Pay attention to the endings

the way books in the Bible end is often where we should begin

At the risk of scaring you away right out of the gate, I’m going to reference Leviticus & Numbers. But just barely. And I think you’ll find it worthwhile in the context of my entire article. So, if you haven’t yet clicked away, read on….

Some books in the Bible come to a natural ending. For example, both Leviticus & Numbers bring things to a logical conclusion. Leviticus: “These are the commandments the Lord gave to Moses for the people of Israel at Mount Sinai” (27.34, all quotes from NRSV). And Numbers: “These are the commandments and the ordinances that the Lord commanded through Moses to the Israelites in the plains of Moab by the Jordan at Jericho” (36.13). At significant checkpoints along their journey, these two books summarize what the people have received, and where they are.

But even with the nice summary ending, the reader knows: It doesn’t end here. The odyssey continues. The story must move forward. But it’s not just an appeal to the people in the text to continue walking; it’s also an invitation to us. We, the reader, are also invited along for the journey; to find ourselves in the story.

This is what we find in the Old Testament, and it’s also true in the New. And so, in the first NT book, Jesus closes by giving the disciples (and us!) what we call the Great Commission: As you go, make disciples… And the closing words of Matthew are then a promise: “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Mt 28.20). That is clearly a reminder that we don’t sit on a pew with that promise, but we move forward with it.

How about the book of Acts? It ends with Paul under house arrest in Rome for two years, but welcoming all who come, “proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance” (Acts 28.31). Luke, the author, makes it clear that while Paul is hindered in his movement and his freedom, the gospel is not. And when you pair the ending with Matthew’s, it’s clear: Our job is the share the good news of Jesus. It’s already unhindered and unlimited, no matter our personal situation. Therefore, whatever limitations we have or freedoms we enjoy, the gospel itself is unbound; we simply need to give it voice and put it into action.

The way these books of the Bible end: this is where we begin.

I was reminded of all of this while listening to a podcast recently where a biblical scholar was being interviewed, and she offhandedly commented on the open-ended nature of how a NT & OT book conclude: the Gospel of Mark, and the book of Jonah. Both books end curiously - which means we should definitely pay attention to what their unique endings might be teaching us.

You likely know the story of Jonah. Called to go preach to the Ninevites, Jonah responds by going … in the opposite direction. And with good reason. Nineveh was a stand-in for the brutal Assyrian empire. Assyria was no friend to the Jewish people - or any people, for that matter.

The three chapters of the book of Nahum are entirely about the city of Nineveh and the Assyrian empire. In 3.1, Nahum describes Nineveh as a “city of bloodshed.” And since we are considering the closings of scriptural writings, take a look at how Nahum concludes in 3.19:

There is no assuaging your hurt,
your wound is mortal.
All who hear the news about you
clap their hands over you.
For who has ever escaped
your endless cruelty?

Nahum ends with Assyria finally getting what it deserves; and rightly so, Nahum notes. For who has ever escaped Nineveh’s endless cruelty?

Jonah was right to run. And when he reluctantly preaches to this City of Endless Cruelty, it’s completely understandable for him to lament its dramatic conversion. Assyria was the Hamas of its day, and Jonah’s people had no iron dome system to protect them.

And while it might seem the message of Jonah is very different from that of Nahum, it isn’t. Jonah’s mandate from God is to “go at once to Nineveh, that great city, and cry out against it; for their wickedness has come up before me” (Jonah 3.1). God is not condemning the violence and brutality of Assyria in Nahum, and overlooking it in Jonah. In both, he is calling it to account.

But in the book of Jonah we see clearly the possibility, even the hope, of true repentance, and true forgiveness. Jonah the prophet is all about judgment. But mercy? Well, Jonah the Israelite is less than excited. But in the last verse of the book (4.11), God makes it clear where He stands:

And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also many animals?”

Clearly, Jonah is a dramatic invitation to the people of Israel (and again, us!) to consider God’s unfathomable mercy for the “worst of these.” And if that is true of “the city of blood,” what cities would it cover today?

The final “ending” I want to consider is likely the most debated: the Gospel of Mark. If you look in your Bible, you’ll notice that after Mark 16.8, there is a “shorter ending” for Mark, and a “longer ending.”

There is certainly debate about where Mark ends, but it’s pretty clear to me that the words after verse 8 were added by someone other than Mark. Textual, grammatical, and historical evidence point in that direction.

In fact, it’s one of a handful of places in the NT where footnotes alert us to the reality that the internal & external evidence point to these words not being in the earliest manuscripts we have. (See, for example, Luke 9.56, John 7.53-8.11, Acts 8.37, and the end of the Lord’s Prayer in Matthew 6.13.)

None of this should shake our faith in scripture, or the God behind it; but they are a reminder that the Bible didn’t fall out of heaven. Faithful scholars do hard work to give us the best versions of what the writers produced, and sometimes (as with any ancient texts), there are questions. But we have thousands of NT manuscripts, and scholars carefully study them. The result is that we have very strong certainty about what the original authors wrote. And even when it looks as if some words or a verse were not in the original, it can be instructive and helpful. (Again, see the ending of the Lord’s Prayer in Matthew. Even if Jesus didn’t literally teach his disciples to pray, “For yours is the kingdom, the power, and the glory,” those words are true - and are a very appropriate way to pray.)

And where there are areas of uncertainty, they don’t introduce a new doctrine or repudiate an established one. We as believers can be both thoughtful and wise about our Bibles, while also submitting to the words (and Word) they give us, which are “inspired by God and (are) useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3.16-17).

And so, when we look at the ending of Mark, what a person does with Mark 16.9-20 is not ultimately a conservative vs. liberal issue, but simply using what scholars have learned about Mark, and asking: Where did Mark most likely end his gospel? And why?

My answer is verse 8. Not just for textual or historical reasons, but also for the reason I have been writing about in this post: The way a writer ends his Bible book is intentional. And I believe that Mark intended to end with verse 8, using it as an invitation.

But what could Mark possibly be inviting us to by ending his gospel with these words?

So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

Would the culmination of Mark’s gospel really be women running from the tomb in fear, not joy? Would they really leave and say nothing?

Well, put yourself in their sandals. Having gone to the tomb to prepare Jesus’ body for burial & decay, would you really instantly believe that God had reversed the process? The angelic figure who tells them of Jesus’ resurrection is described by Mark as a young man. Are you really going to stake your life and future on impossible news from someone who looks to be just out of high school?

We are so used to, so comfortable, with the reality of the resurrection that it’s helpful to remember how earth-shattering, world-changing, and unexpected it was. Which I believe is exactly Mark’s point. The whole goal of his gospel is to get the reader to the tomb, and make a decision: Ok, so it’s empty, and a mysterious figure says Jesus is alive. Now whatcha gonna do?

In Mark’s gospel, Jesus repeatedly tells people to keep quiet about his identity. See Mark 1.34, 43-44, as two examples. One of the reason Jesus keeps his identity under wraps, I believe, is because he is keeping their unrealistic expectations at bay - but also because he will not be fully known until he reaches the cross (where no Messiah would be caught dead, so to speak), and then comes out of the empty tomb (talk about a plot twist). I think Mark is building his gospel to a crescendo, when he gets the women to the empty tomb - and stops there. In doing so, he also brings his reader to the same place - so that, as the women leave with a decision to make, so do we. What are we going to do with a crucified and resurrected Messiah?

Mark 16 doesn’t need a verse 9, or beyond, because Mark knows his readers know what happened. By the very fact they are reading his gospel - they either believe, or are curious, about this Jesus that people are still talking about 30 years after his death. It is clear the women leave the tomb and their fear does not win the day, for the Church begins, grows, and reaches the readers of Mark (in the decades & centuries after Jesus, right down to today, where you and I pick up Mark’s gospel 2000 years after the fact).

Jesus clearly is alive. Mark believes that and presents that. But I believe he ends his gospel not by attempting to “prove” that truth, so much as to invite the reader down the centuries to ask: What does the resurrection of Jesus mean for life, for faith, for me?

So, you’re free to pick which of the three endings of Mark you prefer; I’ll go with the shortest. Not because it’s the easiest, but because it’s the most invitational – reminding me that Jesus has already gone ahead of us into this broken and messy world. And there’s no mess too messy for him, no brokenness too broken for him, and no fear or worry that I have that he hasn’t already addressed. Jesus, our Resurrected Lord, is out there, every where, inviting me and you to join him with the good news of his life, his death, and his resurrection.

So, turns out it’s you standing at the empty tomb - with all of your fears, needs, doubts, & hopes. What is the invitation Mark is offering to you? And what will you do about it?