MARK - Week 3
If you've ever read through the Gospel of Mark and reached the end, you might have noticed something strange.
The final chapter can leave us shocked, confused or both. Depending on the Bible you're using, there might even be a note that says something like: “The earliest manuscripts and some other ancient witnesses do not have verses 9–20.”
So what’s going on?
Mark 16 starts with the women discovering the empty tomb early on Easter morning. They meet a mysterious young man in white (traditionally understood to be an angel) who tells them Jesus has risen and they are to tell the disciples. But then it finishes—just like that—with this sentence:
“So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them, and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” (Mark 16:8)
No appearances of the risen Jesus. No reunion with the disciples. No Great Commission. Just fear and silence.
That’s a strange note to end on, right?
Many scholars believe that this abrupt finish is actually the original ending. The two most ancient and trusted manuscripts of the New Testament—Codex Vaticanus and Codex Sinaiticus, both from the 4th century—stop Mark’s Gospel at 16:8. But a longer ending (verses 9–20) does appear in later manuscripts, including the Codex Alexandrinus, and became the traditional ending in most later copies.
This has led to a lot of debate in biblical scholarship. Was the longer ending added later because scribes or early Christians were uncomfortable with the Gospel ending so abruptly? Was the original ending lost? Or was Mark being deliberately provocative?
The verses from Mark 16:9–20 contain a summary of resurrection appearances, a commissioning of the disciples, and references to signs that will accompany believers like speaking in tongues or handling snake (I had definitely forgotten that bit about snakes…). But it reads quite differently in tone and style from the rest of Mark. Scholars have long noticed that the vocabulary shifts and it feels more like a collage of material drawn from the endings of Matthew, Luke, and Acts.
In short, it looks like an attempt to round out the Gospel—to bring it into line with the other resurrection accounts. Whether this was done to “fix” the ending or simply to preserve oral traditions isn’t fully clear. But it’s pretty widely accepted among scholars today that verses 9–20 were not part of the original Gospel of Mark.
If we take the Gospel ending at 16:8 as intentional, we can read it as doing something quite profound. Throughout the Gospel, Mark has shown Jesus’ power, His authority, His teaching, and His suffering. He’s painted a picture of a Messiah who doesn’t follow expected scripts. So why should the resurrection follow a neat, polished pattern either?
Mark’s ending—with the women afraid and silent—leaves us with a kind of unfinished story. There’s no resurrection appearance, no comforting closure. It puts the ball in our court.
The empty tomb is there. The angel has spoken. But now what? The silence almost demands a response from the reader. Will we stay afraid and say nothing? Or will we step into the story and carry it forward?
For those of us who feel like we know the story inside out, Mark’s strange and abrupt ending is a gift. It reminds us that the resurrection isn’t just a happy conclusion—it’s a beginning. It’s a call to action.
The risen Jesus goes ahead of the disciples into Galilee, and the story continues not in ancient manuscripts, but in our lives.
So maybe the question isn’t, “Where does Mark’s Gospel end?” Maybe it’s, “Where does it continue?”