And the sabbath being [now] past, Mary of Magdala, and Mary the [mother] of James, and Salome, bought aromatic spices that they might come and embalm him.
The Sabbath has ended, and three women buy spices to anoint a body. That one purpose shows how much they loved Jesus, and how little they expected Him alive.
Mark gives their names, and they are not strangers to his story.
For the third time these three devoted women — Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome — come before us. It seems they had already bought sweet spices to anoint the Lord's body once the sabbath was past. Unbelief expected to find the Lord's body in the grave, and ignorance would try to keep it there. But the Spirit of God delights to take what is precious out of what is worthless. He dwells on their devoted love, which led them to buy the spices and come to the grave at sunrise.
Their steadiness stands out against the men who ran.
The women stood by the cross when all the men who had claimed to be devoted to Him had run away, except John. The women were the last at His tomb on the night of His death, and the first there on the morning of His resurrection. He showed Himself alive to them before any of the men knew He had risen. And Mary Magdalene was the chief among those women, and the first to see Him.
Their love was real. Their grasp of what He had said was not.
In this chapter we see the women coming to the grave of Jesus with love, but with no understanding of resurrection, and so in deep confusion. They had "bought spices" so that they might come and anoint Him. The Lord had told the disciples plainly that He was about to rise from the dead. The faith of even these saints of God was so small that, on the very day He had prepared them to expect His rising, they were busy with what suited a dead Christ only, not the risen and living One.
The same act shows three things at once.
Three things are clearly shown by this: first, their affection for Christ; second, that they had no expectation of the resurrection; and last, their true godliness, seen in their submission to the word of God. They longed to pour out the signs of their deep love on the dead body of their Lord. But the sabbath came at once, so these holy women — Mary Magdalene the best known among them — waited and rested in obedience to the commandment before they carried out their plan.
Commentators differ over exactly when the spices were bought. Some read the wording as placing the purchase on Saturday evening, once the Sabbath had closed and shops could open again.
The Sabbath closed at six, as is known, and from Saturday at six in the evening the women were free to buy their spices, or to do anything else.
Others allow that some of it may have been secured earlier, before the rest-day began.
Other women had bought spices to embalm the Lord. They may have bought some before the sabbath began, so that they could rest during the sabbath day. And after the sabbath was over — that is, at six o'clock — they certainly waited till the morning to embalm Him.
Their errand was sincere, yet it had already been overtaken.
They had bought sweet spices in order to anoint His body, but they would never use them. Mary of Bethany had anointed Him before, and He credited her with doing this in view of His burial (Ch.14:8). They may not have known that the stone had been sealed and a guard set. But they knew how hard it would be to roll the stone away, and they asked who would do it. Yet their love for Him brought them there.
One writer sets the two anointings side by side.
The woman who anointed the Lord's feet in Simon's house showed more real love, and more understanding of God's truth, than those who brought their hundred pounds of sweet spices to His empty tomb. Their loving act came at the wrong time, for He was not there — He had risen. And there was no decay there needing rich perfume to cover it.
The Sabbath they waited through was the one Christ spent in the grave.
So Christ lay in the grave that sabbath, but now He is risen — risen on the first day of the week, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep... So we do not celebrate the rest of the old creation; we were completely lost as part of it. We celebrate the resurrection of our blessed Lord, as the foundation and beginning of the new creation, when redemption is accomplished.
- Love waits. The women rested through the Sabbath in obedience. Then they bought spices as soon as they were free. The word of God held their love in check.
- Love buys. Their money went on perfumes for a body, proof of devotion and proof that none of them expected Him to rise.
- Love arrives. They were last at the cross and first at the tomb, ahead of every man who had promised to stand by Him.
- Love is outrun. The spices were never used. Mary of Bethany had anointed Him already, and no dead body was left to anoint.
- Love finds a new day. They kept the Sabbath Christ spent in the grave. They walked into the first day of the week — the start of the new creation.
And very early on the first [day] of the week they come to the sepulchre, the sun having risen.
Mark opens the resurrection morning with three women walking to a grave at first light. They carry spices for a body they expect to find. Two questions follow. How does the timing fit the other three Gospels? And why does Scripture dwell on women who came expecting death?
The four Gospels each mark the hour differently. A reader once asked one writer to reconcile Matthew 28:1, Mark 16:2, Luke 24:1 and John 20:1. His answer turns on where each account begins:
The first text speaks of the Sabbath that came before the resurrection day, not of the resurrection day itself. It points to late on that Sabbath, at the dusk of evening. By Jewish reckoning, that was when the next day was to begin. In Matthew, verse 2 starts a distinct paragraph referring to that first day. The second text tells us that when the Sabbath was past, the women it names bought the spices to embalm Him. But when they came to the tomb very early next morning, they learned that the Lord had risen. So says the third text. The fourth tells us of two separate visits by Mary of Magdala. On the first she saw the stone taken away. On the second He appeared to her for the first time.
Mark's note about the risen sun raises a further question. How many trips did the women make, and what had already happened before they arrived?
Here Mark gives us a little bit of light. They were there at the rising of the sun. They must then have been there twice. I do not doubt it. Whether they went back overnight is not the question. They came out at sunrise. But before they got there, and before the sun was up, the blessed Lord had risen.
The women bought their spices and rested through the Sabbath before they set out. Those steps show three things about them:
This shows three things very clearly. First, their affection for Christ. Second, they expected no resurrection at all. Third, their devout piety, seen in their obedience to the word of God. They longed to lavish the signs of their ardent love on the dead body of their Lord.
So their errand rested on a mistake. But the mistake is not what God's Spirit lingers over:
Unbelief thought to find the Lord's body in the grave, and ignorance would seek to keep it there. But the Spirit of God delights to take what is precious out of what is worthless. He dwells on their devoted love, which led them to buy the spices and come to the grave at sunrise.
Their early start was still not early enough:
The disciples kept the commandment by observing the Sabbath. Then they hurried — at least the women devoted to the Lord did — to come at dawn on the first day of the week. They wanted to honour the body of their loved Master by embalming it at last. But they arrived too late. The power, righteousness, glory and love of the Father had gone before them in raising Christ from among the dead. What a glorious morning! The beginning of an eternal era for the redeemed.
Mark notes the risen sun. The women walked through that sunrise without seeing it, because a grave was their goal:
But what a sunrise that must have been, though their eyes did not appreciate it! Let no one tell me that the day dawned like other days, or that all nature did not exult in that great hour. There must have been a triumph and a fragrance in it that no rising of the sun had ever known before.
Mark dates the visit to the first day of the week. Why does that day matter?
The memorial of creation rest was the Sabbath, not the first day. The law imposed it in due time as a most holy commandment, bound up in a special way with God's authority and honour. The resurrection of Christ has brought in a new creation, after He had by Himself purged our sins on the cross. So the first day is the day of open and triumphant life in Christ, who is our life. On that day our hearts go out in worship, communion and service. There was no transfer from the seventh day to the first, and the first is never called the Sabbath day. The New Testament closes by stamping this day as "the Lord's day" (Revelation 1:10).
- Early — The women reached the tomb at daybreak on the first day of the week. The four Gospel accounts differ in starting point, not in fact.
- Earlier — They came at sunrise, but before they arrived and before the sun was up, the Lord had already risen.
- Late — Their errand came to nothing. They came to embalm a body, and the Father had gone before them in raising His Son.
- Loved — They expected no resurrection, yet the Spirit of God dwells on the love that brought them there at dawn.
- New — That first day marks a new creation — the Lord's day, the day of open and triumphant life in Christ.
And they said to one another, Who shall roll us away the stone out of the door of the sepulchre?
The women walk toward a grave at sunrise, carrying spices and one unsolved problem: a stone they cannot move. Their question on the road shows their love and the limits of their faith. God answers it before they reach the tomb.
The Lord had told His disciples He would rise. Yet these women packed what you bring to a dead body.
In this chapter we have the women coming to the grave of Jesus with love, but no understanding of resurrection, and so in deep confusion. They had "bought spices" so that they could come and anoint Him. The Lord had told the disciples clearly that He was about to rise from the dead. The faith of even these saints of God was so small. On the very day He had prepared them to expect His rising, they busied themselves with what suited only a dead Christ, not the risen and living One.
Their reasoning was poor, but their motive was not. They had watched that stone close on everything they hoped for, and they still meant to give Him the honour of a king.
No grave ever buried brighter hopes than the grave of Jesus. No hearts were ever more empty than the hearts of those women. They shuddered in their sorrow as the great stone rolled into place at the door of that tomb and shut the body of their Lord away from their tear-filled eyes... The Jews had rejected His kingship... the crowd had gone home saying He was no king at all. But to those women He was King, and more. He had lost the kingdom, yet He would lie in His tomb as a King if they could manage it.
They asked who would move the stone. God had already moved it, and He had His own reason for doing so.
Coming to the grave, these devoted women find that God had been there before them, and the stone is rolled away. God did not move it so that the body of the Lord could leave the grave. He moved it so that disciples could go in and see that the place where they laid Him is empty. No stone, however great, could hold the body of the Lord in the grave.
Mark notes that the stone was very great. Its size mattered to the women. It did not matter to God:
This is what resurrection can do; this is the power that comes with it. The hindrance was beyond their strength to move, and the stone that blocked the grave was very great. But this made no difference to God, and it was now rolled away.
The women's question did not die that morning. Wherever people judge resurrection by reason alone, the stone still lies across the door.
To the reasoning mind of the natural man, there is still a great stone at the grave of Christ. Cut off from God, fallen man finds the truth of resurrection an obstacle he cannot get past. The Greek philosophers, like the philosophers of today, may claim to believe that the soul never dies. But they refuse to accept the resurrection of the body. Man likes the thought that his soul lives on after it leaves the body. But raising the body would clearly take the power of God, and men hate God — so the thought of depending on Him disgusts them. Leave God out and resurrection is impossible; bring in God, and His power, and all difficulties vanish — the stone is rolled away.
The same question rises whenever a trouble waits up ahead of us. One writer answers it with a name.
We may, like Mary, feel like crying out, "Who will roll away the stone for us?" Who? The risen Jesus. Grasp resurrection, and you rise above the power of every burden... How often have we shrunk from the thought of some trial or burden! In the distance it looked like a dark cloud on the horizon. Yet when we came near it, we "found the stone rolled away from the tomb." The risen Jesus had rolled it away... She had come to the tomb expecting a great stone between her and the One she loved. Instead she found the risen Jesus between her and the difficulty she dreaded.
- Love goes first. Their spices suited only a dead Christ, yet love still brought them to the grave.
- The stone stops them. The stone was too big for them to move. It made no difference to God.
- God goes ahead. He had rolled the stone away before they arrived — not so the Lord could get out, but so His disciples could get in and see the empty place.
- The stone survives. Reason still puts a great stone at Christ's grave. Leave God out and resurrection is impossible. Bring Him in and the difficulty disappears.
- Your stone too. You dread a burden from far off. Often you reach it and find the stone already rolled away, with the risen Jesus between you and it.
And when they looked, they see that the stone has been rolled [away], for it was very great.
The women walked to the tomb with spices and one worry. A stone too heavy for them lay between their love and the body they wanted to care for. Then they looked up, and the stone was gone. Who moved it? Why move it at all? And why does Mark tell us how big it was?
Their errand assumed a dead Christ. One writer sets that beside what the Lord had already told them.
Here we have the women coming to the grave of Jesus with love, but no understanding of resurrection, and so in deep perplexity. They had bought aromatic spices so that they could come and anoint Him. The Lord had told the disciples clearly that He was about to rise from the dead. The faith of these saints of God was so small. On the very day He had prepared them to expect His rising, they were busy with what suited only a dead Christ, not the risen and living One.
Another writer looks at their timing. Their devotion came after the event it was meant to serve.
These dear women came to the grave very early in the morning on the first day of the week, but they were too late… Elsewhere we read that the women had asked each other who might roll the stone away from the grave (Mark 16:3), so that they could anoint Him. But the stone was already rolled away! The grave was accessible, but there was no body to anoint.
Mark ends the verse by noting the stone's size. That size measures the gap between what they could lift and what God had already done.
Here on earth, for the one who believes, the resurrection is the true solution to every difficulty… Such is the power of resurrection, such is the might that goes with it. The obstacle was beyond their strength to remove; the stone that blocked the grave was very great. But this made no difference to God; and it was now rolled away.
On the road they had talked about a problem that no longer existed. One writer draws an everyday lesson from that.
They talk about how impossible it would be for them to roll the stone away from the door of the tomb. They find, as we so often do, that it is useless to worry about difficulties before they come. The stone was already rolled away, a thing which they could not have done.
The women arrive to find that God has been there first.
Coming to the grave, these devoted women find that God had been there before them, and the stone is rolled away. It was not moved so the body of the Lord could leave the grave. It was moved so disciples could go in and see that the place where He had been laid is empty. No stone, however great, could hold the body of the Lord in the grave.
The stone was never a barrier to Christ. It was moved for the people who would look in, not for the Saviour.
Heaven broke the seal that man put on the tomb. But mark it well: not to let the Saviour out of the tomb, but to let us look in… He passed through closed doors on the first day after His resurrection. He could just as easily rise out of the tomb despite its thick walls. No human eye saw Him rise. He rose in wonderful power, raised by the glory of the Father. He deliberately left the linen clothes He had been wrapped in, and put the head napkin in a place by itself. All this shows nothing hurried. It shows that He was completely Master of the situation.
The state of the grave points to the same conclusion.
But when Mary Magdalene came to the tomb, an angel had come down from heaven and already rolled the very large stone away from its mouth. The Lord was no longer there. He was risen, in divine power, in perfect calmness. All the grave-clothes lay in good order in the tomb… The great stone was no obstacle to the Lord's going out.
Their slow faith strengthens the record rather than weakening it.
Love and faith were clearly there. But as yet their faith was dull and had no understanding of His resurrection… Their dullness only makes the proofs clearer. In the end those proofs overwhelmed them with the conviction that He was risen.
- Stone — the worry. They spent the walk worrying about an obstacle that was already gone. Fearing trouble ahead proved useless.
- Stone — too great. Mark notes its size: too heavy for them to move, and no problem at all to God.
- Stone — moved before they came. God had been there first; no stone, however great, could hold the Lord in the grave.
- Stone — moved for them. Heaven moved it not to release the Saviour, but so that people could look in and see the place empty.
- Stone — turned into proof. Their slow faith makes the evidence that convinced them harder to dismiss.
And entering into the sepulchre, they saw a young man sitting on the right, clothed in a white robe, and they were amazed and alarmed;
The women reach the tomb expecting it to be sealed, and instead they find the stone gone and a young man in white sitting inside. Who is he, and why does the sight of him leave them terrified?
God had moved the great stone before the women arrived, and He had a reason for it.
Coming to the grave, these devoted women find that God had been there before them, and the stone is rolled away. It was not moved so that the body of the Lord could leave the grave. It was moved so that the disciples could go in and see that the place where He had been laid is empty. No stone, however great, could hold the body of the Lord in the grave.
The soldiers guarding the tomb had already met this same messenger. He looked nothing like this to them.
The angel appeared to the frightened women as "a young man … dressed in a white robe." A little earlier he had appeared to the guards with a face "like lightning, and his clothing white as snow," so that they were left as if paralysed. He was one thing to the world and quite another to disciples. He knew how to tell the difference, and he knew that these women were seeking Jesus, though they thought Him to be still in death.
Luke reports two men at the tomb. Critics use that difference to set the Gospel records against each other.
Here in verse 5 we read of "a young man." Against this, "critical" writers set Luke's "two men" (Luke 24:4). The women were trembling. Only one of the angels, we may suppose, was the spokesman, and he was the one who drew their attention.
Mark's Gospel has already told of a young man who fled at the arrest of Jesus. Now another young man appears.
They go into the tomb and see the angel as a young man sitting on the right side, dressed in a long white robe. A young man had fled when our Lord was arrested; the most courageous of earth could not stand firm then. Here, a witness from heaven, clothed in purity, tells of our Lord's victory.
Mark uses the same word for their reaction that he uses for the Lord's own agony.
We may also note that the word meaning "amazed" in Mark 9 is a little stronger in force than what is nearly the same word in chapter 10. It is the same word in the last chapter, where the older Authorised Version says the women were "affrighted." But the Revised Version, as in so many cases like this, gives the stricter rendering, "amazed." In fact, no English word could express the very forceful original better, for the word itself is most forceful. Let me point to one more passage: "He began to be greatly amazed and deeply distressed" — this in Mark 14:33.
(The ESV says the women "were alarmed"; in Mark 14:33 it says Jesus "began to be greatly distressed and troubled." Older translations read "affrighted" and "sore amazed.")
The angel's first words end their fear. The reason lies in who else was there, unseen.
Their terror vanishes: this is the use the angels make of the resurrection of Christ. Fear is natural to man in a ruined world where sin reigns. Now the resurrection proclaims the victory. These women stood in the presence of angels, but they were really in the presence of One greater than angels, whom they did not see — Jesus risen from the dead. Even the saints are called to a greater blessing than the angels have. Why should they be afraid? The saints are brought into a nearness to God that angels never had and never can have. … Though these women were converted then, they had not yet received the Spirit of adoption, and what power can there be without that? There may be the instincts of a new life, but no peace and no spiritual energy.
They came knowing little about the resurrection, but they came looking for Jesus.
They were seeking Jesus, and because of that, despite much ignorance and unbelief, all would be well. What are we seeking? Is Jesus the object of our hearts? As someone has said, "It is the devotion of the heart to the Lord that brings light and understanding to the soul." … The measure in which we "seek Jesus" is the measure in which we get light.
- Seeking. The women came looking for a dead body. They knew almost nothing about resurrection. Love for Christ, not knowledge, opened the tomb's message to them.
- Entering. The stone moved for their sake, not His. God moved it so that they could go in and see the empty place.
- Seeing. The angel appeared as a young man in white. He terrified the guards and calmed the women. The same messenger meets unbelief and faith in different ways.
- Trembling. Their alarm is Mark's strongest word, the one he uses of the Lord's own agony. The angel answers it with one fact: Christ is risen.
- Standing. A young man fled at the arrest; a young man now sits in victory. And the women he calms are called to a place above the angels.
but he says to them, Be not alarmed. Ye seek Jesus, the Nazarene, the crucified one. He is risen, he is not here; behold the place where they had put him.
The women came to the tomb expecting a dead body, and instead met a messenger with news. In a few words he takes their fear away and points them to an empty place.
The guards at the tomb had already seen this same messenger. There the effect was very different:
To the frightened women the angel appeared as "a young man… dressed in a white robe." A little before, he had appeared to the guards as one whose appearance was "like lightning, and his clothing white as snow." They froze, paralysed. He was one thing to the world and quite another to disciples. He knew how to tell one from the other. He knew these women were seeking Jesus, even though they thought He was still dead. They were ignorant, yet they loved Him; and that made all the difference.
Why should the women stop being afraid? One commentator answers from the resurrection itself:
Their terror vanishes: this is the use the angels make of the resurrection of Christ. Fear is natural to man in a ruined world where sin reigns. Adam had no reason to fear until the fall. What ground has a believer for fear now, since Christ, who died for him, is risen?
The same writer goes further. Someone greater than the angel was in that tomb:
Now the resurrection proclaims the victory. These women stood in the presence of angels. But they were in the presence of one greater than angels, whom they did not see — Jesus risen from the dead. Even the saints are called to blessing greater than angels. They are brought into a nearness to God that angels never had and never can have. The saints will reign with Christ; angels never do.
The angel calls Him by a name that carried dishonour among people. Yet that name follows Him all the way into glory:
But if this title is one of dishonour and disrepute among men, angels are not ashamed to use it. The angel at the tomb said to Mary Magdalene, "You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified" (Mark 16:6). The apostles in their preaching testified to Jesus of Nazareth expressly under this name, as the crucified but risen and glorified Messiah and Lord (Acts 2:22; Acts 3:6; Acts 4:10; Acts 10:38). More striking still, the exalted One Himself spoke from the glory to Saul of Tarsus, a fierce Jew and proud Pharisee. He called Himself by that name of reproach: "I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom you are persecuting" (Acts 22:8).
The angel begins by naming what they were doing: seeking Jesus. One writer makes that the key to everything else:
They were seeking Jesus. Since this was so, despite much ignorance and unbelief, all would be well. What are we seeking? Is Jesus the object of our hearts?… The measure in which we "seek Jesus" is the measure in which we get light. We may seek many things that are good in themselves but fall short of Jesus. We may seek souls, seek service, the good of others, and the welfare of the saints. But if we "seek Jesus," everything else falls into its right place and we find light for our path.
The angel tells them to look at an empty place. One writer explains who moved the stone, and why:
Coming to the grave these devoted women find that God had been there before them, and the stone is rolled away. It was not moved so that the body of the Lord could leave the grave. It was moved so that disciples could go in and see that the place where He had been laid is empty. No stone, however great, could hold the body of the Lord in the grave.
Mark's account does not end with the women rejoicing. One writer names what they still lacked:
They little knew the power of resurrection yet. They knew the fact, but not the power.
- Seek — the women came in ignorance but they came for Jesus, and that is why all was well with them.
- Hear — the messenger who terrified armed guards told these women not to be alarmed; he knew who was in front of him.
- Look — the stone moved not to release Him but to let others see the empty place where He had lain.
- Own — angels use the name of scorn, "Jesus of Nazareth." So do the apostles. So does the glorified Christ Himself.
- Live — knowing the fact of the resurrection is not yet knowing its power.
But go, tell his disciples and Peter, he goes before you into Galilee; there shall ye see him, as he said to you.
The angel's message at the empty tomb names one man out of the group — the one who had denied Jesus days before. Why add the two words "and Peter," and why Galilee?
Peter is not named because he had done best. He is named because he was in the worst state. Peter longed to have it out with the Lord after his fall, and the Lord wanted that meeting too.
Peter wanted to have it all out with the Lord, and the Lord wanted it too — for Peter's sake. Nothing damages a soul more than an unsettled question between it and the Lord... Why Peter? Why is he the only one that is named? Because he was the one that most needed it. Love always goes out most where there is need most.
A general message to "the disciples" would have left Peter free to exclude himself.
Why "and Peter"? Oh, the grace of it! If the message had been for the disciples in general, poor cursing Peter would hardly have dared to claim a part in it. But the touching addition, "and Peter," assured his heart. Despite his terrible fall, his Lord still acknowledged him.
Notice what the message does not say. There is no rebuke, no condition, no trial period. The old words stand, and Peter's old place stands with them.
An angel's message assures Peter that he still has his place among the other disciples. One might have thought he could no longer be counted with them. The message takes no notice of any breach, so it attempts no repair. It is the Master of former days, and the old words to be fulfilled, and the disciple as of old. There is no breach: He will not allow one.
Mark himself once turned back from the Lord's work. One writer finds that no accident.
It is very instructive to see who wrote this. John, whose surname was Mark, had broken down in his own service. For a while he turned back from the Lord's work (see Acts 13:13). Yet God used him to record the sentence, "Go, tell his disciples and Peter" — a message of deep comfort to another servant who had also broken down. Unless we have broken down ourselves, we are not able to help those who have broken down.
The meeting place is not chosen at random.
The link between Jesus and His disciples here below would indeed be broken. But He would not be the one to forsake them... Still, the hand of God was in all this. He would strike the Shepherd. But once He rose from the dead, Jesus would take up His relationship with His disciples again — with the poor of the flock. He would go before them to Galilee, the place where this relationship began. Galilee lay far from the pride of the nation. There the light had appeared among them, as the word of God had said.
The prophecy Jesus pointed them to did not stop at the scattering. The writer quotes Zechariah in an older translation. It reads "turn my hand upon the little ones," where the ESV has "against."
He warned them of what lay ahead. He pointed them to the prophecy of Zechariah, which foretold the striking of the Lord's Shepherd and the scattering of the sheep. But the prophet went on to say, "and I will turn my hand upon the little ones"... His sheep as a nation were scattered. But the "little ones" — whom Zechariah elsewhere calls "the poor of the flock" — were gathered again on a new basis, once the Shepherd had risen from the dead. So He was to meet them not in Jerusalem but in Galilee.
The closing phrase anchors everything to a promise already spoken — and stretches beyond that one morning.
As in the days of His life here, so now in resurrection, He will "go before" His disciples to lead the way. They will "see Him," and all will come to pass "as He said." May we not say something wider still? Despite the ruin of the church in its responsibility, and the scattering and failure of God's people, the time is coming when He will gather all His sheep around Himself, our risen and glorious Lord. We shall see Him face to face, and every word He has spoken will be fulfilled.
- Need — Peter is named because he needed it most; love moves toward the deepest need, not the best record.
- Named — A message to "the disciples" alone would have let Peter rule himself out. The added name made that impossible.
- No breach — Nothing needs repair, because the Lord allows no break: the same Master, the same words, the same disciple.
- Gathered — The struck Shepherd rises and goes ahead of the scattered flock, back to Galilee, where He first gathered them.
- As He said — Every word the Lord spoke will come true, right on to the day His people see Him face to face.
And they went out, and fled from the sepulchre. And trembling and excessive amazement possessed them, and they said nothing to any one, for they were afraid.
The women leave the tomb with the news of the resurrection, and they say nothing to anyone. Some of the oldest copies of Mark also stop right here, on the word "afraid."
Saying nothing to anyone looks like a contradiction, because the disciples did get the message. One writer answers by asking where the silence happened.
The only passage here which presents any difficulty is "they said nothing to anyone," Mark 16:8. From verse 7 it is clear that in the end they did tell the disciples. It was only while they were going (fleeing) that they said nothing to anyone on the road, until they reached the disciples.
Another writer fits the accounts together the same way, and marks where the silence ended.
Then other women (Luke 24:10) come. They see the angels and flee. While fleeing they say nothing to anyone, until they meet Jesus. His words rally them, so they deliver their message about Galilee to the eleven.
The women were not short of information. One writer names what they still lacked.
They little knew the power of resurrection yet: they knew the fact, but not the power.
What was still missing was a Person, not more evidence — and that shortfall is not only theirs.
They had seen the empty tomb, they had listened to the angel, but Jesus they had not seen. As we read in the gospel of Luke, "but Him they did not see." Apart from Christ Himself, the great stone rolled away, the empty tomb, the vision of angels, only leave us trembling and amazed.
The argument is over verses 9–20, and the copies pull in two directions.
Up to this point (16:8) all agree that Mark wrote. Did his Gospel end there? If so, it ended very abruptly, quite unlike the other writers, whose histories are not cut short in any such way. The genuineness of what follows (9–20) has been much questioned. Of several manuscripts, the two oldest leave out the rest. On the other hand, by far the greater number have it, though in a few it appears with variations. And translations older than any manuscript we have include the passage as part of the Gospel of Mark.
One writer also weighs the short ending against the aim of this Gospel. Mark's subject is the servant Son of God and His ministry.
Had the gospel ended without this, we would have had a real gap, which ought to have been felt... Chapter 16 would have closed with the silence of the women and its cause, "for they were afraid." What conclusion could be less worthy of the servant Son of God! ... Can anyone who knows the character of the Lord and of His ministry imagine such an ending for a moment? Would we be left with nothing but a message blocked by the alarm of women?
Not everyone reads the abrupt ending as a flaw. One writer looks for meaning in the fear itself.
If nothing here is without a purpose — and we are not going to question that — then this non-fulfilment, this fear instead of joy, must have some meaning for us. Christ is come, Christ is risen. There is a promise for believing Israelites which, as such, is not fulfilled for them. In short, their history, and the history of the ministry to the Jews, with which Peter's name is especially connected, is just such a broken fragment as we are given here. It will be completed, but only in another age, after the period of the Church's history is over, when Israelites turned to God share again in the hopes and promises of the nation.
Read on, and the silence here is the first of several failures in witness. One voice breaks through them all.
We see then that in each case the testimony given through His own fails. That would leave us discouraged, except that the value of His own direct word shines out by contrast... Notice now the result of His direct speaking to them: "So then after the Lord had spoken to them … they went out and preached everywhere." What a contrast! And has it no lesson for us? As believers, do we not want Him to speak directly to us in His word?
- Silence — the women told no one on the way; the message reached the disciples once they arrived.
- Fact — they had the report of the resurrection and still shook; knowing the fact is not yet knowing the power.
- Absence — a rolled stone, an empty tomb and an angel, without Christ Himself, leave a person trembling and amazed.
- Ending — the two oldest manuscripts stop here; most others, and the older translations, carry on. Commentators differ on the silence. One calls a close on fear unworthy of the servant Son of God. Another reads the broken fragment as Israel's unfinished story.
- Voice — every human witness in this chapter fails. Then the Lord speaks Himself, and they go out and preach everywhere.
Now when he had risen very early, the first [day] of the week, he appeared first to Mary of Magdala, out of whom he had cast seven demons.
Mark turns from the empty tomb to the risen Christ, and the first to see Him is a woman He had freed from seven demons. That raises three questions: why her, what the seven demons mean, and whether these last verses are really Mark's.
Only here does Mark tie Mary's name to her past.
Mark has mentioned Mary Magdalene before, but only here does he add to her name, "from whom he had cast out seven demons." The two facts stand together. The Son of God came, as we know, to destroy the works of the devil. He was revealed for that purpose. Jesus had already broken Satan's power over Mary Magdalene. His appearing first to her, as the risen conqueror of Satan, confirmed that defeat still more.
So one woman carries two testimonies.
The one who was a witness to the Lord's power over demons, now becomes a witness to His power over death.
People have long named homes for fallen women after Mary, assuming her past was sexual. One writer answers that Scripture never says so.
People have badly slandered Mary of Magdala, as if she had been an immoral woman. Scripture does not speak of her that way, and neither should we, even though people name homes for fallen women after her. What is written is, "from whom he had cast out seven demons" (Mark 16:9)… Demons had held Mary of Magdala in a special way.
One writer asks why the Lord chose her, and points to what her rescue had done in her heart.
Why does the Lord Jesus single her out for His first appearing? It was her affection put her in the place where the Lord could reveal Himself to her, as He does. Satanic power had held her completely, but Jesus had cast the seven demons out. From that hour she felt the glory of her Deliverer, and remembered what she owed to Him who had delivered her. That bound this dear woman's heart to the Lord Jesus.
He did the same for the other women who sought Him, and one writer draws a promise from it:
The Lord revealed Himself to every one of those beloved women before He revealed Himself to anyone else (compare Mark 16:9)… Let us take it to heart that our faithful Lord will meet everyone who is truly seeking Him. As it is written, "You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart" (Jer. 29:13).
The Gospel accounts of that morning are hard to line up. One writer treats that difficulty as a mark of honesty.
It seems impossible to fit together all the different accounts of the movements of that morning… Should these differences trouble anyone and weaken confidence that the accounts are genuine? Just the opposite. Impostors would have tried to make the accounts agree. But the writers of Scripture were sure that what they wrote was true, so they never tried. On one fact Mark and John agree: the Lord appeared first to Mary (Mark 16:9; John 20:11-16).
This appearance opened a series of meetings packed into one day:
First, the Lord appeared to Mary Magdalene (Mark 16:9); then to her again with the other Mary (Matt. 28:1, 9); to Cleopas and his companion on the way to Emmaus (Luke 24:15); to Peter alone (Luke 24:34); to the disciples gathered together (John 20:19). All of them learned the joyful news of the Master's resurrection on the first day of the week.
Verse 9 opens a section that some of the earliest manuscripts leave out, and the debate over it is old. One writer answers from the age of the evidence and from the wording itself.
There is no doubt that this section stood in its present place in the second century — that is, before any surviving witness that leaves it out or questions who wrote it… The thought and the wording point to Mark alone. So it is genuine as well as authentic.
Another writer rests the case on how the ending fits the book.
The closing verses fit the spirit of the whole Gospel perfectly. If that is proved, it is a stronger argument for their authenticity than everything ever produced against them.
- First in bondage. Seven demons once held Mary. The record says nothing more about her past, so neither should we.
- First in deliverance. The One who came to destroy the works of the devil had already broken Satan's grip on her.
- First in sight. Her affection kept her close, and the risen conqueror showed Himself to her before anyone else.
- First in testimony. She had seen His power over demons. Now she sees His power over death, first in a string of meetings that same day.
- First in the record. Mark and John agree on this appearance, and the ending that carries it stands as Mark's own.
*She* went and brought word to those that had been with him, [who were] grieving and weeping.
Mary Magdalene brings the first news of the resurrection to the disciples. She finds them in tears. Two things stand out: the Lord chose her to carry the news, and the people who most needed it were in no state to receive it.
Mark names Mary by her past before he describes her errand. One writer sees the two halves of her story matching each other:
The one who was a witness to the Lord's power over demons now becomes a witness to His power over death. She carries the glad news to the disciples, as they mourned and wept, that the Lord is risen. Sadly, though they heard the message, they did not believe.
She had already felt His power over Satan in her own life. Another writer argues that this is exactly what made her the right person to announce His victory over death:
Here we have a woman, and no ordinary woman: Mary Magdalene. Jesus, now dead and risen, had once cast seven demons out of her. Who then is so fit a witness of the resurrection power of God's Son? The Lord had come to destroy the works of the devil, and she knew this even before His death and resurrection. Who, I ask, is so suitable a herald of it as Mary of Magdala? … She had already proved by experience how blessed the ministry of Jesus was, when He delivered her from Satan's power. She was now about to announce a still more glorious ministry. For Jesus had now, by dying, destroyed Satan's power in death.
What moves her is not duty but attachment. A commentator ties her errand back to how much she had been forgiven:
It is deeply precious to be told that the risen Lord appeared first to a woman. She is the striking picture of a heart completely broken, whose sorrow turned to joy too great for words. We are told here too that the Lord had cast seven demons out of her. She had reason to love much. She became His messenger, and her message should have moved the disciples deeply.
Their tears were real, but they no longer matched the facts. Mary found the whole group out of step with the day:
The hearts of His disciples, His followers, are broken, hurt and hopeless. Nothing but gloom seems to settle down on them. Think of this, too: the apostles, the men Christ chose and sent, are not in tune with the occasion at all! They stand in perfect contrast with that glorious day. They are all in the darkness of uncertainty. The gloom of death and the grave covered their spirits, even though the resurrection had come and Jesus was alive again for ever.
Mary's report should have ended the mourning on the spot. Instead it met a wall, and Mark records the failure without softening it:
It is very remarkable how simply the Gospel writers report the proofs of the disciples' unbelief. No one tries to cover it up. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John all tell it out plainly. They did not know the Scriptures, says John, that He must rise from the dead. They saw the fact, but did not take in how it fitted with what God had purposed and said again and again.
That refusal did not end with them:
There, in very few words, you have the facts about Mary and the effect of her testimony. No one believed her. Now there is something very solemn in that… Nothing could be more blessed than the message she carried. It is so solemn to feel it was not believed. And it is not believed today.
Mary does not keep the sight to herself, and neither do the two who later walked to Emmaus. One writer draws the rule from their hurry back to Jerusalem:
They must return at once, and let those at Jerusalem who had been mourning and weeping know what they had to tell. Spiritual joy is unselfish. There is the desire that others should share in it.
- Rescued. Jesus had cast seven demons out of Mary. The woman He freed from Satan's power is the fitting witness that Satan's power in death is now destroyed.
- Loved. She "had reason to love much." Her broken heart was the first to see the risen Lord, and her sorrow turned to joy too great for words.
- Sent. She goes straight to those who had been with Him. Spiritual joy is unselfish: it wants others to share it.
- Mourning. She finds them weeping on the most glorious of days. Their sorrow had outlived its cause.
- Unbelief. They heard and did not believe. The Gospel writers hide none of it, and the same message still meets the same refusal today.
And when these heard that he was alive and had been seen of her, they disbelieved [it].
Mark's last chapter records something strange: Mary brings news that Jesus is alive, and the people who loved Him most refuse to believe her. Why did they refuse it, and why did the Gospel writers keep that refusal on the record?
Mark pairs Mary's name with the seven demons Jesus had driven out of her. One writer sees a purpose in that pairing.
Mark has mentioned Mary Magdalene before. Only here does he add to her name the words "from whom he had cast out seven demons." The two facts stand together. The Son of God comes, as we know, to destroy the works of the devil. He appeared for that purpose. Satan's power over Mary had already been broken. That defeat was confirmed still further when the risen conqueror of Satan appeared first to her.
The same qualification that made her fit to testify made her easy to dismiss. What she had once been is precisely what the record refuses to hide.
Her earlier deliverance and her present errand are read as one line of testimony.
The one who was a witness to the Lord's power over demons, now becomes a witness to His power over death. She carries the glad news that the Lord is risen to the disciples as they mourned and wept. Sadly, though they heard the message, they did not believe.
They were not short of evidence. They were short of Scripture.
It is very remarkable how simply the Gospel writers report the proofs of the disciples' unbelief. They make no effort to cover it up. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John all tell it out plainly. They did not know the Scriptures, John says, that He must rise from the dead. They saw the fact, but did not take in its link with the repeated counsels of God. They believed it on the strength of the evidence before their eyes. They had not yet entered into it by faith, as they soon would.
Mary's rejection was not the only one. One writer notes what happens when the Lord's own people carry the message, and what happens when He speaks Himself.
We see then that in each case the testimony given through His own fails. That could leave us cast down, except that the value of His own direct word shines out by contrast. So long as He is glorified, that is all we want... Then He adds those memorable words, "Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation." Notice now the result of His direct speaking to them. "So then the Lord Jesus, after he had spoken to them … they went out and preached everywhere." What a contrast! And has it no lesson for us?
Their slowness has an unexpected value. One writer points to what it proves about the men themselves.
Mark, too, tells of the Lord's appearing to Mary Magdalene, and afterwards to the eleven. Up to that point they had firmly refused to believe the testimony of those who said He was risen. So we are not dealing with men who would believe anything. We are dealing with men who needed to be truly convinced of a fact on which so much depended.
Mary carried a message the Lord Himself had given her, recorded in John 20. One writer says the refusal of that message did not end with those first disciples.
That is the short account of the facts about Mary and the effect of her testimony. They did not believe her. There is something very solemn in that, if we remember the message which the Lord gave her in John 20. Nothing could be more blessed than the message she carried. It is so solemn to feel that it was not believed. And it is not believed today. Very few believers today have real faith in the message that Mary Magdalene carried at that time.
- Chosen — the woman Jesus had freed from seven demons was the first to see Him risen. His victory over Satan showed in the messenger He picked.
- Deaf — they heard the news, but they did not know the Scriptures that said He must rise. The fact reached their eyes and not their faith.
- Recorded — none of the four Gospel writers hides the disciples' unbelief. All four tell it plainly.
- Credited — that stubbornness makes them reliable witnesses. Men this hard to convince would not believe just anything.
- Spoken — every report passed on by others falls flat. When the Lord Himself speaks, the same men go out and preach everywhere.
And after these things he was manifested in another form to two of them as they walked, going into the country;
Mark gives the whole Emmaus road journey a single sentence, and then moves on. Two questions sit inside that sentence. What does "in another form" mean? And why does Mark hurry past a story Luke tells at length?
Luke devotes most of a chapter to what Mark packs into a line. Commentators note the contrast openly:
Next our writer gives us fully, and with the most touching detail, that appearing of the risen Lord which the Gospel of Mark sums up in a single verse.
Mark's compression is not carelessness. His closing chapter keeps returning to one thing — how the news was received:
Here, in Mark, one thing stands out: the disciples would not accept Mary's testimony that she had seen the Lord. They would not accept the testimony of the two who had travelled that day to Emmaus either. They believed that the Lord had appeared to Peter, an apostle (Luke 24:34). They did not believe He had appeared to the others.
These two are the pair Luke describes on the road to Emmaus. Mark places their meeting second, after Mary's, and their direction of travel tells the story:
Second comes His appearance to the two going into the country, which Luke gives us in such detail. These men had not denied Him like Peter. But they had so lost heart that they were drifting away from Jerusalem with no aim. It was as if they now wanted to turn their backs on a place filled for them with broken hopes and a most tragic loss and disappointment. Then they saw the risen Christ. That sight turned their footsteps around and brought them back to their brothers with the glad news.
One writer draws a lesson from where they stood and where they walked:
Let us remember they were of the company at Jerusalem, but not in their place. They were walking away, as if all were over and lost. Things had turned out very differently from what they had expected. They were sadly disappointed. Is not this a picture of many today?
The word translated "form" here is rare. One writer traces where else it appears:
The word translated "formed" in Galatians 4:19 is used only there in the New Testament. It comes from a similar word meaning form, which is used three times, always of our Lord (Mark 16:12; Phil. 2:6-7).
Commentators differ on the reason for the change. One writer offers a suggestion:
In His divine power our Lord can show Himself at any time in various ways and forms, for Omnipotence can do all things. But a clear difference seems to be present here. He could have appeared to them just as He was before His death. The suggestion, though, is that in resurrection He was not on the same level as before. He was on a higher one, where then and now faith alone can grasp Him... And what about His own promise in Matthew: "I am with you always, to the end of the age"? It assures us that even if our eyes are held so that we do not recognise Him, He is with His people in person — our blessed, risen Lord.
Another writer connects His risen appearances with how He had appeared long before:
In His risen days He took different forms, to suit, in divine grace, the need or demand of the moment; as He had done long before, whether as a stranger or a visitor.
The two come back with news, and no one believes them. That failure runs through the whole chapter. One writer sets it against something that does not fail:
We see, then, that in each case the testimony given through His own people fails. That could leave us cast down. But the value of His own direct word shines out by contrast, for so long as He is glorified, that is all we want... Now notice the result when He spoke to them directly: "So then the Lord Jesus, after he had spoken to them... they went out and preached everywhere." What a contrast!
That stubbornness, however, serves a purpose for later readers:
Even that did not overcome their unbelief and low spirits. It is just as well for us that it was so. Resurrection carries us outside the present order of things. His resurrection is a fact of such immense importance that it needed repeated evidence of a kind no one could question.
- One line — Mark sums up in one verse the journey Luke tells in full. His interest is not the road but how people received the news.
- Two walkers — they belonged to the company at Jerusalem, but they were not in their place. They drifted away from a city of broken hopes, until the sight of the risen Christ turned them back.
- Another form — the word for "form" is used three times in the New Testament, always of the Lord.
- Faith's level — writers differ on why they did not know Him. One suggests resurrection set Him on a higher level, which faith alone can grasp. Another sees grace taking the form the moment needed. Either way, He is with His people even when they do not recognise Him.
- His own word — every human testimony in this chapter fails. Only when the Lord Himself spoke did they go out and preach everywhere.
and *they* went and brought word to the rest; neither did they believe them.
Mark's closing summary moves fast. Two disciples meet the risen Lord on the road and hurry back with the news, and the rest refuse to believe them. Why does Mark end his Gospel by piling up the failures of the very people who would soon carry the message to the world?
Mark gives one line. Commentators match it with Luke's fuller account and name the pair.
He appeared to two disciples as they were walking into the country. These were clearly the two spoken of in Luke 24:13-33, Cleopas and his companion. It is said that He appeared in another form, and neither Mary nor these two knew Him when they first saw Him. Luke 24:16 tells us that their eyes were kept from recognizing Him. Why it says "another form" I do not know. When these disciples told the others what they had seen, the others still did not believe.
The other Gospels stress the faith of the disciples. Mark stresses their unbelief. One writer suggests that both were present at once in the same hearts.
This is hard to line up with the accounts in the other Gospels, as writers admit. There, faith is stressed; here, unbelief. A possible answer is this. In Mark, in each of these appearings, unbelief stands out in the story, and it may have gone side by side with faith. Both are in our own hearts, as we know. Perhaps each had a place in the hearts of the disciples. They could believe and yet not fully believe. They could rejoice and yet not be fully sure.
Not everyone in the room refused, as another writer points out.
There were some exceptions to this, however, for Luke 24:33-34 shows that some told them the Lord was risen and had appeared to Simon. At least some had believed Simon when he told what had happened to him. But Mark does not mention this.
Why were they so slow? One writer does not point to a shortage of proof. He points to the hardness of our own hearts.
Let me ask, does this slowness surprise us? I would say, it need not… "Is anything too hard for the LORD?" No; but our hearts are hard. Earlier, the apostles had not thought about the miracle of the loaves and the pieces they gathered up. That was because their hearts were hard (Mark 6:52). Here too, hardness of heart is what accounts for this unbelief. By nature we do not think of His power as it deserves, and we do not think of His grace as it deserves either… We are unwilling to receive any good news from God.
The two turned around and carried the good news back. It changed nothing in the room. One writer sees a benefit in that for us.
Seeing the risen Christ turned them round and brought them back to their brothers with the good news. Even that did not overcome their unbelieving gloom. It is just as well for us that it was so. Resurrection carries us outside the present order of things. His resurrection is a fact of such vast importance that it must rest on many proofs, and proofs no one can question.
Every report carried by His own people has failed so far. One writer draws the contrast with what happens next.
We see then that in each case the testimony given through His own people fails. We might well be cast down, except that the value of His own direct word shines out by contrast… Now notice the result when He speaks to them Himself. "So then the Lord Jesus, after He had spoken to them… they went out and preached everywhere." What a contrast! And has it no lesson for us? As believers, do we not want Him to speak directly to us, in His word?
The men who would not believe are the same men He sends out. Watch the order of what He does with them.
The risen Lord has here, in Mark, as in all the Gospels, to rebuke this unbelief of the apostles. But He removes it as well as rebukes it, pardoning it along the way. He then seals that pardon by the hand of a witness of great dignity. He puts them into the ministry. He entrusts the honour and power of His name to them in front of every creature.
- Cause — their refusal came from hard hearts, the same dullness seen earlier over the loaves. It was not a shortage of evidence.
- Condition — faith and unbelief may have sat side by side in them. Mark shows the unbelief; the other Gospels show the faith.
- Confirmation — because they resisted a true report, His resurrection rests on proof that no one can call easy belief.
- Contrast — every human report here fails. Only when the Lord speaks Himself do they go out and preach everywhere.
- Commission — He rebukes their unbelief and pardons it. Then He hands these same men His name to carry to every creature.
Afterwards as they lay at table he was manifested to the eleven, and reproached [them with] their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they had not believed those who had seen him risen.
In Mark's account, the risen Christ meets all eleven disciples together. He opens not with comfort but with rebuke. Why start by naming their failure — and then trust those same men with His message?
The charge is not that they doubted a strange rumour. They refused witnesses who told them what Jesus had already told them Himself.
Mark does not say that He reassured them. He says that He rebuked them for their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they would not receive what the other disciples said about His resurrection. There was no excuse for this, for the Lord had told them often before that He would rise again. Mark's theme was not the comfort of the disciples but their service. In that they had failed badly, because they had not taken His Word to heart. They needed the stirring that we need also.
The verse names two things and links them: unbelief, and the hardness underneath it. One writer turns that link into a question for the reader.
The Lord rebukes them for their unbelief, and that unbelief comes from the hardness of their hearts. Does not much of our own unbelief come from the same hardness — hearts that so often are unresponsive to His love and unimpressed by His word?
Hardness does more than doubt what God can do. It also turns away from what God offers.
By nature we do not think of His power as it deserves, and we do not think of His grace as it deserves either. We are all astray. We are unwilling to receive any good news from God. The resurrection of Jesus is the full fruit of divine grace. The news of it goes out far and wide, but we do not believe it, just because our hearts are hard.
The rebuke brought into the open what was already in their hearts. The lesson is simple.
Mark tells that the Lord rebuked them because of unbelief. That is to say, what was natural to the heart had come out, and the Lord rebuked it. The great lesson is this: the Lord Jesus does not like unbelief. He likes faith.
What follows the reproach is startling. He hands the world to the men He has just exposed.
The risen Lord has here, in Mark, as in all the Gospels, to rebuke this unbelief of the apostles. But He removes it as well as rebukes it, pardoning it along the way. He even seals that pardon through a witness of great dignity. He puts them into the ministry, committing the honour and power of His name to them before every creature.
That order has a reason. It is not that their unbelief mattered little.
We may well wonder at this. He had to rebuke them for their unbelief, and yet He sends them out to preach the Gospel so that others should believe. Yet, after all, the one who through hardness of heart has been stubborn in unbelief becomes a valuable witness to others, once he is fully won himself.
Commentators differ on whether this is the evening of the first Sunday. Some place it with the scene in Luke 24 and John 20; another argues from the detail of the meal that it may be separate.
This may not be one of the occasions given in more detail in Luke and John. Mark says they were "reclining at table" — more literally, lying at a meal. Take the account in Luke. He would hardly have asked, "Have you anything here to eat?" if they had been reclining at a meal. The presence of food would have been too obvious.
Report after report failed. Then He spoke to them Himself, and the men who would believe nobody went everywhere.
We see that in each case the testimony given through His own fails. One would be ready to lose heart, except that the value of His own direct word shines out by contrast... Then He adds those memorable words: "Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation." Notice now the result of His direct speaking to them: "So then the Lord Jesus, after he had spoken to them... they went out and preached everywhere." What a contrast! And has it no lesson for us? As believers, do we not want Him to speak directly to us in His word?
- Refused — their sin was not doubt about a strange story. They turned down witnesses who said what Jesus had already told them.
- Hardened — a hard heart lies under the unbelief: a heart unmoved by His love and unimpressed by His word.
- Grace — a hard heart misjudges God's power and refuses His good news. The resurrection is the full fruit of grace, and that is what it will not receive.
- Restored — He does not only rebuke the unbelief. He removes it, pardons them, and puts His name and ministry in their hands.
- Sent — the man fully won out of his own stubbornness makes a valuable witness. His direct word turned doubters into preachers everywhere.
And he said to them, Go into all the world, and preach the glad tidings to all the creation.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
He that believes and is baptised shall be saved, and he that disbelieves shall be condemned.
Mark's closing commission raises a question people still argue over. Faith and baptism stand together on one side of this verse, but only unbelief stands on the other — so why?
Note: some older translations read "damned" where the ESV reads "condemned."
Mark's account of the Lord's final charge is the plainest one:
Mark bears testimony to the ministry, to the service of Christ in the gospel. Here the word to them is, "Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation." This is the most simple, the most general mission… It was quite simply the preaching of the gospel for the salvation of souls, and the judgment of those who would not believe.
So everything turns on how the hearer responds:
Matthew's commission implies faith. Here it is insisted on: "Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved." On the other hand, "whoever does not believe" — no baptism affects the case of such a person — "will be condemned."
The second half of the verse names only unbelief. Baptism cannot rescue anyone who does not believe:
The text says, "Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved." But whether a man is baptized or not, it asserts that "whoever does not believe will be condemned." So baptism does not save the unbeliever. No, it does not in any degree exempt him from the common doom of all the ungodly. He may have baptism, or he may not have baptism, but if he does not believe, he will in any case most surely be condemned.
Baptism by itself settles nothing either way:
Nothing is said of baptism in this case, for one might be baptized and yet be judged; or one might not be baptized, and not be judged.
If baptism does not save, why does the Lord name it at all? Because what a person believes is meant to be openly confessed:
What matters is not only the truth, but that it should be openly and formally confessed before God and man. Baptism, after all, clearly does proclaim in symbol the death and resurrection of Christ; that is the value of it… Do not pretend that you have received Christ, and then dodge all the difficulties and dangers of the confession… Still, a man might profess to believe as much as he liked. If he shrank from publicly owning Him in whom he believed, his profession of faith was good for nothing. It could not be accepted as real.
One writer applies this to someone outside Israel who believed but held back from baptism:
Mark 16:16 brings in faith on preaching. Now, if a person outside Israel believed Jesus was Son of God, and refused to be baptized, he refused to be a Christian when he knew he ought to be. For him it was refusing the confession that leads to salvation. It has nothing to do with any power in baptism.
Commentators differ over the order of the words. Some take "saved" here to cover more than the soul's eternal standing:
Notice He does not say that he who believed and was saved should be baptized. Rather, there is an aspect of salvation that is found in being baptized. Compare 1 Peter 3:21 and Acts 2:40. In this latter verse the Jews were urged to save themselves from "this crooked generation." In being baptized they were saving themselves (not saving their souls) from a generation that had rejected the Lord Jesus.
Others hold that the act only announces what faith has already secured:
The salvation is proclaimed in the act as it is secured by the faith.
The harshest word in the sentence deserves attention for whose mouth it came from:
People say, "I don't like preachers to use that word 'damned'; it is not loving, or gracious." Let me ask you a question. From whose lips did that terrible word fall? From the lips of the Son of God. From Him who came down from heights of glory beyond compare. From Him who laid aside all His glory, and came into this world as the carpenter's son.
- Preach — Mark's commission is the simplest: the gospel goes to everyone, and the hearer's response decides everything.
- Believe — faith is the hinge of the verse. The second half drops baptism, so no ritual spares an unbeliever from judgment.
- Confess — baptism proclaims Christ's death and resurrection before God and man. A professed faith that will not own Him openly "could not be accepted as real."
- Distinguish — commentators differ. Some see a real outward salvation in baptism (see 1 Peter 3:21 and Acts 2:40). Others see the act only proclaiming what faith secures.
- Heed — the warning came from the lips of the Son of God, the same lips that sent the good news to every creature.
And these signs shall follow those that have believed in my name they shall cast out demons; they shall speak with new tongues;
Mark's Gospel closes with the risen Jesus sending His disciples out to preach. He attaches a list of visible signs to that sending. Two questions still divide readers: who are the signs promised to, and how long were they to last?
Casting out demons comes first, and it happens in the name of a Master who has gone away. One writer shows why His absence would leave His servants stronger, not weaker.
"In My name they will cast out demons." He begins with power over Satan. They were to go out in the power of His resurrection. He was going away, but that would not cost them power. They would gain instead… The Jews thought that all the great works were to be done while the Messiah was on earth. Not so. In His name, while He is absent, His servants would cast out demons. "They will speak in new tongues." What a wonderful testimony of God's grace towards all men! They were now to speak of His wonderful works in the languages by which God had confused men at the tower of Babel. This was fulfilled first on the day of Pentecost to the Jews, then to the Gentiles in due time.
Demons come first on the list for a reason. One writer points to what stood behind the religions of the ancient world.
Satan had taken the world for himself, largely through the religions of men… "What pagans sacrifice they offer to demons and not to God," says the apostle (1 Cor. 10:20). In Egypt, when God brought His people out, the judgments that freed them fell on Egypt's gods. It is the same now in Christianity. "In My name they will cast out demons" proclaims Christ's supremacy over the religious rulers of the pagan world.
Taken together, the five signs are not a random assortment. They make one double announcement.
The first sign should be their dominion over evil spirits, the second, the proof of that grace which went beyond the narrow limits of Israel, addressing itself to all the world. They should speak various languages… In a word, it should be the overthrow of the power of the enemy over man, and the proclamation of grace to all men.
The verse ties the signs to believing, not to any qualification in the preacher.
Second, the Lord states that these signs will follow, with no conditions to be met first by the preacher. There is no requirement that he must have a special "baptism of the Spirit," as people often insist. If men believe, these signs will follow. That is what the Lord says. All you could conclude from their absence is that no one has truly believed.
That last line is deliberately absurd, and the same writer answers it. The promise never said what readers add to it.
Some people seem to read words into this statement that are not there. It does not say that these signs will follow all who believe, in all places, and for all time. If it did, we would be forced to conclude that hardly anyone today has believed the gospel — and that we have not even believed it ourselves!
One writer works from an older translation, which reads "those that have believed" where the ESV has "those who believe." He compares Mark's ending with Matthew's.
There is not a word here about time. It is not all who believe, but "those that have believed." And it is not said of those who believe right on to the end of the age. Nothing of the kind is hinted at. In Matthew it is different. There the Lord tells them to make disciples of all nations, baptizing and teaching them, and He promises them His presence to the end of the age… Our Lord's word came true to the letter in the particular period when these signs were given. But nothing bound them to last forever.
Commentators differ on why the signs faded. Some say the signs had finished their work:
They had miraculous gifts to give them credentials with the people they preached to. But the main thing was not these gifts. It was what God placed in people's hearts through them. The miraculous gifts served the spiritual part of their work — evangelizing, pastoring, teaching — the way scaffolding serves a building. The scaffold comes down once the building is finished.
Others blame the failure of Christians, and read the open wording as a test:
Why is the power in the church now not the same as in the days of the apostles? Clearly because of man's unfaithfulness. The promise in Mark is not made to the apostles, but to those who believed through the apostles' ministry. It did follow those who believed, and that promise was fulfilled. It is left vague, because it was to be the proof of the church's faithfulness with what God entrusted to it — and the church failed.
- Name. The signs work in Christ's name. His going away cost His servants no power. They went out in the power of His resurrection.
- No rivals. Demons are cast out first. That announces Christ's supremacy over the powers behind the world's religions, just as God's judgments in Egypt fell on Egypt's gods.
- Nations. New tongues undo Babel. They carried God's works to the Jews at Pentecost and then to the Gentiles — a testimony of His grace towards all men.
- Not the preacher. The promise is tied to believing, not to a special experience first. And it was never given for all places and all times, so missing signs today prove nothing about anyone's faith.
- No clock. In Matthew the Lord promises His presence "to the end of the age." In Mark He sets no such limit on the signs. Writers differ on why the signs stopped: some say they had finished their work as credentials, others blame the unfaithfulness of Christians.
they shall take up serpents; and if they should drink any deadly thing it shall not injure them; they shall lay hands upon the infirm, and they shall be well.
Mark's Gospel ends with five signs promised to those who believe, and the two strangest of them sit in this verse. Readers ask what these signs meant, whether they happened, and whether they belong to believers today.
The serpent is not chosen at random. One writer takes it as the visible symbol of Satan's power in the world:
"They will pick up serpents with their hands" — the outward symbol of Satan's power in this world. Man has hated the snake by instinct since the fall, unless he is so foolish as to worship it. "And if they drink any deadly poison, it will not hurt them." No power in nature, living or lifeless, could prevail against them. Instead, "they will lay their hands on the sick, and they will recover." The good power in His name overcomes evil and drives it out.
Taken together, the promises form a pattern. One writer traces them all back to a single victory:
Picking up serpents, and taking no harm from any deadly drink, would fence life round against the sly attack of the destroyer. The miraculous healings showed power over the working of death in others. All of it together testified to the Lord's victory over Satan, over death, and over sin. Sin was what gave power to both death and Satan. Nothing that had not gone to the bottom of the question of sin could touch these.
The promise was not left as theory. Watching islanders once drew the wrong conclusion twice over:
Paul laid a bundle of sticks on the fire, and a viper, roused and angered by the heat, fastened on his hand. God arranged it to verify the promise of the Lord Jesus (Mark 16:18), and as a sign to the kind islanders. It was all the more a sign because at first they misread it and left God out, as unbelief so often does. When they saw the poisonous creature hanging from his hand, they were certain he must be a murderer who had escaped the sea only to meet just punishment. But he shook the snake off into the fire and suffered no harm. They watched long and in vain for violent swelling or sudden death. Then everything changed, and they called him a god.
The last sign in the verse is the gentlest. One writer sees in these signs a preview of the coming age:
The signs of Christianity are marked by kindness. They are samples of the power that in the coming age will banish the evil one and drive away the terrible effects of sin. Then mankind as a whole, and Israel above all, will sing, "Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits, who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases" (Psalm 103:2-3). That day has not yet dawned on Israel and the nations. But meanwhile, to launch the good news and in honour of Him whom men crucified and God has now exalted in heaven, there was a display of the powers of the coming age wherever it seemed fitting. It showed not only power over a defeated enemy, but pity for his poor victim, suffering man.
The promise sets no time limit, and it never says the word "all." That silence carries weight:
The Lord tells His disciples that signs should follow those who believe... Notice that He does not say these signs would follow all who believe, or that they would continue for all time. The sign-gifts of 1 Corinthians 12:29-30 are not the same as the nourishing gifts of Ephesians 4:11. The sign-gifts came to the early church as a public testimony, to catch the attention of an unbelieving world. The church has broken down entirely in its responsibility. So the Lord no longer calls attention to a ruined church by outward and miraculous signs. But though the church has lost her outward ornaments, the Lord does not stop loving and feeding His body, and the gifts of Ephesians go on to the end.
People who claim these signs today pick and choose. One writer notes which parts they leave out:
It is telling that they stress the parts that suit them. They stress the speaking with tongues and the divine healing. They say little about casting out demons, and even less about picking up serpents and drinking poison. Even the most eager among them is not keen to put these last two to the test.
- Victory — every sign traces back to one triumph. Christ went to the bottom of the question of sin, so death and Satan lost their grip.
- Serpent — the snake stands for Satan's power in the world. In the hand of Christ's servant it did no harm.
- Shield — poison and venom could not cut the messenger's life short. God fenced him round until he had carried the message.
- Kindness — the signs never destroy. They heal, and give a taste of the age when God will sweep sin's effects away.
- Silence — Christ promised the signs would follow, but He named no time limit and did not say all believers. That silence warns us against demanding them, and against daring God to prove them.
The Lord therefore, after he had spoken to them, was taken up into heaven, and sat at the right hand of God.
Mark ends its account of the perfect Servant in two short lines. He speaks to His disciples, is taken up, and sits down. Three questions follow. Who received Him? What does the seat mean? And has a seated Christ stopped working?
The verse does not say He rose to heaven. It says He was received there. Someone else acted.
On earth He had been cast out, but He is received up into heaven. His works on earth had been refused, but now He takes His seat in a place of rule and power that nothing can resist. But the wording is that He was "received up," and so the stress falls here: both His welcome and His seat are due to an act of God. The perfect Servant may have been refused here, but by the act of God He takes the place of power, where nothing will stop His hand from carrying out what pleases the Lord.
Mark has traced a life of unbroken service; the welcome at the end matches it.
This high place had been kept for the devoted Servant of God, who served Him so faithfully on earth — right up to death, and even the death of the cross. Elijah had been faithful in his own measure in serving Jehovah, and God took him to heaven in a whirlwind (2 Kings 2:1, 11). This pictured in advance the taking up of the Lord Jesus to heaven. But there is no word of the reception given to Elijah — how blessed was the reception given to the Son of God! Nothing but the greatest place in heaven was suitable for Him, so He sat down at the right hand of God.
Through most of this Gospel Mark writes simply "Jesus." The title "Lord" comes late, and the timing matters.
To me the absence of such a title earlier is a beauty in Mark, not a blemish. His work was to show the service of Jesus. But God has now vindicated His rejected Servant by the resurrection, and has made Him both "Lord" and Christ. Until now this Gospel had traced Him as the Servant, the Son of God. What could be more natural, or even necessary, than that it should now make Him known as "the Lord"?
The seat is not only honour. It rests on a sacrifice already made, and He took it once for all.
His ascension goes together with His sitting at the right hand of God. This was a thing done once. It did not need to be repeated, and Hebrews always speaks of it that way: "We have such a High Priest, who is seated at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens"; "by His own blood He entered once into the holy place"; "but this Man, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins, sat down forever" — or "has taken His seat in perpetuity" — "at the right hand of God."
The seat also has a future in view.
His sitting down proves that He has nothing more to do in that way for His friends. He now only waits "until His enemies are made His footstool."
The next verse refuses to leave Him idle, and that is exactly what makes this ending fit Mark.
The Servant who had stooped so low is lifted so high. There at the right hand of God He has taken His place — the Man in Glory. The work is finished. But the word "work" appears once more in this Gospel: "And they went out and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the message by accompanying signs." No other Gospel says that the risen One works with His servants. How fitting that the Holy Spirit placed it at the close of the Gospel of the Servant. He came from God to take the Servant's place. He served on earth. He sacrificed Himself for our sins. And now, as His servants go out to serve in His name, He still works with them.
Some have doubted that this ending is genuine. One answer looks at how well it fits the rest of Mark.
You might have thought there was rest in heaven now that Christ's work on earth was done, and done so perfectly... But not so. Mark's Gospel shows us Jesus as the workman of God, so even in the rest of glory He is the workman still... Would a forger have kept up the bold thought of "the Lord working with them," while every other word suggests that He was then at rest?
Each Gospel ends on a different note.
Matthew's Gospel closes with Christ remaining on earth, Mark's with His reigning in heaven, Luke's with His retiring from earth, and John's with His returning to earth.
- Refused — on earth the Servant was cast out. The welcome and the seat are God's own act, not a prize the world gave.
- Received — the welcome matched the service. Nothing less than the highest place in heaven suited Him.
- Renamed — the title "Lord" appears here because God had raised His rejected Servant and vindicated Him.
- Rested — He sat down. The sitting proves the one sacrifice is finished and needs no repeat. He now waits until His enemies are made His footstool.
- Resumed — the seat did not end His service: His people went out preaching, and He worked with them from there.
And they, going forth, preached everywhere, the Lord working with [them], and confirming the word by the signs following upon [it].
Mark's Gospel ends with two movements at once. The disciples go out across the world; the Lord works with them from heaven. What does that working mean, and what were the signs for?
The previous verse puts Christ at God's right hand; this one shows He has not stopped serving. Sitting down marks finished work, not retirement.
The work was done: He sat down. His great earthly work was over. He was the great Servant who could say, "I have finished the work which You gave Me to do." So He sat down at the right hand of God, the place of power. "And they went out and preached everywhere." Is the Lord, then, inactive? No — the Lord "worked with them." From the first verse of Mark to the last, Jesus is the One who does all things well. He worked for men in His life — or rather, for sinners. He suffered for sins in death. Even now He works with His servants, after He has gone up to heaven.
Mark has traced a servant's path all through. At the end the title "Lord" appears. The man who records it had once failed as a servant himself.
God had vindicated His rejected Servant by the resurrection. He had made Him both "Lord" and Christ. What could be more natural, or even necessary, than that the same Gospel which had so far traced Him as the Servant, Son of God, should now make Him known as "the Lord"? ... Now it was Mark's place, and only Mark's, to add that, while they went forth and preached everywhere, the Lord was working with them. Jesus, even as Lord, is — if I may say so — servant still. Glorious truth! And whose hand was so suited to record it as his? He proved by sad experience how hard it is to be a faithful servant. He also proved that the grace of the Lord is enough to restore and strengthen the feeblest.
The preachers went; the results did not come from them.
His disciples did go out, preaching without boundaries or limits. But the power that gave force to their words and labours was His, and not theirs. From His high seat above He worked with them, and gave the signs He had promised... He gave these signs to confirm the word, and the word needed that confirmation most at the very start of its preaching.
The signs were not the message. They came after it, and they cut two ways.
The apostles go out to preach in the world. The Lord works with them, confirming the word with the signs that went along with it. Salvation depended on faith and the confession of Christ. Once the word was planted, the Lord bore witness to His truth by powerful signs. This made faith easier, and left unbelievers without excuse.
"Everywhere" is measured by the world as people knew it then.
The witness was universal within the world as people knew it then... Yet it was stated as a fact even then, because Christ's servants had gone out and preached everywhere in all the world as then known. So Mark 16:20 testifies.
Christ set no time span on the signs.
The Lord in this case does not say how long these signs were to last... but as for the signs of Mark 16, with wonderful wisdom He leaves out all mention of a period. All He said was that these signs were to follow; and so they did. He did not promise they were to be for five, or fifty, for a hundred, or five hundred years.
Commentators differ on what continues today. One answer is that the working never stopped — only its form changed:
The signs of verses 17 and 18 are rarely seen today. But signs do still follow the preaching — signs in the moral and spiritual realm: characters and lives wholly transformed. The perfect Servant at the right hand of God is working still.
The verse is not only history. It holds a promise for anyone the Lord sends out.
"And they went out and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them." Where do you and I preach? There is a great lesson in this, and we may take great encouragement. If the Lord tells you to go out with His Word, follow His guidance and leading simply. Then you will find Him working with you as He did with them then.
- Seated, still serving. The finished work let Him sit down; it did not make Him inactive. Mark opens with the Servant and closes with Him working still.
- Working with. The disciples did the going and the speaking. The power behind their words came from Him, at God's right hand.
- Confirming. The signs came after the word, not instead of it. They made faith easier and left unbelief without excuse.
- Everywhere. The preaching covered the world as people then knew it. The commission was a fact, not a wish.
- Following. Christ set no time limit on the signs, and commentators differ over what continues. One thing is sure: the Servant at God's right hand still works with those He sends.