When Mark Returns AGAIN to the Writing Center

I’ve been scribing the Gospels lately—just twenty verses into Mark chapter 1—and I finally decided it was time. I needed to call Mark into the Writing Center. Yes, that Mark. The one who wrote the shortest, fastest, most breathless Gospel in the New Testament. The one who can’t seem to write a paragraph without sprinting.

So I sat him down, slid the manuscript across the table, and said, “Mark, we need to talk about your grammar.”

He blinked at me, probably wondering how he got here and why a woman from the 21st century was holding a red pen over his sacred text. But I pressed on.


“Mark, About These Sentences…”

“Listen,” I told him, “I know this is translated from your original language. I know Koine Greek doesn’t follow modern English rules. I know your Gospel was meant to be read aloud, fast-paced, urgent, breathless. But let’s not make excuses here.”

I tapped the page.

“You have sentences that run on for half a mile. You start half your paragraphs with ‘And.’ You leave out verbs. You splice commas like you’re trying to knit with punctuation. And honestly, Mark… I love it.”

He looked relieved.

Because the truth is, Mark’s grammar may be chaotic, but his message is not. His Gospel moves like a wildfire—quick, bright, unstoppable. It reads like someone who cannot wait another second to tell you about Jesus. And maybe that’s why his grammar feels like it’s sprinting. His heart is sprinting.


The Gospel That Changed Lives

I leaned back in my chair and said, “Mark, your grammar may give English teachers heart palpitations, but your Gospel has changed the world.”

He nodded, because he knows.

His Gospel has:

  • called sinners to repentance
  • revealed Jesus as the Son of God
  • shown demons fleeing at His voice
  • displayed the heavens torn open
  • carried the cross to the center of history
  • proclaimed resurrection with trembling joy

Mark didn’t write to impress scholars. He wrote to save souls. He wrote so the church—then and now—could hear the good news with urgency and clarity.

And maybe that’s why his grammar feels like a man running out of breath. He wasn’t polishing sentences. He was proclaiming salvation.


Why I Love Mark’s “Bad Grammar”

So I told him, “Mark, your grammar may be questionable, but your theology is flawless.”

He grinned.

Because the Gospel of Mark is not a literary masterpiece—it is a spiritual earthquake. It shakes the ground under our feet. It tears open the heavens. It drives Jesus into the wilderness and drives demons out of people. It calls fishermen from their boats and calls us from our old lives.

Mark writes like a man who has seen the kingdom of God break in and cannot slow down long enough to breathe, much less diagram a sentence.

And honestly? I love it!

Father,
Thank You for the gift of Your Word—perfect in truth even when our grammar isn’t. Thank You for inspiring Mark to write with urgency, passion, and Holy Spirit fire, reminding us that the Gospel is not about polished sentences but about a Savior who changes lives. As we read, study, and even laugh our way through these verses, let Your Spirit open our eyes to see Jesus more clearly. Give us hearts that respond as quickly as Mark writes—immediately, joyfully, and obediently. May Your Word run swiftly through our lives, accomplishing everything You send it to do.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.


Posted

in

by

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *