Review
Last week’s discussion of Mark 1:35-45 elicited several intriguing comments. Nearly all were concerned with the leper’s flagrant (Craig called it “blithe”) disregard of Jesus’ order to “tell no one” about the healing. Why, asked Dorothy, would Christ give commands that He knows are certain to be disobeyed? And why do we (wondered Craig) willingly, deliberately, and happily go out and do the very thing Jesus has told us not to do? Does this kind of careless and exuberant disobedience have the potential to thwart God’s perfect plan?
Before diving in, I’d like to raise another question of my own: was this leper’s “disobedience” really such a bad thing? On the surface it seems innocent enough. After all, the man was genuinely grateful and understandably excited. He just wanted to tell the world what Jesus had done for him. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?
Well … maybe. And maybe not. It all depends.
Let’s keep this in mind as we pause and “hover” over this section a few moments more.
Our Text:
43 And He sternly warned him and immediately sent him away, 44 and He said to him, See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, for a testimony to them. 45 But he went out and began to proclaim it freely and to spread the news about, to such an extent that Jesus could no longer publicly enter a city, but stayed out in unpopulated areas; and they were coming to Him from everywhere.
Kingdoms in Conflict
We’ll begin by revisiting the reason for Jesus’ command. Why did He want the leper to remain silent? Last time we said that He was hoping to suppress “the kind of publicity that gets attached to showy wonder-workers.” But there’s a bit more to it than that.
Remember, Jesus is proclaiming a starkly revolutionary message. He’s announcing “The Arky (arche) of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (1:1). He says that “the kingdom of God has arrived” (1:15). In effect, He’s asserting His predominance over all other authorities and governances, whether that means the unseen spiritual powers in “heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12) or the human officials and magistrates who serve beneath them.
This message is easily misinterpreted. In Jesus’ day, Jewish religion, culture, and folklore had built up a vast complex of wrong-headed political assumptions about the nature of the Coming Kingdom. Something similar has happened in our own time, despite Christ’s clear assertion that His kingdom is “not of this world” (John 18:36). At the moment of the leper’s healing, the temporal authorities (especially the religious ones) already perceive Jesus as a threat. So He attempts to defuse a potentially explosive situation by telling the man to keep silent. He goes even further by instructing him to fulfill the specifications of the Mosaic law “as a testimony to them.” Revolutionary though He is, He wants to avoid misunderstanding and unnecessary trouble. His objective is to keep the lid on the pot until He’s had a little more time to clarify His intent
“A Time to Be Silent, and a Time to Speak”
“Say
nothing to anyone …” Commenting on
this, N. T. Wright asks, “Are there any times when we, today, should be silent,
however much we want to speak about Jesus and what He’s done for us?”[i]
Jacques Ellul thinks so. He says we live in an age when people can’t really hear the Gospel message. They can’t hear it because they think they already know what it’s about. They’re laboring under the burden of many centuries’ worth of accrued misunderstanding and misperception: staggering under layer upon layer of mutation, caricature, and misrepresentation of the Truth, most of it perpetrated by so-called Christians. In this sense, they’re very much like the Jews of Jesus’ time.
“To proclaim the Word of God to men in the abstract,” writes Ellul, “to people who are in a situation which prevents them from understanding it, means that we are tempting God.”[i] Referencing Jesus’ warning against “casting pearls before swine” (Matthew 7:6), he adds, “We need a revolution … which attacks the bases of a civilization whose efforts tend solely towards transforming men into ‘swine’ – all men – who by this very fact can no longer receive the divine ‘pearls.’”[ii] Writing in another context, he concludes, “There is a time for speech and a time for silence (Ecclesiastes 3:7). We shall often have occasion to meditate on this.”[iii]
When does the “time for speech” come? Good question. According to Ellul, it must be preceded by “the creation of a new style of life” among believers – a “style of life” that prompts unbelievers to wonder and ask. There’s a lot we could say about this. But perhaps that’s a subject for another time.
Final Thoughts: No Plan B
So: did the leper’s blabbing “confound the Lord’s purpose and will,” as Craig put it? That’s easy to answer: we know it didn’t.
The man tells everyone what has happened to him; Jesus retreats to “deserted places;” people seek Him out anyway; and the story moves on indefatigably to its predetermined conclusion. The Son of Man “goes just as it is written of Him,” despite human blunders, errors, and sins (Mark 14:21). For in God’s economy, there is no such thing as “Plan B.” It’s always “Plan A,” morphing, changing, adapting, branching out into brand-new and unforeseen avenues of fulfillment and fresh revelation.
That’s the way it’s always worked – ever since the Garden of Eden. And that’s the way it goes in our own bungled but blessed lives.
[i] N. T. Wright, Mark for Everyone, p. 14.
[i] Jacques Ellul, The Presence of the Kingdom, p. 141.
[ii] Ibid., p. 143.
[iii] Jacques Ellul, The Politics of God and the Politics of Man, p. 161
I love the point that God has no Plan B. He doesn’t need one. I’ve been thinking about this all week. The ritual for a leper’s cleansing (Lev 14) was an eight-day affair, which included shaving off all of the leper’s hair and bathing, along with very precise sacrifices offered by both the priest and the man. The point of it seemed to be to assure the community that this former leper was now safe to associate with. Was he? I suspect he was. (“If the Son sets you free you are free indeed” John 8:6) Was he overjoyed at being released from the prison of his disease? Again, I suspect he was, very much so, perhaps irrepressibly so? Could Jesus have told him anything but to obey the Law of Moses, for his cleansing? I think not. But the question is, was Jesus surprised that this healed man did not obey his strict instructions? That I’m not so sure about. Mark certainly does not say so. I’m more convinced that Jesus knew exactly what this man would do. And if God has no Plan B, then what exactly does that mean?
It led me to “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways, My ways” declares the Lord “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are my ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts higher than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8-9). What I don’t think this means is that God is just smarter than us. I think it means God’s consciousness is different than ours by orders of magnitude we cannot comprehend. God is outside of the sequential limits of time and space that we are bound to.
It’s like we are all in a parade which starts at one place, and we go along the parade route, step by step, waving to onlookers, and those next to us. That’s how we participate, from a single point of perspective. The way God sees this parade, is as if He was in a helicopter, far above the parade route. He sees everything about it, all the participants, all the floats, all the spectators, etc. all at the same time. And, not just a snapshot mind you. Rather, he sees everything that led up to the parade, for everyone in it, the entire parade, and where they all end up after the parade. He sees it holistically, not sequentially. Now take this weak analogy, multiply it times infinity and you will barely have a glimpse of God’s perspective on things. Not our thoughts, not our ways at all.
For this reason, I find it difficult to accept that idea that Jesus was anything but fully informed about what this leper would do. And again, what does that mean? One thing is sure for me, I find it very difficult to really hold this idea that the words we read in red letters were spoken by THIS VERY GOD, who has yet the humility and simplicity to speak with each of us in terms we can understand so we can respond to Him.
What an interesting study. But this statement: “According to Ellul, it must be preceded by “the creation of a new style of life” among believers….” YES. I really want to hear that discussion whenever the time comes. Definitely pertains to what is going on right now….
Yes. I would like very much to hear everyone’s thoughts on that.
I think this is the real revolution that Jesus wants to bring in this time. What could the Church look like if we were willing to let go and let Him change the face (outward expression) of Christianity as we know it? What if our society knew us for what we are supposed to be known for and not just known for being a group of people that go to church on Sunday mornings, are very concerned about political issues, pretty divided amongst ourselves, etc, etc.?? What if “church” will never look quite the same as it did before COVID-19?? Are we willing to let go of our comfort, familiarity and convenience? These are questions I have been asking myself on a heart level too. Would love to hear others’ thoughts.
I think what Alison is saying here is very much on target. I guess some of my own thoughts on what it means to “create a Christian style of life” can be found on this site under the “Pilgrim Path” Category; though these reflections have more to do with personal Christian values than with a shared way of life, which is a big part of Ellul’s concern. If you’re interested, you can navigate to “Categories/The Pilgrim Path” at the left-hand side of the “Home” page, scroll down to Page 5 at the bottom, and work your way up. — Jim (http://pilgrimagination.com/category/pilgrim-path/page/5/)
So glad to hear everyone’s replies, and to be able to read your learned reflections Jim. Thank you. I am hearing in this review of the reading the idea of compassion, and love that Jesus has as he takes the time out to heal this man. His assertion to go and keep the Arkey, as you say, to cleanse himself and keep the law of Moses is honoring the man’s committed path perhaps, or keeping the covenant with God, performing those acts that focus the miracle back to the Father. Jesus retreating to deserted places, removes the focus on Jesus, and seems to be an attempt to bring a focus to the man’s prayer, and rituals of cleansing and or perhaps thanks. I believe retreating to deserted places, brings to mind that the Path is within and not with the crowds, as we see what happens when all of this is brought to the masses before Pilate.
Crowd madness. Gosh, I might not be good at expressing myself. But these are my reflections on this reading, and further conversation. I feel a bit apart of the world sometimes. I am heartened by the idea that we are morphing and changing, not perfect, but flawed, and forgiven. I retreat, yet again to my social distancing.
Thank you for these thoughts, Cyndi. I really appreciate your openness to share with the rest of us. “Crowd madness” — yes. One of the benefits of this time is that we’re all getting a break from that …
I’m so glad you dwelled here this week.
First I’m struck by the moments of silence proposition. There are so many occasions when I’m “watching” the Gospel story unfold, especially in the end when Jesus is before Pilate, when I’m rooting for Jesus to give the plain, straightforward answer that he knows is the truth. And yet he remains . . . silent. Frustratingly silent. The irony, of course, gets to the root of this sovereignty paradox: If Jesus would have just spoken plainly to Pilate and given him the factual answer (“No, I’m not a king of this world, and I’m not trying to overthrow Rome. The Jewish leadership is lying”), then all of the tragedy and injustice of the crucifixion could have been avoided. . . . And therein, all of the the very purpose of the Gospel in what we know to be Easter. So rather than in Gethsemane, Jesus professing, “Not my will, but thine,” he could have had is cake and eat it too. (It’s a remarkable thing to me, by the way, that God-the-Son’s will could be other than God-the-Father’s; and that he should have to submit it to the Father. What a wonder is this humility of God [the Son], per Phi. 2:5-11).
That’s inconceivable for the very reason that the sovereign God’s will must be accomplished even in the context of human will. Jesus, fully man, models submission to the Father, knowing the Father’s will shall be done . . . come what may.
There was no Plan B for Jesus, nor is there for us. We can only confess, “Thy will be done,” acknowledging our will won’t thwart God’s. The Leper’s disobedience could never thwart God’s purpose and will. But the beauty of this (as Dorothy so aptly characterized it) is that nevertheless, though God’s will be done, we can somehow choose otherwise. And God will still see through (I love this, Jim), “morphing, changing, adapting, branching out into brand-new and unforeseen [by human eyes] avenues of fulfillment and fresh revelation.
The outcome of v. 45 seems to affirm the morphing Plan A reality we all (as did Jesus) have to embrace in this human existence of the world: they all nevertheless came to him out in the desert (though not in the city). The Father’s will shall be done, even if other than God-the-Son’s will. Jesus models our necessary submission to the Father’s will–though we think we may know what God’s plan A should be, he knows full well what it will be regardless.
Very profound thoughts, Craig — especially “the sovereign God’s will must be accomplished even in the context of human will.” The Westminster Confession says something very like that.
I found it difficult last week to think about the idea of ignoring a direct, spoken order from the One who performed a miracle in my life. I appreciate the thought this week that there might be an explanation—speculation—for why Christ wanted silence. It intrigues me to think that He may have wanted to pick His battles. That would be yet another way to assert His authority.. What is most evident is the point you’ve made, and that Dorothy affirms. His plan is not derailed by my choices. What a relief.
A relief indeed.
There is no such thing as “Plan B.” It is always “Plan A.” I could cry. This is so beautiful. So beautifully profound and filled with grace and hope. Goodness. One might even believe in the resurrection. Oh my.