An Intercalation Revisited: Christology,Discipleship,and Dramatic Irony in Mark 6.6b-30

The Hermeneutical Function of Markan Intercalations

Before undertaking an exegetical analysis of Mk 6.6b-30, one must determine the hermeneutical function of intercalations generally. Each instance of the technique conforms to an A¹-B-A² structure where a self-contained story (B) is flanked by the segmented pieces of another story (A¹ and A²) (Shepherd 1995: 522; Wright 1985: 16; Edwards 2002: 11). ³ The interruption of the initial A story prompts the reader to suspend interpretation of that story until the B story is concluded and then the A story is concluded immediately thereafter. This structure is easily discernible, for example, in the healing of Jairus’s daughter and the woman with a flow of blood: Jairus beseeches Jesus to heal his ailing daughter in 5.21-24 (A¹), a woman with a flow of blood surreptitiously touches Jesus’ garment and is cured in vv. 25-34 (B), and Jesus arrives at Jairus’s house and resuscitates his daughter in vv. 35-43 (A²). The intercalation of ch. 6 is more difficult to demarcate, but most commentators agree on the following schema: the disciples depart on mission in vv. 6b-13 (A¹), John is beheaded in vv. 14-29 (B), and the disciples return in v. 30 (A²). ⁴

Scholars have struggled to agree, however, on the hermeneutical function of Markan intercalations. According to Rhoads, Michie and Dewey, ‘the two paired episodes often repeat a common theme, one episode illuminating the theme by comparison or contrast with the other episode’ (Rhoads, Dewey and Michie 1999: 52). For Donahue (1973: 53-63), the interpretive key is much simpler; all intercalations evince the twin themes of suffering and discipleship. ⁵ Still others cite irony as the chief purpose of Markan sandwiches (Shepherd 1993: 329; van Oyen 1992: 964; Downing 2000: 107).

Despite these diverse claims, a growing number of scholars concur that the interwoven stories ‘are mutually interpretative: “the two related stories illuminate and enrich each other, commenting on and clarifying the meaning, one of the other”’ (Brown 2002: 79, citing Fowler 1991: 143; cf. Downing 2000: 107; Malbon 1992: 42). Hence, in my exposition of Mk 6.6b-30 below, I will operate on the assumption that the account of John the Baptist’s martyrdom and the story of the mission of the Twelve are interconnected, requiring an interpretation that makes sense of the sandwich as a whole. I will also entertain the other commonly accepted notion that irony is a key element in Markan intercalations, which I will demonstrate in the final section of this article. ⁶

Status Quaestionis on Mark 6.6b-30

Heretofore, scholarly exegesis of Mk 6.6b-30 has focused on the conclusion of the B story, taking John’s decapitation as its point of departure. In narrating the martyrdom of John, Mark foreshadows the grisly fate that will befall both Jesus and the Twelve. The parallels between Jesus and John are most striking, especially regarding the manner of their deaths. Both Jesus and John are prophetic voices who challenge the status quo and who educe unfavorable attention from political authorities in the process. Both meet their demise because a third party has found an ‘opportune time’ (εὔκαιρος) to plot their downfall (6.21; 14.11) (Marcus 2000: 401). ⁷ Both are seized (κρατέω) and bound (δέω) (6.17; 14.46; 15.1) (Gnilka 1978–1979: 249). Both are innocent victims who are unjustly executed (6.27; 15.24). Both are ‘are put to death by political rulers who recognize their goodness’ (Hooker 1991: 159) and who feel conflicted about terminating the life of a righteous man (6.20, 26; 15.6-14). In both cases, the ruler succumbs to public pressure and has the man killed (6.26-27; 15.15). After their deaths, Jesus and John both receive burial in a tomb (6.29; 15.46)—something that no other character receives in Mark’s Gospel. Finally, each is alleged to have risen from the dead (6.14-16; 16.6). In sum, John is truly a herald of the Christ, for he ‘has prepared “the way of the Lord” not only by preaching repentance and announcing the coming of “the stronger one” (1.2-8), but by preceding him in death’ (Heil 1992: 140). ⁸

The untimely death of John also prefigures what will happen to the disciples. Mark inserts the story of the Baptist’s martyrdom into the story of the mission of the Twelve in order to compel readers ‘to consider what John’s death means for discipleship and mission with Jesus’ (Edwards 2002: 176). Just as John encountered opposition and death as he sought to fulfill God’s will, so too will Jesus’ own followers. This connection between discipleship and adversity is reiterated throughout Mark’s Gospel (8.34-38; 10.38-39; 13.9-13), but in the present scene, the disciples are not hampered in any way. In fact, their inaugural mission is unequivocally positive. They are dispatched by Jesus to preach and to exorcise demons, and they do just that, returning to inform their master of their success (v. 30). But lest readers get the wrong idea about discipleship, Mark interrupts this vignette with a grim tale of someone whose mission leads to his assassination, thus creating a ‘sandwich structure [that] draws mission and martyrdom, discipleship and death, into an inseparable relationship’ (Edwards 2002: 189). The juxtaposition of the two stories has ‘a sobering effect’ on Mark’s audience (Powell 1998: 42), and a tale that would otherwise be cause for jubilation is now ‘dominated narratively by death and the whimsy of evil’ (Tolbert 1989: 197).

The intercalation of Mk 6.6b-30 also has ramifications beyond the characters involved. By means of the sandwich, the evangelist intertwines the fates of multiple personages, ‘link[ing] the ministries of Jesus, of his historical disciples, and of the Markan community. Each comes out or is sent out to preach (kēryssein: 1.14; 3.14; 6.12; 13.10). Each will meet failure and rejection in the mission’ (Donahue and Harrington 2002: 194). The Twelve will endure hardship later, but Mark’s audience learns the painful truth now about following Jesus: ‘discipleship will cost no less than everything’ (Moloney 2002: 128; cf. Waetjen 1989: 125; Malbon 1992: 41; Shepherd 1993: 344; Delorme 1998: 127; Byrne 2008: 113). John is the first to die for the sake of the gospel, but he will not be the last, nor will persecution end with the martyrdom of Jesus or the Twelve. Mark’s readers are also invited to embrace their cross and prepare to make the ultimate sacrifice.

This line of interpretation has produced fruitful results, and the linkage between Jesus and John cannot be gainsaid. However, commentators pursuing this tack have not done justice to the sandwich as a whole. The most salient problem is that they fail to give proper weight to vv. 14-16 where Herod and others speculate about the identity of Jesus. ⁹ These three verses are not peripheral to the passage but occupy part of the central portion of the sandwich (the B story). Moreover, they introduce a leitmotiv that Mark has been emphasizing since the opening verse of his Gospel. Understanding Jesus is imperative for Mark’s audience, and the evangelist punctuates his narrative with periodic reminders (e.g. 1.27; 2.7; 4.41; 8.27-30). Given this ‘persistent interest in the issue of Jesus’ identity’ on the part of the evangelist (McInerny 1996: 255; cf. Fowler 1981: 119; LaVerdiere 1999: I, 157-59; Wright 1985: 235, 243-44; Cummins 2006: I, 36), readers of Mark’s Gospel must be ready at every turn to discover more about who Jesus is. By broaching this topic in vv. 14-16, Mark signals to his audience that they should read the entire sandwich through this Christological lens. ¹⁰

The relationship of discipleship and martyrdom is, at best, a secondary aim of the intercalation. John and the disciples both encounter adversity for proclaiming God’s word, but if Mark wanted to stress the connection between mission and martyrdom as the unifying theme of the sandwich, he would have made the resemblance more overt between John and the Twelve qua missioners. For example, rather than include only a fleeting reference to his earlier ministry (v. 18), Mark could have depicted John baptizing or preaching. Instead, the disciples are actively engaged in ministry while ‘John plays an extraordinarily minor role in the story of his death. In the whole long narrative he is the subject of a verb only in 6.18, elsewhere merely receiving the action of others (Herod, Herodias, Salome, ¹¹ the executioner)’ (Marcus 2000: 403-404; cf. Dibelius 1911: 78-79).

The affinity between Jesus and John, on the other hand, is indubitable, and previous commentators have begun to recognize the Christological import of this sandwich by outlining the parallels between the two figures. However, their exegesis has been short-sighted, for the intercalation contains more Christological information to be unearthed, especially in the A story. John merely intimates the outcome of Jesus’ ministry, but that ministry is still ongoing. There is more to learn about who Jesus is at this early stage of the narrative, and Mark disperses clues throughout the rest of the intercalation to guide his readers toward this end. ¹²

Character Models: Elucidating Christ’s Identity through Comparison

Through the sandwich construction in ch. 6, Mark ‘furnishes the reader with a sumptuous tableau of personages and encourages the reader to compare them to Jesus’ (Fowler 1981: 120). Most of these can be found in the B story, concentrated primarily in its first three verses. In rapid-fire succession, Mark presents a series of candidates vis-à-vis the crowd’s musings about Jesus. Some believe he is John the Baptist redivivus, others Elijah, and still others a prophet like no one has ever seen (vv. 14-16). ¹³ Readers know that these speculations are erroneous since they were informed at the onset of the Gospel that Jesus is the messiah, the son of God (1.1). However, the meaning of these titles has not been fully delineated, and ‘the reader has every right to expect to be informed what this affirmation means in the course of the story’ (Fowler 1981: 119). Mark affords one such opportunity in ch. 6, supplying ‘character models’ by which readers can compare Jesus and thereby come to a clearer understanding of who he is (Fowler 1981: 119). Moreover, the figures in vv. 14-16 are not the only options for Mark’s readership to contemplate. Two more are offered implicitly: Herod and the Twelve. All of these characters share something in common with Jesus, and Mark’s readers are able to use these commonalities to stitch together a composite portrait of Jesus as they proceed through the sandwich. Yet their interpretive task remains incomplete until they recognize the manifold similarities between Jesus and his disciples.

Herod exhibits the fewest similarities to Jesus, yet paradoxically, he is mentioned more than any other character in the intercalation. Mark includes Herod in the passage to explain how John is killed and also to show who Jesus is by contrasting him with a man bearing a similar title and performing similar actions. Both Herod and Jesus are kings, both send others to do their work, and both make lofty promises. Mark’s reference to Herod as a king should immediately grab the reader’s attention; the title is inaccurate, for Herod was merely a ‘tetrarch’ (τετράρχης) (Hooker 1991: 159; Fowler 1981: 120). ¹⁴ Mark’s word choice is deliberate, for he aims to ‘make the comparison between Herod and Jesus in 6.14-44 an implicit comparison of kingly figures … Elsewhere in the gospel, Jesus is linked quite explicitly with the notions of kingship and kingdom’ (Fowler 1981: 121). ¹⁵ These two kings also ‘send’ (ἀποστέλλω) others to do their will in this passage; Jesus commissions the disciples to continue his work of preaching and casting out demons, while Herod sends an executioner to bring him the head of John the Baptist. Finally, Herod promises up to half his kingdom to the daughter of Herodias for her performance, ¹⁶ somewhat akin to the way Jesus has been using kingdom language in addressing his followers (1.15; 3.24; 4.11, 26-32).

In each point of comparison, however, Jesus outshines Herod. Herod’s ‘kingship’ is not only a misnomer, it is a façade. Even in his own court, he displays little control. When confronted with a dilemma, Herod lacks the fortitude to do what is right and is afraid of ‘losing face before his courtiers’ if he were to break his promise to a dancing girl (v. 26) (Marcus 2000: 398; cf. Donahue and Harrington 2002: 202; Gundry 1993: 321). His guests have become for him ‘a power bloc before whom every allegiance must be sacrificed’ (Edwards 2002: 187). Usurping his power are Herodias and her daughter, who ‘emasculate’ him and pull his strings like puppeteers (Heil 1992: 140; Marcus 2000: 398). The girl lures Herod into making a rash oath that he dares not renege on, and her mother manipulates Herod into destroying a man that he admires but whom she despises (v. 19). Herod does not even possess control over himself but is ‘overmastered by his emotions, which swing wildly from superstitious dread (6.14, 16) to awe, fascination, and confusion (6.20) … to extreme depression (6.26)’ (Marcus 2000: 398). These mood swings exacerbate the chaotic atmosphere of Herod’s court, where

everything that could go wrong does go wrong. Disorder reigns, in which the host becomes cocky and loses control over himself, the entertainment is unsuitable (a dancing princess, death as the central topic of conversation), the menu is scandalous (only the head of the Baptist, executed within the context of a party, is served), and … Herod cedes power to his wife (Smit 2009: 44).

Jesus, on the other hand, is firmly in control of himself and his actions, and he is not the sort of king who caters to the wishes of others, unless that other is his Father (14.36). When Jesus sends someone to do his work, it is to bring the good news and to heal, not to terminate the life of another (Stein 2008: 302). When Jesus speaks about a kingdom and makes bold statements about what his followers will enjoy if they do his will, they are sincere assurances of what awaits his disciples, not grandiose promises he could never fulfill (Moloney 2002: 126 n. 47). This contrast of ruling figures spills over into the following passage where Jesus feeds a multitude. Jesus offers a wholesome meal to the famished masses, whereas Herod had hosted a ‘decadent banquet’ for the rich and powerful, culminating in an ‘obscene final course’ of a severed head on a platter (Boring 2006: 182). ¹⁷ Altogether, these paralleled contrasts underscore ‘the ironic correlation between Herod’s misrule and the emerging empire being heralded by John and established by Jesus’ (Cummins 2006: 47; cf. Hurtado 1989: 96). Jesus is a magnanimous king who has come to serve and to bring life to others; Herod is a petty tyrant who brings death and serves only John’s head on a plate. ¹⁸

After instilling in his readers the idea of kingship, Mark proceeds to define further the type of king Jesus will be by likening him to John the Baptist. Later in the Gospel, Mark’s readers discover that Jesus’ messiahship entails repudiation, torture and death (8.31-33; 9.30-32; 10.32-34; 14.43–15.39), but already in ch. 6, Mark hints that Jesus’ ministry will lead to this outcome. His teaching in Nazareth has brought scorn and derision from his own people (vv. 1-6), and the parallels between the fates of Jesus and John remind the audience that Jesus’ successful ventures will eventually precipitate his death. Those parallels have been detailed above and need not be repeated here, but it is important to note that Mark has been encouraging his audience to associate the two men ‘from the very beginning of the book’ (Boring 2006: 178). The opening verse names Jesus as the subject of the Gospel, and the next verse shifts immediately to John the Baptist. Henceforth, Jesus and John will be ‘constantly paired in Mark’s gospel; they are almost twins or Doppelgänger’ (Fowler 1981: 122). John preaches repentance, baptizes throngs of people who flock to him, and foretells the coming of one mightier who will also baptize (1.4-8). Jesus then appears and is baptized by John, after which he soon replicates the latter’s work. He begins attracting people to himself and preaches repentance (1.14-20). Moreover, Mark connects each man via comparisons to the prophet Elijah. John’s ‘garment of camel hair and the leather belt … were meant to evoke the figure of Elijah (see 2 Kgs 1:7-8)’ (LaVerdiere 1999: I, 160), and Jesus’ forty-day sojourn in the wilderness likewise alludes to a similar experience by the prophet (1 Kgs 19.1-8) (Fowler 1981: 122).

Like Herod, then, John the Baptist also resembles Jesus, and Mark’s readers now infer that Jesus is ‘not only a Royal Messiah (antithetically parallel to Herod in the inner story) but also a suffering Messiah (parallel to John in the inner story)’ (Shepherd 1993: 184). Yet since John has more in common with Jesus than Herod does, Mark’s readers quickly gravitate toward John as a more accurate character model by which to understand Jesus. Mark facilitates this transition by depicting Herod and John in diametric opposition. Unlike Herod, who ‘succumbed to public pressure … the Baptist would not give in weakly to pressure … He stood by his God-given task, preaching repentance and forgiveness of sins’ (Moloney 2002: 127). The same will be true of Jesus at the Gospel’s end.

In this same episode, however, the evangelist draws contrasts between Jesus and his forerunner John. Whereas Herod and the crowds mistakenly suppose that Jesus is John risen from the dead, Mark has already disabused his audience of this notion. They know from the Gospel’s first chapter that the two are distinct, and as they peruse the tale of John’s beheading, they pick up on other clues that the two are not quite alike. As noted above, John is a minor, passive character who utters not a word in 6.14-29, but Jesus will occupy center stage in the passion narrative, taking a more active part by addressing his captors (14.48-49), accusers (14.62) and executioner (15.2), and uttering a final cry before perishing (14.34). The two also differ in what transpires after their deaths. Their burials are described in similar fashion in 6.29 and 15.45-46: the body (τὸ πτῶμα) of each is placed (τίθημι) in a tomb (ἐν μνημείῳ) (LaVerdiere 1999: I, 162). ¹⁹ Yet the people doing the interring have different relationships with the deceased. John’s disciples bury him, but ‘the disciples of Jesus … will have fled the scene of Jesus’ passion’, leaving their lord to ‘be buried by a non-disciple, Joseph of Arimathea’ (Moloney 2002: 127). ²⁰ Furthermore, the presumption by Herod and the crowds that John has risen from the dead ‘are only rumors’ (Moloney 2002: 127). Reports about Jesus’ return from the grave will also circulate, but they will be genuine accounts of resurrection. Thus, the affinities between Jesus and John allow readers to learn more about the former by comparing him with the latter, but the resemblance is limited. Jesus is ‘clearly superior to John’ (Shepherd 1995: 530), ²¹ and Mark’s audience must keep poring over the sandwich to discover other character models who better represent Jesus.

They will not find this model anywhere else in the B story. The remaining options offered by the crowds do little to enhance the audience’s understanding of who he is. Although both designations of ‘prophet’ and Elijah ‘attribute high status to Jesus’ and are true to some extent, they are nonetheless inadequate (Hooker 1991: 160). Elijah’s forty-day stay in the wilderness ‘is echoed in Mark 1:12-13’ (Fowler 1981: 122), but ‘the reader knows that it is John himself who plays the role of Elijah’ and that ‘Jesus, as “the stronger one” to come, is much more than Elijah’ (Heil 1992: 138; cf. Mk 9.11-13). The anonymous, unparalleled prophet is too vague a description of Jesus, and although Jesus is like a prophet without honor in his native town of Nazareth (6.4), ‘the classic role of a “prophet”’ is ‘more aptly illustrate[d]’ by John (Heil 1992: 138). More to the point, Mark chooses not to dwell on these surmises by the crowd but mentions them briefly so as not to divert his audience from the most suitable character model. Having culled all the valuable information that the B story has to offer, readers now continue their Christological quest in the flanking halves.

The Disciples

The lone candidate for comparison in the ‘A’ part of the sandwich is Jesus’ cadre of twelve disciples, and it is they who best reflect his identity at this point in the Gospel. The disciples are still learning who Jesus is and what it means to be his followers, but they ‘have been with Jesus long enough to represent him. They have heard him preach and teach and have seen him cast out demons’ (Gundry 1993: 307). It is now their turn to carry on this same ministry, and Jesus’ instructions to the Twelve, as well as Mark’s description of their missionary endeavors, highlight the multiple similarities between master and pupils.

As the disciples conduct their first mission, they duplicate the work that Jesus has been doing thus far. After receiving their directives, they teach (διδάσκω) and preach (κηρύσσω) in the various towns of Galilee (vv. 12, 30). The former activity is especially significant since this episode constitutes ‘the only instance [in Mark’s Gospel] in which someone other than Jesus is said to teach’ (Marcus 2000: 416). The Twelve are portrayed as itinerant preachers who are enjoined to travel from village to village on their missionary expedition (εἰς ὁδόν), also like their master. Throughout the Gospel, Jesus is regularly presented ‘as a preacher and miracle worker who is forever on a journey’. The frequent use of verbs of motion, coupled with Mark’s recurrent use of εὐθύς, create the image of ‘a charismatic wanderer’ (Moloney 2002: 122). Jesus acted in this capacity as recently as 6.6 when he embarked on a teaching circuit of neighboring villages. In vv. 8-9, Jesus lists what his disciples should bring with them on their mission, including a pair of sandals and a walking stick, which are both ‘symbols of this [itinerant] lifestyle’. They are not permitted to bring anything else, so that, ‘devoid of all other necessities, [they] are permitted to join Jesus in his missionary journey’ (Marcus 2000: 416). ²²

The twofold task of teaching and preaching is clearly part of the disciples’ agenda, but the content of their kerygma is less ostensible. Mark says only that they preached repentance, but he never specifies what they taught the people. It seems logical that ‘they would have repeated the teachings they had heard from Jesus’s lips’ (Stein 2008: 290-91). In other words, they announced to the people ‘the nearness of the kingdom of God’ (Collins 2007: 302; cf. Edwards 2002: 178; van Iersel 1998: 215). ²³ This has been the central theme in Jesus’ proclamation, and even if the disciples do not fully comprehend its meaning, these ‘fishers of men’ (1.17) would want to make a great catch. This would entail not only sharing Jesus’ healing touch but also spreading his galvanizing message. To this end, the Twelve might also have recounted the many wondrous deeds they had seen Jesus perform (Stein 2008: 290-91), but in terms of catechesis, they would have focused on God’s inbreaking kingdom, making them the only characters besides Jesus to preach the good news.

In addition to evangelization, the disciples heal the sick and exorcise demons. Jesus has been doing plenty of both in the first five chapters of Mark’s Gospel, and he will continue to do so. In 6.6b-13, it is the Twelve who alleviate the suffering of others by curing their ailments and expelling the demons afflicting them. They receive this power from Christ himself, and when Jesus gives his disciples ‘authority over unclean spirits’ (v. 7), Mark’s readers remember that ‘such authority, up to this point of the narrative, belonged only to Jesus’ (Moloney 2002: 121). Now this authority is manifest in the disciples, just as Jesus had promised in 3.14-15.

Given the disciples’ earlier struggles in understanding Jesus (4.10-13, 38-41), Mark’s audience should be astonished to see them perform such exceptional deeds. Not only is the nature of their work extraordinary, but the magnitude of their healing power approximates that of Jesus’. They heal many who were ailing (πολλοὺς ἀρρώστους) and exorcise many demons (δαιμόνια πολλά). They are no longer slow learners who need constant instruction from their teacher but immediately reproduce Jesus’ miraculous works on a grand scale. What is more, they do this without any practice. Their first attempt to spread Jesus’ message and to bring healing to others exceeds any expectations the audience might have. Not even a veteran prophet such as John is able to accomplish such things. Their unbridled success is all the more remarkable when considering the chilly reception that Jesus experienced in the previous scene. In his hometown, Jesus was unable to attract any followers or work many mighty deeds (6.1-6a), so when Mark’s readers learn that the Twelve succeed on their first try, they recognize that this is no small feat. The disciples’ prodigious accomplishments should give the readers pause, causing them to suspect that Mark is doing something more than relate the inaugural mission of the Twelve.

That something more has to do with Jesus. Most commentators recognize as much, asserting that the disciples’ success indicates not their own innate abilities but points to the one who sent them. Through their ‘intimate association’ with their master, the disciples’ evangelization and exorcising help promote his cause and serve as an ‘extension of Jesus’ ministry’ (Moloney 2002: 122; Boring 2006: 175; cf. Stein 2008: 312; Gundry 1993: 310; Edwards 2002: 179). ²⁴ They partake in the same mission that Jesus has begun, and in so doing, their ‘success redounds to his glory’ (Marcus 2000: 398). These observations are correct, but they are only an intermediate step in the exegetical process of deciphering this sandwich. Mark wants readers to view his account of the disciples’ missionary activity in light of the larger intercalation of which it is a part. Consequently, their work does more than further Christ’s own or demonstrate how they participate in his ministry; it shows the audience who Christ is.

As noted above, the fundamental question addressed by the intercalation of 6.6b-30 is the identity of Jesus, and Mark’s readers have been gradually arriving at an answer to this question. Of all the character models in the sandwich, the disciples have the most in common with Jesus and thereby best elucidate who he is. But equally important is the manner in which Mark describes their shared features. In telling the story of the disciples’ first mission, Mark creates several allusions to the inception of Jesus’ ministry in ch. 1, showing that the Twelve walk in the same footsteps as their teacher when he first undertook his mission. In each case, the sequence of events is identical. Jesus’ first public act after his wilderness experience is to ‘proclaim’ (κηρύσσω) the good news and to implore the people to ‘repent’ (μετανοέω). The disciples likewise ‘proclaimed that [the people] should repent’ (ἐκήρυξαν ἵνα μετανοῶσιν), ²⁵ and Mark makes sure to list this activity first among their public acts (6.12) (Marcus 2000: 388).

The second major action for both in terms of their public ministries is to expel demons. ²⁶ Jesus performs numerous exorcisms in ch. 1, curing a man possessed with an unclean spirit in Capernaum and doing the same for a group of demoniacs at Simon Peter’s house (1.21-28, 32-34). The disciples similarly drive out many demons, and Mark takes care to name this as the second activity among their missionary endeavors (6.13). Moreover, the terse description of the disciples’ exploits in 6.12-13 is not meant to belittle their accomplishments but to pattern them after their master. Interspersed throughout the first few chapters of Mark’s Gospel are nondescript summary statements of Jesus’ preaching and healing, the first of which occurs at the beginning of his ministry (1.32-34). The account of the disciples’ inaugural mission is also a ‘summary report’ (Gnilka 1978–1979: 240) which ‘echoes the summaries of Jesus’ activities in 1.34’ (Hooker 1991: 157). Nevertheless, the few details contained therein are important, for they include a cluster of key terms from the first chapter:

Like Jesus, the disciples ‘went out’ (lit. ‘going out’; 1:38; 6:1) and ‘preached’ (1:14, 38, 39; cf. also 1:4; 5:20) that people should ‘repent’ (1:15; cf. also 1:4) … and like Jesus (1:21-28, 32-34; 3:11-12, 22, 26-27; 5:1-20), they exorcised ‘many’ (cf. 1:34; 5:9ff.) demons and unclean spirits (Stein 2008: 295).

With the conclusion of the A story, the sandwich is complete, and the audience has arrived at a more refined understanding of the Markan Jesus at this point in the Gospel. He is a king but vastly superior to Herod. He will be martyred like John, yet he is greater than John. He is most like the disciples on mission: a peripatetic preacher who calls people to repent, teaches them about the kingdom, heals the sick, and casts out a myriad number of demons. All three figures contribute to this composite Christological portrait, but the evangelist is not finished yet. In the ensuing chapters, Mark will flesh out this portrait of Jesus further, most notably in 8.27-33 and 15.39 where he makes the link between messiahship and suffering more explicit. However, these climactic moments will not come unexpectedly, for Mark is building up to them incrementally. The intercalation of ch. 6 serves as a stepping stone along the path of greater Christological understanding, providing valuable information about Jesus for readers to ponder. They are coming to know Jesus more fully and are better equipped for scenes of greater perspicuity at Caesarea Philippi and Golgotha.

Dramatic Irony

The close association of Jesus and the disciples, however, is not meant to extol the latter. As exegetes have long recognized, the Twelve routinely fail to understand Jesus’ messianic identity throughout the Gospel, and their imitation of Christ in this passage seems discordant with their incomprehension elsewhere. While it is true that Mark offers here ‘easily the most positive representation of the disciples in the entire Gospel’ (Tolbert 1989: 197), the astute reader will recognize ‘deep irony’ in their depiction (Moloney 2002: 128). The disciples’ triumphant foray into the arena of preaching and miracle-working has not led them to understand Christ any better, and they remain mired in a pattern of success tinged with failure. At the beginning of the Gospel, the Twelve courageously abandon career and home to follow Jesus (1.16-20; 2.14), but by the close of ch. 5, they have ‘become exasperated with him (4:38; 5:31)’ (Edwards 2002: 177) and have failed to understand his teachings (4.11, 13) and his identity (4.41).

In ch. 6, their extraordinary performance as first-time missioners ‘catch[es] us by surprise’ (Edwards 2002: 177), interrupting the disciples’ checkered development and showing what great heights they can achieve. But when they return to the one who commissioned them, they also return to their bungling behavior. They report to Jesus what they have done and taught, but ‘one detects in the report a breathless sense of novice enthusiasm’ (Byrne 2008: 114). They have become ‘flushed with success’ (Moloney 2002: 129), and in their exuberance, they neglect to assign credit where credit is due. It is through Jesus and by his authority that the disciples have accomplished these things, such that ‘their preaching, healing, and exorcising [are] in effect Jesus’s preaching, healing, and exorcising’ (Stein 2008: 311-12). But instead of ascribing to Jesus the honor that is rightfully his, the disciples presume to be ‘masters of the situation … They report in 6:30 “everything” that they did and everything that they said. This is to miss the point of their being sent by Jesus’ (Moloney 2002: 128, italics original). The disciples’ ebullience clouds their judgment, and they cannot see the plain truth right in front of them, but Mark’s audience sees the situation with perfect clarity. The irony is actually twofold, for not only do the disciples fail to recognize that they have embodied Jesus for others, ‘their missionary activity depends entirely upon the one to whom they are announcing their success!’ (Moloney 2002: 128).

The disciples’ folly in 6.30 marks the beginning of a series of failures as they exhibit ‘consistently inept behavior’ for the remainder of the Gospel (Kelhoffer 2010: 92). In the following episode, the gains made by the disciples in 6.6b-13 are now lost, and ‘their antagonism to Jesus (6:36-38) and their utter inability to comprehend him (6:49-50)’ become most acute (Fowler 1981: 118). They naively point out to Jesus what he can already see—that the hour is late and the place desolate—and they brazenly command him to dismiss the crowds so that they may procure food for themselves (6.35-36). When Jesus tells the disciples that they should provide the food for the people, they retort, ‘Are we to buy two hundred days’ wages worth of food and give it to them to eat?’ (6.38). Their rhetorical question implies that Jesus’ request is absurd, but he then exposes the Twelve’s own fatuity when he asks them how many loaves of bread they have. After a quick search, they muster together five loaves and two fish, which they must have had with them in the previous scene, i.e. when they were traveling abroad as missionaries. The possession of bread on the journey is a blatant violation of the prohibition in v. 8 where they were ‘expressly ordered not to carry [any food]’, and their disobedience of Jesus’ instructions reveals that ‘they are ultimately callous to his wishes’ (Fowler 1981: 118). ²⁷

Matters worsen in subsequent episodes as the Twelve fail to recognize and understand Jesus. They mistake him for a ghost (6.49), they cannot make sense of the feeding of the five thousand (6.52), they cannot foresee that Jesus will feed thousands of people with a modicum of food as he did earlier (8.4), they cannot understand Jesus’ admonition about the leaven of the Pharisees and Herod (8.14), and they cannot fathom the significance of the two feeding miracles (8.17-21). Their hearts remain hardened to the truth about Jesus (6.52; 8.17), despite occasions of limited insight (8.29; 9.5). The disciples’ shortcomings are magnified in the passion narrative as other characters correctly identify Jesus and respond accordingly (14.3-9; 15.39), while the Twelve betray Jesus, deny him and abandon him (14.43-72). Mark’s portrayal of the disciples is thus saturated with irony. The ones closest to Jesus and the ones who best represent him in 6.6b-30 cannot grasp his true identity nor use such knowledge to become the type of followers Jesus calls them to be.

Conclusion

The ironic behavior of the Twelve in ch. 6 acts as a catalyst for growth and understanding on the part of Mark’s readership. On the one hand, the disciples serve as the best Christological analog in the intercalation, thus answering the question about Jesus’ identity broached in vv. 14-16. Although each character model in the sandwich reveals something true about Jesus, it is the Twelve who best exemplify Christ’s identity at this point in the narrative: a wonder-working, itinerant preacher of repentance and God’s kingdom. On the other hand, the failure of the Twelve also stimulates growth for Mark’s readers. The disciples’ inability to comprehend the man they are emulating and their persistent ineptitude create distance between the disciples and Mark’s readers, who dare not fall victim to the same folly. Once the disciples start to entertain delusions of their own grandeur (10.35-39), their ignorance becomes intolerable, and readers begin to look elsewhere for other characters who can provide examples of authentic discipleship.