Perspectives on the Ending of Mark: Four Views

by David Alan Black

there is not a single passage in Mark 1:1–16:8 comparable to the stylistic, grammatical, and lexical anomalies that we find clustered in vv. 9–20. Although one might be able to parry off individual pieces of evidence, the cumulative effect is devastating for authenticity. Further, if the text is already suspicious because of external data, then these linguistic peculiarities are strong evidence of the spurious nature of the LE.

Mark 16:9–20 deviates strongly from the pattern we see everywhere else in the Gospel when it comes to synoptic parallels. By far the best explanation for the Matthean and Lukan Resurrection accounts looking so different from each other is that they had lost their template because Mark ended his Gospel at v. 8.

he would have written his Gospel on a roll, and the first generation of copies would also have been on rolls. And if the Gospel was written on a roll, then the most protected section would be the end, because when someone rolled the book back up, the end would be on the inside.

Many who reject the LE have claimed it to be a later compilation drawn from the other canonical Gospels. Certain elements of the LE do parallel material appearing in Matthew, Luke, and even John.115However, a claim of derivative compilation cannot stand once the unparalleled “additional” material found within the LE is considered. This material is not derived from the remaining canonical Gospels nor from any known non-canonical material; independent uncompiled authorship remains primary in this regard. A summary compiler of pre-existing narrative would closely follow the sources, even if abridging; additional unverifiable material would not be created or included.

Were an independent writer attempting to summarize the Resurrection appearances found in the remaining three Gospels (or even those cited in Acts 1 and 1 Corinthians 15), closer parallels would be present and the problematic non-harmonious material would not have appeared.116

The unparalleled LE material should not have appeared within a summary document; such affects the question of source and motive in LE composition, particularly in light of the normative pattern for a summary document as demonstrated in MS 2145.

When undoubted Markan portions can be shown to be “less Markan” than the LE, and when the LE can be shown to contain “Markan elements,” the various arguments from vocabulary and style lose much of their force.

The same applies to modern writers who appear more willing to speculate than to accept the general transmissional evidence that is nearly unanimous in support of the LE, apart from the limited questioning that occurs primarily during the fourth century.

Generally, what continued to be copied by the church were the Gospels alone, or the Pauline corpus for example; and it was not until the Middle Ages that we again find complete New Testaments being produced.

The listing of the Resurrection appearances in a scanty manner in these verses looks more like a summary of Luke and John rather than a catalogue such as is found in the (earlier) 1 Corinthians 15; and it follows a Jerusalem tradition, pace Mark 16:7, which looks to a Christophany in Galilee.

“Tongues” are nowhere else in our Gospels. Drinking poison without harm is nowhere else in the New Testament; this detail seems to belong better in the New Testament apocrypha.

If it was, then the language, style, vocabulary, and even the theology are different from the undisputed words of the original author, as we have demonstrated. But it is rare (even unknown) for a NT author to lift, lock, stock and barrel, a narrative passage as opposed to a saying, a hymn, or a canticle, such as we are asked to believe Mark did when he found 16:9–20. It is an inferior piece of writing, plodding and grey, compared with Mark's racy, simple, and colloquial writing elsewhere. If he did find such a passage already in existence, he certainly did not refashion it in his own style.

Obviously, like all the evangelists, he used materials from the oral tradition. Matthew and Luke took over texts from Mark, but they rewrote them and left their own literary fingerprints on them.

If I am right, then we are left with the argument that it was a later—probably second century—editor who found this paragraph and, despite its imperfections for such a purpose, used it (in time for Irenaeus to know it as part of Mark's Gospel) to round off a dissatisfyingly incomplete Gospel—especially if that Gospel was by then being used to complete a fourfold Gospel canon.

There seems to have been a reluctance from the beginning to tell of Jesus' Christophany to Peter, especially if it was independent of a general appearance to the Eleven or if it occurred first. But some echoes of the tradition have survived. In Luke, Cleopas and his companion are keen to relate to the disciples that they have just witnessed the risen Christ in Emmaus, only to be informed that these two, otherwise unknown, followers, were not the first to see him; they are told that he has “already appeared” to Simon (Peter) but the episode itself is not included. Paul, despite his rivalry with Peter expressed through his letters,29 is also aware of this private Christophany first to Peter (1 Cor 15:5). Obviously, an appearance of the risen Christ to Peter was so well known that reference to it could not have been expunged entirely from the tradition, but it is mysterious that no record of the encounter has survived.

We may argue that the original authors of the biblical texts were themselves inspired but to pretend that their words were transmitted unchanged is stretching credulity to its breaking point.

The word “canonical” does not imply “original” and it certainly does not involve appeals to divine protectionism, inerrancy, or inspiration (whatever those words are said to mean).

The sooner that the language of inerrancy is dropped in the context of textual criticism the better it will be for scholarship.

Raymond Brown34: “…[W]hile New Testament books are canonical, no particular Greek text should be canonized; and the most one can claim for a critically prepared Greek New Testament is scholarly acceptance” (italics mine).

At 16:8 we await a motive for the women's fear. An English rendering that would indicate the interrupted sentence could end as follows: “… because they were fearful of.”

For instance, the teaching that believers will be granted miraculous powers and that signs will prove the truth of the preaching is against Mark 8:11–13.

On the basis of Markan priority there is no evidence that Matthew and Luke were dependent on Mark's Easter narratives. Both have different Easter stories. We cannot use Matthew or Luke to make claims about what they may or may not have read in their copies of Mark in chap.16. If Mark was composed in AD 65 then its ending may have been lost before Luke and Matthew in the 70s-80s found it.

I will argue that Mark originally ended his Gospel narrative (comprised of the actual words of Peter) at 16:8 and then later supplied the last twelve verses himself as a suitable conclusion.

I hold that none of the texttypes is superior or inferior to the others, and that each has been preserved for our use in resolving textual issues. Why try to balance the stool on two legs when God has given us three?

each of the four Gospel accounts, and all of them together, have a common message as documents of faith in the service of faith. The differences between them, significant though they are, do not obscure their basic message of salvation through Christ.

The apostles realized that they had somehow to promulgate those passages of the Holy Scriptures “from Moses and all the prophets” (Luke 24:27) that Jesus had explained to Cleopas on the road to Emmaus. It also became clear to them that their main apologetic task would be to demonstrate to the Jewish authorities that Jesus had literally fulfilled all the prophecies about the Messiah. These considerations were the original motivation for the composition of the Gospel of Matthew.

Christian tradition tells us that the Twelve entrusted this important work to the apostle Matthew; and so, not long after the resurrection, Matthew set to work. His purpose seems to have been to compile schematically the Master's teachings without special regard to their chronological order, as his Gospel was meant to be a handbook for teaching and administration in the church. Perhaps the greatest problem that he faced was that of reducing the immense mass of material available to the Twelve in the form of their personal reminiscences of the Lord into a manageable quantity by deciding which stories to include and which to omit.

Matthew's account of the infancy of Jesus is mostly apologetic, its aim being to prove that he was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary, and that he was the Son of David by legitimate adoption by Joseph.

The main part of the teaching of Jesus is given in a series of carefully crafted sermons or discourses designed to give the reader the clearest possible idea of the way in which the Messiah, depicted as the Redeemer of the world, set out his implementation and supplementation of the old Law. Thus the great Sermon on the Mount (chaps. 5–7) is constructed to give the reader the full power and beauty of the new spirit infused by Jesus into the old letter of the Law of Moses.

In short, then, the Gospel of Matthew was the manifesto of the mother church of Jerusalem, and it is therefore the fundamental document of the Christian faith.

The recognition of Gentile freedom from the Law of Moses at the Council of Jerusalem (AD 49) then marked another milestone in the progress of the church (Acts 15:16–35).

His missionary experience had proved that the Gospel of Matthew, which he was faithfully using as a follow-up to his oral teaching, did not answer all the questions of his Asian and Greek converts.

For example, his story of the birth of Jesus is totally different from Matthew's, which (as we have noted) was almost entirely apologetic in tone and content. Luke, however, provided a straightforward narrative that stems either directly or indirectly from Mary herself.

Even an educated man like Paul wasn't impressed with book learning. Let us not shy away from being so thrilled with Jesus that we appear to be drunk to others. When confronted with the Person of Jesus Christ, we can respond in no other way.

Although our various presenters have perspectives on these issues, they hold them not as raw presuppositions, but as tested presuppositions. The question under discussion is which set of tested presuppositions along with the evidence tied to this particular problem forms the most coherent whole. Each view will probably score points here and there; a problem as complex as this one is not easily resolved. If it were straightforward, then it would not likely be a problem! So the issue is trying to resolve who has the most comprehensive solution to our problem, and even that solution may well not be problem free. Any solution to a difficult problem like this one is likely to leave loose ends untied.

We should beware of a brittle fundamentalism that sets up this kind of a question in such a way that when it breaks, it shatters into a thousand pieces like a broken windshield. “Either/or” thinking often plagues both conservatives and liberals in a question like this, leaving out some “both/ and options” that also could well be in play.

It is crucial to remind ourselves that the way we think the text should work is not necessarily the way it is.

Magness's work clearly shows that open-ended accounts are not rare in the ancient world, so that the claim that such readings are modernist or postmodern lacks acquaintance with such ancient examples.

Examples of narrative ending with an open ending in the New Testament include how Israel is handled at the end of Acts (if not Paul's fate) and the story of the Prodigal Son.

Magness's case for Mark is that the evangelist has developed themes involving the concepts of fear and silence.13 In Mark, silence is not necessarily the function of ignorance or misunderstanding, but of knowledge and awe (see exorcism accounts and remarks about confessing Jesus as Messiah in public). More than that, fear is an appropriate response to the display of divine power. So Magness argues that the silence of the women is not to be seen as absolute and the fear reflects a response to something divine, made clear by observation and instruction.

It is here that Mark ends. Mark presents the fact of resurrection on its own. He has affirmed it as promised by God's Word and Jesus' own teaching. So Mark leaves the reader with a choice.

The ending fits with Mark's readers. For Jesus is no longer appearing to people physically. The message calls for faith without a direct sign from beyond.

More importantly, a close look at this question caused us to take a close look at Mark and to appreciate the Short Ending for what it was attempting to do, to call people who might fear a claim of resurrection and not embrace it in faith—to take a properly generated fear at the possibility of God's power and then to do the right thing with it.

However, the evidence appears to indicate that the process of thinking in terms of a unified Scripture operating like a canon took some time to develop.

Only when the apologists begin to write in the middle of the second century do we begin to see specific works named and cited and considered to be functioning as a unit.

Our understanding of the earliest church period has to deal with a tradition and theology that was being passed on in an oral fashion for the most part, with some writings that became seen as Scripture also working alongside.20

The long and the short of it is this: whatever choice we make, it should not significantly alter our faith.