Mark 1:9-15
“In those days, Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee ans was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’”
The first insight I have here is hardly interesting or innovative. However, I have to say that it seems to me that Jesus is the only one who sees the Spirit and hears the voice. I find this important for two reasons. The first is that it underscores the interior, personal aspect of relationship with God. The second, related, reason is that it reminds us that, even when we are dealing with the Son of God, we cannot expect to see the visions and miracles we ask for as signs. We have to trust in what God teaches us, and compare that to those who claim to speak in his name.
Almost everyone alive today, as far as I can tell, did not come to the faith through a theophany witnessed by multitudes. We came to the faith because of a personal, inward experience that convinced us of an external reality of which we were previously unaware. (That is, it doesn’t just convict us of our sin. It also inspires us with a knowledge of forgiveness, an experience of salvation, and an evangelistic calling.) This experience is testified to by others, biblical prophets and contemporary teachers, and in incorporates us into the life of God’s people, a story that goes on and on.
While I think it is fair to say that Jesus had some sense of a special calling before this incident, at least in Mark that calling was undefined. Because Jesus (presumably) knows the history of the people of God, he is able to see the Spirit of God at work in John’s ministry. Through the humility of his submission to John, Jesus is awoken to a reality that he had only felt as if in a dream before, if I may wax poetic. For Mark, who takes a decidedly adoptionistic view of Jesus’ sonship, it makes sense that he tells of Jesus’ baptism, temptation, and first attempt at preaching, defining the nature of Jesus’ ministry, in a single breath. As one commentator I read put it, “Boom! Boom! Boom!”
When we see the ways that our tradition and scripture testify both to and against the presence of God, we can see better the presence of God in the present. When we see the history of God’s relationship with humanity revealed best in the life and resurrection of Jesus Christ, then it helps us to make sense of the various testimonies we see in the world around us. It makes dealing with temptation easier. Heresies like legalistic/Deuteronomistic fundamentalism or Prosperity Theology are obvious bunk. A Christian life that begins and ends with an experience of being born again, that doesn’t lead us into mission in the world (or at least mission more complicated than trying to “get others saved”), though less obvious, are revealed as heresies as well. But when the example of others points to this reality, God is love, then we can trust their revelations and teachings, as long as we conform them the teachings of Jesus, and not vice versa.
“And the spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.”
I like that Mark doesn’t try to show us satan in this passage. What we can’t see is always scarier than what we can. I always appreciate the horror movies of David Lynch for this reason. Lynch completely removes the ground we stand on. Freddie, Jason, even the Blair Witch, conform to the patterns of the genre. The best they can do is startle. Real terror, though, lies in Special Agent Cooper running through the Black Lodge. We know what he sees, but we don’t know what it could mean. We don’t know why, and we never learn. Even though he is good, even though he is noble, Cooper still becomes posessed by Bob. Why? There is no reason. No protection from evil. That’s why Lynch sticks with you. If you aren’t still having nightmares about Eraserhead, you didn’t pay enough attention. But conventional horror movies give you and answer and an explanation. They give you Norman Bates psychological history and the reason that the spirit that animates Chucky longs for revenge. Real terror means never knowing what you will face or why you face it, and sometimes not even knowing at the time that you are facing it.
Which is part of the lesson here, I think. Matthew does a good job of summing up the most basic temptations of humanity, but if we go into the world expecting temptation to conform to certain patterns, then we can be easily tricked. One of the most believable parts of The Last Temptation of Christ is that Satan finally comes to Jesus as an angel. It’s that persona that is able to tempt him off the cross.
I can’t remember who said this, but I think it’s right that when fascism finally comes to America it will be draped in a flag and carrying a cross. It seems right that the biggest voices of evil in America in the last fifty years have been grounded in scriptural authority. Segregationists appealed to the scriptures, claiming they didn’t hate African-Americans but that the scriptures simply taught that we should be separate. Homophobic Christians say that the scriptures very clearly condemn homosexuality, although they “hate the sin and not the sinner”. Both arguments use a similar logical approach to the scriptures. Both are biblically sound. Both are also clearly wrong. These messages of hate and exclusion appeal to frightened people who think they can trust the messengers because they “believe in the bible.” It’s easy to give into temptation when you’re afraid and someone from a position you trust gives you an outlet for your fear.
I just finished reading (as closely as my stomach would allow me) the most recent issue of Good News. For some reason, I hadn’t gotten an issue since my move last July, so my memories of the magazine had faded some, mercifully. I was astounded at all the appeals to fear in it: fears that liberals would mandate abortion, fears that the denomination is dwindling to nothing, fears that all “right-thinking” Christians would leave for more conservative denominations, and then what would be left of The United Methodist Church? And then I noticed something else. In this magazine of fear-mongering, there wasn’t a single quotation from the gospels in any of their original articles, but Paul and Pseudo-Paul were quoted everywhere. There’s nothing wrong with Paul and Pseudo-Paul, but this suggests a distance from the gospel of Jesus Christ, a separation from his message that we all must repent and love God and neighbor/enemy above all else, that allows fear to have more power. I don’t want to make this exegesis a piece of artillery in the culture war, but this insight spoke volumes to me about the nature of the gospel, the dangers of idolatry, and the cleverness of the satan.
“Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’”
Just as it’s interesting that Mark doesn’t elaborate on the story of the temptation the way Matthew does, it’s also interesting that he doesn’t tell us exactly what the good news is. But this passage serves as the introduction to the ministry of Jesus. In Jesus’ life and ministry is the good news. (Mark’s gospel, of course, doesn’t have a resurrection story in it.) We aren’t told flat-out what the good news is, just as we are told exactly what satan is like, because we have to learn to recognize both temptation and ministry in our own lives. The temptations presented to a first-century Palestinian Jew would be as different from our temptations as his opportunities for ministry would be.
All we can do is look to what Jesus actually did. Our ministries, our good news, is rooted in love, God’s love for us and our love for others. We aren’t going to be casting out demons, because we have a more sophisticated understanding of physical and mental illness than Jesus did, but Jesus also wouldn’t have had opportunities to work for quality health care for poor Americans. We can’t bring the slaves of Centurions back to life, but we can work towards an end of slavery and sweat shop labor, something Jesus never did.
This is why, to me, fundamentalism is a problem. To root our faith so strongly in the specifics of the beliefs/world view of another age is to deny that there are new opportunities for ministry in our own age. Absolute perfection is not revealed to us. Absolute fear is not revealed to us. Instead, what Mark offers us is a life of discovery. We must always be on the lookout for new and innovative forms of temptation, but we must also always be on the lookout for new and innovative ways to show God’s love for all humanity, whether we want to share it or not.