A Narratological Re-examination of John Mark’s Departure from the First Missionary Journey in Light of Lukan Name-Structures

Abstract

Acts 13:13 describes one of the most puzzling events of the nascent Christian Church—John Mark’s departure from Paul’s first missionary journey (Acts 13:1–14:28). Although Luke appears to offer no details on the motive for John Mark’s actions, this study argues that Luke did not remain completely silent on this issue. Through a distinctive literary strategy, Luke depicted John Mark as an evolving character, thus pointing the informed first century Christian reader to the reason for his departure at Perga. To wit, this article proposes that, because John Mark’s departure was driven by theological differences with Paul, based on his view that the Gentiles could not live sanctified lives apart from submission to certain ceremonial Second-Temple idiosyncrasies, Luke contextualized John Mark’s progression towards embracing the Gentile mission by using four variant Markan name-structures as literary emblems of his missiological evolution. In light of Paul’s pro-Gentile mission, affirmed at the Jerusalem Council (Acts 15), the rift between Paul and his young co-laborer, likely theological in nature, may have manifested itself upon their arrival at Paphos and subsequent voyage to Perga in Pamphylia.

Keywords

Luke-Acts John Mark Name-Structures Characterization Acts 13:13

Introduction

In approximately AD 48, the Apostle Paul, his coworker Barnabas, and John Mark, boarded a ship at Seleucia and headed for Cyprus to initiate what is now known as the first Pauline missionary journey. During this mission, an unexpected setback occurred—John Mark left Paul and Barnabas, shortly after their arrival at Perga in Pamphylia, and returned to Jerusalem. Although cautious circumvention has been a common approach when interpreting this issue, primarily because of Luke’s presumed silence, it is possible that Luke did not leave his readers completely devoid of textual clues that illuminate the context of this event. John Mark, more commonly referenced as simply “Mark,” is a multifaceted biblical character who claims the privilege of having worked alongside the two great pillars of the early church: Peter and Paul.¹ He is first introduced in Jerusalem, within the narrative of Peter, where believers were gathered in his mother’s home (12:12). Here, Mark’s introduction into the narrative is notable for three reasons. First, he is introduced at the literary seam where Luke shifts his focus from Peter’s ministry, and the events in Jerusalem, with Paul’s ministry and the missionary events sourced at Antioch. Second, Mark appears situated in the largely conservative (and predominantly Hebrew) church in Jerusalem immediately preceding his joining with Paul and Barnabas and the unfolding Gentile mission. Thirdly, and most relevant to this study, is the introduction of Luke’s sequence of name-structures for Mark, using both his Hebrew and Latin names as literary indicators for his missiological transition towards eventual espousal of the new faith-based Gentile movement.

As Peter was called to the Jews, so Paul was called to the Gentiles (Gal 2:7). In Acts, Luke presents Mark as one of the few characters who flows between the ministries of these two men. In various scenes, he is found praying for Peter’s release in Jerusalem (Acts 12:12), ministering with Paul and Barnabas at Antioch (12:25), assisting on the first missionary journey to Asia Minor (13:5), returning to the Jerusalem church (13:13), likely watching from behind the scenes at the Jerusalem Council (15:1–29), and returning to Cyprus with Barnabas (15:39). In these scenes, Mark appears to function as a bridge between the Jewish and Gentile worlds and, perhaps for this reason, Luke placed Mark at the crux of the Jewish-Gentile controversy that occupies so much of his focus in Acts. As such, Mark’s “departure” in Acts 13:13 is striking, namely, because Luke would seem to give no reason to his readers for Mark’s defection.²

Mark’s departure appears surprisingly out of character, especially when compared with his actions both before, and after, the event.³ Amazingly, as suddenly as he departed the first mission, Mark was eager to rejoin Paul and Barnabas on their second incursion into Asia! Thus, it appears Luke was informing his readers that something noteworthy had occurred to Mark that motivated him to resume his ministry among the Gentiles. What conditions could yield such radical behavior in an otherwise consistent missionary? Luke’s apparent restraint in offering direct explication for Mark’s withdrawal from the first mission may hint at the “rhetorical environment,”⁴ in which his readers were likely already aware of the circumstances surrounding his departure, thus not requiring a direct explanation. Nonetheless, Luke’s seemingly casual reference to this critical Markan event has created a sort of impasse in NT scholarship, and a presumption that echoes Thomas Campbell’s warning, “Where the Scriptures speak, we speak; and where the Scriptures are silent, we are silent.”⁵ However, from a narratological perspective, Luke appears to leave “indirect” literary clues linking Mark to the unfolding Gentile outreach.⁶

Prior to Paul’s first missiological venture, Gentiles had been admitted into the Jewish faith through a process known as “proselytization,” the practice of Jewish conversion through ritual mikvah washings,⁷ and submission to certain aspects of the Mosaic Law, including circumcision, dietary food restrictions and observance of Jewish holidays.⁸ It is also evident that the gospel message had been preached to Gentiles prior to Paul’s first missionary incursion into Asia Minor (Acts 8:26–40; 11:20). Yet, what readers do not see, at least not formally, is direct evangelism to the Gentiles apart from submission to elements of the Mosaic Law. Although Peter’s witness to Cornelius and his household opened the door for Gentile outreach (10:34–48), Mark was not a direct witness to this event, nor was Peter ever called as an apostle to the Gentiles. However, what was initiated through Peter became a precedent for Paul.

It is notable that Luke’s first reference to Gentile evangelism, free and clear of the requirements of proselytization, occurs only after Mark departed from the first mission (13:46). Immediately after Mark left for Jerusalem, Paul and Barnabas began their new evangelistic work to the Gentiles, and this may not be a coincidence. Interestingly, Mark returned to Jerusalem and not Antioch, the church that commissioned their missionary journey. This detail offers two literary clues. First, Mark’s return to Jerusalem signals a break in protocol, and one that suggests an abandonment of the mission altogether.⁹ Second, this detail may explain why the Judean leaders seemed aware of Paul’s activities in Asia, and why they were so disposed to receive Paul and Barnabas at Antioch upon their return (15:1).

Luke describes the dissension that continued to build over the requirements of Gentile membership and the qualifications for Jewish-Gentile table fellowship within the Christian church, until it eventually climaxed at the Jerusalem Council (Acts 15). So also, the Jerusalem Council’s decision to accept the Gentiles without requirements of the Mosaic Law may have motivated Mark to return with Paul and Barnabas on their second journey. As such, Luke may not have intended for Mark’s departure to serve as merely a parenthetical note in the narrative, but as an example of how Jewish Believers might come to understand and embrace the unfolding outreach to the Gentiles. Paul’s disapproval of Mark’s rejoining the missionary team suggests that Mark disapproved of the first mission’s objectives (15:37–40); and this conclusion appears consistent with Mark’s depiction, primarily in Luke’s application of name-structures, where his character is forged “at a moment of crisis.”¹⁰ Nonetheless, before examining Luke’s name-structures, a brief review of the most prominent theories behind Mark’s departure is in order.

Proposed Theories Behind John Mark’s Departure

Proposed theories as to why Mark departed from the first Pauline mission are varied, including the idea that Mark’s departure was due to his unwillingness to be exposed to perils,¹¹ that he disapproved of Paul’s assumed leadership over Barnabas,¹² or that Mark was likely of a wealthy household and was not ready for the arduous travel itinerary.¹³ William Ramsay theorized that Paul contracted malaria when they arrived at Pamphylia, forcing him to alter his plans and head for higher ground to Antioch, and it was this change of plans that caused Mark to abandon the journey since “the new proposal was a departure from the scheme with which they had been charged.”¹⁴ Other scholars have refuted the idea that Mark’s departure was theologically motivated, noting that it “does not square with the undisputed fact that his Gospel was written primarily for Romans,”¹⁵ but this view discounts the possibility of the transformative effects of the Holy Spirit in the life of Mark, considering the events described in Acts 13:13 occurred at the onset of his ministry, while his Gospel was written towards the latter end of his career, after years of exposure to the Gentile mission.

Recent NT scholarship now posits the view that Mark’s departure was based, not so much on external circumstances, but on the theological variances that existed between Mark’s doctrinal views and Paul’s new Gentile agenda during the first missionary journey. For example, John McRay argues that, although Barnabas was in charge of the mission to Cyprus, which was more Jewish-oriented, “Mark may have become dissatisfied when Paul took the lead and projected a dangerous and unplanned extension of their mission among the Gentiles of southern Galatia.”¹⁶ R. J. Knowling suggests, “Paul’s preaching to the Gentiles may have been too liberal for him,”¹⁷ suggesting the newly assumed Gentile agenda ran crossways with Mark’s more traditional Jewish ideology. Paul’s new mission to the Gentiles may have been too radical for Mark, a man who, up to that point, identified primarily as a Jerusalemite. Richard Longenecker notes, “Mark may have been concerned about the effect news of a direct Christian mission to Gentiles would have in Jerusalem and on the church there and may have wanted to have no part in it.”¹⁸ Perhaps Mark’s protest led him to report to the Jerusalem Church on Paul’s activities, thus inciting a debate that would later unravel at Antioch. If Mark was more aligned with the conservative Jewish party, there may have been, according to William McBirnie, “a serious doctrinal difference with Paul based upon the fact that [Mark] was still a devout Jew, and at that time unable to accept the doctrine of faith for salvation.”¹⁹ John Stott poses perhaps the most striking question:

Did [Mark], as a loyal member of Jerusalem’s conservative Jewish church, disagree with Paul’s bold policy of Gentile evangelism? Was it even he who, on his return to Jerusalem, provoked the Judaizers into opposing Paul?²⁰

The strength of Stott’s question is found in its probing of what would otherwise seem to be inexplicable behavior on the part of Mark. Longenecker suggests the conversion of Sergius Paulus at Cyprus may have initiated the discussion of a direct approach to the Gentiles, and that “John Mark’s departure was because he disagreed with Paul [and] it was his return to… Jerusalem that may originally have stirred the ‘Judaizers’ in the church to action.”²¹

A primary clue behind Mark’s abandonment of the first mission is found in Acts 15:38, when Paul and Barnabas separate over their disagreement whether to take Mark with them on the second missionary journey. Here, Luke states that Paul refused to take Mark because he “had not gone with them to do the work (ἔργον).” Here, the term ἔργον appears directly connected to “the work” for which Paul and Barnabas were set apart at their initial commissioning (13:2), which suggests “that ‘the work’ in which Mark refused to participate was the mission to the Gentiles.”²² These proposals not only offer a viable explanation for Mark’s defection, but they also provide the context for the proposed Lukan name-structures that are interconnected within the narrative.

Names as Ancient Biblical Characterization Devices

Name changes are both common and theologically purposeful in the biblical canon. In the OT, characters such as Abram (Gen 17:5), Sarai (17:15), and Jacob (32:28) were renamed directly by God as Abraham, Sarah and Israel, respectively; while others, such as Joseph (Gen 41:45) and Daniel (Dan 1:7) were renamed as Zaphenath-Paneah and Belteshazzar, by their foreign oppressors.²³ Hoshea was renamed as Joshua by Moses (Num 13:16) and, in a rare occasion, Naomi renamed herself as Mara in response to her misfortune (Ruth 1:20). Similarly, in the NT, Cephas (or Simon) is renamed as Peter by Jesus (Matt 16:18). In the preceding cases, a certain pattern emerges,²⁴ in which the name change reflects a change in characterization, or even the context.²⁵

The use of nicknames, or antonomasia, the “substitution of an epithet or title for a proper name,”²⁶ are also common to Scripture.²⁷ Jesus called Herod “a fox,” alluding to his “craftiness or slyness” (Luke 13:32).²⁸ Jesus referred to John and James as Boanerges (“Sons of Thunder”), which gave Mark’s readers a clue about their impulsive nature (Mark 3:17).²⁹ Even the name Barnabas, which means “Son of Encouragement,” was a nickname given to Joseph of Cyprus by the apostles (Acts 4:36).³⁰ In these examples, the designated names contribute to the readers’ understanding of a character’s depiction, and this literary tool appears consistent with Luke’s writing style as well.³¹ However, in the case of John Mark (and Paul), the application of varied name-structures using genuine alternative names appears completely unique to Luke.³²

John Darr argues that approaches to characterization should not assume a “static conception of a character [but] follow the reader’s successive construction and assessment of that character while reading the text.”³³ Additionally, Darr cautions:

Because character is cumulative, it is essential that we be cognizant at all times of the degree to which a character or a character group has been constructed at each point along the text continuum. Too often, interpreters of Lukan character have failed to take sequence and accumulation seriously.³⁴

As such, Luke’s successive construction of name-structures allow readers the opportunity to connect John Mark’s development to their situated contexts. Anticipating the question of whether connecting a character’s name to their context is overreaching, readers are reminded that a proper analysis of ancient characters requires ancient approaches. Cornelis Bennema notes that, when analyzing characters in ancient and modern literature, a notable difference is that “in ancient literature there is less direct characterization and readers must resort to the device of inference or gap-filling more than they would in modern literature.”³⁵

Lukan Name-Structures

In the Book of Acts, Luke interposes variant versions of John Mark’s name, based on his Hebrew name Ἰωάννης (“God has shown favor”), and Latin name Μᾶρκος, throughout his narrative.³⁶ When readers compare this sequence in relation to the progressive characterization of Mark, the pattern is even more impressive. The proposed implication is that, in each contextual setting, the specified name-structure is indicative of Mark’s missional evolution towards embracing the emergent Gentile mission. As such, Luke’s application of Markan name-structures can be categorized in four sets:

“John, whose other name was Mark” (Ἰωάννην τὸν ἐπικληθέντα Μᾶρκον) (12:12, 25)

“John” (Ἰωάννης) (13:5, 13)

“John called Mark” (Ἰωάννην τὸν καλούμενον Μᾶρκον) (15:37)

“Mark” (Μᾶρκος) (Acts 15:39)

Although it may seem reasonable that Luke used two names for Mark because he wanted “to distinguish between characters in the Third Gospel and Acts who share a common name,”³⁷ the variations of John Mark’s name (particularly when only the name John is used in Acts13:5, 13) are counterproductive to this aim.³⁸

1. “John, whose other name was Mark” (Ἰωάννην τὸν ἐπικληθέντα Μᾶρκον)

In his opening descriptor, Luke identifies Mark as “John, whose other name was Mark” (Acts 12:12). This reference serves as an indicator of how Luke intended his readers to first view Mark. During this introduction, Mark is at his mother’s house in Jerusalem, most likely a home church, praying for the release of Peter with other Christians. He is possibly under Peter’s discipleship, a man called primarily to the Jews (Gal 2:7). Mark was also the cousin of Barnabas (Col 4:10), a man of rank in the Jerusalem church (Acts 11:22–24). Although Luke refers to Mark by both names at this opening stage, he does not use the simple combination of “John Mark.” Rather, the Hebrew name Ἰωάννης is prioritized over its Roman counterpart, Μᾶρκος, as “John, whose other name was Mark.”³⁹ This again occurs in his second reference, when Peter and Barnabas return to Antioch from Jerusalem and take along with them “John, whose other name was Mark” (12:25). Both references occur before Mark embarks on the first missionary journey and, at this initial stage, Luke may be implying that, although John Mark possesses both a Hebrew and Gentile name, his characterization is primarily Hebrew.

“John” ( Ἰωάννης)

When Paul, Barnabas and Mark depart from Antioch on their first mission into Asia, Luke refers to Mark only by his Hebrew name of “John,” noting that Paul and Barnabas “had John to assist them” (Acts 13:5).⁴⁰ When Mark departs from the mission at Perga, he again is referred to only as “John,” who “left them and returned to Jerusalem” (13:13). It is notable that, of the only two times that Luke identifies John Mark as simply “John,” it is both at the start of the first Pauline missionary journey and the lowest point of his ministerial career—his departure from that same mission.⁴¹ The Gentile name of Μᾶρκος is nowhere to be found.⁴² Only the Hebrew name Ἰωάννης appears as an active character identifier.⁴³ The name-structure implies that, at this point in the narrative, Mark is acting solely through the prism of his Hebrew identity. If so, then Mark’s departure may have been motivated by his disagreement with Paul’s unfolding mission to the Gentiles, which may have also prompted him to give a “negative report” of Paul’s activities to the Jerusalem leadership.⁴⁴

“John called Mark” ( Ἰωάννην τὸν καλούμενον Μᾶρκον)

Upon his return to Jerusalem, Mark would likely have heard Peter’s report of the miracle of glossolalia that occurred at the home of the Gentile, Cornelius. It is also likely that Mark attended the Jerusalem Council (Acts 15), where he heard the testimony of his mentor (Peter), the endorsement of James (the undisputed leader of the Jerusalem Church), and the decision to support the Gentile cause without the traditional requirements of Jewish proselytization. After the Jerusalem Council, Mark was suddenly eager to rejoin a mission that he had abandoned only recently. It is at this juncture that Luke refers to Mark by the slightly modified form, “John called Mark” (Acts 15:37).⁴⁵ This structure is dissimilar to the way Mark is referenced earlier (12:12, 25). Readers will note that Luke uses the participle form of καλέω (not ἐπικαλέω) to indicate that the individual here is “called by, addressed as, or designated” by both names.⁴⁶ This feature implies that his Hebrew identity, indicated by the name Ἰωάννης, is no longer prioritized, since he is now equally identified by both names. The context implies that, since the time of his departure from the first mission, a shift has occurred in Mark’s missiological views. If the events at the Jerusalem Council led Mark to embrace the new and uninhibited mission to the Gentiles, this feature would sufficiently explain Luke’s usage of this particular name-structure.

“Mark” (Μᾶρκος)

The most stunning name change occurs after John Mark departs with Barnabas and returns to Cyprus (Acts 15:39). Hereafter, Mark is referred to only by his Gentile name of Μᾶρκος by all who reference him, including Luke (Acts), Paul (Col 4:10; Phlm 1:24; 2 Tim 4:11), and even Peter (1 Pet 5:13). Here, Furlong agrees that “possibly the use of the Roman ‘Mark’ rather than the Jewish ‘John’ which had been employed prior to the council of Jerusalem indicates his acceptance of a role in the Gentile mission.”⁴⁷ This narratological pattern suggests that the missiological evolution in the character of Mark, depicted in Acts, was a historical event that was affirmed by all who co-labored with him. This is not to suggest that Mark cast away his Jewishness or ceased his evangelization to the Jews, simply because the name Ἰωάννης is no longer used. Rather, Luke appears to reveal, in Mark, a man who now fully embraces Christ’s mission to both Jews and Gentiles. From this perspective, Luke’s broader use of Markan name-structures in his narrative does not appear random, but literarily measured to reflect Mark’s missiological progression during the course of his ministry.

Conclusion

Concerning the exegetical challenges that biblical scholars face in interpreting more succinct texts, Robert Alter keenly notes that, although “biblical narrative is often silent where later modes of fiction will choose to be loquacious, it is selectively silent in a purposeful way.”⁴⁸ As such, Alter proposes that the ancient biblical writers “worked out a set of new and surprisingly supple techniques for the imaginative representation of human individuality.”⁴⁹ Through the creative application of name-structures in Acts, Luke appears to affirm Alter’s thesis. If Luke’s literary use of variant name formulas was not intended to represent an evolving missiological mindset in the character of Mark, then one must account for what would otherwise appear to be ad hoc variations. Through these literary mechanisms, Luke constructs Mark more than just as a purely historical figure, but as a literary symbol of the Jewish evolution towards embracing the Gentile evangelistic mission.⁵⁰ Such silence is understandable if Luke did not want Mark’s ministerial “blemish” to overshadow the success of the first Pauline mission.⁵¹ As such, Martin Hengel notes:

So, we cannot even claim without further ado, as is the habit of so many scholars today, that Luke only knew what he reported about the early period of Christianity. He certainly knew a good deal more than he put down; when he is silent about something, there are usually special reasons for it. Only by this strict limitation of his material can he ‘put his heroes in the right perspective.’⁵²

Considering that Luke and Mark were contemporaries, it is reasonable that Luke would not detail the circumstances surrounding Mark’s departure because, by the time of the writing of Acts,⁵³ Mark had already redeemed and restored himself with Paul (Col 4:10). Additionally, Luke’s readers were likely already familiar with the events surrounding Mark’s departure, and the providing of such details in Acts would have appeared awkward and redundant.

What, then, should readers make of Luke’s characterization of Mark? What macro-function does Mark play in the stream of Acts’ storyline? From a narrative-critical perspective, Mark represents the first-century Jewish Christian who was hesitant to accept the new Gentile mission. Throughout the story, Mark evolves, from a “wayward attaché,”⁵⁴ with a narrow vision of God’s salvific grace, to the faithful missionary that eventually penned the gospel that now bears his name.⁵⁵ Thus, Luke did not want to over-emphasize the implications of his departure from the first Pauline mission, because Mark’s story did not cease on the shores of Perga. Certainly, the NT reveals that whatever differences Paul and Mark may have had were healed in time (Col. 4:10–11; 2 Tim. 4:11; Phlm. 24). Although each of Luke’s “heroes,” stumble within his chronicle, they each stand as a microcosm of how God’s salvation history works—a perfect God working through imperfect people.

Footnotes

Author’s Note

Erbey Valdez is Senior Pastor at New Spirit Church, San Antonio, TX. He holds a PhD in NT Biblical Studies from Columbia International University, South Carolina. He may be contacted at erbeyvaldez@gmail.com.

1

Mark’s apostolic connection with Peter is open to debate. For example, C. Clifton Black argues that the NT “does not permit us to clinch a theological connection between Mark and Peter.” See Mark: Images of an Apostolic Interpreter, SPNT, ed. D. Moody Smith (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2001), 5.

2

Although the common translation of the aorist verb ἀποχωρέω is “left” (ESV, NASB, NIV), or “departed” (KJV, NKJV), the synchronic definition is more emphatic, meaning to “desert” (Sb. 7835, 14; 3 Macc. 2:33), or even an “intentional withdrawal” (1 En. 14:23; 2 Macc. 4:33). Of the only three NT uses of ἀποχωρέω, Luke uses the term twice (Luke 9:39; Acts 13:13), while Matthew uses the term only once (Matt 7:23). Aside from Luke’s intended meaning in Acts, the other two references (Matt 7:23; Luke 9:39) also carry a more emphatic meaning. See BDAG, 3^rd ed., 125. A diachronic analysis of ἀποχωρέω yields similar results. Aside from its meaning to “go away from” (Ar. Ach. 456; Pl. R. 394a), it can also specifically apply to the running away of slaves (P. Cair. Zen. 15v.41), and even the withdrawal or “dissent from opinions” (Gal. 15.356; cf. Arr. Epict. 4.1.53). See A Greek-English Lexicon, ed. H. G. Liddell and R. Scott (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996), 228. An additional textual clue is found in Acts 15:38, where Paul and Barnabas have a “sharp disagreement,” severe enough to cause Paul to consider Mark disqualified for a second journey. This would imply that, whatever intention Mark had for leaving them at Perga, Paul had not agreed with the decision. Luke here describes Paul’s interpretation of Mark’s actions, not as merely an act of “leaving” (ἀποχωρέω), but uses the participle form of the verb ἀφίστημι, meaning a deliberate “withdrawal,” or even “desertion.” Syntactically, the contrastive conjunction δὲ also lends semantic force to the phrase, for it anticipates the connected phrase as contrasting, or oppositional, to the phrase that precedes it. See Daniel B. Wallace, Greek Grammar: Beyond the Basics, (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996), 671. As such, Luke appears to imply that Mark’s departure not only interrupted the flow of the mission, but was even oppositional to its purpose.

3

E. M. Forster’s categorizations for “flat” and “round” characters influenced much of the literary criterion for characterization studies in the past century (1927). Forster argued that the “test of a round character is whether it is capable of surprising in a convincing way.” See Aspects of the Novel, (New York: Harcourt, 1955), 78. Cornelis Bennema adds that a character’s “development occurs when a new trait replaces an old one or does not fit neatly into the existing set of traits, implying that the character has changed. This coheres with Forster’s criterion of a character’s ability to surprise the reader. As such, Mark appears to both surprise his readers and demonstrate character development with both his unexpected departure at Perga (Acts 13:13) and return to the mission field (15:36–39). See A Theory of Character in New Testament Narrative (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014), 76.

4

The “rhetorical environment” describes the socio-cultural setting for which a text is written, including “factors that lie beyond the immediate context.” See Patricia K. Tull, “Rhetorical Criticism and Intertextuality,” in To Each its Own Meaning: An Introduction to Biblical Criticisms and their Application, ed. Steven L. McKenzie & Stephen R. Haynes (Louisville: Westminster Press, 1999), 167.

5

Earl Irvin West, The Search for the Ancient Order: A History of the Restoration Movement 1800–1865, Vol. I (Carmel: Religious Book Service, 1990), 47. Black notes, although “imaginative restraint and critical skepticism have become the order of the day . . . the principle of honest uncertainty cuts in both directions, not only toward the maximal reconstructions of Mark but also toward their minimalist reconsiderations.” See Mark, 9–10.

6

Shimon Bar-Efrat notes “there is more indirect than direct shaping of characters in biblical narrative and therefore the burden of characterization falls primarily on this [indirect] method.” See Narrative Art in the Bible, (New York: T&T Clark, 2008), 64. See also, Bennema, A Theory of Character, 57.

7

Mikvahs were baths used in Orthodox Judaism for the purpose of ritual purification, including as a purification rite for proselytes. The numerous mikva’ot excavated around Jerusalem by archaeologists, with most dating from the mid-second century BC to the first century AD, reveal their importance to Second Temple Judaism. See “Mikvah,” The Lexham Bible Dictionary, ed. J. D. Barry, D. Bomar, D. R. Brown, R. Klippenstein, D. Mangum, C. Sinclair Wolcott, W. Widder (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2016).

8

See “Proselytism and Godfearers” in Dictionary of New Testament Background, ed. Craig A. Evans and Stanley Porter (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2000), 835–47.

9

Craig Keener considers Mark’s departure in Acts 13:13 as “noteworthy,” and notes that, from a rabbinical standpoint, “abandoning a mentor was also viewed as a form of unfaithfulness.” See Acts: An Exegetical Commentary, 3 vols. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2013), vol. 2, 2030.

10

In his work on “interdividuality,” David McCracken engages the works of Bakhtin to discuss how biblical characters are formed in “moments of dramatic interaction,” and primarily “at a moment of crisis.” See “Character in the Boundary: Bakhtin’s Interdividuality in Biblical Narratives” in Characterization in Biblical Literature, Semeia 63, ed. Elizabeth Struthers Malbon and Adele Berlin (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 1993), 29–42.

11

Although A. T. Robertson admits John Mark may not have agreed with the change in plans after Paul’s assumed leadership and perhaps did not approve of Paul’s “aggressive attitude towards the heathen,” he concludes that Mark’s unwillingness to be exposed to perils was his main motivation for departure, based on 2 Cor. 11:26. See The Acts of the Apostles, Word Pictures in the New Testament, vol. III (Nashville: Broadman Press, 1930, 185.

12

F. F. Bruce, The Book of Acts, NICNT, ed. Gordon D. Fee (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1988), 251.

13

Louis Barbieri, Mark, Moody Gospel Commentary (Chicago: Moody Press, 1995), 15.

14

William M. Ramsay, St. Paul: The Traveler and Roman Citizen, ed. Mark Wilson (Grand Rapids: Kregel Publications, 2001), 85-86.

15

John Pollock, The Apostle: A Life of Paul (Colorado Springs: ChariotVictor Publishing, 1985), 75.

16

John McRay, Paul: His Life and Teaching (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2004), 119.

17

R. J. Knowling, The Acts of the Apostles, Expositor’s Greek Testament, vol. 2 (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1983), 289.

18

Richard N. Longenecker, The Acts of the Apostles, Expositor’s Bible Commentary, vol. 9, ed. Frank E. Gaebelein (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1981), 421.

19

William S. McBirnie, The Search for the Twelve Apostles, rev. ed. (Carol Stream: Tyndale Momentum, 2004), 194.

20

John R. W. Stott, The Message of Acts: The Spirit, the Church & the World, ed. John R. W. Stott (Downers Grove: Inter-Varsity Press, 1990), 221.

21

Longenecker, The Acts of the Apostles, 421.

22

R. Alan Culpepper, “Paul’s Mission to the Gentile World: Acts 13–19,” RevExp 71(1974): 487–97. See also, Black, Mark, 40.

23

Keener notes that, in the OT, “naming a person signified authority over them (Gen 2:19; 17:5; 19:39; 25:26, 36; cf. Luke 6:13–14).” See Acts, vol. 2, 1180.

24

Here, the term “pattern” is borrowed from Bennema’s description, as a “discernible regularity” or “perceptible structure,” which is useful for the study of character in NT narrative. See A Theory of Character, 24.

25

Characterization is here defined as the way in which the author intended to portray a character to their original audience. In the cases of Abraham, Sarah and Israel, the name change appears connected to YHWH’s covenantal promise. In the cases of Joseph and Daniel, foreign oppressors attempt to redefine their identity in a foreign land, while Joshua’s name change points to his election as the successive leader of Israel. Similarly, Jesus appears to set Peter apart as leader of the Twelve after his proclamation that Jesus is the Son of God.

26

See “antonomasia,” Oxford Dictionary of English, 3^rd ed., ed. Angus Stevenson (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010), 70.

27

See Keener, who notes that nicknames are “widely attested” in ancient Palestine, and that the use of double names “were also standard in the culture [and] generally accepted as a part of venerable and seamless tradition by the apostolic period,” in Acts, vol. 1, 770.

28

John Nolland, Luke 9:21–18:34, vol. 35B, WBC, ed. David A. Hubbard and Glenn W. Barker (Dallas, TX: Word Books, 1993), 740.

29

See also, Stephen H. Smith, A Lion with Wings: A Narrative-Critical Approach to Mark’s Gospel, Biblical Seminar 38 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996), 54–5.

30

Keener, Acts, vol. 2, 1180.

31

Luke also applies variant name-structures for the Apostle Paul, as “Saul,” “Paul,” and “Saul who was also called Paul” (Σαῦλος δέ, ὁ καὶ Παῦλος). Paul was born a Roman citizen with both the Hebrew name of “Saul” (Σαῦλος) and the Roman/Latin name of “Paul” (Παῦλος) (See McRay, Paul, 26). Although it would seem logical to shift Saul’s name to “Paul” after his encounter with Jesus on the road to Damascus in Acts 9, Luke defers until Acts 13:13, precisely when John Mark departs at Perga and Paul initiates his Gentile ministry. Here, Luke appears to connect Paul’s name, not so much with his conversion on the road to Damascus, but rather with the realization of his new mission to evangelize to the Gentiles. However, before Luke shifts to the exclusive use of Παῦλος in v. 13, he refers to Paul, in v. 9, as “Saul, who was also called Paul,” (Σαῦλος δέ, ὁ καὶ Παῦλος). This is the only time Luke uses this name-structure for Paul, and it is notable that it occurs within the context of Paul’s first Gentile convert—the proconsul, Sergius Paulus. Although this name pattern appears to reflect the same formula Luke uses for Mark in Acts 12:12 and 12:25, the absence of the verbal form of ἐπικαλέω should not be ignored. John Harvey notes that, since δε is postpositive in this formula, a translation such as “But Saul—also/indeed/even Paul—(who was) filled with the Holy Spirit …” seems appropriate, considering whether και is adjunctive (“also”), emphatic (“indeed”), or ascensive (“even”). (Via email on August 31, 2020). Here, Luke intends to illustrate that Paul, like Mark, was also experiencing his own evolution in his ministry, but one that Paul was all too ready to embrace in Acts 13:13. Hence, the unified name of “Paul” symbolizes a man ready to preach to both Jew and Gentile alike, where all the former banners of race, gender, and social status dissipate under the banner of Christ.

32

In response to Tal Ilan’s exclusion of secondary names in her publication, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity (2002), Richard Bauckham argues that both the Hebrew and Latin names for John Mark should be recorded statistically because each is “genuinely a name.” See Jesus and the Eyewitness: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 2006), 69.

33

John A. Darr, On Character Building: The Reader and the Rhetoric of Characterization in Luke-Acts (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 1992), 42.

34

Ibid.

35

Emphasis retained. Bennema, A Theory of Character, 57.

36

See Margaret H. Williams, “Palestinian Jewish Personal Names in Acts,” in The Book of Acts in its Palestinian Setting, ed. Richard Bauckham, vol. 4, BAFCS (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995), 79–113. Williams notes that, although secondary names were rarely used among Jews in the Diaspora, “they were a virtual necessity” in Palestine “because so many people tended to have the same first name” (106).

37

Black, Mark, 27.

38

Although scholars such as Johannes Weiss suggest the use of the secondary name “Mark” was used to distinguish between John Mark and John of Zebedee because Mark was likely more well known by the readers as John, it does not explain why Luke applied variations of Mark’s name. See Das Älteste Evangelium: Ein Beitrag zum Verständnis des Markus-Evangeliums und der Ältesten Evangelischen Uberlieferung (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1903), 385–86. See also, Dean Furlong, The John also called Mark: Reception and Transformation in Christian Tradition, Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament, 2. Reihe, no. 518, ed. Jörg Frey (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2020), 8.

39

Although the verbal form ἐπικαλέω suggests the name “Mark,” is a surname to “John,” Furlong correctly notes this is not the case, but that “Mark was an alternative name that he used in addition to John.” See The John also called Mark, 3; cf. “ἐπικαλέω,” in William F. Arndt, W., Danker, F. W., Bauer, W., & Gingrich, F. W. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, 3rd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000), 373.

40

Here, the term ὑπηρέτης is applied, as Black suggests, “in the most neutral terms possible: John Mark was simply at the disposal of Barnabas and Saul.” See Mark, 33.

41

Noting that “the hypothesis that [Mark] was not willing to participate in Paul’s mission to the Gentiles has much to commend it,” Culpepper also notes that, in this scene, “Luke uses [only] Mark’s Hebrew name, John.” See “Paul’s Mission to the Gentile World,” 488.

42

C. Clifton Black notes “the potential ambiguity” of Luke’s reference to Mark as merely “John” in these two scenes and proposes it “may be suggestive of Luke’s own preference for Mark’s Hebrew name or of his assumption that it was by that name that this figure was better known among the readership in Acts.” See Mark, 30.

43

Interestingly, Adolf Deissmann, admits that Luke’s usage of the single name “John” in Acts 13:13 “has been used purposely,” yet offers no clear indication of what that purpose might be. He later suggests that his usage of only “Mark” in Acts 15:39 “may be accidental or on purpose.” On the contrary, Luke would not be so inconsistent. The textual evidence seems to favor both a literary design and a rhetorical element behind this phenomenon. See Bible Studies (Charleston: BiblioBazaar, 2010), 317.

44

Furlong, The John also called Mark, 9.

45

It is possible that καλούμενον may be understood as a middle verb (direct reflexive), “John who called himself Mark.” As such, it would suggest that, at this point in the narrative, Mark was beginning to assume the Gentile name and personally identifying with the Gentile mission.

46

BDAG, 502.

47

Furlong, The John also called Mark, 10.

48

Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, 2011), 144.

49

Ibid.

50

Black correctly notes that the NT references to Mark “serve purposes that are essentially literary or, one might say, rhetorical: they assist the writers in making or in supporting certain persuasive points that, while not of necessity historically irrelevant, are not coterminous with strictly historical preoccupations.” See Mark, 26.

51

Black concurs that the apparently “underdeveloped quality” of Acts 15:36–40 “might suggest Luke’s discomfiture at airing this portion of early Christianity’s ‘dirty linen’ (particularly as it involves two heroic apostles).” See Mark, 39.

52

Emphasis added. Hengel, Acts and the History of Earliest Christianity, 36.

53

Keener’s proposal that the dating of Acts (circa AD 70) should be centered around the lifetime of the author is the view adopted here. See Acts, vol. 1, 383–401.

54

Black, Mark, 25.

55

Although it is widely believed that the John Mark depicted in Acts is the author of the Second Gospel, it is certainly not universal. For example, Furlong proposes that three separate and independent Markan traditions arose that distinguished between the Judean John/Mark described in Acts, Mark the Evangelist who wrote the Second Gospel, and Mark of Alexandria. See The John also called Mark, 7–22; cf. Black, Mark, 25.