While it is impossible to ignore the theological weight of the New Testament, it is perhaps somewhat reductive to downplay the political ramifications of the text. From its inception, Christianity consciously aimed to draw on and build on a reservoir of Jewish (and other) religious traditions and philosophical models of thought. There are numerous examples of this appropriation of the Hebrew Bible in the gospels, but perhaps the most obvious example is Christ's speech in the Temple in Jerusalem, as described in Mark 12-13. Through a careful examination of that passage, this article seeks to show how Christ simultaneously uses and metamorphoses Jewish doctrine to syncretically create a religion that reflects his unique conception of God. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay Unlike Paul, whose epistles are specifically directed at helping followers stay strong in their faith, Mark does not openly advertise his political intentions. However, he too is intrinsically interested in winning over the faithful, creating an "us" to contrast the "others" around him. To do this he relies heavily on Christian reevaluations of Jewish doctrine, but it is important to remember that Mark's audience was not exclusively Jews. None of the Apostles could afford to forget the Gentiles, and Mark's insistence on the corporeality of Christ, his portrait of Jesus as an extraordinary man with ordinary origins is designed to capture the sympathies of his audience in a way that transcends religious beliefs existing. Pagan or not, one cannot help but be moved by Mark's Jesus, who is characterized along the lines of a Greek tragic hero. According to this gospel, Jesus' hamartia is his inability to express himself articulately: his readers already know the outcome and yet they read his story, mesmerized by how events escalate to their disastrous final conclusion. It is a testament to Mark's genius that he taps into the cathartic emotions that secular reading might inspire and directs them into religious channels so efficiently. Unfortunately, for the purposes of this article, this aspect of the narrative will have to remain unexplored. Postcolonial literary theory recognizes three main phases in the evolution of the artistic production of a nation-subject. First subjects adopt the dominant ideology, then they become experts in it, and finally they become so skilled at manipulating cultural functions (such as language and literature) that they begin to adapt these functions to their own ends, often transforming the situation into something different. tool against the dominant discourse itself. This was as true of first-century AD Christians as it was of Commonwealth authors writing in the shadow of 19th-century British rule. As Christ Himself is quoted as saying to a Samaritan woman, "You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation comes from the Jews" (John 4:22). Clearly, he identified as intrinsically Jewish. The operation of the principles of 'adopt' and 'adept' is clear from the beginning of Mark's text. Immediately after the anointing by John the Baptist, Christ goes into the desert, emerging after forty days to proclaim the "good news of God" (1.14). Of this period alone we are given almost no details, but we can assume that he was doing more than simply fraternizing with wild beasts. This hypothesis gains substance with the next vignette, which describes how he entered a synagogue and "taught [the community] as one who has authority, and not as scribes"(1.22). Thus, not only was Jesus well-versed in the Hebrew Scriptures, but he was also actively engaged in interpreting them in ways that Jerusalem's "educated elite of scholar-lawyers" (1:22n) were not. Chapter 12 contains the crux of Jesus' challenge to the Hebrew Scriptures. the rooted socio-religious order. He had already preached in other smaller temples and had organized a fair number of followers, but the Temple in Jerusalem was a true bastion of Jewish power. The choice of parable once again demonstrates his intention to shape Jewish religious law according to his own purposes. It begins with the story of the recalcitrant winemakers, an allegory of his current situation: he is the "favorite son" whom the "winemakers" will proceed to kill. He concludes with a rebuke: "Have you not read this Scripture...?" (12.10); his quote is taken from Psalm 118, a celebratory hymn that gives thanks to the Lord after victory in battle (Ps 118n). The poem mentions enemies who "surrounded [the devotee] on every side; / in the name of the Lord I cut them off!" (Ps 118.10). Even Jesus is, literally, surrounded on all sides by an antagonistic religion and can only help him with the approval of the Lord. By inserting himself into the psalm, he subtly reinterprets it so that the speaker is no longer a Jew singing hallelujah but a Christian praising his lord, the one true God. Mark continues this sophisticated pattern of appropriation in Jesus' debate with the Pharisees and the Herodians. The Messiah refuses to give a direct answer about paying taxes, saying simply: "Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor's, and to God the things that are God's" (12.17). While he literally espouses a separation between the institutions of Church and State, Jesus actually denies the command of the State: after all, God is the ultimate master (as he had emphasized in the previous parable). Thus far in their history the children of Abraham had had a precarious existence under a dual system of power, declaring their God while acknowledging the regulative force of their pagan rulers. Therefore, its connection between the two axes of authority has several meanings. He obviously advocates a move away from the material world of coins and valorizes the philosophy of love that is more fully developed in the later gospels. Closer examination might show the extent of Jesus' self-awareness: he (or the narrator) knew that there would be little hope for the Christian faith if it were not the sole center of regulative power. In this he draws directly on the Hebrew Bible's insistence on the oneness of Yah, but instead of attacking other religions, he attacks the socio-political foundations of society. Once again, an Old Testament tradition is cleverly reinvented and added to the Christian canon. Another important political ramification of the gospel of Christ's love is in the individuation of the Other. Obviously Christians are different from others in terms of religion. But if this encouraged them to love all different pagan practices, it would fundamentally weaken theirs. Before examining the Gospel's response to this problem, it may be significant to note that Jesus' injunction to love God and love one's neighbor thematically completes a narrative problem introduced with Satan's question, "Does Job fear God at all?" (Job 1.9). Job's subsequent trials and tribulations and Yahweh's final rejection of an androcentric worldview provide a long, if rather unsatisfying, answer. Christ recognizes that, although humanity cannot move beyond its context, seeking to understand the vagaries of its own life is one of our primal impulses. He thus takes up the Deuteronomic exhortation to "love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all.