Mark 5

Mark 5 (ESV): Jesus heals some people

Synopsis

Once again I’m combining a couple of ESV section headings into one post because they’re thematically connected: verses 1–20 (ESV) talk about Jesus healing a demon-possessed man, and verses 21–43 (ESV) talk about him healing a young girl who has died—with an aside in which he heals a woman with a “discharge of blood.”

The first healing takes place in a place called Gerasenes; I don’t know if that’s significant, but that’s what we’re told. A demon-possessed man is living there among the tombs, crying out and cutting himself with stones. We are told that people have tried to subdue him in the past but that they haven’t been able to because of the man’s strength: he wrenches chains apart and breaks shackles in pieces. But when he sees Jesus from a distance he runs over and falls down before him.

And crying out with a loud voice, he said, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I adjure you by God, do not torment me.” (verse 7 (ESV))

Jesus asks the man—or rather, asks the demon living in the man—what his name is, and the demons respond that their name is Legion, for there are many demons living in the man. The demons beg Jesus not to send them into the countryside; since there is a herd of pigs feeding nearby they ask Jesus for permission to go into the pigs instead. Jesus gives the demons permission, they go into the pigs, and then the pigs rush into the sea where they drown.

At this point the men who’d been herding the pigs run into town to tell everyone what happened, and people from town come out to see for themselves. Those who had witnessed the event recount it for them, and, perhaps more importantly, they see the man sitting with Jesus, clothed and in his right mind, and that’s the best proof of all as to what has happened. Proof enough, in fact, that the people become very afraid, and beg Jesus to leave their region. Jesus does so, and the formerly demon-possessed man asks to go with him, but Jesus tells him to stay where he is instead and spread the word throughout the region as to what the Lord has done for him. The man does so, and people marvel at his words.

Meanwhile Jesus goes back across the sea, and is met by a ruler of the synagogue named Jairus, who falls at Jesus’ feet and implores Jesus to come home with him to heal his daughter, who is “at the point of death” (verse 23 (ESV)). Jesus agrees and goes with Jairus, but on the way, as he is passing through the crowds, a woman touches him hoping to be healed of her own illness.

For the last twelve years she has had a “discharge of blood” (verse 25 (ESV)) and has spent all she had on physicians, but is getting worse instead of better. Her faith in Jesus is strong enough that she feels she can be healed just by touching his clothes, and her faith is rewarded because as soon as she does so she can sense that she is healed. She may also be trying to soften the blow of touching a clean man, since she herself is unclean from her continual bleeding. According to the ceremonial law this would make Jesus unclean, and perhaps she is hoping that by confining her touch to his garments, and not his physical person, this will not be the case.

However, her attempts to conceal herself fail because Jesus realizes that power has gone out from him, and turns to the crowd to ask who touched him. His disciples get a bit sarcastic with him on that point—he’s in the middle of a crowd, all kinds of people are touching him—but he will not take that for an answer, he wants to talk to the person who was just healed. The woman realizes that the game is up and comes to fall down before him and admit to what has happened. Instead of getting in trouble for making him unclean, however, Jesus praises the woman’s faith and tells her to go in peace.

But even while he is talking to her some people come from Jairus’ house to inform him that his daughter has died, and therefore he doesn’t need to bother Jesus anymore. Jesus overhears them, and tells Jairus not to fear. He then brings just a few of the disciples (Peter, James and John) with him and Jairus and goes to Jairus’ house, where people are wailing and mourning for the loss of the little girl. Jesus tells them that they don’t need to mourn because the girl isn’t dead, only sleeping, but the people laugh at him because they know that the girl is dead. But Jesus takes his few disciples and the girl’s parents into the room with her, takes her by the hand, and tells her to get up, whereupon she does. They are amazed by this, but Jesus instructs them not to tell anyone. He also tells them to give the girl something to eat.

Thoughts

In the last passage Jesus’ disciples saw Him calm a storm, which gave them an idea of who He really is. They don’t yet have the full picture, but they’re starting to move in the right direction. In this passage it seems that the demons might be a step ahead of the disciples; when they see Jesus, even from a distance, they immediately know who He is and recognize his power over them. Perhaps the disciples can be somewhat excused on this point since the spiritual realm is somewhat hidden from us whereas the demons live in that realm (I think), but it’s interesting nonetheless.

I’m not sure why the demons prefer to go to the pigs rather than being cast into the countryside, but we see Jesus’ power over them in that they can’t do it without His permission. They resist Jesus up to a point, and don’t come out of the man immediately, but eventually they must succumb.

And then, once the townspeople see what Jesus has done, they react the same way that the disciples had when He calmed the storm: they are afraid. Well… it’s not exactly the same reaction, because they go further and ask Jesus to leave. The disciples didn’t ask Him to leave.

I don’t know how important it is to the story, but by the time the woman approaches Jesus she is in pretty rough shape. She is penniless (or nearly so) because she’s been spending all of her money on doctors; she is probably continually weak from loss of blood; she would be unable to worship with her fellow Jews because this continual bleeding would make her ceremonially unclean—and that last point is definitely important to the story because she probably doesn’t believe that Jesus would be willing to touch her, because it would make Him unclean. Little does she know that Jesus is the one person who can actually touch an unclean thing and make it clean, which is not how the ceremonial laws typically work. She was trying to be sneaky and touch him without his knowledge, but it worked out fine in the end.

It has always struck me, when Jesus goes to Jairus’ house, how quickly the people turn from wailing and weeping to laughing at him. However, the ESV Study Bible points out that some of the people in the crowd are probably “professional mourners,” who are paid to weep and wail in this manner, so I can easily see them quickly turning from “doing their job” to laughing at something which struck them as funny. Obviously Jesus has the last laugh in this case.

Mark 4:35–41

Mark 4:35–41 (ESV): Jesus Calms a Storm

Synopsis

This passage starts with Jesus telling his disciples, “Let us go across to the other side” [of the Sea of Galilee] (verse 35 (ESV)). So he and his disciples get into a boat to cross the sea, and Jesus goes to the stern to sleep on a cushion. During the night a great windstorm arises, and the disciples get scared—so scared that they wake Jesus, and ask him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” (verse 38 (ESV)).

Jesus wakes up and “rebukes” the wind and the sea, telling them to “be still” (verse 39 (ESV)), and the weather stops.

At this point Jesus rebukes his disciples:

He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” (verse 40 (ESV))

This fills the disciples with even more fear, however, but now their fear is of Jesus, as they wonder who this could be that even the wind and the sea obeys him.

Thoughts

I purposely started this post by quoting Jesus telling the disciples, “Let us go across to the other side.” Jesus never promised his disciples that they wouldn’t die. He didn’t promise them that their lives would be easy. (Quite the opposite!) But, on this one occasion, he did promise them that they would go to the other side of the sea. He didn’t say so in so many words, of course; he didn’t come right out and say to his disciples, “Hey guys, I promise you, we’re going to go to the other side of the sea. Even though there will be a bad storm during the night, it won’t prevent us from getting there.” He just said, “Let us go across to the other side.” Normally that would be enough for the disciples; “Jesus said we’re going to the other side of the sea, so we’re going to go to the other side of the sea.” It’s only in the face of a huge storm that they question it, and think—even if not in their conscious minds—that “surely this storm makes Jesus’ earlier statement null and void. He said we’re going there, but he didn’t have this storm in mind when he said it.”

It’s important that we note, however, that this probably isn’t anything that the disciples were specifically and consciously thinking. I don’t think anyone thought to himself, “Jesus said we’re going to the other side, but I don’t believe him anymore.” I think they just saw the storm, got afraid, and thought about nothing more than their fear. And I make that point because I think that’s how we all fall into our occasional bouts of faithlessness. I very much doubt that Christians get into situations and consciously think to themselves, “God is powerless in this situation! There is absolutely nothing He can do—it’s out of His control!” Yet, though we’re not thinking that consciously, that is in effect what we’re thinking when we get into situations that cause us to panic; there is no reason to panic unless God is not in control, so if we panic it’s because we believe, on some level, that He is not.

Or perhaps we are thinking that He is in control, but simply doesn’t care about us. As the disciples asked Jesus, “do you not care that we are perishing?” Perhaps, when we get into bad situations, we forget God’s character, and start to wonder if perhaps He has abandoned us. But if that’s the case, the best way to combat our panic would probably be to meditate on His character.

This passage ends with the disciples even more afraid of Jesus than they had been of the storm—but I’m thinking that this fear is more acceptable to God, since it is now “fear of the Lord.” The wind and the sea had been scary enough, but humans are used to the fact that we can’t control the weather. When the disciples met someone who actually could, it shook them. Their question is a valid one: “Who is this?” This situation gave them a glimpse of who He actually is.

Mark 4:26–34

Mark 4:26–34 (ESV): The Parable of the Seed Growing, and The Parable of the Mustard Seed

Synopsis

In this passage—which is actually two ESV sections combined together—Jesus explains what the “kingdom of God” is like using metaphors involving seeds:

• In verses 26–29 (ESV) we have the Parable of the Seed Growing, in which Jesus tells us that the kingdom of God is like seed scattered on the ground: we don’t really know how it grows, we just know that it does—and when it does, we know to get out the sickle for the harvest.
• In verses 30–32 (ESV) we have the Parable of the Mustard Seed, in which Jesus compares the kingdom of God to a mustard seed: the smallest of all seeds, yet when it is planted it grows into a plant which is larger than any other garden plant—large enough that birds can even make nests in its shade.

Verses 33–34 (ESV) reiterate that Jesus only speaks to the crowd in parables, whereas he privately explains all of these parables to his own disciples.

Thoughts

In my mind these two metaphors are pretty straightforward: just like seeds which are planted in the ground, we don’t really know all of the mechanics of how the kingdom of God works, but that doesn’t change the fact that we know that it does work, and we behave accordingly: we “plant the seed” (i.e. spread the Gospel to people who haven’t heard it), and we “reap the harvest” (i.e. disciple those who have come to faith). We don’t have to know how it works, we just have to know that it does. And just like planting a mustard seed produces a very large plant, spreading the Gospel has produced a very large Church, which continues to grow day by day.

We can push this metaphor even further: although we might not always have been able to understand all of the mechanics of how seeds grow (though I’m sure science has come far enough in the last 2,000 years or so that we understand most if not all of it by now), we have always had certain techniques for planting seeds, and known that some techniques worked better than others. For example, if you plant seeds in fertile ground they will grow better than if you spread them over bare rock. Techniques have improved over the centuries, much of the growth of civilization on this planet comes from improvements to agriculture, but we’ve always known that some things work better than others. Similarly, if you want to “grow a Christian,” how do you do it? You give them the Word of God. It may or may not work—the seed planted doesn’t always take hold—but nothing else does. There are lots of techniques and formulae and methodologies for evangelism, and many of them have merit, but any attempt to evangelize without actually giving the Gospel will fail to produce saving faith. You might convince someone to try a new lifestyle, or think about a new philosophy of life, but only the Gospel will produce true repentance leading to saving faith.

Mark 4:21–25

Mark 4:21–25 (ESV): A Lamp Under a Basket

Synopsis

I was going to combine a few sections together into one post—Jesus uses a number of metaphors in a row to explain the kingdom of God—but I decided to cover this short one on its own instead. This passage seems to be continuing on the conversation from the previous post, when Jesus was telling the Parable of the Sower.

Here he uses the metaphor of a lamp: a lamp is put on a stand for its light to be shown throughout the house, it isn’t put under a basket or under a bed. After all, what would be the purpose of having a lamp in the first place if you were going to hide its light? Jesus, speaking metaphorically, says that this is because “nothing is hidden except to be made manifest; nor is anything secret except to come to light” (verse 22 (ESV)).

Jesus then brings in a different metaphor, and talks about measurements:

And he said to them, “Pay attention to what you hear: with the measure you use, it will be measured to you, and still more will be added to you. For to the one who has, more will be given, and from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away.” (verses 24–25 (ESV))

We’ll see what Jesus means by this potentially paradoxical statement below.

Thoughts

In the metaphor of the lamp, the lamp represents the kingdom of God. When we are saved, we show the world that we are saved through our good works; what would be the point of being saved if we didn’t do any good works? It would be like buying a lamp and then putting a basket over it so that no light got out; what would be the point of buying a lamp and then not letting it shine its light? That lamp would be useless to everyone.

And what is the reason that lamp shines? To make manifest what was hidden, and to bring to light what was secret. In your house, you use a lamp to be able to see things which would otherwise be hidden by the dark; in the world, the kingdom of God brings to light hidden things such as hard hearts and sin. (This is a point I got from the ESV Study Bible, and I think they’re absolutely right.) To personalize it: I should lead such a good life that a non-Christian’s life, by contrast, is shown to be what it is: sinful. This should lead that person to seek to better him/herself, and eventually bring them into the kingdom of God, to shine for others.

Jesus then switches gears, and goes on to talk about how we measure what we hear. Luke 8:18 (ESV) is a parallel passage:

“Take care then how you hear, for to the one who has, more will be given, and from the one who has not, even what he thinks that he has will be taken away.”

If you hear the Word and receive it, God will give to you even more—that is, even better understanding of the Word. Becoming a Christian isn’t just a one-time occurence, there is also an aspect of continual growth and development, led by the Spirit and by the Word of God. Once you have received it, God will continue to give you more and more of it, but if you refuse it, the things that you do have—the things that are not of God—will eventually be taken away from you.

Mark 4:1–20

Mark 4:1–20 (ESV): The Parable of the Sower, and The Purpose of Parables

Synopsis

In this passage Jesus tells a large crowd the parable of the sower (verses 1–9 (ESV)), finishing appropriately enough with the sentence, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” Later on, when he is alone with the twelve Apostles and some others, they ask him to explain the parable to them. His answer is fascinating:

And he said to them, “To you has been given the secret of the kingdom of God, but for those outside everything is in parables, so that

“they may indeed see but not perceive,
  and may indeed hear but not understand,
lest they should turn and be forgiven.”

And he said to them, “Do you not understand this parable? How then will you understand all the parables?”

(verses 11–13 (ESV))

He then goes on to explain the entire parable to them.

Metaphor	Explanation
The Sower	One who is sowing—or spreading—the Word
The Path	Represents people who hear the Word, but before it can take root it is snatched away by Satan
Rocky Ground	Represents people who hear the Word and joyfully recieve it, only to fall away when “tribulation or persecution” come (verse 17 (ESV)) because they have no “root”
Thorny Ground (sown among thorns)	Represents people who hear the Word but it bears no fruit in them because it is choked out by “the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches and the desires for other things” (verse 19 (ESV))
Good Soil	Represents those who hear the Word, accept it, and bear fruit

Thoughts

Why did Jesus speak in parables so often? Is it because we find stories easier to remember than simple facts? Is it because He wanted us to remember the lessons He gave in the parables, and doing so in stories was a good way for our memories to work? That may indeed be part of the answer, but it’s not what He told His followers in this passage. He told them that He spoke in parables, “so that they may … see but not perceive, and … hear but not understand, lest they should turn and be forgiven.” So… why did Jesus use parables? Quite the opposite of what I said above, He is saying here that He used parables so that the crowds listening to him would not perceive, and not understand. He wasn’t attempting to make things more clear, He was attempting to make things less clear! At least, that was the case for the majority; for His disciples He approached things differently and explained the parables, because to them had been given “the secret of the kingdom of God” (verse 11 (ESV)).

This isn’t how we think. We’d expect Jesus to be as clear as possible to His listeners, explaining things fully and in intricate detail, so that as many as possible would understand and come to Him for forgiveness. But that’s not His approach. He only does that with His disciples—and that’s the key. Jesus already knows who are His and who are not; He can specifically explain things properly to His disciples and not do so with others because He knows which are which. Whether His disciples understand or not—and we see very often in the Gospels that they did not—Jesus knew who was who. He knew which seed had been planted in good soil, even if it wasn’t yet bearing fruit.

Which brings me to the other aspect of this story: Jesus speaks about planting metaphorical seed, which grows (or should grow) to produce metaphorical fruit. But what is that fruit? I think a lot of Christians take this to mean further Christians—that is, when I come to believe my fruit is that I spread the Word to others who will become Christians, and their fruit is that they will in turn spread it to still others, who will believe, and so on. I think we feel that way because Jesus ends the metaphor by talking about producing quantities of fruit; thirtyfold and sixtyfold and a hundredfold. It makes us think that those fruit are additional converts—I become a Christian, and I spread the word, and thirty or sixty or a hundred others become Christians too. But I don’t think that’s what Jesus is talking about here at all. The seed is the Word of God—the Gospel—whereas the fruit is belief. Or, if you will, the fruit is the Holy Spirit. Or, if you will, the fruit is Godly living.

You may very well spread the Word to others. In fact you should. They may very well come to Christ, as we hope they will… but they may not. There have been well known Christian missionaries who spent their lives in the mission fields with only a few converts, far short of the thirty- or sixty- or hundredfold yield that Jesus talks about here. And I’d dare say that there are those who have come to Christ through preaching from false preachers and charlatans. Spreading the Word is only one aspect of the fruit which is produced. What are some other aspects? Well, the list given in Galatians 5:22 (ESV) is: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, [and] self-control.” That’s what is produced when the seed takes root in “good soil.” Don’t be confused by Jesus talking about a large yield; that just means that the Christian should be very loving, should be full of joy, should be full of peace, should be very patient, should be very kind, should be very good, should be entirely faithful, should be very gentle, and should have the utmost self control.

In that light, do you think you’re producing thirtyfold? Sixty? A hundred? Sometimes it feels like I’m lucky if I’m bearing any fruit at all…

If you want to push this metaphor to the limit, think of it this way:

• The seed, as mentioned, is the Word of God
• What does the seed produce? A plant. This is the new you that came into being when you become a Christian—the spiritual person that is born when you are born again.
• A plant produces more than one piece of fruit in its lifetime. (Or it should.) It produces fruit regularly, every season, as the Christian should be constantly producing fruit.
  • Don’t push the metaphor too far and think that there are specific “seasons” in which to produce fruit—this plant should be producing fruit at all times.
• The fruit that is produced nourishes others, as our lives should nourish and help others when we let the Holy Spirit do His work.
• One thing that comes out of fruit is additional seeds, which can be planted to produce additional plants. But those seeds have the same DNA as the original seeds—when we give the Gospel, we don’t invent a new one, we give the same Gospel that we received.
  • Sometimes that happens purely organically. A piece of fruit falls from a tree, ends up at a particular spot, and over time the seeds from that fruit just take root and start to grow. Do you know anyone who’s become a Christian simply through the Christian example of believers they knew?
  • Fruit doesn’t always grow on its own this way, however. In many—most?—instances someone has to purposely take the seeds from a piece of fruit and plant them, and water them, and fertilize them. I think this is how most Christians become believers: Someone makes a point of explaining the Gospel to them, and tries to make things clear (because, unlike Jesus, we don’t know who is going to believe and who isn’t—so we always aim high, and hope that our listeners will), and does their best to nurture the growing of that seed, hoping against hope that it has taken root in good soil.

Mark 3:31–35

Mark 3:31–35 (ESV): Jesus’ Mother and Brothers

This is a fairly simple passage (in my mind), yet it took me a long time to write this post. (That doesn’t mean that the reader should expect anything deep.)

Synopsis

Over the last few passages Jesus has healed a man on the Sabbath (angering the Pharisees), had great crowds follow him, cast out demons, named the twelve Apostles, been accused of colluding with the devil, and talked about a sin which he called “blasphemy against the Holy Spirit.” In this passage his mother and brothers come to collect him, presumably because they want to reign him in a bit. Not to put too fine a point on it, they probably think Jesus is insane.

But when they get to the place where Jesus is teaching and send for him, and the people tell Jesus that his mother and brothers are outside looking for him, he says something strange; he rhetorically asks them, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” (verse 33 (ESV), emphasis added), and then looks around at the others in the room, and says, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of God, he is my brother and sister and mother” (verses 34–35 (ESV), emphasis added).

Thoughts

Anyone who talks about this passage probably starts off exactly the way that I’m about to start, or at the very least brings up this point at some point: Jesus is not against the family, or saying that the family is not important. I would argue (though I might be on shakier ground on this point) that He is not even saying that the family is less important than the Church family, just important in different ways. (As I say, I feel I’m on shaky ground on this one, so I’m not going to argue the point if people disagree.) However, in this particular case Jesus’ family is trying to prevent Him from executing part of His ministry, and when it comes to “choosing your family” or “choosing God,” God always has to come first. (I put those in quotes because it’s rare that there are such stark decision points to be made.)

The ideal case, of course, is that a believer’s family will consist of other believers, in which case there will be a definite closeness between the family that even the relationship with other believers won’t be able to match. In the case where a believer has a family of unbelievers, however, there will be two types of familial relationships that exist: the relationship between the believer and other believers (the Church), and the relationship between the believer and his/her family. This passage is not teaching us that we have to leave our family in this case and choose the Church over our blood relatives. I don’t think we’d want to push this verse any further than to say that when we do have to choose between our families and God, we choose God. Thankfully there are few times that one must make these types of decisions (at least in North America).

In this case Jesus felt it was more important to stay where he was and teach the people with him than for him to go home with his family, so he chose to stay. But that doesn’t mean that he left his family; we see that even up to Jesus’ death on the cross he was still caring for his mother (John 19:25–27 (ESV)), so he definitely remained her son.

For the modern-day Christian, at least in North America, I think the trick is probably twofold:

1. How do you know when you should legitimately “choose God” over “choosing your family?” If your non-Christian family has a special occasion happening on a Sunday and you have to choose between that and going to church, what do you do? Is it really such a big deal to miss church for one Sunday? Would you be making a spiritual point with your family by going to church—or would you be simply causing arguments? This is a trivial example—I seem to make all of my examples trivial ones—but there are a thousand other examples people could come up with where the choice would be much more important.
2. When you should legitimately “choose God” over “choosing your family,” how do you best approach it? Should you be confrontational with your family and make a point of it, or should you be sheepish about it? (I’m guessing neither of these is the best answer, and something in between is best.) Sometimes Christians in North America can be tempted to try and turn little situations like this into big situations, and personally I think that this approach can be counterproductive, whereas taking an approach whereby you’re firm but not defiant can produce a lot more fruit.

Mark 3:22–30

Mark 3:22–30 (ESV): Blasphemy Against the Holy Spirit

Synopsis

Over on the sidebar of this blog there’s a little blurb talking about the fact that I’m just a layperson, not by any means a biblical scholar. I put that there because of passages like this one. This is probably considered a pretty controversial passage^*, and I’d hate for people to put more weight on my words than is warranted. Hopefully this post will help people to think about the topic, even if they come to different conclusions than I did. (^*When I say that this passage is “controversial,” all I mean is that there is probably wide disagreement about what Jesus means by “blasphemy against the Holy Spirit,” not that there are Church divisions caused by this post or anything along those lines.)

So, with that said, let’s jump into it!

Oh, no, one last point: I think it’s interesting that I’m posting on this passage today, since my Pastor preached on Luke 11:14–26 (ESV) recently, which is a parallel passage. I’m hoping he doesn’t read this blog, or else he may be looking to see how much I absorbed…

There. Now we can begin.

In this passage some religious teachers accuse Jesus of being possessed by Beelzebul (some translations might have this written as Beelzebub), and claiming that the only reason Jesus can cast out demons is by the power of the “prince of demons” (i.e. Satan). Jesus responds by asking them how Satan can cast himself out, and gives a famous quote:

If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but is coming to an end. But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his goods, unless he first binds the strong man. Then indeed he may plunder his house. (verses 24–27 (ESV))

And finally Jesus ends with the part that I find the least accessible, as a layperson:

“Truly, I say to you, all sins will be forgiven the children of man, and whatever blasphemies they utter, but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”—for they were saying, “He has an unclean spirit.” (verses 28–30 (ESV))

More on this below.

Thoughts

In the ESV version of this passage the religious teachers accuse Jesus of being possessed by Beelzebul, while some other translations (e.g. the KJV and NKJV) instead use the name Beelzebub with which some people might be more familiar (since we’re remembering it from the KJV days). The names came from a Philistine god named Ba’al Zebul, which means “Ba’al is exalted” or “Master of the High Places.” The Hebrews, in derision of this “god,” gave it the name Ba’al Zebub; “Zebub” means “flies,” so Ba’al Zebub is “Lord of the Flies.” I have also heard told that “Lord of the Flies” might be a more polite way of putting it; we all know where flies tend to congregate, and there are those who say that Ba’al Zebul is actually more akin to “Lord of Dung” (or perhaps a less polite word for dung—you know the one I mean). In any event, in Greek Ba’al Zebul became Beelzebul and Ba’al Zebub became Beelzebub. As for why some translations chose to use Beelzebub and others chose to use Beelzebul, my “research” didn’t turn anything up. What it did turn up, though, is that over time these names began to be applied to Satan, which is how they seem to be used in this passage. Actually, even the name “Satan” only gradually began to be applied to him as a proper name; it was originally simply a type of being—there are angels and there are satans—but eventually the proper name Satan began to be used for the “main” or “head” satan.

Jesus’ comment about entering a strong man’s house and plundering it is intended to show that he has power over Satan; that no matter how strong Satan may be, Jesus is able to overpower him. This, and the point about having a divided kingdom, are simply intended to show people that they haven’t really thought things through, when they accuse Jesus of being possessed by Satan, or of colluding with him. The idea doesn’t make sense.

And finally there is the “blasphemy against the Holy Spirit” passage, which I did actually talk about when I posted about Matthew 12:22–32. (I also talked about the Beelzebub/Beelzebul thing, but I think what I’ve put in this post is probably more detailed.) This passage has the power not just to confuse but to outright scare; Jesus talks here about a sin that is unforgivable. That has probably caused a lot of fear in a lot of Christians over the millenia with the worry of, “what if I’ve committed that sin, and God won’t forgive me for it?” I don’t blame people for having that kind of worry—we are talking about life and death here!—but at the same time it seems pretty inconsistent with the rest of the New Testament. If that were the case, the story of the New Testament would be that we are all sinners who need to be saved by Grace, but that the Son of God came and lived a sinless life and died to take away our sins, and once you belong to Him you can never be snatched away—unless you commit this one particular sin, and then you’re out and can’t get back in. Oh, and it’s not really 100% clear what that one unforgivable sin is, because “blasphemy against the Holy Spirit” isn’t 100% clear. Does that sound right to you?

There is a situation in which your sins will not be forgiven, though. If you aren’t covered by the blood of the Lamb, if you aren’t born again, if you aren’t a child of God, whatever way you want to phrase it… if you aren’t saved, what that really boils down to is that your sins are not forgiven. Maybe you don’t think of that as “blasphemy against the Spirit,” frankly I don’t typically think of it in those words either, but the fact is that if your sins aren’t forgiven, they’re not forgiven—it needs to be fixed. Don’t fixate on the particular sins that have been committed; everyone who has ever lived (except for the Son of God) has committed countless sins that deserve punishment. Fixate on the One who can forgive you for those sins.

Mark 3:13–21

Mark 3:13–21 (ESV): The Twelve Apostles

Synopsis

In this passage Jesus goes up onto a mountain (I’m not sure which mountain, but it probably doesn’t matter), to appoint the twelve apostles, “so that they might be with him and he might send them out to preach and have authority to cast out demons” (verses 14–15 (ESV)). These are the twelve men he appointed:

• Simon (to whom he gave the name Peter)
• James the son of Zebedee, and
• John the brother of James
  • He gave James and John the name Boanerges, that is, Sons of Thunder
• Andrew
• Philip
• Bartholomew
• Matthew
• Thomas
• James the son of Alphaeus
• Thaddaeus
• Simon the Zealot
• Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him

That list is mostly quoted but partially paraphrased from verses 14–19 (ESV).

After this Jesus goes back home, but the crowd gathers around him once more, and it’s so bad that he can’t even eat. His family hears about it and go out to seize him, thinking that he’s out of his mind.

Thoughts

It’s interesting to me that I don’t know a single thing about some of the twelve apostles except that they were on this list. Bartholomew, for example, or Thaddaeus; the Bible doesn’t say anything about these two men, aside from putting them on this list. And yet they were two of the founders upon which the Church was built; they will be sitting with Jesus in Glory, ruling with Him. I have no doubt that they were right there along with Peter and James and John and Paul in founding the Church, Jesus chose them for specifically that reason, yet God chose not to tell us anything about them except that they were apostles. And we should remember that this is not a bad thing—it’s not that these men didn’t do anything to be counted worthy of more mention in the Bible. Quite the contrary, the Bible prompts us to do good works without being seen and getting our reward on this earth; it could very well be that some of the lesser known apostles have received a greater reward than the more well known ones. I don’t feel confident enough to say that it must be so, but I surely wouldn’t be surprised if it is so.

Aside from that, I find it interesting that we are told that the crowd around Jesus is so bad that he can’t even eat. Is this because He is too busy healing people? Or teaching? Or both? We don’t know. But we know that he can’t even take time out to satisfy his own basis human needs, and have food.

And the third thing I find interesting is that the large crowds prompt Jesus’ family to think that he’s out of his mind. You would think that it would prompt Jesus’ family to think that the crowds are out of their mind, but they focus on Jesus. We know that some of Jesus’ family later became believers; I don’t know if they were among the family members in this passage who are believing he is out of his mind. It’s quite possible they are; I’m sure there were times when His ministry was strange enough to their eyes that they would have had these and worse thoughts. We don’t always understand everything all at once; sometimes we only get things piece by piece.

Mark 3:7–12

Mark 3:7–12 (ESV): A Great Crowd Follows Jesus

Synopsis

This is a less complex passage than most of the passages we usually look at. Jesus and his disciples “withdraw” to the sea, but a great crowd of people follows them there because they’ve heard all that he has been doing. I say “but” because the implication I’m getting is that what Jesus is “withdrawing” from is the crowds; if so, God the Father has other plans for Jesus.

Jesus has his disciples get a boat for him so that the crowd doesn’t crush him. This is a valid concern, we are told, because Jesus has been healing so many people and casting out so many unclean spirits that the crowd is pressing in on him. We are also told that when the unclean spirits are coming out of people they are crying out that Jesus is the Son of God, but Jesus is strictly ordering them not to make him known.

Thoughts

Verses 7 and 8 (ESV) tell us that the crowd following Jesus is from “Galilee and Judea and Jerusalem and Idumea and from beyond the Jordan and from around Tyre and Sidon.” In other words, as the ESV Study Bible points out:

Despite serious opposition, Jesus is now known in Galilee, in Judea (including Jerusalem) and Idumea (to the south), in the area beyond the Jordan (to the east …), and in Tyre and Sidon (to the north). All of these regions had belonged to Israel during the time of the judges, and descendants of the 12 tribes have now resettled in these regions following the Babylonian exile.

So Jesus has people coming from all over to see him.

I was confused, earlier in my Christian life, as to why Jesus would so often silence the unclean spirits; they are telling people that Jesus is the Son of God, wouldn’t that be a good thing? It wasn’t until later that it occurred to me (or was pointed out) that it’s about timing; Jesus is not yet ready, at this point, to be crucified, so he doesn’t want the unclean spirits (or anyone else) getting Him crucified before He is ready for it. The ESV Study Bible points out another thing that maybe should have been obvious to me, but didn’t occur to me until they said it: The unclean spirits might have known that it wasn’t time for Jesus to reveal Himself—and therefore, they were trying to mess up his timetable. In other words, they’re trying to actively work against Jesus by telling people who He is. If that’s true (and it seems plausible to me), it’s a real mind-bender: trying to work against the Son of God by proclaiming him to people.

Mark 3:1–6

Mark 3:1–6 (ESV): A Man with a Withered Hand

Synopsis

In this passage Jesus goes into the Jewish synagogue where there happens to be a man with a “withered hand.” The Pharisees obviously know about this man, as well as knowing Jesus’ reputation, so they watch to see if Jesus will heal the man on the Sabbath. Specifically, they watch him “so that they might accuse him” (verse 2 (ESV)).

Jesus, of course, knows what’s up and decides to use this as a teaching moment. He has the man come to him, and then asks the Pharisees, “Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do harm, to save life or to kill?” (verse 4 (ESV)). They don’t answer him, however, they just stay silent, which angers him. Without even touching the man (that we are told) he asks him to stretch out his hand, and when the man does the hand is healed.

At this point we are not told of any further interaction between Jesus and the Pharisees; they simply immediately run out to hold counsel with Herod’s people on how they might destroy Jesus.

Thoughts

I’m sure I’ve said this before, but there is a certain point of view from which I sympathize with part of what the Pharisees are trying to do: The Messiah would never sin, so if healing on the Sabbath is a sin then doing so would be an obvious proof that Jesus was not the Messiah. And that last part is true: if healing on the Sabbath had been a sin Jesus never would have done it. If Jesus had ever committed a sin, whether breaking the Sabbath or stealing or something else, it would have proven that He wasn’t the Messiah.

The problem is obviously with the first part of the logical construct: healing on the Sabbath wasn’t a sin. This is a case where the Pharisees have constructed their own rules around God’s Law and taken their rules to be more important than the underlying Law itself; in this case, they care more about strict legalism than they do about a human being. (Their laws are sometimes inconsistent; in other places Jesus points these inconsistencies out to them. For some reason, however, the Pharisees never seem to appreciate his help on the matter…)

I do find it interesting, however, that when Jesus calls them out specifically on this issue that they have no answer for him.

And he said to them, “Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do harm, to save life or to kill?” But they were silent. And he looked around at them with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart, and said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was restored. (verses 4–5 (ESV))

Is this because they have no good answer for him and they know it? Do they know that they’re just dogmatically clinging to this rule of theirs, realizing that they won’t be able to argue the point properly with Jesus—that they don’t have a leg to stand on? For some reason I’m reminded of Jesus’ message to the church of Laodicea, where He rebukes them for being lukewarm—neither hot nor cold (Revelation 3:14–22 (ESV), especially 15–16 (ESV)). It makes me wonder if Jesus would have been less angry if the Pharisees had actually argued with him on the point, even though they were wrong. Perhaps if they’d had the argument with him, though, he could have made his point? No, probably not.

Anyway, as we see from the story they didn’t. They didn’t say anything as far as we’re told; they just ran straight out to Herod’s people to conspire about “destroying” Jesus. Herod, by the way, is the Jewish King who’s been put in place by the Romans; he doesn’t have a lot of real power, but he has some autonomy to rule the Jewish people. In going to him the Pharisees aren’t making a religious move, they’re making a political one: they are hoping to convince Herod that Jesus is going to be a threat to civic order, which will make the Romans get angry and step in to deal with the situation. This is a ploy the Pharisees try on a number of occasions: if they can show that Jesus isn’t loyal to the Romans then the Romans can deal with him; if they can convince Herod that Jesus is a threat to civil order then maybe Herod can deal with him. If they can’t get rid of him one way, they’ll try another.

Finally, we notice from this passage that anger, in and of itself, is not a sin. Jesus gets angry with the Pharisees in this passage, and grieves at their hardness of heart. Why is He angry with them? Is it because they don’t understand? I don’t think so; compare this with his interaction with Nicodemus in John 3:1–21 (ESV); he’s not happy with Nicodemus (“Are you the teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things?”), but neither does he seem to be angry at him. Here, though, he is angry with the Pharisees. The difference is that phrase “hardness of heart” which we see in this passage: “And he looked around at them with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart, …” Nicodemus didn’t understand, and Jesus found that somewhat bothersome—he should have known better as one of the Jews’ leaders—but in this case the Pharisees are being purposely stubborn. It’s not that they don’t understand, it’s that they won’t understand. These are not stupid men; they could have looked into the Scriptures and seen Jesus’ point, but they had no interest in doing so. They were invested in their own system, and had no interest in looking past that, to consider what God really required of them.

The dangerous question, of course, is whether we do the same thing in modern times. (I mean dangerous only to our own egos; it’s actually a necessary question, even though we’d hope that the answer is no.) Are there any aspects of the Christian “religion” or Christian “culture” that we cling to, regardless of what the Scriptures tell us? Any example I can think of would be contrived; maybe the best I can do is, what if a friend needed help and you told them you couldn’t because you have to go to a church event? (A little too “on the nose,” maybe.) Or maybe a friend needs some extra money, but you can’t give it to them because you want to donate that money for the church potluck instead? Or you want to witness to a Muslim friend but your North American (including Christian) friends don’t want you associating with Muslims in any way shape or form?

I don’t know; the problem is that cultural issues are hard to discern—if there are issues where our culture gets in the way of doing what God wants I might not realize it from being blinded by my own cultural biases. It should be a matter of prayer for us, though, and if there are instances where our church culture diverges from the Word, we need to go against the grain—even within our own Christian sub-culture.