Mark 16:2
καὶ λίαν πρωῒ τῆς μιᾶς σαββάτων ἔρχονται ἐπὶ τὸ μνημεῖον, ἀνατείλαντος τοῦ ἡλίου.
Introduction: A Morning That Speaks in Syntax
At first glance, Mark 16:2 appears to be a straightforward narrative clause describing the women’s arrival at the tomb “very early on the first day of the week.” Yet beneath its simple surface lies a syntactic structure that subtly reorients temporal logic and heightens theological significance. The phrase ἀνατείλαντος τοῦ ἡλίου, an aorist active participle in the genitive absolute construction, follows the main verb ἔρχονται rather than preceding it chronologically. This postpositive placement creates a marked word order that invites interpretive attention.
This article explores how the positioning of ἀνατείλαντος τοῦ ἡλίου functions not merely as a temporal marker but as a rhetorical device that orients the reader toward the dawn — both literally and theologically — as a moment pregnant with resurrection meaning.
Morphological and Syntactic Analysis of ἀνατείλαντος τοῦ ἡλίου
Let us begin with the key phrase:
| Term | Root | Form | Literal Translation | Syntactic Function |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| ἀνατείλαντος τοῦ ἡλίου | ἀνατέλλω | Aorist Active Participle, Genitive Masculine Singular | “the sun having risen” | Genitive Absolute, temporally subordinate to the main verb ἔρχονται |
The phrase ἀνατείλαντος τοῦ ἡλίου is a genitive absolute construction — grammatically independent from the main clause, yet semantically related to it. Typically, such constructions precede the main verb they modify, especially when serving a temporal function (cf. BDF §417; Robertson 592–593). However, here it follows the main verb ἔρχονται, creating what Campbell calls a marked word order — a deviation from default linear sequencing that signals emphasis or foregrounding (Campbell, Advances in the Study of Greek, 112).
The Rhetoric of Delayed Time: How ἀνατείλαντος Shapes Narrative Emphasis
From a discourse grammar perspective, the placement of ἀνατείλαντος τοῦ ἡλίου after the main verb disrupts the expected temporal sequence. Normally, we would expect something like:
καὶ ἀνατείλαντος τοῦ ἡλίου, λίαν πρωῒ τῆς μιᾶς σαββάτων ἔρχονται…
By delaying the temporal specification, Mark withholds the full temporal context until after the action has been stated. This creates a kind of narrative tension — the reader learns that the women are going to the tomb before being told exactly when.
This delay allows the focus to rest momentarily on the act of journeying itself — their movement toward the site of death — before revealing that this movement occurs at sunrise. The result is a subtle but powerful temporal foregrounding: the rising of the sun becomes the final piece of information that completes the scene, drawing thematic attention to the dawning light as symbolically significant.
The Semantics of Dawn: Sunrise as a Theological Marker
In ancient Mediterranean cultures, the rising sun often carried eschatological and soteriological connotations. In Jewish apocalyptic literature, for example, the sun was associated with divine revelation (Mal 4:2), and in Greco-Roman thought, it frequently symbolized truth, life, and cosmic renewal. By placing ἀνατείλαντος τοῦ ἡλίου at the end of the sentence, Mark highlights the dawn as the setting of revelation — not just of the empty tomb, but of the resurrection itself (cf. v. 6).
Furthermore, this word order aligns with the broader literary strategy of Mark’s Gospel, which often builds suspense through delayed disclosure and understated presentation. Just as Jesus’ identity is gradually revealed throughout the narrative, so too is the resurrection event introduced quietly, almost incidentally, within a seemingly ordinary account of morning travel.
The Logic of the Optative
Though no optative mood appears in Mark 16:2, the verse exemplifies another form of linguistic desire: the narrative shaping of time toward revelation. The placement of ἀνατείλαντος τοῦ ἡλίου at the end of the clause mirrors the structure of poetic or liturgical language, where the most significant term is saved for last. It invites the reader not only to see the timeline of events but to feel the weight of the dawn — to stand, with the women, at the threshold of a new creation.
Thus, while the optative expresses unrealized wishes, the word order here expresses a realized one: the long night of death has passed, and the sun of resurrection has risen.
