Mark 10 has a lot of meat in it and is taking me several readings to dig through. This is the third post and I’m not yet done.
Mark 10:23-31 – This passage, well, at least these words of Jesus have been on my mine lately. That and Jesus inability to work any miracles in his hometown because of their lack of faith. (Matthew 13, Mark 6, Luke 4, John 4)
The people of Nazareth knew Jesus too well, that was their problem. He was the carpenter’s son, that kid who used to hang at the synagogue. They knew who he was, you see, there was no way he was capable of anything special.
I contend that we have much the same problem in the America. I think that Jesus is far too familiar to us, so much so that he can do no miracles in our midst either. We hear his name on the radio and in church, we see him proclaimed on TV and see his fish on our cars. He’s everywhere, well, at least people are using his name everywhere. He’s common place.
In addition we are wealthy and self reliant. We know the answers to so much now, we have great banking and manufacturing systems. We know how the world works.
Frankly, we no longer need Jesus.
We have too much and have accomplished too much and have heard too much empty Jesus talk so that we no longer can see Him being able to transform us. We’ve learned that the world just doesn’t work that way, so Jesus has no power for us. He has no honor here.
Several weeks ago, when I read about the faith of the bleeding woman who was healed, I wondered why I didn’t have such faith. Why can’t I simply know that by being in the presence of Jesus, I could be changed?
A friend who once had a blog called Virusdoc, asked me a couple of years ago if I thought real transformation was still possible. In his view, even religious people simply weren’t transformed. Did it still happen? I wanted to answer yes, but the evidence was on his side. Religious folk talked a lot about living with their sin, but there weren’t many stories of real transformation. Certainly not in proportion to the number of professed believers. I wondered why.
Go dig up stories, however, from China or India or Iraq and you’ll find transformations and miracles left and right. It’s amazing. This week, the leaders of the church we support in Indonesia will be here to share what God’s doing there. They’ve done it before, and it’s astounding what happens with their faith, and a bit humbling and scary. Frankly, Jesus simply isn’t doing here in America what he is in Indonesia. The difference? They are poor and know they are in need, we are wealthy and think we are set. As a result, I think their Jesus is still huge and amazing, while ours, like those in Nazareth, is too familiar and routine.
I realize that my Jesus is too small, or rather, my faith in myself is far too big. I want to be amazed be Jesus again. I want to know that he is able, no matter how big the odds. I want to reach out and touch his cloak, knowing that a simple brush of the fabric has the power to transform. And hearing his words here in Mark 10, I’m more than a little frightened to be so wealthy. But I take comfort in verse 27:

Jesus looked at them and said, “With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.”

Mark 10:13-16 – I’ve often wondered about this passage. What exactly was Jesus getting t saying we need to receive the kingdom like a child? I mean, there are many ways I can imagine that being like a child wouldn’t be good. My kids can be down right selfish and stubborn, I’m assuming that Jesus is not telling us to imitate that.
I think, though, that he wants us to imitate their innocence and faith. My kids listen and I teach them about God an Jesus. When I tell them what God thinks is important and how God wants us to view the world, they take it in, absorbing it as fact. They don’t analyze and scrutinize (for the most part), the simply accept it. That’s how we ought to approach Jesus. We don’t need explanations of how it all works before we believe. I think we seek that too much, and it holds us back.
Mark 10:17-22 – The price of following Jesus is high. He demands all of us, just as he did this man. It’s all too easy to shake our heads at him and his unwillingness to go all the way, but are we much different? What lines have we drawn that we won’t cross for Jesus? Have we marked out a nice, comfortable boundary to practice our faith in and we aren’t’ willing to step outside of it?
Jesus demanded all of this man, he demands it from us too. That’s his call, all or nothing. It sounds harsh, and for me, it can send my mind reeling on this fools errand of determining if I’m doing enough or not. It gets me worked up and worried about where I stand. That’s not Jesus’ point, I know, but it’s hard to separate full commitment from working for approval from God. Approval is not tied to performance, but that’s how we are conditioned to see it. It’s true in our jobs and school and in too many of our relationships, so we think that it’s true of God too.
Actually, like so many things of God, it’s the opposite. God’s approval is not tied to our performance, rather our performance is tied to God’s approval. What I mean is, we ought not to seek to perform better, rather we ought to simple seek God. As we see him and His holiness and as we see that we are not like him but yet he loves us and, through Jesus, approves of us in spite of our shortcomings, we ought to be motivated to live as he expects. We have it backwards. We seek to be good so God will be pleased, but God is already pleased so we are free to be good.

I sat down the other day to get back to my Bible reading, but I didn’t get very far. Jesus’ words on divorce in the beginning of Mark 10 really made me think.
Mark 10:1-12 – Jesus in this passage gives no acceptable reason for divorce. None. Luke 16 agrees, but both Matthew 5 & Matthew 19 show Jesus making an exception for sexual immorality. Paul in 1 Corinthians 7 seems to broaden this slightly by allowing at least separation if an unbelieving spouse desires to leave the believer. Paul says the believer is no longer bound in such cases, which seems to imply that divorce is appropriate.
Today, of course, divorce happens for far more trivial reasons. Of course, there are reasons that aren’t so trivial such as abuse. Was there no spousal abuse in Jesus’ or Paul’s day that they did not feel compelled to address it? I hardly think that’s possible. So why didn’t they? It seems that the abused wife would be one whom Jesus would want to protect and address, yet he did not. So we are left to search our own souls and dig through he old and new testaments to determine for ourselves what is best.
Of course then there are situations where folks divorce and then become believers. Are they given a fresh start? Does it become like they were married? A lot of questions but not many definitive answers. The new testament only covers a couple of the many scenarios we might encounter. It seems that God is content to simply state that he hold marriage in high regard and we ought to as well. We must keep that in mind as we ponder these things and sort them out as we need to.
This reminds me that Codepoke has written some good, thought provoking stuff last year on divorce. This post in particular speaks to a way to interpret Jesus’ words that handles the seemingly glaring omission of abuse. The big question being – What if the recorded words of Jesus weren’t his only convictions on the topic? Codepoke’s post was inspired by this compelling Christianity Today article by David Instone-Brewer. He makes the argument that Jesus wasn’t answering a universal ‘when is divorce OK’ question but rather a specific question on a specific controversial kind of divorce popular in Jesus’ day called the ‘any cause’ divorce.
These ideas are attractive to me for the same reasons they are attractive to Codepoke. They provide compassion and a path of escape for the victims of abuse and neglect. (Read this older post from Codepoke too on how divorce might be seen, actually, as mercy from God.) Of course, that does not make it true or valid, but it does seem to mesh with our Lord’s compassion shown in other areas, like the woman caught in adultery or the good Samaritan as well as the constant drumbeat of the Old Testament about caring for the neglected and outcast. Codepoke points out the same, stating that he’s not yet completely comfortable with the position (or at least he wasn’t last November), no matter how attractive it may be or how neatly it seems to tie up some unclear loose ends. I’d say that most Christians have found the idea that a woman cannot escape an abusive marriage unless the man cheats a little uncomfortable and frankly have looked the other way when such a woman in fact gets a divorce.
I have to say that I’m more ready than Codepoke was to accept this. It makes too much sense to me for a lot of reasons. Have a read of Codepoke’s post (and the thoughtful comments as well) and the CT article and let me know what you think.

Mark 9:4 – How did they know it was Moses and Elijah? Did they hear Jesus call them by name? Did Jesus introduce them? “Moses, I’d like you to meet my friends Peter, James and John. Elijah, come over here …” No wonder Peter was a little frazzled.
Mark 9:10 – Imagine the conversation here – “What did he mean ‘rise from the dead’? I mean, if he’s going to rise then he’s got to … no way, he’s the savior!” 😀
Mark 9:19 – I can imagine Jesus’ frustration. He goes up to get some encouragement, from old friends and from his father, leaving the disciples for just a little while. And while he’s gone, they haven’t learned enough after these years with him to heal one boy. Sheesh, people, come on!
Then again, I’ve been with Jesus for more than a few years. Could I heal one boy? When will my faith mature?
Mark 9:20-24 – To me, this is one of the funniest scenes in the gospels. Here’s this father, brought a boy to be healed and got nowhere with the disciples. But now Jesus is here, and the evil spirit gives them a show, throwing the boy down right there. He’s convulsing and foaming at the mouth. While the boy is in the throws of the seizure, Jesus turns and calmly asks “How long has he been like this?” I can see the Dad, turning from his boy, thrashing on he ground, and Jesus. “Uh, from childhood … ” No wonder he says “If you can do anything …” The disciples couldn’t do it and now Jesus seems oblivious.
I wonder if this doesn’t’ teach us something about Jesus. That he doesn’t get freaked out when the situation turns on him. He knows the outcome, who cares if it’s out of control for now. He knows it’s going to be fine. Perhaps he’s testing the father’s faith a bit too, revealing the cracks in his convictions. When those cracks come to light, Jesus calls him on it and the father cries out a single statement that proclaims both his faith and his need for help with it at once.
Mark 9:29 – So, if it can only come out by prayer – when in the story did Jesus pray? The time line doesn’t show any gaps, certainly no time for “I’m going to the mountain to beseech the father on your behalf. Await patiently for my return and you shall be delivered!” There’s a seizure, a conversation with dad, a statement of faith, a command and the spirit comes out. No pauses, but somewhere in there, Jesus prayed. He prayed the prayer that made all the difference, a prayer than could only possibly be a single, maybe two, short sentences.
So, our prayers, even the most critical, need only be a sentence or two to be effective.
Mark 9:38-41 – There’s a lesson in there when folks who we think aren’t ‘of Jesus’ are doing good works in his name.

Mark 8:1-10 – Since there’s a similar story in Mark 6, I’m sometimes tempted to think this duplicate is an error, a mistake of Mark’s memory. Surely, this didn’t happen twice, right? But why not? John tells us at the end of his gospel that there were many things left out that Jesus did. Jesus healed more than one beggar, raised more than one dead person to life, why wouldn’t he have fed more than one crowd? For some reason, this miracle seems more unbelievable than the rest. I guess I can picture a man getting healed, I can see it happening. I can’t picture how 7 loaves and a few fish feed thousands.
Mark 8:14-21 – They missed Jesus’ point about the Pharisees and Herod, thinking he was chastising them because they forgot the bread. Perhaps their failure was on their hearts, maybe they were hoping he hadn’t noticed, so when he said ‘yeast’ they thought of the lack of bread. But Jesus points out that they never need worry about the lack of bread, he has proven himself able to deal with that challenge. This is a more subtle way of saying what he did in Matthew 6 – don’t worry about the needs of this world. I know that you need to eat and I will provide. Instead, be focused on heaven and concern yourself with the things that will misdirect you away from there.
Mark 8:22-26 – I wonder, why didn’t the first time ‘take’? Surely, it wasn’t Jesus’ failing. Was it the man’s lack of faith? Were there two conditions that needed to be healed, and Jesus tackled them one at a time. God decided that we needed to see Jesus taking two steps to heal this man, but decided that we didn’t need to know why he did. I wonder what the point we are to take from it is.
Mark 8:32 – I’ve wondered in the past if the disciples didn’t’ hear these teachings of Jesus referring to his coming death and dismiss them as a parable that they didn’t quite understand. Surely, it couldn’t mean what it sounded like? But Peter here clearly understands, but he thinks that Jesus is wrong. No Jesus, that’s not how it goes! We are not doing this that way! Peter had forgotten who was the master and who was the disciple.
Mark 8:34-38 – We used to twist this to mean that Jesus was teaching us to share our faith. His purpose was to go to the cross, ours is to make disciples, therefore take up your cross = share your faith. It’s pretty easy to use similar logic to read all kids of things into what Jesus was saying here.
Reading it this time, however, I see the broader context. Jesus just spoke of his coming death and rebuked Peter for it. He then clarifies what’s to come. He would not be put on the cross, he would take it up himself. He willingly would relinquish his life here on Earth for the joy of the life to come. If we are to follow him, we must do the same. Pick up our own crosses and lay down our Earthly lives. He reinforces the point by saying the best Earthly life we can achieve is worth nothing compared with eternity.
It’s not about any one practice or doctrine, it’s about changing our minds & hearts to look heavenward. If we do, then our actions will follow.

Mark 7:5-8 – On the surface, this seems a harsh response to a legitimate questions – Why don’t you wash? Of course, the question wasn’t likely that legit, considering the source. It was more an accusation – What makes you think you can side step our traditions?
An Jesus’ response is not a condemnation of their practices, it’s a call to realign their priorities. He didn’t condemn their traditions, he simply called for them to be put in proper perspective. They are of men, not of God. Honor what God would honor first, then follow you traditions if it does not contradict God’s ways.
This is human nature, to substitute tradition and practice for a heart following God. If we set our heart on following God, we will likely not always follow tradition. But we like things simple, easy to implement. Traditions are like that. We always _____. Fill in the blank. Go to church on Sunday morning, read our Bibles before breakfast, pray for our dinner, give a certain dollar amount to church, etc. As we routinely follow what we’ve always done, we run the risk of missing what God has called us to at that moment, or perhaps what we might do for God that’s greater. Instead of giving that full amount to your fairly well off American church, what if you took some and sponsored a child in a needy country or supported a local soup kitchen. Instead of reading your Bible every morning before breakfast, what if some mornings you took that and your breakfast time to go bring a hot meal to a lonely retiree before work? I wonder if God isn’t desiring for us, as He did the Pharisees, to loosen our grip on our traditions a bit so that we might serve him better.
Mark 7:14-23 – In this passage Jesus once and for all (although some don’t seem to have gotten it) declared that food cannot defile us. But even more frightening, he declares that what does defile us comes from within. We cannot say the devil made me do it nor it was because my Dad didn’t love me. Although those factors are real and have power to influence us, we cannot lay the blame for our guilt at their feet. The scary truth is that the evil comes from within our own hearts. We defile ourselves.
Mark 7:28-29 – What was in this woman’s statement that moved Jesus? Humility & faith. Humility in that she understood her place and that, as a Gentile, she had no right to claim anything from the king of the Jews. Jesus effectively called her a dog and she effectively admitted that was what she was and she was willing to accept what a dog gets, the leftovers. Her faith was saying, essentially, “After you’ve spent yourself on your people, the Jews, just give me whatever is left over. That will be enough.”

Mark 6:5 – It’s amazing to me how Jesus power seemed to be limited by the faith of those hearing Him. It doesn’t say that He chose not to do any ‘mighty work’, but that He could not do any. This goes back to Mark 5 and the woman healed – am I and my shallow faith limiting what Jesus can do in my life? It’s hard to find the path between working hard on my faith to produce results from Jesus and getting the faith to allow Jesus to work. The first is really a works mindset, or some sort of ‘power of positive thinking’ psychology masked as faith, but how does one work at your faith with out working for the result of faith?
Mark 6:7-13 – He gave them authority to heal, but healing was not their message. Their message was “that people should repent.”
Mark 6:20, 26 – He feared John, it says in verse 20, and that was why he didn’t execute him. Yet, when backed into a corner it becomes clear that he feared his wife or perhaps public embarrassment more.
Mark 6:28 – I’ve often felt sorry for this girl, who, because of her mother’s hard heart and sin, gets handed a freshly severed head on a platter. I wonder how that image haunted her later in life?
Mark 6:30-44 – I wonder what it was like to be in that crowd. I wrote a story once, based on the account in John 6, from the perspective of the father of the boy with the loaves (not mentioned here). I think I’m that Dad in my story, the grumpy Dad, led reluctantly by his wife and kids into a miracle. One he would have missed if it weren’t for them.
Mark 6:56 – I don’t remember making the connection with this account here of folks touching his garments and being healed and the woman from Mark 5.

Mark 5:21 – They head back across and I wonder – did Jesus cross there simply to meet that demon possessed man?
Mark 5:28 – This woman’s faith is remarkable. She simply heard about Jesus and deduced that he was powerful enough that a single touch, not of the man himself, but of his clothing, would heal her.
And she was right.
Jesus never taught that, never even hinted at that. She figured it out and went for it in faith.
What an amazing lesson for us. We who are immersed in Jesus culture, hear the lessons preached, the parables explained, the teachings enumerated. We who know Jesus inside and out and have access to all his teachings and volumes upon volumes of commentary on them.
Yet we sit in our own sin, wondering how we can be cured?
This ticks me off, frankly, on a personal level for I wallow and wring my hands over my own sin. This woman was really suffering, bleeding and bleeding and bleeding and bleeding and bleeding. No one had been able to help her and many smart men had tried. If anyone had reason to be skeptical and doubt, she did. But she saw Jesus and believed. It was that simple. She didn’t require anything of him but access.
Here we sit – here I sit – with all the access in the world. I know that Jesus is readily available. I know that I can reach out and touch him today, right now. I understand it all, what I lack is faith. I can see Jesus. Jesus the healer, the restorer, the savior. I can see him, but he’s not real enough to me. I can see him, but I guess I don’t believe my eyes and I explain it away.
I’m tired of being the same yet proclaiming Jesus. I can see enough of Him to know that there’s something wrong with that picture. Folks who see him, really see Him, don’t stay the same. They are healed, transformed, changed.
If I see Jesus, am I willing to believe in what I see?

And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.

Mark 5:34

Mark 5:35-43 – I find great hope in the story of Jairus, especially reflecting on the bleeding woman’s story which is wedged in the middle of it. They both came in faith, but before he could get what he came for, Jairus is hit with reality. Jairus was faced with the obvious facts. The servants say she’s dead, they arrive to weeping and wailing, the people laugh at them when Jesus says she’s only asleep. If I’m Jairus, it would take all my energy and focus to remain faithful in the face of all that reality.
But Jesus told him, “Do not fear, only believe.” And somehow he does.
And in they go, and there’s his daughter, dead. A few words from Jesus and she’s alive and walking.
Everyday, all around us we are confronted with reasons not to believe that Jesus can change us. Even religious folk will try to diminish you expectations, ground you in reality. Jesus, however, puts his hands on our cheeks, turns our head toward his face and away from ‘reality’ and says just what he said to Jairus:
“Do not fear, only believe.”

Mark 5:1-13 – Imagine the scene. The boat hits the beach, Jesus steps out and then there’s this guy, scarred from cutting himself with rocks and filthy, from living underground. He’s clearly mad (crazy), and he’s big. Not Fat Albert or Santa big, more like The Incredible Hulk big. I mean no one can bind him and he’s wrenching chains apart. This is no frail homeless guy, he’s a buff madman.
Not only that, but Jesus is engaging him. He sees Jesus and comes at him, Jesus is shouting at him “Come out!” and he’s demanding of Jesus “What have you to do with me …” and he already knows that Jesus is the Son of God, something you’ve only begun to figure out. It’s a bit of a chaotic scene.
If you were with Jesus, what would you be thinking? I’d be thinking that I want to stay on the boat for now, thank you. Maybe you’ve heard of this mysterious madman, tales from across the sea. Legends that you weren’t sure were true, but here he is now. And you likely wish he wasn’t.
But Jesus isn’t hoping he’ll go away, he’s engaging him in conversation. Asking his name. The man’s clearly possessed, and dangerous. Then Jesus shows two remarkable acts of compassion in one gesture – he sends the demons away from him and grants their wish to go into a nearby pig heard. Did you ever wonder about that? Why did Jesus care what the demons wanted?
Another thing you might notice. No one could control the demons in this man’s head, not even the man himself. But when Jesus arrived, the order of authority is clear. They submitted to Him. Period. They asked – and received – a favor, but it was clear that if He did not wish to grant it, they would obey. This brings to mind Romans 8. This is the God who is for us. Complete authority, nothing can stand to his will.
And he stands for us.
So why, then, do I fear confronting my own demons? Why do I let them torment me? Why do I wring my hands, wondering if I can overcome?
Mark 6:14-20 – Now you’re in the crowd of locals, running to the news that this wacko had been cured. And there he is, “the one who had the legion, sitting there, clothed and in his right mind.” This man had likely scared the willies out of you, and he’s sitting there chatting with this stranger who had evidently cured him. On one had, you might rejoice that this menace was gone from your town. On the other, a man with power over that which you were powerless is scary indeed.
Now imagine you are the man who was cured. For years, running wild, not able to talk or be with anyone. People run from you and you wish you could run from yourself, unable to control this frenzy living inside you.
Have you ever wished, hoped against hope, that you could be different. Not richer or prettier, but truly, deep down in the depths of your soul different. no longer the man plagued by lusts, the woman tormented by lies, no longer given to anger, drinking, violence or … I have.
This man lived it every day and now it was true. He was rid of that which had controlled and tormented him. It was completely understandable that he would want to go away with Jesus, there was nothing there for him. He had likely hurt anyone who was ever close to him.
But Jesus says no, he has a differnt mission for him. Go back to the nearby owns, the towns of people who tried to tie you up, the people you frightened. Go there and tell them what God has done for you.
And here’s the remarkable thing – he goes. I wonder, would I go? I’d be tempted to go back to the caves, to the familiar.
So I also wonder, what mission has God given me now that I’m avoiding for the safety of the familiar?
I love this story. Check out this dramatized version from Real Live Preacher (not for folks who are offended by fishermen disciples who occasionally swear like, well, fishermen).

Mark 4:10-12 – I wonder, if his teachings were in parables that went over the heads of most, why did the crowds come? The simple answers, I suppose, are that likely not everything was in parables and that many were there to see healings or be healed.
Mark 4:13 – Mark paints a more frustrated and less understanding Jesus here than Luke did. From Luke I have a picture of a patient Jesus, confident that they will eventually ‘get it’ although they don’t know. Here, Jesus seems frustrated and less patient.
Mark 4:26-28 – My first thought on this was it is so contrary to the ICOC way of thinking. We believed that we could produce the fruit, the crop. We could make it happen. Here Jesus says that the Kingdom doesn’t work that way. Just as a farmer doesn’t know how a seed turns to a plant, we can’t produce disciples from the seed we sow. All we are called to do is sow, God makes it grow. So what we ought to be concerned with is planting, that’s all, God’s concerned with the growing.
We were always focused on the growth. If it didn’t happen, we’d work furiously to produce something.
Mark 4:34 – So much for the ‘not all his teachings were in parables’ theory. 😛