Dear Mark (If I may),
I have long wanted the possibility of conversation with you and this letter is the closest that I can manage. I am hoping for a response of some kind!
Since my teenage years, I have been a reader of your work, that work which has long been referred to as the Gospel of Mark. Here, then, is my first problem: I am not clear as to whom I am writing! Are you a solitary writer perhaps? One of a group? Perhaps the scribe of your local synagogue? At some point, someone gave your work the name ‘Mark’ – and, for simplicity, that is how I shall address you, I hope you understand.
I write for several reasons. In part, because I am convinced that there is more that I can gain from what you have written, than others have so far read. Further, and this is something which I am sure that you and I share: that in the act of writing we find, or create, what we hold to be the case. The question of whether we find what we hold to be the case, or create it, I would like to leave on one side for the time being – and come back to it later.
You and I both know from our experience of writing about our cultures, about writing of differing groups and telling of the stories of the past, that we fail to say precisely what we wish to say – what we wish to say seems ever elusive. I think that I know what it is that I want to say, and yet I do not seem to be able to say it! That is one level of my problem – imagine what it is like when there are several of us trying to reach agreement on what it is that we would like to be doing in a particular situation: each knowing what he or she wants and yet unable to say, precisely, what it is. At its best, we call this important task conversation.
You wrote of the last year or so of the life of Joshua ben Joseph of Nazareth – I’ll use the Greek name you gave him, Jesus. You describe him as concerned with something which has often been termed the ‘kingdom of God’ – or the ‘realm of God’. This issue, realm or kingdom is a good example of the difficulties of saying what one intends. When you wrote of it, did you intend to say (a) that this realm was in the immediate future (b) that it was already present and that we were invited simply to step into it or (c) that by acting differently we would thereby be creating the new realm? Part of the problem, as I see it, is the question of whether the idea of the kingdom/realm of God is to be taken literally or metaphorically, whether you are writing in literal or figurative language. This is something that I would like to pursue on another occasion.
Just those three possibilities illustrate some of the difficulties we have – especially when trying to write of something new. Perhaps your colleagues had differing experiences and would speak of them in different ways and you wanted to allow for their legitimate viewpoints?
If I were to try to write about this kingdom/realm for my friend who is unfamiliar with the idea, I would face a number of difficulties. If I understand it as a realm, what are its boundaries, if any? What are the important features? Have I the use of an adequate vocabulary to describe it: if I speak of a realm with boundaries, have I introduced a metaphor which is useful, or perhaps misleading? How might I present the issue in such a way that my friend can grasp what I am hoping he will? I suspect that my writing will be more figurative than literal.
Arguing from my experience, I wonder how I should be understanding what you wrote. Which is, of course, exactly where I started this letter! I shall write again, shortly. In the meantime, I am hoping for some response.
I remain, an enquiring reader,
David.
David Lambourn is a member of the Norfolk SOF group and is willing to be contacted at: davidlambourn@mac.com