the political implications of the title. The fact that
Peter has a wrong‑headed notion of what messianic duties are will come soon
enough. He did not understand the job description of Messiah in the same way as
Jesus did. Jesus tried to stop people from telling about his deeds or
magnifying his person. Since the days of W. Wrede it has been customary to
trace these features to Mark and to find in them the theory of a messianic
secret that traces back to the post-Easter knowledge by the community of the
majesty of Jesus to non-messianic traditions of his earthly appearance. Mark,
however, refers to the regard that the work of Jesus evoked and that led to the
post-Eater awareness of his divine sonship. Such an account contains traces of
a traditional realization that Jesus was aware of the ambivalence into which
his message thrust him and that he tried to counteract it.[10]
Some would argue
that such a Christ-centered affirmation of faith is nothing more than the
theological counterpart of geocentrism in cosmology. It represents an
anachronistic absolutizing of our own contingent place in the scheme of things.
Thus, the center of our religious history is also the sole hope of salvation
for the rest of humanity. The history of world religion teaches us that while
there are high points, an absolute center does not exist.[11]
Yet, ever since Peter makes this affirmation of faith, the church understands
its uniqueness in this way. What makes Christians who they are is Jesus. If God
had given the church a book, it might become a noble philosophy of life or a
system of virtues. What the church has instead is one who came in Jewish flesh
and through whom God saves. He was the son of a Jewish carpenter, he lived
briefly, he died violently at 30, and he unexpectedly rose from the dead. The
church believes it has seen as much of God that it hopes to see in this life.
Even in his own time, maybe especially, the identity of Jesus was hardly
self-evident. Some believed or hoped he was the promised Messiah and eventually
believed he was God come to humanity in the flesh. Others thought he was crazy.
Since the time of Jesus, many others have undertaken to identify Jesus. H. S.
Reimarus (1691-1768) said Jesus was a Jewish revolutionary figure who died a
disappointed failure. David Friedrich Strauss (1808-74) showed how this was the
case by removing the miraculous elements of the Gospels. Ernest Renan (1823-92)
offered a romantic picture of Jesus as a strange, sweet, spirited poet and a
great moral teacher and example. H. J. Holtzmann (1832-1910) portrayed Jesus as
a teacher of timeless ethical truth. Johannes Weiss (1863-1914) returned
attention to the kingdom of God as an apocalyptic, end of the world notion that
ended in a disappointed Jesus. Albert Switzer would largely agree with this
assessment. These authors made their decisions regarding Jesus. The question
for us, of course, is the decision we make regarding Jesus. Such scholars ought
to remind us that our images of Jesus will often reflect our aspirations. Yet,
Jesus keeps breaking free of our limited images.[12]
The incomprehensible
and ineffable nature of ultimate reality will make sure many persons will
hesitate to accept such a claim. After all, it seems arrogant to claim one
religious description of reality as superior to rival descriptions. Further, no
tradition can reasonably claim exclusive rights to the means of salvation. Many
Christians, desiring not to give offense, will back away from the uniqueness of
the saving work of Christ. Yet, the affirmation of this nonexclusive
particularity of salvation in Christ may well be the condition for genuine
respect from others.[13]
When it comes to such matters, the secularity of this age moves us toward a
stance of perpetual detachment. We are onlookers. We stand back and watch the
world go past us. We are like perpetual tourists, just passing through without
actually landing anywhere. We can quickly learn the basic teachings of
Buddhism, Islam, and even the teachings of Jesus. Yet, the church still asks,
“However, what do you believe? On what will you bet your life? What commitment,
which attachment, will determine how you live, move, and have your being?” At
some point, the church does not care what 9 in 10 Americans believe. What do
you believe? When it comes to religious matters, we can find so many different
opinions and conflicting points of view. We seem to have no place to stand
where we can determine what is right. Yet, making no decision is adopting a
point of view. You are socially acceptable and intellectually humble if you
admit you have no point of view or settle down and admit to having a position.
True, you will not know everything. You will not have settled all possible
questions. Yet, to find the words that locate you in a relationship with “the
way, the truth, and the life” is to find a rock on which to stand and build your
life.
We have developed
far more complex affirmations of faith than we see from Peter. The Council of
Chalcedon in 431 adopted its creed. The creed defines that Christ is
“acknowledged in two natures,” which “come together into one person and one hypostasis.”
The formal definition of “two natures” in Christ sides with Western and
Antiochene Christology and diverges from the teaching of Cyril of Alexandria,
who always stressed that Christ is “one.” Regarding the person of Christ and
the Hypostatic union, Chalcedonian Creed affirmed the notion that Christ is
“One Person,” having “One Hypostasis.” The creed states explicitly the
Christological notions of “One Person” (monoprosopic — having one prosopon /
Greek term for “person”) and “One Hypostasis” (monohypostatic — having one
hypostasis) in order to emphasize the Council’s anti-Nestorian positions.
Here is one
humorous presentation of the potentially complex affirmation of a modern faith.
They replied, “You are he who heals our ambiguities and overcomes the split of
angst and existential estrangement; you are he who speaks of the theonomous
viewpoint of the analogia entis, the analogy of our being and the ground of all
possibilities. You are the impossible possibility who brings to us, your
children of light and children of darkness, the overwhelming roughness in the
midst of our fraught condition of estrangement and brokenness, in the
contiguity and existential anxieties of our ontological relationships. You are
my Oppressed One, my soul’s shalom, the One who was, who is and who shall be,
who has never left us alone in the struggle, the event of liberation in the
lives of the oppressed struggling for freedom, and whose blackness is both
literal and symbolic.” And Jesus replied, “Huh?”
My point is that
the affirmations we have in the New Testament can have a refreshing simplicity.
Do you know what a
humanist is? My parents and grandparents were humanists, what used to be called
Free Thinkers. So I am honoring my ancestors, which the Bible says is a good
thing to do. We humanists try to behave as decently, as fairly and as honorably
as we can without any expectation of rewards or punishment in an afterlife ...
And if I should ever die, I hope you will say, “Kurt is up in Heaven now.”
That’s my favorite
joke. How do humanists feel about Jesus? I say of Jesus, as all humanists do,
“If what he said is good, and so much of it is absolutely beautiful, what does
it matter if he was God or not?”
But if Christ hadn’t
delivered his Sermon on the Mount, with its message of mercy and pity, I
wouldn’t want to be a human being. I’d just as soon be a rattlesnake.[14]
Mark 8:31-33 is
the first prophecy of the passion. Historically, most scholars agree that the
saying is a summary by Mark of his understanding of the gospel message. Some
scholars believe Jesus concluded that the Son of Man and Messiah must suffer.
Thus, although Mark has framed the prophecy that reflect post-Easter faith,
there is no reason to think Jesus could not have thought creatively about his
own fate, in light of the prophets, the death of John, and the hostility of
Jewish leaders. Jesus may have surmised his fate, but the details may come from
the early preaching of the church. We should note that he does not specifically
say that this fulfills scripture. Paul will do so in his summary of the gospel
message. Though Mark frames the text in the light of post-Easter events, it is
likely that Jesus prepared the disciples with the concept of Messianic
suffering and later exaltation. This
would mean that Jesus made the unique combination of the Isaiah 53 passage with
the apocalyptic hope regarding the Son of Man. In this view, the Son of Man,
even as Isaiah 53 points to the later victory of the suffering servant, would
find God exalting him. The marks of this Son of Man revealed by Jesus are
shockingly different from those anticipated by a long expectant Israel. Jesus emphasizes his obedience to the divine
will and ordinances of God by describing these experiences as things he must
undergo. He shatters the image of a
triumphant Messiah and replaces it with the less familiar suffering servant
image of Isaiah.
31 Then he began to teach them
that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering at the hands of the
religious establishment, such as the elders, the chief priests, and the
scribes rejecting him and killing him, and after three days rise again, an
action performed by God. The focus is
on the suffering, rejection, and death, with only a brief reference to
resurrection. Easter is not a way to escape Lent and Good Friday! The cross is
still a difficult message to accept. Supposedly, a popular preacher said that
one could not succeed today preaching the cross because people already have
enough problems. Such a statement is likely a summary of the preaching of the early
church. Paul in I Corinthians 15:3-4 wrote a
summary of the core beliefs he received, undoubtedly soon after his conversion,
which would have been about three years after the death of Jesus. It contains a
summary that relates the death of Christ for our sins “in accordance with the
scripture,” and of God raising him to life “in accordance with the scripture.”
Luke uses similar terms. In Acts 2:23-24, Jesus the Nazarene received death
through the power of the Jewish leaders and the foreknowledge of God,
crucifying him through Gentile powers, but God raising him to life, freeing him
from Hades, for Hades did not have the power to hold him. In Acts 3:15, Peter
again says that they killed the prince of life, but God raised him from the
dead. In Acts 3:18, God said through the prophets that the Christ would suffer.
In Acts 13:27-31, Paul relates that the people of Jerusalem and their rulers
fulfilled the prophets. Jesus was innocent, but they condemned him and asked
Pilate to have him put to death. They carried out scripture foretold. Then,
they took him down from the tree and buried him in a tomb. However, God raised
him from the dead. He appeared to his companions and they became witnesses.
Mark summarizes his gospel presentation in the passion prediction. He knew the two steps of Paul. This is why Mark composed a gospel climaxing
with the cross and the promise of resurrection.
Such predictions are not in Q or in Thomas. Matthew and Luke agree with Mark that Jesus
was destined to die and that the disciples did not understand this. The early tradition behind the passion story
seems simply to have recognized the divine necessity of the innocent suffering
and death of Jesus in fulfillment of the prophetic testimonies of scripture, a
view we find here. This early tradition contrasts with later theological
interpretations that give the death of Jesus an expiatory significance.[15]
However, this view of the death of Jesus corresponds well with Galatians 5:2,
which says that Christ loved us and gave himself up for us. Much of historical
scholarship would not think of Jesus as making crucifixion the goal of his
message and ministry.[16]
32 He said all this quite
openly. Jesus recites the first of three passion predictions in Mark. In each of the three passion predictions,
this pattern continues: After every reference to his approaching death, Jesus
begins a new lesson on discipleship.
Likewise, at the close of each of these discipleship lessons is a scene
that testifies to the genuine authority of the messianic identity of Jesus.
Given what they now know — that following this one will mean sacrifice,
suffering and death — this will be the most challenging journey they will ever
make. Peter identifies Jesus as the Messiah, and immediately Jesus turns around
and challenges his understanding of whom the Messiah is. This is not what Peter
expects to hear. Not only is the prediction of the passion decidedly unwelcome
news, but Jesus presents it in a new manner.
When speaking about the rule of God, Jesus usually spoke in parables,
told stories, or gave demonstrations to his disciples and the crowds following
him. Now, however, Jesus speaks of the
approaching suffering plainly and openly. Jesus presents the passion as a cold,
hard fact. This is a private revelation to the disciples. This lesson of Jesus is one that flies in the
face of conventional concepts of success and gain, of winning and losing. Yet, Peter took him aside, doing what Jesus
had done to reveal special information to the disciples, and began to rebuke him. The reaction of Peter is life-like and
patronizing. He acts as the leader of the disciples. He is not the tenuous
disciple, but rather, becomes active. He may even want to protect the other
disciples from what Jesus has said. To do so, however, he challenges the
authority of Jesus over the disciples and refuses to accept the harsh truth
Jesus has stated. It seems hardly surprising that Peter takes exception to the
scenario Jesus outlines. After all,
Peter had finally caught on: He had confessed Jesus to be the Messiah. Instead of congratulating him on his insight
or rewarding Peter for his faith, Jesus instead silenced him. Now, just as Peter was bursting with the Good
News of the Messiah, Jesus completely deflates Peter's expectations by
foretelling this Messiah's demeaning death.
33 However, turning and looking at his disciples, he
rebuked Peter, returning the “favor” Peter gave to Jesus and reasserting
his authority, and said, “Get behind me, urging
him to accept the proper role of the disciple and to get out of the way, Satan! This suggests that the same
temptation he experienced in the wilderness at the beginning of his public
ministry is coming back through Peter. The reason is simple: you are setting your mind not on divine
things, the divine plan, but on human
things,” an ill-informed earthbound view. Jesus emphasizes the contrast
between the divine and the human. The private lesson in discipleship is now
over. Yet, we must ponder this moment. One might think the identity of Jesus
would become clearer. At the same time, they must willingly give up their ideas
about the Messiah. From now on, the journey will become increasingly difficult.
It is obvious they do not fully get it (9:10, 32; 10:24, 35-45). Even so, they
also admit their lack of understanding and seek to learn more (13:4ff).
Mark 8:34-38 is a
collection of sayings around the theme of following Christ. They have to do
with loyalty and fidelity by the followers of Jesus when faced with
circumstances that call for courage and sacrifice. We learn some hard lessons
about discipleship here. Yes, salvation is free and a gift. Yet, discipleship
will cost you your life.[17]
At this point, it becomes quite clear that theology is necessary in order to
make preaching as hard for the preacher as it has to be.[18]
I will not try to soften the blow. Instead, I will try to make the point as
sharp as I can.
34 He called the crowd with his
disciples, now wanting to teach that not only are their expectations of the
Messiah in need of change, their expectations of faithful following of the
Messiah must also change. The profession by Peter is important, but the hinge
in Mark occurs with the prediction of the passion for the Messiah and the
pattern of discipleship it suggests. Having spoken to the disciples about his identity,
he will now share them their identity as disciples and the cost of following
him. This instruction occurs while they are on the way to Jerusalem. They are
on the way to the cross. This particular road is one that every group of
disciples in every generation must walk.[19]
Jesus then said the following to them. Let us remember that Jesus
called the disciples, saying, “Follow me.” Jesus will now articulate some of the harsh realities that define a discipleship
that has the cross in its sights.
First, Jesus says,
“If any want to become my followers, let
them deny themselves, and their self-centered concerns. The
saying provides the conditions for following Jesus. The first condition we need
to meet in order to follow Jesus is to deny the self. Though denying oneself is
language we find psychologically familiar today, this was an odd phrase for
both the Hebraic and Aramaic ear to hear. The concept of a freestanding
"self" was virtually unknown in that ancient Near Eastern culture.
Thus, instead of using this text as evidence of an early martyr-complex, it
would be more accurate to think along family lines and kinship ties. In that
culture, any life of an individual did not define the self. Rather,
relationship within the family group defined the self. This kinship group
controlled the individual, gave identity and maintained the world within which
the individual existed. Thus, the demand of Jesus is radical, something like
saying, "Give up your world." Give up the human family that defines
you, and instead make Jesus your only family, your only reference point for
authority and guidance. Further, disciples must take up their cross. The second condition to follow Jesus
relates to the cross. This statement pulls the individual even farther away
from the safety of the family unit. The cross was a Roman image, instantly
recognized by any kinship group that had felt the weight of the heavy thumb of
Roman rule. Jesus then offers the invitation to follow me.[20]
Third condition is to follow Jesus. In context, Peter must be the first to do
this, of course. Yet, the way of the cross was for the multitudes and not just
for the disciples. To follow Christ involves denial of self in the sense of
yielding freely to this total service and therefore refusal to save their lives
for themselves. For those who had not heard the private prediction of Jesus
concerning his suffering, death and resurrection, these words must have shocked
them to their shoes. Jesus lays out requirements for discipleship that go far
beyond any usual conversion practices. Jewish proselytes had to decide to
accept Jewish faith and law freely, willingly rejecting old pagan relationships
and acquaintances. The insistence of Jesus that a potential disciple must not
only deny all old familiar ties but must be prepared to suffer horribly because
of their identity as a disciple is unprecedented. After two millennia of
"cross" imagery, our senses are not as shocked by this reference, as
listeners to Jesus must have been. The pain, brutality and degradation of a
death by crucifixion ‑‑ including the spirit‑stripping practice of making the
condemned "take up his cross" on this final death march to the
execution site ‑‑ was a torture reserved for only the most despised of state
criminals. Yet this is the very image Jesus chooses to represent as the fate of
his most devoted disciples. This means
that each disciple has a cross to take up, rather than to fear, hate, avoid,
evade, or escape the affliction that falls on the disciple. Discipleship
becomes a matter of each Christian carrying one’s own cross, suffering one’s
own affliction, bearing the definite limitation of death that in one form or
another falls on one’s own existence.[21]
The challenge here is that to follow Jesus, one simply has to renounce,
withdraw, and annul, and existing relationship of obedience and loyalty,
namely, to oneself. As he sees it, self-denial in the context of following
Jesus involves a step into the open, into the freedom of a definite decision
and act, in which it is with a real commitment that people take leave
themselves, the person of yesterday, of the people they were. They give up
their previous form of existence. What matters now is not the self, but to
follow Jesus, regardless of the cost.[22]
Following Jesus in this service means co-crucifixion with Jesus. Paul, in fact,
suggests this in Galatians 2:19-20, where he says that he has been crucified
with Christ so that now, his life is a matter of Christ living in and through
him. The focus on discipleship is identification with the destiny of Jesus.
This view is in keeping with the sayings of Jesus about the discipleship of the
cross, in which Jesus required his disciples to bear his cross, but only
insofar as they were to bear their own. The bearing of their cross is the
consequence of the special calling and sending they received from God. Mark
makes clear that Christology and discipleship are inseparable, and that the way
of Jesus to the cross is also the way the disciple must follow.[23]
Just as following
Jesus means denial, so also it means death. Dietrich Bonhoeffer famously said
in his Cost of Discipleship, that
when Christ calls us, he bids us to come to him and die. Thomas à Kempis
wrote,
In the Cross is salvation;
in the Cross is life;
in the Cross is protection against
our enemies;
in the Cross is infusion of
heavenly sweetness;
in the Cross is strength of mind;
in the Cross is joy of spirit;
in the Cross is excellence of
virtue;
in the Cross is perfection of
holiness.
There is no salvation of soul,
nor hope of eternal life,
save in the Cross. (The
Inner Life)
"If you bear the cross gladly,
it will bear you"
(The Imitation of Christ, 2.12.5).
C.S. Lewis wrote (The Four Loves) that if you would love
you would suffer. We cannot even love a dog without at one point or another
feeling the pain of loss, assuming we outlive the dog. The greatest of all
things-love-is itself most intimately bound with suffering. It is a poignant
irony, I think. In our attempt to avoid suffering, we cut ourselves off from
the one thing that can mitigate it: each other. Anyone who really wanted to get
rid of suffering would have to get rid of love before anything else, because
there can be no love without suffering, because it always demands an element of
self-sacrifice, because, given temperamental differences and the drama of
situations, it will always bring with it renunciation and pain. When we know
that the way of love, this exodus, this going out of oneself, is the true way
by which man becomes human, then we also understand that suffering is the
process through which we mature. Anyone who has inwardly accepted suffering
becomes more mature and more understanding of others and becomes more human.
People who have consistently avoided suffering do not understand other people.
They become hard and selfish. We have no literary, psychological, or historical
answers to human tragedy. We have only moral answers. Yes, in the face of
suffering at the hands of other human beings we may despair. Yet, hope also
comes from other human beings.[24]
Second, Jesus
offers a secular proverb (Luke 17:33), 35
For those who want to save their life (psyche, life, soul, self) will lose it, and those who lose their life
for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. Given the
context of the taking up the cross, a physical reference is possible here. Yet,
we might also ponder the matter of personal identity that animates every
individual life. We have a natural desire for self-preservation. We recognize
the hint of truth in the saying that to love oneself is the beginning of a
lifelong romance.[25]
How can one save one’s life by losing it? “Soul,” meaning even if death is the
result, the disciples has preserved the true self. The saying expresses the
supreme value of the true self. There is no greater gain and no price to one
can put upon it. This saying is true first of Jesus. Had Jesus saved his life
at the cost of his proclaiming the divine lordship, he would have actually made
himself independent of God and put himself in equality with God. He could not
be the Son of God by an unlimited enduring of his finite existence. No finite
being can be one with God in infinite reality. Only as he let his earthly
existence consume itself in service to his mission could Jesus as a creature be
one with God. He did not cling to his life. He chose to accept the ambivalence
that his mission meant for his person, with all its consequences. He showed
himself to be obedient to his mission.[26]
Such renunciation is in favor of the living Lord, Jesus Christ.[27]This
claim is the form of the Gospel, of the promise of the free grace of God by
which alone human beings can live, but by which one may live in the full sense
of the term.[28]
In a sense, by choosing oneself, one loses what one seeks, becoming supremely
non-human. To do so is to give oneself to the pride that is the heart of human
behavior.[29]
A paraphrase might suggest that those concerned about themselves in
discipleship will miss the very thing that Christ assigns to them in
discipleship. However, they receive what Christ assigns to them in discipleship
if they lose all concern for themselves in discipleship.[30]
Third, Jesus
offers some proverbial or secular wisdom. We need to think of it as a
rhetorical question. 36 For
what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37
Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? For both the
disciples and the crowds that had been enjoying a journey of triumph and
miracles, the new message of Jesus was both sobering and hard. Acquiring the
whole world but losing the soul would be a bad exchange. Both are general statements and would find
general acceptance. Jesus offers a pair of rhetorical questions that deepen the
new understanding of "self" that his disciples must grasp. Clearly, Jesus does not consider the
"self" to be a false, valueless identity that needs to be shrugged
off. On the contrary, the
"self" is beyond all value, and thus can only be freely given and
freely received. The rhetorical question
suggests that one can only offer one’s life in response to the gift of life. We
cannot have fullness of life by preserving a life defined by the past. We can
see here the supreme value of the soul or the true self. We cannot put a price
on it. Setting aside our definition of the self will lead to happiness and real
living. Such a life is meaningful. As the Prayer of Saint Francis puts it, “For
it is in dying to self, that we are born to eternal life.” When we choose the
self, we lose what we seek.[31]
We renounce the self in favor of Jesus.[32]
If we concern ourselves with the self in our practice of discipleship, we will
miss the very thing discipleship offers. You will achieve the desire of your
heart as a follower of Jesus if you lose your focus upon the self.[33]
Adolf Harnack thought with good reason that he had found a Magna Carta of the message
of the infinite value of every human soul.[34]
We need to give up our citizenship in the world of “me.” Our devotion needs to
be to the people and tasks of our lives in order to find life. Much of modern
notions of self find their critique here. Many parts of psychology have faith
in the pursuit of selfhood as we form our identity. Yet, excessive focusing on
our identity is a deformation of the theme of a human life. The goods and tasks
of our lives and our openness to God need to be primary and therefore the
source of our identity. We can see a parallel in Plato as he suggested that the
upright and good are happy, while the pursuit of happiness for its own sake is
egocentric and leads us astray. Only those who seek the good for its own sake
will find happiness and identity (Gorgias
491bff, especially 506c.7ff and 470e.9f).[35]
These discipleship
statements stand at the center of the message of Mark, and they need to stand
at the center of the proclamation of the church today. Following Jesus is
difficult when our definitions of power and success get in the way. If we, as
his followers, try to tell him what he should or should not do, as Peter was
attempting, then we have not denied ourselves. If we do not continue with Jesus
on the road to Jerusalem, anticipating the cross and its sufferings, with our
own cross bar across our backs, then we are not following. It is only after we
have turned in our understandings of power and success from a worldly
perspective and exchanged them for a power that denies itself, and a success
that manifests itself in sacrifice, that we see the role faith plays in this
passage.
None of us wants
to lose something precious. Our lives are precious to us, or at least, they
should be. In particular, if it gives us a sense of security, and we lose it,
we will become anxious. Security is important to us.
The notion of
denying self is difficult for many people in the West today. I think the
difficulty arises from at least two fronts. One is that we have learned how
fascinating self is. Whether in spiritual formation or in psychology, we
explore the richness and fullness of the self. Two is that studies in addictive
and co-dependent behavior have taught us that too often we get ourselves in
relationships in which we sacrifice ourselves for no redemptive purpose. Each
of these insights makes us justly suspicious of any call to self-denial.
Yet, do you not
agree that if we focus too much upon self, if we protect self too much, if we
seek security in self, we open ourselves to the possibility of losing who we
are? I understand it seems paradoxical. Yet, focusing on saving our lives may
well derive from fear. Losing ourselves may well arise out of faith. A large
part of learning what you really want in life is learning what you are willing
to give up in order to get it.[36]
We may find our purpose in life as we take up the symbol of punishment, the
cross. We may find our true self as we lose ourselves in following Jesus.
Clearly, such
reflections do not lead to safety and security in the traditional sense. We are
not in as much control. Yet, I wonder if this type of insecurity may not lead
to the greatest security of all – eternal life. It may well be that the
greatest lesson one learns in life is that God alone is enough for true life.
The lessons we learn in life may lead to nothing other than the crowning
discovery of Christian life, that God is enough.[37]
Jesus is saying
that we should not value anything more highly than discipleship — even our own
lives. Following Jesus is supposed to be our Number One priority, higher than
success, security, wealth, health, power, and prestige.
In reading the
philosopher Spinoza, in his Tractatus
Theologico-Politicus (1670), I wrote down the following reaction to one
criticism he had of the church of his day. As a Christian, I find it sad, but
also true, that persons who profess their Christianity, and therefore commit
themselves to love, joy, peace, temperance, and charity to all people, should
also quarrel with such “rancorous animosity,” displaying toward each other
“such bitter hatred, that this, rather than the virtues they claim, is the
readiest criterion of their faith.” Well, such were the accusations he made
against the church of his day. Could it also be true of us?
Let us allow our
lives do the talking. Michener, in The Source, has one character comment,
“If that man had a different God, he would be a different man.” You know, I
hope that statement is true of us.
Theologian
Reinhold Niebuhr has a wonderful prayer with this theme.
O Lord, who has taught us that to gain
the whole world and to lose our souls is great folly, grant us the grace so to
lose ourselves that we may truly find ourselves anew in the life of grace, and
so to forget ourselves that we may be remembered in your kingdom.
The section concludes
with a sentence of holy law. The final eschatological scene offered here by
Jesus reminds his listeners that whatever choice they make, for Jesus or
against him, there will be consequences. 38
Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful
generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the
glory of his Father with the holy angels.”[38] It
is not easy to stand up for our beliefs, especially in a culture that is
suspicious of all religion. Daniel 7:13-14 influences it. Jesus becomes the head of the elect
community. This distinctly recognizable literary type promised definite
eschatological ramifications to the fulfillment of particular earthly actions. In general, such statements of "holy
law" offered strength and solace to early Christians, many of whom faced
horrible persecutions and temptations. In this particular case, however, Jesus
gives only the negative side of his "holy law." Here, Jesus
attributes the judgment that the Son of Man will pronounce in correspondence to
the message of Jesus and hence according to the criterion of confession or
rejection of Jesus.[39]
The passage draws a parallel between response of people to Jesus on earth and
the reception they can expect from the Son of Man. Here, he is an apocalyptic figure. There is a
parallel in Matthew 10:32-33 and Luke 12:8-9. If the disciple has shame of
Jesus in this evil and adulterous generation, Christ will be ashamed of them
when things turned out differently or they tried to escape the inevitable
outcome.[40]
Such a saying stands at the beginning of Christian confession. It refers to
publicly taking sides in a conflict, in this case, the conflict relating to the
message and person of Jesus.[41]
For Mark, faith is an elusive quality. It is
necessary for the readers of Mark’s gospel, but faith is an attribute that does
not appear in many characters in the text. In this passage, security for life
in this world is not readily available, so one must turn to faith. If followers
of Jesus really do deny themselves and take up their cross, they must have
faith in Jesus that he really can give them more than “the whole world” (8:36).
In the midst of the paradox about saving and losing their lives, Jesus exhorts
the disciples and the crowd to understand the new option he presents. As Jesus
asks, “what can they give in return for their life?” (8:37), he takes the
emphasis off worldly gain (8:36) as the result of true success. Those who
attempt to exchange their souls in order “to gain the whole world” are identified
as the ones of whom the Son of Man will be ashamed “when he comes in the glory
of his Father with the holy angels” (8:36, 38). Using human logic rather than
faith, the disciples and the crowd could have easily been ashamed of one who
had suffered and been rejected by all. Nevertheless, Jesus seeks this kind of
power reversal. Suffering and rejection now do lead to power in the future.
This power, though, does not have its grounding in the perspective of the
world, whose sands shift over time. The passage exhorts the follower of Jesus
to this life of power and success, but power and success defined as faith in
God through a life of rejection and sacrifice. These motifs will continue to
surround Jesus as he makes his way to Jerusalem and actualizes his predictions
of suffering and death, but they also surround the church who continues to try
to follow Jesus today.
Mark makes clear
the nature of the call to discipleship that Jesus offers. Discipleship is in light of the cross of
Jesus. While Jesus did not say that he
was Messiah, he seemed to believe that his mission was to execute the role of
Messiah under the title Son of Man. Why
is this? First, Jesus associated his
messiahship with the Son of Man who must suffer and die. The tragedy of our day is that we still have
members in churches who are following Jesus because they feel that he can make
them healthy, wealthy, and wise and have forgotten that membership is not
discipleship. Discipleship is costly and
if there is no cross there no crown. Jesus
was not talking about a Marxist revolution that might take the form of
economic, political, or military changes.
Jesus’ revolution was much bigger.
He wished to overthrow and defeat Satan and evil in order to bring order
and peace on earth.
[1]
Others, such as Bultmann, view the passage as a profession of faith in the
risen Lord. For the Jesus Seminar, it becomes a stylized scene shaped by Christian
motifs. In their view, Jesus rarely initiates dialogue or refers to himself in
the first person.
[2] (Adapted from James Emery White, Rethinking the
Church, Baker, 1997, p. 55-57).
[3]
NRSV; “Master,” NEB,
Jerusalem)
[4]
(Sherman E. Johnson, Matthew; Interpreters Bible [New York: Abington, 1951],
449).
[5]
The ho Christos Peter declares may be
variously translated as "the Christ," "the Messiah" or
"the Anointed One."
[6]
(R.T. France, The Gospel of Mark, [Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2002], 327).
[7]
Barth, Church Dogmatics II.2 [35.3]
440-3.
[8]
(Ralph P. Martin, Mark [John Knox Press, 1981], 45).
[9]
Barth, Church Dogmatics III.4 [53.2],
85.
[10]
Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume
2, 336.
[11]
—B.A. Gerrish, “What do we mean by faith in Jesus Christ?” The Christian
Century, October 6, 1999,
referring to Ernst Troeltsch .
[12]
N. T. Wright, Who Was Jesus? [Grand
Rapids, MI: Wm. B.
Eerdmans, 1992].)
[13]
J. A. DiNoia, “Jesus and the World Religions,” First Things, June/July
1995.
[14]
—Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country (Random House, 2017), 79-80.
[15]
Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume
2, 416.
[16]
Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume
2, 438.
[17]
Dietrich Bonhoeffer
[18]
Gerhard Ebeling (Word and Faith, p. 424.)
[19]
Paul Minear
[20]
This saying has parallels in the Gospel of Thomas and in the material common to
Matthew and Luke. Many scholars suggest that since it implies a Christian
understanding of the cross, it originates in the early church after the
resurrection. The Jesus Seminar says this saying appeals to the fate of Jesus
as the standard of commitment. It
reflects a time when the Christian community was exposed to the pressures of
persecution. They claim no evidence
exists that the cross served as a symbol of radical self-denial outside the
context of the crucifixion of Jesus or prior to that event. Further, instead of
a soon return of Jesus, the saying seems to expect the cross to be a long-term
proposition.
[21]
(Barth,
2004, 1932-67), IV.2 [64.3] 264.
[22]
Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.2 [66.3]
539-40.
[23]
(Pannenberg, 1998, 1991) Volume 3, 282.
[24]
Elie Wiesel
[25]
Oscar Wilde
[26]
Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume
2, 374-5.
[27]
(Barth,
2004, 1932-67) IV.1 [63.1] 744.
[28]
(Barth,
2004, 1932-67) IV.2 [64.3] 264.
[29]
(Barth,
2004, 1932-67), IV.2 [60.2] 421.
[30]
(Barth,
2004, 1932-67) IV.3 [71.6] 652.
[31]
(Barth,
2004, 1932-67), IV.2 [60.2] 421.
[32]
(Barth,
2004, 1932-67) IV.1 [63.1] 744.
[33]
(Barth,
2004, 1932-67) IV.3 [71.6] 652.
[34]
(Barth,
2004, 1932-67) III.4 [55.1] 387.
[35]
Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume
2, 249.
[36]
Sidney Howard
[38]
For some scholars, the identification of this figure with Jesus excludes the
possibility of it going back to Jesus.
The saying would find particular application to a setting in which
external forces forced the followers of Jesus to acknowledge or deny Jesus. The
possibility of the words of Jesus causing embarrassment implies the absence of
Jesus. Of course, the Gospel of Mark arises out of a community undergoing
persecution.
[39]
Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume
3, 614.
[40]
(Barth,
2004, 1932-67), IV.2 [64.4] 264.
[41]
Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume
3, 114.
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