I’ve always thought it was important to understand that Jesus in fact had a choice about dying on the cross, at least. Yes, it was his Father’s will, but he willingly went along with it (at least that’s what his prayer in Gethsemane seems to imply).

Obviously what you are saying doesn’t logically preclude the possibility that Jesus could have at least theoretically gone against the Father’s will in at least some instances, only that the Father could choose to actually thwart the Son’s will in at least some instances.

This whole question strikes at the heart of what the dynamic of the Father-Son relationship actually looks like in the Trinity. How it all works out I think we will never know this side of eternity.

Kidding aside I would say that the choice between a picture of Jesus that empathizes apocalyptic teaching (Matthew) and one that emphasizes an apocalyptic miracle worker (Mark.)

In both texts the humanity of Jesus is emphasized, but in Mark I think even more so. I think it’s good to remember that Jesus was in fact a human, who got frustrated in life, just like we do today.

I’ll admit that the “embarrassment hypothesis” has worn thin with me. I’m more inclined to take Matthew’s account as being related positively to Matthew’s literary project than I am to take it as negating Mark primarily. In my view, making those moves gives sufficient cause for the shapes of the gospels without importing Germanic progress-models.

You’re right that my reading leaves the tension in there, and I suppose, pressed for the reality “behind” the texts, I’d be inclined to say that, were I present at the event, I likely would have written an account that wasn’t identical either to Matthew’s or Mark’s take, and more than likely, if I were writing a gospel (and had the Greek to do so), my own account would, like Mark’s and Matthew’s fit into the larger narrative schema that I was working on. But since we’ve got two canonical gospels, each of which seems to cast the life of Jesus in its own mold, and since the Church rejected the Diatesseron of Tatian that would have flattened the four into one, I’m inclined to take both of the readings as authoritative. If that leaves us with difference, I’m inclined to take that difference as part of our relationship to divine power.

My main concern with that reading is that it complicates the reading by one more auxiliary verb, “would.” In that reading, where Matthew holds that Jesus did not do signs and Mark that Jesus was not able to do signs, your reading would hold that Jesus would not do signs, introducing a verb that isn’t even in the text. That said, it is similar to Jan’s reading, and I’m sure that psychological move is compelling to many folks who happen not to be English teachers.

I think taking Mark (or any first century writing) on its own terms and staying orthodox (later theological categories) is an exegetical problem. It seems that much of this ends up being sloppy exegesis and involves anachronisms.

Best thing to do might be to use some historical criticism into the literary mix. The obvious solution is to say that Mark’s account was earlier and might be a more faithful account. The other is the “embarrassment” criterion. That is if what’s recorded would have been embarrassing to the early movement than it’s probably true.

Now before I get labeled a heretic, let me say that I consider myself orthodox, but I think those categories come from later Church tradition which I also highly esteem.

Your reading above does justice to the two gospels literarily (of course, my knowledge of literary theory amounts to bupkus so take that judgment for what it’s worth). I’m not sure it resolves the question, though. You’ve shown both tellings of the story to be coherent within their respective gospel, but that leaves the question of whether the two gospels, overall, are coherent regarding Christ’s and the Father’s power and wills. Haven’t you just moved the seeming incoherence of the can’t/won’t in the story in question up to the two gospels’ overall narratives? You obviously know that already–your last paragraph would be my own response, more or less–but I’m not sure it will satisfy your students or co-teacher.

As to the contradiction, I was just analyzing the grammar–if in fact words mean things, then one should give some sort of account for the very different verbs going on in the two passages. As I said, Jan looked for a psychological synthesis that I found less than satisfying; my literary attempt at things is my best run at another way to read them together.

But it’s hardly the last word, of course. (I love when I can end with the tag line.)