Mark is a polemic against Peter. It may have tried to reconcile its otherwise uncompromisingly negative perspective on Peter by positing that Mark was written by a Peter follower. This provides an explanation for the commonly cited** “internal evidence”** of a Peterine connection, such as the fact that Peter is the character other than Jesus that is clearly given the most attention. In this way, it appears that Mark is “about” Peter, or at least about Jesus’ relationship with Peter, and is written with the intention of strengthening Paul’s authority despite the fact that the structure of the book suggests that it is formally a biography of Jesus (i.e., an account of deeds from birth to death in a style that appears to be historiographic).
This hypothesis is supported by the following data:
(1.) The parable of the sower foreshadows Peter’s failed discipleship. Jesus gives him the name Petros (which means “rock”) in the previous chapter (3:16), and he is represented in the parable as the rocky (petrode) soil which at first receives the word with joy but “falls away” when persecuted (4:16-17). Though Peter insists he will not fall away (14:29), by the end of that chapter he does along with the rest of the disciples (just as Paul says in 1 Cor 1:23, Christ crucified causes the Jews to fall away). Another connection is that the seed on rocky soil withers away at sunrise, which could allude to the sunrise at the resurrection (16:2), which leads into the next point.
(2.) The original, short ending of Mark (16:1-8) leaves Peter and the other disciples unredeemed. The women are told to go tell the disciples and Peter, but they run away in fear and trembling, and are said to tell no one. One of the other variant endings of Mark adds right after this that they immediately told Peter and the disciples, apparently a superficial attempt to rectify the unsatisfying conclusion. This is also another possible Pauline influence on Mark, as similar to but contrasting the women, Paul proclaimed Christ with fear and trembling (1 Cor 2:1-9).
(3.) A more specific and compelling example of Pauline influence on Mark’s presentation of the Jesus-Peter relationship is how Jesus, like Paul, rebukes Peter and calls him Satan (Mark 8:33; compare to Gal 2:11 where Paul opposes Peter, and 2 Cor 11:13-14 where false apostles are compared to Satan disguising himself). Another polemic against Simon Peter is made in the next verse (8:34) as they are told that proper followers must take up the cross; after Peter has fled, it is a different Simon who successfully does so (15:21); in sharp contrast, Paul says he himself was [allegorically] crucified with Christ (Gal 2:20, Romans 6:3-9).
(4.) Mark’s Jesus describes ideal discipleship as being a slave and servant to all so that though they are last, they will be first (9:34, 10:31); Paul described himself as a slave and servant to believers, to Christ, and to all (Romans 1:1, Galatians 1:10, 1 Cor 9:19) and as the last and least of the Apostles (1 Cor 15:8-9).
(5.) Mark’s Jesus also polemics against James and John, the other two of the three pillars (the third being Peter) opposed by Paul (Gal 2:9) by denying their seat at the left and right in his glory (10:35-40); the others for whom that honor had been prepared turn out to be the two thieves crucified by his left and right (15:27; this is the same kind of rhetorical denigration by substitution as above when Simon of Cyrene filled the role Simon Peter was supposed to play).
(6.) Observe that the last three points are arranged with Jesus’ death predictions (8:31, 9:31, 10:32). This shows that the literary structures found in Mark are deeply connected to the anti-Petrine agenda. Adam Winn finds that the design of these three death predictions, coupled with Peter’s three denials, is an imitation and reversal of the three predictions of Elijah’s death/ascension and Elisha’s three corresponding affirmations that he will not leave him (2 Kings 2:1-6), which further illustrates that Mark has not crafted the story based on a reception of some eyewitness memory to first century events.
(7.) Mark’s Jesus agrees with Paul on teachings Paul attributed to himself (divorce in Mark 10:11-12 / 1 Cor 7:10-11) or to his own personal revelation (dietary restrictions in Mark 7:19 / Romans 14:14). Also, Paul and Jesus both dispute with Jews who forbid eating with sinful gentiles (Mark 2:16, Gal 2:12-14).
(8.) Scroggs & Groff argue convincingly that the young man who flees naked from Jesus’ arrest (14:51) is the same young man who appears clothed like Christ at the tomb, and that it is intended to portray Paul’s theology of baptism as a change of garments and spiritual participation in the death and resurrection (Gal 3:27, Romans 6:3-9, 2 Cor 5:2-3; 2 Cor 5:1 also provides the idea of the resurrection body as a temple not made with hands found in Mark 14:58).
> **(9.)** *Paul frequently uses the language of sleep and wakefulness in relation to being prepared for the imminently coming eschatological resurrection. Both Jesus and Paul give the command to not sleep and be on alert (Mark 14:34 / 1 Thess 5:6) and while Paul says it is the hour to awaken from sleep (Romans 13:11), Peter could not stay awake for one hour (Mark 14:37). Another strong parallel between Paul’s writings and Mark’s Gethsemane scene is the usage of the formula “Abba, Father” (Mark 14:36 / Romans 8:16, Gal 4:6).*
Tolbert, Mary Ann. Sowing the Gospel: Mark’s Work in Literary-Historical Perspective. Fortress Press, 1996.
Winn, Adam. Mark and the Elijah-Elisha Narrative: Considering the Practice of Greco-Roman Imitation in the Search for Markan Source Material. Eugene, OR: Pidwick Publications, 2010.
Scroggs, Robin, and Kent I. Groff. “Baptism in Mark: Dying and Rising with Christ.” Journal of Biblical Literature 92, no. 4 (1973): 531-48.
Dykstra, Tom E. Mark, Canonizer of Paul. St. Paul, MN: OCABS Press, 2012.
Nelligan, Thomas P. The Quest for Mark’s Sources: An Exploration of the Case for Mark’s use of First Corinthians. Eugene, OR: Pidwick Publications, 2015.
In Jesus of Nazareth, Maurice Casey argues that Mark might have heard Peter preach. Because he dates Mark so early, this seems plausible to him. The connection between Peter and Mark is, in my opinion, somewhat tenuous. There is the traditional identification, which seems to be based solely on the fact that Mark is mentioned in the second gospel and in the NT. It is not clear how the association came to be. It wouldn’t take much to interpret 1 Peter 5:13’s reference to “my son Mark” as a reference to the gospel author if Mark were viewed from Peter’s perspective. This does not imply that Mark was not associated with the Gospel from the beginning; however, we really do not know how this association developed.
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Are there any arguments for or against the Gospel or Mark as a product of Alexandria? 📜
There are two fairly recent books that discuss the traditions of the Mark associated with Alexandria. The Methodist theologian Thomas C. Oden in The African Memory of Mark: Reassessing Early Church Tradition (InterVarsity Press, 2011) gives a maximalist and less skeptical assessment of the traditions (his conclusion on p. 256 that “treating as myth two thousand years of testimony is bad historical method” comes off as rather apologetic), while Dean Furlong’s The John also called Mark: Reception and Transformation in Christian Tradition (Mohr Siebeck, 2020) gives a more rigorous analysis of the literary and traditional materials, finding a gradual conflation of several different Marks into a single figure.
The Mar Saba letter attributed to Clement of Alexandria would, if genuine, give weightier testimony to the tradition that Mark composed a version of the gospel in Alexandria (a longer and more spiritual version of the gospel), since Clement would have local knowledge of the history of the Alexandrian church. The whole subject of the letter is wrapped up in controversy and imo should not be used as evidence unless its authenticity can be independently confirmed. Scott G. Brown (JBL, 2003) is one scholar who argues for the merits of the letter in studying the compositional history of Mark.
While internal evidence does not directly support authorship, it can be utilized to support external claims.
(1) The author’s extensive use of Aramaic (Mark 3:17; 5:41; 7:11, 34; 10:45; 14:36) are compatible with John Mark, a Palestinian Jew (cf. Acts 12:12).
(2) A Roman provenance (place of origin) would also fit the large number of Latinisms.
(3) It is also significant that Rufus and Alexander are identified as the sons of Simon of Cyrene in Luke 15:21 because it demonstrates that the author was known to his readers. If the original readers were aware that the gospel was written by someone else, it does not seem likely that the title “according to Mark” (κατὰ Μάρκον) would have been attached to it so early on. In addition, if this Rufus is the same as the one mentioned in Romans 16:13, we have incidental evidence to support a Roman origin.
Authorship, date, location of composition:
Mark’s Gospel is anonymous. The eschatological discourse in Mark 13 is typically used to date its creation: The majority of scholars believe that this hints at the First Jewish–Roman War, which occurred between 66 and 74 AD and resulted in the destruction of the Second Temple in AD 70. The majority of scholars also believe that Mark was written either immediately following the destruction or in the years immediately preceding it. While earlier dates between AD 35 and 45 are occasionally proposed, they are typically rejected. Although Galilee, Antioch (the third-largest city in the Roman Empire, located in northern Syria), and southern Syria have also been suggested, it was most likely written in Greek for a gentile audience in Rome.
It is unlikely that the gospel was written by a Jew from the Jerusalem or Judea region because of the author’s lack of knowledge of Jewish customs.
Mark 7:3-4, for instance, states that “the Pharisees and all the Jews” engage in ceremonial washing.
This was in fact a Pharisaic custom that not all Jews followed. There is a small possibility that the term “Jews” should be interpreted as “Judeans” when it is rendered; Jews are people who live in the Roman province of Judea, which is next door to Galilee. Their name comes from the people and the ancient kingdom of Judah, which got its name from Judah’s tribe and royal lineage.
In Greek, Judeans and Jews are the same as the word “iudaioi,” which is where the term “Jew” comes from. However, when the word is written in a way that clearly says “the men of Judea,” Iudaia is spelled like the place, not like the plural for Judeans or Jews.
Early Christian tradition, first attested by Papias of Hierapolis (c. 60– c.130 AD), attributes it to the John Mark mentioned in Acts, but scholars generally reject this as an attempt to link the gospel to an authoritative figure.
Even though Papias did not personally know the apostles, Eusebius noted that he was in close contact with those who had heard them, including John the Elder, Aristion, Polycarp, and Philip the Evangelist’s daughters (Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.39.1 – 9; cf. Acts 21:8 – 9). According to Papias and Eusebius, Mark accurately interpreted (or translated) Peter’s eyewitness accounts from Aramaic and broken Koini Greek, transforming Peter’s anecdotal stories into a connected narrative—though not necessarily in chronological order—from the first century onward. There is later conflict over who this Imprint is, yet that is the means by which the mysterious Gospel got the title, “the gospel as indicated by Imprint”. Similar assertions are made by second-century sources. Mark is identified as the author and is linked to Peter in the Anti-Marcionite Prologue to Mark (circa 160–180):
“Mark . . . who was called ‘stump-fingered’ because for the size of the rest of his body he had fingers that were too short. He was Peter’s interpreter. After the departure [or ‘death’] of Peter himself, the same man wrote his Gospel in the regions of Italy.”
The people in Italy knew Mark as (or themselves nicknamed Mark) “stumpy fingers” — what we may call “baby/tiny/little hands”.
Since the church is unlikely to have invented such a disparaging remark, the odd statement about Mark’s disfigured fingers may point to a reliable tradition.
The Gospel of Mark has been identified as a Greco-Roman historical biography (βίος, vita), which is one of the main reasons why Mark is probably not the author and why it is probably not based on Peter’s account. Because eyewitness testimony was regarded as superior to hearsay and was highly valued, the authors of Greco-Roman historical writings explicitly state that they were either eyewitnesses to the events they were recording or had access to eyewitnesses. This is supported by a plethora of examples, so numerous that it is actually difficult to locate any existing counterexamples:
Herodotus 2.99.1-2; Thucydides 2.48; Xenophon: Cyropaedia 8.4.5; Ctesias of Cnidus (in Photius: Library 72); Polybius 3.4; Dionysius of Halicarnassus 20.10.1-2; Diodorus of Sicily 1.83.9; Plutarch: Themistocles 32.5; Appian: The Punic Wars 132; Lucian: Demonax 1; Cassius Dio 73.18.3-4; Philostratus: Apollonius 1.3; Herodian 2.15.6; Porphyry: Plotinus 7; Josephus: The Jewish War 1.prologue; Sallust: The War With Catiline 3.3; Cornelius Nepos: Atticus 17.1-2; Livy 22.7.4; Tacitus: Histories 1.1; Suetonius: Gaius Caesar 19.3; Ammianus Marcellinus 14.9.1; Aurelius Victor: De Caesaribus 20.5; Eutropius 10.16.
We even have this practice attested in forged historiographical works attributed to entirely non-existing authors, e.g. Dictys of Crete 1.13; Dares the Phrygian (prologue); Historia Augusta, Aur. 43.2.
And it is also widely attested in ancient Christian historiographical literature, starting with the beloved disciple in the Gospel of John and including e.g. Hegesippus (in Eusebius: Church History 4.22.2); Eusebius: Life of Constantine 1.28; Lives of the Jura Fathers 4.
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Eusebius/Papias 📜
The reliability of the tradition transmitted by Papias, however, is open to question. Papias’ main assertion, the linkage with Peter’s eyewitness testimony, is belied by a form-critical analysis of Mark; the Gospel seems to be several steps removed from eyewitness testimony, consisting rather of a collection of traditions that have gone through considerable development in the course of their transmission. There is, moreover nothing particularly Petrine about these traditions.8 Papias’s account is probably a reflection not of historical information but of two other factors: 1 A knowledge of the association of the names of Mark and Peter in 1 Pet 5:13 and a desire on the part of second-century “orthodox” church leaders to link the four Gospels with known disciples as a weapon against the Gnostics. If one asked why Papias chose to link the Gospel directly with Mark rather than with Peter, the answer would be that “Mark” was associated with the Gospel from a very early period and may indeed be the name of its author. This Mark who wrote the Gospel however, was probably not, as Papias seems to have assumed him to be, John Mark, the native of Jerusalem who became the companion of Paul. “Mark” was one of the commonest names in the Roman Empire, and the form-critical argument made above against the linkage of the Gospel with the eyewitness account of Peter would also apply to a linkage with the other apostles who would have been personally known by John Mark.
https://www.jstor.org/stable/3267261
Justin Martyr doesn’t refer to the Gospel of Mark as the memoirs of Peter. Instead, Justin Martyr quotes a source he calls “memoirs of the apostles” (ἀπομνημονεύματα τῶν ἂποστόλων), which contains material also found in several canonical Gospels (most often in Matthew). Whether or not this is just what he calls the gospels or whether this is a different source with the same material (e.g. a gospel harmony) and where it comes from is debated. The First Apology 66 indentifies the memoirs with the gospels, but this might be a later addition by a scribe (see e.g. Osborn: Justin Martyr, p. 29).
Alternative Hypothesis (NOT BY ME) 📜
“I am aware that this may be highly speculative and may be deleted due to its absence from the existing scholarly literature on the subject, but I have been wondering for some time whether Simon Peter refers to Simon, the Jewish rebel leader, who was held in custody until his execution at the Triumph of Titus and Vespasian (Jewish Wars, Book 7). If Papias’s claim that Mark served as Peter’s translator is true, then Simon Peter refers to Simon. The translator might have been employed by the government for the following reasons: 1) taking into account that cutting-edge education was an uncommon expertise in old Rome (See among others, Confidence Walsh, Early Christian Writing, 2021) it appears to be to some degree impossible for an unfortunate angler – – conceivably a hostage from Judea and a censured man no less – – to have had the option to bear the cost of an interpreter to go with him in Rome, 2) or to have been permitted to go around uninhibitedly teaching a convention that was strange to Roman royal interests and philosophy. Furthermore, even if Peter was Mark’s religious mentor and primary source, this does not explain why Mark portrays Peter in such a negative light. Jesus, for instance, refers to him as “Satan”; When he was supposed to be guarding, he falls asleep; In the garden of Gethsemane, he is the only disciple to resort to violence, and Jesus confronts him for it; He promises not to deny Jesus three times; and runs away with the other disciples just before Jesus is put to death. All of these things work to portray Peter as untrustworthy, cowardly, and a liar. Other things, like Jesus’ attitude toward kosher food, suggest that Mark’s gospel is influenced by Paul.”
“Is it possible that Simon Peter was held captive by the Romans after 70 CE (Simon Gorias), and that Mark, who was employed by the Roman army, was tasked with translating and transcribe Peter’s statements while they were being interrogated? Alternately, Mark’s gospel could have been written from the transcripts of Peter’s statements when he was being interrogated. From these transcripts, Mark could have written his account of Peter’s relationship with Jesus. This account is a crucial part of Mark’s gospel because Jesus’ ministry begins with the recruitment of Simon (called Peter by Jesus), continues with the healing of Simon Peter’s mother-in-law, and keeps Peter around until the trial.”
In this book, Rhoads argues that the Gospel of Mark was not based on the testimony of Peter, but rather was written by an anonymous author who had a negative/underestimated view of Peter. He cites Mark’s portrayal of Peter as impulsive, faithless, and prone to failure as evidence for this argument. (p. 4-8)
France argues that Mark’s Gospel was not written by Peter himself, but rather by a later author who drew on Peter’s teachings and experiences. He notes/says that the Gospel contains several elements that are critical of Peter, such as his denial of Jesus and his misunderstanding of Jesus’ messiahship. (p. 4-6)
Papias is very explicit saying that Peter’s memories were not in order, that Mark consequently also wrote them out of chronological order, and that neither even had any intention of providing a chronological narrative. He also calls the resulting text logia (sayings). This actually conforms pretty well to Gospel of Thomas, which is a collection of sayings of Jesus in no particular order, as well as to the postulated Q source. However, gMark is a narrative in chronological order.
Papias says that what Mark wrote down were random memories of Peter the apostle. There are numerous problems with that:
1. gMark nowhere identifies itself as being narrated by Peter, or even connected to Peter in any way.
2. gMark is written in third person, including all the scenes involving Peter.
3. gMark is written from the perspective of an omniscient narrator, describing several scenes that Peter couldn’t possibly witness (such as passion in Gethsemane, trial before Sanhedrin, and trial before Pilate).
4. gMark is strongly anti-Petrine. Note that unlike other gospels, Peter is never redeemed in the narrative. There might even be an intentional pun in the parable of the sower, where the case best describing the apostles (were quick to become followers of Jesus, but also quick to abandon him at the first signs of danger) just happens to be called “rocky (petrodes) ground”.
5. gMark doesn’t include post-resurrection appearances of Jesus, to which Peter (Cephas) was a witness, according to Paul. It’s hard to imagine how Peter could leave that out.
gMark employs complex literary structures which couldn’t possibly result from spontaneous oral narration, starting from the use of chiastic structure (sometimes called Markan sandwiches) but also including intricate allusions to earlier scenes. For example, consider this fragment from the very beginning of the Gospel and the very first scene with Jesus:
he saw the heavens torn apart [schizomenous] and the Spirit [Pneuma] descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son…”
(Mark 1:10-11)
and compare it with the scene near the very end of the Gospel, and the last scene involving Jesus:
Then Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last [exepneusen]. And the curtain of the temple was torn [eschisthe] in two, from top to bottom. Now when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, “Truly this man was God’s Son!”
(Mark 15:37-38)
gMark contains several serious geographical errors which are irreconcilable with the idea that the text stems from a Galilean local. For example, to quote from Dykstra’s “Mark, Canonizer of Paul”:
From “the region of Tyre,” Jesus goes “through Sidon” (20 miles north along the coast) “to the sea of Galilee” (the opposite direction from Tyre, about 30 miles southeast) “through the region of the Decapolis” (beyond his destination Galilee by at least 10 miles and extending for about 40 miles farther). A modern U.S. equivalent would be to recount a journey from Los Angeles to Kansas City, first going through Seattle and then going through Miami.
Mark is the first author to call the pretty small lake in Galilee “a sea”:
The largest freshwater lake in Israel went by several names in antiquity. The Old Testament refers to it just three times, calling it the Yam Kinneret (Chinnereth). Unlike many languages, ancient Hebrew did not distinguish between salty and fresh bodies of water; yam could refer to both. The LXX simply translates it as the sea of Chenara (Num 34:11) or Chenereth (Josh 12:3, 13:27).
Like English, Greek and Latin did distinguish between lakes (limne) and oceans (thalassa). Josephus variously referred to the lake as the lake of Gennesar, the lake of Gennesaritis, or the lake of Tiberias. Pliny the Elder referred to it as lake of Gennesaret or Taricheae in his encyclopedia, Natural History. Strabo called it the lake of Gennesaritis¹ in his opus Geography.
Genessar and its variations come from the plain of Gennesaret, which lay on the northwest side of the lake. The name is ultimately a Grecized form of the Hebrew Kinneret (Chinnereth), which was an ancient city in the upper Jordan valley. Tiberias and Taricheae were two other important Roman cities near the lake, and their names were used to identify the lake in Roman times.
Porphyry’s Objections:
Porphyry of Tyre, a Greek philosopher of the third century, was one of the first pagan writers to investigate Christian claims. The surviving quotations of his work include some canny observations about Mark:
Another section in the gospel deserves comment, for it is likewise devoid of sense and full of implausibility; I mean that absurd story about Jesus sending his apostles across the sea ahead of him after a banquet, then walking across to them “at the fourth watch of the night.” It is related that they had been working all night to keep the boat adrift and were frightened by the size of the storm [surging against the boat]. (The fourth watch would be the tenth hour of the night, with three hours being left.)
Those who know the region well tell us that, in fact, there is no “sea” in the locality but only a tiny lake which springs from a river that flows through the hills of Galilee near Tiberias. Small boats can get across it within two hours. [And the lake is too small] to have seen whitecaps caused by storm. Mark seems to be stretching a point to its extremities when he writes that Jesus—after nine hours had passed—decided in the tenth to walk across to his disciples who had been floating about on the pond for the duration!
As if this isn’t enough, he calls it a “sea”—indeed, a stormy sea—a very angry sea which tosses them about in its waves causing them to fear for their lives. He does this, apparently, so that he can next show Christ miraculously causing the storm to cease and the sea to calm down, hence saving the disciples from the dangers of the swell. It is from fables like this one that we judge the gospel to be a cleverly woven curtain, each thread of which requires careful scrutiny. (Translation by R. Joseph Hoffman, Porphyry’s Against the Christians: The Literary Remains, 1994.)
The Sea in the Other Gospels:
The other canonical Gospels (including John, in my opinion) were based on Mark and had a tendency to correct perceived errors of geography and history in the material they used. How did they deal with Mark’s references to the Sea of Galilee?
Luke mentions the lake by name only once. In 5:1-11, his version of the calling of the disciples (parallel to Mark 1:16-20), he calls it by its standard name, the lake of Genneseret. In four other instances, he calls it “the lake”. (Mark’s second reference to the Sea of Galilee in 7:31 has no parallel in Luke.)
Matthew, on the other hand, is content to follow Mark in calling it the Sea of Galilee. In fact, he refers to the “sea” (thalassa) eleven times to Mark’s seven.
John adopts a compromise. He calls it the “sea of Galilee of Tiberias” in 6:1, adding the normal Roman name to Mark’s name, and he continues calling it the “sea” afterward. The author of the Johannine appendix also calls it the Sea of Tiberias, probably on the basis of 6:1.
Analysis of Mark’s Wording:
Mark, then, is giving the lake in Galilee a name that is unattested in any earlier source, and very possibly an invention of his own. And it’s not just the name; as we saw from Porphyry’s remarks, he treats it in the narrative as a sea rather than the small lake that it is.
Some commentaries simply note that calling the lake a sea is a Semitism and leave it at that — as if all is explained. Thiessen (Gospels in Context, 237-39, cited by Collins in Mark (Hermeneia) p. 157 n. 1) went further, arguing for an Aramaic setting behind Mark. But are we really supposed to think that a Greek author writing to a Greek audience didn’t know the difference between a lake and a sea? Other commentators propose that Mark was influenced by the Septuagint, which I find lacking for two reasons: (1) The lake is an obscure geographical feature in the Old Testament, barely mentioned at all. (2) Mark does not use the Septuagint’s name for the sea, Chenara/Chenereth. (After I had nearly finished this article, I discovered that Notley [2009, p. 185] raises the same objection.) Additionally, neither of these explanations helps us understand how the sea functions in Mark’s Gospel.
A Markan Odyssey:
Dennis R. MacDonald (professor of religion at Claremont School of Theology) is a well-known proponent of the view that the author of Mark deliberately uses themes from Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey to develop his story. As MacDonald notes in his books, students in the Greek-speaking world used the technique of imitatio to learn composition, and Homer was the most popular model to use. The literary culture was infused with Homer; no literate Greek learned to read and write without acquiring extensive familiarity with the Iliad and the Odyssey. Mimesis, or imitation of famous works, was not considered plagiarism, but a time-honoured technique for composing new stories.
To put it another way, there is little doubt that all the authors of the New Testament learned to read and write Greek through extensive study of Homer.
When MacDonald turns his tools for mimetic analysis to Mark, he finds numerous parallels with Homer. One that is relevant for our topic is a passage about Odysseus in Od. 10. Like Jesus in the stilling of the storm (4:35-41), Odysseus and his companions set sail with multiple ships (twelve ships to be precise — a rather biblical number). Odysseus sleeps while a terrible gale drives the ships and the crewmen despair. But Mark’s Jesus is greater than Odysseus, for Odysseus is powerless to affect the winds, which are controlled by the god Aeolus; but in Mark, Jesus does in fact wield the divine ability to control the wind. (MacDonald 2015, loc. 742ff)
Another sea-related parallel is the episode of Jesus walking on the water in 6:45-52. In Iliad 24, the god Hermes has golden sandals that let him walk across the water, and Priam and Idaeus are terrified when they first see Hermes approach at night, much like the disciples’ reaction to Jesus on the sea at night. Hermes then joins Priam and Idaeus in their chariot and leads them to their destination, just as Jesus joins the disciples in the boat to and takes them to Gennesaret². Similar stories occur elsewhere in Homer as well as in Vergil’s Aeneid, which also heavily borrowed from Homer (Ibid. loc. 1049ff).
In MacDonald’s view, the sea — which plays such a crucial role in the Homeric epics — is used by Mark as a setting in which he can draw on those same Homeric themes to demonstrate that Jesus has powers over nature that only a god could have. According to MacDonald, this addition of “fictionalizing” (as MacDonald puts it) elements to the historical Jesus served “to bring his teachings into clearer focus” while also depicting Jesus as “more compassionate, stronger, and wiser than the gods and heroes of the Greeks.” (Ibid. loc. 2780) The Homeric stories selected for imitation by Mark are also frequently the same ones borrowed by Vergil in the Aeneid, making Jesus a rival not only to the Greek heroes, but also to Aeneas and the Roman emperors. (Ibid. loc. 157)
Conclusion:
Whether the toponym “Sea of Galilee” was an invention of Mark’s or of the early Christian community he belonged to (so Notley), it is clearly a theological innovation that associates Jesus with an Isaianic “prophecy” and then-current Jewish views of the region of Zebulon and Naphtali. It was also important for Mark that his story take place on and around a perilous sea — and not merely a placid lake — in order to fully illustrate his views of Jesus.
MacDonald’s thesis of Homeric influence throughout Mark might be more controversial than the numerous and well-established cases of imitating the Old Testament, but neither explanation of Mark’s “sea” motif excludes the other. Mark’s Jesus stands in both the Jewish and Greek traditions, commanding the weather like a Homeric deity and subduing the chaotic sea like the God of Israel.
For those of us raised in Christian environments, familiarity with Mark’s Gospel may prevent us from appreciating its mythologizing nature. Even the geography of Jesus’ ministry may include elements that have been specially chosen or even invented for their symbolic value.
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More 📜
Peter’s failings are certainly many:
he denies Jesus three times
he is forgetful and uncomprehending
Jesus calls him Satan
But notice how the author also leads us to sympathize with Peter. Peter may be a foil to Jesus but he is not portrayed as wicked. Mark keeps the readers on Peter’s side by letting the readers see into Peter’s well-meaning nature, his good intentions and genuine bafflement and tearful remorse over his most serious failures (Mark 14.29).
His babbling nonsense at the transfiguration is not motivated by evil but by genuine confusion (Mark 9.6).
Similarly, it is “weakness of the flesh” that leads him to sleep instead of keeping watch with Jesus, but Jesus’ words express sympathy and concern, not unqualified condemnation (Mark 14.37-38).
And this is followed two verses later by another insight into Peter’s sense of shame (Mark 14.40).
As Damgaard says,
In both these scenes, however, the omniscient narrator uses an inside view in order to gain the audience’s sympathy for Peter.14 Though Peter fails in his endeavours, the result is not, in my view, that the listeners dissociate themselves from him. On the contrary, it seems to me that they become painfully aware of how difficult it is to be Peter.
Footnote 14 elaborates and concludes with the same point:
Just as in the transfiguration scene, Peter fails in his endeavours, but that does not mean that the listener becomes estranged from him. In my view, the author’s use of the inside view has the opposite effect: the listener will now begin to with Peter.
The readers are informed by the omniscient narrator that Peter’s failings are not willful but arise from genuine weakness. In this way the author elicits sympathy for Peter, not anger, in the readers/hearers of his narrative.
At the end of the gospel the narrator also shows that there is continuity between the readers’ sympathy for Peter and Jesus’ final assessment of him. In the final reference to Peter the suspense (if there ever was such a thing) concerning his fate is resolved. Peter is not cursed; on the contrary, he is, once more, singled out from among the other disciples (Mark 16:7) and asked to follow Jesus, who is headed for Galilee. The reference to Peter in Mark 16:7 could also be read as a subtle reference to Peter’s function as the first witness to the resurrection (compare 1 Cor 15:5 and Luke 24:34). Though Mark’s portrayal of Peter primarily focuses on his mistakes, the narrator does not turn his readers against Peter, nor does he portray Jesus as someone who parts company with Peter.
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But Why? 📜
Damgaard turns to the influence of Paul’s letters, here. Paul himself used to loudly advertise his “failure” before his conversion. Not that Paul ever expresses any hint of genuine remorse or a guilty conscience. Indeed, Paul appears to even boast in his “worthless” life before being called by God. It is a rhetorical device. The same has been used by countless Christians in their conversion stories ever since: “look how bad and lost I was, so you can now see how wonderful Jesus is and what he can do”
Damgaard astutely points out the specific reason for Paul’s apparent self-effacement in Galatians:
Paul’s reference in Galatians to his former lifestyle is his way of defending the point made in Gal 1:12 that his gospel did not come from a human source, but from direct revelation of Jesus Christ.
Similarly in 1 Corinthians 15:9 Paul says he is the least worthy of the apostles because he persecuted the church. But notice:
Paul does not refer to any guilty conscience because of his persecution of the church. Instead, his portrayal is meant to present himself in accordance with the fundamental theme of the letter, namely that “what is low and despised in the world” was chosen by God (I Cor 1:28).
It is the “biography of reversal” and it is written for rhetorical effect to strengthen his arguments about the true source of his authority and message. By pointing to his pre-conversion failure he is presenting himself as the post-conversion mouthpiece and agent of God. Others quickly cottoned on to the psychology at work:
As is well attested, Paul’s “biography of reversal” [John Howard Schütz’s phrase] was developed further in later Christian literature such as Ephesians, Colossians, and the Pastorals. As Martinus C. de Boer has argued, the picture of Paul as the “redeemed persecutor” becomes paradigmatic for all Christians in these letters. In I Timothy, for instance, Paul is portrayed as the prototypical sinner and receiver of God’s grace (1 Tim 1:16). Paul’s self-portrayal as a persecutor of the church has here been generalized. It is never specified what it is that he had persecuted and there is no mention of his Jewish past. Instead, it is claimed that Paul was a “blasphemer” and a “violent man” (1 Tim 1:13), both of which are common entities in catalogues of vices. By transforming Paul’s offence, his persecution of the church, into more general vices, the author made Paul’s story applicable to his Gentile readers. Paul became a model with whom they could identify. For just like Paul, the converted Gentiles had to abandon their wicked ways and give their lives to the service of virtue.
The Book of Acts goes much farther than anything we read in Paul’s letters themselves by depicting him as a literally violent persecutor of the church. The author is using literary licence to take the biography of reversal to an extreme for narrative and paradigmatic purposes:
According to Hultgren, “Paul does not understand persecution as a procedure which ends in the death of the victim”.” He does not himself claim that he persecuted the church “violently” as καθ’ ὑπερβολὴν (Gal 1:13) has been translated in the NRSV. The expression probably refers not to the intensity of the persecution, but rather to the intensity of Paul’s zeal (see also Phil 3:6). Luke not only exaggerated Paul’s brutality in order to emphasize God’s transforming power, the exaggeration also creates an important contrast between Saul the persecutor (Acts 9:1-2) and Paul the persecuted (Ac!S 9:23-29): from now on Paul is persecuted for the same reasons as those for which he had himself persecuted.” While in the first account of Paul’s ‘conversion’ Luke focuses on the transformation of Paul: his change from persecutor to persecuted, Luke turns to an autobiographical discourse in the two other accounts of the ‘conversion’. As Landolt has emphasized such a turn indicates “a stronger focus on Paul’s character”. Paul here recalls the circumstances of his own ‘conversion’ in order to appeal to his listeners to recognize the need for repentance (Acts 26:19-20, 29). Luke thereby turns Paul into a paradigmatic figure by making his journey of conversion “representative of the conversion of all believers” (Landolt 2012, 307).
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