Mark and mystery

Currents in Theology and Mission, Dec, 2003 by Linda Maloney

In 1983 Robert H. Smith wrote a book on the Resurrection Gospels, (1) summarizing decades and even centuries of research and offering a solid basis for understanding those key texts of Christian faith. The book has withstood the ravages of time very well indeed. My present purpose is to look back at that book and its content, as regards the ending of Mark, and to reflect on its conclusions in light of some recent work in theology, and particularly mystical theology.

Easter Gospels was itself a reflective view of the biblical material, sacrificing nothing in historical-critical acuity but keeping the faith character of the Gospels always to the fore. Before examining the text of Mark's ending, Smith considered the context in which and to which the Gospel was written--the situation of Christians in persecution, whether in Palestine or in Rome, of in some other place(s). He concluded that Mark's Gospel is "a fresh and profound interpretation of the Christian tradition, emphasizing the parallels between [first-century Christians'] own experience and that of Jesus. In his portrait of Jesus, Mark emphasizes both Jesus' sonship and his forsakenness." (2) It is that dual focus in Mark that has so profoundly interested most readers, and this is a point to which I will return.

The notoriously contested "original ending" of Mark is here defended not merely as authentic but as "a dramatic and kerygmatic asset." Smith finds that the Gospel concludes both "hopefully and mysteriously." (3) The women's silence at the end has dramatic effect, but it also points beyond itself: Smith interprets it as meaning that the women ran straight to witness to the disciples without speaking to anyone on the way, just as the healed man in 1:44 is instructed to "say nothing to anyone" before showing himself to the priest--at which time he would most certainly have spoken. So here, the women will neglect even the social obligation to greet those they encounter on the way, intent on their sole purpose: to carry out the angelic command to go and tell the disciples of Jesus' resurrection and his promised meeting with them in Galilee.

One cannot exactly say that this solution, though plausible and well grounded, has been accepted by subsequent scholars. The nature of Mark's ending remains controverted, and a good many writers are content simply to leave it open--maybe this, maybe that; take your pick. The early church solution--adding bits to make the story come out "right"--has not lost its popularity; thus Ben Witherington writes in a commentary for preaching that "even if Mark 16:8 is the original final verse of this Gospel (which I doubt), it can be understood as follows...." (4) He continues with a version of the thesis of temporary silence, namely that "[d]uring the period of time that terror and fear engulfed them, they fled, and while they were afraid, they said nothing to anyone. This does not preclude their having spoken to someone eventually, nor does it preclude their having seen Jesus after visiting the empty tomb...." (5)

Others are less sanguine about the happy issue of this episode. Joanna Dewey, for example, reads Mark with a feminist focus that reveals the major role of women disciples and women characters in the story, but she finds that the ending, as narrated, still portrays the women disciples as having failed, just as their male counterparts did. "They flee in astonishment and amazement. Their fear is an appropriate response to the power of God experienced in the empty grave and the encounter with the man in white. But saying nothing is not appropriate." (6) This, she finds, is in keeping with Markan irony, and she concludes that the "happy end" in this case is the news that "failure need not be the end of discipleship.... The audience is reassured that they may fail, turn again, and continue following Jesus. Mark's message may even be that human failure is the beginning of true discipleship...." (7) This counters the position of some earlier churchmen that Mark introduces the women as witnesses precisely in order to underscore the failure of the men, and even that the role of apostleship is temporarily stripped from the men and given to the women. (8)

Clearly, the unease persists. Smith's solution is in some ways satisfying, yet it does not entirely hold. Smith himself writes eloquently, throughout his essay in Easter Gospels, of the paradoxical elements in this Gospel, of the sense of a brooding cloud and the question whether this is indeed "the good news of Jesus Christ." (9) Let me now, in response, say a few words on the structural clues to Mark's intention in relation to the character of the events he attempts to describe and about the theological response that may be appropriate to his intent.

It is a notorious and accepted fact that Mark writes in "sandwiches." He habitually begins a story, breaks off to tell of another incident, then returns to conclude the first story. The sandwiching of the raising of Jairus's daughter with the healing of the woman with a hemorrhage in chapter 5 is the parade example. Some even suggest that the entire Gospel is such an intercalation--that "The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God" must be read as the opening of a giant Klammer that closes only with the angel's words at the tomb, or even with the women's silence, since readers are thrown back to that beginning to understand with new eyes, and to enact, the meaning contained between the two.