Scriptures, where Moses is not venerated as a liberator or founder of a religion, but more as the one on whose shoulders everyone who succeeds him stands.72 The reason for these distinctions, Rengstorf suggests, is that the religion of Israel is a religion of revelation. God reveals God’s will to the people through inspired stewards. Moses is one of them. He is presented as God’s minister (Exod 4:10–12), who acts on God’s behalf, not his own. His legislation comes from God, who is the Master or Teacher on whose name he, and the other stewards, speaks.73
But Rengstorf’s argument can be challenged on more than one count. First, even though the members of the prophetic guild enjoyed the same charismatic endowment, leadership was still recognized. Elisha calls Elijah “father” (2 Kgs 2:12) and the company of the prophets staying at Jericho refer to Elijah as Elisha’s “master” (2 Kgs 2:5). In the notes to the Harper Collins Study Bible, Robert Wilson states that “father” is a traditional title used for the head of a prophetic guild and also often used by a disciple speaking to a master.74 Secondly, one could say that Elisha’s petition to receive a double share of Elijah’s spirit points to Elisha’s special status as his successor, one who in many ways outshines his master. So even though the Spirit is equally distributed among all of the prophets, some have access to a privileged status by virtue of their relationship to the head of the guild. The other members of the prophetic guild recognize this when they say: “The spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha” (2 Kgs 2:15). Their recognition of Elisha’s leadership role follows immediately, for they “bowed to the ground before him” (2 Kgs 2:15). Thirdly, Rengstorf’s idea that the principle of tradition is absent in the Hebrew Bible may be true, but still Elisha starts his ministry invoking the power of Elijah. There is perhaps no desire to fulfill the master’s intention and to preserve his sayings, but certainly Elisha starts his prophetic ministry invoking the God of Elijah (2 Kgs 2:14). If not preservation of sayings, at least we could talk of continuation of ministries, as well as an acknowledgment of the same source of power.
When we consider Jesus’ ministry, the parallelisms are striking. First, by coming to John to be baptized he acknowledges John’s leadership. Second, by being recognized as the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit, his independence and supremacy over John is established. This is confirmed by the miracles performed by Jesus, which clearly outshines John, who is never said to have performed miracles. Thirdly, by calling God “Father,” Jesus acknowledges God as the Master and Teacher. He never calls John “father,” but invites his disciples to do so with God, thus placing himself at the same level with his co-disciples in identifying the God of Israel as the ultimate source of power. This language betrays a master-discipleship relation between God and the group of followers, of whom he is but another member. Rengstorf recognizes that Jesus’ call to discipleship represents a call to partnership in service, something that comes out in sayings (Matt 5:13–16; John 17:13–15), parables (Matt 25:14–30), and specific directions (Matt 10:5–15; Mark 6:6b–13).75
The term μαθητής is also missing in the LXX. This means that the only literary source for its usage in the gospels is the Greek environment, where it is used to denote the idea of pupil, one engaged in learning in relationship to a teacher. In a broader sense, we also find it used as pointing to an intellectual link between people who are not in direct physical relationship but rather distant in time as, for example, Socrates being a disciple of Homer.76 But among philosophers, the term is highly nuanced. It is used to talk about a pupil, which simply refers to someone who gains knowledge or skill under expert direction. When understood in this way, μαθητής is used alongside other terms that ensure the independence and dignity of the student.77 It is also used to denote a master-disciple relationship. This usage of the term is especially important for Socrates, Plato, and the Academy. The goal of these philosophers is not information for a fee, but more the idea of a fellowship where the teacher/master offers himself, rather than his knowledge. This is reinforced by the practice of common meals. In Plato’s Academy, for example, this is a salient feature, and the director is regarded as the first among equals.78
The Mystery religions provide another context for the master-disciple relationship. Here, both the learning that takes place, as well as the master’s personality, are secondary to the main purpose, which is that the initiate may enter into fellowship with the deity. Accordingly, the term μαθητής is not used.79
Perhaps the closest resemblance to the idea of discipleship in the NT is what happens with some of the philosophers of the Greek and Hellenistic world such as Pythagoras, Epicurus, and Apollonius. In each of these cases, the person of the philosopher acquires great relevance, sometimes even to the point of being considered a god or at least more than human, whereby their disciples develop a sense of being a religious and moral community committed to spreading the fame of the founder.80 Many of these groups associated with great teachers continued even after the death of their leaders, forming religious unions with the responsibility of presenting the leader’s ideas and concerns to the wider world. Rengstorf says that “loyalty to the teaching of the master finds expression in the principle of tradition, i.e., the desire to fulfill his intentions and preserve his sayings.”81 This is exemplified especially by the Epicureans and the Stoics who took special care in handling down their teachers’ sayings, even though this was done without an explicit reference to παράδοσις as the actual process of transmission, which at this time was generally accepted in practice.82
The Rabbinic movement, which came after the birth of the gospel traditions, made use of the term talmid to refer to someone who is a student of Scripture and its interpretation. Though, ideally, every Israelite is to study the law under God as the supreme Teacher, it is only some who actually become experts in the law and constitute a sort of guild where people are admitted by ordination and who offer authoritative answers to disputed matters.83 These are the ones referred to as talmid. The term designates a member of a school or tradition who is bound to obedience and submission to a teacher for whom the student performs even menial tasks. The school develops out of a specific teacher’s interpretation of the law and these teachers may at times hold opposing views. An example of such is the schools of Hillel and Shammai. The teachers, rabbis, are thus engaged in a rereading or reappropriation of the traditions, and this becomes the distinctive mark of that particular school. But no rabbi can go beyond what the law teaches, and especially beyond Moses, who is regarded as the absolute teacher. The law is the supreme authority and this limits the authority of individual teachers.84 Even though Moses always remains a mediator of the divine will, the emphasis on his person is akin with how the philosophical schools treated their founders. Therefore, concludes Rengstorf, there are obvious Hellenistic influences in the rabbinic movement’s conceptualization of the teacher-disciple relationship, an influence that can be seen even in the writings of Josephus who calls Joshua the μαθητής of Moses and Elisha the μαθητής of Elijah, and describes the four sects of the Judaism of his time as philosophical schools.85
The question for our enquiry is: which are the particular influences behind Mark’s use of the word μαθητής, and what might he mean by that. A number of things need to be pointed out:
First, Mark writes for a Greek-speaking audience, which may have been familiar with the teacher-disciple relationship of the Hellenistic world. When they read about Jesus having disciples, they would immediately connect with this tradition. But then Mark goes on to tell a story in which this relationship is qualified and fleshed out.
Second, Mark engages the prophetic tradition of the Hebrew Scriptures by mentioning Elijah and utilizing parts of the books of Daniel and Isaiah. He refers to John the Baptist as the Elijah who was to come and makes Jesus initially subservient to John in a teacher-disciple relationship. Then Mark goes on to show Jesus’ superiority to John, while still making Jesus subservient to a higher vision, that of God’s kingdom, into which he calls people as disciples to help him construct this vision.
Third, Mark writes before the arrival of the rabbinic age, but during a time when the teachings of famous rabbis such as Paul of Tarsus, Hillel, and Shammai were widely known. He may have evaluated these great rabbis as teachers and his followers as disciples who
