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When it is said in Mk 1:21, οἱ εἰσπορεύονται Καφαρναούμ (“they enter Capernaum”), some ask from what place Jesus set out with his companions to enter the city. Some answer: from the lake, because Christ had just been walking along the lake (Weiss); others: from Bethsaida, because those whom he called as companions lived in Bethsaida (Schanz); others again: from Nazareth, because the narrative of Luke seems to require this (Victor of Antioch, Theophylact). If one inquires into the order of events that can be gathered by comparing the narratives of the Evangelists, then certainly with Victor, Theophylact, and Euthymius it must be said that Jesus descended from Nazareth to Capernaum, as follows from Luke 4:30–31.
But if you consider only Mark’s narrative, such a question—whence he came when entering Capernaum—is not to be raised. For Mark in no way hints at this, nor can it be established whether what he narrates happened immediately after what precedes, or altogether after those events. Various things could have happened which he omitted; it may also be that the order of successive events is different. For, as Papias had already learned from the presbyter John, Mark reported some things not in their proper order (οὐ τάξει ἔνια, “not in order”; cited by Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.39; cf. Cornely, Introductio III, p. 88). And if, as many think, the calling of the disciples narrated in Mk 1:16–20 is the same as that which Luke recounts in 5:1 ff. (on which see the Commentary on Matthew I, p. 165 ff.), here you already have an example of the order of events not being preserved.
Jesus, rejected by the citizens of Nazareth, betook himself to Capernaum, and there he lived so constantly and frequently that it is called his city (Matt 9:1). Accordingly, he chose as it were his headquarters a maritime city, populous, full of tax collectors and other traders, and therefore the more corrupt in morals (Maldonatus), from which city there was great opportunity for making journeys by land and sea into neighboring regions (cf. on Matt 4:13). Matthew deliberately points out that this residence of the Messiah had already been designated by prophetic oracle (Mt 4:15–16).
On the Sabbath the Jews were accustomed to gather in the synagogue for prayer and to hear the reading of the Law and the Prophets (cf. Acts 15:21). It was permitted for all who were in the synagogues to rise and speak if anything occurred to them, as is understood from Luke 4:16–17 and Acts 13:15–16; to this custom Paul seems to allude in 1 Corinthians 14:30 (Maldonatus). See what I have said on Matthew 4:23. Therefore Jesus made use of this opportunity to spread his teaching, and immediately on the Sabbaths, entering the synagogue, he taught them—τοῖς σαββάτοις (“on the Sabbaths”), a plural form that can designate either a single Sabbath day or several. But here, since εὐθύς (εὐθέως, “immediately, straightway”) is added, it must be understood of the Sabbath day that immediately followed his entrance into the city. In the same way σάββατα is already used of a single day in the Septuagint (Exod 20:10; 31:15; Lev 23:32), just as other feast names are also expressed in the plural, such as τὰ γενέσια (“the birthday feast”) and τὰ ἄζυμα (“the Unleavened Bread”; Mk 6:21; Mk 15:1), or, as others wish, the noun is expressed according to the Aramaic manner.
Those who heard Christ teaching were struck with the greatest admiration at his manner of presenting it, Mk 1:22: “and they were astonished at his teaching”—ἐξεπλήσσοντο (“they were amazed, struck dumb with wonder”), they were overwhelmed with astonishment because of his teaching; for he was teaching them as one having authority—ὡς (“as”), which does not lessen the statement but contains a comparison: he taught like one who is endowed with authority, just as you also find in John 1:14, “we saw his glory, glory as of the only-begotten from the Father,” that is, such glory as befits the only-begotten; and not like the scribes. How these taught we learn from the Pharisaic traditions which Christ attacks, from the heavy burdens they laid upon men (cf. Matt 15:2; Mt 23:4), and partly also from the Talmudic discussions concerning the explanation and application to life of individual commandments. They were wholly occupied with surrounding every action of life with many minute prescriptions, by which a kind of perfect observance of the Law might be achieved. How diligently, for example, they taught the avoidance and removal of every Levitical defilement, Mark 7:3–4 provides an example; from the law of the Sabbath likewise they derived how far one might walk on the Sabbath (Acts 1:12), and so forth. Thus the scribes were wholly taken up with applying the ceremonial law, and with confirming and persuading by appeals to the words of the Law and to their own authority.
Christ was different. He teaches with his own authority, as is evident from the Sermon on the Mount: “But I say to you” (Catena Aurea; Glossa Ordinaria; Bede; Maldonatus). He teaches with the greatest gentleness and grace those things which lift up souls, fill them with confidence, consolation, and divine love, and draw them away from sins and the miseries of life. Moreover, as Jansenius notes, his speech possessed a certain marvelous energy and efficacy, the Holy Spirit moving the hearts of the hearers in a wondrous way through him to faith and repentance. Hence Albert well describes the power of Christ’s preaching with the words of the Apostle: “For the word of God is living and active, and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Heb 4:12). Nor is it necessary, with some, to appeal to miracles in order to explain how Christ taught with authority. This power over souls the Psalmist indicates: “Grace is poured out upon your lips” (Ps 45:3); Isaiah points to it in Is 42:7; Is 49:9; 61:1–2, and especially Is 50:4: “The Lord gave me a learned tongue, that I might know how to sustain the weary with a word.”
This admiration of the people at Jesus’ teaching is reported by Matthew after the Sermon on the Mount (Mt 7:29); Luke 4:32 expresses the thought more generally. In the same way here in Mark, the words are to be taken generically, as Patrizi judges. He writes: “This passage is one of those by which it becomes clear in what sense Mark’s adverbs εὐθύς, εὐθέως (‘immediately, straightway’), which he uses very frequently, are to be understood. For in this place he does not narrate a single thing which Christ did once, but what he was accustomed to do on Sabbaths. Therefore ‘immediately’ is not to be understood as though Christ went straight from the city gate to the synagogue; especially since it is clear that that day was not a Sabbath, for people were fishing in Mk 1:16 and mending nets in Mk 1:19.” But this interpretation is opposed by what follows, καὶ εὐθύς ἦν (“and immediately there was”), by which expression the event is closely connected to what precedes; and just as in verses 23 ff. a single thing is narrated that happened once on a definite Sabbath, so what precedes in verse 21 must also be referred to one event (cf. 1:16-20). Nor does “on the Sabbaths” present an obstacle, as has already been explained above.
Saint Peter, in his sermon about Jesus in Acts 10:38, draws particular attention from Christ’s miracles to the fact that he went about healing all who were oppressed by the devil. Mark, his disciple and companion, similarly begins to narrate Christ’s miracles with a demon conquered and expelled, and repeatedly shows demons to be completely subject to Christ. For by this fear and subjection of the demons the power of the Son of God is, as it were, placed before the eyes of the Gentiles. It is also fitting, as is noted in the Catena Aurea, that since through the envy of the devil death entered the world, therefore the medicine of salvation should first work against the very author of death.
Mk 1:23, καὶ εὐθύς (“and immediately”), thus tightly connects the narrative to what precedes and declares that, at once, at the same time when Christ taught on that Sabbath day, there was present a man possessed by a demon, so that as soon as he began to preach in the synagogue he had to contend with the demon. And there was in their synagogue—that is, among those who had been hearing Christ teach with such admiration—a man ἐν πνεύματι ἀκαθάρτῳ (“in an unclean spirit”). The expression “in a spirit” is similar to that which Saint Paul so often uses to designate the union of the righteous with Christ—“in Christ,” “in the Lord,” that is, inserted into, implanted in Christ. Therefore “a man in an unclean spirit” is a man in the power of a demon, a man to whom the demon is closely joined, in whom the demon dwells, and whose members and voice the demon uses at will for his own purposes. The demon is called an “unclean spirit” because uncleanness is most opposed to the holiness of God and is farthest removed from the holy God. One who was Levitically unclean was barred from God’s sanctuary and God’s benefits; therefore the “unclean spirit” is one excluded from God’s dwelling and benefits, infected with the foulest stain, and an object of the greatest abomination to God. It follows that just as God wills and approves all that is holy, so the unclean spirit wills, embraces, promotes, and furthers everything that is base and sinful. Hence Victor aptly says that the devil is called unclean because of impiety and distance from God and because he delights in all shameful and wicked things (similarly Catena Aurea; Theophylact; Euthymius).
That man, under the power of the demon presiding over him (A Lapide), cried out—that is, the demon, having seized his voice and tongue and governing his members, made him cry out, or cried out through him; for the presence of Christ is a torment to the demon (Bede; Lapide). “The power of Christ’s divinity began to manifest itself in the demon himself, so that he sensed he was about to be driven out of the man; therefore, unable to endure Christ’s presence and power because of the excessive torture and pain, he made the possessed man cry out” (Jansenius), saying: “What have we to do with you, Jesus of Nazareth?” He speaks one for all, indicating and sensing that Christ has declared war on all demons; thus he recognizes that the common cause of all is at stake. If the reading οἴδαμεν (“we know”) were certain, it could be said that several demons were in that man, as in the other case (Mark 5:9; Luke 8:30) and in Mary Magdalene (Luke 8:2) (Maldonatus). “What have we to do with you?”—that is, he alleges a reason why he should not be expelled: “What cause have you for harassing us? We have harmed you in nothing, inflicted no injury upon you; why then are you against us?” Thus Toletus on Luke 4:34, and similarly Maldonatus and Lapide. “What is there between you and us?” (Erasmus?)—a form of speech quite frequent, though not always with the same sense. Generally by this formula one repudiates association, business, or dealings with another, complains in some way why he causes trouble, or even asks that he cease from interfering; yet the words are not everywhere reproachful or rebuking, since they are also used when someone desires to obtain something by entreaty (cf. Judg 11:12; 2 Sam 16:10; 2Sam 19:22; 2 Kgs 9:18; Matt 8:29, etc.). The sense, therefore, must be drawn from the context and the circumstances of the narrated event. Once also (John 2:4) it seems to mean: “Why should this matter concern me and you? It is of no concern to us,” from which notion Jansenius’ interpretation is not far removed: “What cause is there in me for you to trouble me?”
What follows, “You have come to destroy us,” is read interrogatively in the Vulgate, and likewise by some moderns (Bisping, Schegg), and in the same way was edited by Westcott and Hort; others read it assertively, as Jansenius reports was already read by many, although he himself prefers the former reading. The difference is not very great. But since the demon’s cry has already been explained by the torture and pain he perceived from Christ’s presence, and since the demon immediately confesses Jesus as “the Holy One of God” (ὁ ἅγιος τοῦ Θεοῦ), who indeed, as the Holy One, must be thought to persecute the unclean spirit, it seems more fitting to read it assertively, or as an exclamation full of pain and complaint, rather than interrogatively; for an interrogation seems rather to imply some doubt, which can scarcely be admitted in this place.
He says, moreover, “to destroy us”: “behold a proclamation of Christ’s power” (Alb.). And “to destroy” means not only to deprive the demons of their power to torment human beings (Euthymius), but also to torture them and cast them down into hell (cf. Alb., Jansenius, Maldonatus, Toletus, Lapide, Sylvius, Calmet, Schanz). The demon therefore senses that the one who stands before him is he who must crush the serpent’s head. And whence does he know this? The demon adds: “I know who you are, the Holy One of God,” with greater emphasis in Greek: “I know who you are,” οἶδά σε τίς εἶ, ὁ ἅγιος—“that Holy One,” the one singular and outstanding. “Every one of the prophets was holy, but he does not indicate one among many; rather, by the article he designates the one who is pre-eminent above all” (Victor). And Euthymius notes: he does not say simply ἅγιος (“holy”), but adds the article; for the prophets too are holy, but by participation, whereas God alone is holy by nature and properly so. Therefore he says ὁ ἅγιος, that is, “the one who is holy by nature and in the proper sense” (ἀντὶ τοῦ ὁ φύσει καὶ κυρίως ἅγιος). And Theophylact: “the one who alone is marked out and determined,” that unique and pre-appointed one.
Yet in the designation itself there is not, strictly speaking, a profession of Jesus’ divinity, but rather the affirmation that he has been chosen and consecrated by God in a singular way for God’s work. Thus Aaron is called ὁ ἅγιος Κυρίου (“the holy one of the Lord”) in Psalm 106:16; Christ, however, is called “the Holy One of God” in John 6:69 (in several Greek manuscripts, N B C* D L), and similarly in Acts 4:30. When the unclean spirit calls Jesus “the Holy One of God,” it unwillingly proclaims the greatest opposition that exists between itself and Jesus: Jesus is holy, consecrated to God, close to God, chosen in an eminent way for God’s work; the unclean spirit is far removed from God and from God’s work, accursed by God, and utterly inclined to every baseness.
Bede remarks: “This is not a confession of will, but a forced confession of necessity, which compels the unwilling to acknowledge; and just as runaway slaves, after a long time, when they see their master, ask for nothing except relief from blows, so the demons, seeing the Lord suddenly moving about on earth, believed that he had come to judge them.” Others think that the demon addressed Jesus in this way out of flattery (Euthymius), that is, so that he might spare him—a view which Toletus rightly rejects. Maldonatus, however, says that the confession was voluntary, arising from self-love and fear of punishment. Certainly it cannot be thought that the demon was forced to this confession by increased torments, since Christ immediately commands him to be silent. It suffices to say that by the mere presence of Christ the unclean spirit was compelled to confess his own disgrace and to give praise to Jesus.
Some explain the words “I know” (οἶδα) not of true and certain knowledge, but of conjecture or suspicion. Thus already Victor says: στοχάζομαι τὴν παρουσίαν σου, ὑποπτεύω τὴν ἄφιξιν (“I infer your presence, I suspect your coming”); for he did not have certain and firm knowledge of his presence, and if he seems to know it, he speaks with dissimulation. Albert interprets it as “I strongly suppose,” and Dionysius says that the demons did not know this with absolute and stable certainty; indeed, they could have known it for certain, had they not been impeded by divine dispensation. Jansenius likewise holds that we should not think the demons truly knew what they claimed to know, but that they suspected it by certain conjectures and falsely asserted that they knew.
Hence arises here the question whether, during Jesus’ public life, the demons knew that Jesus was the Messiah and the Son of God. The author of the Questions on the New and Old Testament, once thought to be Saint Augustine, judges that they did know Jesus to be the one promised in the Law, but were ignorant of the mystery of his divinity (q. 66; Migne 35, 2261). Saint Thomas Aquinas (ST III, q. 29, a. 4 ad 3) says that the devil knew in some way that Jesus was the Son of God at the time when Christ displayed his power against him; and in q. 44, a. 4 ad 2 he says that the demons, seeing the miracles, conjectured that he was the Son of God; thus, if they confessed him to be the Son of God, this was more from conjecture than from certainty. In q. 47, a. 1 he teaches that the demons knew Jesus to be the Christ promised in the Law, but were ignorant of the mystery of his divinity. For this doctrine the Angelic Doctor appeals, among others, to the author of the Questions on the Old and New Testament, and in the Catena Aurea under the name of Chrysostom he cites what is found in Victor of Antioch.
To defend this view, appeal is commonly made to 1 Corinthians 2:8: “for if they had known, they would never have crucified the Lord of glory.” But here one must weigh carefully what Maldonatus notes: “I do not approve the opinion of those who think the demons did not know Christ; for it is not the demons alone—whom we might easily believe to have lied—who claim to know Christ, but the Evangelists themselves, who certainly could not lie under the impulse of the Holy Spirit, teach that they truly knew him. Mark later (v. 34): ‘he did not permit them to speak, because they knew him’; and Luke 4:41: ‘demons also came out of many, crying out and saying, You are the Son of God; and rebuking them, he would not allow them to speak, because they knew that he was the Christ.’”
Moreover, one must consider what Suárez teaches at length (Disp. 34, sect. 3, n. 6 ff.), who holds absolutely that the demons knew Christ’s divinity before his death: “For in the Old Testament it was most clearly foretold that the Messiah would be true God and the Son of God; the demon understood those Scriptures and recognized Jesus as the Messiah, therefore also as God. Further, he heard one and another testimony of the Father; he also heard often from Christ himself that he was the Son of God and one with the Father (John 5:18; 10:30), and he frequently and clearly saw miracles performed in confirmation of this. And Christ’s words were so clear that even the Jews understood Jesus to be proclaiming himself true Son of God and equal to the Father. Therefore, although the demon, as long as he did not yet fully understand that Jesus was the Messiah, might have doubted the sense in which Christ was called the Son of God, for example at the baptism, nevertheless, after he persuaded himself that Jesus was the Messiah and saw and heard so many testimonies of his divinity, he undoubtedly believed it—although perhaps at times, when he did not consider all things, because of the magnitude of the mystery and his own perverse disposition, he hesitated or even doubted.” Likewise Toletus (on Luke 8, annot. 60) says that the demons openly proclaimed Christ’s divinity.
But if they knew him to be the Messiah and true Son of God, how could they plot his crucifixion? That they did plot it is certain; see Luke 22:3, 53; John 13:2, 27. And how does this accord with the Apostle’s words in 1 Corinthians 2:8?
Suárez and others judge this solution probable: the Apostle did not say that the demons were ignorant of Christ’s divinity, but that they were ignorant of the hidden mystery contained in Christ’s passion and death—namely, the salvation and restoration of humanity and the overthrow of the dominion of demons. Yet it seems difficult to believe that demons—who, according to Suárez himself, understood the Scriptures and prophecies and heard Christ’s declarations about himself—failed to perceive this. For already in the first Messianic oracle it is asserted that through the Messiah the serpent’s head would be crushed; the demons themselves complain that Jesus has come to destroy them; Christ clearly affirms that “now the ruler of this world will be cast out”; and how often in the prophecies and in Christ’s own words is it indicated that the salvation of humanity would be accomplished by the Messiah’s death? Cf. Isaiah 53:4–12; Psalm 22:23–32; Daniel 9:24, 26; Zechariah 12:10–13:1; John 3:14–17; Jn 6:40, 52; Jn 17:19, etc. Therefore I cannot persuade myself that the demons were ignorant of this.
Another opinion seems truer to me, one which both Cajetan and Suárez also propose: namely, that even though the demons recognized the divine majesty in Christ, they nevertheless did not refrain from persecuting him, but rather, out of hatred and wrath long rooted against God and all that belongs to him, they burned more fiercely against Christ. “For demons hate God so much that, if they could rush upon the divinity itself and reduce it to nothing, they would attempt to do so; therefore, even if they recognized that Christ’s humanity was deified and singularly made God’s own, they would with all the greater hatred plot death, ignominy, and every evil against him.” Accordingly, just as out of hatred for God they persecute and vex human beings, the image of God, so also the fact that they knew Jesus’ humanity to be so intimately united to the divinity could only spur them on to persecute him as much as they could, and to vent upon that human nature—so intimately assumed by the Word—the hatred which they could not exhaust upon God himself and the divine Word. For anger and vengeance are so constituted that, if they cannot be exercised directly against a person, they are commonly exercised against the things belonging to the one who is hated. In the same way, since the demon cannot harm God himself, he will be all the more eager to inflict harm upon the human nature united to the Word. Nor should it be thought that the demon would be restrained by his own loss; violent hatred so inflames and blinds minds that, scorning every danger and risk to themselves, they rush headlong to take vengeance. Moreover, does it not seem to belong to the curse under which the demon lies that, through his own efforts, he both promotes good and brings about the ruin of his own dominion, and yet does not cease to attack the kingdom of God—taught by his own ruin, yet taught in vain?
But what then of 1 Corinthians 2:8? If you accept what has just been said, you will say with many that in that passage the Apostle is not speaking of demons. For, as Cornely writes on that text (Commentary on 1 Corinthians, p. 60), Saint Chrysostom denies that demons are meant there; and the Greeks agree with him (Theodoret, John Damascene, Oecumenius, Theophylact), as do many of the older Latins (Pelagius, Primasius, Lyra, Benedict of Justiniani, Lapide, Tirinus, Natalis Alexander— to whom may be added Gagnaeus, Sa, Menochius, Gordon), and most moderns as well, including many non-Catholics. This view is strongly confirmed by the context itself. For the Apostle says that he does not speak the wisdom of this age, nor of the rulers of this age. It is readily understood that the Apostle denies teaching a wisdom such as philosophers and rhetoricians boast of, and which noblemen and rulers uniquely prize; but that he means he is not presenting demonic wisdom—I, for my part, cannot be brought to believe. If, therefore, the “rulers of this age” in verse 6 cannot be understood as demons, the same must hold for verse 8. Nor does it object that elsewhere demons are designated by such a name (2 Cor 4:4; Eph 2:2; John 12:31; 14:30), for there the context and what is added make it clear who is meant, and there the discourse concerns not many, but one. Moreover, it seems unlikely that philosophers, kings, and demons would be designated by the Apostle under one and the same common name—one not abstract (such as “powers of darkness”), but concrete, as grammarians say.
As Alb. notes, Christ’s power over the demon is shown both in his threat and in his command. He uses a threat because savage malice is not restrained except by fear of punishments. Mk 1:25: “And Jesus rebuked him”—ἐπετίμησεν—saying: “Be silent,” φιμώθητι, properly “be muzzled,” “let your mouth be shut with a muzzle,” “and come out of the man.” The demon is commanded to be silent, just as we command to be silent and to go away one whom we despise and with whom we wish to have no dealings. As Alb. says, he utters two commands against two actions: because he cried out, he says “be silent”; because he tormented, he says “come out of him.”
Various reasons are given why the demon is ordered to be silent. Even if the demon spoke truth, Christ did not wish testimony to be rendered to him by the father of lies (Euthymius); it belonged to the apostles to proclaim Christ, not to the demon; we are warned always to beware of the devil, even when he seems to speak truth; Christ avoided giving the Pharisees occasion to slander him as having dealings with a demon whose testimony he would accept; Christ did not wish his divinity and dignity to be proclaimed prematurely (cf. Toletus, Maldonatus, Lapide, Sylvius). Thus it is made clear how powerful Christ is, that he casts out the demon with a single word. To demonstrate his rage, the demon is permitted to give one final display, Mk 1:26: “And the unclean spirit, tearing him”—σπαράξαν, “throwing him about, twisting, convulsing”—or, as Luke 4:35 says, ῥίψαν, “having thrown him down in the midst”—“and crying out with a loud voice, came out of him.” This is permitted so that it might be manifest that there truly was a demon in the man and that it was the demon who had spoken (Victor, Cajetan), so that the malice of the demon and his indignation at being expelled might be evident, and so that the greatness of the miracle, by which the man was freed from so great an evil, might appear (Jansenius). But he is not permitted to cause harm, so that the power of the one expelling him might be shown (Euthymius); for Luke reports that he did him no harm. He goes out crying with a loud voice, either from pain, or compelled to cry out by Christ so that all might understand that he departed not by chance or of his own accord, but unwillingly and forced by a greater power (Maldonatus, Lapide).
To the admiration felt for Jesus’ teaching and manner of teaching there is added another, no less significant, admiration for his power. Thus, both by word and by deed Jesus begins to manifest himself. M1:27 (cf. v. 22 in many enumerations) says: and all were amazed — ἐθαμβήθησαν — they were filled with astonishment and admiration. The Greek verb signifies rather amazement and wonder than fear properly so called; this is the meaning it commonly has in Mark (cf. Mk 10:24, 39), as Schanz notes. Others, however, retain here also the notion of fear and dread, which the word can bear as well (Schegg, Bisping, Filograssi). Yet in that case one must say with Maldonatus and Sylveira that what is meant is not any kind of fear, but a religious fear joined with admiration, such as the righteous are wont to conceive when they behold the marvelous works of God.
This interior disposition of soul is then described in its outward expression and in human behavior: they began to question among themselves, mutually asking and addressing one another, as people stunned and bewildered are accustomed to do, saying: “What is this? What is this new teaching? For with authority he commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him!” In the Greek text the phrase is uttered as an exclamation: a new teaching! Since after καινή (new) there follows in Greek κατ᾽ ἐξουσίαν (with authority) and then καί κτλ., interpreters dispute to what the phrase with authority should be referred. Schanz, Keil, and Weiss refer it to the “new teaching,” and the Tübingen text punctuates accordingly. Schegg, Bisping, and Westcott–Hort connect it with what follows; and this latter view is recommended both by the facts themselves and by Luke’s narrative (Lk 4:36). For they had already marveled earlier at the fact that he taught with authority; but now they were witnesses that to this authority there was added another also, by which, with a single word, he commands demons and compels them, though unwilling, to obey.
This manner of casting out demons differed so greatly from the laborious practices of Jewish exorcists (Edersheim, vol. 1, p. 482) that it certainly provided them with new matter for recognizing and admiring his power. For Jesus did not stand out merely because he expelled demons — “by whom do your sons cast them out?” (Matt 12:27) — but because he expelled them in this way, with such authority. Therefore what they perceived to be proper and peculiar to Jesus, that too they must be judged to have exclaimed in wonder; and thus, with the Vulgate, it is better to refer with authority to what follows, as Luke also narrates the matter.
Since such great admiration had arisen among all, excited by a twofold cause, Mk 1:28 continues: and immediately his fame spread everywhere throughout the whole region of Galilee. For what people admire, about that they constantly spread talk among many. The phrase περίχωρος τῆς Γαλιλαίας (the surrounding region of Galilee) must not be explained as meaning a region extending around Galilee (as Meyer holds), because then there would be no mention of his fame spreading within Galilee itself, but rather of the entire region and territory of Galilee proper (Schanz, Weiss, etc.). Thus it indicates what is meant by “Galilee,” namely its surrounding districts, as Luke 4:37 has it: and the report about him was spreading into every place of the surrounding region (τῆς περιχώρου).
In the same order this narrative also follows in Luke 4:38. Christ therefore went from the synagogue into the house of Peter, and that this took place on the Sabbath is also clear from verse 32. Verse 29 says: and immediately, going out of the synagogue — εὐθύς (immediately). For this was the Lord’s custom: whenever he had become notable among the crowds by some miracle, he would almost always withdraw from them, content simply to have done good and not desirous of human glory, thus teaching us to strive rather to do good than to hunt after praise (Jansenius; similarly Schegg). They came into the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John; here too Mark narrates more precisely, naming Jesus’ companions.
By turning aside to Simon’s house he already bestows a special honor upon this disciple. For since such admiration had arisen among the people in the synagogue, the citizens of the town would certainly have regarded it as the highest honor if he had turned aside to any one of them, and indeed all would have been ready and eager to receive such a teacher into their homes with the greatest joy. Since Peter and Andrew were originally from Bethsaida (John 1:44), some inquire about their house in Capernaum. It hardly suffices to say that it was the house of Peter’s wife and became Peter’s through marriage — though this might seem plausible because his mother-in-law lived there — since it is called the house of Simon and Andrew. Nor does it fit what others have suggested, that it was merely a rented house for the more convenient selling of fish in the city. Therefore the plain sense of the words should be retained. Peter and Andrew, then, just as they pursued the work of fishing together, so also possessed a house in the city under a common title.
It is also futile to ask whether Peter’s mother-in-law had been suffering from fever the previous night or on that very day. For a clearer demonstration of the reality of the miracle, and for the gathering of the crowd that followed, it seems more fitting to hold that the illness was not of brief duration, but had afflicted the woman for a longer time, so that the seriousness of the disease was well known to all. Mk 1:30 says: now Simon’s mother-in-law lay ill with a fever, πυρέσσουσα (burning with fever), as if suffering from an intense fever. Luke also indicates a severe condition: ἦν συνεχομένη πυρετῷ μεγάλῳ (she was held fast by a great fever), which also seems to imply a prolonged illness. And immediately they told him about her. Who told him? The household members, say Schegg and Keil — though no explicit mention of them is made, and the manner of speaking may be taken in an indeterminate sense. Most, however, explain that it was the disciples who spoke, who, as Victor of Antioch says, already had experience of Christ’s power (similarly Sylveira).
CONTINUE
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