AOSIS OpenJournalshttp://www.openjournals.netinfo@openjournals.nethttp://www.hts.org.za0259-94222072-8050In this contribution the relationship between mission, identity and ethics in Mark was investigated by means of a postcolonial and social-scientific reading, with a focus on patronage as a practice that constituted the main bond of human society in the 1st-century Mediterranean world. Mark’s narrative world is a world of three kingdoms (the kingdoms of Rome, the Temple elite and God). Each of these kingdoms has its own gospel, claims the favour of God or the gods, has its own patron, and all three have a mission with a concomitant ethics. Two of these gospels create a world of outsiders (that of Rome and the Temple), and one a world of insiders (the kingdom of God proclaimed and enacted by the Markan Jesus). According to Mark, the kingdom of God is the only kingdom where peace and justice are abundantly available to all, because its patron, Jesus, is the true Son of God, and not Caesar. Being part of this kingdom entails standing up for justice and showing compassion towards outsiders created by the ‘gospels’ of Rome and the Temple elite.
Ernest van Eck1
1Department of New Testament Studies, University of Pretoria, South Africa
Ernest van Eck
ernest.vaneck@up.ac.za
Private Bag X20, Hatfield 0028, South Africa
200369110.4102/hts.v69i1.200309 Apr. 201302 May 201319 June 2013Van Eck, E., 2013, ‘Mission, identity and ethics in Mark: Jesus, the patron for outsiders’, HTS Teologiese Studies/Theological Studies 69(1), Art. #2003, 13 pages. http://dx.doi.org/10.4102/hts.v69i1.2003
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Attribution License.Introductory remarks
This reading, focusing on mission, identity and ethics in Mark’s narrative, takes as point of departure that mission can also be understood as representation. From this perspective, being missional inter alia includes to stand up for justice or show compassion in a way God intended. Identity expressed in ethical behaviour (implicit or explicit) is thus missional in the sense that the participatio Jesu relates to being taken up in and being an agent of the larger narrative of God’s plan of recreation. Mark’s narrative typifies this recreation as the kingdom of God, a kingdom available especially to outsiders. In Mark the gospel of Jesus is the kingdom. This kingdom has a patron, and the mission of this patron is the inclusion of outsiders. Being taken up in this kingdom means new identity, an identity that must ethically be enacted through partaking in the mission of Jesus.
To give expression to this understanding of mission, identity and ethics, the narrative of Mark is approached through a postcolonial lens, heeding the call of Jameson (1981:19–20) not to follow the conventional habit of distinguishing between texts that are social and political and those that are not (e.g. religious texts like Mark). Taking up this challenge, this reading of Mark attempts to take seriously ‘the reality of empire’ as ‘an omnipresent, inescapable, and overwhelming sociopolitical reality’ (Segovia 1988:56) with its concomitant parasitic economic system (see De Ste. Croix 1980:382–383), depending on a coercive, fear-inspiring dominion achieved through military conquest and enslavement (Parenti 2003:36). By reading Mark ‘against the grain’ (see Elliott 2008:22), it will be indicated that Mark, from its very first verse, proclaims a gospel of God’s justice vis-à-vis the suppressing gospels of Rome and the Temple elite.
This postcolonial reading, finally, is supplemented by a social-scientific approach, focusing especially on patronage as a practice that constituted the main bond of human society in the 1st-century Roman (and thus Palestinian) world.
Three winds, three gospels and three kingdoms
To use the metaphor of Wright (2011:27–56), 1st-century Palestine was the place where three winds met to create the perfect storm. The first wind, blowing from the far west, was that of the superpower Rome, the new social, political, economic reality of the day with its military superiority and exploitative economic program. The second wind, blowing from the temple in Jerusalem, was the indirect rule of Rome, the power-seeking priestly elite with an understanding of the God of Israel that added to the oppression and exploitation of the ruled. The third wind, blowing from Galilee, was the message of a peasant who proclaimed that the kingdom of God has arrived, a kingdom directly opposed to that of Rome and the Temple elite. Each of these three winds had its own gospel, and all three claimed the favour of God or the gods. All three had their own patron, and all three had a mission. Two of these gospels created a world of outsiders, and one a world of insiders. What were these gospels, who were their patrons, and what kind of kingdoms did they create? In which kingdom were peace and justice to be found? Mark’s story of Jesus answers this question emphatically: only in the kingdom of God, because of the wind of God.
The gospel of the kingdom of Rome
The Greek word εὐαγγέλιον is normally translated with ‘goodnews’ or ‘gospel’ (see e.g. Rm 1:1, 16–17; Mt 4:23; Mk 1:1, 14; Lk 9:16). The earliest connotation carried by εὐαγγέλιον, however, was political (and by implication economic). This meaning of εὐαγγέλιον became prominent especially after Octavian’s victory over Mark Anthony at Actium (31 BCE), a victory that resulted in Octavian being hailed as Augustus (in Greek Sebastos, the ‘sacred one’, and in Latin the ‘anointed one’ or ‘revered one’). In Augustus’ victory a new world order appeared, and the ‘gospel of Augustus’ was born; a gospel taken over and built upon by Augustus’ successors in the Julio-Claudian house (Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius and Nero).
Augustus, who in essence came into power through the use of force, used different kinds of legitimisation to justify his ‘divine right’ to rule. He used, for example, Virgil’s Eclogues 4 in crafting an ideology of Roman destiny. Although the Eclogues celebrated the rise of Gaius Asinius Pollio (and the short-lived peace between Anthony and Octavian), he seized on the ‘realised eschatology’ of the Eclogue – an effortless paradise, crops yielding their fruits and livestock giving their milk and many-coloured wool spontaneously – to proclaim his gospel as a time of prosperity, happiness and relief from ongoing civil strife (Elliott & Reasoner 2011:109). By means of Virgil’s Aeneid (commissioned by Augustus himself), Augustus claimed that Rome was chosen by the gods, especially Jupiter, to rule an ‘empire without end’ (Virgil, Aeneid 1.278–279; see also Seneca, Duties 2.26–27). The Aeneid’s message was powerful: Rome with at its helm Augustus as pater patriae (Father of the Fatherland) have become ‘lords of the world’, not just through military power, ‘but through divine destiny earned through the virtue theyhave inherited from their pious ancestor Aeneas’ (Elliott & Reasoner 2011:120). After the assassination of Julius Caesar in 44 BCE, Augustus also seized on the so-called Julian star that appeared during games – organised by the young Octavian in honour of Julius Caesar in spite of senatorial opposition – as the apotheosis of Julius. Consequently, on 01 January 42 BCE, the Senate honoured Julius as a divine being, which meant that his adopted son, Octavian, was ‘son of god’. Augustus now was Divi Filius, second only to Jupiter (Horace, Odes 1.12.5–6), a theology that was especially popularised – as documented by numismatic evidence – by depicting Augustus (and later, e.g. Tiberius, Nero and Otho) as Divi Filius (and Pontifex Maximus) on coinage minted by the Caesars.
Augustus thus was not only pater patriae, but also – as proclaimed by Roman imperial theology – ‘son of god’, ‘saviour of the world’ and ‘lord’. Almost immediately after Augustus’ victory at Actium, the tale of Octavian’s divine conception by Apollo was recorded by Asclepias of Mendes in his Theologoumena, later to be repeated and elaborated upon – at the end of Augustus’ life – by Suetonius (The Lives of the Caesars 94.4) and Dio Cassius (Roman History 45.1–2; see Crossan 2007:105–106).
Augustus’ gospel – enshrined by the Ara Pacis Augustae on 30 January 9 BCE in celebration of the peace brought to the Roman Empire by Augustus’ military victories in Gaul and Hispania (modern France and Spain) and the Res Gestae Divi Augusti towards the end of Augustus’ life – in essence was the ‘peace of Rome’ (pax Romana; see Horace, Odes 4.15; Ovid, Fasti 1.709–722). Augustus was viewed as the divine guarantor of good things, not only to Rome, but to the world. From the Roman point of view, the whole of humanity was the beneficiary of Augustus’ generosity and care as pater patriae. Even his colonisation of peoples via military conquests was seen as benefitting the conquered – again from a Roman point of view. After all, according to Roman propaganda, Augustus’ military conquests were not the result of military force but the result of the favour of the gods that was bestowed on him because of his virtues (Elliott & Reasoner 2011:125). As can be seen from the well-known Priene-inscription (just south of Ephesus, dated 9 BCE), and its preamble written by Paulus Fabius Maximus directed at the eastern provinces of Asia-Minor, support for Augustus’ achievements was not only limited to Rome. In the inscription and its preamble Augustus is hailed as the most divine Caesar and saviour whose birth (epiphany) was the beginning of a new creation of the world that brought peace to mankind; he is:
the greatest benefactor of both past, present, and future, so that ‘the birthday of the god’ is the ultimate ‘good tidings’ for the world ... Augustus was now Lord of cosmic time as well as Lord of global place. (Crossan 2007:148)
The roots of the idea that Augustus was the embodiment of divine virtues stem from the political thought of Greece and the Roman Republic (Elliott & Reasoner 2011:124). Augustus’ most important virtues, which were given divine honours (deified), were victoria (the power to conquer barbarians and rule over enemies), securitas [security], pax [peace], concordia [social harmony], felicitas [happiness], clementia [mercy shown by the conqueror to the vanquished], fides [loyalty], iustitia [justice], salus [health], pietas [religious values and devotion], virtus [the common good] and spes (hope; see Elliott 2008:29; Elliott & Reasoner 2011:125). These virtues were part of the imperial propaganda to persuade the exploited ‘to accept their oppressed situation without protest; if possible, even to rejoice in it’ (Elliott 2008:28–29).
Although Graeco-Roman philosophers saw virtue (moral goodness and propriety) as more important than benefaction, the ideology of patronage and benefaction determined the social fabric (class, status and honour) and social cohesion of the Roman Empire. Ancient empires were all about power, consisting of a network of interrelated powers (Horsley 2011:17). Power, either being political, economic or religious, was distributed in almost all cases through the system of patronage and clientism. Soon after coming into power Augustus, as the princeps or Patron of patrons, began running the Empire as a vast network of patron-client relationships. In Rome itself he controlled the aristocracy by distributing beneficia (e.g. senatorial offices, magistracies and honours as personal favours). Beyond Rome, Augustus established patron-client relationships with client kings (e.g. Herod the Great and Herod Antipas) and the elite of the major cities and provinces. Roman governors aggrandised their family positions and honour and status by competing for clients amongst local aristocrats which, in turn, competed for clients amongst the local populace. These patron-client relationships ‘consolidated political-economic power in a network of many pyramids of power, all unified at the top in the person of the emperor’ (Horsley 2011:33). With these relationships ‘the Romans demonstrated their fides (Gk pistis) – loyalty in the sense of protection – while the friends of Rome showed their fides, that is, their loyalty to Rome’ 
(Horsley 2011:33–34). In essence, however, these relationships in most cases consisted of negative reciprocity, and gave a kinship veneer to an exploitative practice. As put by Elliott (2008): 
The codes of patronage effectively masked the deeply exploitative nature of the tribute- and slave-based economy by simultaneously concealing the rapacity of the ruling class and naturalizing fundamentally unequal relationships through routines of theatrical reciprocity. (p. 29)
This then, was the gospel of the kingdom of Rome. Augustus – and the Caesars after him – acted as agent (‘son of god’ and Patron of patrons) of the gods in a mission to continually expand the borders of the Empire. Conquered peoples were suppressed and exploited by means of military supremacy, social control was built on fear, and power was unevenly distributed through patronage. At its core, Roman imperial theology proclaimed peace through violence (war and victory); Roman religion legitimised violence (war), violence led to victory, and victory to ‘peace’ (Borg & Crossan 2009:121). As put by Borg and Crossan (2009):
You must first worship to the gods; with them on your side, you can go to war; from that, of course, comes victory; then, only then, do you obtain peace. (p. 106)
This was the pax Romana, with mission, identity and ethos intertwined. But is this justice, especially towards outsiders, and ‘peace’, gained through violence?
The gospel of the kingdom of the Temple elite
Herod the Great, a client king of Rome, who earlier was governor (47–41 BCE) and tetrarch (41–40 BCE) of Galilee, ruled over Judaea from 37–4 BCE. After his death, Archelaus was appointed as ethnarch to rule Judea, Samaria and Idumea, only to be deposed by Augustus in 6 CE. Augustus incorporated Judaea and Samaria into the Roman province of Judaea (administrated by the province of Syria), which was ruled by the priestly aristocracy centered in the temple in Jerusalem under the control of the prefect of Judaea (e.g. Pontius Pilate). Rome, where possible, favoured ‘indirect rule’ (local leaders that ruled on behalf of the Empire), allowing the use of temples and the practising of cults or religions. Indirect rule had the advantage that it ‘provided a bridge of legitimation that enabled an empire to divide and rule’ (Horsley 1993:9). Popular resentment was deflected to the local aristocracy (the Temple elite in Judaea), whilst the imperial rulers remained remote or ‘invisible’, seemingly not involved. Herod the Great kept the temple and high priesthood intact as instrument of his own interest, and by 36 BCE had replaced the incumbent Hasmonean high priestly family with high priests of his own choosing, some from the Diaspora communities in Egypt and Babylon (Horsley 2011:35).
In terms of ideology, the elite priestly houses understood God in terms of his holiness (e.g. Lv 19:2). God’s holiness was embedded in the way God created. The way God created was to separate, as expressed in Genesis 1. For them, God’s creation expressed the divine order of the world; ‘it encoded various “maps” of lines which God made for Israel to perceive and to follow’ (Van Eck 2012:114). Creation constituted the original map of ‘purity’ (holiness) for Israel. ‘“You shall be holy as I, the Lord your God, am holy” (Lv 19:2) became the norm that indicated how things in Israel’s world should replicate and express the divine order established by God’s creation/holiness’ (Van Eck 2012:114; see also Neyrey 1991:277; Van Eck 1995:196–199). To replicate God’s holiness was to separate the ritually clean and unclean – a purity code that defined a society centred on the temple and its priests. The high priestly elite favoured the ‘Great Tradition’, which offered an interpretation of the Torah in service of their own interests, emphasising purity and tithing, a reading that legitimised their economic exploitation of the Galilean peasantry who battled to live at a level of subsistence (Herzog 2005:59).
To preserve their power and privilege, the priestly elite (as Roman clients) always took the side of Rome when conflicts arose between Judeans and Rome. Like the Roman and Herodian elite, the priestly elite accumulated wealth through tithes and offerings (consisting of up to 23% of a peasant’s harvest), and added peasant land to their estates by investing in loans (using the wealth they accrued in the temple) to the poor at up to 20% with the clear intention of foreclosing on their debtors when they could not repay their debts. They also denied benefits to those who failed to tithe their produce, rendering them (the so called am ha-aretz) unclean and indebted. Even the major pilgrimage festivals were ideologically employed; through liturgy and ritual the ‘Great Tradition’ was rehearsed and preserved, with the view to renew the ties of the peasantry with the temple, its sacrificial system, tithes and offerings (Herzog 2005:60). In their accumulation of wealth, the priestly elite ignored the widening gap between the rich elite and the poor peasantry and the social tension and hostility generated by the cycle of oppression and exploitation they encouraged through their own interests (Horsley 1993:90–120; Goodman 1982:426). As noted by Horsley (2011:36), the priestly elite even ‘maintained private gangs of strongmen, apparently for their own security, as well as to implement their predatory appropriation of people’s crops’. It is therefore not surprising that the popular memory of their exploitation of the peasantry and their evil deeds were recorded in the Talmud (Babylonian Talmud, Pesahim 57a; Menahoth 13:21) centuries later.
This then, was the gospel of the kingdom of the Temple elite. The priestly elite acted as the patron of God and the clients of Rome. As patron of God they emphasised the ‘Great Tradition’ for their own benefit, and as clients of Rome they emulated the exploitation of their Roman patrons. In terms of pistis, their loyalty was to Rome, and not to God. Their covert mission was to enrich themselves, and, as was the case with Rome, their ideology (God’s holiness and purity) legitimised violence (in the form of offerings and tithes). Again, we have mission, identity and ethos intertwined. Was this justice?
A view from below
In 109 CE Tacitus (Hist. 5.9–10) wrote that ‘under Tiberius all was quiet’. But, as Herzog (2005) notes:
to the peasant villagers who labored to survive under the harsh conditions of oppression and exploitation, the situation looked quite different. History from below rarely looks like history from above. (p. 173, [my emphasis]) 
How did history look from below for the peasant villagers?
Roman Palestine in the 1st-century was an advanced agrarian, and therefore an aristocratic and tributary, society. The ruling class (elite) comprised of only 1% – 2% of the population, and controlled most of the wealth (one-half up to two-thirds) by controlling the land, its produce and the peasants whose labour created the produce. As such, the elite shaped ‘the social experience of the empire’s inhabitants’, determined the ‘quality of life, exercised power, controlled wealth, and enjoyed high status’ (Carter 2006:3). Rome, the Herodian elite, and the aristocratic elite in Jerusalem controlled the land, its yield, its distribution, and its cultivators by extracting taxes, tribute, rents, tithes and offerings.
The Roman tribute consisted of two basic forms: the tributum soli [land tax] and the tributum capitis [poll tax]. Non-payment of taxes was seen as rebellion ‘because it refused recognition of Rome’s sovereignty over land, sea, labor, and production’ (Horsley 1993:6; see also Carter 2006:4). Next in line in Galilee was Herod Antipas together with the Herodian aristocracy, centred in Sepphoris and Tiberias. Antipas collected tribute especially to support his rule and to finance his extravagant building projects (the building of Tiberias and the rebuilding of Sepphoris). Finally, the temple aristocracy also took their share in the form of tithes and offerings to support the temple as well as Roman rule. Even the peasants of Galilee were subjected to this demand, although they lived outside the jurisdiction of Judaea. In short: Rome assessed its tribute and then left Herod and the temple elite free to exploit the land to whatever degree they saw fit, ‘a pattern often found in aristocratic empires and colonial powers’ (Herzog 2005:52).
From the side of the ruled this was seen as ‘brutal compulsion and oppression’ (Oakman 1986:59). Because the Roman Empire was legionary in character, it was possible for the elite to rule by coercion, meeting any kind of rebellion with ruthless military retaliation (see Horsley 1993:6). These armies were costly (food, clothing, housing and equipment), but taxes and special levies extracted from the ruled covered these costs. Put boldly: the ruled paid to be ruled over (see Van Eck 2012:107). The rulers treated controlled (conquered) land as their personal estate to confiscate, distribute, redistribute and disperse as they deemed fit (Herzog 2005:55; Oakman 2008:124, 147–149). This was also the case in Judaea where the priestly elite was in control (see Van Eck 2012:114). Rising indebtedness and the loss of land also led to the loss of the peasant’s place in the traditional social structure (see Horsley 1993:11). Because of taxes, tithes and loans, landowners (see Mk 4:3–9) first became tenants (Mk 12:1–12), then day labourers (Mt 20:1–16), and finally ended up as beggars in the cities (Lk 16:19–21).
This was the end result of the gospels of Rome and the Temple elite. Religion legitimised exploitation, whether it was political, economic or social. The pax Romana, as practised by Rome and its priestly clients – for those at the bottom of society – was not securitas [security], pax [peace], concordia [social harmony], felicitas [happiness], iustitia [justice], salus [health] or virtus [for the common good]. Rather, it was victoria [the power to rule and exploit]. Patronage, above all, only gave a kinship veneer to an exploitative practice. What was needed was a different patron that could distribute real justice, a different gospel and a different mission with an ethics that could give the exploited and outsiders a new identity. This was the view from the bottom.
The gospel of the kingdom of God
The presence of the gospels of Rome and the Temple elite in Mark
The presence and effect of the gospels of Rome and the Temple elite are written on almost every page of the gospel of Mark. The narrative world of Mark was a world of outsiders. The gospel of the Temple elite, focusing on purity and pollution, declared those possessed with unclean spirits (ἐν πνεύματι ἀκαθάρτῳ [Mk 1:23; 5:2; 9:25] or τοὺς δαιμονιζομένους [Mk 1:32]; see also Mk 1:39; 3:22; 6:13; 7:25; 9:17, 38), the sick (τοὺς κακῶς ἔχοντας; see Mk 1:32, 34; 2:17; 6:55) and those who had been sick for long (εἶχον μάστιγας; Mk 3:10; see also Mk 5:25–36), the lepers (λεπρὸς; Mk 1:40), the lame (παραλυτικὸν; Mk 2:3), the tax collectors (τελῶναι; Mk 2:15), those with deformities (Mk 3:1) the deaf and those with a speech impediment (κωφὸν καὶ μογιλάλον; Mk 7:32), the blind (τυφλὸν; Mk 8:22; 10:49) and the mute (ἄλαλον; Mk 9:17) as impure, and therefore asoutsiders. They were the ‘sinners’ (ἁμαρτωλοι; Mk 2:15), not holy or whole as God is holy or whole, and therefore banned from God’s presence in the temple. Also excluded from God’s presence and the temple were non-Israelites (outsiders per se) like the Gerasene demoniac (Mk 5:1–13) and the Syrophoenician woman (Mk 7:26; see m. Kelim 1.6 in Danby 2011:605–606).
Mark’s narrative world also attests to several other features of the gospel of the Temple elite. Think again of the Babylonian Talmud, Pesaḥim 57a, in which the high priestly families are described in terms of their use of staves (with which they beat people), whisperings (secret meetings to devise oppressive measures), pens (with which they write down debts) and fists, their sons as treasurers, their sons-in-laws as temple overseers, and their servants beating people with clubs. Most of these characteristics are present in Mark’s world: financial gain in running the temple (Mk 11:15), using the temple as a den of robbers (σπήλαιον λῃστῶν; Mk 11:17) to stack what has been ‘robbed’ from the peasantry (the exploitative redistributing of the offerings and tithes of the peasantry to benefit only a few; see Oakman 2008:195), conspiracy to commit violence (Mk 11:18), ‘whisperings’ to get Jesus convicted on false pretentions (Mk 14:10; 14:55–59; 15:11), and their use of the sword (Mk 14:43, 47) and fists (Mk 14:65). Their use of violence is also evident in their plan to kill Jesus (Mk 14:1–2) and their collaboration with Pilate 
(Mk 15:1) to get Jesus killed.The presence of the gospel of Rome is also evident in Mark’s narrative world. The actions of the Herodians (Mk 3:6), Herod Antipas (Mk 6:14, 27) and Pilate (Mk 15:1–15) simulate Jesus’ reference in Mark 10:42 to rulers who lord it over the people by exercising their authority by either using their military strong arm (Mk 15:16; see also Mk 5:9) or by committing or planning to commit violence (e.g. Mk 3:6; 6:14, 27). Mark 12:1–12 (Parable of the Tenants) not only mirrors this violence, but also tells the story of peasants that lost their land because of taxes and rents, and now have become tenants (see Van Eck 2007:909–936, 2012:101–132). The peasantry’s downwards scale of economic mobility because of Rome’s economic policy can be detected in the two feeding stories (Mk 6:35–44; 8:1–9) that describe those who are following Jesus as having close to nothing to support themselves andnothing to eat (Mk 8:2), and in the references in the Gospel to the poor (Mk 10:21; 14:7). Jesus is killed by crucifixion, the Roman way that was used to remove ‘undesirables such as violent criminals, rebellious slaves, and brigands or rebels who opposed Rome’s rule’ (Carter 2013:106), and the many narratives on the demon-possessed indicate the effect Rome’s ‘peace’ had on those at the bottom of the stratified society of 1st-century Palestine.
Clearly the gospels of Rome and the Temple elite did not benefit the people we meet in Mark’s narrative world. In both cases religion (being chosen by the gods or advocating a holy God) legitimised a mission of protecting one’s own interests driven by an ethics of violence. Rome (Augustus and his client kings) and the temple (the priestly elite) as patrons did not employ patronage – as was its common use – to exchange unequal resources (social, economic and political) to the benefit of all (with generalised reciprocity as ideal), but instead used it to enhance their own social, economic and political positions to the detriment of their ‘clients’.
Gospel and kingdom in Mark: Mission as sensitivity to outsiders and the marginalised
Given the political, social and economic connotations εὐαγγέλιον [good news] carried in the 1st-century Roman Empire (and therefore also in the narrative world of Mark), and given that Caesar was honoured as the son of god (the patron of patrons), Mark’s use of these two terms in the first verse of his gospel (Ἀρχὴ τοῦ εὐαγγελίου Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ υἱοῦ θεοῦ) is highly significant. Mark 1:1 states to its recipients that there is a different gospel from the gospels of Rome and the Temple elite, and that the Son of God is Jesus, not Caesar. What is the content of this gospel, and who is this Son of God? Mark first answers the question on the identity of the Son of God. At Jesus baptism, which can be understood as a status transformation ritual (see Van Eck 1996:119–200), Jesus status is transformed from being ‘the carpenter, the son of Mary, and brother of James, and Joses, and Judas, and Simon’ (Mk 6:3) to God’s Son. Jesus is the appointed Son of God, not Caesar. This replacement of Caesar by Jesus as the Son of God is highlighted by the phrase ‘τὸ πνεῦμα ὡς περιστερὰν καταβαῖνον εἰς αὐτόν’ [the Spirit decended on him like a dove] in Mark 1:10. In the Roman worldview birds, especially eagles, indicated ‘providential favor for the accession to power of the person on or near whom they alighted’ (Peppard 2010:445). Peppard (2010) continuous:
[T]he bellicose eagle was the primary symbol of Roman military might and concomitantly of Roman imperial ideology, while the dove was a contrasting symbol of fear or nonviolence. (p. 447) 
In Mark 1:10, the dove descending on Jesus is thus used by Mark as ‘an omen and counter-symbol to the Roman eagle … [the] public portent of divine favor, election, and ascension to imperial power’ (Peppard 2010:433). By using the symbol of the dove, Mark thus depicts Jesus, at his baptism, as a ‘counter-emperor’ (Peppard 2010:450), not in the spirit of the bellicose eagle, but in the spirit of ‘the pure, gentle, peaceful … dove’ (Peppard 2010:450).
What is the gospel of Jesus, the real Son of God? This Mark answers in Mark 1:15: πεπλήρωται ὁ καιρὸς καὶ ἤγγικεν ἡ βασιλεία τοῦ θεοῦ μετανοεῖτε καὶ πιστεύετε ἐν τῷ εὐαγγελίῳ [the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel]. Several aspects of Mark 1:15 are important: Firstly, this kingdom is already present, as can be seen by the use of πεπλήρωται [fulfilled] (perfect passive) and ἤγγικεν [near or close] (perfect passive), and not the future tense (see Crossan 2012:161). Secondly, there is only one gospel (τῷ εὐαγγελίῳ [the gospel]; see also τοῦ εὐαγγελίου [the gospel] in Mk 1:1), and not many gospels. Rome had gospels (εὐαγγέλια), namely the accession of a new emperor, annual birthdays of the emperor, births of sons of emperors and the military victories of Rome. All these events were considered as proclamations of ‘good news’, that is, Rome’s gospels. Jesus’ gospel, however, was the gospel, the good news – the figure of Jesus, and not Augustus, is the announcement of God’s triumph; in Jesus, the Son of God, a new age has dawned – the kingdom of God. Thirdly, to be part of this kingdom μετάνοια is necessary. In its Greek root μετάνοια, according to Borg (2011:157, 159) means ‘to go beyond the mind we have’ and to ‘embark on a journey of return to God’. What is thus needed is the insight that a new age has dawned, and that loyalty (πίστις) towards this new kingdom is necessary to partake in its mission. Loyalty (πίστις) in future should thus lie with the kingdom of God, and not with the kingdoms of Rome or the Temple elite. Finally, the implicit message of Mark 1:1 and 15 is not only that Jesus is the Son of God – hence, not Caesar – but also that a new patron has replaced the patrons of Rome and the Temple elite. At his baptism Jesus is not only proclaimed as the Son of God (σὺ εἶ ὁ υἱός μου ὁ ἀγαπητός [you are my beloved Son], ἐν σοὶ εὐδόκησα [in you I am pleased]; Mk 1:11), but also as the patron. There is only one gospel, one patron and one kingdom, a μετάνοια that should become visible in πίστις.
Jesus, as God’s agent and patron of his kingdom, immediately after his pronouncement of the dawn of this new reality, starts his mission by making the kingdom visible. God’s kingdom is a kingdom directed at outsiders with a patron that, in his patronage, cushions the vagaries of social inferiors (outsiders or marginalised) by endowing those who are loyal to his kingdom with the overarching quality of kinship. Moreover, the gospel of this kingdom proclaims and enacts God’s justice vis-à-vis the injustices of the gospels and kingdoms of Rome and the Temple elite. This becomes clear in the patronage the Markan Jesus endows without distinction to outsiders in Mark’s narrative world. Different from Augustus, Antipas, the Herodians and Temple elite, the patronage of Jesus does not have ulterior (political) motives (see Mk 8:29–33), and his mission is not aimed at protecting self-interest through violence; rather his patronage enacts justice and peace.
This can be seen in Mark from the following: those labelled by the Temple elite as outsiders or deviants – elements of chaos that violate the set order of the world (holiness) as perceived by the ideology of the Temple elite – are healed by Jesus without exception (see Mk 1:30–34, 40–43; 2:3–12; 3:5, 10; 5:22–42; 6:5, 53–56). The demon-possessed – most probably as a result of Roman occupation and patriarchal exploitation – are healed by exorcism (esp. Mk 5:1–20, see also Mk 1:23–26, 34; 3:11; 7:25–30; 9:20–27). In these healings and exorcisms, victoria (the power over enemies who know that Jesus is the Son of God) belongs to Jesus, and by forgiving sins (see Mk 2:5), Jesus usurps the right of Caesar and the Temple elite to show mercy (clementia) and create salus [health]. Tax-collectors and sinners are called to show their loyalty towards the new kingdom (Mk 2:13–14), and by eating with tax-collectors and sinners (Mk 2:15), the Markan Jesus emphasises the inclusive character of the kingdom vis-à-vis the exclusive character of the kingdoms of Rome and the Temple elite. Jesus, as patron of the outsiders and the inclusive kingdom of God, even goes so far as to extend his patronage to non-Israelites. He appoints Thaddeus (most probably non-Jewish because of his Greek name; Donahue and Harrington 2002:12) as one of his closest followers (Mk 3:18), heals the daughter of a Roman official (Mk 5:22–23, 35–42), the daughter of a Syrophoenician woman (Mk 7:24–30), and a deaf in the region of the Decapolis (thus most probably a non-Jew; Mk 7:31–37). The Markan Jesus, himself being treated as an outsider (see Mk 2:6, 18; 3:2, 6, 21–22; 5:17; 6:1–3; 7:5; 12:1), has become the patron for outsiders.
Another example of Jesus extending patronage and justice to Jewish and non-Jewish outsiders is the two feeding narratives in Mark 6:30–44 and Mark 8:1–10. The gospels of Rome and the Temple elite resulted in a peasantry that battled to live at the level of subsistence because of these gospels’ exploitative injustices. Jesus, on the other hand, extends justice to the exploited by feeding the crowds, feedings that can be depicted as redistributive justice, that is, what is available – five loaves and two fish in Mark 6:38 (ἄρτους … πέντε καὶ δύο ἰχθύας) and seven loaves (ἄρτους … ἑπτά) and a few small fish (ἰχθύδια ὀλίγα) in Mark 8:5 and 7 – is distributed fairly and equitably amongst all present. Because of this patronage of justice, in both these feedings all present receive enough to eat and are satisfied (καὶ ἔφαγον πάντες καὶ ἐχορτάσθησαν [Mk 6:42] and καὶ ἔφαγον καὶ ἐχορτάσθησαν (Mk 8:8]). So abundant is the justice of Jesus that those who ate were five thousand (only the men; Mk 6:44) and four thousand (Mk 8:9), and after both feedings there were leftovers (twelve baskets [δώδεκα κοφίνων] in Mk 6:43 and seven baskets [ἑπτὰ σπυρίδας] in Mk 8:8).
A close reading of these two feeding narratives indicates several differences between Mark 6:30–44 and Mark 8:1–10, differences that are important to grasp Mark’s intention in narrating the feeding of the crowd as a doublet. With this doublet, Mark indicates that Jesus’ patronage and extension of justice is not only available to Jews, but also to non-Jews. The first feeding narrative (Mk 6:30–44) takes place in Galilee (Jewish territory; see Mk 6:1, 6, 30, 32–33), and more specifically, in a ‘desolate place’ (ἔρημον τόπον [Mk 6:31, 32] and ἔρημός … τόπος [Mk 6:35]). Mark’s use of ἔρημον τόπον, as the place of the feeding of the crowd, resonates with ἐν τῇ ἐρήμῳ [in the deset/lonely place] in Mark 1:13, the place where Jesus, after his baptism, prepared for his mission and was ministered to (fed) by angels (as representatives of God). Mark’s linking of Mark 1:13 with Mark 6:31, 32 and 35 (in his use of ἔρημος [desert/lonely place]), most probably draws the following parallel: as Jesus, God’s designated patron, was ministered to by the angels in a time of need, Jesus now extends his patronage to a crowd who was like sheep without a shepherd (ὅτι ἦσαν ὡς πρόβατα μὴ ἔχοντα ποιμένα; Mk 6:34). Jesus’ mission, received at his baptism, is now extended by means of redistributive justice. God’s compassion towards Jesus in a time of need becomes Jesus’ compassion (ἐσπλαγχνίσθη) to those in need.
For the Markan Jesus, patronage received must become patronage extended; being part of Jesus’ mission implies partaking in Jesus’ mission. This is why Jesus, as was the case in Mark 6:7–12 – in spite of the disciples’ request to send the crowd away (Mk 6:35–36) and their excuses in Mark 6:35 and 37b (the lateness of the hour and the loneliness of the place) – challenges the disciples to feed the crowd (Mk 6:37a). The disciples’ failure to enact Jesus’ mission, contrary to the report of their successful extension of Jesus’ mission in Mark 6:30, does, however, not bring Jesus to exclude them from patronage being extended: the disciples are ordered to have the crowd sit down on the green grass in groups of a hundred and fifty, and the multiplied loaves and fish are given to the disciples (as intermediaries) to distribute amongst the crowds (Mk 6:41b). Finally, the abundance of Jesus’ patronage is described in Mark 6:42–44: more than five thousand were fed (see again note 41), and after everyone ate and was satisfied, twelve baskets of leftovers (κλάσματα δώδεκα κοφίνων) were collected (Mk 6:43).
In comparison to the first feeding narrative, Mark goes to great lengths to portray the second feeding narrative as taking place in non-Jewish territory. Patronage is not only extended to marginalised Jews, but also to non-Jews excluded from God’s presence as propagated by the Temple elite. Except for explicitly situating the second feeding narrative in non-Jewish territory (see Δεκαπόλεως in Mk 7:31 and ’εν ἐκείναις ταῖς ἡμέραις in Mk 8:1), a comparison of Mark 6:30–44 with Mark 8:1–10 shows that Mark 8:1–10 can be understood as a ‘non-Jewish-version’ of Mark 6:30–44. In the words of Moloney (2002:156) as: ‘[a] deliberate reprise of 6:31–44, where Jesus fed a Jewish crowd, 8:1–9 is a carefully located story of Jesus’ feeding of a Gentile crowd.’
In this regard, the following differences between the two feeding narratives can be noted: Firstly, Mark 8:1–10 follows two miracle narratives in non-Jewish territory (Mk 7:24–30 and 7:31–37). Typical of Mark’s preference for ‘threes’, these two miracles are followed by a third miracle narrative, also in non-Jewish territory. Secondly, contrary to Mark 6:33 where the crowd comes from towns located close to the western shore of the Sea of Galilee, the crowd in the second feeding narrative is described as coming from afar (ἀπὸ μακρόθεν), a term used in LXX Joshua 9:6, 9 and LXX Isaiah 60:4 (see also Ac 2:39; 22:21; Eph 2:12, 17) to describe non-Jews (Donahue & Harrington 2002:244; Pesch 1984:402–403). Mark, finally, in using ἤδη ἡμέραι τρεῖς (Mk 8:2), is indicating that Jesus is still on non-Jewish soil, with a crowd that has accompanied him during the miracle narratives that are narrated in Mark 7:24–30 and 7:31–37 (see also μέσον τῶν ὁρίων Δεκαπόλεως [within the region of Decapolis] in Mk 7:31). Whilst the feeding in Mark 6:30–44 takes place in Galilee (Jewish territory), the feeding in Mark 8:1–10 thus clearly takes place in non-Jewish territory.
Mark’s use of numbers in the two feeding narratives further highlights the non-Jewish setting of the second feeding narrative. The five loaves of Mark 6:38b become seven (ἑπτὰ) loaves in Mark 8:5, and the twelve (δώδεκα) baskets of Mark 6:43 become seven baskets in Mark 8:8. The use of the number seven in Mark 8:5 and 8, when compared with Genesis 9:4–7 (the seven Noahic commandments; see Pesch 1984:404), Acts 6:3 (the seven Hellenists chosen as ‘deacons’) and Acts 13:19 (the seven pagan nations of Canaan) may indicate a non-Jewish number (Donahue & Harrington 2002:245; Focant 2012:313, 314). Mark also turns the κοφίνων of Mark 6:43 into σπυρίδας (Mk 8:8). Whereas σπυρίδας refers to a more elegant basket, κοφίνων refers to a ‘wicker basket’, which Roman authors saw as characteristic of the Jewish people (Donahue & Harrington 2002:245). Mark also changes the five thousand (πεντακισχίλιοι) being fed in Mark 6:44 to four thousand (τετρακισχίλιοι) in Mark 8:9. The use of the number four thousand may refer to the association of the number four thousand with the four corners of the earth, ‘suggesting the ingathering of the Gentiles’ (Donahue & Harrington 2002:245; Pesch 1984:404).
Mark further highlights the non-Jewish setting of Mark 8:1–10 by replacing εὐλόγησεν [blessed] (Mk 6:41) with the Greek εὐχαριστήσας [give thanks] (the formula of thanksgiving used in Hellenistic believing communities) in Mark 8:6. Although these two verbs are at times interchangeable (Gnilka 1978:303), and may simply indicate a stylistic variation (Moloney 2002:154), the use of εὐχαριστήσας most often suggests the taking up of a Hellenistic tradition (Focant 2012:312–313; Gnilka 1978:303; Moloney 2002:154). Mark’s focus on non-Jews in Mark 8:1–10 may also account for the use of ἰχθύδια ὀλίγα [little fish] in Mark 8:7, instead of the ἰχθύας [fish] of Mark 6:38, 41 and 43. Mark’s use of ἰχθύδια ὀλίγα may refer to the crumbs eaten by little dogs as evoked by the Syrophoenician woman in Mark 7:28. If, in Mark 7:28, the children (παιδίων) is understood as the house of Israel, and the little dogs (κυνάρια) as those not part of the house of Israel, Mark’s use of ἰχθύδια ὀλίγα may refer to yet another non-Jewish aspect of the second feeding narrative.
The second feeding narrative, in emphasising its non-Jewish context, also omits certain Jewish traits that are part of the first feeding narrative. In the first feeding narrative, the crowd is described as ‘ὡς πρόβατα μὴ ἔχοντα ποιμένα’ [like sheep without a sheperd] (Mk 6:34), and ordered by the disciples to sit on the green grass (ἐπὶ τῷ χλωρῷ χόρτῳ; Mk 6:39) in groups of one hundred and fifty (ἀνέπεσαν πρασιαὶ πρασιαὶ κατὰ ἑκατὸν καὶ κατὰ πεντήκοντα; Mk 6:40). These three aspects of the first feeding narrative allude to Old Testament or Jewish imagery. The crowd described as sheep without a shepherd has its origin in Numbers 27:17 (see also Ezk 34:5–6; 1 Ki 22:17; 2 Chr 18:16; Jdg 11:9), the green grass of Mark 6:39 alludes to Psalm 23:1–2 (see τόπον χλόης in LXX Ps 22:2), and the groups of one hundred and fifty to Exodus 18:21, Numbers 31:14 and Deuteronomy 1:15 (Moloney 2002:13–131). Because of its non-Jewish setting, all these Jewish elements are consistently absent from the second feeding narrative.
These two feeding narratives, apart from explicitly showing the extension of Jesus’ patronage to all outsiders (exploited Jews and non-Jews), also functions in Mark to highlight the difference between the patronage extended by the gospels of Roman and the Temple elite, and that of Jesus. The feeding of the crowds in the two feeding narratives ‘is dramatically juxtaposed to the macabre banquet of Herod in 6:14–29’ (Donahue & Harrington 2002:209). Donahue and Harrington (2009) continues:
Herod’s banquet is a birthday celebration for the select upper classes and held presumably in a palace; the banquet offered by Jesus is for ordinary people and held on the green grass for those who come on foot from various towns, Herod’s banquet begins with Herodias’ grudge against John, and Jesus’ banquet starts with his compassion on the hungry crowds. Herod gives orders that John should be executed, whereas Jesus gives orders that the crowd should be fed. (p. 209)
However, the two feeding narratives not only highlight the difference between the gospel of Rome and that of Jesus, but also the difference between the gospel Jesus and that of the Temple elite. Earlier a reference was made to meals as ceremonies with the function of confirming values and structures in the institutions of society (see fn. 41). For the gospel of the Temple elite (also practised by the Pharisees and scribes) ritual purity was important, especially when it came to eating and drinking. Mark 7:1–5 is clear on the content of this gospel: eating food with unwashed (defiled) hands and drinking from unwashed cups, pitchers and kettles renders one impure. According to the gospel of the Temple elite, purity was important to receive the patronage of the God of Israel. Impurity meant exclusion, becoming an outsider. In the two feeding narratives the Markan Jesus and those being fed transgresses these purity rules without hesitation. No hands are washed and no utensils (if any were available) are purified. As such, the feeding stories not only align with Jesus’ point of view of Mark 7:6–23, but also challenge the gospel of the Temple elite. What is important is not the traditions of the elders (παράδοσιν τῶν πρεσβυτέρων; Mk 7:3, 5, 8, 9, 13), but that people in need receive something to eat. As such, the feeding narratives can be seen as an ‘attack’ on the patronage of the Temple elite. In Jesus’ mission an ethics of compassion replaces the tradition of the elders; put differently, inclusivity replaces exclusivity.
Several other aspects of the Markan Jesus’ patronage can be seen as direct ‘attacks’ on the patronage of Rome and the Temple elite. By calling fisherman as his followers (Mk 1:16–20), and by multiplying loaves of bread and fish, the Markan Jesus covertly undermines the flow of taxes to the coffers of Rome. Also, by healing the demon-possessed, he cushions the vagaries created by the gospel of Rome and breaks the control this gospel had on Rome’s subordinates. Interestingly, the exorcised demons exactly know who Jesus is – the Son of God (see Mk 1:24; 3:11). In defeating the demons or evil spirits, the Markan Jesus is defeating Rome, and because of this, is being hailed as the Son of God, the one in whom real power and influence reside. The same can be said with regard to the gospel of the Temple elite. By ignoring the purity rules (ideology) of the temple (Mk 1:41; 2:18; 2:23; 3:5), by forgiving sins (Mk 2:5), by healing on the Sabbath (Mk 3:10), by touching the death (Mk 5:41) and ‘impure’ (Mk 1:41; or allowing the ‘impure’ to touch him, see e.g. Mk 6:56) and by using ‘impure’ spit to heal (Mk 7:33; 8:22–23), the Markan Jesus establishes himself as the true patron of God, and declares the temple and its ideology as obsolete. Again, authentic power and influence reside in Jesus. The kingdom of God is for outsiders; it is like a mustard seed that grows up and becomes larger than all the garden plants so that the birds of the air can nest under its shade.
Jesus’ patronage, finally, is also extended to the most vulnerable and marginalised persons in 1st-century Mediterranean society, namely women and children. Because of its patriarchal social structure, women and children in the 1st-century Mediterranean world were treated as property. The status of the male head of the household was based on the conviction that life was embedded in male semen, and that the female ‘provided nothing beyond a place for the seed’s growth until birth’ (Malina-Jacobs 1993:1). Because of this conviction, males were seen as superior to females. This position of males was expressed in terms of honour, whilst that of women in terms of shame, and as a result, women and children were seen as mere property. The position of children in the 1st-century Mediterranean was even worse than that of women. Children were seen as ‘nobodies’ (Crossan 1991:269), ‘the weakest, most vulnerable members of society’ (Malina & Rohrbaugh 2003:336) with little status within the community or family. Minors, for example, had a status on a par with that of slaves, and orphans were the stereotype of the weakest and most vulnerable members of society (Malina & Rohrbaugh 2003:336).
Given the status of women and children, the Markan Jesus’ patronage extended to these most vulnerable and marginalised persons of society is exceptional and went against the grain of the norms of the gospels of Rome and the Temple elite. In Mark’s narrative world women are part of Jesus’ followers (Mk 15:40–41), and several women are healed by Jesus (Mk 5:21–43; 7:24–30). The Markan Jesus does not treat women as symbols of impurity (Mk 5:21–43), he allows a woman to pour perfume on his body (Mk 14:3–9), and refuses to become involved in a piece of androcentric humour regarding a women who has been married seven times (Mk 12:18–27). The Markan Jesus also uses women as examples of true discipleship (Mk 5:34; 7:24–30), and at the end of Mark’s narrative it is the women who are present at Jesus’ crucifixion (Mk 14:41–44) and those who visit the grave (Mk 16:1–2). In the last few verses of the narrative it is also the women who are asked to convey a message to the male disciples who have deserted Jesus earlier (Mk 16:7). In short, the Markan Jesus’ attitude towards women is inclusive, non-sexist and egalitarian, and women are typified as true participants of the kingdom of God, as can be seen in their compassion (ethics) towards Jesus.
In the narrative world of Mark, Jesus also extends patronage to children. Jesus heals the daughter of Jairus (Mk 5:22–24, 35–43), and associates with street children (Mk 10:13–16; see Van Aarde 2001:135–154, 2004:132–136). The Markan Jesus even goes so far as to state that only those who are willing to be as vulnerable as children can be part of the kingdom of God (Mk 10:15). 
Apart from the content of Jesus’ patronage, Mark also describes the result of Jesus’ patronage. Jesus has become the patron that everybody is talking about (Mk 1:28; 3:7–8) and wants to see (Mk 6:56), the one that has authority (Mk 1:27, 44; 2:12, 28). As such, Jesus bounded the strong men (the patrons of Rome and the Temple elite), entered their houses, and plundered their property (Mk 3:27). The kingdom of God has turned the world upside down: the official patrons have been replaced by a new patron, and the ‘sinners’ are not the outsiders created by the gospels of Rome and the Temple elite. The sinners are those who ransack the temple (the priestly elite; Mk 11:17) and those in whose hands Jesus is delivered to be killed (Mk 14:41). Above all, the pretentious ‘son of god’, Augustus, has been replaced by Jesus as the only and true Son of God, ironically proclaimed by a Roman centurion after Jesus’ death on the cross (ἀληθῶς οὗτος ὁ ἄνθρωπος υἱὸς θεοῦ ἦν; Mk 15:39).
To summarise: In Mark’s narrative, Jesus, through his patronage, creates an inclusive community for outsiders by remedying the inadequacies of Rome and the Temple elite within the overarching quality of kinship. Being part of this fictive kinship (kingdom of God) is not hereditary or based on blood; to be part of the kingdom is to do the will of the Father (Mk 3:35) which follows from being loyal to its patron and his mission (to have πίστις). Those who have πίστις are taken up in the mission and kingdom of the patron (see Mk 2:5; 4:40; 5:34; 10:52; 11:22, 24; 13:21), and those with ἀπιστία [unbelief or disloyalty] (Mk 6:6; 9:19) exclude themselves from the kingdom. Those with πίστις will be able to tell the mountain (the temple mount, and thus by implication the kingdom of the Temple elite) to be cast in the sea (Mk 11:23), but those who are open to the yeast of the Temple elite and Rome will not understand what real justice entails (Mk 8:15–21).
Being part of the kingdom of God turns outsiders into insiders. This new identity entails the willingness to be taken up in the mission of its patron by standing up for justice and showing compassion in the same way as the patron of the kingdom of God. In Mark’s narrative of Jesus this means the same κηρύσσειν [proclamation] (Mk 3:14) as Jesus (Mk 1:14), the same call to μετάνοια [repentance] (Mk 6:12), the same resistance towards the Temple elite and Rome (Mk 3:15; 6:7), as well as an ethos that participates in the ethos of the patron. In Mark being part of the kingdom entails, (1) the willingness to deny oneself and to take up one’s own cross (i.e. the willingness to lose one’s life for the sake of the patron and his gospel (Mk 8:34–35), (2) to be a servant of all (Mk 9:35; 10:45), (3) not lord it over others but to serve (Mk 10:42–45) and (4) to expect nothing in return (i.e. to practise generalised reciprocity).
A life that enacts this set of ethics is identity concretely expressed, and is missional in the sense that the participatio Jesu relates to being taken up in and being a broker of Jesus’ patronage, especially towards outsiders. 
Concluding remarks
Rome’s imperial theology claimed that Rome was chosen by the gods to rule an empire without end (mission). To show these gods’ rule, will and blessings, Rome claimed sovereignty over sea and land, and all its inhabitants: the ‘right’ to domination, power and violence (ethics). Rome was ‘the lords of the world’, with Caesar as main benefactor or patron (identity). The result of this ideology was the pax Romana, a peace gained through violence. This was Rome’s gospel.
The ideology of the Temple elite was based on the understanding of God as holy, expressed by creation as the divine order of the world. To replicate God’s holiness was to separate the ritually and social clean and unclean, a purity code that defined a society centered on the temple and its priests (mission). Acting as God’s ‘appointed’ patrons (identity), the priestly elite preserved their power and privilege by always taking the side of Rome, accumulating wealth through tithes and offerings and adding peasant land to their estates by investing in loans (ethics). The result of this ideology was ‘peace’, gained through systemic violence by drawing boundaries to exclude the impure and social expendables. This was the gospel of the Temple elite.
The gospel of the kingdom of God, however, proclaimed peace through justice. Mission and ethics went hand in hand. To be part of this mission – embodied by the Markan Jesus, God’s appointed patron – μετάνοια [repentance] from the gospels of Rome and the Temple elite and πίστις [loyalty] towards the gospel and mission of God’s kingdom was a prerequisite. Enacting this mission was to stand up for justice and to show compassion towards outsiders created by the gospels of Rome and the Temple elite, thus by being patrons of the God of this kingdom (identity). Because of this mission, identity and ethics, pax [peace], concordia [social harmony], felicitas [happiness], clementia [mercy], iustitia [justice], salus [health], virtus [the common good] and spes [hope] was available to all.
Acknowledgements
Competing interests
The author declares that he has no financial or personal relationship(s) which may have inappropriately influenced him in writing this article.
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