Videre Recte

I am convinced, along with the majority of scholars, that Mark intended to end his gospel at Mark 16:8. The earliest manuscripts and the general witness of early church discussion about the end of Mark indicate that verse 9 and on were not in Mark’s original manuscript.¹ Because of the unusual ending, it is likely that the longer version printed in our Bibles was added fairly early on in Church history by someone who wanted to “complete the story,” so to speak.²

Assuming that Mark intended to end here, the last verse of the Gospel reads, “And [the women] went out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and astonishment were gripping them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” The end. The abruptness of this ending can be a cause for confusion, but with careful study and thought, Mark’s beautiful underlying message rises to the surface to comfort and exhort our souls.

First, let us consider the women’s reaction at the end of the Gospel. We know, of course, that the whole story didn’t end with the women fleeing and saying nothing to anyone. Even the original audience knew the story didn’t end that way. (If the women never told anyone, how did Mark know about it?) In ending at verse 8, Mark isn’t so much relating how the story truly ended as drawing our attention to something important: the women’s “trembling,” “astonishment,” and “fear.” 

Because of the ambiguity of these words, some readers, like the excellent Mike Winger, argue that the women are responding positively in the end of Mark.³ I find this argument very plausible, but overall I lean the other way for several reasons. First, “fled” (ephygon), used in Mark 16:8, is never positive, not only in Mark but in the entire New Testament. People flee death, wrath, sin, and more, and it is always something to get away from. In other words, the motivation is never to flee joyfully.

“Afraid,” too, is suspect. “Afraid” (phobeo) shows up twelve times throughout the book of Mark (4:41; 5:15, 33, 36; 6:20, 50; 9:6, 32; 10:32; 11:18, 32; 12:12). It is, with one exception, the exclusive word that Mark uses to denote fear. Commentator Kelly Iverson helpfully points out that ten of these twelve usages are negative in their context (the fear is itself negative or is related to something negative). Only one is positive (the fear of the woman who had bled for twelve years), and the other is a bit vague (Herod’s fear of John).⁴

So, in Mark, fear is not really a positive or even neutral emotion. And in this case, it leads to what seems to be direct disobedience of the divine command. As Mark lays it out, the angel directed them to “go, tell His disciples and Peter,’” but they instead, “said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” It does not come across like a positive climax; instead, it seems like another example of those who follow Jesus falling short of what He (and we) want from them.

So why does Mark end his Gospel on such a negative note? Well, keep in mind that Mark has made it pretty clear by the end of his Gospel who Jesus is. The word “authority” shows up ten times throughout the Gospel, and if we take the hint and track authority as a theme in Mark, we see Jesus using His authority to call disciples to Himself (e.g. 1:16–20), to teach with command (1:22), to forgive sins (2:10), to supercede the Pharisaical law (e.g. 2:28), to cast out demons (see, e.g., 3:15), to calm a storm (4:39), to raise the dead (5:41), to multiply food (6:41; 8:6), to walk on water (6:49), to declare all foods clean (7:19), to predict both the distant and near future (e.g. 8:31; 11:2–3; ch 13), to ride into Jerusalem like a king and cleanse the Temple (11:28), and to claim to be God’s Messiah and God in the flesh (14:62).

Jesus’s demonstration of authority is meant to make it crystal clear who He is. He is utterly unique in history. To highlight this utter uniqueness, and Christ’s obvious identity as deity, Mark even bookends his Gospel with the confession of Jesus as the Son of God. Mark 1:10–11 says, “He saw the heavens opening (schizo, “torn”), and the Spirit like a dove descending upon Him (from on high towards the earth); and a voice came out of the heavens: “You are my beloved Son.” Mark 15:38–39 mirrors this language: “And the veil of the sanctuary was torn (schizo, “opening”) in two from top to bottom (from on high towards the earth)…. [And the centurion] said, ‘Truly this man was God’s Son!”

Thus, Mark begins and ends with a simple proclamation, and, like a saturated sponge, his Gospel overflows with evidence for the truth about Jesus—He is the authoritative Son of God. This is who Jesus clearly claimed to be and who He clearly demonstrated Himself to be. 

When we’re reading Mark 16, we have to keep all of that in mind. At the chapter’s beginning, Jesus has been buried, just as He said he would be. But He also predicted He would rise from the dead, and now we are confronted with two undeniable facts. First, the tomb was empty. Jesus—who had proven Himself able to predict the future and who had proven to have power over death—was not in His grave. Second, an explanation was given by someone who certainly seemed to be a reliable witness. The “young man,” dressed in a white robe and privy to otherwise private information, could not realistically be anything other than an angel. (As confirmation, obviously the other Gospels bear this out, but Mark’s audience would surely have been familiar with the oral tradition, as well). 

Whether their response was a righteous fear and trembling or an unrighteous one, Mark intends for us to ask: what should the women have concluded? And in asking that question, we will be forced to ask another question: what do we? The women were confronted with the reality of the empty tomb—just like, incidentally, Mark’s readers/listeners were (and continue to be)—and now they had to rely on the testimony of a reliable witness to determine the truth about Jesus—again, just like Mark’s readers/listeners. Mark wants us, as those in a similar position to these women, to assess the testimony of Jesus’s life and death and consider the proper response for ourselves. The question becomes less about what the women believed and more about what we do. It is less whether the women proclaimed the good news, and more whether we will. Less whether the women were appropriately or sinfully afraid, and more whether we are.

This opportunity for reflection can be convicting. For Mark’s original readers and for us, persecution and the fear of man can hinder a proper response to the empty tomb. Ironically, the one time in the Gospel when Jesus actually wants people to tell everyone who He is, they don’t want to. It’s very human, and I take it to be an indictment not of the women, per se, but of the tendency of Christ’s disciples toward weakness. There have been glimpses of great faith in the book of Mark, but seldom from those who claim to walk closest with Jesus. It is for this reason that Mark embeds some encouragement.

Peter, “the Rock,” was certainly not firm and steadfast in faith. In one moment, he’s confessing Jesus as the Christ; in the next, he’s being called Satan by that same Jesus (Mark 8:29, 33). In one moment he’s being chosen to watch and pray; in the next, he’s being told, “Could you not keep watch for one hour?” (Mark 14:37–38). In one moment, he’s saying, “Even though all may fall away, yet I will not” (Mark 14:29); in the next, he’s falling into temptation (that he could have avoided if he had prayed when Jesus told him to), then fleeing from Jesus, “curs[ing] and swear[ing], ‘I do not know this man you are talking about!’” denying Him for the third time (Mark 14:71).

And yet, we know that that wasn’t the end of his story. God is gracious. There are plenty of people in Mark’s Gospel who rejected Jesus outright. The Pharisees, the rich young ruler, and Judas Iscariot are three prime examples. The women and the disciples are not in that category. They fear, but they still follow. They reject in part, but they are reconciled. 

Peter was absolutely confident that he would never abandon Jesus; and he totally, completely failed. And that is certainly why Mark included the angel’s words to the women: “But go, tell His disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see Him, just as He told you.’”

Peter, like the disciples throughout the Gospel, is offered the grace of his Savior. Throughout the Gospel, the disciples are falling short of who they really ought to be. But Jesus never quits on them. He never stops leading and pursuing them, even to the end of Mark 16. He would continue to teach them until they were given the strength needed for the job by the coming of His Spirit. As He promised in Mark 13, “And when they lead you away, delivering you up, do not worry beforehand about what you are to say, but say whatever is given to you in that hour; for it is not you who speak, but it is the Holy Spirit” (v. 11). Through His Spirit, He would make them strong.

With the two little words, “and Peter,” Mark gives us hope. In his implied Great Commission, Mark reminds us that we, too, will be given grace when we stumble. But he also wants us to remember that we have strength that Peter, the other apostles, and the women who fled from the tomb did not have in that moment. Jesus has condescended and empowered us, too, for the task we’ve been given by the coming of His Holy Spirit into our lives. 

Because of Mark’s brilliant ending, we are forced to reflect and meditate. And in so doing, we are encouraged to share the good news boldly and confidently—knowing we are forgiven when we fail and remembering that we do not have to be afraid like the women in the Gospel of Mark’s last moment, for Christ has made us strong. May that truth ever comfort and exhort our souls.

1. A summary of the argument for the shorter ending can be found here, and in lengthier video form here. ↩︎
2. This is one of only a very few places in Scripture where what is printed in our Bibles is not original. It’s important to note, too, that the longer ending of Mark is essentially an amalgamation of other Scriptures; there’s nothing essentially changed in the greater testimony of Scripture by adding or removing the long ending. ↩︎
3. See Mike’s video on the topic here. ↩︎
4. See Dr. Iverson’s article here. ↩︎