Abstract
I
The major contributions of this book are threefold. First, Jacobsen displays a consistent appreciation for the apocalyptic ethos out of which Mark is crafted: “apocalyptic mystery is always lurking in the gospel and encouraging preachers to think deeply, theologically, about what the gospel means today” (p. 59). Second, as a parish pastor, I particularly appreciate his frequent wrestling with the limitations that the lectionary often places, not only on preachers, but on the church’s hearing of the full and rich witness of the first Gospel. Commenting on the lectionary’s omission of Mark’s story of the Gerasene demoniac in 5:1−20, Jacobsen wisely observes: “Its absence is regrettable, in part because this exorcism story embodies so much of how Mark understands this apocalyptic gospel in the shadow of empire” (p. 76). Third, Jacobsen has a keen and homiletically appropriate sensitivity to how language functions across contexts. A key example is his recognition of the contemporary problem posed by Mark’s use of blindness as a metaphor for the disciples’ inability to grasp the teaching and person of Jesus: “For hearers with blindness, such an equivalence is an extra burden for living a full life” (p. 115).
Jacobsen’s scholarship is particularly illuminating when wrestling with some of the more obscure or troublesome passages from Mark’s Gospel. An example is his interpretation of the “get behind me” language of Jesus to Peter in Caesarea Philippi: “This phrase does not just mean ‘get out of my face,’ but also tries to restore Peter to his proper place: behind Jesus, as a follower . . . as a disciple and not a teacher to Jesus” (p. 122).
The commentary is more heavily weighted toward exegesis than homiletics, and I regret how often Jacobsen perpetuates an older reading of Mark’s literary skills as “clumsy.” In my view, Mark’s narrative is anything but, and I hope that those who preach from this Gospel will discover the same. That said, I will look forward to engaging this commentary in years ahead.