Mark 8: Being Conscious About What Kind of Yeast Leavens Our Lives

Mark 8 contains a collection of stories that mostly appear in both the gospel of Matthew and the gospel of Luke, with some slight variation. Some of the phrases and teachings even make an appearance in the gospel of John. As we have mentioned previously, the gospel of Mark was probably the earliest to be written and distributed, especially considering that some of its stories are copied verbatim by the authors of Matthew and Luke. In Mark 8, we read of another feeding of the multitudes (or perhaps another story of the feeding of the multitude in Mk 6:30-44), a warning against following the teaching of the Pharisees, a healing story, and a famous altercation between the  Jesus and Peter characters. Since we have already considered the feeding of the multitudes and healing stories in some detail, we'll spend some time with the new material in the teachings of these verses. For now, we can concentrate on the first half of the chapter, specifically Mark 8:11-21.

The Pharisees appear once more to challenge Jesus by requesting a sign, some demonstration that he is more than just a Zealot rabble-rouser. He proclaims that there will be no sign forthcoming for his generation. In the gospel of Mark, that is the end of the discussion. No sign. Period. This, despite the claim that he was going about the countryside healing people left and right and feeding multitudes with miniscule amounts of food. So apparently these were not signs of anything spectacular. Most likely, this is because there were several so-called miracle workers running around in the first century. What exactly could the Pharisees have wanted if healing and wonder-working were commonplace enough to be inadmissible as evidence of divinity? That's not really the important question. No one can know what the Pharisees were really demanding or even if they ever actually confronted a historical Jesus. The question is placed by the author of Mark into the mouths of theoretical critics in order to prompt a theological answer: No signs for you.

In other words, according to the author of Mark, there is no proof and there will be no proof (for that generation at least) that Jesus is anything special. This answer wasn't good enough for the author of Matthew, who added the caveat,

except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the whale, so will the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth. The men of Nin'eveh will arise at the judgment with this generation and condemn it; for they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and behold, something greater than Jonah is here. The queen of the South will arise at the judgment with this generation and condemn it; for she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and behold, something greater than Solomon is here. (Mt 12:39-42)

This "sign of Jonah" was also cited by the author of Luke (Lk 11:29-32), except that the gospel of Luke doesn't interpret this sign as an allusion to death and resurrection. Actually, one might assume that resurrection would have been a pretty serious sign of something to that generation. So, somewhere between the writing of the gospel of Mark and the writing of the gospel of Matthew, belief in a messianic resurrection must have become more widespread. The gospel of Mark doesn't even include any resurrection appearances after the passion narrative. This suggests that the beliefs and assertions of the Jesus cult were still evolving as the Bible was being written.

What good is it for a person to go around claiming to be a divine figure and then assert that there won't be any forthcoming evidence? As a theological assertion, the author of Mark may have been pointing to the humility of Jesus. Presumably, he is not out to draw attention to himself through performing miracles on demand, he is doing what he is doing for a different, more noble purpose. Perhaps the author of Mark was pointing to the ignorance and blindness of the Pharisees; the verse is followed by a strongly-worded criticism against that sect. There is also a deeper message here that rings true with human experience, though. If one wants to know a person's values or deeply held beliefs, one need only observe their actions. By corollary, then, if you want people to know what you believe and value, make sure your actions demonstrate those beliefs and values clearly.

The criticism the author of Mark has Jesus level at the Pharisees actually supports this truth as well. The author of Mark doesn't spell it out as clearly as the authors of Matthew and Luke, but the general warning is the same: Beware the yeast of the Pharisees and the Herodians. (The Herodians were another political cult in the first century, supportive of Herod the Great and his dynasty.) The passage in the gospel of Mark doesn't state why there was something amiss with the teachings of the Pharisees, but the author of Luke says it plainly when he relates this teaching: The Pharisees are hypocrites. In other words, they say one thing and do another. They claim to believe something that is not clearly demonstrated in their actions. And presumably following their teachings--allowing their "yeast" to bud and ferment in one's psyche and spirit--will lead to hypocrisy in one's own life.

There is a comparison happening in these parallel passages between signs and truth. People can be so impressed with astounding behaviors and unusual events that they can go chasing after personalities with only a shallow understanding of what that individual stands for. Jonah was a "sign" to the people of Nineveh not because he was vomited up on the beach after three days inside a big fish, but because he spoke boldly, passionately, and sincerely to them. The people of Nineveh still had to take personal responsibility for what they would do with Jonah's words, and that required them to weigh his message carefully and thoughtfully. They weren't just pursuing some new shiny distraction.

What the authors of the gospel suggested about Jesus was that he was not just a shiny distraction or a bit of entertainment or even a conquering general to drive back the Romans and reclaim Jerusalem. Perhaps Jesus represented a way of being that was more about integrity than it was about miracles, more about treating people with respect than about distracting people from their lives, more about growing people through empowering them than about growing a following by bedazzling them. In other words, the core of the message is about what ordinary people can do in relation to one another, not what people must rely on an extraordinary person to do for them.

That is not necessarily the Jesus message that is propagated throughout Christian circles today, but perhaps the quality of Christlike-ness is more about living with integrity in one's own life than it is about telling others how they must live. Perhaps our human social constructs have given us permission to practice hypocrisy, and that practice has spread like yeast through our habits, our relationships, and our ideals. Whatever we may believe about Jesus, it seems that at least some portion of the gospel message advocates understanding one's own self deeply, knowing and trusting in one's guiding principles and living by them with integrity, and actually valuing one's values enough to act in alignment with them. We do not need faith for that. We do not need miraculous proof. In fact, if we were to live like this--with intentionality and integrity in all our moments--we would be the sign, perhaps even enough of a sign to inspire others. That's worthwhile leavening.

Jonah: A Challenge to Recognize that Everyone Is Worthy of Mercy

Although there is more to learn from the books of Kings and Chronicles, the book of Jonah is as well considered here as anywhere else, since it is set during the reign of Jeroboam II, in the 8th century BCE. This fictional book was probably written much later, in the 5th or 4th century BCE, given the subject matter of this short tale, which in part asserts that God cares about Gentiles too.

The summary of this familiar tale is as follows: Yahweh asks Jonah to go proclaim judgment on the Assyrian capital, Ninevah. Jonah runs away and gets on a boat headed as far away from Ninevah as possible. The boat gets caught in a bad storm (because Yahweh is angry at Jonah), and the unwilling prophet gets thrown overboard and swallowed by an immense sea creature. After Jonah’s prayer (which may have been inserted into the story later), Yahweh tells the beast to vomit Jonah up on a beach, and it does. Then Yahweh sends Jonah to Ninevah again, and this time Jonah goes. He preaches hellfire and brimstone to the people of Ninevah so effectively that they become a repentant population. This really pisses Jonah off, because he was at least hoping to see the city get destroyed and all the evil-doers punished. Yahweh has mercy on Ninevah, and Jonah goes outside the city to sulk. Yahweh then teaches Jonah a little lesson about how the prophet’s selfish anger contrasts with the merciful and active Yahweh.

Jonah is one of those biblical stories that doesn’t need a whole lot of interpretation. If we translate the text into a new way of defining divinity, we might say that Jonah was a man who was compelled by a deep desire to create a better world, but that he allowed fear of how he would be received by others guide him 180 degrees from where he most wanted to be. Even when he stopped running, he interpreted his vision of a better world as requiring that some people (and even some animals) be destroyed—another layer of irrational fear that still kept him from seeing clearly. When other people responded with receptivity toward Jonah’s vision, he became angry because he had prepared for a fight.

He wanted people who were different from him to suffer—to be annihilated—and his narcissistic attitude wasn’t eager to find creative ways to coexist with others, even when they were willing to adapt a new way of being because of his message. Jonah had a narrow way of viewing the world. One might say he had limiting mental models. He wanted justice for other people, but he was quite happy with claiming grace for himself. He let his fear and anger control him rather than digging into those emotions to discover something he could work on within himself. But in the end, the story affirms that everyone is worthy of mercy. Everyone is worthy of grace.

We can probably find a lot of points of comparison with Jonah. Perhaps when someone goes speeding past us recklessly on the road, we hope they get into an accident, or at least that a cop is waiting around the next curve for them. When people behave differently than we want them to, we make them our enemies in our minds. We are often eager to speak judgmental words against things we don’t like, but we rarely take the time to speak inspiring words about the lives we most want to create. We are tempted to rejoice when people we don’t like suffer, and we are loathe to celebrate with people we don’t like, even when it wouldn’t cost us a thing to do so. We draw lines of Us and Them, just like Jonah did with the people of Ninevah.

However, Jonah did a few admirable things, too. He took the blame when the ship was having trouble, and even though we know that doing something bad won’t bring foul weather your way, in the context of the story Jonah was clearly at fault. Jonah also overcame his initial fear of how he would be received by people in Ninevah. He didn’t keep digging beyond that, but it took courage for him to make the first step out of his comfort zone. We also don’t know if Jonah learned anything in the end. It might be that he realized how unsatisfying his selfish perspective was, and he might have started to look with fresh eyes at people who were different from him.

Even though we don’t know how Jonah’s story truly ends, though, we have the great opportunity and responsibility of determining whether we will learn something from his story. If we are willing to dig into our fears and our anger and get to the root of what holds us back in life, we may find that our way of seeing the world is not very helpful to us. If we are willing to recognize how people are similar to us—that there really is no Them except in our own minds—we may find that our inherent creativity is as useful for building connections as it is for destroying them. If we are willing to articulate the kind of world we want, and if we are willing to ask ourselves the difficult questions that dig into why we want what we want, we might discover for ourselves a compelling vision that we just cannot run away from. It requires a level of honesty and insight that Jonah wasn’t prepared for, but there’s no reason for us to be ruled by our irrational fears and our anger. Underneath all of our judgments and fears about other people, we know that human beings have a lot more in common with each other than they have differences. Sometimes the differences seem huge, but often that is just because our minds make the differences more important than they actually are.

So, what’s really important?

No…

            what’s really important?