Mark Chapter 2
Controversy with Religious Leaders
A. The Power of Jesus to Forgive and to Heal
Mark 2:1-4
“And again He entered Capernaum after some days, and it was heard that He was in the house. Immediately many gathered together, so that there was no longer room to receive them, not even near the door. And He preached the word to them. Then they came to Him, bringing a paralytic who was carried by four men. And when they could not come near Him because of the crowd, they uncovered the roof where He was. So when they had broken through, they let down the bed on which the paralytic was lying.”
When Jesus returned to Capernaum after some days, word quickly spread that He was in the house, possibly Peter’s home. Mark emphasizes action, and the report that Jesus was present caused such a stir that the house was filled to capacity, with people crowding not only inside but also around the doorway. As in Mark 1:28, the fame of Jesus had already spread throughout the region due to His miracles and authority, drawing multitudes wherever He went.
Mark notes, “And He preached the word to them.” The emphasis is on Jesus’ primary mission—proclaiming the truth of God’s Word (Isaiah 55:11)—even though His ministry was often accompanied by miraculous healings. As one commentator observed, Jesus deliberately avoided becoming merely a healer in the eyes of the people. While compassion motivated His miracles, His greater purpose was to preach repentance and the coming of the kingdom (Mark 1:38-39).
The scene is interrupted by the arrival of four men carrying a paralytic. The term “palsy” (Greek paralutikos) describes one “without strength,” symbolizing the helplessness of mankind in sin, as described in Romans 5:6: “For when we were still without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly.” In the Old Testament, healing and forgiveness were often connected (Psalm 103:3; Isaiah 58:8), pointing to the deeper reality that sin is the root cause of humanity’s misery.
Because the house was so crowded, these men could not reach Jesus through the door. Instead, they went up the external staircase to the flat roof, which was typically made of beams covered with thatch, clay, or tile. Removing part of the roof was no small act; Mark’s wording suggests they broke through the covering to make an opening large enough to lower the man down. This was a bold and unconventional interruption of the sermon. Their determination demonstrated both urgency and faith—they fully expected Jesus to heal their friend. As G. Campbell Morgan noted, this was not a matter of carefully peeling away the roof, but tearing it open to get the man directly into Jesus’ presence.
This action reflected deep confidence in Jesus’ ability to heal. They did not plan for an alternative method of removing the man from the house, implying that they expected him to walk out on his own once Jesus healed him. Such faith was visible, tangible, and active—faith that Jesus would soon commend.
Mark 2:5-7
“When Jesus saw their faith, He said to the paralytic, ‘Son, your sins are forgiven you.’ And some of the scribes were sitting there and reasoning in their hearts, ‘Why does this Man speak blasphemies like this? Who can forgive sins but God alone?’”
When Jesus looked at the paralytic and his four friends, He “saw their faith.” Faith in this context was not an abstract belief, but an active, visible trust in Christ. These men did not merely say they believed— they demonstrated it by their determined, sacrificial effort to bring their friend to Jesus. Mark’s vivid narrative suggests Jesus looked up at the roof, saw the crude ropes tied to each corner of the stretcher, and recognized that this act was born out of confidence in His power. Faith can be seen in action, and here it was unmistakable.
Jesus then addressed the man directly, saying, “Son, your sins are forgiven you.” This was likely not what the friends expected. Their goal had been to see their companion healed physically, yet Jesus began by addressing the man’s spiritual condition. To the human eye, paralysis appeared to be the man’s greatest need, but Jesus knew the deeper reality: the man’s ultimate problem was sin, the root cause of all suffering in the world. As He taught elsewhere, it is of no eternal value for a person to gain physical wholeness but perish spiritually. What good would it be for the man to walk out of that house on two strong legs only to walk into eternal condemnation? Jesus therefore dealt first with the eternal, not the temporal.
This statement does not imply that the paralytic’s condition was caused by personal sin, nor that he was more sinful than others. Rather, Jesus was confronting the universal human problem—our separation from God because of sin. As Romans 3:23 declares, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” By pronouncing forgiveness, Jesus claimed authority over sin itself, a prerogative belonging to God alone.
Forgiveness is indeed the greatest miracle Jesus performs. As one commentator observed, it meets humanity’s greatest need, costs the greatest price—the shedding of Christ’s own blood—brings the greatest blessing of reconciliation with God, and yields the most enduring results, for forgiveness is eternal.
The scribes, seated among the crowd, silently reasoned in their hearts, “Why does this Man speak blasphemies like this? Who can forgive sins but God alone?” In their reasoning, they were actually correct in two key points: first, only God can forgive sins; second, this was a serious claim that demanded examination. However, their error lay in failing to recognize that Jesus is indeed God the Son, possessing the divine authority to forgive.
Their inner reaction likely followed a progression: initial surprise at His words, then a sense of impropriety, and finally a conclusion that His statement must be blasphemous. As has often been observed, throughout His ministry Jesus forced this same dilemma upon His hearers: either He is divine, or He is guilty of blasphemy—there is no middle ground. Neutrality toward Christ’s claims is impossible.
Mark 2:8-12
“But immediately, when Jesus perceived in His spirit that they reasoned thus within themselves, He said to them, ‘Why do you reason about these things in your hearts? Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, “Your sins are forgiven you,” or to say, “Arise, take up your bed and walk”? But that you may know that the Son of Man has power on earth to forgive sins’—He said to the paralytic, ‘I say to you, arise, take up your bed, and go to your house.’ Immediately he arose, took up the bed, and went out in the presence of them all, so that all were amazed and glorified God, saying, ‘We never saw anything like this!’”
When Jesus “perceived in His spirit” the unspoken thoughts of the scribes, He exposed the inner reasoning of their hearts. This ability to know their silent objections was itself a sign of His divine nature, for as Psalm 94:11 declares, “The Lord knows the thoughts of man, that they are futile,” and as Psalm 139:2 affirms, “You understand my thought afar off.” This revelation should have been enough to shake their opposition, for it placed them face-to-face with a man who could read their hearts as only God can.
Jesus then confronted their skepticism with a challenge: “Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven you,’ or to say, ‘Arise, take up your bed and walk’?” For men, both forgiveness and miraculous healing are impossible. For God, both are effortless. In one sense, forgiving sins was “easier” in that it was invisible—there was no immediate outward proof. Healing a paralytic, however, was immediately verifiable. By choosing to heal the man in plain sight, Jesus offered undeniable, physical evidence of His authority to forgive sins. As the rabbis themselves taught, “There is no sick man healed of his sickness until all his sins have been forgiven him.” If the man could now walk, then—by their own theology—he must be forgiven, proving Jesus’ claim.
Jesus also referred to Himself here as “the Son of Man,” a title drawn from Daniel 7:13-14, where the Messiah is depicted as the divine figure to whom the Ancient of Days gives everlasting dominion and glory. It was a Messianic title free from the political and military overtones of “Messiah” or “King” in the minds of His hearers. By using it, Jesus made a claim to be the promised Redeemer in language that avoided immediate political misunderstanding, yet clearly identified Him as the One who would one day come in judgment and power.
The moment of truth came as Jesus turned to the paralytic and said, “I say to you, arise, take up your bed, and go to your house.” The command was simple, but it carried the full weight of divine authority. Imagine the tension: the scribes waiting for Jesus to fail, the paralytic wondering if he truly could rise, the friends on the roof holding their breath, and perhaps even the homeowner anxiously thinking about the damaged roof. Yet there was no hesitation in the Lord’s voice. At once, the man was healed—strength flooded his limbs, and he rose, picked up his bed, and walked out in front of the entire crowd.
The result was immediate and overwhelming: “All were amazed and glorified God, saying, ‘We never saw anything like this!’” The physical healing was undeniable proof of the spiritual reality—this man’s sins had been forgiven. The scribes’ own logic had turned against them; if the healing proved forgiveness, then Jesus’ claim to forgive sins must be true. This miracle not only validated His divine authority but also demonstrated the perfect unity of His mission: to restore both body and soul.
Mark 2:13-14
“Then He went out again by the sea; and all the multitude came to Him, and He taught them. As He passed by, He saw Levi the son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax office. And He said to him, ‘Follow Me.’ So he arose and followed Him.”
After the dramatic healing of the paralytic, Jesus went out once again to the Sea of Galilee. As before, the multitudes gathered to Him, and He faithfully fulfilled the central focus of His ministry by teaching them. This was in keeping with His own stated mission in Mark 1:38: “Let us go into the next towns, that I may preach there also, because for this purpose I have come forth.” Jesus never allowed the demands of the crowd, or even the fame of His miracles, to distract Him from the primary work of proclaiming the Word of God.
As He passed by, Jesus saw Levi, also known as Matthew (Matthew 9:9), the son of Alphaeus, sitting at the tax office. This was no ordinary occupation. In the first-century Jewish world, tax collectors were among the most despised members of society. They were considered traitors for collaborating with Rome, the occupying pagan power. They served under the authority of the Roman government, with the backing of Roman soldiers, enforcing the collection of taxes from their own people. To the Jews, they were the most visible symbols of oppression and compromise.
Tax collectors were also rightly considered extortioners. The Roman tax system was based on the principle of tax farming. A tax collector would bid for the right to collect taxes in a given district. The highest bidder secured the contract, agreeing to deliver a fixed sum to Rome, and anything he collected above that amount was his to keep. This arrangement gave them a powerful financial incentive to overcharge and cheat, squeezing as much as possible from the people for personal gain.
Because of this, tax collectors were socially and religiously ostracized. As one historian notes, when a Jew entered the customs service, he was regarded as an outcast from society. He was disqualified from serving as a judge or witness in court, was excommunicated from the synagogue, and his disgrace extended to his entire family. Their reputation was so corrupt that “tax collector” and “sinner” became almost synonymous in Jewish discourse (cf. Matthew 9:10-11).
Into this setting came the words of Jesus: “Follow Me.” That He would call such a man is a remarkable display of His love and grace. Jesus was not bound by the prejudices of society; He looked at Levi not for what he was, but for what he could become as a follower of Christ. Levi’s response was immediate—he arose and followed Him. This decision involved great personal sacrifice. For fishermen like Peter, James, and John, returning to their trade was possible if discipleship did not work out. But for Levi, leaving his post at the tax office meant leaving behind a lucrative and secure position. Tax collector jobs were highly sought after, promising quick wealth. To abandon such a post was to burn bridges permanently. Yet Levi left it all without hesitation, testifying to the compelling authority of Jesus’ call.
Mark 2:15-17
“Now it happened, as He was dining in Levi’s house, that many tax collectors and sinners also sat together with Jesus and His disciples; for there were many, and they followed Him. And when the scribes and Pharisees saw Him eating with the tax collectors and sinners, they said to His disciples, ‘How is it that He eats and drinks with tax collectors and sinners?’ When Jesus heard it, He said to them, ‘Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance.’”
After answering the call to follow Christ, Levi hosted a banquet at his home, inviting many of his fellow tax collectors and others labeled “sinners” by society. This gathering was likely a farewell feast, marking his departure from the tax office. In that culture, sharing a meal was more than physical nourishment—it was a sign of acceptance, fellowship, and relationship. To eat with someone was to identify with them on a personal level. Jesus’ presence at Levi’s table was therefore a public declaration that He had come to seek the lost, not to isolate Himself from them.
The text notes, “for there were many, and they followed Him.” These “tax collectors and sinners” were drawn to Jesus because He treated them with dignity and compassion. Unlike the religious elite who shunned them, Jesus extended friendship without condoning sin, offering the hope of forgiveness and transformation. This willingness to enter into the world of the outcast and rejected was one of the hallmarks of His ministry.
The scribes and Pharisees, upon seeing this, were scandalized. The Pharisees’ very name meant “separated ones,” reflecting their commitment to remain apart from anything they deemed unclean. They considered themselves spiritually superior, and their separation extended to avoiding social contact with those they viewed as defiled or beyond the reach of God’s love. Eating with sinners, in their eyes, meant moral compromise. They therefore confronted Jesus indirectly through His disciples, questioning, “How is it that He eats and drinks with tax collectors and sinners?”
Jesus’ reply was simple yet profound: “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.” In this analogy, sin is a spiritual disease, and Jesus is the Great Physician. It is the sick, not the healthy, who require a doctor. He then stated His mission plainly: “I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance.” The “righteous” here refers to those who consider themselves without need—self-righteous individuals blind to their own sin. Those who recognize their spiritual sickness are the ones who respond to His invitation.
Jesus is the perfect physician of the soul:
• He is always available.
• He makes a perfect diagnosis.
• He provides a complete and permanent cure.
• He pays the full cost of the treatment through His own sacrifice.
This moment highlights the contrast between the exclusivity of religious pride and the inclusivity of God’s saving grace. The Pharisees’ self-imposed separation from sinners reflected a misunderstanding of God’s heart, while Jesus’ presence at Levi’s table perfectly illustrated His mission to seek and save the lost.
Mark 2:18-20
“The disciples of John and of the Pharisees were fasting. Then they came and said to Him, ‘Why do the disciples of John and of the Pharisees fast, but Your disciples do not fast?’ And Jesus said to them, ‘Can the friends of the bridegroom fast while the bridegroom is with them? As long as they have the bridegroom with them they cannot fast. But the days will come when the bridegroom will be taken away from them, and then they will fast in those days.’”
The question arose when the disciples of John the Baptist and those of the Pharisees were observed fasting, while Jesus’ disciples were not. The Pharisees were known for their rigorous religious practices, including fasting twice a week (Luke 18:12). For the followers of John, fasting aligned with the tone of his ministry, which emphasized repentance and preparation for the coming Messiah. By contrast, Jesus and His disciples did not emphasize fasting in the same way, which puzzled and even offended some observers.
The Lord’s response reframed the entire discussion: “Can the friends of the bridegroom fast while the bridegroom is with them?” Here, Jesus employed a familiar Jewish image—the joy of a wedding feast. In first-century Jewish culture, weddings lasted a full week, and during that time, celebration was the rule. The presence of the bridegroom was a cause for joy, not mourning. In fact, some rabbis taught that participation in a wedding feast could temporarily exempt one from certain religious duties, even from the observance of fasting, because joy was to be given priority during such a time. As Adam Clarke noted, marriage feasts in the East were often marked by extraordinary festivity.
By using this image, Jesus made a bold and unmistakable claim: He identified Himself as the Bridegroom, a title associated in the Old Testament with God Himself as the covenant partner of Israel (Isaiah 54:5; Hosea 2:19-20). In essence, He was declaring that His presence marked the arrival of a new and joyous era. Just as it would be unthinkable for guests to fast at a wedding, so it was inappropriate for His disciples to fast while He, the Bridegroom, was with them.
However, Jesus also acknowledged that “the days will come when the bridegroom will be taken away from them, and then they will fast in those days.” This is the first hint in Mark’s Gospel of His coming death and departure. When His physical presence would be removed, fasting would again have its place in the life of His followers. This implies that while fasting is not the constant state of the believer, it remains a vital discipline in the appropriate season—particularly in times of seeking God, expressing repentance, or longing for His presence.
Mark 2:21-22
“No one sews a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old garment; or else the new piece pulls away from the old, and the tear is made worse. And no one puts new wine into old wineskins; or else the new wine bursts the wineskins, the wine is spilled, and the wineskins are ruined. But new wine must be put into new wineskins.”
Following His teaching on fasting, Jesus gave two brief parables that illustrated the incompatibility of His mission with the rigid traditions of the Pharisees and the old religious system. The first example is that of sewing a patch of unshrunk cloth onto an old garment. In ancient times, new, unshrunk cloth would contract when washed, pulling against the older, already-shrunken fabric and making the tear worse. The image was straightforward: trying to combine the new reality Jesus brought with the old framework of legalism would result in greater damage, not repair.
The second example used a common feature of first-century life—wineskins. New wine, still fermenting, would release gases, causing expansion. New wineskins, made from pliable goat hide, could stretch to accommodate this pressure. Old wineskins, however, had already been stretched to their limit; they were dry, brittle, and inflexible. Pouring new wine into them would cause them to split, ruining both the skins and the wine.
The spiritual principle was unmistakable. Jesus did not come merely to patch up the old forms of Judaism with a few moral improvements. His coming marked the arrival of something completely new—a new covenant, a new way of life, and a new way of relating to God. His message of grace, joy, and kingdom life could not be contained within the rigid structures of Pharisaic legalism. He was replacing fasting with feasting, sackcloth with a robe of righteousness, mourning with joy, and the burden of law with the liberty of grace (Isaiah 61:1-3).
Through the centuries, this truth has played out repeatedly: when the work of the Holy Spirit begins to move in fresh ways, old, rigid systems often cannot contain it. The history of revival shows that God frequently chooses “new wineskins”—new movements, new methods, and renewed hearts—to carry forward His purposes. This does not mean the law was discarded; rather, it was fulfilled. As Jesus Himself said in Matthew 5:17, “Do not think that I came to destroy the Law or the Prophets. I did not come to destroy but to fulfill.” The old covenant had served its purpose, much like an acorn fulfills its purpose when it becomes an oak tree. In Christ, that purpose reached its intended goal in the greatness of the new covenant.
Mark 2:23-24
“Now it happened that He went through the grainfields on the Sabbath; and as they went His disciples began to pluck the heads of grain. And the Pharisees said to Him, ‘Look, why do they do what is not lawful on the Sabbath?’”
As Jesus and His disciples traveled through the grainfields on the Sabbath, the disciples began to pluck heads of grain, rub them in their hands, and eat the kernels. According to Deuteronomy 23:25, “When you come into your neighbor’s standing grain, you may pluck the heads with your hand, but you shall not use a sickle on your neighbor’s standing grain.” This law permitted such gleaning and made it clear that what the disciples were doing was not stealing. The issue, therefore, was not the act itself but the timing—doing it on the Sabbath.
In the eyes of the Pharisees, the disciples’ actions constituted work and violated their Sabbath regulations. The rabbinic tradition had expanded the Sabbath commandment into an elaborate web of 39 categories of forbidden activities, each with countless sub-rules. In this case, the disciples were accused of breaking four separate Sabbath prohibitions: reaping (picking the grain), threshing (rubbing it in their hands), winnowing (blowing away the chaff), and preparing food (eating it). None of these were violations of God’s original command, but they were violations of the Pharisees’ man-made interpretations.
By the time of Jesus, Sabbath observance had been buried under layers of legalistic traditions. The Mishnah and Talmud recorded elaborate and often absurd restrictions. For example, a man could not carry an object in his right or left hand, across his chest, or on his shoulder, but could carry it on the back of his hand, with his foot, elbow, ear, hair, hem of his garment, or in his shoe or sandal. Tying knots was generally forbidden, except that a woman could tie a knot in her girdle; therefore, if someone needed to draw water from a well, one could not tie a rope to the bucket, but a woman could tie her girdle to the bucket and use that to draw the water.
The Pharisees’ accusation, “Look, why do they do what is not lawful on the Sabbath?” reveals their mindset: they equated their human traditions with God’s law. Jesus never violated the divine command to keep the Sabbath holy, nor did He encourage His disciples to do so. However, He consistently refused to submit to the legalistic distortions that obscured God’s intent. In fact, He often intentionally acted in ways that challenged these traditions, using such occasions to teach the true purpose of the Sabbath—that it was made for man’s blessing and rest, not as a burden of oppressive regulations.
Mark 2:25-28
“But He said to them, ‘Have you never read what David did when he was in need and hungry, he and those with him: how he went into the house of God in the days of Abiathar the high priest, and ate the showbread, which is not lawful to eat except for the priests, and also gave some to those who were with him?’ And He said to them, ‘The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath. Therefore the Son of Man is also Lord of the Sabbath.’”
In response to the Pharisees’ accusation, Jesus pointed them back to Scripture, citing the account in 1 Samuel 21:1-6. David, fleeing from King Saul and in desperate need, entered the house of God and asked for bread. The only bread available was the consecrated showbread, set apart for the priests according to the law in Leviticus 24:5-9. Ahimelech, the high priest, gave it to David and his men to meet their immediate physical need. By referencing this incident, Jesus underscored a crucial principle: human need takes precedence over ceremonial regulation. God’s laws were given for man’s benefit, not to cause harm or to deny mercy.
This principle strikes at the heart of the Pharisees’ legalism. They elevated ritual above compassion, forgetting that God Himself declares, “For I desire mercy and not sacrifice, and the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings” (Hosea 6:6), and that the sacrifices God values are “a broken spirit, a broken and a contrite heart” (Psalm 51:17). Isaiah 58:6-7 also emphasizes that true worship is expressed through acts of justice, mercy, and care for the oppressed—not through empty ritual.
The reference to “the days of Abiathar the high priest” has raised interpretive questions, since 1 Samuel 21:1 identifies Ahimelech as high priest during that event, with Abiathar, his son, serving later (1 Samuel 22:20; 1 Chronicles 18:16). Several explanations have been proposed:
• Some suggest that father and son may have served together as co-high priests during that period.
• Others propose that “in the days of Abiathar” refers to the broader era of Abiathar’s life and prominence, not necessarily his term as high priest.
• Wiersbe offers another possibility—that “Abiathar” functioned as a reference point for identifying the Old Testament passage, much as Jews would name a section of Scripture after a key figure since their manuscripts lacked our modern chapter-and-verse divisions.
Jesus then moved from principle to authority: “The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath.” This statement reorients the Sabbath command to its original divine intent. The Sabbath was instituted as a gift to humanity—a day of rest, worship, and refreshment (Genesis 2:2-3; Exodus 20:8-11). Any application of Sabbath law that harms man, burdens him, or deprives him of mercy runs counter to God’s purpose. As G. Campbell Morgan observed, “Any application of the Sabbath Law which operates to the detriment of man is out of harmony with God’s purpose.”
Finally, Jesus declared, “Therefore the Son of Man is also Lord of the Sabbath.” This was an even more radical claim. By calling Himself “Lord of the Sabbath,” Jesus asserted His authority over one of the most sacred institutions in Jewish life. If He—the divine Messiah foretold in Daniel 7:13-14—was not offended by His disciples’ actions, then neither should the Pharisees have been. In this statement, Jesus not only defended His disciples but also revealed His divine prerogative to define the meaning and application of the Sabbath itself.
