Commentary - Mark 9:38-50

Bird's-eye view

This section of Mark’s Gospel is a potent cocktail of warnings about the nature of true discipleship, delivered by Jesus immediately after He has once again taught on the necessity of humble, childlike faith. The disciples, still jockeying for position and defining their in-group, exhibit a classic sectarian spirit, which Jesus promptly corrects. He then pivots from the danger of excluding a true ally to the far greater danger of causing a true believer to sin. The warnings that follow are among the most severe and visceral in all of Scripture, employing graphic hyperbole, amputating limbs, gouging out eyes, and the horror of a millstone drowning, to illustrate the absolute priority of spiritual integrity over any earthly comfort or completeness. The passage concludes with enigmatic statements about salt and fire, which, when understood through their Old Testament sacrificial context, tie everything together. The theme is this: the kingdom of God is a deadly serious business. Petty rivalries are foolish, causing others to stumble is damnable, and personal holiness must be pursued with a radical, ruthless intensity. All of this is grounded in the reality of eternal judgment, a reality that should make us zealous for peace within the church and war within our own sinful hearts.

Jesus is laying out the stark choices that confront every disciple. You can either be for Him or against Him; there is no neutral ground. You can either protect the faith of the "little ones" or face a judgment worse than a violent death. You can either kill your sin or your sin will land you in a place where the killing never stops. The fire of God will be applied to everyone: for the unrepentant, it is the preserving fire of judgment in Gehenna; for the believer, it is the purifying fire of sanctification, which makes us salty sacrifices, acceptable to God and at peace with one another.


Outline


Context In Mark

This passage follows directly on the heels of Jesus setting a child in the midst of the disciples to teach them that the greatest in the kingdom is the servant of all (Mark 9:33-37). The disciples’ question about the strange exorcist shows they missed the point entirely. They are still thinking in terms of status, hierarchy, and who is in their exclusive club. Jesus’ warnings here are thus a direct rebuke to their pride. This entire section, beginning with the second passion prediction (Mark 9:30-32), is part of a larger block of teaching on the cost and nature of discipleship as Jesus makes His way toward Jerusalem and the cross. The severity of the language about stumbling and hell serves to heighten the stakes. The cross is looming, and Jesus is impressing upon His followers that the path of discipleship is not one of earthly glory but of radical self-denial and uncompromising holiness.


Key Issues


The Non-Negotiables of Discipleship

The disciples are operating according to a very common human impulse: tribalism. They have their group, their leader, and their credentials, and this other fellow is an unauthorized freelancer. They see him as competition, or perhaps as a theological poacher. But Jesus completely reframes the situation. The central issue is not whether someone is "following us," but whether he is acting in the name of Christ and against the kingdom of darkness. Jesus forces them to see a bigger picture. The line is not drawn between "our group" and "their group." The line is drawn between those who are for Christ and those who are against Him.

This flows directly into the warnings that follow. If the disciples are so concerned about policing the boundaries of their ministry, they had better first pay attention to the moral and spiritual state of those already inside. Protecting the flock from external poaching is one thing, but poisoning the flock from within is a far more grievous sin. Jesus uses the most extreme language to show that what God values is the tender faith of a new believer. To harm that is to invite the most extreme judgment. And the only way to ensure we do not harm others is to be absolutely ruthless with the sin in our own lives. The man who is casual about his own sin will inevitably be a stumbling block to others. The man who is cutting off his own hands and feet has no time for petty turf wars.


Verse by Verse Commentary

38 John said to Him, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in Your name, and we tried to hinder him because he was not following us.”

John, the apostle of love, here shows a flash of sectarian zeal. He and the others had come across an independent operator successfully doing the work of the kingdom, casting out demons, and their first instinct was to shut him down. Their reasoning was simple and bureaucratic: "he was not following us." He wasn't part of the authorized inner circle. They assumed that a valid ministry required formal affiliation with their particular group. This is the seed of all denominational pride and institutional arrogance. They had begun to think that the kingdom of God was their franchise.

39-40 But Jesus said, “Do not hinder him, for there is no one who will perform a miracle in My name, and be able soon afterward to speak evil of Me. For he who is not against us is for us.

Jesus' rebuke is swift and decisive. "Do not hinder him." His logic is practical and profound. A man who is genuinely exercising the power of Christ's name is not likely to turn around and curse that same name. True power from Christ creates an allegiance to Christ. Then Jesus lays down a crucial principle for public spiritual warfare: "he who is not against us is for us." This should not be confused with His statement in Matthew 12:30, "He who is not with Me is against Me." The two statements address different realms. The latter statement addresses the heart of an individual; before the face of God, there is no neutrality. You are either gathering with Christ or scattering. But this statement in Mark addresses the external, public conflict between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Satan. In that war, if someone is firing at the same enemy, you don't stop to check his uniform. You recognize him as an ally, even if he is in a different regiment.

41 For whoever gives you a cup of water to drink in My name because you are of Christ, truly I say to you, he will not lose his reward.

Jesus reinforces the point by going from the great to the small. If a major act of power like exorcism demonstrates allegiance, so does a minor act of kindness. Anyone who shows favor to Christ's disciples, even something as simple as giving a cup of water, simply because they belong to Christ, is recognized by God and will be rewarded. This is a radical statement. It means that God sees and values every small act done for the sake of His Son. If God rewards such a small gesture of alliance, how much more foolish is it for the disciples to hinder a man who is fighting demons in Christ's name?

42 “And whoever causes one of these little ones who believe to stumble, it would be better for him if, with a heavy millstone hung around his neck, he had been cast into the sea.

The transition here is stark and severe. Jesus pivots from the sin of wrongly excluding an ally to the far more terrible sin of harming a brother. The "little ones who believe" are not just children, but any believer, particularly new or vulnerable ones with a tender conscience. To cause such a one to stumble, to sin, to doubt, to fall away, is a catastrophic offense. Jesus' description of the punishment is terrifyingly graphic. A heavy millstone, the kind turned by a donkey, was a massive stone. To be thrown into the sea with this around your neck meant a swift, certain, and violent death. Jesus says that such a fate would be better than facing the divine judgment for this sin. This is not hyperbole for the sake of shock value; it is a sober assessment of divine justice. God is fiercely protective of His children, and to lead one astray is to incur a wrath that makes drowning look merciful.

43-44 And if your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life crippled, than, having your two hands, to go into hell, into the unquenchable fire, [and where THEIR WORM DOES NOT DIE, AND THE FIRE IS NOT QUENCHED.]

Having warned against causing others to stumble, Jesus turns to the root of the problem: the sin within our own hearts that makes us stumbling blocks. The language is, of course, figurative. Maiming oneself does not produce holiness. The point of the hyperbole is to teach us the necessity of radical, ruthless spiritual surgery. Your hand represents your actions, what you do. If what you are doing is leading you into sin, you must take drastic, decisive, and painful action to stop. The choice is between a temporary, earthly loss (a hand) and an eternal, ultimate loss (your soul). It is better to enter heaven maimed than to go to hell whole. He then defines hell, or Gehenna, with language from the final verse of Isaiah (Isa 66:24). It is a place of unquenchable fire and an undying worm, images of perpetual, conscious torment and decay.

45-46 And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame, than, having your two feet, to be cast into hell, [and where THEIR WORM DOES NOT DIE, AND THE FIRE IS NOT QUENCHED.]

The warning is repeated for emphasis, this time with the foot. Your foot represents where you go, the paths you take. If the places you are going, the environments you are in, are causing you to sin, you must cut them out of your life. Again, the logic is stark. A temporary lameness is infinitely preferable to an eternal damnation. The repetition of the description of hell drives the point home. This is not a risk to be trifled with. The worm does not die. The fire is not quenched.

47-48 And if your eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye, than, having two eyes, to be cast into hell, where THEIR WORM DOES NOT DIE, AND THE FIRE IS NOT QUENCHED.

The third repetition involves the eye, which represents what you look at, what you desire, the lusts of the heart. This gets closer to the root of sin than even the hand or the foot. If your desires are leading you to destruction, you must mortify them. Pluck them out. The cost may be great, but the cost of indulgence is infinitely greater. For the third time, Jesus describes hell with the terrifying refrain from Isaiah. The horror of eternal judgment is the ultimate motivation for this radical spiritual warfare. We are to fight sin so violently because the alternative is so unimaginably awful.

49 “For everyone will be salted with fire.

This is a difficult and dense saying, but it connects the previous warnings about hellfire with the concluding statements about salt. The "for" indicates it is an explanation. The fire Jesus has just described is not just for some; it is a universal principle. Everyone will be subjected to a fiery testing. For the unrepentant, this is the unquenchable fire of Gehenna, which paradoxically "salts" or preserves them in their torment. But for the believer, this is the refining fire of trial and sanctification in this life. God puts His people through fiery ordeals to purify them, to burn away the dross, and to make them fit for His kingdom.

50 Salt is good; but if the salt becomes unsalty, with what will you make it salty again? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”

Jesus now explains the positive side of this salting. In the Old Testament, every sacrifice had to be offered with salt (Lev. 2:13); it was the "salt of the covenant," signifying preservation, purity, and loyalty. Believers, having been "salted with fire," are to be living sacrifices. We are to "have salt in ourselves." This internal salt is the grace of God that preserves us from the corruption of sin and makes our lives a savory offering to Him. When we are full of this divine salt, it has an external effect: we will "be at peace with one another." The sectarianism of John (v. 38) and the disciples' arguments about greatness are the result of a lack of salt. A truly salty Christian, one who is being purified by God's fire and who is ruthless with his own sin, has no taste for prideful disputes. His life is characterized by covenant faithfulness, which results in peace with his brothers.


Application

This passage confronts our modern, therapeutic, and non-judgmental version of Christianity with a bucket of ice-cold water. Jesus is not safe, and discipleship is not comfortable. First, we must examine our tribal instincts. Are we more concerned with our church brand, our denomination, or our theological camp than we are with the advance of the kingdom of God? If someone is preaching Christ and fighting darkness, we are to see them as an ally, not a competitor. Our default should be generosity of spirit, not suspicion.

Second, we must take with utter seriousness the warning against causing others to stumble. Our words, our actions, our liberties, and our attitudes have an effect on those around us, especially new believers. A cavalier attitude toward sin, a cynical or complaining spirit, or a hypocritical lifestyle can do eternal damage to a tender soul. We will answer to God for the influence we have on His little ones. This should make us tremble.

Third, and most fundamentally, we must declare war on our own sin. Not a half-hearted skirmish, but a radical, limb-chopping, eye-gouging war. We must identify the patterns, the desires, and the places that lead us to sin, and we must be ruthless in cutting them out of our lives. This is not about self-mutilation, but about what the Puritans called the mortification of sin. It is a painful, daily process of putting sin to death by the power of the Spirit. The alternative is hell, and Jesus wants us to feel the heat so that we will run to the cross. It is only at the cross that we find the grace and power to fight this war, and it is the blood of Christ that makes us a salty sacrifice, pleasing to God and at peace with our brothers.