Across cultures and centuries the lion is a symbol of courage, power, royalty, and justice. In Roman mythology, the lion is a beast whose roar can wake the dead. It is strange, then, that the follower who fled in fear of his life from the scene of Jesus's arrest is commonly depicted in Medieval and Renaissance art as a lion. As early as the fifth century, Mark the writer of the second Gospel, also called John Mark, was depicted symbolically as a winged lion. The other three writers were given similar symbols in accordance with the four beasts described by the prophet Ezekiel. Two centuries later these curious creatures were universally employed as symbolic of the four writers. Today, the majestic lion depicting the witness who once ran away can be seen throughout European museums and Venetian cathedrals in stone and on canvas.
By definition, a follower of a particular cause or a leader cannot run in the opposite direction of the thing or person they are following; doing so, they would, of course, no longer be following. Similarly, Jesus once told a would-be disciple, "No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God" (Luke 9:62). These words strike fear in many of us, even as they seem to acknowledge something Christ knew would be a challenge to those who would accept the invitation to come after him. The capacity to run away from God for whatever reason seems at times present in all who profess to follow Him.
In his Gospel, Mark mentions a young man (commonly thought to be himself) who fled in such fear during the arrest of Jesus that he left his clothes behind. Writes Mark, "A young man, wearing nothing but a linen garment, was following Jesus. When they seized him, he fled naked, leaving his garment behind" (Mark 14:51-52). Fear is a powerful motivator to leave a scene running. Other times it is pride or apathy, disappointment or greed. But each time we pick up running, we shed our faith in God's sovereignty like a garment left behind. For Mark, it would not be the last time he opted to run.
The book of Acts recounts him as a companion of Paul and Barnabas on their first missionary journey. He had accompanied the two as their assistant, but something happened after the team left Cyprus. Arriving in Pamphylia, John Mark left them and returned to Jerusalem. It was a decision that did not go over well with Paul. Years later, planning another missionary journey, Barnabas wanted to invite their former companion, but Paul did not think it was wise to take him "because he had deserted them in Pamphylia and had not continued with them in the work" (Acts 15:38).
For those who carry in their identity the burden of being a deserter, for those who have run from God and the Son we swore to follow, the story of Mark is like the roar of a lion. For running can at times remind us who we are again, like David who found there was no where he could flee from God's presence, or Jacob who discovered he couldn't run forever but had to wrestle with the sovereign one behind his pride and fear, or Mark who seemed to realize that sin and shortfall only illumine the urgency of our need for Christ the King.
Beginning his Gospel with "the voice of one crying in the wilderness," Mark continues with intensity throughout—skipping introductions, delving into events, speaking with immediacy. It is apparent that he concerned himself most with getting the story out and message across. Jesus is Lord, the Son of God, the promised Messiah; there is no time to run. And yet, throughout this Gospel of action and miracles, Mark repeatedly draws attention to human difficulties in the midst of Christ's power. He describes a world of people blinded by their own weakness, demanding signs, and forever missing the message. There is little doubt Mark understood how easy it is to continue running from the one we need most to stop and follow.
Years after their initial incident, Paul found the formerly uncommitted Mark a much needed presence in his own ministry. In the apostle's concluding epistle, he instructed Timothy: "Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is useful to me for ministering" (2 Timothy 4:11). The once-rejected young worker with the capacity to run realized the magnitude of being found by the Son of God and spent his life declaring it. Mark's urgency is a lion's attempt to wake the dead.
by Jill Carattini
