It has already been pointed out that Mark was not intending to write a consecutive biography of Jesus. A problem therefore arises concerning what principle he adopted in the structure of his gospel. Certain form critics (see later section, pp. 209 ff.) have taken a somewhat
sceptical attitude towards this problem, maintaining that no framework is discernible. This is no doubt the logical outcome of the dissection of the gospel into ‘forms’ of different kinds, provided it be conceded that the author of the whole was no more than an editor of a mass of disparate sections. But the gospel does not read like a hotchpotch of unconnected pericopae (sections), for although the connecting links are often vague the overall movement of events is clear enough. After an introduction, the narrative moves into the Galilean ministry (1:14–
6:13), followed by an account of Jesus’ work outside Galilee (6:14–8:26), the journey to Jerusalem (8:27–10:52) and the final ministry with its climax in the passion and resurrection of Jesus (11:1–16). This may be called the synoptic framework since its main pattern is followed by all the synoptic gospels. There seems no weighty reason to deny that this framework existed in the oral tradition.
C. H. Dodd 4 has argued that Mark’s framework conforms to the pattern found in Acts, particularly in Acts 10:37 ff. in the speech of Peter in Cornelius’ house. From this he deduced
4 Cf. J. V. Bartlet, St. Mark (1922), pp. 36 f. W. C. Allen, The Gospel according to St. Mark (1915), p. 6, suggested that the gospel was first produced in Aramaic in Jerusalem and was later translated into Greek at Antioch. More recently, R. H. Fuller, INT (1966), p. 107, has come out in favour of Antioch as the most likely place of origin for Mark.
5 Cf. the discussion of E. Best, Mark, p. 36.
6 Mark used only Roman monetary terms and not Greek terms, according toO. Roller, Münzen, Geld und Vermogens—Verhaltnisse in den Evangelien (1929).
1 S. E. Johnson, Mark, p. 16. H. J. Cadbury, The Making of Luke–Acts, pp. 88–89, was inclined to think that Latinisms were against rather than for a Roman origin.
2 Cf. W. Michaelis, Einleitung, p. 55. It should be noted that the mention of Rufus in Mk. 15:21 and in Rom. 16:13 has been thought to point to a Roman destination, since if Rufus were in Rome, there would be some point in Mark’s incidental mention of him.
3 Mark the Evangelist (Eng. tr. 1969), pp. 54–116.
that the framework formed part of the Christian kerygma. It should be noted that the skeleton framework envisaged is assumed to have been longer than the summary in Acts 10, but nevertheless no more than a skeleton. As a result the majority of Mark’s material is
considered to have existed either in isolation or in grouped units, which have then been fitted into the general framework. In support of his contention, Dodd further suggested that when the brief connecting summaries found in Mark are extracted and placed end to end they form a continuous narrative. If then a framework was part of the earliest pronouncements about Jesus, we may maintain that this framework is likely to have been based on fact. This does not necessarily mean that Mark has preserved a correct order in every detail.1
Many scholars have challenged the basis of Dodd’s theory of a Marcan framework. The major challenger has been D. E. Nineham,2 who may be regarded as a representative of the form-critical school which sees the Marcan material as consisting of disconnected units. His arguments are as follows. 1. He complains that the proposed framework is so brief that it would have afforded little help for the fitting in of the material. 2. He suggests that few units of tradition contained hints of time or place to enable them to be fitted in with certainty. 3.
Some groups, for instance the group dealing with the theme of the approaching passion, may represent Jesus’ sayings on a number of occasions and have been collected into a topical group in the gospel. 4. The comparison with the Acts speeches is invalid, since Luke would not have introduced a different summary from what he had already reproduced in his gospel (this argument assumes that Luke composed the Acts speeches himself). 5. There would appear to be no relevance for the life and worship of the church in an outline of the ministry, since the church was not interested in that kind of thing. 6. Against Dodd’s argument that where topical connection is lacking in the juxtaposition of unit-traditions the connection must be historical, Nineham raises two objections: first, units may be placed in contexts to which they do not appear to belong because there was nowhere else to put them, or else they were attached to some other unit in the tradition; and, secondly, the supposed lack of topical order may be due to a lack of understanding and would therefore be unreal.
Another critic of Dodd’s position is E. Güttgemanns,1 who has made the following points.
1. It is Luke’s presentation of the life of Jesus which determines the apostolic kerygma. 2.
Luke’s speeches linguistically look like his own production. Güttgemanns here agrees with Haechen and others. 3. With Nineham, he rejects the outline idea because Mark does not refer to the kerygma. 4. He considers that there were kerygmata rather than one kerygma. He therefore rejects the idea of a normative apostolic kerygma.
4 In an article in ET 43 (1932), pp. 396–400, reproduced in his New Testament Studies (1953), pp. 1–
11.
1 In his book The Origin of the Gospel of Mark (1954), H. A. Guy devotes a chapter to what he calls
‘The Disorder of Mark’s Gospel’. While not all of his examples are convincing, his evidence is sufficient to show that Mark’s primary concern was not ‘order’ (see p. 83 f. for a discussion of Papias’ statement about Mark’s order). Guy’s own explanation of the structure of the gospel is that it grew out of the repetition of the material by Christian preachers, thus accounting for several
‘asides’. This suggestion of oratorical ‘asides’, however, would transfer some of Jesus’ sayings to the preachers without sufficient warrant. Cf. the view of C. H. Turner that Mark’s gospel contains many explanatory parentheses (JTS 26 (1925), pp. 145 ff.).
2 Studies in the Gospels, pp. 223–239.
1 Candid Questions concerning Gospel Form Criticism (1982), pp. 312 ff.
These objections to the validity of some historical framework in the tradition vary in their validity, but are worthy of careful consideration. They will carry most weight for those who accept that the tradition circulated in units. In fact, Nineham seems to begin with a
predisposition against a skeleton outline, so that his criticisms are not unexpected.
Nevertheless when allowance is made for this, it would appear that the case against a skeleton outline is rather stronger than that for it. But is there not a third possibility? If the passion narrative was preserved in a definite historical sequence, would not the same principle have been used for other narratives? Nineham anticipates this argument, but dismisses it because of the difference of the passion material from the rest, because of its close similarities in all four gospels, and because of the absence in it of unit-narratives similar to those which are found elsewhere. But the evidence shows the possibility of the preservation of a historical sequence and shows, moreover, the church’s interest in such a sequence. There are no grounds, therefore, for maintaining that interest was lacking merely because such a sequence held no importance for the life and worship of the church. Would not the form of the passion narrative have led people to expect some sequence in the remainder of the material?And would not catechetical instructions have fostered such an expectation? Since one third of Mark comprises the passion and resurrection narrative, is it not reasonable to suppose that the earlier material existed in some equally connected form?1 The sequence would have been of importance only in so far as it contributed to the main purpose, i.e. to explain the passion and resurrection narratives.2 It is difficult to conceive that Mark did not purpose to place recorded events in some kind of chronological order (however loosely), for the gospel is full of notes of time and place.3
In suggesting the likelihood of some validity being attached to Mark’s structure, we are not supposing that the writing of a consecutive narrative was Mark’s main aim. We have already discussed a variety of suggestions regarding his purpose. But it seems most natural to suppose that Mark was not arranging his material in a totally arbitrary order, whatever his particular purpose may have been.
b. A typological structure
In the form of theory which invests the gospel with cryptic meanings we move away from the idea of a historical record. The writer becomes more of a poet than anything approaching a historian. He weaves his narratives together in cyclic patterns and draws particular
significance from numbers. The chief advocate of this kind of theory is A. Farrer,4 who admits that his methodology is alien to modern scientific criticism, but he claims that it nevertheless may be true. This type of theory has been criticized on the grounds that it loses
1 W. L. Knox’s theory of a number of tracts behind Mark’s gospel should be noted here. In what he calls the Twelve Source, he suggests something of the same kind of outline as in Acts 10:37 f. (Cf. his Sources of the Synoptic Gospels, I (I953), p. 28). In an article on the Marcan framework, H. Sawyerr, SJT 14 (1961), pp. 279–294, disagrees with both Dodd and Nineham, and suggests that the key to Mark’s structure is to be found in his presentation of Christ’s conflict with evil. He finds this as a unifying thread through the material.
2 C. E. B. Cranfield, Mark, p. 14, rightly points out that all the other sections of Mark are dominated by these narratives.
3 Cf. H. B. Swete, Mark (1927), p. lviii, for a list of these.
4 A Study of St. Mark (1951) and St. Matthew and St. Mark (1953). In the latter book he changes his position somewhat and shows how Matthew sometimes breaks the numerical symbolism of Mark.
touch with historical reality 1. It has also been pointed out that any esoteric treatment of texts puts them beyond the reach of historical enquiry and this is unsatisfactory as a basis of theology.2
c. A calendrical structure
In the section on purpose, comment has already been made on Carrington’s theory that Mark was writing to provide a book which could be used alongside a lectionary of Old Testament readings.3 In attempting to prove that this lies behind Mark’s gospel, Carrington appeals to the sixty-two divisions in Codex Vaticanus and the fortyeight in Codex Alexandrinus. Since the passion narrative occupies fourteen divisions, he thinks this provides mathematical confirmation of his theory. He also appeals to what he calls triadic groups, but there is no doubt he has to stretch the evidence to get the gospel to fit into such a structure. The most that can be said for this theory is that it draws attention to a connection between the worshipping community and the transmission of the gospels, but it cannot be said to provide a basis for understanding Mark’s structure.
Because of the difficulty of imagining that a Jewish lectionary spread over more than three years could provide an explanation of Mark’s structure, another theory 4 has been suggested which confines the occasion to one feast. This proposal sees the Passover practice of retelling the exodus story as a suitable framework for Mark’s whole gospel. But this does not avoid the problem that Mark appears to have been intended for Gentile readers, who can hardly be supposed to have been acquainted with Jewish haggadah.
d. A literary structure
Not all form critics consider that Mark was working with entirely unconnected units of tradition.5 V. Taylor,6 for instance, suggests that Mark used ‘complexes’, consisting of small groups of narratives or sayings which belong together and which were received by Mark in this form. Mark’s structure therefore resulted from his attempt to stitch these complexes together with simple connecting links.1 Three main complexes have been suggested—those shaped by the writer but based on existing tradition, those based on personal testimony (probably Petrine) and those containing topical arrangements of sayings and pronouncement stories. Under this kind of theory Mark is seen as more of an arranger than as an author.
e. A theological structure
Due to the rise of redaction criticism, which stresses the part played by the author as distinct from a purely editorial function, many recent scholars have sought to discern Mark’s method of constructing his gospel from his theological purpose. The trend was really begun by W.
1 Cf. the critique of Farrer’s position in Helen Gardner’s The Limits of Literary Criticism (1956).
2 T. A. Roberts, History and Christian Apologetic (1960), pp. 114‐143. See alsoR. P. Martin’s comments, Mark, pp. 88–90.
3 The Primitive Christian Calendar (1952).
4 Cf. J. Bowman, The Gospel of Mark. The New Christian Jewish Passover Haggada (1965).
5 For a full explanation of form criticism, see pp. 209 ff.
6 Mark, pp. 90 ff.
1 Taylor, Mark, pp. 112–113. E. Lohse, Mark’s Witness to Jesus Christ, pp. 28–29, however, takes it for granted that even passages that appear connected are no real unities, but are the author’s attempt to create a unity.
Wrede with his book on the Messianic secret,2 in which he sought to show that Mark had structured his book to supply a reason why Jesus, who was now proclaimed as Messiah by the church, did not himself make a Messianic claim. The frequent exhortations to silence were seen as the real key to an understanding of Mark’s gospel. The question of Wrede’s contribution to the form-critical debate will be discussed in a later chapter (see p. 210 f.), but it must be noted that his theory has been criticized, and in the form in which he expounded it it cannot be regarded as an adequate explanation of Mark’s structure.3
Many other studies of Mark’s structure have proceeded on the assumption that he has been guided by his own Christology. Whereas there are no doubt elements of truth in these Christological approaches, there is no justification for supposing that Mark created a
theological framework totally unconnected to any historical reality. The major difficulty with redaction criticism is to know what can be attributed to Mark and what was an integral part of the material with which he worked. If Mark’s theology is supposed to be seen in the way in which he selects and structures his material, it must never be forgotten that the sole source of such information is the gospel itself and there is real danger of a circular argument!
V. AUTHORSHIP