Mark 16:9-18

CRITICAL AND EXEGETICAL NOTES

Mark 16:9. See Appendix, p. 641.

Mark 16:15. Go ye into all the world.—That is to say, “Go wherever ye will, wherever ye can, that the gospel may be diffused: no limits of place are henceforth prescribed to you.” Every creature.—Every human creature. Cp. “all nations” (Matthew 20:19), as contrasted with the one Jewish nation to which their labours hitherto had been restricted. See Matthew 10:5.

Mark 16:16. He that believeth not.—Against heretics denying, from the omission in this latter clause, the necessity of baptism, it is sufficient to reply that baptism, if not a necessary means of grace, would not have been introduced as such, and without qualification, in the previous clause—to say nothing of the assertion of its necessity elsewhere (e.g. John 3:3). Nor, indeed, is the insistence on baptism really absent from this clause after all; although not verbally expressed, it is evidently implied; the previous conjunction of the two—faith and baptism—is such that to accept or deny one is to accept or deny both. Moreover, saving faith is practical, and includes the observance of all things enjoined, of which baptism is among the first.

Mark 16:17. These signs shall follow them that believe.—Not to be understood of every believer, nor of all times alike. Miracles were more needed while the Church was in its infancy than after it had obtained a secure footing in the world. Yet it must not be concluded that the power of miracles in the body of the faithful is absolutely extinct. We dare not attempt to draw the line, and say that miracles were possible up to such a date, but not beyond, since God has not drawn any such line for us Himself. To be critical in investigating evidence is wise and right; to be sceptical, in the teeth of evidence, is foolish and wrong.

MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.— Mark 16:9

(PARALLELS: Matthew 28:9; Luke 24:13; John 20:11.)

Christ’s first appearance after His Resurrection.—

I. Why did He appear first to a woman?—

1. To shew that God is no respecter of persons (Romans 2:11)—that is, that in the bestowing of spiritual graces or privileges God does not regard the outward quality or condition of the persons upon whom He bestows them, but He doth freely and indifferently bestow such graces and privileges upon persons of all sorts and conditions—upon women as well as men, poor as well as rich, etc.

2. To shew that the fruit and benefit of His resurrection, and consequently of His death and passion, belong to women as well as to men.

II. Why did He appear first to this woman in particular?—

1. Because she shewed most love to Christ, and was most forward and diligent in seeking after Him.

(1) She is first named; yea, she alone (John 20:1).

(2) She continued longest seeking.
(3) She sought Him with tears.
2. To comfort her against her former miserable and afflicted condition.

Lessons.—

1. Christ is most ready and forward to reveal and manifest Himself and His comfortable presence to such as truly and earnestly love Him, and are most forward to shew and express their love towards Him.
2. Christ hath a great care of such of His saints and servants as have been in great misery and distress, that they may not want comfort and encouragement afterward.
3. Such as have received great mercies and favours from God, if they be thankful to Him and make good use of those favours, shall have more added unto them.
4. The more any have tasted of the mercy of God, the more they will love God and Christ, and the more forward they will be to shew their love by its fruits.—G. Petter.

Christ’s appearance to two disciples.—Had St. Luke’s Gospel never been written, or contained no reference to this incident, we might have indulged in a variety of conjectures and speculations regarding it. “Who were these two disciples?” we might have asked; “and where were they going? On what day, and what time of day? What are we to understand by the expression ‘in another form’? Did Christ merely shew Himself to them? or did He converse with them? and if so, on what subjects? If He appeared to them under a different form from that under which they had hitherto known Him, how did they recognise Him? What feelings and impressions did the incident leave upon their minds?” These and many other questions might have been suggested by St. Mark’s brief account; but little or nothing satisfactory could have resulted from the inquiry. In this state of uncertainty, how gladly should we have welcomed the discovery of another and hitherto unknown portion of Scripture, containing the very information we were seeking—a narrative taken down from the lips of one of the two disciples, giving a full and particular account of the whole transaction—just such a narrative, in short, as we find in Luke 24:13! Let us suppose that this narrative were now before us for the first time, and see what information may be obtained from it as to the particulars upon which we were in doubt.

I. The meeting of the two disciples with their Risen Lord.—St. Mark only states that after Jesus had first appeared to Mary Magdalene, who “went and told them that had been with Him” (i.e. the general body of disciples in Jerusalem), but failed to convince them—“after that He appeared in another form unto two” of those who had heard Mary’s story and believed it not. We might almost infer from this that the appearances both took place on Easter Day itself; and St. Luke confirms this (Luke 24:13). We also gather from his account that it was in the afternoon (Luke 24:29). The name of one of them—“Cleopas”—is mentioned incidentally (Luke 24:18); but no hint is given as to who the other was. All we know for certain is, that he was not one of the eleven apostles (Luke 24:33). To these two disciples, then, Jesus appeared, “as they walked and went into the country.” Had we only St. Mark’s statement, we might have supposed it was a walk of recreation, not of business (as Genesis 24:63). What could be more natural than for persons in such a state of agitation and suspense to seek an opportunity of calm reflexion and discussion in a quiet country walk! We learn, however, from St. Luke that they were on their way to a certain place, several miles distant from Jerusalem (Luke 24:13), where they intended to lodge that night (Luke 24:29), though whether at an inn, or at the house of one of them, or at a friend’s house we cannot determine. As they walked they talked; and their conversation could not but turn upon those recent and still passing events in which they were so deeply interested (Luke 24:14). Their hearts were full, and “out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.” Their discourse was earnest and solemn, for it related to matters on the ultimate event of which the whole course and character of their future lives might turn. As they thus talked a Stranger came up and joined them. It was Jesus; yet they knew Him not (Luke 24:15). They were not struck with blindness; they saw other objects, and saw them as they really were; they saw the person and features of Jesus Himself, but by some providential arrangement of which we can form no conception they were prevented from recognising Him. Even His voice, with whose accents they must have been as familiar as a child with its parent’s, failed to convey its wonted impressions to their ears. The same mysterious influence which had been exercised for a brief period over the senses of Mary Magdalene (John 20:14) now took possession of them, and maintained its ascendency throughout the lengthened conversation which ensued. First the two disciples related to the Stranger “the things which were come to pass there in those days” (John 20:18). When they had finished their statement, the Stranger Himself took up the discourse; and their share in the conversation consisted chiefly (we may suppose) in such inquiries and remarks as scholars are in the habit of addressing to their master, to elicit further explanation, and so forth. There was but one subject which at that time could be of the slightest interest to any of the party, viz. the accordance of all that had happened to Jesus with the prophetic announcements respecting the Messiah (John 20:25). On this subject He held His hearers in mute and rapt attention until towards evening they drew near their destination. All this time they had no idea who their Companion really was; but thinking Him a man like themselves, they begged Him to take up His quarters with them for the night. All three therefore turned in, and sat down to meat; and it was during this meal that the mist or veil was removed from their eyes, and they saw Him in His own proper form in which He had always appeared to them. Even the precise moment of the discovery is recorded by St. Luke (Luke 24:30; Luke 24:35); it was when He was in the act of breaking bread, and blessing it, and giving it to them, that they recognised Him who had so often before performed the same pious act in their presence. The recognition being complete, the purpose of this whole transaction was answered, and Jesus “vanished out of their sight.”

II. The feelings of the two disciples in the presence of their Risen Lord.—“Did not our heart burn within us!” they exclaimed (Luke 24:32). The expression is a striking one, and seems to be as pregnant with meaning as their hearts were with feeling. It indicates the presence not of one but of many strong and stirring emotions within the breast, all too big for the confined space in which they were pent up. It reminds us of the psalmist’s language (Psalms 39:3), or of Jeremiah’s (Jeremiah 20:9).

1. The first feeling excited in their breasts was perhaps that of hope. They had had hope in Christ before (Luke 24:21); but His condemnation and death had filled their minds with despondency. To look for the salvation of their nation to One who had not been able to save Himself would indeed have been to hope against hope. But the discourse of their Fellow-traveller rekindled the dying embers, and fanned them into a flame. Did not the Scriptures of the prophets expressly point to a suffering as well as a triumphant Messiah, and suffering in order to triumph? See Isaiah 53. And as to His being alive again, as announced to the women by a vision of angels, why should they discredit it or be astonished at it? See Psalms 16:10. If we at this day are able to build up for ourselves “a good hope through grace” on the foundation of these and similar texts, we may imagine what it must have been to hear Jesus Himself “expounding in all the Scriptures the things concerning” His own sufferings and exaltation; we may well believe that while they listened the hearts of these two disciples beat high with hope—the hope of seeing their Lord again, triumphant over death and the grave, and of themselves sharing His triumph. We often hear it said, “What is life without hope?” but those who say it are thinking of some temporal advantage, some improvement in worldly condition, the hope of which cheers them under present difficulties and animates them to fresh exertion in the struggle of life. But what is life, when all its hopes are realised and all its objects attained, without the Christian hope?

2. Did not the hearts of the two disciples burn within them with love and gratitude while the unknown Object of that love talked with them by the way and opened to them the Scriptures? And what should be more effectual to inflame love where it exists, or to kindle it in hearts as yet unconscious of it, than the contemplation of those events which were recalled to the minds of these men by the discourse of Jesus? The thought of Christ being “wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities” is one with which we have been familiar from childhood, which may have weakened somewhat the effect it ought to have upon our minds. But whenever it is placed strongly and clearly before us, cold and dead must be that heart which does not respond to the appeal! Fools indeed must they be, and “slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken” and all that the Evangelists have recorded, who are not melted by the bare recital of all that the Son of God suffered in the flesh for us men and for our salvation!

3. Doubtless the predominant emotion was joy. The two disciples had set out on their journey in sorrow and heaviness. But as the Stranger proceeded to shew them from Scripture not only the probability but the certainty and necessity of their Lord’s resurrection, their hearts were cheered and warmed with the prospect of beholding Him again, in accordance with His own most gracious promise (John 16:20). And if they had cause to rejoice, how much more have we! See Psalms 118:24; 1 Corinthians 5:7.

Mark 16:14. The departing Saviour.—

I. Our departing Saviour’s chidings (Mark 16:14).—It sounds somewhat harsh to hear that the gentle Jesus mingled rebukes with His parting words. But it was love itself that gave birth to these upbraidings. It was not that Jesus took pleasure in reproaching His disciples, or that He did not wish them every comfort and peace of mind; but it was just because their highest welfare was the chief desire of His heart that He thus admonished them. Faith is the great saving grace; and where that is wanting there is misery, darkness, and death. It was just because He loved them, and wished to have them take in and possess the true joys of faith, that He upbraided them with their unbelief. Every interest of their own, and of those who were afterward to believe through their word, was put into terrible jeopardy by the indulgence of such stubborn scepticism. And as the Saviour loved them, and loved the souls of men in general, He referred to it in His last interview, expressed again His dissatisfaction, and gave to them, and through them to all men, a last solemn warning against “an evil heart of unbelief.” Nor can we plead that no such evil temper and hardness have in any way characterised us hitherto. Have we so believed the Resurrection of Christ as to take all its momentous implications home to our souls, and to have them living in our lives? Have we so believed it, “that like as Christ was raised up from the dead,” etc.? (Romans 6:4). Admitting that Christ is risen, have we then so risen with Him as to seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God? (Colossians 3:1). Conceding it as true that there is a blessed resurrection life for the virtuous and the good, have we really set ourselves to attain to that resurrection of the just? Yielding that Jesus is declared the Son of God with power, have we embraced Him with all our heart, and clung to Him as the only Saviour of our souls, and given ourselves to obey Him in all things as the Captain of our salvation?

II. Our departing Saviour’s commands (Mark 16:15).—Here is another grand testimony and manifestation of our Great Redeemer’s love. It is assumed that there is a heaven and that there is a hell; but the desire of Jesus is that all men should escape the horrors of the one and secure the blessedness of the other. He is “not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). But there is only one way in which men can be saved (John 3:36). The Saviour Himself here reannounces the same, and has made it firm and unalterable for ever. But it is impossible for men to believe on the Son, or to turn themselves heartily to Him as their hope, without first having had Him preached unto them. This is now the grand commission of all Christ’s disciples. The gospel calls men not only to be saved themselves, but to be agents and messengers in carrying the same salvation to others. No Christian is exempt from its binding obligation, and no Christian is excluded from the high privilege and honour of taking part in it, according to his sphere and measure. There is indeed a line of discrimination to be observed between Christians in general and those who are the chosen and appointed ministers of the Church; but the election of some to officiate more directly for the rest assumes that there is a common office of this sort inhering in the whole body and in all its members in common. That office it is the business of every individual to exercise, if not in his own person, yet in and through others, by his vote, concurrence, and aid. But the mere preaching and hearing of the truth is not all. Something more is necessary in order to full profit in Divine grace. As Christ commands the preaching of the gospel to every one, so He also at the same time appoints and ordains the holy sacrament of baptism to be received by every one, as a test of his obedience to the truth, and as a further means of imparting His Holy Spirit. Faith without obedience is nothing, and salvation is promised only to him “that believeth and is baptised.” We must remember, also, that saving faith is not a product of our reason and will. “It is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8). It is a thing wrought in us by the Holy Ghost. And the instrument of the Holy Ghost is the Word and sacraments. God has appointed baptism as well as preaching; and the promise of salvation rests on one as upon the other. Hence it is written: “Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God” (John 3:5). And again: “Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost” (Titus 3:5). And, again, that “the ark wherein eight souls were saved by water” was a “like figure whereunto baptism doth also now save us,” which is “not the putting away of the filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good conscience toward God” (1 Peter 3:20). Hence the farewell charge of the loving Jesus is, that we carry this sacrament wheresoever we carry the gospel itself; and that, equally with our preaching of His truth to every creature, it is our duty to offer baptism to every creature, and to demand of all men obedience to the one as we require faith in the other, as the Divine conditions on which alone we are authorised to promise salvation to them that hear us.

III. Our departing Saviour’s promises (Mark 16:17).—These are grand and startling announcements. Scepticism has often pointed to them, and challenged Christians to attest their faith accordingly. Whether such miracles occur now or not, if they ever were actually wrought by Christians, then the promise has been fulfilled, and the taunt of infidelity falls to the ground. Turning back, then, to those trying times when Christianity went forth in a few humble fishermen and tent-makers, to grapple with the hoary systems which then held empire over the world, we are also abundantly certified that in no instance did these assurances fail (Hebrews 2:4). Were they to be able to cast out demons? (Acts 16:16; Acts 16:24; Acts 19:11). And many demons of pride, covetousness, uncleanness, drunkenness, gluttony, ambition, and demons of lust, hatred, moroseness, and spirits of wickedness of innumerable sorts, did these same apostles expel by their preaching, turning men from their idols and corruptions to serve the Living and True God—thus both literally and spiritually fulfilling the blessed promise of the Master, that in His name they should “cast out devils.” Were they to be able to speak in languages which they had never learned? (Acts 2:5; Acts 10:46). Were they to be able to take up poisonous reptiles unharmed? (Acts 28:1). Were they to be able to drink deadly draughts with impunity? Church history tells of a fatal potion prepared for the destruction of the Apostle John, which he drank, but was unhurt by the poisoned cup, which it was confidently counted would be his death. Were they to be able to heal the sick and the suffering? (Acts 3:1; Acts 9:33; Acts 14:8). And time would fail to tell the works of healing wonder which the disciples wrought in the name of Jesus, by prayer and the laying on of hands, in which the Master fulfilled His promise: “They shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.” “They went forth, and preached the Word everywhere, the Lord working with them, and confirming the Word with signs following.” Nor was the promise or the fulfilment of it confined to them alone. It was not made to apostles simply, but “them that believe,” and hence to Christians in general. Accordingly we find this miraculous power working in and by the Church for a hundred years after the Saviour’s ascension. It is still outstanding, firm, and good; and always must hold good, as long as the gospel is preached, and men are found to believe it. The lack is not to be sought in the absence of necessity, but in the weakness and the infirmity of our faith. There were places, when Christ was on earth, at which He did not many mighty works, because of the unbelief of the people. Want of faith will always restrain and grieve away the gracious power of God. And instead of reasoning these precious promises into a state of superannuation, let us rather conclude that the Church’s living confidence in her Lord has declined. Let us look for more, pray with more confidence, realise more thoroughly what our high calling is, and what an Almighty Saviour we have, and as God is true His promise will be verified now as well as in other ages.—J. A. Seiss, D.D.

Mark 16:15. What is Christian preaching?—Our Lord believed in the work of the preacher, not only as one of the chief methods of disseminating the gospel, but as the chief method. By Him it was never undervalued as something secondary. He “went about all Galilee teaching in their synagogues and preaching.” When He sent forth the apostles He said, “As ye go, preach.” After His Resurrection “they that were scattered abroad went everywhere preaching the Word.” And Paul rejoices that he “was ordained a preacher.”

I. Realising the importance of this office, as we turn to study the great Model we find ourselves at first discouraged, because that which impresses us most strongly is the dissimilarity between the discourses of Him who “spake as never man spake” and any which we may ever hope to produce.

1. We must study and frame our sentences beforehand, and many times sit down afterward and wonder that so great a truth could be so poorly told. The most striking element in Christ’s discourses is their marvellous spontaneity. His words were real lightning: they flashed. With us, and our perhaps necessary elaborate methods, they become too often only lightning on canvas—a streak of yellow paint. But even here, in this at first most discouraging attribute of our Lord’s preaching, we may find for ourselves an idea and an ideal. The ideal Christian discourse will be that which in manner and spirit as nearly as possible resembles Christ’s. With Him preaching was speaking. “He opened His mouth and spake.” We cannot do this as He did it; and if the perpetuation of the Christian religion had depended upon this kind of Christian preaching, it would have died with the death of the apostles and their immediate successors. If the inspiration which they received was not indeed different in kind from that which falls on us to-day, it was so infinitely different in degree that the result is the same in either case.
2. And yet there is one method by which in its effect we may approximate the manner of Christ’s preaching. And because of the difference between us and the apostles that method is exactly the opposite of that which He suggested to them. What they, fresh from immediate personal contact with the Christ, were to do by “taking no thought,” we can accomplish only by recognising in a very special sense the need of taking much thought. Thomas Guthrie began in Edinburgh a pastorate which lasted thirty years; and he determined from the beginning to preach extemporaneously, as Christ preached. But he realised that he had limitations which Christ and His apostles had not—that if he would accomplish this, it must be, not with less study than would be required for a written sermon, but more. He rose regularly at five in summer and six in winter, and for five days in the week devoted the first three hours of every morning to the preparation of his sermon. Thus for fifteen hours it was the single object of his thought. He wrote it and rewrote it, eliminating here and emphasising there, until when Sunday came he did not need to learn it; as our school-children say, “It had learned itself.” Unconsciously he had absorbed it, and by reading it over once or twice on the morning of its delivery he went into the pulpit surcharged. The ideas leaped to his lips without conscious effort, in almost or quite the very language in which he had thought and written them out, with all the polish of a scholar and all the spontaneity of a speaker. He preached like Christ; and that which happened eighteen hundred years ago happened again, as it always will under similar circumstances: “The common people heard him gladly.”

II. What was the substance of Jesus’ preaching?—

1. Our Lord’s sermons were doctrinal, if we remember that docere means to teach. When He speaks, He speaks as though something were settled; and that is dogma, truth crystallised. The very name of His followers was that of disciples, learners. He had something to teach. His discourses were not “guesses at truth.” There was nothing in them which would remind one of the debating society, where “everything is an open question.” “Do you know,” said the late Oliver Wendell Holmes, “I don’t like to listen to these everlasting negations that some ministers deal out from the pulpit.”

2. Christ’s preaching was pictorial: He knew how to teach it. That was probably an overstatement when some one said of Him that “our Lord never preached a sermon in which He did not tell a story, because it is written that ‘without a parable spake He not unto them.’ ” “But there is no doubt that His style of address was essentially Oriental. Neither is there any doubt that this was one of the chief reasons why the throngs hung so breathlessly upon His words. His eye swept all heaven and earth for metaphors and parables and similes. We may mark the perils to be met with here by noting how deftly He avoided them. He never fondled an illustration, as one does a pretty babe, to call attention to itself. His illustrations illustrated. They were suggestive, not exhaustive. With Him a metaphor was only “a window into an argument.” He never deliberately constructed ornamentation; but we must believe, with His sermons before us, that He did ornament construction. But even here we need a qualifying word. Though His teaching was illustrative, it was always teaching. His figures were not wax flowers, put on for adornment, simply adherent. They were inherent, they were the truth in blossom.
3. His preaching was persuasive: He knew why He taught it. There is no true Christian sermon ever preached which does not contain, directly or indirectly, this element of persuasion to a Christian life. It is this which differentiates it from other forms of literature, and makes it a Christian sermon. A drama is always pictorial, and sometimes instructive: a lyceum lecture is supposed to be both. But the distinctive mark of a Christian sermon is that it is a discourse aimed at the will, for the purpose of inducing or strengthening the Christian life. What Christ said of Himself was eminently true of His preaching: it was “a way” not stopping with itself, but leading farther on.
4. In His teaching He was spiritual: He addressed the inner life. He not only had something to teach, and knew how to teach it, and why He taught it; He knew likewise to whom He taught it. His appeal was ever to the spiritual yearning which in greater or less degree is to be found in every soul. “I don’t care whether it’s Briggsism or anti-Briggsism,” said a man at the close of a celebrated service in a New York church, as he ran up into the pulpit and grasped the hand of the clergyman; “but for God’s sake help me; for I am a ruined soul.” In every word He ever uttered Christ always had in mind that ruined soul, longing to be borne upward into an atmosphere of health. “I am come,” He said, “that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.”—G. T. Dowling, D.D.

Mark 16:17. The signs of faith.—When we remember such words as those which tell us that “he who believeth on the Son hath everlasting life, and he that believeth not on the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him,” how should it at once arrest our attention to hear, from the lips of Him who cannot deceive, an account of those very signs which shall mark out the possession of this invaluable gift!

I. We seem to be reading—we are evidently reading—of gifts and of powers which have long passed away from Christ’s Church: gifts and powers which never infallibly pointed out the true members of His spiritual body—for some had these who had little, if any, experience of the inward graces of Christ’s Spirit—and which now, at all events, do not survive, to make any distinction, real or apparent, amongst the multitude of His professed disciples. It was one great object of Christ’s revelation to draw up the veil which separated between the material and the spiritual, and to disclose to the eyes of men those great but unseen realities in the very midst of which they were blindly and unconsciously dwelling. This unseen world was of a twofold character. There was the world of God, and the world of the devil—the world of Divine agency, and the world of antagonist evil. With both of these every man upon earth was deeply concerned; and yet the nature, the very existence, of either could only be made known to him for certain by disclosures from God. Thus, on the one hand, the devil was permitted in that generation to manifest his operation upon men’s souls by visible tokens of his presence in their bodies. On the other hand, that generation was blessed also with equally palpable proofs of the operation of God’s Spirit. He enabled the tongue to utter languages which the understanding in many cases could not interpret; He made the word of a man powerful to heal diseases which had defied all the skill of physicians—to cast out from the convulsed and distorted body those evil spirits which had usurped it for their abode. But these visible and sensible proofs of the presence of God’s Spirit were never designed, we may venture to say, to remain with the Church of Christ. The signs which were to follow them that believed—if in the first instance they were of a mixed character, partly gifts and partly graces, partly outward powers and partly spiritual virtues—were designed to become ere long wholly of the latter kind: the only powers with which Christ’s people were ultimately to be endued in this life were such as are inseparable from the graces of love and knowledge and holiness—from the insensible but resistless influence of one who is proved by his life and spirit to have God with him and in him of a truth.

II. Every one of these signs has a corresponding token in times when miracles are no more.—Let us view by the light of other words of God each of the four particulars here enumerated in its application to our own days.

1. If Christ stood now in the midst of us and said, “These signs shall follow those amongst you that believe: in My name shall they cast out devils,” should we not at once understand Him to declare, that, whatever be the peculiar sins to which we are most often and powerfully tempted, whatever the snares by which the great enemy most easily prevails over us, in His name we must overcome them?—-that, knowing as we all do our weaknesses, our faults, our past sinful acts, our present foolish and hurtful desires; knowing whether it be in the form of passion, or of selfishness, or of sensuality, or of sloth, that sin has most power over us; knowing by experience that in some one or in all of these forms it has great power over us, and recognising, as Christ teaches us to do, in all these things indications of his presence and his agency who like a roaring lion is ever going about seeking whom he may devour, we must cast him out in His name and strength?—that, If we really believe, we shall do so; that if we do it not, it is because we have no faith and therefore no life in us?
2. “They shall speak with new tongues.” The miraculous power which fulfilled this prediction has long passed away. But what was the miraculous gift of tongues—glorious as it was, and most convincing as an argument of the Divine origin of the gospel—when viewed in comparison with that grace which was so aptly signified by its exercise, and for so many ages has survived its withdrawal? If he who has hitherto found no response within, when he would fain have summoned his heart to awake and utter praise—who has knelt on his knees to pray, and found his very prayers dried up at their inmost source by the withering power of long indifference or unbelief—is now able to realise God’s being, to trust in Christ’s mediation, to enter in through that door into the heavenly courts of the Lord, to present there with a full heart his daily offering of confession and prayer and thanksgiving, to believe that he is heard, and to receive according to his need the supply of life and strength and comfort,—what is this but the gift of a new tongue, a sign which follows them that believe, and betokens an heir of salvation?
3. “They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them.” In other words, this is one of the signs which attend Christ’s servants, that what is perilous to others is safe to them, that that is health to them which to others is but an occasion of falling. They live in an ensnaring world. Their own hearts are weak and treacherous. Their occupations in life are often perilous to the well-being of their souls. They hear evil maxims often avowed, corrupting principles more often insinuated. Their own duty sometimes requires them to read or to hear that of which they had been happy to have remained ignorant. Some friend, whom nature or choice had endeared to them most closely, seeks by argument or persuasion or ridicule to shake their steadfastness, and by his own example encourages them to sin. But what then? Greater is He that is in them than he that is in the world. To the pure all things are pure. The tempest which overthrows others but roots them more firmly.
4. “They shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.” We have dwelt upon other signs of true faith: how it shews itself in fighting against our own sins—in bridling the tongue, and yet loosing it—in giving safety amidst danger, and stability amidst general defection. And now we are taught to remember how the same principle tends to make us useful in the world—useful in our own world, whatever that be, whether the world of youth or the world of men; how it enables us to help the weak, to warn the sinful, to comfort the weak-hearted, to establish the wavering, to bring back the wandering; how the consistent maintenance, in word and conduct, of that spirit of faith in Christ of which we are speaking, will, by God’s blessing, often without a word of direct exhortation, act upon others with a powerful influence, silently reproving, teaching, guiding, supporting our brethren, even when we are least conscious of any eye being upon us.—Dean Vaughan.

OUTLINES AND COMMENTS ON THE VERSES

Mark 16:9. Christ’s appearance to Mary of Magdala.—St. Mark reminds us that Mary had once been possessed by seven devils; and whatever else and more be included in demoniacal possession, we know that it must have perilously weakened brain and nerve. Is it not obvious, then, that, as we might have expected of Him, Jesus appeared first to Mary because she was in the most desperate need of Him? Wandering about the garden like one distraught, blinded with her tears, possessed with one idea—so possessed that even the angelic vision seems to have had no awe for her, and she fails to recognise the Lord she loved, till in familiar tones He cries, “Mary”—who does not see the extreme danger her susceptible and excitable nature was in? Insanity was not far off when she flung herself upon Him with the cry, “My Master,” and would have clasped His feet. How wholesome for her too and calming to have a commission confided to her, to be made useful, to be sent to the disciples with the message, “I ascend unto My Father and your Father, to My God and your God!”—S. Cox, D.D.

“First to Mary Magdalene.”—To reconcile this representation with Matthew’s (Matthew 28:9), we must suppose—what is perfectly natural—that there was a variety of runnings to and fro. We may conceive the case in some such way as the following—without, however, imagining that it embodies the absolute historic truth: When the group of women saw the open tomb and the angels, Mary may instantly, in a kind of ecstatic bewilderment, have turned on her heels to run and carry word of the fact to the apostles. By-and-by the other women would follow. Ere long Peter and John would come running, and then return. Mary for a little season was alone, near the sepulchre, and Jesus revealed Himself to her. By-and-by the other women rejoined her, and Jesus appeared to them all, as they were on their way to the apostles. There would be in all their bosoms not only interest, strung to the highest pitch, but ecstasy, and trepidation, and an impossibility of resting anywhere longer than a few moments at a time. See Greswell’s Forty-third Dissertation.—J. Morison, D.D.

Mark 16:12. Another form.—By “another form” St. Mark seems to mean a different form to that in which Christ appeared to Mary, but may, and probably does, mean nothing more than a form other than that with which they had been familiar in the days of His humiliation—“a spiritual body,” and no longer “a natural body.” This conjecture is confirmed by the word rendered manifested, a different word to that rendered “appeared” in Mark 16:9. It implies that in His new form He was not necessarily visible, though He could render Himself visible where and to whom He would.—S. Cox, D.D.

Mark 16:13. The unbelief of the apostles.—” Neither believed they them.” The original is stronger: but not even them did they believe. And yet it is said in Luke 24:33, that when they got into the midst of “the eleven and them that were with them,” they were met with the exclamation, “The Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon.” This apparent contrariety demolishes at a stroke the theory of Hitzig, who supposes that Luke is the author of Mark 16:9. It also completely overturns the theory of those who imagine that the section, though not composed by Luke, was, by the hand of some other one, culled out of Luke. But there is no real contradiction nevertheless. The disciples of our Lord were in the midst of the inconsistencies of a tumultuating and transition state of mind. All their hopes had been suddenly dashed. They had been utterly disappointed. And yet they could not bring themselves to believe that their late Beloved Lord had been an impostor. Had He not been uniformly and perfectly pure? Had He not been almost infinitely unselfish and noble? It could not be that He was a deceiver. And yet the unchallengeable fact stared them in the face, that, instead of throwing off His disguise and assuming His royal prerogatives, as they had anticipated, He had been seized, tried, condemned, and crucified like a slave! What could they make of the case? Mary Magdalene and other women had told them that the sepulchre was found by them open and illumined by the presence of angels. Peter and John had run to it, and found the report of the women true, in its main element at least. Then Mary had told them that the Lord actually appeared to her. They could not for a moment doubt her sincerity. But surely her imagination must have imposed on her! By-and-by, however, the Lord appeared to Peter also, and he reported the fact to his brethren. His testimony had weight; and they received it with raptures (Luke 24:34). And yet after a little, and because of the very preciousness of their new-born hope, they begin to be inquisitive and critical in reference in its foundation. What if Peter himself had been overmastered by his imagination? What if, under the influence of his sanguine nature, and with that haste which has been all along his besetting failing, he had mistaken a mere subjective vision for an objective fact? Then perhaps the assembled brethren would question Peter, and cross-question him, going into the varied details of the appearance, until, it may be, Peter’s own faith began to waver. When once in the full flow of this doubting mood, they would be ready enough to set aside the testimony of the two comparatively humble brethren who had returned from the country. They would say, “No doubt the brethren are honest. But surely it cannot be true that He who actually on the Cross gave up the ghost, and was then buried, is now literally alive again! How could such a thing be? Must not the brethren and Peter himself, as well as Mary, be the dupes of their fond imaginations?” Such would naturally be the state of the disciples’ minds for a considerable length of time—the tide of thought and feeling surging and resurging in contrary directions. And hence the facile conciliation of Mark’s statement with Luke’s.—J. Morison, D.D.

Mark 16:15. Christ’s commission.—

I. What is implied in preaching the gospel?—

1. It means to spread the good news.
2. To make known that revelation which God has given of Himself.
3. To exhibit the privilege the gospel offers.
4. To declare the precepts the gospel enjoins.

II. To whom the office is committed.—

1. It was not confined to the apostles.
2. The preacher must have a deep and a living sense of the importance of Divine truth.
3. The preacher must have good sense and a power of argument.
4. A spiritual and experimental knowledge of the gospel.
5. A particular call by the grace of God.
6. A fervent love to the Lord Jesus, and an earnest desire to advance His honour and interest.
7. An intense desire for the salvation of souls.
8. A willingness to endure hardship and persecution in the work on which he is engaged.

III. Where and to whom is the message to be preached?—Every rational being of the race of Adam is to receive this important message, for all have sinned and come short of the kingdom of God.

1. None are excluded by the decree of God. He is loving to all men.
2. None are excluded by natural or moral incapacity. They are not too weak, ignorant, or depraved to obey the precepts of the gospel.

IV. The condition required from those who hear.—Faith is required in order to have salvation, for the gospel is—

1. A revelation of truths, and implies a persuasion of their certainty and importance.
2. An offer of privileges, and implies that we accept that offer in the way God has appointed.
3. A promulgation of laws, and implies that we acknowledge the authority of the Lawgiver.—Preacher’s Analyst.

Gospel responsibility.—It was the saying of a great missionary preacher, “We shall soon have done with the gospel, but the gospel will not soon have done with us.”

Mark 16:16. Belief and baptism.—By joining “believing “and “being baptised,” as both necessary to salvation, did the Lord mean to put on an equality the highest action of the soul in embracing the truth of God and of Christ and the reception of an outward rite? Certainly not. For He did not consider that the baptism which He ordained was an outward rite. It is, according to His own words, a new birth of water and the Spirit into His kingdom. According to the teaching of St. Paul, it is a death and burial with Him to sin, and a rising again with Him to newness of life (Romans 6:1), so that the baptised man must, no matter what the difficulty, count himself to be in a new state, born anew into the Second Adam, grafted into the True Vine, endued with a new life from Christ, and gifted, if he will faithfully strive to use them, with new powers against sin and on the side of holiness of life. It was the Lord’s intention, by His death and resurrection, not only to deliver men from sin as individuals, but to incorporate them into His mystical body, i.e. His Holy Catholic Church, so that in the unity of that Church, in the unity of its faith, its hope, its charity, they might grow up, not singly, but together, in the fellowship of the One Body. And so the reception of His baptism being the outward sign of this, and the means for bringing it to each one, was worthy to be put side by side with believing.—M. F. Sadler.

Words applicable to nations.—Whatever unbelievers think about individual souls, it is plain that these words have proved true for communities and nations. He that believeth and is baptised has been saved; he that believeth not has been condemned. The nation and kingdom that has not served Christ has perished.—Dean Chadwick.

Nominal Christianity insufficient.—Let a man (I speak of the generality of men) be asked upon what he builds his hopes of salvation. He will reply: “I am a Christian. I was born in a Christian land, of Christian parents, and baptised in the name of Christ, and therefore I am a Christian.” It is well for him that he has been blessed with such advantages. But has he improved them as they might have been improved? The words of Christ are not, “He that is baptised shall be saved”; but, “He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved.” The name of a Christian will, of itself, do nothing for us; it will only be an aggravation of our guilt, if we be found without a Christian heart, without a Christian faith, without a Christian practice. But perhaps he will say: “I am something more than a nominal professor of the gospel. I am constant in my attendance at the house of God, and regular in the observance of the Holy Communion.” But let him be asked again: Is the heart in all this? Is it done solely and wholly to please God? Is it done with seriousness, earnestness, and sincerity? Or is this outward shew of religion the result of habit, put on in conformity with the custom of the world, or to deceive and gain the favour of mankind? Does he enter the holy sanctuary with the full determination that, when he has been taught his duty, he will perform the same? Does he, as he kneels at the holy table, “acknowledge and bewail his manifold sins and wickedness,” and, “intending to lead a new life,” pray for strength and grace to that God with whom alone dwelleth the power to bring him unto happiness? Does he “commune with his own heart” in public and in private, at all times and seasons, to discover whether he be wandering from the right way, from his duty, his religion, and his God, and with the purpose to correct what he finds to be wrong, and to improve what is deficient? The man who can answer these questions to the satisfaction of his conscience and his God will “be accepted with Him”; but too many, it is to be feared, are very far removed from such an advanced state of spiritual excellence.—H. Marriott.

“Shall be damned.”—“God is too good to damn anybody.” Quite right. God does not damn anybody; but many damn themselves. Damnation is sin and suffering producing and perpetuating each other. Look at the low dens with their diseased, poisoned, putrescent inmates, their depravity, their profligacy, their brutality, their bodily torture, their mental anguish. Is not that damnation?—sin and suffering acting and reacting. Hell is that same thing projected into the soul’s future. God does not damn men. He moves heaven and earth to prevent it. The Crucifixion was God’s supreme effort to keep men from hell. How unreasonable to charge God with your death! Suppose I went, sick and suffering, through the stormy night to hold a light for you at some dizzy chasm; suppose you struck down the light which I had brought with so much pains; suppose you lost your foothold and fell into the abyss below: could I be charged with your death? Well, then, did not God bring you light? Did He not with scarred hand hold that light over your pathway? If you reject it and fall, can you charge Him with your death? No; oh no! “This is the condemnation, that light came into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light.”—R. S. Barrett.

Mark 16:17. “These signs.”—The Holy Church doth spiritually every day what she then did through the apostles corporally. For when the priests, by the grace of exorcism, lay hands on believers, and forbid evil spirits to inhabit their minds, what do they but cast out devils? And any believers whatever, who henceforth abandon the secular words of the old life, and utter holy mysteries, and rehearse as best they can the praise and power of their Maker, what do they but speak with new tongues? Moreover, while by their good exhortations they remove evil from the hearts of others, they are taking up serpents: which miracles are greater, because they are the more spiritual; the greater, because they are the means of raising not bodies, but souls. These signs then, dearest brethren, ye do, if ye will (Psalms 91:13; John 14:12; 1 Corinthians 13).—Gregory.

Mark 16:17. The promise of power.—This promise, observe, is contingent upon faith; and it is a promise of power over spiritual foes and over natural disqualifications.

1. Over spiritual foes, so that even demons shall be subject unto us. 0 Christian worker, therefore abandon not the hardest case.
2. Over natural disqualifications. The timid, shrinking Peter shall speak with boldness before three thousand men; and John, the hasty Boanerges, shall become the apostle of gentleness and love.—E. A. Stuart.

Mark 16:18. Safety amid danger.—The Master promises to His disciples, on the condition of their faith in Him, perfect safety amidst the dangers of the work, so that what is harmful to others shall not hurt them. And this safety will consist not in the avoidance of evil, for the Master knew they would still be in the world, and that temptations would be round about them on every side. Therefore He does not promise immunity from danger, but immunity from harm. Yet this also, of course, only in the pathway of obedience. We may not throw ourselves from the pinnacle of the Temple, and expect His angels to bear us up in their preserving hands, for we may not tempt the Lord our God; but right sure we are that no harm can happen unto us if we be followers of that which is good—that He doth give His angels charge over us to keep us in all His ways—that upon the highway of the Lord no lion shall be there. And is it not so? Take, for instance, sceptical books; and can you take up a more deadly serpent, or drink a more poisonous cup? If you take it up simply from curiosity, or because the book is popular, and you covet the reputation of being liberal-minded or up with the times, even if you retain your faith, the poison of that book will oftentimes sting you in years to come. But if you read that book because it is your duty, because you wish to expose its fallacy to some young heart who is being led astray thereby, then you may take up the serpent or drink the deadly thing, and it shall not hurt you. And so it is all through. This man enters into politics strong in faith and in his desire to serve both God and man, and therefore walks erect amidst the pitfalls of public life, into which that poor miserable wretch, so selfishly ambitious, most miserably falls. This tradesman preserves his character unspotted and unsullied because he is a man of God, when yonder huckster’s conscience is seared day by day by the tricks of trade, until he grows so callous that evil ceases to cause pain.—E. A. Stuart.

The promise of usefulness.—“They shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.” Yes, the blessing shall not end with yourself; others shall live by your side. You will only be helpful when you yourself are safe, and you will only be safe when you are helpful. Bring yourself into contact with those who are sick and sorrowing, and you will know the exquisite delight of doing good. But we must “lay hands” upon them, come close to them, bring our personality into touch with them. You can never do good if you stand at a distance from your fellow-men. The Risen Jesus has left you in this world as His representative, to heal the sorrows of the world, and works through you in conferring blessings upon the outcast and the sad.—Ibid.

Christian treatment of the sick.—In nothing has the spirit of Christianity been more apparent than in the treatment of the sick. The latest discoveries of medical science are, in our great hospitals and infirmaries, immediately on their discovery, applied to the benefit of the poorest and meanest who have been taken to these places.—M. F. Sadler.

APPENDIX

[For this interesting review of the evidence for and against the Last Twelve Verses of St. Mark, I am indebted to my friend the Rev. F. W. Christie, M.A., Rector of St Mary’s. Aberdeen.]

NOTE ON ST. Mark 16:9

THE great majority of modern scholars are agreed that with the eighth verse of this chapter the genuine work of St. Mark comes abruptly to an end, and that the twelve verses which follow are an addition by another hand in the earliest sub-apostolic age. Westcott and Hort insert these verses within double brackets, as an interpolation, “probably Western in origin, containing important matter apparently derived from extraneous sources”;[1] and Lightfoot ascribes them, together with the account of the woman taken in adultery (John 7:53 to John 8:11), “to that knot of early disciples who gathered about St. John in Asia Minor, and must have preserved more than one true tradition of the Lord’s life and of the earliest days of the Church, of which some at least had themselves been eye-witnesses.”[2] And so most scholars. On the other hand, such eminent critics as Dr. Scrivener, Dean Burgon, Prof. Salmon, Bishop John Wordsworth, and others, maintain, on grounds of external and internal evidence, that these verses are the genuine work of St. Mark. Dean Burgon’s elaborate monograph (The Last Twelve Verses of the Gospel according to St. Mark vindicated: Oxford, 1871) won the admiration of Lagarde,[3] and is acknowledged to have proved “that the external evidence against the passage has been greatly overstated … and that the patristic evidence resolves itself into that (perhaps ultimately of Origen, but immediately) of Eusebius.”[4] Without presuming to settle so difficult a controversy, it will be useful to review the evidence on which the decision depends.

[1] New Test., smaller edition, p. 583.

[2] On Revision of N. T.

[3] Expositor, September 1894, p. 226.

[4] W. H. Simcox, Writers of N. T., p. 11.

External evidence.—The verses are wanting in the two oldest MSS., the great uncial Bibles of the fourth century, Codex Vaticanus (B) and Sinaiticus (א). Tischendorf has, however, pointed out that these MSS. are here not independent witnesses, as in א the last leaf of St. Mark has been written by the scribe of B.[5] In B there is a blank column—the only one in the whole MS.—after Mark 16:8; and in א the letters of the last page of St. Mark, which might easily have been written in one column, are spread out so as to carry over a few lines to the second column, as if to avoid leaving it quite blank. Dr. Salmon infers from these facts that both MSS. had, as first copied, contained the disputed verses, and that the leaves were then cancelled and rewritten by the original scribe of B. The scribe was evidently aware of the twelve verses, and rejected them. Eusebius (Bishop of Cæsarea 315 A. D., died 340 A. D.) says of these verses:[6] “He that rejects Mark’s section as spurious will say that it is not current in all the copies. The accurate copies at least end with ‘afraid.’ For this is the end in nearly all the copies.” Eusebius himself, the great critic of that century, seems to have rejected this section, for the so-called Eusebian Canons were not carried beyond Mark 16:8. The words of Eusebius just quoted are almost verbally repeated by Jerome (circ. 400 A. D.),[7] Hesychius of Jerusalem (circ. 400 A. D.), and Severus of Antioch (circ. 500 A. D.). Doubts about the genuineness of this section were therefore familiar to them. The evidence of the important Armenian Version made in the fifth century is specially interesting. All MSS. prior to 1100 A. D. omit the verses. Later MSS. containing them have “Here ends Mark’s Gospel” after “afraid,” and then after a pause continue with Mark 16:9. There is, however, one old MS. in the Patriarchal Library at Etchmiadzin which not only gives the verses, but seems to throw light upon their origin. This MS. was examined by Mr. F. C. Conybeare in 1891, and in the Expositor for October 1893 he describes it and gives his conclusions. The MS. is an Evangeliarium written about 986 A. D., and purporting to have been copied from a true and accurate Armenian exemplar. St. Mark is written out to Mark 16:8. Then there is a space of two lines, after which in the same uncial hand, only in red—a distinction otherwise reserved for the titles of the four Gospels themselves—is written “Ariston Eritzou,” which means “Of the Presbyter Ariston.” This title occupies one whole line (the book is written in double columns), and then follow the last twelve verses, still in the same hand. This discovery of Mr, Conybeare’s is an important one. The heading no doubt embodies a very ancient tradition, and may meet with-verification elsewhere. Mr. Conybeare identifies this Ariston the Presbyter with the Ariston mentioned by Papias (Euseb., Hist. Eccl., iii. 39) as one of the elders who were disciples of the Lord. Dr. Resch[8] thinks he was Ariston of Pella, a Jewish Christian who wrote about 140 A. D., and who—Dr. Resch thinks after this discovery—also arranged the Canon of the Gospels. There are also MSS. which exhibit a duplicate ending. The uncial Codex L, eighth century, in the National Library at Paris, noted for its frequent agreement with א and B, breaks off after Mark 16:8, and then continues:[9] “The following also is current: ‘And they briefly brought word of all the things that were commanded them to Peter and his company: but after these things Jesus Himself also sent forth by them from the east even unto the west the holy and incorruptible preaching of the eternal salvation.’ But then is also current the following after ‘for they were afraid,’ ‘But when He was risen again,’ etc.” The same duplicate ending is also found in a fifth-century MS. of the old Latin, the Codex Bobiensis. The alternative ending is added in the margin of the Harklean Syriac (616 A. D.), and is found in various MSS. of the Memphitic and Æthiopic versions. In the recently discovered Sinai Palimpsest of the Old Syriac, allied to the Curetonian, the text of St. Mark ends with Mark 16:8, as in א, B (see Guardian, October 31st, 1894). On the other hand, the twelve verses are found in the other two great uncial MSS., the Codex Bezæ (D) and the Codex Ephremi (C), both of the fifth century; in all the other uncial MSS.; in MSS. of the old Latin (including the important Codex Colbertinus); in the Vulgate; in three Syriac versions (Curetonian, Peschito, Jerusalem); in the Gothic and various Memphitic and Æthiopic MSS. Irenœus (circ. 185 A. D.) quotes Mark 16:19 as St. Mark’s (Adv. Hœr., III. x. 6). Justin Martyr[10] seems to cite these verses; but “decision seems impossible.”[11] They are found in Tatian’s Diatessaron (160–170 A. D.). Victor of Antioch (400–450 A. D.) wrote a commentary on St. Mark which had a wide repute (see list of MSS, in Burgon). The last words of his commentary are these: “Notwithstanding that in very many copies of the present Gospel the passage beginning, ‘Now when [Jesus] was risen early the first day of the week,’ be not found (certain individuals having supposed it to be spurious), yet we at all events, inasmuch as in very many we have discovered it to exist, have out of accurate copies subjoined also the account of the Lord’s ascension (following the words ‘for they were afraid’) in conformity with the Palæstinian exemplar of Mark which exhibits the Gospel verity: that is to say, from the words ‘Now when [Jesus] was risen early the first day of the week,’ etc., down to ‘with signs following. Amen.’ ”

[5] Salmon, Introd. to N. T., p. 161.

[6] Quœst. ad Marinum, iv. 957, ed. Migne.

[7] Ep. 120, ad Hedibiam.

[8] See Thinker, October 1894, pp. 291, 292.

[9] McClellan, New Test., p. 681

[10] See Dr. Taylor’s article, Expositor, July 1893.

[11] Westcott and Hort.

Internal evidence.—Against the genuineness it is urged:

1. There is a want of connexion between this section and the foregoing. St. Mark would never have written consecutively ἐφοβοῦντο γάρ. Ἀναστὰς δὲ πρωΐ, κ.τ.λ. Also Mary Magdalene is introduced in Mark 16:9 as if she had not been mentioned before in Mark 16:1.

2. The usual relation between St. Mark and St. Matthew fails in this section. Mark 16:1 is parallel with Matthew 28:1, but there the connexion ceases. From Mark 8:7 we might have expected a mention in the sequel of this appearance in Galilee, such as we find in St. Matthew. The twelve verses contain no mention of it, and must therefore be from another hand.

3. The diction is unlike St. Mark’s, πρώτῃ σαββάτου) is unique; in Mark 16:2 Mark had written the usual μιᾷ τῶν σαββάτων (cp. Genesis 1:5, R.V.). ἐκεῖνος is never used elsewhere in St. Mark without a substantive; here it occurs four times without a substantive. θανάσιμος, μορφή, θεᾶσθαι, βλάπτειν, πορεύεσθαι, ἀπιστεῖν, παρακολουθεῖν, ἐπακολουθεῖν, do not occur before in this Gospel. On the other hand, arguments for the genuineness of these verses based on internal evidence are not wanting. Dr. Salmon traces in the first fifteen verses of this Gospel a resemblance in style to the last twelve. These opening and closing sections are, he thinks, the framework in which St. Mark set the Petrine tradition. He also finds the characteristic ideas of the Gospel in these verses. Thrice does St. Mark alone of the Synoptics record the unbelief of men (Mark 3:5, Mark 6:6; Mark 6:52), and thrice in this last section (Mark 16:11; Mark 16:13) does this thought appear. Westcott also notices this correspondence (Introduction to Study of Gospels, p. 334). But nowhere has it been stated so fully as in a university sermon of the present Bishop of Salisbury.[12] St. Mark, he thinks, depicts Christ as the strong Son of God, Lord of spirits and men and nature, contending with and overcoming evil and unbelief. Hence miracles occupy so large a space in this Gospel. Especially does St. Mark dwell on the moral resistance offered to Christ by the hardness of the human heart. These being the general lessons of this Gospel, the last chapter fits on to the rest with a perfect and exact harmony. “What do we read, in fact, in the last chapter? It describes with greater fulness than any of the other Gospels, how hopeless and weak in faith the community of disciples was left by the Crucifixion,—how slow of perception and hard of heart they still remained, notwithstanding all that had been done for them,—how the women, going to anoint the body, found the tomb empty, and fled in trembling and astonishment and fear at the angel’s message,—how the disciples disbelieved Mary Magdalene, to whom the Risen Jesus first appeared,—how the two who met Him in another form, as they were going into the country, failed to convince the rest,—how, at last, He appeared to all Himself, and upbraided them with their unbelief and hardness of heart; and then, finally, and after a long and gradual process, gained a conquest over their wills. Then it was that He addressed them, bidding them to go and preach the gospel to the whole creation, offering salvation to those that believe and are baptised, foretelling the condemnation of those who reject the message, and promising fourfold miraculous powers, like His own, to His faithful followers and messengers. Then, and not till then, when He reveals His full majesty by the transfer of these gifts, does He receive the title of ‘Lord’ from the Evangelist’s own lips. The word, though found not unfrequently in the reports of speeches in this Gospel, is used twice only in it as an historical title, and that in these last two verses. The Lord, it is said, after He had spoken with them, was received up to heaven, and sat on the right hand of God. And they, thus conquered by Him, are no longer faithless, but believing. Having gained them, He has gained the instrument which He came down to earth to fashion, the only instrument which in His wisdom He thinks fit to use in the conversion of the world—the instrument of personal faith begetting faith. And thus endowed they go forth and preach everywhere, not in their own strength, but His; for the Lord works ever with them. And as in His own ministry He has supported and illustrated His teaching with appropriate miracles and mighty works, so now He confirms their word with signs following.”

[12] Sermon II. in University Sermons on Gospel Subjects: Parker, 1878. See also Addendum by same author to commentary on St. Mark, in Bishop Chr. Wordsworth’s Greek Testament.

Whatever we may infer from the internal evidence as to the genuineness of these verses, one conclusion is forced upon us. These verses are certainly authentic. They have the ring of truth. “This section,” says Dr. Resch,[13] “is free from all affectation, and from all legendary colouring—such as, for example, we meet with in the pseudo-Petrine Gospel. It is rather characterised by a compendious abruptness, such as shews that the author of it says less than he knows.” Compare the vague generalities of the alternative ending with the fulness of independent knowledge shewn in these verses. Although the statements that the first appearance was to Mary Magdalene and that she bore the message to the apostles might conceivably be derived from St. John’s Gospel, and Mark 16:9; Mark 16:12 seem to reflect expressions in St. Luke (Luke 8:2; Luke 24:13), yet the section taken as a whole is plainly not the work of a compiler. It adds to our knowledge by explicit statement and vivid detail. Here only in the Gospels is it stated that our Lord rose again on the first day of the week (Mark 16:9); that the disciples mourned and wept (Mark 16:10); that they disbelieved the tidings of Mary Magdalene (Mark 16:11); that He appeared to the two in another form (Mark 16:12); that the disciples again disbelieved the testimony of the two (Mark 16:13); that the eleven were at meat when He appeared (observe the undesigned coincidence with Luke 24:41); and that He upbraided them (Mark 16:14). The apostolic commission in Mark 16:15, though resembling that in Matthew 28:19 in the two points universal mission and the injunction of baptism, is evidently independent. The promise of signs to follow believers as such is a new one. (cp. Matthew 10:8). And the majestic closing verses (19 and 20) stand alone in the Gospels in their assertion of the Lord’s sitting at the right hand of God and His continued working with the apostles.

[13] Expositor, September 1894, p. 228.

Concluding summary.—After this review of the evidence, external and internal, it may be said by way of summary, that if these verses be from St. Mark’s pen and formed part of his Gospel from the first, it seems very difficult to account for the multiplication of copies without these verses in widely separate lands, for the obstinate doubts which clung to them (which Eusebius states and Jerome repeats), for the existence of an alternative ending, and lastly for the tradition which ascribes the twelve verses to the presbyter Ariston. To account for all that by an imagined accident which may have torn away from some MS. its last leaf, on which just these twelve verses were written, and so gave rise to a mutilated family of MSS., is to assign a very inadequate cause. But on the assumption, to which so much of the evidence points, that these verses are an appendage by another though still authoritative hand, in the earliest times, all the phenomena may be explained. St. Mark for some reason left his Gospel unfinished.[14] It may have been, as Godet thinks,[15] the breaking out of persecution and the death of St. Peter which caused the interruption. It was no wonder then that some early disciple should, it may be by request, complete the unfinished narrative with an account of the Ascension; so that this Gospel, as it began “from the baptism of John,” should extend to the “day that He was taken up,” and thus correspond to the requirement of the chief of the apostles (Acts 1:22).

[14] ἐφοβοῦντο γάρ might very well be the end of a sentence or paragraph. Cp. Plato Protagoras, p. 328, D, where a chapter ends with νέοι γάρ But Plato did not end a Dialogue with a particle, nor would St. Mark end his Gospel with one. The reference to Plato is due to Prof. Marcus Dods in Expository Times, March 1894.

[15] Studies on N. T., p. 38.

ILLUSTRATIONS TO CHAPTER 16

Mark 16:14. Unbelief unreasonable.—To one who affected to question the received account of the death of Julius Cæsar we should not say “You want faith,” but “You want sense.”—Isaac Taylor.

Mark 16:15. How to preach.—A wise clergyman, now deceased, once said he had learned to preach not only so that people could understand him if they had a mind to, but also that they could not misunderstand him if they wanted to. A hint here to all called upon to make statements with pen or lips.

The preservation of the gospel.—The monks of Lindisfarne set sail for Ireland with the book of the Gospels; a storm arose; the book fell overboard and was lost: they were driven back to the English coast. Disconsolate, they went in quest of the precious volume: for a long time they searched in vain, but at length (so says the story) a miraculous revelation was vouchsafed to them, and, following its directions, they found the book on the sand, far above highwater mark, uninjured by the waves, nay, even more beautiful for the disaster. Does not this story well symbolise the power of the gospel working on the Church? Through the carelessness of man it may disappear amidst the confusion of the storm, the waves may close over it and hide it from human sight, but lost—lost for ever—it cannot be.—Bishop Lightfoot.

Preaching Christ everywhere.—Dr. Boaz, of Calcutta, tells in his journal of the following incident, which happened to him and a fellow-missionary at the great fair on Saugor Island, whither they had come to preach to the assembled multitudes. While they were speaking, “a respectable-looking man, in evident astonishment,” came upon the scene, and exclaimed: “What, are you here also? When I am in the north of Calcutta, there I am sure to meet you, and hear you speaking about Jesus Christ. When business takes me to the south of the city, there you are again, telling the people about the same Jesus Christ; and if I go to a distant village, I am sure to hear the same story; and here, in the midst of the very jungles, I hear the name of Christ. What is all this? You seem to be everywhere, and always talking about the same thing. Who would have thought to hear anything about Jesus Christ in such a dreary spot as this?”

The true preacher a Divine creation.—Speaking of art-training, Mr. Ruskin says: “Until a man has passed through a course of academy studentship, and can draw in an improved manner with French chalk, and knows fore-shortening, and perspective, and something of anatomy, we do not think he can possibly be an artist. What is worse, we are very apt to think that we can make him an artist by teaching him anatomy, and how to draw with French chalk, whereas the real gift in him is utterly independent of all such accomplishments.” So the highest powers of the teacher or preacher, the power of interpreting the Scriptures with spiritual insight, of moving the hearers to earnest worship and decision, may exist with or without the culture of the schools. Learned Pharisees are impotent failures compared with a rough fisherman Peter anointed with the Holy Ghost. Inspiration is more than education.

Missionary zeal.—Raymond Lully, or Lullius, to whom the Arabic professorship at Oxford owes its origin, was the first Christian missionary to the Moslems. When shipwrecked near Pisa, after many years of missionary labour, though upwards of seventy, his ardour was unabated. “Once,” he wrote, “I was fairly rich; once I had a wife and children; once I tasted freely of the pleasures of this life. But all these things I gladly resigned that I might spread abroad a knowledge of the truth. I studied Arabic, and several times went forth to preach the gospel to the Saracens. I have been in prisons; I have been scourged; for years I have striven to persuade the princes of Christendom to befriend the common cause of converting the Mohammedans. Now, though old and poor, I do not despair; I am ready, if it be God’s will, to persevere unto death.” And he died so, being stoned to death at Bugia, in Africa, in 1314, after gathering a little flock of converts.

Missionary enthusiasm.—In the first centuries every Christian looked on it as a part of his life to be God’s missionary, and for centuries the Church produced men like Boniface and Columban. Then for a thousand years the darkness was only broken here and there by a man like St. Louis of France or St. Francis of Assisi. It is to Count Zinzendorf and the Moravians that we owe the revival of missionary zeal. In the last century missionaries were regarded as foolish and rash, and I know not what. When Carey proposed to go as a missionary to India, he was told that if God wished to convert the heathen He would doubtless do so in His own way. Think of John Eliot, the lion-hearted “apostle of the Indians,” and his motto that prayer and painstaking can accomplish everything. Think of young and sickly David Brainerd going alone into the wild forests of America and among their wilder denizens, with the words, “Not from necessity but from choice, for it seems to me that God’s dealings towards me have fitted me for a life of solitariness and hardship.” Think of Adoniram Judson and the tortures he bore so cheerfully in his Burmese prison. And we, too, in these days have seen Charles Mackenzie leave the comforts of Cambridge to die amid the pestilent swamps of the Zambesi, and Coleridge Patteson, floating, with his palm branch of victory in his hand, over the blue sea among the Coral Isles. Nor do I know any signs more hopeful for the nation than these, that our public schools are now founding missions in the neglected wastes of London, and our young athletes are going out as poor men to labour in China and Hindostan.—Dean Farrar.

Christ wants to get the gospel into every home in the world; and the way He wants to do this is through the hearts and hands of those whom He has already saved. If we do not carry the good news, the lost will not receive it at all. It is told of a boy who was converted that at once he started. to walk—for he was poor and could not afford to go by train—away to a place more than a thousand miles from his home, to tell his brother about Christ. History relates that the early Christians, many of them, were so eager to carry the gospel everywhere, that they even hired themselves out as servants or sold themselves as slaves, that they might be admitted into the homes of the rich and great among the heathen, to live there, and thus have opportunity to proclaim the love of Jesus and His salvation.
A non-missionary Church is like Coleridge’s ice-ship, manned by dead men from prow to stern.
A clergyman was once asked by the Duke of Wellington, “How are you getting on with the propagation of the gospel abroad? Is there any chance of the Hindoos becoming Christians?” To which the clergyman replied, “Oh no! I do not see anything doing there; I see no reason to suspect any work of the kind being successful.” “Well,” said the duke, “what have you to do with that? What are your marching orders? Are they not, ‘Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature’? Do your duty, sir, and never mind results.”
An English preacher asked some British soldiers, “If Queen Victoria were to issue a proclamation, and, placing it in the hands of her army and navy, were to say, ‘Go ye into all the world and proclaim it to every creature,’ how long do you think it would take to do it?” One of these brave fellows, accustomed to obey orders without hesitation or delay, and at peril of life, promptly answered, “Well, I think we could manage it in about eighteen months.”

Mark 16:16. Baptism in the apostolic age.—It coincided with the greatest religious change which the world had yet witnessed. Multitudes of men and women were seized with one common impulse, and abandoned by the irresistible conviction of a day, an hour, a moment, their former habits, friends, associates, to be enrolled in a new society, under the banner of a new faith. That new society was intended to be a society of “brothers,” bound by ties closer than any earthly brotherhood—filled with life and energy such as fall to the lot of none but the most ardent enthusiasts, yet tempered by a moderation, a wisdom, and a holiness such as enthusiasts have rarely possessed. It was, moreover, a society swayed by the presence of men whose words even now cause the heart to burn, and by the recent recollections of One whom, “not seeing, they loved with love unspeakable.” Into this society they passed by an act as natural as it was expressive. The plunge into the bath of purification, long known among the Jewish nation as the symbol of a change of life, was still retained as the pledge of entrance into this new and universal communion—retained under the sanction of Him into whose name they were by that rite “baptised.” In that early age the scene of the transaction was either some deep wayside spring or well, as for the Ethiopian, or some rushing river, as the Jordan, or some vast reservoir, as at Jericho or Jerusalem, whither, as in the baths of Caracalla at Rome, the whole population resorted for swimming or washing. The water in those Eastern regions, so doubly significant of all that was pure and refreshing, closed over the heads of the converts, and they rose into the light of heaven new and altered beings. It was natural that on such an act were lavished all the figures which language could furnish to express the mighty change—“Regeneration,” “Illumination,” “Burial,” “Resurrection,” “A new creation,” “Forgiveness of sins,” “Salvation.” Well might the apostle say, “Baptism doth even now save us,” even had he left his statement in its unrestricted strength to express what in that age no one could misunderstand. But no less well was he led to add, as if with a prescience of coming evils, “Not the putting away the filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good conscience toward God” (1 Peter 3:21).—Dean Stanley.

New birth in baptism.—An old man of eighty was baptised in America by a missionary, and thenceforth led a life devoted to God. Two years later he was lying on his death-bed, and when asked his age he replied, “I am only two years old, for my life began when I was born for God in baptism; the previous eighty years were a life of death.”

Saved.—At the wreck of the steamer Atlantic on the coast of Halifax hundreds of lives were lost. Amongst the passengers who escaped was a Christian merchant from Boston, who, as soon as he could reach a telegraph office, sent a message to his family. It contained only a single word, but it was worth more to them than all the world. It was the word Saved. Afterwards the merchant had the telegram framed and hung up in his office to remind him of God’s mercy to him.