These are all figures; and as the sun without thee, so the sun of righteousness arising with healing in his wings within thee. All who mind the measure which God hath given you, it will open unto you these outward figures which God spake, and will teach you; as you go up and down you shall read your figures. —George Fox

The tract from which this epigraph was taken begins by telling the reader that it is “A Word from the Lord, to All the World and All Professors in the World; Spoken in Parables.”¹ That is to say, Fox’s message in this writing will be given largely in figurative language: in parables or figures of speech. Throughout this seven-page document, Fox repeatedly moves in and out of lists in which he compares the inward nature of man with outward things. Here is one example:

As the night without thee and darkness, so there is night within; and as stars without thee, so there are stars within thee; as moon without thee, so there is moon within thee; and as clouds without thee, so there are clouds within thee. These are all figures.²

“Figures,” Fox writes elsewhere in this tract, “are spoken to the carnal part in man,”³ that is to say, the unredeemed nature that has not yet known the appearance of Christ Within. Here in chapter 13 of Mark, Jesus—likewise using figurative language—informs four of his disciples of that which must befall them and every soul as it inwardly journeys from the unredeemed, carnal nature into the awareness of the “Lord of all . . . [who] is coming to fill his with the knowledge of himself.”⁴ As each soul progresses from the earthly, carnal state, it will come—figuratively speaking—to “see the Son of man coming in the clouds with great power and glory”⁵ (Mk. 13:26).

Two overriding ideas (Mk. 13:1-6)

In the opening passage of Mark 13, two overriding ideas preface the many allusions to the inward journey that comprise the bulk of the chapter. The first idea is presented in the opening exchange as Jesus and his disciples exit the temple; one of the disciples, marveling at the new buildings, says, “Master, see what manner of stones and what buildings are here!“ (1). The new temple buildings were man-made structures whose purpose was to house the society’s religious and legal practices. In this exchange, however, they stand as figures for man-made religion: communal ideas of the nature of God, faith, salvation, sacrifice, prayer, virtue, ethics, laws, hierarchy, custom, and practice: in sum, everything, every idea pertaining to religion that has been formed or housed in the mind, soul, and heart of the people. All of it, says Jesus, must go: every idea comprising the religious bulwark is to be so thoroughly stripped of meaning and allegiance that “there shall not be left one stone upon another” (2). The outward or fleshly system of belief by which one had hitherto structured one’s life must tumble down in this time of personal apocalypse, of moving from man-made religion (or from a philosophy) to revealed faith.

The second idea that opens this chapter anticipates the natural but faulty response to this bewildering loss of spiritual bearings. Jesus warns those who find themselves in this empty, precarious position to resist any replacement ideology that is touted by others. “Take heed lest any man deceive you: For many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ; and shall deceive many” (5-6). Accepting that one has no solid footing during this time is as essential as it is distressing, and one must reject and ignore any whose eagerness to exalt themselves drives them to seek the adulation of others, as well as reject the urge to integrate oneself into communities that offer ready-made identity to the estranged self.   

The beginnings of sorrows (7-9)

Having set out the overriding ideas that the soul’s desolation is a sign that inward transformation is at hand and that one must guard against false prophets and conformity at this precarious time, Jesus turns to figurative language to convey the magnitude of disturbance that is to be expected. In severity, the inward trauma will be akin to the effects of war, multiple earthquakes, and famine, and “these are [only] the beginnings” (7-8).

A testimony against them (9-11)

There is a widespread notion that in the apocalyptic discourse found in each of the three synoptic gospels⁶ Jesus speaks literally, foretelling an outward event: that the catastrophe he describes will occur at a single point in time, and will be experienced simultaneously throughout the world. In verse 9, that notion is dispelled as Jesus tells his disciples that during this great tribulation they should expect persecution from “rulers and kings” and in “councils and in the synagogues.” Obviously, were this time he speaks of to be a single, global event, these authorities would likewise be affected, whereas they are not and instead retain the avidity to persecute those who minister the gospel. Anticipating the persecution his disciples will face, Jesus rehearses the mission, method, and credentials that they, as apostles, must take on:

[A]nd ye shall be brought before rulers and kings for my sake, for a testimony against them. And the gospel must first be published among all nations. But when they shall lead you and deliver you up, take no thought beforehand what ye shall speak, neither do ye premeditate: but whatsoever shall be given you in that hour, that speak ye: for it is not ye that speak, but the Holy Ghost (9b-11).

The Soul’s Affliction (12-14)

Jesus then begins to funnel the outward, grand-scale catastrophes (figuratively described as war, earthquakes, and famine) into their true and actual location: the individual soul. The great devastation will be experienced inwardly—within each individual and at a particular time. This is indicated by the type of figurative language Jesus begins to use: it is personal. Example after example is given of the most personal and extreme devastation: betrayal and murder within the family. “Now the brother shall betray the brother to death, and the father the son; and children shall rise up against their parents, and shall cause them to be put to death” (12).

Listing affliction upon affliction, Jesus goes on: “And ye shall be hated of all men for my name’s sake” (13a). He here expresses the utter isolation and alienation one must undergo in fidelity to—at this low point of emptiness and confusion—one knows not what. Only in hindsight can one piece together words to describe the experience of “enduring unto the end” (13b) as a lonely fidelity to the heart or core of one’s being in its inviolable purity and life; perhaps it could be called fidelity to the nameless, intrinsic holy covenant. The harrowing experience of dying to the self is regularly recorded in seventeenth-century Friends’ journals, and Fox, in his Journal, describes it in this way:

When I was in the deep, under all shut up, I could not believe that I should ever overcome; my troubles, my sorrows, and my temptations were so great, that I often thought I should have despaired, I was so tempted.⁷

In verse 14, Jesus returns to the prophet Daniel’s words to describe this universal, desolate, and pivotal condition as seeing “the abomination of desolation.”⁸

Leaving the worldly self (14b-23)

In this passage, Jesus uses figurative language to convey the idea that the old, worldly way must be totally left behind. In verses 14b through 18, he uses the figure of a refugee, abandoning his or her home for a better, higher place: “flee to the mountains” (14); “on the housetop [don’t] go down into the house” (15). All that one clings to as one’s own, all that has defined and distinguished one, no longer applies: the covering garment of the constructed self can no longer be taken up (16). Leaving the old worldly self, dying to that self, will occur at the farthest edge of our capacity to endure, and we should pray that no additional difficulty be added during this transition; carrying or nursing a child (17) or traveling in winter (18) are figures that convey added difficulty.

For each person, the severity of the plight is an unparalleled “affliction, such as was not from the beginning of the creation which God created unto this time, neither shall be” (19). For in this void, this formless darkness of the soul, the spirit of God is moving upon face of the waters. His is the wisdom, His is the judgment to measure out the time the flesh can endure before salvation is given: that is to say, before the elect Seed, Christ Within, is known (20). As He wills, will He pronounce: “Let there be light” (Gen. 1:3), and with that pronouncement, Christ, “the beginning of the creation of God” (Rev. 3:14), is revealed within: the Inward Christ is now seen and known.

Jesus warns once again: at the height of one’s tribulation, one may be tempted to attach oneself to a teacher whose doctrine appears sound or whose manner is charismatic (“Lo, here is Christ; or lo, he is there” [21]). There will be such a longing for relief from this greatest of troubles, this unsought nihilism, that temptation to settle “for false Christs and false prophets” will be strong. We have been warned (23).

Coming to the end (24-25)

But in those days, after that tribulation, the sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, And the stars of heaven shall fall, and the powers that are in heaven shall be shaken (24-25).

The imagery in these two verses is of light found in nature—the sun, moon, and stars. We are being told in a figurative way that the nature previously relied upon, our human nature, is no longer adequate: no longer is our nature capable of lighting our way, as the sun does in the day and the moon at night. The lights of nature are now darkened and giving no light. What we had previously looked up to guide our way through the dark night (as historically, man has looked to the stars) has now fallen; the values we had exalted, that we had deemed “heavenly,” are shaken and no longer seen as reliable. Through having endured the long suffering of dying to the self, dying to the first birth, the person comes to a standstill: the worldly, carnal life has been downed and darkened, and one is without hope.

The beginning of the creation of God (26-27)

And then shall they see the Son of man coming in the clouds with great power and glory. And then shall he send his angels, and shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from the uttermost part of the earth to the uttermost part of heaven (26-27).

The Son of man comes from beyond: not by earthly means and not from the earthly realm, for the Son of man is not of the earth. He is transcendent and bears the image of God, for he is the Son of God and is become the Son of man: the one who comes after the first man, the first birth, the first Adam. The elect Seed will gather all together who have known this miraculous second birth, this second Adam, as they will recognize him when he is manifested in the writings and speech of others, though they be far distant from one another in worldly, fleshly similitude: different in race, gender, language, age, nationality, time, and place; the elect Seed shall be gathered by his messengers (27): that which informs the mind with Truth.

Jesus provides context (28-31)

Early in this chapter, the disciples had asked for a sign that would indicate the approaching fulfillment or completion of all things (4). Jesus has answered their request in this long discourse, which he then caps with a short parable about a fig tree leafing out as a sign summer is near (28). This brief parable is a reminder that all he has said “in like manner” (29) has been spoken in figures.

The words “this generation shall not pass, till all these things be done” (30) has been used to support the interpretation that throughout this discourse Jesus has been predicting an event in time: the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem that will occur in 70 A.D. That is to say, the word “generation” is interpreted to mean those present whose life spans will enable them to witness the temporal event of the temple’s destruction. Continuing the thought begun in verse 30, however, the following verse 31, (“Heaven and earth shall pass away; but my words shall not pass away.”) places Jesus’s words in these two verses within a timeless context, not the temporal one that has been touted by literalists. Jesus speaks of God’s redemptive activity within the generation (the Greek word is genea⁹) of the first Adam, and His will for fallen humankind’s redemption continues constant “till all these things be done”: that is, until each and all are of the genea of the second Adam, as told us by “the faithful and true witness” (Rev. 3:14) whose “words shall not pass away” (31).

I say unto all. (32-37)

The final passage in this chapter contains a parable that not only underscores the figurative use of language throughout the discourse, but also tells of our worldly predicament. Only God the Father can redeem/perfect us by sending his Son into our hearts that we too may become, as daughters and sons of God, His own creation, bearing His image. Until then, Jesus names us “servants” (34) who are to await the arrival of “the master of the house” (35), the “house” being a figure for our fleshly habitation. We have “every man his work”—courageous fidelity to truth in the heart—and must watch for our master, the Son of man (34), to arrive. That this instruction is not solely addressed to Jesus’s disciples but applies universally to everyone is the final idea in this powerful discourse on the inward progress of each soul as it journeys through the great tribulation and into the great joy: “And what I say unto you I say unto all, Watch” (37).

Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you: But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ’s sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy (1 Pet. 4:12-13).

1. The Works of George Fox (Philadelphia: Marcus T. C. Gould, 1831), 4:32.

2. Ibid., 34. 

 3. Ibid.

4.  Ibid.

5. The King James Version of the Bible is used throughout the essay.

6. The three synoptic gospels each have an apocalyptic chapter: chapter 24 in Matthew, chapter 13 in Mark, and chapter 21:5-36 in Luke.

7. Fox, op. cit. 1:74. 

8.“When Daniel undertook to specify an abomination so surpassingly disgusting to the sense of morality and decency, and so aggressive against every thing that was godly as to drive all from its presence and leave its abode desolate, he chose this as the strongest among several synonyms, adding the qualification ‘that maketh desolate.’ (Dnl 11:31; 12:11).” The International Standard Bible Encyclopaedia [Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1939], 1:16).

9. The two paragraphs at the end of this footnote are taken from a Wikipedia article titled “Olivet Discourse” (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olivet_Discourse [accessed September 26, 2023]) where two scholars (Iver Larsen and Philip La Grange du Toit) are referenced. Each scholar supports the idea that the word “generation” in verse 30 is used to mean a “kind of people”; they agree that the word does not refer to those whose life spans coincide in time. Though the two scholars quoted below agree the Greek word genea (in the KJV translated as “generation”) means a “kind of people,” they disagree on whether Jesus refers to “the ‘good’ kind of people . . . who . . . will endure through all the tribulations” (Larsen) or “the ‘bad’ kind of people” (La Grange du Toit).

In my essay, I specify that the “kind of people” to which Jesus refers when he uses the word “generation” in verse 30 are the unredeemed: those living in the first birth, the first Adam “kind of people.” Jesus is saying each human being (that is, all humankind) will remain in his present unredeemed state—not knowing Christ, the Light Within—until he or she has undergone the dying to the self that Jesus has laid out figuratively in this discourse. (I would paraphrase verses 30 and 31 in this prosaic way: I tell you the kind of people who are in the unredeemed condition will remain unredeemed until they’ve gone through this great tribulation that I’ve told you about. This fact will not change but will be forever true for all humankind.)  In verses 30-31, Jesus is emphasizing the necessity of undergoing the inward Cross: that there is no other way for a human being (humankind) to come to know resurrection in Christ (the second birth), and never will there be another way: his “words shall not pass away” (31).

Here is the excerpt from Wikipedia’s “Olivet Discourse” that describes the two scholars’ views:

The Danish linguist Iver Larsen argues that the word “generation” as it was used in the English King James Version of the Bible (1611) had a much wider meaning than it has today, and that the correct current translation of genea (in the specific context of the second coming story) should be “kind of people” (specifically the “good” kind of people; the disciple’s kind of people, who, like the words of Jesus, will endure through all the tribulations). In Psalm 14, the King James version clearly uses “generation” in this now outdated sense, when it declares that “God is in the generation of the righteous.” According to Larsen, the Oxford Universal Dictionary states that the latest attested use of genea in the sense of “class, kind or set of persons” took place in 1727. Larsen concludes that the meaning of “generation” in the English language has narrowed considerably since then.

Bible scholar Philip La Grange du Toit argues that genea is mostly used to describe a timeless and spiritual family/lineage of good or bad people in The New Testament, and that this is the case also for the second coming discourse in Matthew 24. In contrast to Larsen however, he argues that the word genea here denotes the “bad” kind of people, because Jesus had used the word in that pejorative sense in the preceding context (chapter 23).

Christ Descending into Hell, 1510 Albrecht Durer