Two weeks ago we looked at Isaiah 61 in connection with Jesus’ announcement, “The time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe in the good news.” We asked ourselves – how do the prophets describe the coming kingdom? When the rule of God manifests itself, what does it look like? What are the types of things the Anointed of the Lord will accomplish? Isaiah tells us that he heals the brokenhearted, proclaims liberty to the captives and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; he comforts all who mourn, consoles those who mourn in Zion and gives them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. Alongside these untold blessings we are also informed that the Anointed proclaims the day of vengeance of our God – justice too is part of his message.

If we hope and pray that our Lord will foster these types of things in our midst – then we would certainly expect that when our Lord was on earth these were the types of things that characterized his ministry. If the kingdom of God was coming in Jesus, if he was indeed the Messiah, then the prophets would have trained us to look and see what was happening around him. Was righteousness springing forth before the nations? Were the captives set free? Were the brokenhearted healed? Mark, of course, knows that these are the types of questions we would be asking at this point. What happened when Jesus came on the scene? And so he answers our questions by describing a typical Sabbath Day in the life of the new King, Jesus.

Some weeks ago, we considered in detail the vision that Ezekiel had of the restoration temple and its fulfillment in the ministry of our Lord. One part of Ezekiel’s vision anticipated the renewal of the dead waters surrounding the temple as the water from the river flowed from the temple and renewed them. Alongside the renewal of the waters comes a change in the ecosystem – fish begin to dwell in the waters and fishermen to fish them. As we meditate on this picture that Ezekiel gives us – remembering that water is symbolic of the Word of God and of the Spirit of God, remembering that Jesus said to Nicodemus that he who would be born again must be born of water and the Spirit, remembering that Paul declared to Titus that we have been given new life through the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit, remembering that this same Paul is the one who declared that though we were dead in our trespasses and sins God made us alive together with Christ – as we meditate on these things, we cannot help but be struck with its resonance with the call of Jesus to His disciples – “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Like the Dead Sea, the nations are dead, the peoples of the earth are insensible to the things of God, walking in ignorance and in the darkness of their minds; but then the Word of God comes, the Gospel of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and the Spirit of God moves in the hearts and minds of men, women, and children and – lo and behold – things begin to live. And God of His grace sends out fishermen to gather these folks up and bring them into the Church of God.

As we go back to the Isaianic passages which speak of the Gospel or Good News, we find that they speak not only of the one appointed to embody the rule of God – namely, the Messiah, the Servant – they also speak of the state of affairs introduced by Him. When Messiah comes, when God acts to rescue His people from their estrangement from Him and from the land, a new state of affairs shall be introduced – life will change, cultures will change, people will change. This new state of affairs came to be called in the later prophets the kingdom or reign of God.

Thus far Mark has kept our focus on Jesus the Messiah – the one bringing this new state of affairs into existence. But today Jesus Himself begins preaching and rather than focus on Himself as the Messiah appointed by God to bring in the kingdom of God, He focuses on the arrival of the Kingdom itself. What is the Kingdom of God? How does the entrance of God’s Kingdom into human history affect the life of the people of God? These are the questions answered today.

Who was John the Baptist and how does his ministry reflect the expectation of God’s people throughout the Old Testament? Was John announcing something totally unprecedented? Did his baptism simply come out of the blue? Why was he in the wilderness? Mere coincidence? The answers to all these questions are readily available if we read Mark with eyes saturated with the poetic imagery and prophetic anticipation of the Old Testament. And what we learn should astound us – for rather than telling us a host of things about John, Mark wants us to come away with a deeper understanding of the identity of Jesus.

As we saw last week, the Gospel of Mark centers around the question, “Who is Jesus?” While the Gospel unfolds, we find the various players in the story asking themselves, “Who is this guy? What’s going on? What is the meaning of all this?”

Fortunately, Mark does not leave his readers in this same position of uncertainty. He wants us to witness the uncertainty of the cast in the story without being uncertain ourselves. He wants his readers to have the right perspective on what’s happening – to know the answer to the questions ahead of time so that they’ll be on the edge of their seats waiting (at times impatiently!) to see how long it will take the participants in the story to figure it out.

Like watching another attempt to undo a puzzle which you’ve already solved – looking over his shoulder and only with difficulty restraining oneself from declaring, “No – don’t turn it that way. That piece goes there. You’re almost there – don’t you get it yet? It’s so simple!” Mark wants his readers to slap their forehead and exclaim, “Don’t these people get it yet?!”

Mark accomplishes this feat for his readers by answering the question, “Who is Jesus?” in the very first words of His Gospel. And it is to these words and their meaning that we turn today.

In the last couple hundred years the Gospels have come under sustained attack. Their accuracy has been disputed and their reliability questioned. The so-called Quest for the Historical Jesus has endeavored to clear away the so-called Jesus of faith and uncover the Jesus of history. The folly of this quest is that it is purporting to do the very thing that the Gospel writers themselves set out to do – namely, to answer the question, “Who is Jesus?” All the Gospels are burdened to answer this question and to thrust upon their readers a moment of decision – what will you do with this Jesus? Far from revealing a conspiracy on the part of the apostles to distort the Jesus of history and creat a Jesus of faith, the Gospels reveal instead the difficulty even the apostles had recognizing who Jesus was and, even after they had figured it out, the way in which Jesus had to rework their understanding of his identity.

The life of John Mark, the author of the second of our Gospels, provides a number of incidents that illustrate important biblical principles. In particular, his interaction with the Apostle Paul highlights what steps must be taken in order to re-earn the respect of someone whose respect we have lost through sin or weakness. How can we reestablish our credit after losing it? Scripture tells us the way not to do it and the way to do it. We don’t do it through crocodile tears (like Esau) nor through playing the victim (like Saul) but through forthright confession of our guilt (like David) and steady faithfulness like John Mark.

Our culture has institutionalized the tradition of anti-traditionalism. Yesterday’s clothes are outmoded; yesterday’s ideas are prehistoric. Each new generation is expected to originate something totally new. New products are created with planned obsolescence. Beanie babies have come and gone; Tickle me Elmos have lost their flare; and Cabbage Patch dolls are a long forgotten craze. For, in order for the market economy to keep going, we’ve always got to produce something new.

Unfortunately the Church has imbibed much of this cultural food. As a result, we suffer from historical amnesia. Imagining that it is the now that matters, we have jumped on the pop culture bandwagon. We believe that spontaneous worship is more spiritual; we expect that our children will go through a period of rebellion; we construct buildings that look like skating rinks. We are planning for obsolescence.

Many of us have begun to recognize the shallowness of this thinking and are returning to older paths. As we do so, we face the very real danger of replacing one sin with another, of replacing anti-traditionalism with empty traditionalism. It will do us no good to replace spontaneity with liturgy; parental abdication with parental training; metal sheds with cathedrals if we do not understand why we are doing so. The remedy to anti-traditionalism, then, is not empty-traditionalism. The remedy to both lies in recovering the biblical imperative of generational thinking. We stand on the shoulders of those who have gone before us.