Shock and Silence
“And they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” — Mark 16:8
📖 Textual Focus:
Καὶ ἐξελθοῦσαι ἔφυγον ἀπὸ τοῦ μνημείου· εἶχεν γὰρ αὐτὰς τρόμος καὶ ἔκστασις· καὶ οὐδενὶ οὐδὲν εἶπαν· ἐφοβοῦντο γάρ.
🔍 I. The Gospel of Holy Fear
The Gospel according to Mark, the first and rawest of the four, has three endings.
The short ending does not resolve.
It halts.
But are the St. Catherine’s Sinaiticus and Petrine Vaticanus cutoffs at Mark 16:8 not a misprint, an error? Or, are they a a thunderclap? That is, rhetoric, as others suggest?
The women flee from the tomb.
They say nothing.
They are afraid.
In the Greek, it is even more jarring:
Parataxis: no subordinate clauses, no smoothing conjunctions.
Historic present: the verbs are alive, immediate.
Apostolic rupture: there is no appearance of the risen Christ.
The last word?
“For they were afraid.”
The last sound?
Silence. “This is the Gospel of the LORD!” (?)
🧠 II. Why End There?
This seems just wrong. You’re not alone to think so. Multiple early church entries agree.
But the historiography of Mark is now cut. It will always have three endings, no matter what your footnotes say. And the short ending, the one that worries everyone, masks the real problem:
The fear of the first witnesses was not uncertainty. It is not rank unbelief.
It is the proper human response to resurrection: MIND BLOWN. Total shock. Survival-mechanic-click-whir and “how did … wait … did that just happen?”
Because this is not a myth.
This is not a philosophy.
This is God breaking into this good earth. It is no joke, no game, no play acting.
The women tremble because the world has changed, and they are the first to realize it.
✝️ III. The Cross Was Enough
Mark’s Gospel is not written to end the story.
It is written to start the Church. The silence of the women is the baton passed to the reader.
Every miracle, every healing, every storm calmed and demon cast out—Mark drives them all toward one thing:
“Truly, this man was the Son of God.” (Mark 15:39)
And that is said not by a disciple,
but by a Roman executioner.
Mark’s Gospel is not a testimony of triumph, but of confession under the Cross.
The silence at the tomb echoes the earthquake at the cross:
“The curtain was torn…”
And, it would seem to some, nothing more needs to be said. He has spoken through death.
Now, His word is now in your mouth.
“Go into Galilee. There you will see Him.”
You, reader, are now on the page.
A History of Echoes
“And after these things, Jesus Himself sent out through them, from east to west, the sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal salvation. Amen.”
— Shorter Ending of Mark
📖 I. The Problem that Proves Itself
If Mark 16:8 was "incomplete," then why do we have not one, but two distinct attempts to "complete" it?
The Longer Ending (16:9–20): a narrative extension with signs, appearances, and a commission.
The Shorter Ending: a liturgical summary pointing to apostolic mission from “east to west.”
Neither claims to be Mark.
But both react to the silence that he left behind.
That fact alone tells us something irrefutable:
The Church knew the Gospel ended at verse 8.
And the Church couldn’t bear the silence.
📚 II. The Longer Addition/Edition (Mark 16:9–20)
This passage is:
Present in the majority of later Greek manuscripts
Included in early Latin, Syriac, and Gothic traditions
Cited by Irenaeus as early as the 2nd century
But the Greek shifts:
Vocabulary changes (e.g., βεβαιόω, συνεργέω, θεάομαι—absent from earlier Mark)
Participles multiply where Mark normally drives action
Tone becomes apostolic proclamation, not narrative movement
It contains:
Appearances of Christ (Mary Magdalene, the two on the road, the eleven)
Signs that follow believers (tongues, serpents, poison, healings)
A global mission charge
This is not Mark’s pen—it’s a catechist’s voice, meant to assure the Church in the face of persecution, heresy, and fear.
🕊️ III. The Shorter Addition/Edition
Found in:
Codex Bobiensis
A few early Latin manuscripts
It reads like a liturgical footer:
“They reported to those around Peter all that had been told them. And after that, Jesus himself sent out through them, from east to west, the sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal salvation.”
This is:
Theological summary, not narrative continuation
Contains no resurrection appearances
Exalts Petrine authority (“those around Peter”)
Speaks in unMarkan Greek: abstract, polished, spatially expansive
Its presence proves that some early communities:
Didn’t know (or didn’t accept) the Longer Ending
Still felt compelled to say something after the women’s silence
This is not Gospel as proclamation—it is Gospel as doxology.
🧠 IV. Two Endings = One Silence
The two endings tell us:
There is precedent for copies ending at 16:8 beyond Sinaiticus and Vaticanus
The early Church honored this—but also wrestled with it
They sought to echo, not to usurp
Each ending is an echo in a different key:
The Longer Ending: catechetical, victorious, defensive
The Shorter Ending: liturgical, doxological, Petrine
Both are products of the early Church, not the Evangelist.
Both speak to their time, not from the tomb.
🔍 V. Why Did These Endings Arise?
Because the original was preserved.
And the original was a challenge, not a conclusion.
The silence at the end of verse 8 said:
“He is not here. He has risen. Go.”
But by the 2nd century, Christians faced:
Rising heresies (Gnosticism)
Political pressure (martyrdom)
Doctrinal uncertainty (Christology, mission, signs)
And so they wrote—not falsely, but pastorally.
They wrote for courage, for clarity, for catechesis.
✝️ VI. What the Two Endings Actually Prove
They do not prove fraud.
They do not prove contradiction.
They prove this:
That Mark’s Gospel cut so deep into the apostolic memory, its silence could not be ignored. And the Church would rather echo it than pretend it did not wound them with its unfinished call. The Gospel is not a fairy tale. It’s a voice in the wilderness.
Signs of the Second Century Soul
Things the Bible Doesn’t Talk Much About
“These signs will accompany those who believe...” — Mark 16:17
📖 I. The Age That Needed Wonders
By the time the ink dried on the first gospel manuscripts, the apostolic world had begun to fade.
The generation who had seen Jesus, or walked with those who had, were dying.
The Church entered an age of:
Persecution
Doctrinal fragmentation
Pagan enchantment
And in that age, assurance became a theological priority.
The Gnostics offered hidden knowledge.
The pagans offered mystical powers.
The Jews clung to the temple past.
What did the Christian catechist offer the neophyte?
“Christ is risen.”
“He sends you out.”
“You may suffer. But He is with you—even in signs.”
This is the world that gave us Mark 16:9–20.
🧠 II. The Psychological Need Behind the Signs
Each sign in Mark 16:17–18 answers a fear:
Sign
Underlying Fear
Casting out demons
Demonic possession, spiritual vulnerability? Speaking in new tongues. Cultural isolation, persecution in foreign lands? Picking up snakes. Natural threats, wilderness missions? Drinking poison without harm. Betrayal, sorcery, assassination? Laying hands on the sick.
Suffering, plague, helplessness: these are not curiosities—they are catechetical comforts. The early Christian did not expect wealth or safety. He expected trial.
So he was given assurance that:
God would still act.
The name of Jesus still had power.
The believer was not abandoned.
🗝️ III. Not Normative—But Testifying/”Confessional”
None of these signs are mandated in the rest of the New Testament epistles.
Paul, Peter, James, John—none preach “signs will follow you.”
Instead:
James teaches healing through prayer and confession (James 5:14–15)
Paul acknowledges tongues and healings, but subordinates them to love and order (1 Cor. 13–14)
Peter proclaims Christ crucified and risen, not wonders (1 Pet. 1:3)
So what are the signs?
They are the testimonies of what did happen.
They confirm what has already been believed.
“The Lord worked with them and confirmed the message by accompanying signs.” (Mark 16:20)
The signs are not the message. They are servants of the message. They point to the author of the message. They vindicate the insurmountable authenticity of the historical Jesus as Messiah, King and Avatar/Face/Mediator of God.
🔥 IV. Paul’s Viper and the Power to Endure
In Acts 28:
Paul is bitten by a viper on Malta.
He shakes it off.
The people expect him to die.
He does not.
This is the closest narrative match to Mark 16:18.
And yet:
Paul never tells anyone to “handle snakes.”
He never boasts of it.
He boasts in weakness, not in wonders (2 Cor. 12:9).
So this sign, too, is a divine accommodation for a moment.
It is not a doctrine.
It is not a rite.
It is a signal, not a sacrament.
💡 V. The Signs and the Cross
The problem with these signs is not their possibility.
It is their centrality—when they become the core of the faith, they obscure the Cross.
The Christian is not the one who walks through fire untouched.
The Christian is the one who walks through fire, and still confesses Christ.
That is why:
Hebrews speaks of endurance, not signs
Philippians exalts Christ’s humiliation, not your invincibility
James speaks of steadfastness, not spectacle
We are called not to prove Jesus true by surviving snakebites,
but to confess Him true even if the snake bites us to death.
📦 The Signs Belong to a Moment, Not the Message
Mark 16:9–20 reads like an apologetic for the first generation after the Apostles, when the Church needed to say:
“Yes, He is risen.”
“Yes, He still acts.”
“Yes, you will be kept.”
But this was not doctrine, and it was not enduring liturgy.
It was courage for the storm,
not the compass for the Church.
Tongues as Judgment on Ecstasy
“For with stammering lips and another tongue He will speak to this people...” — Isaiah 28:11
📖 I. The Fanatics’ Misread
In many modern Christian contexts, “speaking in tongues” is cast as:
An ecstatic, personal experience
A sign of spiritual vitality
A gift to be pursued, even required
But this is not how Scripture frames the phenomenon in its prophetic and apostolic foundations.
If we begin with the Old Testament, particularly Isaiah and Zechariah, we find a very different starting point:
Tongues are a sign—not of blessing, but of judgment.
📜 II. Isaiah 28: The First Prophetic Witness
“For with stammering lips and another tongue He will speak to this people, to whom He said, ‘This is the rest…’ Yet they would not hear.” — Isaiah 28:11–12
Context:
Israel is rejecting God’s Word
God responds by promising to speak to them through foreign tongues
But this speech will not bring comfort—it will bring confusion
The result is hardening, not healing
Key Insight:
The tongues are a punishment, a final sign of alienation from covenant clarity.
This is Babel in reverse—not God confusing the nations, but God confusing His own unfaithful people.
🧱 III. Zechariah and the Cutting Off of Speech
Zechariah 14 speaks of plagues and division among nations, and implicitly suggests disunity in speech as a sign of curse:
Nations will no longer speak with one voice
God’s name will remain singular, but the nations will be scattered
Though the reference to tongues is not explicit, the prophetic pattern stands:
When the covenant is violated, language fractures
The clear Word becomes foreign
Understanding is withdrawn as judgment
🔁 IV. Acts 2: Pentecost is Not New—It’s Prophetic Fulfillment
“We hear them telling in our own tongues the mighty works of God…” — Acts 2:11
The miracle at Pentecost is not ecstatic speech.
It is foreign-language proclamation.
The “new tongues” are only new to the speakers, not to the hearers.
They are:
Known languages
Proclaimed clearly
Understood by people from every nation
This is not a sign for the Church.
It is a sign to Israel—a fulfillment of Isaiah’s judgment.
“You would not hear Me in Hebrew. Now I will speak to you in Parthian, Median, Elamite... and you will still refuse to believe.”
This is why Peter immediately turns the moment into a call to repentance (Acts 2:14–41).
The tongues are not the goal.
They are the alarm.
🧠 V. Paul’s Theology: Tongues Harden the Hearers
“In the Law it is written, ‘By people of strange tongues… I will speak to this people, and even then they will not listen to me.’ Thus, tongues are a sign not for believers but for unbelievers…” — 1 Corinthians 14:21–22
Paul quotes Isaiah 28 directly.
He does not say:
Tongues are an intimate gift
Tongues edify the Church
Tongues mark advanced faith
Instead, he says:
They are for unbelievers
They are a sign of God speaking in judgment
And they are ultimately unhelpful without interpretation
For Paul, tongues are a warning, not a proof.
🚫 VI. “New Tongues” in Mark 16:17 Reexamined
“…they will speak in new tongues…” — Mark 16:17
The Greek phrase:
γλώσσαις καιναῖς = “in fresh/renewed tongues”
Not invents, but acquires—it means new to the speaker, not to the world
This matches:
The Acts 2 event (foreign tongues, not gibberish)
The Isaiah 28 expectation (judgment, not joy)
And it reframes the sign not as a badge of spirituality, but as a marker of covenant transition.
Israel has rejected.
The nations now hear.
The tongues mark the passing of the covenant torch.
✝️ VII. The Gospel is Not a Language Trick
Jesus said: “My sheep hear my voice.” (John 10:27)
The Church is built not on ecstatic signs, but on the spoken Word of Christ:
In whatever tongue
Preached by whatever mouth
Understood by the Spirit alone
Tongues, when given, were given to warn and to witness.
Not to perform.
Not to prove.
They were a bell, not a standard.
📦 Tongues Are for Judgment, Not Devotion
Isaiah shows tongues as a sign of rejection.
Zechariah frames language dispersion as part of divine discipline.
Acts 2 fulfills the prophecy—foreign speech for a hardened nation.
Paul warns: tongues without understanding profit nothing.
Mark 16:17 must be read through the prophetic lens, not the charismatic one.
The new tongue is not for you to show.
It is for them to know: the old covenant is over.
And the stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.
Poison Alone: The Weight of What Isn’t There
“…and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them.” — Mark 16:18
⚖️ I. What the Verse Says — and Doesn’t Say
Among the “signs” promised in Mark 16:17–18, one stands out not for what it describes, but for what it doesn’t:
“…if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them…”
This act:
Has no precedent in Scripture
Is not reported in Acts
Is not commended in the Epistles
Is never connected to the life of Jesus
Appears nowhere else as a sign or command
It is utterly alone in the New Testament.
And that loneliness matters.
🧪 II. Absence as Argument
In biblical theology, absence is often meaningful:
The absence of rain was a sign of judgment
The absence of a king showed the need for Messiah
The absence of leaven marked purity in the Passover
Here, we find the absence of precedent.
No prophet drinks poison.
No apostle blesses it.
No martyr survives it.
This is not a pattern, but a postscript.
🕊️ III. Comparing the Signs
Let’s briefly contrast this with the other signs in Mark 16:
This sign stands alone—a doctrinal orphan.
🧠 IV. The Origin of the Poison Clause?
So where did this phrase come from?
Possibilities:
A real event—a saint (perhaps unknown to us) survived poisoning.
Oral traditions or local martyrdom legends may have existed.
But the NT authors never felt compelled to mention it.
A metaphor misunderstood—“drinking death” as a symbol of martyrdom.
Like Christ’s cup in Gethsemane (Matt 26:39)
Like Paul’s “poured out” life (2 Tim 4:6)
This would make the promise about spiritual endurance, not immunity.
A catechetical exaggeration—reflecting an over-literalization of the miraculous.
A scribe or teacher, attempting to encourage boldness, may have inserted the phrase with good intent—but lacking scriptural foundation.
The poison clause is not heresy.
But it may be homiletic, not apostolic.
🔥 V. Paul Did Not Drink Poison
The only remotely similar event is:
Acts 28: Paul is bitten by a viper, but does not die.
This serpent sign became a legend.
But even here, Paul:
Does not invite the bite.
Does not boast in surviving.
Does not teach others to do the same.
He simply shakes it off and continues preaching Christ.
There is no parallel with drinking poison—none.
⛪ VI. Historical Response: The Church’s Silence
Unlike other signs (tongues, exorcisms, healings), the Church Fathers:
Do not preach this
Do not defend this
Do not recommend this
Even Irenaeus, who loves miracle stories, is silent here. Tertullian, Origen, Athanasius—none pick it up. The Church, in her wisdom, left this clause unused.
🧩 VII. So Why Is It There?
To early second-century believers:
Persecution was rampant.
Poisoning of bishops and teachers was a real fear.
Treachery was possible in the chalice and in the feast.
This line, then, comforts, even if it does not instruct.
It says:
“God sees even the unseen death.”
“Christ’s life is not snuffed out by secret plots.”
“You are safe, even if they try to kill you.”
In this way, it functions not as command, but as consolation, an (errant?) mutual consolation and consolidation of the brethren.
✝️ VIII. The Only Cup That Matters
Ultimately, Jesus did drink a cup:
“Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me…” (Matt 26:39)
This is the poison of sin.
The chalice of wrath.
He drank it to the dregs, so we would never fear our cup again.
So whether or not you drink poison,
He has already taken your death into Himself.
📦 Let the Deadly Cup Pass
Mark 16’s poison promise is not echoed elsewhere.
It likely reflects a pastoral hope, not a doctrinal command.
It does not negate faith—but neither should it form our practice.
Better to heed the words of Christ:
“Do not put the Lord your God to the test.” (Matt 4:7)
And so, the poison line is not a scandal.
It is a whisper from a frightened Church,
clinging to the resurrection as its antidote.
The Glory of the Open Ending
“And they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” — Mark 16:8
⛓️ I. Where Tru Mark Leaves Us — and Why
The oldest and most reliable manuscripts of the Gospel of Mark end not with resurrection appearances, but with terror and silence:
“Trembling and astonishment had seized them… they fled… and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” — Mark 16:8
There is no ascension.
No “Great Commission.”
No appearance of the risen Lord.
Only the empty tomb, and the fear of the first witnesses.
And this is not a mistake.
It is a masterpiece that inspired the first communal confessions of the early church, predating Nicea by hundreds of years as a testimony and aligning well with the formation of the old “Roman Symbol” (proto-Apostles’ Creed).
🎭 II. The Literary Genius of an Empty Stage
Mark’s Gospel ends like a curtain dropped mid-scene:
The audience is left in shock.
The final words hang in the air.
The question is forced:
“Will you believe?”
It’s as if Mark has written:
“You know the story.
What now?”
The whisper of awe: the call of awakening.
🔁 III. Thematic Closure Without Narrative Closure
Mark’s Gospel begins:
“The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” (1:1)
It ends with:
“…they said nothing… for they were afraid.” (16:8)
In between is a story of:
Misunderstood power
Hidden glory
A Messiah who conquers by dying
The poetry is complete:
Jesus has risen.
And the witnesses… are speechless.
✝️ IV. The Rhetorical Function of the Silence
The silence at the end is not denial.
It is provocation.
It confronts YOU:
You know the tomb is empty.
You know that there is more to the story.
What will you say once the adrenaline wears off?
This is not a literary failure. This is divine design that invites the Church to believe we are the rest of the story.
🕊️ V. Apostolic Faith Does Not Fear Ambiguity
Early Christian scribes and communities wrestled with this ending.
Some added the shorter epilogue.
Some added the longer one.
But the Church did not suppress the silence.
She preserved it—knowing that ambiguity is not error.
Not all truths are finished in ink.
Some are finished in blood.
Others, in faith.
There is no “Go, therefore, and make disciples…” in Mark.
But there is this:
“He is not here. He is risen. Go, tell…” — Mark 16:6–7
And there is you, here, hearing it again.
Mark’s Gospel ends without Jesus being seen, so that: You will not seek Him in appearances. You will hear His Word and believe. Just like Peter did. Just like you have before. Just like many others will after you, and, even, at your word.
Mark’s pen stops at fear, but the Spirit carries the story forward. The last word is not silence. The last word is faith. Not because the text concludes, but because the Christ reigns. He who was crucified is not dead. He is going ahead of you. Just as He said.
Addendum that is a pretty substantial argument on its own:
Greek Readers’ Note: The section beginning at Mark 16:9 is immediately marked by a grammatical shift that reads unlike the rest of the Gospel.
Participial chains (“having arisen… having appeared… going… proclaiming…”) dominate the flow.
These are not Mark's usual tools. Earlier chapters use direct narrative action and the famously terse εὐθὺς(“immediately”) style.
The Gospel prior to verse 9 features few participial strings, often only one or two per sentence, never as a cascade.
In contrast:
Mark 16:9–10: “Having arisen… having appeared… she, going, proclaimed…” — a triple chain of participles, more Pauline in rhythm than Petrine.
This is not trivial. Stylometry tells stories:
Mark’s core style is sharp, abrupt, active.
The longer ending is reflective, embellished, doxological.
This lends weight to the view that 16:9–20 is a gloss, a theological epilogue penned not to deceive, but to fill what some perceived as a void.
That void, however, was intentional—as the silence of 16:8 shows.
Pastor Fisk, You make great points and certainly make cogent the Critical Text. But, as a new Lutheran wondering what to do with Dr. Luther putting Mark 16:16 as the scriptural backup to the second point in the Small Catechism, I preferred to believe that Mark 16:9-20 is apostolic. How do you explain this to confirmands?