Mark's whole telling of the story of Jesus is designed to function as an apocalypse. The reader is constantly invited by the gospel as a whole to do what the disciples are invited to do in the parable-chapter, that is, to come closer and discover the inner secret behind the strange outer story.

bishop n.t. wright, the new testament and the people of God, p.395

this is going to be very influential in my upcoming hermeneutic project on Mark for leithart.

maybe it's just 2 am, but this blows my mind:

“we will be like Him, for we shall see Him as He Is.” 

why we will be like Him? because we'll actually see Him. praise His name forevermore. 

winter's blood

this is a quickly written work in progress. any suggestions are welcome. i just jotted it down this weekend and my brother Kanaan kind of liked it, so i figured it couldn't be all that bad. he's got some taste in such things. anyhow, as far as the last little triplet, i couldn't let it go by without giving props to Big Ty Antkowiak for telling me that Aslan is on the move while i shoveled snow early thursday morning. kinda made my day, and definitely made this poem. 

i am an undertaker, shoveling away the dead. 

our enemy, our lawless queen of ice and cold

is falling fast, and falling faster into the pit I dig. 

Her icy east wind cannot stop my work

our king has come, though he is not here yet, 

his breath melts the ice, his eyes warm the sun

i scrape away her minions' bones, i toss them 

under the saplings that eat them and grow strong. 

i stand ankle deep in my enemies' blood, 

and wonder if my hands will ever be warm again. 

the king will warm them when he comes, when he

drives away usurpers and warms us all again. 

i am a feeble man, i only shovel snow. weak in body, 

weak in mind, small in heart, and small in grace, 

yet such as i do contend with spirits, giants, 

drakes, and monsters and bury the Enemy Death. 

our King will come, has come, is now coming, 

and in His mouth a sword to strike down the evil one. 

these things i think when, while i shovel winter 

off the sidewalks, one of our giants picks me up,

and roars with joy that aslan is on the move.