Was Jesus Moved to Heal the Leper By Anger or Compassion

Mike Leake

IMG_1609One of my favorite Greek words is splagchnizomai. It sounds like something you’d order in an Italian restaurant. But in reality it’s more like what happens after you eat Taco Bell—it means to be moved in the bowels. All kidding aside, it’s actually a rather emotional word. It’s to be moved by something so deeply that you feel it in the depth of your being. In the Scriptures splagchnizomai is what stirs Jesus to action. One of these places is Mark 1:41,

Moved with pity (splagchnizomai), he stretched out his hand and touched him and said to him, “I will; be clean.”

But there is a little problem here. Some manuscripts have the word orgistheis (moved by anger) instead of splagchnizomai (moved by compassion). What this means is that when we compile all the fragments we have from the Gospel of Mark 1:41 some of those read “anger” and some of them read “compassion”. You’ve noticed this if you are an NIV reader:

41 Jesus was indignant. He reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!”

How do we determine which one is original? Today I hope to walk you through the process of making a decision like this. At the end of the day this is one of those places where we likely conclude with Metzger: “It is difficult to come to a firm decision concerning the original text”. But walking through the process can be incredibly helpful even if we cannot come to a firm conclusion.

External Evidence

The first thing to consider is the external evidence. There are thousands of manuscripts. Some are more reliable than others. As an example, if you were trying to determine the truthfulness of a story, should more weight be given to a person who lived in the region and only a few years removed or would you give more weight to a person who did not live in the region and was a couple decades removed from the event? In the case of biblical manuscripts sometimes they are several hundred years and thousands of miles away from the event.

All of these manuscripts are divided into text families. And scholars debate which family to give the most weight to, but most are in agreement that the Western texts are the least reliable. Here in Mark 1:41 the Western text family is the one which preserves “anger”. The weight, then, of external evidence falls towards a reading of “compassion” over “anger”. But there is more to consider.

Internal Evidence

The next thing to consider is internal evidence. This is where we get to put on our Scooby-Doo hats and do a bit of detective work. Here we ask questions of the text. What would have been more likely to be changed by a scribe? What reading is most consistent with the author?

Which translation makes you the most comfortable? A Jesus who responds to a leper with anger or a Jesus who responds to a leper with compassion? It’s kind of hard to imagine where a scribe would have changed the text to make Jesus angry, but it’s understandable how he would make him compassionate. Douglas Moo gives the defense of the NIV’s choice:

Simply because of a basic principle of textual criticism: prefer the reading that can best explain the others. In other words, we have to ask his question: as scribes copied the Gospel of Mark over the centuries, would they have been more likely to put the Greek word for ‘anger’ in place of the one for ‘compassion’? Or the reverse? The answer is clear: they would have been far more likely to substitute ‘compassion’ for ‘anger.’

There is also another line of internal evidence in favor of “anger” as the correct reading. When Matthew and Luke tell the story of this leper they do not record any emotion on the part of Jesus. Not compassion, not anger. In fact both Matthew and Luke refrain from having Jesus angry. But Mark doesn’t. Mark is more comfortable with orgistheis. But in the places where Mark does mention Jesus’ compassion—guess what happens? Matthew and Luke preserve the emotion of Jesus. Is the absence of emotion here in Matthew and Luke evidence that Mark’s original was “anger”?

Furthermore, look at the language and emotion Jesus uses throughout this passage. The words used in 1:43 are strong words often used of Jesus’ action of casting out demons. Verse 43 actually fits better with Jesus’ anger than his compassion/pity.

There is some pushback when it comes to internal evidence. One strong piece is that there are other places in Mark where Jesus is presented as angry and these are not changed. Why would a copyists change the words in 1:41 but not in the other places? Secondly, it’s possible that a scribe was too strongly connecting 1:43 to 1:41 and thus made an error. Philip Comfort argues somewhat persuasively:

But we must remember that the scribe who wrote ‘being indignant’ was the scribe of D (who is often followed by ita d). This scribe (or a predecessor) was a literary editor who had a propensity for making significant changes in the text. At this point he may have decided to make Jesus angry with the leper for wanting a miracle—in keeping with the tone of voice Jesus used in 1:43 when he sternly warned the leper. But this was not a warning about seeking a miracle; it was a warning about keeping the miracle a secret so as to protect Jesus’ identity.”

These arguments need to be considered but on the whole, the most convincing internal evidence is in favor of an “anger” reading. So what do you do when internal evidence argues with external evidence?

Conclusion

I have preached this passage before and I did not go down this path. I focused in on Jesus’ compassionate response to the leper. And I still think the fact that Jesus touched the untouchable speaks to the tender care of Jesus. But if I preached this passage today I think I’d also mention this “angry” alternative.

Why would Jesus be angry with the leper? Perhaps it was his lack of faith. That’s definitely a possibility. A very early commentator (Tatian) had this to say:

If you are willing, you can cleanse me. The formula is one of petition and the word is one of fear. That you are able to I know, but whether you are willing, I am not certain.’ Therefore, our Lord showed him two things in response to this double [attitude]: reproof through his anger, and mercy through his healing […] [The Lord] was angry with regard to this line of reasoning and so [he ordered] secondly, ‘Go show yourself to the priests, and fulfill that Law which you are despising.’ […] It is also said that [the Lord] was not angry with him, but with his leprosy”

I think there is also something to be said for Jesus’ anger at what has become of His beautiful creation. Anger should be a response to leprosy and anything else that destroys humanity. I like how James Edwards says this, “As though the leprosy were dispelled by holy wrath, Mark declares, ‘Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cured.’”

Whether Jesus was moved by compassion or anger the point remains. He lovingly restored that which was broken. In one sense anger is a proper response to brokenness—in another sense compassion is the most fitting response. I wonder if the Lord left us this little variant so that we’d have to wrestle with this balance.

A Strategy for Pastoring in Divided Days

Mike Leake

photo-1598432405152-c0a42a5a3a8aImagine that you live in a day and age filled with a multitude of opinions and very much heat. Anger abounds. Society is at an unrest. There are many celebrities—faces of different movements—attempting to move the world in their particular direction. The gospel at times shines brightly through these figures at other times it is overshadowed. The church sees both success and is overcome by a party spirit and division.

No, I haven’t just described for you Christian Twitter. Nor am I trying to describe your own local church setting. I’m describing for you the religious landscape of the late 1700s. So many differing opinions in a changing age. Men like these:

Thomas Scott. A Socinian who mocked evangelical religion.

John Campbell. An influential philanthropist but a religious doubter.

William Wilberforce. A young man given over to politics but considering leaving that field and his friends to become more serious about religion.

John Ryland, Jr. A passionate young minister giving his energies to arguing with Arminians and a lust for celebrity. A modern day “cage-stage Calvinist”. 

Charles Simeon. A young pastor, 23, who was just given a charge of an influential church.

The Common Bond

How would you minister to such a diverse group of people? If you were planted in a location and given no small influence on the lives of each of these men, what would you do? Would you enter into controversy? Would you join the shouting? Would you discuss each branch of division and try to show error? Or would you have a different strategy?

There is one man who ties these stories together? John Newton. Many of them were influenced by Newton while he was at London (Scott was during his Olney stay). There was much diversity—and with it arguing—in the London of the late 1700s. Even in the group mentioned above some were Baptists, some Anglican, some were even part of heretical groups. All with passionate beliefs.

When Newton arrived in London he found a congregation that was strategically positioned among the wealthy of the city. Yet, their evangelical interests were stale. Newton set his eyes upon the poor—and really upon anyone who wanted to hear the gospel. As Moule observed, Newton “attracted the poor at once, and, more gradually, the wealthier people.” Eventually his congregation was filled with people of all theological and economic backgrounds. As he said they were made up of “various discordant parties…”

So what would Newton do? How would he preach? How would he influence his society through personal and public correspondence? This was his strategy:

“I say little to my hearers of the things wherein they differ, but aim to lead them all to aa growing and more experimental knowledge of the Son of God and life of faith in him.” Bull, 246

He seldom entered into the great controversies of his day. He just loved people and preached Jesus. When so many around him were talking about threats to the gospel, when the multitude were battling for position and to have their voice heard, when countless ministers had their whole ministries wrapped up in engaging controversy, John Newton stood firm in his resolve to “love men at first sight”. He loved people. He preached. Jesus.

Did it work?

You tell me.

Thomas Scott. Evangelical pastor who wrote one of the better apologetics of the 18th century.

John Campbell. Firm in his faith, gave much of his resources to evangelical causes to spread the gospel.

William Wilberforce. Known for his tenacious campaign to abolish the English Slave Trade.

John Ryland, Jr. Pastored two of the most prominent Baptist churches in England. Yet remains a little known, humble servant, who slowly plodded along as a faithful pastor of integrity.

Charles Simeon. Stayed at his church for 53 years, maintained his zeal, and was instrumental in founding the church mission society.

There are many other names which we could add to this list. Newton’s resolve to love transformed society. It even was instrumental in upending the abominable slave trade.

Love people of all parties. Preach Jesus to all parties. And just keep doing that humbly and lovingly over and over again. It’s a good strategy and we’d do well to follow it.

—

Photo source: here

PS: I think it’s important to mention that Newton’s strategy of “just preaching Jesus” was a far cry from how we hear that today. Today it often means don’t get involved in issues of justice but keep your hands clean. That most certainly wasn’t Newton’s strategy. He got his hands dirty but it wasn’t from slinging mud—it was from loving fellow-image bearers.

About Those Sparrows

Mike Leake

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Why should I feel discouraged,
Why should the shadows come,
Why should my heart be lonely,
And long for heaven, heaven and home,
When, when Jesus is my portion,
My constant Friend is He;
Oh, oh-oh, his eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watched, watched it over me.

His eye is on the sparrow. Such a comforting truth, isn’t it?

The song finds it inspiration from both Psalm 32:8 and Matthew 6:26. (There is likely a bit of Matthew 10:29-31 thrown in there as well). Sparrows aren’t worth much to us but they aren’t forgotten by God. And his eye is upon us just as it is upon the sparrow. That’s comforting…but let’s think a little more about these sparrows.

Five sparrows. Two pennies. That’s not very valuable. And sparrows aren’t very valuable to humans, especially in the first century. They bought them. Ate them. Sacrificed them.

Five sparrows. Two pennies. Bought, crushed, ground into stew, discarded, their life snuffed out just like that. Not forgotten by God. If God “remembered the sparrow”…if his eye was on the sparrow wouldn’t they not be bought and sold like this?

His Eye On the Crushed Sparrow

I was confronted with this question while preaching through Luke recently. What is Jesus doing here? It’s in the context of the Pharisees plotting murder and a trampling crowd. That is the background to these words in Luke 12. 

So place yourself as an observer in the marketplace. You’ve been told that these sparrows have a powerful protector. And you see them sold at a going rate of five for a couple pennies. Then they are crushed, discarded, treated as worthless. What do you think of their powerful protector?

I sure hope he isn’t “watching over me”.

Five sparrows. Two pennies. Not forgotten by God. Discarded into the calloused earth.

Now, what if I told you that God sent His very own Son to this same calloused earth. And he made it obvious that He was His Son…and told people all about Him…and spoke of the truth…and attested to who He was…and through him did miracles, wonders, and signs..

But then…

“this man was handed over to you…” (Acts 2:23a)

This sparrow was put on the marketplace. Put into the hands of men, mocked, scorned, tossed aside as nothing. And in the hands of wicked men he was “put to death by being nailed to a cross”.

What do you say of His protector? What do you say of His Father?

A casual observer might say, ”where is this man’s father? Where is the one who is supposed to care for him? Where is the one who is supposed to be watching out for him? He’s discarded…he’s tossed aside like a filthy rag…he’s barely recognized as human. What value is this Nazarene?”

Five sparrows. Two pennies. Not forgotten by God.

And what do we make of those who follow this Nazarene? Those who are trampled by the crowds, pursued by religious leaders. Those who are often truth-tellers who get unplugged for trying to shine the light upon the callousness of earth in the hopes of somehow unraveling its now forgotten beauty. People of integrity. Discarded. Persecuted. Slandered. Beaten. Mocked.

The Message From the Discarded Sparrow

This is the message that Jesus is imparting to his disciples with crowds approaching and Pharisees threatening. They will be put into the hands of wickedness. They will fall to the ground. But not apart from God’s care. Not apart from God’s plan.

When you feel discarded by humanity (or you are discarded by humanity) you can easily adopt their assessment. When their eyes are measuring you up and you can see their sum—and they’ve concluded you are worthless, it’s easy to feel less than a penny. But Jesus’ statement of not being forgotten by God is incredibly comforting. Because if His eye is upon you then you have His delight.

Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. –Luke 12:32

Five sparrows. Two pennies. Not Forgotten by God. Eternal joy.

So don’t fear those who can only kill your body. That is Jesus’ conclusion. They don’t understand discarded sparrows. They don’t view the world rightly. But the Father does. And He has not forgotten you. You will not fall to the ground apart from His care. He is making all things right. You may be discarded by people but you will never be forgotten by God. He will not overlook you.

If you don’t believe me ask that God who was once on that middle cross—mocked, scorned, discarded, of less value than a sparrow in the marketplace. But not forgotten by God. And now sitting at the right hand of the Father and bidding us to come. He’ll tell you a sparrow’s real worth.

—

Photo source: here

The Relationship Between Mission and Solitude

Mike Leake

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And rising very early in the morning, while it was still dark, he departed and went out to a desolate place, and there he prayed. –Mark 1:35

If Mark wanted to tell us that Jesus got up early to pray he could have done it a bit more simply. But instead he gives us a bit of a clunky sentence which is stacked with four verbs: rising, depart, went out, prayed. Mark wants to tell us more than just Jesus’ habit of praying early in the morning.

Rising. I don’t like getting up early. I especially do not like to get up very early as the text says. Jesus was fully human. He needed sleep. The day before this little tidbit was an action packed and likely exhausting day. Communion with the Father is more important than his own need for sleep.

Departed. While on earth, every day that Jesus went to bed he did so with a mass of humanity, within his proximity, that were not healed. That’s a somewhat tough pill to swallow. But there is also some level of comfort in this for our own lives and ministries. There will always be things left undone. And this departing into the wilderness shows us as well that communion with the Father is more important than even others need for healing.

Went out. Jesus did not retreat into a Netflix binge watch. He retread from the crowds into the wilderness. It’s the place of jackals, the very abode where we saw the Spirit drive him and where he was tested by the enemy. The wilderness is a place where we are away from community. That basic human need to be around others. But here as well communion with the Father is more important than even our need for community.

And prayed. This was a non-negotiable for Jesus. I think of all the times in my life when I’ve tabled my time of prayer to attend to my own needs, the needs of others, or even because I feel as if my greatest need is community. All of these things are good—and necessary in their own place. But Jesus models for us the absolute necessity of prayer.

I think James Edwards, in his excellent commentary on Mark says it well:

The work of the Son of God is both an inward and an outward work. Jesus cannot extend himself outward in compassion without first attending to the source of his mission and purpose with the Father; and, conversely, his oneness with the Father compels him outward in mission. The significance of Jesus’ ministry consists not simply in what he does for humanity, but equally in who he is in relation to the Father. Jesus is, according to Mark’s narrative, neither contemplative ascetic nor social activist. He does not promote an agenda but derives a ministry from a relationship with the Father. He is the Son, one in being with the Father; and the Servant, one in purpose with his will.

Edwards, J. R. (2002). The Gospel according to Mark (p. 66). Eerdmans; Apollos.

I think Edwards is correct because as soon as the disciples found Jesus, he immediately returns to the mission of preaching the gospel. Solitude with the Father propels us into mission, but mission cannot survive without that solitude.

If my prayer time doesn’t push me into mission it’s possible that it hasn’t truly been communion with the Father. Likewise, if the exhaustion of the mission doesn’t necessitate being alone with the Father, it is possible that the mission is being driven by the wrong fuel.