Gospel of Mark

In Defense of Rocky Soil

markus-spiske-vrbZVyX2k4I-unsplash.jpg

Gospel of Mark Series: Mark 4 (focus on verses 1-20)

"Listen! A farmer went out to plant some seed..." (Mark 4:3, NLT)

I love the parables of Jesus. Stories capture my imagination, and Jesus' parables help me understand God's kingdom in creative ways. But—and this sounds terrible to say—there is one parable I've never quite liked. It makes me uncomfortable! This is not a bad thing. Good stories make us uncomfortable as we wrestle with their themes. When the movie Inside Out was released, I left the theater a different person than when I entered. I think Jesus had this same goal in mind when he told his stories.

The parable I am referring to is known as the Parable of the Sower. It's a simple story about seed that fell along four different types of earth: path, rocks, thorns, and good soil. Only the seed that fell on good soil grew and produced a crop. The other three met various unfortunate fates (eaten by birds, scorched by the sun, and choked by thorns, respectively!).

This parable always gave me the impression that we only have a one-in-four chance of producing a good crop. Those aren't great odds! What happens to the other 75% of us who aren't "good soil"? Will we be left out?

My understanding of this parable expanded when I read J. Ellsworth Kalas' wonderful book Parables from the Backside. The chapter about this parable, titled "Seasons of the Soil," challenges us not to be so rigid in our categorization of soil. As there are seasons in life, so there are seasons in the soil of the soul.

I've been the concrete path, unwilling (or, in some cases, unable) to absorb God's word. I've been both the rocky and thorny ground, providing a difficult environment for God’s word to grow in me. And, thanks to God's grace, every now and then I'm good soil. Something clicks, and God is able to bring something good out of my stubborn heart.

We can have an in-depth conversation about each type of soil. But today, I want to say a brief word about the rocky soil. I find myself feeling sympathetic toward anyone facing a season of this shallow ground.

Jesus clearly told us the circumstances this type of soil is facing.

The seed on the rocky soil represents those who hear the message and immediately receive it with joy. But since they don't have deep roots, they don't last long. They fall away as soon as they have problems or are persecuted for believing God's word. (Mark 4:16-17, NLT, emphasis mine.)

Those plagued with rocky soil lack deep roots. This doesn't necessarily mean they've never had deep roots. But maybe at this moment, something has shaken their foundation.

I wonder—is the church a safe place for rocky soil? There are people in our churches right now who are thinking about walking away from God. They have "wilted under the hot sun" (v. 6) of life and don't think they can go on. If they leave, will we judge them for not having enough faith? Or will we try to shelter them from the scorching sun?

Kalas says that "[one] time when the soil of the soul is inclined to be shallow is in periods of personal loneliness." I can vouch for this. I think we all could!

Years ago, I was going through a season of rocky soil. The only thing that got me through it was the love and support of other people.

My friends couldn't grow deeper roots for me. Only God could do that. But they could provide respite for me while in such a fragile condition. My roots weren't planted firmly enough to soak up God's hope. So they had to drip hope to me with one of those watering globe things. (I know pretty much zilch about plants, but I know that's a real thing!)

And you know what? It worked! Slowly but surely, day by day, my roots grew deeper. I began leaning on God more. Life was still hard, but my trust was growing.

And it was all because people noticed my soil was shallow and decided to do something about it. They lovingly scooped me up and provided a safe space where my roots could heal and strengthen.

If you are going through a season of rocky soil—and the problems of life have withered your faith—I pray this small encouragement can drip some hope to you. You're not alone. Tomorrow I may find myself on rocky ground in need of hope. And you may be the one holding the water globe.

J. Ellsworth Kalas beautifully summed up why no soil should be counted out:

The soil that is so resistant that birds carry away the seed before it takes root, or so shallow that a sprout springs up and dies within a day, or so encumbered with itself that its weeds choke out the seed of the Kingdom, is also the soil that can bring forth abundantly. I believe there are seasons in the soil of the soul. Yours and mine. I dare not, therefore, give up hope for any soil.

Questions to Ponder:

What season(s) of your life have you been rocky soil? Who cared for your roots while you were in that fragile state?

Do you know anyone on the verge of walking away from God because of life's problems? How can you offer them hope while their roots heal?

Get 5 free chapters of my 40-day devotional Nobody Left Out: Jesus Meets the Messes.

The Law of Love

Mark 3.jpg

Gospel of Mark Series: Mark 3 (focus on verses 1-6)

[Jesus] looked around at them in anger and, deeply distressed at their stubborn hearts, said to the man, "Stretch out your hand." He stretched it out, and his hand was completely restored. Then the Pharisees went out and began to plot with the Herodians how they might kill Jesus. (Mark 3:5-6, NIV)

Today, we're in chapter 3 of our brief survey of the book of Mark. From the opening chapter, Mark paints a picture of Jesus as the Suffering Servant. Wherever Jesus goes, he brings new life to people in need. But with each act of service, he runs the risk of getting himself in trouble with the religious elite.

What strikes me throughout these chapters is how emotional Jesus gets. Jesus is not a stoic figure, going through life like the Terminator. Jesus drips with humanity. Sometimes he gets overwhelmed. He may even be the kind of person we would chastise for "wearing his heart on his sleeve."

In the first chapter, Jesus is moved by the injustice of a man living with leprosy. In chapter 2, he is touched by the commitment of four friends who carry their paralyzed friend to him. After healing the man, the Pharisees give Jesus some major side-eye. Throughout the rest of this chapter, the Pharisees follow Jesus around and heckle him. They accuse him of dining with sinners, not fasting, and working on the Sabbath. With each accusation, Jesus has a response that leaves them speechless.

By the time chapter 3 rolls around, they decide to take drastic measures. These religious leaders attempt to use a disabled man to trap Jesus. The man had a shriveled hand; it may have been the early stages of leprosy, or a disability he was born with. Either way, it made him an outcast in town. People probably thought God was punishing him for his sin.

And yet, the man didn't have this view. When we meet him, he's at the synagogue. People may have turned their backs on him, but he didn't turn his back on God. I think that's beautiful.

The Pharisees had a chance to reach out to this man in love. They were supposed to be the example, showing God's people how to treat one another. These law-keepers were aware of the Law of Love, even before Jesus solidified it. They had this law in their Bible, which we call the Old Testament:

Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against a fellow Israelite, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the Lord. (Leviticus 19:18, NLT)

But instead of showing compassion to one of their own, the Pharisees used him as a pawn to win an argument.

As Jesus entered the synagogue, the Pharisees kept a close eye on Jesus and the man. They waited and watched, ready to pounce if Jesus did one of his pesky miracles on the Sabbath.

And you know what? This made Jesus mad. But it was an anger rooted in compassion. The text says Jesus was "deeply hurt as he sensed their inhumanity" (Mark 3:5–6, PHILLIPS). The way the Pharisees were treating this man broke Jesus' heart.

Then Jesus said something that seems so obvious. I'm sure he was perplexed he even had to say it. He looked at these guys and said:

"Is it right to do good on the Sabbath day, or to do harm? Is it right to save life or to kill?" (Mark 3:4, PHILLIPS)

Jesus was saying, "Guys, are you serious? You're upset with me about having compassion toward someone? Where are your priorities?"

Then Jesus told the man to stretch out his hand, and he healed him. And the Pharisees walked away with sour faces, plotting to kill Jesus.

How mad were the Pharisees? Enough to plot with their enemies! After this incident, "the Pharisees went out and began to plot with the Herodians how they might kill Jesus" (Mark 3:6, NLT).

Like the Pharisees, the Herodians were Jewish. But they sided with the Roman government, while the Pharisees opposed Rome. Look at Jesus, bringing political parties together! (In an effort to kill him, but details, details...)

In the Pharisees' version of religion, rules were a barrier to compassion. In their effort to be perfect, they ignored the Law of Love. But Jesus was the Law of Love wrapped in human flesh.

It's easy for me to cheer for Jesus and boo at the Pharisees. But before I do, I have to ask myself, When do I ignore the Law of Love? Who have I acted inhumanely towards?

The synagogue was the one place this man should have been safe. It was the one place he should have felt loved, valued, and part of a family. But instead, the religious leaders saw this man as nothing more than bait to catch Jesus.

Being inhumane doesn't always mean acting cruelly. These religious men didn't assault the man with the shriveled hand. They didn't verbally abuse him or kick him out of the synagogue. But they sat in silent judgment.

Where have I done this?

When I see the man standing near the highway off-ramp, holding the "Please Help" cardboard sign, how often do I look away uncomfortably? Or start talking to my wife about something funny to avoid the awkwardness.

My mind starts to make up stories about him. He probably had a million chances to get his life together.

Or what about at church? Who do I sit with? I search out the popular people, of course.

As I enter the sanctuary to find a seat, whose eyes do I avoid meeting? I've talked with them after service once or twice, and the conversation goes on and on. I want to get to lunch already.

Maybe they are lonely and need a friend. Why am I in such a hurry to turn my back and head out the door?

Who am I hoping I don't run into at the coffee station? Their life is a little too messy for my tastes. I just want to relax and hear a good message this morning.

All too often, I turn my back on the messy and unlovable. But Jesus runs to them. He throws his arms around them and weeps.

Jesus was deeply hurt by how the religious leaders were treating the man with the shriveled hand. The man's problems became Jesus' problems. Jesus was willing to be late for lunch to take on this man's burden. He was willing to be unpopular to hang out with the outcasts.

When has my inhumanity against someone hurt Jesus?

It's a scary question, but it's a question I can face because I know there's grace. Although I turn my back on others, Jesus won't turn his back on me. And when I realize I'm a mess, I won't be so quick to turn my back on other messes.

I admire the man with the shriveled hand. I admire his desire to pursue God when God's family wasn't pursuing him. And as Jesus welcomes him, it's a reminder that God calls me to welcome others. It's what the Law of Love requires me to do.

Because Jesus doesn't want anyone left out.

Questions to Ponder:

Where have you allowed petty arguments to keep you from showing compassion?

Is there anything the Law of Love is requiring you to do this week?

Get 5 free chapters of my 40-day devotional Nobody Left Out: Jesus Meets the Messes.

The Lesser of the Two Miracles

Mark 2.jpg

Gospel of Mark Series: Mark 2 (focus on verses 1-12)

While [Jesus] was preaching God's word to them, four men arrived carrying a paralyzed man on a mat. They couldn't bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, so they dug a hole through the roof above his head. Then they lowered the man on his mat, right down in front of Jesus. (Mark 2:2-4, NLT)

It was the scheme of a lifetime.

The four men—lifelong buddies—got word that Jesus was back in Capernaum. They had heard about all the amazing things Jesus had done. He was freeing people of diseases. A feverish woman hopped out of bed and started running around the kitchen. Jesus was somehow making sick people whole.

The four men told their friend about Jesus. He was skeptical, to say the least. He had been paralyzed for many years, and no doctor was able to offer him an ounce of hope. He would almost rather resign himself to this fate than dream about a different life. Hope is a dangerous thing when you've been disappointed so many times.

Still, his friends insisted they bring him to Jesus, and there wasn't much he could do to stop them. So they picked him up, mat and all, and ran as fast as they could toward Capernaum. They heard Jesus was staying at some fisherman's house. But by the time they arrived that morning, it was too late. Jesus and his crew had packed up and moved on. More disappointment.

"I told you this was a stupid idea," piped the man from his mat.

But a few days later, Jesus was back in town. The four friends, undeterred, picked up their buddy again, much to his grumbling. When they arrived at the house Jesus was staying at, it was already packed to the brim with people. There was no way they were getting through that crowd.

"I told you this wouldn't work," said the man from his mat. "Now take me back home."

"No," said one of the men. "There's got to be a way in." His eyes scanned the crowd, then gazed up at the roof of the house. A smile slowly spread across his face.

"Guys, I've got a crazy idea…"

___

Okay, so the above story is a bit of "Bible fan fiction." It's what I imagine took place before the opening verses of Mark 2.

The dedication these men have to their paraplegic friend is amazing. It couldn't have been easy to carry him to the roof and then develop some sort of pulley system to lower him right down to Jesus.

Years ago, I spent the day in New York City with a friend. My legs were tired after walking for hours. We had tickets to see a musical that night, but the theatre was several blocks away, and I couldn't go on. We were short on time, so my friend picked me up and started running toward the theatre. We took our seats just as the first song was beginning. (He also talked the usher into letting us sit in the front row, but that's a different story!)

Sometimes we need to carry our friends when they are weak. Sometimes we need to be carried.

Can you imagine the crowd's response as they saw dirt start falling from the roof? Confusion. Panic. I'm sure whoever owned that house wasn't too happy. (Hopefully, they had insurance and could file a claim under "Act of God.")

But Jesus remains unfazed. He looks down at the man on the mat, smiles, and says something no one was expecting:

Seeing their faith, Jesus said to the paralyzed man, "My child, your sins are forgiven." (Mark 2:5, NLT)

What?!?!

If you were this man, what would you be thinking right now?

"Um, I'm lying here on a mat, I can't walk, and you're supposed to be some kind of miracle worker... All you can say is my sins are forgiven?! See guys, I told you this was a bad idea!"

His friends must have been stunned too. Were all the rumors about the healings false? Was this Jesus guy a fraud, or was he out of his mind?

Luckily for the man, some of the religious leaders took offense to Jesus' words.

But some of the teachers of religious law who were sitting there thought to themselves, "What is he saying? This is blasphemy! Only God can forgive sins!" (Mark 2:6-7, NLT)

Stand back! Whenever the religious leaders criticized Jesus, he usually responded by healing someone. I think he wanted to show them that love and compassion always win out over traditions and rules.

This is how the story ends:

Jesus knew immediately what they were thinking, so he asked them, "Why do you question this in your hearts? Is it easier to say to the paralyzed man 'Your sins are forgiven,' or 'Stand up, pick up your mat, and walk'? So I will prove to you that the Son of Man has the authority on earth to forgive sins." Then Jesus turned to the paralyzed man and said, "Stand up, pick up your mat, and go home!"

And the man jumped up, grabbed his mat, and walked out through the stunned onlookers. They were all amazed and praised God, exclaiming, "We've never seen anything like this before!" (Mark 2:8-12, NLT)


The question Jesus asks these religious leaders is profound.

Is it easier to forgive the sins of a person or to heal their body?

As a parenthetical, Jesus' question is more proof that sickness isn't punishment for sin. If sin and suffering were linked together, the man would have gotten up immediately after being forgiven. But he didn't.

Jesus was saying to the crowd, "Having your sins forgiven by me is a big deal. And just to prove I have the authority to do that, I'll do something easier. Like, oh, I don't know… Heal this man's body!"

The paralyzed man and his four friends witnessed two miracles that day.

One of the miracles was the man finally set free from his physical disability. I can't imagine the joy he felt as he ran throughout the town. But it was still the lesser of the two miracles. The ultimate miracle was being set free from his sin.

Do we live our lives as if Jesus' biggest miracle is overcoming our inner brokenness?

I know I don't. I gloss over it most days as if it's a given. But when I think about it, that's the miracle I need most of all.

My cerebral palsy causes me discomfort at times. Others have it worse than me, and I can't complain, but I often do. Sometimes I get aches and pains. There are days I wish I could walk farther and faster without tiring out.

But you know what has caused me more pain in my life than CP? My own bad choices. By far! My own sin has hurt me (and others) more than my CP ever has. I'm a mess, with or without CP. And Jesus came to clean up my mess and set me free from that sin.

I want to live like that's the greatest miracle in my life. Because it is.

I don't say that lightly. I know many people are praying for physical healing, and it's a God-honoring prayer. God cares about our physical bodies. I'm not trying to dismiss the pain we experience in life. But I want to remember the promise of a future day when everything in this world will be redeemed.

The man and his four friends must have celebrated the day Jesus healed his body. I'm sure the celebration lasted for days, weeks, and even years into the future. Jesus gave this man a new life.

But as the years went by, the man's body began to break down again slowly. No, he wasn't paralyzed, but he started moving slower. He had more aches and pains. Disease crept back in. The man would have to face death, just as Lazarus would have to face death a second time after Jesus raised him from the grave. Jesus' lesser miracle had a shelf life.

But because of the greater miracle, the man could look forward to a day when God's kingdom would be fully realized on earth. It's a day when death, decay, and sadness will lose all authority, and we will live forever with Jesus.

Questions to Ponder…

Who are some friends who carry you when you are weak? Is there anyone you need to help carry in their weakness?

Would your perspective on life change at all if you saw Jesus' greatest miracle as overcoming your sin? What are some ways you can remind yourself of this miracle each day?

Get 5 free chapters of my 40-day devotional Nobody Left Out: Jesus Meets the Messes.

Following Jesus Into The Unknown

Gospel of Mark Series: Mark 1

I had to get a new phone last weekend.

I'm one of the few people on earth who still has a flip phone. Because of my disability, the buttons on a flip phone are much easier to use. But on Saturday, all the buttons stopped working. (I probably dropped it one too many times.) It was torturous because I was still receiving text messages, but I couldn't open them. (Okay, maybe describing the situation as "torturous" is a bit dramatic, but it felt like it!)

On Sunday, I went to the store and purchased the only flip phone in stock. But my SIM card wasn't able to transfer over, so now I have a brand new phone with zero contacts in it. I can't even look up numbers from my old phone since the buttons don't work! I have to build my contact list back up from scratch, which seems like a daunting task. (Although it is fun to guess who's texting you and see how long you can keep the conversation going before saying, "By the way, who is this?!")

File_000.jpeg

Having to begin anew can be frustrating. But new beginnings can also be a good thing.

The book of Mark begins with God's people on the brink of something new.


Last week, we began our look into Mark's Gospel. We saw that Mark portrays Jesus as a suffering servant—a king building an upside-down kind of kingdom. Jesus' kingdom is not rooted in power but in service.

Mark 1 shows us the whirlwind that took place when Jesus entered the public eye. We don't get a lot of backstory or exposition.

Matthew and Luke ease us into the story by introducing us to Jesus' parents. We meet Jesus as a vulnerable child in a smelly stable. But Mark takes a more dramatic approach. It's as if the stage is dark, and then a spotlight shines on Jesus.

One day Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee, and John baptized him in the Jordan River. As Jesus came up out of the water, he saw the heavens splitting apart and the Holy Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice from heaven said, "You are my dearly loved Son, and you bring me great joy." (Mark 1:9-11, NLT)

At the baptism of Jesus, God ripped open the sky and told the world who Jesus was. Talk about God doing something new!

After this, Jesus is driven into the desert, where he does battle with Satan. Satan tries to stop this new thing God is doing, but he can't.

Then Jesus hits the ground running. The rest of Mark 1 is packed with brief stories of Jesus doing amazing things. Crowds followed wherever he went, anxious to see what he would do next.

As I read these stories this week, God brought two things to my attention.

1. Jesus Calls Us Into The Unknown

Embarking on a new journey can be scary, as Elsa expressed as she sang "Into The Unknown." But sometimes that's where Jesus is leading us.

One morning, the disciples interrupt Jesus while he's in the middle of quiet time. It seems they wanted him to get back to work.

Before daybreak the next morning, Jesus got up and went out to an isolated place to pray. Later Simon and the others went out to find him. When they found him, they said, "Everyone is looking for you." (Mark 11:35-37, NLT)

These guys thought they had everything figured out. Jesus had set up shop in Capernaum, and there was lots of work to be done there. They had probably settled into a routine and were becoming comfortable. But Jesus continued to invite them into the unknown.

But Jesus replied, "We must go on to other towns as well, and I will preach to them, too. That is why I came." So he traveled throughout the region of Galilee, preaching in the synagogues and casting out demons. (Mark 1:38-39, NLT)

The lead pastor of my church, John Parker, kicked off the year with a sermon about disruptions. Many of us saw 2020 as a year of disruption. I know I did. Plans got canceled. Daily routines and rhythms were changed. Life turned upside down.

But John's reminder was that God works in the middle of disruptions. If God waited until our lives were perfect to start working through us, he would never begin! And if last week was any indication, 2021 isn't going to be smooth sailing.

The disciples had no idea what awaited them in other villages. But Jesus did. He knew about all the trials and obstacles. He also knew about all the beautiful things that would be accomplished. Jesus was inviting his followers to be a part of that...

... Which brings me to the second thing.

2. Jesus Calls Us To Compassion

As Jesus and his followers set out to somewhere new, they soon crossed paths with a man who was desperate for help.

A man with leprosy came and knelt in front of Jesus, begging to be healed. "If you are willing, you can heal me and make me clean," he said. (Mark 1:40, NLT)

Leprosy was a terrible skin disease that came with severe consequences. Not only did this condition eat you alive, but it also left you isolated. It was contagious, so people recoiled at the sight of you. You were someone to be feared.

That's what makes Jesus' reply to this man so beautiful.

Moved with compassion, Jesus reached out and touched him. "I am willing," he said. "Be healed!" Instantly the leprosy disappeared, and the man was healed. (Mark 1:41-42, NLT)

Different versions of the Bible translate "moved with compassion" in different ways. Some say Jesus was "indignant" or "incensed."

Who is Jesus incensed with? Not the man. We get the image that Jesus is angered by what this man has been through. And he used that anger to move him toward acts of compassion.

I find that amazing.

Following Jesus is not a way to protect ourselves from suffering.

Following Jesus means following him into the suffering.

It means looking at people who others turn away from in disgust. It means being moved toward acts of love and compassion.

As we enter another year of uncertainty, the soil is fertile to sow seeds of division. It seems like the natural thing to do. But I pray we would follow our Suffering Servant into the unknown and be moved to do acts of compassion.

We don't know what awaits us, but Jesus does.

Questions to Ponder:

As you read Mark 1, where are the places you see Jesus calling people to something new? Where are the places you see Jesus showing compassion?

What disruptions are you dealing with in your life right now? Are there any opportunities within these circumstances to move toward acts of compassion?

Get 5 free chapters of my 40-day devotional Nobody Left Out: Jesus Meets the Messes.

The Good News of a Suffering Servant

james-coleman-xUfm5vLHvok-unsplash.jpg

The Christmas tree has been taken down. The new calendar has been put up. (My mom got me a page-a-day calendar of Mr. Rogers' quotes. Today's is "We are all neighbors." I can already tell it will help lower my blood pressure.) There is something about a new year that feels hopeful. Or at least, we hope for it to be hopeful.

We're going to begin the year by spending some time with Jesus. Starting off any year with Jesus is a good idea, but this year it seems especially necessary. We went through a lot in 2020. And as much as we'd like to believe otherwise, a new year doesn't begin in a vacuum. We're all carrying difficult things into 2021. Fixing our eyes on Jesus will help us prepare for whatever this year brings.

Just so we're starting on the same page, a little refresher. The Bible contains four books—or Gospels—about the life of Jesus: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The word gospel means "good news" in Greek. (And we can all use some good news, right?!)

Many of the same stories are found in more than one Gospel. But they are told from different perspectives. Each Gospel writer is telling us something unique about Jesus.

You may have seen "chronological" Bible reading plans that attempt to stitch together all four Gospels into one narrative. While this can be interesting to read, I think it takes away from the distinctiveness of each Gospel. The authors were writing their books to different audiences. They each had different themes they wanted to highlight.

Over the next few months, we're going to spend time in the Gospel of Mark. We'll take a look at one chapter a week. This will not be an in-depth study, but rather a way to start the year with Jesus. Some weeks, I'll focus on one story within a chapter (there are lots of little stories throughout Mark). In other weeks, we might explore the chapter as a whole.

Why Mark?

Good question. Mainly because I want to be able to say, "Oh, hi Mark."

Just kidding.

The Gospel of Mark moves quickly. The scenes change as fast as they do in action movies. Because of this, it gives us a good overview of who Jesus is and what he's about.

Mark likes to get to the point. He was writing to a Roman audience, a culture that lived a hustle and bustle lifestyle. This is one thing we have in common with the original readers!

Mark makes his motives clear from the first sentence, just in case people have to leave early:

This is the Good News about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God. (Mark 1:1, NLT)

Mark wants us to understand that the story he's about to tell should be considered good news.

But why does Mark have to spell it out for us? If something is good news, won't it be obvious?

Not always.

Mark portrays Jesus as the Suffering Servant. (The guys at The Bible Project have a great video about this.) When Jesus came on the scene, the Jewish people were longing for redemption. They were under the thumb of Rome, a political powerhouse. Yes, there was peace in Rome, but it was an eerie, tension-filled peace. The government was always watching over your shoulder, making sure you complied. And if you didn't, a terror-inducing cross loomed in the shadows.

The Jewish people wanted a Messiah who would kick some Roman butt. And we can all relate to that. We want the "bad guys" to get what's coming to them, don't we? We want to come out as the winners.

It seemed like Jesus was setting himself up to be the victorious Messiah. In the first few chapters of Mark, Jesus is on a roll, performing amazing acts and building a huge following. The only person who could spoil Jesus' fun was… Jesus himself.

As Mark continues his book, Jesus starts talking about suffering. The disciples don't like what they are hearing, especially Peter. At the halfway point of the book, Peter tries to put Jesus in his place. This doesn't go over so well.

Then Jesus began to tell them that the Son of Man must suffer many terrible things and be rejected by the elders, the leading priests, and the teachers of religious law. He would be killed, but three days later he would rise from the dead. As he talked about this openly with his disciples, Peter took him aside and began to reprimand him for saying such things.

Jesus turned around and looked at his disciples, then reprimanded Peter.
"Get away from me, Satan!" he said. "You are seeing things merely from a human point of view, not from God's." (Mark 8:31-33, NLT)

Ouch!

Before we shake our heads at Peter, we have to give him some credit for taking it on the chin.

See, most scholars agree Mark got the details of his book from Peter. That little fact makes me smile. It means Peter wasn't afraid to make himself look silly. He tells Mark to put this embarrassing incident at the center of the story.

Peter could have easily said, "I'm out!" after Jesus reprimanded him. But he kept following Jesus, even though he was confused. And eventually, he understood that Jesus came to achieve victory not through power but through suffering.

So, when do you have to be reminded that good news is good news?

When the path to it is winding and paved with suffering.

Next week, we'll dive into Mark chapter 1. But as we start this new year, let's reflect on Jesus' version of "success." It's a success not defined by how much we win, but by how much we're willing to lose for the sake of others.

Questions to Ponder:

This week, if time allows, try to read the whole book of Mark. Where are the places you see Jesus taking on the role of a servant?

What goals do you have for the new year? How would having Jesus' view of "success" change the way you seek to achieve them?

If you enjoyed this article, click here to get 5 free chapters of my new devotional book.