Mark does not leave his reader in the dark as to what a man must do to inherit eternal life. The requirement does not appear until after Jesus has taken up with the twelve the road to Calvary, because it is distinctly not a keeping of commandments, new or old. It is an adoption of "the mind that was in Christ, who humbled himself and became obedient unto death." In Matthew's 'improved' version of Jesus' answer to the rich applicant for eternal life, the suppliant is told he may obtain it by obeying the commandments, with supererogatory merit ("if thou wouldest be perfect"), if he follows Jesus' example of self-abnegating service. In the form and context from which Matthew borrows (Mark x. 13-45) there is no trace of this legalism, and the whole idea of supererogatory merit, or higher reward, is strenuously, almost indignantly, repudiated. No man can receive the kingdom at all who does not receive it "as a little child." Every man must be prepared to make every sacrifice, even if he has kept all the commandments from his youth up. Peter and the disciples who have "left all and followed" are in respect to reward on the same level as others. Peter's plea for the twelve is answered, "There is no man that hath left" earthly possessions for Christ's sake that is not amply compensated even here. He must expect persecution now, but will receive eternal life hereafter. Only "many that are first shall be last, and last first." Even the martyr-apostles James and John will have no superior rights in the Kingdom.
Such passages as the above not only reveal why Mark's gospel shows comparative disregard of the Precepts, but also displays an attitude toward the growing claims of apostolic authority and neo-legalism which in contrast with Matthew and Luke is altogether refreshing. The kindred of the Lord appear but twice (iii. 20 f., 31-35 and vi. 1-6), both times in a wholly unfavourable light. John appears but once, and that to receive a rebuke for intolerance. James and John appear only to be rebuked for selfish ambition. Peter seldom otherwise than for rebuke. All the disciples show constantly the blindness and "hardness of heart" which is explicitly said to characterize their nation (vi. 52; vii. 18; viii. 12, 14-21). Their self-seeking and unfaithfulness is the foil to Jesus' self-denial and faithfulness (viii. 33; ix. 6, 18 f., 29; x. 24, 28, 32, 37, 41; xiv. 27-31, 37-41, 50, 66-72). That which in Matthew (xvi. 16-19) has become a special divine revelation to Peter of the messiahship, marking the foundation of the church, is in the earlier Markan form (Mark viii. 27-33) not a revelation of the messiahship at all. Peter's answer, "Thou are the Christ," is common knowledge. The twelve are not supposed to be more ignorant than the demons! There is, however, a caustic rebuke of Peter for his carnal, Jewish idea of the implications of Christhood. A revelation of its significance almost Doketic in character is indeed granted just after to "Peter, James and John"; but they remain without appreciation or understanding of the 'vision,' though it exhibits Jesus in his heavenly glory in company with the translated heroes of the Old Testament. The revelation still remains, therefore, a sealed book until "after the resurrection."
This exaggeration of the disciples' obtuseness is partly due, no doubt, to apologetic motives. The evangelist has to meet the objection, If Jesus was really the extraordinary, superhuman being represented, and was openly proclaimed such by the evil spirits, why was nothing heard of his claims until after the crucifixion and alleged resurrection? His carrying back into the Galilean ministry of the glorified Being of Paul's redemption doctrine compels him to represent the twelve as sharing the dullness of the people who "having eyes see not, and having ears hear not." But with all allowance for this, the Roman Gospel shows small consideration for the apostles and kindred of the Lord.
It shows quite as little for Jewish prerogative and Jewish law. Jesus speaks in parables because to those "without" his preaching is to be intentionally a 'veiled' gospel (iv. 1-34). The Inheritance will be taken away from them and given to others (xii. 1-12). Priests and people together were guilty of the rejection and murder of Jesus (xv. 11-15, 29-32). Forgiveness of sins is offered by Jesus on his own authority in defiance of the scribes. Their exclusion of the publicans and sinners he disregards, proclaims abolition of their fasts, and holds their sabbath-keeping up to scorn (ii. 1—iii. 6). On the question of distinctions of meats his position is the most radical possible. The Jewish ceremonial is a "vain worship," mere "commandments of men." Defilement cannot be contracted by what "goes into a man." Jesus' saying about inward purity was not aimed at the mere 'hedge of the Law' (Matt. xv. 13), nor the mere matter of ablutions (Matt. xv. 20), but was intended to "make all meats clean" (vii. 1-23). Moses' law in some of its enactments does not represent the real divine will, but a human accommodation to human weakness (x. 2-9). Obedience to its highest code does not ensure eternal life (x. 19-21). The single law of love is "much more than all whole burnt offering and sacrifices" (xii. 28-34). When all the references to Judaism, its Law, its institutions, and its prerogative, are of this character, when Jesus always appears in radical opposition to the Law and its exponents (xii. 38-40; xiii. 1 f.), never as their supporter in any degree, the evangelist comes near to making it too hard for us to believe that he really was of Jewish birth.
On the other hand we cannot doubt the statement that he derives his anecdotes, however indirectly, from the preaching of Peter. The prologue (i. 1-13), indeed, makes no pretence of reporting the testimony of any witness, but acquaints the reader with the true nature of Jesus as "the Christ, the Son of God" by means of a mystical account of his baptism and endowment with the Spirit of Adoption, probably resting upon that document of Q, which we have distinguished from the Precepts. But the ensuing story of the ministry opens at the home of Peter in Capernaum, and continues more or less connected therewith in spite of interjected groups of anecdotes whose connection is not chronological but topical, such as ii. 1—iii. 6; iii. 22-30; iv. 1-34. It reaches its climax where Jesus at Cæsarea Philippi takes Peter into his confidence. Here again the mystical Revelation or Transfiguration vision (ix. 2-10) interrupts the connection, and shows its foreign derivation by the transcendental sense in which it interprets the person of Jesus. Certain features suggest its having been taken from the same source as the prologue (i. 1-13).
The story issues in the tragedy at Jerusalem, where, as before, Peter's figure, however unfavourable the contrast in which it is set to that of Jesus, is still the salient one. The outline in general is identical with that so briefly sketched in Acts x. 38-42—except that the absolutely essential point, the one thing which no gospel narrative can possibly have lacked, the resurrection manifestation to the disciples, and the commission to preach the gospel, is absolutely lacking!
That Mark's gospel once contained such a conclusion is almost a certainty. Imagine a gospel narrative without a report of the manifestation of the risen Lord to his disciples! Imagine a church—and that the church at Rome—giving out as the first, the authentic, original, and (in intention) the only account of the origin of the Christian faith (Mark i. 1), a narrative which ended with the apostles scattered in cowardly desertion, and Peter the most conspicuous, most remorseful renegade of them all! He who writes in Peter's name from Rome but shortly after, affectionately naming Mark "my son," must have had indeed a forgiving spirit. But traces of the real sequel have not all disappeared. Many outside allusions still remain to the turning again of Peter and stablishing of his brethren in the resurrection faith. The earliest is Paul's (1st Cor. xv. 5). The present Mark itself implies that it once had such an ending; for Jesus promises to rally his flock in Galilee after he is raised up (xiv. 28), and the women at the sepulchre are bidden to remind the disciples of the promise, though they fail to deliver their message. Indeed the whole Gospel looks forward to it. To this end "the mystery of the kingdom" is given to the chosen twelve (iii. 13 f., 31-35; iv. 10-12); for this they are forewarned (though vainly) of the catastrophe (viii. 34—ix. 1, 30-32; x. 32-34; xiv. 27-31). In fact the promise of a baptism of the Spirit (i. 8) probably implies that the original sequel related not only the appearance to Peter and (later) to the rest with the charge to preach, but also their endowment with the gifts, perhaps as in John xx. 19-23. What we now have is only a substitute for this original sequel, a substitute so ill-fitting as to have provoked repeated attempts at improvement.
From xvi. 8 onwards, as is well known, the oldest textual authorities have simply a blank. Later authorities give a shorter or longer substitute for the missing Manifestation and Charge to the twelve. The shorter follows Matthew, the longer follows Luke, with traces of acquaintance with John. Fanciful theories to explain these textual phenomena, such as accidental mutilation of the only copy, are improbable, and do not explain. If conjecture be permissible it is more likely that the original work was in two parts, after the manner of Luke-Acts, the 'former treatise' ending with the centurion's testimony, "Truly this man was a Son of God" (xv. 39). The second part continued the narrative in the form of a Preaching of Peter, perhaps ending with his coming to Rome; for the ancient literature of the church had several narratives of this type. Its disappearance will have been due to the superseding (perhaps the embodiment) of it by the work of Luke. When the primitive Markan 'former treatise' was adapted for separate use as a gospel it was quite natural that it should be supplemented (we can hardly say "completed") by the addition of the story of the Empty Sepulchre (xv. 40—xvi. 8), though this narrative is quite unknown to the primitive resurrection preaching (cf. 1st Cor. xv. 3-11), and one in which every character save Pilate is a complete stranger to the body of the work. The subsequent further additions of the so-called "longer" and "shorter" endings belong to the history of transcription after a.d. 140.
It will be apparent from the above that the Gospel of Mark is no exception to the rule that church-writings of this type inevitably undergo recasting and supplementation until the advancing process of canonization at last fixes their text with unalterable rigidity. Whether we recognize "sources," or earlier "forms," or only earlier "editions" of Mark, it is certain that appendices could still be attached long after the appearance of Luke, and probable that in the early period of its purely local currency at Rome the fund of Petrine anecdote had received more than one adaptation of form before it was carried to Syria and embodied substantially as we now have it in the composite gospels of Matthew and Luke. The omission by Luke of Mark vi. 45—viii. 26 is intentional,[22] and cannot be used to prove the existence of a shorter form; and the same is probably true of the omission of Mark ix. 38-40 by Matthew. Mark xii. 41-44, however, is probably an addition later than Matthew's time. Neither Matthew nor Luke had a text extending beyond xvi. 8. But signs of acquaintance with the original sequel appear in the appendix to John (John xxi.) and in the late and composite Gospel of Peter (c. 140). According to the latter the twelve remained in Jerusalem scattered and in hiding for the remaining six days of the feast. At its close they departed, mourning and grieving, each man to his own home. Peter and a few others, including "Levi the son of Alpheus," resumed their fishing "on the sea." ... The fragment breaks off at this point. The story may be conjecturally completed from 1st Cor. xv. 5-8, with comparison of John xxi. 1-13; Luke v. 4-8; xxii. 31 f.; xxiv. 34, 36-43.
As we look back upon the undertaking of this humble author, named only by tradition, one among the catechists of the great church of Paul and Peter, writing but a few years after their death, but a few years before 1st Peter and Hebrews, one is struck by the grandeur of his aim. It is true he was not wholly without predecessors in the field. The work which afforded him at least the substance of his prologue, and in all probability other considerable sections of his book, had already aimed in a more mystical way to connect the Pauline doctrine of Christ as the Wisdom of God with the mighty works and teachings of Jesus. Duplication of a considerable part of Mark's story (vii. 31—viii. 26 repeats with some variation vi. 30—vii. 30) shows that his work was one of combination as well as creation. But outline, proportion and onward march of the story show not only skill and care, but large-minded and consistent adherence to the fundamental plan to tell the origin of the Christian faith (Mark i. 1).