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21 And he said to them, “Is a lamp brought in to be put under a basket, or under a bed, and not on a stand? 22 For nothing is hidden except to be made manifest; nor is anything secret except to come to light. 23 If anyone has ears to hear, let him hear.”
Mark 4: 21-23
The default way these verses are read has to do with our Christian witness as individuals. Or perhaps, with the Church as a whole. Hide it under a bushel? NO! This is the way I taught it to children when I was a Children’s Minister, and it’s the way I’ve heard it preached and taught my whole life.
But eminent Biblical scholar Richard B. Hays thinks something else is going on than an exhortation to “let our lights shine before men.” He points out that in Mark, the Greek word έρχεται, the word translated here “brought,” is in the active voice rather than the passive. έρχεται doesn’t mean “brought,” it means “comes.” The lamp comes. Who is the lamp that comes to shine? The lamp is Jesus himself. Jesus is the light of the world, and he did not come into the world just to hide under a basket.
This story, now reframed with the lamp as the active agent, spotlights two major threads in tension throughout Mark’s presentation of Jesus: Jesus’ intentionality in coming into the world, and his seeming hiddenness in the world.
Mark’s original audience was desperate to see God break through and be visible and active once more. The evidence of their experience pointed to a God who had lost interest. Or maybe had grown disgusted with his people’s sin, and turned his back on them. Israel’s identity as a distinct people group was in question—the Romans seemed on a hair trigger to squash them if they asserted themselves too much. And yet wouldn’t submitting and acknowledging Roman authority demonstrate unfaithfulness to their God? After all, their God was supposed to be their King.
In the midst of this, John the Baptist had been laying the groundwork for something new and momentous. He burst onto this tense and desperate stage, a one-man prophetic theater complete with clothing that recalled Elijah, harsh words, and very Old-school-Prophet vibes. Through John’s baptisms, Israel symbolically re-crossed the Jordan as they had done physically in the time of Joshua. It was as if John was saying, “God is on the move again—renew your vows to him while you can!” John, and now the Jewish people, knew that they were preparing for something big. Something that would turn their world upside-down.
John’s ministry gave way to Jesus, and Jesus’ ministry had started with a bang, living up—at least for now— to the “something big” everyone was expecting. He performed the kinds of miracles only read about in the Scriptures, and shocked everyone with his authoritative teaching. And yet Jesus kept on not coming out and just saying who he was. Was he going to challenge Rome, leading Israel to a military victory to re-establish Israelite independence? Would he set himself up as a replacement to the Levitical Priesthood and dissuade people from keeping Torah? Was he a threat to their tenuous grasp on their nationhood, or a possible savior for it? What was he, and what was he doing?
Mark trusts us as the reader—as he trusted his original audience—to pay close attention and come to our own conclusion. The original audience was exhorted to have ears so they could hear. We must do the same.
24 Then He said to them, “Take heed what you hear. With the same measure you use, it will be measured to you; and to you who hear, more will be given. 25 For whoever has, to him more will be given; but whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken away from him.”
For Mark, close reading in faith will reward the reader with understanding. But a stingy reader will get what he puts into it—a dry, surface-level of understanding.
It would have been very dangerous for Jesus to come out and claim to be one with Israel’s God. As it happened, this truth did eventually cost Jesus his life. So it’s no wonder that he spent the first two years of his ministry veiling his speech with cryptic sayings and riddles. Jesus hiding in plain sight in this parable is the more that is given to us when we pay close attention.
In Mark’s Gospel, the Lamp has come, and we can know—by virtue of its lampishness—that it has come to shine. Jesus used common sense imagery to show that just as a Lamp does not come out to be put under a basket, so this Lamp has come not to be hidden, but to shine and to illuminate all things.
What is presented at first as a secret is only hidden until the right time for full light has come. As the rest of Jesus’ ministry, life, and death would show, his Light enraged the darkness. Jesus was strategic and intentional; he did not cast his pearls before swine or give himself over to men who called the light darkness. He had too many eager sheep, crowding his door—hoping to catch a glimpse, hoping to hear some Words of Life. He came for them. He has come for you.
It took a heart of faith to see in Jesus that Israel’s God was becoming Israel’s King. And today, in the midst of what feels like an ever-darkening world, it takes a heart of faith to see that Israel’s King continues to become the King of the Cosmos. It has been happening gradually—as yeast works its way through dough—and not all at once in a bloody revolution, as if Jesus were a worldly tyrant.
Jesus came into the world in humility, his first throne of straw and his first court some surprised livestock. The Kingdom was won two thousand years ago, when Jesus defeated death and blew life into the flickering embers of his rag-tag followers. Ever since, the Church has grown, stumbled, and worshiped in the gradual dawning and unfolding of his reign.
During Jesus’ lifetime, his popularity ebbed and flowed. Even his biological family came to shut down his ministry, saying that he had gone too far, that he was obviously insane. Hundreds turned away from following him when they could not accept his cryptic sayings. From the perspective of the world, the Light seemed to rise and fall, wax and wane. But the Lord of Light only goes dark to harrow the Underworld before rising again. He only hides the truth of the kingdom from those who can not yet accept it. He only keeps those at arm’s distance those who cannot yet embrace him.
Jesus, that splendid Lamp, did not come into the world to be ultimately hidden. Jesus’ words make clear that any hiddenness is only for a time so that the eventual bursting in of light will be the more glorious. He has already been made King, and he has spent the last two thousand years pu a bride worthy of him. He will not allow us finally to fall into darkness. He will not allow us all to forget. He is the King!