And so on every page there is something that betrays in Mark a very bad man of letters, and at the same time confirms the authenticity of his Gospel in a special way.

Both Mark (9:17-27), Matthew (17:14-18), and Luke (9:38-42) describe the healing of an epileptic boy. In the Gospel of Mark, the father, having come to Jesus, asks to heal his son, describing in detail the attacks in the child: "Wherever he seizes him, he throws him to the ground, and he foams and gnashes his teeth and becomes numb." Then there is a dialogue that is found only in the Gospel of Mark: "And Jesus asked his father, How long ago was this done to him? He said, "From childhood; and many times the spirit threw him into fire and water to destroy him; but if you can, have pity on us and help us. Jesus said to him, "If you can believe a little, all things are possible to him who believes." And immediately the father of the lad cried out with tears: "I believe, O Lord! help my unbelief" (9:21-24).

We all know that last phrase. For many, it has become a personal prayer, because often our faith—in its depths—is just a poorly disguised unbelief. And from this unbelief of ours we break through to true faith, repeating after the boy's father: "I believe, Lord! help my unbelief!" His account of the healing of the boy is not as concise as Matthew's, nor is it as literary perfection as Luke's. But precisely because of its artlessness and authenticity, it has preserved a phrase that both Matthew and Luke have lost: "I believe, O Lord! help my unbelief."

Let's recall another episode. The Savior and his disciples come to the walls of Jerusalem... Jesus triumphantly rides into Jerusalem on a donkey, as if fulfilling the prophecy of Zechariah. And the apostles found this donkey "tied at the gate in the street" (Mark 11:4). In three words, an exhaustive description is given: at the gate of the house, but not inside the yard, but behind the fence, outside. From the point of view of what the Savior wants to convey to us, it makes no difference where exactly the donkey was - outside or inside, on the street or in the alley, at the gate or at the window. But these details in the Gospel of Mark involve not only our hearts, but also our eyes, which is not always the case in the texts.

One more example. Jesus heals the daughter of a Syrophoenician (or Canaanite) woman, the same woman who, in response to the Savior's words that "it is not good to take bread from the children and throw it to the dogs," exclaims: "But even the dogs under the table eat the crumbs of the children" (Mark 7:28). After healing the girl, Jesus sends the mother home. "And when she came to her house, she found that the demon had gone out, and that her daughter was lying on the bed" (Mark 7:30). It is as if we enter her house together with this woman and see a girl lying on the bed... Matthew's account of this event is much more detailed than Mark's, but the episode ends more neutrally: "And her daughter was healed in that hour" (Matthew 15:28).

Mark very often gives complete information for our eyes. Here is Jesus, together with the apostles, going in the direction of Jerusalem; Mark notes, "Jesus went ahead of them" (10:32). Again, it would seem, a remark, theologically insignificant, but it helps to see how they are walking: Jesus is in front, and behind Him, a little farther away, are the apostles. Christ is always ahead. We're always lagging behind Him.

Mark, unlike the other Evangelists, has quite a few Aramaic words: "tapitha 'kumi'" (5:41), Jesus says to the daughter of Jairus ("Virgin, I say to you, arise") and "ephathah" (7:35), that is, "Be opened!" to the deaf and tongue-tied who is being healed. The blind Bartimaeus addresses Jesus also in Aramaic: 'Rabbi'" (10:51). The Synodal translation, unlike the one made under the editorship of Bishop Cassian, did not preserve this Aramaic address and gave the version: "Teacher."

In the Gethsemane prayer, Jesus prays, "Abba Father." The Savior pronounces His "Abba" (Father), and immediately Mark translates this word into Greek – Father (14:36). Finally, the last words of the Savior on the Cross: "Eloi'! Eloi'! lama 'savakhthani'?" — which means: "My God! My god! why hast thou forsaken me?" (15:34). It was Mark who preserved elements of the Aramaic language.

There is one more place in the Gospel of Mark that should be paid attention to. Jesus, already captured, is led into the courtyard of the high priest. "A certain young man, wrapped in a veil over his naked body, followed Him; and the soldiers seized him. But he, leaving the veil, fled naked from them" (14:51-52).

Who is this young man? It was once suggested that the evangelist captured himself in this figure. I always compare the Gospel text with an icon. Just as in an icon the master often depicts himself somewhere on the side, so here it is quite likely that a self-portrait will appear — as if in the margins of the Gospel text.

He, this young man, was wrapped in a veil over his naked body. Why? You have to think about the situation. Probably, when this young man was about to go to bed, he witnessed something unusual, jumped out of bed, wrapped himself in whatever came to hand, and rushed after Jesus and the apostles. Perhaps he was a witness to the Last Supper, perhaps he saw Jesus go with the disciples to the Garden of Gethsemane and then pray there, or how He was captured. In any case, the brief remark "wrapped in a veil over the naked body" is further proof that we are dealing with authentic testimony in the Gospel of Mark. Moreover, the author (or authors) values every detail, even the smallest and at first glance insignificant.

When the Gospel of Mark was read from this angle in the first decades of the twentieth century, the opinion immediately arose that it was simply a testimony, a document, a haphazard set of facts—genuine, fresh, and unprocessed. Therefore, this is a very good initial witness to the gospel preaching. But when you start reading Mark more carefully, you realize that at the same time this is a text that is quite well thought out from beginning to end. Hundreds and hundreds of fragments of the Gospel of Mark have come down to us, written down for personal use on small pieces of papyrus. These fragments are quotations of the text that we read today. That is, there were no drafts. An important conclusion can be drawn: like the Gospel of Matthew, the text of Mark was written in a ready-made form. These are not random notes or memoir sketches of a witness, but a well-memorized sermon, initially imprinted in the memory of dozens of people, when at first everything fell into place, and then it was written down. It is a sermon that has been passed down by word of mouth, in which (without compromising its authenticity) there is a clear intention. And it is easy to detect.

How does the Gospel of Mark begin? "The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God..." (1:1) How does Mark's account of Jesus' death on the Cross end? The centurion, standing near the Cross, exclaims: "... Truly this man was the Son of God" (15:39). In the first chapter, when the Epiphany is described, a voice from heaven says: "Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased" (1:11). The same theme is heard in the question of the high priest: "Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?" (14:61). And Peter, to Christ's question: "And whom do you say that I am?" answers: "You are the Christ" (8:29).

Probably, it is this verse that should be considered the core verse (it is located just in the middle of the Gospel). Prior to this exclamation of Peter, "Thou art the Christ," one important theme was highlighted in the Gospel. It is necessary to dwell on it.