An offering of questions - Mark 1:21-28 - Column

Christian Century, Jan 5, 1994 by Patrick J. Wilson

THE OUTLANDISH canons of punctuation permitted in publishing comic books are quite at odds with those employed by proper editors of scripture. When Spiderman puzzles over mysterious goings-on, his ruminations culminate in a gaudy splash of question marks. Uncle Scrooge's rantings at Donald Duck and his nephews evoke a blistering array of exclamation points. The peoples response to Jesus in the synagogue of Capernaum seems to ask for something like this: "What is this?!? A new teaching??? And with authority!!?"

Questions explode out of Marks story. As a narrative this episode in the synagogue is profoundly unsatisfying. Jesus is teaching with uncommon authority when Mark introduces into the story a man with an unclean spirit. The unclean spirit seems better informed about Jesus than anyone else is, but Jesus shushes it and insists that it vacate the premises. Bystanders respond as if they had heard nothing of what the spirit said, and Jesus walks away, apparently oblivious of their amazement and questions. We have heard the questions, however, questions that will not let us go on our way so easily: "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?" the unclean spirit asks; "What is this? A new teaching--with authority!" the onlookers wonder.

The questions continue to haunt us long after Jesus has left the synagogue of Capernaum. When a story poses questions, we look for answers; when a narrative leaves us unsatisfied, we hunger for some resolution. We are curious creatures. We want to know how the story turns out. We want to know the answer to the questions. What does he have to do with us, and what is this, exactly? A teaching--or something else? We don't quite know what to make of this Jesus introduced in Mark's first chapter.

Occasionally biblical scholars have suggested that Mark is merely something of a klutz when it comes to telling a story. But perhaps he is, rather, ingeniously shrewd. Perhaps, in Marks judgment, we have too many answers already. Like Gilbert and Sullivan's "modern Major General," we have "information vegetable, animal and mineral," but may be missing something we have not even noticed is absent. In these opening verses Mark's method of storytelling dislocates our sense of security, dislodges our comfortable certainties, and proposes that, instead of reciting the right answers, we ask the right questions. This episode at the beginning of Jesus ministry gives us Marks Gospel in a nutshell, and the questions it raises are as much of a road map as Mark will allow us in following the mystery that is Jesus the Christ of God.

The Gospel of John is filled with long, illuminating discourses. Jesus announces his identity with the most perfectly conspicuous titles: "I am the Bread of Life," "I am the Good Shepherd, .... I am the Resurrection and the Life." In Mark only the unclean spirits spew out the christological particulars. Talk about unreliable informants. What are we to make of disclosures breathed with the odor of fire and brimstone?

Jesus is the teacher par excellence in Matthew's Gospel. In the 13th chapter, for example, he relates one parable after another: the sower, the wheat and the weeds, the treasure hidden in a field, the pearl merchant. At the conclusion of this discourse, Jesus asks the disciples if they understand, and they chirp in blithe self-assurance, "Sure, you bet we do." Jesus is no less a teacher in Mark's Gospel, though seldom are his teachings understood. When Jesus begins to teach openly, the first lesson whistles past the disciples like a Nolan Ryan fast ball. Jesus tells the parable of the sower, then stands appalled at the disciples' thickness: "Do you not understand this parable? Then how will you understand all the parables?" Jesus teaches with authority, but no one knows what to make of either his authority or his teachings. Luke's story provides a pair of resurrection appearances before transporting readers "to all nations," even "to the ends of the earth," but Mark's Gospel leaves us standing at the open tomb, watching as women dash away in fear and amazement. What is it that has happened here? The narrative has built anticipation by hinting at more to come, but leaves us without the consolation of a satisfactory conclusion. Immediately we look around for something more. Questions have been posed, and we seek answers. What does this have to do with us, and what is this--a new teaching?

Yes, exactly that: a new teaching. Mark explains, "With many such parables he spoke the word to them," but in this Gospel, suggests John Donahue, S.J., Jesus not only teaches in parables, he is himself "the parable of God." Jesus appears in the synagogue of Capernaum as he appears in the entire Gospel: as an enigma wrapped in a mystery. The things Jesus does and says are straightforward enough to seize our interest, yet sufficiently cryptic to tantalize us into actively pursuing some satisfaction for our wonderment. To say that Jesus is "Christ, the Son of God," as Mark reveals at the beginning and end of his Gospel, is both to say too little and to say too much too quickly. We discover who this one is not by recalling formulaic titles but by following a thoroughfare of questions which leads to a cross--and beyond.