I want to comment on your analysis of Mark 10:17–18—especially the dialogue between Jesus and the rich man. The reading you propose is interesting, but I think it may create a dichotomy that the evangelist himself does not establish.
First, it is possible that Jesus’ statement is not a correction, but a question. When he asks, “Why do you call me good?” he may be inviting the interlocutor (and the reader) to reflect on the weight of what has just been said. In Mark, Jesus frequently leads people to perceive his true identity through destabilizing questions. In this case, the point may not be “do not call me good,” but rather, “do you understand what you are saying by calling me that?”
I also find problematic the assumption that the episodes of Jesus’ humility and service negate his divinity. This creates a modern false dichotomy between humility and divinity. In early Christian theology—and even in echoes present in Mark—humility is precisely an expression of divine character. The Son of Man who serves and gives his life (Mark 10:45) manifests divine power through love and self-giving, not by denying his nature. Although the logic of Jesus being baptized “for the forgiveness of sins,” implying that he saw himself as a sinner, is plausible, it seems to me that Mark minimizes this and presents Jesus’ baptism more as an anointing or commissioning for his mission.
Finally, regarding the danger of anachronism, I agree that we cannot read Mark as if he possessed the later Trinitarian vocabulary. But this point also works in the opposite direction: precisely because Mark did not have concepts such as “adoptionism,” “modalism,” or “Trinity,” one cannot conclude that his distinction between God and Jesus implies a denial of divinity. The evangelist may have been operating within an expanded Jewish monotheism, still without systematic language to express the relationship between the Father and the Son. He avoids conflating the divine persons, but does not necessarily exclude Jesus from the sphere of divine identity.
Thus, Mark 10:18 seems more part of the narrative tension that characterizes the gospel: Jesus is distinct from the Father, yet acts and speaks with God’s authority. The question “Why do you call me good?” invites the reader to recognize this tension and to reflect: if only God is good, and Jesus is called good, what does this reveal about who He is?
I don’t want to get too into the weeds on this at the moment, but I’m unconvinced by any exegesis of Mark that maintains Jesus was thought of as a being equal in any way to God. Your reading of Jesus’s question to the rich man seems strained and the narrative clues seem to work against it. No one in the story seems to grasp this subtle nod to divinity, the man drops “good” when he addresses Jesus again, and the entire point of the narrative is about the danger of riches and the cost of discipleship. If Mark had intended to communicate in this scene a story about Jesus’s divinity, he did a poor job.
Regarding Jesus’s baptism, I’ll admit that my reading of the scene is by no means certain. Narratively it seems to fit. And while I would agree the baptism is a kind of anointing scene, this doesn’t preclude it also being a moment where Jesus confesses his sins and is cleansed. Both can be true.
I agree that, in Mark, Jesus does not make a direct statement about his divinity. At the same time, the passage cannot be used to deny the divinity of Christ. He questions the use of the term “good” by the rich young man to show that absolute goodness belongs only to God. The focus is not Christological, but rather on reflecting about obedience and love for God, especially in the face of attachment to wealth.
Jesus’ question provokes reflection, directing the interlocutor’s attention to God as the supreme source of goodness, rather than to his own divinity. Regarding the “textual movement” from “good teacher” to simply “teacher,” I believe it is not significant and may well be accidental. The economy of discourse in Mark makes the omission of the qualifier natural, without additional theological implications.
My understanding is that scholars do continue to debate the Christology found in Mark. However, the following passages in Mark have convinced me that its author neither considers Jesus a member of a divine Trinity in any sense nor the source of his miraculous power to be anything other than the Spirit of God that begins to dwell in him at his baptism (All verses are from the Revised Standard Version and italics are mine):
Mark 1:9-12: “In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And when he came up out of the water, immediately he saw the heavens opened and the Spirit descending upon him like a dove; and a voice came from heaven, ‘Thou art my beloved Son; with thee I am well pleased.’ The Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness.”
Mark 3:28-29: “’Truly, I say to you, all sins will be forgiven the sons of men, and whatever blasphemies they utter but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin…’”
Mark 10:17-18: “And as he was setting out on his journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, ‘Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ And Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.’”
Mark 15:34: “And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, ‘E′lo-i, E′lo-i, la′ma sabach-tha′ni?’ which means, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”
Consider that the baptism of Jesus is the point after which he does miraculous deeds and that he charges the Pharisees who accuse him of using demonic power of “blasphemy against the Holy Spirit” as opposed to “blasphemy against the Son” or “blasphemy against the Father.” This makes sense if Jesus’ deeds are only done through the Holy Spirit that has temporarily inhabited his body upon its “descent upon him like a dove.” Wouldn’t a completely divine Jesus be able to do the supernatural on his own authority, given that later books of the New Testament (e.g. John) seem to imply it he was created the universe rather than or in addition to Yahweh? And his last words in Mark can be taken to mean that he was left by the Holy Spirit as well as that he did not think himself divine. (He utters the phrase “My God” and not “My Father”.)
In addition, a comparison of the second and third passages enumerated with their redacted parallels in Matthew seems to point toward the latter author thinking that Mark has not sufficiently “elevated” the status of Jesus (Taken from the Revised Standard Version as above and with my italics):
1. Matthew 12:31-32: “’Therefore, I tell you, every sin and blasphemy will be forgiven men, but the blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven. And whoever says a word against the Son of man will be forgiven; but whoever speaks against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven, either in this age or in the age to come.’”
2. Matthew 19:16-17: “And behold, one came up to him, saying, “Teacher, what good deed must I do, to have eternal life?’ And he said to him, ‘Why do you ask me about what is good? One there is who is good. If you would enter life, keep the commandments.’
Matthew adds “the Son of Man” to the first passage (a proto-Trinitarian addition?) and edits the “Rich Man”pericope rather conspicuously. If Jesus only asked why he was being called “Good” to subtly hint at his divinity, Matthew doesn’t seem to understand it this way!
*If you’re looking for a brief summary of the Gospel of Mark that discusses the “divine agent” perspective on Mark (rather than assuming Mark treats Jesus as fully divine), see The New Oxford Annotated Bible (5th Edition) pg. 1829 – 1830. In addition, the Amateur Exegete has mentioned Bible Scholar J.R. Daniel Kirk in one of his replies.*
I would also point out that Melchizedek is described in the New Testament in ways that strongly indicate he was a pre-existent being and something other than a regular human:
Hebrews 7:3: “He is without father or mother or genealogy, and has neither beginning of days nor end of life, but resembling the Son of God he continues a priest for ever.” (Revised Standard Version)
(Keeping in mind that Hebrews was probably written after Paul’s lifetime and that Paul might have believed Jesus to be some sort of angel, could this be a hint of a figure who was a predecessor to the divine Jesus and was perhaps the impetus for the historical Jesus being eventually exalted to a member of the Trinity? It’s interesting to think of the possibility that just as Christians had to lower the status of John the Baptist relative to his follower Jesus, the divine Melchizedek had to have his position in the divine hierarchy “reversed” with that of the future Christ…)
I agree that in Mark it is difficult to assert that Jesus is explicitly presented as God. Reading Mark as a gospel that systematically emphasizes Jesus’ divinity would impoverish the richness of the Marcan portrait, which prioritizes action, mission, and authority. Still, this does not authorize using Mark to deny a high Christology.
Mark does not have the theological categories developed by the councils—for example, formulations about full incarnation and the “two natures” appear only centuries later (Nicaea and Chalcedon). Therefore, we cannot demand from Mark a formulation it did not possess, nor assume that its absence signifies rejection. The lack of a “Nicene” Christology in Mark indicates an earlier stage of Christological reflection, not a deliberate denial of Christ’s divinity.
The fact that Jesus in Mark is anointed and acts through the Holy Spirit should be seen within this early context. Describing Jesus as “operating through the Spirit” points to the divine origin of his mission and authority, without resolving the ontological questions that later theology would address. Practically speaking, Mark’s language about the Spirit reveals divine dependence and agency, not proof of ontological incapacity.
Regarding Mark 10:18 (“Why do you call me good? No one is good except God”), the most plausible reading is rhetorical and pedagogical, not an ontological denial of Jesus’ divinity. Jesus redirects the question to provoke reflection on what “goodness” means and on the demands of the commandments. Matthew softens the wording—which shows a later editorial sensitivity—but both versions converge functionally: the episode deals with ethics and religious expectation, not a theological statement about Christ’s ultimate identity.
Concerning Mark 15:34, the tension of the cry from the cross is legitimate and understandable within Mark’s narrative of abandonment and suffering. Recognizing this tension does not compel the conclusion that Mark denies divinity; rather, it shows that he presents a Jesus who, in his suffering humanity, calls on God with depth. Again, the absence of explicit Trinitarian discourse ≠ denial of what Christians would formulate later.
In short, Mark offers a primitive and functional Christology—emphasizing mission, anointing, and authority through the Spirit—that is, in principle, compatible with later theological developments. We cannot use the Gospel of Mark to conclusively prove or refute doctrinal formulations that would emerge only centuries later.
In regards to your last statement, I think you are correct: various interpretations of the Gospel of Mark alone cannot decide questions of Christian doctrine. My current viewpoint is that when this gospel is compared with the other two Synoptics and with John, a straightforward interpretation has it containing the “lowest” Christology of the New Testament. (This is even assuming that the theory above regarding Paul’s hinting at Jesus’s angelic nature is correct.)
I would respectfully raise the following questions:
In what ways does the Gospel of Mark give priority to the “action, mission, and authority” of Jesus as compared with say the Gospel of John? The author of the latter states what he considers to be the purpose of Jesus’ incarnation in the first chapter and contrasts his divine status with that of John the Baptist. This is also the Gospel that has the “I AM” statements seemingly emphasizing supernatural authority. There doesn’t seem to be much agreement in general on what Christological traits each book highlights. (For example, I have heard claims that Luke prioritizes the humanity of Christ with others saying this is true of John.)
What makes the “rhetorical and pedagogical” reading of Mark 10:18 more plausible than others rather than an additional possibility? If it were not interpreted with the intention of reconciliation with later Church teachings, would this be a straightforward way of understanding the verse? The best argument for understanding the question as “provoking reflection” would be if Jesus used this Socratic method when presented with Messianic or exalted claims elsewhere in Mark rather than bidding the disciples to be silent about them. (Though I completely agree that this is a secondary concern to the point of the rest of the passage.)
Aren’t the words in Mark 15:34 problematic for Trinitarianism? They seem to present a dilemma: If Jesus knew of his divinity and his future resurrection, the words indicate that his strong sense of forsakenness caused him to either doubt God’s intention to raise him from the dead (which would make him guilty of the sin of questioning God) or to ask a question that could raise confusion among onlookers (contributing to others’ doubting he was a member of the Divine Trinity). On the other hand, if Jesus at that moment somehow failed to remember “the salvation plan” this would entail either he willfully made himself ignorant or that God erased his memories. So, it would seem to be either self-deception on the part of Jesus or his Father taking part in dishonesty. (The fact that Matthew contains essentially the same phrase in contrast with his typical type of redaction could be an indication that it was either genuinely spoken by the historical Jesus or that the author liked a good Old Testament quote when he saw one.)
If the Gospel of Mark were to have never been written or have been lost, would future theology have been impacted in any way? This could be seen as indicating that it was an early “phase” in the evolution of Christology (or a vestigial Gospel if you will.)
Thanks for the interesting discussion, BTW. And I don’t claim to have the knowledge of or familiarity with the latest Bible scholarship that Ben has.
Apologies, Question 4 in the last post I wrote would be better stated as “If we were to have only Matthew, Luke, and John in the canon without ever knowing about the Gospel of Mark, would Christian theology be impacted in any way?” (Since the idea that Matthew and Luke consulted Mark is almost axiomatic among scholars, the non-existence of Mark would probably allow them to avoid making redactions to his Gospel and would probably have made the development of Christology a somewhat smoother process. So the changes to the above question would deal with a scenario in which the Gospel of Mark remained a hidden source for the other gospels without being discovered independently.)
Regarding Mark 10:18 (“Why do you call me good? No one is good except God”), several scholars converge on the interpretation that Jesus is not denying his divinity or impeccability, but rather using a pedagogical and rhetorical strategy to provoke ethical and religious reflection.
First, Cole observes that Jesus “poured cold water on the anxious question of the inquirer,” aiming to draw out from the man all the implications of his own words, rather than simply providing direct information. Similarly, Schnabel comments that “the context shows that Jesus does not intend to make a statement about himself, implying that he himself is not good in the sense that only God is good,” but challenges the young man to examine his own understanding of goodness and his suitability to obtain eternal life. Hurtado reinforces that “Jesus’ words have no relevance to the Christian doctrinal view of Christ’s divinity,” while Edwards notes that the episode fits with Jesus’ servant posture and his tendency to veil his messianic identity. Brooks adds that Jesus simply points to God as the supreme source of goodness, and that Mark’s wording remains compatible with Luke’s teaching, while Matthew’s version (Mt 19:17) softens the phrase to reduce potential misunderstandings.
George MacDonald, cited by Edwards, further clarifies that “the Son did not think more of His own goodness than an honest man thinks of his honesty. When a good man sees goodness, he thinks of his own fault: Jesus had no fault to consider, but he also does not think of His own goodness; He delights in His Father.” The HSB adds that the word “good” belongs to God; humans are good insofar as they reflect divine goodness, and Jesus, as the Son, acts according to the same logic.
Finally, the difference between Mark/Luke and Matthew illustrates later editorial concerns: while Mark preserves the original wording, Matthew softens the phrase to prevent it from being understood as a denial of Jesus’ divinity. This confirms that Mark’s original intention was rhetorical and pedagogical, preparing the ground for subsequent teaching on the commandments and the relationship with God, without making explicit Christological statements.
Regarding 15:34, even among Trinitarians it is affirmed that Jesus might not have known everything during his earthly ministry, as seen in several passages where he says he does not know, for example, the day or hour of the end of the world. Thus, Jesus assumed humanity to such a degree that omniscience was not implied. I am not certain whether Jesus knew he was God, but I believe that this is already a theological debate.
Still regarding Mark 15:34, I believe this line of reasoning goes beyond the boundaries of critical biblical study and enters the field of systematic theology. The exegesis of Mark 15:34 does not aim to resolve Trinitarian dilemmas or speculate about the divine consciousness of Jesus—these are categories that belong to later theological debates. The evangelist’s goal is to narrate, in human and literary terms, the experience of the Messiah’s abandonment and suffering, evoking Psalm 22, not to discuss the internal logic of the incarnation.
Moreover, trying to determine what Jesus “knew” or “did not know” is a speculative question with no empirical or textual basis—after all, no one can comprehend the experience of an incarnate God. Within critical biblical studies, such an approach simply does not apply.
The Amateur Exegete 
Hello Ben,
I want to comment on your analysis of Mark 10:17–18—especially the dialogue between Jesus and the rich man. The reading you propose is interesting, but I think it may create a dichotomy that the evangelist himself does not establish.
First, it is possible that Jesus’ statement is not a correction, but a question. When he asks, “Why do you call me good?” he may be inviting the interlocutor (and the reader) to reflect on the weight of what has just been said. In Mark, Jesus frequently leads people to perceive his true identity through destabilizing questions. In this case, the point may not be “do not call me good,” but rather, “do you understand what you are saying by calling me that?”
I also find problematic the assumption that the episodes of Jesus’ humility and service negate his divinity. This creates a modern false dichotomy between humility and divinity. In early Christian theology—and even in echoes present in Mark—humility is precisely an expression of divine character. The Son of Man who serves and gives his life (Mark 10:45) manifests divine power through love and self-giving, not by denying his nature. Although the logic of Jesus being baptized “for the forgiveness of sins,” implying that he saw himself as a sinner, is plausible, it seems to me that Mark minimizes this and presents Jesus’ baptism more as an anointing or commissioning for his mission.
Finally, regarding the danger of anachronism, I agree that we cannot read Mark as if he possessed the later Trinitarian vocabulary. But this point also works in the opposite direction: precisely because Mark did not have concepts such as “adoptionism,” “modalism,” or “Trinity,” one cannot conclude that his distinction between God and Jesus implies a denial of divinity. The evangelist may have been operating within an expanded Jewish monotheism, still without systematic language to express the relationship between the Father and the Son. He avoids conflating the divine persons, but does not necessarily exclude Jesus from the sphere of divine identity.
Thus, Mark 10:18 seems more part of the narrative tension that characterizes the gospel: Jesus is distinct from the Father, yet acts and speaks with God’s authority. The question “Why do you call me good?” invites the reader to recognize this tension and to reflect: if only God is good, and Jesus is called good, what does this reveal about who He is?
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I don’t want to get too into the weeds on this at the moment, but I’m unconvinced by any exegesis of Mark that maintains Jesus was thought of as a being equal in any way to God. Your reading of Jesus’s question to the rich man seems strained and the narrative clues seem to work against it. No one in the story seems to grasp this subtle nod to divinity, the man drops “good” when he addresses Jesus again, and the entire point of the narrative is about the danger of riches and the cost of discipleship. If Mark had intended to communicate in this scene a story about Jesus’s divinity, he did a poor job.
Regarding Jesus’s baptism, I’ll admit that my reading of the scene is by no means certain. Narratively it seems to fit. And while I would agree the baptism is a kind of anointing scene, this doesn’t preclude it also being a moment where Jesus confesses his sins and is cleansed. Both can be true.
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I agree that, in Mark, Jesus does not make a direct statement about his divinity. At the same time, the passage cannot be used to deny the divinity of Christ. He questions the use of the term “good” by the rich young man to show that absolute goodness belongs only to God. The focus is not Christological, but rather on reflecting about obedience and love for God, especially in the face of attachment to wealth.
Jesus’ question provokes reflection, directing the interlocutor’s attention to God as the supreme source of goodness, rather than to his own divinity. Regarding the “textual movement” from “good teacher” to simply “teacher,” I believe it is not significant and may well be accidental. The economy of discourse in Mark makes the omission of the qualifier natural, without additional theological implications.
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In Reply to the Post Above:
My understanding is that scholars do continue to debate the Christology found in Mark. However, the following passages in Mark have convinced me that its author neither considers Jesus a member of a divine Trinity in any sense nor the source of his miraculous power to be anything other than the Spirit of God that begins to dwell in him at his baptism (All verses are from the Revised Standard Version and italics are mine):
Consider that the baptism of Jesus is the point after which he does miraculous deeds and that he charges the Pharisees who accuse him of using demonic power of “blasphemy against the Holy Spirit” as opposed to “blasphemy against the Son” or “blasphemy against the Father.” This makes sense if Jesus’ deeds are only done through the Holy Spirit that has temporarily inhabited his body upon its “descent upon him like a dove.” Wouldn’t a completely divine Jesus be able to do the supernatural on his own authority, given that later books of the New Testament (e.g. John) seem to imply it he was created the universe rather than or in addition to Yahweh? And his last words in Mark can be taken to mean that he was left by the Holy Spirit as well as that he did not think himself divine. (He utters the phrase “My God” and not “My Father”.)
In addition, a comparison of the second and third passages enumerated with their redacted parallels in Matthew seems to point toward the latter author thinking that Mark has not sufficiently “elevated” the status of Jesus (Taken from the Revised Standard Version as above and with my italics):
1. Matthew 12:31-32: “’Therefore, I tell you, every sin and blasphemy will be forgiven men, but the blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven. And whoever says a word against the Son of man will be forgiven; but whoever speaks against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven, either in this age or in the age to come.’”
2. Matthew 19:16-17: “And behold, one came up to him, saying, “Teacher, what good deed must I do, to have eternal life?’ And he said to him, ‘Why do you ask me about what is good? One there is who is good. If you would enter life, keep the commandments.’
Matthew adds “the Son of Man” to the first passage (a proto-Trinitarian addition?) and edits the “Rich Man”pericope rather conspicuously. If Jesus only asked why he was being called “Good” to subtly hint at his divinity, Matthew doesn’t seem to understand it this way!
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Continued from the previous post:
*If you’re looking for a brief summary of the Gospel of Mark that discusses the “divine agent” perspective on Mark (rather than assuming Mark treats Jesus as fully divine), see The New Oxford Annotated Bible (5th Edition) pg. 1829 – 1830. In addition, the Amateur Exegete has mentioned Bible Scholar J.R. Daniel Kirk in one of his replies.*
I would also point out that Melchizedek is described in the New Testament in ways that strongly indicate he was a pre-existent being and something other than a regular human:
Hebrews 7:3: “He is without father or mother or genealogy, and has neither beginning of days nor end of life, but resembling the Son of God he continues a priest for ever.” (Revised Standard Version)
(Keeping in mind that Hebrews was probably written after Paul’s lifetime and that Paul might have believed Jesus to be some sort of angel, could this be a hint of a figure who was a predecessor to the divine Jesus and was perhaps the impetus for the historical Jesus being eventually exalted to a member of the Trinity? It’s interesting to think of the possibility that just as Christians had to lower the status of John the Baptist relative to his follower Jesus, the divine Melchizedek had to have his position in the divine hierarchy “reversed” with that of the future Christ…)
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I agree that in Mark it is difficult to assert that Jesus is explicitly presented as God. Reading Mark as a gospel that systematically emphasizes Jesus’ divinity would impoverish the richness of the Marcan portrait, which prioritizes action, mission, and authority. Still, this does not authorize using Mark to deny a high Christology.
Mark does not have the theological categories developed by the councils—for example, formulations about full incarnation and the “two natures” appear only centuries later (Nicaea and Chalcedon). Therefore, we cannot demand from Mark a formulation it did not possess, nor assume that its absence signifies rejection. The lack of a “Nicene” Christology in Mark indicates an earlier stage of Christological reflection, not a deliberate denial of Christ’s divinity.
The fact that Jesus in Mark is anointed and acts through the Holy Spirit should be seen within this early context. Describing Jesus as “operating through the Spirit” points to the divine origin of his mission and authority, without resolving the ontological questions that later theology would address. Practically speaking, Mark’s language about the Spirit reveals divine dependence and agency, not proof of ontological incapacity.
Regarding Mark 10:18 (“Why do you call me good? No one is good except God”), the most plausible reading is rhetorical and pedagogical, not an ontological denial of Jesus’ divinity. Jesus redirects the question to provoke reflection on what “goodness” means and on the demands of the commandments. Matthew softens the wording—which shows a later editorial sensitivity—but both versions converge functionally: the episode deals with ethics and religious expectation, not a theological statement about Christ’s ultimate identity.
Concerning Mark 15:34, the tension of the cry from the cross is legitimate and understandable within Mark’s narrative of abandonment and suffering. Recognizing this tension does not compel the conclusion that Mark denies divinity; rather, it shows that he presents a Jesus who, in his suffering humanity, calls on God with depth. Again, the absence of explicit Trinitarian discourse ≠ denial of what Christians would formulate later.
In short, Mark offers a primitive and functional Christology—emphasizing mission, anointing, and authority through the Spirit—that is, in principle, compatible with later theological developments. We cannot use the Gospel of Mark to conclusively prove or refute doctrinal formulations that would emerge only centuries later.
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Replying to Last Post:
In regards to your last statement, I think you are correct: various interpretations of the Gospel of Mark alone cannot decide questions of Christian doctrine. My current viewpoint is that when this gospel is compared with the other two Synoptics and with John, a straightforward interpretation has it containing the “lowest” Christology of the New Testament. (This is even assuming that the theory above regarding Paul’s hinting at Jesus’s angelic nature is correct.)
I would respectfully raise the following questions:
Thanks for the interesting discussion, BTW. And I don’t claim to have the knowledge of or familiarity with the latest Bible scholarship that Ben has.
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Apologies, Question 4 in the last post I wrote would be better stated as “If we were to have only Matthew, Luke, and John in the canon without ever knowing about the Gospel of Mark, would Christian theology be impacted in any way?” (Since the idea that Matthew and Luke consulted Mark is almost axiomatic among scholars, the non-existence of Mark would probably allow them to avoid making redactions to his Gospel and would probably have made the development of Christology a somewhat smoother process. So the changes to the above question would deal with a scenario in which the Gospel of Mark remained a hidden source for the other gospels without being discovered independently.)
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Regarding Mark 10:18 (“Why do you call me good? No one is good except God”), several scholars converge on the interpretation that Jesus is not denying his divinity or impeccability, but rather using a pedagogical and rhetorical strategy to provoke ethical and religious reflection.
First, Cole observes that Jesus “poured cold water on the anxious question of the inquirer,” aiming to draw out from the man all the implications of his own words, rather than simply providing direct information. Similarly, Schnabel comments that “the context shows that Jesus does not intend to make a statement about himself, implying that he himself is not good in the sense that only God is good,” but challenges the young man to examine his own understanding of goodness and his suitability to obtain eternal life. Hurtado reinforces that “Jesus’ words have no relevance to the Christian doctrinal view of Christ’s divinity,” while Edwards notes that the episode fits with Jesus’ servant posture and his tendency to veil his messianic identity. Brooks adds that Jesus simply points to God as the supreme source of goodness, and that Mark’s wording remains compatible with Luke’s teaching, while Matthew’s version (Mt 19:17) softens the phrase to reduce potential misunderstandings.
George MacDonald, cited by Edwards, further clarifies that “the Son did not think more of His own goodness than an honest man thinks of his honesty. When a good man sees goodness, he thinks of his own fault: Jesus had no fault to consider, but he also does not think of His own goodness; He delights in His Father.” The HSB adds that the word “good” belongs to God; humans are good insofar as they reflect divine goodness, and Jesus, as the Son, acts according to the same logic.
Finally, the difference between Mark/Luke and Matthew illustrates later editorial concerns: while Mark preserves the original wording, Matthew softens the phrase to prevent it from being understood as a denial of Jesus’ divinity. This confirms that Mark’s original intention was rhetorical and pedagogical, preparing the ground for subsequent teaching on the commandments and the relationship with God, without making explicit Christological statements.
Regarding 15:34, even among Trinitarians it is affirmed that Jesus might not have known everything during his earthly ministry, as seen in several passages where he says he does not know, for example, the day or hour of the end of the world. Thus, Jesus assumed humanity to such a degree that omniscience was not implied. I am not certain whether Jesus knew he was God, but I believe that this is already a theological debate.
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Still regarding Mark 15:34, I believe this line of reasoning goes beyond the boundaries of critical biblical study and enters the field of systematic theology. The exegesis of Mark 15:34 does not aim to resolve Trinitarian dilemmas or speculate about the divine consciousness of Jesus—these are categories that belong to later theological debates. The evangelist’s goal is to narrate, in human and literary terms, the experience of the Messiah’s abandonment and suffering, evoking Psalm 22, not to discuss the internal logic of the incarnation.
Moreover, trying to determine what Jesus “knew” or “did not know” is a speculative question with no empirical or textual basis—after all, no one can comprehend the experience of an incarnate God. Within critical biblical studies, such an approach simply does not apply.
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Hello Ben, I would like to know if you base your understanding of New Testament Christology on James McGrath and Andrew Perriman?
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My Christology has been shaped more by J.R. Daniel Kirk and (to a lesser extent) Paula Fredriksen than McGrath or Perriman.
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