Women As “Model Readers” In Mark’s Gospel

By Nicoletta Gatti

[Nicoletta Gatti is senior lecturer in the Department for the Study of Religions, University of Ghana, Legon, Ghana.]

Abstract

The Gospel according to Mark seems to give special attention to women. Female characters are present in key narrative moments, and they are described in positive terms in contrast to the negative portrayal of the Twelve. Employing Eco’s category of “model reader,” this article explores the literary function of female characters in the second Gospel through the narrative analysis of six portraits of women, who from the beginning (1:29–31) to the end of the Gospel (16:8) walk by the side of the readers, guiding them in a journey of revelation for transformation.

Introduction

Since the publication of Mark as Story by Rhoads and Michie in 1982, much attention has been given to the “little people,” minor characters who “consistently exemplify the value and rule of God,” in contrast to the opponents of Jesus and to his male disciples.[1]

Among the “little people,” women seem to receive special attention from the evangelist Mark. The first miracle of Jesus has a woman as protagonist (1:29–31); two women are praised for their faith (cf. 5:34; 7:29); an anonymous widow is indicated to the disciples as an example of radical self-giving (12:41); and the prophetic gesture of one of them will be told wherever the gospel is announced (cf. 14:9). Women are present in the key moments of Jesus’s life as witnesses of his death (15:40–41), burial (15:47), and resurrection (16:1–8). For some scholars, women represent a positive paradigm of discipleship, in contrast to Mark’s portrayal of the Twelve, which underlines their lack of faith (4:40; 9:19), inability to understand and hardness of heart (8:17–21), betrayal (14:18, 30), and final abandonment (14:50).[2]

The positive portrayal of women in Mark has attracted the attention of many scholars, as the numerous monographs[3] and articles[4] on the topic testify. However, the consistent presence of female characters in key narrative moments suggests a “beyond,” a surplus of meaning: they appear, in fact, at the beginning of the narrative (1:29–31) and they are the last human characters present in the Gospel (16:1–8). Their hasty departure leaves the reader alone, face-to-face with “a young man in a white robe” (v. 5) proclaiming a powerful message of resurrection and new beginning.[5]

Against this background, this article asks whether it is possible to discover a didactic journey, a journey of revelation for conversion, offered to readers through the female characters present in the narrative of the second Gospel.[6] In other words, is it possible that the female characters embody the literary strategy defined by Eco as “model reader”? Can they represent the ideal reader in whom the intention of the text reaches its realization, the “model” whom every generation of readers-disciples needs to decode and with whom they need to identify?[7] According to Eco, understanding a text means decoding the narrative strategy—the processes, the techniques, the signals, the procedures—that the author employed to construct his ideal reader. Allusions and ellipses certainly respond to stylistic rules and aesthetic beauty, but they respond above all to the relationship that the author wants to create with his “model reader.” Every work envisages (and constructs) its ideal reader, but this idea is especially relevant for the Bible, because the human’s response constitutes an element of the saving experience.

Looking for an answer, the article undertakes a journey led by some of Mark’s women: Simon’s mother-in-law (1:29–31), the woman suffering from a hemorrhage (5:24–34), the Syrophoenician (7:24–30), the poor widow (12:41–44), the woman from Bethany (14:3–9), and the women present at the crucifixion and burial of Jesus (15:40–41, 47).[8] The narrative journey starts from the end, from the moment in which the identity of Jesus as Messiah and Son of God (1:1) is finally revealed (15:39).

Mary Magdalene And The Others (15:40–41)

The cross represents the narrative climax of the Gospel, the moment when the full identity of Jesus, Messiah and Son of God (1:1), is revealed in a disfigured body, dying utterly alone (14:50; 15:34). In contrast to the “great signs” of Matthew (27:51–54), Mark directs attention to three things: the tearing of the veil of the temple (15:38), the words of a Roman centurion (15:39), and the presence of a group of women “watching from a distance” (15:40).[9]

Three are singled out—Mary of Magdala, Mary the mother of James the younger and Joses, and Salome. Mark says of them, αἳ ὅτε ἦν ἐν τῇ Γαλιλαίᾳ ἠκολούθουν αὐτῷ καὶ διηκόνουν αὐτῷ, καὶ ἄλλαι πολλαὶ αἱ συναναβᾶσαι αὐτῷ εἰς Ἱεροσόλυμα (15:41). The author indicates to his reader:[10]

a) The presence of a significant number of women (ἄλλαι πολλαί) walking with Jesus on his way to Jerusalem;

b) The presence of three specific women who, from the beginning, from Galilee, have been with Jesus (cf. 3:14).

Some scholars highlight a parallelism with the group of the Twelve, where three disciples—Peter, James, and John—are particularly close to the master (5:37; 9:2; 15:33).[11] The correlation is reinforced by the verbs employed to define the relationship between the three women and Jesus:

a) ἠκολούθουν αὐτῷ: The verb ἀκολουθέω (“to follow”) is used to indicate the response of the first disciples (1:18) and Levi (2:14, 15) to the call of Jesus. The verb returns in 8:34 in the first of the three teachings concerning discipleship (8:34–38; 9:35–37; 10:42–45) that follow the three announcements of the passion (8:31; 9:30–32; 10:32–34): “If anyone wants to follow me [ὀπίσω μου ἀκολουθεῖν], let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me.” In 15:41, the imperfect form underlines continuity: the three women started a path of discipleship in Galilee, at the beginning of the public ministry of Jesus, and they have continued to faithfully follow him up to Calvary.[12]

b) διηκόνουν αὐτῷ: Some scholars, in light of Luke 8:1–3, have interpreted the verb as referring to domestic service.[13] In fact, Mark specifies that they served him,[14] suggesting a further meaning, for which the reader must search. The verb διακονέω is rare in Mark: in fact, it is used only four times (1:13, 31; 10:45; 15:41). It indicates: 

Service toward Jesus by angels (1:13) and women: Simon’s mother-in-law (1:31) and the three women mentioned in 15:40; 

The self-understanding of Jesus in regard to his own identity and mission: καὶ γὰρ ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ ἀνθρώπου οὐκ ἦλθεν διακονηθῆναι ἀλλὰ διακονῆσαι καὶ δοῦναι τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ λύτρον ἀντὶ πολλῶν (10:45).

The reason for the incarnation and mission of the Messiah and Son of God (1:1) is expressed by Mark with the verb διακονέω, interpreted as “to give his life.” For the sake of completeness, we can add that the noun διάκονος is used by Mark exclusively in relation to discipleship (9:35; 10:43). Being a disciple of Jesus, therefore, means becoming a servant: it is a radical service that identifies those who belong to him and distinguishes his community from any other human reality (cf. 10:42–44).[15]

Moreover, following Jesus, serving him, and ascending with him to Jerusalem are the key elements of discipleship in the theology of the second Gospel (cf. 8:34; 9:52). Therefore, on Calvary, as Gnilka rightly points out, “The presence of the women becomes the necessary integration of the Centurion’s profession of faith.”[16] To the right profession of faith (orthodoxy) a daily choice must be added (orthopraxy) that includes the service of love and acceptance of the cross.

The women witnesses to the death and burial of Jesus seem to offer to the reader a model of discipleship incarnated in everyday life. To explore it, we resume our journey from the beginning, reading the narrative of the first miracle of Jesus, which has a woman as a protagonist.

Simon’s Mother-In-Law (1:29–31)

A synoptic comparison of the healing narrative discloses the theological focus of the three evangelists. Matthew describes the healing as an intimate contact with a powerful Lord (8:14–15), the Messiah sent to heal “all who were sick,” and to fulfill “what was spoken by Isaiah the prophet . . . : ‘He took our weaknesses and carried our diseases’ ” (v. 17); Luke describes an exorcism by the Savior, who rebukes the “strong fever” to leave its prey (4:38–39). Mark seems to offer a more ecclesiological reading, emphasizing the role of the new community, constituted by Jesus, to follow him on the way of the cross.

The evangelist, in fact, located the miracle after the call of the first four disciples (1:16–20); with them Jesus leaves the synagogue, where he has just conducted an exorcism, and enters the house of Simon. However, even in this house evil manifests itself: Simon’s mother-in-law lies in bed feverish (1:29).

The change started when someone presented the woman’s situation to Jesus: εὐθὺς λέγουσιν αὐτῷ περὶ αὐτῆς (v. 30). The narrator does not specify the identity of the speakers; the plural λέγουσιν allows the reader to hypothesize different faces: the four disciples, some relatives, or perhaps neighbors. The indeterminacy helps the reader understand the meaning of the gesture: there is someone who spoke about her, who built a bridge between the need of the person and the salvific power of Jesus. The verb λέγω has a generic meaning, “say/speak”; it does not indicate pleading/praying as does ἐρωτάω used in Luke 4:38. Some exegetes assume that respect for the Sabbath restrained those present from asking explicitly for the intervention of Jesus.[17]

But Jesus acts (cf. Mark 2:28) as the verbal chain demonstrates: καὶ προσελθὼν ἤγειρεν αὐτὴν κρατήσας τῆς χειρός (1:31). The last action, “grasping the hand,” assumes a particular significance if it is read with the backdrop of the other two occurrences of the syntagma (5:41; 9:27). It is employed by Mark elsewhere only in reference to the action of Jesus toward a dead girl, for whom the funeral rite had already started (5:38) and a child considered dead by those present (9:26).[18] Some scholars have also interpreted the healing of Simon’s mother-in-law as a resurrection—a narrative anticipation of what will happen to Jesus himself[19]—or as reference to baptism, accentuating the symbolic value of the miracle.[20] Without entering into the debate, it is important to emphasize the nuance of restoration to life, to a full life, that is indicated by Mark with the verb διακονέω.[21]

Reading the miracle’s account with this hermeneutic key, the reader realizes that Jesus takes the initiative, as he did for the calling of the first disciples (1:16, 18). The woman experiences a situation of immobility, of closeness with death from which no one can set her free; only Jesus can restore her to life. It is a new life, received as a gift, and defined by the category of διακονία, which, as we have analyzed, seals her full membership in the new community, gathered by the Christ to follow him on his way to Jerusalem.

The personal pronoun αὐτοῖς clarifies that the service of the woman is not only toward the person of Jesus but also toward the community gathered in the house of Simon and beyond.[22] Her healing elicits, in fact, a movement of people in need of salvation, sick and oppressed, toward the house: “and Jesus healed many who had various diseases. He also drove out many demons” (v. 34).

The Woman With Hemorrhage (5:24–34)

With a narrative technique typical of Mark,[23] the healing of the second woman is inserted in the narrative of the restoration to life of the twelve-year-old daughter of Jairus (5:21–24, 35–43).[24] A ruler of the synagogue approached Jesus; his attitude and his words testify that he recognized the power of the rabbi and believed that he could heal his daughter. The detail of the crowd that “followed him and thronged about him” on the way to Jairus’s house (5:24) anticipates the gesture of the anonymous woman, one in the multitude. The detailed description of the narrator elicits the emphathy of the reader: “Now a woman was there who had been suffering from a hemorrhage for twelve years. She had endured a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all that she had. Yet instead of getting better, she grew worse” (vv. 25–26).

The sickness probably made her incapable of generating life. Furthermore, according to the Torah, contact with a woman affected by “blood flow” makes a person unclean (cf. Lev 15:25), to the point that bleeding is used in the prophetic literature as an image of sin (cf. Ezek 36:17).[25] By this Mark informs the reader that the woman is excluded from religious and social life, considered impure and cursed by God because she is unable to conceive.[26]

In contrast to Simon’s mother-in-law, the woman takes the initiative. However, aware of her status, she decides to touch Jesus secretly (5:27–28). The woman believes that a healing power dwells in Jesus, and she has no doubt that it can operate also in her (cf. 3:10; 6:56). Using one of his favorite words, εὐθύς, Mark informs the reader that the healing happened “immediately” (εὐθὺς): “And immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her suffering.” The term μάστιξ, translated by the different versions as “disease,” “evil,” “suffering,” or “affliction,” also sometimes means “scourge, plague” (Acts 22:24; Heb 11:36), a term that in its severity summarizes all the suffering—psycho-physical, socioeconomic, ethnic-religious—that she had endured.

Jesus perceived that “power had gone out from him” and searched the crowd to see “who had done this” (5:32). The disciples, and the reader with them, do not understand his insistence. It is important to notice that if the first question is open (τίς μου ἥψατο τῶν ἱματίων; [v. 30]), the narrator’s comment and the feminine article (καὶ περιεβλέπετο ἰδεῖν τὴν τοῦτο ποιήσασαν [v. 32]) signal to the reader that Jesus knows “who”: his eyes search for a specific face. When his gaze meets the woman, it pushes her to come out of anonymity to testify, “fearful and trembling,” what had happened in her.

Why does Jesus act in this way? The text suggests a double motivation:

a) To complete the journey of liberation that has already started in her;

b) To transform a personal experience into an educational moment for the disciples.[27]

The transition from a hidden touch to “come before—prostrate—telling the whole truth” marks steps toward the acquisition of a new identity: from marginalization to rediscovery of her original dignity as a “daughter” of the heavenly Father; from shame over a stolen healing to revelation of her unconditional faith, a faith that raised her from a social and religious death to life, in anticipation of what is going to happen physically to the daughter of Jairus (5:42).[28] At the same time, as it happens with other miracles narrated by Mark (cf. 2:5; 3:4–5), the outcast woman is introduced in the narrative to encourage the Twelve, still uncertain and doubtful (4:10, 41), to believe in their rabbi and to follow him “on the way” with the same trust.

The Syrophoenician Mother (7:24–30)

After a lengthy discussion of purity and impurity (7:1–23), Jesus departs to “the regions of Tyre and Sidon,” in a pagan territory. The verb ἀπέρχομαι (v. 24) prompts readers to ask, Why does the Christ, sent to gather the chosen nation, take refuge in a “foreign house” in the land of the historical enemies of Israel? Perhaps he wants to continue the formation of his disciples far from the crowd and the Jewish leaders. However, he is found by a Greek woman, of Syrophoenician origin, who throws herself at his feet, begging him to free her daughter from a demon (v. 26).[29]

The reaction of Jesus is unusual, out of character: ἄφες πρῶτον χορτασθῆναι τὰ τέκνα, οὐ γάρ ἐστιν καλὸν λαβεῖν τὸν ἄρτον τῶν τέκνων καὶ τοῖς κυναρίοις βαλεῖν (7:27).[30] Even if the use of a diminutive in some way sweetens the term “dog,” the reader is likely puzzled by hearing an offensive term uttered by Jesus and must conjecture about its purpose. Does he want to state unequivocally the priority of Israel in his mission?[31] Is he repeating a common Jewish saying?[32] Or, perhaps, is he challenging the woman because he recognizes her faith and intelligence?[33]

The mother apparently accepts the perspective of exclusion. She recognizes that she has no right, but with a witty remark that reveals a great intuition of faith declares her availability to receive just the “crumbs” of bread destined for the children: κύριε·καὶ τὰ κυνάρια ὑποκάτω τῆς τραπέζης ἐσθίουσιν ἀπὸ τῶν ψιχίων τῶν παιδίων (v. 28). In a paradoxical way, the woman seems to understand better than Jesus himself the potentialities and the purpose of the kingdom he is announcing, and for that reason she challenges him to overcome prejudices and mental and cultural boundaries.[34] She perceives, in fact, that at the banquet of the kingdom the bread is superabundant. Readers can embrace her argument by recalling the outcome of the multiplication of bread: “They collected twelve basketfuls of scraps of bread and pieces of fish. Those who had eaten the loaves numbered five thousand men” (6:43–44).[35] The word κύριος, a title used in direct address (κύριε) only in this context in the Gospel of Mark, reveals the source of her certainty:[36] she not only “listens” (4:3, 9, 12, 23; 7:14) but understands Jesus (7:16; 8:17, 21) to an extent that his disciples have yet to reach. That is why she does not hesitate to obey Jesus’s words: she returns home, where she finds her daughter healed, free from the evil power that used to torment her.

It is important to note how Jesus describes the agency of the healing: διὰ τοῦτον τὸν λόγον (v. 29). The perceptive, insistent, and courageous faith of the Syrophoenician is recognized by Jesus as “an authentic reflection of the word of which he is bearer.”[37] It is a word that opens new horizons, that challenges the hearer to understand that the time has come even for outsiders to enter the banquet hall and to share the table with the children.[38] For this reason, Jesus praises the “word” of the woman: it is her word, witness to the presence of the kingdom, that heals her daughter, snatching her from the jaws of evil, from the power of darkness (v. 30).

The same word brings Jesus to overcome new borders[39]—“And again he left the district of Tyre and went by way of Sidon to the Sea of Galilee, into the district of the Decapolis (v. 31)—so that every ear can hear and every mouth proclaim the liberating coming of the one who “has done everything well. He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak” (7:37).

The Widow (12:41–44) And The Woman Of Bethany (14:3–9)

The meetings with the last two women occur in a particular narrative context on the threshold of Jesus’s Passover. With the first scene, located in the temple, Mark concludes the public teachings of Jesus and introduces the eschatological discourse directed exclusively at his disciples (13:1–37). The second episode links this section with the passion narrative.

The widow’s account is peculiar. The woman neither searches for nor meets Jesus; she does not interact with him and she is not aware of being observed and made the focus of Jesus’s teaching to his disciples. The scene opens with Jesus sitting in the temple to observe (ἐθεώρει, 12:41). The imperfect indicative suggests a careful and protracted observation, something more intense and purposive than just “seeing”—a penetrating glance aware of the condition and situation of the person. The direct object of the gaze of Jesus is the behavior of the crowd that throws money into the treasury of the temple. The narrator does not comment on the donors’ intent—whether love, faith, habit, obligation, ostentation—but on the “many” rich people and the “many” coins tossed in the treasury.

From the crowd the reader’s attention is focused on the arrival of the woman, described as a poor widow, and the “insignificant” value of her offering: λεπτὰ δύο, ὅ ἐστιν κοδράντης (12:42). Jesus gathers the disciples and using a solemn expression—ἀμὴν λέγω ὑμῖν (v. 43)—reveals the true value of her contribution: “This poor widow has put more in than all who have contributed to the treasury; for they have all put in money they could spare, but she in her poverty has put in everything she possessed, all she had to live on” (vv. 43–44). The literal translation of πάντες γὰρ ἐκ τοῦ περισσεύοντος αὐτοῖς . . . ἔβαλεν ὅλον τὸν βίον αὐτῆς reminds the readers of other teachings of Jesus: “He called the people and his disciples to him and said, ‘If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me. Anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it’ ” (8:34–35); or even the commandment to love God “with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength” (12:30).[40]

In the radicality of the gift of the widow the reader sees a concretization of the teaching of the Christ: to follow means to give one’s life. It means an unconditional adherence not to a religious theory, but to a person: Jesus. The eschatological discourse that follows will deepen this change of perspective. Even though the temple, the historical place of the revelation of God, will be destroyed, the proclamation of his salvific presence in human history will be testified to all nations through the self-giving of the disciples (13:10). In spite of persecution, rejection, affective and effective poverty, they will continue to believe that the time of the fruits will come if they preserve the word of their Master in their heart, in an attitude of vigilance and faith (13:11–13, 33–37). The collocation of the pericope on the threshold of the passion narrative further emphasizes its proleptic value: the gift of the woman opens the reader’s eyes toward the future, toward the total gift of Jesus, when in rejection and solitude he will offer his life on the cross.

This interpretation is strengthened by the narrative of anointing at Bethany that closes the eschatological discourse and opens the passion narrative. The death of Jesus anticipated by the donation of the widow is proclaimed by the anonymous woman of Bethany with her anointing. Unlike the widow, the woman in chapter 14 offers a precious gift of pure nard kept in an alabaster jar (v. 3). Breaking the jar and pouring the ointment, she declares that she does not want to hold anything for herself. The gesture provokes the disdain of those present, for the inconceivable “waste” of more than 300 denarii, the annual income of a worker.[41] For the second time, Jesus intervenes to move the attention of his disciples from appearance to reality: “What she has done for me is a good action. You have the poor with you always, and you can do well to them whenever you wish, but you will not always have me. She has done what she could: she has anointed my body beforehand for its burial” (vv. 6–8). The syntagm καλὸν ἔργον (v. 6) refers to the Jewish description of acts of love, gestures that require personal effort and have the character of grace, such as feeding the poor, offering hospitality, freeing prisoners, visiting the sick, and, relevant for our context, burying the dead.

Finally, regarding the ambiguous words πάντοτε γὰρ τοὺς πτωχοὺς ἔχετε μεθ᾽ ἑαυτῶν . . . , ἐμὲ δὲ οὐ πάντοτε ἔχετε (v. 7), Pesch notes that Jesus does not oppose himself to the poor but identifies with them. On the eve of his passion Jesus is the poor, and the woman’s act of love is welcomed and praised by him.[42]

The anointing takes on a particular significance in its immediate context. Sandwiched between the conspiracy of the high priests and the scribes (vv. 1–2) and the readiness of one of the Twelve to hand Jesus over to them (v. 10), the woman reveals the right attitude with which disciples must participate in the passion of their Lord. For this reason, the pericope ends with an astonishing command: ἀμὴν δὲ λέγω ὑμῖν, ὅπου ἐὰν κηρυχθῇ τὸ εὐαγγέλιον εἰς ὅλον τὸν κόσμον, καὶ ὃ ἐποίησεν αὕτη λαληθήσεται εἰς μνημόσυνον αὐτῆς (v. 9).

The proclamation of the gospel will therefore include not only the gesture of Jesus offering his life and pouring out his own blood for “the many” (vv. 22–24), but also the gesture of the anonymous woman who breaks a precious vase at the feet of Jesus and pours on her Lord everything she possesses. They are two gestures that will be told everywhere because they are actually a single gesture: the willingness of God to love humanity in the Son and the possibility for humanity, expressed in the gesture of the woman, to give up everything to respond to his unconditional love.

Conclusion

The female figures presented in the Gospel of Mark are offered as models of radical faith, unconditional trust, self-giving, and discipleship without fear.[43] If we consider their placement in the narrative structure of the Gospel, we can notice an important strategy: in the chapters that precede the confession of Peter in 8:29, women are introduced as those who receive something from Jesus, whether healing or liberation from evil. In the second section of the Gospel, characterized by the journey toward the cross, women are presented as those who offer what they are and possess to him. Women, therefore, are conceived by Mark as journey companions for the readers, revealing to them something about the identity of Jesus and their own identity as disciples. In Galilee, women teach readers to believe in Christ without conditions; during the journey to the cross they inspire them to offer their lives for the same purpose for which the Son of God is going up to Jerusalem: a gift of love and salvation.

By offering his readers these travelling companions, Mark offers a sort of “identity card” of a disciple:

• A disciple is one who experiences the liberating power of Jesus (5:30; 7:30).
• A disciple is one who unconditionally adheres to the master to be sent out to announce that experience (16:7, 10).
• A disciple is one who follows Jesus in the path of the cross and seals with the disciple’s own presence the profession of faith (15:40).
• A disciple is one who educates and brings back the disheartened brethren to discipleship (16:7).
• A disciple is one who recognizes existence as a gift and radically transforms it into service molded on the life of him who “did not come to be served but to serve and give his life as ransom for many” (10:45).

After walking by the reader’s side from Galilee to the empty tomb, the women can now leave the scene. After hearing the proclamation of faith (1:1), and experiencing it “on the way,” reader-disciples are called to make their own choice: either to abandon discipleship or to accept the commission of the “young man,” to overcome fear, to wear the disciple’s robe, and to write with their lives a page of the gospel of salvation.

Notes

1. David Rhoads and Donald Michie, Mark as Story: An Introduction to the Narrative of a Gospel (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1982), 130; cf., for example, Gianattilio Boni-facio, Personaggi minori e discepoli in Marco 4–8: La funzione degli episodi dei personaggi minori nell’interazione con la storia dei protagonisti, Analecta Biblica 173 (Rome: Editrice Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 2008); Joel F. Williams, Other Followers of Jesus: Minor Characters as Major Figures in Mark’s Gospel, Journal for the Study of the New Testament Supplement 102 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1994); Joel F. Williams, “Discipleship and Minor Characters in Mark’s Gospel,” Bibliotheca Sacra 153 (1996): 332–43; Elizabeth Struthers Malbon, The Major Importance of the Minor Characters in Mark (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994); David E. Malick, “Simon’s Mother-in-Law as a Minor Character in the Gospel of Mark: A Narrative Analysis,” Priscilla Papers 31 (2017): 4–9.
2. Cf. Elizabeth Schüssler Fiorenza, In Memory of Her: A Feminist Theological Reconstruction of Christian Origins (New York: Crossroad, 1985), 320–22; Joachim Gnilka, Marco, 2nd ed., Commenti e studi biblici (Assisi: Cittadella, 1991), 752; cf. Rhoads and Michie, Mark as Story, 129–35; Winsome Munro, “Women Disciples in Mark?,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 44 (1982): 236–37.
3. For example, Monika Fander, Die Stellung der Frau im Markusevangelium: Unter besonderer Berücksichtigung kultur- und religionsgeschichtlicher Hintergründe (Altenberge: Telos, 1989); Hisako Kinukawa, Women and Jesus in Mark: A Japanese Feminist Perspective (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1994); Joan L. Mitchell, Beyond Fear and Silence: A Feminist-Literary Approach to the Gospel of Mark (London: Continuum, 2001); and Susan Miller, Women in Mark’s Gospel, Journal for the Study of the New Testament Supplement 259 (London: T&T Clark, 2004).
4. John J. Schmitt, “Women in Mark’s Gospel: An Early Christian View of Women’s Role,” Bible Today 19 (1981): 228–33; Mary Ann Beavis, “Women as Models of Faith in Mark,” Biblical Theology Bulletin 18 (1988): 3–9; Jane Kopas, “Jesus and Women in Mark’s Gospel,” Review for Religious 44 (1985): 912–20; Willard M. Swartley, “The Role of Women in Mark’s Gospel: A Narrative Analysis,” Biblical Theology Bulletin 27 (1997): 16–22.
5. The ending of Mark’s Gospel (v. 8) has generated a wide debate on the role of the women. Some scholars compare the “flight of the women from the tomb . . . to the cowardly flight of the disciples” (Williams, “Discipleship and Minor Characters in Mark’s Gospel,” 343). Cf. James A. Kelhoffer, “A Tale of Two Markan Characterizations: The Exemplary Woman Who Anointed Jesus’ Body for Burial (14:3–9) and the Silent Trio Who Fled the Empty Tomb (Mark 16:1–8),” in Women and Gender in Ancient Religions: Interdisciplinary Approaches, ed. Stephen P. Ahearne-Kroll, Paul A. Holloway, and James A. Kelhoffer, Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 263 (Tubingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010), 85–98; Elizabeth Struthers Malbon, “Fallible Followers: Women and Men in the Gospel of Mark,” Semeia 28 (1983): 29–48; Francis J. Moloney, The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2002), 349; Mary Ann Tolbert, Sowing the Gospel: Mark’s World in Literary-Historical Perspective (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989), 288–99. I share the view of Lincoln that the open ending allows readers to enter into the narrative of the Gospel and determine whether they want to live out the way of the cross, reversing the action of the women and proclaiming with their own lives the gospel of the crucified and risen Lord. Andrew T. Lincoln, “The Promise and the Failure: Mark 16:7–8, ” Journal of Biblical Literature 108 (1989): 283–300. See also Joan L. Mitchell, Beyond Fear and Silence, 66–115; Norman R. Peterson, “When Is the End Not the End? Literary Reflections on the Ending of Mark’s Narrative,” Interpretation 34 (1980): 151–66.
6. For an introduction to reading the text as a communicative event, see Massimo Grilli, L’impotenza che salva: Il mistero della croce in Mc 8, 27–10, 52 (Bologna: EDB, 2009), 12–21.
7. Umberto Eco, Lector in fabula: La cooperazione interpretativa nei testi narrativi, Tascabili Bompiani 27 (Milan: Bompiani, 2002), 53–66.
8. For an in-depth analysis of the female characters in Mark, see Miller, Women in Mark’s Gospel.
9. Jeffrey W. Aernie, “Cruciform Discipleship: The Narrative Function of the Women in Mark 15–16, ” Journal of Biblical Literature 135 (2016): 779–97.
10. Cf. Stephen P. Ahearne-Kroll, “Audience Inclusion and Exclusion as Rhetorical Technique in the Gospel of Mark,” Journal of Biblical Literature 129 (2010): 717–35; Elizabeth Struthers Malbon, “Narrative Criticism: How Does a Story Mean?,” in Mark and Method: New Approaches in Biblical Studies, ed. Janice Capel Anderson and Stephen D. Moore, 2nd ed. (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2008), 29–58.
11. Cf. Munro, “Women Disciples in Mark?,” 230.
12. Aernie, “Cruciform Discipleship,” 794: “Discipleship means following Jesus in the way of the cross. . . . These women are the only narrative figures who persist with Jesus in the course of these climatic events. Their persistent presence demonstrates their commitment to the shameful paradox of the cruciform nature of Jesus’s gospel.” Cf. M. Perroni, “Discepole di Gesù,” in Donne e Bibbia: Storia ed esegesi, ed. Adriana Valerio (Bologna: EDB, 2006), 203–15; Miller, Women in Mark’s Gospel, 184.
13. Cf. C. Leslie Mitton, The Gospel according to St Mark (London: Epworth, 1947), 133; Philip Carrington, According to Mark (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1960), 331; Howard Clark Kee, Community of the New Age: Studies in Mark’s Gospel (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1977), 91, 152. It is interesting to note the verbs used by the different English versions: “look after him” (NJB); “provided for him” (NRSV); “ministered to him” (RSV).
14. Perroni, “Discepole di Gesù,” 205.
15. Aernie, “Cruciform Discipleship,” 794.
16. Gnilka, Mark, 896.
17. See Maria Luisa Rigato, “Tradizione e redazione in Marco 1, 29–31: La guarigione della suocera di Pietro,” Rivista Biblica 17 (1969): 152.
18. Cf. Marie Sabin, “Women Transformed: The Ending of Mark Is the Beginning of Wisdom,” Cross Currents 48 (1998): 150–52.
19. Cf. Paul Lamarche, “La guérison de la belle-mère de Pierre et le genre littéraire des évangiles,” La nouvelle revue théologique 88 (1965): 519.
20. Cf. Xavier Léon-Dufour, “La guérison de la belle-mère de Simon-Pierre,” Estudios Bíblicos 24 (1965): 206–7.
21. Malick, “Simon’s Mother-in-Law as a Minor Character in the Gospel of Mark,” 4–9.
22. “In terms of Markan narrative, she is the first to act like Jesus himself ” (Sabin, Women Transformed, 151).
23. Cf. Mario DiCicco, “What Can One Give in Exchange for One’s Life? A Narrative-Critical Study of the Widow and Her Offering, Mark 12:41–44,” Currents in Theology and Mission 25 (1998): 446.
24. Cf. Miller, Women in Mark’s Gospel, 56.
25. Cf. Maria J. Selvidge, “Mark 5:25–34 and Leviticus 15:19–20: A Reaction to Restrictive Purity Regulations,” Journal of Biblical Literature 103 (1984): 619–23.
26. Cf. M. Navarro Puerto, “Tendenze attuali nell’esegesi femminista: Mc 5, ” in Donne e Bibbia: Storia ed esegesi, ed. Adriana Valerio (Bologna: EDB, 2006), 348–61.
27. Cf. Clementina Mazzucco, “Gesù e la donna sirofenicia (Mc 7, 24–30): Un dibattito con due vincitori,” in Mysterium Regni Ministerium Verbi: Scritti in onore di mons. Vittorio Fusco, ed. Ettore Franco, Supplementi alla Rivista Biblica 38 (Bologna: EDB, 2000), 428.
28. Christopher D. Marshall, Faith as Theme in Mark’s Narrative (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 106–7.
29. The peculiarity of the text has led to interpretations of the Syrophoenician as (1) an example of faith: Matthew L. Skinner, “ ‘She Departed to Her House’: Another Dimension of the Mother’s Faith in Mark 7:24–30, ” Word & World 26 (2006): 14–21; Adela Yarbro Collins, Mark: A Commentary, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), 365–68; (2) paradigmatic of those who are marginalized in society: Richard A. Horsley, Hearing the Whole Story: The Politics of Plot in Mark’s Gospel (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2001), 213–15; Gerd Theissen, The Gospels in Context: Social and Political History in the Synoptic Tradition, trans. Linda M. Maloney (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991), 68–80; Sharon H. Ringe, “A Gentile Woman’s Story, Revisited: Rereading Mark 7.24–31a, ” in A Feminist Companion to Mark, ed. Amy-Jill Levine with Marianne Blickenstaff, Feminist Companion to the New Testament and Early Christian Writings (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001), 2:79–100; (3) someone able to challenge Jesus: Jim Perkinson, “A Canaanitic Word in the Logos of Christ; or the Difference the Syro-Phoenician Woman Makes to Jesus,” Semeia 5 (1996): 68; Aruna Gnanadason, “Jesus and the Asian Woman: A Post-Colonial Look at the Syro-Phoenician Woman/Canaanite Woman from an Indian Perspective,” Studies in World Christianity 7 (2001): 162–77; Ched Myers, Binding the Strong Man: A Political Reading of Mark’s Story of Jesus (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1988); David M. Rhoads, “Jesus and the Syrophoenician Woman in Mark: A Narrative Critical Study,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 62 (1994): 343–75; Surekha Nelavala, “Smart Syrophoenician Woman: A Dalit Feminist Reading of Mark 7:24–31, ” Expository Times 118 (2006): 69.
30. Julien C. H. Smith, “The Construction of Identity in Mark 7:24–30: The Syrophoenician Woman and the Problem of Ethnicity,” Biblical Interpretation 20 (2012): 458–81.
31. See Hugh Anderson, The Gospel of Mark (London: Morgan & Scott, 1976), 191; Rudolf Pesch, Il vangelo di Marco (Brescia: Paideia, 1982), 1:606. Markan narrative shows none of the stress on the priority of Israel present in Matthew’s Gospel. Sacchi, after noting that Jesus heals people coming from Idumea, from beyond the Jordan and from Tyre and Sidon (3:8, 10), and transforms a man possessed by an evil spirit into an apostle (5:20), says, “Salvation is no longer reserved for Israel but is now available to all humanity in the person of Jesus.” Alessandro Sacchi, “ ‘Lascia prima che si sazino i figli . . .’ (Mc 7, 24–30): Gesù e i gentili nel vangelo di Marco,” in “La parola di Dio cresceva” (At 12, 24): Scritti in onore di Carlo Maria Martini nel suo 70° compleanno, ed. Rinaldo Fabris (Bologna: EDB, 1998), 146.
32. Cf. James A. Brooks, Mark, New American Commentary (Nashville: Broadman, 1991), 121; Vincent Taylor, Marco: Commento al vangelo messianico (Assisi: Cittadella, 1977), 402. This hypothesis is difficult to justify in light of the context in which the pericope is inserted. It follows a discussion of purity/impurity, in which Jesus criticizes tradition that tends to manipulate God and subordinate the person to the religious structure (7:13). His last words, “What comes out of a person defiles him. For from within, out of the human heart, come evil ideas, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, evil, deceit, debauchery, envy, slander, pride, and folly. All these evils come from within and defile a person” (7:20–23), seem to prepare the reader to listen to the words of a pagan woman as the manifestation of the purity of her believing heart.
33. See Mazzucco, “Gesù e la donna sirofenicia,” 414–19.
34. Cf. Skinner, “She Departed to Her House,” 17–18.
35. Cf. Pesch, Il vangelo di Marco, 1:391; Robert H. Gundry, Mark: A Commentary on His Apology for the Cross (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 377.
36. Cf. Lawrence D. Hart, “The Canaanite Woman: Meeting Jesus as Sage and Lord: Matthew 15:21–28 and Mark 7:24–30, ” Expository Times 122 (2010): 20–25.
37. Mazzucco, “Gesù e la donna sirofenicia,” 429.
38. Cf. Kinukawa, Women and Jesus in Mark, 51–61; Ringe, “A Gentile Woman’s Story, Revisited,” 91–92.
39. Cf. William Loader, “Challenged at the Boundaries: A Conservative Jesus in Mark’s Tradition,” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 63 (1996): 45–51.
40. DiCicco, What One Can Give, 441–49.
41. Cf. Pesch, Il vangelo di Marco, 2:494.
42. Ibid.
43. Cf. DiCicco, What Can One Give, 445.