Matthew within Judaism (Early Christianity and Its Literature) 2019059610, 2019059611, 9781628372779, 9780884144434, 9780884144441, 162837277X

Citation preview

EARLY CHRISTIANITY AND ITS LITERATURE

Matthew within Judaism Israel and the Nations in the First Gospel

Edited by

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

MATTHEW WITHIN JUDAISM

EARLY CHRISTIANITY AND ITS LITERATURE Shelly Matthews, General Editor Editorial Board: Jennifer A. Glancy Joseph A. Marchal Anders Runesson Janet Spittler Matthew Thiessen Number 27

MATTHEW WITHIN JUDAISM Israel and the Nations in the First Gospel

Edited by

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

Atlanta

Copyright © 2020 by Society of Biblical Literature

All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by means of any information storage or retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted by the 1976 Copyright Act or in writing from the publisher. Requests for permission should be addressed in writing to the Rights and Permissions Office, SBL Press, 825 Houston Mill Road, Atlanta, GA 30329 USA. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Runesson, Anders, editor. | Gurtner, Daniel M., editor. Title: Matthew within Judaism : Israel and the Nations in the First Gospel / edited by Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner. Description: Atlanta : SBL Press, 2020. | Series: Early Christianity and its literature ; 27 | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2019059610 (print) | LCCN 2019059611 (ebook) | ISBN 9781628372779 (paperback) | ISBN 9780884144434 (hardback) | ISBN 9780884144441 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Bible. Matthew—Criticism, interpretation, etc. | Judaism—History— Post-exilic period, 586 B.C.-210 A.D. | Christianity and other religions—Judaism. | Judaism—Relations—Christianity. Classification: LCC BS2575.52 .M425 2020 (print) | LCC BS2575.52 (ebook) | DDC 226.2/06—dc23 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019059611

Contents

Preface.................................................................................................................ix Abbreviations.....................................................................................................xi Introduction: The Location of the Matthew-within-Judaism Perspective in Past and Present Research Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner...............................................1 Part 1: Institutions and Law Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter James G. Crossley......................................................................................29 The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching Jordan Ryan................................................................................................53 Matthew and the Temple Akiva Cohen..............................................................................................75 Part 2: Ethnicity Aspects of Matthean Universalism: Ethnic Identity as a Theological Tool in the First Gospel Anders Runesson.....................................................................................103 His Glorious Throne: Israel and the Gentiles in Mission and Judgment in the Gospel of Matthew David L. Turner.......................................................................................135 “Nations,” “Non-Jewish Nations,” or “Non-Jewish Individuals”: Matthew 28:19 Revisited Terence L. Donaldson.............................................................................169

vi

Contents

Ethnic Identities in the Dead Sea Legal Papyri and Matthew: Reinterpreting Matthew 25:31–46 Philip F. Esler...........................................................................................195 Part 3: Jesus among Friends and Enemies The Role of the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew Matthias Konradt....................................................................................213 Whose King Is He Anyway? What Herod Tells Us about Matthew Wayne Baxter...........................................................................................233 The Function of Teaching Authority in the Dead Sea Documents and Matthew’s Gospel Loren T. Stuckenbruck............................................................................257 Part 4: Purity and Eschatology Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew Cecilia Wassén.........................................................................................285 Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls Daniel M. Gurtner..................................................................................309 Life after Death? The Question of Immediate Life after Death in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Gospel of Matthew David C. Sim............................................................................................329 The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus: A Reassessment of Matthew’s Portrayal of the Risen Jesus Lidija Novakovic......................................................................................347 Part 5: Jewish and Gentile Reception The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism and a Sectarian Reading of the Gospel of Matthew: The Trial of Jesus John Kampen...........................................................................................371



Contents vii

Israel and the Nations in the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies and Recognitions 1.27–71: Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew Karin Hedner Zetterholm......................................................................399 Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables since Jülicher Nathan Eubank........................................................................................427 Concluding Reflections: What’s Next in the Study of Matthew? Amy-Jill Levine........................................................................................449 Bibliography....................................................................................................467 Contributors....................................................................................................519 Ancient Sources Index...................................................................................525 Modern Authors Index..................................................................................567

Preface

To the readers of this volume it will soon become evident that it originated in a session held by the Society of Biblical Literature’s Matthew Section (San Antonio, 2016) and continued the year after (Boston, 2017). The development of the book was greatly enhanced by the stimulating dialogue generated in those settings. We are very grateful to the participants in those sessions and to the other scholars represented in this volume for enthusiastically endorsing the project and contributing excellent and thought-provoking papers. What may be less obvious is the influence of important scholars behind the scenes whose input made the volume much better than it otherwise would have been. Amy-Jill Levine not only furnished a stimulating conclusion to the book but also provided important guidance at some pivotal points. David Horrell, then general editor of the Early Christianity and Its Literature (ECL) series, accepted the volume for the series and provided helpful guidance in the initial stages of the process. Shelly Matthews, now the general editor of the series, read the entire manuscript in detail, correcting a number of errors and lending her expertise to improving the volume in a number of respects. The editors are grateful to these scholars as well as the steering committee and participants in the Society of Biblical Literature’s Matthew section, with whom we have worked over several years. Finally, we are grateful to Nicole Tilford for her leadership as the manuscript was turned into a book. Anders Runesson Daniel M. Gurtner August 2019

-ix-

Abbreviations

Primary Sources 1 Clem. 1 Clement 1 En. 1 Enoch 1Q14 Pesher Micah 1Q15 Pesher Zephaniah 1Q16 Pesher Psalms 1Q20 Genesis Apocryphon 1Q71 Daniela 1Q72 Danielb 1QHa Hodayota or Thanksgiving Hymnsa 1QM Milḥamah or War Scroll 1QpHab Pesher Habakkuk 1QS Serek Hayaḥad or Rule of the Community 2 Bar. 2 Baruch 2 Clement 2 Clem. 2 Enoch 2 En. 4Q14 Exodusc 4Q112 Daniela 4Q113 Danielb 4Q114 Danielc 4Q115 Danield 4Q116 Daniele 4Q156 Targum Leviticus 4Q161 Pesher Isaiaha 4Q162 Pesher Isaiahb 4Q163 Papyrus Pesher Isaiahc 4Q164 Pesher Isaiahd 4Q165 Pesher Isaiahe 4Q166 Pesher Hoseaa -xi-

xii

Abbreviations

4Q167 Pesher Hoseab 4Q169 Pesher Nahum 4Q170 Pesher Zephaniah 4Q171 Pesher Psalmsa 4Q172 Pesher unidentified 4Q173 Pesher Psalmsb 4Q174 Florilegium 4Q175 Testimonia Catena A 4Q177 4Q180 Ages of Creation A Ages of Creation B 4Q181 4Q184 Wiles of the Wicked Woman 4Q202 Aramaic Enochb 4Q203 Aramaic Enoch, Giantsa 4Q213 Aramaic Levi Documenta 4Q242 Aramaic Prayer of Nabodinus 4Q243 Aramaic Pseudo-Daniela 4Q244 Aramaic Pseudo-Danielb 4Q245 Aramaic Pseudo-Danielc 4Q246 Aramaic Daniel Apocryphon 4Q248 Historical Text A 4Q252 Commentary on Genesis A 4Q253 Commentary on Genesis B Commentary on Genesis C 4Q254 Commentary on Genesis D 4Q254a 4Q258 Serek Hayaḥadd (Manual of Discipline) 4Q259 Serek Hayaḥade (Manual of Discipline) 4Q265 Miscellaneous Rules 4Q266 Damascus Documenta 4Q267 Damascus Documentb 4Q269 Damascus Documentd 4Q272 Damascus Documentg 4Q273 Papyrus Damascus Documenth 4Q289 Berakhotd 4Q300 Mysteriesb 4Q382 Papyrus Paraphase of Kings et al. 4Q385a Jeremiah Apocryphon Ca 4Q386 Pseudo-Ezekielb 4Q387 Jeremiah Cb



Abbreviations xiii

4Q388a Jeremiah Cc 4Q389 Jeremiah Cd 4Q390 Jeremiah Apocryphon E 4Q391 Papyrus Pseudo-Ezekiele 4Q415 Instructiona 4Q416 Instructionb 4Q417 Instructionc 4Q418 Instructiond 4Q419 Sapiential Work B 4Q434 Barkhi Nafshia 4Q464 Exposition on the Patriarchs 4Q491c Milḥamah or War Scrolla 4Q496 Papyrus Milḥamahf (War Scroll) Dibre Hame’orota 4Q504 4Q521 Messianic Apocalypse 4Q524 Temple Scrollb 4Q530 Aramaic Enoch, Giantsb 4Q542 Aramaic Testament of Qahat Aramaic Visions of Amrama 4Q543 4Q544 Aramaic Visions of Amramb 4Q545 Aramaic Visions of Amramc 4Q546 Aramaic Visions of Amramd 4Q547 Aramaic Visions of Amrame 4Q548 Aramaic Visions of Amramf 4Q551 Aramaic Daniel and Susanna? 4Q552 Aramaic Four Kingdomsa 4Q553 Aramaic Four Kingdomsb 4QMMT MMT (Halakic Letter) 6Q7 Papyrus Daniel 11Q13 Melchizedek 11Q14 Melchizedek 11Q19 Temple Scroll Abr. Philo, De Abrahamo A.J. Josephus, Antiquitates judaicae Apoc. Mos. Apocalypse of Moses Apostolic Constitutions and Canons Apos. Con. Ascen. Isa. Martyrdom and Ascension of Isaiah 6–11 Avot R. Nat. Avot de Rabbi Nathan Avod. Zar. Avodah Zarah

xiv

Abbreviations

b. Babylonian Talmud B. Qam. Bava Qamma Barn. Barnabas Ber. Berakhot Bib. hist. Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca historica B.J. Josephus, Bellum judaicum C. Ap. Josephus, Contra Apionem Cels. Origen, Contra Celsum Comm. Isa. Jerome, Commentariorum in Isaiam libri XVIII Decal. Philo, De decalogo Dial. Justin, Dialogus cum Tryphone Did. Didache Ep Jer Epistle of Jeremiah Ep. Pet. Epistle of Peter Eruv. Eruvim Gen. Rab. Genesis Rabbah Haer. Adversus haereses Hag. Hagigah Herm. Sim. Shepherd of Hermas, Similitude(s) Hist. Tacitus, Historiae Hist. eccl. Eusebius, Historia ecclesiastica Hist. Rom. Cassius Dio, Historia Romana Hom. Pseudo-Clementine Homilies Hom. Matt. John Chrysostom, Homiliae in Matthaeum Hul. Hullin Hypoth. Philo, Hypothetica Jos. Asen. Joseph and Aseneth Jub. Jubilees Ketub. Ketubbot LAB Pseudo-Philo, Liber antiquitarum biblicarum Legat. Philo, Legatio ad Gaium Letter to Aristeas Let. Aris. Leviticus Rabbah Lev. Rab. Liv. Prop. Lives of the Prophets LXX Septuagint m. Mishnah Ma’as. Ma’aserot Ma’as. Sh. Ma’aser Sheni Mak. Makkot



Abbreviations xv

Meg. Megillah Mek. Mekilta Menah. Menahot Midr. Midrash Migr. Philo, De migration Abrahami Mos. Philo, De vita Mosis MT Masoretic Text Naz. Nazir Ned. Nedarim Neg. Nega’im OG Old Greek Pan. Epiphanius, Panarion (Adversus haereses) Pesah. Pesahim Pesiq. Rab. Pesiqta Rabbati Pirqe R. El. Pirque Rabbi Eliezer Pis. Cicero, In Pisonem Post. Philo, De posteritate Caini Pr Azar Prayer of Azariah Prob. Philo, Quod omnis probus liber sit Pss. Sol. Psalms of Solomon QE Philo, Questions and Answers on Exodus QG Philo, Questions and Answers on Genesis Qidd. Qiddushin Rab. Rabbah Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions Rec. Sanh. Sanhedrin Sat. Juvenal, Satirae Shabb. Shabbat Shev. Shevi’it Sheqal. Sheqalim Sib. Or. Sibylline Oracles Philo, De specialibus legibus Spec. t. Tosefta T. Benj. Testament of Benjamin T. Dan Testament of Dan T. Gad Testament of Gad T. Isaac Testament of Isaac T. Iss. Testament of Issachar Testament of Judah T. Jud.

xvi

Abbreviations

T. Levi Testament of Levi T. Mos. Testament of Moses T. Naph. Testament of Naphtali T. Sim. Testament of Simeon T. Zeb. Testament of Zebulun Ta’an. Ta’anit Tanh. Tanhuma Tehar. Teharot Tg. Targum Tg. Neof. Targum Neofiti Tg. Ps.-J. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan Uq. Uqtzin y. Jerusalem Talmud Yad. Yadayim Yevam. Yevamot Secondary Resources AB ABD ABR ABRL AGJU AGP AJEC ALUOS ANF ANTC ATDan AThR AThrS AUSTR AYBRL BA

Anchor Bible Freedman, David Noel, ed. Anchor Bible Dictionary. 6 vols. New York: Doubleday, 1992. Australian Biblical Review Anchor Bible Reference Library Arbeiten zur Geschichte des antiken Judentums und des Urchristentums Archiv für Geschichte der Philosophie Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity Annual of Leeds University Oriental Society Roberts, Alexander, and James Donaldson, eds. The Ante-Nicene Fathers: Translations of the Writings of the Fathers Down to A.D. 325. 10 vols. 1885–1887. Abingdon New Testament Commentaries Acta Theologica Danica Anglican Theological Review Anglican Theological Review Supplement American University Studies, Series 7: Theology and Religion Anchor Yale Bible Reference Library Biblical Archaeologist



BAGD

Abbreviations xvii

Bauer, Walter, William F. Arndt, F. Wilbur Gingrich, and Frederick W. Danker. Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. 2nd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1979. BASOR Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research BBB Bulletin de bibliographie biblique BBR Bulletin for Biblical Research BCBC Believers Church Bible Commentary BDAG Danker, Frederick W., Walter Bauer, William F. Arndt, and F. Wilbur Gingrich. Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. 3rd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000. BDF Blass, Friedrich, Albert Debrunner, and Robert W. Funk. A Greek Grammar of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961. BECNT Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament BETL Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium BGL Bibliothek der Griechischen Literature Bib Biblica BibInt Biblical Interpretation Series BJS Brown Judaic Studies BMSEC Baylor-Mohr Siebeck Studies in Early Christianity Biblische Notizen BN BRLJ Brill Reference Library of Judaism BT Bibliothèque théologique BTB Biblical Theology Bulletin Biblical Tools and Studies BTS BZ Biblische Zeitschrift BZNW Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft Cahiers de la Revue Biblique CahRB CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly CBQMS Catholic Biblical Quarterly Monograph Series CC Calvin’s Commentaries CD Cairo Genizah copy of the Damascus Document CEB Common English Bible

xviii

CIJ CM ConBNT CRINT CSHJ CurBR CurTM DCLS DI DJD DJG DJG2 DSD EBib EC ECL EDSS EKKNT ESTJ ESV ET EvT EWNT Exp ExpTim FBBS

Abbreviations

Frey, Jean-Baptiste, ed. Corpus Inscriptionum Judaica­ rum. 2 vols. Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1936–1952. Christianity in the Making Coniectanea Biblica: New Testament Series Compendia Rerum Iudaicarum ad Novum Testamentum Chicago Studies in the History of Judaism Currents in Biblical Research Currents in Theology and Mission Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Studies Diné Israel Discoveries in the Judaean Desert Green, Joel B., and Scot McKnight, eds. Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1992. Green, Joel B., Jeannine K. Brown, and Nicholas Perrin, eds. Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels. 2nd ed. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2013. Dead Sea Discoveries Etudes bibliques Early Christianity Early Christianity and Its Literature Schiffman, Lawrence H., and James C. VanderKam, eds. Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls. 2 vols. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Evangelisch-katholischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament Gurtner, Daniel M., and Loren T. Stuckenbruck, eds. The T&T Clark Encyclopedia of Second Temple Judaism. 2 vols. London: T&T Clark, 2020. English Standard Version English text Evangelische Theologie Balz, Horst, and Gerhard Schneider. Exegetische Wörterbuch zum Neuen Testament. 3 vols. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1980–1983. The Expositor Expository Times Facet Books, Biblical Series



FC FCNTECW FIOTL FN FRLANT FSCS HBS HBT HOS HThKNT HTR HTS HUCA ICC IBHS IEJ Imm Int JBL JBTC JCPS JCT JDS JETS JJMJS JJS JLRS JQR JRS JSHJ JSJ

Abbreviations xix

Fathers of the Church Feminist Companion to the New Testament and Early Christian Writings Formation and Interpretation of Old Testament Literature Filología Neotestamentaria Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments Faith and Scholarship Colloquies Series History of Biblical Studies Horizons in Biblical Theology Handbook of Oriental Studies Herders Theologischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament Harvard Theological Review Harvard Theological Studies Hebrew Union College Annual International Critical Commentary Waltke, Bruce, and Michael O’Connor. An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990. Israel Exploration Journal Immanuel Interpretation Journal of Biblical Literature A Journal of Biblical Textual Criticism Jewish and Christian Perspectives Series Jewish and Christian Texts in Context Judean Desert Studies Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society Journal of the Jesus Movement in Its Jewish Setting from the First to the Seventh Century Journal of Jewish Studies Journal of Law, Religion and State Jewish Quarterly Review Journal of Roman Studies Journal for the Study of the Historical Jesus Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic, and Roman Periods

xx

JSJSup JSNT JSNTSup JSOT JSOTSup JSP JSPSup JSRC JTS KJV KWJS L&N

LBS LD LHBOTS LNTS LPTR LSJ LSTS LTPM LW MQR NA28 NAB NASB NCBC NEB NETS

Abbreviations

Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic, and Roman Periods Supplement Series Journal for the Study of the New Testament Journal for the Study of the New Testament Supplement Series Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha Supplement Series Jerusalem Studies in Religion and Culture Journal of Theological Studies King James Version Key Words in Jewish Studies Louw, Johannes P., and Eugene A. Nida, eds. GreekEnglish Lexicon of the New Testament: Based on Semantic Domains. 2nd ed. New York: United Bible Societies, 1989. Library of Biblical Studies Lectio Divina The Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies The Library of New Testament Studies Linzer philosophisch-theologische Reihe Liddell, Henry George, Robert Scott, Henry Stuart Jones. A Greek-English Lexicon. 9th ed. with revised supplement. Oxford: Clarendon, 1996. The Library of Second Temple Studies Louvain Theological and Pastoral Monographs Luther’s Works Mennonite Quarterly Review Novum Testamentum Graece, Nestle-Aland, 28th ed. New American Bible New American Standard Bible New Cambridge Bible Commentary New English Bible Pietersma, Albert, and Benjamin G. Wright, eds. A New English Translation of the Septuagint. New York: Oxford University Press, 2007.



NICNT NIGTC NIV NJB NJPS NLT NovT NovTSup NRSV NTAbh NTApoc

NTC NTD NTOA NTR NTS NTTSD ODJR OTP OTS P.Yadin

PGNT PMB

Abbreviations xxi

New International Commentary on the New Testament New International Greek Testament Commentary New International Version New Jerusalem Bible Tanakh: The Holy Scriptures: The New JPS Translation according to the Traditional Hebrew Text New Living Translation Novum Testamentum Supplements to Novum Testamentum New Revised Standard Version Neutestamentliche Abhandlungen Schneemelcher, Wilhelm, ed. New Testament Apocrypha. 2 vols. Revised ed. English trans. ed. Robert McL. Wilson. Rev. ed. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2003. New Testament in Context Das Neue Testament Deutsch Novum Testamentum et Orbis Antiquus New Testament Readings New Testament Studies New Testament Tools, Studies, and Documents Grossman, Maxine, ed. Oxford Dictionary of the Jewish Religion. 2nd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011. Charlesworth, James H., ed. Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. 2 vols. New York: Doubleday, 1983, 1985. Old Testament Studies Lewis, Naphtali. The Documents from the Bar Kohkba Period in the Cave of Letters: Greek Papyri and Aramaic and Nabatean Signatures and Subscriptions. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, Hebrew University of Jerusalem and the Shrine of the Book, 1989; Yadin, Yigael, Jonas C. Greenfield, Ada Yardeni, and Baruch A. Levine., eds. The Documents from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters: Hebrew, Aramaic and Nabatean-Aramaic Papyri. JDS. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, Institute of Archaeology, Hebrew University and Shrine of the Book, Israel Museum, 2002. Phoenix Guides to the New Testament Publications of the Museum of the Bible

xxii

PTMS PTSDSSP RB REB REDS RevExp RevQ RGRW RHPR RSV SAC SANT SBB SBEC SBTJT SBLDS SBLSP SBLStBL SBM SBT ScrHier SE SFSHJ SJT SNTI SNTSMS SNTW SP SR ST STDJ SUNT SVTP SymS TDNT

Abbreviations

Princeton Theological Monograph Series Princeton Theological Seminary Dead Sea Scrolls Project Revue biblique Revised English Bible Reformed Exegetical Doctrinal Studies Review and Expositor Revue de Qumran Religions in the Graeco-Roman World Revue d’ histoire et de philosophie religieuses Revised Standard Version Studies in Antiquity and Christianity Studien zum Alten und Neuen Testaments Stuttgarter biblische Beiträge Studies in the Bible and Early Christianity The Southern Baptist Journal of Theology Society of Biblical Literature Dissertation Series Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers Society of Biblical Literature Studies in Biblical Literature Stuttgarter biblische Monographien Studia Biblica et Theologica Scripta Hierosolymitana Sciences Ecclésiastiques South Florida Studies in the History of Judaism Scottish Journal of Theology Studies in New Testament Interpretation Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series Studies of the New Testament and Its World Sacra Pagina Studies in Religion Studia Theologica Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah Studien zur Umwelt des Neuen Testaments Studia in Veteris Testamenti Pseudepigrapha Symposium Series Kittel, Gerhard, and Gerhard Friedrich, eds. Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Translated by Geoffrey



TENTS TEV ThTo TKNT TS TSR TSAJ TynBul UBS5 VT VTSup WA WBC WFT WMANT WUNT YJS ZAW ZECNT ZNW

Abbreviations xxiii

W. Bromiley. 10 vols. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964– 1976. Texts and Editions for New Testament Study Today’s English Version Theology Today Theologischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament Theological Studies Toronto Studies in Religion Texte und Studien zum antiken Judentum Tyndale Bulletin The Greek New Testament, United Bible Societies, 5th ed. Vetus Testamentum Supplements to Vetus Testamentum Luther, Martin. D. Martin Luthers Werke. Kritische Gesamtausgabe. 73 vols. Weimar: Herman Böhlaus Nachfolger, 1883–2009 Word Biblical Commentary Works of the Fathers in Translation Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testament Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament Yale Judaica Series Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft Zondervan Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der älteren Kirche

Introduction: The Location of the Matthew-within-Judaism Perspective in Past and Present Research Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

As the title of this book suggests, Matthew within Judaism is a collection of specialized essays addressing key themes as they relate to the larger issue of the Gospel of Matthew and Second Temple Judaism. The subtitle further signals this dynamic through the word pair Israel and nations and echoes main concerns in recent Matthean scholarship. Together, the title and subtitle problematize the bidirectionality of central issues in Matthean scholarship: Matthew’s Gospel within Second Temple Judaism, on the one hand, and Israel and the nations in Matthew’s Gospel, on the other. The themes to be discussed in the book relate in various ways to these narrative realities. As early as the writings of Papias, the Judaic character of Matthew’s Gospel has been the subject of considerable conversation. More recent generations have framed the matter in terms of the Matthean community and its relation(s) to late first-century Judaism. Though scholarly discourse has ebbed and flowed, there has recently been a steep rise in interest in Matthew’s Gospel understood as a Jewish text, and several monographs have already been authored arguing such a case from different perspectives.1 1. See, e.g., Matthias Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew, trans. Kathleen Ess, BMSEC 2 (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2014); David L. Turner, Israel’s Last Prophet: Jesus and the Jewish Leaders in Matthew 23 (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015); Matthias Konradt, Studien zum Matthäusevangelium, ed. Alida Euler, WUNT 358 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016); Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016); Akiva Cohen, Matthew and the Mishnah: Redefining Identity and Ethos in the Shadow of the Second Temple’s Destruction, WUNT 2/418 (Tübingen:

-1-

2

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

This renewed interest in understanding the nature of Matthew’s story and its socioreligious location within first-century Jewish settings may be contextualized from a synchronic and a diachronic perspective, respectively. In the following, instead of a more traditional survey of recent research, we shall sketch briefly what we see as the key components of these two contexts, the larger interpretive matrix in which the current study of Matthew within Judaism is taking shape. In other words, the aim here is to frame an understanding of the larger picture of how present Matthean scholarship is connected with both its own past and the current moment of New Testament studies more generally for a more complete perspective of the field of scholarly inquiry into which the essays of this volume speak. Synchronically, recent developments in the study of Matthew resonate with a larger context within which researchers reread New Testament texts more generally as expressions of specific forms of Judaism.2 ConMohr Siebeck, 2016); Catherine S. Hamilton, The Death of Jesus in Matthew: Innocent Blood and the End of Exile, SNTSMS 167 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017); Mothy Varkey, Salvation in Continuity: A Reconsideration of Matthean Soteriology (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2017); Layang Seng Ja, The Pharisees in Matthew 23 Reconsidered (Carlisle, UK: Langham, 2018); John Kampen, Matthew within Sectarian Judaism: An Examination (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2019). 2. While the extensive work of recontextualizing the Pauline literature and the historical Paul within Judaism has received a lot of attention, this academic development is much larger and shows no signs of slowing down. On Paul, see the studies in Mark D. Nanos and Magnus Zetterholm, Paul within Judaism: Restoring the FirstCentury Context to the Apostle (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015), and, most recently, Paula Fredriksen, Paul: The Pagans’ Apostle (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2017). On the gospels, the most recent works include two PhD dissertations: Wally V. Cirafesi, “John within Judaism: Religion, Ethnicity, and the Shaping of Jesus-Oriented Jewishness in the Fourth Gospel” (PhD diss., University of Oslo, 2018); John Van Maaren, “The Gospel of Mark within Judaism: Reading the Second Gospel in Its Ethnic Landscape” (PhD diss., McMaster University, 2019). On Mark, see also Daniel Boyarin, The Jewish Gospels: The Story of the Jewish Christ (New York: New Press, 2012). On LukeActs, as compared with Matthew, see especially Isaac W. Oliver, Torah Praxis after 70 CE: Reading Matthew and Luke-Acts as Jewish Texts, WUNT 2/355 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013). The new monograph series published by Wipf & Stock also belongs within this larger development in the field: the New Testament after Supersessionism (NTAS); the first volumes were published in 2017. While this series speaks of postsupersessionism as a “family of theological perspectives that affirms God’s irrevocable covenant with the Jewish people,” the readings provided in these monographs are based firmly in historical analysis of the New Testament texts. In the context of academic journals, the Journal of the Jesus Movement in Its Jewish Setting: From the First



Introduction 3

trary to much previous research, such studies often problematize or reject approaches that aim to understand the New Testament against the background of Judaism and Jewish life. Instead, they approach these texts as specific expressions of Judaism, as part of one (diverse) trajectory among several others within a pluriform ethnoreligious tradition that displayed, as did other trajectories, various levels of openness to non-Jews.3 One of the key insights that lies behind this wider development concerns the diversity of Judaism in and around the turn of the era. Current readings of New Testament texts in the context of Judaism, or as expressions of Judaism, thus have deep roots in scholarship on Second Temple Judaism, a field that has itself evolved significantly over the last half-century or so, building on critical work done already in the early twentieth century.4 Briefly stated, the basic logic at the hermeneutical core of the to the Seventh Century (www.jjmjs.org), established in 2014 and now published by Hebrew University, University of Oslo, and DePaul University, has an interdisciplinary focus and emphasizes methodological diversity in the approach to issues related to early interactions between the Jesus movement, in its diverse forms, and other Jews in the ancient Mediterranean world. 3. For sources and discussion of the place of non-Jews in Jewish thought and practice, see Terence L. Donaldson, Judaism and the Gentiles: Jewish Patterns of Universalism (to 135 CE) (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2007); David C. Sim and James S. McLaren, eds., Attitudes to Gentiles in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity, LNTS 499 (London: Bloomsbury, 2013). 4. One of the most influential studies paving the way for a new understanding of Judaism in the field of New Testament studies was, unquestionably, E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977), 33–428. Sanders, however, was not the first to problematize the way in which New Testament scholars dealt with and understood ancient Judaism. For earlier work in this area, see esp. George Foot Moore, “Christian Writers on Judaism,” HTR 14 (1921): 197–294; Moore, Judaism in the First Centuries of the Christian Era: The Age of the Tannaim, 3 vols. (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1927–1930); Erik Sjöberg, Gott und die Sünder im palästinischen Judentum nach dem Zeugnis der Tannaiten und der apokryphisch-pseudepigraphischen Literatur (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1939); Claude G. Montefiore and Herbert M. J. Loewe, A Rabbinic Anthology (London: Macmillan, 1938). Montefiore also wrote commentaries on the Synoptic Gospels, understood from a Jewish perspective: The Synoptic Gospels, Edited with an Introduction and a Commentary, 2nd rev. ed., 2 vols. (London: Macmillan, 1909–1927). See also Henrik Ljungman, Guds barmhärtighet och dom: Fariséernas lära om de två “måtten” (Lund: Gleerup, 1950). For contemporary studies on Jewish interpretation of the Bible, which deal, comparatively, also with Christian interpretive approaches and thus continue along a similar trajectory as the above, see Karin Hedner Zetterholm, Jewish Inter-

4

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

developments we observe today—which then evolve in different directions as scholars tackle the issues at hand from different perspectives—is that, if Judaism can no longer be understood as a monolithic entity, it would be methodologically fallacious to approach the New Testament against the background of, or comparing it to, “Judaism.”5 Rather, focusing on the various expressions of Judaism in and around the first century CE as comparanda opens up new ground for a more complex understanding of the nature of the texts included in the New Testament and how they fit discursively and socioreligiously within this heterogeneous landscape. Mutatis mutandis, the study of ancient Judaism has begun to incorporate into its curriculum the study of the New Testament.6 We have likely seen pretation of the Bible: Ancient and Contemporary (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012). See also Wayne O. McCready and Adele Reinhartz, eds., Common Judaism: Explorations in Second-Temple Judaism (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2008), a volume dedicated to Sanders on the occasion of his retirement from Duke University. This volume includes an updated discussion of “common Judaism” by Sanders (Paul and Palestinian Judaism, 11–23). Sanders’s impact on the field is discussed extensively in a special issue of JJMJS celebrating the fortieth anniversary of Paul and Palestinian Judaism: JJMJS 5 (2018): 1–110. 5. This concern was raised explicitly, as applied to the study of Matthew, already by Alan F. Segal, “Matthew’s Jewish Voice,” in Social History of the Matthean Community: Cross-Disciplinary Approaches, ed. David L. Balch (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991), 3–37, esp. 15, 35, 37. As Segal points out, even a movement such as Pharisaism displayed a certain level of diversity, a fact that serves as a point of departure for, e.g., Seng Ja, Pharisees in Matthew 23. Such a situation should not, however, come as a surprise, considering the widely recognized diversity within the Jesus movement itself as it developed in the first and later centuries, which is witnessed both within and outside the Christian canon. 6. See Segal, “Matthew’s Jewish Voice,” 3: “Therefore, the Christian evidence is more crucial for understanding and dating the development of rabbinic Judaism than the reverse, which exactly reverses the methodology most often used today.” For an application of such an approach, see Serge Ruzer, Mapping the New Testament: Early Christian Writings as a Witness for Jewish Biblical Exegesis, JCPS 13 (Leiden: Brill, 2007). See also Jonathan Klawans, Purity, Sacrifice and the Temple: Symbolism and Supersessionism in the Study of Ancient Judaism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006). The interdependent relationship between what eventually became Judaism and Christianity, as we define these religions today, is emphasized in several recent studies devoted to analyzing the so-called parting of the ways between these traditions. See most recently Joshua E. Burns, The Christian Schism in Jewish History and Jewish Memory (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2016); Annette Yoshiko Reed, Fallen Angels and the History of Judaism and Christianity: The Reception of Enochic Literature



Introduction 5

only the beginning of this process of interpenetration between these academic fields, both in terms of the source material utilized and in terms of the methodologies, categories, and concepts applied. Indeed, to many researchers working with these and related issues, current scholarly practices in these respective fields in themselves challenge the very idea of the study of early Judaism and Christianity as belonging within distinct disciplines, both academically and in terms of how university programs are structured institutionally. To this renewed attention given to the diverse nature of first-century Judaism, including the methodological implications for New Testament studies that follow from it, we must also add the more recent discussions of early Christianity, which problematize its existence as a distinct religion in the first century. Indeed, the term itself, Christianismos, was not used until the second century (Ignatius) and, even then, only rarely; it was unknown, as far as the evidence can tell us, to the authors of the New Testament texts.7 While some scholars would still use terms such as Christianity, or early/earliest Christianity, referring to the nascent phases of (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005). For the role of archaeology in the study of this issue, see Anders Runesson, “Architecture, Conflict, and Identity Formation: Jews and Christians in Capernaum from the First to the Sixth Century,” in Religion, Ethnicity and Identity in Ancient Galilee: A Region in Transition, ed. Jürgen Zangenberg, Harold W. Attridge, and Dale Martin, WUNT 210 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007), 231–57. On the academic study of those in between, the so-called Jewish Christians, see the helpful discussion of the history of the field in F. Stanley Jones, ed., The Rediscovery of Jewish Christianity: From Toland to Baur, HBS 5 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2012). Ancient Christian sources are collected in the now-classic volume by Albertus F. J. Klijn and Gerrit J. Reinink, Patristic Evidence for Jewish-Christian Sects, NovTSup 36 (Leiden: Brill, 1973). 7. It is often noted that, on three occasions, two texts included in the New Testament mention the term Christianoi, “Christians” (Acts 11:26; 26:28; 1 Pet 4:16). While some would understand this term to signal continuity with later forms of mainstream (non-Jewish) Christianity and thus represent a departure from Jewish settings, others would point out that the word basically means “Messianics” and that it should rather be understood as a group designation applied within a discursive context where we also find the use of terms such as Pharisaioi and Saddoukaioi. On this point, the authors of this introduction have slightly divergent interpretations. Whereas Runesson would emphasize the meaning of the term Christianoi in Acts and 1 Peter as intertwined with the Jewish setting in which it was used along with terms such as Pharisaioi, Gurtner puts more emphasis on continuity with later uses of the term Christian in the context of what we now refer to as Christianity.

6

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

the Jesus movement, many do so for convenience, aware of the problems involved. Others, however, are seeking new ways of defining and naming both the Jesus movement and the earliest texts it produced, signaling the nature of the texts as intertwined with Jewish life and thought rather than with their later (non-Jewish) reception. It is when insights gained from these two larger areas of research— emphasizing the pluriform nature of Second Temple Judaism, on the one hand, and problematizing the assumption that Christianity existed as a distinct religion, on the other—coalesce that we see the current intensification of the study of the New Testament as a witness to a species within the genus Judaism, the latter itself entangled in the discursive and socioritual cultures of the Mediterranean world. It is within this broader academic context that we may contextualize, synchronically, the current surge in the study of Matthew within Judaism. But within this context, research on the First Gospel displays, historically, a rather distinct trajectory when compared with other New Testament texts, since it has almost always been understood in both church and academia, in one way or another, as the “Jewish” gospel. Turning to the diachronic context of the study of Matthew, we shall highlight some of the larger issues involved when the First Gospel has been read as Jewish.8 Traditionally, the early church understood the Gospel of Matthew as having been authored by the apostle Matthew, that is, the Jewish tax collector turned disciple (see Matt 9:9; 10:3; see also Mark 3:18; Luke 6:15; Acts 1:13). The first undisputed evidence for this view is Irenaeus (ca. 180 CE; Irenaeus, Haer. 3.1.1; see also Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 5.8.2), but, as noted above, it can be traced back to Papias (ca. 70–163 CE), from whom Ire8. The following is not meant as a comprehensive discussion of all themes in the study of Matthew. The focus is rather on how this gospel has been studied in relation to Judaism more specifically. For more comprehensive discussions of the study of Matthew, see Graham N. Stanton, “Introduction: Matthew’s Gospel in Recent Scholarship (1994),” in The Interpretation of Matthew, 2nd ed., ed. Graham N. Stanton, SNTI (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1995), 1–26; Daniel M. Gurtner, “The Gospel of Matthew from Stanton to Present: A Survey of Some Recent Developments,” in Jesus, Matthew’s Gospel, and Early Christianity: Studies in Memory of Graham N. Stanton, ed. Gurtner, Joel Willitts, and Richard A. Burridge, LNTS 435 (London: T&T Clark, 2011), 23–38; David C. Sim, “Matthew: The Current State of Research,” in Mark and Matthew I: Comparative Readings; Understanding the Earliest Gospels in Their First-Century Settings, ed. Eve-Marie Becker and Anders Runesson, WUNT 271 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 33–51.



Introduction 7

naeus likely received this tradition.9 While the idea that Matthew’s Gospel was originally written in Hebrew is a much-disputed issue in modern scholarship, it is clear that the early church—and indeed, church tradition until the emergence of modern historical research in the eighteenth century—believed this to have been the case.10 Our interest here, however, is not so much that these ancient and mediaeval authors thought this to be the case, but rather what this understanding meant for how they perceived of the nature of the First Gospel, especially as it was thought to have been written originally in Hebrew, that is, not only by a Jew but also for Jews, as Irenaeus claims. A brief answer to that question would be that traditional readings of Matthew as written for Jews reflect (non-Jewish) Christian supersessionist concerns. That is, Matthew was thought to have been written in order to persuade Jews to become Christians, the conversion process implying that they left behind their Jewish identity as they joined a new religion. Judaism was, consequently, understood as having been replaced by Christianity, and Christians, not Jews, constituted the new, or true, people of God. Such reading practices were likely triggered not only by religious or theological concerns, as if there were in the Jesus movement some inherent qualities that necessitated a development in this direction, but more so by specific late-antique cultural, social, political, and economic factors. Indeed, as it became important in such contexts to lay claim to ancient Israelite/Jewish 9. On Papias on Matthew, see Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.39.16: “About Matthew this was said: ‘Matthew collected the oracles [λόγια] in the Hebrew language [διαλέκτω], and each interpreted them as best he could’ ” (Lake). Robert H. Gundry, “The Apostolically Johannine Pre-Papian Tradition concerning the Gospels of Mark and Matthew,” in Gundry, The Old Is Better: New Testament Essays in Support of Traditional Interpretations (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005), 49–73, has argued that Papias, in turn, received this tradition ultimately from John the disciple of Jesus, thus contextualizing the claim in the first century. This suggestion has, however, not found many supporters in scholarship; for discussion, see David C. Sim, “The Gospel of Matthew, John the Elder, and the Papias Tradition: A Response to Robert H. Gundry,” HTS 63 (2007): 283–99. 10. See Sim, “Gospel of Matthew, John the Elder,” 284. Indeed, one may note also that Eusebius recounts a story of how a Hebrew version (Hebraiōn grammasi) of Matthew’s Gospel was brought to India by Bartholomew and found there by a certain Pantainos, head of the school in Alexandria, who is said to have traveled to India in the late second century (Hist. eccl. 5.10). In other words, for Eusebius, not only did Matthew originate in Hebrew, but the Hebrew version was widespread due to the travels and missionary activities of the apostles.

8

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

traditions, discourses of divine condemnation of the Jewish people, as a people, were interwoven with Christian theology. The result was a theological worldview in which the marginalization, suffering, and even death of the former was necessary to claim the truth of the latter.11 While the explicit normative dimensions to such claims have since receded into the background, key features of this type of Christian theological understandings of the Jewish nature of Matthew’s Gospel—that Matthew was written for Jews with the aim of converting them to (nonJewish) Christians—have, until recently, remained prominent in modern scholarship. Indeed, around the mid-1900s, this mode of reasoning was taken to what would seem to be its logical conclusion, as a number of scholars, beginning with Kenneth Clark in 1947, argued that Matthew’s Gospel was authored not by a Jew but by a gentile and displayed a gentile bias.12 Thus, while the traditional understanding that Matthew was authored by a Jew aiming at converting Jews to (non-Jewish) Christianity—along lines similar to the medieval debates in which a converted Jew argued against leading representatives of his own former Jewish community13—these scholars in the mid-1900s and somewhat later seem to have 11. The examples of such discursive practices are innumerable, expressed both in writing and in art, from the church fathers—Jerome’s commentary on Matthew provides a typical, and influential, case—to the medieval period (see the so-called living crosses, where one of the arms of the cross crowns the church and the other executes the synagogue; see Schreckenberg) and beyond. Heinz Schreckenberg, The Jews in Christian Art: An Illustrated History (New York: Continuum, 1996), 64–66; see esp. pls. 5–6, as well as fig. 2. To support this type of theology, certain readings of Matt 27:25 have been employed in larger theological discourses claiming that Jews live under an eternal curse, which in turn explains their current marginalization and suffering in Christian societies. Such readings have been upheld also in Protestant tradition; see, e.g., Martin Luther’s Vom Shem Hamphoras und vom Geschlecht Christi, WA 53:587. 12. Kenneth W. Clark, “The Gentile Bias in Matthew,” JBL 66 (1947): 165–72. See also Samuel Sandmel, A Jewish Understanding of the New Testament (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 1956); Poul Nepper-Christensen, Das Matthäusevangelium: Ein judenchristliches Evangelium?, ATDan 1 (Aarhus: Universitetsforlaget, 1958); Georg Strecker, Der Weg der Gerechtigkeit: Untersuchung zur Theologie des Matthäus, 3rd ed., FRLANT 82 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1971); Sjef van Tilborg, The Jewish Leaders in Matthew (Leiden: Brill, 1972); Michael J. Cook, “Interpreting ‘ProJewish’ Passages in Matthew,” HUCA 54 (1983): 135–46. 13. There are several examples of this infamous practice, staged by Christian authorities aiming at converting Jews. Perhaps one of the more well-known is the



Introduction 9

taken the same normatively embedded version of history and stripped it of one of its components (the Jewish “prosecutor”) without challenging the core of the theological narrative itself, that is, the replacement paradigm. In a way, this makes hermeneutical sense, as the paradigm itself grew from and was nurtured within non-Jewish Christian communities from late antiquity onwards. The suggestion that Matthew would have been written by a non-Jew met with resistance rather soon, however, and did not succeed in convincing the majority of New Testament scholars. Interestingly, from this time onward we see a double trajectory developing in Matthean scholarship, a fork in the road, or parting of ways of sorts, if the expression be allowed. Both of these trajectories regard Matthew as written by a Jew, or within a Jewish setting, but they do so in fundamentally different ways. The first reverted, one might say, to the basic approach of the traditional Christian reading of Matthew but added much sophistication to its overall reconstruction of the author, the text, and its context. One of the most important voices exemplifying this trajectory, reinventing and modernizing the basic narrative of the church fathers, has been and remains Protestant exegete Ulrich Luz.14 For other scholars, however, this type of reconstruction, in which Matthew’s Jewishness is interpreted as an example of someone who parts ways with his own former “religion,” even understanding the very peoplehood of Israel to have lost its meaning, leaves the text with a narrative scar that

Paris trial of 1240 against the Babylonian Talmud—and, of course, against the Jewish defense panel under the leadership of Rabbi Yeḥiel ben Joseph. In this “trial,” the key prosecutor was Nicholas Donin, an apostate Jew turned Franciscan friar. For an interesting discussion of this tragic episode in French history in light of the larger issue of the history of the Jewish-Christian schism, see Burns, Christian Schism, 1–18. 14. See especially his multivolume commentary on Matthew, first published in German and then revised and translated into English as Ulrich Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, 3 vols., Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007). See also Graham N. Stanton, A Gospel for a New People: Studies in Matthew (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1992); Petri Luomanen, Entering the Kingdom of Heaven: A Study on the Structure of Matthew’s View of Salvation, WUNT 2/101 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1998); Boris Repschinski, The Controversy Stories in the Gospel of Matthew: Their Redaction, Form and Relevance for the Relationship between the Matthean Community and Formative Judaism, FRLANT 189 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000); Paul Foster, Community, Law and Mission in Matthew’s Gospel, WUNT 2/177 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004).

10

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

does not seem to heal, no matter the level of theoretical sophistication. These scholars, uneasy with reconstructions they feel create both narrative and historical inconsistencies, represent a new trajectory, moving away from both the traditional Christian replacement narrative and the gentile-bias approach of the mid-1900s. While diverse approaches and perspectives are contained within this overall trajectory, which we have chosen to call “Matthew within Judaism,” the common ground that may be identified understands the Matthean narrative and the context in which it was produced—its inception history—not as something to be understood against the background of Second Temple Judaism, but as an expression of it. As such, Matthew’s Gospel is believed to cede to the historian its appropriate original meaning(s) when read together with other diverse forms of Judaism around the turn of the era. At its core, this new trajectory, which aims at restoring the first-century context of the First Gospel, thus departs from more than fifteen hundred years of normative and theological readings of Matthew and should not be confused with the other types of readings mentioned above, in which Matthew is also regarded as the Jewish gospel. In fact, as it emphasizes the historical otherness of the Matthean world in relation to current mainstream Christian theology and problematizes, on methodological grounds, the so-called replacement or supersessionist paradigm, which the church fathers weaved into this theology, the Matthew-within-Judaism trajectory does not sit comfortably with much of traditional Christian hermeneutics. For these scholars, Matthew’s Gospel represents a form of Judaism, not Christianity. While this trajectory in Matthean studies—the Matthew-within-Judaism paradigm—recently experienced a major surge as it merged with the larger developments in New Testament studies we discussed above and which constitutes its synchronic context,15 it is rooted in work done some thirty years ago. One of the first studies signaling an emerging break with earlier understandings of the nature of Matthew’s Jewishness was Amy-Jill Levine’s The Social and Ethnic Dimensions of Matthean Salvation History, published in 1988.16 This often-quoted monograph triggered further research taking a 15. See above, n. 1, for examples of recent monographs. 16. Amy-Jill Levine, The Social and Ethnic Dimensions of Matthean Salvation History: “Go Nowhere among the Gentiles …” (Matt. 10:5b), SBEC 14 (Lewiston, NY: Mellen, 1988). Levine, who was one of the first suggesting that Matthean communi-



Introduction 11

social-science approach, including especially those works that highlight the ethnic dimension and the issue of circumcision. The same year, W. D. Davies and Dale Allison published the first volume of their unmatched three-volume commentary on Matthew.17 This commentary has provided a solid verse-by-verse foundation for renewed scholarship on Matthew as a Second Temple Jewish text. Its publication soon led to a rise in interest in Matthean scholarship more generally. Indeed, it likely represents the single most influential commentary on Matthew since the time of the church fathers; it is difficult to envisage the emergence of the current developments without it.18 Two years later, in 1990, J. Andrew Overman’s Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism: The Social World of the Matthean Community took the social-science perspective further as he worked extensively with what he called formative Judaism in order to place Matthew in a Jewish social setting, understanding Matthew as representing a Jewish group opposing a majority form of Judaism in Galilee.19 Subsequently, in 1996, Overman published a commentary, Church and Community in Crisis: The Gospel of Matthew, thus working his social science–based Matthew-within-Judaism perspective into commentary form.20 Perhaps the best-known study, indeed, in many ways representing a foundational platform for the development of the Matthew-within-Judaism trajectory, is Anthony Saldarini’s monograph Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community.21 Here we find a systematic, thematically oriented, and ties likely continued the practice of circumcision, has since published extensively on Matthew, highlighting its Jewish context. In terms of terminology, however, Levine may still speak of Matthew as a Christian, not a Jewish, text. See Levine, “Matthew’s Advice to a Divided Readership,” in The Gospel of Matthew in Current Study: Studies in Memory of William G. Thompson, S.J., ed. David Aune (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 30. 17. W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., The Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997). 18. Other important commentaries written with special attention given to Matthew’s Jewishness, understood from this new perspective, include John Nolland’s The Gospel of Matthew: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005); David L. Turner, Matthew, BECNT (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2008). 19. J. Andrew Overman, Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism: The Social World of the Matthean Community (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990). 20. J. Andrew Overman, Church and Community in Crisis: The Gospel according to Matthew, NTC (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1996). 21. Anthony J. Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, CSHJ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994). It may be noted in the context of the current

12

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

detailed take on Matthew’s text understood, consistently, as an expression of Judaism, based on, as he says, “our increased knowledge of the first-century social history of Jews and Jewish-believers-in Jesus in Greater Syria.”22 A couple of years later, in 1996, David Sim established himself as major contributor to this developing trajectory as he published his PhD thesis, Apocalyptic Eschatology in the Gospel of Matthew.23 Only two years later Sim solidified this approach to Matthew with his equally important The Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism.24 In between these early and in many ways pioneering works and the recent explosion of Matthean studies taking a historical Matthew-withinJudaism perspective, we find a steady stream of important monographs building momentum. Understanding Matthew’s Gospel through the lens of empire studies, in 2000 Warren Carter contributed an innovative take on the Jewishness of the text.25 In 2007 Daniel Gurtner focused on the death of Jesus as understood through its interpretation in Matthew’s version of the torn veil.26 The same year Joel Willitts, and then in 2012 Wayne Baxter, approached Matthew as an expression of Judaism through analyses of its shepherd motif.27 volume that Saldarini’s first chapter is titled “Matthew within First-Century Judaism.” See also the discussion of Saldarini’s work on Matthew in Alan J. Avery-Peck, Daniel J. Harrington, and Jacob Neusner, eds., Christianity in the Beginning, vol. 1 of When Judaism and Christianity Began: Essays in Memory of Anthony J. Saldarini, JSJSup 85 (Leiden: Brill, 2004). 22. Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 4. He continues: “The final composition of the text and its setting within first-century Judaism are the key to understanding Matthew’s view of Judaism and his group’s place within it.” This conviction lies at the foundation of the Matthew-within-Judaism research trajectory as it has developed today. 23. David C. Sim, Apocalyptic Eschatology and the Gospel of Matthew, SNTSMS 88 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996). 24. David C. Sim, The Gospel of Mathew and Christian Judaism: The History and Social Setting of the Matthean Community, SNTW (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998). 25. Warren Carter, Matthew and Empire: Initial Explorations (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 2001). Among his several books, Matthew and the Margins: A Socio-political and Religious Reading (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2000) presents his overall take on the narrative and its progression. 26. Daniel M. Gurtner, The Torn Veil: Matthew’s Exposition of the Death of Jesus, SNTSMS 139 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007). 27. Joel Willitts, Matthew’s Messianic Shepherd King: In Search of “the Lost Sheep of the House of Israel,” BZNW 147 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007); Wayne Baxter, Israel’s



Introduction 13

Like multiple streams merging into a river, these monographs—and a large number of articles and book chapters—have contributed to the growth of the now substantial research trajectory we call Matthew within Judaism. In light of the current wider developments in New Testament studies, this river is now, in turn, joined by other streams of within-Judaism approaches to diverse texts and genres, which, taken together, may signal the emergence of a paradigm shift in the historical study of the New Testament. Again, this does not mean that Matthean studies have already developed into some sort of interpretive homogeneity within this trajectory, or even less so in terms of the study of the New Testament more generally. But it does mean that what we see now is very likely only the beginning of a major new development in New Testament studies, which moves toward a first-century Jewish understanding of these texts beyond traditional Christian approaches, even as the latter have been dressed in academic garb. Widening the perspective, it is too early to say what this will eventually mean hermeneutically for churches taking historical research seriously in their theological work, or for Jewish and Christian relations and dialogue. One thing is certain, though, and that is that this new historical paradigm will provide a major challenge—and therefore also new opportunities—in both of these settings. Discussions of such challenges and opportunities are, however, beyond the scope of this book. In the present volume, which was born out of conversations from the Society of Biblical Literature Annual Meeting’s Matthew Section (San Antonio, 2016), we aim to present some of the important current approaches to Matthew within Judaism. Doing so, we have not shied away from including critical voices that challenge this interpretive trajectory to develop its arguments further. Based on Society of Biblical Literature conversations and the recent developments in Matthean scholarship described above, we believe the time is right for precisely this type of multiauthored volume. It brings together numerous perspectives and views in one place, all recognizing that a suitable reading of Matthew within its inceptionhistorical context requires careful consideration of the complexities of first-century forms of Judaism. While more work needs to be done and more perspectives are needed before we see the full interpretive potential of the Matthew-within-Judaism trajectory, the topics in which such

Only Shepherd: Matthew’s Shepherd Motif and His Social Setting, LNTS 457 (London: T&T Clark, 2012).

14

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

discussions currently occur may be said to fall within five thematically arranged categories, and we have structured the book accordingly. Part 1: Institutions and Law Essays in this section contribute to our understanding of the basic social and political structures at play in and behind the text of the Gospel of Matthew as they relate to institutions. In “Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter,” James G. Crossley contextualizes Matthew’s presentation of Jesus as halakic expert. He argues that not only does Matthew present Jesus as consistently torah observant, but he also presents Jesus as being conversant with the details of at least some strands of Pharisaic interpretation. There appears to be some connection, rivalry, and overlap with Pharisaic Judaism (at least as understood by Matthew), with acceptance of certain interpretations, shared assumptions in other instances, and sharp disagreements in specific others. Crossley finds this by covering a range of key legal topics in Matthew, including general statements concerning the torah as well as the so-called antitheses, divorce, lex talionis and vows, Sabbath, tithing, purity, handwashing, and burial of the dead (Matt 8:21–22) in relation to familial concerns. He concludes the essay with some reflections on the problems of connecting Matthew’s presentation of Jesus and the torah with torah observance in the Jesus movement more broadly. Jordan Ryan’s contribution is titled “The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching.” Here, Ryan contends that the Gospel of Matthew situates Jesus’s teaching activity during the Galilean phase of his ministry in synagogues in Matt 4:23. Though Matthew relates almost none of the content of Jesus’s synagogue teaching (see 9:35), from a narrative perspective, the synagogue teaching in Matt 4:23–25 introduces the teaching of the Sermon on the Mount. Ryan’s intent, then, is to examine the connection between the act of teaching in synagogues described in Matt 4:23a and Matthew’s presentation of the Sermon on the Mount in chapters 5–7. He argues that Matthew’s narrative of the sermon, though not set in a synagogue, clearly and intentionally evokes elements of a synagogue, harking back to the synagogue teaching described in its prologue in 4:23–5:2. While this literary connection has been made before, Ryan brings it into conversation with current scholarship on early synagogues. By considering the Sermon on the Mount and its connections to the institutional setting of the synagogue in light of current scholarship, he opens



Introduction 15

up new avenues of interpretation and sheds fresh light on the eschatological dimension of the Sermon on the Mount from a narrative perspective. In “Matthew and the Temple,” Akiva Cohen seeks to locate Matthew’s view of the temple within postexilic and rabbinic views of God’s presence in the second temple. This context frames Matthew’s view of the temple squarely within the dominant view of Second Temple groups who—in spite of various halakic tensions—understood the temple, and the ‫קדש הקדשים‬, as the locus of God’s presence. Cohen exposes the role of preunderstanding in the interpretive process by highlighting the divergent views held by Matthean scholars on Matthew and the temple. He also notes the trend in recent historical Jesus scholarship to portray Jesus’s view of the temple as a negative one that distances Jesus from Judaism. Cohen then engages in intertextual readings of Matthean and rabbinic views of the temple, which illustrates some conceptual overlap but emphasizes the divergent way in which both Matthew and the Tannaim ground their theological programs. Finally, he discusses Matthew’s view of the temple from various angles: Matthew’s canonical context, recent scholarship—which emphasizes Matthew’s positive view of the temple—the genealogy of Jesus, ἐκκλησία and temple, the fate of Israel and the temple’s destruction, and the transformation of the Matthean temple. Part 2: Ethnicity Essays in this part recognize that basic ethnic categories saturate the text with meaning and in varying ways demonstrate how the use of ethnic identity functions in the formation of theology with special attention to the law. Anders Runesson’s contribution is “Aspects of Matthean Universalism: Ethnic Identity as a Theological Tool in the First Gospel.” In it he acknowledges that when confronted with ethnic discourse in Matthew, scholars have traditionally emphasized passages commenting negatively on groups identifiable as Jewish and seen in such statements signs foreshadowing God’s rejection of Israel. This type of approach is often paired with an interpretation of positive portrayals of non-Jewish characters as signaling a universal mission. Conversely, when positive Jewish characters are encountered (such as Jesus’s parents and disciples), their ethnic identity goes unnoticed. Corresponding to this silence, negative statements about non-Jews are usually commented on in ways that avoid highlighting the significance of the ethnic identity of these characters.

16

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

These interpretations further add to a reading of the gospel in which indications of its critique of non-Jewish (political) culture and behavior vanish in favor of an assumed anti-Jewish outlook. Taken together, such interpretive practices have encouraged asymmetrical reading strategies in which the worst among characters identified as Jewish are compared with the best among non-Jewish individuals. The result has been a highly influential mode of interpretation in which Matthew’s story is understood as a story of religious universalization, such that ethnicity—as a dynamic theological category—is neutralized. Contrary to such interpretive trajectories, however, a close reading of Matthew’s narrative seems to reveal a sustained Matthean interest in ethnicity as a sense-making category. In fact, the entity “Israel” is never rejected in Matthew’s story. This does not mean, though, that the gospel would not proclaim a form of universalism in which non-Jews would be addressed and included. Indeed, Runesson argues that Matthew’s universalism is intertwined with ethnic discourses in intricate but narratively coherent ways. As the First Gospel is read through a lens focusing on ethnicity as a rhetorical and theological tool, light is also shed on major issues such as law and grace, showing how these, for Matthew, are part and parcel of a firstcentury Jewish worldview. After mapping the narrative role of ethnic categorization in three steps as related to group boundaries, shaming, and empire, the implications of ethnicity for how salvation is construed are addressed. “His Glorious Throne: Israel and the Gentiles in Mission and Judgment in the Gospel of Matthew” is written by David L. Turner. Building on the work of Matthias Konradt, Turner considers how Matthew portrays the ultimate messianic renewal of both Israel and the gentiles in light of the consequences of Jerusalem’s negative response to Jesus. This study engages the question of the future messianic renewal of Israel and the gentiles by considering the two texts that speak of Jesus sitting on “his glorious throne” (θρόνος δόξης αὐτοῦ). Turner examines the throne in biblical and Second Temple texts to consider Matt 19:28 and 25:31–46 in terms of mission and the future of Israel and the gentiles. He finds that mission in Matthew entails broader canonical themes pertaining to Jesus’s fulfillment of the torah and its role in forming the people of God. Just as Israel was accountable to the law of Moses and the prophets’ ongoing ministry, so the nations are accountable to the teaching of Jesus, which continues through the ministry of the apostles. The church’s mission to gentiles, then, as well as to Jews, continues until the Son of Man—who is



Introduction 17

also the Son of Abraham (see Gen 12:3; Ps 47:8–9) and the Son of David (see Isa 9:7; Jer 3:17)—comes to reign from his glorious throne. Terence L. Donaldson’s contribution is “ ‘Nations,’ ‘Non-Jewish Nations,’ or ‘Non-Jewish Individuals’: Matthew 28:19 Revisited.” Here Donaldson revisits the long-standing debate concerning the phrase πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in Matt 28:19: Does τὰ ἔθνη here have the distinctive Jewish sense of “non-Jewish nations,” or does it denote “all nations, including Israel”? At least until recently, the rendering “all the gentiles” has been tightly linked with an anti-Jewish reading of Matthew, in which the Jewish people as a whole, having rejected their Messiah (27:25), have in turn been rejected by God in favor of a new nation (21:43) drawn from all the non-Jewish nations (28:19). The appeal of the alternative interpretation of 28:19— that Jesus here commands a mission to all nations, including Israel—has been the perception that it leads to a less anti-Judaic reading of Matthew: the mission to all nations (28:19) represents an expansion, rather than an abrogation, of the mission to Israel commanded in chapter 10. While Donaldson has tended to favor the inclusive reading, his recent study of (πάντα) τὰ ἔθνη in Jewish and Greco-Roman usage has raised questions for him about its plausibility. In this paper Donaldson first sets out the evidence that seems to favor the exclusive sense, looking at (1) the full phrase πάντα τὰ ἔθνη and (2) the distinctive development in Jewish usage in which τὰ ἔθνη comes to refer to (non-Jewish) individuals rather than (non-Jewish) nations. Then he brings the results of this study into conversation with recent Matthew-within-Judaism approaches, to ask what it would mean for our understanding of Matthew’s Gospel if it concludes with the inauguration of a new mission to “all the gentiles,” one that is concurrent with and parallel to the already-established mission to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matt 10). Another approach to ethnicity questions is undertaken by Philip F. Esler in “Ethnic Identities in the Dead Sea Legal Papyri and Matthew: Reinterpreting Matthew 25:31–46.” For his analysis Esler utilizes the ancient legal papyri that have survived from the Dead Sea region, especially the thirty-five documents of the Babatha archive. These, Esler explains, contain important evidence on a variety of ethnic identities that encountered one another in that context: principally Judean, Nabatean, Greek, and Roman. He finds that the pattern that emerges is one of strong ethnic boundaries that nevertheless allowed interactions between the various groups, with some interactions permitted or prescribed and others proscribed. With this in mind, Esler explains that Matthew’s Gospel is a

18

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

text where ethnic identities and a transethnic Christ identity are pervasively present. On the imagined scenario that at around the end of the first century CE, not long after Matthew wrote his gospel, it reached the Dead Sea region and was read out to Christ groups there, this ethnic situation would have formed an important part of the context against which it was understood. In light of this interpretative matrix, Esler offers a fresh reading of Matthew’s account of the last judgment (25:31–46). Part 3: Jesus among Friends and Enemies Contextual readings of Matthew in this section address Jesus among friends and enemies. The essays here move from general social settings and ethnic categories to deal with more detailed group-related components of the narrative. In so doing these essays contribute to how interpreters understand the Matthean world. This includes groups with direct and indirect political influence, respectively, and how they are portrayed and function in the story; individuals, as they belong to or relate to the aforementioned groups; and Jesus himself—how he is portrayed, likewise, as belonging to or relating to these same groups, and what this may tell us about messianic models applied by the author(s) (“Christology”). Matthias Konradt advocates a “new perspective” on Matthew’s Gospel, which regards the text as a thoroughly Jewish document that reflects a conflict of Christ believers within Judaism. He addresses an important aspect of this in his essay, “The Role of the Crowds in Matthew’s Gospel,” in which he advocates a more nuanced reading of the narrative role of the crowds. Konradt observes Matthew’s strong tendency to clearly differentiate between the authorities and the crowds as well as the crowds’ positive reactions to Jesus’s ministry and their developing christological insight, which culminates in the acclamation of Jesus as the messianic son of David (21:9). But he also notes the distinction between the crowds and the disciples, in particular the role and the identity of the crowds in 27:11–26 and the relevance of this passage for the overall portrayal of the crowds in Matthew’s Gospel. Konradt argues that those who had struck up the “Hosanna to the Son of David” a few days before (21:9) are not those who now cry σταυρωθήτω. Rather, in light of 2:3; 16:21; 21:10–11; and 23:37(–39), the crowds in 27:11–26 are to be identified as a crowd from Jerusalem. Finally, the essay discusses the conclusions that might be drawn from Matthew’s presentation of the crowds with regard to the situation of the Christ-believing communities in Matthew’s time and surroundings.



Introduction 19

In “Whose King Is He Anyways? What Herod Tells Us about Matthew,” Wayne Baxter acknowledges that while the Jewish nature of the First Gospel has long been recognized, determining its socioreligious implications remains hotly disputed. The apostle Paul has been understood as a Jew who appeared more than willing to violate Mosaic food laws for the sake of socio-ethnic harmony between Jews and gentiles in the (Galatian) churches. But it is not clear that this is the best framework in which to understand the Jewishness of Matthew. Moreover, Matthew in many respects thinks much more like a Jew inhabiting first-century Judaism than a Christ follower orbiting gentile Christianity. Baxter argues that Matthew’s portrayal of Jesus in close juxtaposition to Herod demonstrates the evangelist’s deep concern for the fulfillment of the national promise of a king for Israel. Further, when compared with Herod’s depiction in the other Synoptic Gospels and in the writings of Josephus, it becomes evident, at least insofar as kingship is concerned, that Matthew thinks more closely along the lines of Josephus the Jew than Mark and Luke the Christ followers. Loren T. Stuckenbruck’s contribution is titled “The Function of Teaching Authority in the Dead Sea Documents and Matthew’s Gospel.” Based on a comparison of selected Dead Sea Scrolls that mention the Teacher of Righteousness with the presentation of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew, the discussion of this chapter focuses on the anonymous authors who wrote about their respective ideal figures. The unique position attributed, respectively, to the Teacher of Righteousness and to Jesus in these sources suggests that their presentation of these figures functioned as a warrant for the writers about them to engage in the same kind of instructional activity. Anonymous authors thus lay implicit claim to authority for themselves and thus assume the mantle of those individuals who founded their movement. The writer of Matthew, as those who composed the pesharim and related compositions among the Dead Sea Scrolls, picks up and extends the revelatory mode of instruction that he has assigned to Jesus. Part 4: Purity and Eschatology In the case of ritual and moral purity, this section narrows down discussion of law to a single theme, but it is a theme that is of paramount importance for our understanding of the ritual and theological patterns of the text as a whole. Since purity/impurity is key for understanding the text’s portrayal of the Jerusalem temple and its destruction, and the temple’s destruction

20

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

itself is a theme interwoven with eschatological expectations, part 4 ends, appropriately, with discussion of things final: eschatology. Cecilia Wassén brings her expertise on Qumran purity matters to bear on her essay, “Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew.” Whereas scholars commonly refer to the concepts of ritual and moral impurity (the view that certain sins are defiling) as if they were given concepts in the ancient Jewish world, this paper points out that these expressions are modern constructions that should be used carefully. The author highlights the diverse views on the relation between sin and impurity in biblical writings and early Jewish literature. From this perspective, she examines Matthew’s concepts of purity to argue that notions of purity and impurity were given parts of the worldview of Matthew in which Jesus teaches law observance that includes ritual purity laws. Nevertheless, the picture of moral impurity is more ambiguous. Although Matthew retells Mark’s account of Jesus’s teaching about defiling sins, which emphasizes inner purity over outer (Mark 7:1–23 // Matt 15:1–20), this aspect does not appear in other contexts where sin and atonement are in focus. Wassén argues that the metaphors in Matt 23 that relate impurity and sin with each other do not, on closer examination, support the view that Matthew cared greatly about moral impurity. While sin is a great concern for Matthew, Wassén finds that he does not usually frame sin in terms of impurity, nor perceive of sin as a defiling force. In “Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls,” Daniel M. Gurtner engages in a comparative analysis regarding the use of Daniel in the corpus of texts in the Dead Sea Scrolls over against its usage in the Gospel of Matthew. He shows that Daniel casts a long and influential shadow among the Qumran sectarians not only from the manuscripts preserved there or the pseudepigraphic material emerging around Daniel found only at Qumran, but perhaps most importantly its usage to bolster unique facets of Qumran sectarian ideologies. Although Daniel is not the most influential text from the Hebrew Bible on Matthew, it plays a decisive role in key eschatological facets of the First Gospel, especially judgment on the wicked and the deliverance of the righteous. But all this centers on the Danielic “son of man,” whom Matthew identifies with Jesus and his ensuing authority. In his survey of this data in the Scrolls and Matthew, Gurtner shows a mutual reliance on apocalyptic eschatological features of Daniel that find expression in distinct ways in their respective traditions. At Qumran the decidedly sectarian nature of select texts is bolstered by Danielic citations and allusions that cumulatively bring



Introduction 21

the Yaḥad to the forefront in terms of their identity as the eschatological people of God and the ones whom God’s eschatological promises are for. In Matthew, however, the righteous and wicked—as well as their respective fates—are defined in Danielic terms but only through their identification with or against Matthew’s conception of the Danielic son of man identified as Jesus. The former is communal and sectarian in nature, whereas the latter, while bearing communal and sectarian implications, is primarily christological in outlook. Despite their differences, Matthew, alongside the Scrolls, remains well within the framework of Judaism. David C. Sim’s contribution is “Life after Death? The Question of Immediate Life after Death in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Gospel of Matthew.” In this essay he acknowledges that most scholars accept that the dominant view in ancient Judaism and early Christianity of the fate of the dead was that the body would lie lifeless in the ground until it was raised to life in the eschatological age. While this concept of the raising of the dead, which finds it earliest attestation in the book of Daniel, was common among both Jews and Christians, Sim observes that it was merely one view concerning the fate of the departed. Other concepts were common, including the notion that the dead would continue to exist immediately after death in a spiritual form. This idea could be held alone or in conjunction with the concept of eschatological bodily resurrection where the soul and the reanimated body would be rejoined. The Dead Sea Scrolls testify to a schema whereby the general resurrection of the body plays no major role, if any at all. The prevailing view in the Qumran community was that the righteous enjoyed even now an intimate relationship with the holy angels, and that after death the departed would continue this fellowship in the heavenly realm. By contrast, Sim argues that the Gospel of Matthew highlights the eschatological resurrection of the dead as a prelude to the final judgment. This is not unexpected, given that the resurrection of Jesus was one of the dominant Christians claims. But there are hints in Matthew’s Gospel that he also accepted some form of immediate life after death and that the raised body at the eschaton would be rejoined to its spiritual counterpart. A similar matter is taken up in “The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus: A Reassessment of Matthew’s Portrayal of the Risen Jesus,” by Lidija Novakovic. Here she seeks to offer a contribution to the ongoing discussion about the function of the resurrection of the saints in the Gospel of Matthew. Novakovic argues that the evangelist incorporated a traditional piece that reflects the earliest

22

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

Christian belief, derived from the expectation of the resurrection of the righteous in Second Temple Judaism, that Jesus’s resurrection marked the beginning of the general resurrection of the dead. However, unlike Paul, who uses the link between the resurrection of Jesus and the universal resurrection to insist that Jesus’s followers will be raised in the same way he was raised, Novakovic contends that Matthew uses it to demonstrate the distinctiveness of Jesus’s resurrection. In his narrative, the resurrection of the saints functions as a prolepsis of the resurrection of Jesus, but its purpose is not to suggest that what happened to the saints also happened to Jesus but to indicate that his resurrection was superior to theirs. In this way, Matthew’s peculiar chronological sequence upholds Jesus’s messianic identity and underscores the universal authority that he received through his resurrection from the dead. Part 5: Reception: Jewish and Gentile The fifth and final section is dedicated to analyses of how Matthew’s completed gospel was received in various settings. John Kampen’s essay is “The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism and a Sectarian Reading of the Gospel of Matthew: The Trial of Jesus.” Kampen observes that identifying and understanding the origins of anti-Semitism is a very complex question. While related, the issue of addressing it in the twenty-first century is equally complicated. While anti-Semitic claims can be identified already in pre-Christian “pagan” literature, they are of a different nature from the directions that anti-Semitism took as it developed in the Christian world. While at a theological level the issues of the continuing validity of the law and Judaism as a valid religious system were the major issues, within popular religion the most enduring charge against Jews was expressed in various versions of the blood libel, “His blood be upon us and upon our children” (Matt 27:25). Within the study of anti-Semitism the reading of Matthew has tended toward an extra muros perspective in which the work was composed by gentiles and directed against Jews, hence fostering anti-Semitism in its origins, or intra muros, in which case it was an argument within the Jewish world that was directed against Jews once Christianity becomes a gentile movement. Kampen’s essay argues that the anti-Semitic Tendenz of the work is rooted in the sectarian nature of this composition, written within the Jewish community, but as a very vitriolic critique. A sociological analysis of Matthew as a sectarian composition is then advanced, in particular with regard to the trial and execution. This



Introduction 23

treatment acknowledges that the historical event was primarily Roman but that Matthew’s sectarian perspectives blamed the Jewish leadership for the destruction of the temple and Roman occupation. Thus, Kampen argues, Matthew focuses even more attention in that section of his composition on implicating the various leadership structures of the Jewish community and stressing the innocence of the Romans. “Israel and the Nations in the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies and Recognitions 1.27–72: Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew” is by Karin Hedner Zetterholm. In it she discusses the impact of the Gospel of Matthew on Rec. 1.27–71 (early third century) and the Homilies (early fourth century), two distinct texts included in the Pseudo-Clementine writings. Both of these works offer a history of the early apostolic period with a focus on James and Peter, respectively. Like the Gospel of Matthew, the author of Rec. 1.27–71 is mainly concerned with the mission to the Jews and the Messiah’s significance for them, embracing the view that torah observance in combination with adherence to Jesus is Judaism correctly understood. Quite possibly, this text functioned within a (Jesus-oriented) Jewish setting. The author/redactor of the Homilies, on the other hand, focuses on the mission to the gentiles and Jesus’s significance for them. Drawing heavily on the Gospel of Matthew, the Homilies’ Peter demonstrates that Jesus is the authoritative interpreter of the torah and that his teachings and actions constitute the hermeneutical key for a correct understanding of God’s revelation. In his view, the teachings of Jesus and the oral interpretive tradition among the Jews are two equivalent paths to salvation, and Jesus-oriented gentiles are now a part of God’s people alongside Jews, both Jesus oriented and non-Jesus oriented. Although the Homilies is generally considered a Christian text with close affinities to rabbinic Judaism, the possibility that it belonged within the broader Jewish community where Jesus-oriented Jews and gentiles may have mixed with rabbinic Jews should not be dismissed out of hand. Nathan Eubank’s “Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables since Jülicher” explores the role that anti-Judaism and aversion to merit have played in the interpretation of Matthew’s parables, both in scholarship devoted to the historical Jesus and in studies of the First Gospel. New Testament scholars have often dismissed premodern interpreters of the parables as fanciful allegorizers, pointing to Adolf Jülicher’s seminal Die Gleichnisreden Jesu (1888–1899) as the advent of serious parable interpretation. Eubank contends that this description of the development of parable interpretation is almost exactly wrong: the theological commit-

24

Anders Runesson and Daniel M. Gurtner

ments of scholars since Jülicher have guided the treatment of the parables at least as much as their predecessors. According to Eubank, the overwhelming theological tendency of parable scholarship across a spectrum of approaches could be described as antimerit, which means prejudiced against the alleged Jewish hope to please God with good deeds and committed with varying degrees of self-consciousness to bringing Jesus and the gospels into conformity with a version of Christianity that excludes the salvific instrumentality of human action. For scholarship of this sort, Matthew’s emphasis on obedience and eschatological sifting has often been understood as the evangelist’s attempt to re-Judaize Jesus’s parables, adding the principle of merit to protect against overconfidence among Jesus followers. In response, Eubank argues that the principle of merit is fairly ubiquitous in prior Jesus tradition. Matthew probably expanded its importance but did not create it. Concluding Reflections At the end of the book Amy-Jill Levine reflects on the implications of this volume for further research in a far-reaching essay: “Concluding Reflections: What’s Next in the Study of Matthew?” Here Levine takes up many critical issues occasioned by the previous essays but by no means limited to them. First, she anticipates opposition to “Matthew within Judaism” in light of that already leveled against “Paul within Judaism,” especially by readers intent on utilizing Paul and then Matthew to cast a negative shadow on ancient Judaism in order to present Jesus, and Paul, as correcting a toxic system. Second, for her, the essential Jewishness of Matthew is not only an exegetically warranted conclusion but also theologically and, indeed, homiletically necessary. Third, Levine flags several areas where the other contributions to the volume warrant further consideration. While important work has been done on the identification of the Jews (Ἰουδαῖοι) as well as the people (λαός) and the crowds (ὄχλοι), much of this has yet to be allocated into determining with more precision the function of these groups within Matthew, especially as they relate to other groups and those with authority (e.g., Pharisees, chief priests, elders, scribes). Similarly, the ongoing research on synagogues in antiquity needs to inform Matthew’s view of the synagogue and whether “their synagogues” infers the antagonism typically attributed to it. There is also room to develop the function of gentile characters within Matthew. Furthermore, Levine encourages teasing out the relationship between the death of Jesus



Introduction 25

and the loss of the temple, particularly in light of the lack of clear indications in other Jewish sources of the time that there was a consequential inability to accomplish atonement. Finally, she advocates further research on locating the precise Roman political situation in place at the time the First Gospel was written.

Part 1 Institutions and Law

Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter James G. Crossley

What constituted torah observance in early Judaism could be a matter of perspective. For certain outsiders, Jewish identity was understood in terms of practices and beliefs found in the Pentateuch, such as Sabbath and avoidance of pork (e.g., Juvenal, Sat. 14.96–106; Philo, Legat. 361). Those identifying as Jews showed some interest in such matters too but, as we might expect, much more still. From the Dead Sea Scrolls through rabbinic literature, we find additional detailed interest in torah-centric topics such as tithing, purity, temple, vows, and marital relationships. Legal interests could be part of the development of group identity among early Jewish groups over the correct interpretation of the torah. The regulations laid out in the Pentateuch were not always straightforwardly applicable to new situations (what does “working” mean on the Sabbath? To what extent are purity laws applicable outside the temple?) and different Jewish groups interpreted commandments in different and even contradictory ways. Reactions to differences could range from acceptance (if sometimes grudging) to serious conflict between different groups (see, e.g., 4Q171 IV, 8–9; 1QpHab XI, 2–8; Josephus, A.J. 13.296–298, 408– 411; m. Hag. 2:7; m. Tehar. 7:1; y. Demai 2, 22d). Using the language of the interpretation, expansion, and development of the torah according to his Pharisaic background (Josephus, A.J. 13.297, 408–409), Paul claimed (Gal 1:13–15) to be “far more zealous for the traditions of my ancestors” while persecuting the early Jesus movement (see Phil 3:5–6).1 Indeed, Acts 23:6 sees no contradiction in Paul identifying as a Pharisee while being a Christ follower. To add to the complexity for scholarship locating Matthew’s Gospel, the development of the Jesus movement eventually

1. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations in this chapter follow the NRSV.

-29-

30

James G. Crossley

raised controversial questions about whether key parts of the torah (e.g., circumcision, food laws, Sabbath) should be observed at all. There were, then, a range of options available to Matthew’s presentation of Jesus and the torah. Here I will promote the argument that Matthew stressed, in some way, the ongoing validity of the torah, at least for Jesus and probably for Jewish followers in the movement too. The extent to which all those associated with the Jesus movement were expected to uphold torah observance is not entirely clear (see Matt 5:19; 28:19–20), but what can be established with more certainty is that Matthew emphatically presents Jesus as not only torah observant but the torah interpreter par excellence, as we might expect from Matthew’s presentation of Jesus as the new Moses.2 What I hope to contribute to this sort of approach is how the details of Matthew’s presentation of Jesus as the supreme interpreter of torah might have been understood in the context of early Jewish legal interpretation, including among its polemical representations (see Matt 23:4). Constraints of space inevitably mean many issues relating to the topic of the Matthean Jesus and the torah cannot be covered. For instance, legal issues cannot be disentangled from ideas about the temple, which Matthew covers or possibly assumes in a number 2. Although not without differences, this essay builds on the approach associated with, e.g., Anthony J. Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, CSHJ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994), 124–64. See further (and each with their own nuance and differences), e.g., Gerhard Barth, “Das Gesetzesverständnis des Evangelisten Matthäus,” in Überlieferung und Auslegung im Matthäusevangelium, ed. Günther Bornkamm, Gerhard Barth, and Heinz Joachim Held (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1959), 54–154; Roger Mohrlang, Matthew and Paul: A Comparison of Ethical Perspectives (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984), 7–26; Phillip Sigal, The Halakhah of Jesus of Nazareth according to the Gospel of Matthew, SBLStBL 18 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2007); Alan F. Segal, “Matthew’s Jewish Voice,” in Social History of the Matthean Community: Cross-Disciplinary Approaches, ed. David L. Balch (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991), 3–37; Klyne R. Snodgrass, “Matthew’s Understanding of the Law,” Int 46 (1992): 368–78; David C. Sim, The Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism: The History and Social Setting of the Matthean Community, SNTW (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998), 123–39; Wolfgang Reinbold, “Das Matthäusevangelium, die Pharisäer und die Tora,” BZ 50 (2006): 51–73; David C. Sim, “Matthew and Paul on the Torah: Theory and Practice,” in Paul, Grace and Freedom: Essays in Honour of John K. Riches, ed. Paul Middleton, Angus Paddison, and Karen J. Wenell (London: T&T Clark, 2009), 50–64. The classic treatment of the Matthean Jesus as new Moses is, of course, Dale C. Allison Jr., The New Moses: A Matthean Typology (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993).



Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter 31

of passages (e.g., 5:23–24; 9:1–13; 17:24–27; 20:28; 21:12–13; 23:21; 26:28; 27:51–53). While there will be occasional overlap, the topic of the temple is covered by another essay in this volume.3 General Statements on the Torah Matthew’s presentation of Jesus’s general statements on the torah assumed its validity. Matthew inherits traditions from Mark that straightforwardly assume that Jesus behaved in an idealized way in relation to certain commandments. For instance, touching the fringe of Jesus’s cloak (ἅψωνται τοῦ κρασπέδου τοῦ ἱματίου αὐτοῦ) for healing purposes is retained from Mark (Matt 14:36 // Mark 6:56; see Matt 9:20) and assumes the commandment to wear κράσπεδα (LXX Num 15:38–39; Deut 22:12). Matthew modifies Mark’s shortened version of the Decalogue (Mark 10:17–22) to include, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself ” (Matt 19:16–22), which is, of course, from Lev 19:18. Jesus’s teaching may have been seen to supplement or interpret the Decalogue, but there is no textual evidence that this would have been assumed to be a particularly controversial presentation of Jesus in relation to the torah, any more so than the standard summary statements of the torah in early Jewish law. What we know about Matthean redaction concerning the torah is that it involves a typically conservative tendency in the sense that it is made clear that, if there is any doubt, Jesus is observing commandments (see below). In terms of general statements about commandments, we can see this in the changes Matthew makes to Mark and the question about the greatest commandment (Matt 22:34–40 // Mark 12:29–31). Here Matthew omits the reference to the subordination of whole burnt offerings and sacrifices. The Markan subordination of sacrifices would have been relatively uncontroversial, or at least a known idea among early Jewish interpretations of the torah (e.g., Let. Aris. 234)— indeed, prophetic literature is blunter (e.g., Isa 1:10–17; Jer 6:20; 7:21–28; Amos 5:21–27), as Matthew is elsewhere (Matt 12:7)—but Matthew here did not risk a misunderstanding and, like other early Jewish interpreters (e.g., Philo, Spec. 1.299–300; Josephus, C. Ap. 2.206; see T. Iss. 7.6; T. Dan 5.1–3), has the focus simply on the greatest commandment(s). Indeed, Matthew’s summary of the torah in the golden rule (Matt 7:12) likewise stands in a long summarizing tradition (e.g., Tob 4:15; Armenian Ahiqar 3. See in this volume Akiva Cohen, “Matthew and the Temple.”

32

James G. Crossley

8.88; Philo, Hypoth. 7.6; b. Shabb. 31a; Tg. Ps.-J. Lev 19:18), and, without a polemical context suggesting otherwise, it is difficult to see how this would have been perceived as anything other than a common cliché concerning the importance of the torah.4 Perhaps more ambiguous is Matt 11:13 (“For all the prophets and the law prophesied until John came”), which some have seen as implying that the Matthean Christ brings about the goal and replacement of the torah, perhaps akin to (a certain reading of) Rom 10:4.5 Matthew presumably inserted the aorist ἐπροφήτευσαν into his source (see Luke 16:16), and this may well imply the end of one era, but Matthew’s insertion emphatically concerns the prophetic function of the prophets and law (hence the placement of prophets before law) and makes no comment on their legal status. Indeed, this is where we should again turn to Matthean emphasis elsewhere, and in this case the illuminating parallel statement in Matt 5:17, which does have a clear legal context (and note law here comes before prophets): “Do not think I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill” (οὐκ ἦλθον καταλῦσαι ἀλλὰ πληρῶσαι). The idea of fulfillment here stands in clear and unambiguous opposition to anyone who might think that abolition of the law and prophets is a worthy thing. A helpful comparison is Matt 3:15, where the language of fulfillment (πληρῶσαι πᾶσαν δικαιοσύνην) is used as an explanation of why John must baptize Jesus and understood to involve carrying out God’s will in practice.6 The context of Matt 5:17–20 supports this further. The comment on not one stroke of a letter passing from the law until all is accomplished (Matt 5:18) at the very least would imply that the torah remains relevant for the Matthean Jesus. The criticism (Matt 5:19) of anyone who would break the least of these commandments and teaches others to do so is that such a one may be called “least” in the kingdom, but the contrast is with the observant, who will be called “great.” Whatever the precise point of reference, this may imply a grudging acceptance of nonobservant tendencies in the growing Jesus movement. Nevertheless, Matthew goes further still by stressing that righteousness must exceed that of the Pharisees to enter 4. See Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 134–41; Snodgrass, “Matthew’s Understanding,” 371. 5. So, e.g., Richard E. Menninger, Israel and the Church in the Gospel of Matthew, AUSTR 162 (New York: Lang, 1994), 107. 6. William R. G. Loader, Jesus’ Attitude towards the Law (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997), 166–67.



Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter 33

the kingdom. Collectively, then, it is difficult to see that texts such as Matt 11:13 and 5:17–20 do anything other than assume the general and ongoing validity of the torah and that Jesus must be remembered as enthusiastically observant. The So-Called Antitheses We do, of course, have a broader legal context for Matt 5:17–20, namely, the immediately following “antitheses” (Matt 5:21–48), some of which have been central to understandings of Matthew in distinction from scholarly constructions of Judaism and the torah.7 However, the conventional English translation of the antithetical structure of the sayings (“You have heard it said … but I say to you”) is misleading in that it automatically suggests a strong contrast, which reads too much into the weak conjunction δὲ. In the abstract, equally valid translations would be, “You have heard it said … and I say to you” or “You have heard it said…; I say to you”). Furthermore, E. P. Sanders pointed out some time ago that similar literary structures (e.g., “and concerning X, we say…,” “X says … Y says”) are found in Jewish legal literature from 4QMMT to the rabbis and are a means of understanding, interpreting, and expanding the torah, though whether this is a precise enough analogy to the Matthean Jesus is debated.8 A strong case can be made for Matt 5:21–48 being about legal interpretation and exposition rather than flat contradiction or abrogation. Indeed, some of the so-called antitheses obviously interpret and apply in such a manner: Matt 5:21–26 expands on the prohibition of murder (Exod 20:13; Deut 5:17) to include anger against a “brother,” while Matt 5:27–30 expands on the commandment against adultery (Exod 20:14; Deut 5:18) to include looking at a woman with lustful intentions. Stating the obvious it may be, but in neither case is there an acceptance of murder and adultery. This at least provides a context whereby the other statements in the rest of Matt

7. See Barth, “Das Gesetzesverständnis des Evangelisten Matthäus,” 54–154; John P. Meier, Law and History in Matthew’s Gospel: A Redactional Study of Mt. 5:17–48 (Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1976), 140–61; Paul Foster, Community, Law and Mission in Matthew’s Gospel, WUNT 2/177 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004), 94–140. 8. E. P. Sanders, Jewish Law from Jesus to the Mishnah: Five Studies (London: SCM, 1990), 93. On the comparison between 4QMMT and Matthew, see Foster, Community, Law and Mission, 80–91.

34

James G. Crossley

5 on oaths (5:33–37), retribution (5:38–42), divorce (5:31–32), and loving enemies (5:43–48) could potentially be understood. Perhaps the most obvious contender for this sort of reading would be Matt 5:31–32: “It was also said, ‘Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.’ But/and I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity [πορνείας], causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.” Here, the interpretation of Deut 24:1–4 looks similar to the teaching of the House of Shammai and against Hillel: The House of Shammai say, “A man should divorce his wife only because he has found grounds for it in unchastity, since it is said, Because he has found in her indecency in anything (Deut. 24:1).” And the House of Hillel say, “Even if she spoiled his dish, since it is said, Because he has found in her indecency in anything.” R. Aqiba says, “Even if he found someone else prettier than she, since it is said, And it shall be if she find no favour in his eyes (Deut. 24:1).” (m. Git. 9:10; see Sifre Deut 269; y. Sotah 1.2, 16b)9

We should understand the Matthean exception clause and πορνεία as implying a range of acts deemed sexually problematic rather than, as some have suggested, the more precise incest with reference to Lev 18.10 Indeed, Matt 9. Mishnah translations are taken from Jacob Neusner, The Mishnah: A New Translation (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1988). 10. The classic treatments of the Matthean divorce exception clauses as implying incest include Meier, Law and History, 147–50; Joseph A. Fitzmyer, “Matthean Divorce Texts and Some New Palestinian Evidence,” TS 37 (1976): 197–226; Ben Witherington III, “Matthew 5.32 and 19.9—Exception or Exceptional Situation,” NTS 31 (1985): 571–76. The arguments against this reading are strong. Unqualified, πορνεία is a generic term to denote something perceived to be sexually problematic in early Jewish and related literature. As Tob 4:12 puts it, “Beware, my son, of every kind of πορνεία.” It can, of course, be used more precisely, such as metaphorically in the context of deviation from God and idolatry (e.g., Hos 4:11–12; Jer 3:9; 13:27; Wis 14:12; and throughout Ezekiel), lust and sexual desire (e.g., Tob 8:7), the acts of Sodom (T. Benj. 9.2), and, as common in wider Greek usage, prostitution (e.g., Gen 38:24; T. Jud. 12.2), but the context makes it clear which acts are implied. LXX does not use πορνεία to describe incestuous marriages in Lev 18, and although a Hebrew equivalent, ‫זנות‬, is indeed used in CD A IV, 12–V, 14 of incestuous relationship, the context again makes this clear. Matthew provides no precise context, and so we should understand in a general sense, though this may incorporate incest (see 1 Cor 5:1–2; 6:13–18). On πορνεία, see now David Wheeler-Reed, Jennifer W. Knust, and Dale B. Martin, “Can a Man Commit πορνεία with His Wife?,” JBL 137 (2018): 383–98.



Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter 35

5:31–32 (along with 19:9) addresses questions known, or at least would become known, in early Jewish legal discussion. There was also one tradition that virtually assumed that men were obliged to divorce “unchaste” wives and that an adulterous wife was forbidden to her husband (e.g., m. Ned. 11:12; m. Sotah 5:1). This can be tied in with an interpretative tradition (based on Deut 24:4 and Lev 18:20; Num 5:13–14, 20), where adultery and rape typically result in divorce due to the logic that the wife was made unclean by the third party (see Prov 18:22 LXX; 1QapGen XX, 15; Philo, Abr. 98; Matt 1:19; Tg. Neof. Deut 24:4).11 Matthew’s additional divorce passage (19:3–11) also gives us insight into his redactional changes to Mark. Whether Mark 10:2–12 has an absolute prohibition of divorce is debatable, but it could certainly have been taken in such a way. Matthew makes clear changes to make sure that the discussion of divorce is brought into line with the allowance of divorce in Deut 24:1–4. In Matt 19:3, Matthew modifies the question, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife …?” with the crucial additions of “for any reason” (κατὰ πᾶσαν αἰτίαν) and the explicit permission for divorce in the case of πορνεία in 19:9. This does not mean that the Matthean interpretation of divorce would have been entirely uncontroversial. For a start, the House of Hillel would not have found this interpretation particularly amenable, nor would others who assumed that a wide variety of reasons concerning perceived inadequacies of the wife, from beauty through behavior to cooking abilities, could necessitate divorce (Sir 25–26; m. Git. 9:10; see Sifre Deut 269; y. Sotah 1.2, 16b). To this we might add evidence from Matthew, who, despite his clarifying of Mark, still added that such a view of divorce is virtually impossible to observe: “His disciples said to him, ‘If such is the case of a man with his wife, it is better not to marry’ ” (Matt 19:9). Given that 19:9 is particular to Matthew’s Gospel, we might reasonably speculate that these are Matthean anxieties concerning people for whom divorce even with an exception clause for πορνεία was deemed excessively strict, not that Matthew’s redaction necessarily made their lives easier (19:10). The exception clause in Matt 5:31–32 may give us clues that clarification or application or a particular commandment was envisaged. On the surface, however, the remaining antitheses seem to imply at least the potential for a stark opposition. Nevertheless, there is reason to suggest 11. Markus Bockmuehl, “Matthew 5.32; 19.9 in the Light of Pre-rabbinic Halakah,” NTS 35 (1989): 291–95; Bockmuehl, Jewish Law in Gentile Churches: Halakhah and the Beginning of Christian Public Ethics (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2000), 17–21.

36

James G. Crossley

that they continue the same pattern.12 The discussion of the avoidance of vows according to Matt 5:33–37 is less clear with regard to the torah because, while there is legal discussion of oaths and vows (e.g., Lev 5:4–6; Num 30; Deut 23:21), avoidance of oaths and vows is not prohibited. Indeed, the opposite is implied in the case of vows: “But if you refrain from vowing, you will not incur guilt” (Deut 23:22). The avoidance of oaths and vows prevented the possibility of breaking commandments and avoidance of rash oaths and vows, which would otherwise need to be fulfilled (see further, e.g., Exod 20:7; Deut 5:11; CD A XVI; Philo, Decal. 84; see also Deut 23:21; Judg 11:29–40; 1 Kgs 2:23–24; Mark 6:26; Josephus, A.J. 17.42). Indeed, Philo presents the Essenes in a similar way to the Matthean Jesus in that they are said to show their love of God “by abstinence from oaths” (Prob. 84 [Colson]). Josephus likewise presents Essene interpretation along similar lines, saying of the Essenes that everything they say is more certain than an oath and that “swearing they avoid, regarding it as worse than perjury” (B.J. 2.135 [Thackeray]).13 How this compares with the material from Qumran is moot (see CD A IX, 9–12; XV; XVI, 7–12; 1QS V, 8; VI, 27), but the fact that Philo and Josephus can write about the Essenes in such language is important for understanding Matt 5:33–37 because it strongly implies that a legally savvy audience at least would not see Jesus’s teaching as antithetical to the torah. On the contrary. The discussion of the lex talionis (Matt 5:38–42) is perhaps the most famous case of an antithetical understanding of Jesus’s teaching in relation to the torah, in this instance the clear commandment in Exod 21:24: “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.” But, again, legal contextualization would suggest we are dealing with interpretation and application of a given commandment. From the literary evidence we have, it seems as if

12. See, e.g., E. P. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism (London: SCM, 1985), 260–64; Geza Vermes, The Religion of Jesus the Jew (London: SCM, 1993), 30–37; W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 1:532–71; Hans Dieter Betz, The Sermon on the Mount: A Commentary on the Sermon on the Mount including the Sermon on the Plain (Matthew 5.3–7.27 and Luke 6.20–49), Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995), 259–328. 13. See further Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:523–28; Vermes, Religion of Jesus, 35–36.



Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter 37

Exod 21:24 could be understood in terms of either nonviolent compensation or violent retribution. Biblical texts promote both possibilities (e.g., Gen 9:6; Exod 21:22–27; Deut 25:11–12), and Josephus summarizes the issue by mentioning both interpretations: “He that maims a man shall undergo the like, being deprived of that limb whereof he deprived the other, unless indeed the maimed man be willing to accept money; for the law empowers the victim himself to assess the damage that has befallen him and makes this concession, unless he would show himself too severe” (A.J. 4.280; see Philo, Spec. 3.182).14 However, there was a more pronounced interpretative divide elsewhere in early Judaism. Rabbinic literature heavily emphasized the notion of nonviolent compensation (e.g., m. B. Qam. 8:1; Tg. Neof. Exod 21:24; Mek. 7.8.67 [on Exod 21:24]). As Targum Pseudo-Jonathan puts it, “The value of an eye for an eye, the value of a tooth for a tooth, the value of a hand for a hand, the value of a foot for a foot.”15 The Babylonian Talmud has its own particular way of stressing this point in an extended discussion emphatically favoring nonviolent compensation in the interpretation of Exod 21:24 (b. B. Qam. 83b–84a) by bringing forward numerous Tannaim with only one dissenting voice, the usual suspect Rabbi Eliezer, who was said to favor the literal interpretation. There is perhaps the logic of social cohesion behind this sort of thinking in a group with wider societal compromise, possibly even implying that violent interpretations were a little too popular and had to be countered. A lack of such concern may partly explain why sectarian or aristocratic groups could favor a violent, literal interpretation, hence the violent interpretation was attributed to the Boethusians (m. Ta’an. 7:3) and the Sadducees (m. Mak. 1:6). Jubilees made similar assumptions in its description of Cain’s death: his house fell on him, and he died inside it and was killed by the stones of it; for with a stone he had killed Abel, and by a just retribution he was killed by a stone himself. There is a rule about this on the heavenly tablets, With the instrument with which one kills another man, with the

14. Translation from Josephus, Jewish Antiquities Books I–IV, trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1930), 611, modified. 15. Translation from J. W. Etheridge, The Targums of Onkelos and Jonathan ben Uzziel on the Pentateuch: With the Fragments of the Jerusalem Targum from the Chaldee (New York: Ktav, 1968), 617.

38

James G. Crossley

same instrument shall he be killed: if he has done a particular injury to another man, the same injury shall be done to him. (Jub. 4.31)16

Speculations about the social needs driving such interpretations aside, we can at least argue that Matt 5:38–42 is firmly in line with what became mainstream Pharisaic/rabbinic interpretation of Exod 21:24 and is a rejection of a more sectarian version. The Matthean Jesus only makes judgment on the violent interpretation (in the present, at least; see Matt 6:14–15; 7:21–23; 25). It is notable in this respect that when Matthew lists three examples of “Do not resist an evildoer,” only one directly relates to retaliation and the principle of Exod 21:24: the striking on the cheek.17 The final example in the so-called antitheses (Matt 5:43–48) completes this pattern of interpretation rather than flat contradiction of the torah. Certainly, there is some contradiction between “You shall love your neighbor and pray for those who persecute you” and “hate your enemy” (5:43–44), but we know that Jesus endorses the commandment to love the neighbor (Lev 19:18) and there is no biblical commandment to hate enemies, even if such sentiments exist (Deut 7:2; 20:16; 23:4; 30:7; see Pss 26:5; 137:7–9; 139:19–22; 2 Chr 19:2). As has been suggested numerous times, it is possible that Matthew is challenging the sorts of views represented by the War Scroll, where the sons of light are “to hate” the sons of darkness and indeed certain fellow Jews (see 1QS I, 4, 10–11; IX, 21–23; see also Josephus, B.J. 2.139), or by Jewish revolutionaries administering a different kind of love. Or, alternatively, Matthew is taking up related concerns to love the Romans, whatever that may entail. While a precise context and referent is far from clear, Matt 5:43–48 can only be seen as antithetical in the sense that it disagrees with whoever thinks hating enemies is a legitimate interpretation. When we add Matt 5:43–48 to the rest of this section, it is clear that we have a set of teachings that would have been perceived as part of conventional legal teaching in early Judaism. Sabbath But, as we have seen, conventional does not necessarily imply uncontroversial. Matthew inherits, clarifies, and modifies the Markan Sabbath 16. Translation from H. F. D. Sparks, The Apocryphal Old Testament (Oxford: Clarendon, 1984), 24. 17. Loader, Jesus’ Attitude towards the Law, 177.



Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter 39

controversies (Mark 2:23–3:6; Matt 12:1–13).18 The first controversy, over plucking grain on the Sabbath, is part of the kinds of debates and disagreements known in early Jewish legal traditions. To understand this, it is important to note that biblical Sabbath law is not always particularly specific. Work is of course prohibited (Exod 20:8–11; Deut 5:12–15), but what constitutes work? This includes “ploughing time and harvest time” (Exod 34:21), and Israelites must not kindle a fire in any dwelling (Exod 35:2). Outside the Pentateuch, Amos 8:5 mentions merchants avoiding the selling of grain and wheat on the Sabbath, while Jer 17:19–27 likewise opposes commercial activity on the Sabbath with the famous prohibition, “Thus says the Lord: For the sake of your lives, take care that you do not bear a burden on the Sabbath day or bring it in by the gates of Jerusalem. And do not carry a burden out of your houses on the Sabbath or do any work” (Jer 17:21–22; see Neh 13). Nowhere in biblical law, however, is there a prohibition of “to pluck” (τίλλειν) or “to pluck heads of grain” (τίλλειν στάχυας), as Jesus’s disciples were doing according to Matt 12:1. This is why we should locate the controversy as part of the kinds of debates found in early Jewish differences over interpretation and application of the commandment to observe the Sabbath, such as the different interpretations of work in CD A X–XII or the thirty-nine prohibitions in m. Shabb. 7:2. There was some discussion about eating unprepared food, which would suggest that certain groups and individuals would have a problem with plucking grain. For example, the Damascus Document rules that “no one is to eat on the Sabbath day except what has been prepared; and from what is lost in the field [blank] he should not eat, nor should he drink except of what there is in the camp” (CD A X, 22–23; see Jub. 2.29–30; 50.9).19 This sort of thinking may have been relatively widespread, as Philo includes a prohibition of plucking (δρέψασθαι) fruit on the Sabbath based on the less well-known princi-

18. For extensive analysis of the relevant Sabbath laws and the gospel tradition, see, e.g., Maurice Casey, Aramaic Sources of Mark’s Gospel, SNTSMS 102 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998); Lutz Doering, Schabbat: Sabbathalacha und -praxis im antiken Judentum und Urchristentum (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1999); Nina L. Collins, Jesus, the Sabbath and the Jewish Debate: Healing on the Sabbath in the First and Second Centuries CE, LNTS 474 (London: T&T Clark, 2014). 19. Translations of the Damascus Document follow Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar and Florentino García Martínez, The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition, 2 vols. (Leiden: Brill, 1997–1998).

40

James G. Crossley

ple that “no one shall touch” (Mos. 2.22). Later rabbinic literature (e.g., t. Shabb. 9:17; see b. Shabb. 103a) does prohibit picking or plucking (‫)תלש‬, but there is one passage in particular that highlights how this was far from uniform and thus sheds like on the Matthean (and Markan and Lukan) Sabbath dispute: m. Pesah. 4:8. Here, certain rabbis have a problem with men of Jericho who “ate Sabbath fruit that had fallen under the tree,” with the obvious implication that the men of Jericho thought, not unlike the Matthean Jesus and his disciples, that this was acceptable behavior on the Sabbath. Once again Matthean redaction of Mark confirms this sort of reading. Mark’s account of plucking grain does not explicitly state what will be done with the grain. Presumably Mark assumed the disciples would eat it rather than take it home to prepare food or carry out an act more obviously regarded as work (see Ascen. Isa. 2.11; m. Shabb. 12:2). But given sensitivities over whether the Sabbath should be observed at all in the earliest Jesus movement (John 5:1–18; Gal 4:10; Rom 14:1–6; Col 2:16), Matthew (like Luke) makes it clear that the disciples are plucking grain “to eat” (Matt 12:1). This logic in the Matthean version of the Markan argument continues with the reference to David and the shewbread (Matt 12:3–6; see 1 Sam 21), which refers to a story that, in the Markan version, would have been assumed to have been set on the Sabbath (see Lev 24:8–9; 1 Chr 9:32; Josephus, A.J. 3.255–256; m. Sukkah 5:7–8; m. Menah. 11:7; b. Pesah. 47a)20 and which once again has to be made explicit by Matthew with an additional legal example to frame the debate: “Or have you not read in the law that on the sabbath the priests in the temple break the sabbath and yet are guiltless?” (Matt 12:5; see Num 28:9–10; Jub. 50.10–11). This emphasis on the guiltlessness of the priests would suggest that Matthew is following the argument of his Markan source: if figures such as David (and priests) can behave in such a manner, then surely Jesus’s disciples are even more guiltless (so to speak) for plucking grain, which is not even prohibited in biblical law. Again, Matthean additions further heighten this point and make Jesus’s authority even more pronounced, including the idea of something even greater than the temple being here (Matt 12:7) and the classic prioritization of mercy (12:8). The significance of Jesus as the authoritative legal interpreter (and indeed, what something greater than the temple might involve) is shown by the titular use of “Son of Man” to apply to Jesus 20. Casey, Aramaic Sources, 155–57.



Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter 41

alone, which drops Mark’s generic setting of this saying and his retaining of the generic Aramaic use of “son of man” (Mark 2:27).21 Nevertheless, despite the elevation of Jesus in Matthew, human lordship over the Sabbath remained part of the assumptions of Sabbath debates in early Judaism (see, e.g., Exod 16:29; Mek. 9.1 [on Exod 31:12–17]). In other words, the Matthean use of the tradition of lordship over the Sabbath combined with making “the Son of Man” an emphatic title for Jesus alone, further bolsters Jesus’s halakic authority. The controversy and Matthean argumentation continue into the dispute over healing on the Sabbath (Matt 12:9–14). There are some important points retained from Mark: the idea that the Pharisees ask a question “so that they might accuse him” (Matt 12:10) and the decision to conspire to kill Jesus (Matt 12:14), though Matthew drops collusion with the Herodians. There is an allusion to the death penalty for (perceived) Sabbath violation (Exod 35:2; Num 15:32–36), which Jub. 2.25–27 thinks should be enforced. However, there is no evidence that the death penalty for Sabbath violation was enforced in early Judaism, no doubt for practical reasons and doubly so given the range of disagreements over the interpretation of Sabbath laws. Indeed, even the strict Damascus Document can openly contradict the biblical commandment and suggest a seven-year rehabilitation program (CD A XII, 3–6). Rabbinic literature brings in different technicalities, including notions of deliberate and unintentional Sabbath violations and warnings that would allow avoidance of socially problematic imposition of the death penalty (m. Sanh. 7:8; y. Sanh. 7.11). It is notable, then, that the Markan structure of a warning followed by a deliberate violation of Pharisaic understanding of the Sabbath is presented when we read Matt 12:1–14 as a whole, which only sharpens the legal differences. Mark presents the differences over the interpretation of saving life overriding the Sabbath, which Mark extends to include Jesus’s healings (Mark 3:4; see 1 Macc 2:32–41; 2 Macc 6:11; m. Yoma 8:6). Matthew shifts the Markan emphasis to maintain the halakic line of “how much more [important/valuable]” presented in Matt 12:1–8. To do this, he adds an explicit legal argument to his Markan source: “Suppose one of you has only one sheep and it falls into a pit on the sabbath; will you not lay hold of

21. James G. Crossley, Jesus and the Chaos of History: Redirecting the Quest for the Historical Jesus (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015), 41–43.

42

James G. Crossley

it and lift it out? How much more valuable is a human being than a sheep! So it is lawful to do good on the sabbath” (Matt 12:10–11). It is debatable whether Mark’s case for healings would have been seen by Pharisees as sufficiently life-threatening (see m. Shabb. 14:4; t. Shabb. 12.14), but it is clear that Matthew here appeals to common ground to critique the Pharisees. Indeed, there may even be an echo of a similar position from later rabbinic literature: “They do not deliver the young of cattle on the festival, but they help out” (m. Shabb. 18:3; see m. Betzah 3:4). There may even be an appeal to common difference, in particular a contrast with the sort of position represented by the Damascus Document, which would never have been accepted in Pharisaic and rabbinic law, with their stress on any danger to life overruling the Sabbath: “And any living man who falls into a place of water or into a , no-one should take him out with a ladder or rope or a utensil” (CD A XI, 16). Whatever the precise references implied by Matt 12:10–11, it is clear that the Matthean addition is designed to stress halakic priorities in healing on the Sabbath as much as halakic priorities involved in plucking grain to eat.22 Tithing W. D. Davies and Dale Allison claimed that in the Matthean Sabbath controversies the question was not “Can there be exceptions to sabbath halakah? It was rather, what constitutes a legitimate exception?”23 This logic can assume that certain Pharisaic interpretations are potentially acceptable, at least in certain cases and as long as they do not impinge on Matthean understandings or override Matthean understandings of mercy. This line of thinking is played out even in the anti-Pharisaic polemics of Matt 23. For example, among the various woes against scribes and Pharisees, Matthew has the saying, “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For

22. There may be hints of Matthean sensitivity toward the Sabbath in his handling of Mark elsewhere. Matthew’s use of the Markan Sabbath healing stories (Matt 8:14–17; Mark 1:29–34) removes the Sabbath context, and this may reflect Matthean unease in a similar way to Matthew adding a new argument to the story of the healing of the man with the withered hand (Matt 12:11–12). We might further speculate (and I put it no stronger than that) that there may be further evidence of Matthean sensitivity toward the Sabbath in his addition to the eschatological discourse and the flight from Judea: “Pray that your flight may not be in winter or on a Sabbath” (Matt 24:20). 23. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 2:307.



Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter 43

you tithe mint, dill, and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice, mercy and faith. It is these you ought to have practiced without neglecting the others” (Matt 23:23 // Luke 11:42). Matthew’s mention of tithing dill and cumin probably refers to the practice of at least some first-century figures; hence, the Mishnah discusses the tithing of both (m. Ma’as. 4:5; m. Demai 2:1)—it would be an unusual coincidence if such tithing did not take place in the first century among certain Pharisaic or post-Pharisaic strands. It is not as clear whether mint was tithed, not least because wild herbs were exempt from tithing (m. Shev. 9:1). Nevertheless, it is possible that mint was effectively covered by general statements on tithing of plants for domestic use, such as eating or for oil (Num 18:12; Lev 27:30; Deut 14:23; m. Ma’as. 1:1, 5–7; m. Ma’as. Sh. 2:1–2). While mint does grow wild, it is conspicuously absent from the list of wild herbs exempt from tithing in m. Shev. 9:1, presumably because mint was indeed cultivated and eaten (see, e.g., m. Shev. 7:1; m. Uq. 1:2; b. Avod. Zar. 29a; b. Git. 69b; b. Shabb. 140a). A comparison with Luke’s version of this saying also gives us insights into Matthean interests. Luke’s reference to the tithing of the generic “all kinds of herbs” (πᾶν λάχανον) and “rue” flatly contradicts m. Shev. 9:1. Matthew, by contrast, is much more precise in his understanding of tithing law.24 Moreover, it is an understanding of tithing law he does not reject because he knows that these examples of tithing may be precise, but they are not rejected any more than Matthew’s Pharisees’ avoidance of plucking grain is rejected. On the contrary, the hypocrisy (from the perspective of the Matthean Jesus, of course) is again that legal interpretation must incorporate—and indeed prioritize—issues such as mercy, love, and so on, which collectively function as a core (if somewhat vague) hermeneutical principle in Matthew’s presentation of Jesus and the torah.25

24. The suggestion put forward by Nestle that Luke misread (deliberately or not) ‫“( שבתא‬dill”—so Matt 23:23) for ‫“( שברא‬rue”) is worth noting here because, if correct, it would further enhance the argument in favor of Matthew’s precision concerning legal matters. See, e.g., Eberhard Nestle, “ ‘Anise’ and ‘Rue,’ ” ExpTim 15 (1904): 528. See also Matthew Black, An Aramaic Approach to the Gospels and Acts, 3rd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1967), 194; Maurice Casey, An Aramaic Approach to Q, SNTSMS 122 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 73–74. 25. Reinbold, “Das Matthäusevangelium,” 51–73.

44

James G. Crossley

Purity A similar concern for the prioritization of what we might label “morality” occurs in Matthean understandings of purity. A general acceptance of purity laws broadly understood is evident in Matthew. Matthew is presumably aware of the possibility that Jesus could become impure (see Matt 9:9–13, 18–26), but makes nothing of this and no doubt assumed that Jesus would have simply purified himself accordingly.26 In the case of the cleaning of the leper (Matt 8:2–14), Matthew follows his Markan source in accepting the role of the priest in the declaration of cleanliness as outlined in Lev 13–14 (see m. Neg. 3:1). But Matthean redactional tendencies again suggest conservative concern by ensuring that any potential for misunderstanding is removed by dropping Mark 1:45 and thus removing the possibility that the leper might have disobeyed Jesus’s command to be declared clean by the priest. The emphasis on morality in relation to the acceptance of purity laws is evident in the saying on the washing of cups in Matt 2:25–26 (par. Luke 11:39–41). This involves assumptions about the transmission of impurity and keeping the insides pure in the context of meals.27 As implicit in the Sabbath controversies, there is again a tacit endorsement of a Pharisaic practice in the comment “first cleanse the inside,” and again this is perhaps to be expected from anyone accepting of the standard purity laws (Lev 11:3; 15:12). Such laws were expanded and interpreted in early Judaism, and the most extensive relevant legal discussion of the purification of cups and utensils is found in m. Kelim 25, which opens with the key distinction: “All utensils have outsides and an inside” (m. Kelim 25:1). Some authorities believed there were more than two parts of a utensil: “All utensils have outer parts and an inner part, and they [further] have a part by which they are held” (m. Kelim 25:7). The discussion is further nuanced by debates involving Rabbi Tarfon and Rabbi Aqiba and then Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Yose:

26. See further Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 134–41. 27. For a discussion of the legal context of this saying, see, e.g., Jacob Neusner, “ ‘First Cleanse the Inside’: The ‘Halakhic’ Background of a Controversy Saying,” NTS 22 (1976): 486–95; Casey, Aramaic Approach to Q, 77–83; Crossley, Jesus and the Chaos of History, 115–18.



Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter 45

R. Tarfon says, [This distinction in the outer parts applies only] to a large wooden trough. Aqiba says, To cups. R. Meir says, To the unclean and the clean hands. Said R. Yose, They have spoken only concerning clean hands alone. How so? [If] one’s hands were clean, and the outer parts of the cup were unclean, [and] one took [the cup] with its holding part, he need not worry lest his hands be made unclean on the outer parts of the cup. [If] one was drinking from a cup, the outer parts of which are unclean, one does not worry lest the liquid which is in his mouth be made unclean on the outer parts of the cup and go and render the [whole] cup unclean. A kettle [unclean on the outside] which is boiling—one does not worry lest the liquids go forth from it and touch its outer parts and go back to the inside [and make it unclean]. (m. Kelim 25:7–8)

Another rabbinic text crucial for understanding the impurity of cups is m. Ber. 8:2: “The House of Shammai say, ‘They wash the hands and then mix the cup [of wine].’ But the House of Hillel say, ‘They mix the cup and then wash the hands.’ ” The Tosefta explains further: “The House of Shammai say, ‘They wash the hands then mix the cup—lest liquids on the outer surface of the cup become unclean through contact with hands and in turn render the cup unclean.’ The House of Hillel say, ‘The outer surface of the cup is always deemed unclean’ ” (t. Ber. 5.26).28 The traditions based on m. Kelim 25:7–8 and m. Ber. 8:2 are brought together in the Palestinian Talmud on the basis that they essentially reflect the same debate: “R. Biban in the name of R. Yohanan, The opinion of the House of Shammai accords with the view of R. Yose, and the opinion of the House of Hillel accords with the view of R. Meir” (y. Ber. 8.2).29 The position associated with Rabbi Yose and Shammai meant that, according to Rabbi Yose, “[If] one’s hands were clean, and the outer parts of the cup were unclean, [and] one took [the cup] with its holding part, he need not worry lest his hands be made unclean on the outer parts of the cup” (m. Kelim 25:8). However, this cannot apply to impure hands; as the Shammaite position has it: “lest liquids on the outer surface of the cup become impure through contact with hands and in turn render the cup impure” (t. Ber. 5.26). The position associated with Rabbi Meir and the 28. Translation by Tzvee Zahavy in Jacob Neusner, ed., The Tosefta: First Division, Zera‘im (The Order of Agriculture) (New York: Ktav, 1986). 29. Tzvee Zahavy, trans., Berakhot, CSHJ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989), 284.

46

James G. Crossley

Hillelites does not accept this. Concerning the distinction between handles and outsides, the view of Rabbi Yose likewise applies to Rabbi Meir if hands are pure: “[If] one’s hands were clean, and the outer parts of the cup were unclean, [and] one took [the cup] with its holding part, he need not worry lest his hands be made unclean on the outer parts of the cup” (m. Kelim 25:8). Yet Rabbi Meir and the Hillelites disagree with the view of Rabbi Yose and the Shammaites that they first wash the hands “lest liquids on the outer surface of the cup become impure through contact with hands and in turn render the cup impure.” For Rabbi Meir and Hillelites, even impure hands could not make the whole cup impure through contact with the liquid on the outside of the cup. Rabbi Meir appears to include a further possibility in the case of the outside being pure that goes against Rabbi Yose and Shammai:30 the handle of the cup can be held by impure hands and there is no concern, “lest liquids on the outer surface of the cup become impure through contact with hands and in turn render the cup impure.” The Shammaite position about the impurity of the outsides of cups, including the discussion of the distinctions between the insides and outsides of cups, would suggest a suitable legal context for understanding Matt 23:25–26. However, similar material led Hyam Maccoby to make an influential objection. For Maccoby, the only way to render such utensil clean would be “to immerse them totally in a Miqveh (ritual immersion pool).… There was no custom of washing cups on the outside only.”31 There is, though, further evidence that would suggest problems with Maccoby’s objection. In particular, there is good reason to think that Matt 23:25–26 references a position closer to Rabbi Aqiba because Kelim discusses other outer parts of utensils (bases, rims, hangers, and handles), which require cleansing through drying or wiping: “Bases of utensils, and their rims, and their hangers, and the handles of utensils which hold [something = which have a receptacle], on which fell [unclean] liquids— one dries them, and they are clean.… A utensil, the outer parts of which 30. See Neusner, “ ‘First Cleanse the Inside,’ ” 490. 31. Hyam Maccoby, “The Washing of Cups,” JSNT 14 (1982): 5, followed by, e.g., John S. Kloppenborg, “Nomos and Ethos in Q,” in Gospel Origins and Christian Beginnings: In Honor of James M. Robinson, ed. James E. Goehring, Jack T. Sanders, and Charles W. Hedrick (Sonoma, CA: Polebridge, 1990), 39; Leif E. Vaage, Galilean Upstarts: Jesus’ First Followers according to Q (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1994), 66–86.



Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter 47

have been made unclean with liquids—the outer parts are unclean. Its inside, its rims, hangers, and handles are clean. [If] its inside is made unclean, the whole is unclean” (m. Kelim 25:6, emphasis added). The language of “outside” (ἔξωθεν) in Matt 23:25 is therefore more likely to be referring to the wiping of the base, rim, hanger, and handle as distinct from the insides of the utensil.32 Maccoby believed that hygiene, rather than issues of purity law, was the most obvious frame of reference for understanding Matt 23:25–26. He argued that the conventional term used for purification, καθαρίζω, “can be used of literal, spiritual or ritual cleansing. For the literal use, see, for example, LXX Prov 25:4, καθαρισθήσεται, referring to the purification of silver from dross.”33 However, Prov 25:4 seems to be the only literal occurrence in LXX from over one hundred occurrences and is further a discussion of the removal of dross from silver, which is not really a close parallel to assist our interpretation of Matt 23:25–26. Besides, καθαρίζω is the standard LXX term for purification and usually translates some form of the precise Hebrew term ‫טהר‬, which is typically used to discuss purity, as well as being used throughout m. Kelim 25 and the traditions surrounding m. Ber. 8:2. We should, therefore, retain this understanding in the interpretation of Matt 23:25–26. The Matthean context would further support this sort of reading of καθαρίζω against Maccoby. Indeed, Maccoby effectively undermined his own argument: “All Jews were familiar with the difference between a clean and a dirty cup, and the image of a vessel that was clean on the outside but dirty on the inside as a metaphor of hypocrisy was perfectly intelligible to them, as was the similar figure of the whitewashed tomb which is ‘full of dead men’s bones and all kinds of filth.’ ”34 The reference to tombs is precisely why Maccoby’s reading is difficult to accept. Corpse impurity was the most defiling of impurities in early Jewish law, and the allusion to Matt 23:27 further supports reading Matt 23:25–27 in the context of impurity law. Certainly ἀκαθαρσία (23:27) can be used in the context of moral impurity, but it still had a close relationship with ritual impurity. Septuagint 32. For more precise linguistic discussion of the language of “outside” in Matt 23:25 // Luke 11:39, see James G. Crossley, Why Christianity Happened: A Sociohistorical Account of Christian Origins, 26–50 CE (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2006), 109–11. 33. Maccoby, “Washing of Cups,” 13 n. 5. 34. Maccoby, “Washing of Cups,” 7.

48

James G. Crossley

uses of ἀκαθαρσία typically translate the precise ‫טמא‬, which is used in the context of impurity in the MT and in rabbinic literature. It is difficult to see how Matt 23:27, and therefore 23:25–26, can be read in any other context than that of purity law. While obviously prioritizing notions of morality in legal discussion, Matthew’s reference to washing of the inside of the cup functions implicitly as critique of (a certain strand of) Pharisaic practice while simultaneously accepting the idea that impure utensils should be purified, preferably by immersion, as indeed biblical law suggests in specific cases (Lev 11:32– 33; 15:12). Once again, Matthean tendencies support this reading, and a comparison with the Lukan text is suggestive. Luke’s alternative reading puts far greater stress on human morality with no real emphasis on the purity of utensils: “So give alms for those things that are within; and see, everything will be clean for you” (Luke 11:41). If Matthew was aware of the possibility of reading this saying in the context of almsgiving, it would not go against his interests (see Matt 6:2–4), but what is clear by the comparison with Luke is that Matthew’s interests were certainly geared toward understanding this saying in the context of purity law by stressing the cleansing of the inside.35 There is further evidence of such interests in Matthew’s handling of Mark 7:1–23 (Matt 15:1–20). I have argued that Mark 7:1–23 is a critique of Pharisaic handwashing practice and other traditions deemed nonbiblical and a rejection of the transmission of impurity from hand (via a liquid) to food to the insides of the eater and an understanding that all kosher foods should be regarded as clean.36 Nevertheless, in a context where some people 35. This understanding of Matthean redaction may be further supported by Wellhausen’s influential argument that Luke (or indeed Matthew) appears to have misread (deliberately or not) the Aramaic ‫“( דכו‬purify”) for ‫“( זכו‬give alms”). See, e.g., Julius Wellhausen, Einleitung in die drei ersten Evangelien, 2nd ed. (Berlin: Reimer, 1911), 27; Black, Aramaic Approach to the Gospels and Acts, 2; Casey, Aramaic Approach to Q, 22–24, 82. This argument for a shared Aramaic source gains further weight when we recall a similar possibility noted above with reference to Matt 23:23 // Luke 11:42. 36. James G. Crossley, The Date of Mark’s Gospel: Insight from the Law in Earliest Christianity, LNTS 266 (London: T&T Clark, 2004), 191–204. See also Steve Moyise, Evoking Scripture: Seeing the Old Testament in the New (London: T&T Clark, 2008), 27; Markus Bockmuehl, “God’s Life as a Jew: Remembering the Son of God as Son of David,” in Seeking the Identity of Jesus: A Pilgrimage, ed. Beverly Roberts Gaventa and Richard B. Hays (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 60–78, esp. 69–70 n. 19; Richard J. Bauckham, “In Response to My Respondents: Jesus and the Eyewitnesses in Review,”



Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter 49

no longer accept the validity of the biblical food laws (see Acts 10:1–11:18; Gal 2:11–14; Rom 14:1–6), Mark 7:1–23 becomes a problem. Indeed, Luke omitted Mark 7:1–23 as part of his Great Omission, presumably because he wanted to ensure that Peter’s vision in Acts 10:1–11:18 was understood as the justification for the breaking down of the food laws. Matthew’s approach, however, is to make it clear that Mark 7:1–23 is about critiquing handwashing, particularly though the emphatic change made to Mark in Matt 15:20: “These are what defile a person, but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile.” Matthew has made it clear that it is in this context that we must read the saying on morality and insides and outsides in relationship to defilement in 15:11. In this sense, the Matthean Jesus had something in common with, or may have appealed to, those categorized as the “people of the land” in rabbinic literature, particularly when they are categorized as being somewhat lax in their attitude to Pharisaic and rabbinic purity laws, including the role of liquids central to the transmission of impurity at the meal table (m. Tehar. 7:1; m. Hag. 2:7; y. Demai 2, 22d). “Let the Dead Bury Their Own Dead” Despite all the material we have seen, there is one glaring passage in the Synoptic tradition that is regularly thought to have Jesus overthrowing the familial concerns of the torah itself, namely, Matt 8:21–22 (par. Luke 9:59– 60): “Another of his disciples said to him, ‘Lord, first let me go and bury my father.’ But Jesus said to him, ‘Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.’ ” The typical argument, as presented influentially by Martin Hengel, E. P. Sanders, and N. T Wright, suggests that in early Judaism (and indeed the ancient world more generally), the burial of parents was regarded extremely highly (e.g., Gen 23:3–4; Tob 6:13–15; m. Ber. 3:1; m. Naz. 7:1), and the sentiments of Jesus are shocking when understood in this context.37 Despite the popularity of this view, it places a lot of interpretative weight on a proverbial-style saying. Moreover, there is no indication in JSHJ 6 (2008): 233–35; John van Maaren, “Does Mark’s Jesus Abrogate Torah? Jesus’ Purity Logion and Its Illustration in Mark 7:15–23,” JJMJS 4 (2017): 21–41. See David Catchpole, Jesus People: The Historical Jesus and the Beginnings of Community (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 2006), 196–201; David A. Fiensy, Jesus the Galilean: Soundings in a First Century Life (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias, 2007), 147–86. 37. See, e.g., Martin Hengel, Nachfolge und Charisma: Eine exegetisch-religionsgeschichtliche Studie zu Mt. 8, 21f. und Jesu Ruf in die Nachfolge (Berlin: Töpelmann,

50

James G. Crossley

the Matthean passage (or indeed the Lukan parallel) or in the immediate narrative context that this saying was perceived to be shocking, and there is no presentation of conflict with opponents. In addition to discussions about avoidance of corpses in certain contexts (see Luke 10:29–37; Philo, Spec. 1.113–115, 250; m. Naz. 7:1), there were still no explicit exemptions for a high priest or Nazirite to bury parents in the sources cited by Hengel (Philo, Spec. 1.113–115, 250), and there are traditions concerning the nonburial of people deemed undeserving (e.g., Deut 28:26; Jer 7:33; 22:19; Ezek 29:5; 1 En. 98.13; Josephus, B.J. 4.317, 331–332, 359–360, 381–382).38 But this may be academic, as the Matthean saying is clear in its implication that the father will be buried by the (spiritually) dead. Again, Matthean tendencies further support the idea that there is no shocking contradiction of custom or law. In his treatment of Matt 8:21–22, Matthew does not show any discomfort, as he does with the previous redactional moves he makes when he feels the torah is potentially being threatened or misunderstood. We might also compare the respective handling of the following tradition in Matthew and Luke: Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. (Matt 10:37) Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:26)

The comparison between the two implies a degree of nervousness when handling traditions potentially deemed shocking in relation to familial concerns. Indeed, it may well be that both present a relativizing of familial priorities (“love less”) rather than literally hating family members (see Gen 29:31–35; Deut 21:15–17).39 Whatever the origins of this tradition, if Mat1968); Sanders, Jesus and Judaism, 252–55; N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (London: SPCK, 1996), 400–403. 38. Bockmuehl, Jewish Law in Gentile Churches, 23–48; Crispin H. T. FletcherLouis, “ ‘Leave the Dead to Bury Their Own Dead’: Q 9.60 and the Redefinition of the People of God,” JSNT 26 (2003): 39–68. 39. T. W. Manson, The Sayings of Jesus (London: SCM, 1957), 131; Stephen C. Barton, Discipleship and Family Ties in Mark and Matthew, SNTSMS 80 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 169–70. Once again, we might speculate that there



Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter 51

thew would be careful in this instance to downplay potentially scandalous implications, would he not have done the same had it been obvious that Matt 8:21–22 was as shocking, as much of scholarship has claimed? Concluding Remarks When contextualized in early Jewish legal debates, it is clear not only that Matthew believed in the ongoing observance of the torah but that he was conversant in some of the technicalities of its interpretation. Matthew clearly knows specifics about what Pharisaic groups in particular were discussing concerning lex talionis, divorce, purity, Sabbath, and tithing. This would further suggest that there was indeed some connection, rivalry, and overlap with Pharisaic Judaism (see Matt 23:1–17).40 Detailed examination of the social location of Matthew’s Gospel in relation to what would have been understood to have been “Jewish” and “Judaism” is beyond the scope of this essay, but it is worth adding some final remarks about how an understanding of torah in early Judaism complicates an already complicated debate. Because Matthew presents Jesus as the supreme legal interpreter, it does not automatically follow that the entire Matthean community or audiences would have been expected to do likewise, particularly if they came from non-Jewish backgrounds and if they were not expected to convert to Judaism. There is, perhaps strikingly, no interpretation of circumcision among the legal discussions in Matthew.41 It is difficult to know what to do with such silence, but it is by no means clear that circumcision for male adult converts would have been required by all early Jewish legal interpreters, though some might have thought so, as the debate over the circumcision of Izates shows (Josephus, A.J. 20.34–48; Gen. Rab. 46:10). It may simply be that the author(s) of Matthew accepted (happily or not) that the movement included uncircumcised adherents, and indeed those who did not uphold the torah in every instance (see Matt 5:19; 28:19). If Matthew did not think everyone would fully conmay be divergent translations of a Semitic word here, ‫שנא‬, typically rendered with μισέω in the LXX, as Luke would have done if this explanation holds. 40. Anders Runesson, “Re-thinking Early Jewish-Christian Relations: Matthean Community History as Pharisaic Intra-group Conflict,” JBL 127 (2008): 95–132. 41. See the helpful discussion of circumcision and Matthew’s Gospel in Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016), 31–36, 378–81.

52

James G. Crossley

vert, then it may follow that he did not expect purity laws to be followed, given that they were only meant to apply to Jews. It may be that Matthew focused on the specific laws raised in Matt 5 (see Matt 5:19–20) as a means to stop the sorts of behaviors stereotypically associated with gentiles (e.g., violence, sexual immorality) and as another means of boundary making between the early Jesus movement and the outside world. As mentioned, a proper discussion is beyond the scope of this essay, but it is important to reemphasize that Matthew’s understanding of Jesus and the torah will not always straightforwardly map on to the ways his audience would have been following the torah.

The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching Jordan Ryan

Introduction: The Matthean Jesus in the Synagogue The Gospel of Matthew clearly situates Jesus’s teaching activity during the Galilean phase of his ministry in synagogues. According to Matt 4:23, “Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.”1 This statement is repeated in Matt 9:35. Jesus’s activity in Galilean synagogues is corroborated in the other canonical gospels. Mark 1:39, which is likely the source on which Matt 4:23 is based,2 tells us that Jesus “went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.” Likewise, following the temptation narrative, the Third Evangelist states that “Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone” (Luke 4:14–15). Finally, John 18:20 depicts Jesus saying, “I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all the Jews come together.” It is quite likely that the convergence of the canonical evangelists on this point stems from the life

1. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations follow the NRSV. 2. Possibly combined with Mark 3:7–12. See W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 1:412. See also, e.g., Robert H. Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Literary and Theological Art (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982), 32; Daniel J. Harrington, The Gospel of Matthew, SP 1 (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2007), 72; Craig A. Evans, Matthew, NCBC (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 93; R. T. France, The Gospel of Matthew, NIGTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 182 n. 42.

-53-

54

Jordan Ryan

of the historical Jesus and that these passages reflect a common memory of Jesus teaching in synagogues.3 The manner in which Matthew employs that traditional memory of Jesus teaching in the Galilean synagogues within the literary framework of his narrative, and its function within the Matthew’s story, is subject to further investigation.4 The overarching aim of this study is to attempt to elucidate the connection between the synagogue teaching mentioned in Matt 4:23 and the narrative discourse in Matt 5–7 that it introduces, which is popularly known as the Sermon on the Mount. While the literary connection between the synagogue teaching described in Matt 4:23 and the Sermon on the Mount has been noted in previous scholarship, that connection has yet to be sufficiently explored in light of current scholarship on early synagogues. As this chapter will endeavor to demonstrate, although it is not literally set in a synagogue, when considered in light of current scholarship on early synagogues, Matthew’s narrative of the Sermon intentionally evokes elements of a synagogue setting and synagogue teaching. In the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew has constructed what we might call an eschatological synagogue, an assembly not of a local community but of the regathered people of God. Matthew’s Missing Synagogue Teaching Although the synagogue is presented as the locus of Jesus’s teaching activity in the world of the Matthean narrative, it is curious that very little of that teaching is reported or specified. Although Matthew mentions synagogues ten times, only two of Jesus’s sayings are given in synagogue settings in the First Gospel. The first is a saying about the legality of doing good on the Sabbath in Matt 12:11–12, and the other is “prophets are not without honor except in their own country and in their own house” (Matt 13:57), which is better described as a response to those who are offended by Jesus in the synagogue at Nazareth than as a teaching per se. Of these two, one is clearly derived from Matthew’s Markan source. The saying in Matt 13:57 about prophets being without honor follows Mark’s version of the story of 3. See Jordan J. Ryan, The Role of the Synagogue in the Aims of Jesus (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2017). 4. Important first steps have, however, been taken in the form of Anders Runesson, “Saving the Lost Sheep of Israel: Purity, Forgiveness, and Synagogues in the Gospel of Matthew,” Melilah 11 (2014): 3–24.



The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching 55

Jesus teaching in the synagogue at Nazareth and is drawn from Mark 6:4. The origin of the saying about healing on the Sabbath is more difficult to determine. It appears in the context of the narrative of the healing of the man with a withered hand, which is also found in Mark 3:1–6 and Luke 6:6–11. However, the saying about the legality of doing good on the Sabbath does not appear in either Mark or Luke’s versions of the story, though a similar saying does appear in a different context in Luke 14:5, leading to the possibility that it was drawn from the double tradition.5 We can thus conclude that, from a source-critical perspective, there is precious little (if any) unique material that Matthew contributes to our portrait of Jesus’s synagogue teaching. However, there is some insight yet to be gleaned at the compositional level. Matthew contains the least material set in synagogues among the Synoptic Gospels, with just these two episodes, that of the healing of the man with a withered hand and that of the incident in the synagogue at Nazareth.6 As mentioned above, both of these pericopes are found in Mark. While John sets only one episode in a synagogue, that particular episode is the bread of life discourse (John 6:25–65), which is a sizable block of teaching material, far outweighing the pair of sayings that Matthew sets in synagogues. It is also worth observing here that there is some teaching that Luke situates in a synagogue that Matthew situates elsewhere. The parables of the mustard seed and the yeast in Luke 13:18–21 are both set in a synagogue. They take place after the healing of a woman with a bent back in 13:10–17, which takes place in an unspecified synagogue in Judea.7 There is no change in setting following this episode, and the use of οὖν in verse 18 indicates that the two parables are delivered in connection to what has occurred in verses 10–17.8 Matthew, however, sets these teachings, which 5. See Gundry, Matthew, 226; see also France, Matthew, 487–88. Note also the early Jewish parallels in CD A XI, 13–14; m. Betzah 3:4, b. Shabb. 128b. 6. Compare Mark, which has three incidents set in synagogues (1:21; 3:1; 6:2), and Luke, in which four narratives are set in synagogues (4:16, 33; 6:6; 13:10). 7. Luke sets this passage in a Judean synagogue, but it is possible that Luke here preserves a memory of a historical incident that took place in a Galilean synagogue during the Galilean phase of Jesus’s ministry. See Jordan J. Ryan, “Jesus and Synagogue Disputes: Recovering the Institutional Context of Luke 13:10–17,” CBQ 71 (2017): 47–48. 8. See Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Gospel according to Luke, AYB 28 (New York: Doubleday, 1981), 2:1016; Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke, NICNT (Grand Rapids:

56

Jordan Ryan

are delivered publicly in a synagogue context in Luke, in a private conversation between Jesus and his disciples (Matt 13:10) that takes place by the Sea of Galilee (13:1). Matthew insists, not once but twice, that Jesus taught in synagogues (4:23; 9:35), yet never relates the content of that teaching beyond the two short sayings discussed above. Thus, synagogues are certainly not missing from Matthew’s story of Jesus,9 but they are missing as a setting from Matthew’s account of the teachings of Jesus. Moreover, Matthew appears to have a distinct interest in Jewish Scripture and on Jesus’s teaching on the law.10 Given that the synagogue was the primary venue where Scripture, especially the law, was read, taught, and discussed in Jewish society in the land during the late Second Temple period, it is intuitively odd that it only serves as the setting for a discussion on the law once in the entirety of Matthew’s Gospel. That the Matthean Jesus was active in synagogues shows his engagement with Jewish public life and society.11 Synagogues function as the stage for Jesus’s proclamation and as, to borrow Anders Runesson’s words, “eschatological combat zones where battles were fought against inaccurate interpretations of Jewish law … as well as against evil forces materializing as disease and illness, which were cured.”12 Perhaps, given this narrative function of synagogues in the First Gospel, it was more important for the purposes of Matthew to show that Jesus taught in synagogues rather than to report what he taught in synagogues. Eerdmans, 1997), 526; Robert C. Tannehill, Luke, ANTC (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), 220; Darrell L. Bock, Luke, BECNT (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1994), 2:1224–25. 9. On συναγωγή and συναγωγαί in Matthew, see Gundry, Matthew, 648. Twelftree goes so far as to consider συναγωγή and συναγωγαί Mattheanisms. See Graham H. Twelftree, “Jesus and the Synagogue,” in Handbook for the Study of the Historical Jesus, ed. Tom Holmén and Stanley E. Porter (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 4:3128. In my opinion, this stretches the evidence, given the prominence of the connection between Jesus and synagogues in the tradition in general, but he is nevertheless correct to point out the prominence of synagogue words in Matthew’s narrative. On themes associated with synagogues in Matthew’s narrative, see Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:413–14. 10. For example, consider the Matthean fulfillment citations (1:22–23; 2:15, 17–18; 4:14–16; 8:17; 12:17–21; 13:14–15, 35; 21:4–5; 27:9, see also citations of uncertain origin, as in 2:23; 26:54, 56) as well as the teaching on the fulfillment of the law and the prophets in Matt 5:17–19. 11. See Runesson, “Saving the Lost Sheep,” 3–24. 12. Runesson, “Saving the Lost Sheep,” 15.



The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching 57

Early Synagogues It is necessary to briefly discuss the early synagogues of the land of Israel as they would have been known in the first century CE.13 The aim is to elaborate on synagogues as they existed at the time of the events narrated in the Gospel of Matthew in the first half of the first century CE as well as at the time when it was written, which is typically thought to have been in the last quarter of the first century CE, after the Jerusalem temple had been destroyed. Early synagogues were Jewish assemblies and assembly places.14 When discussing the situation in the first century CE, synagogue generally refers to Jewish gatherings and can refer either to the gathering of people itself or to the places in which they met, or both. These gatherings are best considered in light of multiple aspects: the spatial, the liturgical, the nonliturgical, and the institutional.15 The spatial aspect pertains to the meeting space itself, including architecture and archaeology, as well as artwork, decoration, and furniture. The liturgical aspect refers to the “religious” activities that took place within the synagogue. The nonliturgical aspect concerns the social, political, judicial, and communal dimensions of the synagogue. Finally, the institutional aspect 13. As far as the geographical scope is concerned, while I am somewhat inclined to accept the hypothesis of the Galilean origin of the Gospel of Matthew, particularly as it is presented by Anders Runesson, accepting this hypothesis is not necessary to appreciate the importance of avoiding anatopism and anatypism by restricting the conversation to the synagogues of the land. This is because, whatever else one thinks of the Galilean hypothesis and all that comes with it, Runesson is nevertheless correct to point out that the institutional realities (including and perhaps especially synagogues) described in the text “fit perfectly with what we know about Galilean Jewish society.” See Runesson, “Behind the Gospel of Matthew: Radical Pharisees in Post-war Galilee?,” CurTM 37 (2010): 462. On the institutional realities of the land in the Gospel of Matthew, see also Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016), 210–12. 14. See Stephen K. Catto, Reconstructing the First-Century Synagogue: A Critical Analysis of Current Research, LNTS 363 (London: T&T Clark, 2007), 199–201; Lee I. Levine, The Ancient Synagogue: The First Thousand Years, 2nd ed. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005), 172; Anders Runesson, The Origins of the Synagogue: A Sociohistorical Study, ConBNT 37 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2001), 29–37; Anders Runesson, Donald D. Binder, and Birger Olsson, The Ancient Synagogue from Its Origins to 200 C.E.: A Source Book (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 7–9. 15. See Runesson, Origins of the Synagogue, 29–37; Runesson, Binder, and Olsson, Ancient Synagogue, 7–9.

58

Jordan Ryan

pertains to organization, structure, operation, offices, and leadership within the synagogue. Current scholarship on ancient synagogues has shown that there were two types of institutions that were designated by synagogue terms. Two competing definitions of the synagogue arose in the late 1990s. Some scholars regarded the synagogue as a Greco-Roman association, similar to a club or guild, while others considered it to be a public municipal institution, similar to a town hall.16 The situation was complicated by the fact that strong evidence exists for both of these definitions. This led to the conclusion that the best explanation of the evidence is that there were in fact two types of institutions designated by synagogue terms: semipublic association synagogues and public synagogues. Association synagogues were akin to clubs. Similar to Greco-Roman collegia, association synagogues belonged to particular groups within a given city or town, and as such were semipublic. To draw on an example from the New Testament, Acts 6:9 mentions the “synagogue of the freedmen,” which was probably an association synagogue in Jerusalem belonging to a group of former slaves. Likewise, the Essene synagogue assemblies described by Philo (Prob. 81–82) are best understood as association synagogues belonging specifically to Essenes. Unlike association synagogues, public synagogues belonged to the city or town as a whole rather than to a particular subgroup. The synagogues depicted in the Gospel of Matthew are generally public synagogues, as they appear to represent the locale as a whole rather than a subgroup.17 It 16. On the synagogue as a Greco-Roman association, see Peter Richardson, “Early Synagogues as Collegia in the Diaspora and Palestine,” in Voluntary Associations in the Ancient World, ed. Stephen G. Wilson and John Kloppenborg (London: Routledge, 1996), 90–109. See also Richardson, “An Architectural Case for Synagogues as Associations,” in The Ancient Synagogue from Its Origins Until 200 C.E.: Papers Presented at an International Conference at Lund University, October 14–17, 2001, ed. Birger Olsson and Magnus Zetterholm, ConBNT 39 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2003), 90–117; elaborated by Philip A. Harland, Associations, Synagogues and Congregations: Claiming a Place in Ancient Mediterranean Society (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003). On the synagogue as a public municipal institution, see Lee I. Levine, “The Nature and Origin of the Palestinian Synagogue Reconsidered,” JBL 115 (1996): 425–48; see also, e.g., Rachel Hachlili, “The Origin of the Synagogue: A Re-assessment,” JSJ 28 (1997): 34–47; Donald D. Binder, Into the Temple Courts: The Place of the Synagogues in the Second Temple Period, SBLDS 169 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 1999), passim. 17. See Runesson, Origins of the Synagogue, 355–57; Twelftree, “Jesus and the



The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching 59

is important to recognize that unlike association synagogues, which could appear anywhere there might be a Jewish association, public synagogues could only exist in locales under Jewish control, such as the Jewish villages of Galilee in Matthew. Ultimately, public synagogues should be understood as the local-official gathering of a given locale, representing the locale as a whole. They were political institutions, the premiere local-official public assemblies and public assembly places for the town. Thus, the decisions made by public synagogue assemblies were made for the town as a whole.18 The architecture of synagogue buildings reflects their functions as communal assembly places.19 The most common features of early synagogue buildings were benches, typically stepped and arranged in a quadrilateral shape along three or four of the walls, and columns, which supported clerestory roofs.20 These buildings were designed to accommodate larger public gatherings in a way that domestic structures were not. The particular quadrilateral arrangement of benches places the focus in the center of the room, which made it easier to engage in discussion with people seated along the other walls, especially those across the way. The recently excavated synagogue at Magdala also included a sort of courtyard,21 which would have provided Synagogue,” 4:3133. Note, however, that Runesson has suggested that the synagogue gathering described in Matt 12:9 may be a Pharisaic association synagogue (Origins of the Synagogue, 355–57). 18. See, e.g., Ryan, Role of the Synagogue, 45–50; Runesson, Origins of the Synagogue, 213–23. 19. See Rachel Hachlili, Ancient Synagogues: Archaeology and Art; New Discoveries and Current Research, HOS 105 (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 151; Jodi Magness, The Archaeology of the Holy Land (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 291; Runesson, Origins of the Synagogue, 366–67. 20. Two examples may serve to illustrate this. In Vita 277–282, Josephus describes gatherings that took place at the synagogue (προσευχή) of Tiberias, in which local leaders assemble with the people of the city to discuss aspects of the city’s involvement in the First Jewish Revolt. Likewise, Judith depicts several gatherings of the assembly (ἐκκλησία) of the citizens of Bethulia (6:16–21, 7:23–32, 13:12–14:10). Although Judith’s narrative is most likely intended to be fictional, the depiction of the gathering reflects the reality of public synagogue gatherings during the Second Temple period. In these gatherings, the people of Bethulia come together with their local leadership to discuss their plan of action in response to the crisis of the invasion of Holofernes’s army. 21. The courtyard and its wall are no longer visible due to the construction of the adjacent modern buildings.

60

Jordan Ryan

additional public space for assembly and public functions. It is important to recognize, however, that it is unlikely that every Jewish town would have had a building in which to hold meetings and that synagogue meetings could be held in the open air.22 The presence of a public element made up of the townspeople was a given at synagogue gatherings. Of course, this does not mean that everyone in the town would have been present at every synagogue gathering, not even on the Sabbath. Chad Spigel’s recent study of synagogue seating capacities has demonstrated that, except in cases of very small villages, it would not typically have been possible for synagogue buildings to accommodate the entirety of the population of a town at once.23 The opinion of the members of the public appears to have been instrumental in decision making in synagogue assemblies. In the synagogue gatherings at Tiberias described by Josephus (Vita 277–303), the leaders of the town attempt to persuade the members of the public to adopt their recommended courses of action. However, the magistrate and his allies fail to acquire the support of the public. The townspeople turn against them (Vita 298–300) and support Josephus instead. This incident vividly illustrates the power held by the members of the public in synagogue settings, even over against leading members of their city. Likewise, Susanna’s trial is explicitly set in a synagogue (LXX Sus 28) and is apparently settled by the court of public opinion. The public is at first convinced by the elders who accused Susanna (v. 41), but after being directly addressed by Daniel (vv. 52–59), the people are convinced by his words and end up carrying out justice against the elders for bearing false witness (vv. 60–62). No magistrate or judge makes the decision here. Instead, the trial is a trial of public opinion, in which the collective decision of the assembly holds sway. The signature and most important function of public synagogues was the public reading and interpretation of Jewish Scripture, especially the Torah.24 The Torah was considered sacred Scripture, but it influenced and governed more than just the temple cult and religious life. It governed aspects of everyday life. By the Hellenistic period at least, we see the Torah 22. See my discussion in Ryan, Role of the Synagogue, 24–25. See also Catto, Reconstructing the First-Century Synagogue, passim (e.g., 162–63). 23. See the conclusion of Chad S. Spigel, Ancient Synagogue Seating Capacities, TSAJ 149 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012), 339–58. 24. Outside the Gospels, see Acts 15:21; Josephus (C. Ap. 2.175; A.J. 16.43; B.J. 2.292); the Theodotos Inscription (CIJ 2.1404); and Philo (Prob. 80–83, Legat. 156).



The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching 61

affecting situations in Jewish life and society that cannot be categorized as strictly religious.25 The Torah was applied to such things as marriage contracts (Tob 1:8; 7:12–13), battle plans (1 Macc 3:48), Sabbath observance (1 Macc 2:34–41), and criminal justice (Sus 62). By the Roman period, we see sources describing consequences such as corporal and capital punishment for transgressing Torah (E.g., Josephus, C. Ap. 2.215–219; m. Mak. 3:1–16; John 10:31–3 [see Lev 24:16]). The Sermon on the Mount as a Setting for the Matthean Jesus’s Galilean Teaching Now that the institution of the public synagogue as it would have been known in the first century CE has been detailed, we can turn to our discussion of how the synagogue summary statement in Matt 4:23 relates to the Sermon on the Mount in Matt 5–7. Jesus’s role as a teacher is introduced by the synagogue summary statement in Matt 4:23 (διδάσκων ἐν ταῖς συναγωγαῖς αὐτῶν).26 This is the very first mention of Jesus teaching (διδάσκω), a key aspect of the Matthean Jesus’s role and identity,27 in the story of the First Gospel. It is important to consider how this statement 25. See, for example, Philip S. Alexander, “Jewish Law in the Time of Jesus: Towards a Clarification of the Problem,” in Law and Religion: Essays on the Place of the Law in Israel and Early Christianity, ed. Barnabas Lindars (Cambridge: Clarke, 1988), 44–58; James W. Watts, “The Political and Legal Uses of Scripture,” in From the Beginnings to 600, vol. 1 of The New Cambridge History of the Bible, ed. James Carleton Paget and Joachim Schaper (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013), 345–64, esp. 356–58; Thomas Kazen, Scripture, Interpretation, or Authority? Motives and Arguments in Jesus’ Halakic Conflicts, WUNT 320 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 296– 98; Anders Runesson, “Entering a Synagogue with Paul: First-Century Torah Observance,” in Torah Ethics and Early Christian Identity, ed. Susan J. Wendel and David M. Miller (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016), 11–26, esp. 15–20; Michael LeFebvre, Collections, Codes, and Torah: The Re-characterization of Israel’s Written Law, LHBOTS 451 (London: T&T Clark, 2006), passim, esp. 182, 239–40, 258–60. 26. On the significance of the conception of Jesus as teacher in Matthew, see Samuel Byrskog, Jesus the Only Teacher: Didactic Authority and Transmission in Ancient Israel, Ancient Judaism and the Matthean Community, ConBNT 24 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1994). Note that, while the act of proclamation (κηρύσσω) also mentioned in Matt 4:23 appears earlier, in Matt 4:17, the act of teaching and Jesus’s role as a teacher, which becomes a key theme in Matthew, is introduced here in 4:23. 27. On Jesus as teacher in Matthew, see 4:23; 5:2; 7:28–29; 9:35; 11:1; 13:54; 21:23; 22:16, 33; 26:55. Significantly, in 23:10, Jesus tells his followers that they are not to be

62

Jordan Ryan

fits into its narrative context, and especially how it relates to the major discourse that follows it in Matt 5–7, in which we have a vast amount of teaching material presented. From a narrative perspective, Matt 4:23–25 introduces the event of the sermon (5:1–2).28 We must note the arbitrary nature of the chapter division between Matt 4:25 and 5:1. Jesus’s synagogue ministry attracts great crowds (ὄχλοι πολλοὶ) from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea, and the Transjordan, who follow him. It is once the crowds from these regions follow him that Jesus ascends the unnamed mountain (5:1). Hence, so far as the progress of the story is concerned, as Craig Evans writes, “Matthew 5:1–2 belongs as much to Matt 4:23–25 as it does to the Sermon on the Mount, which follows.”29 Likewise, Barbara Reid describes the summary statement as a “bridge” from the opening proclamation (4:17) to the “advanced teaching” that follows in Matt 5–7.30 It is also worth noting that Matthew does not report any healing miracle prior to 4:23.31 As previous scholarship has shown, Matt 4:23 appears to anticipate the teaching complex in chapters 5–7, as well as the collection of healing stories that follow in chapters 8–9, by introducing Jesus’s roles as teacher and healer in a summary statement.32 Moreover, the appearance of the verb διδάσκω in 4:23 looks ahead to set the stage for its reappearance in 5:2.33 The significance of all of this for our present purposes is that there is an apparently intentional connection between the mention of teaching in synagogues described in Matt 4:23 and the teaching delivered on the mountain in Matt 5–7.

called “teachers” (καθηγηταί), since there is only one teacher (καθηγητής), the Messiah, whom Matthew establishes to be Jesus himself from the outset of the gospel (1:1). 28. See John Wick Bowman and Roland W. Tapp, The Gospel from the Mount (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1957), 20; Terence L. Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain: A Study in Matthean Theology, JSNTSup 8 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985), 113. 29. Craig A. Evans, Matthew, NCBC (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 97. 30. Barbara E. Reid, The Gospel according to Matthew, NCBC (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2005), 31. 31. As pointed out by Lidija Novakovic, Messiah, the Healer of the Sick: A Study of Jesus as the Son of David in the Gospel of Matthew, WUNT 2/170 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003), 118. 32. See, e.g., Ulrich Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007), 1:165; Julius Schniewind, Das Evangelium nach Matthäus, 8th ed., NTD 2 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1956). 33. See Luz, Matthew, 1:165.



The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching 63

Scholars have long recognized the author’s hand in the formation of Matt 5–7 as a narrative unit, while nevertheless acknowledging that the sermon was woven together by collecting and combining pre-Matthean authentic teaching material.34 Thus, Matthew is the author of the sermon, but not of its content. In the words of Cees Den Heyer, “using tradition— the memories of Jesus’ statements—he [Matthew] has created his Sermon on the Mount.”35 The idea that the sermon was made up of traditional Jesus material compiled by Matthew can be traced back at least as far as John Calvin, who wrote that the Sermon on the Mount was “collected out of his [Jesus’s] many and various discourses.”36 Within the world of the Matthean narrative, the teachings that make up the sermon (Matt 5–7) are given a clear, identifiable setting.37 According to Matt 5:1, “When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain” (ἀνέβη εἰς τὸ ὄρος). It is here, on this unidentified mountain, that the Matthean Jesus delivers the celebrated discourse that has come to be named after its setting: the Sermon on the Mount. As mentioned above, it is essential to include the preceding verses, Matt 4:23–25, in our consideration of the introduction and setting of the sermon.38 The named places from which Jesus draws crowds in Matt 4:25 are significant.39 These regions all belong to what Seán Freyne has identified as the ideological conception of “greater Israel,” the extent of the territory presented in the biblical narrative as belonging to the ideal Israel,40 despite the fact that some of these 34. See, e.g., Luz, Matthew, 1:174; Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:422; Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-rhetorical Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 162–63; John S. Kloppenborg, Excavating Q (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2000), 90; Christopher M. Tuckett, Q and the History of Early Christianity: Studies on Q (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996), 36–37; Benedict T. Viviano, “The Sermon on the Mount in Recent Study,” Bib 78 (1997): 255–65. 35. See Cees den Heyer, “Historic Jesuses,” in Holmén and Porter, Handbook for the Study of the Historical Jesus, 1085. 36. John Calvin, Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists, trans. William Pringle, CC 16 (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1989), 1:216. 37. In fact, W. D. Davies was able to produce an entire monograph specifically on the topic of the setting of the Sermon. See Davies, The Setting of the Sermon on the Mount (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1964). 38. See Bowman and Tapp, Gospel From the Mount, 20; Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain, 113. 39. The contrast between the named places and the unspecified mountain is worth observing. 40. As presented by Seán Freyne, Jesus, a Jewish Galilean: A New Reading of the

64

Jordan Ryan

territories, namely, the Decapolis and the Transjordan, lay outside Jewish political, religious, and social control in the first century CE. Donaldson has effectively shown that the scene depicted in the Sermon on the Mount should be seen within the context of the eschatological gathering of the people of God, best understood in terms of restoration eschatology.41 This hypothesis finds further traction in light of Freyne’s research on the ideological conception of “greater Israel” mentioned above. Thus, the setting of the gathering of the people drawn from the various regions of greater Israel in Matt 5–7 should be understood from a literary perspective as a depiction of the beginning of the realization of the eschatological gathering of the people of God. The narrative sets this gathering specifically on a mountain. As Donaldson’s study of mountains as settings in Matthew’s narrative has shown, this setting has deep meaning for the author, and its selection is not arbitrary.42 Donaldson points to the tendency in Second Temple Jewish literature to view the mountain “as a place where eschatological events were to occur,” which suits Matthew’s purpose of depicting the eschatological event of the gathering of the people of God to Jesus depicted in the setting of the stage in Matt 4:23–5:2 for the sermon.43 He further suggests that in the mountain setting there is an echo of Zion eschatology here, albeit christologically reinterpreted, so that the people are gathered not to Jerusalem, but to Jesus.44 There is some element of a Mosaic Sinai typology in the setting, especially given the discussion of the law in 5:17–42. However, as other scholars have concluded, this Sinai typology is not dominant or pervasive, and giving priority to the Sinai typology may result in missing other key elements of the setting.45 It is important to recognize that the parallel between Matt 5:1 and Exod 19–20 is not exact. For example, as Julius Wellhausen has argued concerning the setting of the sermon, “but Jesus-Story (London: T&T Clark, 2004), 70–91; see also Freyne, “The Geography of Restoration: Galilee-Jerusalem Relations in Early Jewish and Christian Experience,” NTS 47 (2001): 289–311. On the ideal Israel, see, for example, the incredible extent of the borders in the vision of the restored Israel in Ezek 40–48 (esp. 47:1–48:29; Freyne, “Geography of Restoration,” 292–93). 41. Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain, 115. 42. Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain, 115–18. 43. Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain, 115. 44. Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain, 118. 45. Davies, Setting of the Sermon, 107–8; Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain, 112– 14; Julius Wellhausen, Das Evangelium Matthaei (Berlin: Reimer, 1904), 13.



The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching 65

it is not an analogy for Sinai; on Sinai there is only God, Moses and the people stay below.”46 Moreover, the Matthean introduction to the sermon includes Matt 4:23–25,47 not only 5:1, as the crowds mentioned in 5:1 are introduced in 4:23. As is clear in 7:28–29, these crowds are also gathered on the mountain. However, even if we emphasize the Sinai typology, the implied repetition of the Sinai event by Jesus and the crowds gathered from across greater Israel itself evokes restoration eschatology similar to that envisioned in Ezek 20:33–38. In light of our discussion thus far, we may conclude that the authorial decision to set the teaching delivered in Matt 5–7 on a mountain serves to highlight the eschatological dimension of the act of teaching the gathered people of God. The Sermon and the Synagogue In the synagogue, we have a historical setting with missing teaching, while in the sermon we have a collection of teaching that suits that narrative setting. Matthew 5–7 contains a vast amount of traditional teaching material. As such, it gives the reader a good sense of the sort of things that Jesus taught,48 and thus provides the reader of Matthew with some idea as to what the synagogue teaching mentioned but not described in Matt 4:23 and 9:35 would have been like. From a reader-response perspective, the intended reader is not given the opportunity to wonder what was taught in the synagogues, since they are given such a large window into Jesus’s teaching in Matt 5–7. Thus, the statement that Jesus taught in synagogues in Matt 4:23 is illustrated and elaborated by Matt 5–7, despite the fact that it is set on a mountain rather than in a synagogue. As shown by the work of Donaldson, discussed above, the mountain setting functions as the place of eschatological gathering within Matthew’s narrative and within the thought world of Second Temple Judaism. In light of this, we note that the synagogue was by definition the real-world, mundane place of gathering in Jewish society, just as it was the place where, according to the Jesus tradition, people were gathered while Jesus taught

46. Wellhausen, Das Evangelium Matthaei, 13: “Nicht aber ein Analogon des Sinai; auf dem Sinai befindet sich nur Gott, Moses und das Volk bleiben unten.” 47. See Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain, 113. 48. Here I mean the Matthean Jesus, that is, Jesus as presented by the Gospel of Matthew. However, I have elsewhere made this same point about the historical Jesus.

66

Jordan Ryan

during his Galilean ministry.49 We have already discussed the eschatological setting of both gathering places, that of the synagogue and that of the mountain, in Matthew’s narrative world. Taken together, it is probably not mere coincidence that the act of teaching in the synagogue in Matt 4:23 looks ahead to and is illustrated by the teaching delivered in Matt 5–7. Just as the particular event of the gathering and teaching on the mountain has eschatological significance and meaning in Matthew’s narrative world, so too does the habitual gathering and teaching that takes place in the local synagogues described in 4:23 and 9:35. Evoking the Synagogue on the Mountain There are a number of ways in which the Matthean Sermon narrative evokes the synagogue. The degree to which elements of the sermon recall synagogue gatherings and functions is notable, which suggests that this was done intentionally by the author. We have already discussed the manner in which the synagogue teaching mentioned in 4:23 anticipates and introduces the teaching on the mountain. This is a narrative connection and clearly derives from the intentional literary arrangement of the First Gospel. Taking this narrative connection as a point of departure, we will discuss several more connections between the synagogue and Matt 5–7 here. The scribal teaching referred to in Matt 7:29 is synagogue teaching. Mark 1:21–22 indicates that scribes were the typical teachers in public synagogue settings.50 This makes a good deal of sense, given that synagogue discourse typically involved the law, and scribes, who by definition held a high level of literacy,51 could access texts by reading them. Thus, within the context of Matthew’s story, the Sermon on the Mount teaching is directly compared to and contrasted with typical synagogue teaching. The crowd is astounded by the teaching because Jesus teaches “as one having author49. As discussed above. 50. This finds further support in Mark 9:11; 12:35; and in evidence from the Mishnah, e.g., m. Yad. 3:2; m. Tehar. 4:7; m. Parah 11:5; m. Sanh. 11:3. See Ryan, Role of the Synagogue, 56–57. See also the discussion of synagogue roles in Binder, Into the Temple Courts, 343–87, esp. 367. 51. Although the curious case of Petaus, the semiliterate village scribe of secondcentury CE Egypt, and his colleague Ischyrion, should give us pause (see the Petaus Papyri).



The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching 67

ity, and not as their scribes.” At the very least, we can say that the reader is meant to understand here a clear distinction between the teachings given in the sermon and typical synagogue teaching, stemming from the fact that Jesus taught as one having authority. This means that the crowd, and presumably the intended audience with them, draws a natural connection between the sermon’s teaching and typical synagogue teaching, as though the two are comparable, though recognizing the astounding quality of Jesus’s teaching as teaching by one with authority. Strikingly, this means that the sermon is itself bookended by mentions of synagogue teaching, first Jesus’s synagogue teaching in 4:23 and then the teaching of the scribes in 7:29. In other words, the Sermon on the Mount is literally framed by references to synagogue teaching. Although it is tempting to call this an inclusio, it is perhaps better to simply conclude that this framing is probably intentional and should thus draw our attention to the relationship between the sermon and the synagogue. Some of the content of the teaching contained in Matt 5–7 finds a natural context within a synagogue setting. In particular, Matt 5:17–20 and the group of sayings concerning the law that follow (the so-called antitheses) in verses 21–48 are the sort of legal teaching that we would expect to encounter in a synagogue. In fact, I have argued elsewhere that, on the historical level, the antitheses represent the sort of teaching delivered by the historical Jesus in public synagogue settings that Matthew preserved and arranged in his narrative of the Sermon on the Mount.52 That argument need not be rehashed in full here, since it is more relevant to the study of the historical Jesus than to the study of the Gospel of Matthew. Nevertheless, it is worth observing in a general way that the synagogue was where the law was read, interpreted, and discussed and that the antitheses concern legal interpretation and practice. There are six antitheses in total, of which five explicitly discuss a Mosaic commandment, while the sixth likely alludes to or is related to one. They are on the topics of (1) murder (Matt 5:21–26, on Exod 20:13;, see Gen 9:5–6), (2) adultery (Matt 5:27–30, on Exod 20:14), (3) divorce (Matt 5:31–32, on Deut 24:10–14), (4) oaths (Matt 5:33–37, on Deut 23:23), (5) retaliation (Matt 5:38–42, on Exod 21:23–25; see Deut 19:21), and (6) love for enemies (Matt 5:43–48; the reference is unclear, though it is generically related to Lev 19:18). 52. In Ryan, Role of the Synagogue, 152–68.

68

Jordan Ryan

Whether or not we consider the antitheses to represent the sort of thing taught in a synagogue by the historical Jesus, as I have argued elsewhere, the antitheses evoke a synagogue setting even just insofar as they are legal interpretation,53 as the reading and interpretation of the law was the signature function of synagogues during this period. That a building and the institutional, local-official structure of the public synagogue are lacking is irrelevant, since neither of these things on their own define synagogue, and are at any rate beside the point—Matthew is not depicting an actual public synagogue gathering that might have taken place in first-century CE Galilee, but he is painting a scene that is reminiscent of a synagogue gathering, and in my opinion he has done so intentionally. We cannot treat each of the antitheses here,54 but it is worth discussing at least one of them to see how it relates to and evokes a synagogue setting. Matthew 5:21–26, the teaching on murder, concerns both legal interpretation and the ramifications of that interpretation. The idea expressed in verse 22 is that a person can be held legally culpable (ἔνοχος ἔσται τῇ κρίσει) for the feeling or display of anger.55 It almost goes without saying that the notion of expressing what one can or cannot be held legally accountable for certainly suits and recalls a synagogue setting. Not only was the synagogue where the practice of law was interpreted for Jewish locales, but moreover, it functioned as a Jewish court.56

53. On the antitheses as scribal disputes about the meaning and appropriate understanding of torah, see Berndt Schaller, “The Character and Function of the Antitheses in Matt 5:21–48 in the Light of Rabbinical Exegetic Disputes,” in The Sermon on the Mount and Its Jewish Setting, ed. Hans-Jürgen Becker and Serge Ruzer, CahRB 60 (Paris: Gabalda, 2005), 70–88. This sort of dispute fits naturally within a synagogue setting, wherein discussion of the interpretation and practice of the law was a regular feature of Sabbath assemblies. See Carl Mosser, “Torah Instruction, Discussion, and Prophecy in First-Century Synagogues,” in Christian Origins and Hellenistic Judaism: Social and Literary Contexts for the New Testament, ed. Stanley E. Porter and Andrew W. Pitts, TENTS 10 (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 523–51. 54. See the chapter by James Crossley, “Matthew and the Torah: Jesus as Legal Interpreter,” in this volume. 55. This is reminiscent of other examples in Second Temple Jewish literature in which anger and murder are associated with each other, such as Sir 22:24; T. Dan 1.7–8; T. Gad 4.1–7; T. Sim. 2.11; T. Zeb. 4.11. 56. In the New Testament, see Mark 13:9 (see also Luke 21:12, Matt 10:17–18); Matt 23:34; Acts 22:19; in other Jewish literature, see Sir 23:24; LXX Sus 28; m. Mak. 3:12. For discussion, see Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 395–96.



The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching 69

There is some debate as to whether this culpability should be understood in terms of human law, in which case a synagogue setting is almost certainly called to mind, or as eschatological divine judgment.57 The issue especially concerns verse 22. It is true that the mention of Gehenna appears to indicate an eschatological setting, but in my opinion, ἔνοχος ἔσται τῷ συνεδρίῳ (“liability to the council”) more likely envisions a human court than an eschatological scene.58 In verse 21, ἔνοχος (“liable”) refers to liability for murder. Murder was, naturally, a crime that was tried in human courts in Jewish locales (e.g., Josephus, A.J. 14.168–177; see also 1.102; m. Mak. 1:8–10; 2:1–2, 6, 7–8). Thus, it is hard to accept that it would refer to something else in verse 22.59 The term συνέδριον in verse 22 refers to a gathering or council,60 and it most likely refers in this case to a local council or a judicial body, which would naturally be connected to the local synagogue. Furthermore, and perhaps most importantly, it is inconceivable that punitive justice for murder would be understood to be put off entirely until the eschatological judgment. Finally, verses 23–25 explicitly describe human legal systems.61 Thus, while there is an eschatological element to the judgment under discussion, there is also undoubtedly a human court system envisioned here as well. What does this reveal about the sermon and its connection to the synagogue? In the first antithesis (Matt 5:21–26), we are presented with a teaching that not only recalls a synagogue setting but is perhaps best understood within a synagogue setting, since it concerns legal inter57. Compare, e.g., Keener, Matthew, 183–84; J. Duncan M. Derrett, “ Ἔνοχος (Mt 5, 21–22) and the Jurisprudence of Heaven,” FN 19 (2006): 89–97; Joachim Jeremias, New Testament Theology, trans. John Bowden (New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1971), 149; Luz, Matthew, 1:235–236; Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:512. 58. Eschatological setting: e.g., Keener, Matthew, 184; human court setting: e.g., Luz, Matthew, 1:235; W. D. Davies, The Setting of the Sermon on the Mount (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1964), 236–38. 59. See Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:512. 60. See Sanders, Judaism: Practice and Belief, 473. See also the entry in LSJ. Sanders has called into question traditional conceptions about “the Sanhedrin” as a supreme legislative assembly. 61. On συνέδριον see Davies, Setting of the Sermon on the Mount, 238. See also Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:514. On the connection to the local synagogue, see Jörg Frey, “The Character and Background of Matt 5:25–26: On the Value of Qumran Literature in New Testament Interpretation,” in Becker and Ruzer, Sermon on the Mount and Its Jewish Setting, 31–37.

70

Jordan Ryan

pretation and practice on a local-official level. Moreover, this particular teaching concerns synagogue practices insofar as it concerns Jewish court and legal practice. A review of the content of the discourse of Matt 5–7 reveals other teachings related to synagogue practice. Although the status of communal public prayer in synagogues during the Second Temple period is much debated,62 the mention of “hypocrites” who pray in the synagogues (6:5) likely refers to, at the very least, informal personal prayer said aloud in an ostentatious manner meant to demonstrate personal piety. That this serves as a negative example, contrasted with the exhortation to pray in private, means that 6:5–6 is at least in part a teaching concerning appropriate behavior in a synagogue setting. The relevance of the teaching on charity in 6:1–4 is more clear, since charitable giving belonged to the domain of early synagogues,63 and as the synagogue setting for charitable giving is mentioned in 6:2. It goes without saying that these teachings evoke a synagogue setting insofar as they envision a synagogue setting and discuss appropriate behavior within that setting. The depiction of Jesus sitting down before beginning to teach in Matt 5:1 may also evoke a synagogue setting. It is of course true that teaching could be done while sitting elsewhere (e.g., John 8:2), meaning that sitting and teaching does not necessarily recall synagogue practice. Nevertheless it does appear as though there was a practice of sitting before teaching in early Palestinian synagogues.64 In Luke 4:16–30, the author

62. See the variety of opinions in, for example, Martin Hengel, “Proseuche und Synagoge: Jüdische Gemeinde, Gotteshaus und Gottesdienst in der Diaspora und in Palästina,” in The Synagogue: Studies in Origins, Archaeology and Architecture, ed. Joseph Gutmann, LBS (New York: Ktav, 1975), 27–54; Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 23; Catto, Reconstructing the First-Century Synagogue, 125–26, 150; Heather A. McKay, “Ancient Synagogues: The Continuing Dialectic between Two Major Views,” CurBR 6 (1998) 103–42; McKay, Sabbath and Synagogue: The Question of Sabbath Worship in Ancient Judaism, RGRW 122 (Leiden: Brill, 1994), passim; Stefan C. Reif, Judaism and Hebrew Prayer: New Perspectives on Jewish Liturgical History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 44–52. Levine writes that prayer is the “most problematic component” of synagogue worship in scholarship (Ancient Synagogue, 162). 63. On this, see Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 396–98. 64. As discussed by Runesson, Origins of the Synagogue, 219; see also Anders Runesson, “The Historical Jesus, the Gospels, and First-Century Jewish Society: The Importance of the Synagogue for Understanding the New Testament,” in A City Set on a Hill: Essays in Honor of James F. Strange, ed. Daniel A. Warner and Donald D. Binder



The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching 71

depicts Jesus standing to read from the Isaiah scroll (vv. 16–17), then sitting before teaching (v. 20). Curiously, the same author depicts Paul standing prior to teaching in the diaspora Jewish association synagogue of Pisidian Antioch (Acts 13:16). Notably, this description coheres with Philo’s description, also coming from the diaspora, of the synagogue congregation, but not the teacher, standing while expounding Scripture (Spec. 2.62). On the other hand, Luke’s description of Jesus sitting before teaching coheres with a Palestinian Jewish tradition preserved in the Tosefta concerning the reading of Scripture in a synagogue context. According to t. Meg. 3.12 (see also t. Sukkah 2.11), the reader “stands and reads and sits down.” This means that they would be sitting while teaching. We have no descriptions stemming from the land of someone standing while teaching in a synagogue, though it does appear that they would have been standing while reading. Given that Matt 5:1 shows Jesus sitting down before teaching and that it depicts him teaching on the law, this background material is significant. When connected and combined with the other evidence discussed above, I suggest that the scene of Jesus seated and teaching, especially given that his teaching concerns the law in 5:17–48 and that the audience directly compares Jesus’s teaching to synagogue teaching in Matt 7:29, is likely meant to evoke the image of synagogue teaching. The Sermon as Eschatological Synagogue Teaching To summarize the findings thus far, the teaching of the Sermon on the Mount (1) is intentionally anticipated and introduced by Matt 4:23, which describes Jesus teaching in a synagogue setting; (2) replaces the Markan episode of Jesus’s teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum within Matthew’s retelling of Mark’s narrative; (3) is directly compared and contrasted to typical scribal synagogue teaching by the audience in Matt 7:29; (4) depicts Jesus teaching on the law, which was a characteristic function of the synagogue, (5) on topics that are best understood within synagogue settings, (6) and on appropriate behavior and practice in synagogue settings, (7) while in the traditional posture used when teaching in synagogues in the land of Israel. When these elements are taken together, it is clear that

(Mountain Home, AR: Borderstone, 2014), 288–89; Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 158; Ryan, Role of the Synagogue, 172–74.

72

Jordan Ryan

the scene painted by Matthew of the Sermon on the Mount is intended to evoke a synagogue setting despite not being literally set in a synagogue. In the Sermon on the Mount, we have a gathering of the people of Israel at which teaching, particularly on the law, is given, whose authority is recognized by the assembled crowds,65 and which is directly compared and contrasted in the world of Matthew’s narrative to typical synagogue teaching. There is a certain sense in which the Sermon on the Mount is synagogue, though not in the literal sense. It is not a typical, local-official public synagogue gathering, but perhaps an eschatological synagogue assembly. The torah announced publicly and discussed aloud to the assembly is not the Sinaitic torah per se, and it is not read from a scroll. Donaldson, building on the work of W. D. Davies, has shown that the teaching of the sermon and its relation to the giving of torah should be understood in light of Zion eschatology,66 especially in light of traditions depicting Zion as the scene of the new giving of torah, or the giving of a new law.67 Thus, the signature function of the synagogue is present in Matt 5–7. Through Jesus’s teaching in the Sermon on the Mount we have the public giving and discussion of torah to the assembled people in the form of the eschatological new giving of torah. That the sermon does not take place in a quadrilateral-shaped building with stepped benches lining the walls and columns supporting a clerestory ceiling is irrelevant on several counts. First, I am not suggesting that the Sermon on the Mount is a literal synagogue gathering but that it intentionally evokes one. Moreover, as discussed above, the synagogue encompasses multiple aspects, and what we call “synagogue” refers as much to the assembly itself as the place where the assembly occurs. As discussed above, the assembly present at the Sermon on the Mount has eschatological overtones, as it is a gathering drawn from the corners of greater Israel. It is also important to recognize that, according to Matt 4:23–25, they are gathered to Jesus at least in part as a consequence of his synagogue ministry. The gathering itself is the sum of his synagogue ministry and his healing activity.

65. It is worth mentioning that Josephus refers to the assembly of the Tiberian synagogue as a “crowd” (ὄχλος) in Vita 277–303. 66. Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain, 116–18. 67. See Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain, 45–46. See Isa 2:2–3 (“out of Zion shall go forth Torah”); Jer 31:1–37 (esp. v. 33); Ezek 20:40–44, 40:1–48:35.



The Sermon on the Mount as Synagogue Teaching 73

The crowd’s recognition of Jesus teaching as one who has authority in 7:29 is significant. We should recall that some of the teaching is instruction for legal procedure and practice,68 and in the case of the first antithesis (discussed above), the Matthean Jesus apparently envisions a situation in which his instruction is put into practice in human courts, as though the sermon has implications for Jewish life that reach into the local-official sphere. The recognition of Jesus teaching as one with authority takes on even more meaning given that it comes from the crowd, especially in light of the importance of the opinion of the public in synagogue settings, in which the assembled public needed to be persuaded of the wisdom of something put before them in order for it to go forward.69 This image, which Matthew actually lifted from a depiction of a synagogue assembly recognizing the authority of Jesus’s teaching (Mark 1:22), is of the gathered assembly of the people of God approving of the teaching presented to them by Jesus through recognizing the authority with which it was taught, which they contrast with the typical synagogue teaching of local scribes. It is thus an image of the people of God being presented with and accepting statutes for the eschatological, renewed Israel. It is, in the words of Ben Meyer, “Torah for a graced and restored Israel.”70 Just as teaching in local public synagogue assemblies defined local practice, as well as the interpretation of the law, along with the course of political action for the towns and villages of Galilee, so too does the Sermon on the Mount define these things for the eschatological assembly of the people of God.

68. Again, see Schaller, “Character and Function,” 70–88. 69. I have demonstrated this in depth elsewhere. See, e.g., Jordan J. Ryan, “Jesus and Synagogue Disputes: Recovering the Institutional Context of Luke 13:10–17,” CBQ 79 (2017): 41–59. The importance of persuading the assembled public for decision making in synagogue gatherings was also the primary topic of “The Art of Persuasion: The Socio-political Context of Public Synagogue Debates in the SecondTemple Period,” a paper I delivered at a conference titled The Synagogue in Ancient Palestine (Helsinki, September 21–24, 2016). Plans to publish the conference papers are in progress. 70. Ben F. Meyer, Aims of Jesus, PTMS 48 (Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2002), 141.

Matthew and the Temple Akiva Cohen

The present chapter acknowledges the role that one’s preunderstanding plays in the reading process and that an understanding of and comparison with near-contemporary Jewish texts provides an appropriate context for a historical reading of Matthew’s engagement with the Jerusalem temple. I begin by briefly situating Matthew’s view of the temple within his own Jewish context,1 that is, the wider context of Second Temple Judaism(s) and postdestruction rabbinic views of God’s presence in the temple. This will illustrate Matthew’s agreement with the dominant view reflected in Scripture and early rabbinic tradition, that is, that God’s presence resided in the temple. I will then compare Matthew’s temple-Messiah-centered theology to examples of early rabbinic texts related to the temple, the people of Israel, and the sages. Finally, I will note Matthew’s view of the temple in recent scholarship, in Matthew’s canonical context, in Davidic

1. A clear example of the “Jewishness” of Matthew’s text is his use of φυλακτήριον (“phylacteries,” tephillin) in Matt 23:5, a hapax legomenon in the New Testament, and Matthew’s use of κράσπεδον (Matt 9:20; 14:36; 23:5; Mark 6:56; Luke 8:44). The entry for the latter in BAGD, s.v. “κράσπεδον,” hesitates to assign the meaning of ‫ ציצת‬to the first two Matthean references, assigning it only to the clear reference in BAGD’s second sense for Matt 23:5. The editorial comment unpacks the theological stakes: “But mng. 2 is also prob. for these passages, depending on how strictly Jesus followed the Mosaic law.” It is unthinkable to the present author that Jesus, who says in Matt 5:19a, ὃς ἐὰν οὖν λύσῃ μίαν τῶν ἐντολῶν τούτων τῶν ἐλαχίστων καὶ διδάξῃ οὕτως τοὺς ἀνθρώπους, ἐλάχιστος κληθήσεται ἐν τῇ βασιλείᾳ τῶν οὐρανῶν, would not himself have obeyed the torah’s clear commandment (Num 15:38; Deut 22:12) to wear tzitzit as well as (at times) don tephillin in community prayer, as a Jew γενόμενον ὑπὸ νόμον (Gal 4:4c). There is no hint of controversy from Jesus’s opponents in the First Gospel concerning his teaching and personal practice related to these two identity markers, and Jesus’s criticism related only to their ostentatiousness use, not their use per se.

-75-

76

Akiva Cohen

Christology, in ἐκκλησία and the temple, in the temple’s destruction and Jesus’s authority, and in the temple’s transformation. Postexilic and Postdestruction Rabbinic Views of God’s Presence in the Second Temple In continuity with the Hebrew Bible, the Second Temple—preceded by the tabernacle and First Temple—plays a central role in Matthew’s narrative as the locus of God’s name, presence, and holiness, the place where obligatory and freewill offerings were brought to its altar.2 The Second Temple served as the institutional and symbolic center of Jewish identity for all Jews, whether they lived in Israel or the farthest reaches of the diaspora. As noted by John Barclay, “The fact that, each year, tens of thousands of diaspora Jews flocked to Jerusalem on such festival occasions indicates the strength of the magnetic field established by the temple: Jews (both male and female) were drawn there from all points of the compass.”3 In a short but valuable entry in an anthology on the Second Temple, Graham Davies summarizes postexilic and later rabbinic views on the presence of God in the Second Temple.4 Davies begins by noting the common assumption held by the people of Israel during the First Temple that God was present in a special way in the temple and that it could thus be referred to as his “dwelling place” (‫)מושב‬.5 He also notes what he 2. For God’s name, presence, etc., see, e.g.: (tabernacle) Ezek 40:34; Num 9:15; (First Temple) 1 Kgs 8:10–11; 2 Kgs 23:27; 2 Chr 7:1; 20; (Second Temple) Ezek 43:2–4 (?); Hag 2:3, 7–9; Matt 23:21; for sacrifices and offerings, see, e.g.: (tabernacle) Exod 10:25; 35:29; Lev 1:3; Num 29:39; (First Temple) 1 Kgs 8:64; 2 Chr 31:14; (Second Temple) Ezra 3:2–3; Neh 12:43; (Second/Herodian Temple) Matt 5:23; 8:4; 23:18. 3. John M. G. Barclay, Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora: From Alexander to Trajan (323 CBE–117 CE) (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996), 419–20. See Binder on the relationship between Second Temple synagogues and the temple: Donald D. Binder, Into the Temple Courts: The Place of the Synagogues in the Second Temple Period, SBLDS 169 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 1999). 4. Graham I. Davies, “The Presence of God in the Second Temple and Rabbinic Doctrine,” in Templum Amicitiae: Essays on the Second Temple Presented to Ernst Bammel, ed. William Horbury JSOTSup 48 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1991), 32–36. 5. Davies, “Presence of God,” 32; Ps 132:13. Davies includes ‫משכן‬, which is, however, used almost exclusively as an appellation for the tabernacle. For exceptions see, e.g., Ps 74:7; Ezra 7:15; see also the direct distinction made between ‫ בית‬and ‫אהל‬/‫משכן‬ in 1 Chr 17:5.



Matthew and the Temple 77

terms “the commonly held belief ” that by the time the Second Temple was built this view was no longer dominant. An increased emphasis on God’s transcendence, or the relegation of his presence in Jerusalem to eschatological hope—so it is asserted—resulted in a loss of belief in God’s presence in Jerusalem.6 Davies refers to b. Yoma 21b as a talmudic passage sometimes marshaled to prove such claims that “in five aspects, the first sanctuary differed from the second: the ark, the ark cover, the Cherubim, the fire, the Presence of God, the Holy Spirit [prophecy], and the Oracle Plate.”7 Arguing against the aforementioned view, Davies lists several canonical and extracanonical passages in support of the postexilic belief in the presence of God in the Second Temple. For an example of the former, he notes Joel 4:17 (Heb. 3:17), “So you shall know that I, the Lord your God, dwell in Zion, my holy mountain” (‫)וידעתם כי אני יהוה אלהיכם שכן בציון הר־קדשי‬.8 6. Davies, “Presence of God,” 32. 7. Jacob Neusner, The Talmud of Babylonia: An American Translation, BJS (Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1984–1995), translates “the Urim and Thummim” as “the Oracle Plate.” The talmudic passage is: ‫אלו חמשה דברים שהיו בין מקדש ראשון למקדש שני ואילו‬ ‫הן ארון וכפורת וכרובים אש ושכינה ורוח הקודש ואורים ותומים‬. Davies clarifies that this talmudic passage is one of four rabbinic passages that lists “five things missing from the Second Temple,” and that the remaining three passages (Yoma 52b; Songs Rab. 8.9.3; Num. Rab. 15.10) all exclude the Shekinah as absent (“Presence of God,” 36). Furthermore, b. Yoma 21b clarifies its own statement by adding “They [the five ‘things’ just noted as absent] were present, but they were not as helpful [as before].” The limitations of this present essay prohibit any engagement with the obvious anachronism of using the Talmuds and late midrashim as close comparisons with Second Temple perspectives; as distant comparisons, however, they are valuable for intertextual readings. 8. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations follow the NRSV. Davies notes that Ps 135:21, ‫( ברוך יהוה מציון שכן ירושלם הללו־יה‬considered postexilic), and 11Q19 (Temple Scroll) XXIX, 7–10 (in spite of the Qumran community’s antipathy to the priesthood of the Jerusalem temple), use the verb ‫ שכן‬in relation to Jerusalem (Ps 135:12) and in relation to the temple (Davies, “Presence of God,” 34). Davies cites other examples, e.g., Josephus (B.J. 6.299), who relates that the priests heard a cry in the temple on Pentecost (Shavuoth), “We are leaving this place” (μεταβαίνομεν ἐντεῦθεν); and m. Sukkah 5:4, “They turned around toward the west, and they said, ‘Our fathers who were in this place turned with their backs toward the Temple of the Lord and their faces toward the east, and they worshipped the sun toward the east (Ez. 8:16). But as to us, our eyes are to the Lord.’ ” Translations of the Mishnah are from Jacob Neusner, The Mishnah: A New Translation (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1988). Davies’s point is that both of these passages (retrospectively) assume the presence of God in the Second Temple.

78

Akiva Cohen

Nonetheless, there are apocalyptic traditions from Second Temple groups that followed Ezekiel in looking for fulfillment of their eschatological hopes in a future temple.9 Before comparing Matthew’s Gospel with some early Jewish texts, I will briefly note the central role that our preunderstanding plays in our reading of texts. The need for this clarification is apparent because New Testament scholars who argue that Matthew—or the historical Jesus—held a negative view of the temple and scholars who hold the opposite view both appeal to the same textual data. The Hermeneutical Circle and Matthean Readings The hermeneutical process of apprehending a text’s parts that inform one’s understanding of its whole is sometimes described as a hermeneutical circle or spiral.10 The image of a circle or spiral depicts the “progressive dialectic” that takes place as one’s understanding of a text’s parts and its whole reciprocally inform each other. A second type of hermeneutical circle, noted by Anthony Thiselton, “traces a parallel dialectic between the poles of a ‘preliminary’ understanding or (reflecting the German) of preunderstanding (Vorverständnis), and a fuller understanding (Verstehen).”11 Our preunderstanding of the New Testament in general, and Matthew in particular, has a formative influence on our understanding of the character of the Matthean community12 and its relationship to the symbolic universe of 9. See Daniel M. Gurtner and Nicholas Perrin, “Temple,” DJG 2, 941, for the following selective references: future temple, 1 En. 90.28–29; impure temple, 1 En. 89.72–74. See, however, John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016), 57, who notes that if Onias III is identified with “one of the lambs” in 90.8 then the rejection of the Jerusalem temple needs to be modified; T. Levi 15.1; T. Mos. 5.3–4; heavenly sanctuary, 2 Bar. 4.5; Jub. 1.16, 27–28; and the belief by the Qumran sect that the “wicked priest” had defiled the temple, 1QpHab XII, 8–9. 10. See, e.g., Antony C. Thiselton, “Hermeneutical Circle,” in Dictionary for Theological Interpretation of the Bible, ed. Kevin J. Vanhoozer (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005), 281–82. 11. Thiselton, “Hermeneutical Circle,” 281. 12. Or for that matter, the Markan, Lukan, or Johannine community. For some representative seminal works published in English that serve as signposts from the last and the present century of Matthean scholarship, see Benjamin W. Bacon, “The ‘Five Books’ of Moses against the Jews,” Exp 15 (1918): 56–66; George D. Kilpatrick, The Origins of the Gospel to St. Matthew (Oxford: Clarendon, 1946); W. D. Davies, The Setting of the Sermon on the Mount (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1964);



Matthew and the Temple 79

Judaism, for example, God, election, torah, temple, atonement, synagogue, the wider Jewish community, and non-Jews, and so on.13 The determinative role of one’s preunderstanding can be illustrated by comparing the divergent conclusions made by prominent Matthean scholars based on their respective readings of Matthew’s text. For example, Jack Kingsbury, in his seminal literary-critical reading of Matthew, asks, What is to be said at the end of the story regarding the religious leaders? Two things, the first of which is tragically ironic. Owing to the leaders’ abject repudiation of Jesus, they unwittingly effect, not the salvation of Israel as they had anticipated, but just the opposite, Israel’s demise as God’s special people: they bring a curse upon themselves and the people (27:25);14 they provoke the destruction of Jerusalem (22:7); and they unknowingly make themselves responsible for the transfer of God’s Rule to another nation, the church, which becomes God’s end-time people (21:43; 16:18; 13:38).15

Kingsbury’s conclusion that the rejection of Jesus by Israel’s religious leaders brings about “Israel’s demise as God’s special people” and “the transfer of God’s Rule to another nation, the church, which becomes God’s end-time people” represents his theological understanding based on his literarycritical reading of Matthew’s parts (pericopes) and its unified narrative (the J. Andrew Overman, Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism: The Social World of the Matthean Community (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990); Graham N. Stanton, A Gospel for a New People: Studies in Matthew (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1992); Anthony J. Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, CSHJ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994); Anders Runesson, “Re-thinking Early Jewish-Christian Relations: Matthean Community History as Pharisaic Intra-group Conflict,” JBL 127 (2008): 95–132; Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative Word of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016); Matthias Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew, trans. Kathleen Ess, BMSEC (Waco: Baylor University Press, 2014). 13. This list is meant to be illustrative, not exhaustive. 14. See Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 37, who more clearly distinguishes between the leadership and the crowds in Matthew. “The crowds are portrayed as fundamentally friendly, but also unreliable.… They follow him, listen, marvel at his teaching or miraculous deeds, are astonished.… They are seen as sheep without a shepherd.” See also the essay by Matthaias Konradt in this volume on the role of the crowds in Matthew’s Gospel. 15. Jack Dean Kingsbury, Matthew as Story, 2nd rev. and enl. ed. (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1988), 124.

80

Akiva Cohen

gospel). Questions to be explored in Kingsbury’s statement would be: How does Matthew convey that Israel has ceased to be God’s special people, (i.e., lost its covenantal relationship with God)?16 What is the extent and duration of the putative curse Israel’s religious leaders bring on it? What are the theological implications of the temple’s destruction?17 How is the church a nation? More fundamentally, what is the church? Anders Runesson, commenting on the relationship between Jesus’s death and the destruction of the temple, arrives at a very different conclusion. “In Matthew’s world, then, Jesus’s death is God’s response to the destruction of the temple and the people’s loss of its mechanisms of atonement.… In this Gospel, then, contrary to later Christian beliefs, Jesus is the solution to the destruction of the temple, not its cause; indeed his ritualized death is presented precisely as a way of saving the Jewish people as a people.”18 In other instances divergent views on the same temple-related passages are based on the nuanced and complex issue of cultic purity. The category of ritual purity is relevant to Matthew and the temple because the whole system of ‫( טמאה‬ritual impurity) in Second Temple Judaism is inextricably connected to the temple.19 Commenting on the man with the skin disease,20 whom Jesus healed in Matt 8:1–4, Donald Hagner notes, 16. Kingsbury still sees the hope of salvation held out to individual Jews; see Matthew as Story, 127: “The death of Jesus, which the religious leaders had envisaged would be the sign of Jesus’ destruction, becomes instead the means whereby God achieves salvation for the world, Jew and Gentile alike (1:21; 20:28; 26:28).” 17. See James D. G. Dunn’s comments in The Theology of Paul the Apostle (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 545, related to Pauline theology in 2 Cor 6:16, on God’s temple-like immediate indwelling in the individual, “such a direct indwelling that made redundant any continuing (or for Gentile converts, new) loyalty to the Jerusalem temple.” 18. Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 332, emphasis original. 19. See the essay by Cecilia Wassén in the present volume. The halakic issue of ‫( טמאה‬ritual impurity) is a major category in Judaism organized into a hierarchy of degrees, with ʾabot ha-tum’ah (lit. “fathers [i.e., primary sources] of impurity”) that pass on secondary levels of impurity. Although not my topic, the aspect of ritual purity connected with the baptism of the initiate to the Matthean community (28:18–20) has major implications for its connection to and modification of ritual purity. See the discussion related to ritual purity in Akiva Cohen, “Bilateral Halakic Standards for Jewish and Non-Jewish Community Members,” in Matthew and the Mishnah: Redefining Identity and Ethos in the Shadow of the Second Temple’s Destruction, WUNT 2/418 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016), 203–8. 20. Although most, if not all, English versions translate λεπρός as “leprosy.” Wil-



Matthew and the Temple 81

The fact that they would have been avoided by others at all cost for fear of contagion makes the action of Jesus in reaching out and touching the leper all the more astonishing, as the Greek underlines with ἐκτείνας τὴν χεῖρα, “extended his hand.” Although Jesus could have cured the leper with just a word, he touched the leper, ἣψατο αὐτοῦ—touching the unclean violates the law (cf. Lev 5:3)—and responded θέλω, καθαρίσθητι, “I do want to. Be whole.”… The command σεαυτὸν δεῖξον τῷ ἱερεῖ, “show yourself to the priest,” and the following προσένεγκον τὸ δῶρον ὅ προσέταξεν Μωϋσῆς, “bring as an offering the gift commanded by Moses,” correspond to requirements for the cleansing of a leper according to Lev 13–14.… Jesus is thus shown to be faithful to the stipulations of the Torah in spite of an infraction of the command not to touch.21

Boris Repschinski, commenting on the same pericope, notes, In redacting his Markan source, Matthew states that the sacrifice prescribed by Moses is no longer about the issue of purity but merely εἰς μαρτύριον αὐτοῖς (Matt 8:4). The majority of commentators sees the command to the leper as a witness to the Torah-faithfulness of Jesus, directed at those in the temple. However, this is not entirely convincing. Jesus counter-acts conventions regarding purity, and the encounter with Jesus is what purifies, while the ritual in the temple merely serves as a testimony. Thus, it is highly plausible to take the dative in its adversative meaning, as testimony against those who practice ineffective rituals of purification in the temple.22 helm Michaelis, “λέπρα, λεπρός,” TDNT 4:233–34, notes that this word may not refer to our modern category of leprosy and that “the LXX uses λέπρα for ‫צ ַר ַעת‬,ֶ which is found esp. in Lv. 13 f., or ‫גע־צ ַר ַעת‬ ֶ ֶ‫נ‬, Lv. 13:20; λεπρός, λεπράω, λεπρόομαι are also found in the LXX. In the NT λέπρα and λεπρός refer to the same ailment, or group of ailments, as the words denote in the OT or LXX.” See W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 2:10–11, who also note that the semantic range of this word group is wider than “leper,” covering a variety of skin diseases. The point, nonetheless, is that these various skin diseases would have rendered one excluded from Jerusalem and participation in the temple cult. 21. Donald A. Hagner, Matthew, WBC 33 (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2006), 1:199–200. 22. Boris Repschinski, “Purity in Matthew, James, and the Didache,” in Matthew, James, and Didache: Three Related Documents in Their Jewish and Christian Settings, ed. Hubb van de Sandt and Jürgen K. Zangenberg, SymS 45 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2008), 385.

82

Akiva Cohen

These divergent, and in some aspects antithetical, conclusions from the above examples illustrate the determinative role that our preunderstanding plays as it moves toward understanding. Applied to our topic, Matthew and the temple, it is imperative to employ redaction criticism, composition criticism, and sociological tools in the study of the Synoptics in general and Matthew in particular. We also need to avail ourselves of the advances made in several areas of New Testament studies. It is not my purpose in this essay to discuss the topics that have been the focus of modern reappraisals, but simply to list some prominent examples: Second Temple Judaism, the historical impact of the destruction, the Third Quest for the Historical Jesus, and the so-called parting of the ways.23 Although the lively debate over both Matthew’s and the Matthean community’s Jewishness continues, the application of redaction-critical, compositioncritical, and social-scientific studies, and reappraisals of Second Temple Judaism have pushed the conversation forward.24 Recent scholarship on 23. On Second Temple Judaism, see, e.g., E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977), and the important anthology of responses in Donald A. Carson, Peter T. O’Brien, and Mark Seifrid, Justification and Variegated Nomism, 2 vols. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2001–2004). On the historical impact of the destruction, see, e.g., Daniel R. Schwartz and Zeev Weiss in collaboration with R. A. Clements, eds., Was 70 CE a Watershed in Jewish History? On Jews and Judaism before and after the Destruction of the Second Temple, AJEC 78 (Leiden, Brill, 2012); see also Peter J. Tomson and Joshua Schwartz, Jews and Christians in the First and Second Centuries: How to Write Their History, CRINT 13 (Leiden: Brill, 2014). On the Third Quest for the Historical Jesus, see the helpful survey by Ben Witherington III, The Jesus Quest: The Third Search for the Jew of Nazareth, 2nd ed. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1997). The gospels are the bedrock from which modern views of the historical Jesus are excavated and reconstructed (or deconstructed). The dominant Tendenz in historical Jesus scholarship tends to depict Jesus’s view of the temple as a negative one. On the parting of the ways, see, e.g., Adam H. Becker and Annette Yoshiko Reed, eds., The Ways That Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, TSAJ 95 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003); see now Lori Baron, Jill Hicks-Keeton, and Matthew Thiessen, eds., The Ways That Often Parted: Essays in Honor of Joel Marcus, ECL 24 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2018). For a discussion and critical summary of the seminal influence of James W. Parkes’s The Conflict of the Church and the Synagogue: A Study in the Origins of Antisemitism (London: Soncino, 1934) on the subsequent “partings” proposals, see Joshua E. Burns, The Christian Schism in Jewish History and Jewish Memory (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2016), 19–35. 24. See, e.g., the commemorative volumes written in Saldarini’s honor: Alan J. Avery-Peck, Daniel J. Harrington, and Jacob Neusner, eds., When Judaism and Chris-



Matthew and the Temple 83

Matthew and the Mattheans’ social location is less engaged in the intra versus extra muros debate and more focused on the Mattheans’ liminal status in the midst of a painful separation from their non-Jesus-following Pharisaic community.25 Intertextual Readings of Matthean and Rabbinic Views of the Temple Matthew, Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai, and the Temple In spite of the modern depiction of Jesus as a good Protestant, or Reform Jew, that is, subordinating the cult to mercy (good works, social justice, etc.),26 it is going too far to argue that Jesus’s putative subordination of ritual to ethics, combined with his claim that he was “greater than the temple,” should be understood as his disparagement of the cult. The Matthean Jesus affirms the validity of Israel’s cult, the offering of sacrifices on its θυσιαστήριον (5:23–24), and tithing to the temple’s priests (23:23c).27 Furthermore, Jesus’s tianity Began: Essays in Memory of Anthony J. Saldarini, JSJSup 85, 2 vols. (Leiden: Brill, 2004); and the references in n. 12. For a dissenting view of the Mattheans’ Jewishness, see Douglas R. A. Hare, “How Jewish Is the Gospel of Matthew?,” CBQ 62 (2000): 264–77; for a comparison of Saldarini’s and Hagner’s views on the Jewishness of the Matthean community, see Warren Carter, “Matthew’s Gospel: Jewish Christianity, Christian Judaism, or Neither?,” in Jewish Christianity Reconsidered: Rethinking Ancient Groups and Texts, ed. Matt Jackson-McCabe (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), 155–79. Carter leans more toward Saldarini’s view than that of Hagner, yet remains unsatisfied with attempts to use various combinations of “Christianity/Christian” and “Judaism/Jewish” to locate Matthew’s group identity; he also stresses the need for placing Matthew not only in his Jewish but also in his Roman imperial context (178). 25. See esp. Runesson, “Re-thinking Early Jewish-Christian Relations.” See now Claudia Setzer’s affirmation of Runesson’s proposal in “Sinai, Covenant, and Innocent Blood Traditions in Matthew’s Blood Cry (Matt 27:25),” in Ways That Often Parted, 169–85, esp., 180–81, and my adoption of Runesson’s model in Matthew and the Mishnah, 152–64. 26. See, e.g., Isa 1:10–17; 58; 66:3; Amos 5:21–22, for God’s abhorrence of ritual behavior when social justice is flagrantly ignored. 27. “It is these you ought to have practiced without neglecting the others.” See Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 142, “Tithes were a tax used to support the central religious and political institutions of Israel, the Temple and its priests.… Even in Matthew’s time, tithing was real in Galilee and adjacent areas. The priests did not disappear after the destruction of Jerusalem, nor did they immediately lose their power.” The term θυσιαστήριον in this passage functions as metonymy for the temple. Matthew uses θυσιαστήριον 6x, Mark 0x, Luke 2x. Davies and Allison (Mat-

84

Akiva Cohen

affirmation of Israel’s cult presupposes that God’s holy presence inhabits the temple (23:21).28 The office of the priests and their maintenance of purity laws similarly assume the sanctity of the temple (8:4; 12:4). Daniel Gurtner lucidly summarizes Matthew’s intention in juxtaposing mercy with sacrifice in his citation of Hos 6:6:29 “It is largely accepted that Matthew’s καὶ οὐ is not a starkly contrastive assertion but a Hebraic idiom of ‘dialectical negation’ meaning ‘I desire mercy more than sacrifice.’ ”30 Although Matthew also has a strong emphasis on good works (e.g., Matt 5:16, 19, 20, 42, 44, 45, 48; 6:3, 4; 7:12, 17, 21, 24; 16:27; 24:46; 25:34–45; 28:20), his theological program vis-à-vis the temple is clearly different from its later rabbinic counterpart. In Avot R. Nat. 4.17–18, Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai also cites Hos 6:6 in the context of the temple’s destruction. Once as Rabban Johanan ben Zakkai was coming forth from Jerusalem, Rabbi Joshua followed after him and beheld the Temple in ruins. “Woe unto us!” Rabbi Joshua cried, “that this, the place where the iniquities of Israel were atoned for, is laid waste!” “My son,” Rabban Johanan said to him, “be not grieved; we have another atonement as effective as this. And what is it? It is acts of loving kindness, as it is said, For I desire mercy and not sacrifice” (Hos. 6:6).31

thew, 1:517) note that προσφέρω + δῶρον (conjoined 97 times) is a frequent translation in the LXX for ‫ קרב‬+ ‫קורבן‬, e.g., Lev 2:1a, ‫ונפש כי־תקריב קרבן‬. 28. καὶ ὁ ὀμόσας ἐν τῷ ναῷ ὀμνύει ἐν αὐτῷ καὶ ἐν τῷ κατοικοῦντι αὐτόν, “and whoever swears by the sanctuary, swears by it and by the one who dwells in it.” 29. Matthew 9:13 and 12:7 are the only citations of Hos 6:6 in the New Testament. 30. Daniel M. Gurtner, “Matthew’s Theology of the Temple and the ‘Parting of the Ways’: Christian Origins of the First Gospel,” in Built upon the Rock: Studies in the Gospel of Matthew, ed. Daniel M. Gurtner and John J. Nolland (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 134. Davies and Allison, as Gurtner acknowledges, develop this point (Gurtner, “Matthew’s Theology of the Temple,” 134 n. 24; see Davies and Allison, Matthew, 2:104–5). Gurtner also cites Ulrich Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007), 2:34, for Luz’s insight that this is also the “understanding of Hosea himself, the Targum, and contemporary Jewish exegesis.” 31. Judah Goldin, trans., The Fathers according to Rabbi Nathan, YJS 10 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1955), 34. In the critical edition of the text, “acts of loving kindness” is ‫גמילות חסדים‬. For W. D. Davies’s discussion of Jamnia, see The Setting of the Sermon on the Mount (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1964), 256–315. See also Cohen, Matthew and the Mishnah, 377–96, “The Myth of Yavneh and the Taqqanôt of Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai.”



Matthew and the Temple 85

For Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai mercy (i.e., acts of loving kindness) is seen as a substitute for atonement, whereas for Matthew atonement constitutes the center of his gospel. For both Matthew and Yohanan ben Zakkai, Hos 6:6 serves as a programmatic verse for their respective postdestruction contexts and their very distinct theological visions. Matthew’s portrayal of the relationship of Jesus and his generation to the temple may be compared with some Tannaitic passages in the Tosefta that depict the relationship of exemplary sages and their generation to Israel’s cult. The Relationship of Israel, the Sages, and Jesus to the Temple In the Tosefta there is an inextricable relationship between the spiritual condition of corporate Israel and the presence of God. The following Tannaitic passage provides an interesting comparison with Matthew. “When the latter prophets died, that is, Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi, then the Holy Spirit came to an end in Israel. But even so, they made them hear [Heavenly messages] through an echo. M‘ŚH Š: Sages gathered together in the upper room of the house of Guria in Jericho, and a heavenly echo came forth and said to them, ‘There is a man among you who is worthy to receive the Holy Spirit, but his generation is unworthy of such an honor’ ” (t. Sotah 13.3).32 This Toseftan passage comments on two aspects of God’s presence: first, with the death of the postexilic prophets the Holy Spirit (i.e., prophecy) ceased in Israel, although the ‫ בת קול‬was heard.33 Second, the virtue of a given sage’s worthiness to merit the Holy Spirit was nullified by his generation’s lack of virtue. The Matthean Jesus relates to his generation in various logia. The word γενεά is used by Matthew nine times in the following contexts: what it may be compared to (11:16), its evil and adulterous nature (12:39), its condemnation (12:41, 42; 16:4), its spiritual deterioration (12:25), its faithlessness and perversity (17:17), its judgment

32. Translations of the Tosefta are from Jacob Neusner, The Tosefta: Translated from the Hebrew with a New Introduction (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2002). 33. Neusner translates the ‫ בת קול‬as simply “an echo” (i.e., of the prophetic voice). A literal translation is “daughter of the voice.” See Daniel Sperber, “Bat Qol,” ODJR, 104, “A term in rabbinic literature that denotes a heavenly voice announcing divine reactions to certain events and, at times, even approval of halakhic decisions.” Sperber also mentions the distinction between prophecy given to an individual (uniquely called in relationship with God) and the ‫בת קול‬, which could be heard by groups of people (normally sages in the rabbinic literature).

86

Akiva Cohen

for the blood of the righteous (23:36), and its presence during the eschatological signs that culminate with the coming of the Son of Man (24:34). All of these examples, save the last one, are clearly negative and thus point to God’s judgment by the withdrawal of his presence from the Second Temple and the latter’s eventual destruction. In the same Toseftan passage the Tannaim depict the worthiness of given sages to receive the Holy Spirit and how their presence ameliorated the spiritual decline of Israel. For example, “So long as Simeon the Righteous was alive, the altar-fire was perpetual.… After Simeon the Righteous died, however, the power of the altar-fire grew weak” (t. Sotah 13.7). The implication seems to be a direct relationship between the virtue of a given ‫( צדיק‬an exemplary sage) and the proper functioning of the cult, and inversely, the deterioration of Israel’s cult as a result of the death of a godly sage. For Matthew the wickedness of Jesus’s generation (γενεά) focuses on those in Israel who respond negatively to Jesus,34 which culminates in his death by crucifixion and the Second Temple’s destruction. Matthew, as noted above, has a generally positive view of the crowds, many of whom listen to and follow Jesus. Matthew also does not question the legitimacy of the Jerusalem temple as Israel’s central religious institution,35 but in following and adapting his Markan source, he

34. See Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 373: “The words against ἡ γενεὰ αὕτη (hē genea hautē) in Matt 11:16–19; 12:38–45; 16:1–4; and 23:34–36 are likewise aimed at the authorities, not the people as a whole.” See the more nuanced reading of Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation: “ ‘This generation’ is indeed an all-encompassing designation for Jesus’s (Jewish) contemporaries, which includes the disciples” and “represents a theo-chronological marker, indicating that the present time is the time of the last generation before the eschatological end and the final judgment” (272–73, 275). Runesson cogently refutes the interpretation that “this generation” indicates that “Israel will, irrevocably, be judged and condemned,” and further notes the problematic nature of both ancient and modern interpretations that then necessarily exclude the disciples from “this generation” i.e., “Israel” (271). Rather, “this generation,” in spite of their spiritual obduracy, is the object of Jesus’s mission to save them (307). 35. As is often noted, Matthew is the only evangelist to call Jerusalem ἅγιος πόλις, both before (4:5) and after (24:15 [regarding the temple]; 27:53) Jesus’s resurrection. For Matthew, Jerusalem remains the city of the great king (5:35) that reflects the holiness of God’s cosmic throne and temple (5:34). See Ezek 40–47; m. Kelim 1:6–8: “There are ten [degrees of] holiness(es): The land of Israel is holier than all lands.… The cities surrounded by a wall are more holy than it [the land].… The wall [of Jerusalem] is more holy than they.… The Temple mount is more holy than it.”



Matthew and the Temple 87

connects the death of Jesus with the cessation of the cult, as the temple’s veil is torn from top to bottom. Matthew’s View of the Temple Matthew’s View of the Temple in Recent Scholarship The contribution of recent scholarship related to Matthew’s view of the temple has advanced the discussion and provided a strong case for Matthew’s positive view of the temple.36 Daniel Gurtner, while noting the centrality of the temple to torah and the Sabbath, that is, first-century Judaism, acknowledges the difficulty of obtaining a lucid understanding of Matthew’s view of the temple due to the paucity of Matthean passages that speak directly about the temple, and Matthew’s seemingly contradictory views related to the temple.37 The tensions Gurtner lists may be illustrated as follows.38

36. See esp. Daniel M. Gurtner, The Torn Veil: Matthew’s Exposition of the Death of Jesus, SNTSMS 139 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007); Gurtner, “Matthew’s Theology of the Temple”; Gurtner and Perrin, “Temple,” 939–47; Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation; Anders Runesson, “City of God or Home of Traitors and Killers? Jerusalem according to Matthew,” in The Urban World and the First Christians, ed. Steve Walton, Paul R. Treblico, and David W. J. Gill (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2017), 219–35; Runesson, “Re-thinking Early Jewish-Christian Relations”; Cohen, Matthew and the Mishnah, esp. 223–316, 504–16. For positive views of the temple and its cult in ancient Judaism, see Jonathan Klawans, Purity, Sacrifice, and the Temple: Symbolism and Supersessionsim in the Study of Ancient Judaism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006). 37. Gurtner, “Matthew’s Theology of the Temple,” 128–29 and n. 3 for his reference to Richard J. Bauckham, “Parting of the Ways: What Happened and Why,” ST 47 (1993): 141. “Torah” is the basis of Sabbath observance but also includes a much wider set of core symbols and the central Jewish boundary markers, e.g., the Levitical food laws, circumcision for males, the observance of the three pilgrimage festivals (Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkot) and the Day of Atonement, purity laws, etc. See James D. G. Dunn, The Parting of the Ways: Between Christianity and Judaism and Their Significance for the Character of Christianity (London: SCM, 1991), who locates four common pillars of Second Temple Judaism: monotheism, election and land, torah, and temple. Martin Goodman, “Diaspora Reactions to the Destruction of the Temple,” in Horbury, Templum Amicitiae, 27–38, notes that Josephus’s summary of the Law in Contra Apionem (2.193–198) lists the temple cult as the first item in his list of the essentials of the Jewish religion.

88

Akiva Cohen

Table 3.1. Matthew’s Ambivalent Attitude toward the Temple? Negative Statements

Positive Statements

A den of robbers in need of cleansing (21:12, 13b)

A place of prayer (21:13a)

Destined for eschatological defilement (24:5)39 To be left desolate (23:38) Destined for destruction (24:2; 26:61)

Affirmed by Jesus’s healing in the temple (21:14)

Jesus superior to the temple (12:6)40

Affirmed by Jesus’s teaching in its courts (21:23; 26:55)

Replaced by Jesus41

Affirmed by Jesus’s instruction to participate in its sacrificial offerings (5:23–24; 8:4)42

Gurtner notes that scholars sometimes conclude from Matthew’s putative “anti-Jewish polemic” an “anti-temple polemic,” when in actuality Matthew maintains a “remarkably consistent and positive portrayal of the temple.”43 Matthew seems to avoid Mark’s antitemple Tendenz and targets the temple leadership—not the institution or cult itself—for its imminent destruction.44 38. Gurtner, “Matthew’s Theology of the Temple,”129–30. I have added Matt 24:15 and 26:61 to Gurtner’s list. 39. See Jostein Ådna, “Temple Act,” DJG2, 942: “Among the signs of the end of the Age (Mt 24) is [the] ‘desolating sacrilege standing in the holy place’ (Mt 24:15). The citation is taken from Daniel (Dan 9:27; 11:31; 12:11), by which Matthew seems to identify the defilement of the temple with God’s judgment on rebellious Israel.” 40. See n. 79 below for an alternative interpretation of this verse. 41. See Gurtner, “Matthew’s Theology of the Temple,” 129 n. 5, for a list of scholars who make this argument based on their reading of Matthew. 42. See Gurtner, “Matthew’s Theology of the Temple,” 133, where Gurtner follows Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:518, who note that for Matthew participation in the sacrificial system is presupposed. 43. Gurtner, “Matthew’s Theology of the Temple,” 130. 44. Gurtner, “Matthew’s Theology of the Temple,” 130. See Gurtner, “Matthew’s Theology of the Temple,” 140, for Gurtner’s insight that Matthew’s redaction (21:21–



Matthew and the Temple 89

The Canonical Context of Matthew In the canonical order of the Hebrew Bible, 2 Chronicles closes the canon.45 In its final verses the Edict of Cyrus, the Persian king—whom Isaiah calls God’s ‫( משיחו‬his anointed; Isa 45:1)—directs the Jewish exiles to return to Jerusalem to (re)build the temple. The last word of this narrative section, and hence of the Hebrew Bible, is ‫ויעל‬, “let him go up,” a verb without a subject. The referent of the verb in the context is any of the Jewish exiles individually, and thus corporately, who would heed God’s call through Cyrus to return to Jerusalem and begin the rebuilding of the temple. This last word of the Tanak should also be read, according to Old Testament scholar John Sailhamer, in its literary-canonical context. The last word of the Hebrew Bible is thus seen, by Sailhamer, to connect both Testaments: From a literary perspective, there is no intertestamental gap between the Testaments. The last word in the Hebrew Bible can also be understood as the first word in the NT. It is a verb without a subject (‫וְ יָ ַעל‬, 2 Chr 36:23, “let him go up”). Its subject could very well be taken from the first chapter of Matthew in the NT. It is a call for the coming of that one “whose God is with him,” and who is to build the Temple in Jerusalem. In Chronicles (and the post-exilic prophets) this one is the messianic (priestly) son of David.46

Sailhamer’s creative proposal views the theological-literary stich between both Testaments as the connecting link of the canonical story: Jesus is the one whom the Hebrew canon points to, and for the New Testament, part 2 continues the story that began with “In the beginning.”47 In this reading the Gospel of Matthew is read as a midrashic fulfillment to the promise of

22) of Mark’s version of the cursing of the fig tree focuses on the power of Jesus and resulting faith, rather than on an association with the temple itself. 45. In the Hebrew Bible, 1 and 2 Chronicles are one book. Our English Bible translations follow the order of the LXX and end with the prophet Malachi. 46. John Sailhamer, “The Messiah and the Hebrew Bible,” JETS 44 (2001): 14, emphasis added. 47. Within the New Testament canon, we can think of the way that the book of Acts continues the story of Jesus in Luke’s Gospel, or, in a more integrative and comprehensive way, how the book of Revelation brings together the many lines of literarytheological threads from both Testaments and weaves them into the final chapter of the meta-story that begins in a garden and ends in a city.

90

Akiva Cohen

a rebuilt temple by a Davidic Messiah. Matthew in fact makes this connection during Jesus’s trial. Davidic Christology and Temple At Jesus’s trial before the Sanhedrin, Matthew (26:57–68) depicts the claim by two witnesses that Jesus had said, δύναμαι καταλῦσαι τὸν ναὸν τοῦ θεοῦ καὶ διὰ τριῶν ἡμερῶν οἰκοδομῆσαι (v. 61).48 Jesus’s silence at his trial seems to allude to Isa 53:7.49 When the high priest adjures Jesus under oath (Matt 26:62), Davies and Allison appropriately ask, “What explains the transition from the temple saying to Christology?”50 Their answer is that the text assumes familiarity with Zech 6:12, ‫ואמרת אליו לאמר כה אמר יהוה צבאות‬ ‫לאמר הנה־אישׁ צמח שמו ומתחתיו יצמח ובנה את־היכל יהוה‬, “Say to him: Thus says the Lord of hosts: Here is a man whose name is Branch: for he shall branch out in his place, and he shall build the temple of the Lord.” In addition, Matthew’s use of the title “Son of God” for Jesus is messianic (see, e.g., 4Q426, which, along with 2 Sam 7:13–14, depicts a Davidic Messiah).51 The Matthean Jesus is thus presented as God’s son, who will build a house for God.52 Ἐκκλησία and Temple Since the establishment of the temple in Jerusalem was meant to link Israel and the nations to God and his holy presence53—through sacrifices, offerings, pilgrimage, and communal prayer—the question naturally arises concerning its relationship to the founding of Jesus’s community. Before 48. “I am able to destroy the temple of God and to build it in three days.” Davies and Allision, Matthew, 3:525–26, note that Matthew’s redaction may reflect his softening of Mark’s ἐγὼ καταλύσω (“I will destroy”) to δύναμαι καταλῦσαι (“I am able to destroy”) in keeping with his more temple-positive perspective. Their “best guess,” however, leads them to conclude that Matthew’s redaction reflects his desire to enhance Jesus’s “messianic majesty.” 49. Davies and Allision, Matthew, 3:527. 50. Davies and Allision, Matthew, 3:528. 51. Davies and Allision, Matthew, 3:528 and n. 50 for references. 52. Davies and Allision, Matthew, 3:528. 53. The symbolic power of the temple’s mountain locus “replicates the heavenly mountain of Yahweh (see Ps 48:1–4) and also its earlier manifestation at Sinai,” as noted by Carol Meyers, “Temple, Jerusalem,” ABD 6:360.



Matthew and the Temple 91

we discuss the relationship between the ἐκκλησία and the temple, however, it is first necessary to briefly discuss the problematic nature of most English translations of ἐκκλησία as “church.” This issue has been helpfully discussed in an important article by Runesson, in which he makes a cogent and impassioned plea for a reevaluation of our English Bible translations that reflect our colonial and cultural distortions of Paul’s (and, mutatis mutandis, Matthew’s) social world.54 Runesson’s distinctions of the various meanings of ἐκκλησία in the first century may be illustrated by the following diagram.55 A Jewish Messianic Association Synagogue: Matt 16:18; 18:17; cf. Jas 2:2; 5:14 A Jewish Public Institution (Synagogue) or a Jewish Voluntary Association Synagogue A Greek or Roman Institution

It is immediately apparent that our modern understanding of the word church, meaning a group of “Christians” who meet in a specific building for worship, has no conceptual traction in Matthew’s cultural horizon.56 In 54. Anders Runesson, “The Question of Terminology: The Architecture of Contemporary Discussion on Paul,” in Paul within Judaism: Restoring the First-Century Context to the Apostle, ed. Mark D. Nanos and Magnus Zetterholm (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015), 53–77; see also Paula Fredrickson, “Mandatory Retirement: Ideas in the Study of Christian Origins Whose Time Has Come to Go,” SR 35 (2006): 231–46, cited in Runesson, “Question of Terminology,” n. 1. 55. See also Runesson, “Re-thinking Early Jewish-Christian Relations,” 116, for his diagram of the potential interaction between association synagogues, public synagogues, and the Jerusalem temple. 56. Furthermore, the handful of known Second Temple synagogues were not essentially religious institutions; they served community needs and were used for

92

Akiva Cohen

Matt 16:18 Jesus promises Peter that he will build his ἐκκλησία (assembly, congregation) upon “this rock,” κἀγὼ δέ σοι λέγω ὅτι σὺ εἶ Πέτρος, καὶ ἐπὶ ταύτῃ τῇ πέτρᾳ οἰκοδομήσω μου τὴν ἐκκλησίαν.57 Davies and Allison suggest a possible connection between this pericope’s (16:13–20) major themes and God’s promise to David, which evokes the temple (2 Sam 7:13), “He public reading of Scripture on Shabbat. In the diaspora public prayer and the sanctity of its structures distinguished it from its Judean counterparts. See Lee I. Levine, The Ancient Synagogue: The First Thousand Years, 2nd ed. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005); Anders Runesson, The Origins of the Synagogue: A Socio-historical Study, ConBNT 37 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2001). The Matthean assembly’s ritual participation in a memorial common meal as part of their worship of Jesus (Matt 26:26–29) is part of the distinctive trajectory that developed beyond Jewish Jesus-followers to non-Jewish Jesus assemblies and their expressions of community worship. See Runesson, “City of God,” for his view of the ἐκκλησία as God’s portable vehicle for God’s presence, detached from Jerusalem. For the virtual portable temple of the Mishnah, see Cohen, Matthew and the Mishnah. See also John K. Riches, Conflicting Mythologies: Identity Formation in the Gospels of Mark and Matthew, SNTW (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2000), 258, “The ‘sacred sites’ of Christianity are a cross at the place of a skull and a tomb.… Matthew’s narrative does not define sacred space in a clear-cut way, but rather suggests images and metaphors” (emphasis original). On “Christians,” see Runesson, “Question of Terminology,” 59. “The term christianismos does not occur in the New Testament [as opposed to the word Ioudiasmos]; Paul [or Matthew!] offers no evidence that he had ever heard of ‘Christianity.’ Christianos occurs only three times, of which two are found in Acts (11:26; 26:28) and one in 1 Peter (4:16), both texts post-dating Paul” (“Question of Terminology,” 59 n. 10). 57. “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.” Donald Hagner helpfully notes: “underlying the Greek word ἐκκλησία, ‘church,’ is an Aramaic word spoken by Jesus meaning ‘community’ (‫ = ֵע ָדה ָ;ק ָהל‬συναγωγή, ‘synagogue,’ in LXX; or possibly ‫ישׁ ָתּא‬ ְ ִ‫”)כּנ‬ ְ (Hagner, Matthew, 2:471). Hagner adds, “[It] is the messianic community of the Messiah.” His further comment that “naturally Matthew and his readers understood by ἐκκλησία the church, and they did so justifiably,” illustrates how much semantic baggage the word church imports into the denotative and connotative meanings of the English word. Community is a more helpful translation; see Martin Luther’s translation of ἐκκλησία in this logion as Gemeinde. The only two instances of ἐκκλησία in the Gospels both appear in Matthew (16:18, universal community; 18:17, local community). On “this rock,” see the discussion and range of historical interpretations of πέτρᾳ and the puzzling switch of gender from Πέτρος to πέτρᾳ, in Davies and Allison, Matthew, 2:623–29. Matthew 16:18 is the locus classicus of papal authority for the Roman Catholic Church. See Karl Ludwig Schmidt, “ἐκκλησία,” TDNT 3:526. Konradt, Israel, Church and the Gentiles, 347, notes the significance of the future tense of the verb οἰκοδομήσω, which “points ahead to the time after Jesus’ resurrection.”



Matthew and the Temple 93

shall build a house for my name” (‫)הוא יבנה־בית לשמי‬.58 Furthermore, they note the possibility of a connection with the mythic Jewish tradition of the ‫אבן השתייה‬,59 a Tannaitic term for the foundation stone of the temple. This possible allusion draws from Israel’s mythic past and applies it to the coming transformation of Israel’s symbolic center from the temple to the community of Jesus.60 In Matt 18:20 Jesus promises, οὗ γάρ εἰσιν δύο ἢ τρεῖς συνηγμένοι εἰς τὸ ἐμὸν ὄνομα, ἐκεῖ εἰμι ἐν μέσῳ αὐτῶν.61 The immediate prayer-context of this logion (v. 19) increases its symbolic force. Now it is the community gathered (συνηγμένοι) in the name (authority) of Jesus that will become the locus of God’s presence. Standing behind Matthew’s ἐκκλησία is the line from the LXX to the New Testament based on its usual translation of the Hebrew word ‫קהל‬.62 Although the Greek word was normally used in classical Greek for the calling of a (secular) assembly, it became the preferred term for the gathering of Jesus’s followers.63 58. See Davies and Allison, Matthew, 2:603. 59. The word ‫ שתיה‬derives from the rabbinic myth that on this foundation stone the temple and the cosmos is ‫( הושתת‬established). See the discussion in Davies and Allison, Matthew, 2:626, 3:184–86. 60. Some scholars have seen a veiled reference to the Matthean community as “a new temple,” e.g., in 21:42—“Jesus said to them, ‘Have you never read in the scriptures: “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing, and it is amazing in our eyes?” ’ ” The image, however, is that of a capstone, not a foundation stone (κεφαλὴν γωνίας, translating Ps 118:22, ‫)פנה‬. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:186, consider the possibility of “the church as a new temple” in this verse (although they acknowledge that the Syriac translation of Ps 118:22, and Symmachus confirm that a capstone is the meaning). 61. “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” 62. ‫קהל‬, or as also suggested by Schmidt, TDNT 3:524, the Aramaic ‫כנישתא‬. Davies and Allision, Matthew, 2:629, note, “In the LXX, from Deuteronomy on, ἐκκλησία is the equivalent of qahal.” 63. See the comment by Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 335, “The usage of ‫ק ָהל‬/ἐκκλησία—or, ָ more precisely, ‫ק ָהל ֶאל‬/ἐκκλησίᾳ ָ τοῦ θεοῦ—as self-designation, which apparently occurred already in early Judean communities of believers in Christ (see 1 Cor 15.9; Gal 1.13; 1 Thess 2.14), by no means necessarily reflects a self-understanding as a new, eschatological Israel.” See Ralph J. Korner, The Origin and Meaning of Ekklesia in the Early Jesus Movement, AJEC 98 (Leiden: Brill, 2017). Korner suggests elsewhere that Paul’s use of ἐκκλησία solved his problem of providing a collective identity for non-Jews without using Israel and yet still indicated that non-Jews had now become part of the ‫ קהל‬without becoming part of the ethnic ‫עם‬. See Korner, “Ekklēsia as a Jewish Synagogue Term: A Response to Erich Gruen,” JJMS 4 (2017): 127–28. See

94

Akiva Cohen

The postexilic promise of the restoration of the temple and God’s shekinah largely met with disappointment among the returned exiles, who held onto various eschatological scenarios in the hope of an eventual fulfillment.64 Some of the oracles of promise that would have sustained such hope, as noted earlier, are Joel 2:27, “You shall know that I am in the midst of Israel, and that I, the Lord, am your God and there is no other” (‫וידעתם‬ ‫)כי בקרב ישראל אני ואני יהוה אלהיכם ואין עוד‬, and Zech 2:10b–11a–b, “For lo, I will come and dwell in your midst, says the Lord. Many nations shall join themselves to the Lord on that day, and shall be my people; and I will dwell in your midst” (‫כי הנני־בא ושכנתי בתוכך נאם־יהוה׃ ונלוו גוים רבים אל־‬ ‫)יהוה ביום ההוא והיו לי לעם ושכנתי בתוכך‬. According to Matthew, God has fulfilled these postexilic promises, yet in a completely unanticipated way through the person of Jesus and the congregations of his followers, who now include those from the nations.65

also BAGD, s.v. “ἐκκλησία”: it “became popular among Christians in Greek-speaking areas … to affirm continuity with Israel through use of a term found in Gk. Translations of the Hebrew Scriptures, and to allay any suspicion, esp. in political circles, that Christians were a disorderly group.” The use of ἐκκλησία for the calling of a (secular) assembly is attested by its use in Acts 19:32. Schmidt notes that there is a religious undertone for the classical period, seen in the prayers offered by the κῆρυξ before his address in the assembly (TDNT 3:514). 64. That the returned exiles groaned under the yoke of Persian, Greek, and then Roman (i.e., pagan) domination, and that they prayed and yearned for the fulfillment and glory of the prophetic promises, is a given; that they saw themselves as still living in exile is less obvious and moot point in New Testament scholarship. See Nicholas G. Piotrowski, Matthew’s New David at the End of Exile: A Socio-rhetorical Study of Scriptural Quotations, NovTSup 170 (Leiden: Brill, 2016). While his “end of exile” reading, and his understanding of Matthew’s identification of Israel, are not without problems, his focus on the role of Matthew’s seven prologue quotations warrants much discussion. 65. Although this is only made explicit in the gospel’s conclusion (28:18–20), the gospel is full of proleptic hints that non-Jews, as representatives of the nations, will be included in the community of Israel’s God. E.g., the four gentile women in Jesus’s genealogy (1:3–6); the wise men from the East who come to worship the king of the Jews (2:1); John the Baptist’s logion that God can raise up children for Abraham from stones (3:9); the locus of Jesus’s Galilean ministry as “Galilee of the Gentiles” (4:15); Jesus’s disciples as “the light of the world,” i.e., not only of Israel (5:14); Jesus’s healing of the centurion’s servant (8:5–13); Jesus’s healing of the Canaanite woman’s daughter (15:21–28); the gospel preached to all nations (24:14).



Matthew and the Temple 95

The Fate of Israel, the Temple’s Destruction, and the Authority of Jesus Matthew devotes the entirety of chapter 23 to Jesus’s sweeping denunciation of the scribes and Pharisees, which climaxes with his prophetic warning that their house will be left ἔρημος (“desolate”) and that his presence will be hidden from Israel until its national confession of his Messianic identity: ἰδοὺ ἀφίεται ὑμῖν ὁ οἶκος ὑμῶν ἔρημος. λέγω γὰρ ὑμῖν, οὐ μή με ἴδητε ἀπ᾿ ἄρτι ἕως ἂν εἴπητε· εὐλογημένος ὁ ἐρχόμενος ἐν ὀνόματι κυρίου (“See, your house is left to you, desolate. For I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord,’ ” 23:38–39). Mark Goodacre has noted the similarity between Jesus’s prophecy in the Synoptics with that of Jesus ben Ananias in Josephus’s Bellum judaicum, that is, that the two of them share the same threefold focus: the city, the temple, and the people.66 Table 3.2. Contemporary Prophecies of the Temple’s Destruction Matthew 23:37–39

Bellum judaicum 6.300–301

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem”

“A voice against Jerusalem”

“Behold, your house is forsaken”

“the holy house”

“how often would I have

“ a voice against this whole people”

gathered your children” “Behold, your house is forsaken and desolate”

“We are departing from hence”

The literary framework and climax of both Matthew’s and Josephus’s narrative centers on the temple and its destruction. Matthew adopts Mark’s literary structure, which frames the story of Jesus within the mounting conflict and climax of the city’s and the temple’s destruction. Jesus’s prophetic utterance concerning the temple’s destruction, οὐ μὴ ἀφεθῇ ὧδε λίθος ἐπὶ λίθον ὃς οὐ καταλυθήσεται (Matt 24:2b), his prophetic temple

66. The table above is from Mark Goodacre, Thomas and the Gospels: The Case for Thomas’s Familiarity with the Synoptics (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012), 167.

96

Akiva Cohen

act (21:12–18),67 and the rending of the temple’s veil (27:51a) all function in Matthew’s narrative to highlight the authority of Jesus. As Goodacre observes, “It is like reading Jeremiah. It works because the reader knows that the prophecies of doom turned out to be correct. It is about when prophecy succeeds.”68 The temple’s destruction takes place as the culmination of its defilement when God removes his presence from its precincts.69 Jesus’s death and resurrection, conjoined by the tearing of the temple’s veil, signals the apex of Matthew’s narrative theology (Matt 27:50–51).70 Gurtner has cogently argued that in Matthew the velum scissum is not 67. Matthew 24:2b: “Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” Matthew 21:12–18 records the temple cleansing as a prophetic act along with his prophetic cursing of the fig tree. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:148, compare Jesus’s act of cursing the fig tree to a Johannine σημεῖον and also an “enacted parable.” I have not included 21:20–22, which serves in the narrative as a teaching on faith and prayer. Luz, Matthew, 3:24, seems to agree, “From a literary perspective, however, vv. 20–22 do not fit well in their present context.” 68. Goodacre, Thomas and the Gospels, 165, emphasis original. Goodacre also notes that the irony of the narrative works because the readers/hearers of the text already know that the temple has been destroyed. 69. See Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 126–27, for his insightful comments that highlight Matthew’s depiction of Jesus’s prophecy of the temple’s destruction (23:38; 24:1–2) followed by his exit to the Mount of Olives (24:3), recalling the same pattern of God’s departing the temple in Ezek 10–11. “And the glory of the Lord ascended from the middle of the city, and stopped on the mountain east of the city” (Ezek 11:23). 70. For the redemptive nature of Jesus’s death for Israel in Matthew, see esp. Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 207–339. Gurtner writes, “The destruction of the temple is a consequence of the sins of especially the Pharisees and the scribes associated with them, which have polluted the temple, and this necessitates Jesus’s sacrifice on behalf of his people” (112 n. 190). See also Gurtner, Torn Veil, esp. 126–37; David L. Turner, Israel’s Last Prophet: Jesus and the Jewish Leaders in Matthew 23 (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015), 253–66, for his discussion of the “blood libel” pericope in Matt 27:11–26; Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 139–66, for Konradt’s discussion of Matthew’s passion narrative. On this as the apex of Matthew’s narrative theology, see Gurtner, Torn Veil, esp. 97–202; Cohen, Matthew and the Mishnah, 503–16. “Matthew understands the death of Jesus as the beginning of the παλιγγενεσία, the Messianic age, the new genesis, viz. God’s renewal of Israel and all things (see 19:28). The symbolism of Jesus’ death is heralded by the tearing of the temple’s veil and Israel’s proleptic resurrection that will ultimately impact all Nations (28:18–20; see 22:30–32)” (Cohen, Matthew and the Mishnah, 508). See the chapter in this volume by Lidija Novakovic on the significance of the proleptic resurrection of the saints for Jesus’s resurrection.



Matthew and the Temple 97

associated with the temple’s destruction.71 Furthermore, the velum scissum and the death and resurrection of Jesus do not entail God’s revocation of his covenant with Israel,72 but rather point to the firstfruits of eschatological fulfillment, in which the way is opened for the nations to join Israel in its worship of the true God.73 David Turner offers the following insightful commentary on Matt 23, comparing it to the depiction in 2 Chronicles of both the destruction and the hope of restoration: In Matthew, the disasters associated with the Roman desolation of the second temple can still be mitigated if Israel will bless the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Matthew 23 is best understood when it is connected with 2 Chron. 36:15–17 and 2 Macc. 6:12–17. All three texts (and many others) affirm a common Weltanschauung in which the history of God’s covenantal relationship with Israel repeatedly play out the pattern of sin, discipline, confession, and restoration.74

The Transformation of the Matthean Temple For Matthew the arrival of the kingdom in the person of Jesus and the temple’s destruction meant that the latter had fulfilled its role. Matthew provides a glimpse of this vision in his redaction of Mark 11:17, where he cites Isa 56:7.75 After Jesus’s prophetic action of driving out those buying and selling in the temple’s courts (21:12), he utters the following logion in 71. Gurtner, Torn Veil, 9–11. He, marshals evidence for associating the velum scissum with the inner veil (‫ )פרכת‬of the temple (47–71, 199). 72. My reading of Matthew sees a continuity in God’s ongoing covenantal relationship with Israel; see Cohen, Matthew and the Mishnah, esp. ch. 5, “Locating the Mattheans within Their Late First-Century Context.” For some of the more important recent monographs on Matthew written from a postsupersessionist perspective, in addition to Runesson’s Divine Wrath and Salvation, esp., 41–339, see Turner, Israel’s Last Prophet; Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, esp. 327–53. 73. Among reams of prophetic passages, some salient examples from Isaiah are Isa 2; 11:10; 42:1, 6; 49:6; 55:5; 60; 66. 74. Turner, Israel’s Last Prophet, 371. “Some take 23:39 as stressing only the certainty of judgment, but the image of a hen gathering her chicks (23:37) speaks of compassion, not rejection” (327). See also Stanton, Gospel for a New People, 247–55, for a discussion of the sin–exile–return pattern in 23:39. 75. Mark 11:17: καὶ ἐδίδασκεν καὶ ἔλεγεν αὐτοῖς· οὐ γέγραπται ὅτι ὁ οἶκός μου οἶκος προσευχῆς κληθήσεται πᾶσιν τοῖς ἔθνεσιν; ὑμεῖς δὲ πεποιήκατε αὐτὸν σπήλαιον λῃστῶν. “He was teaching and saying, ‘Is it not written, “My house shall be called a house of

98

Akiva Cohen

verse 13: καὶ λέγει αὐτοῖς· γέγραπται· ὁ οἶκός μου οἶκος προσευχῆς κληθήσεται, ὑμεῖς δὲ αὐτὸν ποιεῖτε σπήλαιον λῃστῶν (“He said to them, ‘It is written, “My house shall be called a house of prayer”; but you are making it a den of robbers’ ”). Matthew’s redaction of his Markan source conspicuously omits the phrase πᾶσιν τοῖς ἔθνεσιν (“for all nations”) from Mark’s citation of the Isaian passage (Isa 56:7). For the Matthean community, the presence of God for Israel, and now for all peoples, was mediated through the person and presence of Jesus and the congregation of his people.76 Thus, the temple’s destruction was not something to be continually mourned, but rather, from the ashes of Israel’s suffering, she would arise to enjoy the presence of God through Jesus together with πάντα τὰ ἔθνη. Jesus’s “temple act,”77 often referred to as his temple cleansing (21:12– 13), is followed by his act of healing the blind and the lame in the temple. Since, in Matthew, Jesus is the Son of David, there may be an intertextual allusion here, as noted by Davies and Allison, that echoes David and his troops capturing Jerusalem when the Jebusites taunted him by saying, “even the blind and the lame will drive you away” (2 Sam 5:6). Another possible allusion is the injunction in Leviticus, “For no one who has a blemish shall draw near [to make an offering to God], [nor] one who is blind or lame” (Lev 21:18a).78 Matthew has already narrated Jesus’s claim that “something greater than” the temple,79 Jonah, and Solomon was connected to his person in Israel’s midst (Matt 12:6, 41, 42). By healing the blind and the lame within the courts of the temple, Jesus’s healing action continues Matthew’s anticipation of the transformation of Israel’s cultic center from the temple to Jesus, while maintaining the ongoing importance of national Israel’s covenantal status, and the ongoing importance of the land of Israel, and Jerusalem.80 prayer for all the nations”? But you have made it a den of robbers’ ” (emphasis added). Isa 56:7c: ‫כי ביתי בית־תפלה יקרא לכל־העמים‬. 76. “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” See Beda Rigaux, The Testimony of St. Matthew, trans. Paul J. Oligny (Chicago: Franciscan Herald, 1968), 7. 77. See Ådna, “Temple Act,” 947–52. 78. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:140. 79. My own view follows Ulrich Luz, Matthew 8–20, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001), 181–83: if sacrifice overrides the Sabbath, how much more does mercy override it for those who are suffering? Jesus’s Pharisaic opponents should have been merciful to his disciples. See discussion in Cohen, Matthew and the Mishnah, 238–43. 80. On national Israel, see Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 307–17:



Matthew and the Temple 99

Summary In sum, we have seen the way that one’s preunderstanding affects one’s understanding of a given text. Modern commentators of Matthew’s Gospel may be located on a continuum of those who argue for Matthew’s negative attitude toward the temple and those who argue for its opposite. We have also seen both the differences and similarities between Matthew and nearcontemporary Jewish texts related to the temple. An example of an ancient commentator on Matthew’s negative view of the temple is illustrated by the comments of Epiphanius, the late fourth-century CE bishop of Salamis, Cyprus.81 Epiphanius knew of a Jewish gospel that may well have stood in a significant relationship to Matthew’s Gospel, in which Jesus says, “I have come to abolish sacrifices [see Matt 5:17–20; John 3:36b], and if you do not cease to sacrifice, wrath will not cease from you” (Pan. 30.16.5).82 On the opposite end of the axis is the view of Runesson, cited at the beginning of this chapter, that is, that “In this Gospel, then, con“While many scholars use the term to speak about Jesus’s opponents, or those who are condemned, that is not how Matthew employs the word.… Those [from Israel] who repent belong to the saved … that will, as Israel, enter the kingdom” (316–17). See also Joel Willitts, Matthew’s Messianic Shepherd-King: In Search of “the Lost Sheep of the House of Israel,” BZNW 147 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007); Willitts, “Zionism in the Gospel of Matthew: Do the People of Israel and the Land of Israel Persist as Abiding Concerns for Matthew?,” in The New Christian Zionism: Fresh Perspectives on Israel and the Land, ed. Gerald R. McDermott (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2016), 107–40. On Jerusalem, see now Mark S. Kinzer, Jerusalem Crucified, Jerusalem Risen: The Resurrected Messiah, the Jewish People, and the Land of Promise (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2018). Kinzer takes up the centrality of these themes with a focus on Luke-Acts. 81. Epiphanius refers to a Jewish gospel, which was used by the Ebionites and which he (incorrectly) identifies as Gospel of Hebrews; see NTApoc 1:166. There Wilhelm Schneemelcher posits that the gospel Epiphanius refers to “must have been an abridged and falsified Gospel of Matthew.” 82. NTApoc 1:170; also cited by Craig A. Evans, “The Jewish Christian Gospel Tradition,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries, ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2007), 241–77. See the Recognitions of the Pseudo-Clementine literature and the following comment by Annette Yoshiko Reed: “In his [the author of Recognitions] view this is the main reason that God sent the ‘true prophet’ Jesus: to abolish sacrifice and to preach, in its place, baptism for the remission of sins (see esp. R 1.39.1).” See Yoshiko Reed, “ ‘Jewish Christianity’ after the ‘Parting of the Ways’: Approaches to Historiography and Self-Definition in the Pseudo-Clementines,” in Becker and Yoshiko Reed, Ways That Never Parted, 209.

100

Akiva Cohen

trary to later Christian beliefs, Jesus is the solution to the destruction of the temple, not its cause.”83 What we can perhaps say, as a middle-ground view, is that Matthew’s view of the temple was a positive one, he affirmed it as the locus of God’s presence and also affirmed the ongoing validity of its cult during Jesus’s ministry. Matthew’s view of the temple’s destruction is more ambivalent and more controversial among Matthean scholars. Again, on one end of our axis some scholars claim that the destruction represents the loss of Israel’s covenantal status and Israel’s replacement by the church, and on the other end of the axis, its destruction is seen as part of the Deuteronomic motif of sin, exile, and return, the covenantal outworking of God’s salvific act on behalf of Israel (1:21) that will redound to the nations (28:19–20). Standing behind the ongoing debate about Matthew’s view of the temple is the Matthean Jesus, who, foreseeing the fate of Israel and the temple’s conflagration, longed to protect her as a mother hen willing to sacrifice herself in order to protect her chicks from a yard fire: “How often,”84 Jesus lamented, “have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings” (23:37b). Most Matthean scholars concur that the rejection of Jesus by Israel’s leaders resulted in the temple’s destruction (22:7),85 but fewer seem to acknowledge that Israel’s restoration is envisaged in Jesus’s promise that she will yet confess, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord” (23:39b), a psalm sung in the temple’s courts that continues with the words, “We bless you from the house of the Lord” (‫ברוך הבא בשם יהוה ברכנוכם מבית יהוה‬, Ps 118:26b).86

83. Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 332. 84. Dunn, commenting on Matt 23:37–39, notes that this logion “suggests more frequent visits to Jerusalem, and so presumably to the Temple, than the Synoptics mention” (Parting of the Ways, 37). This logion is poignantly depicted by N. T. Wright, The Challenge of Jesus: Rediscovering Who Jesus Was and Is (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2015), 86: “The picture is of a farmyard fire; the hen gathers her chicken under her wings, and when the fire has run its course, there will be found a dead hen scorched and blackened, but with live chicks under her wing.” 85. Runesson’s point that Jesus is God’s solution to the destruction is a crucial observation that needs to be factored in to Matthew’s overarching narrative theology (Divine Wrath and Salvation, 332). 86. Matthew quotes the first part of the LXX verse verbatim, εὐλογημένος ὁ ἐρχόμενος ἐν ὀνόματι κυρίου· εὐλογήκαμεν ὑμᾶς ἐξ οἴκου κυρίου. (Ps 117:26).

Part 2 Ethnicity

Aspects of Matthean Universalism: Ethnic Identity as a Theological Tool in the First Gospel Anders Runesson

1. Introduction Matthean scholars have debated the ethnic identity of the author(s) of the Gospel of Matthew,1 as well as of the text itself, for decades. Traditionally, the gospel has been understood as “the Jewish gospel,” meaning a gospel written for Jewish Christ-believers by a Jew who had “converted” to “Christianity.” The Jewish identity of the author and/or the gospel was, however, challenged in several studies published in the twentieth century, beginning with Kenneth Clark’s well-known and often-referred-to article “The Gentile Bias in Matthew,” published in 1947.2 Focusing on clues perceived Various versions of this paper were presented at the Annual Meeting of the Society of New Testament Studies in Perth, Australia, 2013; in a seminar at Uppsala University, Sweden, 2014; and in the Matthew Section at the Annual Meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature in San Antonio, United States, 2016. I am grateful for the insightful and constructive discussions offered by colleagues at each of these occasions. 1. Since in antiquity the identity of an ἔθνος was interconnected with what we call “religion” today, I will use the terms ethnic and religioethnic interchangeably. For discussion, see Steve Mason, “Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism: Problems of Categorization in Ancient History,” JSJ 38 (2007): 457–512. Ethnicity is understood here not in essentialist terms, but rather as referring to a form of social construction and discourses orbiting claims relating to ancestry, heritage, and collective identity. 2. Kenneth W. Clark, “The Gentile Bias in Matthew,” JBL 66 (1947): 165–72. The influence of this article is seen in various forms in many later studies, including widely read encyclopedia articles such as John P. Meier’s entry “Matthew, Gospel of,” ABD 4:622–41; see the similar understanding of the gospel in Michael Joseph Brown, “Matthew, Gospel of,” NIDB 3:839–52. For a different understanding, see Anders Runes-

-103-

104

Anders Runesson

to indicate the non-Jewish, even anti-Jewish nature of Matthew, these scholars have claimed that the gospel was authored in a setting outside the synagogue, or outside Judaism, that is, it was written from a so-called extra muros perspective.3 Other scholars, such as Alan Segal, have contested extra muros conclusions, arguing that if Judaism was diverse in the first century, we cannot say that “Judaism uniformly dismissed Matthean Christians from their midst.”4 Such intra muros approaches have attracted many supporters, among whom we find, for example, Andrew Overman, Anthony Saldarini, and David Sim.5 It is in this larger interpretive conson, “Matthew, Gospel according to,” in The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Books of the Bible, ed. Michael D. Coogan (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 2:59–78. 3. Scholars taking this general approach include, e.g., Samuel Sandmel, A Jewish Understanding of the New Testament (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 1956); Poul Nepper-Christensen, Das Matthäusevangelium: Ein judenchristliches Evangelium?, ATDan 1 (Aarhus: Universitetsforlaget, 1958); Georg Strecker, Der Weg der Gerechtigkeit: Untersuchung zur Theologie des Matthäus, 3rd ed., FRLANT 82 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1971); Sjef van Tilborg, The Jewish Leaders in Matthew (Leiden: Brill, 1972); David Flusser, “Two Anti-Jewish Montages in Matthew,” Imm 5 (1975): 37–45; John P. Meier, The Vision of Matthew: Christ, Church, and Morality in the First Gospel (New York: Paulist, 1979); Michael J. Cook, “Interpreting ‘ProJewish’ Passages in Matthew,” HUCA 54 (1983): 135–46; Petri Luomanen, Entering the Kingdom of Heaven: A Study on the Structure of Matthew’s View of Salvation, WUNT 2/101 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1998); Graham Stanton, “5 Ezra and Matthean Christianity in the Second Century,” JTS 28 (1977): 67–83; Stanton, A Gospel for a New People: Studies in Matthew (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1992). For further bibliography, see Anders Runesson, “Re-thinking Early Jewish-Christian Relations: Matthean Community History as Pharisaic Intra-group Conflict,” JBL 127 (2008): 97 n. 4. 4. Alan Segal, “Matthew’s Jewish Voice,” in Social History of the Matthean Community: Cross-Disciplinary Approaches, ed. David L. Balch (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991), 37. See Daniel M. Gurtner, “The Gospel of Matthew from Stanton to Present: A Survey of Some Recent Developments,” in Jesus, Matthew’s Gospel and Early Christianity: Studies in Memory of Graham N. Stanton, ed. Gurtner, Joel Willitts, and Richard A. Burridge, LNTS 435 (London: T&T Clark, 2011), 31. 5. J. Andrew Overman, Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism: The Social World of the Matthean Community (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990); Overman, Church and Community in Crisis: The Gospel according to Matthew, NTC (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1996); Anthony Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, CSHJ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994); David C. Sim, Apocalyptic Eschatology in the Gospel of Matthew, SNTSMS 88 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996); Sim, The Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism: The History and Social Setting of the Matthean Community, SNTW (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998). See also, e.g., Gerhard Barth, “Matthew’s Understanding of the Law,” in Tradition and Interpre-



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 105

text that we should understand the several major recent contributions to Matthean studies, one of the most thorough of which is Matthias Konradt’s Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew.6 This study offers a solid historical case for a nonsupersessionist reading of the First Gospel.7 Looking at the wider field of Matthean studies, the problem is, however, that it is not always clear exactly what researchers mean when they say that Matthew’s Gospel is either Jewish or not Jewish, or that it was authored intra muros or extra muros.8 There are several parameters that need to be considered. First, the term Christian is, arguably, anachronistic when used in a first-century setting and may mislead scholars to think in binary opposites about “Judaism” and “Christianity,” reflecting the situation in late antiquity—and today—rather than first-century realities.9 The same tation in Matthew, ed. Günther Bornkamm, Gerhard Barth, and Heinz Joachim Held (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1963), 58–164; W. D. Davies, The Setting of the Sermon on the Mount (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1964); Schuyler Brown, “The Matthean Community and the Gentile Mission,” NovT 22 (1980): 193–221. For an up-to-date history of scholarship on Matthew’s Gospel, see David C. Sim, “Matthew: The Current State of Research,” in Mark and Matthew I: Comparative Readings; Understanding the Earliest Gospels in Their First-Century Setting, ed. Eve-Marie Becker and Anders Runesson (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 33–51. 6. Matthias Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew, trans. Kathleen Ess, BMSEC 2 (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2014). Other recent monographs include David L. Turner, Israel’s Last Prophet: Jesus and the Jewish Leaders in Matthew 23 (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015); Matthias Konradt, Studien zum Matthäusevangelium, ed. Alida Euler, WUNT 358 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016); Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016); Akiva Cohen, Matthew and the Mishnah: Redefining Identity and Ethos in the Shadow of the Second Temple’s Destruction, WUNT 2/418 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016); Catherine S. Hamilton, The Death of Jesus in Matthew: Innocent Blood and the End of Exile, SNTMS 167 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017); Mothy Varkey, Salvation in Continuity: A Reconsideration of Matthean Soteriology (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2017); Seng Ja Layang, The Pharisees in Matthew 23 Reconsidered (Carlisle, UK: Langham, 2018). 7. On the term supersessionism and its use, see most recently Terence L. Donaldson, “Supersessionism and Early Christian Self-Definition,” JJMJS 3 (2016): 1–32. 8. For discussion, see, e.g., Wayne Baxter, Israel’s Only Shepherd: Matthew’s Shepherd Motif and His Social Setting, LNTS 457 (London: T&T Clark, 2012), 3–8. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 364–65, notes, appropriately, that the metaphor of muri is problematic and indeed inadequate. 9. The terminological issue is discussed in, e.g., John Gager, “Paul, the Apostle of Judaism,” in Jesus, Judaism, and Christian Anti-Judaism, ed. Paula Fredriksen and

106

Anders Runesson

goes for the term church, a term applied by Konradt, when used to identify the Matthean community.10 Second, as pointed out by Segal, we must avoid simplistic understandings of Judaism and Christianity as monolithic and clearly identifiable entities that can be said to either include or exclude each other. Just as Judaism was diverse, both before and after the fall of Jerusalem in 70 CE, belief in Jesus as the Messiah took different forms, both theologically and sociologically, among Jews and non-Jews alike. Thus, the interconnectedness of identities must be construed accordingly, that is, with various levels of correspondence and overlap. Third, we need to reflect on possible differences between the self-perception of a group, on the one hand, and how a group was perceived by outsiders, on the other hand. It may well be that some Christ believers thought of themselves as Jews and attacked other Jews, or non-Jews, “who say that they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan” (Rev 2:9).11 Fourth, we must distinguish between the nature of the text and the identity of the author. A Jewish author may have composed a text that appears to be non-Jewish, even anti-Jewish, and vice versa. The question about the ethnic identity of the author is, by necessity, more complex and must follow after an analysis of the nature of the text as a narrative whole rather than precede such investigations. As we discuss ethnic identity and Matthew’s Gospel, we need to first of all present an analysis of how this aspect of first-century identity functions in the text itself, how the world of the text is rhetorically and theologically configured based on ethnic parameters.12 This is the task I have chosen for the present paper. In the following, then, I would like to contribute to the discussion of ethnicity and Matthew by addressing the question of how religioethnic identity is used in the narrative world of the gospel and how it influences Adele Reinhartz (Louisville: John Knox, 2002), 56–76; Anders Runesson, “Inventing Christian Identity: Paul, Ignatius, and Theodosius I,” in Exploring Early Christian Identity, ed. Bengt Holmberg (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008), 59–92. 10. For recent discussion of this term, see Anders Runesson, “The Question of Terminology: The Architecture of Contemporary Discussions on Paul,” in Paul within Judaism: Restoring the First-Century Context to the Apostle, ed. Mark D. Nanos and Magnus Zetterholm (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015), 53–77. 11. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations are from the NRSV. 12. See Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, who favors a similar mode of procedure, in which the text and its theological themes take precedence over sociohistorical reconstruction; Konradt deals with the latter only briefly, in his seventh chapter (355–67).



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 107

Matthean theological notions about group belonging and salvation. This means that I will limit the discussion to the world of the text and only suggest, at the end, possible implications of our results for the religioethnic identity of those in whose midst the gospel was authored and used. The discussion will attempt to show that Matthew makes best first-century sense if read within a Jewish ethnoreligious interpretive frame, that is, the gospel should be defined simply as a Jewish text, not as a Christian, or Jewish-Christian, or non-/anti-Jewish narrative.13 In terms of the inception history of the text, there is, in my opinion, nothing in the text itself that may have caused either insiders or outsiders to view the gospel as anything other than a particular expression of Judaism, encouraging a lifestyle that was distinctly Jewish. We shall begin our discussion by drawing a map of Matthew’s use of ethnic and related terminology (section 2). Once we have an overview of the ethnic pattern of the text in place, we shall proceed to discuss possible understandings of how and why this construal of ethnicity affects the theology of the gospel (sections 3 and 4), before we conclude by noting some implications of our findings (section 5). 2. Mapping Matthew’s Narrative Use of Ethnic Identity The first and perhaps the most obvious feature one may note when reading Matthew’s Gospel is the relative absence of non-Jews in the narrative. The story is a story about the Jewish people and, more specifically, about a Jewish individual whom the narrator claims is their Messiah.14 The default position of the narrative, one might say, is Jewish. This does not mean that non-Jews are entirely absent. It does mean, though, that the main characters, both good and bad, are Jews and that, as non-Jews are brought into the story, their narrative function is more often than not to direct the 13. For extensive discussion, see Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation. Similar ethnoreligious claims have been made with regard to other texts included in the New Testament. For Paul’s letters, the most recent discussion is found in Nanos and Zetterholm, Paul within Judaism. For the book of Revelation see, e.g., John W. Marshall, Parables of War: Reading John’s Jewish Apocalypse (Waterloo: Wilfrid Laurie University Press, 2001); Marshall, “John’s Jewish (Christian?) Apocalypse,” in Jewish Christianity Reconsidered: Rethinking Ancient Groups and Texts, ed. Matt Jackson-McCabe (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), 233–56. 14. See Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 17–87, who also insists that the narrative is centered on Israel.

108

Anders Runesson

spotlight to issues of importance for the people of God, that is, the Jewish people, on whom they are dependent. Only rarely are non-Jews addressed in their own right. I would suggest that there are primarily three ways in which the gospel uses non-Jewish ethnic identity to convey key messages in the story. We shall discuss these under three subheadings dealing with group boundaries, shaming, and empire, respectively. 2.1. Ethnicity and Group Boundaries: Distinguishing In-Group from Out-Group Matthew uses (non-Jewish) ethnic identity negatively to distinguish between in-group and out-group. This is done in two ways: (1) through distinguishing, on a first level, between acceptable behavior in the in-group and the unacceptable behavior of the out-group, and (2) on a second level, to outline the institutional boundaries of the in-group. Regarding the first strategy, love of enemies, right prayer, and trust in God are explained and emphasized through explicit claims that nonJewish behavior is the very opposite of the will of God (Matt 5:47; 6:7, 32).15 We may note here that the in-group, to whom this is spoken, which we may call the primary in-group, is the Jewish people, not only the disciples, as we see from the reference to the Jewish “crowds” (οἱ ὄχλοι) in 5:1 and 7:28.16 The Matthean Jesus is addressing his people, instructing them on

15. On the reading of ἔθνη as non-Jews here, see Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 312 n. 255. I disagree with Konradt’s claim, however, that Matthew shows ambiguity with regard to the ethnic aspect, so that “the dividing line between Israel and the Gentiles loses its fundamental significance through the Christ event” (321). On the contrary, the theological and rhetorical logic of the narrative depends on precisely the upholding of this dividing line. We shall return to this below. 16. We may note that, while the disciples are listed as part of the audience of the Sermon on the Mount, only the crowds “were astounded at his teaching,” since his teaching had authority above and beyond that of their scribes, that is, their local village administrators, who read and taught torah in public synagogues on Sabbaths (7:28–29). On first-century synagogues and the Gospels see Anders Runesson, “The Historical Jesus, the Gospels, and First-Century Jewish Society: The Importance of the Synagogue for Understanding the New Testament,” in A City Set on a Hill: Essays in Honor of James F. Strange, ed. Daniel A. Warner and Donald D. Binder (Mountain Home, AR: BorderStone, 2015), 265–97. See also the recent and thorough discussion of the historical Jesus and the synagogue in Jordan J. Ryan, The Role of the Synagogue in the Aims of Jesus (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2017).



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 109

how they need to behave to prepare for the kingdom; they must avoid anything and everything that is related to non-Jewish behavior (cf. 18:17; see further below). This is further emphasized through relating “unrepentant Jews,” such as tax collectors and “hypocrites” (5:46; 6:2, 5) to non-Jewish behavior when the true meaning of the Mosaic law is explained. In other words, in order to fulfill the law (5:17–20, 48), preparing for God’s rule, the Jewish people must avoid acting like non-Jews and those Jews who behave like them (cf. 20:25–27). References to ethnic identity are thus used by Matthew to outline what proper behavior should be, according to Jewish law. Ethnicity and law are intertwined in Matthew’s worldview, and, as we shall discuss further below, both are referred to in order to distinguish the primary in-group from outsiders. The message is clear: Jews who break the law are like non-Jews, that is, outsiders, who will not inherit the kingdom. The existence within the primary in-group of what Matthew would perceive of as unrepentant Jews in his gospel, that is, Jews who do not follow torah as they ought to, such as tax collectors (5:46), “hypocrites” (6:2, 5, 16; 7:5; 15:7; 22:18; 23:13, 15, 23, 25, 27–29; 24:51), and Pharisees and the scribes associated with them (e.g., 5:20; 15:1–20; 23), as well as some of the priests and elders in Jerusalem associated with the temple (16:21; 21:23; 27:1, 20, 41–42; 28:12–13), leads the author to describe a center within the ethnically defined center.17 This inner center is not primarily defined ethnically (Jewish ethnicity is understood) but is based on attitudes displayed toward Jesus’s (and his disciples’) teaching, healings, and exorcisms. This struggle within the ethnically defined primary ingroup divides the Jewish people. Some Jews are presented as “those who break the law” (τοὺς ποιοῦντας τὴν ἀνομίαν), and their fate is condemnation in the final judgment (13:41–42).18 Others, such as the disciples, are portrayed as trusting, albeit often somewhat insufficiently (14:31; 17:17, 17. For a visual representation of the religioethnic dynamics of Matthew’s narrative, see Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 37, fig. 1.1. There is some overlap between “hypocrites” and Pharisees and their scribes, meaning that one of Matthew’s accusations against the latter is, more specifically, their alleged hypocrisy. On the priests and elders, see 15:1–2 and 21:45–46, where Matthew attempts to link the Pharisees on the one hand with the chief priest and the elders on the other hand, presenting them as being united against Jesus. 18. The Pharisees, specifically, are said to belong among the lawbreakers, who do not understand torah (see especially Matt 23:23–24) and who will not be able to achieve the level of righteousness demanded by the kingdom (5:20). This is the only group in Matthew about whose future the author is consistently negative. For a socio-

110

Anders Runesson

20), in Jesus’s teaching of the law and extraordinary deeds as signs of God’s power and the coming kingdom. It is this latter group that constitutes the secondary in-group, within the primary, ethnically defined in-group. The law is thus a guide, a key to the kingdom, for all ethnically defined Jews, including for those in the secondary in-group, as they, too, are identified as Jews.19 It is this secondary in-group whose institutional boundaries—the ἐκκλησία—are outlined in relation to, first, the non-Jew (ὁ ἐθνικὸς), that is, the out-group, and second, to tax collectors in the primary in-group (18:15–17). The institutional setting outlined in chapter 18, including the brief mention of a penal code that determines as a major offense the absence of forgiveness among members of the secondary in-group, is meant to accommodate all members of the primary in-group. However, the narrative reveals that the secondary (nonethnically defined) boundary is navigated best by nonleading groups in Jewish society, such as “the crowds,” the “lost sheep of the house of Israel,” tax collectors (9:9–13; 10:3; 11:19), “sinners” (9:10–13; 11:19),20 and prostitutes (21:31–32). We should note, though, that Matthew’s Gospel also includes some scribes, that is, local public synagogue administrators, among those who join the movement around Jesus (13:52; 23:34; cf. 8:19–20). Indeed, while Jesus addresses his message to the crowds, tax collectors, and prostitutes, and some scribes, tax collectors, and “sinners” accept his message and follow him, other scribes and tax collectors do not. Such scribes and tax collectors (5:46; 18:17) are described in negative ways,21 the latter even being historical explanation of why this came to be Matthew’s perspective, see Runesson, “Re-thinking Early Jewish-Christian Relations.” 19. Those in the secondary in-group who do not follow the law according to Jesus’s interpretation will be condemned in the final judgment just as much as other Jews in the primary in-group who neglect the law (Matt 7:21–23; cf. 24:12–13). 20. In 26:45 “sinners” may refer to non-Jews. If this is correct, it may indicate that Matthew viewed non-Jews as intrinsically sinful and therefore also (morally) impure (cf. Gal 2:15). For discussion, see Anders Runesson, “Purity, Holiness, and the Kingdom of Heaven in Matthew’s Narrative World,” in Purity and Holiness in Judaism and Christianity: Essays in Memory of Susan Haber, ed. Carl Ehrlich, Anders Runesson, and Eileen Schuller, WUNT 305 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 144–80. See also W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988– 1997), 3:501. 21. When scribes are critiqued, they are usually associated with the Pharisees.



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 111

portrayed as a model for how not to behave, emphasizing that repentance is necessary for all, regardless of background. Regarding ethnicity and boundary making in Matthew, we may note that non-Jews, when generalized, function both on the primary and the secondary in-group levels as examples of what to avoid. We have already noted above that when Jesus addresses the Jewish people as a whole (the crowds and the disciples together), non-Jews are held up as examples of bad behavior (5:47; 6:7, 32), indicating that the basic division in Matthew’s worldview is between Jews and the rest of the world. When Jesus is addressing only his ἐκκλησία, that is, the secondary in-group, non-Jews and tax collectors are likewise presented as examples of out-group behavior (18:15–17). In a similar way, we also find Matthew’s Jesus instructing the Jewish people (the crowds and the disciples), on the one hand, and his disciples only, on the other hand, regarding proper authority structures through references to both non-Jews and Jews of whose behavior Matthew does not approve. We see this in 23:8–12, where Jesus addresses the primary in-group (crowds and disciples, 23:1) and clarifies his instruction through renouncing the Pharisees and the scribes associated with them. On another occasion, Jesus instructs his disciples, that is, the secondary ingroup, with regard to the same issue, referring to non-Jews as examples of flawed authority structures (20:25–27). Based on the above, we may draw some basic conclusions regarding the use of ethnic identity to mark group boundaries in Matthew. First, non-Jewish behavior is used as an example of what the Jewish people, both the crowds and the disciples, must avoid. This may be explained by the simple fact that the foundations of proper behavior (moral and ritual) are laid down in the torah, and the torah is the exclusive possession of the Jewish people. Further, the torah functions within a Jewish ritual system, a system that includes not only commandments but also means of atonement, which administer and neutralize the guilt that accumulates from sins committed; this is a ritual system to which non-Jews do not have access, since it is intertwined with Jewish ethnic identity.22 Moral instruction is thus necessarily interconnected with ethnicity. Second, non-Jewish authority structures are used to demonstrate the opposite of proper institutional structures, which should be nonhierar22. We shall return to this in section 4 below.

112

Anders Runesson

chical and emphasize the equality of all within the in-group. Public Jewish organizational structures, especially as they relate to Jewish law, are, however, not problematized as such (23:2–3). Third, in all of the above cases we see that unacceptable non-Jewish behavior and structures are related to behavior and structures that also exist within the Jewish people, exemplified mainly through references to Pharisees, scribes associated with them, and tax collectors. This rhetorical strategy results in a pairing of “unrepentant Jews” within the primary in-group with the out-group, the non-Jews. The connection allowing this pairing, the common denominator, is that these “unrepentant Jews” act in ways that break the law,23 that is, they live in ways similar to those who do not have the torah in the first place: the non-Jews. While the Pharisees as a group are spoken of as lawbreakers and people who do not have enough righteousness to enter the kingdom (5:20), individual members of other collectivities within the Jewish people that are commonly not approved of by Matthew nevertheless contain positive individual exceptions to the rule. We have already seen that tax collectors are generalized together with non-Jews as examples of people outside the institutional boundaries of the secondary in-group (18:17). We also know, however, of other tax collectors who have joined or will join Jesus as his disciples (9:9; 10:3; 21:31–32) or who are sympathizers who seek to be close to him (9:10–13; cf. 11:19). We know, likewise, of scribes who, despite the generalized negative attitude Matthew displays toward them, become followers of Jesus (13:52; 23:34). This indicates movement between primary and secondary in-group in these specific cases, based on the teaching and extraordinary deeds performed by Jesus (and his disciples), which have a missionary effect among the Jews.24 While neither 23. This is Matthew’s main critique of the Pharisees and other Jews of whom the Matthean Jesus does not approve: the problem is not that they keep the law too strictly, but the other way around; they do not keep it strictly enough and thus break the law. See 13:41–42; cf. Davies and Alison, Matthew, 3:501. 24. Mission here should be defined as inward mission. For the definition of mission and terminology, see Anders Runesson, “Was There a Christian Mission before the Fourth Century? Problematizing Common Ideas about Early Christianity and the Beginnings of Modern Mission,” in The Making of Christianity: Conflicts, Contacts, and Constructions, ed. Magnus Zetterholm and Samuel Byrskog (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2012), 205–47. There is in Matthew’s Gospel constant interaction between the primary and the secondary in-group, where representatives of the secondary in-group actively attempt to move the Jewish majority (spoken of as “the crowds” in the gospel)



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 113

Jesus nor his disciples seek out the out-group in order to interact with them and make them move into the in-group,25 there are some similarities between individual members of the primary in-group who sympathize with Jesus, on the one hand, and individuals belonging to the out-group, who, on their own initiative, seek out Jesus, on the other hand. We shall return to discuss this under the next heading. What we have seen in this section indicates that the author of the gospel understands secondary in-group identity to be inextricably intertwined with Jewish ethnic identity. Since the secondary in-group is located within, not beyond, the primary in-group, we may safely conclude that Jewish ethnic identity is understood as a given within this “center within the center.” The center thus shares with the primary in-group essential identity-carrying qualities, which the out-group lacks, such as claims to the same land (“the land of Israel”; 2:20–21; 23:23), the same God (“the God of Israel”; 15:31), and the same law (e.g., 5:17–18; 23:23).26 2.2. Ethnicity and the Shaming of the Unrepentant The second function of ethnic-oriented discourse I would like to discuss here reinforces the basic ethnic distinction between the in-groups on the one hand and the out-group on the other, but from a slightly different angle. In the history of interpretation of Matthew’s Gospel, many scholars have assumed that the seemingly positive comparative references to non-Jewish

into to their own subgroup. Just as the crowds, who are Jesus’s main audience in the narrative, are warned against the Pharisees and the scribes associated with them, they are also warned against the non-Jews. 25. We shall return to discuss Matt 28:18–20 below. 26. See discussion of the land in Matthew by Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 51, and literature listed in n. 189 there. In Matt 23:23, tithing is presented as a necessary part of the law’s fulfilment. Tithing in Jewish tradition is related only to the land of Israel, not to the diaspora (cf. m. Qidd. 1:9), tithing itself being motivated by the holiness of the land (cf. Lev 27:30; m. Kelim 1:6; b. Hul. 6b–7a. For discussion of rabbinic perceptions of land holiness as related to land commandments, such as tithing, see Chaim Milikowsky, “Notions of Exile, Subjugation and Return in Rabbinic Literature,” in Exile: Old Testament, Jewish, and Christian Conceptions, ed. James M. Scott, JSJSup 56 (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 265–96. Thus, we may conclude that for Matthew’s Jesus, the land was holy, just as the city of Jerusalem and the temple were holy (4:5; 27:53; 23:17, 19). Regarding the connection between people, land, law, and god, see Mason, “Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism.”

114

Anders Runesson

individuals and collectivities in and of themselves indicate an anti-Jewish stance, or at least a move away from a focus on the Jewish people as the primary target of the Matthean Jesus, and toward the gentile mission introduced in Matt 28:18–20.27 Such interpretations, however, seem to me unlikely and hard to defend within the narrative logic of the gospel. The passages that are usually mentioned in this regard are Matt 8:10–13 (a centurion’s trust in Jesus’s powers compares positively to “Israel,” or “the heirs of the kingdom”); 11:20–24 (Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom compared positively to Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum); and 12:38–42 (Ninevites and the Queen of the South compared positively to “this generation”). First, it should be noted that there is no inherent connection between these passages and the so-called Great Commission in Matt 28. Matthew 28:18–20 describes a centrifugal movement, from the center within the center (the disciples/ἐκκλησία) to the nations, while these passages occur in settings preceding or following after the disciples have been prohibited to proclaim the kingdom among Samaritans and non-Jews (10:5–6). The centurion and the Queen of the South, as also the Canaanite woman (15:21–28) and the magi (2:1–18),28 seek out the Jewish Messiah. Second, and most importantly, it seems clear that these positive evaluations of individual non-Jews are emphasized precisely because these characters are non-Jews and thus belong to a world devoid of the knowledge of God. The Jewish people, however, were given the torah and could thus be expected to act according to their knowledge, recognizing God’s Messiah when visited by him.29 In other words, these examples of “positive comments” about individual non-Jews are, in fact, evidence of a generalized negative view of non-Jews qua non-Jews. The positive comments serve, first and 27. So, e.g., Donald Senior, “Between Two Worlds: Gentiles and Jewish Christians in Matthew’s Gospel,” CBQ 61 (1999): 6. See also the studies listed in n. 3 above. 28. We shall discuss these passages in more detail under the next heading. 29. The notion that all Jews were knowledgeable in the law and, as a consequence, no one would have any excuse for breaking the law, is present also in Josephus; “evasion of punishment by excuses” was, according to Josephus, “an impossibility” (C. Ap. 2.178 [Thackeray]). The basis for such claims is the weekly reading and studying of torah in synagogues, a practice widely attested in the first century; for sources, see Anders Runesson, Donald D. Binder, and Birger Olsson, The Ancient Synagogue from Its Origins to 200 C.E.: A Source Book, AJEC 72 (Leiden: Brill, 2008). For Matthew, such knowledge of the law should have resulted in the ability of recognizing the Messiah, since he was foreshadowed by the texts that were read weekly. The lack of the necessary repentance proclaimed by Jesus is thus without excuse.



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 115

foremost, the purpose of shaming those Jews who did not accept Jesus as God’s agent and, consequently, neither repented nor prepared themselves for the coming kingdom.30 The negative statements about individual Jews, or individual Jewish cities, also show that, for Matthew, just as belonging to the non-Jewish world was negative, being Jewish was something positive; Jews qua Jews could be expected to know God’s will, and when some did not, that was seen by Matthew as scandalous on a much larger scale than if these people would have been non-Jews. We see the same type of rhetoric applied also to inner-Jewish settings. People who should be expected to know the torah—whose position indicates that they were the “teachers of Israel,” as John’s Gospel expresses it (John 3:10), the chief priests and the elders of the people—are shamed by Jesus’s claim that “the tax collectors and the prostitutes” are going into the kingdom of God ahead of them (Matt 21:31–32). The people who should have recognized that the kingdom was approaching did not, but those who were like lost sheep somehow did (cf. 11:25; 9:36).31 In sum, far from being anti-Jewish, these Matthean passages thus reinforce, through comparative ethnic discourse, a basic first-century Jewish worldview, in which non-Jews, as a category, were seen as generally ignorant of God’s will (cf. Gal 2:15).32 In addition, the construction of the center within the center, that is, the secondary in-group, is dependent on precisely the same rhetorical dynamic: Those who were not expected to recognize the Messiah, such as “sinners,” prostitutes, and tax collectors, often understood the messianic significance of what happened around Jesus, whereas the learned and leading individuals within the people did not. This type of rhetoric, applied to those who were seen as marginal and far from the center, establishes a hermeneutical link between nonleading 30. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 214–17, does not speak in terms of shaming, but nevertheless, as he discusses Matt 11:20–24, notes that non-Jews are not part of the central message here. They are simply referred to in order to point out how the Jewish people should have been able to recognize Jesus as God’s messenger of salvation, since they had access to “the biblical promises of salvation” and could measure what happened around Jesus against these traditions (214–15). 31. See also 11:25, which follows directly after the shaming of three Galilean cities through references to three non-Jewish cities. 32. It should be noted that Matthew represents just one of several ancient Jewish approaches to the non-Jewish world. For discussion of the theme usually referred to as “universalism” within Judaism, see Terence L. Donaldson, Judaism and the Gentiles: Jewish Patterns of Universalism (to 135 CE) (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2007).

116

Anders Runesson

strata in Jewish society, on the one hand, and non-Jewish individuals who recognize the authority of the Jewish people and their Messiah, on the other. This latter aspect, the non-Jewish recognition of the authority of the Jewish Messiah, needs further comment. 2.3. Ethnicity and Empire: Matthew’s Counterkingdom So far, we have seen that ethnic identity is used in Matthew to distinguish the primary and secondary in-groups from the out-group. We have also argued that ethnicity is used for rhetorical purposes aiming at shaming leading Jewish figures, towns, and groups that did not accept Jesus’s proclamation of the coming kingdom, despite the Matthean claim that they, as Jews, should have recognized Jesus as the Messiah. Both of these uses of ethnicity address issues related to the identity of the in-groups, rather than aim at informing the audience about the status of the out-group, that is, the non-Jews. The third use of ethnic-oriented discourse that we will be discussing here, however, speaks directly to the issue of the status of nonJews in relation to the Jewish people and the Messiah. In brief, what we see is a Matthean version of empire, construed as an inverted mirror image of the Roman Empire. Three passages are important in this regard: the story about the magi coming to pay homage to Jesus at his birth (2:1–12), the centurion asking Jesus to heal his slave (παῖς,33 8:5–13), and the Canaanite woman who seeks help from the Messiah, “the Son of David,” to heal her demon-possessed daughter (15:21–28). Beginning with the magi, we are explicitly told in the narrator’s quote of their dialogue with Herod that they had come to show their loyalty and respect, to prostrate (προσκυνέω) before “the king of the Jews,” noting to Herod that they had seen the newborn king’s star (2:1–2).34 That such wording was, in Matthew’s narrative world, political at its core is evident not least from Herod’s reaction to what they say. However, for our purposes here, what is more important is that these prominent non-Jews “from the East” are said to have traveled from what in the narrative is portrayed 33. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 66, has “son.” 34. For a religiopolitical analysis of the story of the magi, see Anders Runesson, “Giving Birth to Jesus in the Late First Century: Matthew as Midwife in the Context of Colonisation,” in Infancy Gospels: Stories and Identities, ed. Claire Clivaz, Andreas Dettwiler, Luc Devilliers, and Enrico Norelli (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 301–27.



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 117

as the margins to the center, the Jewish Messiah, to acknowledge their dependence of and loyalty to the king, as if the Jewish king had authority not only over the Jews but also the nations of the East. This image is far from the “religious” nativity scene that has come to dominate modern interpretations of this episode in the life of the Messiah according to Matthew. Even speaking of this text as indicating the “universal dimension” of the gospel misses, in my view, the point.35 Rather, what we see here is the beginnings of a worldwide empire, fulfilling what had been written in the Psalter and spoken by the prophets, namely, that the God of Israel is the God of not only the Jewish people but also of the whole world.36 Matthew’s point is that this was recognized first of all by representatives of subjects in the East.37 The story of the magi is, thus, first and foremost a statement regarding the place of the Jewish king in relation to the nations, that is, it is what we would call a political statement. Interestingly, we find a similar type of ethnic-based rhetoric at work in the story of the magi as we have seen earlier in relation to other non-Jewish characters.38 The events develop as follows.39 First, the chief priests and the scribes are described as knowledgeable and well educated in the holy Scriptures (2:4–6). At the same time, however, they are blind with regard to what happens right in front of them, that is, they do not understand that what has been prophesied is now actually happening. They know the torah but are blind to the current moment and thus

35. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 272. Konradt hints, however, at the political aspect of the text, even though it seems as if his repeated emphasis on “theology” detracts from the political dimension in Matthew of, precisely, theological notions (272–74). 36. As recognized by Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 273. 37. See Warren Carter, Matthew and the Margins: A Socio-political and Religious Reading (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2000), 73, who interprets the story about the magi as first and foremost “a socio-political dynamic between the powerful settled center (Herod, the religious elite) and the apparently powerless, insignificant, and mobile margins (magi, Joseph, Mary).” Carter’s presentation of the magi as powerless is, however, missing the point Matthew is trying to make. (See William F. Albright and Christopher S. Mann, Matthew: Introduction, Translation, and Notes, AB [New Haven: Yale University Press, 1971], 13–14.) Rather, they are depicted representatives of the East. See further below. 38. See section 2.2 above. 39. For detailed discussion, see Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 356–61, and note the chart on 360.

118

Anders Runesson

fail to see what God is doing. Second, the non-Jewish magi are portrayed as ignorant of the Jewish Scriptures, which is to be expected, but they are nevertheless able to see what is happening in the present and thus shame the leading Jews who do not understand though they should have been able to do so. The magi know that a king with worldwide dominion has been born; they just need further instruction from people who know the Scriptures to find him. The knowledgeable blind thus help the uninformed who see, and the latter find their way to the Messiah. Finally, it should be noted that the description of Herod, the representative of (illegitimate) political power, reveals that this pericope is primarily a political critique. While each of the other two groups has strengths and weaknesses, Herod is portrayed as both ignorant and blind (2:4, 7), revealing that Herod’s illegitimate rule as king is Matthew’s main target as the story of the Messiah’s birth is told. Herod’s removal from the throne will result in the fulfillment of God’s universal rule through his Messiah.40 This relationship between Israel and the nations is further emphasized in the story about the centurion and his slave in 8:5–13. The condition for the healing of his slave is that the centurion acknowledges his subordinate position below Jesus, a position that reveals complete trust in the powers of the Messiah (8:8–9). The terms in which he explains his subordination relate to his profession as a military commander; as a representative of the empire, he submits to the ultimate authority of the Jewish king, which implies, as Konradt argues, worldwide (“universal”) rule.41 While it is not explicitly stated, the centurion is clearly portrayed as representing Roman (non-Jewish) authority in the land, either directly linked to Rome or indirectly via Herod Antipas.42 Jesus’s reaction to the voluntary subordination of the centurion is revealing: “Many will come from east and west and will eat with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven” (8:11). We have already seen in Matt 2 that people from the East will identify themselves as subordinate to Israel once the legitimate king/emperor, the son of David, has been born. Here, then, we have a representative of the West, indicating that people from among all nations will acknowledge the Jewish Messiah. Again, the trust and subordination of the ethnic other, the 40. Herod’s rule leads to the killing of the children of Israel (2:16–18), while Jesus’s rule will be acknowledged by the nations, who in turn will understand themselves as subjects of the Jewish king/emperor. 41. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 72–73. 42. So Carter, Matthew and the Margins, 200–201.



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 119

centurion, is emphasized in order to shame those within Israel who do not accept Jesus’s proclamation and status (8:12).43 Matthew has now indicated to his readers that the place of the nations of the world, from East to West, in relation to Israel’s Messiah is subordinate and therefore marginal. In other words, Matthew’s story announces Jerusalem, the city of the great king, as it is called (Matt 5:35; cf. Ps 48:3 MT [ET 48:2]), to be the center of the world, not Rome, which is the natural consequence of the worldwide rule of the God of Israel, as opposed to what currently seems to be the rule of an all-powerful Jupiter.44 In 15:21– 28, Matthew reinforces this message by letting Mark’s Syrophoenician woman become a representative of Israel’s historic enemies, the original inhabitants of the land: the Canaanites.45 We see the same ethnic-based pattern of submission here. The woman acknowledges her inferior status, accepting to be counted among the dogs that “eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table” (15:27). It is hard to imagine that first-century Jewish and non-Jewish readers would have missed the ethnic-based distinction between masters and subjects in this passage. For those who knew their history (most likely many, since torah was read and interpreted publicly each Sabbath in synagogues by this time),46 there is a clear reference here to the ownership of the land, since land and people go together. What 43. Matthew uses the expression “the sons of the kingdom” in different ways in his gospel. In 13:38 it refers to those who will enter the coming kingdom. By contrast, in 8:12 the expression refers to those in the current kingdom of Israel who reject Jesus’s proclamation of the legitimate kingdom to come, the merging of heaven and earth. 44. It only remains to conquer the city, which is attempted from Matt 19:1 (cf. 21:1–11) onward. Matthew also refers to Jerusalem as “the holy city” (4:5; 27:53). 45. For discussion, see John Nolland, The Gospel of Matthew: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), 630–32. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 61, also argues that Matthew’s redaction, which signals “a biblical atmosphere,” highlights “the classic opposition between Israel and Canaan.” He fails to note, however, how this “classic opposition” relates to the issue of land. As Konradt argues, dogs refer to “domesticated” animals; this, together with the fact that Canaanite signals land issues, should, in my view, further strengthen the position taken here, that is, that the Matthean Jesus envisions the land to be part of the process of restoration (Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 63 n. 270). For further discussion of the land in this regard, see Joel Willitts, Matthew’s Messianic Shepherd-King: In Search of “the Lost Sheep of the House of Israel,” BZNW 147 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007), 157–74. 46. For full discussion of this aspect of the synagogue, see Anders Runesson, The Origins of the Synagogue: A Socio-historical Study, ConBNT 37 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2001), esp. 237–400.

120

Anders Runesson

Matthew is communicating is that the Canaanites, that is, the enemies of Israel, accept Jewish rule when the legitimate king, “the son of David” (15:22), has come, and they will, as a consequence, have a share in the blessings of the kingdom.47 In sum, Matthew has construed the messianic event as a religiopolitical drama in which Jesus, as Israel’s Messiah, will, ultimately (28:18), rule the nations, just as the nations (Rome) now rule Israel. The gospel uses references to ethnic identity in order to show how this is beginning to happen already before the resurrection, from the day Jesus was born; the (non-Jewish) margins are drawn to the (Jewish) center and show their loyalty to the Davidic king. For Matthew the (shameful) irony is, however, that those who should have recognized the righteous king first of all and reacted with voluntary subordination and loyalty, the failed shepherds of the Jewish people (cf. Matt 9:36; 15:24; Ezek 34), are blind to the current moment and therefore reject Jesus and his claims. In Matt 28:18–20, we see the image of empire develop further, as Jesus commands his disciples to make disciples of people from among all (nonJewish) nations (μαθητεύσατε πάντα τὰ ἔθνη).48 Since antiquity did not know modern distinctions between religion and politics, the Great Commission should be interpreted as an assault on Roman dominance (and thus the dominance of Roman gods) in the world.49 Since Jesus and his disciples represent the center within the (ethnically defined) center, the mission command means that the non-Jewish world is now facing a choice: either join the Jews in worship of the God of Israel and obedience to the Jewish law, or perish in the final judgment, which will precede the full realization of the universal kingdom of heaven. In that kingdom, there is no room for Jupiter or any of the other gods, or demons, associated with the nations.50 47. The non-Jews as a group, however, are hostile to the followers of Jesus and will not surrender to the Jewish God and his messengers. Instead, they hate and torture these messianic Jews (24:9; cf. 20:19), despite the fact that, as Matthew emphasizes, their only hope is to subordinate themselves to the Jewish Messiah (12:18–21). On Matthew’s attitude to non-Jews, see Sim, Matthew and Christian Judaism, 215–56. 48. On this passage, and the meaning of τὰ ἔθνη in Matthew, see Terence Donaldson’s essay in this volume. 49. See Warren Carter, “Matthew and the Gentiles: Individual Conversion and/ or Systemic Transformation?,” JSNT 26 (2004): 259–82. Carter emphasizes both Matthew’s aim to subvert the Roman Empire and the Matthean insistence that the gentiles who join them must keep the torah. For the latter point, see especially pages 260, 282. 50. Or, perhaps better, in that kingdom all spiritual powers will be uncondition-



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 121

In other words: Matthew’s Gospel is very much aware of religioethnic boundaries, which are regarded as valid, since with them follows worship of a specific God or gods. These boundaries are integral to the Matthean worldview and its version of the good news about the kingdom. The point of view of the gospel is thoroughly centered on the Jews as a people, and it is into this Jewish world that non-Jews are invited. There are no “deethnosizing” tendencies in Matthew’s Gospel, which would lead us to think about religion as detached from ethnicity, as if we were dealing with a Greco-Roman philosophy rather than an ἔθνος and its cult.51 The pattern discussed above, in which ethnicity is a key component of the rhetoric of the gospel, means that, contrary to Paul, Matthew construes the ἐκκλησία as consisting of Jews and proselytes, not Jews and non-Jews. The ethnic boundary between Jews and non-Jews is not, however, the limits of salvation, precisely because Jewish theology of salvation is different from the Christian doctrines of later centuries, which proclaimed that salvation is only to be found within the in-group. We shall now turn to discuss how ethnicity affects notions of salvation in Matthean theology and why. 3. Salvation within and beyond Ethnic Categories As I have argued elsewhere, Matthew’s narrative seems to provide three paths for non-Jews.52 First, the status of the non-Jewish women mentioned

ally subordinated under the God of Israel and his Messiah. As hinted at in 28:18, that process has already begun. 51. See Anders Runesson, “Judging Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew: Between ‘Othering’ and Inclusion,” in Gurtner, Willitts, and Burridge, Matthew’s Gospel and Early Christianity, 136–38. See also Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, part 2. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, seems somewhat ambivalent with regard to the absolute ethnic boundary between Jews and non-Jews. On page 64, he claims, rightly in my view, as he discusses the Canaanite woman, that “she unites this universality with the salvation-historical status quo of the still absolute distinction between Jews and Gentiles” (emphasis original). Later, however, Konradt seems to negotiate this position when he states that, while “Israel retains her special role in election,” the “dividing line between Israel and the Gentiles loses its fundamental significance through the Christ event” (321). In my opinion, no such loss of significance is found in Matthew, and this has implications for how we perceive of the way in which non-Jews are to be incorporated into the community of (Christ-oriented) Jews according to the text. We shall return to this below. 52. Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 393–428.

122

Anders Runesson

in the genealogy indicates the Matthean perspective (Matt 1:3, 5). It is possible, or even likely, that Rahab, Tamar, and Ruth were understood in Matthew’s time in a way similar to later Jewish tradition, namely, as proselytes, not non-Jews.53 Matthew seems to signal already in the very first verses of his gospel the appropriateness for non-Jews to join the Jewish people as proselytes (cf. 3:9). Since ethnicity in antiquity was intertwined with the political, conversion would have meant a shift in loyalty for proselytes in order to accommodate Jewish law as well as the land with which the people identified within their own new identity. Rahab assisted Israelite takeover of the land, and Tamar and Ruth secured the royal Davidic lineage. If this is correct, it would explain the sudden—and narratively perhaps somewhat unexpected, in light of Matt 10:5–6—appearance of a mission to non-Jews in Matt 28:19–20, the political dimensions of which, as we have noted, cannot be ignored. Regardless of the problem of whether circumcision is implied in Matt 28,54 it is clear that Matthew’s Jesus requires complete submission to Jewish law, as understood by himself, both for those Jews who choose to follow him and for those non-Jews who must be taught by the disciples in the exact same way that Jesus taught the Jewish people, when they proceed from being outsiders to becoming insiders. Since, as we have discussed, insiders in Matthew narrative are always defined as Jews, this transition implies a transformation of the status of non-Jews to become Jews (28:20; 5:17–19). The term appropriate for such expansion of the community would be proselytism, aiming at incorporating non-Jews into the chosen people, the restored Israel. As the empire is taken on, the non-Jewish other is saved from his or her otherness through identification with the center, through becoming a proselyte. We could say, then, that Matthew’s story moves from a closed-ethnic (10:5–6) to an open-ethnic (28:18–20) stance, a change of perspective opposite to what we find in Paul.55 53. Tamar: b. Sotah 10a; Rahab: e.g., Mek. 5.3 (on Exod 18:1); Ruth: Midr. I Ruth 1.16–17. 54. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 319–20, argues against circumcision as implied in the Matthean view of conversion, but I find the arguments in favor of that view somewhat lacking. For discussion, see Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 30–36, 378–80. 55. For this terminology and definitions of mission, see Runesson, “Was There a Christian Mission,” 205–47. Paul seems to have moved in the opposite direction, as he, according to Gal 5:11, once accepted proselytes but ended up rejecting the idea that non-Jews should aim at merging into the people of God as Jews. Matthew seems to have



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 123

A second narrative pattern is, however, also evident in the text. For those non-Jews that Jesus encounters when carrying out his mission to his own ἔθνος, the proper response to Jesus is, as we have discussed above, subordination and recognition that the Jewish Messiah is their king too (8:5–13; 15:21–28). It should be noted that these non-Jews are and remain outsiders; they are not presented as followers of Jesus. The relationship of these non-Jews (as well as previously the magi of Matt 2) to Judaism in this specific messianic form resembles that of the so-called Godfearers’ relation to nonmessianic varieties of Judaism.56 The difference is, of course, that the former’s loyalty toward the God of Israel has a focus on the Messiah and the coming kingdom. This difference legitimizes, in my view, the use of a specific term for them: Christ-fearers.57 The question is, however, whether the narrative progression of the gospel suggests that this category of non-Jewish responses to Jesus is still valid after the resurrection or whether the ultimate eschatological turn of events brings with it a new reality for these Christ-fearers. The answer to that question may lie in the fact that the preresurrection centripetal movement of approved non-Jews around Jesus (they search for him, he does not look for them but restricts his mission to Israel only; Matt 10:5–6; 15:24; cf. 9:36) is centrifugally reversed in 28:19–20 (Jesus actively takes on the known world through his disciples). Jesus’s understanding of Jewish law, after the resurrection, is to be taught to all, which implies the abolishing of the very otherness that marked the Christ-fearers. Thus, it seems to me that for Matthew the approved status of the Christ-fearer was limited in time to the preresurrection period. The loyalty of the Christ-fearers, then, foreshadows their full conversion, but only after they have been taught Jewish law. As the resurrected Jesus receives “all authority [ἐξουσία] in heaven and on earth” (28:18), the transformation of the world has begun, and all need to change and keep even the most minor of the commandments in the agreed with Paul on one thing, though, namely, that “every man who lets himself be circumcised … is obliged to obey the entire law” (Gal 5:3; cf. Matt 5:17–18, 48; 19:17). 56. In defense of the term Godfearer, see most recently Paula Fredriksen, “ ‘If It Looks Like a Duck, and It Quacks Like a Duck…’: On Not Giving Up the Godfearers,” in A Most Reliable Witness: Essays in Honor of Ross Shepard Kraemer, ed. Susan Ashbrook Harvey, Nathaniel DesRosiers, Shira L. Lander, Jacqueline Z. Pastis, and Daniel Ullucci (Providence: Brown University Press, 2015), 25–33. 57. For this terminology, see Runesson, “Inventing Christian Identity,” 73.

124

Anders Runesson

Jewish law (5:19; 23:23). While during Jesus’s life on earth the blessings of the Davidic Messiah were shared beyond the ethnoreligious limits of the Jewish people by those who recognized his authority,58 it seems that the resurrection cancels that possibility. But as this door closes, the suffering of Jesus’s followers combined with a Jewish theology of the other opens another, third scenario with regard to inclusion in the coming kingdom. There is one text in particular in Matthew that is dedicated to the question of the salvation of nonconverted individuals belonging to the (non-Jewish) out-group: the parable of the sheep and the goats in Matt 25:31–46.59 This text spells out the criteria of judgment for those who belong neither among Jesus’s followers nor among the ethnically defined primary in-group. There are two key interpretive issues in this parable, which control, ultimately, how the text may be understood: the identity of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη (25:32) and the meaning of ἐλάχιστος (25:40, 45). As Sherman Gray has shown, interpretations have varied through the centuries.60 In my view, it seems difficult to avoid the conclusion that (1) “the least” are not the same as, or included in, “all the nations,” and (2) “the least” refers to followers of Jesus, that is, members of the secondary in-group.61 While it is debated whether Jews who have not recognized Jesus as the Messiah are included in the phrase “all the nations,” it seems to me to be the case that the expression “the nations” here, as often elsewhere in Matthew, refers to non-Jews, excluding Jews.62 58. See the pattern of thought in Gen 12:3. 59. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:418, prefer the designation word-picture rather than parable, but see Sherman W. Gray, The Least of My Brothers: Matthew 25:31–46; A History of Interpretation, SBLDS 114 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), 351–52, who argues for the parabolic nature of the pericope. 60. Gray, Least of My Brothers. 61. J. Winandy, “La scène du jugement dernier,” SE 18 (1966): 169–86; Gray, Least of My Brothers, 357–58. 62. For discussion, see, e.g., France, Matthew, 957–61. See also discussion by Terence Donaldson, Philip Esler, and David Turner in the present volume. If one reckons with two separate judgment scenes for Israel and the nations, respectively, as in some other contemporary Jewish texts (cf. Gray, Least of My Brothers, 358), and understand as intact the category of the chosen people as applied to Israel as a whole, including the Mattheans, then “all nations” would indicate that this scene takes place after the judgment of Israel and thus excludes the people of God. It should be noted that the fact that Israel is still seen as the people of God does not mean that it will avoid judgment. This is true both of those Jews who have joined the Jesus movement and those who have not. This interpretation makes sense, in my view, in light of the fact that “the least” are



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 125

The central point of the parable is the fact that none of those judged (positively or negatively) knew Jesus or his teaching, but that they, representing the out-group, are judged on the basis of how they have interacted with the followers of Jesus, thereby activating a principle of blessing or cursing similar to what we find in relation to Abraham and his descendants in the Hebrew Bible (Gen 12:3).63 Some of the language used relates, in fact, quite closely to Gen 12 (LXX): the sheep to the right are said to be blessed (25:34) as a consequence of their actions toward “the least,” and the goats to the left are cursed for the same reason (25:41). Interestingly, the sheep to the right are associated with the creation of the world, the time when the kingdom was prepared for them (Matt 25:34). This supports a reading of the parable in which we are dealing only with non-Jews, since in Jewish theohistorical narratives, Jewish foundations go back not to the creation story but to the story of Abraham and Sarah (cf. Matt 1:1).64 That the sheep will “inherit” (κληρονομέω; 25:34) the kingdom evokes images of a covenant made when the world was created, a covenant between God and all human beings. We know of other such Jewish traditions of a covenant between God and Adam from later rabbinic literature, although the Noahide covenant is more famous.65 Such discourses related to the beginnings of creation were formulated to answer salvation-related questions regarding the status of the other, of the non-Jew. Keeping within the bounds of this type of covenant enables non-Jews to enter the kingdom, that is, to achieve the status of righteous gentiles. It is tempting to read Matt 25:31–46 in light of these traditions and assume an implied reference here to a second covenant between God and not judged in this parable, despite the fact that the gospel states clearly that Jesus’s followers will also be judged, along with other members of the Jewish people. As for the criteria of judgment applied, one may note that similar principles are applied to Jews who are not part of the Jesus movement in Matt 10:40–42. 63. See Blaine Charette, The Theme of Recompense in Matthew’s Gospel (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1992), 155–59. 64. See the discussion in Davies and Allison, Matthew, vol. 3, and the six possible interpretations mentioned there. 65. Texts mentioning a covenant with Adam (with six commandments listed) include, e.g., Gen. Rab. 16.6; Deut. Rab. 2.25; Num. Rab. 14.12. Cf. Exod. Rab. 30.9, where different collections of laws were given to key figures in the Hebrew Bible (six commandments to Adam, seven to Noah, eight to Abraham, nine to Jacob, and “all” to Israel).

126

Anders Runesson

the non-Jewish world. However, although I have maintained such an interpretive possibility previously,66 I now believe it more likely that we should understand the reference as oriented more strictly around Abraham (and the dynamics of Gen 12:3), so that non-Jews who act with compassion toward “the least” are presented as inheriting the kingdom along with Abraham and his descendants. The result is an ethnically based theology of salvation that transcends the ethnic parameter without dissolving the difference between Jew and non-Jew. Therefore, when Stephen Wilson notes regarding Matthew that “the only salvation offered was through Christ,”67 this statement is only partly true: salvation is indeed said to be bound to the Messiah (via his community), but it may also be granted to people who were not part of the community of Christ believers. For contemporary Christian communities and scholars, such an interpretation of Matthew may sound strikingly modern and pluralistic, since it opens up for people who are not “Christians” to be included in the kingdom. However, understood within a Jewish interpretive frame, such salvation-inclusive theology goes back to antiquity and is still, in its basic form, an active principle in Jewish communities today: you do not have to be Jewish to be saved. This type of theology is rarely a desk product written by the powerful; it is the kind of theology that grows from a reality of persecution, in which a minority is harassed by the surrounding majority. Those within the majority who depart from the pattern of persecution, and who help and save those who suffer, can rarely be ignored by those who were helped. Perhaps this theological principle receives its clearest modern expression in the rules governing the identification of righteous gentiles at the Yad Vashem in Jerusalem. Matthew 25:31–46 follows the same basic theological logic, on a much smaller scale. If we imagine this gospel to have been written in postwar Galilee, as I think is likely, we should pay attention to the situation in which this community lived in order to understand either why the author created the parable, or, if the parable is based on older material, why he thought it important enough to include it in his version of the Jesus story.68 The area 66. I suggested this type of interpretation in “Judging Gentiles.” 67. Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians, 70–170 C.E. (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995), 55. 68. For the origin of the judgment scene as a Matthean composition, see Robert H. Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Literary and Theological Art (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982), 511. But see Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:417–18, who



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 127

was first devastated by war and now plagued by the increasing and permanent presence of the Roman military. Salvation, then, is from the Jews, to allude to John’s Gospel, but does not exclude non-Jews, as long as they, knowingly or unknowingly, act compassionately toward those “little ones” who suffer. It seems to me that as long as this “parable” is read from a lateantique or later (non-Jewish) Christian perspective, in particular when understood as part of Christian theologies of salvation, its imagery and message will be found to be in one way or the other inconsistent, resisting logical readings.69 Such inconsistencies, however, tend to dissolve when a Jewish interpretive frame is applied. 4. The Importance of Ethnicity in Matthew: The Why Question What we have seen so far is that Matthew’s Gospel maintains and uses rather frequently ethnicity and ethnic boundaries when in-groups and out-group are described, as well as when the requirements of salvation are construed. As for the latter, the situation may be summarized briefly as follows: salvation is dependent on grace, and grace is intertwined with ethnicity; thus, salvation depends on ethnicity.70 The pattern seems clear: ethnicity is an essential theological category for the Matthean Jesus, even when salvation is universalized and offered to members of other nations. But why, one may ask, is this so? In this concluding section, I shall outline briefly one possible explanation that highlights the larger issues at stake, which may be understood as triggering the use of ethnic discourse as a theological tool. Let us begin with a topic on which the majority agree and take it from there: the place of the law in Matthew. It is quite clear that few texts in the New Testament emphasize the law as much as Matthew’s Gospel does. The law is valid in every detail and must remain so until all is accomplished

argue that Matthew wrote the parable using previously existing oral tradition. Interestingly, they note on 418 n. 10 that Bultmann considered the pericope to be a Jewish parable reworked by Christians. 69. This is shown not least by the history of interpretation of the parable, from antiquity to today; see Gray, Least of My Brothers. Matthew had no knowledge of, nor would he have accepted, Cyprian’s claim that extra ecclesiam nulla salus. 70. I would argue that Paul’s very different solution to the gentile problem is based on the same basic ethnotheological assumption, which explains the importance of Abraham for Paul’s argumentation. Salvation can only be inherited, never earned.

128

Anders Runesson

and the kingdom has been fully established (5:17–19). We do not need to go into detail here, but it is beyond doubt, to my mind, that the most critical problem of the current moment in the narrative world of this text is that the torah has not been, and is not, observed as it should be, especially with regard to the moral aspects of the law (see, e.g., Matt 13:41–43; 22:34–39; 23:23–24). The law, however, is not an end to itself but was given in order for the people to be able to approach the God of Israel, which in turn requires them to achieve an acceptable state of ritual and moral purity.71 As I have argued elsewhere, from Matthew’s twenty-third chapter onwards, grave sins have polluted the temple, and he blames the Pharisees and the scribes associated with them for causing this to happen, accusing them of hideous crimes, including bloodshed inside the temple itself (23:29–36).72 The polluted temple must therefore be destroyed (23:37–24:2), but before this can happen, God must leave the temple, just as God left the first temple before it was destroyed (23:38; 27:51; cf. Ezek 10–11).73 Without the temple, however, the Mosaic covenant breaks down, since the means of atonement are an integral part of the Mosaic law; deprived of the temple, the law can only 71. On the dynamics of ritual and moral impurity in the era under discussion, see Jonathan Klawans, Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000); see also Klawans, Purity, Sacrifice, and the Temple: Symbolism and Supersessionism in the Study of Ancient Judaism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006); Eyal Regev, “Moral Impurity and the Temple in Early Christianity in Light of Ancient Greek Practice and Qumranic Ideology,” HTR 97 (2004): 383–411. 72. Runesson, “Purity, Holiness, and the Kingdom of Heaven,” esp. 167–74. On sin as defiling in Matthew, see esp. 15:18–19; see also 5:23–24. On the concept of inherited guilt in Matthew, which is triggered in Matt 23, see discussion in Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 80–84. 73. See also Josephus, who shares this view: B.J. 6.124–128, 300 (cf. 300–309). See A.J. 20.165–167; B.J. 2.254–257. See Doron Mendels, The Rise and Fall of Jewish Nationalism: Jewish and Christian Ethnicity in Ancient Palestine (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), 301–2. Guilt for the destruction of the temple is always sought, in the Hebrew Bible and Josephus as well as in rabbinic literature and the New Testament gospels, within the Jewish people, since if someone else, such as the Romans, would be accused, their god(s), by implication, would have to be understood to be stronger than the God of Israel. Through blaming the Jewish leadership (the Gospels), or Jewish “bandits” (Josephus), the Romans are transformed into a tool in the hand of the God of Israel as he punishes his people. This strengthens the view that the Gospels were written by Jews from an inner-Jewish perspective, even if they were meant to be read also by a non-Jewish audience.



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 129

condemn, not facilitate a relationship with God, since no one, including the righteous, is without sin. This is precisely why Jesus has to sacrifice himself, according to Matthew. Jesus must die to “save his people from their sins” (1:21; 26:28), since the temple has been abandoned by God and will later be destroyed, leaving the people without any means of atonement, without a connecting point between heaven and earth.74 Jesus’s death thus not only provides atonement but also restores the Mosaic covenant (26:28; cf. Exod 24:1–18), which explains Matthew’s emphasis on the continued validity of the law within that covenant setting. The ἐκκλησία will provide, after the temple’s defilement/destruction, the setting in which the people of God can approach God in purity, which also means that the community cannot accept impurity. Since moral impurity is the central problem in Matthew, forgiveness becomes crucial, since forgiveness is necessary to restore the status of the person who has committed a sin against another. Those who refuse to ask for or extend forgiveness must, consequently, be excluded from the community (18:15–17, 21–35). Now, what has this very condensed description of Matthean theology of covenant, law, and purity to do with ethnicity? The answer is: everything. Or at least quite a bit. As we noted above, Steve Mason has convincingly shown the interconnectedness in ancient societies between a people, a particular land, a particular law, and a particular god, or gods.75 These aspects are integrated also in Matthew’s Gospel. This means that we should expect a focus on the law to lead to a focus on the Jewish people, and this is precisely what we find in our gospel (see, e.g., 10:5–6; 15:24). Since the law in Matthew must be defined as the law of Moses, the law assumes a covenantal setting, an agreement between the Jewish people and their God, which the Matthean Jesus now insists has been broken because of the failure of especially leading Jewish individuals and groups to observe it properly. The people would have been lost had not Jesus sacrificed himself and so reestablished the covenantal relationship (26:28). Non-Jews have no part in this chain of events, since they were never given 74. For Matthew, thus, the destruction of the temple is not punishment for Jesus’s death. The theological logic operates in the opposite direction: the destruction of the temple necessitates Jesus’s death. Since Matthew points to the Pharisees as the key reason for the catastrophe, which requires Jesus’s death, this may also explain why Matthew more than any other New Testament text singles out this particular group for intense critique and condemnation. 75. See n. 1.

130

Anders Runesson

the Mosaic law in the first place. This explains the narrative functions of the ethnic-oriented rhetoric that we have outlined above in section 2, namely, that Matthew has little interest in other ethnic groups but uses the ethnic category to explain to the primary and secondary in-groups, who are ethnically Jewish, what they should not be or do, as well as shame those among them who rejected Jesus’s proclamation of the coming kingdom. Indeed, people of non-Jewish ethnic background would not have been relevant to the story at all had it not been for the apocalyptic-eschatological convictions promoted by the text. The world is coming to an end, but it will be reborn (cf. 19:28) after much suffering and a final divine judgment act (Matt 24–25). This motif introduces a universal concern and necessitates that Matthew comment on the larger non-Jewish world as it relates to Israel and its Messiah in an eschatological setting. This relationship is explained, as we have argued, with the help of a reversed-empire strategy; the nations must be submissive as the Messiah establishes the universal rule of the God of Israel. In the end, this means that non-Jews will have to become disciples, which in turn means that they have to convert to the Jewish way of life—whether through circumcision and baptism or only baptism matters less; if they are to be taught the law, as Matthew’s Jesus commands, they will have to become members of the covenant in which the law functions, that is, the Mosaic covenant, which Jesus has restored through his sacrificial death. Without the covenant and its means of atonement, the salvific aspect of the law breaks down, and it cannot function in any other capacity than to condemn those who try to live by it.76 The renewed covenant (activated by Jesus’s blood) will protect all who remain within it as apocalyptic suffering and death are approaching, just as the blood of lambs protected the Israelites when the angel of death was unleashed over Egypt (Exod 12:12–13). Jesus has to be accepted, therefore, by Jews and proselytes within the Mosaic covenant, as its restorer, not outside it. This means that ethnic discourse is maintained throughout the gospel and is key to its version of how salvation will be achieved. For 76. This is essentially a Matthean solution to the Protestant Reformers’ anxieties about “works-righteousness”; without a covenantal setting in which God’s grace is allowed to restore the relationship between God and his people, the law can only produce and accumulate guilt, in the sense that there is no salvation to be gained from it since there is no one who can observe the law flawlessly. This type of argument can also be compared to Pauline theology and the place of the law in relation to Jews and non-Jews.



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 131

non-Jews who want to join the (Jesus-centered) Jewish community, baptism will be necessary, as a washing away of their former (morally) impure (ethnically defined) status before they can enter into a covenant relationship with the God of Israel (28:19).77 The theological loophole for non-Jews, as discussed above in relation to Matt 25:31–46, provides what seems at first to be an exception to the rule. Here the point is precisely that the ethnic other, by relating to the messianic community with compassion, will have a share in the blessings of the kingdom and will inherit life in the world to come along with Jesus’s followers and other Jews who have assisted the latter (10:40–42). The acts of loving-kindness performed by these ethnic others are related to the Abrahamic covenant, not to the Mosaic covenant, and will thus open up an alternative way to salvation, beyond the Mosaic law and membership in the Jewish people. It is as if these non-Jews, through their actions, are thought to be susceptible to (moral) purity, such that they will receive a share of holiness through their interactions with the Christ-centered Jewish community.78 Be that as it may. The fact remains that, for whatever reason, Matthew has provided, while upholding ethnicity as a theologically active category, a way for the other to be reached by salvation without conversion. 5. Conclusion In this paper, we have discussed ethnicity as a category in the narrative world of Matthew’s Gospel. It seems to me clear that, in this text-world, the characters are aware of the implications of ethnic identity for the (theologically construed) status of individuals and groups in relation to the Messiah and his proclamation of the eschatological kingdom, and they act and react accordingly. The text as a whole is written from a consistently Jewish perspective, focusing on the Mosaic law embedded within the Mosaic covenant, which in turn is restored by Jesus’s self-sacrifice. The dynamics 77. No Jews are baptized by Jesus or his disciples in Matthew; in this story, the only baptism performed within the Jewish people is that by John the Baptist, and this baptism is explicitly said to be superseded by Jesus (Matt 3:11). 78. Cf. the idea of a transferal of holiness, in a family setting, in Paul’s theology: 1 Cor 7:12–16. For related discussion in later Jewish tradition, see Martin I. Lockshin, “Is Holiness Contagious?,” in Ehrlich, Runesson, and Schuller, Purity, Holiness, and Identity, 253–62.

132

Anders Runesson

of the text are theoritually incompatible, therefore, with the theological constructs of later non-Jewish Christianity, in which this gospel was put to use in order to, among other things, claim (non-Jewish) Christians to be the people of God. This means that, in my opinion, Matthew’s Gospel can hardly be described as a Christian text, but should be identified, quite simply, as a Jewish text. That Matthew’s Gospel was appropriated and used in later Christian settings does not justify that we designate it “Christian,” just as we should refrain from describing a prophetic text such as Isaiah as “Christian,” based on its frequent use in the church. Such use belongs, rather, to the text’s reception history, not its inception history, and should be analyzed accordingly. What we see in Matthew is, historically speaking, one of several variants of Second Temple Judaism that eventually disappeared from the scene of history. Can we say anything about the ethnic identity of the author, based on the above analysis?79 While the move from text to sociohistorical reality is complex and has to take several factors into account, it must nevertheless begin with an analysis of the ethnic-based dynamics of the narrative world. Since Matthew’s Gospel places the secondary in-group within the ethnically defined primary in-group, describing the non-Jewish world as foreign to both groups, and since the text is normatively expressing a clear distance between the non-Jewish world and the audience addressed in the story (mostly the crowds and the disciples), it is difficult to imagine that the original setting and uses of this text were not Jewish. This initial conclusion is further strengthened when we consider that Matthew’s Jesus is defending, normatively, a strict interpretation of the Mosaic law, which belongs and may be explained primarily within a Jewish setting. Since the text, which should, in my opinion, be defined as an ancient biography,80 encourages imitation of the behavior of its hero and his teaching, it is difficult to escape the conclusion that the individual(s) and group(s) by and within which this gospel was originally produced were and remained Jewish. The common pattern in the ancient Mediterranean world, in which an ethnic group was linked with a land, a law, and a god, or gods, further supports the assumption that Matthean groups, through their vis-

79. Cf. discussion in Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 355–67. 80. For discussion, see Richard A. Burridge, What Are the Gospels? A Comparison with Graeco-Roman Biography, 3rd ed. (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2018).



Aspects of Matthean Universalism 133

ible observance of the Mosaic law, would have been recognized as Jewish communities also by those who did not belong among them.81 As Matthew’s Gospel traveled to non-Jewish settings and became the first book of the New Testament canon, its interpretive history developed significantly to accommodate new hermeneutical challenges. One of the rereadings of the narrative in the mainstream churches that has had a tremendous and disastrous reception throughout Christian history involves the Pharisees. Matthew’s fierce critique of this particular group, which in the story belongs within the ethnically defined primary in-group, was, in the hands of the church, transformed into a critique of Judaism and the Jewish people as a whole. Thus, what in Matthew’s narrative was the out-group, that is, individuals and groups who were not ethnically Jewish, now turned themselves into the in-group and used Matthew to define and theologically (and physically) attack as enemies the Jews as a people. A number of recent monographs engaged in historical readings of Matthew have taken us back to the time of the inception history of the Gospel and shown just how strange such a hermeneutical development is, and how dependent it is on factors beyond the gospel itself.82 The present paper has aimed to add yet another perspective to such historical reconstructions of Matthew within Judaism.

81. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, suggests that, while the Matthean group may have identified as Jewish, nonmembers, such as Pharisees, may have disputed such an understanding of the community. In my view, this is less likely for several reasons. The presence of non-Jews among Matthean Jews, as Konradt reconstructs the institutional setting, which he places in the diaspora, is by no means exclusive for communities of Jewish believers in Jesus; this was quite common also in other diaspora synagogues (that is, various forms of Jewish associations). Such a mixed community would not have been immediately thought of, in and of itself, as undermining the Jewishness of the group, especially not if, as Konradt argues, gentile members were a small minority. In my view, though, Matthean communities likely accepted only proselytes, which strengthens further the maintained Jewish character of the group. Indeed, it is precisely the recognizable Jewishness of the group that caused negative reactions among other Jewish groups, including those in leading strata. Conflicts that emerged were perceived of as in-group conflicts by all parties involved. 82. For these recent monographs, see above, n. 6. For very different trajectories of Matthean reception within later Christ-oriented Judaism, see the study by Karin Hedner Zetterholm in this volume.

His Glorious Throne: Israel and the Gentiles in Mission and Judgment in the Gospel of Matthew David L. Turner

1. Introduction The future of Israel and the gentiles is a matter of concern from the outset of the Gospel according to Matthew. Construing Jesus as the son of both David and Abraham (Matt 1:1), and structuring Jesus’s genealogy (1:2–17) as pivoting on Abraham and David implies what becomes more clear in the ensuing narrative—God’s promises to bless all the nations through a descendant of Abraham (Gen 12:3; 18:18; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14; see Ps 47:8–9; Acts 3:25; Rom 4:1–25; Gal 3:8) and to rule perpetually over Israel through a descendant of David (2 Sam 7:8–16; 1 Kgs 8:24–26; 9:4–5; 11:12–13, 32–39; 15:3–5; 19:34; 1 Chr 17:7–15; 22:10; 2 Chr 1:8–10; 6:4, 16–17, 42; 7:17–18; 13:5; Pss 18:50; 89:3–4, 24–37; 132:10–18; Isa 9:7; 16:5; 37:35; 55:3; Jer 23:5; 30:9; 33:14–26; Ezek 34:23–24; 37:24–25; Hos 3:5; Amos 9:11; Zech 12:7–13:1)1 are fulfilled in Jesus the Messiah. In light of this, This essay has been written in dialogue with Matthias Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew, trans. Karen Ess, BMSEC 2 (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2014). I thank Prof. Anders Runesson and Prof. Daniel M. Gurtner for the opportunity to contribute to this volume. 1. Matthias Konradt has argued that for Matthew, Abraham is not only the patriarch of Israel but also the indicator of universal salvation. See Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 265–68. The apparently exclusive election of Abraham is the means of actual inclusion. David’s descendants and the Jerusalem temple they protect are also portrayed as a blessing to all the nations in such texts as 1 Kgs 4:34; 1 Chr 14:17; 22:5; 2 Chr 32:23; Pss 45:17; 72:11, 17; 86:9; 96:3–8; 102:15, 22; 117:1; 148:11; Isa 2:2:2–4; 52:9–10; 61:6–9; 62:1–2, 10–11; 66:18–20; Jer 3:17; 33:9; Mic 4:1–5; Zech 8:13, 20–23;

-135-

136

David L. Turner

one begins to think that the Messiah’s people, whom he will save from their sins (1:21), will include both Jews and gentiles. As the narrative unfolds, it is apparent that the Messiah’s people will include those from Israel who do not rely solely on national election and Pharisaic tradition to prepare them for the future reign of God (3:7–10; 5:20; 8:12; 15:1–20). A change of heart is necessary, one that opens the kingdom to tax collectors and prostitutes (3:1; 4:17; 11:20–21; 12:41; 21:28–32)2 and shuts it to unrepentant descendants of Abraham (3:7–10) and even to miracle workers who are ethically bankrupt (7:21–23). Even gentiles who have absolutely no claim to Israel’s national election or participation in Israel’s traditions may join God’s people as followers of Jesus the Messiah (2:1–12; 8:10–12; 15:21–28; 21:43; 22:8–10; 24:14; 28:19–20).3 Jesus’s commissions to his followers in Matthew are consistent with this understanding of the people of God. He sends them to continue what he has begun, forming his people through ongoing ministry to Jews (10:5, 16–23; 23:34) and gentiles alike (24:9, 14; 28:19). This mission will continue until judgment day (7:22; 10:15; 11:22, 24; 12:36; 24:36, 42, 50; 25:13), when the present age ends (10:22; 13:39–40, 49; 24:3, 6, 13–14, 28:20) and the new age begins (12:32; 19:28; 26:29) with the Messiah’s coming (10:23; 16:27–28; 21:40; 23:39; 24:3, 27, 30, 37, 39, 42–44, 46, 50; 25:6, 10, 19, 27, 31; 26:64; see 3:7; 6:10) to sit on his glorious throne and judge Israel and the nations (19:28; 25:31). In Israel, Church, and the Gentiles Matthias Konradt focuses attention on (1) Jesus’s ministry to Israel, (2) Jerusalem’s largely negative response to that ministry, and (3) the consequences of that negative response for both

14:16. Even the discipline brought on Israel for its sin is to be a testimony to the nations (e.g., Ezek 39:21–24). 2. The women in Matthew’s genealogy arguably contribute to this theme. See Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 268–72; David L. Turner, Matthew, BECNT (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2008), 27–28. 3. Konradt properly cautions against the notion that the church has become the people of God and seems to say that Israel alone is God’s people, with the ἐκκλησία formed by Israel’s mission to the nations existing alongside Israel (Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 327–53). I am not convinced of this use of the terminology, but I find it highly preferable to language that subsumes Israel’s historic identity under the heading of the church. This amounts to a supersessionism that is the reverse not only of what Matthew teaches but also of what John (John 4:22; 10:16) and Paul (Rom 11:13– 24; Eph 2:11–22) teach, not to mention the archetypal biblical text Gen 12:1–3.



His Glorious Throne 137

Israel and the gentiles. Assuming the positions articulated by Konradt,4 a plausible next step would consider (4) how Matthew portrays the ultimate messianic renewal of both Israel and the gentiles in light of the consequences of Jerusalem’s recent negative response to Jesus. The present study engages this question by considering the two texts that speak of Jesus sitting on “his glorious throne” (θρόνος δόξης αὐτοῦ; Matt 19:28; 25:31).5 The paper proceeds from a study of the throne in biblical and Second Temple texts to consider Matt 19:28 and 25:31–46 in terms of mission and the future of Israel and the gentiles. 2. “His Glorious Throne”: The Setting of Matthew’s Portrayal of the Ultimate Reign of Christ Matthew speaks of the glorious throne twice (19:28; 25:31),6 both times introducing scenes of final judgment by the Son of Man who is seated ἐπὶ θρόνου δόξης αὐτοῦ. The semantic range of θρόνος involves various nuances of a seat or chair occupied by human or divine figures. Frequently the term is a metonym for power or authority, most commonly that of God in present providential rule from heaven but at times with implications of future judgment on earth.7 In Matthew θρόνος occurs five times, marking present heavenly (5:34; 23:22; see Acts 7:49; Barn. 16.2, both citing Isa 66:1) and future earthly (Matt 19:28; 25:31; see Luke 1:32) nuances of divine authority.8 Thus the throne may be portrayed as the center or source of God’s providential, transcendent reign over history and of God’s final eschatological reign over the earth through the immanent messiah.

4. I find a great deal of harmony between Konradt’s views and my own, as most recently expressed in Israel’s Last Prophet: Jesus and the Jewish Leaders in Matthew 23 (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015). 5. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations are my own. 6. O. Schmidt’s comment that “the expression θρόνος δόξης is often found in Synoptic sayings of the Lord” (“θρόνος,” TDNT 3:164) is mistaken. Perhaps Schmidt intended to refer to texts where glory was contextually associated with the throne. 7. BDAG, s.v. “θρόνος”; Schmidt, “θρόνος,” 3:164–67. 8. These Matthean θρόνος texts have no parallels in Mark and Luke. Θρόνος does not occur in Mark. It occurs in Luke 1:32, 52, and in 22:30, which, as we will see, is parallel to the disciples’ thrones in Matt 19:28.

138

David L. Turner

2.1. The Throne in the New Testament The word θρόνος occurs sixty-two times in the New Testament, forty-seven times in the Apocalypse alone. It infrequently refers to current human rulers (Luke 1:52), but much more commonly describes God as providentially ruling the world from a heavenly throne (Matt 5:34; 23:22; Acts 7:49 [citing Isa 66:1]; see Rev 1:4; 4:2–3, 5–6; 5:1, 6–7, 13; 7:9–10, 15, 17; 8:3; 12:5; 14:3; 16:17; 19:4; 21:3, 5).9 Hebrews uses the term distinctly to speak of Jesus as the risen Lord, presently at the right hand of God,10 yet active in the affairs of the church (Heb 1:8, citing Pss 45:6–7; 4:16; 8:1; 12:2; see Acts 2:30–36; 7:55). Several other texts use θρόνος to describe Jesus as the glorious Messiah whose coming to rule from a throne on earth signals the end of the age, final judgment, and the renewal of the world (Matt 19:28; 25:31; Luke 1:32–33; 22:20; Rev 6:16; 7:9–10; 20:11). Ultimately heaven’s rule comes to earth as the heavenly throne of God, with Jesus at God’s right hand, becomes the eschatological throne of God and the Lamb in the new Jerusalem on the new earth (ὁ θρόνος τοῦ θεοῦ καὶ τοῦ ἀρνίου; Rev 22:1, 3). This apocalyptic vision occasionally portrays the people of Jesus as sharing in the rule of God and the Lamb from the throne (Matt 19:28; Luke 22:30; Rev 3:21 [see 2:26–27]; see also Dan 7:17, 27; Rom 5:17; 2 Tim 2:12; Rev 5:10; 20:4, 6; 22:5).11 9. It is debatable whether in Col 1:16 the plural “thrones” serves as a metonym for powerful angelic beings (T. Levi 3.8; 2 En. 20.1; Schmidt, “θρόνος,” 3:166–67) or for human rulers. In Paul’s worldview the former likely influence the latter, as is evidently the case in Rev 2:13; 13:2; 16:10, where evil spiritual forces make a parody of God’s rule. See BDAG, s.v. “θρόνος III.” The Revelation texts are difficult to categorize in that although God’s rule of the world is in view, that rule has apparently come to the point of final judgment through the Messiah. 10. The expression “at the right hand” relates the exalted Jesus to God’s rule from the heavenly throne in many texts: Matt 22:44 // Mark 12:36 // Luke 20:42 (Ps 110:1); Matt 26:64 // Mark 14:62 // Luke 22:69; Acts 2:33–34 (Ps 110:1); 5:31; 7:55–56; Rom 8:34; Eph 1:20; Col 3:1; Heb 1:3, 13 (Ps 110:1); 8:1; 10:12; 12:2; 1 Pet 3:22. See the dubious text Mark 16:19. Related to this, the sons of Zebedee wish to sit at Jesus’s right hand in the coming kingdom (Matt 20:21, 23 // Mark 10:37, 40). 11. The identity of the twenty-four elders who sit on twenty-four thrones in the Apocalypse is debatable (Rev 4:4; 11:16; see 4:10; 5:5–6, 8, 11, 14; 7:11, 13; 11:16; 14:3; 19:4). It is plausible to understand this entity as the completed people of God, Israel with the church, who share in the reign of God and Jesus. In this case the twenty-four elders are linked to the twelve apostles on twelve thrones. Others, such as Schmidt, believe that the elders are “certainly to be regarded as angelic powers” (“θρόνος,” 3:167).



His Glorious Throne 139

2.2. The Throne in the Old Testament Matthew’s conception of a messianic throne that enacts God’s heavenly rule on earth is founded on his understanding of the Bible. In the Hebrew Bible the throne (‫)כּ ֵסּא‬ ִ is also a metonym for the power of the king (Gen 41:40; 2 Sam 3:10) and is directly associated with regal authority (Exod 11:15; 12:29) and glory (Dan 5:20). God reigns over all the nations from his holy throne (Ps 47:8). The throne of the Davidic dynasty should function as Yahweh’s throne (1 Chr 28:5; 29:23); Israel is Yahweh’s kingdom in the hands of David and his sons (2 Chr 13:8). Accordingly, the king of Israel should be occupied with torah while on the throne (Deut 17:18; 1 Sam 2:1–4), leading to a reign in Jerusalem that enacts justice and righteousness (‫ ;משפט וצדקה‬1 Kgs 10:9; 2 Chr 9:8; Ps 122:5; Prov 16:12; 20:8, 28; 25:5; 29:14), in keeping with the purpose of God’s rule from the heavenly throne (Pss 9:4, 7; 11:4; 45:6–7; 89:14; 97:2; 103:19; Isa 6:1). Ideally, David’s descendants will continue on the throne as they follow torah (1 Kgs 2:1–4; 8:25; 2 Chr 6:16; 9:8); otherwise they will be disciplined (see 2 Sam 7:12–16; 1 Kgs 9:3–9; 1 Chr 17:11–14; 2 Chr 6:16; 36:11–21; Pss 89:3–4, 29–37; 132:11–12; see 4Q524 6 XII, 1; 11Q19 LIX, 14–17). The sins and apparent eventual end of the Davidic dynasty are reflected in prophetic texts that rebuke sinful kings and yet envision an ultimate Davidic king whose throne will enact justice and righteousness (Isa 9:7; 16:5; Jer 3:15–17; 13:13–14; 14:21; 17:12, 24–25; 22:2–5, 29–30; 29:15–19; 33:14– 18; 36:30). For Matthew, that king was Jesus.12 Matthew’s expression “his glorious throne” (θρόνος δόξης αὐτοῦ) is anticipated in 1 Sam 2:8, where Hannah’s prayer speaks of God as the one who exalts the lowly to sit with princes on an inherited seat of honor (‫כסא‬ ‫ ;כבוד‬θρόνον δόξης LXX 1 Kgdms 2:8; see Luke 1:52).13 Isaiah 22:23 speaks of Israel’s sin as rendering futile the coming royal stewardship of Eliakim, even though he will become a seat of honor (‫ ;והיה לכסא כבוד‬θρόνον δόξης Greg K. Beale understands the elders as probably “angels who are identified with the twelve tribes and the twelve apostles, thus representing the entire community of the redeemed of both testaments.” See Beale, Revelation, NIGTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 322. 12. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 17–48, 369–72. 13. On the syntax of the attributive or adjectival genitive see, e.g., IBHS §9.5.3; BDF §165; Daniel Wallace, Greek Grammar beyond the Basics (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996), 86–88.

140

David L. Turner

LXX) to his father’s house. These texts depict humans attaining a place of honor.14 More to the point of this study are texts that portray God’s glory as heavenly enthronement (e.g., Isa 6:1–3; Ezek 1:26–28). In Jer 14:21 the prophet acknowledges Israel’s sin and pleads with God that abandoning Israel would break God’s covenant with Israel and dishonor “your glorious throne” (‫ ;כסא כבודך‬θρόνον δόξης σου LXX). Apparently, God’s rule in Jerusalem through the Davidic dynasty is referenced here. Later the prophet presents Israel’s sin as incongruent with its glorious throne (‫;כסא כבוד‬ θρόνος δόξης LXX), set on high from the beginning (Jer 17:12). Here the glorious throne is associated with Jerusalem as the location of the temple (‫)מקום מקדשנו‬.15 2.3. The Throne in Second Temple Literature The term “glorious throne” also appears in Second Temple literature. The account of Isaac blessing Jacob’s son Judah in Jubilees 31.20 speaks in terms of Gen 12:3 about Judah’s sitting on a glorious throne with blessed and cursed nations (see Jub. 31.7). Sirach 47:11 concludes its reminiscence of David by saying God took away his sins, exalted his power forever, and gave him a covenant of kingship and a glorious throne (θρόνον δόξης) in Israel (see Sir 47:22; 48:15, 22). Wisdom of Solomon 9:10 portrays Solomon as asking God to send him wisdom from the holy heavens, from the glorious throne (ἀπὸ θρόνου δόξης σου). Psalms of Solomon 2.19–20, apparently referring to Pompey’s conquest of Jerusalem in 63 BCE, speaks of her beauty being dragged down from the throne of glory (ἀπὸ θρόνου δόξης). Testament of Levi 5.1 speaks of Levi’s vision of heaven in which he

14. See also the surprising euphemistic, perhaps sarcastic, use of the expression

‫ כסא שלכבוד בית‬in m. Tamid 1:1.

15. See also Sifre 37.3 on Deut 11:10, which expounds on the superiority of the land of Israel to Egypt by arguing that God first created the torah, then the temple (‫)בית המקדש‬, and then the land of Israel. The reference to the temple cites the glorious throne (‫ )כסא כבוד‬of Jer 17:12. Jeremiah 17:12 is also quoted gratuitously in Mek. 8.2 on Exod 22:30. The various targums’ reflection on God’s heavenly reign regularly utilizes the expression “throne of glory” in rendering such texts as Gen 2:6; 27:1; 28:12, 17; Exod 4:20; 15:17; 17:16; 24:10; 31:18; Num 11:26; Deut 30:2; 33:26; Isa 6:6; 22:23; 47:1; 52:2; 66:1; Pss 45:7; 68:5; 89:8, 15; 123:1; Song 1:11; Lam 5:19; Eccl 5:1. A few targumic texts speak of thrones as a reward of the righteous (1 Sam 2:8) or of thrones as seats from which the righteous judge the world (2 Sam 23:7).



His Glorious Throne 141

saw the Most High on a throne of glory (ἐπὶ θρόνου δόξης).16 The Testament of Abraham B 8.5 speaks of Adam sitting on a throne of great glory (ἐπὶ θρόνου δόξης μεγάλης) set between two gates. Adam cries seven times as much as he laughs because seven times as many people are entering the large gate leading to destruction as are entering the small gate leading to life.17 In 1 En. 9.4 alarmed angels present the pervasive sin of the world to the most high God, whose glorious throne stands forever (see 1 En. 14.18–21; 18.8; 25.3; 71.7); 1 En. 45.3 speaks of God’s elect one judging sinners from the glorious throne in a context of transformation of heaven and earth (45.4–5). Similar texts involving judgment from the glorious throne include 1 En. 47.3; 55.4; 60.2; 62.2–3. Additional texts speak of the son of man sitting on his glorious throne to judge the world (62.5; 69.26–29). Near the end of 1 Enoch (108.12), those who have suffered for obeying God’s law are promised that they will be seated individually on God’s glorious throne. The Martyrdom and Ascension of Isaiah 9.24–26 speaks of robes, crowns, and thrones that have been reserved for those who believe.18 Qumran texts also speak of God’s glorious throne. 4Q419 and 4Q434 associate God’s majestic throne with his eternal glory (4Q419 1 8–10; 4Q434 1 I, 7).19 4Q202, an Aramaic text containing portions of 1 En. 5–10, speaks of the heavens as God’s throne of glory (‫;[וכורס]א יקרך‬ ֯ 4Q202 1 III, 15). One text alludes to Isa 11:1–5 and speaks of an eschatological Davidic leader, whom God will give a glorious throne (‫ כ]סא כבוד‬-- [) from which to judge the nations (4Q161 8–10 20). Another alludes to 2 Sam 7 and understands it to promise a shoot of David who, along with an interpreter of the law, will arise to deliver Israel. God will establish the throne of his 16. A similar text in the Aramaic Levi Document (4Q213 IV, 6) speaks, as does T. Levi 5.1, of the gates of heaven being opened but does not mention the throne of glory being seen. See Jonas C. Greenfeld, Michael Stone, and Esther Eshel, The Aramaic Levi Document, SVTP 19 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 69. Similarly, See 4Q213 1 18, which speaks of the gates of heaven being opened to Levi. In the related Cambridge Genizah Text F 14, Levi promises his sons that if they obey God they will gain wisdom and be placed on a throne of glory (or chair of honor) wherever they go. 17. The matter of a Christian interpolation (see Matt 7:13–14) is raised here. 18. This text includes Christian interpolation, since the cross is mentioned near its end. 19. 4Q434 speaks of the renewal of the works of heaven and earth (‫שמים וארץ‬ ‫ ;חדש מעשי‬4Q434 2 II–III), of consolation in Jerusalem (‫ ;ינחמם בירושל[ים‬2 VI), and of all the nations (‫ ;וכל גוים‬2 VII).

142

David L. Turner

kingdom (‫ ;והכינותי את כסא ממלכתו‬4Q174 [Florilegium] 1 II, 10). Another speaks of God honoring the faithful on the throne of his eternal kingdom (‫ ;יכבד את חסידים על כסא מלכות עד‬4Q521 2 II, 7). Carol Newsom takes this as a “reference to thrones being an eschatological reward for the righteous.”20 Similarly, the speaker in 4Q491c envisions a mighty throne in the congregation of the gods (‫ ;כסא עוז בעדת אלים‬4Q491c 1 6) and congratulates himself that he has a seat in the heavenly council (1 7, 11). 2.4. Conceptual-Theological Background in Daniel Many throne texts have been surveyed, but Matthew’s portrayal of an eschatological glorious throne is arguably most dependent on Daniel, to which Matthew frequently alludes: Table. 5.1. Allusions to Daniel in Matthew21 Daniel

Matthew

Topic

2:28–29; 11:35; 13:39; 24:6 12:4, 13

End times

2:34–35, 44–45

21:44

Stone that smashes whatever it falls on

3:5–6, 10, 15

4:9

People are to fall down and worship

3:6

13:42, 50

Fiery furnace

4:12, 21

13:32

Birds make nests in the tree

7:9–10

19:28

Throne and thrones set up for judgment

20. Carol A. Newsom, “Thrones,” EDSS 2:946. 21. Bold-type entries in the table are more clear and relevant to this paper. The table is based on the indexes of quotations and allusions/verbal parallels found in Barbara Aland et al., eds., The Greek New Testament, 5th rev. ed. (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2014), 859, 879–80. Additional relatively minor verbal parallels are found in NA28, 865–66. These include Dan 6:18 // Matt 27:66; Dan 7:1; 8:1 // Matt 17:9; Dan 7:9; 10:6 // Matt 28:3; Dan 8:17 // Matt 17:6; Dan 9:3 // Matt 11:21; Dan 9:24 // Matt 4:5; Dan 10:9 // Matt 17:6; Dan 12:12 // Matt 10:22. See further Reimar Vetne, “The Influence and Use of Daniel in the Synoptic Gospels” (PhD diss., Andrews University, 2011).



His Glorious Throne 143

7:13–14

24:30; 26:64; 28:18

Son of man’s coming and universal authority

9:27; 11:31; 12:11

24:15

Abomination of desolation

11:41

24:10

People fall away

12:1–3

13:43; 24:21; 25:46

Resurrection, judgment, eternal destiny

Daniel begins with a frank acknowledgment of the failure of the Davidic throne to rule with justice and righteousness: God gave Jehoiakim king of Judah into the hand of Nebuchadnezzar and permitted vessels from the temple to be placed in the temple of a pagan deity in Babylon (Dan 1:1). Yet God’s permission has its limits—God judges Belshazzar for egregiously using the temple vessels to praise pagan deities (Dan 5:3–4, 22–23). Through the years in Babylon, faithful Jews such as Daniel continue to orient their lives to the promises of God and the city where God’s presence is to dwell (Dan 6:10; 9:21; see 1 Kgs 8:48; 2 Chr 6:38; Pss 48; 138:2). Although Israel is in exile, Israel’s God is not. God loyally protects the very nation he is disciplining (Dan 1:9, 17; 2:17–23, 28, 37, 44–47; 3:17, 28–29; 4:2–3, 25, 32–37; 5:21–23; 6:5, 16, 20–22, 26–27) and unveils its future (Dan 2:44; 9:22–23; 10:14). In Dan 2, Nebuchadnezzar dreams of a statue made of four metals. It is smashed by a stone cut out without hands that then becomes a great mountain. Daniel interprets this as God’s kingdom superseding human empires. In Matt 21:44 Jesus refers to the smashing power of the stone (Dan 2:34–35, 44–45) in his interpretation of the parable of the wicked tenant farmers.22 22. Matthew 21:44 is not found in D, 33, and some it and Syriac manuscripts (see REB, NJB, TEV). It is bracketed as dubious in NA28, but it has strong early Alexandrian support (including ‫א‬, B, C, K, L, W, Z). It is also found in the Majority Text, the majority of the lectionaries, and many early versions (including Old Latin a, b, c, d, and e; Vulgate, Syrus Curetonianus, Peshitta, Harklensis, Sahidic, Bohairic, Middle Egyptian, Armenian, Georgian, Old Church Slavonic, and Ethiopic). Metzger alludes to the view that the verse has been interpolated from Luke 20:18 but acknowledges that the wording is not the same in the two texts. There is also the possibility of unintentional omission due to homoioteleuton because 21:43 ends in αὐτῆς and 21:44 ends in αὐτόν. See Bruce M. Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, 2nd ed. (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1994), 47. UBS5 rates the verse as {C}, indicating its editors’ difficulties in resolving the matter.

144

David L. Turner

Daniel’s stone/mountain is associated in Matthew with the previously mentioned rejected stone that becomes the cornerstone (Ps 118:22–23). Jesus’s parable in Matthew pictures the transfer of God’s rule from the chief priests and Pharisees to a fruit-bearing “nation” (Matt 21:43). This does not mean that the Jewish people are replaced by the gentile church as stewards of God’s reign, but that Israel will receive new leaders from Jesus’s disciples.23 Daniel 2 contains a visionary portrayal of the eventual permanent victory of God’s reign over all human empires. This portrayal anticipates a very different vision with a very similar point in Dan 7. Daniel 7 portrays the international turmoil and violence of the four beast-nations (7:1–8; see the four metals of the statue in Dan 2:31–35), leading up to the placing of thrones (‫)כרסון‬24 and the seating of the awesome Ancient of Days for judgment (7:9–10; see Dan 2:44; 4:25–26, 34–35; 5:21; 6:26). The fourth beast and its horn are judged (7:11–12), leading to the coming and session of “one like a human being” (NJPS) who is given glorious indestructible dominion over all nations (7:13–14). Daniel 7:13 is clearly cited in Matt 24:30; 26:64 in terms of the Son of Man’s powerful and glorious coming on the clouds of heaven.25 After the seating of one like a human being, God’s saints are associated with the one like a son of man and share in his dominion (7:18, 21–22, 27),26 even though they previously undergo persecution by the little horn (7:8, 21, 25; see Rev 13:7). According to one way of translating Dan 7:27 (ESV, NJPS, NEB), the saints’ possession of the kingdom means that their kingdom (‫ )מלכותה‬will be everlasting, implying that all other dominions will serve and obey them.27 Other translations speak of God’s kingdom and all dominions serving God (KJV, NAB, NASB, NIV, NLT). Both transla23. Turner, Israel’s Last Prophet, 225–51. Konradt’s meticulous weighing of plausible nuances comes to the same conclusion (Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 172–93). 24. See Rev 20:4: Καὶ εἶδον θρόνους καὶ ἐκάθισαν ἐπ᾿ αὐτοὺς καὶ κρίμα ἐδόθη αὐτοῖς. 25. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 148–49. 26. Some scholars view the saints or holy ones of Dan 7 as angels, as seems likely with the singular expressions ‫ קדיש‬in 4:13 and ‫ אחד־קדוש‬in 8:13. But it is more likely that humans are in view in Dan 7, since the plural “saints” (‫ )קדישין‬are persecuted by the little horn in 7:21, 25. Also, 7:27 speaks of the kingdom being given “to the people of the saints of the Most High” (‫)לעם קדישי עליונין‬. See the expression ‫ עם־קדש‬in 12:7. Some scholars view “one like a son of man” as a corporate or collective personality equivalent to the saints. 27. Apparently the translations that render “their kingdom” understand the antecedent of the third-person masculine singular suffix of ‫ מלכותה‬to be ‫עם קדישי‬, not



His Glorious Throne 145

tions are compatible with the saints sharing in the son of man’s reign, but the former translation is all the more so. The prayer of confession in Dan 9:4–19 is also significant in its overtones relating to the Davidic throne in Jerusalem. The prayer is evidently based on Jeremiah’s word to recalcitrant Judah and Jerusalem (9:2; Jer 25:1–38, esp. 25:1, 3, 18, 29). The prayer alludes to the biblical narrative of Israel’s kings not listening to the prophets (Dan 9:6) and acknowledges the sad status of God’s holy hill and sanctuary in Jerusalem (9:7, 12). There is intercession for God’s face to shine once again on the city (9:16–18). The answer to the prayer through Gabriel also emphasizes the restoration of the holy city and its sanctuary (9:24–27; see 12:11–12). We are reminded that Matthew portrays Jesus as referring to Jerusalem as the “city of the great king” (Matt 5:35; see Ps 48:2) and highlights Jesus’s reference to a future temple sacrilege in terms of Dan 9 with an encouragement to pay attention (ὁ ἀναγινώσκων νοείτω; Matt 24:15). The description of tribulation, resurrection, and judgment in Dan 12:1–3 is also formative for Matthew’s understanding of the throne. The unparalleled tribulation preceding resurrection and judgment is described in Matt 24:21, alluding to Dan 12:1. Matthew’s description of the bifurcated destiny of those resurrected, involving eternal life in God’s kingdom versus everlasting fiery punishment (Matt 25:34, 41, 46), alludes to Dan 12:2. Matthew’s description of the bright reward of the righteous (13:42) is drawn from Dan 12:3. 2.5. Deuteronomism and the Restoration of the Throne The preceding discussion has surveyed literary and conceptual background for Matthew’s depiction of Jesus’s references to the Son of Man’s glorious throne in Matt 19:28; 25:31. In these texts the throne may refer either to (1) the center of God’s glorious heavenly reign or (2) the center of God’s earthly presence in Jerusalem through the Davidic dynasty, whose just and righteous governance of Israel was to model God’s glorious heavenly reign (see Matt 6:9–10). Many texts stress the inconsistencies and ultimate failure of the Davidic throne to enact God’s justice and righteousness. The prophets repeatedly called the kings and the nation as a whole to return to

‫עליונין‬. This decision leads to the same translations render the preposition with thirdperson masculine singular suffix ‫ לה‬as “them” in the clause ‫לה יפלחון וישתמעון‬.

146

David L. Turner

the law of Moses, but apart from occasional reforms the nation refused to listen, leading to the ultimate demise of the Davidic dynasty. Nevertheless, prophetic and apocalyptic texts portray another nuance with the restored Davidic throne as (3) the center of eschatological judgment, leading to justice and righteousness, the restoration of Israel, and the blessing of all the nations. The past downfall and ultimate restoration of the Davidic throne is best understood against a Deuteronomistic worldview, the worldview that informed and energized the prayer of Daniel discussed above.28 The Deuteronomistic theological perspective is the Weltanschauung that Israel prospered or suffered in relation to its obedience or its disobedience to the law. As went Israel’s covenantal loyalty, so went its national prosperity (e.g., Deut 28; 30:15–20; Josh 1:1–9, 16–18; see Jdt 5:17–19; 11Q19–20 [Temple Scroll] LIX, 2–20). In modern scholarship, the Deuteronomistic approach to the biblical narrative of Israel’s history may be traced to Martin Noth’s Deuteronomistic History, which focused on Deuteronomy to 2 Kings as a single work that stressed Israel’s disobedience as the reason for the destruction of the Davidic monarchy and the exile to Babylon. Despite Israel’s recalcitrance, God patiently sent them messenger after messenger who pled with them to repent. But Israel did not listen and in some cases went so far as to wreak violence on God’s messengers. In Noth’s understanding of Deuteronomism there was no hope for Israel in this situation, but others such as Hans Wolff saw in the biblical texts the possibility of deliverance if Israel repented.29 Odil Steck’s 1967 study

28. Turner, Israel’s Last Prophet, 3–113; Martin Noth, Deuteronomistic History (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1980). Among the voluminous literature on this topic, see Gerhard von Rad, “The Deuteronomic Theology of History in I and II Kings,” in The Problem of the Hexateuch and Other Essays (London: Oliver & Boyd, 1966), 205–21; Moshe Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School (Oxford: Clarendon, 1972); Anthony F. Campbell and Mark A. O’Brien, Unfolding the Deuteronomistic History (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2000); Albert de Pury, Thomas Römer, and Jean-Daniel Macchi, eds., Israel Constructs Its History: Deuteronomistic Historiography in Recent Research, JSOTSup 306 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 2000); Raymond F. Person, The Deuteronomistic School: History, Social Setting, and Literature, SBLStBL 2 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2002). For a critique, see Linda S. Schearing and Steven L. McKenzie, eds., Those Elusive Deuteronomists: The Phenomenon of Pan-Deuteronomism, JSOTSup 268 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1999). 29. Hans W. Wolff, “Das Kerygma des deuteronomischen Geschichtswerk,” ZAW 73 (1961): 171–86; translation: “The Kerygma of the Deuteronomistic Historical



His Glorious Throne 147

of the violent fate (gewaltsame Geschick) of the prophets comprehensively discusses this matter.30 According to Steck, the Deuteronomistic narrative of the history of Israel takes on a characteristic structure (deuteronomistische Geschichtsbild), which can be summarized as follows: 1. Israel’s history is portrayed as one of habitual disobedience. 2. God patiently sent Israel prophet after prophet to urge them to repent. 3. Israel rejected these prophets, often killing them. 4. Thus God punished Israel through the Assyrians and Babylonians. 5. But God promises restoration to exiled Israel and judgment upon Israel’s enemies if Israel will repent.31 Work,” in The Vitality of Old Testament Traditions (Atlanta: John Knox, 1975), 83–100. Wolff ’s view rather than Noth’s will be supported in this study. 30. My recent work Israel’s Last Prophet builds on Steck’s. See Odil H. Steck, Israel und das gewaltsame Geschick der Propheten: Untersuchungen zur Überlieferung des deuteronomischen Geschichtsbildes im Alten Testament, Spätjudentum und Urchristentum, WMANT 23 (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1967). Steck’s thesis was critiqued by Paul Hoffmann, Studien zur Theologie der Logienquelle (Munster: Aschendorff, 1972), 162–71. Michael Knowles’s work is helpful albeit limited. See Knowles, Jeremiah in Matthew’s Gospel: The Rejected-Prophet Motif in Matthean Redaction, JSNTSup 68 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993), 97–161. New Testament scholars have attempted to demonstrate the linkage of Deuteronomistic motifs in general and of the rejection of the prophets in particular with the story of Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels. John S. Kloppenborg notes the influence of Deuteronomism on the theology of Q in The Formation of Q: Trajectories in Ancient Wisdom Collections, SAC (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987), 101–3. David P. Moessner attempts to demonstrate that Luke’s travel narrative is constructed to present Jesus as a rejected prophet who is similar to Moses in Lord of the Banquet: The Literary and Theological Significance of the Lukan Travel Narrative (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1989). The 2002 Society of Biblical Literature Annual Meeting Q Section featured three papers that applied Steck’s thought to the theology of Q: William M. Schniedewind, “Deuteronomy and Its Legacy in Second Temple Judaism”; Arland D. Jacobson, “Q and the Deuteronomistic Tradition”; and Joseph Verheyden, “The Killing of the Prophets in Q and the Deuteronomistic Tradition.” These papers were intended to be published, but I am not able to find it. 31. Steck, Israel und das gewaltsame Geschick der Propheten, 184–86; see also 62–64, 122–24. Steck believed that the earliest tradition of this structure was found in Neh 9:26–30. Priestly editors perpetuated the tradition into the Second Temple period, with such success that almost all of the Jewish writings from the late Second Temple period contain the motif (189). See Knowles, Jeremiah in Matthew’s Gospel,

148

David L. Turner

As noted at the outset of this study, Matthew presents Jesus as the ultimate Davidic king of a renewed Israel that will be a blessing to all the nations. But how will this renewal be achieved? The Deuteronomistic pattern suggests that Israel’s fortunes turn on its response to the prophets as the ongoing voice of Moses. There will be a restored Davidic throne only when there is a return to the law of Moses. Matthew presents Jesus as the ultimate fulfillment of the law and the prophets, as a new Moses.32 Ironically, his rejection by the leaders of Israel led to his paying a ransom for sin.33 His blood inaugurated the new covenant (making Israel’s restoration possible).34 As the biblical prophets served as the ongoing voice of the archetypal prophet Moses, so the Twelve would serve as the ongoing voice of the ultimate prophet Jesus, the new Moses. After the resurrection, Jesus would send his Jewish followers to continue his mission to Israel as well as the gentiles. Matthew had hope that if Israel would once again truly bless the one who came in the name of the Lord, the ultimate restoration of Israel would begin.35 Matthew’s vision of Christian mission entails following the example of the rejected prophet Jesus with the hope that the Son of Man will come to his glorious throne. Moses typology and David typology meet in Jesus the Messiah of Israel.

101–2; Arland D. Jacobson, “The Literary Unity of Q,” JBL 101 (1982): 383–88. Jacobson argues that the Christian community that produced the Synoptic sayings source Q viewed itself in continuity with the rejected prophets of the Hebrew Bible. But recently Schniedewind’s yet-unpublished “Deuteronomy and Its Legacy” questions Steck’s reasoning and denies that the theology of Q is Deuteronomistic. 32. Dale C. Allison Jr., The New Moses: A Matthean Typology (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993); Terence L. Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain: A Study in Matthean Typology, JSNTSup 8 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985). Deuteronomy 18:15–19 is crucial for this understanding. See Turner, Israel’s Last Prophet, 18–21. 33. ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ ἀνθρώπου οὐκ ἦλθεν διακονηθῆναι ἀλλὰ διακονῆσαι καὶ δοῦναι τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ λύτρον ἀντὶ πολλῶν (Matt 20:28; see Isa 53:10–12; Luke 22:27; 1 Tim 2:6). 34. τοῦτο γάρ ἐστιν τὸ αἷμά μου τῆς διαθήκης τὸ περὶ πολλῶν ἐκχυννόμενον εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτιῶν (Matt 26:26–28; see 1:21; Exod 24:4–8; Zech 9:11; 1 Cor 11:25; Heb 9:11–28). 35. Matthew 23:37–39 is obviously a highly debated text. In my view it provides a glimmer of hope for the future of Israel. See Turner, Matthew, 561–62; Turner, Israel’s Last Prophet, 327–30; Dale C. Allison Jr., “Matt 23:39 = Luke 13:35b as a Conditional Prophecy,” JSNT 18 (1983): 75–84.



His Glorious Throne 149

3. “His Glorious Throne” and the Future of Israel in Matthew According to Matt 19:28, the Son of Man will sit on his glorious throne when the world is renewed (ἐν τῇ παλιγγενεσίᾳ), accompanied by the Twelve, who will sit on their own thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel. This striking text’s similarity to Luke 22:30 leads most source-critical scholars to view it as originating in Q.36 Matthew 19:27–28

Luke 22:28–30

27

28 Ὑμεῖς δέ ἐστε οἱ διαμεμενηκότες Τότε ἀποκριθεὶς ὁ Πέτρος εἶπεν αὐτῷ· ἰδοὺ ἡμεῖς ἀφήκαμεν πάντα καὶ μετ᾿ ἐμοῦ ἐν τοῖς πειρασμοῖς μου· ἠκολουθήσαμέν σοι· τί ἄρα ἔσται ἡμῖν; 29 κἀγὼ διατίθεμαι ὑμῖν καθὼς διέθετό 28 ὁ δὲ Ἰησοῦς εἶπεν αὐτοῖς· ἀμὴν μοι ὁ πατήρ μου βασιλείαν, λέγω ὑμῖν ὅτι ὑμεῖς οἱ ἀκολουθή­ σαντές μοι ἐν τῇ παλιγγενεσίᾳ, ὅταν 30 ἵνα ἔσθητε καὶ πίνητε ἐπὶ τῆς τραπέζης μου ἐν τῇ βασιλείᾳ μου, καὶ καθίσῃ ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ ἀνθρώπου ἐπὶ καθήσεσθε ἐπὶ θρόνων τὰς δώδεκα θρόνου δόξης αὐτοῦ, καθήσεσθε καὶ φυλὰς κρίνοντες τοῦ Ἰσραήλ. ὑμεῖς ἐπὶ δώδεκα θρόνους κρίνοντες τὰς δώδεκα φυλὰς τοῦ Ἰσραήλ.

3.1. Matthew 19:27–28 // Luke 22:28–30: Similarities and Differences The literary settings of the two passages differ, with Matthew’s preceding the arrival in Jerusalem and Luke’s following the Last Supper. The two instances of the key logion have minor differences, including: (1) Matthew has the ascensive καὶ with the verb describing the disciples’ session (καθήσεσθε καὶ), aligning their thrones with Jesus on his glorious throne, while Luke does not mention Jesus’s throne. (2) Matthew has δώδεκα describing both the disciples’ thrones and the tribes of Israel, while Luke has the adjective only with the tribes. (3) Matthew has the accusative construction ἐπὶ δώδεκα θρόνους, while Luke has the genitive ἐπὶ θρόνων. (4) There are also differences in word order. 36. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 259–60. Robert H. Gundry speaks of Matt 19:28–29 as the result of Matthew importing the tradition behind Luke 22:28–30. See Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Handbook for a Mixed Church under Persecution, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1994), 392–93. His approach to the pericope amounts to Matthew redacting Luke.

150

David L. Turner

Noticing these differences should not obscure the basic conceptual similarity of the settings. In both contexts the logion is preceded by a scene that emphasizes sacrificial service. In Matthew the rich young man has just departed, unwilling to sell his goods and follow Jesus (19:22). Peter asks Jesus what reward the disciples will have. Jesus promises thrones to the Twelve, and other rewards for everyone who has sacrificed for him in ways the just-departed rich young man has not. In Luke the disciples are debating which of them is the greatest (see Matt 18:1). Jesus points out that his service-oriented kingdom values are antithetical to the gentiles’ statusoriented values. He promises the disciples that they will be rewarded for persevering with Jesus through his trials: he will assign to them a kingdom, as he has been assigned a kingdom by his Father (see Rev 2:26; 3:21), and they will eat and drink as well as rule with him. This fits the Last Supper setting. In both settings sacrificial service in the present age leads to reward in the coming age, described by Matthew as ἐν τῇ παλιγγενεσίᾳ37 and by Luke as ἐν τῇ βασιλείᾳ μου. (see Matt 16:24–27). 3.2. Matthew 19:28 and the Future Judgment of Israel The description of the future renewed world in terms of the glorious messianic throne and the twelve associated apostolic/tribal thrones is striking.38 It prompts the blunt comment of W. D. Davies and Dale Allison, “Israel 37. The word παλιγγενεσία also occurs in Titus 3:5 (see Josephus, A.J. 11.66; Philo, Mos. 2.65; Büchsel, “γίνομαι κτλ,” TDNT 1:685–88). For the concept of a renewed world to come, see Isa 65:17; 66:22; Mark 9:12; 10:30; Luke 19:11; Acts 1:6; 3:21 (ἀποκατάστασις πάντων); Rom 8:18–23; 2 Pet 3:13; Rev 21–22; 1QS IV, 25; 1QHa XIII, 11–12; Jub. 1.29; 1 En. 45.3–5; 72.1; LAB 3.10; 4 Ezra 7.75; 2 Bar. 32.1–6; 44.12; 57.2. Elsewhere Matthew speaks of the present world passing away (Matt 5:18; 24:35), Elijah restoring all things (17:11), and of the end of the present age (28:20). See further Fred W. Burnett, “Palingenesia in Matt. 19:28: A Window on the Matthean Community,” JSNT 17 (1983): 60–72; W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 3:57–58; J. Duncan M. Derrett, “Palingenesia (Matt 19:28),” JSNT 20 (1984): 50–58. 38. The plausible association of the twelve thrones in Matt 19:28 with the plural thrones of Dan 7:9 and Rev 20:4 is intriguing. Judgment is the context in all three of these texts. See the twelve gates to the new Jerusalem named for the twelve tribes of Israel in Rev 21:12 (see Ezek 48:31–34). Also of interest are the 144,000 servants of God in the Apocalypse, 12,000 from each of the twelve tribes of Israel (Rev 7:1–6; 14:3).



His Glorious Throne 151

has a future.”39 Others demur, understanding the language to speak in Jewish terms of the gentile church, which supersedes Israel, ruling over the nations as a whole.40 This anachronistic approach disregards the historical setting of the text and the biblical throne theology that informs it. Additionally, it dissolves the text’s distinction between Jesus’s glorious throne, the disciples’ associated rule over Israel, and the general reward of all who sacrifice to follow Jesus (19:29; see Mark 10:29–30).41 The persecuted followers of Jesus (Matt 5:3–12) constitute a renewed Israel within Israel, and it is fitting that their sacrifices be rewarded. Likewise, the Twelve, as leaders of renewed Israel, will be rewarded with judicial authority over Israel.42 In the end the Twelve, not the faithless shepherds who presently lead God’s flock (9:36; 10:6; 15:24), will judge the nation as a whole (see 21:43).43 There has been a great deal of discussion over the meaning of the Twelve judging (κρίνοντες) the twelve tribes of Israel.44 Anders Runesson points out that judgment in Matthew has to do with (1) reward and punishment in the present world, (2) reward and punishment in the world to come, and (3) “final” judgment, which occurs chronologically between (1) and (2), issuing the salvation or condemnation verdicts that result in the rewards and punishments of (2).45 Although some take κρίνοντες in 19:28 as speaking solely of the condemnation of unbelieving Jews at the final judgment,46 eschatological rule or governance (Runesson’s second 39. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:56. 40. Craig L. Blomberg, Matthew (Nashville: Broadman, 1992), 301; R. T. France, Jesus and the Old Testament (London: Tyndale, 1971), 65–67; William Hendriksen, Matthew (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1973), 730. 41. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 260. 42. Konradt rightly connects Matt 19:28 to 10:1–4 and highlights the fundamental role of the Twelve in the restitution of Israel (Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 262). 43. Gundry, Matthew, 393–94; J. Andrew Overman, Church and Community in Crisis: The Gospel according to Matthew (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1996), 285. 44. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 260–63. 45. Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016), 44–48. To be sure, Runesson views salvation itself, in Matthew, not as a reward but as an inheritance. 46. John Chrysostom, Hom. Matt. 64.2; Ingo Broer, “Die Parabel vom Verzicht auf das Prinzip von Leistung und Gegenleistung (Mt 18, 23–35),” in À Cause de l’Évangile: Études sur les Synoptiques et les Actes; Offertes au P. Jacques Dupont, O.S.B. à l’occasion de son 70e anniversaire, ed. François Refoulé, LD 123 (Paris: Cerf, 1985), 157–65; Jacques Dupont, “Le Logion des douze trônes,” Bib 45 (1964): 370–81; Joachim Gnilka,

152

David L. Turner

category) is more likely the emphasis. Final judgment could be preliminary to governance. Although Matthew does not seem to use κρίνω with the nuance of ruling or governing elsewhere, its use in the LXX supports the sense of governing in many texts where κρίνω renders ‫שפט‬.47 John Nolland’s conclusion is fitting: “one should not draw too sharp a distinction between ruling and judging.”48 Other texts in Matthew concerning the eschatological role of Jesus are instructive. Matthew 2:6 cites Mic 5:2 to the effect that Jesus will be the ruler who will shepherd Israel (ἡγούμενος ὅστις ποιμανεῖ τὸν λαόν μου τὸν Ἰσραήλ; see 9:37–38; 10:5). In Matt 3:12 John speaks of Jesus as the one whose eschatological harvest will both gather wheat and burn chaff. Jesus is the judge who does not recognize unethical miracle workers in Matt 7:21–22. In Matt 13:41–43 (see Dan 12:1–3), the Son of Man’s coming leads to condemnation of the unjust as well as bliss for the righteous. In Matt 20:20–21 the two sons of Zebedee wish to sit on Jesus’s right and left in his kingdom, evidently in a governing role. These and other texts in Matthew (see 25:31–46) lead to the conclusion that Jesus’s eschatological rule will begin with a separating judgment that will

Das Matthäusevangelium, 2nd ed., HThKNT 1/1–2 (Freiburg: Herder, 1986–1988), 1:171–72; John P. Meier, The Vision of Matthew: Christ, Church, and Morality in the First Gospel (New York: Paulist, 1979), 141; Meier, Matthew, NTM (Wilmington, DE: Glazier, 1980), 223; Rudolf Schnackenburg, The Gospel of Matthew (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 190; Eduard Schweizer, The Good News according to Matthew, trans. David E. Green (Atlanta: John Knox, 1975), 389. 47. Against Ulrich Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007), 2:517. E.g., LXX Lev 19:15; Deut 1:16–17; 16:18; Judg 3:10; 4:4–5; Ruth 1:1; 3 Kgdms 3:9; 4 Kgdms 15:5; 2 Chr 1:10; Pss 2:10; 57:2; 71:2, 4; Prov 31:8–9; Zech 7:9; Isa 1:12, 23; Jer 5:28; Ezek 44:24; Dan 9:12; see 1 Esd 6:21; 1 Macc 9:73; 11:33; 2 Macc 11:25, 36; 3 Macc 6:30; Wis 1:1; 3:8; Sir 4:9; 42:8; Pss. Sol. 17.28. See 1 Cor 5:3, 12; 6:2–3; BDAG, s.v. “κρίνω,” 569; L&N 1:478, 555; 2:147. Closely related are Rev 2:26, 28; 3:21; 20:4, 6, 22:25. Κρίνω occurs elsewhere only twice in Matthew. In 5:40 it speaks of a suit seeking a negative judgment in a small-claims court, and in 7:1–2 it concerns an inappropriately negative personal view of another person. While neither of these texts relates to rule or governance, neither do they speak of anything approaching condemnation to death or eternal punishment. Matthew uses κατακρίνω to describe such an ominous verdict (12:41; 20:18; 27:3). See also κρίμα in Matt 7:2, and the distinction between κρίνω and κατακρίνω in 1 Cor 11:32. See also Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 262 n. 494. 48. John Nolland, The Gospel of Matthew: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), 801 n. 134.



His Glorious Throne 153

eventuate negatively in the condemnation of those who will not submit to his rule and positively in the bliss of those who will.49 To this point we have spoken of final judgment as unitary, a single event that encompasses all humanity, Jew and gentile alike. However, Runesson and others have made formidable arguments that Matthew is better understood as teaching separate judgments for Israel and the gentiles. We interact more fully with this viewpoint in the ensuing discussion of Matt 25:31–46. 4. “His Glorious Throne” and the Future of the Nations in Matthew Up to this point the present study has focused on the role of the throne in Matthew’s informing theology and has examined Matt 19:28 in light of that theology, concluding that Matthew portrays Jesus as gloriously ruling with his disciples over a renewed or reconstituted Israel. As noted previously, however, it is best to view the people of God in Matthew as including people from all nations, and Jesus’s glorious throne in Matthew pertains to these as much as it does to Israel. This brings the study to Matt 25:31–46. 4.1. Overview of Matthew 25:31–46 It is appropriate that a pericope on final judgment concludes Jesus’s final discourse in Matthew. Whereas Matt 19:28 mentions the Son of Man’s session on his glorious throne, with his disciples judging Israel from their twelve thrones, Matt 25:31–32 speaks of the Son of Man’s glorious coming with all his angels to occupy his glorious throne and judge all the nations. The narrative has four parts: (1) the setting of the judgment (25:31–33), (2) the invitation to the righteous to enter the kingdom (25:34–40), (3) the banishment of the wicked to eternal fire (25:41–45), and (4) the summaryconclusion (25:46). The structure is symmetrical, and various chiastic analyses have been made. Jesus refers to the Son of Man as “the king” in 25:34, 40. The king invites the blessed ones who cared for his siblings into the kingdom (25:34, 46). The cursed ones who did not care for Jesus’s siblings are banished to eternal fire (25:41, 46). Although some understand this judgment scene as a parable, only 25:31b–32 contains metaphorical elements. This language of a shepherd separating sheep on the right from 49. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 263.

154

David L. Turner

goats on the left pictures Jesus the Son of Man’s separation of people based on their treatment of him as demonstrated by their treatment of his siblings (25:34–36, 41–43). The surprise of both the blessed and the cursed at the basis of the judgment reminds the reader of the surprise of the fruitless/lawless miracle workers in 7:15–23. There is a huge body of scholarly literature on this difficult pericope and very many views of it.50 Ulrich Luz attempts to distil the discussion into three basic approaches:51 1. The universal interpretation. The Son of Man will judge all humans based on how they treated the poor and marginalized people of the world. In this recent interpretation the text is paraenetical: it encourages people, irrespective of their religion, to practice acts of mercy to others, irrespective of their religions, implying that religious dogmas are irrelevant. Luz admits this was not Matthew’s meaning, yet he believes that it is the meaning that should be held today.52 2. The classic interpretation. The Son of Man will judge all humans (or in some versions, all Christians) based on how they treat Christians. The text is paraenetical: it motivates all people (or Christians) to treat Christians mercifully. Luz believes this to be the most common view of the text until around 1800. Although the view is not widely held today, Luz believes it was Matthew’s intended meaning.53 3. The exclusive interpretation. The Son of Man will judge all nonChristians based on how they treat Christians. The view assumes that Christians have already been judged and are not in view here. The text is parakletic: it comforts persecuted Christians by stressing their Lord’s identification with them. Although Luz acknowledges this view’s exegeti-

50. Thirty-two different views are discussed by Sherman W. Gray, The Least of My Brothers: Matt 25:31–46; A History of Interpretation, SBLDS 114 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989). 51. Luz, Matthew, 3:267–74. 52. Luz, Matthew, 3:283–84. Davies and Allison argue that this is Matthew’s original intent (Matthew, 3:422–23, 428–30, 432–33). 53. Luz, Matthew, 3:274. I find it difficult to understand Luz’s reasoning here. It seems incoherent to list those who see the judgment of all humans in the text as holding the same view as those who see the judgment of Christians in the text. Additionally, it is difficult to distinguish between view 2 and view 3, since some adherents of view 2 see all humans judged on the basis of how they treat Christians.



His Glorious Throne 155

cal strength, he believes it to be narrow and sectarian, even arrogant and absolutist, the antithesis of the universal view.54 Many questions arise when this text is pondered. Identifying the least of Jesus’s brothers and sisters and determining whether “all the nations” includes the Jews are perhaps the most crucial questions. 4.2. The Identity of the Least of Jesus’s Brothers and Sisters Many take this expression (τούτων τῶν ἀδελφῶν μου τῶν ἐλαχίστων; 25:40, 45) as referring to any human being in need. Although this interpretation is altogether in keeping with biblical social ethics, it lacks immediate contextual support in Matthew. Matthew uses the terms “brothers” and “little ones”55 to describe fellow Jesus followers. This would indicate that the Son of Man’s close familial identification with his people is the key to understanding the passage (see Matt 10:40; 18:5).56 In this judgment scene, helping the least of Jesus’s siblings is tantamount to helping Jesus himself. A person’s relationship to Jesus is demonstrated not by private individual faith in Jesus but by public fidelity to Jesus’s followers. In this view the teaching of Matt 25:31–46 has affinity with that of Jas 2—faith works! It is at the very least plausible that the hardships faced by Jesus’s siblings in this 54. Luz, Matthew, 3:273–74. Anders Runesson’s essay in this volume includes a discussion of Matt 25:31–46 that takes what Luz would probably call an exclusive interpretation. 55. In Matthew a brother (ἀδελφός) is a sibling, either biologically (1:2, 11; 4:18, 21; 10:2, 21; 12:46–47; 13:55; 14:3; 17:1; 19:29; 20:24; 22:24–25) or spiritually. Spiritual brothers (and sisters) are fellow disciples, siblings in the community/family of those who follow Jesus (5:22–24, 47; 7:3–5; 12:48–50; 18:15, 21, 35; 23:8; 25:40; 28:10). See Donald A. Hagner, Matthew, WBC 33 (Dallas: Word, 1993–1995), 2:744–45. In Matthew “the little ones” (οἱ μικροί; 10:42; 18:6, 10, 14; see 11:11; 20:20–28; 23:8–10) are those whose repentance renders them humble disciples who no longer seek worldly power and status. One dare not cause the spiritual ruin of these little ones (18:6), and genuine forgiveness must occur if one of them sins against the other (18:21, 35). During the difficulties encountered in mission, help will come from those who are receptive to the message embodied and proclaimed by the community, and the helpers will be rewarded (10:40–42). 56. The persecution of Jesus’s disciples is due to their identification with him (Matt 5:11; 10:18, 22, 25; 23:34). The close association if not identification of the son of man and the saints in Dan 7:14, 18, 22, 27 may be significant for this point as well. See Prov 19:17; Luke 10:16; John 13:20; Acts 7:55; 9:4–5; 22:7–8; 26:14–15; Gal 4:14; 3 John 6; Midr. Tanh. on Deut 15:9.

156

David L. Turner

passage are due to persecution, whether of missionaries specifically or of Christians generally, who would of course be sympathetic to missionaries. If so, Matt 25:31–46 aligns with 5:10–12; 10:13b–23; 23:34; 24:9. During the difficulties encountered in mission, help will come from those who are receptive to the message of the little ones, and reward will come to those who have helped the little ones (10:11–13a, 40–42; 24:13; 25:34–40). Punishment will come to those who did not help the little ones (10:13b–23; 24:10–12; 25:41–46a). Perhaps the biblical figure Rahab, who helped the Israelite spies out of reverence for Israel’s God (Josh 2), anticipates the blessed people who aid the least of Jesus’s siblings here. 4.3. “All the Nations” in 25:32: Inclusive or Exclusive? An even more difficult issue is whether the expression “all the nations” includes the Jews. The word ἔθνος occurs fifteen times in Matthew, twelve times in the plural. When ἔθνος occurs in the plural, non-Jewish individuals, ‫גוים‬, are usually the referent (4:15; 6:32; 10:5, 18; 12:18, 21; 20:19, 25).57 Two plural-ἔθνος texts possibly speak of the nations in general, including Israel (24:9, 14). The last two plural-ἔθνος texts, 25:32 and 28:19, are particularly difficult. Two of the three uses of ἔθνος in the singular occur in 24:7, where national aggression is described. Such aggression apparently refers to gentile nations but does not necessarily exclude Israel. The remaining usage is 21:43, where the context does not support the transference of the kingdom from one ethnic group, national Israel, to another, the gentile church.58 57. Terrence Donaldson’s research on this question is persuasive. In his essay in this volume he demonstrates that in relevant ancient literature ἔθνος in the plural nearly always refers to non-Jewish individuals, not to non-Jewish people groups or to people groups including the Jews. Similarly, the expression πάντα τὰ ἔθνη nearly always refers to all non-Jewish individuals. Accordingly, the burden of proof is on those who believe the expression is inclusive of the Jews in at least some passages. Such proof would come from contextual factors that render an inclusive interpretation at least plausible. 58. Turner, Israel’s Last Prophet, 243–47. John P. Meier provides a careful analysis of ἔθνος in Matthew. See Meier, “Nations or Gentiles in Matthew 28:19?,” CBQ 39 (1977): 94–102. In Meier’s view the word’s referent clearly involves only gentiles in seven cases: Matt 4:15; 6:32; 10:5, 18; 12:18, 21; 20:19. The referent is unclear in only one case: 20:25. The referent probably if not clearly includes Jews as well as gentiles in six cases: 21:43; 24:7, 9, 14; 25:32; 28:19. Meier believes that 21:43 is the clearest text in Matthew where ἔθνος refers to Jews as well as gentiles (“Nations or Gentiles in Matthew



His Glorious Throne 157

The expression “all the nations” (πάντα τὰ ἔθνη) is most crucial for this study. It occurs four times in Matthew (24:9, 14; 25:32; 28:19).59 The long-standing debate over the expression concerns whether it includes or excludes the Jews as a people group.60 In my present judgment there is no convincing reason to exclude the Jews from those who will hate the Jesus followers in 24:9, or from those all over the world (ἐν ὅλῃ τῇ οἰκουμένῃ) who will hear the testimony of the Jesus followers in 24:14. In 25:32 the eschatological context of final judgment makes a universal gathering of all people before the glorious, enthroned Son of Man likely.61 In 28:19 God’s bestowal of universal authority or power on Jesus echoes Dan 7:13–14, 18, 22, 27. The son of man’s rule in Dan 7 includes all people62 unless one takes the strictly corporate view that the son of man is to be equated with Jewish saints who rule the gentile nations (Dan 7:27). It is likely for Matthew that 28:19?,” 97). He also concludes from a redaction-critical perspective that the texts in the final category that refer to Jews as well as gentiles show the most creative activity on the part of the Matthean redactor (102). 59. The use of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in the LXX arguably includes Jews at times. See, e.g., Isa 56:7 // Mark 11:17. In this text gentiles are invited to worship God in Israel’s temple. A similar text is Jer 35:11, 14 = MT 28:11–14, where the king of Babylon’s yoke encompasses Israel as well as gentile nations. See Dan 3:7; Pss 85:9; 116:1; 1 Macc 1:42; 2:18; Jdt 3:8. In the New Testament an inclusive reading of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη makes plausible sense of Luke 24:47; Rom 16:26; Rev 15:4 // Ps 86:9; see Ps 22:27. 60. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 311–17, esp. n. 252. Davies and Allison list six different views (Matthew, 3:422–23). Donaldson’s essay in this volume takes LXX Isa 56:7; Jer 35:11–14 [= MT 28:11–14] as two texts where an inclusive sense is possible for πάντα τὰ ἔθνη. The expression occurs one hundred times in the LXX! New Testament texts where Donaldson finds an inclusive sense to be possible are Mark 11:14 (which cites Isa 56:7) and Luke 24:47. 61. Alternatively, if πάντα τὰ ἔθνη is taken to refer to all the gentiles exclusive of Jews, one must posit with Runesson and others that Matthew portrays a two-stage final judgment, with Israel’s judgment separate from that of the other nations (Divine Wrath and Salvation, 391, 417). This view will be addressed in the next section of this study. On the gathering of the nations, see Matt 13:47; Luke 21:36; Isa 60:3, 5; 7; 66:18; Joel 3:2, 11–12; Zeph 3:8; Zech 14:2; 1 En. 90.30, 33, 37–38; 4 Ezra 7.37; 2 Bar. 72.2; T. Benj. 9.2. Other relevant texts include Dan 7:9–10; Rev 20:11–15; 21:24–27. 62. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 284–85, 305 n. 227. Echoes of Dan 7:13–14 in Matt 28:18–20 are most clear from the LXX and include the terms ἐδόθη, ἐξουσία, πάντα τὰ ἔθνη, γῆ, οὐρανός, and αἰών. The universality of the authority is underlined by the expression “in heaven and on earth” (see Matt 5:18, 34–35; 6:10, 19–20; 11:25; 16:19; 18:18–19; 23:9; 24:35; see also Eph 1:20–23; Phil 2:6–11; Col 1:15–20; 1 Pet 3:18–22; Rev 5:1–14).

158

David L. Turner

Jesus’s universal lordship entails a universal mission, including Israel with the other nations, and an eventual universal judgment.63 4.4. Matthew 19:28 and 25:32: One Judgment or Two? Although the identical language describing the Son of Man’s seating on a glorious throne in Matt 19:28 and 25:31 implies the same event is in view,64 some scholars have argued that these texts portray separate judgments for Israel and the gentiles. Multiple final judgments are sometimes adduced on the basis of such disparate texts as Rom 2:9–10; 1 Pet 4:17 (alluding to Ezek 9:6?); T. Benj. 10.6–11; and 2 Bar. 72.2–6. Gernot Garbe consistently distinguishes between the ongoing mission to and ultimate judgment of Israel and that of the gentiles.65 Gray believes that 25:31 portrays a judgment for non-Christians distinct from the judgment of Christians portrayed in 24:45–25:30.66 Runesson argues that Matt 25:31–46 presents the judgment of nonconverted gentiles based on their compassionate treatment of Jesus’s disciples. The surprise of the sheep-nations and goat-nations at their respective destinies is viewed to indicate their lack of awareness of the identity of Jesus and his mission. Despite this, such gentiles may enter the kingdom because they unconsciously cooperated with God’s plan to care for Israel and came under the promise of Gen 12:3. Their salvation is based in the grace once shown to Abraham.67 Those who favor the traditional unitary final judgment view should not take the arguments of Garbe, Gray, and Runesson lightly. Only brief engagement with Runesson is possible here. To be sure, Runesson views salvation in Matthew not as a reward but as an inheritance.68 But in Runesson’s view those who exercise ignorant benevolence toward Israel inherit salvation; they do not earn it. Such inheritance is strictly a matter of grace, not works, although lack of works could lead to one being disinherited. All

63. Although Davies and Allison support the inclusive view of all the nations, their discussion raises serious questions about it (Matthew, 3:421–23). 64. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 261–62 n. 492. 65. E.g., Gernot Garbe, Der Hirte Israels: Eine Untersuchung zur Israeltheologie des Matthäusevangeliums, WMANT 106 (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchen Verlag, 2005), 172–208. 66. Gray, Least of My Brothers, 358–59. 67. Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 414–28. 68. Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 424–26.



His Glorious Throne 159

this aside, “work salvation” in itself is not the problem for Matthew, who consistently stresses that faith works or bears fruit (3:10; 13:18–23; 24:13). The real problem for Runesson is whether Matthew supports the view that salvation may be received or inherited in any sense without repentance and faith (see 7:15–20). Benevolence and other works demonstrate the faith of gentiles in such Old Testament cases as Rahab and Naaman (Josh 2:9–13; Heb 11:31; 2 Kgs 5:17–19). In Matthew, gentiles such as the magi, the centurion, and the Canaanite woman act in a manner consistent with faith (Matt 2:1–12; 8:5–13; 15:21–28). Additionally, the high Christology of Matt 11:25–27 indicates that receiving special revelation from Jesus regarding his identity is necessary for entrance to the kingdom. With all this in mind, it is debatable that gentiles, even those performing good deeds toward Jesus’s disciples, need not believe in Jesus to be a part of the kingdom after Christ’s resurrection. Second, Runesson’s view that the surprise of the sheep and goats indicates their total ignorance of Jesus is something of an argument from silence. The fact that nothing directly is said in 25:31–46 about the faith and baptism of the sheep is taken by Runesson to indicate that they are totally ignorant of Jesus. But the text’s absence of direct evidence of their faith is not equivalent to evidence that faith is absent. Runesson’s argument might also be countered by the parabolic nature of the passage, a point Runesson stresses. Matthew’s emphasis on the surprise of the sheep and goats may be understood as poetic hyperbole underlining his teaching about the unity of Jesus and his followers (see Matt 5:11; 10:18, 22, 24–25, 40–42; 12:46–50; 18:20; 28:20). In this understanding, the sheep’s surprise is not due to their total ignorance of Jesus but to their amazement that Jesus regards his disciples so highly as to equate benevolence shown to his disciples with benevolence shown to him personally. On the other hand, the surprise of the goats flows from their dismay that Jesus regards his followers so highly. All things considered, perhaps the difficulty of resolving questions such as these means that we are asking too much from Matthew, or at least asking questions that the First Gospel was not written to answer. Konradt is correct to point out that biblical texts are generally not intended to present the sort of systematic and comprehensive taxonomies that are commonly sought and constructed by biblical scholars today.69 Scenes of 69. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 313–14. For Konradt this means that

160

David L. Turner

apocalyptic judgment do not always include clear timetables and classifications of the people being judged.70 Matthew 19:28 and 25:31–46 do not easily yield to attempts at harmonization. On the assumption of the basic coherence of Matthew as a whole and of these two passages in particular, plausible suggestions can be made. One such approach would be to view the two texts as presenting distinct aspects or perspectives of the same single final judgment from Christ’s glorious throne, with 19:28–30 focusing on Israel in particular, and 25:31–46 as a broader view of the judgment of all the nations (including Israel). It might be argued that the expansion from the reward of the twelve apostles in 19:28 to the reward of all who have sacrificed for Jesus hints at such an approach. Another approach would be to understand 25:31–46 as describing a singular final judgment of all humanity, with 19:28–29 describing the Jewish governance of the restored world after that judgment, when the blessed ones have already entered the kingdom. Yet another approach, one assuming the exclusive view of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in 25:32, would be to take 19:28 as implying a separate judgment of Israel either prior to or following that of non-Jewish individuals in 25:31–46. A fully satisfactory resolution of this problem is probably impossible. All in all, contextual factors lead me to lean toward taking Matt 25:31–46 as portraying the judgment of all humans (Jews and gentiles alike, including followers of Jesus) on the basis of how they treated Jesus’s needy followers.71 Grounding judgment on such benevolence would be nothing more than the implementation of Jesus’s teaching on the two great commands of the torah (22:34–40). One’s love for God is shown by one’s love for the other. A singular, universal, final judgment of all humans, Jews and gentiles alike, seems more in keeping with Matthew’s overall teaching (e.g., 3:12; 11:20–24; 13:37–43, 49–50; 16:27; 24:14, 30–31; 26:64), not to mention the general tenor of biblical eschatology (e.g., Eccl 12:14; Dan 12:1–3; John 5:28–29; 11:24; Acts 10:42; 17:31; 24:15; Rom 14:10–12 // Isa 45:23; 2 Cor 5:10; Eph 6:8–9; Rev 20:11–15). But we are asking questions that the exclusive view of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in Matt 25:32 cannot be ruled out as one possible interpretation. 70. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:419. 71. Those who, like Runesson, are not convinced that Donaldson’s burden of proof has been met will posit multiple facets or stages of final judgment in which the Jews and the gentiles receive distinct if not totally separate judgments. Paul possibly envisions something like this in Rom 2:12–16.



His Glorious Throne 161

Matt 25:31–46 is not directly intended to answer. In its eschatological discourse context, 25:31–46 is not concerned with precisely documenting the ethnic identities of the sheep and the goats at the judgment but with paraenetically preparing Jesus’s followers for that judgment. The text is more about ethics than ethnicity. It strikingly presents a third and final ethical duty of Jesus’s followers in view of his coming. The first duty is alertness in view of the unknown time of his coming (24:36–25:13). Those who are not alert are surprised when they are unprepared when Jesus comes (24:50; 25:6). The second duty is faithfulness in managing the resources Jesus has entrusted to his servants until he comes (25:14–30). The servant who does not manage his share of the master’s resources is surprised at the harsh treatment he receives from the master (25:25–30). The third duty is compassion toward needy followers of Jesus (25:31–46). All those judged here, both positively and negatively, are surprised because they did not realize that their treatment of Jesus’s followers was in reality their treatment of him. This surprising triadic eschatological ethic is at the heart of Matthew’s redaction of Jesus’s eschatological discourse. This ethic is the means by which true followers of Jesus demonstrate the authenticity of their faith, whether they are Jews or gentiles. 5. Mission until the End of the Age Many have concluded that the keynote of Matthew is found in 1:21: “He will save his people from their sins.” We have examined the role of “his glorious throne” as the climax of that salvation, entailing the final judgment and governance of the Jewish people as well as the gentiles, by Jesus, the son of David and Abraham, Israel’s Messiah. We have argued that the Deuteronomistic worldview is needed to understand why the biblical prophets envisioned that the failed Davidic throne could be restored to greater glory than it had ever known before. Matthew caught this biblical vision and presented Jesus as Israel’s last prophet whose followers were to engage in mission to “all the nations” until the end of the age. They were to do what all the biblical prophets culminating in Jesus did, namely, call Israel to its covenantal obligations, which included its being a light to the nations. Repentance could lead to the restoration and restitution of the nation and indeed of the entire world (see Acts 3:19–26). A few thoughts on this mission will conclude this essay.

162

David L. Turner

5.1. The Relationship between the Commissions of Matthew 10:5–6 and 28:19–20 What should be made of the much-debated relationship between the restricted or exclusive destination of the commission of Matt 10:5–6 and the universal or inclusive destination of the commission of 28:18–20?72 One finds three distinct views of the relationship of 28:19 to 10:5. In addition to (1) the traditional or majority view, which understands 28:19 as expanding the disciples’ mission from Jews exclusively to include Jews and gentiles, and (2) the view that 28:19 reverses 10:5 by redirecting mission from Jews alone to gentiles alone, (3) a mediating view understands 28:19 to refer specifically to gentiles, but not as a replacement for mission to Israel.73 In this view 28:19 mandates discipling the gentiles, yet it does not 72. Studies of mission in Matthew include Schuyler Brown, “The Matthean Community and the Gentile Mission,” NovT 22 (1980): 193–221; Brown, “The Mission to Israel in Matthew’s Central Section,” ZNW 69 (1978): 73–90; Brown, “The Two-Fold Representation of the Mission in Matthew’s Gospel,” ST 31 (1977): 21–32; Hubert Frankenmölle, “Zur Theologie der Mission im Matthäusevangelium,” in Mission im Neuen Testament, ed. Karl Kertelge (Freiburg: Herder, 1982), 93–129; Morna D. Hooker, “Uncomfortable Words X: The Prohibition of Foreign Missions (Mt 10.5– 6),” ExpTim 82 (1971): 361–65; Amy-Jill Levine, The Social and Ethnic Dimensions of Matthean Salvation History: “Go Nowhere among the Gentiles …” (Matt. 10:5b), SBEC 14 (Lewiston, NY: Mellen, 1988); Eung Chun Park, The Mission Discourse in Matthew’s Interpretation (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1995); Eckhard J. Schnabel, Early Christian Mission (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2004), 1:207–382, esp. 263–305; J. Julius Scott, “Gentiles and the Ministry of Jesus: Further Observations on Matt 10:5–6; 15:21–28,” JETS 33 (1990): 161–69; David C. Sim, “The Gospel of Matthew and the Gentiles,” JSNT 57 (1995): 19–48; Guido Tisera, Universalism according to the Gospel of Matthew (Frankfurt: Lang, 1993), 131–58; Risto Uro, Sheep among Wolves: A Study of the Mission Instructions of Q (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1987); Dorothy J. Weaver, Matthew’s Missionary Discourse: A Literary Critical Analysis (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1990). 73. On view 1, see Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:684; R. T. France, The Gospel of Matthew, NIGTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 1114–15; Gundry, Matthew, 595– 96; Hagner, Matthew, 2:886–87; Keener, Matthew, 719; Nolland, Matthew, 1215–16; Overman, Church and Community, 406–8. Luz cites several additional proponents, and his own weighing of the evidence leads him to a cautious acceptance of this view (Matthew, 3:628–31). In his previous discussion of Matt 10:5 Luz took the view that Matt 28:19 reverses 10:5 and mandates an exclusively gentile mission (Matthew, 2:73– 75). On view 2, see Michael J. Cook, Modern Jews Engage the New Testament: Enhancing Jewish Well-Being in a Christian Environment (Woodstock, VT: Jewish Lights,



His Glorious Throne 163

thereby cancel making disciples of the Jews. These three views might be called respectively (1) the expansion view, (2) the rejection view, and (3) the assumption view, because they affirm that 28:19 either (1) expands mission from Israel alone to all nations, or (2) rejects the Jewish mission in favor of the gentiles, or (3) assumes ongoing mission to the Jews while emphasizing a parallel mission to the gentiles. The mediating assumption view agrees with the lexicography of the rejection view—πάντα τὰ ἔθνη means “all the gentiles”—but it agrees with the expansion view that God has not finally rejected Israel and that mission to Israel has not been totally abandoned.

2008), 200–201. Luz cites several additional proponents (Matthew, 3:629 n. 116). Hare and Harrington probably favor this view as well, although there is ambiguity in their language. A close reading of some of their works arguably places them in the mediating third view. In his 1967 work The Theme of Jewish Persecution of Christians in the Gospel according to St. Matthew, Hare states, “Converts from Israel will not be refused, but they will not be sought. Henceforth the mission is not to Israel and the Gentiles but only to the Gentiles.” See Douglas R. A. Hare, The Theme of Jewish Persecution of Christians in the Gospel according to St. Matthew (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1967), 148. Hare’s 1993 commentary is less restrictive when it says that 28:19 “does not necessarily exclude Jews as prospective disciples” and that “Jewish converts are by no means excluded,” even though the church’s mission will now focus on gentiles. See Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew, Interpretation (Louisville: John Knox, 1993), 333–34. Harrington takes 28:19 to indicate that Matthew’s community should “seek new members not so much from their fellow Jews as from non-Jews.” See Daniel J. Harrington, The Gospel of Matthew, SP 1 (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2007), 416. Harrington’s “not so much from … as from” phraseology indicates a new emphasis, not a reversal. Harrington also comments that “the disciples are to share their discipleship not only with their fellow Jews but also with non-Jews” (416–17). This language is that of the traditional view. Nevertheless, Hare and Harrington have spoken in more stark language about God rejecting Israel, so their position is somewhat ambiguous. See Douglas R. A. Hare and Daniel J. Harrington, “ ‘Make Disciples of All the Gentiles’ (Mt 28:19),” CBQ 37 (1975): 363 n. 7. At times they speak of God finally rejecting Israel, but at other times they speak only of the great majority of the Jews rejecting Jesus. Concerning view 3, Amy-Jill Levine agrees with Hare and Harrington on πάντα τὰ ἔθνη meaning “all the Gentiles” but differs from them on 28:19 as a reversal of mission from rejected Jews to accepted gentiles. See “ ‘To All the Gentiles’: A Jewish Perspective on the Great Commission,” RevExp 103 (2006): 144–48, where Levine concludes that the Jews are still included in the Great Commission even if they are no longer its “primary target.” She had previously made this argument in more detail in Social and Ethnic Dimensions, 193–204.

164

David L. Turner

For many reasons discussed in many places,74 the rejection view, which posits a new mission exclusively to gentiles based on the replacement of Jews by gentiles in God’s plan, is untenable. The two remaining views are similar and much more plausible. It is a relatively small matter whether “all the nations” in Matt 28:19 speaks of a mission to all the nations including Israel, one that that expands from the Jews to the gentiles, or of a mission to all the gentiles on the assumption of continuing parallel mission to Israel. Although I have argued for the expansion view and held that “all the nations” includes Israel, I am now slightly more inclined to believe that Matt 28:19 enjoins mission to all gentile individuals on the assumption of ongoing mission to Israel. This seems to be the best way to understand the antithetical juxtaposition of Matt 10:5–6 and 28:19.75 A matter for further study would be to bring this hypothesis to other New Testament texts, such as Gal 2:7–10, where Paul speaks of his own gentile mission as distinct from yet in cooperation with Peter’s mission to the Jews. Yet this distinction does not seem to be consistently followed in Acts, where Peter, not Paul, first evangelizes gentiles (Acts 10), and Paul’s typical practice is to evangelize Jews in the synagogues, sometimes before reaching out to the gentiles (13:16–49; 14:1; 16:13; 17:1–4, 10–12, 17; 18:4; 19:8; 24:12; 26:20; 28:17). 5.2. Matthew 28:18–20 and Ongoing Mission to Israel Whether πάντα τὰ ἔθνη is understood inclusively or exclusively, Matt 28:18–20 does not spell the end of mission to Israel. Multiple lines of evidence support this conclusion. Even the restricted commission of Matt 10 hints that mission to Israel will occur alongside testimony to gentiles. The disciples are warned about appearing before gentile rulers and of the necessity of perseverance until the day of judgment (10:17–18, 22, 26, 28). Thus the purview of the discourse extends implicitly beyond its original audience. The most likely understanding of Matt 10:23 involves ongoing mission to the Jews. Matthew 23:34 speaks of future followers of Jesus whom he will send to Israel, and the most likely understanding of Matt 23:39 involves the future belief of Israel in Jesus. This assumes ongoing 74. E.g. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 1–15, 172–93, 337–45, 378. 75. Contrast 10:5–6 (εἰς ὁδὸν ἐθνῶν μὴ ἀπέλθητε καὶ εἰς πόλιν Σαμαριτῶν μὴ εἰσέλθητε· πορεύεσθε δὲ μᾶλλον πρὸς τὰ πρόβατα τὰ ἀπολωλότα οἴκου Ἰσραήλ.) with 28:19 (πορευθέντες οὖν μαθητεύσατε πάντα τὰ ἔθνη).



His Glorious Throne 165

mission to Israel. Matthew 23:1–3; 24:5, 15–16 (see Mark 13:9–10; Luke 21:12) assume ongoing contact of Jesus’s followers with Judaism and the Jerusalem temple. Such ongoing contact implies ongoing mission. The reference to the ongoing existence of a false account of the disappearance of Jesus’s body from the tomb (28:15) makes best sense in a context of ongoing Jewish mission.76 Why would this anti-Jesus apologetic still be needed when Matthew wrote if the followers of Jesus were no longer attempting to disciple Jewish people? Other New Testament texts describe the apostolic church’s ongoing mission to the Jews (Mark 13:9–10 [16:5, textually dubious]; Luke 21:12; 24:47; Acts 1–9; Rom 1:16; 9–11; 1 Cor 9:20). The rejected-prophet motif and the Deuteronomistic worldview that serves as its background both involve the promise of future restoration, conditioned on Israel’s repentance. Since this worldview and motif are central to Matthew’s presentation of the church and its mission, it is highly likely that mission to Israel will continue. 5.3. Matthew 28:18–20 as Torah for the Gentiles To conclude this discussion of mission to all the nations in Matthew, it is fitting to point out that Matt 28:18–20 is a thoroughly biblical and Jewish commission, one with several biblical allusions. The initial allusion to the theme of authority over all the nations in Dan 7:13–14 has already been touched on in section 2.4 and in note 59, but it might be added that the mention of the oppressed yet ultimately vindicated saints in Dan 7:22, 25–27 well fits Jesus’s teaching on discipleship (see Matt 5:11–12; 10:17– 42; 16:24–28; 23:34; 24:9–31). To this allusion to authority may be added the allusion to God’s presence with his people found in 28:20 (καὶ ἰδοὺ ἐγὼ μεθ᾿ ὑμῶν εἰμι πάσας τὰς ἡμέρας ἕως τῆς συντελείας τοῦ αἰῶνος).77 76. Gundry, Matthew, 595–96; Meier, “Nations or Gentiles?,” 102. 77. The inclusio formed by Matt 1:23 and 28:20 is well known (see Matt 18:20). Promises of God’s presence with his people are prominent in the Bible. God had promised to be with Moses (Exod 3:12; Deut 31:23) and to be with Joshua just as he had been with Moses (Josh 1:5; 3:7). God will be with Isaac (Gen 26:3, 24, 28); Jacob (28:15; 31:3); Joseph (48:31); Moses (Exod 3:12; 25:22; 33:14; Deut 2:7); Israel (Deut 31:6, 8; Isa 41:10; 43:5; 45:14; Jer 15:20; 30:11; 42:11; 46:28; Amos 5:14; Hag 1:13; Zech 8:23); Joshua (Deut 31:23; Josh 1:5, 9, 17; 3:7; 7:12); Gideon (Judg 6:12, 16); Saul (1 Sam 10:7); David (1 Sam 17:37; 2 Sam 7:3, 9; 14:19; 1 Chr 17:2, 8); Jeroboam (1 Kgs 11:38); Solomon (1 Chr 22:11, 18; 28:20); Israel’s judges (2 Chr 15:2); Jeremiah (Jer 1:8, 19); and Zerubbabel (Hag 2:4).

166

David L. Turner

In addition to these biblical themes, Matt 28:20 (διδάσκοντες αὐτοὺς τηρεῖν πάντα ὅσα ἐνετειλάμην ὑμῖν) alludes to biblical scenes of prophetic commissioning. Deuteronomy 18:18 speaks of a prophet like Moses who will speak to Israel everything that God commands him (‫ודבר אליהם את‬ ‫ ;כל־אשר אצונו‬LXX καὶ λαλήσει αὐτοῖς καθότι ἂν ἐντείλωμαι αὐτῷ). Jesus has spoken to the disciples all that God revealed to him (Matt 11:25–27), and he calls on his disciples to do no less with what he has taught them. Additional commissioning scenes with similar language include Exod 7:2; Josh 1:7; Jer 1:7, 17; and 1 Chr 22:13. Around twenty-four additional texts may be found where covenantal obligations are given to Israel with such language.78 It is plausible that the central feature of Jesus’s commission alludes to the archetypal Israelite Abraham. Jesus’s command that his Jewish followers make disciples from all the gentiles (μαθητεύσατε πάντα τὰ ἔθνη; 28:19) may be intended to recall Gen 12:3, where Abraham is projected to be a blessing to all the earth’s families (see Acts 3:25; Gal 3:8). Matthew links Jesus to Abraham at the very beginning of this gospel, so it is not a stretch to think that Abraham’s role in extending God’s blessing to the gentiles is invoked here. As a whole, these allusions provide a biblical context for Jesus’s commission. The prophetic missions of the Eleven and in turn of their gentile disciples are to be understood as extending the Moses-fulfilling torah of Jesus to the worldwide people of God (Matt 5:17–48). 5.4. Enter the Eleven It has been cogently observed that the ending of Matthew is open-ended.79 Jesus’s commissioning the Eleven begins a new chapter as much as it 78. Additionally, there are five texts where God directly commands various audiences to observe all he says (Gen 6:2; Judg 13:14; 1 Kgs 11:38; Jer 11:4), sixteen texts where God through Moses commands Israel to observe all he says (Exod 7:2; 23:22; 25:22; 29:35; 31:11; 34:11, 32; 40:16; Num 30:1; Deut 1:3; 12:11, 14; 30:2; 2 Kgs 18:12; 21:8; 1 Chr 6:34 [6:39 ET]), two texts where God through Moses and Joshua commands Israel to observe all he commands (Josh 1:16–17; 22:2), and one text where God through David commands Israel to observe all he commands (1 Kgs 2:3). See further Allison, New Moses, 262–66; W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., “Matt 28:16–20: Texts behind the Text,” RHPR 72 (1992): 89–98; Benjamin J. Hubbard, The Matthean Redaction of a Primitive Apostolic Commissioning (Missoula, MT: Society of Biblical Literature, 1974). 79. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:688.



His Glorious Throne 167

ends the previous one. The Eleven enter the story in a new role to communicate by word and deed the authoritative ethical teaching of Jesus to gentile individuals. Matthew 28:20 crowns the First Gospel by drawing together the Matthean themes of authoritative teaching and ethical obedience. The entrance of the Eleven and through their ministry the church at large, Jewish and gentile followers of Jesus alike, entails broader canonical themes pertaining to Jesus’s fulfillment of the role of torah for the people of God. Just as Israel was accountable to the law of Moses and the prophets’ ongoing ministry, so the nations are accountable to the teaching of Jesus, which continues through the ministry of the apostles. The church’s mission to gentiles as well as Jews continues until the Son of Man—who is also the Son of Abraham (see Gen 12:3; Ps 47:8–9) and the Son of David (see Isa 9:7; Jer 3:17)—comes to reign from his glorious throne. 6. Conclusion In this essay we have engaged the question of the future of Israel in Matthew by considering the two texts that speak of Jesus sitting on “his glorious throne” (θρόνος δόξης αὐτοῦ), Matt 19:28 and 25:31. We began with biblical texts (Old Testament and New Testament) that speak of the glorious throne and also surveyed relevant Second Temple texts. This section of the argument concluded with discussion of Dan 7 and the Deuteronomistic worldview, which informed the prophetic vision of the restoration of the Davidic throne. From this background we turned to consider Matt 19:28 and 25:31– 46 and the implications of these two texts for Matthew’s portrayal of the future of Israel and the gentiles. We argued that Matt 19:28 speaks of the Twelve as future rulers of Israel, not as those who preside over Israel’s condemnation. The discussion of 25:31–46 first summarized major views of this crux and then engaged key questions, such as the identity of Jesus’s brothers and sisters, whether πάντα τὰ ἔθνη is inclusive or exclusive in this text, and whether this passage portrays a judgment of gentiles separate from that of the Jews. Regrettably, we were not able to come to firm conclusions on all of these matters. The essay ended with brief discussion of mission in Matthew, arguing that the two commissions (10:5–6; 28:18–20) are coherent stages in Matthew’s depiction of the progress of the kingdom message. Although certainty is impossible, most likely πάντα τὰ ἔθνη (“all the nations”) in 28:19 refers to all gentile individuals on the assumption of a complemen-

168

David L. Turner

tary ongoing mission to Israel. Matthew 28:18–20 ultimately reaches back through Dan 7 and Deut 18 to Gen 12:1–3. The blessing of all the nations of the world will be culminated when Jesus reigns from his glorious throne.

“Nations,” “Non-Jewish Nations,” or “Non-Jewish Individuals”: Matthew 28:19 Revisited Terence L. Donaldson

1. Introduction The occurrence of the phrase πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in the commissioning scene with which Matthew’s Gospel concludes (Matt 28:19) has occasioned a long-standing debate: Does ἔθνη here have the distinctive sense of “nonJewish nations,” so that the command is to “make disciples of all the gentiles”? Or is the word to be taken in its basic sense of “nations” (a category to which Israel would also belong), so that the command is to “make disciples of all the nations (Israel included)”? Should πάντα τὰ ἔθνη be read exclusively (all the gentile nations) or inclusively (all the nations without exception)? The question first came into scholarly focus in a provocative and influential article by Kenneth Clark (“The Gentile Bias in Matthew”); the semantic aspect of the question then was the subject of a well-known debate in the pages of the Catholic Biblical Quarterly, between Douglas Hare and Daniel Harrington on one side (“ ‘Make Disciples of all the Gentiles’ [Matt 28:19]”) and John Meier on the other (“Nations or Disciples in Matthew 28:19?”); and it continues to be a disputed issue in Matthean interpretation.1 1. Kenneth W. Clark, “The Gentile Bias in Matthew,” JBL 66 (1947): 165–72; Douglas R. A. Hare and Daniel J. Harrington, “ ‘Make Disciples of All the Gentiles’ (Mt 28:19),” CBQ 37 (1975): 359–69; John P. Meier, “Nations or Gentiles in Matthew 28:19?,” CBQ 39 (1977): 94–102. Clark, however, did not address the translational issue directly; he simply assumed that the term should be translated in an exclusive sense: “Go and make disciples of all the gentile peoples [τὰ ἔθνη] … teaching them to obey all the commands I have laid on you.” The absence of any lexical discussion is especially striking in view of the fact that standard English translations from the KJV

-169-

170

Terence L. Donaldson

Until relatively recently, what has been at stake for participants in the debate has been the location and stance of Matthew’s Gospel—both theologically and sociologically—with respect to Jews and Judaism.2 The stakes are readily apparent in Clark’s article. In his reading of Matthew, Jesus’s command to the Eleven that they “make disciples of all the gentile peoples” serves as the capstone and climax of a “gentile bias” that has been building throughout the gospel as a whole. Matthew’s “primary thesis,” as Clark sees it, is that “Judaism as such has definitely rejected Jesus as God's Messiah, and God has finally rejected Judaism”; alternatively, it is that “Christianity, now predominantly gentile, has displaced Judaism with God as the true Israel.”3 Put in these terms, the “gentile bias” could equally be described as an anti-Jewish bias.4 In contrast, the inclusive reading (all the nations, Israel included) has been seen by many of its proponents as conducive to readings of Matthew that are less anti-Judaic. In such readings, the ending of Matthew is universal rather than exclusionary. Jesus’s postresurrection commissioning of his disciples represents not a rejection of the Jews in favor of the gentiles but an expansion of Jesus’s earlier mission (“to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” [Matt 10:5–6; 15:24])5 so that it now includes non-Jews as well. In Meier’s words, “the Ioudaioi … fall under the mandate of the risen Jesus to make disciples of panta ta ethnē (28:19)”; consequently, they are not consigned to the past but “remain a present reality for Matthew’s church.”6 down to Clark’s own day (including the RSV New Testament, published in 1946) consistently rendered the term in Matt 28:19 as “nations.” For a thorough recent discussion, with extensive bibliography on both sides of the debate, see Matthias Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew, trans. Kathleen Ess, BMSEC 2 (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2014), 311–23. 2. See Ulrich Luz: “The question is fundamental for understanding Matthean theology, because it reaches into almost all of its areas.” Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007), 3:628. 3. Clark, “Gentile Bias in Matthew,” 166, 168. For a much more detailed tracking of Matthew’s supposed gentile bias through the gospel, see Lloyd Gaston, “The Messiah of Israel as Teacher of the Gentiles: The Setting of Matthew’s Christology,” Int 29 (1975): 24–40, esp. 27–33. 4. For Walker, Matthew sees Israel as a massa perditionis that has been rejected by God and replaced by a gentile church. See Rolf Walker, Die Heilsgeschichte im ersten Evangelium, FRLANT 91 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1967), 10. 5. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations follow the NRSV, with my own occasional adaptation for clarity or emphasis. 6. Meier, “Nations or Gentiles in Matthew 28:19?,” 102.



Matthew 28:19 Revisited 171

The ending of the gospel opens into a future that includes the gentiles with the Jews, rather than one in which one is rejected in favor of the other. In the past, I have defended the inclusive reading (“all the nations”), partly because I found the gentile-bias reading of Matthew to be unpalatable.7 But more recently several factors have pushed me to reopen the question. The most significant of these has emerged from my current project, having to do with the development of gentile Christian identity through to the end of the second century. As part of this project I have been investigating the use of ἔθνη (and its equivalents) in Jewish, Christian, and Greco-Roman material. What has emerged from this investigation is a growing feeling that the more probable reading of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη is “all the gentiles.” Most of my paper will consist of a review of the evidence and a discussion of its implications. A second factor is a recognition that the inclusive reading (“all the nations”) is often only slightly less anti-Judaic than the exclusive one. For the most part, the inclusive reading is understood to involve a kind of national leveling, whereby Israel no longer enjoys any special covenantal status but has now become just one nation among many.8 Rather than being a people especially chosen by God, Israel in this reading has now simply been absorbed into an undifferentiated totality of nations. In Ulrich Luz’s reading of 28:19, for example, “the risen Jesus abolishes the privileged position of his nation of Israel in salvation history and regards the previously chosen people as simply one among other ἔθνη.”9 Jewish interpreters may well feel that there is very little to choose between this 7. See especially Terence L. Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain: A Study in Matthean Theology, JSNTSup 8 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985), 205–11; see also Donaldson, Jews and Anti-Judaism in the New Testament: Decision Points and Divergent Interpretations (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2010), 38–41. This is not to say that I would consider palatability to be a decisive criterion in itself. In this case, there are a number of other reasons to reject the gentile-bias reading (see further below). Still, ethical considerations have a place in the process of interpretation. 8. As we will see, such a loss of status does not necessarily follow from an inclusive reading of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη. While the evidence in support of an inclusive reading is very slight, in the very few passages where the term might have an inclusive sense (Isa 56:7; Luke 24:47) the unique status of Israel is by no means negated; see below. 9. Luz, Matthew, 3:630. Likewise Hagner, who also renders the phrase as “all the nations”: “It is shocking now to find Israel thus subordinated and absorbed into the comprehensive reference to the nations.” See Donald A. Hagner, Matthew, WBC 33 (Dallas: Word, 1993–1995), 2:630–31.

172

Terence L. Donaldson

“universalistic” reading and its gentile-bias alternative. As Amy-Jill Levine has observed, “the debate is consequently based on the question of degree: either the Jews have lost their privileged position in salvation history [‘all the nations’] or they have lost everything [‘all the gentiles’]; in either case, they have lost.”10 A third factor has been the recent resurgence in intra muros interpretations of Matthew—that is, interpretations in which Matthew’s community is understood as still located within the walls of the Jewish community, existing as a kind of sect or subgroup within the larger world of Judaism.11 Of particular significance is the work of several scholars within this group of interpreters who read πάντα τὰ ἔθνη as “all the gentiles” (or, like Matthias Konradt, who are open to the reading) but who do not take this to imply a rejection of Israel and an exclusive turning to the gentile world.12 In addition to Konradt, I am thinking in particular of Levine, Axel von Dobbeler, and Anders Runesson.13 While there are some variations among them, they agree that for Matthew the already-initiated mission to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel” remains in place and will continue until the parousia (Matt 10:23) but that, with Jesus’s new postresurrection status of universal authority, this continuing Jewish mission is now supplemented by a distinct mission to “all the gentiles.” 10. Amy-Jill Levine, The Social and Ethnic Dimensions of Matthean Salvation History: “Go Nowhere among the Gentiles …” (Matt. 10:5b), SBEC 14 (Lewiston, NY: Mellen, 1988), 194. 11. For earlier examples of this resurgence, see J. Andrew Overman, Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism: The Social World of the Matthean Community (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990); Anthony J. Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, CSHJ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994); David C. Sim, The Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism: The History and Social Setting of the Matthean Community (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998). 12. Of the earlier scholars, Overman does not have much to say about the issue, while both Saldarini and Sim read 28:19 inclusively, i.e., as signaling an expansion of the earlier Jewish mission so that it now encompasses “all the nations”; Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 81–82; Sim, Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism, 41–44. 13. Levine, Social and Ethnic Dimensions, esp. 2, 185–97; Axel von Dobbeler, “Die Restitution Israels und die Bekehrung der Heiden: Das Verhältnis von Mt 10,5b–6 und Mt 28,18–20 unter dem Aspekt der Komplementarität: Erwägungen zum Standort des Matthausevangeliums,” ZNW 91 (2000): 18–44; Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, esp. 311–17; Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016), esp. 379 n. 97.



Matthew 28:19 Revisited 173

My goal in this paper, then, is twofold. My primary goal concerns semantics and usage—the term (τὰ) ἔθνη in general and πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in particular. Here I will set out the evidence that, in my opinion, tends to favor the exclusive sense. Then I will turn to the matter of interpretation, engaging in some (unsystematic) reflections on what it would mean for our understanding of Matthew’s Gospel if 28:18–20 is understood as the inauguration of a new mission to “all the gentiles,” one that is concurrent with and parallel to the already-established mission to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”14 2. Πάντα τὰ ἔθνη: Semantics and Usage The backdrop of this discussion is the distinctive Jewish usage in which ‫ הגוים‬and later τὰ ἔθνη came to denote the nations other than Israel, the non-Jewish nations. The phenomenon is well-known, and Matthew clearly uses the term in this special way.15 The issue, then, is whether the addition of πάντα has the effect of overriding this distinctive usage and including Israel among the nations. My discussion of this issue proceeds in two parts. I begin by looking at the subsequent stage of this distinctive usage in which τὰ ἔθνη came to denote not only non-Jewish nations or people groups but also non-Jewish individuals. Since it is only with reference to non-Jews that τὰ ἔθνη is used of individuals, if individuals are in view in 28:18–20, then πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in verse 19 almost certainly refers to non-Jews (“all the non-Jewish individuals”; “all the gentiles”). Then I will examine the occurrences of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη (and equivalents, including ‫ )כול־הגוים‬in Jewish, Christian, and Greco-Roman usage. What will emerge from a survey of pertinent material is that, in texts whose authors are familiar with the distinctive use of τὰ ἔθνη to refer to non-Jews (that is, they use the term in this way), πάντα τὰ ἔθνη almost always denotes non-Jews exclusively (“all the gentiles”), rather than “all the nations” inclusive of Israel. While the possible exceptions are interesting, the main point is that the burden of proof falls on those who 14. For the most part my paper should be seen as exploratory in nature and tentative in its conclusions, rather than as a formal statement of a change in my position. 15. The mission command in 10:5–6, where τὰ ἔθνη is antithetically paired with “the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” is the most obvious example. On this phenomenon, see Terence L. Donaldson, “ ‘Gentile Christianity’ as a Category in the Study of Christian Origins,” HTR 106 (2013): 437–39.

174

Terence L. Donaldson

advocate the inclusive sense (“all the nations, Israel included”). I will deal with each of these aspects in turn. 2.1. Nations or Individuals? The later Second Temple period witnessed a development in which ἔθνη and ‫ גוים‬came to refer not only to non-Jewish nations but also to non-Jewish individuals. The usage, of course, is well-known to readers of the New Testament. “Until certain people came from James,” Paul writes in his letter to the Galatians, “[Cephas] used to eat with the ethnē16 [τῶν ἐθνῶν]” (Gal 2:12)—groups of non-Jews, that is, not non-Jewish nations. Recounting the visit of Paul and Barnabas to Iconium, Luke tells us that “an attempt was made by both the ethnē and Jews [τῶν ἐθνῶν τε καὶ Ἰουδαίων], together with their rulers, to mistreat and stone them” (Acts 14:5)—an attempt made by three groups of local individuals (non-Jews, Jews, rulers). The emergence of the English term gentiles as a translation of ἔθνη when used in this way has served to obscure the oddness and awkwardness of the usage—that is, the use of a term whose basic sense is “nations” to denote a multiplicity of individuals. The singular form of the English word can be used quite readily to denote a single dinner companion of Cephas or opponent of Paul and Barnabas (“a gentile”); the singular form of the Greek word (ἔθνος) cannot. A similar phenomenon is present in other modern languages as well (e.g., die Heiden, les Gentiles). This is not the place to trace the development in detail.17 From one angle, however, the development is not completely surprising. Once ‫ הגוים‬or τὰ ἔθνη had come to denote all nations other than one’s own, a certain homogenization was effected. Used in this way, the term referred to the collective other, a collective in which distinctions between ethnic groups were subordinated to what they had in common: they were the non-Jewish nations, the “others.”18 Once the term had taken on this homogenized sense, it was not a big step to perceive the collective as 16. Since the meaning of ἔθνη is under examination here, I will use the transliteration (ethnē) where “gentiles” or “nations” might otherwise be used (continuing to use Greek terms when discussing Greek usage). 17. For an initial treatment, including the emergence of the English term, see Donaldson, “ ‘Gentile Christianity’ as a Category.” 18. See the comment by Hare and Harrington: “Then [during the Persian and Hellenistic periods] goyim came more and more to represent not national groups such



Matthew 28:19 Revisited 175

a multiplicity of non-Jewish “others”—that is, individuals rather than people groups. In any case, the usage is fairly widespread in the literature of the period, beginning in the second century BCE. It is found in the Apocrypha (1 Macc 3:10, 25, 52, 58; 4:11–14; 5:9–10, 22; 14:36; 2 Macc 6:4; 8:9, 16; 12:13; 14:4; 3 Macc 4:1), in pseudepigraphic writings (T. Mos. 8.3; Jub. 22.16; 30.11, 13–14; Pss. Sol. 2.2, 19, 22; LAB 9.5; Apoc. Ab. 27.1), in Qumran material (CD A XI, 14–15; XII, 8–9; 4Q271 5 I, 9 [= CD A XI, 14–15]; 4Q161 8–10 1–4 [4QIsaiah Pesher]; 4Q159; 11QTa XLVIII, 11–13; 11QTa LI, 19–21), and in Tannaitic literature (e.g., t. Demai 1.12–13; t. Eruv. 3.8; 5.19; t. Pesah. 2.5; t. Ketub. 3.2; t. Git. 3.13–14; Mek. 1.2.35–50 [on Exod 12:3]). This usage (where ἔθνη or its equivalents denoted a plurality of nonJewish individuals) certainly did not displace the older usage (where it denoted a plurality of non-Jewish nations); the two often appeared side by side in the same context. In addition, it is to be noted that all of these instances are found in writings that inhabit the semantic world formed by the biblical tradition. The usage is much less common in Jewish literature that engaged more openly with the Greco-Roman world on its own terms; it is virtually absent, for example, from Josephus and Philo.19 To illustrate the usage, several examples will suffice. In 1 Macc 5:22, we read that, in a battle with the ethnē in Galilee, Simon “pursued them to the gate of Ptolemais; as many as three thousand of the ethnē [τῶν ἐθνῶν] fell, and he despoiled them.”20 Second Maccabees 6:4 describes the temple as having been filled with “debauchery and reveling by the ethnē [τῶν ἐθνῶν], who dallied with prostitutes and had intercourse with women within the sacred precincts.” Clearly, those who fell in battle or who dallied with prostitutes were individual non-Jews, not non-Jewish nations. Sexual activity is also in view in the Liber antiquitarum biblicarum of PseudoPhilo, where the author provides a justification for Tamar’s seduction of

as the Egyptians or the Greeks but rather one overarching collective—non-Jewish mankind” (“Make Disciples of All the Gentiles,” 360). 19. Possible instances where ἔθνη or τὰ ἔθνη is used in an absolute sense (i.e., without adjectives or other modifiers) are rare in Josephus (A.J. 13.200; 19.328–331). Where they appear in Philo, they simply echo the language of the biblical text under discussion (Post. 89–93; Migr. 53–61; QG 3.60; QE 2.22). In other Hellenistic Jewish literature, the usage is found in Wisdom (10:5; 12:12; 14:11; 15:15) and the Testament of the Twelve Patriarchs (T. Levi 14.1–4; 15.1; T. Jud. 24.6; T. Zeb. 9.8; T. Naph. 8.3–6). 20. Translations of the Apocrypha follow the NRSV.

176

Terence L. Donaldson

Judah: “For her intent was not fornication, but being unwilling to separate from the sons of Israel she reflected and said, ‘It is better for me to die for having intercourse with my father-in-law than to have intercourse with gentes [gentibus]’ ” (LAB 9.5).21 In one of the pertinent texts from Qumran, 4QIsaiah Pesher interprets Isa 10:33–34 as having to do with the “Kittim, wh[o] will be pla[ced] in the hands of Israel, and the meek [of the earth …] all the goyim and soldiers [‫ ]וגבורים כול הגואים‬will weaken and [their] he[art] will melt” (4Q161 8–10 1–4).22 “All the goyim and soldiers” clearly are to be seen as two groups of (fainthearted) individuals. Finally, the Tosefta contains many discussions of situations involving Jews and non-Jews, including this one attributed to Rabbi Meir: “A storehouse into which Israelites and gentiles [‫ ]גוים‬cast [their produce]—if the majority [of those who cast] are gentiles [‫[—]גוים‬all of the produce is held to be] certainly untithed” (t. Demai 1.12–13).23 In addition to rabbinic passages in which ‫ גוים‬is used to denote groups of non-Jewish individuals, Tannaitic literature bears witness to a further development, one that brings us back to the oddness of the usage as noted above. In this development, the singular ‫ גוי‬comes to be used not of a single nation but of a single non-Jewish individual.24 The most well-known example is the injunction of Rabbi Judah: “A man must recite three benedictions every day,” the first of which is “Praised [be Thou, O Lord …] who did not make me a gentile [‫( ”]גוי‬t. Ber. 6.18).25 As was observed above, the secondary use of ‫ גוים‬and ἔθνη to refer to individuals was awkward, in that there was no corresponding singular form; ‫ גוי‬and ἔθνος unambiguously denoted a single nation or people group. This rabbinic use of ‫גוי‬ represented one solution to the problem, but there is no evidence of this semantic development in the earlier period. It should be noted, however, that alternatives were readily available; both Hebrew and Greek contained other terms denoting individual non-Jews, 21. Translations of the Pseudepigrapha follow OTP. 22. Translation by Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar and Florentino García Martínez, The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 1:315–16. 23. Translations from the Tosefta follow Jacob Neusner, The Tosefta: Translated from the Hebrew with a New Introduction, 2 vols. (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2002). 24. On the significance of this rabbinic development, see Ishay Rosen-Zvi and Adi Ophir, “Goy: Toward a Genealogy,” DI 28 (2011): 69–122. 25. Other Tannaitic examples: t. Ber. 5.31; t. Pe’ah 2.9–11; t. Demai 4.25–27; 6.12, 13; t. Pesah. 2.12; t. Sheqal. 3.11; t. Meg. 2.16; t. Yevam. 14.7; Mek. 1.9.34–37 (on Exod 12:16); 1.15.19–20 (on Exod 12:43).



Matthew 28:19 Revisited 177

both in the singular and plural (e.g., ‫ נכרי‬and ‫ בן־נכר‬in Hebrew; ἀλλογενής and ἀλλόφυλος in Greek). That this use of ἔθνη and ‫( גוים‬i.e., to denote individual non-Jews) developed and persisted seems to suggest that the terms had crystallized as categorical terms for the non-Jewish other to such an extent that generic terms for “foreigners” simply were not adequate to express the covenantal binary. By denoting individual non-Jews as ‫ גוים‬or ἔθνη, these texts characterize them as members of “the (non-Jewish) nations.” What this choice of designation accomplished was to link these groups of non-Jewish individuals with that scriptural category—“the nations” (‫הגוים‬, τὰ ἔθνη)— which, more than any other, served to give Israel its distinct identity. In other words, even where the terms denoted individual non-Jews, their identity as members of non-Jewish nations continued to hover over the usage. What then of Matt 28:19? Is the postresurrection mission of the disciples directed at nations or individuals? While the question is rarely raised or addressed,26 it is significant. If individuals are unambiguously in view, then an exclusive reading of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη (“all the non-Jews”) is almost certainly required. For wherever ἔθνη is used with respect to individuals, it is always non-Jewish individuals who are in view. As we have seen, both senses of ἔθνη—that is, as non-Jewish individuals and as non-Jewish nations—are present in Jewish usage, often in close proximity, which means that the issue needs to be decided contextually and on a case-by-case basis. Nevertheless, it is worth noting in advance

26. Typically the exegetical issue posed by πάντα τὰ ἔθνη is perceived simply as an alternative between “nations” and “gentiles,” with little recognition that ἔθνη presents an alternative in itself (i.e., between “gentile individuals” and “gentile nations”), even though there is often a lot of unrecognized slippage between the two in the discussion of the issue. See, e.g., W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 3:684; Luz, Matthew, 3:628–30. The situation is similar in Konradt’s treatment, though for him the issue does not have any ultimate bearing on the ongoing significance of Israel (Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 311–17). Hare and Harrington recognize that ἔθνη could refer to either non-Jewish nations or non-Jewish individuals: “These terms would convey the notion of that whole collective of nations (the Gentile nations) other than Israel as well as those individual non-Jews (the Gentiles) who made up that collective” (“Make Disciples of All the Gentiles,” 361). However, they do not bring this observation to bear on the question of whether πάντα τὰ ἔθνη is to be read inclusively or exclusively. The question does have a significant part to play, however, in Levine’s discussion of the passage; see Levine, Social and Ethnic Dimensions, 185–92, esp. 191–92.

178

Terence L. Donaldson

that the addition of πάντα does not necessarily change things; that is, πάντα τὰ ἔθνη can be used with reference to (non-Jewish) individuals. In 1 Macc 5:37–44, for example, we read of a battle between Judas’s army and enemy forces in the Transjordan. The outcome was decisive: “πάντα τὰ ἔθνη [i.e., all the non-Jewish enemy soldiers] were defeated before him, and they threw away their arms and fled” (v. 43). Admittedly, unlike Matt 28:19, where, if “all the ethnē” refers to non-Jewish individuals, it does so in a general and total way, in 1 Maccabees 5:43 a very specific and limited group of ethnē are in view. Still, the occurrence is not without significance; πάντα τὰ ἔθνη can denote (non-Jewish) individuals.27 Turning more directly to Matthew, the issue would be clearer if the gospel contained an unambiguous instance where ἔθνη denoted (nonJewish) individuals. Nevertheless, there are at least two instances where the usage is at least possible and perhaps probable.28 First, let us consider 6:32: “For it is the ethnē [τὰ ἔθνη] who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.” While the sense of the term is ambiguous when the verse is taken in isolation, we find similar statements in 5:47 (“Do not even the Gentiles do the same?”) and 6:7 (“And in praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do”). The term in the latter two instances, however, is οἱ ἐθνικοί, the substantive of an adjective formed from ἔθνος. Matthew also uses the singular form in 18:17 (“let such a one be to you as a Gentile [ὁ εθνικὸς] and a tax collector”). The term ἐθνικός is thus an alternative to τὰ ἔθνη in its individual sense, denoting a non-Jewish individual in the singular and non-Jewish individuals in the plural. Matthew’s use of the plural form in 5:47 and 6:2, in statements that are formally similar to one that appears a little later (6:32), at least opens up the possibility that τὰ ἔθνη in the latter is synonymous with οἱ ἐθνικοί in the former; that is, that it refers to a plurality of non-Jewish individuals. A second instance appears in the so-called parable of the sheep and the goats (25:31–45). In this depiction of the final judgment, πάντα τὰ ἔθνη are gathered before the Son of Man, who is seated “on the throne of 27. The passage from 4QIsaiah Pesher discussed above (4Q161 8–10 1–4) provides another example. 28. A third possible instance is Matt 10:5–6: “Do not go into a road of the ἔθνη or into a city of the Samaritans, but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (10:5–6).” That individuals are in view in the second clause (lost sheep) might suggest that individuals rather than nations are in view in the first clause as well.



Matthew 28:19 Revisited 179

his glory” (v. 31). (Here we are concerned not with the addition of πάντα but with the question of whether τὰ ἔθνη denotes individuals or nations.) As the depiction of the scene unfolds, we are told that the Son of Man “will separate them one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at his left” (vv. 32–33). These two groups are later described as “the righteous ones” (v. 37) and “the accursed ones” (v. 41), respectively. Given the nature of the scene and the terms in which it is depicted, it is difficult to imagine that what are being sorted into two groups are whole nations. Are we to imagine that whole nations can be categorized as righteous or as accursed?29 Further, the criteria on which the categorization is carried out have to do with individual actions; it is difficult to imagine nations, for example, visiting people in prison. Indeed, the shift from the neuter plural noun in the first clause of verse 32 (“πάντα τὰ ἔθνη will be gathered before him”) to the masculine plural pronoun in the second (“and he will separate them [αὐτούς] one from another”) provides a clear signal that those who are gathered for judgment are seen primarily as individuals rather than as ethnic people groups.30 From this point on, the scene unfolds as a dialogue between the Son of Man and two groups of individuals. When we come to the specific case of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in 28:19, then, it is at least possible that the command of the risen Jesus is to “make disciples of all the members of non-Jewish nations.” This possibility becomes a probability when we take a closer look at the passage. The first thing to observe is the same shift from the neuter plural τὰ ἔθνη to the masculine plural αὐτούς that we observed in Matt 25:32: μαθητεύσατε πάντα τὰ ἔθνη, βαπτίζοντες αὐτοὺς … διδάσκοντες αὐτοὺς.31 As in the earlier instance, the shift to the masculine plural pronoun seems to suggest that the command to make disciples of “all the ethnē” has to do with individuals rather than nations. One immediate consequence of this is that the passage as a whole then has to do with two groups of (represen29. To be sure, the judgment of “all nations” in 2 Bar. 72.2–6 seems to involve nations as nations. Although the statement in 72.2 is consistent with an individual interpretation (“he will call all nations, and some of them he will spare, and others he will kill”), the criterion on which the judgment is based—whether a nation has “known Israel” and has “trodden down the seed of Jacob”—is one that pertains to nations rather than to individuals. 30. So Levine, Social and Ethnic Dimensions, 191–92. 31. Also observed by Levine; see previous note.

180

Terence L. Donaldson

tative) individuals: the new disciples, drawn from “all the ethnē”; and the eleven (Jewish) disciples.That individuals are in view here is borne out by the specific character of the discipling mission. Making disciples, baptizing, teaching—all three activities have to do with individuals rather than ethnic people groups, and the shift to a personal pronoun (in place of a neuter) is the natural grammatical reflection of this.32 The verb μαθητεύω appears on two other occasions in Matthew. Both of them have to do with individuals—the “scribe who has been discipled for the kingdom of heaven” in 13:52; and Joseph of Arimathea in 27:57. This is fully to be expected: in Matthew a disciple is one who, by definition, is bound closely to a teacher (“it is enough for a disciple to be like his teacher” [10:25]), something that is also reflected in the fact that most occurrences of μαθηταί are followed by a genitive form (John’s disciples; Jesus’s disciples; his disciples; your disciples). In short, μαθητεύω denotes a process by which a person becomes bound in a particular relationship with a teacher. When the verb takes a direct object, then, the meaning of the term almost certainly requires that the object denote one or more individuals.33 Similar considerations apply to the other two activities. Baptism is something that is undergone by individuals, one at a time.34 While one might imagine nations being taught (see Isa 2:2–3), the close connection between teaching and discipleship in the gospel strongly implies that individuals are in view here as well. Thus, in Matt 28:19–20 the mission activity of discipling, baptizing, and teaching is almost certainly to be understood as activity directed toward individuals. The countable group of disciples that meets with the risen Jesus on the mountain in Galilee (28:16) is commanded to carry out 32. In 10:18 (“as a testimony to the ethnē”) and 24:14 (“as a testimony to all the ethnē”), where ethnē functions as the implied object of the action denoted by μαρτύριον, “nations” is a possible translation. One can imagine testifying to the nations; the verb denotes an action that could be directed at “nations.” Likewise, one can imagine someone “proclaim[ing] justice to the nations” (12:18). The nature of the action is the determiner here. 33. So Hare and Harrington: “The verb mathēteuein would normally apply to individuals, not to national collectives” (“Make Disciples of All the Gentiles,” 368); Levine: “Like the command to make disciples, the injunction to baptize [βαπτίζω] requires an application to individuals” (Social and Ethnic Dimensions, 191). 34. Matthew’s statement that “Jerusalem, all Judea and all the region of the Jordan were going out to him [John] and were being baptized” (3:5–6) does not really serve as counterevidence.



Matthew 28:19 Revisited 181

a mission that will add further disciples to their number. Yet the target of this mission activity is denoted as πάντα τὰ ἔθνη. This strongly implies that τὰ ἔθνη here is to be taken in the distinctive Jewish sense of “members of non-Jewish nations.” This is the only semantic sphere in which τὰ ἔθνη denotes individuals rather than ethnic people groups. 2.2. Inclusive or Exclusive? If this conclusion holds—that is, that πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in 28:19 denotes “members of the non-Jewish nations”—then the phrase does not have an inclusive sense (all the nations, including Israel). In this section, however, we will set this probable conclusion to one side and address the second alternative on its own terms: Does πάντα τὰ ἔθνη denote all the nations, Israel included, or does it denote only the non-Jewish nations? Is the term inclusive or exclusive? As has already been noted, Matthew clearly does use the unmodified noun τὰ ἔθνη in an exclusive way. To be more precise, in every occurrence of τὰ ἔθνη as a stand-alone term, it denotes non-Jews.35 The question, then, is whether the addition of πάντα serves to give the phrase an inclusive sense: “all the ethnē, Israel included.” A survey of the occurrences of this phrase in literature other than the Gospel of Matthew indicates that, in almost every pertinent case, the phrase is used exclusively—“all the (non-Jewish) ethnē.” There are some possible exceptions,36 and we will look at them in due course. But the exclusive sense of the phrase—“all the (non-Jewish) ethnē”—clearly needs to be seen as the default reading. Before turning to this, however, two preliminary comments need to be made about the qualifier pertinent. First, we are interested in πάντα τὰ ἔθνη where it is used (as it is in Matt 28:19) as a stand-alone phrase—that is, without modifiers (such as restrictive relative clauses) that would limit or restrict the sense of the phrase in some way. This is not to suggest that the situation would change if such modified forms were included; in every such instance the ethnē in question are clearly distinct from Israel.37 35. In addition to 10:5, which has already been mentioned, the term also appears in 4:15; 6:32; 10:18; 12:18, 21; 20:19, 25. 36. Konradt provides the most complete list of these (Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 312 n. 256), though in what follows I have added a few others. 37. For example, “all the nations whom the Lord had removed from before the sons of Israel (LXX 2 Chr 33:9); “all the nations that come against Jerusalem” (Zech 12:9).

182

Terence L. Donaldson

But our question has to do with the phrase in its absolute form. Second, while non-Jews could (naturally) use the phrase in an inclusive way (i.e., with Israel included, at least implicitly, among the ethnē), such occurrences have little direct bearing on our question.38 Our question is whether the addition of πάντα serves to shift the meaning of τὰ ἔθνη from “the nonJewish nations” to “the nations, Israel included.” So, the occurrences that are pertinent are those that appear in Jewish or early Christian39 writings. In the Greek version of Israel’s Scriptures, πάντα τὰ ἔθνη appears some 115 times,40 of which fifteen are modified in some way; in other words, the stand-alone phrase appears one hundred times. In seven of these cases (five separate passages), it is possible that the nation of Israel is included (LXX Isa 56:7; LXX Jer 35:11, 14 [= MT 28:11, 14]; OG Dan 3:2, 7; 4:37 [twice]; 6:26); we will discuss these in turn below. In the remaining ninety-four cases, however, the phrase is to be read as “all the non-Jewish ethnē.” The phrase appears an additional nine times in the Apocrypha; in all but one instance, Israel is clearly excluded (Tob 3:4; 13:5; 14:6; 1 Macc 4:11; 3 Macc 7:4; Sir 36:1; Ep Jer 1:50 [6:51]; Pr Azar 1:14.).41 In addition, a further twenty-two (or so) occurrences of the stand-alone phrase can be identified in other literature of the Second Temple period; all of these denote the nations other than Israel (πάντα τὰ ἔθνη: T. Levi 14.1–2, 4; 15.1–2; Pss. Sol. 17.34–35. ‫כול הגוים‬: 1QpHab III, 4–6; 1QpHab VIII, 5; 1QM XV, 1–2; XVI, 1; XIX, 10; 1Q27 1, 3–12; 4Q299 10, 3; 4Q378 3 I, 9; 4Q504 1–2 III, 2–7; 1–2 IV, 2-12; m. Ned. 3:11).42 While the use of ἔθνη as an identity term in early

38. For non-Jewish use of the term, e.g., Cicero describes Pompey as “the conqueror of all the nations [omnium gentium]” (Pis. 16); Maecenas, offering advice to Agrippa as to Senate appointments, suggests that he select them “not only from Italy but also from allied and subject peoples,” for in so doing “you will place the chief men from all the nations [ἐξ ἁπάντων τῶν ἐθνῶν] in security” (Cassius Dio, Hist. Rom. 52.19.3). There is no evidence to suggest that non-Jewish authors were aware of the special Jewish use of the term. 39. The later interpreters cited by Luz are too late to be pertinent; see Luz, Matthew, 3:629. 40. Most of these render ‫ ;כול הגוים‬in any case, similar conclusions can be drawn about the Hebrew text. 41. The single exception is Jdt 3:8. In addition, the phrase also appears with reference to specific local groups of gentiles (e.g., 1 Macc 1:42; 2:18–19; 5:43; etc.). 42. In the remaining instances—1 En. 10.21; 2 En. 70.7; 2 Bar. 72.2, 5; Jub. 12.23; 18.16; 22.11—the works have survived only in translation; still, there can be little doubt that they render the Hebrew (or perhaps Aramaic) term.



Matthew 28:19 Revisited 183

Christian literature requires more attention than we can devote to it here,43 the use of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη conforms to the picture that has emerged already. The phrase occurs twenty times in New Testament material. If we set aside the four Matthean occurrences, together with one Markan parallel (Mark 13:10 = Matt 24:14), all but two of the remaining fifteen have a clear exclusive sense. One of the two (Mark 11:17) is a citation of Isa 56:7, which is one of the possible exceptions identified already; the other possible exception is Luke 24:47. A further five occurrences appear in the Apostolic Fathers (1 Clem 59.4 [ἅπαντα τὰ ἔθνη]; 2 Clem. 13.2; 17.4; Barn. 9.5; Herm. Sim. 9.17.3 [94.3]); none of them have an inclusive sense. What, though, of the possible exceptions? Eight passages have been identified:44 LXX Isa 56:7; LXX Jer 35:11, 14 (= MT 28:11, 14); OG Dan 3:2, 7; 4:37 (twice); 6:26; Jdt 3:8; Mark 11:17; Luke 24:47. We will look at them in turn. The statement in LXX Isa 56:7 has to do with the aliens (οἱ ἀλλογενείς) who, along with others “who keep my sabbaths so as not to profane them and hold fast to my covenant,” will be invited to worship at the temple in Jerusalem, “ ‘for my house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations [πᾶσιν τοῖς ἔθνεσιν; Hebrew: ‫]כל־העמים‬,’ said the Lord, who gathers the dispersed of Israel” (vv. 6–8).45 Certainly, this is an inclusive scene: aliens—members of foreign nations—will worship together with reassembled Israel. Logically, then, “all the nations” could have an inclusive sense; members of other nations join with the nation of Israel to worship

43. The term can be used with reference to the non-Jewish world generally (e.g., “the gospel I proclaim among the ethnē” [Gal 2:2]); to non-Jewish Christ-believers (e.g., Rom 11:13); to the former identity of non-Jewish Christ believers (e.g., 1 Cor 12:2; 1 Pet 4:3); and to non-Jews as outsiders to the Christ community (1 Cor 5:1; Eph 4:17; 1 Thess 4:5; 1 Pet 2:12; 2 Clem. 13.2; frequently in the Shepherd of Hermas). Subsequently, Christian apologists fully embraced ethnē in the sense of non-Jewish nations as an identity term; see, e.g., Terence L. Donaldson, “ ‘We Gentiles’: Ethnicity and Identity in Justin Martyr,” EC 4 (2013): 213–41. 44. The phrase appears twice in the same context in three passages: LXX Jer 35:11, 14; OG Dan 3:2, 7; 4:37. Davies and Allison take OG Dan 7:14 (where πάντα τὰ ἔθνη τῆς γῆς were given to the one like a son of man) in an inclusive sense; Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:684. But since in the parallel passage (v. 27) the universal sovereignty is given “to the holy people of the Most High [λαῷ ἁγίῳ ὑψίστου],” πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in v. 14 almost certainly should be read in an exclusive sense. 45. Translations of the LXX follow NETS, with my own occasional adaptation for clarity or emphasis.

184

Terence L. Donaldson

the Lord. Nevertheless, this is not where the emphasis falls. The clause in question (“for my house shall be called a house of prayer for all the ethnē”) is subordinate to a main clause that has to do with non-Jews: “I will bring them into my holy mountain and make them joyful in my house of prayer; their whole burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be acceptable on my altar.” This, coupled with the reference to Israel that follows (“who gathers the dispersed of Israel”), suggests that the distinction between Israel and “all the ethnē” remains in place. Further support for this conclusion is provided by the use of λαός with reference to Israel in verse 3 and the fact that the other fifteen occurrences of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in Isaiah denote “all the non-Jewish nations.” In other words, the thrust of the whole passage is that members of the non-Jewish nations are invited to share in Israel’s worship rather than that Israel is being designated as one of the larger group of nations joining together in worship. While the phrase could possibly be read in an inclusive way, the inclusion would be peripheral at best; Israel’s special status is by no means dissolved into a homogeneous collection of ethnē. LXX Jer 35:11–14 (= MT 28:11–14) presents us with a similar case. In the larger context (starting with ch. 34), Jeremiah had placed a wooden yoke around his own neck as a symbolic way of reinforcing his message that that God had “given the earth to King Nabouchodonosor of Babylon to be subject to him” and that any nation that did not “put their neck under the yoke of the king of Babylon” would suffer dire consequences (34:6, 8). After crushing Jeremiah’s yoke, the false prophet Hananiah declared that within two years God would “crush the yoke of the king of Babylon from the necks of all the nations [πάντων τῶν ἐθνῶν]” (35:11). Replacing the wooden yoke with a yoke of iron, Jeremiah replied: “Thus did the Lord say, ‘I have put an iron yoke on the neck of all the nations [πάντων τῶν ἐθνῶν] so that they might work for the king of Babylon’ ” (35:14). The nation of Judah certainly is not excluded from consideration here. Jeremiah urges King Sedekias to submit to the king of Babylon (34:12); anything that he says in general terms about “the nation” that does (34:11) or does not (34:8) submit to Babylon applies to Judah as well. At the same time, however, when he refers to Judah as a whole, he uses “people” rather than “nation”: “I spoke to you and all this people [πάντι τῷ λαῷ τουτῷ] and the priests” (34:16). Further, when the yoke imagery is first introduced it is non-Jewish nations that are in view: Jeremiah had first put the yoke around his neck as part of a message that he sent to the kings of surrounding nations (Idumea, Moab, Ammon, Tyre,



Matthew 28:19 Revisited 185

Sidon; 34:2).46 In keeping with this, in the message that God instructs Jeremiah to deliver to Hananiah, “all the nations” are then referred to in the third person (“so that they might work for the king of Babylon”; 35:14), which might be taken to imply that the term refers primarily to the other nations. Further, the other six occurrences of the phrase in Jeremiah denote non-Jewish nations. In sum, while what is true of “all the nations” in this passage is true of Judah as well, there is little indication that Judah is being explicitly and deliberately lumped together with Idumea, Moab, and the rest simply as one of “all the ethnē.” The next four passages can be treated together, in that in each of them the phrase “all the nations” is either spoken by a gentile king or at least reflects his point of view. In each case, while the Jewish nation is included within “all the ethnē” who are subject to the king, the Jewish author is replicating the perspective of the non-Jewish character rather than redefining the usual Jewish use of the term. OG Daniel 3:1–7 has to do with the dedication of the golden image that was erected by king Nebuchadnezzar. To this event the king summoned “all the nations [πάντα τὰ ἔθνη] and tribes and languages, satraps, generals, local rulers and magistrates” and so on (v. 2), who subsequently offered the required obeisance to the image (v. 7). OG Daniel 4:37 contains the letter that Nebuchadnezzar sent to “all the nations [πᾶσι τοῖς ἔθνεσι] and all the countries and all the inhabitants in them” (v. 37c), recounting what had happened to him during his seven years of madness.47 OG Daniel 6:26 has to do with the letter that Darius sent “to all the nations [πᾶσι τοῖς ἔθνεσι] and all countries and countries and languages,” commanding them to “do obeisance and worship Daniel’s God” (v. 27). While the Jews might have received the letter as well, presumably the command was redundant in their case. Finally, Jdt 3:8 recounts the commission that Holofernes had received to destroy all the gods of the lands he conquered, “so that all the nations [πάντα τὰ ἔθνη] should worship Nebuchadnezzar alone.” As with the previous three cases, the term simply reflects the non-Jewish perspective of the character and thus has little bearing on its use from a Jewish perspective. The final two cases appear in the New Testament. Mark 11:17 contains a citation of Isa 56:7, a text cited above. Since there is very little indication of how the phrase might relate to the Markan narrative in which it is 46. Or does the awkwardly placed phrase πρὸς Σεδεκιαν βασιλέα Ιουδα (34:3) stand in parallel somehow with the preceding πρός phrases? 47. The phrase also appears twice in the same context with modifiers (4:37b, c).

186

Terence L. Donaldson

embedded,48 there is very little to add to the previous discussion (i.e., of Isa 56:7). Luke 24:47, however, represents the strongest case for an inclusive use of the term: “repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed … to all the ethnē [πάντα τὰ ἔθνη], beginning from Jerusalem.” Although there is some uncertainty as to whether the phrase in question belongs with this sentence or with the next one (i.e., “Beginning from Jerusalem, you are witnesses of these things”),49 the issue remains largely the same. Proclamation (or witness) in Jerusalem necessarily involves a proclamation to Jews, something that is borne out in the subsequent narrative in Acts. It seems clearly to be the case that here “all the ethnē” includes the nation of the Jews. This does not mean, however, that for Luke Israel has lost its special status and has been absorbed into a homogeneous mass of nations; the distinction between Jews and gentiles is clearly maintained throughout the remainder of Luke-Acts. Further, it should be noted that the other three instances of the phrase in Luke-Acts are exclusive (“all the non-Jewish ethnē”; Luke 21:30; Acts 14:16; 15:17). Nevertheless, in contrast to the other texts described above, in this case the inclusion of Judea is explicit. Turning back to Matthew, then, we can say that, while an inclusive sense is possible for πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in 28:19, this reading needs to bear the burden of proof. An examination of Jewish literature where τὰ ἔθνη is used in its distinctive Jewish sense reveals that, in the overwhelming majority of cases, the addition of πάντα does not change things. The default rendering of the phrase is “all the non-Jewish ethnē”; only if there are compelling reasons should it be read as inclusive of Israel.50 The phrase πάντα τὰ ἔθνη appears three other times in Matthew (24:9, 14; 25:32). For present purposes, it is not essential that we look at these occurrences in detail. As we have seen from the evidence in Luke-Acts, the 48. Is the point that the buying and selling was taking place in the court of the gentiles? If so, then the verse is not a possible exception. If not, then the point may have to do with the contrast between “house of prayer” and “den of robbers,” in which case the phrase “all the ethnē” may simply be an unstressed part of the text being cited. 49. On the basis of usual text-critical considerations, the preferred reading is ἀρξάμενοι, which would then be linked grammatically with the following nominative ὑμεῖς. 50. See von Dobbeler: “Da schließlich ἔθνη im zeitgenössischen Judentum wie im NT vornehmlich die Gesamtheit der Heidenvölker im Unterschied zu Israel bezeichnet, gibt es keinen überzeugenden Grund dafür, daß ausgerechnet die πάντα τὰ ἔθνη– Stellen des MtEv anders verstanden werden müßten” (“Die Restitution Israels,” 31–32).



Matthew 28:19 Revisited 187

term can be used both inclusively (Luke 24:47) and exclusively (Luke 12:30; Acts 14:16; 15:17) in the same document. Further, attempts to establish a uniform usage of the phrase in Matthew have proved to be quite inconclusive.51 As Levine has observed, Matthean usage of the phrase needs to be determined on a case-by-case basis.52 What then of Matt 28:19? Certainly the possibility of an inclusive sense cannot simply be dismissed out of hand; while the “authority” of the risen Jesus (v. 18) might have a cosmic dimension (“in heaven and on earth”) that it did not have before (see “authority on earth” in 9:6), it is clear that his earthly authority included Israel.53 Nevertheless, this reading would have to bear the burden of proof; the exclusive sense remains the default position. As Levine has observed, the most compelling evidence in favor of the exclusive sense (“all the gentiles”) is the evidently close relationship between the two mission commands in Matthew.54 All participants in the debate recognize that the mission command in 28:18–20 needs to be read in conjunction with the one in 10:5–6—either expanding it (“all the nations, including Israel”), replacing it (“all the non-Jewish ethnē”) or, more recently, running in parallel with it. What has not been sufficiently recognized, however, is that ἔθνη appears in the first command as well, and in an unambiguously exclusive sense: “do not go into the road of the nonJewish ethnē [ἐθνῶν].” Reading the two commands in juxtaposition—“do not go to the ethnē” // “go and make disciples of all the ethnē”—we should hardly expect that the sense of the term should shift from one to the other, especially since the first instance represents the standard meaning. While the second command obviously represents a change in the scope of the disciples’ mission, the change has to do with the elimination of the prohibitory μή rather than with a shift in denotation. Further, to return to a point touched on in the previous section, the binary distinction between Jews and non-Jews, Israel and the nations, is

51. As Konradt has concluded: Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 312–16. 52. Levine, Social and Ethnic Dimensions, 225. For my part, while I think that the phrase has an exclusive sense in Matt 25:32, I am prepared to see an inclusive sense in 24:14 (where the sense of πᾶσιν τοῖς ἔθνεσιν seems to be determined by ὁλῃ τῇ οἰκουμένῃ) and perhaps in 24:9 as well. 53. See the statements about Jesus’s ἐξουσία in Matt 7:29; 8:9; 9:6, 8; 21:23–27; see 10:1, where Jesus gives the disciples authority for their mission to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” 54. Levine, Social and Ethnic Dimensions, 190–91.

188

Terence L. Donaldson

present in 28:16–20 as well. The passage has to do not only with “all the ethnē” but also with “the disciples”: you go and make disciples of “all the ethnē”; you teach them to observe Jesus’s commands; you baptize them. This group of disciples who gather to Jesus on the mountain in Galilee represent a distinct entity in the Matthean narrative. They (now eleven rather than twelve) are the ones who will “sit on twelve thrones, judging55 the twelve tribes of Israel” (19:28); they are the ones to carry out (and carry on) the mission to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. More than just being a collection of individual disciples of Jesus, they have representational significance. Closely aligned with Israel (“the twelve tribes of Israel”; “the house of Israel”), they thus stand as the binary counterpart to “all the non-Jewish ethnē.” Thus, the fact that the postresurrection mission to “all the ethnē” is carried out by a group that (in Matthew’s world, at least) carries with it the identity of Israel strongly suggests that the ethnē are to be seen as Israel’s binary counterpart—the non-Jewish ethnē. Both lines of consideration, then, lead to the same conclusion. It is probable that πάντα τὰ ἔθνη refers to the non-Jewish ethnē. It is equally probable that πάντα τὰ ἔθνη denotes a plurality of individuals rather than of ethnic people groups; since it is only in the exclusive sense that the phrase refers to individuals, this conclusion implies that non-Jews are probably in view. Thus, I take it as probable that Matthew’s Gospel ends with the command to “make disciples of all members of the non-Jewish nations.” I take this conclusion to be probable rather than certain; I do not think that the inclusive sense is beyond the realm of possibility.56 Nevertheless, the evidence in favor of the exclusive sense is compelling. 3. Implications If Matt 28:19–20 is to be read as a command to “make disciples of all nonJewish ethnē” rather than “of all ethnē, Israel included,” what does this imply for our reading of Matthew’s Gospel as a whole? The question read55. The term should probably be understood not in the narrow sense of judicial condemnation but as having to do more broadly with the ongoing exercise of ruling authority; so Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:55–56; Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 26 n. 79 and passim. 56. But as has been observed with respect to the instances where an inclusive reading of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη is possible, none of these instances implies that Israel’s special status has been dissolved into a homogeneous collection of ethnē.



Matthew 28:19 Revisited 189

ily leads into a web of related issues in Matthean interpretation. Here I will limit myself to issues on which an exclusive reading of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη would have a direct bearing. In the case of my first two observations, I think that the implications are quite clear. With respect to the other two observations, the exclusive reading raises questions that I continue to wrestle with. 1. To begin with, this reading by no means implies that Matthew has to be read as an expression of “gentile bias”—a story of God’s rejection of Israel and the transfer of God’s saving favor to the gentile church. For one thing, as has just been noted, the mission to the gentiles is to be carried out by Jewish disciples, a group that stands in a close representational relationship with Israel as a whole. Any gentiles who become disciples also become part of a community with Jewish disciples at its core, as teachers and leaders. For another, as has been demonstrated especially by Konradt, there are persuasive reasons for rejecting any rejection/replacement reading of Matthew, all of which retain their full force whatever decision is made about the sense of πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in 28:19.57 It will be sufficient here to list these briefly: (1) The mission to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (10:5–6) is to continue until the coming of the Son of Man (10:23).58 Since the coming of the Son of Man is synonymous with “the end of the age” (28:20), the two missions are coterminous. They are also, as von Dobbeler has argued, complementary.59 (2) What makes the mission to the gentiles possible is the exaltation of Jesus to a position of universal authority (28:18–19). This, and not any putative rejection of Israel, provides the stated grounds for the gentile mission (“go therefore”).60 (3) Matthew consistently differentiates “the crowds” (οἱ ὄχλοι, equated with “the lost sheep of the house of Israel” [see 9:36]) from the Jewish leaders.61 Statements about the leaders cannot be taken as applying to the people as a whole. (4) Matthew’s hopeful attitude toward the crowds does not come to an end with the cry of “all the

57. These reasons are set out in a preliminary way in ch. 1; see Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 1–15. 58. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 74–84, 316–17. See also Levine, Social and Ethnic Dimensions, 83; Sim, Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism, 237; Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain, 207. 59. Von Dobbeler, “Die Restitution Israels,” 23, 27–28. 60. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 307. See also Levine, Social and Ethnic Dimensions, 393–94; Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain, 209–10. 61. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 89–101.

190

Terence L. Donaldson

people [πᾶς ὁ λαός]” in 27:25. The anxiety expressed by the leaders that the disciples might steal the body and tell “the people” (τῷ λαῷ) that Jesus had been raised from the dead (27:64) serves as an ironic negative reflection of Matthew’s own hopeful and positive attitude.62 Thus, a reading of the mission command in 28:18–20 as having to do with “all the gentiles” (rather than “all the nations, Israel included”) does not require us to read the gospel as a story of rejection and replacement. Gentile mission does not necessarily imply gentile bias. 2. If Matthew envisages two ongoing, complementary, and coterminous missions—one to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” the other to “all the gentiles”—this means that, at some level, the categories Jew and gentile, or Israel and the non-Jewish ethnē, continue to have a significant place within the new ἐκκλησία of Jesus. For Matthew, then, the ἐκκλησία is a community comprising Jews and gentiles. At the center of the ἐκκλησία stands the group of Jewish disciples—“sheep of the house of Israel” who are no longer lost, harassed, helpless, and without a shepherd; gathered around them are the new group of gentile disciples, gathered from “all the non-Jewish ethnē.” To be sure, some have argued that, in Matthew’s view, gentiles who become disciples of Jesus thereby cease to be gentiles.63 The basis of this argument is Matthew’s use of ἐθνικός to denote an “outsider” (18:17; see 5:47; 6:7); some negative uses of ἔθνη move in the same direction (6:32; 20:25). Nevertheless, the fact that these terms can be used with reference to outsiders does not lead necessarily to the conclusion that nonJews who become disciples lose their identity as ethnē. “Gentiles [ἔθνη] will hope in his name,” says Matthew, applying the words of LXX Isa 42:4 to Jesus (Matt 12:21). Surely their identity as ethnē does not cease when they begin to hope. A scribe “who has been ‘disciplized’ for the kingdom of heaven” (μαθητευθείς, the same verb that appears in 28:19) continues to be a scribe (even though some new characteristics have been added to the 62. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 162. In addition to Konradt’s observation (“even after Jesus’ death, the authorities still fear the influence of the disciples on … the crowds”), it is also important to observe the ironic character of the passage; from the perspective of Matthew’s intended readers, this “last deception” (i.e., that the people would believe in the risen Jesus) was indeed “worse than the first” (i.e., many of the people had indeed done so). 63. “Matthew certainly did not consider those inside the ἐκκλησία to be Gentiles.” See Benjamin L. White, “The Eschatological Conversion of ‘All the Nations’ in Matthew 28.19–20: (Mis)Reading Matthew through Paul,” JSNT 36 (2014): 358; see also Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 348–49.



Matthew 28:19 Revisited 191

old). As a point of comparison, Paul can use the term both with respect to Christ believers (“I am speaking to you ethnē”; Rom 11:13) and to denote an identity that non-Jewish Christ believers have left behind (“when you were ethne”; 1 Cor 12:2; see 1 Cor 5:1). For Matthew, Jewish and gentile identities continue to exist within the new community. The ἐκκλήσια, then, is not to be seen as a homogeneous tertium quid—especially not a tertium quid that has superseded Israel as God’s “people” (2:6). 3. But this raises further questions about the relative status of Jews and gentiles within the new ἐκκλησία of Jesus. If Matthew envisages two ongoing, complementary, and coterminous missions, resulting in an ἐκκλησία of disciples drawn from both “the house of Israel” and “all the non-Jewish ethnē,” how are we to envisage his conception of membership in this new community? What are the conditions of entry into the ἐκκλήσια? What expectations are incumbent on members? More to the point, are there differences with respect to these terms of membership for Jews and gentiles? At first glance, the answer seems straightforward. Speaking to his Jewish disciples, the risen Jesus says that any new gentile disciples are “to observe everything that I have commanded you.” Jews and gentiles are apparently expected to follow the same set of commandments. By so doing, they are given the same status: they are disciples of Jesus (μαθηταί, v. 16; μαθητεύσατε, v. 19). Some interpreters have taken the position that this implies full adherence to the law of Moses, including circumcision and other ethnic-specific requirements of the torah. That is, they become proselytes to Judaism as well as disciples of Jesus.64 Support for this position is plausibly provided by a number of well-known statements by the Matthean Jesus: the law remains intact, down to a single letter or stroke of a letter, as long as heaven and earth endure (5:18); since the scribes and Pharisees sit on Moses’s seat, it is necessary to do and follow what they say (23:2–3); while there are weightier matters of the law (justice, mercy, and faith) that take priority, the rest of the law is not to be neglected (23:23). At the same time, however, proselytism was not the only way in which Jews in the first century were able to conceive of a place for non-Jews within their communal and symbolic worlds. If Matthew’s conception of the ἐκκλησία is a community comprising Jews and gentiles, then one 64. Especially Sim, Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism, 251–54; also, with some qualifications, Levine, Social and Ethnic Dimensions, 183–84; Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 350 (n. 16), 380; see also Runesson’s references in 372 n. 80.

192

Terence L. Donaldson

needs to recognize that there were other models of how non-Jews might relate positively to the God of Israel. In addition to proselytism, this set of models included the idea of “righteous gentiles” (a righteous status was available for gentiles who followed that part of the torah that pertained to them), ethical monotheism (gentiles were exhorted to follow the law, but the corresponding conception of the law was one in which ethical and monotheistic aspects were emphasized and ethnic-specific aspects downplayed), and participation in eschatological redemption (gentiles would share in the blessings that accompanied the redemption of Israel and the arrival of the age to come).65 In Matthew, a number of equally well-known statements (commands) of Jesus—his prioritization of the ethical aspects of the law over the minutiae of tithing (23:23) or over (ethnic-specific) cultic worship (9:13; 12:7), his summation of the law in ethical-monotheistic commandments (22:34–40) or moral maxims (7:12), and related material, together with his harsh criticism of proselytism (23:15)—might be seen as opening the door to alternative conceptions of how gentile disciples are to relate to the law of Moses.66 Matthew’s Gospel, then, presents us with a considerable element of ambiguity with respect to such questions. This ambiguity has given rise, of course, to the long-standing discussions having to do with “Matthew’s ecclesiology,” “Matthew and the law,” and related matters, which would take us into Matthean material not directly related to 28:18–20. My primary observation here is that, if 28:18–20 has to do with a mission to “all the non-Jewish ethnē,” then any resolution of these questions needs to be consistent with two aspects of 28:18–20, aspects that stand in a certain amount of tension: (1) Gentile disciples are expected to obey the same commandments that Jesus has given to his Jewish disciples. (2) The distinction between Jews and gentiles is not erased in the postresurrection era; the ἐκκλησία is made up of both Jewish and gentile disciples. Perhaps 65. I have documented these patterns in Terence L. Donaldson, Judaism and the Gentiles: Jewish Patterns of Universalism (to 135 CE) (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2007). 66. Saldarini, for example, appeals both to the phenomenon of Godfearers and to Jewish writings that emphasize ethical monotheism in his discussion of gentile disciples (Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 157–60). Both Konradt and White appeal to Isa 56:1–8 to interpret the gentile mission within an eschatological framework (though they differ on the issue of circumcision; White endorses the idea that gentile disciples were to be circumcised, and Konradt rejects it) (Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 321–23; White, “Eschatological Conversion,” 357, 367–71).



Matthew 28:19 Revisited 193

the way forward will begin with a recognition that the ambiguity is irreducible; that is, that it cannot be resolved in any univocal resolution of the tensions. I wonder whether the tensions can be understood as part of what might be called an exercise in constructive ambiguity—an attempt to hold different groups, with different understandings and practices, within a common ecclesial framework.67 4. My final observation—more of a question, actually—has to do with the relationship between the two missions, one to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (ch. 10) and the other to “all the non-Jewish ethnē” (28:18–20). In older readings of the gospel, the injunction in 28:18–20 represented the sole and definitive statement of the mission of the ἐκκλησία in the period between the resurrection and the end of the age. This was true on either reading of panta ta ethnē—inclusive (Israel as included within the scope of the mission) or exclusive (Israel replaced by the gentiles as the object of mission). But if the two mission commands represent missions that are parallel, coterminous, and ethnically differentiated, how are we to understand and correlate the terms on which each are to be carried out? There are similarities: both are carried out under the authority of Jesus (10:1; 28:18); the things that Jesus has commanded his disciples seem to be operative in both (28:20). But here the similarities appear to end. On one hand, baptism seems to apply only to gentiles; there is little evidence earlier in the gospel that Jewish disciples of Jesus were to be baptized, let alone in the threefold name. On the other, aspects of the first mission (e.g., “cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons”; 10:8) find no explicit counterpart in the second (unless they are somehow to be included with the things that Jesus had “commanded you”). Again, this is not the place to try to resolve the issue.68 My point—and this can serve as a conclusion to my paper as a whole—is that if πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in Matt 28:19

67. As an analogy, one might think of ecumenical statements or liturgical documents worded in such a way as to allow readers from different ecclesiastical traditions to interpret a common text in different ways. The eucharistic liturgy in the Anglican Church of Canada, for example, contains a phrase—“accept all we offer you this day”— that can be spoken in good faith both by Anglo-Catholics (who would understand the sacrament in sacrificial terms) and by evangelicals (who would limit the eucharistic offering to a “sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving).” The Matthean phrase “teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you” has a suggestively similar ring. 68. The issue has been recognized and discussed by von Dobbler (“Die Restitution Israels,” 34–41) and Konradt (Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, esp. 314–15).

194

Terence L. Donaldson

denotes non-Jews, then substantive work remains to be done to incorporate this passage into a coherent reading of the gospel as a whole.

Ethnic Identities in the Dead Sea Legal Papyri and Matthew: Reinterpreting Matthew 25:31–46 Philip F. Esler

1. The Dead Sea Legal Papyri Approximately one hundred legal papyri survive from Palestine in the period from 50 CE to 150 CE, most of them hidden in caves in consequence of the Judean War from 66 to 73 CE and the Bar Kokhba Revolt of 132 CE to 135 CE.1 About a third of these, and generally in a good state of preservation, are the documents of the Babatha archive, hidden in a cave in a wadi near ʿEin-Gedi, with other personal possessions, by the Judean woman Babatha in about 135 CE and discovered by Yigael Yadin’s team in 1961.2 The Greek documents (twenty-six in total) were published in 1989, and those in Nabatean Aramaic (six) and Judean Aramaic (three) in 2002.3 These papyri date from 94 CE to 132 CE. Almost all scholarly research into the Babatha documents so far has been by nonlawyer historians and has focused on their legal dimensions. 1. For a listing of these papyri, see Hannah Cotton, Walter E. H. Cockle, and Fergus G. B. Millar, “The Papyrology of the Roman Near East: A Survey,” JRS 95 (1995): 214–35. 2. The thirty-five papyri in the Babatha archive are usually referred to as P.Yadin 1–35, after the leader of the expedition that found them. 3. For the Greek papyri, see Naphtali Lewis, The Documents from the Bar Kohkba Period in the Cave of Letters: Greek Papyri and Aramaic and Nabatean Signatures and Subscriptions (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, Hebrew University of Jerusalem and the Shrine of the Book, 1989). For the Aramaic papyri, see Yigael Yadin, Jonas C. Greenfield, Ada Yardeni, and Baruch A. Levine, eds. The Documents from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters: Hebrew, Aramaic and Nabatean-Aramaic Papyri, JDS (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, Institute of Archaeology, Hebrew University and Shrine of the Book, Israel Museum, 2002).

-195-

196

Philip F. Esler

As someone who used to practice law, I am interested in the social world that they open up, in the uniquely revelatory manner of legal documents, where the parties’ concern to ensure the facts are stated correctly is not affected by issues of literary genre and religious faith. Babatha’s documents contain so much information about her and her family and the people she interacted with (sometimes in lawsuits) that we can say with complete confidence that we know more about her than any other Judean woman in antiquity. Central to the social world of the Babatha archive is the issue of ethnic identities. My approach to ethnicity derives from the self-ascriptional and processual approach of Fredrik Barth expressed in a now-classic essay published in 1969.4 An ethnic group’s sense of itself as a group came first, and it selected cultural features to express its identity and to create boundaries with out-groups that changed over time. Yet, those boundaries were permeable, that is, some interactions with outsiders were permitted or prescribed, and others were proscribed. Since Barth himself did not seek to identify a full range of typical indicators of ethnic identity, I have found it useful to apply those proposed by John Hutchinson and Anthony Smith (while understanding these indicators diagnostically not essentially to accord with Barth’s self-ascriptional approach): (1) a common proper name; (2) myth of common ancestry; (3) a shared history or shared memories of a common past; (4) a common culture, embracing such things as customs, language, and religious practice and belief; (5) a link with a homeland; and (6) a sense of communal solidarity.5 Babatha lived in Maoza, on the southern shore of the Dead Sea. Until 106 CE Maoza was in the kingdom of Nabatea, a few miles from the border with the Roman province of Judea. In 106, however, the Romans took over Nabatea and converted it into the province of Arabia. The earliest documents, P.Yadin 1–4, date from 94 to 99 CE. The ethnic profile is interesting. Thirty-two people figure in P.Yadin 1–4, as parties, witnesses, scribes, or relatives of these, and thirty-one of them are Nabatean. There is only one Judean mentioned: Shim‘on. Only in later documents do we learn that Shim‘on is the son of Menahem, husband of Miriam, and father of Babatha, while other Nabateans, as well as Judeans, Romans, and Greeks 4. Fredrik Barth, “Introduction,” in Ethnic Groups and Boundaries: The Social Organization of Culture Difference, ed. Barth (London: Allen & Unwin, 1969), 9–38. 5. John Hutchinson and Anthony Smith, “Introduction,” in Ethnicity, ed. Hutchinson and Anthony Smith (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), 6–7.



Reinterpreting Matthew 25:31–46 197

come into the picture. Shim‘on appears to have got on remarkably well with his Nabatean neighbors. When he came to purchase a date-palm plantation right on the Dead Sea shore in Maoza from a Nabatean woman in 99 CE (P.Yadin 3), all four witnesses were Nabatean, as was the scribe. It is unlikely that he was the only Judean in Maoza at that time, since P.Yadin 5 (dated 110 CE) is also from Maoza and mentions several. Shim‘on also had an extremely good relationship with a member of the Nabatean elite, Archelaus, a στρατηγός, or provincial governor, who helped him solidify his title to the date-palm orchard in a number of ways I have recently explained in my book Babatha’s Orchard.6 Papyri Yadin 8 and 9 were both drafted by the same scribe (a Judean, Yohanan son of Makkuta) and in the same year (122 CE), with P.Yadin 8 written in Judean Aramaic and P.Yadin 9 in Nabatean Aramaic. The former probably involved two Judeans and the latter a Judean and a Nabatean. In other words, a Judean was clearly content to have a document drafted in Nabatean Aramaic when the other party was a Nabatean. In addition, the scribe was quite at ease in moving between Judean and Nabatean Aramaic to put into effect the wishes of his clients. When Babatha’s first husband died, the council in the capital, Petra, appointed two guardians to look after his inheritance, one of them a Judean and the other a Nabatean. Also present were other ethnic groups, Roman, for example, and even Illyrian in the form of the centurion in an auxiliary unit stationed at ʿEin-Gedi who in 124 CE lent Babatha’s second husband the sum of sixty denarii for a year at the standard maximum Roman interest rate of 12 percent. This is P.Yadin 11. This all speaks of close commercial and legal relations between these two ethnic groups. One sees here the wisdom of Barth’s view that “ethnic distinctions do not depend on an absence of social interaction and acceptance, but are quite to the contrary often the very foundations on which embracing social systems are built.”7 While I strongly doubt that Judeans dined with or married Nabateans,8 there was nevertheless a whole range of interactions between them and no sign of ethnic tension or dislike. 6. Philp F. Esler, Babatha’s Orchard: The Yadin Papyri and an Ancient Jewish Family Tale Retold (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017). 7. Barth, “Introduction,”10. 8. For evidence of these prohibitions among classical authors, see Diodorus Siculus, Bib. hist. 34.1.2; Tacitus, Hist. 5.5.2. For Judean evidence, see Dan 1:3–17; Jdt 10–12; Esth 14:17; Tob 1:11; Jub. 22; Jos. Asen. 7.1; Letter of Aristeas, passim. Also see

198

Philip F. Esler

2. The Gospel of Matthew 2.1. General Considerations The Gospel of Matthew presupposes a context in which the initially dominant social entity is the people (λαός) Israel. Λαός is used of Israel on fourteen occasions in the gospel, beginning with the statement that Jesus “will save his people from their sins” (1:21).9 In the Matthean picture, at the time of Jesus’s birth this was a people settled on its own homeland and ruled by its own king. They had their own culture, which included religious practices and beliefs. Their land was called Ἰουδαῖα, and its people were called Ἰουδαῖοι. The μάγοι came from the East to Jerusalem, the capital of this kingdom, hoping to see the baby who had been born king of the Ἰουδαῖοι (2:1).10 Ἰουδαῖοι, accordingly, denotes an identity for which the most appropriate modern designation is “ethnic.” This is not a geographic indicator but an ethnic one, by which the people were named with respect to their ethnic homeland, like every other ethnic group in the ancient Mediterranean, whether they lived there or not. That is why we should translate Ἰουδαῖοι as “Judeans” and not “Jews.”11 We should also excise from our interpretation any notion that we are dealing with a “religion” bearing the name “Judaism.” As an increasing number of scholars have been pointing out for the past twenty years, most recently Brent Nongbri, Carlin Barton, and Daniel Boyarin,12 religion is an anachronism when applied to the ancient world. The Judeans were, withthe statements to like effect in Acts 10:28; 11:1–3. I discuss this whole issue in Philip F. Esler, Galatians, NTR (London: Routledge, 1998), 93–116. 9. These instances are: 1:21; 2:4, 6; 4:16, 23; 13:15; 15:8; 21:23; 26:3, 5, 47; 27:1, 25, 64. Unless otherwise indicated, all biblical translations follow the RSV. 10. For my extended argument on Matt 1–2, see Philip F. Esler, “Rival Group Identities in the Matthean Gospel: Evidence from Matthew 1–2 and 23,” in Conception, Reception and the Spirit: Essays in Honor of Andrew T. Lincoln, ed. J. Gordon McConville and Lloyd K. Pietersen (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2015), 19–35. 11. It is not possible to expand here on the complicated and interesting question of how today’s Jews understand their identity, but it is probably fair to say that there are a range of views that include claims of ethnic, religious, and cultural identity. 12. See Brent Nongbri, Before Religion: A History of a Modern Concept (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2015); Carlin A. Barton and Daniel Boyarin, Imagine No Religion: How Modern Abstractions Hide Ancient Realities (New York: Fordham University Press, 2016).



Reinterpreting Matthew 25:31–46 199

out doubt, a people with an intense relationship with their God, but that was only part of a larger identity best called ethnic. That type of identity is evident in the representation of his people by Josephus in Contra Apionem, written in the late first or early second century CE, roughly the time that Matthew was written.13 Accordingly, to my mind (and I acknowledge that others will disagree), to use the word Judaism in relation to this ethnic group in the first century CE is inappropriate. If Judaism is understood as a religion, it is anachronistic. If it is being understood ethnically, the designation has a problematic form: we do not refer to ethnic groups by words ending in -ism. These reasons propel me to diverge from my esteemed colleagues in this volume by questioning the notion of “Matthew within Judaism,” since this expression runs the risk of seeking to understand this gospel in relation to a type of group identity that did not exist in the ancient world. A better way of situating the discussion, in my view, would be as “Matthew in relation to the Judean ethnic group.” Yet, this was a world the Judeans shared with other peoples—called λαοί or ἔθνη or γένη—other ethnic groups, also named after their homeland. The harsher reality of this situation emerges in Matt 24:7 with Jesus’s grim prediction that ἔθνος will rise against ἔθνος, kingdom (βασιλεία) against kingdom. Matthew does not directly refer to Israel as an ἔθνος in his gospel.14 Yet when in 21:43 he says that the kingdom of God will be taken away from people, who are immediately after identified as the chief priests and Pharisees (v. 45), and given to an ἔθνος bearing its fruit, the fictive sense of ἔθνος here draws force from the underlying reality of Israel as an ἔθνος in the usual sense.15 The plural form of the word ἔθνη appears twelve times in the gospel (Matt 4:15; 6:32; 10:5, 18; 12:18, 21; 20:19, 25; 24:9, 14; 25:32; 28:19). Some prefer to translate it as “nations.” Others prefer “gentiles,” a Judeo-centric 13. Philip F. Esler, “Judean Ethnic Identity in Josephus’ Against Apion,” in A Wandering Galilean: Essays in Honour of Sean Freyne, ed. Zuleika Rodgers with Margaret Daly-Denton and Anne Fitzpatrick McKinley, JSJSup 132 (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 73–91. 14. For a discussion of ἔθνος and ἔθνη in relation to Matt 28:19, see the essay by Terence L. Donaldson in this volume. 15. For my extended argument on this verse, see Philip F. Esler, “Giving the Kingdom to an Ethnos That Will Bear Its Fruit: Ethnic and Christ-Movement Identities in Matthew,” in In the Fullness of Time: Essays on Christology, Creation, and Eschatology in Honor of Richard Bauckham, ed. Daniel M. Gurtner, Grant McCaskill, and Jonathan T. Pennington (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016), 177–96.

200

Philip F. Esler

way of denoting non-Judeans, as Christopher Stanley pointed out over twenty-five years ago.16 My preference, on most occasions at least, is for the former alternative, but on the basis that nation means an ethnic group possessing a monarchical polity and inhabiting its own land (and usually having diaspora populations as well). Pushing us in this direction are the three instances of ἔθνος in the singular just discussed, the expression “the leaders of the nations lord it over them” (20:25), and the fact that when Matthew wants Jesus to refer to non-Judeans as a collection of individuals he generally uses ἐθνικοί or ἐθνικός (at 5:47, 6:7; 18:17, although note ἔθνη at 6:32). In other publications on Matthew’s Gospel in the last five years, I have argued that the evangelist was writing for an audience that consisted of Judeans and non-Judeans united in mixed table fellowship of the sort Jesus had predicted to the centurion of Capernaum (Matt 8:10–12): “Truly, I say to you, not even in Israel have I found such faith. I tell you, many will come from east and west and sit at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the sons of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness; there men will weep and gnash their teeth.”17 Yet Matthew is careful to distinguish the time of Jesus’s ministry and the postresurrection period. During his ministry both Jesus (15:24) and his disciples (10:5) evangelized only to Israel, except for his interactions with the centurion of Capernaum (8:5–13) and the Canaanite woman (15:21–28). Those encounters seriously challenged Jesus’s initial ethnocentric outlook (shown by his use of the derogative expressions ἐθνικοί or ἐθνικός, as mentioned above) and compelled him to modify it.18 In his impressive monograph on Matthew, Matthias Konradt characterizes these two incidents as exceptional,19 but that misses their major significance in

16. Christopher Stanley, “ ‘Neither Jew nor Greek:’ Ethnic Conflict in GraecoRoman Society,” JSNT 64 (1992): 101–24. Daniel J. Harrington, The Gospel of Matthew, SP 1 (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1991), 356, prefers “gentiles.” 17. For my extended argument on this verse, see Philip F. Esler, “Judean Ethnic Identity and the Matthean Jesus,” in Jesus—Gestalt und Gestaltungen: Rezeptionen des Galiläers in Wissenschaft, Kirche und Gesellschaft; FS für Gerd Theissen, ed. Petra von Gemünden, David G. Horrell, and Max Küchler, NTOA (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013), 193–210. 18. So Esler in “Judean Ethnic Identity.” 19. Matthias Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew, trans. Kathleen Ess, BMSEC (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2014), 66, 73.



Reinterpreting Matthew 25:31–46 201

the gospel: they force Jesus to take stock of his ethnocentrism and learn from engagement with non-Judeans. Jesus makes clear, however, that in the future, after his death and resurrection, things will be very different. The opening to other ethnic groups, initiated with the centurion and the Canaanite woman, will become programmatic. The starkest demonstration of this comes at the end of the gospel, when Jesus enjoins his disciples to go out and make disciples of all nations (ἔθνη; 28:19–20). But earlier in the gospel, at 24:14, he predicts such a mission, and that it will be at least a partial success, by saying: “And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached throughout the whole world, as a testimony to all the nations [ἔθνη]; and then the end [τέλος] will come.” Before the end appears, there will be a period of tribulation when the followers of Jesus will be hated by all the nations (ἔθνη) on account of his name (24:9). The telos will begin with the παρουσία of the Son of Man (24:27, 37, 39), an event that will cause all “the tribes of the earth” (πᾶσαι αἱ φυλὰι τῆς γῆς) to mourn (24:30). In Matt 25:31–46 we see how the beginning of the telos will proceed, with all the nations (ἔθνη) gathered before the enthroned Son of Man, so that he may separate the sheep from the goats. The Christ followers who first received Matthew’s Gospel were meant to understand themselves as living in the period between Jesus’s implied disappearance from the Galilean mountain in chapter 28 and his return at the telos. It is reasonable to assume that the Matthean audience was aware that during this period some members of the foreign nations were indeed becoming followers of Christ, otherwise Jesus’s commandment in Matt 28:19 would be rendered null and void. But what of Israel? Although this is a contested issue, the preferable view in my opinion is that we must count Judeans among the nations to whom the gospel would be preached. They, too, constituted an ἔθνος, even if they are not explicitly so described by Matthew, so that “all the nations” (πάντα τὰ ἔθνη) of 28:19 must include them.20 In any event, Judeans were spread across the Mediterranean world in their millions and could hardly have been avoided by Christ preachers. Jesus was destined to save his people (λαός) from their sins (1:21),21 and, while he clearly won over some of them during his ministry in Galilee and Judea, it is hard to see why 20. On this issue, also see Terence Donaldson’s essay in this volume. 21. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 47–50, is very alive to the importance of Matt 1:21.

202

Philip F. Esler

we should regard this salvific activity as restricted to his lifetime when he promised to be with his followers till the close of the age (28:20). This view is supported by Matt 10:23. One consequence of the practice of Judeans and non-Judeans in the Matthean audience engaging in mixed table fellowship of the sort Jesus predicted in 8:11 for the end time, and therefore legitimated in the meantime, that is, the time of Matthew’s community, was a breach of the Judean prohibition on such practice. This prohibition was based on the Mosaic laws against idolatry.22 Contravening this rule reflects the fact that the Matthean community was not torah observant. As I argued in “ ‘Obey Him’ (Matt 17:5): The Law of Moses and the Gospel of Matthew” at the Society of Biblical Literature Annual Meeting in 2016, Matt 5:17–20 is not an injunction by Jesus to obey the torah but a carefully phrased explanation that such obedience is not necessary in response to those who (correctly) criticized the Matthean Christ-group for not observing the law. 2.2. Matthew 25:31–46 And so we come to Matt 25:31–46. Although this passage is frequently called “the judgment of the nations,” the latter aspect is not correct. For nations as such are not judged. But, before considering the details, we need to demonstrate that Israel, the Judean ethnic group, is included among the ἔθνη involved in this event. From the argument mounted above, since all the ἔθνη are described as gathered before the enthroned Son of Man (28:31–32), how could the ἔθνος of the Judeans be excluded? A Preliminary Issue: Is Israel Included? A strong argument has been mounted by some scholars that Israel was not included among the nations mentioned as gathered in Matt 25:32 by reason of the fact that Israel was to be judged separately, by the Twelve. This suggestion, made, for example, by Daniel Harrington in 1991 and expanded on in 2016 by Anders Runesson,23 fixes on Matt 19:28: “Jesus said to them, ‘Truly, I say to you, in the renewed creation [παλινγενεσία], when the Son of 22. See the evidence cited above in note 8. 23. See Harrington, Matthew, 358–59; Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016), 25–32.



Reinterpreting Matthew 25:31–46 203

Man shall sit on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging [κρίνοντες] the twelve tribes of Israel.’ ” Runesson argues that this statement should be understood against a background of Israelite texts that Judeans were often understood as treated separately from non-Judeans “in various settings of divine judgment.”24 Yet this creative idea, that Matt 19:28 describes a separate judgment for Judeans, encounters an insuperable obstacle in the very words of Matt 19:28. This verse provides a vignette not of a scene of judgment but of that blessed state of things, the παλινγενεσία, the “renewed creation,” which will subsist after the righteous have been recognized and rewarded and evil punished. The continuous nature of this state of blessedness is indicated by the tense of the verbs: the Twelve will sit (καθήσεσθε; future) on their thrones judging (κρίνοντες; durative present) the twelve tribes of Israel. In Matt 19:28 κρίνοντες does not mean judging in the strict sense but judging in the sense of “ruling” or “having authority over.”25 In the Hebrew Bible the verb ‫ שפט‬carries the double sense of “to rule” and “to judge.” The same two possibilities are carried over into the LXX. The critical Israelite text for interpreting Matt 19:28 is the book of Judges, because there the subject is Israel understood as a collection of twelve tribes, the premonarchical organization just as we have in the Matthean verse. Other parts of this gospel also reflect Matthew’s interest in the tribal period, such as when he changes the Syrophoenician woman of Mark 7:26 into a Canaanite woman (15:22). Most commonly in Judges the word κρίνειν bears both meanings (“rule” and “judge”) simultaneously (Judg 10:2, 3; 12:7, 8, 9, 11, 13, 14; 15:20; 16:31). On one occasion κρίνειν is used when the activity in the immediate context—leading warfare against the Israelites’ neighbors—means ruling rather than judging (Judg 3:10). On another occasion it simply means “to judge” in a plainly judicial sense (Judg 4:4). Judging in the sense of “ruling” provides the appropriate framework for understanding Matt 19:28. The scene depicted is that of the settled 24. Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 25 (citing Ezek 39:21; Joel 4; Amos 1–2; Zech 7:8–14; Mic 7:11–13; Pss. Sol. 17.26–30; 1 En. 91.7–16; 4 Ezra 13.33–49; 2 Bar. 72; T. Benj. 10.7–9). 25. Ulrich Luz argues that κρίνοντες means “judging,” not “ruling.” See Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007), 3:517. Runesson, more plausibly, argues that the word can mean both “judging” and “ruling” (Divine Wrath and Salvation, 45–47, especially n. 16, and 310 n. 244).

204

Philip F. Esler

state after the end-time differentiation of sheep and goats in 25:31–46, and the Israelites over whom the Twelve will have authority have survived that process. I say “separation” here because Matthew does not use κρίνειν or its cognates κρῖμα or κρίσις, “judgment,” of the end-time actions of Jesus in 25:31–46, but we may reasonably import that notion into the passage from his use of the expressions “the day of judgment” and “the judgment” elsewhere.26 Both aspects of my position, that Matt 19:28 reflects the settled end-time state of blessedness and that κρίνοντες is used in the broader sense of “rule” or “have authority over,” are confirmed by the Lukan parallel of what is probably a passage from Q: “You are those who have continued with me in my trials; and I assign to you, as my Father assigned to me, a kingdom, that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom, and sit on thrones judging [κρίνοντες] the twelve tribes of Israel” (Luke 22:28–30).27 Interpretation of Matthew 25:31–46 This brings us to Matt 25:31–46, the end-time differentiation that will be conducted by the Son of Man, having come in his glory with the angels, seated on his throne. Before looking more closely at the nature of the judgment in Matt 25:31–46, we should note that Matthew is no doubt aware of the considerable body of material in the Hebrew Bible/LXX that describe events of the end time. Many of these portray a rather gloomy fate in store for nonIsraelite nations (for example, Isa 11:10; 18:7; 45:14; 49:23; 54:3; 60:5, 10, 11, 12; Mic 5:9, 15; Zeph 2:1–3, 8; Zech 8:23). Yet there are also passages portraying a positive destiny for the non-Judean peoples. They will come to Jerusalem and worship God there (Isa 66:23; Zech 14:16–19; Pss 22:27; 86:9), at times with Israel (Isa 2:2–4; Mic 4:1–2). They will eat together the feast that God has prepared (Isa 25:6). 26. For “the day of judgment” (ἡμέρα κρισέως), see 10:15; 11:22, 24; 12:36; for “the judgment” (κρίσις), see 12:41–42. For a view that the passage is about exaltation and not judgment, see William F. Albright and Christopher S. Mann, Matthew: Introduction, Translation, and Notes, AB 26 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1971), 308–9. 27. If one favors the view (a highly unlikely one, in my judgment) that Luke used Matthew, one must counter the fact that Matthew’s earliest interpreter understood Matt 19:28 in the manner being argued for here.



Reinterpreting Matthew 25:31–46 205

Yet Matthew also appears to be familiar with 1 Enoch, in particular, 1 En. 1.4–9. We have a movement through space of a divine figure, accompanied by his angels, the implied arrival at a place and the process of differentiation into two groups, with eternal reward for the righteous and punishment for the unrighteous. In addition, while it is not God but the Son of Man on a throne who will undertake the judgment, that figure closely matches the picture presented in 1 En. 61–62 and 69.26–29. But in spite of these similarities, there is a notable feature distinguishing Matthew’s narrative of the judgment from those in the passages from the Hebrew Bible that concern God dealing with evil at the end time, and from two Enochic passages, 1 En. 26–27 and 90.20–38. All of these situate the end-time events in or near Jerusalem or Zion.28 Such is not the case with the Matthean passage, for the first thing to observe about Matt 25:31– 46 is that there is no place specified in which the Son of Man will sit on his throne and for the other events described to occur.29 We should resist any temptation to overlook the significance of this. Situating the events of the end in Jerusalem reflected the important role played by the homeland in the construction of ethnic identity. In the ancient world the homeland was invariably the site of the metropolis, which contained the chief temples of the ethnic cults or, in Israel’s case, the only temple of its one God.30 Matthew, frequently alleged to be the most Jewish of the gospels,31 does not take this route. For a perspective similar to that of Matthew from elsewhere in the Jesus tradition, consider what Jesus says in John 4:21–24: Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father. You worship what you do

28. It should be noted that there are many judgment scenes in 1 Enoch, in chs. 37–71, that are not set in or near Jerusalem and do not have a notably ethnic character. 29. Anders Runesson has suggested to me that Matt 23:39 seems to be “eschatologically relevant.” Although I agree with this (and see Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 236–39), the meaning of this verse cannot be stretched so far as to convey a final judgment in or near Jerusalem. 30. Apart from the Judean temple at Leontopolis, Egypt, destroyed at Vespasian’s command in 73 CE. 31. David Sim, in many works, is a very able exponent of this position. See, in particular, Sim, The Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism: The History and Social Setting of the Matthean Community, SNTW (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998); Sim, Apocalyptic Eschatology in the Gospel of Matthew, SNTSMS 88 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996).

206

Philip F. Esler

not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Judeans. But the hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for such the Father seeks to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth. (RSV, modified)

The Johannine Jesus is here subverting a pillar of Judean and Samaritan ethnic identities, namely, the role played in by the central cultic place in the homeland. Matthew’s failure in 25:31–46 to specify Jerusalem as the locale for his judgment scene exhibits a similar perspective. The only difference is that Matthew is not so blunt as John (nor indeed as Paul, whose enthusiasm to separate the end time from Judean ethnic understandings tied to place appears in the saved rising to meet the Lord in the air! [1 Thess 4:17]). Critical for understanding the Matthean passage are verses 32–33: “And all the nations [πάντα τὰ ἔθνη] will be gathered before him, and he will separate them [αὐτούς] from one another, just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will set the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.” The use of αὐτούς, masculine plural, in spite of the neuter plural antecedent, ἔθνη, is highly significant. The idea that the antecedent of αὐτούς is τὰ ἔθνη, in spite of the change of gender,32 is irreconcilable with the way the narrative develops. For there is a stark juxtaposition here: although the nations are gathered, it is human beings, not nations, who are differentiated into sheep and goats. This “implies individual rather than national judgment.”33 This view is developed in the description of the sheep as “the blessed [εὐλογημένοι] of my father” (v. 34) and of the goats as “cursed people” (κατηραμένοι; v. 41), the masculine plural appearing in each case. This point is confirmed when we learn that the basis of differentiation has been how those in the respective groups dealt with individuals in need, with whom Jesus identifies himself. There are six needs, and they are mentioned four times, in the same order: being hungry, thirsty, a

32. This is argued by Sherman W. Gray, The Least of My Brothers: Matthew 25:31– 46; A History of Interpretation, SBDLS 114 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), 353; Donald A. Hagner, Matthew, WBC 33 (Dallas: Word, 1993–1995), 2:742. 33. Robert H. Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Literary and Theological Art (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982), 512; similarly, John Nolland, The Gospel of Matthew: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), 1025.



Reinterpreting Matthew 25:31–46 207

stranger, naked, sick, or in prison.34 The word ἑνί (“to one”) in the expression “to one of the least of my brothers’ ” (v. 40) “is needed to bring into focus individual acts done in connection with individual needs.”35 Although Jesus uses the second-person singular when he says they did this or they failed to do that, this is clearly a way of referring to the totality of acts by individuals (or perhaps by small groups of people) to individuals in straitened circumstances for one reason or another. The nature of the on-the-spot assistance that particular individuals needed rules out the idea that it is nations that are responsible either for offering that assistance or refusing it. No nation, as such, not even Israel, finds itself on one side or another. It is only members of the nations who are differentiated into one or other group. There is a debate as to whether the people with whom Jesus identifies, “one of the least of my brothers” at verse 40, or “one of the least of these,” are Christ followers or not.36 Probably Christ followers are meant, although elsewhere Matthew mentions the need to do good to all people (9:13; 12:7). The determination of which is correct does not, however, affect this conclusion as to whom the Son of Man allocates, with some to one group and some to the other, and why. The dominant basis on which people find themselves in one group or the other—with the former, the righteous (δίκαιοι),37 who are individuals, not nations, destined for eternal life, and the latter for eternal punishment (v. 46)—is how they, as individuals, treated other individuals. In other words, salvation, even for Israelites, has nothing to do with one’s ethnic identity. Yet the earlier discussion of Matt 19:28 highlights a feature of Matthew’s understanding of the future state of blessedness worth mentioning here. As argued above, this verse refers to the imagined situation after the judgment. The members of the twelve tribes of Israel then subject to the

34. Hagner, Matthew, 2:740, rightly emphasizes the repeated nature of the same list. 35. Nolland, Matthew, 1031. 36. For the view that they are Christ followers, which is more probable, see Gundry, Matthew, 513–14; Harrington, Matthew, 358 (citing Matt 10:40); Hagner, Matthew, 2:744–45 (who puts particular stress on “my brothers,” since Jesus consistently refers to his disciples as “my brothers” [12:48–49; 28:10]) and “little ones” [18:6, 10, 14]). For the view that they are human beings generally, see Gray, Least of My Brothers, 255–67, who cites many commentators who have taken this view. 37. Righteousness is a favorite concept for Matthew (Hagner, Matthew, 2:744).

208

Philip F. Esler

judging of the twelve followers of Jesus will only have achieved that status by passing the test that 25:31–46 describes. Their presence would thus give substance to the angel’s prediction that Jesus “will save his people from their sins” (1:21). Yet we know from Matt 25:31–46 and, indeed, from 8:11 that non-Israelites will also pass that test and be present in the kingdom. The issue raised by 19:28 is therefore that it seems to speak of some form of differentiation among those saved at the end, even though Judean and non-Judean will sit down and dine together (8:11). Now, it may be that Matthew is faithfully reproducing a saying of Jesus in 19:28 without fully reconciling it with the rest of his understanding of the final situation. But that seems less likely than that 19:28 was fully incorporated into this understanding. The reason for this comes from 5:19, where it is evident that Matthew views the kingdom of heaven as containing members of different status: some will be least in the kingdom, and some will be great. Is this an indication that while ethnic identity is irrelevant to entering the kingdom of heaven—in that Judean and non-Judean, if they have satisfied the test set out in 25:31–46, will enter it (thus achieving ultimate salvation) and for some purposes (dining, for example) have equal status—Matthew is nevertheless able to contemplate that the kingdom will accommodate the old tribal nature of Israel? That does, indeed, appear to be the case. It is a result that necessitates giving a very ample meaning to the statement in 1:21: “He will save his people from their sins.” 3. Matthew in Maoza How would a message such as that conveyed in Matt 25:31–46 within the wider context of that gospel have been received in Maoza in the late first or early second century CE, given the nature of ethnic relations present there, as outlined earlier? Initial sharing of the message by Judean Christ followers to Nabateans, Romans, Greeks, and Illyrians would have been facilitated by the local acceptance of Judeans and by established relationships and networks. The non-Judeans in Maoza, while acknowledging the ease with which Judeans traded with them, would also have been aware of a Judean disinclination to dine with or marry them. Accordingly, the movement in the gospel away from the strikingly ethnocentric nature of Jesus’s initial attitudes and restriction of his mission to Judeans would have been welcome by members of other ethnic groups. A gospel tied to the election of Israel and closed to others would have had limited appeal. It would have required acquisition of Judean ethnic identity. At the same



Reinterpreting Matthew 25:31–46 209

time, the picture of eternal reward being open to members of all ethnic groups on the basis of how they reacted to people in need would have chimed with a world where, to judge by Shim‘on’s experience, individual acts of kindness and graciousness to members of ethnic outgroups were not foreign to the culture. On the other hand, that the passage predicates ultimate salvation on one’s treatment of Christ-followers may have narrowed its appeal in ethnically tolerant Nabatea/Arabia. It may well be possible to generalize this situation to other places outside Judea where there were good commercial and legal relations between Judeans and non-Judeans. The issue with Maoza is in part that we have so much evidence of a kind that is lacking elsewhere.

Part 3 Jesus among Friends and Enemies

The Role of the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew Matthias Konradt

The Gospel of Matthew is in large part a story of conflict.1 There is a broad consensus in Matthean scholarship that this conflict mirrors the experiences—past or present—of the Matthean communities. In determining the relationship between Matthew and his Christ-believing communities on the one hand and “Judaism” on the other, one of the major interpretative tasks is thus to analyze exactly how the configuration of the conflict is to be defined. Scholars who understand Matthew’s Gospel as a text that advocates the replacement of Israel with the church as God’s people2 usually interpret the fierce conflict between the Matthean Jesus and the Jewish authorities in such a way that the authorities function as representatives of Israel in the strict sense of the word. For this reading, one can point to Matthew’s presentation of the trial before Pilate in 27:11–26, in which, at 1. See above all Marlis Gielen, Der Konflikt Jesu mit den religiösen und politischen Autoritäten seines Volkes im Spiegel der matthäischen Jesusgeschichte, BBB 115 (Bodenheim: Philo, 1998); Boris Repschinski, The Controversy Stories in the Gospel of Matthew: Their Redaction, Form and Relevance for the Relationship between the Matthean Community and Formative Judaism, FRLANT 189 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000); Matthias Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew, trans. Kathleen Ess, BMSEC 2 (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2014), esp. 89–166. This paper takes up and further develops my deliberations in Israel, Church, and the Gentiles (see esp. 89–101, 153–66). 2. See for example Wolfgang Trilling, Das wahre Israel: Studien zur Theologie des Matthäus-Evangeliums, 3rd rev. ed., SANT 10 (Munich: Kösel-Verlag, 1964), 53–96; Hubert Frankemölle, Jahwe-Bund und Kirche Christi: Studien zur Form- und Traditionsgeschichte des “Evangeliums” nach Matthäus, 2nd ed., NTAbh 2/10 (Münster: Aschendorff, 1984), 204–11, 248, 255; Ulrich Luz, “Der Antijudaismus im Matthäusevangelium als historisches und theologisches Problem: Eine Skizze,” EvT 53 (1993): 316; Richard E. Menninger, Israel and the Church in the Gospel of Matthew, AUSTR 162 (New York: Lang, 1994), 7–8.

-213-

214

Matthias Konradt

the end, the authorities successfully persuade the crowds to ask for the release of Barabbas and to have Jesus put to death (v. 20). However, in the preceding narrative of Jesus’s ministry in Galilee and even in Jerusalem, Matthew depicts the crowds as interested and friendly, to say the least. The “new perspective” on Matthew’s Gospel, which regards the text as a thoroughly Jewish document that reflects a conflict of Christ believers within Judaism,3 is based among many other things on a more nuanced reading of the narrative—a reading that recognizes that the crowds appear with their own profile as a character in the Matthean Jesus story much more markedly than in Mark and Luke.4 The crowds’ narrative function does not consist in merely supplying the applauding chorus on occasion. Most importantly, as a distinct character in the narrative, the crowds can be clearly distinguished from the authorities. This striking feature of Matthew’s narrative evokes several central questions: What exactly is the role of the crowds in Matthew’s Gospel? Does the dominant differentiation between the authorities and the crowds reflect how Matthew conceives of the situation of the Christ-believing communities in relation to Judaism? In other words, is there a counterpart to the literary figure of the (Galilean) crowds in the social world of the evangelist? And how can the differentiation between the crowds and the authorities in large parts of the gospel be reconciled with the role of the crowds in 27:11–26? Before we can attempt to answer these questions, it should be noted that recognizing the crowds as a distinct character in Matthew’s Jesus story obviously does not imply that these crowds are a strictly defined group 3. See above all J. Andrew Overman, Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism: The Social World of the Matthean Community (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990); Anthony J. Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, CSHJ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994); David C. Sim, The Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism: The History and Social Setting of the Matthean Community, SNTW (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998); Anders Runesson, “Re-thinking Early Jewish-Christian Relations: Matthean Community History as Pharisaic Intra-group Conflict,” JBL 127 (2008): 95–132; Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016), 39–339. For a critical survey of the recent debate, the main controversial aspects, and the methodological problems, see Matthias Konradt, “Matthäus im Kontext: Eine Bestandsaufnahme zur Frage des Verhältnisses der matthäischen Gemeinde(n) zum Judentum,” in Konradt, Studien zum Matthäusevangelium, ed. Alida Euler, WUNT 358 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016), 3–42. 4. See J. Robert C. Cousland, The Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew, NovTSup 102 (Leiden: Brill, 2002), esp. 39–51.



The Role of the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew 215

of people in the sense that they always comprise more or less the same persons. “Crowds” are, by definition, somewhat amorphous entities. There may be different crowds in different places. Moreover, although from 4:25 on Matthew consistently uses “crowd” (ὄχλος)5 to refer to the people who follow Jesus or appear as the addressees of his healing activity, this does not imply the inverse, that “crowd” (ὄχλος) always denotes these particular crowds. For example, in 9:23, 25 “the crowd making a commotion” (NRSV; ὄχλος θορυβούμενος) refers to a group of mourners, and in 26:47 “a large crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and the elders of the people” (NRSV; ὄχλος πολὺς μετὰ μαχαιρῶν καὶ ξύλων ἀπὸ τῶν ἀρχιερέων καὶ πρεσβυτέρων τοῦ λαοῦ) appears on the scene (see Mark 14:43). That said, it is nevertheless the case that most passages in which crowds appear make similar statements about them, so that these “crowds” (ὄχλοι) can be taken as a distinct character in the Matthean Jesus story, as will be substantiated in the following discussion. In the first section, I will outline Matthew’s differentiation between the authorities and the crowds. Section 2 will analyze the crowds’ positive reactions to Jesus’s ministry, while the third section will briefly discuss the distinction between the crowds and the disciples. In the fourth section, I will turn to the role and the identity of the crowds in 27:11–26 and the relevance of this passage for the overall portrayal of the crowds in Matthew’s Gospel. Finally, I will discuss the conclusions that might be drawn from Matthew’s presentation of the crowds with regard to the situation of the Christ-believing communities in Matthew’s time and surroundings. 1. Matthew’s Differentiation between the Authorities and the Crowds As is well known, Matthew draws a thoroughly grim picture of the authorities.6 Prior to the passion narrative, however, Matthew shows a strong interest in differentiating clearly between the authorities and the crowds. This salient tendency manifests itself first of all in Matthew’s redaction of several passages taken from Q. Whereas John the Baptist’s sermon of judgment is simply addressed “to the crowds” in Luke 3:7, which seems 5. See Cousland, Crowds in the Gospel, 39–40. 6. A reasonable scribe like the one who appears in Mark 12:28–34 has no place here. Even Jairus the ἀρχισυνάγωγος from Mark 5:22 has become merely an ἄρχων in Matt 9:18. At most, the scribe in 8:19–20—who is nonetheless rejected—stands out somewhat from the grim overall image in Matthew.

216

Matthias Konradt

to represent the Q version, Matthew introduces here a clear distinction between different attitudes toward the Baptist. According to Matt 3:5–6, people from Jerusalem, all Judea, and all the region along the Jordan were going out to John to be baptized. Verse 7 then proceeds with the note that John saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees, who had come to the place where John was baptizing in view of the circumstances described in verses 5–6.7 In Matthew, they are the addressees of John’s sermon of judgment, and, thus, they are labeled “brood of vipers.”8 In the further course of the story, Matthew repeatedly constructs analogous constellations. The two occurrences of the accusation that Jesus casts out demons by Beelzebul (9:32–34; 12:22–24) are of central importance in this regard. Q 11:14–15 seems to have presented two different reactions by the crowds to Jesus’s casting out a demon:9 the crowds are amazed, but some (of them) say that he casts out demons by the power of Beelzebul. By contrast, Matthew has separated the divided reaction of the crowds in Matt 9:32–34 and 12:22–24 such that only the positive reaction is attributed to the crowds, while the negative reaction—perhaps inspired by the “scribes” (γραμματεῖς) in Mark 3:22—is attributed to the Pharisees. Similarly, the demand for a sign in Matt 12:38 is not put forth by “some” (τινες), as it probably was in Q,10 but rather by “some of the scribes and Pharisees” 7. For this interpretation of the phrase ἐπὶ τὸ βάπτισμα αὐτοῦ, see Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 106, and further Robert L. Webb, John the Baptizer and Prophet: A Socio-historical Study, JSNTSup 62 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991), 175 with n. 32; Robert H. Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Handbook for a Mixed Church under Persecution, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1994), 46; Christopher M. Tuckett, Q and the History of Early Christianity: Studies on Q (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996), 113; Joel Kennedy, The Recapitulation of Israel: Use of Israel’s History in Matthew 1:1–4:11, WUNT 2/257 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008), 168–70. In contrast, ἐπὶ τὸ βάπτισμα αὐτοῦ is taken in the sense of “to be baptized” by, e.g., Gerd Häfner, Der verheißene Vorläufer: Redaktionskritische Untersuchung zur Darstellung Johannes des Täufers im Matthäus-Evangelium, SBB 27 (Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1994), 53; Gielen, Konflikt Jesu, 49–50, 52. 8. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations are my own. 9. In view of the textual agreement between Matt 9:33 and Luke 11:14 in καὶ ἐθαύμασαν οἱ ὄχλοι, the use of ὄχλοι can be traced back to Q; moreover, the divided reaction of the ὄχλοι found in Luke 11:14–15 is also likely based on Q. See, e.g., Gielen, Konflikt Jesu, 104; Ulrich Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007), 2:50. 10. Luke brings the demand for a sign forward in the narrative, incorporating it into the reaction to Jesus’s exorcism in Luke/Q 11.14–15 (Luke 11:16): a few (from the



The Role of the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew 217

(τινες τῶν γραμματέων καὶ Φαρισαίων; see Mark 8:11), to whom the words against the “wicked and adulterous generation” (γενεά; Matt 12:39–40) as well as the threatening words in 12:41–42 then also apply.11 In light of this clear redactional tendency to differentiate between the hostile reactions of the authorities and positive reactions of the crowds, it is no surprise that in 21:45–46 the plan of the high priests and Pharisees to arrest Jesus fails because they fear the crowds on account of their positive attitude toward Jesus. Moreover, this differentiation also manifests itself in passages in which Jesus teaches the crowds. In Matt 15:1–9, 10–11, Jesus’s dispute with Pharisees and scribes over washing the hands before eating is followed by his instructing the crowds. Whereas the authorities are labeled as hypocrites who worship God in vain and teach human precepts as doctrines (vv. 7–9), the crowds are called on to “listen and understand” (v. 10). After the final dispute between Jesus and the authorities over Jesus’s teaching in 21:23–22:46, in which Jesus emerges as the clear winner,12 he does not just instruct the disciples about the scribes and Pharisees—the crowds are also among the audience for Jesus’s warnings (23:1). Last but not least, in Matthew’s configuration of the Jesus story, the ministry of Jesus as the messianic, Davidic shepherd who shall shepherd God’s people Israel (2:6; see 15:24)13 is directed specifically toward the crowds. In Matthew’s story, 2:6 is taken up in 10:6 and 15:24: Jesus sends crowds, see 11:14) react with the Beelzebul accusation, others react with the demand for a sign. On the probable Q version, see the reconstruction of Q 11:16 by James M. Robinson, Paul Hoffmann, and John S. Kloppenborg, eds., The Critical Edition of Q: Synopsis including the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, Mark and Thomas with English, German, and French Translations of Q and Thomas (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2000), 246–47. Among others, Luz, Matthew, 2:214, and Gielen, Konflikt Jesu, 147, also regard τῶν γραμματέων καὶ Φαρισαίων as Matthean redaction. 11. On this see Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 219–25. 12. On the compositional schema in Matt 21:23–22:46 see Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 126(–34). 13. On Jesus as the messianic, Davidic shepherd in Matthew see Young S. Chae, Jesus as the Eschatological Davidic Shepherd: Studies in the Old Testament, Second Temple Judaism, and in the Gospel of Matthew, WUNT 2/216 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006), esp. 173–326; Joel Willitts, Matthew’s Messianic Shepherd King: In Search of “the Lost Sheep of the House of Israel,” BZNW 147 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007), 95–173; Wayne Baxter, Israel’s Only Shepherd: Matthew’s Shepherd Motif and His Social Setting, LNTS 457 (London: T&T Clark, 2012), esp. 125–65; Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 18–49.

218

Matthias Konradt

his disciples and is sent himself “to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” The traditional question of whether this phrase refers only to “sinners” or, as most exegetes postulate, to the people as a whole14 does not address the key differentiation, since, as 9:36 clearly shows, “the sheep” denote only the crowds (ὄχλοι). Opposite them stand the shepherds,15 the authorities of the people, who are implicitly criticized in the description of the crowds as harassed, languishing, and “without a shepherd” (9:36) and as “lost” (10:6; 15:24). This interpretation is substantiated when these passages are read against the background of Old Testament texts such as Jer 23:1–6 and Ezek 34, which are clearly of major importance for Matthew:16 the authorities appear in the role of the old shepherds, whose failure in tending the flock (i.e., the crowds in Matthew’s story) is harshly criticized in the Old Testament texts and who, according to Matthew, are now replaced with the messianic, Davidic shepherd Jesus and his disciples (see Ezek 34:23; Jer 23:4–6).

14. In the first case, the genitive οἴκου Ἰσραήλ is understood to be epexegetical. The majority of interpreters take this view, often with reference to the contrast to “gentiles” and Samaritans in 10:5–6; see, e.g., Luz, Matthew, 2:73; W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., The Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 2:167, 551; Heinz Giesen, “Jesu Sendung zu Israel und die Heiden im Matthäusevangelium,” in Forschungen zum Neuen Testament und seiner Umwelt, ed. Christoph Niemand, LPTR 7 (Frankfurt: Lang, 2002), 129–30. In the second case, the genitive is taken to be partitive, which is the view of Axel von Dobbeler, “Die Restitution Israels und die Bekehrung der Heiden: Das Verhältnis von Mt 10,5b.6 und Mt 28,18–20 unter dem Aspekt der Komplementarität: Erwägungen zum Standort des Matthäusevangeliums,” ZNW 91 (2000): 29–30; John Nolland, The Gospel of Matthew: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), 416–17. 15. In this vein also Amy-Jill Levine, The Social and Ethnic Dimensions of Matthean Salvation History: “Go Nowhere among the Gentiles …” (Matt. 10:5b), SBEC 14 (Lewiston, NY: Mellen, 1988), 56. 16. On the centrality of Ezek 34 as a reference text for the First Evangelist, see John Paul Heil, “Ezekiel 34 and the Narrative Strategy of the Shepherd and the Sheep Metaphor in Matthew,” CBQ 55 (1993): 698–708; Wayne Baxter, “Healing and the ‘Son of David’: Matthew’s Warrant,” NovT 48 (2006): 36–49, esp. 43–45; Chae, Jesus as the Eschatological Davidic Shepherd, 205–19. Donald J. Verseput points equally to Ezek 34 and Jer 23:1–3. See Verseput, “The Davidic Messiah and Matthew’s Jewish Christianity,” in Society of Biblical Literature 1995 Seminar Papers, SBLSP 34 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995), 112. For a detailed analysis of the motif of the Davidic shepherd in Ezek 34–37, see Chae, Jesus as the Eschatological Davidic Shepherd, 38–76.



The Role of the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew 219

2. Positive Reactions of the Crowds and Their Developing Christological Insight In Matthew’s Gospel, the noun ὄχλος first appears in 4:25, where the crowds are introduced as an important character of the story in the context of a summary statement about Jesus’s ministry, which introduces 4:23–9:35: Jesus’s preaching and healing meet with broad popularity and inspire “great crowds” (ὄχλοι πολλοί) to become his followers. Already in this first mention of the crowds, and only here (!), they are described more specifically by their place of origin. In the details about the crowds’ geographical origins, Matthew adopts Mark 3:7b–8, but removes Idumea as well as Tyre and Sidon, inserting instead the Decapolis. While these alterations cannot be plausibly explained by applying a historical perspective,17 they make sense from a biblical perspective when one sees that geographical description sketches the contours of the twelve tribes’ area of settlement, the biblical “land of Israel” (γῆ Ἰσραήλ; see 2:20–21).18 This likely alludes to the motif of the restoration of Israel,19 with the Decapolis covering the northern region of the Transjordanian tribes. These geographical details thus articulate the idea that crowds from all of Israel are responding to Jesus’s public ministry, while the biblically gentile territories of Tyre and Sidon as well as Idumea (i.e., Edom20) are omitted. In Matt 5:1–2 these crowds constitute the wider audience of the Sermon on the Mount and thus receive Jesus’s explanation of the true meaning of the torah, which he came to fulfill (5:17–48). At the end of the sermon, the crowds recognize this as an authoritative teaching, which distinguishes 17. The Decapolis as well as Tyre and Sidon along with the surrounding area had a primarily gentile population, and there were also Jews in both areas (see, e.g., Josephus, B.J. 2.466–480). John Hyrcanus had conquered the Idumeans and required them to be circumcised, and so had “Judaized” them (Josephus, A.J. 13.257–258), yet Idumea does not appear in Matt 4. 18. See, for example, Cousland, Crowds in the Gospel, 53–68. Matthew outlines first the north, then the south, from west to east. Jerusalem, “the city of the great king” (5:35), thus comes to be in the middle. Samaria is regarded as non-Jewish territory and is therefore absent. 19. Likewise Peter Fiedler, Das Matthäusevangelium, TKNT 1 (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2006), 104. 20. See the LXX evidence, where Idumea often stands for Edom. See 2 Sam 8:14; 1 Kgs 11:14–15; 2 Kgs 14:10; Amos 1:6, 9; Obad 8; Isa 34:5–6 (!); Lam 4:21 (!); Ezek 25:12–14 (!); and elsewhere.

220

Matthias Konradt

Jesus from their scribes (7:28–29); ἐξεπλήσσοντο in verse 28 is to be taken in the sense of positive astonishment, which is underscored by the second occurrence of the verb with the crowds as its subject (22:33).21 In 7:28–29, the astonishment of the crowds at Jesus’s teaching refers explicitly to the “authority” (ἐξουσία) that teaching reveals. In 22:33, Matthew mentions the crowds’ astonishment after Jesus has shown his superiority in the dispute with the Sadducees (22:23–33); this is part of the final controversy between Jesus and the authorities in 21:23–22:46, which begins with the authorities’ question concerning the source of Jesus’s authority. Matthew thus also incorporates the second mention of the crowds’ ἐκπλήσσεσθαι at Jesus’s teaching into the theme of Jesus’s authority (21:23). Moreover, Matthew not only emphasizes that the crowds are impressed by Jesus’s teaching, but also highlights their positive reactions in connection with Jesus’s healing ministry. In 15:31, a passage that can be attributed entirely to the hand of the evangelist, Matthew notes that the crowd was amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the maimed whole, the lame walking, and the blind seeing, and that they praised the God of Israel. The motif of the crowd’s praise of God also appears at the end of the pericope about the healing of a lame man in 9:8, which is also particularly instructive for Matthew’s redactional tendency. At the end of the Markan version (Mark 2:1–12), all those present are astounded and praise God with the words “we have never seen anything like this” (v. 12). The context here allows for the possibility that the scribes might be among those who praise God. Matthew, however, has excluded this possibility by explicitly introducing the crowds. In addition to replacing the Markan ἐξίστασθαι with the people’s fear, Matthew has further accentuated the point of reference for the praise of God by taking up “authority” (ἐξουσία), the central keyword from 9:6 (par. Mark 2:10).22 The pericope thus does not have in view only the healing event itself, as is the case in Mark 2:12; rather, in connection with Jesus’s own words (Matt 9:6) and reaching beyond the therapeutic event they have just witnessed, the crowds pick up on what this event presupposes and reveals: they recognize, as in 7:28–29, the extraordinary authority that finds expression in the healing. Matthew’s focus on the crowds’ awareness of Jesus’s authority can be connected with a further striking peculiarity of Matthew’s depiction of the 21. See the interpretation of the passages in Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 92–93. 22. See Repschinski, Controversy Stories, 71.



The Role of the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew 221

crowds, which emerges in 9:32–34 and 12:22–24. Whereas the Q version of the pericope in Q 11:14–15 (see above) simply notes that the crowds were amazed, Matthew has given voice to the crowds in 9:33 as well as in 12:23. In 9:33 they react to the healing of a demon-possessed mute man with the words: “Never has anything like this been seen in Israel” (9:33). In formulating this utterance of the crowds, Matthew was inspired by Mark 2:12. However, by replacing the Markan “we saw” (εἴδομεν) with the phrase “has been seen … in Israel” (ἐφάνη ... ἐν τῷ Ἰσραήλ), Matthew transforms a remark limited to the crowd’s realm of experience into a statement encompassing the path of God’s history with his people Israel.23 Matthew thus characterizes the crowds as being on the way toward recognizing the unique and exceptional nature of the divine care for Israel in Jesus.24 The crowds’ insight in Jesus’s identity has developed further by the time the scene of 9:32–34 is repeated in 12:22–24. The crowds are now beginning to identify the uniqueness of the salvific event that they observed in 9:33 more precisely within the history of Israel, namely, in messianic categories, although a hint of doubt resonates in their utterance, as indicated by the interrogative particle μήτι: “Could this man be the Son of David?”25 Matthew 21:8–9 then takes yet another decisive step forward. Matthew has knitted together into a single unit the entry into Jerusalem and the cleansing of the temple (21:12–13), and expanded the pericope to include healings in the temple (21:14–17).26 The Markan “many” (πολλοί) who spread their 23. See Cousland, Crowds in the Gospel, 137; Nolland, Matthew, 403. 24. The thesis that the crowds here understand nothing more than the external façade of the miracle (Luz, Matthew, 2:50) downplays the budding awareness that Matthew ascribes to them in 9:33. Precisely the comparison with Mark 2:12 illustrates that Matthew does not simply portray the crowds as being in superficial awe. 25. The interrogative particle μήτι does normally anticipate a negative response, but there are exceptions in which this sense is modified (see BDF §427.2). In Matt 12:23, the question can only be taken in a positive sense, since it is contrasted with the Pharisees’ negative statement in 12:24. The particle μήτι thus characterizes the crowds’ statement in 12:23 as a thought that in principle reckons positively with the possibility that Jesus is in fact the Son of David, but nonetheless maintains an element of doubt. A very close and instructive parallel to Matt 12:23 is found in John 4:29, where the Samaritan woman asks: μήτι οὗτός ἐστιν ὁ χριστός. Here too, the question is beset with doubt. 26. On the unity of Matt 21:1–17, see Wolfgang Trilling, “Der Einzug in Jerusalem: Mt 21,1–17,” in Neutestamentliche Aufsätze, ed. Josef Blinzler, Otto Kuss, and Franz Mußner (Regensburg: Pustet, 1963), 303–4; Norbert Lohfink, “Der Messiaskönig und seine Armen kommen zum Zion: Beobachtungen zu Mt 21,1–17,” in Studien zum

222

Matthias Konradt

cloaks on the road (Mark 11:8) become in Matthew “a very large crowd” (ὁ πλεῖστος ὄχλος) (Matt 21:8), and Matthew inserts “the crowds” (οἱ ὄχλοι) in front of the Markan “those who went ahead and those who followed” (οἱ προάγοντες καὶ οἱ ἀκολουθοῦντες; Mark 11:9). Thus, in concretizing the Markan details, Matthew takes a significantly different path from Luke, who turns the rejoicing crowd into “the whole multitude of the disciples” (πλῆθος τῶν μαθητῶν; Luke 19:37). Further, Matthew has inserted “to the Son of David” (τῷ υἱῷ Δαυίδ; Matt 21:9) into the citation of Ps 117:25–26 (LXX). In contrast to the question from 12:23, Matthew now has the crowds acclaim Jesus as the messianic Son of David. The scene recurs mutatis mutandis in the temple. Here it is the children who, after Jesus’s healings (21:14), which Matthew has inserted, take up the cry “Hosanna to the Son of David” (21:15). Jesus’s true identity as more than the Son of David (i.e., as Son of God27) does not change the fact that Matthew has the crowds and the children express a fundamentally correct christological insight. This is substantiated not only by the evangelist’s own use of the title (Matt 1:1), and by Jesus’s positive comment on the children’s cry in 21:16, but also by Matthew’s insertion of the fulfillment quotation from Zech 9:9 in verses 4–5, in which the opening words “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion” are replaced with words taken from Isa 62:11 (“say to the daughter of Zion” [εἴπατε τῇ θυγατρὶ Σιών]). It is clear that this modification is intended to adapt the quotation to the events narrated in Matt 21: the crowds tell Jerusalem, the daughter of Zion, that the messianic, Davidic king has arrived. In other words, the crowds do exactly what the words of the prophet have announced. One might object at this point that although the crowds’ and children’s acclamation of Jesus as the Son of David is valid, it nevertheless falls short of the disciples’ christological insight that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God (Matt 14:33; 16:16). While this is true, it is not the key aspect in 21:9.28 Matthäusevangelium, ed. Ludger Schenke (Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1988), 181–91; Wim J. C. Weren, “Jesus’ Entry into Jerusalem: Mt 21,1–17 in the Light of the Hebrew Bible and the Septuagint,” in The Scriptures in the Gospels, ed. Christopher M. Tuckett, BETL 131 (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1997), 117–18. 27. On my understanding of Matthew’s christological conception, see Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 18–74, 282–311; for a brief outline, see Matthias Konradt, Das Evangelium nach Matthäus, NTD 1 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2015), 5–11. 28. It makes sense that the disciples never identify Jesus as the Son of David because they participate in Jesus’s messianic, Davidic pastoral ministry (see Cousland, Crowds in the Gospel, 198).



The Role of the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew 223

Matthew’s emphasis on Jesus’s Davidic messiahship is correlated with his focus on Jesus’s ministry to Israel.29 The crowds thus recognize Jesus precisely in the role in which he was sent to them: as the messianic, Davidic shepherd of his people (see 2:6; 15:24), who ministers to this people by helping and healing them. At the same time, one cannot ignore the fact that Matthew not only clearly distinguishes the crowds from the authorities, but also differentiates between the crowds and the disciples. 3. Matthew’s Differentiation between the Crowds and the Disciples When Matthew introduces the crowds in 4:25, he uses an ambivalent formulation: “great crowds followed him” (καὶ ἠκολούθησαν αὐτῷ ὄχλοι πολλοί). On the one hand, ἀκολουθεῖν serves as a technical term for following Jesus in the sense of discipleship on several occasions in Matthew’s Gospel (see 4:20, 22; 8:19, 22; 9:9; 16:24; 19:21, 27, 28). On the other hand, the verb can just mean “to walk behind someone.”30 It is thus not necessarily required to take ἀκολουθεῖν as a technical term in 4:25. However, the repeated use of this verb in relation to the crowds (see further 8:1, 10; 12:15; 14:13; 19:2; 20:29) is at least suggestive of this meaning, particularly as the technical use in 4:20, 22 still resonates in 4:25. Matthew plays with the ambiguity of the word and so brings the crowds into close association with the disciples. Ulrich Luz aptly summarizes the evidence by discussing the crowds as a “potential church.”31 At the same time, however, it must be emphasized that Matthew does not remove the distinction between the crowds and the disciples. In the setting for the Sermon on the Mount, the disciples constitute an 29. On this connection see Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 18–74. 30. For nontechnical use, see Matt 9:19, 27; 26:58; and above all—in connection with the ὄχλοι—21:9 (οἱ ἀκολουθοῦντες alongside οἱ προάγοντες αὐτόν). 31. Luz, Matthew, 1:163: see also 1:167 n. 15, and, on 7:28–29, 1:389–90. See also Bernhard Citron, “The Multitude in the Synoptic Gospels,” SJT 7 (1954): 416 (“future converts”), and Fiedler, Matthäusevangelium, 216, on 9:8: the crowds represent “die … potentiellen Christusgläubigen.” Paul S. Minear goes a step further: the crowds stand for the laypeople in the community, while the disciples represent the community leaders. See Minear, “The Disciples and the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew,” AThRS 3 (1974): 40–41. According to Gundry, Matthew uses ὄχλος “to represent the masses in the church, professing disciples both true and false—the result of extensive evangelism among the Gentiles” (Matthew, 65; see also 213, 231–32, 410–11). However, Matthew characterizes the crowds in 4:25 explicitly as being from Israel.

224

Matthias Konradt

inner circle (Matt 5:1–2). In Matt 11:7–30, Jesus instructs the crowds about John the Baptist (11:7–20) and invites them to take his yoke upon them (11:28–30), whereas the disciples can be identified with the infants to whom “these things,” that is, the works of the Messiah (11:2), have already been revealed (11:25). Furthermore, unlike Mark, Matthew explicitly relates Jesus’s saying about his siblings in 12:46–50 to the disciples. In Matt 15:10–11, 12–20, the instruction of the crowds is followed by a separate instruction of the disciples. In 16:24, Matthew has omitted “and when he had called the crowd” (καὶ προσκαλεσάμενος τὸν ὄχλον) from Mark 8:34; for Matthew, the admonition to take up one’s cross and follow Jesus is an instruction only for the disciples. Most importantly, in 13:10– 17 the insightful disciples are set apart from the undiscerning crowds,32 and in the development of Matthew’s narrative, the parable discourse on the whole serves to deepen the differentiation between the disciples and the crowds, as is manifest in the structure of the discourse. Whereas the first main part of the discourse in verses 3–35 (aside from the interlude in vv. 10–23) is a public speech from a boat on the shore of the sea of Galilee (v. 2), the second main part in verses 36–52 is only addressed to the disciples in a house (v. 36). On the other hand, it must be emphasized that the differentiation between the disciples and the crowds does not mean that from this point on Jesus turns away from the crowds or that the crowds lose interest in Jesus. Rather, Jesus continues to instruct the crowds (15:10–11; 23:1–39), and the crowds continue to be impressed by Jesus; not only do they remain on his side even in Matt 21–23 (21:8–11, 46; 22:33; 23:1), but even more significantly, as noted above, their insight into Jesus’s identity reaches its climax in 21:9—after the parable discourse. To briefly summarize the findings so far, Matthew has repeatedly (in contrast to his sources) relieved the crowds in Jesus’s surroundings of negative characteristics, at the expense of the Jewish authorities; created a direct contrast between the crowds and the religious authorities in their 32. On the differentiation between the disciples and the crowds, see Cousland, Crowds in the Gospel, 247–56; Martin Meiser, Die Reaktion des Volkes auf Jesus: Eine redaktionskritische Untersuchung zu den synoptischen Evangelien, BZNW 96 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1998), 232–35. Meiser’s portrayal in general, however, shows the problematic tendency to emphasize the differentiation between the disciples and the crowds, while the distinction between the authorities and the crowds is not sufficiently clarified (236–42).



The Role of the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew 225

reactions to Jesus’s ministry (9:32–34; 12:22–24; see also 21:1–17); and finally, through a series of redactional interventions, sought to convey the impression of a positive reaction to Jesus among the crowds, to the point that the christological insight that Jesus is the promised Davidic Messiah in whom God attends to his people has ripened within them. However, we still have to address the question of whether they switch sides in Matt 26–27, as is often proposed. 4. The Crowds in Matt 27:11–26 Before we analyze Matt 27:11–26, we should take another look at Matthew’s version of Jesus’s entry into Jerusalem in 21:1–17 in order to note a further important element: after the acclamation of the crowds in verse 9, Matthew has inserted a small scene in verses 10–11 asserting that the whole city of Jerusalem was in turmoil because of this announcement. Two aspects are of particular importance here: (1) The scene in Matt 21:1–11 shows that Matthew clearly distinguishes the crowds who respond positively to Jesus’s ministry from (the people in) Jerusalem. This implies that Jerusalem does not serve as a pars pro toto to represent all Israel in Matthew’s story. (2) The phrase “the whole city was stirred” (ἐσείσθη πᾶσα ἡ πόλις) in 21:10 recalls the ταράσσεσθαι of “all Jerusalem” (πᾶσα Ἱεροσόλυμα) in 2:3. In both cases Matthew speaks emphatically of the whole city, and it is the announcement of the coming of the Davidic Messiah that brings the city into turmoil in 2:2–3 as well as in 21:9–10.33 In neither passage does Matthew explicitly speak of a hostile reaction of the city. Rather, the reader may conclude that Jerusalem’s inhabitants are alarmed because of the messianic message, since they can imagine that a reaction of the political establishment will follow. On the other hand, these passages set up the constellation for the passion. In Matt 2:3–6, the high priests and scribes are introduced into the story. In 21:15 they reappear in this combination for the first time as actors on the level of the narrated story, which amplifies the connection between Matt 2 and 21:1–17. In Matt 2, Herod seeks to get rid of the “newborn king of the Jews” (2:2) with the assistance of the high priests and scribes, who identify the king 33. On the analogy between Matt 2 and 21, see the synopsis in Matthias Konradt, “Die Deutung der Zerstörung Jerusalems und des Tempels im Matthäusevangelium,” in Konradt, Studien zum Matthäusevangelium, ed. Alida Euler, WUNT 358 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016), 225.

226

Matthias Konradt

as the messianic shepherd of Israel (2:4, 6). Herod’s attempt fails. With the reappearance of the high priests and scribes in connection with Jerusalem, Matt 21 sets the scene for the Jewish authorities’ attempt to achieve what Herod had failed to accomplish. Furthermore, the way is paved for the negative role of Jerusalem in Matthew’s configuration of the story of conflict not only by the insertion of Jerusalem already in the first announcement of Jesus’s suffering in 16:21, but also, more importantly, by the crowds’ answer to Jerusalem’s question, “Who is this?” (21:10), in verse 11. Matthew has the crowds identify the one whom they have just acclaimed as the Son of David, not simply as Jesus from Nazareth, but as “the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee,” thereby creating a subtle reference to Jesus’s lament over Jerusalem as the city that kills prophets in 23:37–39.34 In other words, in light of 23:37–39, it is likely that Matthew alludes to the tradition of the violent fate of the prophets in 21:11, as he does elsewhere in the gospel.35 Matthew 21:11 and 23:37–39 thus insinuate that Jerusalem is not only the place where Jesus will be killed (16:21) but, more specifically, the city that will kill Jesus. What does this mean for the interpretation of Matt 27:11–26? With the insertion of 27:24–25, Matthew emphasizes that the people gathered before Pilate are responsible for the verdict, whereas Pilate seeks to exonerate himself. However, the people and Pilate are not presented from the beginning as opponents, but rather Pilate and the Jewish authorities are, both of whom attempt to use the people in order to achieve their goal.36 The Jewish authorities seek Jesus’s crucifixion, while Pilate seeks his release, for “he knew that they had handed him over out of envy” (27:18). Pilate apparently believes the crowds are on his side37 and thus sees the 34. There is no indication that specifically the expectation of the eschatological prophet is in view here. So also, e.g., Cousland, Crowds in the Gospel, 213–17; contra Lidija Novakovic, “Jesus as the Davidic Messiah in Matthew,” HBT 19 (1997): 161, and others. On the interpretation of Matt 21:11 see Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 98–99. The relation between 21:9–11 and 23:37–39 is further solidified by the repetition in 23:39 of the words of the psalm in the crowds’ cry from 21:9 (see Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:125–26). 35. In addition to Matt 21:11 and 23:37, see also 5:12; 21:35–36; 23:30–31, 34–36. For the evidence in the sources and for secondary literature on the violent fate of the prophets, see the references in Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 174–75 n. 41. 36. See Gielen, Konflikt Jesu, 377. 37. See John Paul Heil, The Death and Resurrection of Jesus: A Narrative-Critical Reading of Matthew 26–28 (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991), 73–74.



The Role of the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew 227

custom of the Passover amnesty as a suitable way to render the authorities’ effort fruitless. Significantly, Pilate himself (and not the people, as is the case in Mark 15:8) initiates the Passover amnesty (Matt 27:15–17) and thus brings the “crowd” (ὄχλος) gathered before him into play—circumventing the chief priests and elders who were accusing Jesus (27:12–13). Pilate notably presents the crowd with an alternative, but in so doing he attempts to influence the people’s decision in Jesus’s favor by offering up Barabbas, a “notorious” prisoner. This stands in contrast to Jesus, whom he identifies from the Jewish perspective as the one “who is called Christ” (ὁ λεγόμενος χριστός; 27:17), rather than speaking in gentile terms of “the king of the Jews” (see 27:11, 29, 37; see also 2:2).38 Nevertheless, events take an unexpected turn in verse 20 as the message from Pilate’s wife (v. 19) causes an interruption, giving the chief priests and the elders an opportunity to react to the new situation brought about by Pilate’s appeal to the Passover amnesty by seducing the gathered people (v. 20)39 into asking for Barabbas’s release and to have Jesus put to death. The Jewish authorities, then, not Pilate, succeed in using the people to achieve their own aim. The replacement of “they stirred up” (ἀνέσεισαν; Mark 15:11) with “they persuaded” (ἔπεισαν; Matt 27:20; see 28:14) likely serves to make the scene relevant to the Matthean audience, or to enable its paraenetical use. The seduction of the people gathered before Pilate becomes paradigmatic for any instance of the authorities misleading their own people, and thus on the level of communication serves as a harsh warning against trusting the authorities. As I have argued in detail elsewhere, the change from “crowd” (ὄχλος; 27:15, 20, 24) to “all the people” (πᾶς ὁ λαός) in verse 25 does not imply that the crowd gathered before Pilate represents all Israel in the strict sense of the word; rather, it simply classifies the crowd as belonging to Israel and thus indicates that the action of the crowd is an event in Israel that takes its place in line with the resistance to God’s messengers throughout Israel’s

38. See Gielen, Konflikt Jesu, 376, 381. 39. Joachim Gnilka, Das Matthäusevangelium, 2nd ed., HTKNT 1/1–2 (Freiburg: Herder, 1986–1988), 2:457, aptly notes that it is implicit “daß das Volk bis dahin noch unentschlossen gewesen wäre.” See also Fiedler, Matthäusevangelium, 409. Ἔπεισαν (“seducing”) undoubtedly has this pejorative sense here. See Alexander Sand, “πείθω,” EWNT 3:149; Hubert Frankemölle, Matthäus: Kommentar (Düsseldorf: Patmos, 1994–1997), 2:479, among others.

228

Matthias Konradt

history (see 21:33–46).40 In seeking to identify the crowds more precisely, one must consider the preceding guidance of the reader: in light of 2:3; 16:21; 21:10–11; and 23:37(–39), Matthew must have in mind the inhabitants of Jerusalem.41 First, “all the people” (πᾶς ὁ λαός) not only, in the more immediate context, picks up “all” (πάντες) from 27:22, but at the same time connects with 21:10 (“the whole city” [πᾶσα ἡ πόλις]) and with 2:3 (“all Jerusalem” [πᾶσα Ἱεροσόλυμα]), where the motif that the “king of the Jews” (2:2, see 27:11, 29, 37) will face severe opposition is introduced.42 Second, as mentioned above, Jerusalem is explicitly labeled as the city that kills the prophets in 23:37, while 21:10–11 insinuates that this description also applies to Jesus’s fate in Jerusalem. Finally, the identification of “all the people” (πᾶς ὁ λαός) in 27:25 with a crowd from Jerusalem is substantiated by the horizon of judgment introduced in 27:25b, where Matthew takes up a legal phrase from Old Testament.43 Using the words “his blood be on us” 40. See Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 153–66. 41. In this vein also, e.g., J. Andrew Overman, “Heroes and Villains in Palestinian Lore: Matthew’s Use of Traditional Jewish Polemic in the Passion Narrative,” in Society of Biblical Literature 1990 Seminar Papers, SBLSP 29 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990), 599–600; Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 38; AmyJill Levine, “Anti-Judaism and the Gospel of Matthew,” in Anti-Judaism and the Gospels, ed. William R. Farmer (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 1999), 34; Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 293–303; and Knut Backhaus, “Entgrenzte Himmelsherrschaft: Zur Entdeckung der paganen Welt im Matthäusevangelium,” in “Dies ist das Buch …”: Das Matthäusevangelium: Interpretation—Rezeption—Rezeptionsgeschichte, ed. Rainer Kampling (Paderborn: Bonifatius, 2004), 97: “Die ‘antwortende’ Schar repräsentiert konkret die von den religiösen Verantwortungsträgern aufgewiegelten Jerusalemer ὄχλοι (vgl. 27,20.24). Das Adjektiv πᾶς (vgl. 27,22: πάντες) beschreibt nicht ein darüber hinausreichendes ethnisch-religiöses Kollektiv, sondern gehört zur Inszenierung des θόρυβος (vgl. 26,5; 27,24).” 42. See Wesley G. Olmstead, Matthew’s Trilogy of Parables: The Nation, the Nations and the Reader in Matthew 21:28–22:14, SNTSMS 127 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 62: “ ‘All the people’ recalls both ‘the whole city’ (21.10) and ‘all Jerusalem’ (2.3).” See also Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:594. 43. In LXX: 2 Kgdms (2 Sam) 1:16; 3:28–29; 3 Kgdms (1 Kgs) 2:33, 37; Jer 28:35 LXX [= 51:35 MT]; 33:15 LXX [= 26:15 MT]; Ezek 18:13; further, in the MT only: Lev 20:9, 11, 12, 13, 16, 27; Josh 2:19; see further LAB 6.11; in early Christian texts, Acts 5:28; 18:6. But the case depicted by Matthew, namely, that the blood of another is called on one’s own head, is without parallel in the Old Testament. See, e.g., Dagmar J. Paul, “Untypische” Texte im Matthäusevangelium? Studien zu Charakter, Funktion und Bedeutung einer Textgruppe des matthäischen Sonderguts, NTAbh 2/50 (Münster: Aschendorff, 2005), 93. Testament of Levi 16.3 is Christian. See Jürgen Becker, Unter-



The Role of the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew 229

(τὸ αἷμα αὐτοῦ ἐφ᾿ ἡμᾶς), the people declare their willingness to take on themselves the responsibility for the judgment. This can be paraphrased as “we are prepared to be held liable with our life for the legitimacy of the sentence.” Since the blood they take on themselves is innocent blood, the penalty is inescapable—a penalty that Matthew considers to be manifested in the destruction of Jerusalem.44 For Matthew, this concrete reference made the striking insertion of the children necessary.45 In the evangelist’s view, those who bore the burden of Jesus’s blood were in reality required to pay with their lives, or those of their children (see 22:7). As we have seen, however, Jerusalem does not represent Israel in the Matthean conception. Rather, Matthew depicts different reactions of different crowds. In particular, it is certainly incorrect to conclude from Matt 27:15–26 that the same people who had struck up the “Hosanna to the Son of David” a few days before (21:9) now cry “let him be crucified” (σταυρωθήτω).46 These crowds are not identical. The inhabitants of Jerusalem were first troubled and stirred up by the news about the coming of the messianic king (2:3; 21:10) because they could anticipate the ensuing conflict, and they then allow themselves to be influenced by the authorities. By contrast, the crowds who encountered Jesus during his ministry in Galilee and followed him as pilgrims to Jerusalem are by and large characterized by a positive attitude toward Jesus; they appear as a kind of “potential church,” who in 21:9 even recognize Jesus as the messianic, Davidic shepherd. In closing, we have to ask what this presentation of the (various) crowds might mean for the situation of the Matthean ἐκκλησία. 5. The Presentation of the Crowds and the Situation of Matthew’s Christ-Believing Groups I begin with the function of the crowds in Jerusalem in 27:11–26. It must be emphasized that Matthew does not interpret the destruction of Jerusalem as suchungen zur Entstehungsgeschichte der Testamente der Zwölf Patriarchen, AGJU 8 (Leiden: Brill, 1970), 284–85. 44. Likewise Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:591–92; Repschinski, Controversy Stories, 331; Luz, Matthew, 3:503, among others. 45. Τέκνα accordingly means “the next generation,” not “all following generations.” 46. See Fiedler, Matthäusevangelium, 323; contra Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:589; Donald P. Senior, The Passion of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew (Wilmington, DE: Glazier, 1985), 116, among others.

230

Matthias Konradt

a judgment of Israel. Rather, from Matthew’s intra-Jewish post-70 perspective, Jerusalem serves as a cautionary example: the destruction of Jerusalem is interpreted as God’s judgment against the enemies of Jesus (and his disciples, see 22:7)—that is, the Jewish authorities—and against those who let themselves be persuaded by those authorities, as did the crowd in Jerusalem (27:20). For Matthew, the destruction of Jerusalem reveals who is on God’s side and who is an enemy of God. Thus, the fate of Jerusalem is a severe warning not to listen to the authorities and not to follow their lead. On the other side, the portrayal of the crowds who witnessed Jesus’s Galilean ministry and accompanied him on his way to Jerusalem as well as the pervasive differentiation between these crowds and the authorities makes sense in the context of the Matthean groups’ ongoing missionary efforts to win members among the Jewish “crowds” in their surroundings.47 By emphasizing the positive resonance of Jesus’s ministry, Matthew seeks to encourage further efforts. To be sure, Matt 13:3–23 also addresses negative experiences during the mission, but even this passage includes partial success and, above all, contributes only one aspect to the overall picture.48 Moreover, against the backdrop of the conflict between the Matthean groups and the Pharisees, texts such as 9:33–34 and 12:23–24 can easily be read as reflecting counterpropaganda provoked by the Christ believers’ proclamation.49 Likewise, 28:15 points to contemporaneous counterpro47. In this vein also, for example, Joseph A. Comber, “The Verb Therapeuō in Matthew’s Gospel,” JBL 97 (1978): 433–34: “The crowds of the gospel narrative are a cipher for the Jewish people of Matthew’s time, who are doubtful about whether to follow the new direction set by the Pharisees or to join a community of Jewish-Christians such as Matthew’s gospel reflects. In depicting a fundamentally positive relationship between Jesus and the crowds, Matthew is saying indirectly that his Jewish contemporaries are still the objects of Jesus’s beneficence. Matthew appeals to the ‘Jewish crowds’ of his own day not to follow the leadership of the Pharisees but to join the fellowship of the disciples of Jesus.” See further, e.g., Terence L. Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain: A Study in Matthean Theology, JSNTSup 8 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985), 115; Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 38, 40. On the ongoing mission to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (10:6), see Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, esp. 74–83. 48. On the interpretation of Matt 13:3–23, see Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 244–59. 49. See Meiser, Die Reaktion des Volkes, 260, on 9:34; 12:24; 21:15: “Eigenem Erleben dürfte es auch entsprechen, wenn bei Matthäus die Hierarchen in ihrer ablehnenden Reaktion auf eine im Volk aufkeimende Erkenntnis Jesu (Mt 9,34; 12,24; 21,15f.) als Träger aktiver Gegenpropaganda erscheinen.”



The Role of the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew 231

paganda aimed against the ecclesial message, which Matthew in turn seeks to unmask with his narrative.50 If this contextualization basically points into the right direction, the Matthean groups of Christ believers can hardly be regarded as sharply delineated groups with clear boundaries between themselves and their Jewish environment. They do not appear to be sect-like groups who reflect their special existence in sharp separation from their Jewish environment in the gospel. Although this element can be found in nuce in a text such as Matt 13:10–17, it cannot be applied absolutely; rather, it must be integrated within the larger context in which the missionary orientation constitutes an essential aspect of the Gospel of Matthew.51 It is possible that this missionary dimension in the Matthean ecclesiology reflects a community whose social orientation is fundamentally open to and targeted at outsiders—that is, a community consisting of a nucleus of firm believers and more or less committed members52 as well as those who were simply interested, which thus involved a certain amount of fluctuation. More specifically, one should consider that Matthew may have aimed his Jesus story, at least in part, at an audience of those who were already interested or whose interest Matthew hoped to pique, giving the book itself an advertising or missionary purpose. The development of the portrayal of positive reactions to Jesus among the crowds would in any case fit well with this image. The sharp polemic against the Pharisees as blind guides, the emphasis on their lack of understanding, and the dark picture Matthew paints of the Jewish authorities in general, then, served not only to stabilize the community internally, but also to lead those who were thus far merely interested toward a decision for the community. The interpretation of Jerusalem’s destruction also fits in this perspective as functioning to disqualify the opposition in the community’s conflict with the Pharisaic synagogue and legitimate the position of the Christ believers. The crowds must know who is to be trusted and followed.

50. See, e.g., Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:697. 51. On the importance of the missionary dimension in Matthew’s ecclesiology see Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 328–32. 52. The problem of small faith can only be briefly mentioned here (see Matt 6:30; 8:26; 14:31; 16:8; 17:20).

Whose King Is He Anyway? What Herod Tells Us about Matthew Wayne Baxter

1. Introduction It has become axiomatic to speak of Matthew as a Jewish gospel. While commentators throughout the history of biblical studies have long recognized the Jewishness of the First Gospel, at one level the statement says very little. Paul, for example, was Jewish, and although his heart remained steadfast for his people—even wishing to be cursed if it might result in their salvation (Rom 9:1–3; 10:1)—he devoted his life to the gentile mission. The contributors to the present volume believe that to say Matthew is Jewish means (at least) that he thinks more like a Jew in many ways than scores of his contemporaries in the Jesus movement. While his Jewish way of thinking comes to expression diversely throughout his gospel, this study examines how Matthew’s portrayal of Jesus as Israel’s king in the birth and infancy traditions, particularly in close juxtaposition to Herod, reveals the evangelist’s Jewish-traditionalist socioreligious orientation.1 The study will commence by assessing the figure of Herod in the Synoptic Gospels and in the writings of Josephus.2 The analysis will focus more on Herod’s function 1. A Jewish-traditionalist socioreligious orientation manifests in a variety of beliefs and practices that would not be so frequently maintained among the gentile constituency of the Jesus movement; for example, close adherence to the torah and belief in eschatological salvation for national Israel. For an in-depth delineation of this type of Jewish expression, see Wayne Baxter, Israel’s Only Shepherd: Matthew’s Shepherd Motif and His Social Setting, LNTS 457 (London: T&T Clark, 2012), 181–95. 2. The story of Jesus spans four decades. Thus, “Herod” has three different referents in the gospels: Herod the Great, Herod Achelaus, and Herod Antipas. The present study follows the position persuasively argued by Frank Dicken, Herod as a Composite

-233-

234

Wayne Baxter

within the respective narratives than on his characterization.3 Because of the literary significance of how documents begin, the study will highlight how each book commences and how the authors introduce Herod into their work in order to evaluate his function and significance in each text.4 Next, Matthew’s presentation of Jesus and Herod’s role will be explored in the birth and infancy traditions, with comparisons made, and conclusions drawn about the evangelist’s socioreligious orientation. 2. Presenting the King 2.1. Herod in Mark The introduction of Mark’s Gospel (1:1–15),5 starting with “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (1:1),6 outlines how Character in Luke-Acts, WUNT 2/375 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013). By “composite character” Dicken means “an amalgamation of multiple historic people that appears as a single character in a literary work” (2). That ancient writers employ composite characters can be seen in Second Temple Jewish writings such as, for example, Judith, where “Nebuchadnezzar” is identified as the king of Assyria—an obvious conflation of the Assyrian and Babylonian empires expressed in the one, infamous figure. 3. In Luke-Acts Dicken observes that “Herod” embodies “political opposition toward the protagonists of Luke-Acts as an outworking of Satanic attempts to hinder the proclamation of the gospel” (Herod as a Composite Character, 3). The other Synoptic Gospel writers, given their smaller size—i.e., compared to Luke-Acts—and their different emphases probably do not use “Herod” as a composite character in quite the same way as Luke. But given the overall portrayal of Herod in their respective stories, Herod would have for them embodied the ruling power governing Palestine during the days of Jesus, characterized as evil and standing in opposition to Jesus and God’s kingdom. The link Luke draws, for example, in Acts 4:24–27 between YHWH’s opponents in Ps 2 and Jesus’s rivals also appears in Matthew, who makes this connection through his citation of Zech 11 and Jer 32 in Matt 27:3–10. 4. Dennis E. Smith demonstrates the weight that ancient Greco-Roman authors placed on the beginning of their text. See Smith, “Narrative Beginnings in Ancient Literature and Theory,” Semeia 52 (1991): 1–7. Morna D. Hooker comments, “[The beginning] provides important clues about the meaning of the material that lies in between.… [They] not only explain the importance of their narratives, but give us the key information that will enable us to understand them.” See Hooker, “Beginnings and Endings,” in The Written Gospel, ed. Markus Bockmuehl and Donald Hagner (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 184, 186. 5. While some scholars offer a nuanced difference between an introduction and a prologue (see, for example, Joseph B. Tyson, “The Birth of Narratives and the Begin-



Whose King Is He Anyway? 235

the “good news” of Jesus proceeds: it originates theologically speaking in the prophetic witness of ancient Scripture (vv. 2–3), narratively speaking with the activity and testimony of John the Baptist (vv. 4–8), revelationally speaking with the heavenly descent of the Holy Spirit and the voice of God proclaiming Jesus’s divine sonship at his baptism (v. 11), and it climaxes in the life and witness of Jesus himself (vv. 12–15). Several things stand out in Mark’s prologue, particularly as it relates to focus of the present study. Mark highlights the theological setting of his presentation of Jesus. The proclamation of Jesus Christ begins in the wilderness (ἔρημος).7 Only in Mark among the Synoptics does ἔρημος appear three times in the Baptist-baptismal account.8 The wilderness background is amplified by his citation of Scripture. Scholars agree that the evangelist blends three different texts together in his “opening scriptural salvo”: Exod 23:20a; Mal 3:1; Isa 40:3.9 The first text speaks of God’s promise to provide for his people in the wilderness, having rescued them from Egypt; the third one10 proclaims deliverance from Babylonian exile. Thus, in locating “the beginning of the gospel” in the wilderness, and coloring it with the first and second great exoduses of God’s people, Mark makes known to his audience from the outset that the good news is that Jesus has come to lead his people out in a new exodus.11 The thrust of Mark’s introduction is to validate the person ning of Luke’s Gospel,” Semeia 52 [1991]: 104–5), the present study employs these terms interchangeably. The exact delimitation of Mark’s introduction is disputed: either vv. 1–8, 1–11, 1–13, or 1–15; see Eugene Boring, “Mark 1:1–15 and the Beginning of the Gospel,” Semeia 52 (1991): 53–58. A difference in the introduction’s length, however, would not affect the thesis of this study. 6. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations are my own. The reading of υἱοῦ θεοῦ for v. 1 is debated: the UBS 5th ed. includes it and rates its decision a C. Neither its inclusion nor its omission affects the thesis of this study. 7. For a detailed discussion of the wilderness motif in Mark, see Ulrich W. Mauser, Christ in the Wilderness: The Wilderness Theme in the Second Gospel and Its Basis in the Biblical Tradition (London: SCM, 1963). 8. The double mention of ἔρημος in each of vv. 2–3 and vv. 12–13 serves to bookend the baptismal account. 9. R. T. France, The Gospel of Mark, NIGTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 63. See, for example, William L. Lane, The Gospel of Mark, NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974), 45–46; Mark L. Strauss, Mark, ZECNT (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2014), 62–63; C. E. B. Cranfield, The Gospel according to Saint Mark (repr., Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 39. 10. Only the Isaianic logion appears in the parallels in Matthew and Luke. 11. See Rikki E. Watts, Isaiah’s New Exodus in Mark (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2000);

236

Wayne Baxter

and message of Jesus—that he is the Christ, God’s Son—as the scriptural prophecies, the prophetic testimony of John the Baptist, the descent of the Holy Spirit, the divine pronouncement of Jesus’s identity, and Christ’s own proclamation of God’s kingdom all bear witness. Besides John the Baptist, the only other (earthly) characters that appear in the prologue are the crowds of Judeans and Jerusalemites who come to John for baptism (v. 5).12 Not until the account of John the Baptist’s beheading in 6:14–29 does Herod—Herod Antipas, son of Herod the Great—come into view in the gospel.13 Mark brings him into the story using the designation “King Herod” (v. 14).14 When reports of Jesus’s miracles reach the ears of Herod, the king believes that Jesus is John the Baptist redivivus. The pericope gives the reader a brief glimpse into the character of the king. Herod had been involved in an unlawful union with his wife Herodias (v. 17b).15 John’s persistent critique of the marriage resulted in Herod arranging for the Baptist’s incarceration (v. 17a)—despite recognizing John as a “righteous and holy” prophet from God (v. 20). Besides Joel Marcus, The Way of the Lord: Christological Exegesis of the Old Testament in the Gospel of Mark (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1992). 12. Subsequent to the introduction, Jesus’s first disciples—Simon, Andrew, John, and James—emerge in the narrative (1:16–20). Some of the other characters who appear early in the story include Simon’s mother-in-law (1:30–31), a leper (1:40–45a), the paralytic and his four companions (2:1–3), the scribes (2:6–7, 16), the disciple Levi (2:14), the Pharisees (2:24), the Herodians (3:6), the Gerasene demoniac (5:1– 6), Jairus the synagogue official (5:22), the hemorrhaging woman (5:25–29), and the townsfolk of Nazareth (6:2–6). 13. On the importance of the first appearance of a name within a narrative, see Dicken, Herod as a Composite Character, 31–32; Thomas Docherty, Reading (Absent) Character: Towards a Theory of Characterization in Fiction (Oxford: Clarendon, 1983), 47. Docherty deals with fiction, but the wider principle of proper names within literary works would still apply. 14. Technically, Herod Antipas was not a king but a tetrarch (see Matt 14:9; Luke 9:7). S. Anthony Cummins argues that the “concentrated use” of βασιλεύς in the passage reflects Mark’s allusive appropriation of Esther in his account. See Cummins, “Integrated Scripture, Embedded Empire: The Ironic Interplay of ‘King’ Herod, John and Jesus in Mark 6:1–44,” in The Gospel of Mark, vol. 1 of Biblical Interpretation in Early Christian Gospels, ed. Thomas R. Hatina, LNTS 304 (London: T&T Clark, 2006), 31–48. 15. According to Josephus the marriage was doubly scandalous: he had wed his brother Philip’s wife—something only permissible as a Levirate marriage, which it was not; and Herodias had initiated the divorce proceedings against Philip—contrary to Jewish law (see France, Mark, 256–57).



Whose King Is He Anyway? 237

portraying Herod as a Mosaic lawbreaker, the royal-banquet story shows him to be foolish and rash because of his ill-advised vow to his stepdaughter after her pleasing dance performance. The intercalation serves ultimately, on the one hand, to illustrate the immense cost of discipleship. The voice of the one who cried out in the wilderness bearing witness to Jesus is imprisoned and executed. Further, the dividing of the commission of the Twelve to preach (6:7–13) and their reporting back to Jesus (v. 30) suggests that the interlude represents Mark’s version of Matthew’s explicit warning Jesus gave the disciples about encountering persecution while on mission (Matt 10:16–23).16 On the other hand, the passage implicitly draws a parallel between John the Baptist and Jesus: both challenged the ruling authorities, both were “righteous and holy” (ἅγιος), both were killed for their respective stances17—John for preaching against Herod’s scandalous marriage and Jesus because of his messianic claims that put him at odds with the religious leaders; and whereas rumors spread about John’s resurrection, the “young man” later notifies the women at the tomb that Jesus rose from the dead (16:6). Furthermore, the interlude, when taken together with the feeding miracle (6:33–44), allows Mark to draw an additional yet subtle contrast between Herod and Jesus through the meals they respectively adjudicate.18 Herod throws himself an opulent birthday celebration that climaxes in carnal activity,19 but Jesus, filled with compassion, feeds the hungry with only two fish and five loaves. Whereas Herod parties in the palace, Jesus teaches in the wilderness. Herod’s banquet is for a small and prestigious group: “his great people, military commanders, and the leading persons of Galilee” (v. 21b), or as Mark Strauss aptly puts it, “ ‘everyone who is

16. Mark draws a linguistic parallel between John and Jesus’s disciples: he describes John’s activity as κηρύσσων βάπτισμα μετανοίας (1:4) and characterizes the deeds of Jesus’s disciples as ἐκήρυξαν ἵνα μετανοῶσιν (6:13). 17. John’s disciples, consequently, came and ἔθηκαν αὐτὸ ἐν μνηείῳ (6:29); likewise, after Jesus dies his disciples come and ἔθηκαν αὐτὸν ἐν μνηείῳ (15:46). 18. What strengthens this comparison is the eschatological, messianic banquet overtones intrinsic to the first feeding—something many scholars readily recognize. See, for example, Strauss, Mark, 279; France, Mark, 260; Lane, Mark, 232–33. 19. Lane notes that “the dance was unquestionably lascivious, designed to captivate and further the ends of the dancer” and that the performance pleased the guests “precisely because it was the princess who danced [and not the expected professionals]” (Mark, 221).

238

Wayne Baxter

anyone’—the political, military, and social elite.”20 Jesus, however, serves not just the privileged few but the multitudes—which Mark numbers at five thousand—who are not the elite but those who are “like sheep without a shepherd” (v. 34). Herod “orders” (ἐπιτάσσω) that John be executed and “gives” (δίδωμι) the head to Herodias’s daughter, who gives it to her mother; Jesus “commands” (ἐπιτάσσω) the crowd to recline on the grass, and he “gives” (δίδωμι) the food to his disciples, who distribute it to the masses. In the Second Gospel, then, Mark begins his story with the thriceauthenticated proclamation of the good news of Jesus Christ, who has come to lead God’s people out of their moral wilderness into a new exodus. The prologue is void of any explicit kingship imagery. While he introduces various characters in the early part of his narrative, Herod does not appear until the flashback to John the Baptist’s execution. While Mark portrays the king as a foolish and rash violator of the Mosaic law, he uses Herod to draw a parallel between John and Jesus: both challenged and suffered under his reign. Moreover, he also employs Herod as a foil for Jesus: whereas Herod cares only for the elite, Jesus is the true shepherd who selflessly exercises compassion on the disadvantaged, satisfying their needs. 2.2. Herod in Luke While his name appears near the beginning of the Third Gospel, Herod as a character never factors into the opening narrative.21 Instead Luke uses his name as a way of drawing an outline around his birth and infancy traditions: the encounter in the temple between Zechariah and the angel Gabriel takes place “in the days of Herod, king of Judea” (1:5), and John’s baptismal activity in the Jordan commences during the rule of “Herod the tetrarch of Galilee” (3:1). By framing the birth traditions with “Herod,” the evangelist draws a soft contrast between the reign of Herod the Great and the activity of God (described therein). According to Luke, during Herod’s 20. Strauss, Mark, 265. For “great people,” the Greek term μεγιστάν (a cognate of μέγα) appears only here and twice in Revelation. In Rev 6:15 it appears in close connection to βασιλεύς; in Rev 18:23 it refers to Babylon’s merchants, who are described as rich. 21. For a more expansive analysis of “Herod” in Luke, see Dicken, Herod as a Composite Character, esp. 62–124. Most scholars understand the gospel’s prologue to consist of the first two chapters; see Tyson, “Birth of Narratives,” 103–4.



Whose King Is He Anyway? 239

rule a heightening in prophetic activity takes place, marked by two angelophanies, one to Zechariah (to announce birth of John the Baptist; 1:8–25) and one to Mary (to announce the birth of Jesus; 1:26–38); the work of the Holy Spirit as he moves on and inspires the prophetic actions of Elizabeth (1:39–45), Zechariah (1:67–80), Simeon (2:25–35), and Anna (2:36–38); and the manifestation of an angelic collective to the shepherds (2:8–20). Whereas in Mark the appearance of Herod is preceded by a wide array of figures, Luke restricts his characters to the three who prophesy (above), the family of John, the family of Jesus, and angels. The opening section of the gospel serves to depict the saving power and personal compassion of God. For Luke, YHWH mightily reverses tragic circumstances: from barrenness he brings forth special fruitfulness, and he overturns natural impossibilities by enabling a virgin to conceive. YHWH accomplishes all of these things in order to fulfill his higher purpose, that is, to bring his Messiah into the world, whose birth he announces not to the aristocracy but to lowly shepherd outcasts. The character of Herod first surfaces in Luke’s account of John’s baptismal activity (3:1–22). The evangelist builds on Mark’s comment about Herod’s unethical marriage (“But Herod the tetrarch, who had been rebuked by him because of Herodias, his brother’s wife” [v. 19a]) by adding, “and concerning all the evil things Herod did, he also added to them all: he even shut up John in prison” (vv. 19b–20). Luke thus views Herod as a wicked ruler—an adulterer and doer of many evil things, such as imprisoning John. His placement of Herod at this particular juncture of the narrative suggests that he intends more than simply to describe the prophet’s demise. Contrary to Matthew and Mark, Luke bifurcates his report of John’s preaching-baptismal activity with the explanation of his fate. Further, only Luke concludes John’s message with, “Therefore, exhorting many other things he preached the gospel [εὐαγγελίζω] to the people” (v. 18) just before explaining John’s fate under Herod. The evangelist uses his account to demonstrate the power of God’s word: it cannot be silenced by even the sternest resistance. Luke’s wording here recalls earlier pericopes: God had sent the angel Gabriel to “preach the gospel” (εὐαγγελίζω) to John’s father (1:8–22), but because Zechariah did not believe his “words” (λόγοι) he was struck with silence. When he regains his voice, he prophesies of God’s future deeds that he will accomplish through his son John in connection to the Messiah. Consequently, despite fierce opposition from King Herod, “the word [λόγος] of God [which] came to John” (3:2) still result in the revelation of the Messiah through John’s baptismal activity.

240

Wayne Baxter

Luke completes the Synoptic account of John’s arrest following Mark’s order, that is, after the mission of the Twelve. The evangelist subtly layers this report on top of the earlier one in chapter 3. Herod reacts to reports of the Twelve “preaching the gospel” (εὐαγγελίζω; 9:6b)—the very thing John had done previously that led to his incarceration. Herod recalls this and categorically declares, “John, I myself beheaded” (9:9a).22 His name recurs in Luke’s travel narrative to Jerusalem, where the Pharisees entreat Jesus to flee the region because Herod (not surprisingly, given the previous story) seeks to kill him (13:31). Upon reaching the city, the authorities arrest Jesus and bring him before Pilate, who sends him to Herod. Luke writes that Herod had long welcomed an audience with Jesus because of the reports about him, hoping that he would perform a miracle for him (23:8).23 Jesus, however, does not oblige, nor even answer any of his questions. Herod therefore sends him back to Pilate despite recognizing Jesus’s innocence (23:15), thereby reinforcing the evangelist’s earlier profile of him: “all the evil things Herod did” (3:19b). In sum, the Third Gospel begins by depicting how God powerfully brings about the fulfillment of his long-awaited salvation for his people Israel through the birth and mission of the Messiah’s forerunner, John the Baptist, and moreover, through the birth and mission of God’s Messiah, Jesus. In accomplishing Israel’s salvation, God’s mighty deeds manifest in angelophanies, Spirit-empowered prophetic words, and miraculous births. While the in-breaking of God’s kingdom takes place during the reign of Herod, the evangelist does not bring the king into his story until the account of John’s incarceration, thereby deploying him to demonstrate the overpowering nature of God’s salvation, which, even after Herod imprisons God’s spokesperson, is nonetheless revealed most unambiguously in Jesus. 2.3. Herod in Josephus Josephus devotes a substantial amount of text to Herod in Bellum judaicum.24 He makes the purpose of this work clear in his preface: whereas 22. The insertion of ἔγω makes his declaration emphatic: “I myself.” 23. In hoping for a sign Herod thus confirms his evil orientation (see 3:19), since Jesus warns that only an evil generation seeks signs from him (11:29). 24. For a detailed analysis of the Herod narratives in Josephus, see Tamar Landau, Out-Heroding Herod: Josephus, Rhetoric, and the Herod Narratives, AJEC 63 (Leiden: Brill, 2006). See also Jan W. van Henten, who focuses on the characterization of Herod



Whose King Is He Anyway? 241

others have previously undertaken to write a history of Jewish wars, their accounts have been full of contradictions and tinged with biases—either for the Romans or against the Jews—resulting in works that overestimate Rome’s greatness or diminish Jewish activity (B.J. 1.1–2). Josephus, therefore, seeks to set the record straight on this matter by offering a “contemporary historiography concentrating on one major event.”25 Toward the close of the preface, he outlines the content of his project, centering his summary around nine monarchs: beginning with Antiochus Epiphanes and the Maccabean sedition and ending with Titus and the First Jewish Revolt. Of the nine names listed Herod’s appears twice: he dissolved Hasmonean governance and his death triggered a rebellion. While the bulk of the Herod stories in Bellum judaicum have little bearing for the present study,26 there are a number of key facets to his presentation, the first of which concerns Herod’s entrance into the narrative. Cassius invaded Judah and executed the lead supporter of Aristobulus at the advice of Antipater, whom, Josephus records, had four sons: “Phasaelus and Herod, who was afterwards king” (1.181).27 He identifies Herod according to his future regency. A second noteworthy feature revolves around the use of honorific titles. Antony, after hearing of Herod’s difficult circumstances and remembering his friendship with Herod’s father, Antipater, as well as Herod’s virtue, resolves to appoint Herod βασιλέα Ἰουδαίων (“king of the Jews”; 1.282). Later, after Caesar bests Antony at Actium, a fearful Herod sails to Rhodes to curry Caesar’s support for his kingdom. He begins his address with the declaration, “O Caesar, as I was made king over all [Jews] by Antony” (1.388).28 Moved by his speech, Caesar responds, “You shall in “Matthew 2:16 and Josephus’ Portrayals of Herod,” in Jesus, Paul, and Early Christianity: Studies in Honour of Henk Jan de Jonge, ed. Rieuwerd Buitenwerf, Harm Hollander, and Johannes Tromp, NovTSup 130 (Leiden: Brill, 2008), especially 108–14. 25. So Landau, Out-Heroding Herod, 13. 26. For a brief synopsis of how the Herod narrative proceeds, see Landau, OutHeroding Herod, 70. Van Henten summarizes Josephus’s characterization of Herod in his writings as a “bloodthirsty tyrant” by nature, whose “tyrannical character only became fully manifest at the end of his life” (“Matthew 2:16 and Josephus’ Portrayals,” 119–20). 27. Unless otherwise stated, all translations of Josephus are my own. 28. Based on the inscription “Regi Herodi Iudaic[o]” (“king of the Jews”) on some pottery found at Masada. See Hannah Cotton and Joseph Geiger, “Wine for Herod,” Cathedra 53 (1989): 3–12. Doron Mendels asserts that Herod desired not merely to be “king of Judea” but “king of the Jews.” See Mendels, The Rise and Fall of Jewish

242

Wayne Baxter

be saved and you shall reign [βασιλεύσεις] now more firmly than before” (1.391). Thus, Herod’s political status as king has import for Josephus. Like Bellum judaicum, a significant portion of Anitquitates judaicae deals with Herod.29 According to its preface, this monumental work describes the origin of the Jews, their Scriptures, their government, their history, their national piety, and their (unwilling) engagement with the Romans in the First Jewish Revolt. For Josephus, key to understanding Jewish history lies in the person of Moses, their “legislator” (A.J. 1.15, 18, 24), his writings, his law, and its (Greco-Roman) philosophical underpinnings, all of which offer an apologetic for Judaism.30 Because of the text’s chronological orientation, Herod does not appear until near the midway point. In the parallel account to Cassius’s invasion, Josephus writes how Antipater had four sons: “Phasaelus and Herod, who was afterwards king” (14.121). In terms of honorific titles, two accounts stand out. Similar to Bellum judaicum, Josephus ascribes the title “king of the Jews” to Herod. Additionally, after the victory near Samosata Josephus describes how the people called Herod σωτῆρα (“savior”; A.J. 14.441).31 Anitquitates judaicae 15 recounts how Herod began to persecute Jews for openly practicing their religion. Whereas he dealt harshly with the Pharisees, Herod treated the Essenes well because of an encounter he once had with one of them as child (15.365–372): an Essene prophet, Manahem, upon seeing the boy Herod on his way to school, saluted him as βασιλέα Ἰουδαίων (15.373), predicting, “You shall reign [βασιλεύσεις] … and [your] rule will happily take off, for you have been deemed worthy by God” (15.374). One further insightful reference to Herod concerns the incident of David’s sepulcher. Anitquitates judaicae 13.249 describes how the unpopular high priest Hyrcanus opened the sepulcher of David and took out three thouNationalism: Jewish and Christian Ethnicity in Ancient Palestine, ABRL (New York: Doubleday, 1992), 284, 322 n. 22. 29. Van Henten notes that the biggest difference in the portrayals of Herod between Bellum judaicum and Anitquitates judaicae is that the former negatively depicts the king in an implicit manner, while the latter does so explicitly (“Matthew 2:16 and Josephus’ Portrayals,” 108–14). 30. See Gregory E. Sterling, Historiography and Self Definition: Josephos, LukeActs and Apologetic Historiography, NovTSup 64 (Leiden: Brill, 2014). 31. Landau goes so far as to assert that Josephus depicts Herod as a “savior of his country,” insofar as Josephus describes Herod pacifying seditions, establishing close ties with Rome, and building cities as well as the Jewish temple (Out-Heroding Herod, 82).



Whose King Is He Anyway? 243

sand talents to pay for an army of foreign troops. Generations later Herod learns of Hyrcanus’s act and does likewise in order to spend it on cities. Whereas the text gives no hint of difficulty for Hyrcanus when he did this, the same cannot be said for Herod: he opens the sepulcher at night so that no one will know of it (16.180), and Josephus mentions the rumor that, in Herod’s attempt to scour the tomb of its wealth, two of the guards were set upon by mysterious flames, causing him to exit hastily (16.182). Moreover, not only does Josephus describe Herod’s deed as being of ill repute (16.183), but he surmises that it caused many troubles for the royal family—whether as a direct act of God’s judgment on him or indirectly as a consequence for the impiety of his act (16.188). This story of David’s sepulcher, then, implies that Herod was not viewed as the legitimate heir to David’s throne. In sum, Herod’s name twice appears in the preface that lists the kings of Israel. Josephus introduces Herod into his narrative by referring to his future kingship; and several times he is referred to as “king of the Jews” who will reign over his people, even being called “savior.” Yet despite ruling over the Jews, doubts remain concerning the legitimacy of his claim to David’s throne. 3. Presenting Jesus and Herod in Matthew Matthew’s Gospel opens with “The book of the Genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham” (v. 1).32 The evangelist substantiates Jesus’s Davidic lineage first with a genealogy (1:2–17). While Luke offers a much broader genealogy for Jesus,33 Matthew’s remains far more focused on the ancient, national promise of a king for Israel. Therefore, he seeks to legitimize Jesus’s claim to David’s throne. That Davidic descendancy is the central thrust of the genealogy is demonstrated in four ways: the appel32. Although scholars have debated the length of Matthew’s prologue (see, e.g., Edgar Krentz), this study follows the consensus that the first two chapters form the introductory unit. See Krentz, “The Extent of Matthew’s Prologue: Toward the Structure of the First Gospel,” JBL 83 (1964): 409–14. Because, as Bernard B. Scott insightfully points out, 3:1–4:16 reinforces and develops the motifs depicted in the gospel’s opening chapters, a longer prologue would not affect the thesis of the present study. See Scott, “The Birth of the Reader,” Semeia 52 (1991): 83–101. 33. That Luke’s list includes far more names, that his order ascends to Adam, and that he places it before Jesus begins his mission all suggest that Luke seeks to highlight the universality of God’s salvation through Jesus—something he hints at in his birth and infancy traditions (see Luke 1:79; 2:10, 14, 30–32).

244

Wayne Baxter

lation of “the king” when David’s name first enters the list (i.e., “David the king,” v. 6b); the frequent use of the name “David” (four times rather than simply two, like the other names on the list); the three fourteens that make up the genealogy’s structure as well as the threefold repetition of fourteen—according to gematria, the three consonants of David’s name in Hebrew (‫ )דוד‬numerically add up to fourteen; and, last, David’s position within the structure of the genealogy: his name serves as a bridge between Abraham and the Babylonian exile. Therefore, Jesus is not merely “a son of David,” like his father Joseph (v. 20b); he is the Son of David (1:1), the rightful successor to David the king and the one divinely appointed to his father David’s throne. Thus, for Matthew the story of Jesus begins with a reckoning of his kingship. After establishing Jesus’s Davidic ancestry and consequently his legitimacy as the rightful heir to David’s throne, Matthew offers the account of Jesus’s birth in 1:18–25, which serves to reinforce in a different manner the divine sanctioning of Jesus’s place on Israel’s throne. First, whereas previous rulers of Israel became God’s children via adoption upon ascending to the throne,34 Jesus’s birth is not merely miraculous—he is actually God’s offspring: the narrator describes Mary as “being with child because of the Holy Spirit” (ἐκ πνεύματος ἁγίου; v. 18b) and “for that which is born in her is by the Holy Spirit” (ἐκ πνεύματος ἐστιν ἁγίου; v. 20b). Far from being God’s son solely because he is Israel’s king, for Matthew Jesus is Israel’s true king precisely because he is God’s son.35 Second, Jesus the Son of David has come for a salvific mission: “and you shall call his name Jesus for he will save [σώσει] his people from their sins” (1:21b; see v. 23b). The Scriptures describe how God raised up rulers in the past to “deliver” (σῴζω; LXX) his people from political oppression. In the era of the judges, YHWH in characteristic manner “raised up judges and saved [σῴζω] [his people] from the hands of those plundering them” (Judg 2:16 LXX).36 This saving extends

34. Thus, for example, God’s promise to David: “I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come forth from your body, and I will establish his kingdom.… I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me” (2 Sam 7:12–14; see Ps 2:7). 35. While Luke also connects Jesus’s divine sonship with being heir to David’s throne in his birth and infancy traditions (1:31–35), the kingship overtones within Luke’s introduction are far more muted and not so explicit as they are in Matthew, nor are they ever placed in the vicinity of Herod. 36. The book of Judges in the LXX deploys σῴζω for the “rescuing” or “saving” of Israel almost twenty times.



Whose King Is He Anyway? 245

into the period of the monarchy with King David: “The Lord spoke concerning David saying, ‘By the hand of my servant David I will save [σῴζω] Israel from the hand of the Philistines, and from the hands of all their enemies’ ” (2 Sam 3:18 LXX).37 The ordinary and expected meaning of “deliver” for σῴζω leads Donald Hagner to remark, “The natural expectation regarding the significance of σώσει ‘will save,’ would be that it refers to a national-political salvation, involving in particular deliverance from the Roman occupation.”38 Indeed, Matthew’s pattern of deployment for σῴζω plainly implies earthly rescue.39 By his therapeutic mission in the “land of Israel” (2:20–21), Jesus will begin to deliver God’s people from the ramification of their sins, that is, political oppression by healing those whom Rome has afflicted.40 With Jesus identified as the true heir to David’s throne by virtue of his lineage and his extraordinary birth, Matthew continues to buttress this claim in chapter two. The gospel writer unfolds this kingship theme largely through an implicit contrast between Jesus and Herod.41 Having already 37. In Deuteronomistic History σῴζω is applied to David more than any other king. 38. Donald A. Hagner, Matthew, 2 vols., WBC 33 (Dallas: Word, 1993–1995), 1:19. 39. Matthew’s use of σῴζω can be summarized as follows: deliverance from natural dangers (8:25; 14:30), deliverance from persecution (10:22; 16:25; 24:13, 22; 27:40, 42a, 49), and deliverance from physical ailments (9:21, 22; 27:42a). Apart from possibly 1:21, only once does σῴζω ever denote something other than earthly deliverance: in 19:25—where it stands syntactically parallel to “having eternal life.” 40. Ekkehard Stegemann and Wolfgang Stegemann note that the majority of the lower-strata residents of the empire, i.e., the “absolutely poor,” were “[for the necessities of life] dependent on the help of others.” See Stegemann and Stegemann, The Jesus Movement: A Social History of its First Century, trans. O. C. Dean (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1999), 92. Both the “absolutely poor” and the “relatively poor” could count among their numbers the chronically ill and disabled such as the blind, the lame, and lepers; and as scholars such as Warren Carter and Rodney Stark have observed, extreme poverty exacerbated these health concerns, while creating others. See Carter, Matthew and Empire: Initial Explorations (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 2001); Stark, “Antioch as the Social Situation for Matthew’s Gospel,” in Social History of the Matthean Community: Cross-Disciplinary Approaches, ed. David L. Balch (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991), 189–210. Hence, one of the consequences of Roman oppression was physical and emotional sickness, which would have especially ravaged the lower classes. 41. Scholars have also seen a comparison in the passage between Herod (and the Jewish leaders) and the magi, e.g., David R. Bauer, “The Kingship of Jesus in the Matthean Infancy Narrative: A Literary Analysis,” CBQ 57 (1995): 306–23.

246

Wayne Baxter

set the narrative table with the genealogy that presents Jesus “the Son of David” as the rightful heir to the throne of “David the king,” the evangelist now introduces his audience to Israel’s monarch at the time of Jesus’s birth: “Herod the king” (2:1a). Bernard Scott observes the central role that Herod takes in this section of the gospel when he comments, “The primary story is that of Herod, with Joseph’s narrative interwoven into the narrative.”42 Dorothy Weaver agrees, observing that “the immediately following text makes it clear that what is at stake here is not historical dating but rather ironic portrayal.”43 The magi ask Herod, “Where is the one born king of the Jews?”44 Because Herod is the king of the Jews (v. 3a), he finds their question disturbing, revealing his insecurity.45 That the evangelist intends this albeit implicit contrast to stand out in the text is suggested by its strategic placement within the birth and infancy traditions: “and he called his name Jesus. And after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, magi from the east came into Jerusalem saying, ‘Where is the one born king of the Jews?’ ” (1:25b–2:2a) lies at the exact middle of his introduction. Much of the grist of the contrast remains lost on modern readers of Matthew, but not for his original audience, as Donald Verseput insightfully comments: “[Matthew] juxtaposes the legitimate child-heir with the house of Herod, so that comparisons with an earlier protest against the Hasmonean dynasty in Ps. Sol. 17 are difficult to avoid.”46 Although Herod ruled over the Jews, controversy 42. Scott, “Birth of the Reader,” 84. 43. Dorothy J. Weaver, “Power and Powerlessness: Matthew’s Use of Irony in the Portrayal of Political Leaders,” in Society of Biblical Literature 1992 Seminar Papers, SBLSP 31 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992), 456. Historical dating is at stake in, say, Luke 1:5 and 3:1–2. 44. Mathew portrays the magi as something akin to priestly kings: while the gifts of the magi probably signify something like tribute given to a king, frankincense and myrrh have cultic functions in Scripture (see Exod 30:34–38; Lev 2; 24:7, 15 for frankincense, and Exod 30:23 for myrrh), and as such, would color their gifts with a priestly hue. 45. Bauer notes, “The initial juxtaposition of ‘Herod the king’ and ‘the king of the Jews’ indicates that Herod is motivated ultimately by a sense of threat to his royal power and control, since kingship, by its very nature, involves exclusive rule” (“Kingship of Jesus,” 314). Hence, Herod will ultimately plot to destroy the child in order to preserve power no matter what the cost (vv. 13, 16). 46. Donald J. Verseput, “The Davidic Messiah and Matthew’s Jewish Christianity,” in Society of Biblical Literature 1995 Seminar Papers, SBLSP 34 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995), 102.



Whose King Is He Anyway? 247

existed over the legitimacy of his throne. Because of his Idumean ancestry, his friendship with Rome, and his excessive brutality,47 numerous Jews believed Herod to be unfit for David’s throne. Matthew depicts Jesus as the legitimate heir to the throne of Israel. Unlike Herod, Jesus belongs to the royal line of King David and is the offspring of YHWH. Far from ascending to the throne through wealth or political guile, Jesus’s appointment comes via divine sanction, as prophesied by the Scriptures. Hence, the ultimate reason why Herod’s throne is illegitimate is that he is not the one whom God has selected to rule Israel; rather, it is Jesus.48 While Matthew appropriates Scripture earlier in the narrative to delineate Jesus’s identity, his next citation of it in 2:6 reaffirms Jesus’s legitimacy as the true heir to the throne in two ways. On the one hand, the inquiry described in the verses immediately leading up to the quote reveals that the scripture refers to the birthplace not simply of the king but of the “Messiah” (v. 4b). In other words, in the response to the magi’s query of where the “king of the Jews” would be born, the religious leaders seek the birthplace of the Messiah. Hence, part of Jesus’s legitimacy as Israel’s true king derives not just from being of royal lineage but from being Israel’s Messiah, the first christological title in Matthew’s superscription (1:1; see 1:16, 17). Herod neither descended from royal pedigree nor made messianic claims. On the other hand, Jesus’s birthplace—unlike any of his counterparts’—has already been announced in the Scriptures: the Christ will be born “in Bethlehem of Judea, for so it is written by the prophet” (2:5b).49 That Jesus’s birth was foreseen by the Scriptures would be both an implicit affirmation of his special role in Israel and the validity of his claim to the throne. Further, Matt 2:6 tersely summarizes and foreshadows Jesus’s mission to Israel. Just as the geographical origin of the Messiah is anchored in the biblical citation, so too, is the nature of his mission: “And you Bethlehem, land of Judah, by no means are you

47. See Peter Richardson and Amy M. Fisher, Herod: King of the Jews and Friend of the Romans, 2nd ed. (London: Routledge, 2018); Harold Hoehner, “Herodian Dynasty,” DJG, 317–26; van Henten, “Matthew 2:16 and Josephus’ Portrayals,” 108–14. 48. Although Matthew refers to Herod as “king” three times within the 2:1–12 pericope, he never does so after the first explicit appearance in the narrative of Jesus, the newborn king (in v. 9); see the use of only “Herod” in 2:12, 13, 15, 16, 19, 22. 49. Bauer comments, “Matthew is careful to identify Jesus not with Jerusalem, the center of political and religious authority and of brute force, but with humble, vulnerable, and victimized Bethlehem” (“Kingship of Jesus,” 312).

248

Wayne Baxter

least among the rulers of Judah, for out of you will come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.” This text represents a conflation of Mic 5:1 (MT; Mic 5:2 ET; v. 6a) and 2 Sam 5:2b (v. 6b), is without parallel in the other gospels, and reveals Matthew’s understanding of how these texts relate to Jesus.50 In his appropriation of Mic 5:1a “Ephrathah” becomes “Judah.” While Soares Prabhu suggests that Matthew’s aim is not geographical precision but theological,51 both aims are likely true. Despite outward circumstances, according to Micah’s prophecy Judah still yearns for a true king. Herod’s presence on the throne has failed to satisfy this ancient longing. Matthew also takes the somewhat ambiguous term χιλιάς, literally “thousand,” though it can connote either a “tribe” or a “tribal chief,” and opts for the latter connotation by using ἡγεμών (“rulers”),52 serving to link it to ἡγέομαι in the 2 Sam 5:2 quote in the second part of the verse. Joel Willitts rightly asserts, “The Matthean phrase τοῖς ἡγεμόσιν Ἰούδα in Matt 2:6 reflects the chapter’s concern for the political power of Israel.”53 The use of ἡγεμών (rather than, say, χιλιάς) would serve to underscore, within this brief citation, the reason for the Messiah’s emergence: he has come to replace those who currently “lead” (ἡγέομαι; v. 6b) Israel—including the one responsible for bringing destruction on its children: Herod.54 By appending 2 Sam 5:2 to Mic 5:1, Matthew achieves several interrelated effects. He reemphasizes the Davidic Christology with which he opened the gospel (and which will be featured prominently throughout it). The Davidic lineage implied in the Micah text becomes explicit in 2 Sam 5:2: the words spoken by YHWH directly to David at his coronation are now applied to Jesus. Further, the corollary of this Davidic kingship thrust 50. See W. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., The Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 1:242. 51. G. Soares Prabhu, The Formula Quotations in the Infancy Narrative of Matthew: An Enquiry into the Tradition History of Mt 1–2 (Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1976), 262–63. 52. Of the Synoptic Gospels, only Matthew employs ἡγεμών with any regularity: nine times, compared to once in Mark and twice in Luke, applying it to Pilate explicitly in Matt 27:2, 11, 14, 15, 21, 27, and implicitly in 28:14. 53. Joel Willitts, Matthew’s Messianic Shepherd-King: In Search of “the Lost Sheep of the House of Israel,” BZNW 147 (Berlin: de Gruyer, 2007), 108. 54. This replacement of Israel’s shepherds is implicit in both Mic 5, where YHWH promises to raise up a new ruler to replace Judah’s failed leader, and 2 Sam 5, where David replaces Saul as the king.



Whose King Is He Anyway? 249

is the shepherd motif. David is viewed in the Jewish Scriptures as the ideal shepherd (e.g., Ps 78:70–72; Ezek 34:23), and when the Hebrew Bible or Second Temple Jewish authors use the metaphor for David, it refers to his ruling as king over Israel.55 According to Matthew, Jesus represents the promised ruler who will shepherd God’s people Israel, where shepherd (ποιμαίνω) here connotes rule or kingship.56 At the time of Jesus’s birth, Israel had shepherds, that is, King Herod (v. 1a), as well as the chief priests and the scribes (v. 4). Matthew linguistically extends the shepherding contrast between Herod and Jesus by his description of the action Herod takes after he receives the magi’s news: he “gathers together” (συνάγω) the chief priests and scribes of the people to learn where Jesus will be born (2:4). Frequently συνάγω bears shepherding imagery (e.g., in Matt 25:32).57 Matthew had any number of linguistic options from which to choose (and which he employs elsewhere) other than συνάγω.58 That he opts for συνάγω here, particularly in view of its close syntactical (and conceptual) relation to ποιμαίνω in 2:6, suggests a deliberate contrast between the respective recipients of Herod’s and Jesus’s shepherding: whereas Herod “gathers” or shepherds his own, that is, the religious elite “of the people,”59 Jesus “will shepherd [God’s] people Israel.” Matthew 2:6 discloses that God is about to replace these shepherds with his own, the reason for which is only hinted at in this portion of the infancy narrative (i.e., Israel’s current shepherds are disturbed—Herod in particular—by the arrival of God’s newborn king) but more fully evidenced in the second half of chapter 2: Herod rejects Jesus and plots his destruction. 55. For a detailed examination of the use of the shepherd metaphor in the HB and in Second Temple Jewish literature, see Baxter, Israel’s Only Shepherd, 1–122. 56. By contrast, in the birth and infancy narratives in Luke’s Gospel, Luke uses shepherd literally to reflect the humble circumstances of Jesus. The marginalized circumstances of Jesus’s birth—which foreshadow Jesus’s mission to the marginalized— are amplified, on the one hand, by the birth announcement being made first to mere shepherds, and, on the other hand, by these shepherds being the first visitors to pay homage to the infant Christ. 57. See use of the cognate verb ἄγω in the LXX: e.g., Gen 46:32; Exod 3:1; Ps 77:52; Isa 63:12–14. 58. E.g., καλέω (2:7), προσκαλέομαι (10:1), πέμπω (11:2), or ζητέω (12:46). 59. Van Henten sees in the actual term συναγαγὼν the convening of a formal assembly or council (“Matthew 2:16 and Josephus’ Portrayals,” 104). Bauer notes that συνάγω linguistically anticipates the “gathering together” of the religious leaders to plot Jesus’s destruction (“Kingship of Jesus,” 316; Matt 26:3, 57; see also 28:12).

250

Wayne Baxter

Finally, shepherd in 2:6b reveals something of Jesus’s mission, specifically, its scope. For the evangelist, God has chosen Jesus to shepherd his people (λαός), Israel. Numerous scholars argue that “Israel” refers to both Jews and gentiles.60 It seems better to understand “his people” in 2:6b as referring to Jews for several reasons. “My people” (τὸν λαὸν μου) is clearly an echo of “his people” (τὸν λαὸν αὐτοῦ) in 1:21b. In 1:21 the angel tells Joseph that “he [Jesus] will save his [Jesus’] people [τὸν λαὸν αὐτοῦ] from their sins.” Since Jesus is Jewish, “his people” would more naturally refer to the Jews.61 The close proximity of 1:21 and its relation to the genealogy, which deals with Israel’s history from Abraham to the Babylonian exile, suggests that the Jewish nation would be in view in 1:21.62 Further, the double reference to the “land of Israel”—an expression used only by Matthew in the New Testament—in 2:20–21 would also echo “my people Israel” in 2:6. Thus, while not denying the legitimacy of the inclusion of the gentiles in the Jesus movement, the focus of Matthew’s shepherd here is the nation of Israel.63

60. E.g., Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:210; Brian M. Nolan, The Royal Son of God: The Christology of Matthew 1–2 in the Setting of the Gospel (Fribourg: Éditions Universitaires, 1979), 133. Hagner, for his part, argues that because “Matthew and his readers were capable of a deeper understanding of the expression [λαός] wherein it includes both Jews and Gentiles … we may thus finally equate this λαός, ‘people,’ with the ἐκκλησία, ‘Church,’ of which Jesus speaks in 16:18” (Matthew, 1:19). 61. It could be argued that “his” refers not to Jesus but to God, but this seems unlikely. On the one hand, in the phrase, “for he [αὐτὸς] will save [σώσει] his people from their sins,” the emphatic pronoun αὐτός would refer back to υἱός and Ἰησοῦς in the first half of the verse: “You will bear a son [υἱόν] and you will call him, ‘Jesus’ [Ἰησοῦν].” On the other hand, when σῴζω refers to acts of power, it is unambiguously associated in the gospel with Jesus. Moreover, even if God were in view here, at this point in the story, God’s people would plainly refer to the Jews and not the “church” of Jews and gentiles. 62. For Matthew, this brief outline of Israel’s history climaxes with the birth of Christ (1:16–17), which the evangelist treats in greater detail in the pericope of 1:18–25—where 1:21 appears. See Carter, Matthew and Empire, 77–79; David C. Sim, The Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism: The History and Social Setting of the Matthean Community (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998), 250–51. 63. See the analysis of Anthony J. Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, CSHJ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994), 28–34. Saldarini demonstrates convincingly that Matthew never uses λαός with the sense of “church” but for the social and political entity of the land of Israel, i.e., the Jewish people.



Whose King Is He Anyway? 251

The ensuing narrative in 2:13–23 roundly reinforces for Matthew the spuriousness of Herod’s reign as Israel’s monarch. Having already disclosed that Herod shepherds only the socioreligious elites, the king tries to kill Jesus by eliminating all of the under-two-year-old male children in the region of Bethlehem. While Herod fails to understand the true nature of Jesus’s kingdom, David Bauer remarks that “[Herod] understands all too well that the kingship of Jesus represents the rule of God which challenges the kind of rule Herod enjoys.”64 Thus, whereas Jesus the child of Bethlehem will save his people from their sins, Herod’s act of sin brings death to the children of Bethlehem in his irate search for Jesus, “the one born king of the Jews.” 4. Summary and Comparisons Mark opens his gospel by outlining the good news of Jesus Christ the Son of God who has come to lead God’s people out of their moral wilderness into a new exodus. While kingship imagery would be implicit in the titles “Christ” and “Son of God,” the narrative remains otherwise void of imperial overtones. Besides using Herod as a means of drawing a parallel between John the Baptist and Jesus, Mark also deploys him as a character foil for him: Herod is a king who self-centeredly celebrates with the socially privileged, satisfying their wanton desires; Jesus, however, remains Israel’s true shepherd who selflessly exercises compassion on behalf of the disadvantaged, fulfilling their religious and nutritional needs by teaching and feeding them. Luke’s story of Jesus commences with a demonstration of how God powerfully brings about the fulfillment of his long-awaited salvation for his people Israel, as evidenced by angelophanies, miraculous births, and Spirit-inspired prophetic actions. The evangelist uses Herod to show that even this monarch’s rule could not extinguish God’s salvific activity, nor silence the proclamation of YHWH’s salvation to Israel. Josephus, for his part, introduces Herod into his narratives by referring to his future (i.e., within the historiographical timeline) kingship, also ascribing to him the honorific titles “king of the Jews” and “savior,” proclaiming that he will reign over his people, though he lacks legitimate claim to David’s throne.

64. Bauer, “Kingship of Jesus,” 315.

252

Wayne Baxter

While not discounting the similarities with the other Synoptic Gospels, for Matthew Herod functions quite differently. In Mark’s introduction kingship only faintly registers in his presentation of Jesus. Although royal overtones are stronger in the opening of Luke’s Gospel, they remain muted and overshadowed by the evangelist’s depiction of a new era in Israel’s history, characterized by the outworking of God’s salvific power. Consequently, Herod plays no role in the beginning of either of these gospels. Matthew’s birth and infancy traditions, however, explicitly focus in a sustained way on Jesus’s national kingship. The prophets had promised a singular successor to King David’s throne; and even when it was occupied centuries later by Herod, that ancient promise remained unfulfilled. Matthew forcefully asserts that Jesus is David’s greater son and therefore the true heir to Israel’s throne. The evangelist makes this declaration in the gospel’s superscription—“Jesus Christ … the Son of David”—and offers clear support for this claim through the genealogy, which strongly underscores the deep Davidic imprint on Jesus’s lineage. Further, Jesus descends from YHWH, having been conceived by his Holy Spirit, as foreseen by the Scriptures. Even gentiles recognize Jesus’s sovereignty, coming from afar to pay homage to the “one born king of the Jews.” Additionally, Matthew legitimizes Jesus’s right to the throne by implicitly equating being born king of the Jews with being born the Christ: Jesus is the heir to the throne of Israel because he is the Messiah. Hence, the prophets predict that it is the Davidic Christ-king whom God has chosen to shepherd his people Israel and not Herod, whose censorious reaction to the news of Jesus’s birth only proves him to be a fraud. Given Matthew’s deep concern to present Jesus as Israel’s king, Herod functions much more prominently in the opening of his gospel than in Mark’s or Luke’s, clearly operating as a political foil. All three Synoptic Gospels agree with Josephus in their characterization of Herod as an evil monarch; and indeed, characterization rather than political status lies at the heart of how Mark and Luke deploy Herod. Mark’s appropriation of Herod centers on his character and his activities: he imprisons John the Baptist and celebrates with licentious entertainment with the aristocracy, in stark contrast to the way Jesus attends to the crowds. Luke utilizes Herod to demonstrate the power of God’s kingdom, that is, that even the likes of King Herod cannot silence it. Matthew’s portrayal of Herod in his second chapter (as well as the account of John’s beheading in 14:1–12) seamlessly harmonizes with the other evangelists’. Where Matthew stands apart from Mark and Luke, on the one hand, and



Whose King Is He Anyway? 253

with Josephus, on the other, is in regards to his depiction of kingship. Neither Mark nor Luke uses Herod to illustrate political authority—at best it remains only in the background. For Mark and Luke Herod serves only as a foil in terms of his character. While Josephus echoes this portrayal, he goes further. He introduces Herod within his narratives expressly in terms of his future regency, and he shows elsewhere, through Herod’s lack of Davidic credentials, the illegitimacy of his throne. Herod’s political status as king matters to Josephus—as it does to Matthew. Thus, insofar as Matthew deploys Herod in his birth and infancy traditions to establish and to set off Jesus’s claim and reign as the rightful king of Israel, Matthew shows himself to think more along the lines of Josephus the Jew than his two Christ-following kin. 5. Conclusion Because he was a follower of Jesus of Nazareth, the author of Matthew’s Gospel shared many of the same beliefs and practices that characterized much of the early Jesus movement. Matthew was also Jewish. Doubtless Jewish followers of Jesus could differ sharply in their ritual and theological expressions. Some, such as the Christ-believing Pharisees (see Acts 15:5), closely resembled torah-observant Jews who rejected Jesus.65 For other groups this correspondence was significantly less.66 What does the portrayal of Jesus and Herod in the opening of the First Gospel imply about Matthew? When compared with Mark, Luke, and Josephus, Matthew views kingship—at least as it pertains to Israel—much more like Josephus than the other gospel writers. Herod’s role within Matt 1–2 centers on the Davidic throne, to ruling over Israel as a nation. Jesus is the true king destined to reign over Israel, despite its occupation by Herod. The characterization of Herod, especially in Matt 2:13–23, serves chiefly to confirm his illegitimacy as Israel’s king, unlike the characterizations in 65. Such as, for example, Saul of Tarsus prior to his Damascus Road encounter (see Gal 1:13–14; Phil 3:4–6). 66. Given the absence of table-fellowship teaching (unlike in Romans and 1 Corinthians), it seems likely that Jewish believers in Philippi would have had little problem “being a Jew [yet living] like a Gentile” (à la Gal 2:14). Again, while Acts 6–7 says little about Stephen’s ritual practices, Luke makes it clear that Stephen did not believe that the Jerusalem temple could any longer be considered the repository for God’s presence among Israel, thereby removing the necessity of participation in the temple cult.

254

Wayne Baxter

Mark and Luke, which do not function to distinguish between political authority as much as they illuminate moral character or salvific proclamation. Matthew’s political contrast could perhaps be taken further. Since Caesar appointed Herod to rule Israel as a stand-in for Rome, then the same would apply to the Roman Empire: although Rome rules (via Herod) over Israel, the birth of Jesus signifies the beginning of God’s saving/delivering his people from Roman imperial powers: a rescue that climaxes at Jesus’s parousia, when he subjugates all nations (including Rome) to his messianic rule in Israel (Matt 25:31). This focus on the Jewish monarchy and ruling national Israel reveals Matthew’s Jewish-traditionalist socioreligious orientation. Consonant with the other evangelists, the Matthean Jesus commands his followers to “make disciples of all the nations” (28:19a; see Mark 11:17; 13:10; Luke 24:47). But whereas the Gospel of Mark is directed to gentile believers (possibly in Rome)67 and whereas Luke-Acts programmatically lays out the movement of God’s salvific activity from Israel to the nations (Rome being the center), Matthew remains particularly attentive to the nation of Israel and (among other things) for YHWH to fulfill his ancient promise to them for a king to rule over them in their land. Such an Israel-centric vision for God’s rule on earth would have aligned well with that of many Jews who were not convinced by claims of Jesus’s messianic status. Paul the Jewish apostle to the gentiles told the predominantly gentile church at Rome: “My heart’s desire and prayer to God for [Israel] is that they may be saved” (Rom 10:1). Paul was zealous for the salvation of his earthly kin, but Christ had called him to evangelize gentiles. Ironically, had he spent his life taking the gospel to Jews, some of his beliefs such as, for example, his views on the kingdom of God, might have impeded his efforts. Kingdom is more assumed than stated for Paul. In those instances where he speaks of it, he tends either to describe its ethical demands on its constituents or contrast its values and operations with the earthly realm; and when he does explicitly describe the reign of the kingdom (in 1 Cor 15:24–28), there is no hint whatsoever of Christ reigning in a special way 67. But see Barry S. Crawford and Merrill P. Miller, eds., Redescribing the Gospel of Mark, ECL 22 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2017), for other possible locations. Christopher B. Zeichmann argues that Mark’s transliterated Latin is actually more reflective of a Syrian or postwar Palestinian provenance. See Zeichmann, “Loanwords or CodeSwitching? Latin Transliteration and the Setting of Mark’s Composition,” JJMJS 4 (2017): 42–62.



Whose King Is He Anyway? 255

in relation to Israel. Christ’s reign is universal with little regard for national rule over Israel.68 At this point Paul’s eschatology appears to diverge from Matthew’s, who views national Israel as holding a special place in the eschaton.69 Thus, Matthew’s Israel-centric vision for God’s kingdom rule would have provided theological common ground on which to build his case to non-Christ-believing Jews for Jesus of Nazareth being Israel’s Messiah.

68. See Donald Guthrie, New Testament Theology (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1981), 409–29. 69. Hence, the Matthean Jesus reassures his disciples, “Truly I tell you, at the renewal of all things, when the Son of Man is seated on the throne of his glory, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel” (19:28 NRSV).

The Function of Teaching Authority in the Dead Sea Documents and Matthew’s Gospel Loren T. Stuckenbruck

1. Introduction The Gospel of Matthew is rightly noted for its emphasis on Jesus as one who taught. Jesus’s instruction is, in the text, most often directed at his disciples, and it is recognized that behind these disciples, whether they are represented by a subgroup (i.e., Peter, James, and John) or by a single character such as Peter, there lies a community more contemporary to the time of the gospel’s composition that is being addressed.1 Scholarship is also largely agreed that Jesus’s function as a teacher is clearly on display in the gospel,2 as many of Jesus’s sayings therein—whatever sources they may have been drawn from—are organized into blocks of teaching that attend to distinguishable areas of focus. Whether or not these blocks are, strictly speaking, five in number, they at least include the following texts and themes: chapters 5–7 (the so-called Sermon on the Mount, on ideal religiosity), chapter 1. See, e.g. Warren Carter, Matthew: Storyteller, Interpreter, Evangelist, rev. ed. (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2004), 61–91, 215–27, for whom the gospel’s portrait of the disciples functions as a window into its audience. 2. The most thorough and important study to date on Jesus’s activity as teacher in Matthew’s Gospel remains that of Samuel Byrskog, Jesus the Only Teacher: Didactic Authority and Transmission in Ancient Israel, Ancient Judaism and the Matthean Community, ConBNT 24 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1994). Byrskog’s focus on how the understanding of Jesus as “the only teacher” relates to the transmission of tradition from in the Matthean community finds plausibility structures in rabbinic literature, the Dead Sea Scrolls (the Qumran community), and the Hebrew Scriptures; however, his line of questioning does not advance, beyond occasional observations, to an emphasis—as taken into consideration below—on the authoritative role the writereditor of tradition assumed for himself as well as the warrant for doing so.

-257-

258

Loren T. Stuckenbruck

10 (on mission), chapter 13 (parables, on the kingdom of heaven), chapter 18 (life in the faith community), chapter 23 (woes against other Jewish leaders, “scribes and Pharisees”),3 and chapters 24–25 (discourse on the Mount of Olives concerning eschatological events). Furthermore, it is observed that these discourses of Jesus in Matthew are interspersed by narratives of roughly the same number that focus more on Jesus’s deeds and present a broad range of his activities.4 This alternation, which indicates deliberate editorial activity on the part of the author, serves to give attention and focus to different aspects of Jesus’s authority, one that pertains not only to his deeds (Matt 9:6, 8; 21:23–24, 27) but also to the unprecedented nature and content of his teaching (7:29; 28:18–20; see 11:27), with both bequeathed in some measure to the disciples (10:1; see 11:25–26; 28:19–20). To be sure, it is not as though Jesus’s authority as a teacher is novel to Matthew. It may well be that Matthew’s focus was inspired by received tradition, whether from material found in the Gospel of Mark (esp. Mark 1:22, 27; 4 [parables]; 13 [eschatological events]) or, more generally, that which Matthew has in common with the Gospel of Luke, a source primarily centered on Jesus’s sayings.5 To the extent that Matthew had to hand not only instructions by Jesus but also claims about his teaching authority, it is clear that Matthew adapted these traditions, organizing and editing them to form further units of instruction that, in turn, functioned to underpin special claims about Jesus. That Matthew’s Gospel shaped Jesus tradition—here, we are thinking of that which is concerned with his teaching—in order to reinforce christological claims so that, for example, he is presented as superior to Moses almost goes without saying.6 However, it is one thing to recognize such an emphasis in the gospel and to attribute it to the author-editor, and it 3. On whether the blocks of teaching are five in number, see Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-rhetorical Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 37–38. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations in this chapter are my own. 4. So Matt 4; 8–9; 11–12; 14–17; 19–22; 26–28. See the treatment of the issue, with an overview of previous scholarship, by W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 1:58–72, though the question of how significant these sections, taken together with the discourses, are for the structure of Matthew is not significant to the present discussion. 5. In addition, see the special material preserved in Luke 4:32, 36. 6. E.g., Dale C. Allison Jr., The New Moses: A Matthean Typology (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993).



The Function of Teaching Authority 259

is another to inquire into what this may have meant for the anonymous writer’s own activity: Beyond what is underscored in relation to Jesus himself, what does the presentation of Jesus have to do with the instruction, whose content has been adapted through structuring and editing or even generated by “Matthew”?7 Are there any implicit claims being made by the author about himself in the way Jesus is presented? This question, despite its generic tone, takes on specificity if one considers several points. First, there is the distinction, well-worn in form-critical scholarship during the twentieth century, between sayings tradition and narrative framing. The former involves the transmission of Jesus’s instructions in content, whether in discrete units or as collections, while the latter contextualizes and links the sayings material in relation to a story line, whether it consists of units with minimal sayings or provides a scene or encounter that could have given rise to poignant pronouncements (as, e.g., apothegmata in disputes and “controversy stories” [Schul- and Streitgespräche]). Studies by Rudolf Bultmann, Martin Dibelius, Birger Gerhardsson, Rainer Riesner, and others focused on the logia of Jesus in order, in form-critical terms, to trace their earliest form and the settings within which they arose.8 Thus, in this vein the focus was on Jesus tradition behind the texts, whether credible or not in strictly historical terms, and less on the activity that produced the texts that we have. Second, the emergence of redaction-critical study, more than form-critical approaches, drew intention to the editorial processes and theological outlooks of the evangelists, with the implication that they understood themselves as entitled to shape the traditions they inherited. Although this redaction criticism paved the way for a study of the text traditions as embedded within the larger strategy of a narrator, the results

7. The argument of this essay assumes that the gospel, though attached in the second century to “Matthew,” was the product of composer-editor who deliberately remained anonymous. 8. See the helpful survey of scholarship in this respect by Byrskog, Jesus the Only Teacher, 14–19, focusing esp. on Rudolf Bultmann, History of the Synoptic Tradition, trans. John Marsh, rev. ed. (New York: Harper & Row, 1963); Martin Dibelius, From Tradition to Gospel, trans. Bertram Lee Woolf (New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1935); Birger Gerhardsson, The Origins of the Gospel Tradition (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979); Rainer Riesner, Jesus als Lehrer: Eine Untersuchung zum Ursprung der EvangelienÜberlieferung, 3rd ed.,WUNT 2/7 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1988). Of course, in terms of what could be concluded about what Jesus himself taught, there was a huge difference in the results of these studies.

260

Loren T. Stuckenbruck

of analysis would remain ultimately focused on what the Synoptic Gospels wished to say about their protagonist, Jesus. The discussion to follow seeks to shift focus onto the anonymous author behind Matthew’s Gospel, less in order to inquire about the presentation about Jesus itself and more to consider the degree to which that presentation reflects a strategy of self-validation in which the evangelist may be thought to have engaged. Third, while it may already seem obvious, the question being explored has little to do with a recovery of a “historical Jesus” in any specific sense. The comparative approach to be taken below (sections 2 and 3) attempts, instead, to throw light on the function of language about him for the writer. Thus, the aims of this essay can be formulated even more precisely through several interrelated questions: What is the significance of Matthew’s claim concerning the authoritative nature of Jesus’s teaching, and how is that related to his own activity as one who has organized and reworked that tradition? What does the author’s active role in shaping the form and content of Jesus as teacher imply about how he understood what he was doing? Finally, how does the authority claimed for Jesus reflect on the authority the gospel may be claiming for itself? Jesus was far from being the only teacher in the ancient world about whom much could be said on the basis of available textual evidence. A consideration, for example, of the Greek-speaking Mediterranean world brings philosophical traditions to mind, whether of individuals (e.g., Socrates) or those whose activities resulted in the establishment of philosophical schools. In particular, much could be observed about the significance of Plato’s presentation of Socrates for his self-understanding as a teacher.9 On the Jewish side, the most well-known teachers active in the Second Temple period and to whom instructions and debates are attributed in rabbinic literature are Hillel and Shammai.10 Without discounting the potential significance of comparisons of Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel with the figures just 9. In this regard, possible parallels to Plato’s handling of Socrates would be interesting to draw into the discussion, as Socrates is not known to have written anything and, arguably, the presentation of Socrates functioned as a cipher for promoting Plato’s own philosophical ideas without the latter explicitly referring to himself. The scholarly literature on this question is voluminous; concerning this function of Socrates as Plato’s ideal figure, see Lloyd Gerson, “The Myth of Plato’s Socratic Period,” AGP 96 (2014): 403–30, with bibliographical references on recent scholarship. 10. More attention has been devoted to Hillel in drawing comparisons with the Jesus tradition, though with more emphasis on proceeding on the basis of treating them as historical figures than how each functioned as models for those writing about



The Function of Teaching Authority 261

mentioned and with questions about the traditioning processes associated with them, the present essay shall seek to draw the Teacher of Righteousness (hereafter, often “Teacher”) into the conversation. The advantages of this approach to a consideration of Matthew’s presentation of Jesus are several: (1) a relative contemporaneity to Matthew, as the sources about the Teacher date to the late second to the first century BCE; (2) that the sources about the Teacher were arguably composed one or more generations after he was alive; and (3) the sources’ ultimate focus on their own time, while relating fragmentary knowledge about the Teacher. While recognizing differences (see also the beginning of section 3 below), these and further points and their significance for understanding the function of the author in Matthew’s Gospel are elaborated below. 2. The Teacher of Righteousness in the Dead Sea Scrolls 2.1. References to the Teacher Much has been written about this figure by specialists in Dead Sea Scrolls research. A majority of scholars are agreed that slightly varying references in the texts to (the) Teacher of Righteousness (with or without a definite article) refer to one and the same individual. Moreover, related terminology may have this figure in view. The scrolls mention him some seventeen times in the following texts: ◆ Habakkuk Pesher (1QpHab, copied in the early second half of the first century BCE) I, 13; II, 2; V, 10; VII, 4; VIII, 3; IX, 9–10; XI, 5 (i.e., seven passages in total); ◆ Micah Pesher (1QpMic = 1Q14, second half of the first century BCE) 10 6; ◆ 4QPsalms Peshera (4QpPsa = 4Q171, late first century BCE to the early first century CE) 1–10 III, 15, 19; IV, 27; ◆ 4QPsalms Pesherc (4QpPsb = 4Q173, late first century BCE to the early first century CE) 1 4; 2 2; ◆ an unidentified pesher fragment (4Q172) 7 1; and

them. See, e.g., James H. Charlesworth and Loren L. Johns, Hillel and Jesus: Comparisons of Two Major Religious Figures (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1997).

262

Loren T. Stuckenbruck

◆ the Cairo Genizah recension to the Damascus Document, which, at CD A I, 11 and VI, 11, refers to “one who teaches righteousness” (‫)יורה הצדק‬. Beyond these texts there are a further six that, though less certain, may refer to him with similar expressions: ◆ Cairo Genizah B (CD) XX, 1, 14, which mention “the unique teacher” (‫;)מורה היחיד‬ ◆ Cairo Genizah B (CD) XX, 28; 4QIsaiah Pesherc (4QpIsac = 4Q163, mid-first century BCE) 21 6, which refer simply to “(the) teacher” (‫ ;)מורה‬and ◆ 4QPsalms Peshera (4Q171) 1–10 I, 27, referring to “the interpreter of knowledge” (‫)מליץ דעת‬. Finally, perhaps even more uncertain, yet possible references occur in the following: ◆ Cairo Genizah A (CD) VI, 7 (with parallels in 4Q267 2.15) and CD A VII, 17 (with parallels in 4Q266 III, 19 and 4Q269 5 2): “the interpreter of the Torah” (‫;)התורה דורש‬ ◆ 4QIsaiah Pesherc (4Q163) 46 2: “teacher”? ([‫ ;)]מרה‬and ◆ 4QHosea Pesherb (4QpHosb = 4Q167) 5–6 2: “their teacher” (‫)מוריהם‬. During the initial fifty years of Dead Sea Scrolls research, the predominant question asked by scholars of these texts had to do with the Teacher’s historical identity. This research question is understandable in light of attempts to locate the origins and socioreligious history of the community (the Yaḥad) that was being associated with the archaeological ruins at Khirbet Qumran.11 However, the increased attention being given to the 11. The scholarly literature devoted to this question is extensive. For overviews of alternative historical identifications of the Teacher, as well as those of other sobriquets among the Dead Sea Scrolls, see Philip R. Callaway, The History of the Qumran Community: An Investigation, JSPSup 3 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1988); James H. Charlesworth, The Pesharim and Qumran History: Chaos or Consensus? (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002); Matthew A. Collins, The Use of Sobriquets in the Dead Sea Scrolls, LSTS 67 (London: T&T Clark, 2009), 8–16.



The Function of Teaching Authority 263

many sobriquets in the text in terms of their sociorhetorical function is making room for a shift in focus.12 Thus, we may ask why it was important for the anonymous writers of the texts listed above to refer to the Teacher, who likewise remains anonymous. To do so, we offer a brief overview of what is underscored about the Teacher and what this means for the Yaḥad authors, before offering a constructive comparison with the presentation of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew. A review of the texts allows characteristics and information about the Teacher, as a relatively recent figure, to be summed up under five main points, which appear in one or more of the texts.13 2.2. The Teacher as Priest The Teacher is expressly identified as “the priest” (‫)הכוהן‬. This is most clearly stated in two passages.14 The first of these is 4QpPsalmsa 1–10 III, 15–16, in the context of a commentary on Ps 37. The commentary responds to a lemma that cites Ps 37:23–24, which states that one who, “though he stumble, will not fall headlong, for Yahweh holds him by the hand.” The one receiving this support is identified in the comment as “the Priest, the Teacher of [Righteousness, whom] God [ch]ose to stand [‫]לעמוד‬.”15 Regarding the Teacher, the text further states that God 12. See esp. Collins, Use of Sobriquets, 8–37. 13. For a fuller review of these points, see Loren T. Stuckenbruck, “The Legacy of the Teacher of Righteousness in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in New Perspectives on Old Texts: Proceedings of the Tenth International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, 9–11 January, 2005, ed. Esther G. Chazon, Betsy Halpern-Amaru, and Ruth A. Clements, STDJ 88 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 29–44. 14. Much less certain is the following passage in 4QpPsa 1+2 II, 18–20, following a citation of Ps 37:14–15: “Its interpretation concerns the wicked ones of Ephraim and Manasseh, who will seek to lay the hand on the Priest and upon the men of his council during the time of testing which is coming upon them. And God will save them from their hands, and after this they will be delivered into the hands of the ruthless ones of the nations for judgment.” The punishment anticipated against Ephraim and Manasseh is further echoed in the description of future divine judgment against the Wicked Priest because of his desire to kill a “righteous” man, depicted in frags. 3+5–10 IV, 9–10. Despite this textual similarity, neither passage offers sufficient details to indicate whether the Teacher of Righteousness, as “the priest” or as a “righteous” one, is specifically in view. 15. The Hebrew ‫ לעמוד‬can also be translated “as a pillar.”

264

Loren T. Stuckenbruck

“established him to build for him a congregation of […].” Thus, it is in his function as a priest that the Teacher is understood to have founded and shaped the cultic character of the writer’s community.16 The other passage comes from 1QpHab II. In line 8 a figure, probably the Teacher, is given the title “priest.” The reference occurs in an interpretation following a lemma from Hab 1:5. The first part of the interpretation associates those “who have not believed” with the “Man of the Lie” and with not having aligned themselves with the Teacher (see 1QpHab II, 2, 6). In the second part of the interpretation, the commentary mentions “traitors” who in the latter days “will not believe when they hear all that will ha[ppen t]o the last generation from the mouth of the Priest” (II, 6–8), no doubt a reference back to the Teacher. The casual, unexplained application of the title to the Teacher suggests that this aspect of his identity is being taken for granted. What is highlighted in this connection is teaching activity about the final generation, which has met with rejection.17 2.3. The Teacher as Authoritative Interpreter The Teacher is understood as having been an exemplary, if not unequaled, interpreter of sacred “biblical” tradition. More particularly, he is the source for a determinative understanding of the Prophets and the Torah. This aspect of the Teacher’s importance is famously recounted in a commentary on Hab 2:2 in 1QpHab VII, 4–5. Part of the lemma, cited in full in 1QpHab VI, 15–16, is reiterated: “that the one who reads it may run” is interpreted by the writer as a reference to “the Teacher of Righteousness, to whom God made known all the mysteries of the words of his servants the prophets.” Significantly, the text distinguishes between the Teacher and the prophet Habakkuk. The latter is relegated to having been a recorder of knowledge 16. Even if no longer actively or immediately associated with the temple cult in Jerusalem. The rulings in CD that require the involvement of priests in the movement reflect the self-understanding of the community along cultic lines; see, e.g., CD A IX, 13–14 (par. 4Q267 9 I, 8); CD A XIII, 5–6 (par. 4Q271 5 II, 20; and the role carried out by a priestly functionary in the community in relation to a skin disease that include but extend beyond allusions to Lev 13 (see 4Q266 6 I; 4Q267 IV; 4Q269 7; 4Q272 1 I; 4Q273 4 II). See further 4Q289 1 4. 17. For purposes of this discussion, it is important that the Teacher is remembered this way and matters less what historical reality lies behind it, i.e., whether the Teacher was a high priest, as many scholars have maintained; see the extensive bibliography in Stuckenbruck, “Legacy of the Teacher,” 30–31 n. 18.



The Function of Teaching Authority 265

about the future age; however, it is the Teacher (not the prophet) who has actually understood God’s future plan, “the consummation of the age.” The writer of the text has interpreted the present or future “may run” in Hab 2:2 as a past event of full disclosure to the Teacher. Despite this temporal shift from lemma to interpretation, the author suggests that the Teacher’s activity has a direct bearing on what he anticipates will happen. His comment goes on to state that God “will prolong the final age (which had been revealed to the Teacher) and it will surpass everything the prophets have said” (VII, 7–8). As already implied in 1QpHab II, mentioned above, the authority granted to the Teacher regarding the future age is categorical. If we read 1QpHab II and VII together, there is no doubt that for the author of the work, the Teacher is the definitive criterion for determining loyalty to God, on the one hand, and unfaithfulness, on the other. In addition, the completeness of the knowledge revealed to him (“all the words of his servants the prophets” in II, 8–9; “all the mysteries of the words of his servants the prophets” in VII, 4–5) is conspicuous; the impression is left that the Teacher may have offered a running interpretation of the prophets, perhaps even of Habakkuk itself (chs. 1–2, i.e., the text covered in the work). However, what we encounter throughout the text is not the Teacher’s interpretations but rather those of the writer, who remains unidentified. The writer, having just mentioned the extraordinary revelation given to the Teacher, continues in column VII to apply the words of Habakkuk to the community of his own time (not even back to the Teacher). What the Teacher has begun has been “prolonged” (‫ )יארוך‬or extended to a time when the community (“the men of truth who do the Torah,” VII, 10–11) behind the work has to be exhorted to patience. Even though “the last generation” (II, 7) and “final age” (VII, 7) denote the era of both the Teacher’s and the author’s own activity, that of the latter is nevertheless distinguishable from that of the Teacher.18 The Teacher’s unique and comprehensive authority to interpret prophetic tradition is remembered as foundational for an even later community of interpreters that included the author. Thus, in this sense, the Teacher’s authority is not so unique. The activity of the Teacher does 18. Therefore, further nuance is needed for assertion than that of Greg L. Doudna, who states, “None of the sobriquet-bearing figures in the Qumran pesharim [including the Teacher of Righteousness] are from a past generation in the world of these texts.” See Doudna, 4QPesher Nahum: A Critical Edition, JSPSup 35 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 2001), 625.

266

Loren T. Stuckenbruck

not simply serve to reinforce who he is as one who inaugurated a new era of interpretation in the recent past; rather, his authority is seen to have provided a hermeneutical key and model for the writer of 1QpHab that opens the way for him to discover meaning from the sacred text in relation to circumstances of his own day. Significantly, the writer does not appeal to or recover what the Teacher himself has actually said in order to come to terms with the prolongation of the last era for his community. Rather, he assumes for himself the mantle of authority he attributes to the Teacher and, in so doing, minimizes the problem that there is an increasing gap between his and the Teacher’s time (VII, 9–14). It is now his and not, in the immediate sense, the Teacher’s message, understood as revealed interpretation, that orients the community to orient themselves anew and not become lax in their “service of the truth” (VII, 11–12). The Teacher himself signifies a new era in which the writer finds inspiration that legitimates his own updated appropriation of Habakkuk’s tradition. The Teacher is also linked in several passages to torah interpretation. In this respect, the claims made about him as a unique interpreter thereof are implicit. Several examples point in this direction. An interpretation of Hab 1:13b in 1QpHab V, 10–12 accuses “the Man of the Lie,” as one in conflict with the Teacher, of having rejected the torah (see also the interpretation of Hab 1:4a in 1QpHab I, 10). Even more clearly, in an interpretation of Hab 2:4b, 1QpHab VIII, 1–3 links fidelity to the Teacher with faithfulness with doing the torah. The outcome of such torah obedience by those who “do the Torah in the house of Israel” is deliverance by God “from the house of judgment.” In 1QpHab VIII, 2, loyalty to the Teacher is associated with the community’s “toil” (‫)עמלם‬. It is possible that this term refers to a form of suffering that the writer assigns to the community. Thus, by referring to fidelity to the Teacher in the next phrase, it is possible that the Teacher serves as a model with whom they identify not only their faithfulness to torah but also their own rejection and suffering (see, e.g., 1QpHab V, 10–11; IX, 9–10; XI, 4–6; 4QpPsa 3–10 IV, 6). In another pesher, 4QpPsa at 1–10 IV, 8–9, the author interprets Ps 37:32–33 as a reference to the conflict between the Wicked Priest and the Teacher of Righteousness, claiming, at the same time, that “the Torah was sent to him [i.e., the Teacher].”19 Although the precise meaning of “the

19. It is possible that the text regards the Wicked Priest as the one to whom the torah was “sent.” In this case, it is possible that the implied subject of the passive verb



The Function of Teaching Authority 267

torah” remains unclear—that is, whether it refers to a recently revealed instruction or the Teacher’s own inspired interpretations of the Sinai revelation—the text does not strain to precision; it is likely, instead, that Pentateuchal, Sinai, and special revelation are largely understood as interwoven. In this vein, to be faithful to the Teacher’s instruction is one and the same thing as being faithful to the torah in a broad sense and vice versa. One finds a further association of the Teacher with the torah in the Damascus Document as preserved in the Cairo Genizah manuscript B XX, 27–32. Here, the notion of listening to “the voice of the Teacher” is unambiguously in line with the torah. Adhering to his instruction is, for example, tantamount to “not abandoning the correct laws when they hear them,” being atoned, experiencing deliverance, and trusting in God’s “holy name.” This link of the torah with the Teacher may also be apparent in statement about “the Interpreter of the Torah” (‫)דורש התורה‬, whose statues are to be followed by community members “until there arises one who will teach righteousness in the end of days” (CD A VI, 9–11; see VII, 7 18). Whether or not this interpreter or the one to teach righteousness to come are, strictly speaking, to be identified with the Teacher of Righteousness, the text underscores the connection between belonging to the community and observance of the torah; this, in turn, aligns with what is claimed about the Teacher in CD B XX. Of course, concern with pentateuchal tradition is not emphasized to the same extent as prophetic and related tradition among the continuous pesharim. Where quotations of the former do occur in pesher-like or more “thematic” materials (e.g., in 4QCommGen in 4Q252–254 and 4Q254a),20 we find no explicit references to the Teacher. An author of a document such as 4QFlorilegium (4Q174) could quote and then interpret Exod 15:17–18, alongside doing the same for other texts such as 2 Samuel (7:10–14), Psalms (1:1; 2:1; 89:23); Isaiah (8:11), Ezekiel (44:10), and Amos (9:11) without claiming that these derive from or relate to the activity of any particular individual. It can thus be assumed that the author regards his interpretations of these traditions as authoritative. This is, of was the Teacher, whose interpretation of the torah met with rejection. In either case, the correct understanding of the torah is attributed to the Teacher. 20. The more “thematic” (rather than running biblical-exegetical) commentaries that specifically draw on pentateuchal texts would also include 4Q174 (4QFlorilegium), 4Q175 (4QTestimonia), 4Q177 (4QCatena A), 4Q180–181 (4QAges of Creation), 4Q464 (4QExposition on the Patriarchs), and 11Q14 (11QMelchizedek).

268

Loren T. Stuckenbruck

course, contrasts with the Habakkuk Pesher, in which such interpretation is credited to the Teacher, whose mode of relating the meaning of ancient tradition of “the prophets” (1QpHab VII, 5) to the present provides the essential model for the anonymous writer. Thus, unlike the prophets and as far as torah tradition is concerned, the extant Dead Sea materials do not explicitly link Scripture interpretation to the Teacher’s activity. Nevertheless, the comprehensive authority associated with him and his activity suggests that the authors writing about him understood their activities to be in continuity in line with what he was doing. However, under the cover of anonymity, their occasional mention of the Teacher (without indicating a particular interest in any other single figure) demonstrates the degree to which he functioned as a, if not the, one from whom their self-understanding was derived. If the writers and their community regarded the Teacher as the one from whom a fulfillment hermeneutic ultimately derives (1QpHab VII, 1–5), they could be confident in engaging in the same sort of activity by reading sacred tradition as a repository for revelation about their very recent and contemporary circumstances. It would not simply have been a matter of imitation, however. There was a lot at stake in the way they represented the Teacher; the assumption of continuity with him would have made it easy to retroject onto him or assimilate into him at least some of their own activities and statements about him. While the Teacher probably never composed a pesher, the authority that he claimed as the interpreter would become a genre that various writers drew on in the wake of the movement he generated. 2.4. The Teacher as the Founder of the Faithful Community At least two texts regard the Teacher as having founded a community or shaped a movement of the faithful. The first is a passage also mentioned above: 4QpPsalms Peshera 1–10 III, 15–16. The Teacher, called “the Priest,” is the one whom God established “to build for him a congregation of [ ]” (‫)הכינו לבנות לו עדת‬. This claim is not entirely consistent with the picture that emerges from the Damascus Document, following the text from Cairo Genizah (CD A I, 1–17). In the latter, the Teacher joined an already existing movement21 described as a group that, though “a root of planting 21. So Philip R. Davies, “The Teacher of Righteousness and the ‘End of Days,’ ” in



The Function of Teaching Authority 269

… in the goodness of [God’s] soil,” “were as blind as those who grope for a way for twenty years” (I, 7–10a). It is for this movement that God “raised the Teacher of Righteousness to guide them in the way of his heart” (I, 11). If there is anything to the account in the Cairo Genizah text, then the author of 4QPsalms Peshera emphasizes the Teacher as the founder of the movement while glossing over any link between him and the community’s earlier origins. 2.5. The Teacher as One in Conflict with Other Authorities As mentioned in section 2.1 above, “traitors” (‫)בוגדים‬, linked with a figure branded as “the Man of the Lie” (‫)איש הכזב‬, are presented in the Habakkuk Pesher as having opposed the Teacher’s instruction (1QpHab II, 1–5).22 A further sobriquet used for opponents of the Teacher is “the Men of Mockery” (‫אנשי הלצון‬, CD B XX, 1; 4QpIsab = 4Q162 II, 6, 10) who, in turn, may be associated with the figure designated “the Man of Mockery” (‫איש הלצון‬, CD A I, 14 // 4Q266 2 I, 18), though a precise identification between them and one or more of the “traitors” in other texts remains unclear. A related designation is “Spouter of the Lie” (‫מטיף הכזב‬, 1QpHab X, 9; 1QpMic = 1Q14 8–10 4; see CD A VIII, 13), which, though perhaps to be identified with the Man of the Lie, nowhere occurs in immediate conjunction with the Teacher. Among the Yaḥad texts, two figures (along with those associated with them) stand out as having been in conflict with the Teacher: “the Man of the Lie” and “the Wicked Priest.” For purposes of this discussion, it is unnecessary to join the many speculative voices in scholarship that venture an identification of one or both of them. More important is the recognition that when referring to them, authors were, as with the Teacher, (1) reflecting on and interpreting the past, and (2) doing so through more contemporary concerns. With New Testament representations of Jesus in mind, the critical question for analysis is how their respective treatments of past reflected attempts to process the present and, in particular, the Teacher’s role in their strategies for self-authorization. Davies, Sects and Scrolls: Essays on Qumran and Related Topics, SFSHJ 134 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1996), 90. 22. It is not clear that these are, historically, precisely the same group as those under the same designation mentioned in 1QpHab V, 8; 4QIsaiah Pesherc (4Q163) 4–7 II, 6; and 4QDamascus Documenta (4Q266) 2 I, 6 (fragmentary text that overlaps with CD A I).

270

Loren T. Stuckenbruck

Several passages explicitly link the Man of the Lie to a conflict that resulted in a split in a movement. As mentioned in the previous paragraph, 1QpHab II, 1–4 associates him with the “traitors” who did not show fidelity to the Teacher (II, 2) and to God’s covenant (II, 4). More is reported in 1QpHab V, 8–12 about the conflict. The references to “traitors” (‫ )בוגדים‬and “a wicked one” (‫ )רשע‬in Hab 1:13b are, respectively, interpreted as “the House of Absalom and the men of their counsel,” on the one hand, and to “the Man of the Lie who rejected the Torah in the midst of their council,” on the other, with the former having been “quiet at the rebuke of the Teacher of Righteousness.” The Man of the Lie may have rebuked the Teacher, who, according to the interpreter, did not receive due support from “the council.” The text does not indicate whether the event mentioned was an open debate with (an) opponent(s) or involved an altercation within the earlier movement that would split as a result (as in CD A I // 4Q266 2 I). The former would suggest that the “traitors” and “the Man of the Lie” belonged to an outside group from which the Teacher may have (mistakenly) anticipated support, while the latter possibility would conceive of the opponents as having been part of the community itself. The second, especially given its correspondence to CD A I, seems the more plausible of the alternatives. In the text (CD A I, 10– II, 1) terms applied to the Teacher’s opponent are reminiscent of the Man of the Lie and Spouter of the Lie. The Teacher is said to have “made known to the latter generations what he (God) did in the last generation in the congregation of traitors [‫—]בוגדים‬they are those that depart from the way … when there arose the Man of Mockery who spouted [‫ ]הטיף‬on Israel waters of the lie [‫ ]כזב‬and led them into a chaos without the way.” The Teacher is presented as having criticized the Man of Mockery’s leadership (see 1QpHab X, 5–13; 4QpPsa 1–10 IV, 14). If the Man of Mockery, the Man of the Lie, and the Spouter of the Lie are sobriquets for the same individual, then 1QpHab V, 5–13 refers to the aftermath of the conflict with the Teacher as having led to the establishment of “a congregation of falsehood” (V, 10) whose members “reviled and reproached the elect of God” (V, 13). Again, if the sobriquets are interchangeable, then the Man of the Lie in the Habakkuk Pesher is associated with a group in the Damascus Document also described as “those who sought smooth things” (‫ ;דרשו החלקות‬see CD A I, 18–20 // 2 I, 21–23), to whom the sobriquet “Seekers of Smooth Things” (‫ )דורשי החלקות‬would subsequently be attached (see 1QHa X, 17 [reconstructed]; 4Q163 23 II, 10; 4Q169 [Nahum Pesher] 3–4 I, 2, 7; 3–4 II, 2, 4; 3–4 III, 3, 6; 4Q177 7



The Function of Teaching Authority 271

2; 9 4). Whereas the “traitors” seem predominantly to have been a group from the past, the Seekers of Smooth Things (with the participle, “those who seek/are seeking smooth things), which may already have existed during the Teacher’s time, occur mostly in texts linked to events from a later period, that is, closer to the time and perhaps even contemporary to the authors. This group, comprehended among the texts as a whole, would have linked the Teacher’s time to that of the authors, who would have seen in the founding events referred to in CD A I, 18–20 a pattern that persists into their present. It is possible that, but nevertheless uncertain whether, the authors behind the Nahum Pesher and 4Q177 retrojected the Seekers of Smooth Things into the past, so that language about the Teacher’s conflict is accommodated to that about existing one. In this case, depictions of the Teacher’s experience would have functioned as the essential model or means through which to understand the present. There is one further figure with whom the Teacher is presented as having been in conflict: “the Wicked Priest [‫]הכוהן הרשע‬.” Although the Wicked Priest is often thought of as the Teacher’s quintessential nemesis, he is a more slippery figure. For example, whereas statements about the Teacher almost invariably occur in the perfect (and therefore, in narrative, refer to past events), the Wicked Priest is presented not only as a figure of the past, but also as one whose activity extended beyond the time of the Teacher, so that he even turns up in the future.23 Therefore, since it has been difficult to match all details in texts mentioning the Wicked Priest to any single Maccabean or Hasmonean high priest, some have proposed that the sobriquet was being applied to any inimical high priest, whether he was in conflict with the Teacher or with the community at any point in its past and present history.24 Whether or not the sobriquet was being 23. Imperfect verbs associated with his activity occur in 1QpHab at X, 3–5, XI, 14, and XII, 5, while a partly restored participle (‫ )צ]ופ[ה‬has been proposed for 4QpPsa 1–10 IV, 9. See Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar and Florentino García Martínez in The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 1:346, following the participial form used in the biblical citation of Ps 37:32. However, the perfect verb in the same line (‫ )שלח‬suggests that it is a perfect verb that should be restored (i.e., ‫)צ]פה‬. On the Wicked Priest as a figure in the past, see esp. 1QpHab VIII, 9–13, 16; IX, 10; XI, 5–8, 12–14; and 4QpPsa 1–10 IV, 9 (where, however, the subject of the verb is uncertain). Statements about the Teacher almost invariably occur in the perfect especially in the pesharim. Of course, the possibility remains that he may also be presented as an eschatological figure, as in CD A VI, 11: “the one who will teach righteousness in the end of days.” 24. This well-known “Groningen hypothesis” was argued by Adam S. van der

272

Loren T. Stuckenbruck

transferred in this sense,25 it should at least be noted that the Wicked Priest frequently occurs in texts that make no mention of the Teacher. Thus, his significance for writers of the pesharim was larger than his immediate relation to the Teacher. According to two pesharim, the Wicked Priest persecuted or even attempted to kill the Teacher: 1QpHab XI, 4–8 and 4QpPsa 1–10 IV, 7–8. While keeping an eye on the function of these events for those who reported them, we can recall these texts as follows: “Woe to anyone who causes his companion to be drunk, mixing in his anger, making drunk in order that he might gaze upon their feasts” [Hab 2:15]. Its interpretation concerns the Wicked Priest, who pursued the Teacher of Righteousness, to swallow him up with his poisonous fury to the House of Exile. And at the end of the feast, the repose of the Day of Atonement, he appeared to them to swallow them up and to make them stumble on the day of fasting, their restful Sabbath. (1QpHab XI, 4–8) “The wicked one lies in ambush for the righteous one and seeks [to put him to death. Yah]weh [will not abandon him into his hand,] n[or will he] allow him to be condemned as guilty when he comes to trial” [Ps 37:32–33]. Its interpretation concerns [the] Wicked [Pri]est, who w[aited in ambush for the Teach]er of Right[eousness and sought to] have him put to death. (4QpPsa 1–10 IV, 7–8)

In referring to a dispute between the Teacher and the Wicked Priest, the former passage implies that it was the outcome of using different calendar reckonings by the Teacher and his community, on the one hand, and the Jerusalem temple under the aegis of the Wicked Priest, on the other.26 The significance of this conflict is indicated by the extent of measures ascribed Woude, “Wicked Priest or Wicked Priests? Reflections on the Identification of the Wicked Priest in the Habakkuk Commentary,” JJS 23 (1982): 349–59; Florentino García Martínez, inter alia, in “The Origins of the Essene Movement and of the Qumran Sect,” in The People of the Dead Sea Scrolls, trans. Wilfred G. E. Watson, ed. Florentino García Martínez and Julio Trebolle Barrera (Leiden: Brill, 1995), 83–84. 25. See in particular the criticism of the sobriquet’s application to multiple individuals by Timothy H. Lim, “The Wicked Priests of the Groningen Hypothesis,” JBL 112 (1993): 415–25. 26. This has been generally recognized; see esp. Shemaryahu Talmon, “The Calendar Reckoning of the Sect from the Judean Desert,” in Aspects of the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Chaim Rabin and Yigael Yadin, ScrHier 4 (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1965), 162–



The Function of Teaching Authority 273

to the Wicked Priest’s attempt to subvert the Teacher: he (or perhaps those representing him) is reported to have sought to undermine by force the community’s observance of Yom Kippur. It is possible that the latter text more generally refers to the same event while, however, using stronger language: the Wicked Priest may have intended to kill the Teacher.27 As neither text state anything about the Teacher’s death, the attempt must have been unsuccessful. The way the conflict is presented in the Habakkuk Pesher is significant from the vantage point of the author. The event not only happened to the Teacher but also, as the plural pronouns in the citation above show, to his community. The writer understood himself (and the community of his own time) as heirs to and participants in the persecution of the Teacher. Of course, this seems an obvious point. However, the writer has interpreted general “their feasts” in Hab 2:15 as a reference to the more specific event, the Day of Atonement. The author thus not only reports an event of persecution; he also coordinates it with a festival that must also have been observed by his community. It is likely that the community of the author could not observe Yom Kippur without, at the same time, recalling what had happened to the Teacher. The Teacher’s location in “the House of Exile,” which was away from Jerusalem, would have reinforced or even justified the author and his community’s observance of the torah away from the Jerusalem cult (where the wrong calendar was in force). Appealing to this event and reporting it as having taken place on Yom Kippur would have been a defining rallying point for the later community that observed it.28 99. Callaway is overly cautious when he doubts that calendar had much to do with the conflict (History of the Qumran Community, 160–61). 27. The text has to be restored: ‫צ]פה למור[ה הצד]ק‬. The plausibility of the restoration is strengthened if the event corresponds to that of 1QpHab XI. See Maurya P. Horgan, “Psalm Pesher 1 (4Q171 = 4QPsa = 4QpPs37 and 45),” in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations, vol. 6B, Pesharim, Other Commentaries, and Related Documents, ed. James H. Charlesworth and Henry W. Rietz, PTSDDSP (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002), 18–19. 28. Concern for observing Yom Kippur is echoed in other Yaḥadic texts such as 1QS VIII, 6 (par. 4Q259 II, 15–16), 10; IX, 4 (par. 4Q258 VII, 4–5); and perhaps even 11QMelchizedek (= 11Q13) II, 7–8. Further texts among the Dead Sea Scrolls, but less obviously close to or composed by the Yaḥad, relate to the Day of Atonement: 4Q156 (4QTgLev; two Aramaic fragments preserving parts of Lev 16); the Temple Scroll (= 11QTemple) XXV, 10–XXVII, 10, which amplifies the biblical account (XXVII, 5 adds:

274

Loren T. Stuckenbruck

Without referring to the Teacher, the Habakkuk Pesher initially mentions the Wicked Priest in terms of divine punishment in the past and condemnation in the future. His initial standing as one “called by the name of truth” (1QpHab VIII, 9) is followed by a description of his decadence through haughtiness, amassing of wealth and religious impurity (VIII, 8–13). Then a twofold interpretation of Hab 2:7–8a in 1QpHab VIII, 13– IX, 7 ensues that centers on two phrases, “and you will become to them as booty” and “all the rest of the peoples will plunder two.” Both these statements are applied to punishments meted out on the Wicked Priest for his wrongdoing, including “evil diseases” and “vengeful acts on the carcass of his flesh.” Significantly, both phrases in Hab 2:8a are also interpreted in relation to a future punishment of “the last priests of Jerusalem,” who, like what the Wicked Priest in the past, “will amass wealth,” make ill-gotten profit, and be delivered into the army of the Kittim (IX, 5–7). The analogy between the Wicked Priest and the last priests indicates how much the writer regards the latter as heirs of the former. The writer’s concern does not rest with the past and future fates of the Wicked Priest and the last priests. The passage leads to the citation and interpretation of Hab 2:8b that refers to the iniquity (‫ )עוון‬that the Wicked Priest committed against “the Teacher of Righteousness and the men of his council,” the latter of whom are called “his [God’s] chosen” (IX, 9–12a), not unlike how the writer regards his community as heirs of the Teacher. Not only here, but also in the following passage that interprets Hab 2:9–11, the text elaborates on the Wicked Priest’s punishment, which is expressed in terms of both past and future (IX, 12b–X, 5, with further references to his future punishment in XI, 14 and XII, 5). The text of Habakkuk made to describe events from the remote and recent past as evidence of a punishment that leads to assurance of punishment that will assuredly also take place in the future. Thus, the language about the Wicked Priest’s fate blurs clear distinctions between the past, present, and the future. The iniquity he carried out against the Teacher is more than a past event; it is reactivated by the author through Scripture interpretation in order to come to terms with the present and to project into the future what he is confident will happen. If the Wicked Priest’s persecution of the Teacher is the same as that which is coordinated with the Day of Atonement in 1QpHab XI (see above), then

“may this day be to them a remembrance”); 4QAges of Creation A (= 4Q180 1 7–10); Book of Giants at 4Q203 7 I, 6; Jub. 5.17–19.



The Function of Teaching Authority 275

this conflict is a pattern that transcends the past and defines the community’s continuing story in its wake. As the references to past events are fragmentary rather than sustained, there is a sense in which it is not the events regarding the Wicked Priest, the Teacher, and their respective communities that gave rise to the Habakkuk Pesher (or other similar writings). Instead, the work takes its chronological point of departure in the present; more contemporary circumstances of the author’s own community, as well as the influence and anticipated coming of the Kittim (see 1QpHab II–VI and IX), invited continuous commentary of a prophetic tradition, inspired by the activity of the Teacher. The Teacher’s claim to be the definitive interpreter of sacred tradition and conflicts he encountered among opponents offered the frame of reference for the anonymous writer and his community’s identity. As such, the Teacher inaugurated a new period of revelatory obedience and activity—and conflict—that functioned to reassure, exhort, and challenge the contemporary community, called “men of truth” and “doers of the Torah” (VII, 10–11), to be faithful in his wake. 2.6. Summary Although the Yaḥad texts refer to the Teacher as an ideal figure of the recent past, the information that they convey is sketchy and fragmentary. In fact, very little about him can be known as a historical figure. Less interest is shown in identifying him by name, locating his activity within a specific period (e.g., during the Hasmonean dynasty), or in providing any kind of sustained account. All we learn from the sources concerns his role in (re)founding the community to which authors writing about him belonged, his apparent claim to interpret Scripture in terms of their real meaning as relates to the present, and his conflicts with the Man of the Lie, the Wicked Priest, and the groups aligned to them. For all his importance among the Yaḥad texts, it is surprising that no single saying or instruction is explicitly derived from him; this is all the more conspicuous since it is his teaching that is, in principle, held to be so important and essential to his profile. In referring to the Teacher, writers had presentist rather than historiographical interests. These interests expressed themselves less in terms of reworking traditions generated from the Teacher and certainly not in attributing to him instructions. At the same time, the activity they attributed to him marked the dawning of a new age that lent their interpretations an authority in their own right.

276

Loren T. Stuckenbruck

There is thus a real gap between historical information about what the Teacher taught and the abundance of interpretations offered by those who wrote about him. In the first instance, the pesharim are interpretations by the authors, not the Teacher, while the latter’s authority provided the principle by which they authenticated their work, which participated in the “last days” that the Teacher inaugurated. For those who wrote texts that refer to him, that the Teacher of Righteous taught with singular authority was perhaps more immediately important than what he actually may have said. 3. From the Teacher to Jesus, and from Writers about Him to Matthew’s Gospel Before insights for Matthew’s Gospel from the foregoing consideration of texts from the Dead Sea Scrolls can emerge, it is appropriate to indicate some obvious differences between the literatures and to identify more precisely where to place the contribution being offered. First, altogether unlike the texts referring to the Teacher, the Gospel of Matthew expressly attributes a large number of sayings to Jesus himself. Indeed, apart from the words attributed to John the Baptist, there is hardly an instruction in the gospel that does not make it clear that Jesus is the speaker. In other words, the transmission of words coming from Jesus himself or at least their attribution to Jesus was hugely significant for the writer. Second, and following from the point just made, the Gospel of Matthew—even beyond the accounts of Mark and Luke—explicitly has Jesus quoting and interpreting specific Scriptures, whereas the Dead Sea texts reviewed only refer in principle to the Teacher’s interpretation of (and, presumably, appeal to) Scripture without citing any specific or clear instance of such. Third, the presentation of Jesus in the gospel is a sustained one; it shapes the work as a whole, while the fragmentary statements about the Teacher among several compositions take a text or combination of texts as the organizing point of departure. References to the Teacher among the Scrolls, therefore, show little deliberate attempt to follow a chronological, let alone narrative, sequence. These more conspicuous differences do not take away from allowing a reading of the Dead Sea texts to comprehend Matthew’s presentation of Jesus in a new light.29 Here we sketch several interrelated comparisons that provide cause for further research. 29. Other sorts of comparisons do not relate as clearly to the main argument offered here. For example, little can be concluded for any self-authorizing strategy by



The Function of Teaching Authority 277

The first point of note is the anonymity of the authors writing about relatively recent ideal figures to whom unique authority is attributed. While the second century CE would see the attachment of proper names to gospel narratives in the New Testament, there is no effort within the gospels themselves to furnish the writers with proper names, just as the writers of documents referring to the Teacher remain fully anonymous.30 This anonymity also contrasts with other literature that drew on the proper names of ideal authors or figures of the more distant past, such as Jewish, Jewish-Christian apocalyptic, and related literature in which the use of a fictive first-person singular functions as the predominating discourse (often called pseudepigrapha).31 Second, there is the relation between the ideal figure as authoritative interpreter and the anonymous author’s own interpretive activity. We have observed how much material the Scrolls contain, especially the pesharim, which confidently offer presentist interpretations of a range of scriptural traditions, so that the ultimate meaning of a text from the remote past is understood as relating to later circumstances of the anonymous interpreters, with the Teacher’s authority providing a warrant for this. In the case of Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus is presented both as an authoritative teacher (Matt 7:29, “he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes”; 23:8, “you have one teacher”; see 28:18) and as one who interpreted scripthe author of Matthew’s Gospel on the basis of similarities such as the presentation of Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels and the Teacher in the Scrolls as figures who founded a new movement that, however, grew out of another. Whereas this seems to have been the case with Jesus (e.g., Matt 3:1–17; Mark 1:1–11; Luke 3:1–22), the notion of the Teacher’s association with an already-existing movement, which is so prominent in CD A I (par. 4Q266 2 II), is deemphasized in 4QPsalms Peshera (see 2.2 above). 30. Some regard the occurrence of “Matthew” (Matt 9:9) instead of “Levi” (Mark 2:14) as a signature by the one of that name who, in turn, was among the twelve disciples; see, e.g., William F. Albright and Christopher S. Mann, Matthew, AB 26 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995), clvxxvii–clvxxix. The late date of the gospel visà-vis Mark dictates against this view. On Plato remaining virtually anonymous in his treatment of Socrates, see Gerson, “Myth of Plato’s Socrates Period.” 31. The term does not detract from authorial claims on the part of the actual authors of such compositions. Instead, it reflects a different kind of strategy in which the authors themselves blend into (or wear the mask of) the traditional character to become the protagonist themselves. See further on pseudepigrapha in Loren T. Stuckenbruck, “ ‘Apocrypha’ and ‘Pseudepigrapha,’ ” in The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism, ed. John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 143–62.

278

Loren T. Stuckenbruck

tural tradition (4:4, 7, 10 [par. Luke 4:4, 8, 10]; 9:13; 11:10 [Luke 7:27]; 12:7; 13:14–15; 15:6–8; 19:3–9; 21:13; 26:24, 31, 54, 56; see the programmatic 5:17–20, followed by the antitheses in vv. 21–48).32 These attributions to Jesus are supplemented by the narrator’s own claims to be interpreting Scripture correctly. Taking a point of departure from Jesus’s claim to “fulfill” the law and the prophets (5:17), the gospel, also inspired by received tradition (see Mark 14:49),33 supplements the account about Jesus with a series of fulfillment quotations in narrative portions of the text (Matt 1:22; 2:15, 17, 23; 4:14; 8:17; 12:17–21; 13:35; 21:4–5; 27:9). Although Matthew’s Gospel is not the first to have done so, it may be argued that the writer augments his emphasis on Jesus’s activity as interpreter by taking license to present further events in the narrative as instances of Scripture fulfillment. Thus, not only does the gospel draw on and re-present interpretations by Jesus to address and teach his contemporaries, but it finds therein a model for Scripture interpretation to address circumstances of the gospel’s own time. Matthew thus takes on himself the mantle of Jesus’s authority; and, if Matthean departures from received tradition (Mark, material in common with Luke) are in view, the gospel’s particular way of presenting Jesus may be said to have reinforced and authorized the writer to engage in similar activity. Matthew’s Gospel, then, joined the chorus of those in the Jesus movement who remembered Jesus as the teacher, and then extended that portrait to extract from this profile on behalf of a community in conflict with contemporary groups that were emphasizing a mode of teaching associated with scribal learning.34 The similar relation between the pesher authors and the Teacher of Righteousness in the Scrolls makes this dynamic easier to recognize.

32. Along these lines, Matthew shows the likely influence of the Markan Vorlage; see Mark 1:2 (par. Matt 11:10); 7:6 (par. Matt 15:8); 10:2–9 (par. Matt 19:3–9); 14:27 (par. Matt 21:13). 33. This is in contrast to Luke’s Gospel, in which the claims that relate events regarding Jesus as the fulfillment of Scripture are attributed to Jesus himself (Luke 4:21; 22:37; 24:44; implicit may be 21:24; 22:16), with only a general claim by the writer in the prologue (1:1). 34. While I do not wish to enter into the debate on whether Jesus himself was literate, the need to present him as learned or even as an authoritative interpreter thoroughly acquainted with the Scriptures would certainly have been a particular function of Matthean interest. See the valuable study of Chris Keith, Jesus against the Scribal Elite (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2014).



The Function of Teaching Authority 279

Third, a continuity retrojected from writer back to the ideal figure, as seen in the Scrolls, throws further light on the role of the evangelist in Matthew’s Gospel. In this connection, the term scribe may be of particular importance. Now, it is impossible to know the degree to which Jesus engaged in writing and, if at all, whether this would have had anything to do with his teaching activity.35 Similarly, in the Scrolls, the Teacher, however learned or however much authority he enjoyed, is never formally linked to writing activity. While Matthew nowhere remembers Jesus as one who wrote, Jesus is presented as one who is often compared or in conflict with “the scribes,” often in tandem with other groups such as elders, chief priests, and especially the Pharisees (Matt 5:20; 7:29 [par. Mark 1:22]; 9:3 [par. Mark 2:6]; 12:38; 15:1; 16:21; 17:10; 20:18; 21:15; 23:2, 13, 15, 23, 25, 27, 29; 26:57; 27:41).36 The question emerges: How, if Jesus was not expressly being remembered as one who wrote, that is, who engaged in activity associated with learned contemporaries, was an evangelist behind the Gospel of Matthew (e.g., Matthew) to establish continuity with Jesus for his own time? Matthew’s use of tradition in Mark makes clear that he knew and received tradition about Jesus’s 35. For the present discussion, it is not important to decide whether the Teacher and/or Jesus actually wrote; more important is the explicit attribution of such or lack thereof. In neither the Gospel of Matthew nor the Scrolls is either figure presented this way, though some scholars have argued that the Teacher’s composition some of the Hodayot. See Gerd Jeremias, Der Lehrer der Gerechtigkeit, SUNT 2 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1963), 168–77, who distinguishes between “Teacher” and “non-Teacher” hymns; Hartmut Stegemann, “The Number of Psalms in 1QHodayota and Some of Their Sections,” in Liturgical Perspectives: Prayer and Poetry in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls; Proceedings of the Fifth International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, 19–23 January, 2000, ed. Esther G. Chazon with Ruth A. Clements and Avital Pinnick, STDJ 48 (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 191–234, who optimistically singled out fourteen “psalms” composed by the Teacher. 36. The scribes are treated alone in the italicized references. Interestingly, scribes do not occur alongside Sadducees in the Synoptic tradition. On the other hand, the combination of scribes in the text (in the Synoptic tradition) with other groups (esp. Pharisees), suggests that they are not, strictly speaking, distinguished from them at every turn; see Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2016), 217–69 (esp. 217–33). On the other hand, Jesus’s interaction with “a scribe” (in the singular), as in Mark’s Gospel, is more sympathetic and far less polemical (Matt 8:19 // Mark 12:32); more, see the notion of “scribes” alongside “prophets” and “wise men” being persecuted in Matt 23:34.

280

Loren T. Stuckenbruck

debates with scribes, who are frequently coupled with Pharisees (Mark 1:22; 2:6, 16 [“scribes of the Pharisees”]; 3:22; 7:1, 5; 8:31; 9:11, 14; 10:33; 11:18, 27; 12:28, 35, 38; 14:1, 43, 53; 15:1, 31). However, his distinguishing emphasis on the need of his followers to exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees (5:20) and the series of invectives against both groups throughout chapter 23 reflect circumstances with which the evangelist more immediately had to do. By analogy, writers of some of the Dead Sea texts may have retrojected contemporary conflicts with Seekers of Smooth Things into the Teacher’s past when the main opponents of the Teacher are branded as “traitors” (see section 2.5). In Matthew, the scribes and Pharisees are given such a prominent role among Jesus’s opponents not only because some of this occurs in the received tradition (i.e., from Mark), but also to reflect more contemporary debates between the gospel’s community and other Jews with contesting understandings of Jewish religious identity. In this context, Jesus is made in retrospect to offer authoritative guidance for the Matthean community, similar to the need for some writers to appeal to the Teacher of Righteousness’s activities and selected events in his life to reaffirm and reinforce their identity as faithful Jews a generation or two later. Yet Jesus himself is never called a “scribe” who, as such, engages in debate as one with comparable social standing. If, however, we instead focus on the portrait of the evangelist, more can be said. The parables discourse concludes with a remarkable saying attributed to Jesus not found in the other gospel traditions: “There every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old” (13:52 NRSV). If Lamar Cope’s analysis of this saying in the context of Matthew’s Gospel is correct, the writer is making a veiled reference to himself, inscribed into a Jesus logion. Whatever can be said about Jesus as one who taught with authority, it is the evangelist who understood himself as a scribe in an ideal sense.37 This socioreligious category, as claimed by the author, suggests how much Jesus’s interactivity with the scribes was important for the evangelist. Without singling out the ideal figure of Jesus as a scribe, 37. Lamar A. Cope, Matthew: A Scribe Trained for the Kingdom of Heaven, CBQMS 15 (Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1976), 13–30. See already Ernst von Dobschütz, “Matthew as Rabbi and Catechist,” in The Interpretation of Matthew, trans. Robert Morgan, ed. Graham N. Stanton, 2nd ed., SNTI (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1995), 27–38.



The Function of Teaching Authority 281

his own embrace of the category (or, at least, unequivocally positive use of it) projects onto Jesus a superiority in opposition to them. What Matthew’s Gospel claims for Jesus as teacher, both on the basis of traditions received and added emphases, holds true for the evangelist who writes in his wake. 4. Conclusion In some sense, the comparisons drawn above are not new in themselves. It could be argued that redaction-critical study, with its emphasis on the evangelist’s theological proclivities and time, might lead to similar insights. However, such analysis has most often focused on the author’s theology, that is, on the text’s portrait of Jesus, discipleship, use of Scripture, and any large number of themes. In addition, studies along more sociological lines have been concerned with a portrait of the Matthean community and intended audience in its socioreligious context. Finally, to be sure, narrative literary analysis has given attention to the author of Matthew as storyteller to reconstruct what the gospel presupposes about its audience based on clues that emerge from reading and hearing the text. None of these approaches, however, sufficiently addresses the implications of the evangelist’s relation to and use of Jesus tradition as a way to understand the way this author was attempting to authorize what he was doing. It is hoped that the above attempt to consider Matthew’s Gospel anew through and in conversation with the texts about the Teacher of Righteousness from the Dead Sea texts open a window that leads to further research. The self-authorizing strategy of Matthew, in taking its departure from Jesus as the teacher of Jewish Scripture and traditions who can be emulated by a “scribe” among his followers, finds a clear home among subtle modes of self-presentation by other anonymous authors who, as devotees to an ideal figure, were active during the late Second Temple period.

Part 4 Purity and Eschatology

Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew Cecilia Wassén

The Hebrew Bible exhibits a rich and variegated use of purity terminology whereby variations of the stem ‫ טמא‬appear in different contexts. Hence, a couple becomes impure from sexual intercourse (Lev 15:18); certain animals are considered impure, and their meat is prohibited food (Lev 11). Also, some particularly heinous sins are described as defiling, such as idolatry (Lev 19:32; 20:1–3). Purity language appears frequently in metaphors where impurity and sin are closely related. Scholars differ quite extensively in their assessment of the kind of impurity involved in different cases and their relationship to one another. In this endeavor, Jonathan Klawans’s division of impurities into two categories, that is, moral and ritual impurity, has been highly influential.1 I will be using his work, albeit not uncritically. The relationship between sin and impurity remains a complex and debated question. I will enter into the debate about moral and ritual impurity with regard to Matthew’s use of purity terminology. I will address the following questions: Does Matthew care about purity? Does he relate impurity to sin, and if so, in what way? I will engage with the main studies on this topic, including works by Anders Runesson and Catherine Hamilton.2 They claim that Matthew cared deeply about sin as defiling, that I would like to thank my good friends and colleagues Anders Runesson, Anne Katrine de Hemmer Gudme, and Göran Eidevall for reading an earlier draft of this paper and providing valuable comments. Whereas Anders and I disagree on Matthew’s particular views on moral impurity, it is my hope that my present engagement with his scholarship will bring the discussion on this aspect in Matthew’s Gospel forward. 1. Jonathan Klawans, Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000). 2. Anders Runesson, “Purity, Holiness, and the Kingdom of Heaven in Matthew’s Narrative World,” in Purity, Holiness, and Identity in Judaism and Christianity: Essays

-285-

286

Cecilia Wassén

is, for Matthew sin represents moral impurity. While I agree with them that purity and impurity were given concepts in early Jewish life and that Matthew is a Jewish text, I will evaluate their conclusions on this particular topic. Runesson claims that for Matthew “all kinds of sins will lead to impurity” and “the impurity generated by sin seems to be at the core of the narrative, the very reason for the arrival of the messiah at the end of time.”3 Hence, I will ask whether Matthew views sin through the lens of impurity throughout his discourse, and how we can tell whether this is the case. I will begin by examining the biblical background and give a brief overview on the scholarship on moral impurity before moving on to the sectarian texts from Qumran and, finally, to Matthew. Biblical Background The Priestly writings regulate ritual impurity, such as menstruation, genital discharge, and childbirth in detail (Lev 12–15). In general, this kind of impurity is not associated with sin, but the Priestly source stresses the importance of purification; neglecting purification is sinful (5:1–13). Furthermore, the Holiness Code (Lev 17–26 and elsewhere) applies purity terminology in the descriptions of especially heinous crimes: that is, incest and other forbidden sexual relations (Lev 18:24–30), idolatry (Lev 19:31; 20:1–3), and murder (Num 35:33–34). These crimes defile the sinners and the land (Lev 18–20). There is no means of purification, and the effects are lasting; only (divine) punishment will purge the land. In these cases, sinners may be cut off (‫ )כרת‬from their people, that is, killed (Lev 18:29); and, if not contained, they will cause the whole people to be expelled.4 In his groundbreaking book Jesus and Judaism (1985), E. P. Sanders clarifies many misconceptions about impurity.5 Correcting common perceptions among New Testament scholars who relate all kinds of impurities

in Memory of Susan Haber, ed. Carl Ehrlich, Anders Runesson, and Eileen Schuller, WUNT 305 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 144–80; Catherine S. Hamilton, The Death of Jesus in Matthew: Innocent Blood and the End of Exile, SNTSMS 167 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017). 3. Runesson, “Purity, Holiness, and the Kingdom of Heaven,” 164, 174. 4. Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 21–42. For the meaning of ‫כרת‬, see Jay Sklar, Sin, Impurity, Sacrifice, Atonement: The Priestly Conceptions (Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2005), 15–20. 5. E. P. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism (London: SCM, 1985), 182–85.



Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew 287

to sin (“confusion seems to settle like a cloud around the heads of New Testament scholars who discuss Jewish purity laws”), he emphasizes that contracting impurity is not a sin.6 Commenting on purity laws in Leviticus and Numbers, he states, “People in a state of impurity according to these and similar laws—the laws which were presumably accepted by all—were not sinners, nor had they done anything which made them inappropriate companions for ‘table fellowship.’ ”7 At the same time, he highlights that there are sins related to impurity, such as defiling the temple by entering it while impure, or eating certain prohibited creatures. While acknowledging Sanders’s contribution to scholarship on purity, Klawans criticizes him for not taking sins expressed as impurity seriously, that is, for not acknowledging moral impurity. In fact, moral and ritual impurity make up two purity systems. He states: “While Sanders accurately describes ritual impurity, his decision to discount the importance of moral impurity greatly diminishes the overall value of his work, for he cannot fully describe the dynamic of impurity in ancient Judaism without accounting for both systems.”8 By ignoring defilement from serious sins, Sanders follows the tradition of, for example, Jacob Neusner, who considered the references to impurity, in connection to these serious sins, as metaphors. Klawans persuasively argues that biblical writers sometimes express sin in purity language in a sense that goes beyond the merely figurative. According to him, this kind of impurity is real in that the defiling force of these sins is perceived as a real threat. In his words, “Many biblical and post biblical traditions believed sin to have its own distinct and non-metaphorical defiling force.”9 This is in contrast to other instances in the Hebrew Bible where purity terms applied to sins are used in a figurative sense. Hence, moral impurity in the Hebrew Bible applies to impurity caused by the three heinous sins (murder, idolatry, sexual transgressions); not all sins cause moral impurity.10

6. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism, 182. Klawans similarly criticizes scholars for “equating impurity and sin.” He points to, e.g., Jerome Neyrey, Bruce Malina, and Marcus Borg. See Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 12. 7. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism, 182–83. 8. Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 12. 9. Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 11. He acknowledges the early works by Adolph Büchler (Studies in Sin and Atonement in the Rabbinic Literature of the First Century [London: Oxford University Press, 1928) for this understanding. 10. Of course, I mean real in the sense of the perspective of the ancient people; on

288

Cecilia Wassén

It is important to keep in mind that moral impurity does not function as ritual impurity, or “bodily impurities,” in that it is not transmitted between people. In most cases, the categories of ritual and moral impurity are distinct in the Hebrew Bible: ritually impure people are, in general, not considered sinners, and sinners are not in general considered ritually impure. At the same time, the categories are not always clear-cut. This is evident when it comes to dietary laws where the two categories intersect.11 Leviticus 11 categorizes certain animals as unclean, clarifying that they transmit impurity if a person ingests their meat or touches their carcasses, that is, unclean living animals do not transmit impurity.12 Both touching their carcasses and consuming their meat is prohibited (Lev 11:8).13 In other words, eating prohibited food is both ritually and morally defiling, which does not fit well with Klawans’s two-category scheme. According to Klawans, “the best option is for the dietary laws to be seen on their own terms: a set of restrictions which overlap in some ways with each of the impurity systems.”14 Taking the ambiguous nature of dietary laws as his starting point, John Barton argues for a more complex view on impurity. Moving beyond a two-category approach, he suggests that we should consider impurity on a continuum with purely ritual impurity at the one end and purely moral impurity at the other end, with various mixed cases in between.15 He points out that incurring impurity in some cases is commendable, such as burying a dead relative, whereas in other cases impurity is depicted in neutral terms (for example, a woman menstruating or anyone touching a different level, all purity language is metaphorical, as Thomas Kazen emphasizes. See Kazen, “The Role of Disgust in Priestly Purity Law,” JLRS 3 (2014): 62–92. 11. Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 31. 12. Jacob Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, AB 3 (New York: Doubleday, 1991), 669, 681. 13. In addition, the carcass of a clean animal that has died without being slaughtered also conveys impurity to anyone who touches it (Lev 11:39) or eats of its meat (11:40). Whereas Lev 11:24–26 outlines purification rules for touching and carrying unclean animals, there are no purification rules for ingesting their meat, most likely because no one was supposed to eat such prohibited food. In contrast, there are purification rules in place in the case someone touches or eats a permitted animal that has died on its own without being slaughtered (11:39–40). 14. Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 32. 15. John Barton, Ethics in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 197–98.



Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew 289

her). Toward the other end of the spectrum, attracting impurity is morally reprehensible, such as sleeping with a menstruant, which is a capital offense (in Lev 18:19; 20:18; see Ezek 18:6; but not in Lev 15:19–24). At the very end of the spectrum we find sinful acts that defile the land and sanctuary (Ezek 36:16–18; see the deeds described in Hos 4:1–3).16 Consequently, on this scale eating the wrong food is comparable to sleeping with a menstruant, for which there similarly is no purification (Lev 18:19, 29; contra 15:24).17 Highlighting that the term ‫ טמא‬is used in all these cases, Barton argues that the two categories, moral and ritual impurity, cannot be kept entirely distinct, but rather blends with each other.18 He states: “The fact that both ends of the spectrum, and all stages in-between, can be spoken of in the same vocabulary, suggests we have here a distinctive way of looking at the world in which ritual merges into ethics, and there are variations in gravity rather than in the underlying category.”19 His insights are helpful for gaining better appreciation of how ancient people may have perceived these impurities, given that they used the same terms for moral and ritual impurity.20 In this context, we should also consider the usage of purity terminology in metaphors, since they entail emotionally loaded expressions. Terms of impurity are popular metaphors depicting the relationship between the people and their God. Impurity language is employed to denote sins, and, conversely, terms of purification often appears as metaphors for repentance, forgiveness, and atonement (see, e.g., Pss 51:4–9; 64:6; 73:13; Lam 1:9, 17; Isa 1:15–17; Ezek 24:13; 36:17–18, 25). In these texts, purification and purity are always linked to the absence or removal of sin and impurity is connected to sin. Hence, the purity terminology in metaphors suggest that bodily impurities, which make up the source domain, often carried negative connotations in spite of the neutral descriptions in, for example, Lev 15. In addition, prophets such as Jeremiah use the verbs cleanse and forgive in parallel fashion, which blurs the 16. Barton, Ethics in Ancient Israel, 198. 17. Barton, Ethics in Ancient Israel, 198. 18. Barton, Ethics in Ancient Israel, 200. 19. Barton, Ethics in Ancient Israel, 199. 20. Barton notes, “All in all, Klawans seems to me to have thrown really significant light on the relations between sin and impurity in the Old Testament, and to have shown beyond doubt that impurity comes in at least two varieties, ritual and moral: so that this distinction, which so many people think is a modern, western one, did in fact occur in ancient Israel, though within the system of ritual and taboo rather than as involving something outside it” (Ethics in Ancient Israel, 196).

290

Cecilia Wassén

distinction between purification of forgiveness: “I will cleanse them from all the guilt of their sin against me, and I will forgive all the guilt of their sin and rebellion against me” (Jer 33:8; see Ezek 24:13).21 Furthermore, the concepts of purification and atonement are intertwined in texts concerned with the rites of atonement, ‫כפר‬, since the ‫“( חטאת‬sin offering”) has both functions (e.g., Lev 16; 17:11).22 Hence, Lev 16:16 reads concerning the ‫ חטאת‬offering: “Thus he shall make atonement for the sanctuary, because of the uncleannesses of the people of Israel, and because of their transgressions, all their sins; and so he shall do for the tent of meeting, which remains with them in the midst of their uncleannesses.” The atoning and purgation effect of the ‫ חטאת‬offering is considered factual according to the priestly system and not merely symbolic.23 In numerous publications, Thomas Kazen has criticized Klawans’s attempts to find a coherent purity system in which ritual and moral impurity are distinct categories. He points to instances where “bodily impurities” (which he prefers over “ritual impurity”) are closely related to sin. So, for example, Miriam is punished with “leprosy” (scale disease), that is, a serious form of bodily impurity, for committing a sin by questioning Moses’s authority (Num 12:9–15). Furthermore, the social isolation of people suffering from scale disease and, to some degree, people suffering from abnormal discharges (‫ זב‬and ‫ )זבה‬was most likely stigmatizing. Finally, Kazen points to the ‫ חטאת‬sacrifice prescribed for purification rituals (Lev 12:8; 13:19), which also functions to remove sin.24 Like Barton, Kazen demonstrates that Klawans’s categories of purity systems do not work in all instances in the Hebrew Bible. Referring to purity texts in the Pentateuch, he states, “We must admit either that this material is unsystematic, or that it does not operate according to the categories we try to apply.”25 At the same time, Kazen offers a new understanding of the background to notions of impurity, namely, disgust. Based on evolutionary-biological

21. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations follow the NRSV. 22. Sklar, Sin, Impurity, Sacrifice, Atonement, e.g., 106−16, 139−59. 23. Sklar, Sin, Impurity, Sacrifice, Atonement, 139–59. 24. Thomas Kazen, Jesus and Purity Halakhah: Was Jesus Indifferent to Impurity?, ConBNT 38 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2002), 207–14. See Thomas Kazen, “Dirt and Disgust: Body and Morality in Biblical Purity Laws,” in Perspectives on Purity and Purification in the Bible, ed. Baruch J. Schwartz, Naphtali S. Meshel, Jeffrey Stackert, and David P. Wright, LHBOTS 474 (New York: T&T Clark, 2008), 44. 25. Kazen, Jesus and Purity Halakhah, 211.



Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew 291

and cognitive science he provides compelling evidence for why this emotion is the underlying common denominator behind bodily impurities as well as defiling sins.26 This explains why impurity language is used quite naturally for serious sins as well as bodily impurities, since they are rooted in the same feeling of disgust. In time, various strategies developed in the society to take care of these phenomena by means of “rejection, regulation, and removal.”27 He highlights instances where biblical writers use terms that express emotions of disgust, such as the frequent term “abomination” (‫ )תועבה‬for bodily impurities as well as immoral behavior. The terminology of the land “vomiting out” the people because of their abominations (Lev 18:28) is conspicuous.28 The common background is a reason why moral and ritual impurity sometimes are intertwined and overlap.29 He explains: “All three phenomena for which impurity language is used in Leviticus—dietary laws, contact-contagion, and certain types of immorality—share common traits that can be related to the primary emotion of human disgust at objectionable substances, being applied secondarily to these phenomena alike.”30 Other scholars have also criticized the compartmentalization of moral and ritual impurity proposed by Klawans. Tracy Lemos is critical of the efforts by scholars, including Kla26. Thomas Kazen, “Evolution, Emotion and Exegesis: Disgust and Empathy in Biblical Texts on Moral and Ritual Issues,” in Linnaeus and Homo Religiosus: Biological Roots of Religious Awareness and Human Identity, ed. Carl R. Brakenhielm (Uppsala: Uppsala University Press, 2009), 191–218; Kazen, “Disgust in Body, Mind, and Language: The Case of Impurity in the Hebrew Bible,” in Mixed Feelings and Vexed Passions: Exploring Emotions in Biblical Literature, ed. F. Scott Spencer, RBS 90 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2017), 97–115; Kazen, Emotions in Biblical Law: A Cognitive Science Approach (Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2011); Kazen “Role of Disgust.” In addition, Kazen argues that the whole debate concerning the difference between impurity in metaphors, on the one hand, and defiling sin, on the other, is problematic on different levels. He argues that the debate stems from a confusion of “ontological categories” (what is real) with “linguistic classifiers” (metaphor/nonmetaphor; Kazen, “Dirt and Disgust,” 45). I have previously engaged with this line of argument and pointed to the effects of different kinds of impurities, which, from the viewpoint of those who observed the laws, were quite real. See Cecilia Wassén, “Jesus’ Table Fellowship with ‘Toll Collectors and Sinners’: Questioning the Alleged Purity lmplications,” JSHJ 14 (2016): 137–57. 27. Kazen, “Dirt and Disgust,” 62. 28. Kazen, “Dirt and Disgust,” 58. 29. Kazen, “Dirt and Disgust,” 61–64. 30. Kazen, “Dirt and Disgust,” 64.

292

Cecilia Wassén

wans, to uncover underlying, coherent systems behind the texts dealing with purity.31 She highlights that the views on purity in the Hebrew Bible are heterogeneous, reflecting different and often contradictory views on purity.32 Among several examples of inconsistencies, she highlights the exceptional view on marriage with gentiles in Ezra-Nehemiah, which describes Israel’s seed as holy and considers intermarriage a sacrilege.33 She also points to the lack of references to feces as defiling in Priestly writings, while Deuteronomy (23:12–14) and Ezekiel, a priest, consider it defiling (Ezek 4:12–15).34 Lemos alleges that scholars unduly force these multiple constructions of impurity into artificial categories and schemes: “It is my position that the continuing search for a single rationale, or even two or three rationales, underlying all of the biblical texts that speak of impurity has in some ways distorted rather than enhanced our understanding of Israelite culture and religion.”35 She makes an important point: “Why does one find different ideas about purity in different biblical texts? It is because rituals are by nature constantly shifting and, more often than not, localized. It also seems probable that different Israelites may have had differing perspectives.”36 Her observation that not only the understanding of rituals but also their forms tend to change over time is supported by more recent research within ritual studies that challenges the older perceptions of rituals as being essentially stable by nature.37 31. Tracy M. Lemos, “Where There Is Dirt, Is There System? Revisiting Biblical Purity Constructions,” JSOT 37.3 (2013): 265–94. She also targets Mary Douglas, Jacob Milgrom, David P. Wright, Tikva Frymer-Kensky, and Christine Hayes. She is also critical of the tendency among scholars to find a common symbolic universe behind ritual acts, such as Milgrom’s thesis linking the purity system to ideas of death and life (see, e.g., Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, 766–68). Nevertheless, she appreciates and builds on the works of Kazen. 32. Lemos, “Where There Is Dirt,” 275, 285−89. 33. Lemos, “Where There Is Dirt,” 284–85. 34. Lemos, “Where There Is Dirt,” 285. 35. Lemos, “Where There Is Dirt,” 283. 36. Lemos, “Where There Is Dirt,” 289. Like Kazen, she is also critical of Klawans’s interpretation of some texts dealing with purity as metaphors while others are supposed to be taken literally. See Lemos, “Where There Is Dirt,” 287–88; Kazen, “Dirt and Disgust,” 45. 37. Catherine Bell, Ritual: Perspectives and Dimensions (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997). Bell explains, “Part of the dilemma of ritual change lies in the simple fact that rituals tend to present themselves as the unchanging, time-honored customs of an enduring community,” for reasons of legitimacy (210–11). Furthermore,



Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew 293

We can conclude that Klawans has furthered our understanding of purity concepts in ancient Israelite society in many ways, in particular by convincingly clarifying that serious transgressions were seen as dangerous for the community because of their defiling force. A common notion was that sins such as murder and idolatry would defile the land, which could lead to expulsion of the people should the perpetrators go unpunished. At the same time, bodily impurities were in general not considered sinful. Nevertheless, the neat division between ritual and moral impurity does not work that well in all texts; far from it. We have rather seen that the two spheres of impurity intersect in many texts, not only when it comes to dietary laws. Kazen, Lemos, and Barton have illuminated a rather complex world of ideas and rituals in connection to purity in the Hebrew Bible. Their works impress on us the need to carefully consider each text on purity and sin on its own without necessarily assuming that the text forms part of a general structured system of purity concepts. Development Klawans demonstrates that moral impurity continues to be an important topic in the late Second Temple literature. Documents such as Jubilees, Testament of the Twelve Patriarchs, Psalms of Solomon, and the Damascus Document view certain sins as defiling. The sins of idolatry

“Despite many popular preconceptions and a number of anthropological models of ritual, ritual is not primarily a matter of unchanging tradition. On the contrary, some analysts now see ritual as a particularly effective means of mediating tradition and change, that is, as a medium for appropriating some changes while maintaining a sense of cultural continuity” (251). For ritual changes in various cultures, including ancient Greece, see Jens Kreinath, Constance Hartung, and Annette Deschner, eds., The Dynamics of Changing Rituals: The Transformation of Religious Rituals within Their Social and Cultural Context, TSR 29 (New York: Lang, 2004). When it comes to Jewish purification rituals, the introduction of stepped pools in the late Hasmonean period in Palestine is an example of a major innovation in ritual practice. Most of the over 850 stepped pools that have been discovered in Palestine stem from the first century BCE until 135 CE, according to Yonatan Adler’s survey from 2011. See Adler, “The Archaeology of Purity: Archaeological Evidence for the Observance of Ritual Purity in Erez -Israel from the Hasmonean Period until the End of the Talmudic Era (164 BCE–400 CE)” (PhD diss.; Bar-Ilan University, 2011); Adler, “Religion, Judaism: Purity in the Roman Period,” in The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Bible and Archaeology, ed. Daniel M. Master (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), 240–49.

294

Cecilia Wassén

and sexual transgression are often combined and are considered defiling. Klawans notes that polluting sins include a broader category than in the Holiness Code and that the idea that sexual transgressions have a defiling impact is commonplace in the literature, and now particularly with regard to the sanctuary rather than the land.38 According to him, some documents from Qumran merge moral and ritual impurity to the extent that “the once distinct concepts of ritual and moral impurity were merged into a single conception of defilement” and that there is a “basically complete identification” of the two.39 Nevertheless, this perspective is not evident in all sectarian or prosectarian texts that deal with impurity, such as 4QMMT and the Temple Scroll, but it appears in Habakkuk Pesher, the War Scroll, the Community Rule, the Damascus Document, and Hodayot, that is, in documents he considers “full-blown sectarian literature.”40 Hence, he detects a development in the views on purity in the sectarian texts, which scholars sometimes miss. By comparison, Ian Werrett highlights many points of disagreement on purity halakah in the Qumran Scrolls.41 In agreement with Klawans, he holds that “in earlier texts, such as the Temple Scroll and 4QMMT, the combination of ritual and moral impurity is absent.”42 Frequently, however, in the later, sectarian documents, all sins are considered defiling (1QS IV, 2, 9–10), for which Klawans presents strong evidence.43 Thus, the term ‫ּתֹוע ָבה‬, ֵ “abomination,” which in the Hebrew Bible is primarily used with regard to defiling grave sins, denotes sin broadly in 1QS and the Hodayot. Also, the term ‫( נדה‬impurity) frequently refers to sins (1QS V, 19–20; 1QM XIII, 5). He highlights passages such as 1QHa VIII, 29–31 that relate atonement and purification to each other: 38. Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 59. 39. Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 75. I am not convinced of the identification of the two, in particular that ritually impure people would be considered sinners, but there is no room for developing this line of argument in the present study. 40. Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 79. 41. Ian C. Werrett, Ritual Purity and the Dead Sea Scrolls, STDJ 72 (Leiden: Brill, 2007). In his comparative study, he includes D, 11QT, 4QMMT, and other nonbiblical Cave 4 documents that were unknown prior to the discovery of the Qumran caves. 42. Werrett, Ritual Purity, 303. 43. Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 76–77. Scholars do often appear unaware of Klawans’s important distinction between the documents and claim that sectarian texts from Qumran merge the two. See, e.g., Barton, Sin, Impurity, and Forgiveness, 199; Lemos, “Where There Is Dirt,” 288.



Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew 295

Because I know that you have recorded the spirit of the righteous, I myself have chosen to cleanse my hands according to your wil[l]. The soul of your servant abhors every malicious deed. I know that no one can be righteous apart from you, and so I entreat you with a spirit that you have placed in me that you make your kindness to your servant complete [for]ever, cleansing me by your holy spirit and drawing me nearer by your good favor, according to your great kindness [wh]ich you have shown to me. (1QHa VIII, 29–31a)44

Klawans notes that the Hodayot are inspired by, for example, Ps 51, but he detects a distinction in that the Hodayot “describes sin as a defilement with much greater frequency and with much more seriousness than what was seen in Israelite and early Jewish literature.”45 Furthermore, sinners are excluded from contact with “the purity” (‫)טהרה‬, according to the penal codes in the 1QS and the Damascus Document (1QS VI, 25; 4Q266 10 II, 15 // 4Q270 7 I, 6), which indicates that the sinfulness of the members is defiling.46 Just like ritually impure people are prohibited from entering “the assembly of God” because of the presence of the holy angels according to the Rule of the Congregation (1QSa II, 3–9) so sinners cannot take part of special meals of the holy community because of their sinfulness, or moral impurity. In addition, sinners cannot become ritually pure by purification, which 1QS stresses (1QS III, 4–5; V, 13–14).47 Yet Klawans claims that the sinners are actually considered ritually impure in that they are banned from the pure meals.48 It is unclear why moral impurity in this case would be considered ritually defiling when his general point is that moral impurity in and of itself is defiling. The confusion 44. Translation by Eileen M. Schuller and Carol A. Newsom, The Hodayot (Thanksgiving Psalms): A Study Edition of 1QHa, EJL 36 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2012), 28–29. 45. Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 85. 46. Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 82–83. It is unclear to me why Klawans focuses solely on the penal code in 1QS and does not take the other penal codes into regard, i.e., in the Damascus Document and Miscellaneous Rules (4Q265). 47. 1QS III, 4–5 reads: “He must not enter the water in order to touch the purity of the men of holiness. For they cannot be cleansed unless they turn away from the wickedness, for (he remains) impure among all those who transgress his words.” Translation by Elisha Qimron and James H. Charlesworth in Rule of the Community and Related Documents, vol. 1 of The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations, ed. James H. Charlesworth (Tübingen: Mohr, 1994). 48. Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 82–85.

296

Cecilia Wassén

illustrates the problems involved in distinguishing between moral and ritual impurity at times. Furthermore, the broadening of sins as defiling, as evidenced in the literature from the Second Temple period including some sectarian texts, may not be an entirely new development. Given the sometimes ambiguous delineations between moral and ritual impurity in the Hebrew Bible, we can rather say that the overlap continues, as Barton and Lemos point out. In conclusion, impurity was a common part of life and unavoidable given that common phenomena such as sexual intercourse and menstruation were defiling. Whereas texts in the Hebrew Bible share some basic notions about purity and impurity, they do not necessarily reflect a well-structured system, either in regard to actual practice or concerning theoretical constructions. Instead, they display heterogeneity, with perspectives on impurity ranging from neutral descriptions to strongly negative perceptions. The relationship between sin and impurity is complex and often ambiguous. Metaphors commonly associate sin and impurity, which signal negative views on bodily impurity. Sin is viewed as defiling with respect to severe transgression in several texts in the Hebrew Bible, as Klawans demonstrates, and the term moral impurity is apt in these cases. But, as we have seen, the distinction between moral and ritual purity is not absolute in the Hebrew Bible, and the two sometimes overlap. In later Jewish texts idolatry and sexual transgressions are often combined and described as defiling. Some sectarian texts of the Dead Sea Scrolls perceive sinners as impure and emphasize that they cannot become pure by purification. Importantly, both Klawans and Werrett have highlighted disagreements on purity matters in the sectarian literature of the Dead Sea Scrolls. In light of the ambiguous contours of purity conceptions in early Judaism, we have to be careful when interpreting Matthew’s views on purity not to impose preconceived notions of a specific organized purity system with which Matthew interacts. Furthermore, we cannot assume without argument that the gospel gives a coherent view on purity, given that the author uses various sources including Mark and Q.49

49. I realize that most Matthean scholars today argue that Matthew presents a coherent story, regardless of which previous oral and/or written traditions he uses.



Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew 297

Conceptions of Purity in Matthew In his article “Purity, Holiness, and the Kingdom of Heaven in Matthew’s Narrative World,” Runesson demonstrates beyond doubt that Matthew subscribes to traditional Jewish views on purity and related matters: Matthew distinguishes between profane and sacred space, and considers Jerusalem and the temple a holy place (Matt 23:16–22). Matthew’s Jesus cares about ritual purity laws when he instructs the healed leper to show himself to the priest and “offer the gift that Moses commanded” (Matt 8:1– 4); he also acknowledges ritual impurity related to vessels and graves (Matt 23:25–26). In consequence, Runesson locates “Matthew’s narrative firmly within a specific ritual worldview, namely Jewish ritual world centered on the Temple and Jerusalem.”50 In addition, when it comes to law observance in general, Runesson explains convincingly that the harsh criticism of the scribes and Pharisees in the gospel is based on the view that they do not observe the laws strictly enough: “for Matthew lawlessness (anomia) is the real problem.”51 What about moral impurity? On this subject, Runesson argues that Matthew, “in ways similar to the Qumran material, claims that all kinds of sins will lead to impurity.”52 He states, “Sin is much more in Matthew than simply disobedience to God; the real problem is impurity and the aim is purity as Jesus sets the kingdom in motion.”53 Rikard Roitto approvingly summarizes Runesson’s main arguments: “As Anders Runesson demonstrates, Matthew is deeply concerned with moral purity. The Pharisees are accused of being clean on the outside but morally unclean on the inside (23:25–28). Immoral speech defiles (15:11, 18–20). The need to reconcile with a brother before sacrificing in the temple (5:23–24) implies purity logic; someone who is morally impure is not fit to participate in the cult.”54 50. Runesson, “Purity, Holiness,” 153. 51. Runesson, “Purity, Holiness,”151. 52. Runesson, “Purity, Holiness,” 164. 53. Runesson, “Purity, Holiness,” 165. 54. Rikard Roitto, “Forgiveness, Rituals, and Social Memory: Obliging Forgiveness,” in Social Memory and Social Identity in the Study of Early Judaism and Early Christianity, ed. Samuel Byrskog, Raimo Hakola, and Jutta Jokiranta (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2016), 194. Nevertheless, he does not accept the suggestion by Runesson that the Matthean community maintained a collective purity in order to “function as God's people” (201). See also Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016),

298

Cecilia Wassén

Two of these passages explicitly link sin to impurity, namely, defiling deeds (15:11, 18–20) and metaphors concerning impurity in Jesus’s accusations against the Pharisees (23:25–28). Nevertheless, I do not see an implicit concern about moral impurity in Jesus’s prescription in connection to offering a sacrifice.55 The question is then how important sin is as a morally defiling entity in the gospel. We will begin by looking at the two passages where Matthew associates sin with defilement in an explicit way. The first occurrence appears in Matt 15:1–20 in the discourse of the dispute between Jesus and Pharisees over handwashing. Matthew has altered Mark’s version in some ways that are illuminating for his views on purity matters and also shed light on the perspective of his audience. It is well known that Matthew omits Mark’s introduction of Jewish purity practices (Mark 7:1–4), which suggests that the audience of Matthew is familiar with purity concepts, many likely observing purity laws themselves (see Matt 5:17–20; 23:1–3, 23). In Matthew’s version Jesus says the following concerning what is defiling: “It is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles” (οὐ τὸ εἰσερχόμενον εἰς τὸ στόμα κοινοῖ τὸν ἄνθρωπον, ἀλλὰ τὸ ἐκπορευόμενον ἐκ τοῦ στόματος τοῦτο 195: “Since, in Matthew, sin is defiling (‘moral impurity’; 15:18–20), the dynamic of a persistent sharing of forgiveness can be likened with a continuous process of purification. The community itself thus becomes a ‘space’ which is pure, and therefore, acceptable to the presence of a being who shares with God the divine attribute of absolute power in heaven and on earth (cf. 28:18).” 55. Runesson interprets the prescription on reconciliation as the practical outcome of the law of anger and bloodshed in 5:21–22 and also points to the cause of the destruction of the temple, namely, bloodshed (23:29–24:2). Hence, “Reconciliation will resolve the cause of impurity, it seems, and make a person’s status acceptable for presence in the temple.… Moral impurity defiles the cult, and, if not eliminated, will result in the destruction of the temple” (Runesson, “Purity, Holiness,” 166). Runesson develops these ideas in his book; see Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 119–25. Still, in spite of Matt 15:19–20 (about sins that defile a person), no purity language is used in this case. As Ernst Bassland argues, the underlying theme has to do with the logic of forgiveness, as expressed in 6:11–15 (“if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you”). The matter of reconciliation, based on the same logic, continues in 5:25–26 (about coming to terms with an accuser). In contrast, Did. 14.2 employs purity terminology in a passage very similar to Matt 5:23–26, which warns about the danger of defiling the sacrifice. See Baasland, Parables and Rhetoric in the Sermon on the Mount: New Approaches to a Classical Text, WUNT 351 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015), 167.



Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew 299

κοινοῖ τὸν ἄνθρωπον; 15:11). Matthew has added “the mouth” compared to Mark’s version: “there is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile” (Mark 7:15). Thereby Matthew emphasizes that the contrast is about defiling food versus words; in other words, it is not about food versus defiling excrements or bodily fluids, which is a possible initial interpretation of Mark’s “things that come out” (although this possible meaning is later dismissed in Mark’s narrative).56 Matthew instead prepares the listeners for the explanation, which Jesus later gives to his disciples (15:17–20): “Do you not see that whatever goes into the mouth enters the stomach, and goes out into the sewer? But what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this defiles a person. For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person, but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile” (NRSV, modified). Jesus’s explanation does not quite match the previous saying, which several commentators note. In Matt 15:11 Jesus contrasts what goes in with what goes out, but here what goes into the mouth also gets out and into the sewer. The reference to the sewer implicitly dismisses human feces as a source of defilement (see Deut 23:12–14; Ezek 4:12–15). There does not appear to be any underlying debate concerning this matter in the way Matthew presents Jesus’s words. Concerning moral impurity, Jesus explicitly says that certain sins defile a person. The traditional biblical grave sins, murder and sexual transgressions, come early in the list. But additional sins are also considered defiling, similar to the perspective of other early Jewish texts. It is noticeable that Matthew adds “false witness” (ψευδομαρτυρίαι) to “slander” (βλασφημία) from Mark’s list, possibly in an attempt to tie the sins to the mouth (since he emphasizes the latter).57 Matthew omits Jesus’s unequivocal claim, that “nothing that goes into a person from outside can defile” in Mark (7:18), as well as Mark’s interpretative comment, “Thus he declared all foods clean” in Mark 7:19. Mark’s wording implies that the no food can become ritually impure. Evidently, Matthew disagreed with the wording, perhaps in order to prevent readers from getting the faulty impression that Jesus dismisses the dietary laws in 56. John Painter, “Mark and the Pauline Mission,” in Two Authors at the Beginnings of Christianity, part 1 of Paul and Mark: Comparative Essays, ed. Oda Wischmeyer, David C. Sim, and Ian J. Elmer, BZNW 198 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2014), 527–55. 57. Thomas Kazen, Scripture, Interpretation, or Authority? Motives and Arguments in Jesus’ Halakic Conflicts, WUNT 320 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 126.

300

Cecilia Wassén

Lev 11, which is how many modern interpreters understand Mark 7:19.58 Instead Matthew clarifies that the debate concerns handwashing by adding the last clause, “but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile.” Hence, in contrast to Mark’s narrative, Matthew’s version cannot be construed as being a debate about dietary laws in Lev 11. In Matthew, the issue more clearly concerns ritual purity in connection to eating permitted food. It is most likely, as James Crossley argues, that the debate over handwashing prior to meals goes back to Jesus.59 Hence, the debate was never about prohibited food, that is, pork and so on, which would not be an issue of debate among Jews. Instead, a debate over handwashing is historically plausible in the time of Jesus, when the practice would have been novel. Thus, the debate, if it took place, concerned the transmission of ritual impurity at regular meals. Matthew’s Jesus expresses a halakic position on food laws that fits well within the common Jewish legal paradigm, even compared to later rabbis. What then does the text reveal about the importance of moral impurity for Matthew? It is noticeable that Matthew has shortened the list of vices in comparison to Mark 7:21–22. Matthew 15:19 reads: “evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander” (ἐξέρχονται διαλογισμοὶ πονηροί, φόνοι, μοιχεῖαι, πορνεῖαι, κλοπαί, ψευδομαρτυρίαι, βλασφημίαι). Mark 7:21–22 reads: “evil intentions … fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly” (οἱ διαλογισμοὶ οἱ κακοὶ ἐκπορεύονται, πορνεῖαι, κλοπαί, φόνοι, μοιχεῖαι, πλεονεξίαι, πονηρίαι, δόλος, ἀσέλγεια, ὀφθαλμὸς πονηρός, βλασφημία, ὑπερηφανία, ἀφροσύνη). In addition, Matthew explains that the issue still concerns handwashing by adding the last clause—“but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile” (15:20b)—to Mark’s text. Hence, it appears that Matthew, in narrating this episode, stresses the laws concern58. Based on the context, John van Maaren makes the convincing point that “it is hardly conceivable that the disciples were eating non-kosher meats and therefore, in the Marcan narrative, also 7:19c must also refer to kosher food. The narrator does not mean to clarify that now all food is permitted, but that permitted food does not convey impurity.” See van Maaren, “Does Mark’s Jesus Abrogate Torah? Jesus’ Purity Logion and Its Illustration in Mark 7:15–23,” JJMJS 4 (2017): 38−39. I may add that the term βρώματα refers to prepared food to be eaten. If the intention would have been to dismiss dietary laws of Lev 11, then Mark’s Jesus would likely rather have used the term κτήνη, “beasts,” from LXX Lev 11:2. 59. James G. Crossley, The Date of Mark’s Gospel: Insight from the Law in Earliest Christianity, LNTS 266 (London: T&T Clark, 2004), 197.



Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew 301

ing ritual impurity, not moral impurity, in comparison to Mark. Still, Matt 15:10–20 presents sins, even evil thoughts, as defiling, or morally impure. Matthew also expresses matters of morality in terms of purity in chapter 23, where the scribes and Pharisees are compared to impure vessels and graves.60 Nevertheless, the connection between sin and impurity is not as strong as it first seems. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and of the plate, but inside they are full of greed and selfindulgence. You blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup, so that the outside also may become clean. (23:25–26) Οὐαὶ ὑμῖν, γραμματεῖς καὶ Φαρισαῖοι ὑποκριταί, ὅτι καθαρίζετε τὸ ἔξωθεν τοῦ ποτηρίου καὶ τῆς παροψίδος, ἔσωθεν δὲ γέμουσιν ἐξ ἁρπαγῆς καὶ ἀκρασίας. Φαρισαῖε τυφλέ, καθάρισον πρῶτον τὸ ἐντὸς τοῦ ποτηρίου, ἵνα γένηται καὶ τὸ ἐκτὸς αὐτοῦ καθαρόν (23:25–26)

The legal background of 23:25–26 is unclear. It may relate to the rules about cleansing of vessels in a house after the removal of the corpse, which at least fits the first part of the saying.61 According to Num 19:15, 18, when a person dies in a tent, the tent and all the vessels (‫ )כלים‬should be sprinkled. Any open vessel is considered unclean, which implies that sealed vessels and their contents remain clean. The Temple Scroll column XLIX presents additional legal details on this matter, distinguishing between ordinary and pure men. For the latter also, sealed vessels are considered impure. The text prescribes purification of vessels made of wood, iron, and bronze, “and all vessels that may be purified,” which would presumably exclude clay jars (see Lev 11:33; 15:12). Nevertheless, the suggestion that laws concerning vessels in the corpse-impure tent may be a background 60. The validity of the purity law about cleaning the dishes is apparent when we compare the passage to the parallel in Luke. While the first part is similar to Matthew’s version, the second part is quite different: “Now you Pharisees clean the outside of the cup and of the dish, but inside you are full of greed and wickedness. You fools! Did not the one who made the outside make the inside also? So give for alms those things that are within; and see, everything will be clean for you” (Luke 11:39–41). Luke includes a simile involving unmarked graves (11:44) among his woes, but the point of the metaphor differs substantially from that of Matthew’s. 61. Kazen, Jesus and Purity Halakhah, 184, 225. Possibly by sprinkling, according to Werrett; see Ritual Purity, 145. Even clay vessels would be fine.

302

Cecilia Wassén

is problematic. Kazen points out that the vessels in Matt 23:25–26 include an open dish, which does not fit the laws that distinguish between sealed and unsealed vessels.62 In his and also Jodi Magness’s opinion, that background debate is rather found in rabbinic laws on impurity of the inner and outer sides of vessels, which may have been operative also in the first century CE.63 Magness refers to, for example, m. Kelim 25:4: “a utensil whose outer parts are made unclean—its inner part is not made unclean.”64 Such debates were informed by prescriptions in, for example, Lev 11:29– 35, and this background better fits the whole saying. The basic metaphor, which is not spelled out, is “a human is a vessel.”65 The explicit metaphors focus on the contrast between the inner and outer sides of the vessel, that is, the source domain, which is applied to a person, that is, the target domain. The label “hypocrites” sets the tone and provides an interpretive clue: the critique pertains to the discrepancy between the inner nature and outer appearance of the opponents. Figuratively, they look clean, but they are dirty on the inside. Nevertheless, their filth is described nonfiguratively as greed and self-indulgence (Matt 23:25). The critique against the opponents follows the same line of argument as Jesus’s accusation against them with reference to Isaiah in Matt 15:7–8, which 62. Kazen, Jesus and Purity Halakhah, 225. Also the Damascus Document prescribes rules for purifying vessels, although it does not clarify the context: “Concerning one who purifies himself in water: let no man bathe in water which is dirty or is insufficient to cover a man; neither let him purify a vessel in it” (CD A X, 10–12). Translation by Joseph Baumgarten and Daniel R. Schwartz, “Damascus Document (CD),” in Damascus Document, War Scroll, and Related Documents, vol. 2 of The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations, ed. James H. Charlesworth, PTSDSSP (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1995). In addition, Mark refers to Jewish traditions of “the dipping of cups, pots, and bronze kettles” that go beyond simple cleaning (Mark 7:4). 63. Kazen, Jesus and Purity Halakhah, 225. See also Jodi Magness, Stone and Dung, Oil and Spit: Jewish Daily Life in the Time of Jesus (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), 21–22. 64. Magness, Stone and Dung, 22. 65. The figurative language is reminiscent of biblical images where humans and nations are likened to vessels, pots, and clay often in order to stress the frailty of humans in relation to God. See, e.g., Job 10:9; Ps 31:12; Isa 29:16; 64:8; Jer 19:11. Ezekiel 22 is particularly interesting since he uses the metaphor of an unclean pot that cannot be cleansed to illustrate the sins of the people and the necessary punishment. Metaphors involving clay, including “vessel of clay,” appear frequently in 1QHa (see, e.g., XI, 25; XII, 30; XIX, 5; XX, 35).



Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew 303

also highlights the contrast between inner and outer, in this case by the metaphors of lips and heart: “You hypocrites! Isaiah prophesied rightly about you when he said: ‘This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.’ ” The metaphors in Matt 23:25–26 are compatible with an understanding of sin as a defiling entity, in this case something one should wash out in order to purify properly. Hence, ritual purity laws (clean the inside first) are used metaphorically for describing the importance of the uprightness of a person. This is reminiscent of metaphors that poetically describe sin as impurity in the Hebrew Bible, for example, Isa 1:16–17: “Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to good.”66 Primarily, the metaphor of the cleansing of a vessel in Matthew highlights the discrepancy between the image of a person and his (or her) thoughts, and secondarily it may inspire interpretations relating to ritual and moral purity. The next woe continues on the theme of comparing the inside and outside of a person, contrasting the righteous appearance of the scribes and Pharisees, with their immoral inner nature. “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which on the outside look beautiful, but inside they are full of the bones of the dead and of all kinds of filth. So you also on the outside look righteous to others, but inside you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness” (23:27–28). The impurity of bones and graves is taken for granted in this simile. Hence, again Matthew uses ritual impurity as a metaphor for the sinful nature of the opponents. Still, the main point is not about purity but again about the contrast about appearance and reality. Matthew 23:28 makes the key message plain: “So you also on the outside look righteous to others, but inside you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness.” Matthew’s Jesus has nothing against the whitewashed look of the tombs, or the outer righteous behavior, but he condemns the discrepancy between the outer appearance and inner nature. Concepts about the ritual impurity of graves and dishes (source domain) are used metaphorically to reveal the true nature of the scribes and Pharisees (target domain). The 66. See Isa 1:15–17: “When you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood. Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.”

304

Cecilia Wassén

metaphors do not present sin as defiling per se but associate sin with impurity. Possibly Matthew has chosen the figurative language of cleansing of cups and impurity of graves because Jesus in the narrative is addressing the scribes and the Pharisees, who are known to be concerned particularly about purity halakah (see 23:24). Together with Matt 15:10–11, 17–20, these are the key passages where Matthew associates sin with impurity. At the same time, he frequently addresses the topic of sin without using impurity language. For example, Jesus’s teaching in 12:33–37 stresses similar, basic points as in 15:18–19 about the danger of an evil heart and evil words, but without the purity terminology: “You brood of vipers! How can you speak good things, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks” (12:34). Similarly, Matthew does not signal to his readers that the rules in the Sermon of the Mount on anger and bloodshed, or reconciliation, have to do with impurity (5:21–26). Not even the condemnation against adultery is framed in purity language (5:27–30). What, then, about forgiveness? Does the concept relate to purification? Runesson holds that “the aim of forgiveness is to purify the people from the defilement resulting from sin (see Matt 15:18–20). The basic worldview is thus the same for the Matthean Jesus as for many other forms of Judaism at this time.”67 Nevertheless, there is a general lack of purity language also in this area. Roitto explains that Matthew imagines sin in two different ways, as “a morally defiling substance and as monetary debt.”68 Building on the work of Nathan Eubank, Roitto claims that “monetary metaphors permeate Matthew.” According to this pattern, guilt is described metaphorically as debt, and good deeds as treasure. Importantly, Jesus’s death, which is the reason forgiveness from sin is possible, is described as a “ransom” (λύτρον; 20:28), which belongs to the realm of debt metaphors.69 This raises the question of how we should understand the significance of Jesus’s death in the narrative of the Last Supper. The key phrase is, of course, Jesus’s words “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out [ἐκχύννω] for many for the forgiveness of sins” (τοῦτο γάρ ἐστιν τὸ αἷμά μου τῆς διαθήκης τὸ περὶ πολλῶν ἐκχυννόμενον εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτιῶν; 67. Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 122. 68. Roitto, “Forgiveness, Rituals, and Social Memory,” 194. 69. Roitto, “Forgiveness, Rituals, and Social Memory,” 194. He refers to Nathan Eubank, Wages of Cross-Bearing and Debt of Sin: The Economy of Heaven in Matthew’s Gospel, BZNW 196 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2013).



Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew 305

26:28). Matthew has altered Mark’s wording, most importantly by adding the reference to εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτιῶν (see Mark 14:24: “this is my blood of the covenant which is poured out for many,” τοῦτό ἐστιν τὸ αἷμά μου τῆς διαθήκης τὸ ἐκχυννόμενον ὑπὲρ πολλῶν). Given the emphasis on forgiveness, Runesson interprets Jesus’s death in Matthew as “the atoning sacrificial act of the Messiah whose blood ‘is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.’ ”70 Furthermore, according to him “in order to save his people from their sins—and the impurity that results from sin—Jesus is said to offer his own body as a sacrifice, taking the place of the defiled, empty, and soon to be destroyed temple (Matt 26:26–29).”71 In her book on the death of Jesus in Matthew, Catherine Hamilton examines Jesus’s wording at the Last Supper in detail and in light of the entire Matthean narrative.72 She uncovers a theme of the shedding of innocent blood, which comes to the fore in the depictions of the massacre in Bethlehem and the murders of righteous people from Abel to Zechariah, culminating in Jesus’s death (2:16–18; 23:35; 27:25). This causes major pollution. Hence, Jesus’s death, and his innocent blood poured out for the forgiveness of sins, solves the problem of sin and of pollution, according to her. Hamilton points out that “the blood of the covenant” refers to Exod 24:8 (LXX = τὸ αἷμα τῆς διαθήκης), that is, the covenant ceremony, which has nothing to do with atonement and cleansing.73 Nevertheless, in her view Matthew’s wording also recalls Lev 16 and the ‫חטאת‬, the sacrifice that provides atonement and cleansing: “Matthew describes the blood of the covenant in terms of sacrifice for sins.”74 She submits that “Matthew’s terminology—περί, ἁμαρτία, ἄφεσις—is that of Lev 16, where the problem is uncleanness and the concern is sanctification of the people and the holy place.”75 Given the problem of the murders highlighted in Matthew 70. Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 195. 71. He continues, “His blood is ‘poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.…’ This function of his death is already suggested in 20:28, where the life of ‘the Son of Man’ is said to be given as ‘a ransom for many.’ Jesus’s death leads to the removal of impurity that results from sin and offers a way for the people to be holy and ‘perfect’ (Matt 5:48) after the temple cult has been lost” (Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 128). 72. Hamilton, Death of Jesus in Matthew. 73. “Moses took the blood and dashed it on the people, and said, ‘See the blood of the covenant that the Lord has made with you in accordance with all these words.’ ” 74. Hamilton, Death of Jesus in Matthew, 222. 75. Hamilton, Death of Jesus in Matthew, 221.

306

Cecilia Wassén

and the implicit defilement of the land, it would be expected that Matthew resolved the issue by presenting Jesus’s death as an atoning sacrifice (‫)חטאת‬. Still, the alleged parallels to Lev 16 LXX are not convincing. Hamilton notes that the phrase εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτιῶν never appears in LXX, but draws attention to ἄφεσις in Lev 16:26, the only time the word occurs in connection to sin. But the meaning of the word differs quite drastically compared to Matthew, since in Leviticus εἰς ἄφεσιν refers to the goat who is driven out in the desert, who is “let go.”76 Many scholars argue in favor of associating the wording in Matt 26:28 with a sacrifice effecting purification.77 Nevertheless, Kazen reaches the opposite conclusion. Discussing the significance of the addition of the phrase εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτιῶν in Matthew, he argues against an implicit connotation to the sin offering (‫)חטאת‬. He points out the obvious, namely, that Jesus’s death is not called a sin offering. He concludes, “Forgiveness becomes available through Jesus’ death, but Matthew does not indicate that we should look to the sin offering for an explication.”78 Given that the covenant sacrifice does not pertain to removal of guilt, the connection between forgiveness and the blood of the covenant should rather be understood within the wider context of forgiveness within the Matthean community, as Roitto argues.79 According to Roitto, Jesus’s death estab76. Lev 16:26 LXX: “And he that sends forth the goat that has been set apart to be let go [καὶ ὁ ἐξαποστέλλων τὸν χίμαρον τὸν διεσταλμένον εἰς ἄφεσιν] shall wash his garments, and bathe his body in water, and afterwards shall enter into the camp.” 77. For example, Boris Repschinski claims that “poured-out blood is a constitutive elemental sacrificial rites in the temple, and those sprinkled with it are cleansed and purified. Together with the mention of the covenant, Matthew eludes to Exod 24:1–11, which contains all the elements necessary for a sacrificial ritual of purification.” He further submits, “Purification from sinfulness is no longer achieved through sacrifices offered in the temple. The whole system of purification in the temple is replaced by Jesus himself.” See Repschinski, “Purity in Matthew, James, and Didache,” in Matthew, James, and Didache: Three Related Documents in Their Jewish and Christian Settings, ed. Huub van de Sandt and Jürgen K. Zangenberg, SymS 45 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2008), 384. 78. Thomas Kazen, “Sacrificial Interpretation in the Narratives of Jesus’ Last Meal,” in The Eucharist, Its Origins and Contexts: Sacred Meal, Communal Meal, Table Fellowship in Late Antiquity, Early Judaism, and Early Christianity, ed. David Hellholm and Dieter Sänger, WUNT 376 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2017), 3:488. 79. Kazen, “Sacrificial Interpretation,” 486–88. According to Roitto, for Matthew baptism is a ritual of initiation into discipleship and does not provide forgiveness (see 3:2; 28:19–20). He explains, “Rather, forgiveness is an aspect of the continuous life of



Moral Impurity in the Gospel of Matthew 307

lishes a covenant in which there is forgiveness of sins, and further, “forgiveness is thus said to come from participation in the covenant, and not directly from partaking in the Eucharist.”80 From this perspective, which I share, there is no reason to associate Jesus’s death, as expressed in Matt 26:28, with purification. Conclusion The Gospel of Matthew displays traditional Jewish views on purity. Matthew upholds ritual purity laws and concepts, and uses ritual impurity of graves and dishes metaphorically as the source domain to accuse his opponents of wickedness and moral corruption. He carefully recrafts Mark’s discourse on the debate between Jesus and the Pharisees over purity laws in connection to meals so that Jesus’s teaching emphasizes the ethical message without limiting the validity of the ritual purity laws. Matthew’s Jesus frames various sins in purity terminology, claiming that they are defiling. The defiling force of sins should be understood quite literally, since such defilement is contrasted with bodily impurities (“it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles”). Hence, Matt 15:10–20 reflects a concept of sin as impurity, or moral impurity. In contrast to the Holiness Code, the list of vices in Matt 15:19 includes a variety of sins, ranging from serious transgressions (e.g., fornication and murder) to evil intention and slander. Thereby Matthew in this instance associates sins in a broad sense with impurity, which is quite common in early Jewish texts, particularly in some of the sectarian documents from Qumran. These in turn reflect a development of a tendency already apparent in the Hebrew Bible. We noticed above that there are quite a few examples of the association between sin and impurity also in the Hebrew Bible, including some of the dietary laws. In addition to Matt 15:10–20, the woes in 23:25–28 also associate impurity and sin in the metaphors of dishes and graves, but the link between sin and impurity is not particularly strong. The metaphors primarily express a critique against the scribes and Pharisees concerning hypocrisy, focusing on the contrast between external and internal: their inner intentions and

the Matthean community (6:8–13; 18:18–20).” See Roitto, “Forgiveness, Rituals, and Social Memory,” 191. 80. Roitto, “Forgiveness, Rituals, and Social Memory,” 202.

308

Cecilia Wassén

thoughts do not match the outer impression of righteousness. Only secondarily do the metaphors convey a link between impurity and sin. In other parts of the gospel, Matthew refrains from using purity language in relation to sin or forgiveness. It is conspicuous that Matt 26:28—a central text for understanding the significance of Jesus’s death in relation to people’s sins—does not allude to the sin offering (‫)חטאת‬, which provides both atonement and purification. Based on the work by Roitto and Kazen, I argued that “the blood of the covenant poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” instead alludes to the covenantal sacrifice. In light of this survey, it appears that the view of sin as a defiling entity is not as a prominent concept in Matthew as Runesson and others claim. Of course, one could argue that Matt 15:10–20 is a central text and that it therefore makes up an interpretive key to understanding the rest of his statements about forgiveness and sins. The drawback with such a reasoning is that Matthew does not signal such a reading to his audience; in other words, they are not directed to read the other passages on sin, such the Sermon on the Mount, in light of 15:10–20. Instead of a language of impurity, Matthew prefers metaphors of debt when describing sin. Hence, given that the gospel quite rarely relates sin to impurity, I conclude that we should not ascribe a major concern about moral impurity to Matthew.

Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls Daniel M. Gurtner

Introduction It is well documented that the book of Daniel was an influential text both in the Gospel of Matthew and among the Dead Sea Scrolls. Daniel’s importance at Qumran is attested by its presence among Qumran manuscripts, its literary influence on distinct Qumran documents,1 and the long shadow it casts on Qumran sectarian ideology. By contrast, the singular text of Matthew has only a few allusions and still fewer quotations. Most scholars rightly recognize that other texts from the Hebrew Bible were more important for Matthew, and scholarly discourse on Danielic influence in Matthew is typically limited to coming of “son of man” (Dan 7:13; e.g., Matt 24:27, 30, 37, 39, 44; 25:31; 26:64) and the “desolating sacrilege” (Dan 11:31; Matt 24:15). Discussion of Danielic influence on both the Scrolls and Matthew is surprisingly sparse. The present paper examines the breadth of Danielic influence on the Scrolls and Matthew to elucidate the ways in which Daniel informed and shaped the eschatological outlooks of the respective texts. It demonstrates that despite the Judaic and sectarian natures of the respective traditions in general and their mutual dependence on Daniel for facets of their respective eschatological outlooks in particular, Matthew and the Scrolls utilize texts from Daniel in their own contexts in a manner that exhibits sharp distinction in their communities’ respective ideologies.

1. E.g., 4Q242; see Dan 4; 4Q243–245; Dan 5; 4Q246.

-309-

310

Daniel M. Gurtner

Daniel in the Dead Sea Scrolls At a textual level Daniel’s importance at Qumran is attested by the eight manuscripts discovered in Caves 1, 4, and 6.2 Daniel is also noted for its literary influence on three distinct Qumran documents: the Prayer of Nabonidus (4Q242; see Dan 4), the Pseudo-Daniel texts (4Q243–245; see Dan 5), and 4Q246, the so-called Son of God text (4QAramaic Apocalypse), not to mention numerous citations of Daniel attested among the Scrolls.3 Daniel’s influence on Qumran literature and ideology is found in, among other things,4 the sect’s self-understanding, its conception of eschatological warfare, and its calculations of eschatological time and 2. 1QDana–b, 4QDana–e, 6QpapDan. See Eugene Ulrich, “The Text of Daniel in the Qumran Scrolls,” in The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception, ed. John J. Collins and Peter W. Flint, VTSup 133, FIOTL 2 (Leiden: Brill, 2001), 2:574. The most complete analysis of Daniel among the Scrolls is that of Alfred Mertens, Das Buch Daniel im Lichte der Texte vom Toten Meer, SBM 12 (Würzburg: Echter, 1971). 3. There are: Dan 2:1–49 (4QMystb [4Q300] 1a II–b 1); Dan 4:24(27) (4QBarkhi Nafshia [4Q434] 1 I, 3); Dan 6:23 (1QHa XIII, 11 [V, 9]); Dan 7:9–10 (4QEnGiantsb ar [4Q530 2 II + 6 + 7 I + 8–11 + 12[?], 17–19]); Dan 9:7 (4QDibHama [4Q504] XIX, 4 [1–2 VI, recto 3]; 4QDibHama [4Q504] XIX, 14–15 [1–2 VI, recto 13–14]; 4QDibHama [4Q504] XVIII, 12–13 [1–2 V, recto 11–12]); Dan 9:16 (4QDibHama [4Q504] XV, 12 [1–2 II, recto 11]; 4QDibHama [4Q504] XIX, 12 [1–2 II, recto 11]); Dan 9:27 (1QHa XI, 37 [III, 36]); Dan 10:8 (1QHa XIII, 34 [V, 32]); Dan 10:16 (1QHa XI, 8–9 [III, 7–8]); Dan 11:11 (1QM I, 4 par. 4QpapMf [4Q496] III, 3); Dan 11:32 (4QapocrJer Ca [4Q385a] V, 8–9 par. 4QapocrJer Cb [4Q387] III, 6; 1QM I, 2; 4QMidrEschata [4Q174] IV [1 II; 3, 24, 5, 12], 4a); Dan 11:38 (4QDibHama [4Q504] XVII, 11–12 [1–2 IV, recto 10–11]); Dan 11:38 (4QDibHama [4Q504] XIX, 15 [1–2 VI, recto 14]); Dan 11:42 (1QM I, 6); Dan 11:44 (1QM I, 4 par. 4QpapMf [4Q496] III, 3); Dan 12:1 (1QM I, 12 par. 4QpapMf [4Q496] 2 + I, 3); Dan 12:7 (4QHistorical Text A [4Q248] 9–10); Dan 12:10 (4QMidrEschata [4Q174] IV [1 II; 3, 24, 5, 12], 3–4a]). See Armin Lange and Matthias Weigold, Biblical Quotations and Allusions in Second Temple Jewish Literature (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2011), 186–88. See also David L. Washburn, A Catalog of Biblical Passages in the Dead Sea Scrolls (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2002), 136–39. On the Prayer of Nabodinus, see Carol A. Newsom, “Why Nabonidus? Excavating Traditions from Qumran, the Hebrew Bible, and Neo-Babylonian Sources,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Transmission of Traditions and Production of Texts, ed. Sarianna Metso, Hindy Najman, and Eileen M. Schuller, STDJ 92 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 57–79. On the Pseudo-Daniel texts, see Lorenzo DiTommaso, “4QPseudoDaniela–b (4Q243–4Q244) and the Book of Daniel,” DSD 12 (2005): 101–33. 4. John J. Collins, Daniel, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1994), 73–79, acknowledging Mertens, Das Buch Daniel.



Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls 311

redemptive history.5 Daniel 11–12 is the primary source and influence for these and other conceptions among the Qumran texts. Though it stood as a formative influence, it is sometimes observed that one key eschatological aspect of Dan 11–12 is not transferred into the Qumran context: the resurrection of the dead.6 According to Andrew Perrin, the burgeoning importance of Danielic traditions is evidenced in three ways.7 First, the book was promptly transmitted, translated, and circulated. This is evidenced by the eight manuscripts of Daniel found at Qumran (two from Cave 1 [1Q71–1Q72 = 1QDana–b], five from Cave 4 [4Q112–116 = 4QDana–e], and one from Cave 6 [6Q7 = 6QpapDan]), with the HebrewAramaic form (e.g., 4QDana at 2 4b) dated paleographically as early as the mid-first century BCE.8 This places Daniel among the best-attested 5. On the sect’s self-understanding, note the Danielic notion of the “wise among the people” (‫ )משכילי עם‬who will instruct the common people (‫רבים‬, Dan 11:33; 1QS III, 13; see 1QSb I, 1; III, 22; V, 20). This “institutional” terminology (e.g., CD A XIII, 7; XIV, 7, 12; XV, 8) derives from Daniel, though they do not have the institutional sense in Daniel. Collins, Daniel, 73, citing Friedrich Nötscher, Zur theologischen Terminologie der Qumran-Texte, BBB 10 (Bonn: Hanstein, 1956), 56. On eschatological warfare, see Collins, Daniel, 73. Notably, 1QM I, 2 (Dan 11:32); 1QM I, 3 (Dan 11:30); 1QM I, 4 (Dan 11:44); 1QM I, 6 (Dan 11:42, 45); 1QM I, 11–12 (Dan 12:1; see 1QM XVII, 7). On eschatological time, see, e.g., the 490 years (Dan 9:24–25; e.g., 4Q180–181; 11QMelch II, 18; see CD A I, 5–6). On redemptive history, see, e.g., 1 En. 9.6–7; 93.10; Jub. 23.26; CD A I, 7; III, 12–20. Its shared recognition of an apocalyptic worldview, articulated with different terms (e.g. ‫רז‬, “mystery” [Dan 2:18, 27, 29, 47; 4:6], and ‫פשרא‬, “interpretation”), form analogous modes of understanding dream interpretation and sectarian exegesis, respectively. See Collins, Daniel, 75. 6. Collins, Daniel, 74; John J. Collins, “The Mythology of Holy War in Daniel and the Qumran War Scroll: A Point of Transition in Jewish Apocalyptic,” VT 25 (1975): 596–612. 7. Andrew Perrin, “Daniel, Book of,” ESTJ 1:150. 8. On the Qumran manuscripts, see Eugene Ulrich, “The Text of Daniel in the Qumran Scrolls,” in Collins and Flint, Book of Daniel, 2:574. In full, these are 1QDaniela (1Q71; Dan 1:10–17; 2:2–6); 1QDanielb (1Q72; Dan 3:22–30); 4QDaniela (4Q112; Dan 1:16–20; 2:9–11, 19–49; 3:1–2; 4:29–30; 5:5–7, 12–14, 16–19; 7:5–7, 25–28; 8:1–5; 10:16–20; 11:13–16); 4QDanielb (4Q113; Dan 5:10–12, 14–16, 19–22; 6:8–22, 27–29; 7:1–6, 11?, 26–28; 8:1–8, 13–16); 4QDanielc (4Q114; Dan 10:5–9, 11–16, 21; 11:1–2, 13–17, 25–29); 4QDanield (4Q115; Dan 3:23–25; 4:5–9, 12–16; 7:15–23); 4QDaniele (4Q116; Dan 9:12–17); 6QDaniel (6Q7; Dan 8:16–17?, 20–21?; 10:8–16; 11:33–36, 38). On the Hebrew-Aramaic form, see Anathea E. Portier-Young, “Languages of Identity and Obligation: Daniel as Bilingual Book,” VT 60 (2010): 98–104. The shift back to Hebrew (Dan 8:1) is attested in 4QDana and 4QDanb.

312

Daniel M. Gurtner

works at Qumran, behind the Pentateuch (eighty-two; Gen 15, Exod 17, Lev 13, Num 8, Deut 29), Psalms (thirty-six), and Isaiah (twenty-one), and equal to the Twelve Prophets (with eight).9 All the chapters of Daniel are attested among the Scrolls. The singular citation from Dan 12 (Dan 12:10 in 4Q174 1–3 II, 3–4; “it is written in the book of the prophet Daniel”; ‫כתוב‬ ‫ )בספר דניאל הנביא‬generally resembles that of the MT (rather than the longer Greek tradition), though with numerous variations. In addition, there were seven sets of fragments of other Danielic texts discovered in Cave 4 (Pseudo-Daniel).10 The earliest of the Daniel material (Danielc and Daniele) date to the early Hasmonean period, perhaps as early as the late second century BCE.11

9. James C. VanderKam, Dead Sea Scrolls Today (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1994), 30. 10. These are Prayer of Nabonidus (4Q242), Pseudo-Daniela (4Q243), PseudoDanielb (4Q244), Pseudo-Danielc (4Q245), Aramaic Apocalypse (4Q246), DanielSusanna? (4Q551), Four Kingdomsa, b (4Q552–553). 11. This is strikingly close to the date to which many scholars assign the present shape of the book (ca. 166 BCE). 1QDaniela (1Q71) dates from the late first century BCE or early first century CE. 1QDanielb (1Q72) was also copied in the Hasmonean period. See Dominique Barthélemy and Józef T. Milik, eds., Qumran Cave 1, DJD 1 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1997), 151–52. 4QDaniela (4Q112) dates not later than the middle of the first century BCE and attests to Dan 1–5, 7–8, 10–11. See Eugene Ulrich, “Daniel Manuscripts from Qumran. Part 1: A Preliminary Edition of 4QDana,” BASOR 268 (1987): 17–37. 4QDanielb (4Q113) dates from approximately 20–50 CE. See Barthélemy and Milik, Qumran Cave 1, 173–81, “The Development”; 139, fig. 2, l. 6; 150, “Palaeography,” pl. 10, l. 6; Ulrich, “Daniel Manuscripts from Qumran. Part 2.” Danield (4Q115) is from the late first century BCE (Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4: Psalms to Chronicles). 6Q Daniel (6Q7) was copied later in the Herodian period (the late first century BCE or first half of the first century CE). See Maurice Baillet, Józef T. Milik, and Roland de Vaux, eds., Les “Petites Grottes” de Qumran (Textes), DJD 3 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1997), 114–16. Danielc (4Q114) is written in an early semicursive script dating to the late second century BCE. See Frank Moore Cross, “The Development of the Jewish Scripts,” in The Bible and the Ancient Near East: Essays in Honor of W. F. Albright, ed. G. Ernest Wright (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1961), 149; Eugene Ulrich, “Daniel Manuscripts from Qumran. Part 2: Preliminary Editions of 4QDanb and 4QDanc,” BASOR 274 (1989): 3–26. The highly fragmentary Daniele is written in a large semicursive script and may have only contained a portion of Daniel (e.g., Dan 9:4–19). See Eugene Ulrich, “Daniel, Book of,” EDSS 1:173; 4QDane (4Q116); Ulrich, ed., Qumran Cave 4: Psalms to Chronicles, DJD 16 (Oxford: Clarendon, 2000), 288–89.



Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls 313

The second way in which Perrin observes the burgeoning importance of Danielic traditions is pseudepigraphic materials that emerged around the figure of Daniel. These texts include the Prayer of Nabonidus (4Q242), which reads as a proclamation of Nabonidus, the last king of Babylon (556–539 BCE), and is often thought to have influenced the account of Nebuchadnezzar in Dan 4 or at least to have drawn on a shared tradition.12 The Pseudo-Daniel texts are three Aramaic documents from Qumran (4Q243–245 = Pseudo-Daniela–c) in which Daniel is mentioned but which are not part of the book of Daniel itself. Also like its Danielic counterpart, these texts share a setting in a royal court and an apocalyptic review of history.13 Pseudo-Daniela–b (4Q243–244) comprise two documents of a single composition that together encompass fifty-four fragments (forty and fourteen, respectively) in a Herodian script dating from the late first century BCE. In it Daniel speaks before a king and his courtiers within the setting of a royal court, summarizing history from Noah into the Hellenistic period.14 The narrative canvasses a universal history and the problem of foreign domination. Though once conjectured to belong to that same work, Pseudo-Danielc is really a separate work concerned with the internal affairs of Israel’s history.15 In all, PseudoDanielc is composed of four fragments that date to the early first century BCE, with a date of composition not earlier than the late second century BCE. A major theme of the work is the restoration of the elect, who walk 12. Rudolf Meyer, Das Gebet des Nabonid (Berlin: Akademie, 1962); Frank Moore Cross, “Fragments of the Prayer of Nabonidus,” IEJ 34 (1984): 260–64; John J. Collins, “4Q242: Prayer of Nabonidus,” in Qumran Cave 4: Parabiblical Texts, Part 3, ed. George J. Brooke et al., DJD 22 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1996), 83–93. 13. Amanda Davis Bledsoe, “Daniel, Pseudo-Texts,” ESTJ 1:153. 14. Józef T. Milik, “ ‘Prière de Nabonide’ et autres écrits d’un cycle de Daniel,” RB 63 (1956): 407–15; John J. Collins and Peter W. Flint, “4Q243–245: Pseudo-Daniel,” in Brooke et al., Qumran Cave 4: Parabiblical Texts, Part 3, 95–164. It is from this time period that the work preserves two Hellenistic names, suggesting a date of composition between the early second century BCE and the arrival of Pompey in 63 BCE (Collins and Flint, “4Q243–245: Pseudo-Daniel,” 137–38). 15. Collins and Flint, “4Q243–245: Pseudo-Daniel,” 133. On the theory that frag. 2 shares with Dan 12 a reference to the resurrection (‫)קום‬, see Florentino García Martínez, “The Eschatological Figure of 4Q246,” in Qumran and Apocalyptic: Studies on the Aramaic Texts from Qumran, STDJ 9 (Leiden: Brill, 1992), 146–47. But since Daniel uses a different verb (‫קיץ‬, “awake”), the Qumran text more likely refer to those who arise to walk in the way of truth (Collins and Flint, “4Q243–245: Pseudo-Daniel,” 163). On the unity of Pseudo-Daniel, see Milik, “Prière de Nabonide.”

314

Daniel M. Gurtner

in the way of truth, at the eschaton.16 The Aramaic Apocalypse (4Q246) is a single fragment dating to the late first century BCE, composed perhaps as early as the middle of the second century BCE. Though Daniel is not named in this document, its court setting, eschatological outlook, and mention of the “Son of God” suggest affinity with the biblical book.17 It seems to be an interpretation of a king’s vision by a figure prostrate before the throne, with verbal parallels to Daniel throughout.18 These may suggest the use and adaptation of Dan 7, or else a contemporary work with shared language.19 There is no clear evidence of material related to the Greek Additions to Daniel among the scrolls.20 The final way in which Daniel’s importance at Qumran is evident is what Perrin calls “the spectrum of explicit to implicit uses of Danielic material in ancient Jewish literature.”21 There are no pesharim of Daniel found at Qumran, and explicit uses of Daniel are surprisingly sparse. One such citation is found in 4Q174 (4QFlorilegium), a thematic interpretation of several texts (e.g., Deut 33; 2 Sam 7; Pss 1, 2, 5) as they pertain to 16. Similarly the Animal Apocalypse (1 En. 83–80), Apocalypse of Weeks (1 En. 93.1–10; 91.11–17), the Damascus Document, and Pseudo-Mosese. See John J. Collins, “Daniel, Book of: Pseudo-Daniel,” EDSS 1:176–77. 17. The identity of this figure has eluded scholars, with some suggesting he is Antiochus IV Epiphanes (Puech), Melchizedek or the angel Michael (García Martínez), an obscure messianic figure (Collins), and a heavenly counterpart to the fourth kingdom in Daniel (Segal). See Émile Puech, “4QApocryphe de Daniel ar,” in Brooke et al., Qumran Cave 4: Parabiblical Texts, Part 3, 165–84; Florentino García Martínez, “Eschatological Figure of 4Q246,” 162–79; John J. Collins, “The Background of the ‘Son of God’ Text,” BBR 7 (1997): 51–62; Michael Segal, “Who Is the ‘Son of God’ in 4Q246? An Overlooked Example of Biblical Interpretation,” DSD 21 (2014): 289–312. 18. E.g., 4Q246 II, 6 // Dan 4:3; 7:27; 4Q246 II, 9 // Dan 4:31; 7:14; see 4Q246 II, 3 // Dan 7:7; Collins, “Daniel, Book of: Pseudo-Daniel,” 1:177. 19. Émile Puech, “Fragment d’une apocalypse en araméen (4Q246 = pseudoDand) et le ‘Royaume de Dieu,’ ” RB 99 (1992): 98–131. Additional texts have been posited as bearing Danielic connections. The Four Kingdomsa–b (4Q552–553) fragments mention Babylon as the first of four kingdoms, suggesting to some a Danielic affinity. See Milik, “Prière de Nabonide,” 411–15; Robert H. Eisenman and Michael Wise, The Dead Sea Scrolls Uncovered (New York: Penguin, 1992), 71–74, as 4Q547. 20. Milik contended the Aramaic 4Q551 belonged to the story of Susanna. See Józef T. Milik, “Daniel et Susanne à Qumrân,” in De la Tôrah au Messie: Mélanges Henri Cazelles, ed. Maurice Carrez, Joseph Doré, and Pierre Grelot (Paris: Desclée, 1981), 337–59. This seems at best tentative. See Peter W. Flint, “The Daniel Tradition at Qumran,” in Collins and Flint, Book of Daniel, 2:362. 21. Perrin, “Daniel, Book of.”



Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls 315

the “last days.” The manuscript is composed of twenty-six fragments in early Herodian formal hand dating approximately to the second half of the first century BCE.22 The passage that concerns the present discussion is found in frags. 1–3 column II, where an interpretation of Ps 2:1 (see Isa 8:11; Ezek 37:23) reveals a persecution against the house of Judah until judgment is enacted on the children of Belial (frags. 1–3 II, 1–2). At this time a chosen remnant will be left behind, who will perform the whole law of Moses (frags. 1–3 II, 2), as is predicted “in the book of Daniel the prophet” (‫ ;בספר דניאל הנביא‬4Q174 frags. 1–3 II, 3). The quotation reads: “[“The wicked] will act ever more wicked[ly and shall not understand.] But the righteous will [be purified, clea]nsed, and refined. So, the people who know God shall be steadfast” (]‫להרשי֗ [ע רשעים‬ ‫)צדיקים [ ויתלב]נו ויצטרפו ועם יודעי אלוה יחזיקו‬.23 Such are the men of truth (frags. 1–3 II, 3–4). Together the righteous ones of Dan 12:10 and Dan 11:32 become the community of the elect who suffer persecution at Qumran.24 Daniel is again cited in 11Q13 (11QMelch). In this document, which may date as early as the second century BCE, Daniel is referenced in the second column, in which portions of twenty-five lines of text are preserved.25 Here the figure Melchizedek (‫ ;צדק מלכי‬see Gen 14:18–20; Ps 110:4; Heb 5:6, 10; 6:20; 7:1–17) appears in a tenth jubilee to proclaim liberty and deliver captives (11Q13 II, 2–9), citing Lev 25:13 and Deut 15:2, 22. John Strugnell, “Notes en marge du Volume V des ‘Discoveries in the Judean Desert of Jordan,’ ” RevQ 7 (1969–1970): 177. The most complete reconstruction of the fragments is found in Annette Steudel, Der Midrasch zur Eschatologie aus der Qumrangemeinde (4QMidrEschata,b): Materielle Rekonstruktion, Textbestand, Gattung und Traditionsgeschichtliche Einordnung des durch 4Q174 (“Florilegium”) und 4Q177 (“Catenaa”) repräsentierten Werkes aus den Qumranfunden, STDJ 13 (Leiden: Brill, 1994). 23. Translations of Qumran documents from Michael Wise, Martin Abegg Jr., and Edward Cook, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A New Translation (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1996). 24. Dan 12:10: “Many shall purify themselves, and make themselves white, and be refined; but the wicked shall do wickedly; and none of the wicked shall understand; but those who are wise shall understand.” Dan 11:32: “He shall seduce with flattery those who violate the covenant; but the people who know their God shall stand firm and take action.” Unless otherwise noted, all biblical quotations follow the RSV. These texts are joined with Ps 2 by their common use of ‫שכל‬. See George J. Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran: 4QFlorilegium in Its Jewish Context, JSOTSup 29 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2006), 124. 25. So Émile Puech, who regards the text as a polemic against the Hasmoneans. See Puech, “Notes sur le manuscrits de 11QMelkîsédeq,” RevQ 12 (1987): 483–513.

316

Daniel M. Gurtner

which it interprets (‫ פשרו‬11Q13 II, 4) as the “last days” (‫ )לאחרית הימים‬of Isa 61:1 (11Q13 II, 4). He and his cohort bring judgment on Belial and his minions (11Q13 II, 10–14; see Pss 7:8–9; 82:1, 2). Then (ll. 15–25) comes the “Day of [Salvation]” ([‫ ;יום ה[שלום‬11Q13 II, 15) in which the Isaianic messenger (Isa 52:7) brings good news (II, 15–16). He is identified as “the Anointed of the Spirit” (]‫ )משיח הרֹו[ח‬spoken of by Daniel (‫כאשר אמר‬ ‫)דנֹ[יאל‬. The text cited is from Dan 9:26: “After the sixty-two weeks, an Anointed One shall be cut off ” (‫)עליו עד משיח נגיד שבועים שבעה‬. Most critical scholars identify this with the death of Onias III (ca. 171 BCE; 2 Macc 4:23–28), though his identity in 11Q13 is debated. Some have contended that it is the Teacher of Righteousness himself who is the messenger of good news (11Q13 II, 16), doing so by his insight into the sequence of eschatological events (II, 18–20).26 Regardless, his role is to instruct the Sons of Light in the truth (II, 20–22) and reign in Zion, which is interpreted as the “[congregation of all the sons of righteousness]” (‫[עדת כול בני‬ ]‫ )הצדק‬who uphold the covenant (11Q13 II, 24) and deliver them from the power of Belial (II, 25). Again it is clear that the Danielic text is appropriated in this sectarian context as a means of identifying the congregation as the particular object of eschatological blessings at the coming of the anointed one. It is widely recognized that Danielic influence on the Scrolls by far exceeds explicit citation and appeals to its presumed authoritative status. Daniel seems to have cast a long shadow on some unique facets of the group’s sectarian self-understanding,27 including such fundamental aspects as the maskil, “the many,” and “the time of the end,”28 all of which originate in Daniel and find expression as integral facets of the sectarian group. 26. Józef T. Milik, “Milkî-ṣedeq et Milkî-reša‘ dans les anciens écrits juifs et chrétiens,” JJS 23 (1972): 95–144; Puech, “Notes sur le manuscrits,” 483–513. On Onias, see Collins, Daniel, 356–57. 27. John C. Trever has gone so far as to contend that the group’s formation was a result of Daniel’s failed predictions. See Trevor, “The Book of Daniel and the Origin of the Qumran Community,” BA 48 (1985): 89–102; Trevor, “The Spiritual Odyssey of the Qumran Teacher,” in Society of Biblical Literature 1986 Seminar Papers, SBLSP 25 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986), 384–99. Most scholars rightly regard halakic factors to have played this decisive role. See John J. Collins, “The Origin of the Qumran Community: A Review of the Evidence,” in To Touch the Text: Biblical and Related Studies in Honor of Joseph A. Fitzmyer, S.J., ed. Paul J. Kobelski and Maurya P. Horgan (New York: Crossroad, 1989), 159–78. 28. Ulrich, “Daniel, Book of,” 1:173.



Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls 317

The maskil, who “instruct[s] all the sons of light and teach[es] them the nature of all the children of men” (1QS III, 3), is drawn from Dan 11:33, where the “wise among the people” (‫ )משכילי עם‬instruct the many (‫)רבים‬.29 The maskil (“instructor”) at Qumran is charged with blessing those who fear God (1QSb I, 1–2), the Sons of Zadok, the priests (1QSb III, 22), and the Prince of the Congregation (1QSb V, 20; see 1QS IX, 12, 21).30 Furthermore, in Daniel the maskilim are persecuted by opponents, who shall be joined by many in deceit (‫בחלקלקות‬, Dan 11:34). At Qumran opponents are cast similarly as deceitful teachers who are “Seekers after Smooth Things” (‫ ;דורשי החלקות‬4QpNah; see 4QpIsac [4Q163] 23 II, 10).31 According to John Collins, these terms bear an institutional connotation at Qumran that they do not have in the Danielic texts that inspired them.32 As we have seen before, then, the appropriation of Danielic influence is pressed into service for an institutional function regarding the identity of the sectarians as the people of God. Language from Daniel also influences sectarian conceptions of eschatological warfare.33 Those who violate God’s covenant (‫מרשיעי ברית‬, Dan 11:32) are allies of the Sons of Darkness (1QM I, 2) and the Kittim (Dan 11:30; 1QM I, 2, etc.), for whom there will be no escape (Dan 11:42, 45; 1QM I, 6) in the battle of the Sons of Light against the forces of the Sons of Darkness. Daniel envisages a season of extreme hardship during this battle (Dan 12:1), which the War Scroll claims as the lot of the sectarians, the “Sons of Righteousness,” who are redeemed of God (1QM I, 11–12). Similarly, where Daniel predicts a time when Michael arises with charge over God’s people (Dan 12:1), the War Scroll anticipates God extending his support to “His redeemed” by the authority of Michael (1QM XVII, 7). Finally, Daniel’s prediction of the demise of Israel’s enemies (Dan 11:40–42) is applied to the opponents of the Qumran sectarians, Sons of Darkness (1QM I, 6–7).34 Throughout the texts of Daniel are allocated in

29. 1QS VI; VII; VIII, 19; IX, 2; CD A XIII, 7; XIV, 7, 12; XV, 8; Mertens, Das Buch Daniel, 69–70. 30. His office likely to be identified with that of the “Guardian” (‫)מבקר‬. 31. Maurya P. Horgan, Pesharim: Qumran Interpretations of Biblical Books, CBQMS 8 (Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1979), 173. 32. Collins, Daniel, 73. See also Friedrich Nötscher, Zur theologischen Terminologie der Qumran-Texte, BBB 10 (Bonn: Hanstein, 1956), 56. 33. Collins, Daniel, 73. 34. See further Collins, “Mythology of Holy War.”

318

Daniel M. Gurtner

such a way that the Yaḥad itself is the object of the eschatological work of God in his redemptive activity in Israel. Daniel’s calculation of the duration of exile (Jer 25:11–12; 29:10; see 2 Chr 36:22–23) is “seventy weeks of years” (Dan 9:2, 24–27). This 490year period anticipates the time of the sect’s redemption (see CD A I, 3–13), seen in the Apocryphon of Jeremiah (4Q385a, 4Q387, 4Q388a, 4Q389, 4Q390), and seems to pinpoint the return from exile after the Hasmonean period (see also 4Q181 II, 1–4; 11Q13 II, 6–8).35 The Qumran notion of “mystery” (‫ )רז‬and “interpretation” (‫)פשרא‬ are strikingly similar to Daniel’s language of mysterious dreams (“mystery,” ‫ ;רז‬Dan 2:18, 27, 29, 47; 4:6) and their corresponding interpretations (‫)פשרא‬. In Daniel the mystery initially connotes the ambiguities of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream, but, as Collins observes, the dream itself “is found to disclose an eschatological mystery.”36 At Qumran, then, it denotes mysteries in a broad sense, encompassing God’s workings in cosmological (1QHa I, 11–12) and eschatological (1QM XIV, 14; 1QS XI, 3–4; 1QpHab VII, 8) matters.37 The Qumran pesher (‫ )פשרא‬becomes an interpretation of authoritative texts, developed into a genre of interpreting these texts in light of the Qumran sect’s own present or anticipated days.38 The interpretation itself seems to be a divine revelation, unlocked for the priest to whom God has chosen to reveal it (1QpHab VII, 5).39 At Qumran such “continu35. Perrin, “Daniel, Book of,” 1:150. See Cana Werman, “Epochs and End-Time: The 490-Year Scheme in Second Temple Literature,” DSD 13 (2006): 229–55; Lester L. Grabbe, “The Seventy-Weeks Prophecy (Daniel 9:24–27) in Early Jewish Interpretation,” in The Quest for Context and Meaning: Studies in Biblical Intertextuality in Honor of James A. Sanders, ed. Craig A. Evans and Shemaryahu Talmon, BibInt 28 (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 595–611; Paul J. Kobelski, Melchizedek and Melchirša‘, CBQMS 10 (Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1981), 21; Hanan Eshel, “4Q390, the 490-Year Prophecy, and the Calendrical History of the Second Temple Period,” in Enoch and Qumran Origins: New Light on a Forgotten Connection, ed. Gabriele Boccaccini (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), 102–10. 36. Collins, Daniel, 159. 37. Collins, Daniel, 159. See Raymond E. Brown, The Semitic Background of the Term “Mystery” in the New Testament, FBBS 21 (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1968), 22–30; Mertens, Das Buch Daniel, 124–30. 38. Geza Vermes, “The Qumran Interpretation of Scripture in Its Historical Setting,” ALUOS 6 (1969): 90–91. 39. Customarily this is identified as the “Teacher of Righteousness.” See Liora Goldman, “Pesharim,” ESTJ 2:600–602. On the interpretation as a divine revelation,



Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls 319

ous” pesharim are attested for Habakkuk (1QpHab), Isaiah (4Q161–165), Hosea (4Q166–167), Micah (4Q14), Nahum (4Q169), Zephaniah (1Q15, 4Q170), and Psalms (1Q16, 4Q171, 4Q173).40 However, in each instance it is evident that the Qumran sectarians are the locus of God’s mysterious revelation. The interpretation of these mysteries is the distinct prerogative of the Yaḥad. We have observed that Daniel is well attested among the manuscripts from Qumran, as well as in some unique pseudepigraphic writings that emerged around it. Daniel is explicitly cited in a few instances, where he is called on to support the sectarian notion of the chosen righteous and Isaianic bringer of good news at the day of salvation (11Q13). His concepts influence the role of the maskil, eschatological warfare, redemption from exile, mysteries, and interpretations all within contexts that speak to the group’s identity as an eschatological people. Daniel in Matthew When we turn to Matthew, most scholars consider Danielic influence in the First Gospel with respect to the “son of man” (Dan 7:13; e.g., Matt 24:27, 30, 37, 39, 44; 25:31; 26:64) and the “desolating sacrilege” (Dan 11:31; Matt 24:15). But the evangelist actually draws from a variety of locations in Daniel for use in several eschatological components of his narrative.41 So deeply has the First Evangelist drawn from Daniel’s eschatological conceptions that Craig Evans claims it provides the essential background for Jesus’s proclamation of the kingdom in general.42 Some see Karl Elliger, Studien zum Habakuk Komentar vom Toten Meer (Tübingen: MohrSiebeck, 1953), 155–57. 40. Jean Carmignac, “Le document de Qumrân sur Melkisédeq,” RevQ 7 (1969– 1971): 361. On the “isolated pesher,” see Devorah Dimant, “Pesharim, Qumran,” ABD 5:244–45, treating specific biblical verses placed within another literary genre (e.g., on Isa 40:3 in 1QS VII, 14–15 and on Ezek 44:15 in CD A III, 21–IV, 4). See also Goldman, “Pesharim.” 41. Matthew draws from all over the book of Daniel except Dan 1 and 5. Quotations in Matthew draw from Dan 3, 7, 9, and 11–12. Allusions in Matthew come from Dan 2–4, 6–12. See Adela Yarbro Collins, “The Influence of Daniel on the NT,” in Collins, Daniel, 90–123; Reimar Vetne, “The Influence and Use of Daniel in the Synoptic Gospels” (PhD diss., Andrews University, 2011). 42. Craig A. Evans, “Daniel in the New Testament: Visions of God’s Kingdom,” in Collins and Flint, Book of Daniel, 2:490–527.

320

Daniel M. Gurtner

have specifically argued that Dan 2–7 forms the most likely origin for Matthew’s “kingdom of heaven” language and the “heaven and earth” theme.43 For the present purposes, elucidating Matthew’s citations of and allusions to Daniel, generally drawn from cross-references in critical editions of the First Gospel, illustrates the manner in which the evangelist is influenced by the book of Daniel. Matthew depicts the fate of those who cause sin and evildoers in terms of being cast into a burning fire (Matt 13:41–42, 49–50), utilizing language from Dan 3:6 (LXX) for the fate of violators of Nebuchadnezzar’s edict to worship the golden image. In two places in this pericope (13:42, 50) Matthew draws from Daniel’s text (LXX) to describe what the “son of man” will instruct his angels to do to those who cause sin and all evildoers (Matt 13:41–42, 49–50). Daniel 3:6: ἐμβαλοῦσιν αὐτὸν εἰς τὴν κάμινον τοῦ πυρὸς τὴν καιομένην44 Matthew 13:42: βαλοῦσιν αὐτοὺς εἰς τὴν κάμινον τοῦ πυρός Matthew 13:50: βαλοῦσιν αὐτοὺς εἰς τὴν κάμινον τοῦ πυρός

Collins observes that the Danielic punishment resembles the penalties prescribed in the Hebrew Bible for particular infractions of a sexual nature and the fate of two false prophets (Jer 29:10; see 2 Macc 23:4–8).45 Like at Qumran, the wicked receive their punishment by an act of God. Unlike in the Scrolls, however, there is less emphasis on identifying the wicked as opponents of the righteous per se. Instead, it is sufficient to depict escha-

43. Jonathan T. Pennington, Heaven and Earth in the Gospel of Matthew, NovTSup 126 (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 289; see David Wenham, “The Kingdom of God and Daniel,” ExpTim 98 (1987): 132. 44. MT: ‫בה־שעתא יתרמא לגוא־אתון נורא יקדתא‬. 45. Collins, Daniel, 185. The passage is not addressed in Robert H. Gundry, The Use of the Old Testament in St. Matthew’s Gospel with Special Reference to the Messianic Hope, NovTSup 18 (Leiden: Brill, 1967), and Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016). Nothing is made of it by W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., save that both texts draw from Dan 3:6 (LXX). See Davies and Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 2:430, 443. The infraction of a sexual nature is, notably, the act of prostitution by the daughter of a priest (Lev 21:9) and a particular instance of incest (Lev 20:14; see Gen 38:24).



Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls 321

tological judgment allotted by God through the agency of Matthew’s “son of man,” giving the usage a decidedly christological turn. Matthew’s mention of the “desolating sacrilege … standing in the holy place” (τὸ βδέλυγμα τῆς ἐρημώσεως … ἑστὸς ἐν τόπῳ ἁγίῳ; Matt 24:15) is explicitly attributed to the prophet Daniel (τὸ ῥηθὲν διὰ Δανιὴλ τοῦ προφήτου). Here Matthew draws from three Daniel texts (Dan 9:27; 11:31; 12:11), all of which are presented as a prophecy typically seen to refer to the defilement of the Jerusalem temple by Antiochus IV Epiphanes (167 BCE; see 1 Macc 1:54, 59; 6:7; 2 Macc 6:1–5). Matthew 24:15: τὸ βδέλυγμα τῆς ἐρημώσεως … ἑστὸς ἐν τόπῳ ἁγίῳ Daniel 9:27: ἐπὶ τὸ ἱερὸν βδέλυγμα τῶν ἐρημώσεων ἔσται ἕως συντελείας καὶ συντέλεια δοθήσεται ἐπὶ τὴν ἐρήμωσιν46 Daniel 11:31: καὶ ἀποστήσουσι τὴν θυσίαν καὶ δώσουσι βδέλυγμα ἐρημώσεως47 Daniel 12:11: τὸ βδέλυγμα τῆς ἐρημώσεως ἡμέρας χιλίας διακοσίας ἐνενήκοντα48

The Danielic expression (βδέλυγμα ἐρημώσεως) is used in 1 Macc 1:54 in reference to the defiling structure placed on the altar in Jerusalem, likely a pagan altar circa 167 BCE (Josephus, A.J. 12.253; see 2 Macc 6:5; 1 Macc 4:43).49 Matthew uses LXX Daniel’s (Dan 9:27) suggestion that this is located “on the temple” (ἐπὶ τὸ ἱερὸν) rather than the MT’s “on the wing” (‫)על כנף‬. In the context of Dan 11:31, the erection of the desolating sacrilege is associated with the profaning of the sanctuary and removal of daily offerings (see Dan 8:11). In Matthew’s context it is clearly utilized in an eschatological context, though it variously understood to refer to the destruction of the temple in 70 CE or some still-in-the-future defilement.50 46. MT: ‫“( ועד־כלה ונחרצה תתך על־שמם‬And upon the wing of abominations shall come one who makes desolate, until the decreed end is poured out on the desolator”). 47. MT: ‫“( ונתנו השקוץ משומם‬And they shall set up the abomination that makes desolate”). 48. MT: ‫“( ולתת שקוץ שמם‬and the abomination that makes desolate is set up”). 49. Collins suggests the Danielic ‫( ׁשקוץ ׁשמם‬Dan 9:27; 11:31; 12:11) was a derogatory pun on ‫בעל שמם‬, the Syrian counterpart of Zeus Olympius for whom the Jerusalem temple was allocated by Antiochus IV Epiphanes (2 Macc 6:2; Daniel, 357). 50. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:346. Michael P. Theophilos argues the phrase βδέλυγμα ἐρημώσεως evolves within prophetic contexts in reference to Israel’s covenant infidelity and consequent punishment at the hands of her enemies. See Theophilos, The Abomination of Desolation in Matthew 24.15, LNTS 437 (London: T&T Clark,

322

Daniel M. Gurtner

Regardless, Matthew locates it in the eschatological end (Matt 24:14), which is commensurate with the coming of the “son of man” (24:27), who for Matthew can only be Jesus. In Matthew, then, the association of a Danielic concept is made with the eschatological return of Jesus. In Matt 25, Jesus speaks of the coming of the Son of Man and the separation of the righteous and the wicked to their respective eternal destinies. Whereas the wicked go to eternal punishment, the righteous51 go to eternal life. The language of this reward (Matt 25:46) is drawn verbatim from Dan 12:2. Matthew 25:46: εἰς ζωὴν αἰώνιον Daniel 12:2 LXX: εἰς ζωὴν αἰώνιον Daniel 12:2 MT: ‫לחיי עולם‬

In Daniel’s context this is accompanied by a clear affirmation of individual resurrection from the dead (see Isa 26:19; Jer 51:39, 57; Job 14:12).52 Collins observes that Daniel’s ‫ חיי עולם‬is found only here in Dan 12:2 in all the Hebrew Bible (see 1QS IV, 7; 1 En. 10.10; 15.6).53 In Matthew’s context this explicitly eschatological blessing is associated with the righteous upon the arrival of the “son of man,” which is the subject of our final (and repeated) reference to Daniel in the First Gospel. A final clear reference to Daniel is found in reference to the coming “son of man.” In Daniel, the prophet sees a vision in which “with the clouds of heaven there came one like a son of man, and he came to the Ancient of Days and was presented before him” (Dan 7:13). Matthew sees the son of man bearing authority to forgive sins (Matt 9:6) and heal on the sabbath (12:8). Though he clearly identifies Jesus as the Son of Man, the evangelist nonetheless anticipates some future coming (10:23; 16:27, 28; 24:27, 30, 37, 39, 44; 25:31). Matthew anticipates that the Son of Man will “sit on his glorious throne” in the age to come (Matt 19:28; 25:31; see Dan 7:9). He will appear coming out he clouds of heaven with power 2012), 195. In Matthew, ironically, Israel herself is her own enemy. See also Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 47–50, 148; David L. Turner, Israel’s Last Prophet: Jesus and the Jewish Leaders in Matthew 23 (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015), 215–17. 51. On the righteous in Matthew, see esp. Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation. 52. So also Collins, Daniel, 392. This is likely in view at Matt 27:52, where the bodies of the saints “who had fallen asleep were raised” (πολλὰ σώματα τῶν κεκοιμημένων ἁγίων ἠγέρθησαν). 53. Collins, Daniel, 392.



Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls 323

and great glory (Matt 23:39; 24:30; 26:64) as an eschatological “sign” (τὸ σημεῖον).54 His appearance will be universally recognized, and he will send his angels to gather his elect (24:31). Later still, at his trial, Jesus announces that his accusers will “see the Son of man seated at the right hand of Power, and coming on the clouds of heaven” (Matt 26:64). Moreover, the coming on the clouds, while surely recalling Dan 7, also evokes theophany (Exod 12:31–22; 40:35–38), suggesting that Jesus will be seen in a rather different way than he was presently, namely, when he comes in glory he will be seated on a throne and riding on the clouds (see Matt 23:39; 24:30).55 Finally, at the end of Matthew’s Gospel Jesus seems to lay claim to the authority given to Daniel’s son of man (Matt 28:18; Dan 7:14; see also Matt 9:6). According to James Dunn, the influence of Dan 7:9–14 is most noticeable in the New Testament in the Gospel of Matthew.56 He shows that Matthew’s usage—in particular his three unique allusions (10:23; 25:31; 28:18)—strengthen the evangelist’s tie to the Dan 7 allusion elsewhere in his gospel.57 In short, Matthew seems to deliberately and emphatically identify his presentation of Jesus with the son of man from Dan 7. Allusions to Daniel in Matthew’s Gospel are more difficult to identify, in part because Matthew may well be drawing from a variety of texts from the Hebrew Bible which express similar sentiments. For instance, some may see in the reference to the “holy city” (ἡ ἁγία πόλις, Matt 4:5) an allusion to the “holy city” concerning which Daniel prophesied the end of sin and advent of everlasting righteousness (Dan 9:24). The devil’s imploring Jesus to fall down and worship him (πεσὼν προσκυνήσῃς, Matt 4:9) resembles the threefold command issued by Nebuchadnezzar (Dan 3:5, 10, 15).58 A similar act of prostration occurs at the transfiguration, where the disciples, upon hearing the voice of God, “fell on their faces, and were filled with awe” (ἔπεσαν ἐπὶ πρόσωπον αὐτῶν καὶ ἐφοβήθησαν σφόδρα, Matt 17:6) and were then summoned to their feet by Jesus (17:7). Daniel likewise falls prostrate, 54. The sign in question is variously understood. See Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:359–60. 55. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:530. 56. James D. G. Dunn, “Danielic Son of Man in the New Testament,” in Collins and Flint, Book of Daniel, 2:538. 57. Dunn, “Danielic Son of Man,” 2:538. 58. LXX Dan 3:5 πεσόντες προσκυνήσατε; LXX Dan 3:10: πεσὼν προσκυνήσῃ; LXX Dan 3:15: πεσόντες προσκυνῆσαι.

324

Daniel M. Gurtner

once before the angel Gabriel (ἔπεσα ἐπὶ πρόσωπόν μου, LXX Dan 8:17) and another time at the words of some heavenly figure, who subsequently touches Daniel and exhorts him to courage (Dan 10:9–10). Matthew’s injunction to endure persecution to the end (10:22) may recall the blessing of Daniel pronounced on “he who waits and comes to the thousand three hundred and thirty-five days” (Dan 12:12). Matthew’s rebuke to Chorazin and Bethsaida for not repenting in sackcloth and ashes (11:21) uses that same image for repentance employed by Daniel himself (Dan 9:3). Matthew’s reference to the mustard tree growing to such great size that “the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches” (Matt 13:32) resembles the tree seen in Nebuchadnezzar’s dream, in the branches of which birds of the air dwell (Dan 4:12, 21).59 In his predication that the “righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their father” (Matt 13:43), Matthew distinctly recalls Daniel’s statement about the wise, who will “shine like the brightness of heaven” (LXX Dan 12:3a), while those who turn many to righteousness will shine “like the stars of heaven for ever and ever” (LXX Dan 12:3b).60 Later in Matthew (28:3), it is an angel who will have an appearance like lighting, like the man seen in Daniel’s vision (LXX Dan 10:6).61 Matthew anticipates a time of “great tribulation” (θλῖψις μεγάλη, Matt 24:21), like that expected by Daniel (ἡ ἡμέρα θλίψεως, LXX Dan 12:1), such as has never been seen before (Matt 24:21; LXX Dan 12:1).62 Matthew anticipates that the righteous will go to eternal life (εἰς ζωὴν αἰώνιον, Matt 25:46), drawn verbatim from Dan 12:2 (LXX: εἰς ζωὴν αἰώνιον; MT ‫לחיי‬ ‫)עולם‬. The context in Daniel indicates that this entails resurrection (“those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake”), which is further explicated 59. Matthew 13:32: τὰ πετεινὰ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ καὶ κατασκηνοῦν ἐν τοῖς κλάδοις αὐτοῦ; LXX Dan 4:12: τὰ πετεινὰ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ ἐνόσσευον; LXX Dan 4:21: τὰ πετεινὰ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ τὰ νοσσεύοντα ἐν αὐτῷ. 60. Matthew 13:43: οἱ δίκαιοι ἐκλάμψουσιν ὡς ὁ ἥλιος ἐν τῇ βασιλείᾳ τοῦ πατρὸς αὐτῶν. LXX Dan 12:3a: φανοῦσιν ὡς φωστῆρες τοῦ οὐρανοῦ. LXX Dan 12:3b: ὡσεὶ τὰ ἄστρα τοῦ οὐρανοῦ εἰς τὸν αἰῶνα τοῦ αἰῶνος. MT Dan 12:3: ‫והמשכלים יזהרו כזהר הרקיע‬ ‫ומצדיקי הרבים ככוכבים לעולם ועד‬. 61. Matthew 28:3: ἡ εἰδέα αὐτοῦ ὡς ἀστραπὴ. LXX Dan 10:6: τὸ πρόσωπον αὐτοῦ ὡσεὶ ὅρασις ἀστραπῆς. 62. The language here is strikingly similar: Matt 24:21: οἵα οὐ γέγονεν ἀπ᾽ ἀρχῆς κόσμου ἕως τοῦ νῦν οὐδ᾽ οὐ μὴ γένηται; LXX Dan 12:1: οἵα οὐκ ἐγενήθη ἀφ᾽ οὗ ἐγενήθησαν ἕως τῆς ἡμέρας ἐκείνης; MT Dan 12:1: ‫והיתה עת צרה אשר לא־נהיתה מהיות‬ ‫גוי עד העת ההיא‬.



Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls 325

in Matt 27:52, where the bodies of the saints “who had fallen asleep were raised” (πολλὰ σώματα τῶν κεκοιμημένων ἁγίων ἠγέρθησαν). Although Daniel is not the most influential from the Hebrew Bible on Matthew, it plays a decisive role in key eschatological facets of the First Gospel. The judgment on the wicked (Matt 13:42, 50; Dan 3:6) and the deliverance of the righteous unto eternal life (Matt 25:46; Dan 12:2) are cast in Danielic terms (see Matt 13:43; Dan 12:3). So are Matthew’s anticipation of “desolating sacrilege” (Matt 24:15; see Dan 9:27; 11:31; 12:11) and “great tribulation” (Matt 24:21; LXX Dan 12:1). Matthew clearly identifies the Danielic son of man (Dan 7:13) with Jesus, who will “sit on his glorious throne” in the age to come (Matt 19:28; 25:31; see Matt 26:64) and come “on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory” (Matt 24:30) to gather his elect (24:31). Matthew’s Jesus seems to lay claim to the authority given to Daniel’s Son of Man (Matt 28:18; Dan 7:14), and his death precedes the eschatological resurrection anticipated in Daniel (12:2; Matt 27:52). Comparative Observations Our analysis reveals a number of interesting points of comparison between the influence Daniel has on the Dead Sea Scrolls and on the Gospel of Matthew. Both draw on Daniel’s apocalyptic eschatology to shape and inform their own respective eschatological outlooks. At Qumran Daniel is utilized to support the community’s claim to be the chosen righteous of God, in which they are the beneficiaries of eschatological redemption. Their leadership is in part identified in Danielic terms, and they are unique recipients and interpreters of God’s eschatological mysteries. Their opponents and persecutors are God’s opponents and will experience God’s righteous judgment. In Matthew, Daniel has less a role in explicitly identifying who are the beneficiaries of eschatological blessings and who are not than in depicting their respective fates. Whereas Daniel informs the Yaḥad’s eschatological warfare, Matthew’s eschatological judgment is the task of the Danielic son of man. Furthermore, Matthew uses Daniel’s tribulations and desolating sacrilege for his own conception of the eschatological future, where the son of man features prominently. But Daniel’s son of man has almost no place at Qumran.63 In the Scrolls, the “son of man” language (‫ )בן אדם‬is used of a human being, such 63. See Collins, Daniel, 79.

326

Daniel M. Gurtner

as in the sapiential fragment from 4Q184 4.4 and the fragmentary Apocryphon of Elijah (4Q382 40 1), or in reference to exposition from Ezek 37 (4Q385 2 5; 3 2–3; 12 4; 4Q386 1 I, 4; 1 II, 2; ‎4Q388 7 7). The lone occurrence of ‫ בר אנוש‬in the Scrolls is from the Genesis Apocryphon (1Q20 21 13), for the general “no one” who will be able to count the descendants of Abraham (‫)לא ישכח כול בר אנוש לממניה‬. At Qumran Daniel’s maskil, which has no place in Matthew, is more formative than his son of man. Another facet of Daniel (12:2) found in Matthew (27:52) but sparse at Qumran is resurrection.64 When Qumran’s notion of everlasting life (1QS IV, 7–8) is expressed in resurrection, it appears in terms of Isaiah (‫המחיה את מתי עמו‬ ‫ ;יקי]ם‬see Messianic Apocalypse, 4Q521) or Ezekiel (Pseudo-Ezekiela, 4Q385).65 The former text, from Isa 61:1, anticipates that the Lord will “revive the dead” (‫ ;ומתים יחיה‬4Q521 2 II, 12); for those who have done good before they Lord, they are destined to die, but “the Reviver [rai]ses the dead of His people” (4Q521 5 II, 4–6). In the latter, the prophecy of Ezek 37:4–10 is said to be fulfilled, “and a great many people [revi]ved” (‫ֹוי ֹ[ח]י֗ ֹו עם רב אנשים‬, 4Q385 2 8). Furthermore, two texts from 1QHa (XI, 19–23; XIX, 10–14) speak of God raising the author from death, but it is debated whether this is anticipation of eschatological resurrection or a euphemism for the blessings acquired in joining the Yaḥad.66

64. While Émile Puech argued for extensive evidence of resurrection among the scrolls, his thesis has been widely critiqued. See Puech, La croyance des Esséniens en la vie future: Immortalité, résurrection, vie éternelle?, 2 vols., EBib 21–22 (Paris: Gabalda, 1993). See especially John J. Collins, Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls (London: Routledge, 1997), 111–28. Daniel 12:2 is also in portions of 1 Enoch, which is likewise attested at Qumran. The Book of Watchers (1 En. 1–36) seems to presume a bodily presence of those who had died (1 En. 25.4–6; see Isa 66:14; 1 En. 26.4–27.4). The Animal Apocalypse of 1 Enoch (chs. 85–90) identifies the resurrected from the dead among the returnees from dispersion (1 En. 90.26–33). See also 1 En. 102.4–104.8 and the Book of Parables (1 En. 37–71), esp. 1 En. 51.1–5, 61.5. 65. See Collins, Daniel, 74; John F. Hobbins, “Resurrection in the Daniel Tradition and Other Writings at Qumran,” in Collins and Flint, Book of Daniel, 395–420; James D. Tabor and Michael O. Wise, “4Q521 ‘On Resurrection’ and the Synoptic Gospel Tradition: A Preliminary Study,” JSP 10 (1992): 149–62. 66. On the former, see Puech, La croyance des Esséniens, 366–81. On the latter, see Heinz-Wolfgang Kuhn, Enderwartung und gegenwärtiges Heil: Studien zur Umwelt des Neuen Testaments, SUNT 4 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1966), 44–88; George W. E. Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life in Intertestamental Judaism, HTS 26 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972), 152–56.



Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls 327

It is instructive to observe the influence Daniel exerted on the Scrolls and the Gospel of Matthew. The data surveyed above indicates a mutual reliance on apocalyptic eschatological features of Daniel that find expression in distinct ways in their respective traditions. At Qumran the decidedly sectarian nature of select texts is bolstered by Danielic citations and allusions that cumulatively bring the Yaḥad to the forefront in terms of their identity as the eschatological people of God and the ones whom God’s eschatological promises are for. In Matthew, however, the righteous and wicked—as well as their respective fates—are defined in Danielic terms, but only through their identification with or against Matthew’s conception of the Danielic son of man, identified as Jesus. The former is communal and sectarian in nature, whereas the latter, while bearing communal and sectarian implications, is primarily christological in outlook. The implications of these findings for the present volume are relatively clear. At least with respect to the utilization of Danielic texts, the author of the Gospel of Matthew is no more outside Judaism than the sectarian authors from Qumran. Both Matthew and the Scrolls can draw from the same book of Daniel for their own respective purposes. Matthew’s conception of the Judaism he finds in Daniel sees Jesus as its climactic, even defining figure. But the Matthean Jesus is not a break from Danielic Judaism, somehow creating something that is at odds with what is espoused in Daniel. Rather, Jesus in the First Gospel is identified in Danielic terms, and Daniel to a large extent shapes the Matthean portrait of Jesus and the eschatological matrix of his parousia. While scholars such as Matthias Konradt in the present volume would suggest a reading such as this belongs to a new perspective on Matthew within Judaism, there is at least equally or perhaps more room for advocating something different but complementary. Specifically, advances in the study of Second Temple Judaism in recent decades illustrate the diversity of what could be generally called “Judaism” in first-century Roman Judea/Palestine. The sectarian nature of select Qumran scrolls, the pro-Hasmonean bias of the first two books of Maccabees, and the suggestion that a distinct Enochic Judaism existed in antiquity suffice to illustrate the diverse nature of what may be broadly called “Judaism” in emerging scholarly discourse. In this respect the tensions about Matthew within or outside Judaism may be alleviated by an adequately nuanced, historically conditioned notion of what constitutes the Judaism into which we are seeking to place Matthew. Interpreters must allow for a pluriformity of Judaism that can accommo-

328

Daniel M. Gurtner

date the evidence of Danielic influence at the intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Life after Death? The Question of Immediate Life after Death in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Gospel of Matthew David C. Sim

Scholarly discussion of what happens to the dead in ancient Judaism and early Christianity is largely dominated by one paradigm. That model is the concept of bodily resurrection at the end of the age. According to this theme, the dead lie lifeless in the ground until their bodies are restored to life in order to face the final and universal judgment. The righteous will be rewarded with eternal life and blessings, while the wicked will be punished for eternity, which often meant everlasting torment in a pit of fire. There is no doubt that this theme of life, followed by a period of death and lifelessness, before the restoration to life with the resurrection of the body, was a common theme in the Jewish and Christian texts that were composed during the time of the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Gospel of Matthew.1 Yet it was not the only manner by which to envisage the fate of the departed. We find in both Second Temple Judaism and early Christianity a wide range of schemas that speculated on this theme, and a number of these held that the dead would experience some form of existence immediately after death. Sometimes this concept was married to the notion of a bodily resurrection as well, while in other cases it was not. The reality is that ancient Jewish and Christian views about the fate of the 1. Some scholars have argued that this is the only scheme that we find in the biblical texts. See Oscar Cullmann, “Immortality of the Soul or Resurrection of the Dead: The Witness of the New Testament,” in Immortality and Resurrection: Death in the Western World; Two Conflicting Currents of Thought, ed. Krister Stendahl (New York: Macmillan, 1965), 9–53; Samuel Bacchiocchi, Immortality or Resurrection? A Biblical Study on Human Nature and Destiny (Berrien Springs, MI: Biblical Perspectives, 2001).

-329-

330

David C. Sim

dead were inherently complex and variegated.2 Yet, despite the wealth of textual and inscriptional evidence that confirms that many Jews and Christians envisaged immediate life after death, sometimes in concert with the idea of a later bodily resurrection and sometimes not, modern scholarship generally continues to champion the paradigm of a postmortem nonexistence until the body is restored to life as the overriding and most important belief about the dead in Jewish and Christian circles. It seems probable that the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, perhaps the most definitive claim of the early Christians, has played some part in the scholarly preoccupation with bodily resurrection in the ancient Jewish and Christian traditions. In this study I wish to examine the afterlife beliefs of two very different Jewish traditions. The first of these is the Qumran community, whose views on the fate of the dead can be reconstructed from the vast library of materials in the Dead Sea Scrolls. I will argue that the Qumran covenanters accepted a schema by which the departed exist immediately after death and enjoy fellowship with the holy angels. This sectarian Jewish community seemed not to follow the view that the dead would be raised to life at the end of the current age. If they did accept in some form the idea of the end-time bodily resurrection, then it played a very minor role in their eschatological outlook. The second tradition is found in the Christian Jewish Gospel of Matthew. An examination of the gospel’s texts reveals that the evangelist and his community held almost the opposite view of that which prevailed at Qumran. Matthew clearly accepts without question the notion of physical resurrection as a prelude to the final and universal judgment, and there are brief and tantalizing hints in certain passages that suggest that he also believed that the dead have an immediate afterlife before the general resurrection of the dead.

2. See, for example, Hans C. C. Cavallin, An Inquiry into the Jewish Background. Part 1 of Life after Death: Paul’s Argument for the Resurrection of the Dead in 1 Cor 15 (Lund: Gleerup, 1974); Nickelsberg, Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life; N. T. Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003); Claudia Setzer, Resurrection of the Body in Early Judaism and Early Christianity: Doctrine, Community and Self-Definition (Leiden: Brill, 2004); Casey D. Elledge, Life after Death in Early Judaism: The Evidence of Josephus, WUNT 2/208 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006).



Life after Death? 331

Immediate Life after Death in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity As noted above, when most scholars think of postmortem existence in ancient Judaism and early Christianity, they inevitably conceive of it in terms of the eschatological resurrection of the body, which happens at the end of the age as a necessary prelude to the universal judgment. On this scheme, the dead lie lifeless in the ground until their bodies are restored to life in the eschatological era. We find this notion of future postmortem existence very clearly and for the first time in the book of Daniel (12:1–3),3 and it is found in many Jewish texts that were written either soon after the composition of Daniel or in the following centuries (see 2 Macc 7:1– 42; 12:43–44; Apoc. Mos. 13.3–4; 41.2–3; Pss. Sol. 3.11–12; 1 En. 51.1–4; 62.15–16; 91.9–10; 108.11–15; Sib. Or. 4.179–192; 4 Ezra 7.32, 37; 2 Bar. 30.1–2, 42.8; 50.1–3; 51.1–6; T. Jud. 25.4; T. Benj. 10.6–8). But the resurrection of the body prior to the judgment was not the only schema that was operational in ancient Judaism. There was at least one other view that stipulated that the dead, or perhaps the soul or spirit of the dead, would continue to live in some form immediately after an individual’s earthly demise. It does not matter for our purposes whether this view involves some acceptance of Greek ideas or was a development of an earlier Jewish view; we are just interested in the schema itself rather than its origin. An excellent example of this concept is found in the Wisdom of Solomon. In 3:1–4 we find the view that the souls of the departed are now at peace in the hands of God. In this text there is no indication at all of a future bodily resurrection, and all emphasis falls on the immediate fate of the deceased.4 Other texts speak of the righteous dead receiving their rewards after death and/or of the wicked being punished for their sins at that time (see 1 En. 22.1–14; 103.3–8; 4 Ezra 7.75, 78–80, 88, 95; 4 Macc 3:18; 6:7; 10:4; 13:13–17). It should be noted that these two schemas are not necessarily incompatible. Some Jewish texts contain both notions without ever relating them to each other and without any hint that they were incompatible or 3. For discussion of the resurrection concept in this text, see John J. Collins, Daniel, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1994), 390–98; see too Wright, Resurrection of the Son, 109–15; Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality and Eternal Life, 11–27. 4. See Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality and Eternal Life, 87–90; David Winston, The Wisdom of Solomon: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, AB 43 (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1979), 125–27.

332

David C. Sim

contradictory. The apocalypses containing heavenly journeys often refer to a place where the dead now receive rewards or punishments, and yet there is still mention of a future resurrection and universal judgment. When these two ideas are found together, we have the concept of the intermediate state, a form of existence immediately after death with the full complement of eternal blessings or punishment to follow after the final judgment. Yet, on the other side of the coin, some Jewish thinkers did find these themes absolutely incompatible. Philo, for example, who was heavily influenced by Greek philosophy, largely accepted the Platonic idea of the immortal soul (QG 3.11) and completely allegorized the notion of bodily resurrection.5 In the early Christian tradition, we find much the same situation of diversity, though of course there is perhaps more emphasis on the concept of the future resurrection of the body because of the central part the resurrection of Jesus played in the initial Christian proclamation. The notion that the dead lie lifeless awaiting the future resurrection is strongly represented by Paul and is perhaps most clearly expressed in 1 Thess 4:13–18. Here Paul offers comfort to his readers by assuring them that their deceased loved ones will indeed receive their due reward. Just as Jesus died and rose again, so too will God bring with him those who have fallen asleep (v. 14). In offering these words of comfort to the Thessalonians, Paul strongly suggests that the dead currently have no life at all until they are resurrected.6 Had he accepted the notion of the intermediate state, where the souls or spirits of the Christian dead now enjoy to some extent their rewards in paradise, then presumably he would have said so, and that would have given the Thessalonians the reassurance they sought.7 But some early Christians also promoted, in addition to the future resurrection of the body, an intermediate existence between death and the judgment. We find this most clearly in the Gospel of Luke. In Luke 23:43 the criminal who is crucified with Jesus asks Jesus to remember him when he comes into his kingdom, and Jesus reassures him that today (σήμερον) he will be with Jesus in paradise. Most scholars accept the literal meaning of these words and maintain that in Luke’s schema both Jesus and the

5. See Alan F. Segal, Life after Death: A History of the Afterlife in Western Religion (New York: Doubleday, 2004), 398–405. 6. Wright, Resurrection of the Son, 215–19. 7. In agreement with Bacchiocchi, Immortality or Resurrection?, 144.



Life after Death? 333

penitent thief will experience immediate post-mortem existence.8 Such a scenario of continuing life after mortal death also underpins the Lukan parable of Lazarus and the rich man in Luke 16:19–31. In this unparalleled text, the poor beggar Lazarus dies and goes immediately to heaven and resides with Abraham, while the rich man dies and is taken straight to Hades, where he is tormented mercilessly. The schema concerning the fate of the dead is precisely the same as in 23:43. Those who have died are given immediate rewards or punishments.9 Having very briefly laid the groundwork, we now turn attention to the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Gospel of Matthew. What views about the afterlife do we find in these texts? Immediate Life after Death in the Dead Sea Scrolls The first thing to be said about this theme in the Dead Sea Scrolls is that there is no conclusive evidence that the community that produced and/or preserved these documents accepted the common notion of the future resurrection of the body. When mentioning the Essenes, Josephus describes their eschatological doctrines with no reference at all to the notion of bodily resurrection. On the contrary, he remarks that they accepted the immortality of the soul and believed that the righteous dead exist in paradise, while their wicked counterparts are consigned to a pit and tormented forever (B.J. 2.154–156). Although it is doubtless true that Josephus has used Greek ideas and language for the benefit of his intended readers, the Scrolls themselves bear witness to the general accuracy of his description that the Qumran community believed in an afterlife, but not one that envisaged a general resurrection of the dead as a prelude to the judgment. It is well known that in the mass of sectarian documents created by the community itself one is hard-pressed to find a clear and unambiguous reference to bodily resurrection. In his monumental two-volume work on resurrection and immortality in the Scrolls, Émile Puech mounts a case that the eschatological resurrection of the dead was accepted at Qumran, 8. Joseph Osei-Bonsu, “The Intermediate State in the New Testament,” SJT 44 (1991), 175–77; Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke, NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), 822–23; Outi Lehtipuu, The Afterlife Imagery in Luke’s Story of the Rich Man and Lazarus, NovTSup 123 (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 254–55. 9. Lehtipuu, Afterlife Imagery, 4–8, 265–94, 299–300; Osei-Bonsu, “Intermediate State,” 173–75.

334

David C. Sim

and his arguments can be summarized quickly. First, Puech argues that since the Qumran library contained many copies of the book of Daniel, the community that collected these texts must have adopted Daniel’s notion of a future resurrection.10 But such an argument is by no means conclusive or even necessary. If it were the Danielic concept of bodily resurrection that especially appealed to the covenanters, then we would expect to find it expressed definitively and constantly throughout the documents produced by this community. This is simply not the case.11 Second, Puech does maintain that certain texts do convey such an idea (1QHa VII, 17–25; XI, 19–23; XIV, 29–35; IX, 10–23; 4Q245; 4Q415–418; 4Q521; 4Q385– 388; 4Q391; 4Q521; 4Q542; 4Q543–548), but his arguments have been called into question on the grounds that the purported meaning is not unambiguous, and the texts in question can be read in alternative and more plausible ways.12 It is difficult to disagree with the conclusion of John Collins on this issue. Collins maintains that while we cannot say definitively that the future resurrection of the dead played no part in the eschatology of the Qumran community, there is no pressing evidence to say that it did.13 In the light of this conclusion, can we determine what this sectarian Jewish community did believe in terms of an individual’s destiny after death? If we focus on the major writings created by this group, it becomes clear that its members held the view that in the event of death an individual would immediately receive their due rewards (or punishments). This 10. Émile Puech, La croyance des esséniens en la vie future: Immortalité, résurrection, vie éternelle?; histoire d’une croyance dans les judaïsme ancient, EBib 21–22 (Paris: Gabalda, 1993), 2:83–84. 11. So correctly Philip. R. Davies, “Death, Resurrection, and Life after Death in the Qumran Scrolls,” in Death, Resurrection and the World-to-Come in the Judaisms of Antiquity, part 4 of Judaism in Late Antiquity, ed. Alan J. Avery-Peck and Jacob Neusner, HOS 1 (Leiden: Brill, 2000), 209. 12. Puech, La croyance des esséniens, 2:334–419, 537–41, 568–70, 605–16; John J. Collins, Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls (London: Routledge, 1997), 115–29; Alex Deasley, The Shape of Qumran Theology (Carlisle, UK: Paternoster, 2000), 298– 302. 13. Collins, Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls, 129. This a better method for interpreting the evidence than the alternative proposed by Elledge, who claims that the Qumran community perhaps did accept the notion of bodily resurrection because there is no definitive and polemical rejection of that idea in the Scrolls (Life after Death, 26). Such an argument from silence carries little weight.



Life after Death? 335

is the inevitable corollary of the widely accepted idea that the Qumran community entertained the notion that its members even now enjoyed fellowship with the heavenly angels and thus were already experiencing their eschatological reward. In 1QS XI, 5–8 the claim is made that the righteous covenanters have inherited the lot of the holy ones (the angels), and God has already joined their assembly to the sons of heaven. In verse 8 we read; “He [God] unites their assembly to the sons of the heavens in order (to form) the counsel of the Community, and a foundation of the building of holiness to be an everlasting plantation throughout all future ages.”14 Similar ideas that the members of the community even in this world experience the eschatological angelic state are further expressed in a number of the Thanksgiving Hymns (1QHa XI, 19–23; XIV, 12–13; XIX, 10–14).15 There seems to be a clear concept of realized eschatology contained within this notion. The members of the community, even before their physical deaths, now enjoyed the benefits of their fellowship with the angels. Death would not interrupt this intimate bond but would further cement the relationship between the community member and the angels of heaven.16 In other words, the Qumran community envisaged an immediate existence beyond death where the righteous member would continue to receive blessings and eternal life in the company of the heavenly angels. Of course, the sectarians still expected eschatological events in the future—end-time woes, the coming of the messiahs, the final cosmic battle between the forces of good and evil (as attested in the War Scroll), and a judgment that finally saw the permanent defeat and punishment of evildoers and eternal peace and blessing for the righteous. But this was to be experienced by the present generation or perhaps future generations. Those who had died before the end could even now participate in the heavenly world and enjoy their exalted status in the company of the angels. We see here a rather surprising agreement, in general terms if not specifics, between the Alexandrian Jew Philo and the sectarian and seemingly insular Jewish sect responsible for the Scrolls. 14. Translation from Florentino García Martínez, The Dead Sea Scrolls Translated: The Qumran Texts in English (Leiden: Brill 1994), 18. For discussion of this passage, see Maxwell J. Davidson, Angels at Qumran: A Comparative Study of 1 Enoch 1–36, 72–108 and Sectarian Writings from Qumran, JSPSup 11 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1992), 166–70. 15. Collins, Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls, 119–23. 16. Collins, Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls, 118, 123.

336

David C. Sim

Immediate Life after Death in Matthew? I want now to examine the Gospel of Matthew. Where does this evangelist fit within the various schemes, Jewish and Christian, that outlined the immediate fate of an individual after death? Does he follow the view of Daniel and Paul that the dead lie lifeless and inactive until the general resurrection of the dead and the final judgment? Or does he agree with Luke, that is, that the dead will experience rewards or punishment immediately after death as well as a bodily resurrection prior to the final judgment? In response to these questions, it is best to start with what we know for certain and then turn to other issues that are more debatable. For those of us who have studied Matthew’s eschatology, there is little doubt that the evangelist’s overriding postmortem idea is that of the general resurrection of the dead. At the end of the age, when Jesus returns, the bodies of the dead will be raised to life to face the final and universal judgment (see 12:41–42; 22:30), and following this event the righteous will receive everlasting eschatological rewards and blessings, while the wicked will be punished by eternal fire (see 25:31–46).17 But does Matthew, like other Jews and Christians of the time, envisage some sort of intermediate state where those who had died would receive a taste of their eternal fate prior to the general bodily resurrection of the dead? Most Matthean scholars, it has to be admitted, do not even ask this question, and in my three-hundred-page book on Matthew’s apocalyptic eschatology I devoted a couple of sentences and two footnotes to this theme!18 Other scholars have also acknowledged the issue in passing, but they seem to accept that Matthew adopts the Danielic view that death is followed by lifelessness and inactivity until the day of resurrection. Yet, there are some scholars who have argued that Matthew, while embracing the notion of the eschatological idea of the general resurrection from the dead, also accepted the concept of immediate life after death. Given that these views need not be incompatible, and that the notion of some form of existence between physical death and the future resurrection was widespread in both the Jewish and Christian traditions, such a view cannot be discounted out of hand and requires exploration in terms of Matthew. A 17. For full discussion of these themes and the relevant texts, see David C. Sim, Apocalyptic Eschatology in the Gospel of Matthew, SNTSMS 88 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 110–47. 18. Sim, Apocalyptic Eschatology, 129 nn. 1–2.



Life after Death? 337

number of Matthean passages have been presented as evidence that the evangelist entertained the idea of life between the death of the individual and their bodily resurrection prior to the judgment. There are three texts in particular which are of most importance. Perhaps the most cited text is Matt 10:28. Here the Matthean Jesus advises the disciples; “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul [ψυχή]; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna.” The Q parallel in Luke 12:4–5 is rather different and does not contain the dualistic body/soul schema. Most scholars agree that Matthew has largely preserved the wording of the Q original.19 But even if this is so, the fact that the evangelist copied this Q logion means he must have accepted its inherent ideas or at least was not opposed to them. While this saying (and the immediate context) is first and foremost concerned with encouraging the church in the face of persecution,20 its language and imagery inevitably raise the issue of what happens to a person after death. So what idea about the afterlife does this saying convey? Many scholars, it must be said, do not directly address this particular issue; they prefer to focus on other matters that are also pertinent to this text. Yet an examination of this theme reveals interesting results. Certainly, a literal reading of the first part of the logion can easily suggest the dualistic notion that humans contain both a body and a soul and that when an individual physically dies the nonphysical soul continues to live. The second section seemingly refers to the postjudgment situation in Gehenna where the disembodied soul is rejoined to the resurrected body, and both can be punished and even destroyed by God. If this reading of the text is appropriate, then it could well be argued that the evangelist accepted that following the death of the body the soul would disengage from it and still exist in some form before being rejoined to the body at the eschaton. There seems to be the notion here of an intermediate state of existence between

19. So W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 2:205–6; Ulrich Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007), 2:98; Robert H. Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Handbook for a Mixed Church under Persecution, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1994), 196–97; Donald A. Hagner, Matthew, WBC 33 (Dallas: Word, 1993–1995), 1:284. 20. So Luz, Matthew, 2:102; Eduard Schweizer, The Good News according to Matthew (London: SPCK, 1978), 248.

338

David C. Sim

death and the general resurrection of the body, even if the nature of that interim existence is not clearly articulated.21 It would appear, on the basis of the above discussion of Matt 10:28, that a case can be made for Matthew accepting the tradition there was some form of life immediately after death. This is not beyond question, however, because the evangelist has seemingly reproduced a text from Q, and it could be maintained that he was not completely aware of the implications of the material he was copying. It is necessary, therefore, to examine the other texts that have been appealed to as evidence that Matthew accepted that life continued immediately after death. Let us now consider these Matthean passages. In Matt 22:23–33 (// Mark 12:18–27) Jesus debates the concept of bodily resurrection with the Sadducees. As a part of his argument to counter their ploy, he quotes Exod 3:6, “I am [ἐγώ εἰμι] … the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob,” and then makes the point that God is not the God of the dead but the God of the living (22:32). What does this particular statement mean in the context of Matthew’s views about the fate of the dead? Does it mean that Matthew viewed the three patriarchs as currently alive in some form rather than lifeless? Dale Allison has recently maintained that for Matthew this statement “may well imply that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, are still alive,” and this interpretation finds some support within Matthean scholarship.22 Allison’s view comes as no surprise. He defended such a position in his earlier commentary on this gospel (with W. D. Davies) and put forward two major arguments. We shall take these in turn. First, Allison notes the insertion by Matthew of εἰμι into this text; it is absent from the Markan parallel in Mark 12:26. The introduced emphasis on the present tense here suggests that since God is the God of the patriarchs, these figures must still be alive in some form despite their physical 21. For this general view, see Osei-Bonsu, “Intermediate State,” 171–73; Davies and Allison, Matthew, 2:206–7. See too R. T. France, The Gospel of Matthew, NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 399, 403. 22. Dale C. Allison Jr., “The Scriptural Background of a Matthean Legend: Ezekiel 37, Zechariah 14, and Matthew 27,” in Life beyond Death in Matthew’s Gospel: Religious Metaphor or Bodily Reality?, ed. Wim Weren, Huub van de Sandt, and Joseph Verheyden, BTS 13 (Leuven: Peeters, 2011), 181. For support for this interpretation, see, e.g., Hagner, Matthew, 2:641–42; France, Matthew, 840–41; Warren Carter, Matthew and the Margins: A Socio-political and Religious Reading (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2000), 443.



Life after Death? 339

demise.23 The second argument involves the citation of certain Jewish texts that state either explicitly or implicitly that the patriarchs are currently alive in the care of God (e.g., Apos. Con. 8.41.2–5; 4 Macc 7:19; 13:17; 16:25; Philo, Sacr. 1.5; T. Isaac 2.1–5).24 If these arguments are correct, then one has little option but to concur with Allison that Matthew clearly accepted the continued existence of these patriarchs after their deaths. But it is not so certain that they are as definitive as Allison contends. Matthew’s insertion of εἰμί into the quotation from Exod 3:6 conforms the text to the LXX and may have no more significance than that. It is dubious to build a case about the eschatological (or any) beliefs of any of the evangelists on the basis of a single inserted word, especially when the author in question was conforming the Markan version to its LXX counterpart. As for the texts that imply or state that the patriarchs now enjoy life in the company of God and the angels, they may or not be relevant. If we knew on other grounds that Matthew readily accepted the idea of continuing existence after death, then these texts would support the claim that Matthew was following a common Jewish notion. But since this is not completely clear from Matt 10:28, it is quite possible that Matthew had a quite different interpretation of the claim by the Matthean Jesus that God is the God of the living and not the dead. There are, it must be said, a number of indications that tell against this interpretation, and these need to be considered. One important factor in this respect is the immediate context of this verse. The immediate context is the debate about the validity of the notion of the future bodily resurrection of the dead, which the Sadducees deny. The theme of an intermediate state or postmortem existence is not really at issue. The Sadducees try to ridicule the very idea by citing the hypothetical case of a women who, by virtue of the Mosaic Levitical marriage laws, marries in turn seven brothers. They ask that, given she has been the wife to all seven brothers, whose wife she will be once they are all raised from the dead. Jesus understands that their question concerns not the principle of postmortem existence but only the idea of bodily resurrection, and his response remains firmly on that particular subject. He first of all tells the Sadducees that they are wrong since they know neither the Scriptures nor the power of God. When the righteous are raised from the dead in the future, they will have no

23. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:231. 24. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:232.

340

David C. Sim

marital (or even sexual) status but will be like angels in heaven. Then Jesus states that the notion of the resurrection of the dead can be gleaned from the Scriptures, and this leads to the quote from Exod 3:6 and the further claim that God is the God of the living and not the dead. The context and the line of argument demand that the quotation and the accompanying statement prove the reality of bodily resurrection at the end of the age and not the concept of continuing existence after death. If Matthew is making the point that the patriarchs are alive now, then he has veered into a very different subject area. This is possible but not likely. A further and related problem presents itself. If Matthew’s Jesus is making the specific point that the patriarchs are now alive in the heavenly realms with God, then he has unwittingly played into the hands of Jesus’s Sadducean opponents. They could immediately retort that there is no need for an eschatological raising from the dead if indeed the patriarchs continued to exist after death and now enjoy a blessed existence. One could perhaps dilute the strength of this argument by claiming that what is meant is that the patriarchs are alive now because they have already been resurrected.25 While this interpretation has the advantage of being consistent with the immediate context of this verse, which concerns the general and physical resurrection of the dead, it runs into serious difficulties. Of importance here is the material Matthew added to the Markan account concerning the signs that accompany the death of Jesus (Matt 27:51b–53). In Mark, when Jesus draws his final breath, the curtain of the temple is torn in two (Mark 15:38). Matthew retains this motif, but he considerably expands on it. The tearing of the curtain is followed by a massive earthquake that splits the rocks. This in turn opens the tombs, and the bodies of the (Jewish) saints are raised. But they venture out of their tombs and appear publicly only after Jesus has been raised some days later. The evangelist makes clear in this addition that the righteous dead in Jerusalem are reanimated only when Jesus dies. In other words, it is the death and anticipated resurrection of Jesus that engineers this raising of some of the holy ones. There is an integral link between Jesus himself and the idea of the righteous dead being brought back to life. But if that is the case, then it causes problems for the claim that Matthew accepted that the three patriarchs had been raised from the dead many hundreds of years

25. So Daniel J. Harrington, The Gospel of Matthew, SP 1 (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1991), 313–14.



Life after Death? 341

earlier. Their resurrections would have been accomplished independently of any connection to Jesus, and this tends to dilute the connection the evangelist makes in this passage to link Jesus to the resurrection of the righteous. Moreover, the view that the patriarchs had been raised from the dead before the time of Jesus raises an awkward question. What makes the resurrection of Jesus so special if Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had previously been raised to life by God? So how did Matthew intend 22:32 to be understood? Since the debate is about the future and general resurrection of the dead, the claim that God is the God of the living in relation to the patriarchs must be interpreted within that particular context. The most plausible answer is that the Matthean Jesus is making the point that God is the God of the living insofar as he has the power at the end of the age to raise the now-dead patriarchs to eternal life. The Sadducees fail to read accurately Exod 3:6 because they misunderstand the power of God to raise dead bodies to life in order to face the universal judgment.26 Such an interpretation is perhaps not without difficulties of its own, but it is certainly the most consistent reading within the immediate context of the passage. At the beginning, the Sadducees deny the concept of the general resurrection at the end of the age, and Jesus refutes their claims using Scripture. It should be noted, however, that this understanding of the text does not entail that Matthew denied the concept of an intermediate state. The passage focuses on the truth of the concept of eschatological bodily resurrection in the light of the Sadducean denial of this idea, and it makes no direct comment at all on whether the dead experience life in some form after their mortal demise prior to the general resurrection. But for our purposes the relevant point is this. The statement that the God of the patriarchs is God of the living cannot, in its gospel context, be taken as firm evidence that Matthew accepted the notion of an intermediate state. It is not inconsistent with that particular claim, but it does not clearly and unambiguously support it. This discussion of Matt 22:23–33 leads on to the next passage to be analyzed. This is the Matthean transfiguration narrative, in which the disciples see the transfigured Jesus in the company of Moses and Elijah (17:1–8). Does the appearance of these two important figures from the 26. In agreement with Luz, Matthew, 3:72–73; Craig A. Evans, Matthew, NCBC (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 383–84; David L. Turner, Matthew, BECNT (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2008), 531–32.

342

David C. Sim

Jewish tradition mean that they are still alive? We can explain the presence of Elijah easily enough. The Jewish Scriptures specify that Elijah did not die but was taken up to heaven in a chariot of fire (2 Kgs 2:11). His assumption to heaven comes with the gift of eternal life, so the scenario envisaged in the transfiguration narrative is that Elijah is transported from the heavenly realms to earth for his meeting with Jesus. The case of Moses, however, is quite different. The Jewish Scriptures record the death of Moses in Deut 34:5–6. The text is clear that Moses ascended the mountain opposite Jericho in the land of Moab and viewed all of the promised land. He was denied entry to this land and died immediately after his viewing of it. The text then moves on to imply that God himself buried Moses in the valley opposite Beth-Peor (in Moab) and adds the tantalizing information that no one knows the location of his tomb. So, if Moses died but then appeared at the transfiguration of Jesus more than one thousand years later, then we must be dealing with some concept of an intermediate state. The soul or spirit of Moses survived his physical demise, and this figure was therefore able to be present at Jesus’s transfiguration. But the situation is not as simple as this. The text is clear that Moses is embodied and is not merely a spirit or soul. Moses talks to Jesus, and Peter offers to build a tent for him. Any claim that Moses has been raised from the dead previously runs into the problem noted above in relation to the purported resurrection of the patriarchs. There is a further issue that needs to be considered. The rather strange manner of Moses’s burial and the fact that the location of his tomb and body were unknown gave the later Jewish tradition more than enough ammunition to speculate as to his real fate. Seemingly, in complete contradiction to the biblical statement that Moses died and was buried, there emerged in later Judaism the view that Moses had not in fact died but (like Elijah) was assumed into heaven. According to this tradition, the location of his burial place was unknown because the body of Moses was not there. We find this tradition in the late first century, the general period in which Matthew was composed. In recounting the story of Moses’s death in A.J. 4.323–326, Josephus provides the information that while Moses was talking with Eleazar and Joshua a cloud enshrouded him, and he disappeared from view. Moses nonetheless recorded his death in the Scriptures and did so to dispel the notion that he, on account of his great virtue, had gone to God. This tradition of the assumption of Moses is also attested in the later rabbinic texts (see Sifre Deut. 357; b. Sotah 13b) and is likewise attested in the Samaritan literature (Memar Markah 5.3). We also have in Christian listings of apocryphal books references to the



Life after Death? 343

Testament of Moses and the Assumption of Moses.27 It is not clear how the incomplete Latin manuscript discovered and then published by Antonio Ceriani in 1861 relates to this information. Ceriani himself believed it was the lost Assumption of Moses, and some scholars have followed his lead.28 Other scholars are not convinced. Since the extant text contains no reference at all to Moses’s assumption to heaven, and its genre is more akin to the testamentary literature, they prefer to identify it with the Testament of Moses.29 Robert Charles takes the middle ground, arguing that there were originally two separate works and that the manuscript published by Ceriani reflected a composite but fragmentary version of the two texts.30 For our purposes, there is little necessity to enter into this discussion here. No matter whether this document is the Assumption of Moses, the Testament of Moses, or a combination of the two, the pertinent point is that we have ancient testimony from Christian sources for the existence of a Jewish apocryphal text that described in some manner the assumption of Moses to heaven. This in turn provides further evidence that the story of Moses being taken up into the heavenly realms and not tasting death was rather widespread from the first century CE onwards. This important conclusion has major consequences for interpreting the status of Moses in the Matthean transfiguration narrative. If the evangelist knew the tradition that Moses, like Elijah, escaped death and was taken to heaven, then we are not dealing at all with the concept of immediate life after death or an intermediate state. It is, however, difficult to determine with any precision whether the evangelist was aware of this alternative tradition concerning the fate of Moses. Given that he knew a wide variety of Jewish texts and traditions, it is perhaps likely that he was aware of the account of Moses’s transition to heaven, but complete certainty in this case is not possible. 27. Both texts are mentioned in the Synopsis of Pseudo-Athanasius (sixth century) and the Stichometry of Nicephorus (ninth century). 28. For example, see Johannes Tromp, The Assumption of Moses: A Critical Edition with Commentary, SVTP 10 (Leiden: Brill, 1992), 115. 29. So John Priest, “The Testament of Moses (First Century A.D.): A New Translation and Introduction,” OTP 1:919–34; John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016), 159–65. 30. Robert H. Charles, “The Assumption of Moses,” in Pseudepigrapha, vol. 2 of Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament, ed. Robert H. Charles (Oxford: Clarendon, 1913), 407–9.

344

David C. Sim

Whether Matthew accepted immediate life after death and an intermediate state prior to the eschatological resurrection is a difficult question to answer, and in many ways it is tied in with one’s preferred interpretation of Matt 10:28. If the intermediate state is accepted in that logion, then one might read some of the other texts through the lens of this one. Alternatively, if the idea of life following death is not accepted in 10:28, then that will clearly influence how the other passages are interpreted. On balance, I tend to lean toward the recent view of Allison. He argues that Matthew did indeed believe in some form of existence following death, but he rightly cautions that this was not a major eschatological concern for him and that his acceptance of this notion in no way overturned the primacy of the future resurrection of the dead.31 Conclusions This study has examined the concept of immediate life after death in two very different ancient Jewish traditions. The Qumran community appear to have embraced the view that the righteous departed would continue to live immediately after death and continue their fellowship with the heavenly angels that had already been established during their lifetimes. The concept of a future resurrection of the body seems to have played no part at all in this sectarian group’s eschatology, though there is not enough evidence to rule this out completely; at best it played a minimal role. This view was at odds with many other Jewish groups, who followed the Danielic vision that the end time would be dominated by the general resurrection of the dead, which would occur as a prelude to the final judgment. In this respect we find an interesting parallel between the Dead Sea Scrolls and great Jewish author Philo of Alexandria, who also accepted the notion of life and death and had no interest in the Jewish idea of physical resurrection. In the case of the Gospel of Matthew, we find almost the opposite phenomenon. In this Christian Jewish text, the concept of the future resurrection of the dead is the dominant paradigm. This is to be expected, given that the resurrection of Jesus was the basis of the early Christian proclamation. But there are hints in this document that the evangelist also accepted the idea of an intermediate state. This is most clearly 31. Allison, “Scriptural Background,” 181.



Life after Death? 345

expressed in Matt 10:28, where Matthew seems to draw a clear distinction between the physical body and the soul, with the implication that they are separated at death and then rejoined at the eschaton. Other Matthean passages may or may not support this concept, depending on a number of factors. Yet if Matthew did accept the notion of an intermediate state, then he stands firmly with the author of Luke’s Gospel and seemingly contrary to the position of Paul, who focused exclusively on the general resurrection of the dead and who paid no heed to an intermediate life in the interim period. While one can hardly say that the Gospel of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls are closely aligned in terms of the eschatological fate of the dead, there may be an unrecognized point of intersection in terms of their views regarding the immediate fate of the departed. It is clear that the Qumran community accepted that the righteous dead would move on immediately to enjoy their fellowship with the holy angels, and it might well be the case that Matthew accepted such a concept as well. It is perhaps time that Matthean scholars put aside their Daniel-tinted glasses and investigated more earnestly the proposition that this evangelist, like many of his Jewish and Christian contemporaries, envisaged a fate for the dead that involved more than the resuscitation of the body at the end of time.

The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus: A Reassessment of Matthew’s Portrayal of the Risen Jesus Lidija Novakovic

Introduction Matthew’s account of Jesus’s crucifixion includes a peculiar episode about several supernatural events that transpired as soon as Jesus died: “And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom, and the earth was shaken, and the rocks were split, and the tombs were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised, and, having come out of the tombs, after his resurrection they entered the holy city and appeared to many” (Matt 27:51–53).1 One of the most intriguing aspects of this brief narrative is the time gap between the events that occurred on the day of Jesus’s death (tearing of the temple curtain, earthquake, splitting of the rocks, opening of the tombs, and raising of the saints) and the events that occurred after Jesus’s resurrection (entry of the resurrected saints into the holy city and their appearance to many). The question of whether the prepositional phrase “after his resurrection” (μετὰ τὴν ἔγερσιν αὐτοῦ) in verse 53 modifies the participial clause “having come out of the tombs” (ἐξελθόντες ἐκ τῶν μνημείων), which comes before it, or the main clause “they entered into the holy city” (εἰσῆλθον εἰς τὴν ἁγίαν πόλιν), which comes after it,2 only adds to the puzzlement but does not change its fundamental character. If the phrase 1. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations are my own. 2. If Matthew’s typical style, which regularly places the temporal phrases with μετά before the verbs they modify (1:12; 17:1; 24:29; 25:19; 26:2, 32, 73; 27:63), serves as a guide, μετὰ τὴν ἔγερσιν αὐτοῦ modifies the clause εἰσῆλθον εἰς τὴν ἁγίαν πόλιν.

-347-

348

Lidija Novakovic

modifies the participle, Matthew’s account presumes that the resurrected saints spent three days inside the ruptured tombs before they came out and entered Jerusalem. If it modifies the main verb, the account presumes that the risen saints came out of their tombs as soon as they were raised, spent the next three days at some undisclosed location, and then entered Jerusalem. Either way, “even though they were raised on Friday, the holy ones waited … until Sunday when Jesus had risen from the dead—an extraordinary courtesy!”3 The main problem created by the time gap between the events associated with Jesus’s death and those associated with his resurrection has nothing to do with practicalities, such as what the risen saints were doing while they were waiting to appear in the city or where they went afterwards, because the purpose of this account is not to provide historical information about some strange events that occurred in the vicinity of Jerusalem but to offer a theological interpretation of Jesus’s death and resurrection.4 This conclusion is derived not only from the legendary character of the report and its symbolic-apocalyptic language but also from the fact that “the event makes little historical sense, whereas what

3. Raymond E. Brown, The Death of the Messiah: From Gethsemane to the Grave; A Commentary on the Passion Narratives in the Four Gospels, 2 vols., ABRL (New York: Doubleday, 1994), 2:1130. 4. See Donald P. Senior, “The Death of Jesus and the Resurrection of the Holy Ones (Mt 27:51–53),” CBQ 38 (1976): 312–29; Ronald D. Witherup, “The Death of Jesus and the Raising of the Saints: Matthew 27:51–54 in Context,” in Society of Biblical Literature 1987 Seminar Papers, SBLSP 26 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987), 575, 581–82; Ronald L. Troxel, “Matt 27.51–4 Reconsidered: Its Role in the Passion Narrative, Meaning and Origin,” NTS 48 (2002): 30–47. Even Michael R. Licona, who fiercely defends the historicity of Jesus’s resurrection, concludes that “an understanding of the language in Matthew 27:52–53 as ‘special effects’ with eschatological Jewish texts and thought in mind is most plausible.” See Licona, The Resurrection of Jesus: A New Historiographical Approach (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2010), 552. For an attempt to defend the historical reliability of Matthew’s account of the resurrected saints, see David Wenham, “The Resurrection Narratives in Matthew’s Gospel,” TynBul 24 (1973): 42–46. N. T. Wright contends that “it is better to remain puzzled than to settle for either a difficult argument for probable historicity or a cheap and cheerful rationalistic dismissal of the possibility. Some stories are so odd that they may just have happened. This may be one of them, but in historical terms there is no way of finding out.” See Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003), 636.



The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus 349

does make sense is the theological point that is being made.”5 But it is precisely the theological claim that this narrative makes that seems so peculiar. In an apparent contradiction to Paul’s assertion that Jesus is “the first fruits of those who have died” (1 Cor 15:20),6 Matthew alleges that Jesus’s resurrection was preceded by the resurrection of many saints who were buried near Jerusalem. Matthew’s remark that they delayed their appearance in the city until Jesus himself had been raised from the dead does not change his basic claim that they, rather than Jesus, were raised first; it only shows that Matthew was aware of this problem and sought to resolve it by providing a temporal link between the two resurrections.7 In this way, he has constructed a distinctive chronological sequence of the events that occurred after Jesus’s death, a sort of theological riddle that is sometimes described as a crux interpretum of Matthean studies.8 There have been several notable attempts to solve this interpretive conundrum. Some scholars regard it as an early expression of the church’s dogma about Christ’s descent into hell, known as the “harrowing of hell.”9 Delvin Hutton argues that Matthew divided a primitive resurrection epiph5. Donald A. Hagner, Matthew, WBC 33 (Dallas: Word, 1993–1995), 2:851. 6. See also 1 Cor 15:23 (“Christ the first fruits”), Rom 8:29 (“the firstborn within a large family”), Col 1:18 (“the firstborn from the dead”), Acts 26:23 (“the first to rise from the dead”), and Rev 1:5 (“the firstborn of the dead”). 7. The idea that the prepositional phrase μετὰ τὴν ἔγερσιν αὐτοῦ is an early scribal interpolation has gained some traction in contemporary Matthean scholarship. See W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 3:634– 35; Craig A. Evans, Matthew, NCBC (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 467; Troxel, “Matt 27.51–4 Reconsidered,” 37. For a thorough text-critical examination of the authenticity of this prepositional phrase, see Charles Quarles, “ΜΕΤΑ ΤΗΝ ΕΓΕΡΣΙΝ ΑΥΤΟΥ: A Scribal Interpolation in Matthew 27:53?,” JBTC 20 (2015): 1–15. Quarles has demonstrated that the evidence for a scribal interpolation is frequently overstated. In this essay, I have accepted his conclusion that the μετὰ τὴν ἔγερσιν αὐτοῦ phrase belongs to the earliest text of Matthew that can be reconstructed on the basis of the available evidence. 8. See Jens Herzer, “The Riddle of the Holy Ones in Matthew 27:51b–53: A New Proposal for a Crux Interpretum,” in “What Does the Scripture Say?” Studies in the Function of Scripture in Early Judaism and Christianity, ed. Craig A. Evans and H. Daniel Zacharias, LNTS 469 (London: T&T Clark, 2012), 1:142–57. 9. Reginald C. Fuller, “The Bodies of the Saints (Mt 27,52–53),” Scripture 3 (1948): 86–87; Karl Gschwind, Die Niederfahrt Christi in die Unterwelt: Ein Beitrag zur Exe-

350

Lidija Novakovic

any story, which is also preserved in the Gos. Pet. 28–49, into two parts: the reaction of the guards, which he added to the Markan empty tomb tradition, and the resurrection of the sleeping saints, which he added to the Markan account of Jesus’s death and the confession of the centurion to accentuate the eschatological character of Jesus’s death.10 Donald Senior claims that Matthew himself constructed the account of the resurrected saints from the motifs derived from Ezek 37 in order to interpret Jesus’s death as the turning point in salvation history.11 John Wenham argues that a full stop, rather than a comma, should be placed after καὶ τὰ μνημεῖα ἀνεῴχθησαν in Matt 27:52a and regards the statement that follows as a parenthesis. He thinks that this altered punctuation places the whole episode of the resurrection of the saints after the resurrection of Jesus.12 Ronald Troxel asserts that Matthew himself composed 27:51b–54 under the influence of 1 En. 93.6, which describes the validation of the divine origin of the torah through the appearance of the holy ones. In his view, the purpose of the story of the risen saints is not to infuse the death of Jesus’s with eschatological significance but to uphold Jesus’s identity as God’s Son.13 Kenneth Waters regards Matt 27:52–53 as a fragment of pre-Matthean Christian apocalyptic that refers not to an event of Matthew’s past but to the future resurrection of the dead at the end of time. Consequently, the holy city into which the risen saints enter is not the historic city of Jerusalem but the new Jerusalem mentioned in Rev 21:2.14 Ronald Witherup and Ulrich Luz suggest that this

gese des Neuen Testaments und zur Geschichte des Taufsymbols, NTAbh 2 (Münster: Aschendorf, 1911), 185–99. 10. Delvin D. Hutton, “The Resurrection of the Holy Ones (Matt 27:51b–53): A Study of the Theology of the Matthean Passion Narrative” (ThD diss., Harvard University, 1970), 172–76. 11. Senior, “Death of Jesus,” 312–29. 12. John W. Wenham, “When Were the Saints Raised? A Note on the Punctuation in Matthew xxvii. 51–3,” JTS 32 (1981): 150–52. Wenham assumes that the μετὰ τὴν ἔγερσιν αὐτοῦ phrase now modifies the entire parenthetical sentence that begins with καὶ πολλὰ σώματα τῶν κεκοιμημένων ἁγίων ἠγέρθησαν. The syntactical basis for this interpretation, however, is insufficient. Regardless of where we place the full stop, the position of the prepositional phrase in 27:53 remains the same: it does not modify the verb ἠγέρθησαν in 27:52b but the verb εἰσῆλθον in 27:53b (or possibly the participle ἐξελθόντες in 27:53a). 13. Troxel, “Matt 27.51–4 Reconsidered,” 30–47. 14. Kenneth L. Waters, “Matthew 27:52–53 as Apocalyptic Apostrophe: Temporal-Spatial Collapse in the Gospel of Matthew,” JBL 122 (2003): 489–515.



The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus 351

episode functions as a sign of God’s impending judgment on the citizens of Jerusalem who have condemned Jesus to death.15 This essay seeks to offer a contribution to this ongoing discussion about the function of the resurrection of the saints in the Gospel of Matthew. I argue that the evangelist incorporated a traditional piece that reflects the earliest Christian belief, derived from the expectation of the resurrection of the righteous in Second Temple Judaism, that Jesus’s resurrection marked the beginning of the general resurrection of the dead. However, unlike Paul, who uses the link between the resurrection of Jesus and the universal resurrection to insist that Jesus’s followers will be raised in the same way he was raised, Matthew uses it to demonstrate the distinctiveness of Jesus’s resurrection. In his narrative, the resurrection of the saints functions as a prolepsis of the resurrection of Jesus, but its purpose is not to suggest that what happened to the saints also happened to Jesus but to indicate that his resurrection was superior to theirs. In this way, Matthew’s peculiar chronological sequence upholds Jesus’s messianic identity and underscores the universal authority that he received through his resurrection from the dead. The Scriptural Background of Matthew’s Account of the Resurrection of the Saints Matthew 27:51–53 consists of seven paratactic clauses of various length, five of which are in the passive voice, indicating that the events described are the acts of God. Καὶ ἰδοὺ τὸ καταπέτασμα τοῦ ναοῦ ἐσχίσθη ἀπ᾿ ἄνωθεν ἕως κάτω εἰς δύο καὶ ἡ γῆ ἐσείσθη καὶ αἱ πέτραι ἐσχίσθησαν, καὶ τὰ μνημεῖα ἀνεῴχθησαν καὶ πολλὰ σώματα τῶν κεκοιμημένων ἁγίων ἠγέρθησαν, καὶ ἐξελθόντες ἐκ τῶν μνημείων μετὰ τὴν ἔγερσιν αὐτοῦ εἰσῆλθον εἰς τὴν ἁγίαν πόλιν καὶ ἐνεφανίσθησαν πολλοῖς.

15. Witherup, “Death of Jesus,” 582; Ulrich Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007), 3:568.

352

Lidija Novakovic

And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom, and the earth was shaken, and the rocks were split, and the tombs were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised, and, having come out of the tombs, after his resurrection they entered the holy city, and they appeared to many.

Since my interest here is in the resurrection of the saints, my analysis will circumvent the first clause in verse 51a that describes the rending of the veil.16 The other four clauses in the passive voice, which describe the earthquake, the splitting of the rocks, the opening of the tombs, and the raising of the saints, use several scriptural motifs that became instrumental for the emergence of the resurrection hope in Second Temple Judaism. One of them is the imagery of the opening of graves from LXX Ezek 37:12: “Therefore, prophesy and say, Thus says the Lord: Behold, I am opening your tombs and will lead you out of your tombs and will lead you into the land of Israel” (διὰ τοῦτο προφήτευσον καὶ εἰπόν τάδε λέγει κύριος ἰδοὺ ἐγὼ ἀνοίγω ὑμῶν τὰ μνήματα καὶ ἀνάξω ὑμᾶς ἐκ τῶν μνημάτων ὑμῶν καὶ εἰσάξω ὑμᾶς εἰς τὴν γῆν τοῦ Ισραηλ). Within the literary context of Ezek 37:1–14, this verse occurs in the passage (vv. 11–14) that interprets Ezekiel’s vision of the valley of dry bones that are joined together and reanimated through the spirit of God (vv. 1–10), not as a literal resurrection of the dead but as a metaphorical description of national restoration.17 Yet, Matthew’s 16. On this subject, see Daniel M. Gurtner, The Torn Veil: Matthew’s Exposition of the Death of Jesus, SNTSMS 139 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007). 17. See Robert Martin-Achard, From Death to Life: A Study of the Development of the Doctrine of the Resurrection in the Old Testament, trans. John Penney Smith (Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1960), 93–102; Walther Zimmerli, Ezekiel: A Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel, trans. Ronald E. Clements and James D. Martin, ed. Frank Moore Cross, Klaus Baltzer, and Paul D. Hanson, Hermeneia (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979–1983), 2:253–66; Andrew Chester, “Resurrection and Transformation,” in Auferstehung – Resurrection, ed. Friedrich Avemarie and Hermann Lichtenberger, WUNT 135 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001), 48–54. Karin Schöpflin argues that Ezek 37:1–14 consists of two redactional layers: an original vision (vv. 1–6, 10), which should be understood metaphorically in light of the interpretive oracle in vv. 11–13a, and a later expansion (vv. 7–9), which interprets the original vision in terms of an eschatological resurrection of the flesh. See Schöpflin, “The Revivification of the Dry



The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus 353

text clearly indicates that he disregarded the context of this passage and interpreted it as a literal revivification of the corpses of the saints. Neglecting the context of a selected scriptural passage was a common exegetical practice in both Second Temple Judaism and early Christianity.18 In this case, however, Matthew not only uses a prevalent exegetical technique of his time but also embraces an interpretive tradition of Ezek 37:1–14 that understands it as the eschatological resurrection of the dead. This way of reading Ezekiel’s prophecy is documented in Jewish documents such as Pseudo-Ezekiel, Papyrus 967, the Apocryphon of Ezekiel, Sib. Or. 2.221–226; 4.179–182, 4 Macc 18:17, and Liv. Prop. Ezek 13, allowing us to conclude with Dale Allison that such an interpretation of Ezekiel’s prophecy “was not just known in pre-Christian times but probably well known.”19 The earliest extant interpretation of Ezekiel’s vision of the valley of dry bones as a literal resurrection of the righteous dead is found in so-called Pseudo-Ezekiel (4Q385–388, 4Q391), a second-century BCE nonsectarian composition discovered at Qumran.20 Pseudo-Ezekiel offers us a glimpse into the manner Ezek 37:1–4 was interpreted eschatologically in pre-Christian Judaism. The best-preserved copy of this text is 4Q385 2 2–9 (with partial overlaps in 4Q386 1 I, 1–10, and 4Q388 7 2–7): 2

[And I said, “O Lord!] I have seen many (men) from Israel who have loved your Name and have walked 3 in the ways of [your heart. And th]ese Bones: Ezekiel 37:1–14,” in The Human Body in Death and Resurrection, ed. Tobias Nicklas, Friedrich V. Reiterer, and Joseph Verheyden, DCLS 2009 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2009), 67–85. 18. See Lidija Novakovic, Raised from the Dead according to Scripture: The Role of Israel’s Scripture in the Early Christian Interpretations of Jesus’ Resurrection, JCT 12 (London: T&T Clark, 2012), 7–67. 19. Dale C. Allison Jr., “The Scriptural Background of a Matthean Legend: Ezekiel 37, Zechariah 14, and Matthew 27,” in Life beyond Death in Matthew’s Gospel: Religious Metaphor or Bodily Reality?, ed. Wim Weren, Huub van de Sandt, and Joseph Verheyden, BTS 13 (Leuven: Peeters, 2011), 158. 20. See George W. E. Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life in Intertestamental Judaism and Early Christianity, exp. ed., HTS 56 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2006), 12; Albert L. A. Hogeterp, “Belief in Resurrection and Its Religious Settings in Qumran and the New Testament,” in Echoes from the Caves: Qumran and the New Testament, ed. Florentino García Martínez, STDJ 85 (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 300. For a proposal to abandon the categories of sectarian and “nonsectarian altogether, see Florentino García Martínez, “¿Sectario, no-sectario, o qué? Problemas de una taxonomía correcta de los textos qumránicos,” RevQ 23 (2008): 383–94.

354

Lidija Novakovic

things when will they come to be and how will they be recompensed for their piety?” And the Lord 4 said to me, “I will make (it) manifest [ ] to the children of Israel and they shall know that I am the Lord.” vacat 5 [And he said,] “Son of man, prophesy over the bones and let them be j[oi]ned bone to its bone and joint 6 [to its joint.” And it wa]s so. And He said a second time, “Prophesy and let arteries come upon them and let skin cover them 7 [from above.” And it was so.] And He said, “Prophesy once again over the four winds of heaven and let them blow breath 8 [into the slain.” And it was so,] and a large crowd of people came [to li] fe and blessed the Lord Sebaoth wh[o] 9 [had given them life. vacat And] I said, “O Lord! When shall these things come to be?” And the Lord said to m[e, “Until …]”21

The introductory dialogue between the prophet and God (ll. 2–4) clarifies that Ezekiel’s prophecy of the revivification of dry bones is here applied to pious Israelites who expect recompense for their righteous living. The revivification of dry bones is described as a three-step process: bones and joints are assembled first, then they are covered with arteries and skin, and finally they receive breath by the four winds. Each stage is followed not by a description of the actual execution but by the fulfillment formula “And it was so,” which recalls the fulfillment formula in Gen 1. The author also mentions a large crowd of people who are brought to life. At the end of the section, he adds another question about the time of the fulfillment of these prophecies. Thanks to these interpretive strategies, Ezekiel’s prophecy is placed in an eschatological context and applied to righteous individuals who expect reward for their loyalty to God. The resurrection itself is here regarded as a recompense for righteous living. Devora Dimant aptly points out that “the most radical change introduced by the Qumran author is … the conversion of the original vision from a symbolic scene about Israel’s national revival into a scene of real resurrection as eschatological recompense for individual piety.”22 The graphic description of a staged reanimation of 21. Translation from Devorah Dimant, Qumran Cave 4: Parabiblical Texts, Part 4: Pseudo-Prophetic Texts, ed. Dimant, DJD 30 (Oxford: Clarendon, 2001). 22. Devorah Dimant, “Resurrection, Restoration, and Time-Curtailing in Qumran, Early Judaism, and Christianity,” RevQ 19 (2000): 532. See also Florentino García Martínez, “The Apocalyptic Interpretation of Ezekiel in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Interpreting Translation: Studies on the LXX and Ezekiel in Honour of Johan Lust, ed. García Martínez and Marc Vervenne, BETL 142 (Leuven: Peeters, 2005), 163–76. For



The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus 355

the dry bones indicates that the author envisions the resurrected bodies exhibiting the same kind of physicality that characterizes mortal existence.23 The allusion to Gen 1 shows that Pseudo-Ezekiel belongs to the stream of Jewish tradition that understands the resurrection as a new creation, which is characterized by the belief that the Endzeit corresponds to the Urzeit.24 A similar exegetical tradition is also documented in the rabbinic writings. In Gen. Rab. 14.5, the rabbis discuss “two formations, one in this world and one in the future world.”25 This topic is raised because two yods appear in the spelling of the verb ‫“( וייצר‬and he formed”) at the beginning of Gen 2:7, but only one yod in the spelling of the same verb (‫ )ויצר‬in Gen 2:19, where it describes God’s formation of animals and birds. Two different viewpoints are presented, one by the School of Shammai and another by the School of Hillel. The Shammaites argue that a man’s “formation in the next world will not be like that of this world. In this world skin and flesh are formed first, the sinews and bones last; but in the future he will commence with sinews and bones and finish with the skin and flesh.” At this point the rabbis invoke Ezek 37:8 as the scriptural proof for their position: “For thus it says in connection with the dead of Ezekiel: And I beheld, and, lo, there were sinews upon them, and flesh came up, and skin covered a different view, see Johannes Tromp, “ ‘Can These Bones Live?’ Ezekiel 37:1–14 and Eschatological Resurrection,” in The Book of Ezekiel and Its Influence, ed. Henk Jan de Jonge and Johannes Tromp (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007), 61–78. 23. See Casey D. Elledge, “Resurrection of the Dead: Exploring Our Earliest Evidence Today,” in Resurrection: The Origin of a Biblical Doctrine, ed. James H. Charlesworth, Casey D. Elledge, James L. Crenshaw, Hendrikus Boers, and W. Waite Willis Jr., FSCS (London: T&T Clark, 2006), 35; Schöpflin, “Revivification of the Dry Bones,” 82. 24. The earliest and clearest example of this form of Jewish eschatological hope appears in 2 Macc 7, which describes unspeakable suffering endured by seven brothers and their mother because they refused to comply with the Hellenizing policies of Antiochus Epiphanes. In this remarkable account, the mother encourages her sons to endure by reminding them of God’s creative power, arguing that “the Creator of the world, who shaped the beginning of humankind and devised the origin of all things, will in his mercy give life and breath back to you again” (2 Macc 7:23 NRSV). For further discussion of Ezekiel texts from Qumran, see the essay in the present volume by Daniel M. Gurtner, “Danielic Influence at the Intersection of Matthew and the Dead Sea Scrolls.” 25. All quotations from Genesis Rabbah follow Harry Freedman’s translation in Midrash Rabbah, ed. Harry Freedman and Maurice Simon, 3rd ed. (New York: Soncino, 1983), 1:113.

356

Lidija Novakovic

them above.” The Hillelites, however, object to this use of Ezek 37 because, in their view, the dead of Ezekiel resemble “[a] man who enters a bath: what he takes off first he puts on last.… Just as he is formed in this world, so will he be formed in the next world. In this world the skin and flesh come first, the sinews and bones last; so in the future will he begin with the skin and flesh and end with the sinews and bones.” A related discussion is found in Lev. Rab. 14.9, but here it occurs in the context of the rabbinic interpretation of Lev 12:2, which regulates the length of ritual impurity of a woman who bears a male child. This text prompts the adherents of the School of Shammai to argue that the formations of the embryo in this world and of the body in the world to come are different: “In this world it begins with flesh and skin, and ends with sinews and bones, but in the Time to Come, it is to begin with sinews and bones and end with skin.”26 The scriptural prooftext for this opinion is again Ezek 37:8. This interpretation of Ezekiel is refuted by the Hillelites with the same reasoning that is used in Genesis Rabbah: “The dead of [the vision of] Ezekiel resemble one who goes to a bath-house; the article of clothing which he takes off last, he [afterwards] puts on first.” This allows them to put forward the alternate thesis: “Like the formation of the embryo in this world, will be the formation thereof in the Time to Come: In this world it begins with skin and flesh and ends with sinews and bones; in the Time to Come it will be likewise.” The relative lateness of these references from the rabbinic writings prevents us from using them directly to reconstruct the Jewish milieu in which Matthew’s Gospel was written. What they demonstrate, however, is the continuation of an exegetical trajectory that predates Matthew, which interprets Ezekiel’s vision of the revivification of the dry bones as a literal resurrection of the dead that resembles God’s creation of the world. In this interpretive tradition, the emphasis falls on the physicality of the resurrected bodies, which are envisioned as the replicas of the earthly bodies. The influence of this tradition on Matthew’s account of the risen saints can be seen through two important details: the tombs had to be opened to allow the resurrected bodies to come out, suggesting that they could not pass through solid objects, and the appearance of the risen saints “as representatives of the Jewish past”27 to the citizens of Jerusalem presumes 26. All quotations from Leviticus Rabbah follow Jacob Israelstam’s translation in Freedman and Simon, Midrash Rabbah, 4:185–86. 27. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:634.



The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus 357

that they could be recognized, suggesting that their resurrected bodies resembled their mortal bodies. Matthew’s report, however, includes several details that cannot be explained with the help of the material derived from Ezek 37:1–14 alone. It mentions an earthquake that causes the rocks to split,28 it identifies the risen ones as “saints” (ἅγιοι), and it claims that their resurrection took place near Jerusalem. It is also important to note that Matthew does not mention bones or any other element of human anatomy but speaks only about “bodies” (σώματα). The most likely source of these motifs is the eschatological interpretation of Zech 14:4–5,29 which seems to have been quite popular in Matthew’s Jewish milieu. In its original context, the Zechariah text describes the day of the Lord that will be marked by the split of the Mount of Olives and the appearance of God with his holy ones: And on that day his feet shall stand on the Mount of Olives, which is opposite Jerusalem on the east, and the Mount of Olives shall be split [σχισθήσεται τὸ ὄρος τῶν ἐλαιῶν], half of it to the east and half of it to the sea, an exceedingly great chasm, and half of the Mount shall incline northward and half of it southward. And the valley of my mountains shall be blocked up, and the valley of the mountains shall be joined up to Iasol, and it shall be blocked up as it was blocked in the days of the earthquake [ἐν ταῖς ἡμέραις τοῦ σεισμοῦ] in the days of King Ozias of Judas. And the Lord my God will come and all the holy ones with him [καὶ ἥξει κύριος ὁ θεός μου καὶ πάντες οἱ ἅγιοι μετ᾽ αὐτοῦ]. (NETS)

28. The LXX renders the Hebrew noun ‫“( רעש‬quaking, shaking”) in Ezek 37:7 with σεισμός, which in the literary context of Ezek 37:1–10 most likely means “shaking” (NETS), but it could also be translated as “earthquake.” It is, however, a bit of a stretch to say that in Ezek 37 “an earthquake (σεισμός; Ezek. 37:7 LXX) precedes the opening of graves and the resurrection of people who return to the land of Israel (Ezek. 37:12–13)” (Gurtner, Torn Veil, 146) because 37:12–13 does not describe events that are chronologically consecutive to those described in 37:7–10 but belongs to the interpretive section of Ezekiel’s vision, which does not contain any reference to σεισμός. 29. This has been convincingly argued by Allison in several of his publications; see Dale C. Allison Jr., The End of the Ages Has Come: An Early Interpretation of the Passion and Resurrection of Jesus (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985), 43–45; Allison, “Scriptural Background,” 161–77; Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:628–29. See also Charlene McAfee Moss, The Zechariah Tradition and the Gospel of Matthew, BZNW 156 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2008), 198–201.

358

Lidija Novakovic

Although Zech 14:4–5 does not mention the resurrection of the dead, there are indications in Jewish sources—both textual and iconographic— that some readers understood this text as a description of the revival of the dead. The textual evidence comes from the Targum to Zechariah in Codex Reuchlinianus, which includes the following sentence prefacing Zech 14:4: “At that time the Lord will take in his hand the great trumpet and will blow ten blasts upon it to revive the dead.”30 In his translation of Zech 14:4–5, the targumist generally follows the Hebrew text, emphasizing God’s revelation on the Mount of Olives, located near Jerusalem, and the splitting of the mount in two halves by a very great valley, concluding with the declaration that “the Lord my God shall reveal himself and all his holy ones with him.” The interpretive tradition that associates the resurrection of the dead with the splitting of the Mount of Olives is also documented in Tg. Songs 8.5a: “Solomon the prophet said, When the dead come to life the Mount of Olives will be split asunder and all the dead of Israel will come out from beneath it; and also the righteous who died in exile will come by way of channels under the ground, and will debouch from under the Mount of Olives.”31 The iconographic evidence comes from the panel depicting the eschatological resurrection of the dead on the northern wall of the DuraEuropos synagogue in Syria, which is usually dated to the mid-third century CE. Throughout several successive images, the panel portrays the assembly of various disconnected body parts, which are scattered at the bottom of the panel, into lifeless bodies, which are then awakened to life by one of four winged creatures descending from the sky. The central image on the left side of the panel is the split Mount of Olives, which is marked by two olive trees on the top of each mountain half. The fallen building on the right slope of the mountain indicates that the rift was caused by an earthquake. The central image on the right side of the panel is a group of ten revived individuals who are surrounded by two identical figures, probably representing the prophet Ezekiel in two appearances.32The combination 30. Translation from Robert P. Gordon in Gordon and Cathcart, The Targum of the Minor Prophets, vol. 14 of The Aramaic Bible: The Targums (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1989), 223. 31. Translation from Robert P. Gordon in “The Targumists as Eschatologists,” in Congress Volume: Göttingen, 1977, ed. John Emerton, VTSup 29 (Leiden: Brill, 1978), 117–18. 32. For a detailed analysis of the Ezekiel fresco, see Rachel Wischnitzer-Bernstein,



The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus 359

of these motifs and imageries indicates that they are derived from two scriptural texts, Ezek 37:1–14 and Zech 14:4–5, which have been linked together through their common association with the resurrection of the dead at the end of times. That Matthew’s account of the risen saints shares several striking similarities with the Dura-Europos painting, such as an earthquake, the splitting of the rocks, and the resurrection of the saints, suggests that he was most likely familiar with the exegetical tradition that conflated these two passages.33 This reconstruction of the scriptural background of Matthew’s text allows us to conclude that he envisions the resurrection of the saints as the reanimation of their corpses. While he shows no interest in their specific identity or in the manner and the possible stages of their restoration to life, he takes pains to demonstrate that their resurrected bodies did not possess supernatural qualities: “Had the sleepers awakened but the rocks not been split and the tombs not opened, the many bodies of the saints would have been stuck where they were.”34

“The Conception of the Resurrection in the Ezekiel Panel of the Dura Synagogue,” JBL 60 (1941): 43–55; Carl Kraeling, The Synagogue: Final Report 8, Part 1 of the Excavation at Dura-Europos, ed. Alfred R. Bellinger (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1956), 181–94. For an investigation of the significance of the Dura-Europos fresco for Matt 27:51–53, see Allison, End of the Ages, 43; Allison, “Scriptural Background,” 163–66, 173–77; Gurtner, Torn Veil, 147. 33. Matthew’s Syrian provenance corroborates this reconstruction. A reference from Didache, a document that shares remarkable similarities with the Gospel of Matthew, further supports the conjecture that Matthew was familiar with the interpretation of Zech 14:5–6 as a prophecy about the literal resurrection of the dead. In the section called “Mini-Apocalypse,” the author quotes Zech 14:5 as a prooftext for the resurrection of the righteous: “And then there will appear the signs of the truth: first the sign of an opening in heaven, then the sign of the sound of a trumpet, and third, the resurrection of the dead—but not of all; rather, as it has been said, ‘The Lord will come, and all his saints with him.’ Then the world will see the Lord coming upon the clouds of heaven” (Did. 16.6–8). Translation from Michael W. Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007), 369. 34. Allison, “Scriptural Background,” 178. On their identity, Davies and Allison suggest that “we should here think of pious Jews from ancient times” (Matthew, 3:633). Luz argues that the term saints is a synonym for “righteous” and adds that “the possibilities—from Abel to Zechariah (23:35)—are numerous” (Matthew, 3:567). It is also noteworthy that Matthew speaks of “many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep” (πολλὰ σώματα τῶν κεκοιμημένων ἁγίων), which probably indicates that he did not have in mind the general resurrection of the righteous; see Luz, Matthew, 3:567.

360

Lidija Novakovic

The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus There is, however, one significant aspect of Matt 27:51–53 that cannot be explained with the help of the extant Jewish sources that could be used to reconstruct Matthew’s Jewish milieu. Although the expectation of the resurrection of the dead among Matthew’s Jewish contemporaries was by no means uniform, there was a general agreement that the dead would come back to life at the turn of the ages. Yet, Matthew asserts that such an event has already occurred, and not just once, when Jesus was raised from the dead, but twice, when many of the sleeping saints were awakened to a new life. This claim reflects the earliest Christian conviction that Jesus’s resurrection signaled the beginning of the general resurrection of the dead, which has left some traces in the earliest layers of the New Testament documents.35 The clearest evidence of this belief comes from the pre-Pauline confession that Jesus “was appointed Son of God in power according to the spirit of holiness since the resurrection of the dead” (Rom 1:4). This is the only New Testament passage in which the designation for the general resurrection, ἀνάστασις νεκρῶν, is used to describe Jesus’s resurrection. Much more common are the combinations of the verbs ἀνίστημι or ἐγείρω with the prepositional phrase ἐκ νεκρῶν,36 because they indicate that Jesus was the only person who was raised from among the dead. The older phrase ἀνάστασις νεκρῶν, however, reveals that in early Christianity, Jesus’s resurrection was initially interpreted not as “an isolated, freak occurrence. This was, in embryo, ‘the resurrection of the dead,’ of all the dead.” 37 Another trace of this primitive Christian theology may be the claim that Jesus was raised on the third day. The third-day motif occurs in 1 Cor 15:3–4, where Paul rehearses the tradition given to him, but it is also found in the later material, such as the Matthean (16:21; 17:23; 20:19) and Lukan 35. See Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:629. 36. The nominal phrase ἀνάστασις ἐκ νεκρῶν occurs only in 1 Pet 1:3. The prepositional phrase ἐκ νεκρῶν is combined with ἀνίστημι in Mark 9:9–10; Luke 24:46; John 20:9; Acts 10:41; 13:34; 17:3, 31; and with ἐγείρω in Matt 17:9; John 2:22; 21:14; Acts 3:15; 4:10; 13:30; Rom 4:24; 6:4, 9; 7:4; 8:11; 10:9; 1 Cor 15:12, 20; Gal 1:1; Eph 1:20; Col 2:12; 2 Tim 2:8; 1 Pet 1:21. 37. Wright, Resurrection of the Son, 243 (emphasis original). See also James D. G. Dunn, “Jesus—Flesh and Spirit: An Exposition of Romans I. 3–4,” JTS 24 (1973): 56; Ernst Käsemann, Commentary on Romans, trans. Geoffrey W. Bromiley (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980), 12.



The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus 361

(9:22; 18:33) passion predictions and Luke’s account of Jesus’s resurrection (Luke 24:6–7, 46; Acts 10:40).38 The designation “on the third day” is most likely derived from Hos 6:2, which is in the rabbinic literature routinely interpreted as the day of the resurrection of the dead (y. Ber. 5.2; Gen. Rab. 56.1; Esth. Rab. 9.2; Pirqe R. El. 51 [73b–74a]; Tg. Hos. 6.2). If this interpretive tradition of Hos 6:2 was already current in the first century CE, it would have allowed early Christian interpreters to convey the eschatological significance of Jesus’s resurrection.39 By claiming that Jesus was raised on the third day, his followers declared that he was raised on the day when God was expected to raise the dead, that is, that with his resurrection the general resurrection of the dead had already begun. The close affinity of Matthew’s account of the resurrected saints to this belief suggests that this legendary story arose in the period when the expectation of the general resurrection was still associated with the resurrection of Jesus.40 Yet, as everyone realized as time passed by, the resurrection of Jesus was not followed by the resurrection of others. Paul’s solution to this problem is well-known. He divided a single eschatological event—the resurrection of the dead—into two occurrences, claiming that Jesus Christ was raised first and that his followers would be raised in like manner when he returns. By calling the resurrection of Christ “the first fruits of those who have died” (1 Cor 15:20), Paul argues that the full harvest—the general resurrection of the dead, which Paul conceptualizes as the resurrection of those who belong to Christ—will surely follow.41 Paul’s blueprint of the eschatological events that have been set in motion with 38. A variant expression “after three days” appears in Mark’s passion predictions (8:31, 9:31, 10:34). Matthew 12:40 uses the formulation “three days and three nights” to establish the analogy between the length of Jonah’s sojourn in the belly of the sea monster and the length of the Son of Man’s sojourn in the heart of the earth. A combination of the phrases “after three days” and “until the third day” occurs in the request of the Pharisees to Pilate (Matt 27:63–64). 39. For the full argument, see Novakovic, Raised from the Dead, 116–33. 40. For the argument that Matt 27:51b–53 is not redactional but traditional, see Allison, End of the Ages, 40–46. For the view that Matt 27:51b–53 is a free editorial composition, see Donald P. Senior, The Passion according to Matthew: A Redactional Study, BETL 29 (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1975), 207–23; Senior, “Death of Jesus,” 312–29. 41. In Rom 11:15, Paul associates the resurrection of the dead at the end of time (ζωὴ ἐκ νεκρῶν) with Israel’s redemption; see Dale C. Allison Jr., “The Background of Romans 11:11–15 in Apocalyptic and Rabbinic Literature,” SBT 10 (1980): 229–34.

362

Lidija Novakovic

Jesus’s resurrection includes a description of the interim period, which he presents as Christ’s temporary messianic kingdom: “For it is necessary that he continue to rule until he [God] puts all the enemies under his feet” (1 Cor 15:25). Paul’s portrayal of Christ’s royal status presumes that at his resurrection Jesus became the messianic king who has been reigning in his heavenly kingdom ever since.42 Matthew is not Paul, of course. For him, Jesus did not acquire the messianic status at his resurrection from the dead but has been the royal Messiah since his birth. Likewise, Matthew did not include the story of the revived saints, which he found in the traditional material available to him, to demonstrate that Jesus’s resurrection serves as an assurance that the believers will be raised like Jesus.43 Yet, Matthew’s theological objective vis-à-vis Jesus’s messianic identity may not have been so different from Paul’s. I suggest that by placing the story of the localized resurrection of the saints before the account of the resurrection of Jesus and by using several narrative strategies that distinguish the former from the latter, the evangelist constructs a prolepsis, “a strange semi-anticipation”44 of Jesus’s resurrection that underscores the uniqueness of the latter and, with it, Jesus’s exalted status as the ruler of the universe who declares: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (28:18).45 Matthew’s account of Jesus’s resurrection consists of the narrative about the discovery of the empty tomb (28:1–7) and the narratives about Jesus’s appearances—first to the women who discovered the empty tomb in a nearby location (28:8–10) and then to the eleven disciples on a mountain in Galilee (28:16–20). These stories are combined with the report about the Roman guard who was placed at Jesus’s tomb, which consists of two parts: the request of the Jewish leaders to Pilate (27:62–66) and the 42. See Charles E. Hill, “Paul’s Understanding of Christ’s Kingdom in I Corinthians 15:20–8,” NovT 30 (1988): 317. 43. Pace Hagner, who thinks that “Matthew’s readers will be thinking of the eventual resurrection of Christians” (Matthew, 2:849). 44. Wright, Resurrection of the Son, 635. 45. Relating the events that anticipate or foreshadow other events in the narrative is a characteristic of Matthew’s literary style. For example, the infancy narrative could be regarded as a “proleptic passion narrative.” See John P. Meier, The Vision of Matthew: Christ, Church, and Morality in the First Gospel (New York: Paulist, 1979), 53. The healings of a centurion’s servant (8:5–13) and of the Canaanite woman’s daughter (15:21–28) anticipate the inclusion of the gentiles (28:19–20); Jesus’s passion predictions (16:21; 17:22–23; 20:17–19) anticipate his arrest and crucifixion in Jerusalem.



The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus 363

report of the guard back to the Jewish authorities, who bribe them to tell a lie that Jesus’s body was stolen by his disciples (28:11–15). There are three major points of contact between these narratives and the story of the saints who come back to life. The most obvious among them is the occurrence of an earthquake: Matt 27:51 asserts that “the earth was shaken” (ἡ γῆ ἐσείσθη), and Matt 28:2 reports that “there was a great earthquake” (σεισμὸς ἐγένετο μέγας). In chapter 27, however, the earthquake serves to split the rocks and open the tombs of the risen saints to enable them to come out, while in chapter 28, the earthquake accompanies the descent of an angel of the Lord, who rolled back the stone from the tomb’s entrance to enable the two women—Mary Magdalene and the other Mary—to enter the tomb (even though their actual entry is not described) and perceive that it was already empty. The sequence of the narrated events in Matthew’s account of the discovery of Jesus’s disappearance from the tomb serves to demonstrate that Jesus exited the tomb before the women arrived at the site of Jesus’s burial and before the earthquake occurred. Like all Christian interpreters before him, Matthew refuses to describe Jesus’s resurrection or to indicate when it actually happened.46 Since his account includes the Roman guard at the tomb, the audience could infer that the risen Jesus somehow passed through the sealed stone and walked past the guard to an unspecified location without them noticing.47 Thus, “Matthew offers us one story in which the dead are not free to move about until their graves are opened, another in which a resurrected body can pass through solid rock.”48 The obvious conclusion is that, unlike the bodies of the risen saints, the body of the risen Jesus possessed extraordinary abilities that do not characterize mortal bodies. At the same time, however, Matthew indicates that his body was tangible because in 28:9 he relates, albeit briefly, that the women, when they met the risen Jesus, “clasped his feet” (ἐκράτησαν αὐτοῦ τοὺς πόδας). Since in folktales ghosts often do not have feet, the mention of Jesus’s feet 46. Raymond E. Brown remarks, “Matthew’s silence about the resurrection itself, similar to the silence in the other canonical gospels, suggests that in more sophisticated circles it was understood that the resurrection could not be described, for it was an event that touched the other world beyond time and space.” See Brown, “The Resurrection in Matthew (27:62–28:20),” Worship 64 (1990): 163. 47. The ability of the risen Jesus to pass through solid objects is also emphasized in Luke’s (24:31, 36) and John’s (20:19, 26) appearance narratives. 48. Allison, “Scriptural Background,” 179.

364

Lidija Novakovic

specifically refutes the idea that Jesus was a ghost.49 It seems, then, that Matthew seeks to establish both discontinuity and continuity between Jesus’s earthly body and his resurrected body. This objective is also discernible in the second point of contact between Matthew’s account of the risen saints and his narratives about the risen Jesus. In the former, the resurrected saints make a delayed entrance to “the holy city,” that is, Jerusalem,50 and appear to many (ἐνεφανίσθησαν πολλοῖς, 27:53). In the latter, Jesus first meets the women (Ἰησοῦς ὑπήντησεν αὐταῖς, 28:9), who are going away from the empty tomb, and then, presumably after a few days, the eleven disciples see him (καὶ ἰδόντες αὐτὸν, 28:17) at a designated mountain in Galilee. Since in each case Matthew uses a different verb, the link between these narratives is not linguistic but conceptual. The primary purpose of each appearance is to convince the witnesses that the persons who have come back to life are the same persons who have previously died. With regard to the risen saints, it is worth noting with Ulrich Luz that “instead of experiencing the joy of final life with God, they go into Jerusalem, precisely where the risen Jesus will not go! The root ‘appear’ (ἐμφαν-) is reminiscent of the appearances of gods and heroes. We find ourselves not in the new eon but in this age, not in the heavenly Jerusalem but in the earthly.”51 Although Matthew’s brief report about the risen saints does not include any comment about their reception in Jerusalem, it presumes that the citizens to whom they appeared recognized them, perhaps because their bodies possessed the same characteristics as their earthly bodies. This reconstruction is corroborated by the saying in Matt 5:29–30, which recommends removing a body part that causes a person to sin because it is better to enter eternal life with a mutilated body than to be thrown into hell with a whole body. Such a conception of the resurrected body is akin to the notion in 2 Bar. 49.1–51.6, which promotes 49. See Dale C. Allison Jr., “Touching Jesus’ Feet (Matt. 28:9),” in Studies in Matthew: Interpretation Past and Present (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005), 107–16. 50. If the appearances of the risen saints in Jerusalem function as a sign of God’s coming judgment on the citizens for condemning Jesus to death, the designation “the holy city” here is deeply ironic; see Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:635; Luz, Matthew, 3:568. 51. Luz, Matthew, 3:567. Pace Wim J. C. Weren, who argues that ἐνεφανίσθησαν “would not have been necessary if the saints manifested themselves with their former physical bodies.” See Weren, “Human Body and Life beyond Death in Matthew’s Gospel,” in Nicklas, Reiterer, and Verheyden, Human Body in Death and Resurrection, 277.



The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus 365

the idea that the dead will be raised in the same form they had before death for the purpose of their recognition: “For then it will be necessary to show those who live that the dead are living again, and that those who went away have come back. And it will be that when they have recognized each other, those who know each other at this moment, then my judgement will be strong” (2 Bar. 50.3–4).52 The evangelist provides more information in his reports about Jesus’s appearances. When the women meet Jesus, their reaction shows that they recognize him at once: “they came to him, clasped his feet, and worshiped him” (28:9b). The remark that the women paid homage to Jesus, while standing in continuity with the attitude that the magi (2:11), several sick individuals (8:2; 9:18; 15:25), and the disciples (14:33) adopted toward the earthly Jesus, also underscores that the risen Jesus is worthy of veneration. The recognizability of Jesus, however, is not so evident in his appearance to the eleven disciples. Matthew reports that the disciples, like the women, worship Jesus but then adds that “some doubted” (28:17).53 The brevity of Matthew’s remark does not allow any definite conclusion about the cause of the disciples’ doubt or its possible resolution.54 This may be another example of the well-known Matthean concept of “little faith,”55 but it may also be more than that. The lack of certainty felt by some disciples vis-à-vis Jesus’s identity points to an unfamiliar trait of the risen Jesus that is probably related to his glorified appearance, to which the first reaction is reverence. Once again, Matthew’s narrative intimates 52. Translation from OTP. 53. The phrase οἱ δέ is probably partitive. See Kenneth L. McKay, “The Use of hoi de in Matthew 28.17: A Response to K. Grayson,” JSNT 24 (1985): 71–72; Pieter W. van der Horst, “Once More: The Translation of οἱ δέ in Matthew 28.17,” JSNT 27 (1986): 27–30. For the view that all the disciples believed and doubted at the same time, see Adelbert Denaux, “Matthew’s Story of Jesus’ Burial and Resurrection (Mt 27,57– 28,20),” in Resurrection in the New Testament: Festschrift J. Lambrecht, ed. Reimund Bieringer, Veronica Koperski, and Bianca Lataire, BETL 165 (Leuven: Peeters, 2002), 141. A third alternative is offered by Hagner (Matthew, 2:884–85), who takes οἱ δέ in an inclusive sense based on the Matthean usage of this construction elsewhere in the gospel, but he argues that the verb ἐδίστασαν does not refer to the disciples’ doubt of Jesus’s identity but to their hesitation and indecision regarding the meaning of the recent events. 54. Luke (24:41–43) and John (20:24–29) also mention uncertainty and doubt experienced by some disciples when they see the risen Jesus. 55. See Luz, Matthew, 3:623.

366

Lidija Novakovic

that Jesus’s resurrected body displayed both continuity and discontinuity with his earthly body. The third major point of contact between the stories of the risen saints and the risen Jesus is their christological focus. As Matt 27:54 indicates, the earthquake and other extraordinary events that took place on Good Friday were witnessed by the centurion and other Roman soldiers, who responded to them with the acclamation, “Truly this man was God’s son!” Taken by itself, this confession appears centered on Jesus’s divine sonship. In its literary context, however, this acclamation is part of Matthew’s narrative of Jesus’s crucifixion, which emphasizes the absurdity of Jesus’s messianic claim. Like other gospel writers, Matthew mentions the charge that was placed on the cross above Jesus’s head: “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews” (27:37). Jesus’s royal status is derided by the Roman soldiers, who mock him, “Hail, King of the Jews!” (27:29); the bystanders, who challenge him, “If you are God’s son, come down from the cross!” (27:40); and the Jewish leaders, who ridicule him, “He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down from the cross now, and we will believe in him” (27:42). Matthew’s tendency to combine the ideas of Jesus’s sonship and kingship, which is also evident throughout his narrative of Jesus’s earthly ministry,56 strengthens the overall impression that he seeks to present Jesus as the rightful yet rejected messianic king of Israel. If this reconstruction is accepted, the acclamation of the centurion and his companions is not only an affirmation of Jesus’s divine sonship but also an affirmation of his royal messiahship. A similar conclusion can be made about the function of the declaration of the risen Jesus to his disciples, “All authority in heaven and on earth has 56. In Matt 1:18–25, Jesus’s divine sonship primarily functions as a necessary component of Jesus’s identity as the Davidic Messiah in fulfillment of 2 Sam 7:12–16. In Matt 2:15, the quotation from Hos 11:1, “Out of Egypt I have called my son,” is applied to Jesus in the account of Herod’s murderous intent in response to his perception of Jesus’s royal credentials. In Matt 3:17 (and again in 17:5), God’s declaration, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased,” alludes to Ps 2:7, a scriptural passage that proclaims divine adoption of a new king on the occasion of his enthronement, which is in early Christian literature consistently interpreted as a messianic text. In Matt 4:1–11, Jesus’s responses to the devil, who challenges his status as the Son of God, clarify the nature of his kingship. In Peter’s confession at Caesarea Philippi (16:16), as well as in the question of the high priest at Jesus’s trial before the Sanhedrin (Matt 26:63), the title “the Son of the living God” functions as the equivalent of the “Christ [Messiah].”



The Resurrection of the Saints as a Prolepsis of the Resurrection of Jesus 367

been given to me” (28:18). I concur with Davies and Allison that this verse “implies the same conviction that is expressed in several of the NT Christological hymns, namely, that through the resurrection Jesus is exalted and made Lord of the cosmos.”57 In Matthew, however, the primitive enthronement Christology serves the purpose of promoting the idea of universal salvation, which includes both Israel and the gentiles.58 This further means that the “internal connection between the ministry of salvation to Israel and the universal dimension of salvation finds a concentrated expression in the Matthean understanding of the soteriological significance of Jesus’ death,” as Matthias Konradt persuasively argues.59 If, then, Jesus’s universal lordship and authority, which he received through his resurrection from the dead, cannot be separated from his death on the cross, the prepositional phrase μετὰ τὴν ἔγερσιν αὐτοῦ serves, albeit awkwardly, not only to give the priority to Jesus’s resurrection vis-à-vis the resurrection of the saints but also to link Jesus’s death and resurrection into one coherent event.60 Concluding Remarks Although the account of the resurrected saints reflects the earliest Christian belief that Jesus’s resurrection marked the beginning of the general resurrection, in Matthew it does not function as an anticipation of the universal resurrection of the dead. Rather, it serves as an anticipation— a prolepsis—of the resurrection of Jesus. By associating the story of the awakened saints with Jesus’s death on the cross and by adding the chronological remark that they appeared in Jerusalem after Jesus’s resurrection, Matthew gives a distinct christological focus to this narrative. Its primary purpose is not to promote eschatological hope, though it undoubtedly assumes it, but to advance the audience’s understanding of Jesus’s messianic identity. By raising the saints, God vindicated Jesus’s ministry and affirmed the cause for which he was crucified. The centurion’s acclamation that Jesus is God’s son underscores the magnitude of the divine response to Jesus’s crucifixion. 57. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:683. See also Denaux, “Matthew’s Story,” 142. 58. See Matthias Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew, trans. Kathleen Ess, BMSEC (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2014), 307–25. 59. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 307. See Gurtner’s emphasis on “the life-giving, atoning nature of Jesus’ death portrayed in the first gospel” (Torn Veil, 150). 60. Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles, 304.

368

Lidija Novakovic

Matthew’s concept of the resurrection of the saints is derived from the interpretive traditions of Ezek 37:1–14 and Zech 14:4–5 that were current among his Jewish contemporaries. It is characterized by robust physicality of the resurrected life, which is understood as a new creation that resembles the original creation. As a prolepsis of Jesus’s resurrection, this account draws attention to the uniqueness of the risen Jesus. His resurrected body could pass through solid objects, such as the stone that sealed the tomb entrance, and incited veneration. Wim Weren rightly emphasizes that “the Jesus after his resurrection is different from the Jesus who died. The resurrection involved not just coming back into a life identical with the previous one, but a transformation.”61 We should, however, not emphasize discontinuity at the expense of continuity. Matthew, like other evangelists, seeks to show that the crucified one is the risen one. This is why the witnesses of Jesus’s appearances could recognize him in the first place, but some could also doubt whether that was really him. Above all, Matthew portrays Jesus’s resurrection as his enthronement to the position of universal authority. The glorified Jesus charges his followers to proclaim universal salvation, which includes both Jews and gentiles and which has been made possible through his death. The prepositional phrase about the delayed appearances of the resurrected saints in Jerusalem, despite its awkwardness, connects the death and resurrection of Jesus together into an integrated soteriological event that fully displays Jesus’s royal messiahship. These conclusions indicate that Matthew’s narrative is not characterized by a single conception of the resurrected life. In Matt 27:51–53, he offers a story of the reanimation of corpses. In Matt 28:1–20, he offers a story of a transformed bodily life. One prefigures the other, but the two are not conceptually identical. Rather than resolving the tensions that his accounts create, Matthew exploits them for his theological purposes—to highlight the distinctiveness of Jesus’s resurrection and the position of universal power that he received after his resurrection.

61. Weren, “Human Body and Life beyond Death,” 273.

Part 5 Jewish and Gentile Reception

The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism and a Sectarian Reading of the Gospel of Matthew: The Trial of Jesus John Kampen

Recent events and analyses confirm the continuing presence and power of anti-Semitism in the modern world.1 The presence of anti-Semitism is attested already in Hellenistic Egypt and the Greek East prior to the Roman conquest.2 It is also apparent that this material is inadequate to account for the development of Christian anti-Semitism and the particular forms it took.3 John Gager notes that the arguments that find the origins of Christian anti-Semitism in these so-called pagan attitudes is a gross distortion of pagan attitudes toward Judaism and negates the fundamental differences between them and Christian approaches to Judaism.4 For the most part pagan anti-Semitism is rooted in objections to Jewish separateness, whereas in Christian literature it is identified as a problem of belief. Samuel Sandmel draws a similar conclusion: “It is simply not correct to exempt the New Testament from anti-Semitism and to allocate it to later periods of history.”5 1. Alvin H. Rosenfeld, ed., Deciphering the New Antisemitism (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2015); Anti-Defamation League, “2017 Audit of Anti-Semitic Incidents,” https://tinyurl.com/SBL4527a. 2. John G. Gager, The Origins of Anti-Semitism: Attitudes toward Judaism in Pagan and Christian Antiquity (New York: Oxford University Press, 1985), 39–54; Peter Schäfer, Judeophobia: Attitudes toward the Jews in the Ancient World (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1999), 197–211. 3. Gager, Origins of Anti-Semitism, 267–68. 4. Gager, Origins of Anti-Semitism, 35–112. 5. Samuel Sandmel, Anti-Semitism in the New Testament? (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978), 143.

-371-

372

John Kampen

In her collection of material analyzing the treatment of Jews and Judaism by reigning German New Testament scholarship at the midpoint of the twentieth century, Charlotte Klein notes four major themes: (1) the use of the term late Judaism to indicate that the religious value of the Jewish community was in its final stages in the New Testament era, (2) the law and legalistic piety, (3) the portrayal of the scribes and Pharisees, and (4) Jewish guilt in the death of Jesus.6 On the question of the treatment of Jewish law in New Testament scholarship, we are indebted to the magisterial analysis of E. P. Sanders.7 The question of the relationship to the law has been the ongoing theological issue for determining the place of Judaism in Christian theological traditions. In terms of derogatory and vicious treatment of Jews throughout Christian history, the bloodguilt of Matt 27:25 has been most ubiquitous.8 No other verse in the New Testament has been so influential in promoting the development of anti-Semitic activity. In response to Pilate washing his hands of the matter and his declaration of innocence: “All the people replied, ‘His blood be on us and on our children’ ” (CEB). In his groundbreaking work on the study of the Gospels and the development of anti-Semitism, Jules Isaac concludes his collection of statements on this verse from the Christian tradition in the following manner: “Real competition to see who will make the Jews more odious. As varied, rich, and moving as the writer of the fourth Gospel is, the honors go to Matthew— or at least to the writer of verse 25 in chapter 27; he shot the poisoned arrow, permanently embedded, with a sure hand.”9 Already in Origen (185–254) we see that the blood of Jesus will come “also over all the later generations of the Jews until the end.” He sees the destruction of Jerusalem to be the result of Jewish guilt for the death of Jesus (Origen, Cels. 2.8).10 Reflecting his clear dependence on Origen, Jerome observes: “This imprecation upon the Jews continues until the present day. The Lord’s 6. Charlotte Klein, Anti-Judaism in Christian Theology, trans. Edward Quinn (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978). 7. E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977), 33–238. 8. I have also treated the early history of this usage in “The Gospel of Matthew and the Challenge of Antisemitism,” MQR 92 (2018): 548–70. Portions are adapted here with permission. 9. Jules Isaac, Jesus and Israel, trans. Sally Gran, ed. Claire Huchet Bishop (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1971), 338. 10. See Gager, Origins of Anti-Semitism, 166. For a collection of this material on



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 373

blood will not be removed from them. This is why it says through Isaiah, ‘If you wash your hands before me, I will not listen; for your hands are full of blood.’ The Jews have left the best heritage to their children, saying: ‘His blood be upon us and on our children’ ” (Jerome, Commentariorum in Matthaeum libri IV on 27:25).11 In his commentary on Isa 1:15 he states: “He shows the reason why God turns away his eyes from them and does not listen to their lengthy prayers [see Isa 1:15a–b]: because they shed the blood of the just one, and wicked tenants have killed the heir sent to them [see Matt 21:38]” (Comm. Isa. 1.20).12 Later in that same commentary he is even harsher: “For an eternal curse remains on those who say, ‘His blood be upon us and upon our sons’ [Matt 27:25]; and God does not rule over them, nor is his name invoked upon them, so long as they are not called the people of God” (17.32). No longer does God claim the Jewish people as Israel. No other patristic writer cites Matt 27:25 as often as Jerome, thereby leaving a permanent mark on Christian teaching throughout known history.13 The low reputation of the Jews, the continual abuse to which they are subjected everywhere they live, and their scattering throughout the world are all the result of this guilt in subsequent Christian interpretation.14 Pope Innocent III apparently cited this verse in his suggestion to a nobleman that he treat Jews harshly.15 We have examples of the slaughter of Jews that are justified by the citation of Matt 27:25.16 Citing fifteen hundred years of the interpretation of Matt 27:25, see Ulrich Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007), 3:506–8. 11. Translation from Saint Jerome: Commentary on Matthew, trans. Thomas P. Scheck, FC (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 2008), 313. This passage is remarkably similar to Origen’s commentary on this verse: Origen, Der Kommentar zum Evangelium nach Matthäus, trans. and ed. Hermann J. Vogt, BGL 38 (Stuttgart: Hiersmann, 1993), 324. 12. Translations of Jerome’s Commentary on Isaiah follow Commentary on Isaiah, trans. Thomas P. Scheck, WFT 68 (New York: Newman, 2015). 13. Rainer Kampling, Das Blut Christi und die Juden: Mt 27,25 bei den lateinischsprachigen christlichen Autoren bis zu Leo dem Grossen, NTAbh 2/16 (Münster: Aschendorff, 1984), 125–73. The influence of his interpretation of this passage is then documented in Kampling, Blut Christi, 174–238. 14. Martin of Laon, in Heinz Schreckenberg, Die christlichen Adversus-JudaeosTexte (11.–13. Jh.): Mit einer Ikonographie des Judenthemas bis zum 4. Laterankonzil (Frankfurt: Lang, 1988), 281. 15. Kampling, Blut Christi, 233. 16. Kampling, Blut Christi, 223 n. 22; 232.

374

John Kampen

misery under which Jews have lived, Martin Luther explains that this will be followed by eternal damnation.17 They have lost the promise to Abraham to become a “multitude of nations” but are rather to be compared to a mob of brigands living without law or hermits, nationless and without a leader.18 In his exegesis of Ps 78:57, Luther claims that the Jews were the bow itself that killed Jesus, having no arrows since they relied on false testimony before the presiding officer. So they become the bow that kills and personally take responsibility for the death, as attested in Matt 27:25.19 In his exegesis of Ps 109:17 he cites Matt 27:25, then adds, “I am of the opinion that this is a curse which is still bearing down hard upon them.”20 In his description of the origins, development, and effects of what he has termed the “Christ-killer myth,” Jeremy Cohen identifies three types of charges of libel against Jews that appear in Western history: the ritual murder accusation, the host desecration accusation, and blood libel.21 These charges begin to surface with some vehemence in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and versions of them continue up to the present day, even though, as already mentioned, they are also present already in Greek literature prior to the beginning of the Common Era. Well-known is the myth that Christian blood was an essential ingredient in the unleavened bread used at the Passover Seder. Versions of this myth appear on a regular basis into the twentieth century, now to be repeated in selected accounts by Arab writers who are hostile to Jews.22 The account of William of Norwich is often regarded as the first charge of the ritual murder libel in medieval Europe. In a book based on the account of twelve-year old William, who was taken from his home by a man posing as the representation of the archbishop and whose body, slain and abused, showed up a few days later at the edge of town, Thomas of Monmouth develops the story of William serving as a Passover sacrifice for the local Jewish community and demonstrates the manner in which this fits into a general pattern of 17. Luz, Matthew, 3:507 (citing Martin Luther, “Passio,” WA 52:791). 18. Martin Luther, Lectures on Genesis, ed. Jaroslav Pelikan, LW 3 (Saint Louis: Concordia, 1961), 113, on Gen 17:3–6. 19. Martin Luther, First Lectures on the Psalms II, ed. Hilton C. Oswald, LW 11 (Saint Louis: Concordia, 1976), 42, on Ps 78:9. 20. Martin Luther, Selected Psalms III, ed. Jaroslav Pelikan, LW 14 (Saint Louis: Concordia, 1958), 267, on Ps 109:17. 21. Jeremy Cohen, Christ Killers: The Jews and the Passion from the Bible to the Big Screen (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 93–117. 22. Cohen, Christ Killers, 115–17.



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 375

Jewish behavior and belief.23 Cohen traces the impact of the continuing presence of this myth in religious art, theater, and movies, including the Oberammergau passion play.24 A simple examination of the statement in its original context is instructive, though grossly inadequate, to account for its subsequent usage and influence. Prior to addressing this question, it is necessary to recall the broader perspectives on anti-Semitism in the New Testament, which affect this discussion. Groundbreaking was the research of Rosemary Radford Reuther’s Faith and Fratricide, when she identified with great precision and detail the adversus Judaeos tradition in the church fathers.25 This would have had minimal impact on biblical studies had she not also demonstrated the manner in which elements of this tradition had their origin within the texts of the New Testament. A different argument getting at the same problem was advanced by Burton Mack. Placing responsibility on the Gospel of Mark, he argued that the Cynic Jesus was replaced by the Christian Messiah, thereby creating a worldview that leads to violence, imperialism, and colonial oppression: “This sorry plot [of the Gospel of Mark] lies at the very foundations of the long, ugly history of the Christian attitudes and actions towards the Jews and Judaism.”26 Of course, for Mack, Matthew is an immediate successor to that infamous story. The adversus Judaeus arguments, the Crusades, and the Holocaust all developed from this basis. John Dominic Crossan advances the case laid out by Mack and Reuther. For Crossan, blaming anti-Judaism on misinterpretation is not ethically acceptable. “It is not just a question of how the passion narratives were misused or misread but of what they were in the first place.”27 These narratives 23. Cohen, Christ Killers, 95–109. See also the more general treatment of more recent literature in Klein, Anti-Judaism in Christian Theology, 92–126, 150–55. 24. Cohen, Christ Killers, 185–253. 25. Rosemary Radford Ruether, “Anti-Judaism is the Left Hand of Chistology,” in Jewish-Christian Relations, ed. Robert Heyer (New York: Paulist, 1974), 1–9; Ruether, Faith and Fratricide: The Theological Roots of Anti-Semitism (New York: Seabury, 1974), 65; Ruether, “The Faith and Fratricide Discussion: Old Problems and New Dimension,” in Antisemitism and the Foundations of Christianity, ed. Alan T. Davies (New York: Paulist, 1979), 230–56; Ruether, To Change the World: Christology and Cultural Criticism (New York: Crossroad, 1981), 31–43. 26. Burton Mack, A Myth of Innocence: Mark and Christian Origins (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1988), 375. 27. John Dominic Crossan, Who Killed Jesus? Exposing the Roots of Anti-Semitism in the Gospel Story of the Death of Jesus (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1995), 36.

376

John Kampen

were, and remain, for Crossan fundamentally complicit in the genocidal ideology that emerged in their name; these stories sent people out to kill, and they must be confronted directly and forthrightly.28 Confronting the blood-libel charge necessitates an examination of the Gospel of Matthew. Anti-Semitism and the Gospel of Matthew The treatment of this problem in the study and use of Matthew by New Testament scholars has tended toward two poles primarily based on each interpreter’s understanding of the social location related to the book.29 On the one hand are those who understand the relationship of the Matthean community to Jewish society to be extra muros; the decisive break with Judaism has already occurred, and Matthew is charting a new course for the followers of Jesus while defining its relationship to that which it has left behind.30 Within the trajectory of this argument certain scholars, such as Michael Cook and Herbert Basser, regard the authorship of Matthew to be gentile addressing a gentile church making an argument against crucial 28. Note his earlier, more extensive study: John Dominic Crossan, The Cross That Spoke: The Origins of the Passion Narrative (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988). 29. Anders Runesson, “Re-thinking Early Jewish-Christian Relations: Matthean Community History as Pharisaic Intra-group Conflict,” JBL 127 (2008): 95–98; Terence L. Donaldson, Jews and Anti-Judaism in the New Testament: Decision Points and Divergent Interpretations (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2010), 48–50, 53–54. 30. Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew, Interpretation (Louisville: John Knox, 1993); Donald A. Hagner, “The Sitz im Leben of the Gospel of Matthew,” in Treasures New and Old: Recent Contributions to Matthean Studies, ed. David R. Bauer and Mark Allan Powell (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1996), 27–68; Ulrich Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007), 1:52–56; for his later statements, Luz, “Matthew: Apostate, Reformer, Revolutionary?,” NTS 49 (2003): 193–209; Donald A. Hagner, “Matthew: Christian Judaism or Jewish Christianity?,” in The Face of New Testament Studies: A Survey of Recent Research, ed. Scot McKnight and Grant R. Osborne (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2004), 263–82; Paul Foster, Community, Law and Mission in Matthew’s Gospel, WUNT 2/177 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004); Robert H. Gundry, “Matthew: Jewish-Christian or Christian-Jewish? At an Intersection of Sociology and Theology,” in The Old Is Better: New Testament Essays in Support of Traditional Interpretations, ed. Gundry (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005), 111–19; Roland Deines, “Not the Law but the Messiah: Law and Righteousness in the Gospel of Matthew,” in Built upon the Rock: Studies in the Gospel of Matthew, ed. Daniel M. Gurtner and John J. Nolland (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 53–84.



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 377

Jewish elements in its own heritage and arguing against any ongoing connection to Judaism.31 Arguing for an intra muros position in which the Matthean community is viewed as still being a part of Jewish society were a group of scholars who invested particularly in the social-science approach to biblical studies and were engaged in, or at least influenced by, the changing evaluation of major issues in Jewish history of the Greco-Roman period based on the application of more critical theories to the literary evidence and on archaeological work carried out primarily in Galilee but throughout what is modern-day Israel and Palestine.32 While it would be convenient if the 31. Michael J. Cook, “Interpreting ‘Pro-Jewish’ Passages in Matthew,” HUCA 54 (1983): 135–46; Cook, Modern Jews Engage the New Testament: Enhancing Jewish Well-Being in a Christian Environment (Woodstock, VT: Jewish Lights, 2008), 192– 209; Herbert W. Basser, The Gospel of Matthew and Judaic Traditions: A RelevanceBased Commentary, BRLJ 46 (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 19–21. A similar point of view, even though not specifically rooted in a gentile reading of the First Gospel, is the argument of Amy-Jill Levine, “Jesus Talks Back,” in A Legacy of Learning: Essays in Honor of Jacob Neusner, ed. Alan J. Avery-Peck, Bruce Chilton, William Scott Green, and Gary G. Porton, BRLJ 43 (Leiden: Brill, 2014), 282–98. 32. J. Andrew Overman, Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism: The Social World of the Matthean Community (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1990); Alan F. Segal, “Matthew’s Jewish Voice,” in Social History of the Matthean Community: Cross-Disciplinary Approaches, ed. David L. Balch (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991), 3–37; Anthony J. Saldarini, “The Gospel of Matthew and Jewish-Christian Conflict,” in Balch, Social History, 38–61; Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, CSHJ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994); J. Andrew Overman, Church and Community in Crisis: The Gospel according to Matthew, NTC (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1996); David C. Sim, The Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism: The History and Social Setting of the Matthean Community (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998); Boris Repschinski, The Controversy Stories in the Gospel of Matthew: Their Redaction, Form and Relevance for the Relationship between the Matthean Community and Formative Judaism, FRLANT 189 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000); Aaron M. Gale, Redefining Ancient Boundaries: The Jewish Scribal Framework of Matthew’s Gospel (New York: T&T Clark, 2005); Runesson, “Re-thinking Early Jewish-Christian Relations”; Anders Runesson, “Behind the Gospel of Matthew: Radical Pharisees in Post-war Galilee?,” CurTM 37 (2010): 460–71; David C. Sim, “Matthew: The Current State of Research,” in Mark and Matthew I: Comparative Readings; Understanding the Earliest Gospels in Their First-Century Settings, ed. Eve-Marie Becker and Anders Runesson, WUNT 271 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 33–51; Matthias Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew, trans. Kathleen Ess, BMSEC (Waco, TX: Baylor University, 2013); Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016).

378

John Kampen

argument could be made that the extent to which the gospel is considered to be extra muros it constitutes a more substantive anti-Semitic rhetoric, such is not the case if it is evaluated according to the scholars who hold these respective views. The issue of anti-Semitism tends to rest with views on how the question of the gentiles is addressed in the First Gospel rather than with the identity of the author. On the other hand, there also is a significant strand of Matthean scholarship arguing that the composition is not fundamentally anti-Semitic. In recent years that has sometimes been identified with scholars who hold to the intra muros tradition identified above, even though not exclusively. Anders Runesson is a recent advocate of such a view, arguing that Matthew represents one wing in a break within the Pharisaic movement.33 Significant was the work of Anthony Saldarini.34 He suggested that Matthew was composed within the Jewish community by a group of torah-observant Jews who believed in Jesus. This was a deviant group within the Jewish community who engaged in bitter and vitriolic debate with other portions of that same group. It is a sophisticated investigation of the social dynamics of the Jewish community at the end of the first century, with the consequential argument that this vitriolic material got a different and more sinister interpretation in the second and third centuries, which resulted in the devastating results evident in subsequent historical development. A similar argument is advanced, perhaps for more confessional reasons, in the volume of Craig Evans and Donald Hagner explicitly treating the issues of anti-Semitism in the early Christian texts from an evangelical perspective.35 The fundamental argument is that the composition cannot be regarded as anti-Semitic if it constitutes a debate within the Jewish community. The New Testament writings, here Matthew, are off the hook with regard to responsibility for what happens in later Christian history. The direction Christianity took is an aberration, not evident in these materials that reflect its origins. It is not clear to me that either position is an adequate explanation to account for the development of anti-Semitism in the Western world, as if there could be a singular explanation. In the treatment of the text in its 33. Runesson, “Re-thinking Early Jewish-Christian Relations.” 34. Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community. 35. Craig A. Evans and Donald A. Hagner, eds., Anti-Semitism and Early Christianity: Issues of Polemic and Faith (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1993). See also Richard B. Gardner, Matthew, BCBC (Scottdale, PA: Herald, 1991), 417–18.



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 379

original context with regard to the question at hand, the simple question of whether this is a Jewish composition and the anti-Jewish elements are a later misreading, or whether it is a gentile composition addressing issues within the early Christian movement, is important but inadequate. I propose that it is rather in the vitriolic rhetoric of a sectarian group making its case within Jewish society that we find the origins of the particular developments of anti-Judaism and anti-Semitism that emerge in the life and literature of its successors. The Basis for a Sectarian Reading In order to advance this analysis of Matthew as a sectarian composition, it is necessary to focus attention on those portions of the text that either in content or in literary structure are unique to Matthew within the Synoptic Gospels.36 The Sermon on the Mount is a substantive statement of this particular author, not present in Mark, with evidence of only limited parallels. While more literary parallels can be demonstrated with Luke and the Q source, its distinctive literary structure is not represented there. The sermon’s placement near the beginning of the composition marks its importance for identifying major emphases integral to the composition as a whole. Some of these same emphases reappear with particular force in Matt 23, setting the context for the climactic account of the trial. The distinctive treatment of Jesus as exclusive wisdom in Matt 11 places it within the trajectory of the development of sectarian wisdom that can be identified in the sectarian texts of the Dead Sea Scrolls.37 The distinctive treatment of the torah is much more familiar when examined in the context of the literature of Palestinian Jews, particularly its sectarian manifestations.38 The issue in the treatment of law is not the validity of torah as a whole, a later Christian question, but rather the debate about the particu-

36. The following discussion of Matthew and sectarianism is developed in greater depth in John Kampen, Matthew within Sectarian Judaism: An Examination (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2019), 38–67. 37. John I. Kampen, “Wisdom in Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literatures,” in Canonicity, Setting, Wisdom in the Deuterocanonicals: Papers of the Jubilee Meeting of the International Conference on Deuterocanonical Books, ed. Géza G. Xeravits, József Zsengellér, and Xavér Szabó (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2014), 89–119. See also Kampen, Matthew within Sectarian Judaism, 113–30. 38. Kampen, Matthew within Sectarian Judaism, 68–112.

380

John Kampen

lar requirements of its observance, a subject of continuous debate between Jewish groups, including sects, in the first century. An adequate definition of sect and an evaluation of the sociological methods employed in the study of this phenomenon in antiquity has been the subject of continuing debate.39 While there are a number of analysts who provide similar or related definitions, I will adopt the definition of Albert Baumgarten, who follows up from Rodney Stark and William Bainbridge’s emphasis on the opposition of these groups to prevailing views. It is their sociological analysis of modern new religious movements that has been applied to the study of sectarianism, particularly in the analysis of the social movement associated with the Dead Sea Scrolls and other Jewish groups of the Second Temple era.40 Baumgarten’s definition follows: “a voluntary association of protest, which utilizes boundary marking mechanisms—the social means of differentiating between insiders and outsiders—to distinguish between its own members and those otherwise normally regarded as belonging to the same national or religious entity.”41 In addition to adherence to the same national or religious entity, Shaye Cohen had noted that the sect “asserts that it alone embodies the ideals of the larger group because it alone understands God’s will.”42 Noting that the conflict has its basis in the claims of the deviant group to represent the ideals or beliefs of the dominant body is important for our comprehension 39. For an examination of the early proposals related to Matthew, see John I. Kampen, “The Sectarian Form of the Antitheses within the Social World of the Matthean Community,” DSD 1 (1994): 338–63. For an extensive evaluation of the issues surrounding Qumran and its texts, see Jutta M. Jokiranta, “ ‘Sectarianism’ of the Qumran ‘Sect’: Sociological Notes,” RevQ 20 (2001): 223–39; David J. Chalcraft, ed., Sectarianism in Early Judaism: Sociological Advances (London: Equinox, 2007); Jutta M. Jokiranta, Social Identity and Sectarianism in the Qumran Movement, STDJ 105 (Leiden: Brill 2013); Jokiranta, “Sociological Approaches to Qumran Sectarianism,” in The Oxford Handbook of the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Timothy H. Lim and John J. Collins (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 200–231. 40. Rodney Stark and William Sims Bainbridge, The Future of Religion: Secularization, Revival and Cult Formation (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985); Stark and Bainbridge, A Theory of Religion, TSR (New York: Lang, 1987). For their utilization in the study of the materials from Qumran, see in particular Jokiranta, Social Identity and Sectarianism, 17–76. 41. Albert I. Baumgarten, The Flourishing of Jewish Sects in the Maccabean Era: An Interpretation, JSJSup 55 (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 7. 42. Shaye J. D. Cohen, From the Maccabees to the Mishnah, 3rd ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2014), 125.



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 381

of this social phenomenon. One of the issues that plagued earlier studies of sectarianism during this period was the inability to identify with any precision the nature and beliefs of that dominant group. The precise nature of the social structure of Jewish society in the late Second Temple period, particularly the ability to identify with any specificity its dominant beliefs and practices, has been elusive. Baumgarten’s definition does not require the precise identification of the dominant body since it highlights the “boundary marking mechanisms” of the group itself, thereby permitting the analyst to find the distinction between the group and its opposition within the sectarian literature rather than basing it on the description of that larger national or religious entity. Such an approach accords with social-identity theory, already identified by Saldarini, where behavior and understanding are the result, initially, of the norms, values, and beliefs of the group itself.43 The perspectives of Stark and Bainbridge were brought into Qumran studies particularly through the work of Jutta Jokiranta, with some ongoing analysis of the manner in which the category of sect has been employed in the study of that literature.44 Her careful analysis of the sociological definitions of the term suggests that the best candidates to use as criteria for sectarianism are the tension with the sociocultural environment and the tendency to view oneself as uniquely legitimate or to establish boundaries against another.45 Stark and Bainbridge’s understanding of sect formation as a type of subcultural deviance consists of three elements: difference, antagonism, and separation.46 Difference indicates the extent to which the behaviors and practices of the group vary from the average members of the population or from the standards of the powerful members of the society. In other words, sectarians follow deviant norms of behavior. Separation concerns the extent to which there is a restriction of social relations to mainly in-group members. Group norms and activities or 43. Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 84–123. See also Philip F. Esler, The First Christians in Their Social Worlds: Social-Scientific Approaches to New Testament Interpretation (London: Routledge, 1994). 44. For their utilization in the study of the materials from Qumran see in particular Jokiranta, Social Identity and Sectarianism, 17–76; Jokiranta, “Sociological Approaches.” See also George W. E. Nickelsburg, Ancient Judaism and Christian Origins: Diversity, Continuity, and Transformation (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003), 181–82 and the notes to that discussion (243–44). 45. Jokiranta, “ ‘Sectarianism’ of the Qumran ‘Sect,’ ” 228–30, 236–39. 46. Stark and Bainbridge, Future of Religion, 49–67.

382

John Kampen

simply devotion to the group may restrict the social relations of the members so that contacts and relations to outsiders are reduced. Antagonism is represented in the attitudes toward other religious groups or society, usually expressed in particularistic beliefs denying the legitimacy of competing groups. This normally results in the sect’s rejection by these other groups, usually understood as ideological differences.47 These three are not to be understood as independent axes or dimensions each capable of separate evaluation, but rather are the interdependent categories by which tension is created and sustained.48 The characteristics of separation and difference are apparent in the rhetoric of sectarian formation prior to Matt 21. The Sermon on the Mount, the treatment of law, the treatment of the wisdom tradition and the portrayal of Jesus as Wisdom, the communal discipline texts, and other features all demonstrate these characteristics of sectarian formation and identity.49 Within a narrative structure, the level of conflict tends to escalate, so the sectarian characteristic of antagonism is most evident as the narrative moves into the trial and the execution. All three of these elements combine to depict a firstcentury Jewish sect exhibiting a high level of tension with surrounding Jewish coreligionists. An examination of these most distinctive sections suggests a Jewish sectarian group in debate with other Jewish groups, some sectarian, represented in part by the names we know from Josephus and early rabbinic literature, such as Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes. However, contrary to those scholars who viewed Second Temple Jewish life to be composed only of a variety of sectarian groups, I accept the caution of Sanders, who notes that these groups were limited in size, that a knowledge of all of these bodies does not give us an understanding of the first century as it would have been experienced by most Jews.50 The population as a whole did not have to make a decision concerning adherence to one of these three groups. Josephus, who tends to exaggerate numbers, claims more than six thousand Pharisees at the time of Herod (A.J. 17.42) and four thousand 47. Jutta M. Jokiranta, “Social-Scientific Approaches to the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Rediscovering the Dead Sea Scrolls: An Assessment of Old and New Approaches and Methods, ed. Maxine L. Grossman (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 250. 48. Stark and Bainbridge, Future of Religion, 66. 49. I have treated this extensively in Kampen, Matthew within Sectarian Judaism. 50. E. P. Sanders, Judaism: Practice and Belief, 63 B.C.E.–66 C.E. (London: SCM, 1994), 402.



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 383

Essenes in the first century (A.J. 18.20; see Philo, Prob. 75). They along with the followers of Jesus for whom Matthew is written should rather be understood within the social and religious context Sanders described as “common Judaism.” For Sanders this is defined as “what the priests and the people agreed on,”51 with Josephus suggesting more than twenty thousand priests (C. Ap. 2.108).52 It is within this context that the rival groups described in Josephus and other Second Temple literature contested for power and influence in the Jewish communities in which they resided. A Sectarian Reading of the Trial and Execution Narrative In my understanding of the First Gospel, the trial and execution constitute one section of the narrative that begins at 21:1, “When they had come near Jerusalem, and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives,” and concludes at the end of chapter 27, with the story unique to Matthew about the guards at the tomb.53 An outline of the contents of the First Gospel is not a simple matter. Earlier scholarship that identified a pentateuchal structure for the gospel found an eschatological discourse with a focus on judgment beginning at 19:1 and then a concluding section that begins at 26:1. In this case the diatribes of chapter 23 are seen as a different literary section of the composition from the trial and crucifixion of chapters 26–27.54 While also admitting the impossibility of identifying a discernible coherent structure for the composition as a whole, Evans has in his outline titled the final 51. Sanders, Judaism: Practice and Belief, 47 (see also 11–12 in the introduction). He develops his understanding of what this entailed in Judaism, 47–303. He already is referring to “a common, underlying feature” of Judaism in the Second Temple period in Jewish Law from Jesus to the Mishnah: Five Studies (London: SCM, 1990), 359–60 n. 6. 52. The organization into four tribes in this description appears to reflect Ezra 2:36 and Neh 7:39; however, elsewhere he refers to the twenty-four priestly courses (A.J. 7.363–367), which coincides with the descriptions outlined in rabbinic literature. Josephus bases this on the descriptions in 1 Chr 23–24, in which the author lists thirty-eight thousand Levites. 53. Craig A. Evans, Matthew, NCBC (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 10. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations are my own. 54. See the discussions in W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel According to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 1:58–72; Donald A. Hagner, Matthew, WBC 33 (Dallas: Word, 1993–1995), 1:l–liii.

384

John Kampen

section “The Rejection and Vindication of the Messiah,” beginning at 21:1, “When they had come near Jerusalem.”55 I concur that the turn toward Jerusalem is a good point of transition for this section of the text, including chapters 23 and 26–27. While the departure from Galilee is noted at 19:1, and this marks a significant transition, it is 21:1 that marks the shift to the final conflicts, the climax, of the composition. It is in this section that the depiction of the forces at work in this first-century Jewish community coalesces in a comprehensive portrayal of the social world reflecting the perspective of these followers of Jesus. I do distinguish this section from the concluding postresurrection narrative of chapter 28, thereby not accepting Evans’s title for that portion. This is a narrative about the trial and execution of a Jewish rebel, told from the vantage point of the community that rose up after his death. The mandate for his followers, which emerged as a consequence of his life and death, a separate topic, is summarized with some specificity in Matt 28. In my reading the escalation of the conflict begins with the entry into Jerusalem (21:1–11). It is this account that leads Jesus straight into the conflicts in the temple, where all of the various leadership groups of the Jewish community appear, including the chief priests, the elders, the Pharisees, and the Sadducees. This transition highlights a turn in the narrative to a deeper level of conflict and its climax. Through an allusion to Zech 9:9, the entry into Jerusalem is described as that of the divine ruler bringing peace to Israel as all of the surrounding nations are disarmed. “All of the city was agitated [ἐσείσθη]” by his entrance (21:10), according to this account. From a sectarian perspective his entrance had been a notable action of disruption that caught the attention of all, “the crowds” in verse 12. From the standpoint of a sectarian analysis, this is the introductory episode to this section of 21:1–27:66 throughout which the element of antagonism is most apparent in the text. The description of this disturbance leads immediately into the narrative of the next disruption, the temple incident. In both accounts of disruption, the level of conflict with the Jewish leadership is heightened. The citation of additional texts from the Hebrew Bible such as Zech 9:9 in Matt 21:5 and Ps 8:2 in Matt 21:16 suggests the appeal to authority in the context of dispute. The addition of Matt 21:14–16 to the account in Mark also has two interesting features. First, he heals the blind and the 55. Evans, Matthew, 10.



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 385

lame who come to him in the midst of this episode. Throughout the First Gospel this activity is used to demonstrate the authority and power that the divine has rested in Jesus at this particular time in the history of Israel. Note the manner in which this activity is cited as the answer to John the Baptist (11:2–6), an account that points back to the popularity and results of his initial public ministry after the baptism and temptation stories but prior to the Sermon on the Mount (4:23–25). Into this reference reminding the sectarian reader of the popularity and authority of Jesus’s work is inserted an allusion to the chief priests and scribes who are upset by τὰ θαυμάσια (the amazing things) that he did, and the children repeating the earlier verse from the account of the entry, “Hosanna to the Son of David.” This section of the narrative opens with a clear indication of the escalation of the conflict. The sectarian reader would then have understood the following account of the cursing of the fig tree in this same perspective (21:18–22). The subsequent discourse on faith enjoins the members of the sectarian body to trust that God has given authority and power to Jesus, hence to this body of followers. This is a crucial assertion within the sectarian context in which this body of followers is assured of God’s victory against the arrayed leadership of Jewish society as presented in this narrative. Of course, the questioning of his authority by the Jewish leadership is the subject of the next account (21:23–27). The level of antagonism with that leadership demonstrated in the text of this author informs the identity of the sectarian members about their place in that Jewish society, in opposition to the leadership but following the will of God for the Jewish people and thereby indicating the hope for a Jewish future. The parable of the two sons is a continuation of the discussion of authority,56 hence in my reading advances the process of sectarian selfdefinition characteristic of this unit (21:28–32). Found only in Matthew, it continues by pointing to John the Baptist, already cited in verses 25–27 above and implicit in verse 14. Identified with the obedient son are the tax collectors and the harlots. What is being advanced here is not an argument for a type of universalism in opposition to a narrow definition of election.57 These are not gentiles, even though their roles could be understood to be related to the Roman occupation.58 The parable has been applied to the 56. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:171–72; Ulrich Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007), 3:26. 57. Evans, Matthew, 368. 58. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:169.

386

John Kampen

Jewish rejection and gentile acceptance of Jesus.59 Elsewhere in Matthew we find references to the tax collectors and sinners, a term also found in parallel accounts in Mark and Luke (Matt 9:10–11; 11:19; Mark 2:15–16; Luke 5:30; 15:1).60 However, the use of the term πόρναι (harlots) is found only in Matthew. This usage, unique among the Synoptics, also suggests another usage peculiar to Matthew, πορνεία (fornication), the exception clause in the prohibition against divorce in Matt 5:31 and 19:9. Elsewhere I have demonstrated that the latter term refers to the violation of the boundaries of acceptable sectarian behavior, admittedly some of which concerned sexual mores.61 Definitions of marriage, divorce, and incest were important boundary markers in the sectarian regulations of the Second Temple era. The equation of sinners and harlots in a sectarian worldview seems likely. But in this case the parable relates to the status of the Jesus group in contrast to the local (and perhaps national) Jewish aristocracy. The imagery of the tax collectors and harlots points to those on the margins of Jewish society, in this case making a point about the identity of those within the sect, those who are taking the steps necessary for entry into the kingdom of God. Within the sectarian presentation of Matthew, the tax collectors and the harlots (or sinners) serve the same function as the children and the lost in Matt 18:1–14; 19:13–15; and 21:15.62 The authority, and the knowledge, of knowing the will of God for the Jewish people rests with the members of the sect rather than the leadership. It is this knowledge that is necessary for the understanding of the Jewish future. An advance in the level of antagonism demonstrated through the narrative is apparent in the parables that follow these initial accounts. John Kloppenborg has analyzed these parables to demonstrate that the level of lethal violence attributed to the divine and to agents of the divine increases in Matthew’s editing of these accounts in Mark and Q.63 There 59. Luz, Matthew, 3:32. 60. An interesting variation appears in Luke 5:29, “tax collectors and others.” 61. John Kampen, “The Matthean Divorce Texts Reexamined,” in New Qumran Texts and Studies: Proceedings of the First Meeting of the International Organization for Qumran Studies, Paris 1992, ed. George J. Brooke and Florentino García Martínez, STDJ 15 (Leiden: Brill, 1994), 149–67. 62. John Kampen, “The Social World of the Matthean Community,” in Communal Life in the Early Church: Essays Honoring Graydon F. Snyder, ed. Julian V. Hills (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 1998), 158–74. 63. John S. Kloppenborg, “The Representation of Violence in the Synoptic Parables,” in Mark and Matthew I: Comparative Readings; Understanding the Earliest



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 387

is an increase in the disconnection between the realistic scenarios of the parables and the metamessage Matthew wished to install in these parables. While Mark has one parable (Mark 12:1–9), Matthew has created a triptych of three, including the parable of the two sons. The other two are the parable of the tenants (21:33–46) and the banquet (22:1–10, 11–14). The escalation of the violence is apparent in the second parable with the killing of the son (21:39) and in the third with the murder of his slaves (22:6). In both of the latter instances the perpetrators are put to death (21:41, 22:7). In a sectarian reading of these two parables, it is the sectarian founder who is put to death in the second. In the case of Matthew, that then is what the members of the sect can have some expectation to be their fate. Similarly, it is in the slaves of the third parable that the members of the sect are shown what might happen in the future, before God’s direct intervention in human affairs. In these parables this intervention is portrayed through the death of the perpetrators of the murders. The sectarian characteristic of antagonism is evident and functions in a formative manner in support of a sectarian identity. This antagonism is directed toward all the Jewish leadership groups who are portrayed as in opposition against this sect, including in Matt 21–22 the chief priests, the elders of the people, the Pharisees, and the Sadducees. The Pharisees and the Sadducees appear in the accounts following the parables just discussed with questions intended to trap Jesus into making false and self-incriminating statements. It is these conflicts that escalate into the diatribes of chapter 23 with a particular focus on the scribes and Pharisees. Presumably they were the leading opponents of the sect, perhaps even the primary leadership group within the Jewish community in which these followers of Jesus were located. Note the mention of the Pharisees in Matt 22:34 in contrast to “one of the scribes” in Mark 12:28. The final story similarly is addressed to the Pharisees in Matt 22:41, whereas in Mark 12:35 the setting for the discussion is “as Jesus taught in the temple.” The Pharisees appear again in the account of the guards at the end of the trial; in other words, they have been there all along, as the story is told in Matthew (Matt 27:62– 66). In contrast to the other Synoptic accounts, where the Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the scribes drop out of the story as we approach the trial, Matthew includes the major diatribe of chapter 23 against the scribes and

Gospels in Their First Century Settings, ed. Eve-Marie Becker and Anders Runesson, WUNT 271 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 343–50.

388

John Kampen

Pharisees. The entire socioreligious leadership of the Jewish community as perceived by the followers of Jesus at the end of the first century after the destruction of the temple is brought into the narrative of the trial. The third characteristic of sectarian identity is evident in this portion of the narrative. The level of antagonism that Matthew demonstrates toward the leadership of the remainder of the Jewish community is evident in the climax of the story. Chapter 23 needs to be set within the context of the preceding two chapters just discussed and the following chapters, which are of an apocalyptic nature (24–25). The prediction of the destruction of the temple (24:1–2) and a coming persecution (24:9–14) are followed by an eschatological scenario based on the desolating sacrilege of Dan 9–12 and the appointment of the son of man in Dan 7:13–27. Matthew employs this imagery not simply because of an interest in apocalyptic chronology.64 It is much more likely that Matthew interpreted the material in Daniel on the basis of an identification of a similarity between the events related to the temple and Jerusalem from 66–70 CE and those that occurred under Antiochus Epiphanes in 167–164 BCE. As described in Dan 12:1–12, only a very particular group of the pious would survive the onslaught. The importance of their sectarian identity and solidarity, emphasized throughout the parables on watchfulness and obedience, is based on developing an understanding of their place and role at this crucial point in Jewish history. The climax of the conflict commences with the return of the chief priests and elders of the people into the story (Matt 26:3–5). The sectarian reader is prepared to understand the significance of the claim that now receives authentication through the testimony of witnesses, “I am able to destroy the temple of God and to build it in three days” (26:61). When we turn our attention to the account describing the arrest, the trial, and the execution, we need to remember that it is an account told by the author of the First Gospel, informed in part by the known traditions saved and recorded by the early records of the Christian community such as the Gospel of Mark, and other traditions known to or at least preserved by this author. Prior to an examination of the Matthean account in detail, 64. David C. Sim, Apocalyptic Eschatology in the Gospel of Matthew, SNTSMS 88 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 156–69; Grant Macaskill, Revealed Wisdom and Inaugurated Eschatology in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity, JSJSup 115 (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 161–74.



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 389

it is necessary to recall that historical examination of the accounts of the trial and execution demonstrates that Jesus was executed in a manner reserved for persons regarded as rebels or revolutionaries against the Roman Empire.65 The evidence that this action was carried out on the initiative of the Jewish ruling aristocracy, including the high priesthood and the Sanhedrin, is much more suspect.66 Their role in the original historical event is difficult to determine.67 What can be evaluated is the manner in which each gospel portrays this event which each regarded as pivotal in the formation of this new movement. One of the distinctive features of the Matthean account is the greater attention given to the figure of Judas. With his first mention in the account of the trial, the motive of money is attributed to him by Matthew (26:14– 16).68 It follows immediately after the story of the anointing of Jesus by the woman at Bethany, in which money also is an issue (26:6–13). The announcement of the betrayal at the Passover meal follows almost immediately thereafter (26:20–29). This account is enhanced beyond the Markan parallel with the addition of verse 25: “Judas, who betrayed him, said, ‘Surely not I, teacher.’69 He replied, ‘You have said so’ ” (NRSV, modified). While the distinguishing characteristic of Judas at this point in the story in Mark is that he is one of the Twelve (Mark 14:20), in Matthew 65. Ellis Rivkin, What Crucified Jesus? The Political Execution of a Charismatic (Nashville: Abingdon, 1984); Crossan, Cross That Spoke; Richard A. Horsley, “The Death of Jesus,” in Studying the Historical Jesus: Evaluations of the State of Current Research, ed. Bruce Chilton and Craig A. Evans, NTTSD 19 (Leiden: Brill, 1994), 395–422; Crossan, Who Killed Jesus?; James S. McLaren, “Exploring the Execution of a Provincial: Adopting a Roman Perspective on the Death of Jesus,” ABR 49 (2001): 5–28; James D. G. Dunn, Jesus Remembered, CM 1 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 784–85; Michael J. Cook, “The Problem of Jewish Jurisprudence and the Trial of Jesus,” in Pondering the Passion: What’s at Stake for Christians and Jews, ed. Philip Cunningham (Lanham, MD: Sheed & Ward, 2004), 13–25; John Clabeaux, “Why Was Jesus Executed? History and Faith,” in Cunningham, Pondering the Passion, 27–40; Matthew L. Skinner, The Trial Narratives: Conflict, Power, and Identity in the New Testament (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2010), 13–32. 66. The questions about trial procedures related to talmudic law were examined most extensively by Paul Winter, On the Trial of Jesus, 2nd ed., rev. and ed. T. Alec Burkill and Geza Vermes (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1974). 67. Cook, Modern Jews Engage, 121–48. 68. Overman, Church and Community, 361. 69. This is the more accurate translation of the Greek term rabbi, since the formal title was not yet in use in the first century.

390

John Kampen

the betrayal takes on an intense personal focus. In Matthew the account of the suicide of Judas rounds out this portrait (27:3–10).70 The description of the event is based on the rather bizarre polemic of Zech 11:12–14 against the corrupt religious and political Israelite leadership, incorrectly ascribed to Jeremiah by Matthew, probably with reference to the potter in Jer 18:2–3 and the purchase of the field in Jer 32:6–15, perhaps also to the breaking of the pot in Jer 19:10–11.71 In the hermeneutical style of the First Gospel, this is listed as one of the fulfillment texts. The story of Judas is included as part of the sectarian critique of the Jewish leadership, which is fundamental to the conflict of this section. This figure’s more extensive usage in Matthew is employed in the service of representing the high level of antagonism evident toward these leadership structures. This dramatic portrayal of Judas serves one other function; it reinforces the necessity of group solidarity. In his study of the earlier parables in this literary unit, Kloppenborg notes the manner in which the violence of some of the parables is directed against what he calls “underperformers” within the group.72 He notes the manner in which the motif of “weeping and gnashing of teeth” has been adopted from Q and then employed in more violent imagery in Matthew. To that imagery is added “to be cast into outer darkness.” For example, in the parable of the wedding banquet, the man without the wedding garment is to be bound hand and foot and then cast into outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth (22:13). In Luke, in contrast, this episode is not present in the narrative, and those invited who had excuses simply will not participate in the banquet (Luke 14:15–24). In a parallel account attributed to Joḥanan ben Zakkai, those not adequately prepared are simply shamed (b. Shabb. 153a). Elsewhere Matthew employs the same imagery with regard to the insiders in 24:51 and 25:31. In 24:51 the one cast out is also called a “hypocrite,” linking the errant insider with the despised outsiders of Matt 23. A sectarian body faces the problem of group solidarity. For example, in 1QS IV, 2–26 are spelled out the consequences of the cosmic and national dimensions of the dualistic conception of the universe undergirding sectarian ideology

70. His death is recounted in a different manner by the author of Luke in Acts 1:16–20. 71. Gerard S. Sloyan, Jesus on Trial: A Study of the Gospels, 2nd ed. (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2006), 62. 72. Kloppenborg, “Representation of Violence,” 347–50.



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 391

for the individual members of the sect.73 Judas’s betrayal of Jesus in this narrative is a violation of sectarian solidarity, as his actions are aligned with the Jewish leadership structure with ultimately tragic consequences. The high level of animosity directed toward those with a different understanding of what God wills for the Jewish people includes those members of the sect who have made choices that violate the commitments to the group. In Matthew Judas is the representative of that choice who endures its dire consequences. There are two major features of the Matthean treatment of Pilate that distinguish it from the other gospel narratives. The first is the note that his wife sends to him while he is engaged in the trial, “Have nothing to do with τῷ δικαίῳ ἐκείνῳ (that righteous [or innocent] man), for today I have suffered greatly in a dream on account of him” (27:19). Dreams are an important entrée into understanding the will of God, both in the Jewish world of Matthew and in the Roman world.74 Within the narrative, this is more than an incidental or even bothersome reference; it is rather a warning of dire impending consequences. It is not a good idea for the Roman representative to be involved in the execution of Jesus. This is the prelude to the climactic declarations that follow. The entire account of the trial leads up to the declarations in 27:24 and 25. Pilate takes a bowl of water and washes his hands while declaring, “I am innocent of this man’s blood.” This is a rather dramatic event, nowhere else repeated in the Gospels. The significance of this scene finds explanation in a sectarian reading of the First Gospel. In Baumgarten’s definition, we note that the sect “utilizes boundary marking mechanisms … to distinguish between its own members and those otherwise normally regarded as belonging to the same national or religious entity.” The Jewish sect is distinguished by how it differentiates itself not from the representatives of Roman imperial rule, but rather from the remainder of the Jewish community. This is the manner in which it defines itself. What is significant about this account is that the Roman responsibility is not simply ignored or downplayed. In this sectarian account the Roman responsibility is denied despite all of the evidence to the contrary, the most obvious being that crucifixion is a particular type of execution adopted by the Romans in the eastern regions of the empire reserved primarily for rebellious slaves. 73. Carol A. Newsom, The Self as Symbolic Space: Constructing Identity and Community at Qumran, STDJ 52 (repr., Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2004), 128–34. 74. Evans, Matthew, 453.

392

John Kampen

Matthew wants the sectarian readers to understand that it is the Jewish leadership that is responsible for the death of the founder of their sect. They are not interested in defining themselves against the Romans; their self-definition involves their relationship with the other members of the Jewish communities in which they exist. This message is corroborated in the following verse, “His blood is upon us and upon our children.” His response has been building since Pilate’s wife’s dream of Jesus’s innocence. The next verse defines the tension, “But the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowds to ask for Barabbas but to destroy Jesus” (27:20). Twice more in response to Pilate’s queries the crowd responds, “Let him be crucified” (27:22, 23). Thus, the leadership of the Jewish community has implicated the Jewish community in the death of the leader of this Jewish sect. In view of its treatment in subsequent Western history, this statement calls for a little more explanation. The execution of the leader of the sect does not mean simply the ultimate rejection of the Jewish Messiah, even if the sect regarded Jesus as such. The existence of the sect itself is a critique of the Jewish society of which it is a part. The rhetoric of the climactic section of the composition indicts the Jewish leadership, in particular the intellectual, the religious, and the political dimensions of it. There is no indication of a proposal to favor the Romans, as argued by Josephus and suggested in some of the incidents attributed to Joḥanan ben Zakkai in the rabbinic materials. It is rather that the leadership has failed the Jewish people. The sectarians understand their life to be a critique of how other Jewish people live out their religious devotion and of the views advocated by other Jewish leaders. In that failure the leader of the sect has been executed; however, that death has the possibility of a salvific outcome for the Jewish community. Within the apocalyptic perspective of this Jewish group, God will triumph over both the Roman Empire and the Jewish leadership. The sectarians believe that their way of life and belief is what God wants from the Jewish people and all those non-Jews who are attracted to their viewpoint. This critique is reinforced by the story found only in Matthew that concludes the account of the trial and execution concerning the request for a guard at the tomb (27:62–66). The chief priests and the Pharisees, a pairing not found elsewhere in Matthew but already brought together in the critique of leadership found in 21–22 and discussed above, here ask for a guard so that the body cannot be stolen and the absent body used as the evidence for the claims of resurrection. Within the narrative, of course, the account serves the purpose of providing additional evidence



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 393

for the resurrected Jesus, as related in 28:11–15. In our sectarian reading of this account the extent to which the entire spectrum of Jewish leadership is retained as the object of condemnation and animosity throughout the event to its conclusion is apparent. This account again identifies the culpability for Israel’s troubles, in this case the destruction of the temple and concomitant occupation, with the Jewish leadership rather than the Roman governors. This viewpoint coincides with the sectarian perspectives already identified earlier in this essay. Conclusion The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum employs a very basic definition of anti-Semitism: “prejudice against or hatred of Jews.”75 The Anti-Defamation League describes it as “beliefs or behavior hostile to Jews simply because they are Jewish.”76 These modern, popular definitions point to the long history of Christian hatred for Jews that led up to the developments in the twentieth century and blur some of the distinctions that have tended to pervade the study of this phenomenon in antiquity. In his wideranging survey of the issue, Robert Chazan observes that “anti-Judaism was well established with the Church of antiquity.” He then notes the ugly turn the arguments took in the medieval period: “These medieval thinkers thus served as the destructive conduit between the anti-Judaism of antiquity and the anti-Semitism of modernity.”77 Of particular importance is the manner in which the gospel accounts, and the crucifixion in particular, became more important as a source of inspiration for the more popular religion of the Crusades. This military venture to reconquer the sacred sites of Christianity required a new religious rationale, with the cross becoming its major symbol and participation tied to religious rewards, including

75. United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, “Antisemitism: The Longest Hatred,” https://tinyurl.com/SBL4527b. 76. Anti-Defamation League, “Antisemitism,” https://tinyurl.com/SBL4527c. 77. Robert Chazan, From Anti-Judaism to Anti-Semitism: Ancient and Medieval Constructions of Jewish History (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2016), 247. In this volume Chazan finds the New Testament material to have a more positive view of the Jewish past and the Jewish future than many other students of the subject noted earlier in this article. His earlier more major research on the subject is found in Medieval Stereotypes and Modern Antisemitism (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997).

394

John Kampen

those associated with martyrdom.78 Aware of the issues that have come into this field of inquiry in more recent study, Paula Fredriksen speaks to the question of definition within the context of its historical development: “Is anti-Judaism, then, the same as anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism? I do not think so. The first is a theological position, the second, a racist one, the third, a political one. But, without question, the long centuries of Christianity’s anti-Judaism soaked into the soil of Western culture, preparing the ground for these more recent avatars.”79 In other words, the hatred of Jews takes various forms and is expressed in a variety of manners at different times. The continuity of some form of hatred of Jews is the striking trajectory of this history, when viewed from a post-Holocaust perspective. It is at this point that a sectarian reading of this composition can prove instructive. Suggestive is Graham Stanton’s comparison of the Damascus Document and Matthew on the basis of a sociological analysis.80 Evaluating these two compositions from the standpoint of the social conflict theory of Lewis Coser and the phenomenon of legitimation of Peter Berger and Thomas Luckmann, Stanton examines the nature of the sectarian communities envisioned in the two compositions and their legitimation of the parting of the ways. Significant for our discussion is his judgment that the ways have parted. He reiterates this stance elsewhere in his work on Matthew, and it becomes a basic presupposition of his approach to the text.81 He proposes an explanation for the intensified anti-Jewish polemic of the text: “Matthew’s community has recently parted company with Judaism after a prolonged period of hostility.… They represent in part anger and frustration at the continuing rejection of Christian claims and at the continued hostility of Jews towards the new community.”82 His utilization of the sociological methods in a sectarian analysis does capture some of the social dynamics of the text. However, I would argue that he is misled in assuming that there is a Christianity that

78. Chazan, From Anti-Judaism to Anti-Semitism, 111–13. 79. Paula Fredriksen, “The Birth of Christianity and the Origins of Christian Anti-Judaism,” in Jesus, Judaism and Anti-Judaism: Reading the New Testament after the Holocaust, ed. Fredriksen and Adele Reinhartz (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2002), 24. 80. Graham N. Stanton, A Gospel for a New People: Studies in Matthew (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1992), 85–110. 81. Stanton, Gospel for a New People, 113–68. 82. Stanton, Gospel for a New People, 156–57.



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 395

was established at that time, or that it is meaningful to speak of a conflict between the church and the synagogue, the title of one of his chapters. My sectarian analysis assumes that a Christian church was not established, that the ἐκκλησία of Matthew is the name of this particular Jewish communal organization (or sect). We are speaking in Matthew of a sectarian group formed within Jewish society toward the conclusion of the first century CE. The conflict is with the leadership of that society and with other groups within it whom Matthew believes have more power than his own group. There is here no parting of the ways. There is a new sect that believes it is right and that it alone has the answers to the very difficult problems presently facing the Jewish world. Elsewhere I have demonstrated that a similar case is to be made for the use of the synagogue in Matthew.83 The nature of this institution is very different in the evidence of first-century Jewish life from the role ascribed to it in later centuries, when it became central for Rabbinic Judaism. It should be designated as a public institution, more akin to the Hellenistic bouleuterion,84 which served political, religious, and social functions for the community.85 Lee Levine sees the synagogue as the result of a gradual evolution during the Hellenistic and Roman periods from activities that were characteristic of the city gate in earlier eras. He can find no evidence to support the view that it possessed a particular religious or halakic status as an institution. The very limited and ambiguous first-century evidence points to an entity that served as a center for a variety of religious and communal functions.86 After the destruction of the temple and the growth 83. Kampen, Matthew within Sectarian Judaism, 131–55. See that discussion for a more full analysis of the relevant literature on this subject. 84. Lee I. Levine, The Ancient Synagogue: The First Thousand Years, 2nd ed. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005), 75. 85. Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 21–173; Lee I. Levine, “The First-Century C.E. Synagogue in Historical Perspective,” in The Ancient Synagogue from Its Origins until 200 C.E.: Papers Presented at an International Conference at Lund University, October 14–17, 2001, ed. Birger Olsson and Magnus Zetterholm, ConBNT 39 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2003), 1–24. Arguing for a similar functional role, however with more stress on its religious dimensions is Anders Runesson, The Origins of the Synagogue: A Socio-historical Study, ConBNT 37 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2001). See also the collection by Anders Runesson, Donald D. Binder, and Birger Olsson, The Ancient Synagogue from Its Origins to 200 C.E.: A Source Book, AJEC 72 (Leiden: Brill, 2008). 86. Donaldson, Jews and Anti-Judaism, 16–18. In this quote, some of the perceptions of a possible Qumran community may seem a little dated in light of recent

396

John Kampen

of an aggressive Roman hegemony, the functions and impact of the synagogues would have been localized without the broader impact attributed to them in later Jewish history. This picture of a localized institution at the center of communal Jewish life is consistent with its portrayal and utilization by Matthew. The gospel in the figure of Jesus demonstrates the manner in which these sectarians will have made their case in the synagogues of their town(s), just as representatives of other Jewish viewpoints did. Both the Sermon on the Mount and the communal discipline procedures of Matt 18 demonstrate the argument for separation made within Matthew. This does not contradict the view that they will have advanced the case in the public square for their understanding of Jewish life. Within the rhetoric employed in the service of the legitimation of this new group, Matthew is not simply engaged in a critique of Israelite society in the same manner as the Hebrew prophets of old. As noted by Terence Donaldson, the sectarian rhetoric of the Dead Sea Scrolls is of a different nature: “This community apparently saw themselves as the sole recipients of a special revelation granted to them through the Teacher of Righteousness, and thus as exclusive bearers of the name of Israel.” The sectarian reading of the Matthean texts proposed above makes those same exclusive claims to special revelation. The problem is that the rhetorical escalation of the conflict in this text legitimating this new group continues to be used long after the sectarian stance reflected in the original composition is no longer an accurate representation of its social location. The sectarian rhetoric continues to function as a fundamental reference point for group identity when it is no longer a sect in relationship to the Jewish world or when Jews are no longer even present within the social world of the commentator or reader. It is this original sectarian hostility that is then repeated on a regular basis at different times and in various social situations. The vitriol directed at the leadership of the Jewish society and at its membership that accedes to its entreaties is repeated in this continuous reaffirmation and legitimation of its sectarian identity. This hatred is expressed over and over and recontextualized always in the service of the legitimation of the community that began as this Jewish sect. “His blood is upon us and upon our children” continues to be the case, not because it is true or because it bears scholarship; however, the nature of the relationship between what is described in Qumran sectarian literature and the prophetic literature of the Hebrew Bible is insightful and significant.



The Problem of Christian Anti-Semitism 397

any remote connection to an existent social location. It remains the case not only because it is part of a statement of identity of the community of Jesus followers and the various institutions created in his name. It also represents the dynamic of its sectarian founding; hence, it is not only of propositional value but also a fundamental motivation, in many instances even subconscious, for the continuing allegiance and adherence of this body’s membership in its massive and multiple manifestations these millennia later.

Israel and the Nations in the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies and Recognitions 1.27–71: Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew Karin Hedner Zetterholm

Introduction This essay focuses on Israel and the nations (Jews and gentiles) in the early third-century Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions (1.27–71) and the early fourth-century Pseudo-Clementine Homilies and discusses their relation to the Gospel of Matthew with regard both to shared ideas and their use of the gospel. Recognitions 1.27–71 and the Homilies both offer a history of the early apostolic period with Peter as the main character, and both show a preference for the Gospel of Matthew over the other gospels. It has even been suggested that Rec. 1.27–71 was originally written in the name of Matthew and may have been a pseudepigraphic addendum to the Gospel of Matthew.1 Like Matthew, the author of Rec. 1.27–71 is mainly concerned with the mission to the Jews and the Messiah’s significance for them, and embraces the view that torah observance in combination with adherence to Jesus is Judaism correctly understood. Quite possibly, this text functioned within a (Jesus-oriented) Jewish setting. The author/redactor of the Homilies, on the other hand, focuses on the mission to the gentiles and Jesus’s significance for them. Drawing heavily on the Gospel of Matthew, the Homilies’ Peter demonstrates that Jesus is 1. F. Stanley Jones, An Ancient Jewish Christian Source on the History of Christianity: Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.27–71, SBLTT 37 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995), 3, 140, 154–55. For the tentative suggestion that it was an addendum to the Gospel of Matthew, see Joshua E. Burns, The Christian Schism in Jewish History and Jewish Memory (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2016), 155 n. 175, although he emphasizes the speculative nature of this hypothesis.

-399-

400

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

the authoritative interpreter of the torah and that his teachings constitute the hermeneutical key for a correct understanding of the Jewish Scriptures. In the view of the Homilies, the teachings of Jesus as transmitted by Peter and the teachings of Moses transmitted by his followers are two equivalent paths to salvation. Although the Homilies is generally considered a Christian text with close affinities to rabbinic Judaism, the possibility that it belonged within the broader Jewish community where Jesus-oriented Jews and gentiles may have mixed with rabbinic Jews should not be dismissed out of hand. Naturally, this suggestion does not deny the obvious impact that Greco-Roman thought has had on the Homilies. There is a general scholarly consensus that Rec. 1.27–71 derives from an older source preserved in the first book of the Recognitions, the text that together with the Homilies makes up the bulk of the Pseudo-Clementine writings.2 The Homilies and Recognitions are composite works with a complex literary history that offer different but similar versions of a novel about Clement of Rome, his conversion to adherence to the one God and the Prophet of Truth, and his travels with the apostle Peter. Since they have the same basic structure and share a considerable amount of material, scholars assume that they are reworkings of an earlier, no longer extant source, commonly referred to as the Grundschrift and usually dated to the third century. In their redacted forms, the Homilies and Recognitions both date to the fourth century, with the Homilies considered the earlier of the two. Both were originally written in Greek and probably originated in Syria, likely Antioch, or possibly Edessa. This essay only discusses the Homilies, which is the more Jewishly oriented reworking of the Grundschrift, leaving out the Recognitions with the exception of 1.27–71, considered by scholars to be an independent source of Jewish origin preserved within the Recognitions.3 2. For a history of research, see Jones, Ancient Jewish Christian Source, 1–38. 3. The Homilies have survived in the original Greek, but the full text of the Recognitions is extant only in a Latin translation from ca. 406. A Syriac translation from 411 includes selections from both the Homilies and Recognitions (Rec. 1–4.1.4; Hom. 10–14). There are two later epitomes of the Homilies in Greek and one of the Recognitions in Arabic. Attached to the Homilies are also three short introductory writings: a letter said to have been written by Peter to James (Epistula Petri), an account of that letter’s reception (Contestatio or Diamartyria), and a letter from Clement to James (Epistula Clementis). For the text, translations, sources and ancient witnesses, see Jan N. Bremmer, “Pseudo-Clementines: Texts, Dates, Places, Authors and Magic,” in The Pseudo-Clementines, ed. Jan N. Bremmer (Leuven: Peeters, 2010), 1–23; F. Stan-



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 401

Based mainly on the fact that many of the theological views of Rec. 1.27–71 differ or are absent from the rest of the Pseudo-Clementine writings, scholars see Rec. 1.27–71 as an independent unit within the Recognitions, and most consider it one of the sources on which the author of the Grundschrift drew.4 F. Stanley Jones argues that it was integrated into the Grundschrift with only minor revisions and additions and that it was written by a Jesus-believing Jew in Judea circa 200, possibly under the name of Matthew.5 Except for a few fragments, the original Greek is lost, and the text survives in Latin and Syriac translations and some fragments in Armenian.6 Most recent studies agree on the Jewish character ley Jones, Pseudoclementina Elchasaiticaque inter Judaeochristiana: Collected Studies (Leuven: Peeters, 2012), 8–49; Graham Stanton, “Jewish Christian Elements in the Pseudo-Clementine Writings,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries, ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2007), 305–24, esp. 305–15. For a history of research, see Jones, Pseudoclementina Elchasaiticaque inter Judaeochristiana, 50–113. 4. Jones, Ancient Jewish Christian Source, 127–31. Following Georg Strecker, many earlier studies saw the source as comprising 1.33–71. See Strecker, Das Judechristentum in den Pseudoklementinen (Berlin: Akademie, 1981), 221. For a survey on the delineation and redaction of the source, see Jones, Ancient Jewish Christian Source, 111–55; Robert E. Van Voorst, The Ascents of James: History and Theology of a Jewish-Christian Community (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988), 1–27. Van Voorst sees the source as comprising 1.33–71, and, identifying it with the Anabathmoi Jacobou mentioned by Epiphanius (Pan. 30.16), he calls it “the Ascents of James” (see Van Voorst, Ascents of James, 39–41). Jones and Stanton reject the identification with the Anabathmoi Jacobou. Jones refers to the source as an “ancient Jewish Christian source on the history of Christianity,” or alternatively, “a Jewish Christian Acts of the Apostles,” while Stanton prefers the name “an apologia for Jewish believers in Jesus.” 5. Jones, Ancient Jewish Christian Source, 3–4, 159–67. The attribution to Matthew is based on the observation that Rec. 1.27–71 has switched the order of the apostles in the list taken from Matt 10:2–4, placing Matthew first (1.55–62). That it is taken from Matthew rather than from the list in Mark 3:16–19 is suggested by the fact that Rec. 1.57.3 reflects the prohibition of entering a Samaritan city in Matt 10:5. Similarly, Rec. 1.37.2 alludes to a saying found only in Matt 9:13 and 12:7, see Jones, Ancient Jewish Christian Source, 140, 154–55. 6. For the Latin text see Bernhard Rehm, Rekognitionen in Rufinus Übersetzung, vol. 2 of Die Pseudoklementinen, (Berlin: Akademie, 1965), and for the Syriac, Paul A. Lagarde, Clementis Romani Recognitiones Syriace (Leipzig: Brockhaus, 1861). A parallel translation of the Latin and Syriac versions, as well as the Armenian fragments, is found in Jones, Ancient Jewish Christian Source. For a translation from Syriac, see also F. Stanley Jones, The Syriac Pseudo-Clementines: An Early Version of the First Christian Novel (Turnhout: Brepols, 2014).

402

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

of this source, citing the author’s concern for Jerusalem and the land, the absence of anti-Jewish polemic common in gentile Christian texts of the same period, the sympathetic attitude to non-Jesus-oriented Jews, the portrayal of Jesus adherents as a group within Judaism, the mention of Abraham as the ancestor of “our race, the Hebrews, who are also called the Jews” (Syriac), the praise of Hebrew as the original tongue of humankind and the language as “pleasing to God” (Syriac 1.30.5) or “divinely given” (Latin 1.30.5).7 Like Matthew, the author seems to address an audience consisting predominantly of Jews. The number of references to the Gospel of Matthew that scholars have detected in Rec. 1.27–71 varies, but there is a general agreement that Matthew is the author’s favorite gospel,8 and, as we shall see, his perspective on Jews and gentiles is quite similar to Matthew’s. While the Gospel of Matthew was taken over by the gentile church at a relatively early stage, Rec. 1.27–71 seems to have been preserved in a Jewish context. The first part of this essay focuses on the perspective and model for the inclusion of gentiles that the author of Rec. 1.27–71 seems to share with Matthew. The Reception of the Gospel of Matthew in Recognitions 1.27–71 Recognitions 1.27–71 offers a brief survey of the main events in the history of Israel from creation to the advent of Jesus (1.27–39), followed by a 7. See Annette Yoshiko Reed, “ ‘Jewish Christianity’ after the ‘Parting of the Ways’: Approaches to Historiography and Self-Definition in the Pseudo-Clementines,” in The Ways That Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, TSAJ 95 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003), 189–231, esp. 204–5, 210–12; Burns, Christian Schism, 150–56; Stanton, “Jewish Christian Elements,” 322–24; Louis J. Martyn, “Clementine Recognitions 1,33–71, Jewish Christianity, and the Fourth Gospel,” in God’s Christ and His People: Studies in Honour of Nils Alstrup Dahl, ed. Jakob Jervell and Wayne A. Meeks (Oslo: Universitetsforlaget, 1977), 265–95, esp. 269– 70. On the author’s concern for Jerusalem and the land, see Jones, Pseudoclementina Elchasaiticaque inter Judaeochristiana, 258–66. For the Syriac “our race, the Hebrews, who are also called the Jews” the Latin translation has “Abraham, from whom the race of us Hebrews is descended.” See the parallel translation in Jones, Ancient Jewish Christian Source, 58. Unless otherwise indicated, translations from the Recognitions follow Jones, Ancient Jewish-Christian Source. 8. See Martyn, “Clementine Recognitions 1,33–71,” 270; Van Voorst, Ascents of James, 79; Burns, Christian Schism, 155. Rehm identifies twenty-six references, Martyn twenty, and Van Voorst eleven (Martyn, “Clementine Recognitions 1,33–71,” 266, 272; Van Voorst, Ascents of James, 79 n. 4).



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 403

more detailed account of the activities of the early apostles after the death and resurrection of Jesus (1.39–71).9 The history of the early apostles appears to be a retelling of selected traditions from Acts 1–12, but narrated from a perspective that seems to be closer to the Gospel of Matthew than to Acts. Focusing on the mission to the Jews, the text speaks mainly through Peter while ignoring Paul save for a brief allusion to “the enemy.” Another deviation from Acts is that the martyrdom of Stephen is replaced by the near-martyrdom of James. Jones has argued that Rec. 1.27–71 was intended to rival Luke’s Acts and perhaps even replace it with his own acts of the apostles and that Rec.1.27–71 should be seen as an early critical commentary on the book of Acts.10 Graham Stanton sees Rec. 1.27–71 as a “ ‘foundation narrative’ of a community of Jewish believers in Jesus” and as “one of our most important pieces of evidence for Jewish believers in Jesus,” a view that is reflected in the name that he proposes for Rec. 1.27–71, “An Apologia for Jewish Believers in Jesus.”11 As in Acts, the apostles are said to be very popular with the people, but rather than healing the sick, as in Acts, Rec. 1.27–71 portrays them as debating questions of doctrine with various Jewish groups, including Sadducees, Pharisees, the disciples of John,12 and even with Samaritans (1.53.4–1.71.6). While the Sadducees and Samaritans are criticized for their rejection of the resurrection of the dead (1.54.2–3; 1.56.1) and preference for Mount Gerizim over the temple in Jerusalem (1.54.4–5; 1.57.1)

9. For the account of creation, Rec. 1.27–71 draws heavily from the book of Jubilees; for the latter period, on the gospels of Matthew and Luke; and above all, on Acts (see Jones, Ancient Jewish Christian Source, 138–42). For the relation to Acts in particular, see Jones, Pseudoclementina Elchasaiticaque inter Judaeochristiana, 233–36. For the relation to Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho and works referred to by Eusebius and Epiphanius, such as Hegesippus (Hist. eccl. 2.23.4–18), the Anabathmoi Jakobou (Pan. 30.16.7–9), and the Gospel of the Ebionites (Pan. 30.13.2–8, 14.5, 16.5, 22.4), see Jones, Ancient Jewish Christian Source, 142–49. 10. See F. Stanley Jones, “An Ancient Jewish Christian Rejoinder to Luke’s Acts of the Apostles: Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.27–71,” and “A Jewish Christian Reads Luke’s Acts of the Apostles: The Use of the Canonical Acts in the Ancient Jewish Christian Source behind Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.27–71,” in Jones, Pseudoclementina Elchasaiticaque inter Judaeochristiana, 207–29, 230–51. See also Martyn, “Clementine Recognitions 1,33–71,” 273. Compare, however, Stanton, “Jewish Christian Elements,” 318, who downplays the element of rivalry with Acts. 11. Stanton, “Jewish Christian Elements,” 322, 319. 12. Presumably John the Baptist, although this is not spelled out.

404

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

respectively, the debate with the priests and the followers of John the Baptist concerns the identity of the Messiah. The high priest Caiaphas, in particular, is portrayed as being very interested in this discussion and as repeatedly inviting the apostles to the temple to debate whether Jesus is the Messiah (1.44.2; 1.55.1). The portrayal of the Pharisees is ambivalent but less negative than Matthew’s. The scribes and Pharisees are associated with the followers of John the Baptist, and contrary to Matt 3:7–10, they are said to have been baptized by John and to have proclaimed him as the Messiah (1.54.6–8; 1.60.1–2). They are said to possess “the word of truth received from Moses’ tradition” that is “the key to the kingdom of heaven” (1.54.7) but are criticized for hiding it from the people (see Matt 23:13). However, apart from this critique, no mention is made of the rest of Matthew’s condemnations of the scribes and Pharisees in chapter 23.13 Although not explicitly said to belong to the Pharisees, Gamaliel is described as the “head of the people,” a secret believer in Jesus working surreptitiously to help James and the Jesus believers, and is said to have intervened in favor of the apostles (1.65.2– 68.2; see Acts 5:33–39). One by one starting with Matthew (1.55.4), the apostles who are assembled in the temple come forward to refute the arguments of their opponents and to prove with arguments from Scripture that Jesus is the Messiah. Initially, they are very successful, but just as James is about to persuade the high priest and “all the people” to be baptized, an unnamed “enemy” bursts into the temple instigating a riot, which leaves James nearly killed and the rest of the Jesus believers fleeing to Jericho (1.69.8– 71). With a brief note that the enemy, after having promised Caiaphas to kill all Jesus believers, set off for Damascus in pursuit of Peter (1.71.3–4), the narrative abruptly breaks off. The mention of Damascus clearly implies that the enemy is Paul. Throughout the work, the similarity between Moses and Jesus is emphasized as is the continuity between their teachings, although as both prophet and the Messiah, Jesus is greater than Moses (1.59.2–3).14 Jesus is seen as the prophet predicted by Moses (1.36.2, quoting Deut 18:15–18; Acts 3:22–23), who came to complete and fulfill his teachings. He abolished the sacrifices 13. See Reed, “Jewish Christianity,” 205–6. 14. This is one of the arguments with the Pharisees who oppose the apostles’ portrayal of Jesus as equal to Moses, leading the latter to stress that Moses not only is equal to Moses but superior to him (1.59.1).



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 405

that Moses reluctantly had allowed as a concession to the idolatrous habits the Israelites had adopted while in Egypt (1.36.1),15 instituting in their stead immersion in water “for the forgiveness of sins” (1.39.1–2 Syriac; see also 1.54.1; 1.69.5).16 Sacrifices were always meant to be temporary and a means to keep the Israelites from falling into idolatrous ways, and Moses himself had foreseen the coming of a second prophet (1.36.2), who would abolish them, making the Israelites see that “God desires kindness, not sacrifices” (1.37.2; see Matt 9:13, 12:7; Hos 6:6). Thus, Matthew and the author of Rec. 1.27–71 agree that the advent of Jesus marks a new era in Israel’s history when sacrifices ought to cease, although they disagree over the details. While Matthew seems to think that Jesus’s death offers atonement for the people (Matt 26:28) in place of the sacrifices that are no longer effective as a means of atonement because the temple has been defiled (Matt 23),17 the author of Rec. 1.27–71 maintains that Jesus instituted immersion in water for the forgiveness of sins as a replacement for sacrifices, which were always imperfect: “But when the time began to approach when what we said was lacking in the institutions of Moses would be completed, the prophet, whom he had predicted would appear and who first of all would admonish them by the mercy of God to cease with sacrifices, lest they think that with the ceasing of the sacrifices remission of sins could not be effected for 15. The idea that sacrifices were allowed to keep the Israelites from idolatry is found also in Justin, Dial. 19.6, and see the tradition in Lev. Rab. 22.8: “The Holy One, blessed be He, said: Let them offer their sacrifices to me at all times in the tent of meeting, and thus they will be separated from idolatry and be saved.” Translation from Mordecai Margulies, Midrash Wayyikra Rabbah: A Critical Edition Based on Manuscripts and Genizah Fragments with Variants and Notes, 2 vols. (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1993), 2:517–18. 16. The Latin reads: “[Jesus] instituted for them baptism by water, in which they might be absolved from the sins through the invocation of his name” (baptisma eis per aquam statuit, in quo ab omnibus peccatis invocato eius nomine solverentur). See Mark 1:4, where John the Baptist proclaims forgiveness of sins through repentance and baptism. 17. See Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016), 331–32. Runesson argues that in saving his people (Matt 1:21), Jesus is the solution to the defilement and later destruction of the temple and the loss of its mechanisms of atonement. Without access to atonement, the law would condemn the people and the Mosaic covenant break down. Because the law remains in force throughout history, the people can only be saved by a means of atonement beyond the temple, and, for Matthew, this is Jesus’s sacrificial death.

406

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

them, instituted for them baptism by water” (1.39.1–2, Latin). Baptism is described as washing in “waters whose flow is living,” and without it, the author explains in words put into James’s mouth, there will be no forgiveness of sins and no inclusion in the kingdom of God (1.69.5). For the author of Rec. 1.27–71, the advent of Jesus, the Messiah, is the goal and fulfillment of Israel’s history, and all Jews ought to adhere to him through baptism.18 Jews who do not believe that Jesus is the Messiah are criticized (1.40.2; 1.59.7) and said to be punished by war and exile (1.39.3),19 but the author stops short of condemning the Jewish crowds for not embracing Jesus and simply urges them not to hate him (1.60.5–6). The one who is blamed for the failed mission among the Jews is Paul, and in part the priests, who are said to have taught the people about the necessity of sacrifices, making it difficult for them to believe Jesus’s teachings (1.40.2 Latin).20 Thus, for both Matthew and the author of Rec. 1.27–71, access to a mechanism of atonement is of utmost importance, although they differ on the precise form that this should take in the post-Jesus era. Both positions likely reflect Jewish attempts to come to terms with the destruction of the temple and the cessation of sacrifices. Jews and Gentiles in Recognitions 1.27–71 Apart from the immersion for the remission of sins introduced by Jesus, nothing explicit is said about torah observance or about circumcision. However, statements to the effect that adherence to Jesus is the only difference between the Jesus believers and “those among our people who do not believe” (Syriac 1.43.2) and “between them [non-Jesus-believing Jews] and us there is discord about this matter [Jesus] alone” (1.50.5) seem to 18. In Jones’s words: “For him, Christianity (a term he does not use) is true Judaism (another term he does not employ)” (Jones, Ancient Jewish Christian Source, 160). 19. Perhaps a reference to the Bar Kokhba Revolt and Hadrian’s decree following it in 135 CE (see Stanton, “Jewish Christian Elements,” 319–20). In Rec. 1.64.1–2, Peter prophesies that “sacrificing after the end of the time for sacrifices” (i.e., after Jesus had replaced them with baptism) will bring about the destruction of the temple (1.64.1–2). 20. The Syriac’s harsh wording in 1.40.2: “For they are people who are more wretched than any, who are willing to believe neither good nor bad for the sake of virtue” is lacking in the Latin version and may not be original, see Jones, Syriac PseudoClementines, 96 n. 62. For the possible role that the priests played in the people’s failure to embrace Jesus, see Reed, “Jewish Christianity,” 210–11.



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 407

imply no change in this regard.21 This conclusion is further supported by the assertion that God at the end of time “will please those who have kept and done the law” (1.51.4 Syriac).22 The author seems to maintain that the only part of the law that Jesus abolished was sacrifices, a part that was always meant to be temporary and only reluctantly instituted by Moses. As pointed out by Annette Yoshiko Reed, the choice to depict sacrifices as the primary area in which Jesus corrects the law of Moses further serves to downplay the differences between Rec. 1.27–71 and his non-Jesus-believing Jewish contemporaries, who at the time were no longer sacrificing either.23 Thus, it seems likely that the author of Rec. 1.27–71, like Matthew, maintained that belief in Jesus as the Messiah was to be combined with full torah observance, at least for Jews. When it comes to torah observance for gentiles, things are less clear. The mission to the gentiles is only mentioned a few times en passant, is clearly secondary to the mission to the Jews (1.63.2), and only came about because not all Jews embraced Jesus: “But since it was necessary for the Nations to be called in the place of those who remained unbelievers so that the number that was shown to Abraham might be filled, the saving proclamation of the kingdom of God was sent out into the whole world” (1.42.1 Latin).24 Nothing explicit is said about the relation of gentiles to the torah or about circumcision, and, accordingly, scholarly opinions diverge. Robert van Voorst believes that the author of Rec. 1.27–71 held that full torah observance applied also to gentile believers in Jesus, presumably

21. See Reed, “Jewish Christianity,” 205; Stanton, “Jewish Christian Elements,” 321. Van Voorst considers the community to be made up of law-observant Jesusbelieving Jews who may have practiced circumcision (Ascents of James, 175–77). 22. The law is mentioned only in the Syriac translation. The Latin has instead, “God will award the good with the eternal possession of good things.” This belongs to a passage that Jones considers an interpolation by the author of the Grundschrift (1.44.1–1.53.4). 23. Reed, “Jewish Christianity,” 211–12. 24. The Syriac describes this as a “confusion,” but this is lacking in the Latin translation. In 1.64.2 the mission to the gentiles is said to be a consequence of the destruction of the temple, which in turn results from continued sacrifices in the temple due to the people’s failure to recognize Jesus as the Messiah. Recognitions 1.50.1–2 has a more positive view of the mission to the gentiles, describing Jesus as “a hope for the Nations,” but it belongs to the section that Strecker maintains was inserted by the author of the Grundschrift (1.44–53.4) and fits better with that author’s interest in the gentile mission.

408

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

including circumcision, although he is not explicit on this point.25 Jones, by contrast, thinks not, arguing that the idea of calling the nations to complete the number shown to Abraham (1.42; 1.63.2; 1.64.2) suggests that the gentiles would be called as gentiles and thus would not be expected to convert to Judaism (e.g., undergo circumcision) in order to join the Jesus believers.26 Admittedly, the same uncertainty pertains to the Gospel of Matthew, and although there seems to be an emerging scholarly consensus that Matthew prescribed full torah observance for gentiles, including circumcision, there are dissenting voices arguing that gentiles, according to Matthew, were only obliged to keep a limited number of commandments (the Apostolic Decree).27 This leaves us with a number of options that unfortunately will all remain speculative. The author of Rec. 1.27–71 might think, with the Jesus-believing Pharisees in Acts 15:5 and perhaps with Matthew, that gentiles who embrace Jesus should be circumcised and committed to full torah observance.28 Alternatively, he might think that gentiles who 25. Van Voorst, Ascents of James, 178. See Reed, “Jewish Christianity,” 212 n. 83, who likewise tentatively suggests this. 26. Jones, Ancient Jewish Christian Source, 164. Not all scholars distinguish between Jesus-believing Jews and gentiles, speaking instead of “Jewish Christians,” which leads to a certain confusion. Martyn, e.g., writes: “We may assume, I think, that the author belonged to a community which practices both circumcision and Christian baptism, and which is therefore made up of circumcised, baptized Jewish Christians” (Martyn, “Clementine Recognitions 1,33–71,” 271). See also Strecker, Judechristentum in den Pseudoklementinen, 251. 27. On Matthew as prescribing full torah observance for gentiles, see Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation, 31–36, 379–80; David C. Sim, The Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism: The History and Social Setting of the Matthean Community (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998), 246–55. For a survey of the debate, see Roland Deines, “Not the Law but the Messiah: Law and Righteousness in the Gospel of Matthew— An Ongoing Debate,” in Built upon the Rock: Studies in the Gospel of Matthew, ed. Daniel M. Gurtner and John J. Nolland (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 53–84. There is yet a third position, which Deines himself represents, according to which Matthew does not differentiate between Jewish and gentile members of the community, promoting a new post-Jesus understanding of the torah for both Jews and gentiles. For those who dissent, see W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 1:492–93, 2:537–38. For a survey and more references, see Sim, Gospel of Matthew, 251–52. 28. Justin appears to be familiar with such a position, saying to Trypho: “Some of your race, who say they believe in this Christ, compel those Gentiles who believe in



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 409

embrace Jesus should remain gentiles (uncircumcised) but strive to observe as many commandments as possible, a position similar to that of the Didache, where non-Jews are encouraged to observe as much of the torah as they can while preserving their gentile ethnicity: “If you can bear the entire yoke of the Lord, you will be perfect, but if you cannot, do what you can” (Did. 6.2).29 A similar positive view of gentile torah observance without demanding conversion is also evidenced within an early strand of rabbinic Judaism, as shown by Marc Hirshman.30 A third possibility is that the author of Rec. 1.27–71 adhered to a Pauline-Acts model and thought that Jesus-believing non-Jews should observe the laws for gentiles as formulated in the Apostolic Decree (Acts 15:20, 29) and based on the laws for resident aliens in Leviticus. While the animosity toward Paul would seem to speak against this possibility, we must keep in mind that the antagonism is directed at Paul prior to his embracing of the Jesus movement and at the time during which he is said to have persecuted the Jesus followers (see 1 Cor 15:9; Gal 1:13, 23). That his “conversion” and mission to the gentiles is not mentioned may of course indicate disapthis Christ to live in all respects according to the law given by Moses, or choose not to associate so intimately with them” (Dial. 47 [ANF 1:218]). In the same chapter, he mentions gentiles who have been circumcised and who “observe the same things” as Jews. 29. The translation follows Huub van de Sandt and David Flusser, The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and Its Place in Early Judaisnm and Christianity (Assen: Van Gorcum, 2002), 12. For such an understanding of the Didache, see van de Sandt and Flusser, Didache, 265–69; Magnus Zetterholm, “The Didache, Matthew, James—and Paul: Reconstructing Historical Developments in Antioch,” in Matthew, James, and Didache: Three Related Documents in Their Jewish and Christian Settings, ed. Huub van de Sandt and Jürgen K. Zangenberg, SymS 45 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2008), 73–90. 30. Marc Hirshman, “Rabbinic Universalism in the Second and Third Centuries,” HTR 93 (2000): 101–15. Based on passages that praise torah observance by gentiles and similar ones that imply that the torah was intended for all peoples, he concludes that there was a universalistic strand within rabbinic Judaism of the second–third centuries that encouraged torah observance by non-Jews without necessarily demanding conversion. See also David Flusser, “Paul’s Jewish-Christian Opponents in the Didache,” in The Didache in Modern Research, ed. Jonathan A. Draper, AJEC 37 (Leiden: Brill, 1996), 195–211, esp. 204–5; van de Sandt and Flusser, Didache, 265–67, where similar conclusions are drawn. By contrast, and possibly more in keeping with Paul and the Apostolic Decree, the Rabbi Akiva school held that the torah was given exclusively to Israel, comparing gentile involvement with torah to adultery (Sifre Deut. 345).

410

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

proval, but it may also be due to the partial state of preservation of the text. We have no way of knowing whether the original text ended precisely at the point where the author of the Grundschrift ceases to use it.31 In sum, while it is quite possible that the author of Rec. 1.27–71 promoted full torah observance for gentiles with or without circumcision, we do not have enough information to definitely rule out the possibility that he embraced a Pauline-Acts model, prescribing for gentiles only the rules of the Apostolic Decree. Even this position is not as limited as it may at first seem, considering the fact that at least until the fourth century the Apostolic Decree appears to have been generally understood to include not just the commandments that are explicitly mentioned in the decree but all the laws prescribed for non-Israelites in the Lev 17–18, on which the Apostolic Decree is based, as recently argued by Isaac Oliver and Holger Zellentin.32 This means that the prohibition against blood, strangled animals, and πορνεία in Acts 15:20, 29 would have included carrion and animals torn by wild beasts, said to defile resident aliens no less than Israelites in Lev 17:15–16, and all forms of prohibited sexual relations specified in Lev 18 (incest, bestiality, adultery, male homosexual intercourse, and sexual intercourse with a menstruating woman). As we will see in the next section, the Homilies seem to adopt a Pauline-Acts model in prescribing for gentiles a slightly expanded version of the Apostolic Decree, but they address gentiles, while Rec. 1.27–71 is primarily concerned with Jews. Hence, we cannot determine whether these writings reflect different ideologies or simply have a different focus due to different intended audiences. The Reception of the Gospel of Matthew in the Homilies As briefly mentioned at the beginning, the Homilies are written in the form of a Greco-Roman novel and tell the story of the conversion of 31. See Burns, Christian Schism, 154. 32. Isaac W. Oliver, Torah Praxis after 70 CE: Reading Matthew and Luke-Acts as Jewish Texts (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 365–98; Holger M. Zellentin, “JudaeoChristian Legal Culture and the Qur’an: The Case of Ritual Slaughter and the Consumption of Animal Blood,” in Jewish-Christianity and the Origins of Islam, ed. Francisco del Río Sánchez (Turnhout: Brepols, 2018), 117–59. Both Oliver and Zellentin build on Jürgen Wehnert, Die Reinheit des “christlichen Gottesvolkes” aus Juden und Heiden (Göttingen: Vandenhoch & Ruprecht, 1997).



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 411

Clement of Rome and his travels with the apostle Peter. Having failed to find truth in the various philosophical schools he has tried out in Rome, Clement, a member of a prominent Roman family, travels to Judea, where he meets Peter, who persuades him to turn to the one God and convinces him that prophecy, as opposed to philosophy, is the only reliable source of knowledge. He joins Peter, who is traveling along the Syrian coast teaching the gentile nations about worship of the one God (θρησκείᾳ or θεοσέβεια), urging them to abandon their worship of many gods and turn to the God of the Jews.33 Clement is eventually baptized and reunited with his longlost family members who have also embraced θρησκείᾳ. Integral to the plot are Peter’s many disputations with Simon Magus, a character who represents a diversity of ideas that the Homilies find objectionable, such as Marcionite beliefs, Samaritan anti-Judaism, Alexandrian philosophy, and Egyptian magic (e.g., Hom. 2.22–26). Overall, the Homilies promote belief in the one God, prophetic truth, and the law of God over against polytheism and Hellenistic philosophy. For the author(s)/redactor(s) of the Homilies (henceforth the Homilist), Jews and baptized gentiles are united against polytheistic pagans.34 As the Homilies are traditionally seen as representing a particular form of a Jewishly inclined Christianity (“Jewish Christianity”) with close ties to rabbinic Judaism,35 most scholars would probably hesitate to call 33. These sermons are behind the traditional designation of the work as the Homilies, although some scholars have argued that a more suitable name would be the Klementia. See Jones, Pseudoclementina Elchasaiticaque inter Judaeochristiana, 7–49, 345–55; Patricia A. Duncan, Novel Hermeneutics in the Greek Pseudo-Clementine Romance (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2017), 2–6. In view of the good arguments in favor of a name change, I would imagine that the name Klementia will eventually prevail, but to avoid confusion I have chosen, for the time being, to stick to the traditional designation, the Homilies. 34. Annette Yoshiko Reed, “ ‘Jewish Christianity’ as Counter-history? The Apostolic Past in Eusebius’ Ecclesiastical History and the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies,” in Antiquity in Antiquity: Jewish and Christian Pasts in the Greco-Roman World, ed. Gregg Gardner and Kevin L. Osterloh (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008), 172–216, esp. 203; Reed, “When Did Rabbis Become Pharisees? Reflections on Christian Evidence for Post-70 Judaism,” in Envisioning Judaism: Studies in Honor of Peter Schäfer on the Occasion of His Seventieth Birthday, ed. Ra‘anan S. Boustan, Klaus Herrmann, Reimund Leicht, Annette Yoshiko Reed, and Guiseppe Veltri (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 860–95, esp. 892. 35. Albert I. Baumgarten, “Literary Evidence for Jewish Christianity in the Galilee,” in The Galilee in Late Antiquity, ed. Lee I. Levine (New York: Jewish Theological

412

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

the Homilies a Jewish text. However, the fact, observed in some recent scholarship, that the Homilies maintain the traditional Jewish division of humanity into Jews and gentiles and that Peter’s teachings on law are addressed exclusively to gentiles, seems to suggest that rather than reflecting a particular form of Christianity that promotes baptism and a limited torah observance for all “Christians,” whether Jewish or gentile in origin, the Homilies might be better characterized as Jewish teachings for gentiles.36 Abandoning the assumption that the text represents an autonomous group outside the Jewish realm allows us to explore the possibility that the early fourth-century Homilist may have functioned within the broader community of Jews.37 His insistence that non-Jesus-oriented Jews remain part of the people of God—a point where the Homilist deviates from most contemporary Christian texts—and the fact that he seems to have reworked the Grundschrift in a “Jewish direction”38 might suggest that he functioned within a Jewish context. Other features that would seem to point to a presence in a Jewish milieu include the Homilies’ emphasis on the continuity between the teachings of Moses and Peter’s teachings for gentiles, influence by distinctly rabbinic ideas such as the notion of the Oral Torah, and a concern to accommodate rabbinic claims to authority.39 In the late third Seminary of America, 1992), 39–50, esp. 47; Annette Yoshiko Reed, “From Judaism and Hellenism to Christainity and Paganism,” in Nouvelles intrigues pseudo-clémentines Plots in the Pseudo-Clementine Romance: Actes du deuxième colloque international sur la littérature apocryphe chrétienne, Lausanne–Genève, 30 août–2 septembre 2006, ed. Frédéric Amsler, Albert Frey, Charlotte Touati, and Renée Girardet (Prahins: Éditions du Zèbre, 2008), 425–35, esp. 432. 36. For such recent scholarship, see Holger M. Zellentin, The Qur’an’s Legal Culture: The Didascalia Apostolorum as a Point of Departure (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 95; Reed, “Jewish Christianity,” 213–14. The Homilist himself never uses the word Christian. The idea that the Homilies replace circumcision with baptism prevalent in earlier scholarship (e.g., Einar Molland) rests on the traditional assumption that the Homilist prescribes a common torah observance for all “Christians” and fails to note that Peter’s public teachings about law observance always address gentiles. See Molland, Opuscula Patristica (Oslo: Universitetsforlaget, 1970), 33–34. 37. We should bear in mind that adherence to Jesus remained an option within Judaism for quite a long time. See David Frankfurter, “Beyond ‘Jewish Christianity’: Continuing Religious Sub-cultures of the Second and Third Centuries and Their Documents,” in Becker and Reed, Ways That Never Parted, 131–43. 38. See Reed, “Jewish Christianity,” 223. 39. Daniel H. Carlson, Jewish-Christian Interpretation of the Pentateuch in the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2013), 111–36; Reed, “ ‘Jewish



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 413

and early fourth century, “Jewish” did not necessarily mean “rabbinic,” and art from Palestinian synagogues dating from the third through sixth centuries seems to reflect a wide range of ideological inclinations on the part of the community members, indicating a far-reaching diversity within the Jewish communities.40 Thus, the possibility that Jesus-oriented Jews and even Jesus-oriented gentiles could have remained part of the broader Jewish community in the third and early fourth centuries should not be dismissed out of hand. The inscriptions from Aphrodisias in Asia Minor, mentioning θεοσέβεις associated with the Jewish community, have recently been redated to the fourth or even fifth century, raising the possibility that these Godfearers included Jesus believers.41 At the very least, the Homilist’s efforts to present Peter’s teachings for gentiles as being compatible with non-Jesus-oriented Judaism suggest an adaptation of the Grundschrift to suit a fourth-century context where rabbinic Jews were present. Unlike Rec. 1.27–71, the Homilies’ focus on the mission to the gentiles and Peter’s main concern is to make pagans abandon worship of the Greco-Roman gods and turn to the one God: “I [Peter] am going forth to the nations [τὰ ἔθνη] which say that there are many gods, to teach and to preach that God is one, who made heaven and earth, and all things that are in them, in order that they may love Him and be saved” (Hom. 3.59.2).42 Pagans who embrace θρησκείᾳ should worship the one God only, put their Christianity’ as Counter-history,” 190–94; Reed, “When Did Rabbis,” 888–89. For examples of such continuity between the teachings of Moses and Peter’s teachings for gentiles, see Reed, “From Judaism and Hellenism,” 425–35. 40. See Rina Talgam, who suggests that the synagogue in late antiquity was a communal cultural-religious establishment that absorbed and combined traditions from various groups within Jewish society. Talgam, “Constructing Identity through Art: Jewish Art as a Minority Culture in Byzantium,” in Jews in Byzantium: Dialectics of Minority and Majority Cultures, ed. Robert Bonfil, Oded Irshai, Guy G. Stroumsa, and Rina Talgam, JSRC (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 399–454. 41. Paula Fredriksen, Paul: The Pagans’ Apostle (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2017), 205; Lee I. Levine, Visual Judaism in Late Antiquity: Historical Contexts of Jewish Art (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012), 195. Levine considers this as “conclusive evidence of a group of pagan (or possibly, in part, Christian) God-fearers of high rank and significant number who were publicly and actively associated with the local Jewish community” (195). 42. Citations are from Bernhard Rehm’s critical edition updated by Georg Strecker, Homilien, vol. 1 of Die Pseudoklementinen, 3rd ed. (Berlin: Akademie, 1992), and translations are adapted from The Clementine Homilies and the Apostolic Constitutions, ANF 7, with modifications on consultation with the original.

414

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

trust in the Prophet of Truth, and be immersed in water “for the remission of sins” (7.8.1; 8.22; 9.23; 17.7), an initiation rite perceived of as a rebirth whereby non-Jews acquire a new origin (γένεσις), transforming them from τὰ ἔθνη (members of the nations) to θεοσέβεις (Godfearers) and enabling them to be saved (11.26.1; 19.23.6).43 In contrast to Rec. 1.27–71, where baptism is the means of atonement for individual Jews, only gentiles are baptized in the Homilies,44 and the ceremony is seen as purifying them from the pollutions of idolatry and the sinful nature intrinsic to pagans, enabling them to be saved (9.23.2; 13.4.3). Once baptized, gentile θεοσέβεις are obligated to observe a slightly expanded version of the Apostolic Decree, laws that are explicitly said to address gentiles in Acts 15:19–20 and that are based on the commandments that Lev 17–18 prescribes for non-Israelites living among Israelites (Hom. 7.8.1–2).45 This, and the fact that male converts are not said to be circumcised, indicates that the Homilies do not require gentiles who adopt θρησκείᾳ to become Jews but rather embrace a Paul-Acts model for the inclusion of gentiles.46 This Paul-Acts model notwithstanding, Paul 43. Jesus’s primary title in the Homilies is the Prophet of Truth, but Adam and Moses are also seen as incarnations of this prophet, indicating that the True Prophet is understood to appear throughout history in different forms. While the term Godfearers in ancient texts (and scholarly literature) has a range of different meanings, the Homilies use it specifically to denote law-observant worshipers of the one God. The Greek τὰ ἔθνη can be translated either as “gentile” or “pagan,” the first connoting ethnicity and the second cultic affiliation. See Paula Fredriksen, “Judaizing the Nations: The Ritual Demands of Paul’s Gospel,” NTS 56 (2010): 232–52, esp. 242. A pagan who embraces θρησκείᾳ abandons worship of the Greco-Roman gods and is accordingly no longer a pagan, but since such an ex-pagan gentile does not become a Jew, he or she is still a gentile. Thus, the Homilies distinguish between three groups: τὰ ἔθνη (pagans), θεοσέβεις (Jews and Jesus-oriented gentiles), and Ἰουδαίοι/Ἑβραῖοι (Jews/Hebrews who constitute a subcategory within the broader group of θεοσέβεις). 44. The people of Tyre (7.5), Sidon (7.8), Beyrout (7.12), Tripolis (8.22; 9.19; 9.23; 11.25–27), Clement (11.35), and Clement’s mother (13.4–14.1–2). This is the same in Matthew, apart from those baptized by John the Baptist. 45. To the laws of the Apostolic Decree, the Homilies add the requirement to wash after sexual intercourse, prescribed by Lev 15:18 for Israelites but not for resident aliens. The Homilies also explicitly mention carrion and meat from animals torn by wild beasts, thus revealing their dependence on Lev 17 more clearly than the list in Acts. For details on the Homilies’ rendering of the Apostolic Decree, see Zellentin, “Judaeo-Christian Legal Culture,” 142–46. 46. Male circumcision as the main marker of conversion to Judaism is early and



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 415

is never mentioned by name and Acts only rarely referred to, while the Gospel of Matthew is widely cited. The Homilies draw in particular on sayings of Jesus from Matthew and use them in order to demonstrate that Jesus’s teachings are the hermeneutical key to the Jewish Scriptures.47 At the same time, the Homilies also appeal to Jesus’s sayings as evidence that the oral tradition of contemporary non-Jesus-oriented Jews is an alternate but equally valid key to the torah. This is in line with the famous passage where the Homilies outline two parallel paths to salvation, one for Jews through Moses and the other for gentiles through Jesus: For on this account Jesus is concealed from the Hebrews, who have taken Moses as their teacher, and Moses is hidden from those who have believed Jesus. For, there being one teaching by both, God accepts him who has believed either of these.… Neither, therefore, are the Hebrews condemned on account of their ignorance of Jesus, by reason of him who has concealed him, if, doing the things [commanded] by Moses, they do not hate him whom they do not know. Neither are those from among the gentiles condemned, who know not Moses on account of him who has concealed him, provided that these also, doing the things spoken by Jesus, do not hate him whom they do not know. (8.6–7)48 taken for granted in tannaitic texts. See Shaye J. D. Cohen, The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999), 209–21. Accordingly, the fact that circumcision is omitted and only immersion prescribed seems to suggest that these gentiles do not become Jews. Claiming resemblance to Pauline ideas may seem surprising since the Homilies are traditionally considered to be anti-Paul, but the statements adduced to support this view are few in number, do not mention Paul by name (Hom. 17.14, 18–19; Ep. Pet. 2), and may well reflect a Marcionite interpretation of Paul, as was suggested long ago (see Jones, Pseudoclementina Elchasaiticaque inter Judaeochristiana, 152–71). For a similar approach, see Giovanni B. Bazzana, “Paul among his Enemies? Exploring Potential Pauline Theological Traits in the Pseudo-Clementines,” in The Early Reception of Paul the Second Temple Jew, ed. Isaac W. Oliver and Gabriele Boccaccini (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2018), 120–30. 47. The Homilies occasionally draw on the Gospel of Luke but only have very few references to Mark and John. Quite a few quotations of Jesus’s sayings seem to be based on a mixture of Matthew and Luke. See the study by Leslie L. Kline, who argues that the author of the Grundschrift used a harmonized sayings source based on Matthew and Luke. See Kline, The Sayings of Jesus in the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies (Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1975), 173. 48. On this passage, see Reed, “Jewish Christianity,” 213–17. See Rom 11, where Paul embraces a similar theory of concealment.

416

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

For the Homilist, the coming of Jesus marks the point in history when God will save the gentiles from the powers of evil by sending the True Prophet Jesus to teach them what the Jews already know through Moses (Hom. 3.19.1; see 8.6; 7.4). “Jesus,” says Peter, in a conflated reading of Matt 28:19 and 26:28, “sent us to the ignorant gentiles to baptize them for the remission of sins, and commanded us to teach them first” (Hom. 17.7.1).49 With the coming of Jesus, pagans who were previously subject to the powers of evil because of their worship of idols and condemned to destruction (8.23) can now be saved by adhering to God’s law as taught by Jesus and his followers (Hom. 10.6.1–4). While they do not become Jews, baptized gentile observers of the Apostolic Decree acquire the same status as (torah observant) Jews and are said to be “heirs of eternal blessings” (Hom. 9.23), “sons of God,” and “heirs of the eternal kingdom” (Hom. 10.25). Although a distinction remains between Jews and baptized gentiles, that distinction is less important than it used to be, since baptized gentiles have now become part of θρησκείᾳ, the superordinate entity of righteousness made up of all those who believe in the one God.50 Thus, the main line dividing humanity now runs between θεοσέβεις (Jews and baptized gentiles) and τὰ ἔθνη (pagans) rather than, as formerly, between Jews and gentiles/pagans. The Problem with Scripture The Homilist shows very little interest in Jesus’s life, and no soteriological significance is attributed to his death and resurrection. It is his role as teacher that is important, and his teachings that save.51 His authority to interpret the torah is established with appeal to the saying in Matt 17:5 (// Mark 9:7), “This is my beloved son … hear him,” and to the fact that he is the prophet predicted by Moses (Hom. 3.53; see Deut 18:15–19; Acts 3:22–23, 7:37), and his teachings are seen as the hermeneutical key to a

49. In Matthew, “for the remission of sins” is mentioned only in 26:28 in connection with the atoning effect of Jesus’s death for his people. 50. The Homilies envision θρησκείᾳ as a category made up of Jews, whether Jesusoriented or not, and baptized gentiles. 51. See Annette Yoshiko Reed and Ra‘anan S. Boustan, “Blood and Atonement in the Pseudo-Clementines and the Story of the Ten Martyrs: The Problem of Selectivity in the Study of ‘Judaism’ and ‘Christianity,’ ” Henoch 30 (2008): 333–64, esp. 344. The emphasis on Jesus as a teacher (e.g., Hom. 11.20, 28) is a trait that the Homilies share with the Gospel of Matthew.



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 417

correct understanding of Scripture. Such a key is necessary because Scripture, according to the Homilies, includes false passages that were never meant to be part of God’s eternal law. This idea, known as the theory of the false pericopes, is a distinguishing trait of the Homilies, and it is presented as being affirmed by Jesus himself with the noncanonical saying, “Be good money-changers.”52 According to this theory, Scripture contains spurious passages that are mixed up with authentic ones, and like a good money changer the reader of Scripture must acquire the ability to distinguish what is false from what is authentic (3.50.2).53 While “the law of God was given to Moses without writing [ἀγράφως]” (3.47.1), and delivered by Moses “with the explanations” (σὺν ταῖς ἑπιλύσεσιν) to seventy chosen men, “the written law had added to it certain falsehoods contrary to the law of God” (2.38.1). As a result of these false interpolations, Scripture includes pericopes that speak falsehoods against God, such as, for instance, passages that seem to imply that there are many gods; that God is not perfect, omniscient, and good; and that ascribe imperfections to key biblical figures such as Adam, Abraham, Jacob, and Moses (e.g., Hom. 2.38–48; 16.6–14; 18.19). Such passages easily mislead people who are not familiar with “the mystery of scriptures” (τὸ μυστήριον τῶν γραφῶν, 2.40.4). The Homilies’ description of the giving of the torah implies that the false pericopes is a trait of the written law only, whereas the original law, given orally to Moses, is untainted by corruption.54 This means that 52. On the theory of the false pericopes, see Carlson, Jewish-Christian Interpretation, 51–75; Karl E. Shuve, “The Doctrine of the False Pericopes and Other Late Antique Approaches to the Problem of Scripture’s Unity,” in Amsler, Frey, Touati, and Girardet, Nouvelles intrigues pseudo-clémentines, 437–45. Strecker considered the theory as part of the Grundschrift, but much recent scholarship sees it as a trait particular of the Homilies (see Jones, Pseudoclementina Elchasaiticaque inter Judaeochristiana, 168–69; Shuve, “Doctrine of the False Pericopes,” 438–39). See, however, Giovanni B. Bazzana, “ ‘Be Good Moneychangers,’ ” in Invention, Rewriting, Usurpation: Discursive Fights over Religious Traditions in Antiquity, ed. David Brakke, Anders Christian Jacobsen, and Jörg Ulrich (Frankfurt: Lang, 2012), 297–311, esp. 300–301, who attributes it to the Grundschrift. 53. The noncanonical saying “Be good money-changers” is widely attested in patristic literature. In the Homilies, it appears three times and always in reference to the theory of the false pericopes (see 2.51.1; 18.20.4; Kline, Sayings of Jesus, 158–59; Bazzana, “Be Good Moneychangers,” 298–301). 54. According to the Homilies, the Pentateuch was written down after the time of Moses by people who were not prophets (Hom. 3.47). The Homilies’ reservation toward writing and preference for orally transmitted teachings was shared by many

418

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

Scripture is a source of divine truth, but only if it is interpreted by those who have access to the oral teachings emanating from Sinai. Accordingly, the true content of Scripture can be known, but only by those to whom it was directly transmitted together with the oral explanations.55 Access to this oral source external to Scripture is necessary in order to secure a correct understanding of it, which means that prior to the coming of Jesus, the only ones who could properly interpret Scripture were the Jews, who, as Peter explains, have had handed down from their forefathers “the worship of the God who made all things, and the mystery [μυστήριον] of the books which are able to deceive” (3.4.1). Pagans, by contrast, who believe that there are many gods and do not know about the falsehoods of Scripture, are predisposed to misunderstand it (see 16.13). With Jesus, the torah’s authoritative interpreter, the knowledge to read Scripture correctly is extended to the gentiles, who can now learn to understand “the mystery of the Scriptures” (τὸ μυστήριον τῶν γραφῶν) through Jesus’s teachings (2.40.4).56 Jesus as a Hermeneutical Key to Scripture The Homilies’ demonstration of how Jesus’s teachings provide a hermeneutical key to Scripture takes the form of a debate with Simon Magus in which Peter explains the nature of the Jewish Scriptures and, drawing mainly on Jesus’s sayings from the Gospel of Matthew, illustrates how they should be read, with Jesus’s teachings as a guide (Hom. 3.48–57). In response to Simon’s claim that the books of the Jews imply not only that there are many gods but also that the creator of the world is not perfect, not omnipotent, omniscient, and good (3.38–39; see 16.5–8), Peter contemporary Christians as well as by rabbinic Jews. See Kelley Coblentz Bautch, “Obscured by the Scriptures, Revealed by the Prophets: God in the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies,” in Histories of the Hidden God: Concealment and Revelation in Western Gnostic, Esoteric, and Mystical Traditions, ed. April D. DeConick and Grant Adamson (Durham: Acumen, 2013), 125. 55. Shuve, “Doctrine of the False Pericopes,” 439–40. 56. On the oral tradition as a mystery, see Carlson, Jewish-Christian Interpretation, 128–33. The Oral Torah, specifically the Mishnah, is referred to as a mystery in some rabbinic sources where it is said to identify Israel as God’s children. See Tanh. Ki Tissa 34; Tanh. Vayyera 6; Exod. Rab. 47.1; Pesiq. Rab. 5; Marc Hirshman, A Rivalry of Genius: Jewish and Christian Biblical Interpretation in Late Antiquity (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1996), 17–19.



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 419

explains that for every verse in Scripture that defames God, there is a verse that affirms his perfection and that the verses that accuse God are refuted by creation: “The sayings accusatory of God who made the heaven are both rendered void by the opposite sayings which are alongside them, and are refuted by the creation, for they were not written by a prophetic hand” (3.46.1). In order to identify the parts of Scripture that speak accurately about God, they must be checked against God’s own “handwriting,” manifest in his creation (3.45.4).57 Simon accepts this idea but then asks how one is to deal with matters concerning law that cannot readily be compared to creation. How is it possible to distinguish the things in the law that are from Moses and thus authentic from the false interpolations (3.48.1)? In response, Peter tells him about Jesus, whose coming is foretold in Scripture (Gen 49:10) and through whose teachings one is able to correctly understand Scripture: “Believing his teaching, you will know what of the Scriptures are true and what are false” (3.49.2). The difficulties involved in the task of distinguishing the truth from the false interpolations are illustrated with Jesus’s sayings from Matt 11:28, “Come unto me all who labor,” where “all who labor” is taken to refer to those who are struggling to find the truth in Scripture; and Matt 7:7: “Seek and find,” understood to mean that the true meaning of Scripture is not readily apparent but needs to be searched for. The indispensability of Jesus’s teachings is established by invoking John 10:9, “I am the gate of life,” and John 10:3, “My sheep hear my voice” (3.52). Jesus’s words in Matt 5:17, “I have not come to destroy the law … but to fulfill” are understood as an affirmation of the continued validity of Scripture, once freed from the false pericopes. Although it may appear that Jesus did destroy some things from the law, Peter explains to Simon, this is not so. Rather, these things did not really belong to God’s law, and whatever passes away while heaven and earth still exist (see Matt 5:18), such as, for instance, the institution of sacrifices, were never meant to be part of the law (Hom. 3.51.3).58 These things that do not belong to Scrip57. For a more detailed account of this idea, see Carlson, Jewish-Christian Interpretation, 170–77. 58. See Ep. Pet. 2:3–5, where Peter complains that some have distorted his teachings to claim that the law is dissolved and then quotes Matt 5:17–18 to refute this accusation and affirm the continued validity of the law. As noted by Holger M. Zellentin, this literal understanding of Matt 5:17–18 distinguishes the Homilies from the Greek and Syriac tradition, where it is generally understood to mean that Jesus fulfilled the

420

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

ture in its original form will be “uprooted,” as Jesus said: “Every plant which the heavenly father has not planted shall be rooted up” (Matt 15:13; Hom. 3.52.1). Thus, this phrase, by which the Matthean Jesus rejects the “tradition of the elders” that he accuses the Pharisees of having added to the biblical law, is by the Homilies’ Jesus used to refer to the false passages of the Written Torah. Hence, according to the Homilies, fulfilling the torah means excising the false interpolations and restoring it to its original state. In response to Simon’s question how Jesus taught his followers to read Scripture properly, Peter adduces sayings of Jesus—again mostly from the Gospel of Matthew—to disprove false claims about God (Hom. 3.55–57). Those who believe, as Scripture teaches, that God takes oaths are refuted by Jesus’s words in Matt 5:37, “Let your yes be yes and no, no”; those who deny the resurrection of the dead, by Matt 22:32, “God is not of the dead but of the living” (see Mark 12:27; Luke 20:38); and those who erroneously believe that God tests people in order to know their character by the noncanonical saying “The tempter is the wicked one.”59 That God is not all-knowing, an idea one might get from reading Scripture, is refuted by Jesus’s saying in Matt 6:8 (see 6:32), “For your heavenly father knows what you need before you ask him,” and that he does not see everything, by Matt 6:6, “Pray in secret, and your father, who sees secret things, will reward you.” The notion that God really lives in the temple is refuted by Matt 5:34–35, “Swear not by heaven, for it is God’s throne; nor by earth, for it is his footstool,”60 and those who think that God is pleased with sacrifices, by Matt 9:13 and 12:7 (quoting Hos 6:6), “God desires mercy and not sacrifice; knowledge of him and not burnt offerings.” To emphasize that God—the only God who exists and who created the world and gave the law—is good, a point that Simon repeatedly contests, Peter quotes Jesus’s saying from Matt 7:11: “If you then, who are law so that it no longer needs to be kept (Qur’an’s Legal Culture, 129–31). This places the Homilies on the side of the rabbis, who likewise understood it literally, as seen from their parody of the Sermon of the Mount in b. Shabb. 116a–b. See Zellentin, Rabbinic Parodies of Jewish and Christian Lierature (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 160–62, who argues that the rabbis gleefully exploit the tension between the literal meaning of Matt 5:17–18 and its patristic interpretation to imply that the gospel is distorted by its Christian readers. 59. The saying is attested only here (see Kline, Sayings of Jesus, 165). 60. Matt 23:21, where God is said to dwell in the temple, is not mentioned in the Homilies.



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 421

evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” The list of sayings adduced by Peter concludes with the Shema (“Hear, O Israel, the Lord your God is one”) to refute those who are misled by Scripture to believe that there are many gods.61 Jesus’s teachings about God corresponds to the uncorrupted prewritten content of the Torah given to Moses; accordingly, reading Scripture in light of his teachings will enable one to expose the false pericopes and arrive at the true meaning of Scripture. That Jesus restores the torah to the form that God had originally intended is an idea that the Homilist shares with Matthew,62 but whereas Matthew’s Jesus advocates a return to God’s original word by rejecting the oral “tradition of the elders” (Matt 15:2 // Mark 7:5), the Homilist’s Jesus rejects parts of the Written Torah while insisting that its correct understanding depends on an oral interpretive tradition external to it.63 Hence, with regard to the interpretation of Scripture, the Homilist sides not with Matthew’s Jesus but with Matthew’s Pharisees and with the rabbis. 61. For a more detailed analysis of the teachings of the True Prophet as hermeneutical key, see Carlson, Jewish-Christian Interpretation, 88–105; Duncan, Novel Hermeneutics, 83–92. 62. See also the claim in Didascalia Apostolorum (2 and 26) that the first law, given before Israel’s sin with the golden calf, consisted only of the Ten Commandments and some additional laws (“the judgments”) and that this is the true law affirmed by Jesus (26). This is a much more radical reduction of the scope of the law than in the Homilies, but the idea that Jesus’s teachings determine what constitutes the true law is similar. That the Decalogue alone was revealed to Moses at Sinai is an idea that some rabbinic texts (y. Ber. 1.5; b. Ber. 12a) associate with minim, a term that the rabbis used to refer to Jesus-oriented Jews and others who in their opinion held heretical views. 63. On Matthew’s tendency toward legal “originalism,” see Holger M. Zellentin, “Jesus and the Tradition of the Elders: Originalism and Traditionalim in Early Judean Legal Theory,” in Beyond the Gnostic Gospels: Studies Building on the Work of Elaine Pagels, ed. Eduard Iricinschi, Lance Jenott, Nicola D. Lewis, and Philippa Townsend (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 379–403. Zellentin identifies two interpretive positions within Second Temple Judaism that he calls originalism and traditionalism, respectively. The originalists, represented by the Sadducees, regarded the Written Torah as the sole basis for all legal observances and were opposed to any obvious change or addition to what they saw as the original meaning of the biblical text. The traditionalists, represented by the Pharisees (and later rabbis), by contrast, understood the will of God to be embodied in the Torah read through a living tradition of interpretation.

422

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

The Tradition from Moses as a Hermeneutical Key to Scripture The emphasis on Jesus’s teachings as a necessary hermeneutical tool for a correct understanding of Scripture notwithstanding, the Homilies regard the oral tradition transmitted from Moses among non-Jesus-oriented Jews as an alternate but equally valid guide to Scripture. This applies also after the Jesus event, and again a saying of Jesus from the Gospel of Matthew serves as proof. Jesus, Peter points out, urged his followers to listen to the scribes and Pharisees because they “sit on Moses’ seat” (Matt 23:1– 3) and are entrusted with “the key to the kingdom” (Hom. 3.18.3; see 3.51; 11.29). Given that the Homilies’ description of the law of God as given by Moses “without writing” (ἀγράφως, 3.47.1) and as having been delivered “with the explanations” (σὺν ταῖς ἑπιλύσεσιν) to seventy men (2.38.1) goes beyond the Pharisaic “tradition of the elders” and is quite similar to the rabbinic doctrine of the Oral Torah as it was being developed in the third and fourth centuries, Annette Reed has suggested that the Homilist saw in Matthew’s Pharisees rabbinic Jews of his own time and accepted their claim to be the latest link in a line of succession going back to Moses.64 If she is correct, the Homilist’s penchant to excuse the Pharisees and depict them in a more favorable light than Matthew makes sense as part of his general tendency to accommodate non-Jesus-oriented Jews. For instance, the Homilies omit Jesus’s diatribe against the scribes and Pharisees in

64. Reed, “When Did Rabbis,” 888–91. While earlier scholarship often assumed the identification of Matthew’s Pharisees with rabbis, Shaye J. D. Cohen has established that early rabbis did not self-identify as Pharisees and that patristic evidence points in the same direction. See Cohen, “The Significance of Yavneh: Pharisees, Rabbis, and the End of Jewish Sectarianism,” HUCA 55 (1984): 27–53. In her study of the Christian evidence, Reed confirms this, concluding that the equation between Pharisees and rabbis became prevalent only in the fourth century at about the same time as the rabbis began to embrace elements of a distinctly Pharisaic heritage. On the rabbinic doctrine of the Oral Torah, see m. Avot 1–5 (chain of transmission); Sifre Deut. 351; y. Meg. 4.1; y. Pe’ah 2.6; Baumgarten, “Literary Evidence,” 42–47; Shuve, “Doctrine of the False Pericopes,” 441; Carlson, Jewish-Christian Interpretation, 126–27; Reed, “When Did Rabbis,” 888–89. In the Epistula Petri, appended to the Homilies, the transmission of oral teachings among the followers of Moses is presented as the model for Peter’s disciples, and in the same way that carefully transmitted oral teachings secure the correct interpretation of Scripture, oral instruction is necessary in order for the books of Peter’s teachings to be correctly understood (Ep. Pet. 1–3; see Reed, “ ‘Jewish Christianity’ as Counter-history,” 194; Carlson, Jewish-Christian Interpretation, 115–21).



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 423

Matt 23:4–6, instead suggesting that he sent people to them because they knew “the true things of the law” (3.51.1), a phrase that seems to imply that they know to distinguish what is true from what is false in the Scriptures.65 Even when he does criticize them, the Homilist always seems to add some mitigating circumstances. While conceding that Jesus accused them of being hypocrites, he is careful to point out that “our teacher” was referring only to some of them, and he seems to attribute authority to the seat of Moses itself in spite of the shortcomings of some of its occupants (Hom. 11.28–29). In a private conversation with his followers, Peter explains that God sent the True Prophet Jesus to the world because the people did not listen to the scribes and Pharisees and because the latter did not share their knowledge, thereby preventing the people from obtaining eternal life: “Ask your father, and he will inform you; your elders, and they will tell you” [Deut 32:7]. This father and these elders ought to be inquired of. But you have not inquired whose is the time of the kingdom and whose is the seat of prophecy, even though he himself [Jesus] points this out, saying “The scribes and the Pharisees sit in the seat of Moses; all things that they say to you, hear them” [see Matt 23:2–3]. “Hear them,” he said, as entrusted with the key to the kingdom [τὴν κλεῖδα τῆς βασιλείας], which is knowledge, which alone can open the gate of life, through which alone is the entrance to the eternal life.” “But truly,” he says, “they possess the key, but those wishing to enter they do not let them do so.” On this account, I say, he himself, rising from his seat as a father for his children, proclaiming the things which from the beginning were transmitted in secret to the worthy, extending mercy even to the gentiles, and having compassion for the souls of all, neglected his own blood. (3.18.3–19.1)66

This passage appears in a context where it is emphasized that access to true prophecy is necessary in order not to be misled by the false passages of Scripture (3.17), and from the lines directly preceding it, it seems that “your father” refers simultaneously to Adam and Jesus, who are both incarnations of the True Prophet. The quote from Matt 23:2 seems to establish 65. See Bautch, “Obscured by the Scriptures,” 135 n. 87; Duncan, Novel Hermeneutics, 89. 66. This is the Homilies’ only reference to Jesus’s blood, and it seems to be used in a genealogical sense to affirm his place within the Jewish people rather than denoting his suffering and death (see Reed and Boustan, “Blood and Atonement,” 344).

424

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

the identity of the “elders” as the scribes and Pharisees, whose authority Jesus himself affirmed. In Midrash Sifre we find a similar expansion on Deut 32:7, where “your father” is understood to mean prophets and “your elders” is taken as a reference to the rabbis themselves as the successors of the biblical elders, who were divinely authorized to share Moses’s leadership and judiciary functions (Num 11:16–25).67 If Reed is correct to claim that the Homilist identifies the Pharisees with rabbinic Jews of his own time, the identification of the scribes and Pharisees with the elders in our passage provides additional evidence that the Homilist acknowledged the rabbis’ claim to be the present-day extension of these biblical elders. With this interpretation of Deut 32:7, Peter argues that Scripture itself indicates that a prophetic source outside it must be consulted in order to arrive at a correct understanding, and that this source is either the True Prophet Jesus or the scribes and Pharisees/rabbis, who are connected to “the seat of prophecy” through an unbroken line of succession from Moses. As the custodians of the seat of Moses, the scribes and Pharisees are entrusted with the key to the kingdom even if some of them are imperfect and have failed in their responsibility to the people. Because of the failure of individual scribes and Pharisees in this regard, and because of the people’s failure to seek their advice, God has sent a new teacher and prophet—Jesus—and this time the teachings that were previously reserved for Jews are extended also to the gentiles. In line with the two equivalent ways to salvation outlined in Hom. 8.5–7, one through Moses and the other through Jesus, the Homilist sees prophetic teachings emanating from the “seat of prophecy” (3.18.1) as being transmitted through two parallel lines, one through the Pharisees/rabbis in the “seat of Moses” and one through Peter’s bishops on the “throne of Christ” (3.70, see 3.60).68 Thus, this passage affirms the continued validity of the teachings from Moses transmitted to his followers and at the same time explains why a new teacher was nevertheless necessary. In sum, the two equivalent paths to salvation explicitly outlined in Hom. 8.5–7 are matched by two parallel hermeneutical keys to Scripture: the teachings of Jesus transmitted via Peter and his followers, on the one 67. On this passage in Sifre Deuteronomy, see Steven D. Fraade, From Tradition to Commentary: Torah and Its Interpretation in the Midrash Sifre to Deuteronomy (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1991), 76–77. 68. For this passage, see Reed, “ ‘Jewish Christianity’ as Counter-history,” 191–93; Reed, “When Did Rabbis,” 887–88; Duncan, Novel Hermeneutics, 70–73, 82–83.



Receptions of the Gospel of Matthew 425

hand, and the oral interpretive tradition transmitted from Moses to rabbinic Jews via the biblical elders and the Pharisees, on the other. “Obeying Christ,” says Peter, “we learn to know what is false from the scriptures. Moreover, being furnished by our ancestors with the truths of the scriptures, we know that there is only one who has made the heavens and the earth, the God of the Jews, and of all those who worship him. Our fathers, with pious thought, setting down a fixed belief in him as the true God, handed down this belief to us, that we may know that if anything is said against God, it is a falsehood” (16.14.3–5).69 The immense significance that the Homilies attribute to the ability to correctly understand Scripture is made clear in Peter’s statement that “every man who wishes to be saved must become, as the Teacher said, a judge of the books [i.e., Scripture] written to try us” (18.20.4). Salvation, according to the Homilies, depends on knowledge of God, and to achieve such knowledge one must read Scripture either with the teachings of Jesus as the guide or with the help of the interpretive tradition handed down from Moses. Conclusions The impact of the Gospel of Matthew on both Rec. 1.27–71 and the Homilies is evident but is expressed in different ways in the two texts. Like Matthew, the author of Rec. 1.27–71 seems to address an audience made up primarily of Jews, and he sees torah observance in combination with adherence to Jesus as true Judaism. The mission to the gentiles is mentioned only en passant, and although it appears likely that the author of Rec. 1.27–71 embraces a Matthean model prescribing full torah observance and circumcision for Jesus-oriented gentiles, the possibility that he adhered to a Paul-Acts model and considered them bound only by the Apostolic Decree cannot be ruled out. The Homilies, on the other hand, focus on the mission to the gentiles and the significance that Jesus has for them. This author/redactor does not share Matthew’s model for the inclusion of gentiles but uses the Gospel of Matthew to demonstrate that Jesus’s teachings constitute the hermeneutical key to a correct reading of the Jewish Scriptures without which there is no salvation. At the same time, he maintains that Jesus affirmed the teachings from Moses transmitted 69. This is very different, indeed, from the view that a veil covers the minds of the people of Israel so that they do not understand Scripture and that this veil will be removed only if they turn to Jesus (2 Cor 3:14–16).

426

Karin Hedner Zetterholm

among non-Jesus-oriented Jews as an alternate but equally valid guide to a correct understanding of Scripture, again appealing to a saying of Jesus from the Gospel of Matthew as proof. Thus, the Homilies cleverly use the Gospel of Matthew to prove that Jesus himself, the authoritative interpreter of the torah, affirmed the Homilies’ own view, according to which there are two paths to knowledge about God and to salvation, one via the teachings of Moses and the other one via the teachings of Jesus. That the Homilies can be seen as a product of a development that took place within Judaism is perhaps not as evident as in the case of Rec. 1.27–71, but as I have tried to show, the Homilies display a number of features that seem to point to a Jewish milieu, albeit one in which there was probably also a strong presence of gentiles.

Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables since Jülicher Nathan Eubank

It has become customary for scholarship on the parables to recount the story of the rise of their interpretation in modernity. This story, repeated everywhere from introductory literature to commentaries and monographs, goes something like this: Jesus was a gifted teacher who used parables for their vividness and memorability, but for centuries the parables were obscured by allegorizing interpreters.1 From an ocean of premodern commentary, New Testament scholars almost invariably select Augustine on the good Samaritan to illustrate the excesses of parable interpretation until the nineteenth century. Modern parable scholarship finally dawned with Adolf Jülicher’s two-volume history of interpretation

1. E.g., C. H. Dodd, The Parables of the Kingdom, rev. ed. (New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1961), 1–3; Joachim Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus, trans. Samuel H. Hooke, 6th ed. (New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1963), 18–19; Robert H. Stein, An Introduction to the Parables of Jesus (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1981), 53–62; W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997), 2:378–80, though Allison’s subsequent work takes a different tack; e.g., Dale C. Allison Jr., review of The Parables of Jesus: A Commentary, by Arland J. Hultgren, HBT 24 (2002): 132–34; with criticism of modern allegorizing Klyne R. Snodgrass, “From Allegorizing to Allegorizing: A History of the Interpretation of the Parables of Jesus,” in The Challenge of Jesus’ Parables, ed. Richard N. Longenecker (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 3–29; David B. Gowler, What Are They Saying about the Parables (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist, 2000), 3–10; Anthony O. Ewherido, Matthew’s Gospel and Judaism in the Late First Century C.E.: The Evidence from Matthew’s Chapter on Parables (Matthew 13:1–52) (New York: Lang, 2006), 16–17; Grant R. Osborne, Matthew, ZECNT (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010), 503–4; Brandon D. Crowe, The Obedient Son: Deuteronomy and Christology in the Gospel of Matthew, BZNW 188 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2012), 218.

-427-

428

Nathan Eubank

and reassessment of the parables in 1888 and 1889.2 Jülicher claimed that allegory was too complex and esoteric for the simple preacher from Galilee. When Jesus preached, his parables had a single, simple point. Jülicher recognized, however, that the gospels themselves offer allegorical explanations of the parables (e.g., Mark 4; Matt 13:18–23, 36–43), so he concluded that the corrupting influence of allegory must have taken hold very early, in the years immediately following Jesus’s death. Though no one accepts all of Jülicher’s proposals—his interpretations of the parables have often been condemned as banal, his insistence on one meaning too simple, and his definition of allegory fallacious—it is often said that he successfully ushered in the critical study of the parables by exposing the excesses of premodern interpretation, beginning with the early post-Easter reception of Jesus’s teaching.3 Though Jülicher gets the credit for inaugurating modern parable scholarship, the last century owes most to C. H. Dodd’s 1935 The Parables of the Kingdom, along with Joachim Jeremias’s The Parables of Jesus, first in German in 1947 and then in subsequent German and English editions. Dodd and Jeremias followed Jülicher in dismissing past interpreters but found Jülicher’s own exegesis wanting, so they set out to ground their interpretation in the specificity of Jesus’s eschatological teaching as it unfolded in conflict with Jewish leaders.4 In the years since Dodd’s and Jeremias’s landmark contributions, parable scholarship has grown diverse methodologically, but Jülicher remains the turning point between ecclesiastical flights of fancy and serious scholarly investigation.5 This narrative is past due for reassessment. The easy dismissal of interpreters from Jesus’s earliest followers to the 1890s arouses suspicion, as does the drearily predictable citation of Augustine on the good Samaritan. Most importantly for this essay, scholars since Jülicher have not 2. Adolf Jülicher, Die Gleichnisreden Jesu, 2 vols. (Freiburg: Mohr, 1888–1889). 3. See Albert Schweitzer: “Jülicher has an incomparable power of striking fire out of every one of the parables.” Schweitzer, The Quest of the Historical Jesus: A Critical Study, 2nd English ed., trans. William Montgomery (London: Black, 1926), 264. On allegory, see Hans-Josef Klauck, Allegorie und Allegorese in synoptischen Gleichnistexten, NTAbh 14 (Münster: Aschendorff, 1986); on multiple points in the parables, see Craig L. Blomberg, Interpreting the Parables, 2nd ed. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2012). 4. For Dodd this meant Jesus’s realized eschatology; for Jeremias, eschatology in the process of realization. 5. Calvin and one or two others are sometimes mentioned as forerunners of modern interpretative asceticism, e.g., Ewherido, Matthew’s Gospel and Judaism, 16.



Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables 429

taken seriously the ways in which their own theological commitments have shaped interpretation of the parables. This essay explores the role that anti-Judaism and aversion to merit have played in the interpretation of Matthew’s parables, both in scholarship devoted to the historical Jesus and in studies of the First Gospel itself. A brief explanation of the term merit and its relevance to antiJudaism is in order. The word is used here in roughly the same way it is commonly used in New Testament scholarship, especially of older vintage. It refers to actions or states of being that make one worthy of God or of the next life. Merit, thus defined, was often assumed to be basic to Judaism. So, for example, when Dodd says, as he often does, that Jesus told a certain parable to condemn vain hopes of earning merit, or that Matthew introduced the principle of merit into one of Jesus’s parables, he means that Jesus opposed the Jewish understanding of salvation and that Matthew diluted Jesus’s parables by reintroducing some of this same Jewishness.6 More recent scholarship is eager to avoid anti-Judaism but typically retains the assumption that merit is antithetical to the message of Jesus and the gospels. Dodd and Jeremias Dodd and Jeremias credited Jülicher with eliminating the “thick layer of dust” of centuries of allegory, but both were unsatisfied with Jülicher’s own interpretations and seek to go beyond them by taking up an insight first articulated by Arthur Cadoux: the parables must be grounded in a setting in the life of Jesus.7 As Dodd puts it, “The task of the interpreter of the parables is to find out, if he can, the setting of a parable in the situation contemplated by the gospels, and hence the application which would suggest itself to one who stood in that situation.”8 Similarly Jeremias: “Jesus spoke to men of flesh and blood; he addressed himself to the situation of the moment. Each of his parables has a definite historical setting,” and if recovered, his “authentic voice” will be heard again.9 Stated negatively, this

6. See below, passim. 7. Jeremias, Parables of Jesus, 19; Arthur T. Cadoux, The Parables of Jesus, Their Art and Use (New York: Macmillan, 1931). 8. Dodd, Parables of the Kingdom, 13–14. 9. Jeremias, Parables of Jesus, 22. Jeremias also credits Bertram T. D. Smith with

430

Nathan Eubank

means that Dodd and Jeremias typically reject the setting provided in the gospels themselves. It is a fair point that many of the parables must have had a life prior to being assigned their current place in the gospels, provided they were not creations ex nihilo of the evangelists.10 But how is it possible to discover the “definite historical setting” of a parable in the life of Jesus if the evangelists do not disclose it? It is here that merit plays a decisive role. Dodd and Jeremias take it for granted that the historical Jesus was endlessly condemning the works-righteousness and fearful striving of the Pharisees and other Jews, while offering divine acceptance to his own followers.11 This core assumption often provides the context, the “definite historical setting”—into which the parables must fit. For Dodd and Jeremias it is axiomatic that Jesus did not teach his followers to try to be found worthy of God, nor that eternal life is in any sense “repayment for deeds,” as a Matthean addition in 16:27 puts it. Therefore, any parable in the gospels that seems to say this can be rejected as spurious (in whole or part) or creatively reinterpreted. The parables of the weeds among wheat (13:24–30) and the dragnet (13:47–48) are for Matthew illustrations of eschatological sifting, the separation of the good from the bad at the “end of the age.” Dodd dismisses the interpretations in Matt 13:36– 43, 49–50 as self-evidently Matthew’s own invention, suggesting that the weeds among wheat illustrates the coming of the kingdom to sinful Israel and the dragnet admonishes Jesus’s followers to cast a wide net in their missionary endeavors.12 Similarly, Jeremias alleges that Jesus used these parables to teach patience to those awaiting God’s justice, but Matthew transformed them into allegories of the last judgment.13 Matthew’s sheep and goats pericope (Matt 25:31–46) concludes Matthew’s final block of teaching (24–25) and was often read over the centuries as a vivid reminder

seeing this. See Smith, The Parables of the Synoptic Gospels: A Critical Study (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1937). 10. Matthew 13’s expansion of Mark 4 furnishes obvious examples. For the possibility of the evangelists composing parables, see, e.g., John P. Meier’s discussion of the good Samaritan, Probing the Authenticity of the Parables, vol. 5 of A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2016), 199–210. 11. This tendency is more pronounced in Dodd than in Jeremias. 12. Dodd, Parables of the Kingdom, 150. 13. Jeremias, Parables of Jesus, 85. For Jeremias, these passages illustrate “Matthew’s decided tendency to allegorical interpretation” (85).



Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables 431

of the indispensability of works of mercy for “entering into life.”14 Dodd pronounces it spurious on the grounds that the earliest sources portray Jesus only as an advocate, not a judge.15 Jeremias offers instead a surprising reinterpretation: the passage is intended to reject the quest to earn merit in God’s eyes.16 The sheep are those who do good works without realizing it.17 Another essential element in Dodd and Jeremias’s treatment of parables of judgment is their conviction that parables that the gospels present as illustrations of the judgment of the world or of the church were actually directed at Jesus’s Jewish opponents. As Jeremias puts it, “Many parables which the primitive Church connected with the disciples of Jesus, were originally addressed to a different audience, namely, to the Pharisees, the scribes, or the crowd.”18 Both men give sound reasons for supposing that the evangelists might have been compelled to rework traditions to address their own settings, but the effect of this assumption is the construction of a Jesus who was forever condemning Jews but would not condemn “Christians.”19 Their treatment of the parable of the talents (Matt 25:14– 14. As often noted, the sheep and goats is not a parable, but it is commonly considered alongside the others in Matt 24–25, and it arguably discloses the reality to which the rest of 24–25 points. 15. Dodd, Parables of the Kingdom, 64, 148. See 2 Cor 5:10. 16. Jeremias, Parables of Jesus, 208–10. The final judgment “hat mit Verdienst nichts zu tun” but only concerns “freie Gnade Gottes.” See Jeremias, Die Gleichnisse Jesu, 11th ed. (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1998), 207. Jesus used the language of reward only to subvert it; Matt 25:37–40 is “die Aufhebung des Lohngedankens.” See Jeremias, Neutestamentliche Theologie (Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 1971), 208–9. 17. On this interpretation see also Bo Reicke, “The New Testament Conception of Reward,” in Aux sources de la tradition chréttienne: Mélanges offerts à M. Maurice Goguel, BT (Paris: Delachaux and Niestlé, 1950), 195–206, 203; Günther Bornkamm, “Der Lohngedanke im Neuen Testament,” in Studien zu Antike und Urchristentum: Gesammelte Aufsätze (Munich: Kaiser, 1963), 2:80–81; Sigurd Grindheim, “Ignorance Is Bliss: Attitudinal Aspects of the Judgment according to Works in Matthew 25:31– 46,” NovT 50 (2008): 313–31. Rather than hinting at an un-Matthean discouragement of expecting divine recompense, the surprise is presumably at the news that mercy for the needy is done for the Son of Man. 18. Jeremias, Parables of Jesus, 38. 19. Jeremias cites Matt 18 as evidence of the urgent need to have something to say that speaks directly to the situation in Matthew’s church (Parables of Jesus, 66). See Matt 18:12–14; Luke 15:3–7.

432

Nathan Eubank

30; Luke 19:11–27) is a clear example of this tendency. Matthew places this parable in his last great discourse, in the midst of a series of passages warning disciples that the Lord will return at an unknown time to repay disciples according to their deeds and to punish those who failed to work on his behalf.20 Discarding Matthew and Luke’s narrative settings, Dodd identifies Jesus’s condemnation of Jewish self-righteousness as the true home of the parable. To whom, then, is the judgment to be applied? who is the servant of God who is condemned for an over-caution amounting to breach of trust? I would suggest that he is the type of pious Jew who comes in for so much criticism in the Gospels. He seeks personal security in a meticulous observance of the Law. He “builds a hedge about the Law,” and tithes mint, anise and cumin, to win merit in the sight of God.… By a policy of selfish exclusiveness, he makes the religion of Israel barren.21

Likewise, for Jeremias, the evangelists turned the parable into an allegory of divine rewards and punishments for the church, but for Jesus it was a condemnation of the Jewish leaders, especially the scribes, who neglected God’s grace.22 Interestingly, then, a parable that in its Matthean context warns Jesus’s disciples to work hard in preparation for the return of the Lord—and for Matthew this explicitly includes tithing mint, anise, and cumin (23:23)—becomes a rejection of just such a view.23 In Dodd and Jeremias’s reconstructions, the parable is an attack on Jewish scrupulosity but works just as well as a rejection of Matthew’s understanding of the law. Time and again Dodd and Jeremias posit that a parable speaking of the judgment of the world or the church is unbelievable, arguing that Jesus must have originally wielded the parable against the Jewish people or their leaders.24 According to Jeremias, Matthew and Luke make the parable of the faithful or unfaithful servant (Matt 24:45–51; Luke 12:41–48) about the 20. Luke’s version has often been read along similar lines, but it is also possible that it is oriented more toward Jesus’s entry into Jerusalem. 21. Dodd, Parables of the Kingdom, 118–19. 22. Jeremias, Parables of Jesus, 62. 23. “Anise” translates ἄνηθον in the KJV. 24. See Robert W. Funk: “I suspect Jeremias, like Cadoux before him, is confusing the argumentative character of the parable with a debate and controversy context; the two are by no means correlative.” Funk, Language, Hermeneutic, and Word of God: The



Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables 433

return of Jesus to judge Christian leaders, but for Jesus it was only against the Jewish leaders.25 The trio of parables spoken against the chief priests, elders, and Pharisees (Matt 21:28–22:14) are for the most part spared rough handling. Dodd accepts the wicked tenants as authentic despite its apparent allegorical features, glossing it as a prophecy of God’s judgment of “the Jews.”26 According to Jeremias, Matthew added his strange epilogue about the man with no wedding garment to the wedding banquet (Matt 22:1–14 and parr.) to “introduce the principle of merit” because he worried that the “free grace of God” preached by Jesus would lead to immoral living. The original parable was only spoken against the Jews. Dodd compares the Matthean epilogue to Paul’s “Judaistic” opponents who were concerned about the acceptance of gentiles “on too easy terms.”27 Dodd and Jeremias also take it for granted that Jesus’s positive message was an offer of grace to those without merit and that parables seeming to support this message may be accepted as authentic. For example, the workers in the vineyard was meant to teach “the legally minded” that God is gracious to those “who had no merit,” pitting two worlds against each other: one of merit and law against grace and the gospel.28 Similarly, the parable of the lost sheep (Matt 18:12–14; Luke 15:3–7) is accepted more or less as it stands as a description of the “abounding love” of God, though both men argue that Matthew has reworked it to address the disciples.29 In sum, Dodd and Jeremias find in the parables a Jesus who condemned the vain Jewish quest for merit and whose message of grace was Problem of Language in the New Testament and Contemporary Theology (New York: Harper & Row, 1966), 177. 25. Dodd, Parables of Jesus, 58. 26. Dodd, Parables of the Kingdom, 92. The possibility of Matthean supersessionism is perhaps strongest in 21:33–45. For an argument that the parable is directed against the immediate opponents and not against Israel as a whole, see Matthias Konradt, Israel, Kirche und die Volker im Matthausevangelium, WUNT 215 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007), 187–209. 27. Dodd, Parables of the Kingdom, 94. 28. Dodd, Parables of the Kingdom, 95; Jeremias, Die Gleichnisse Jesu, 138. In 1937 Smith read the parable as Jesus’s condemnation the belief “prevalent among the pietists of his time” that “by the scrupulous fulfilment of the commandments of the Law and by the performance, in addition, of such good works as almsgiving, prayer and fasting, men could accumulate a treasury of merit which constituted a claim for rich reward in the future life” (Parables of the Synoptic Gospels, 186). See Matt 6:1–21. 29. Dodd, Parables of the Kingdom, 91–92; Jeremias, Parables of Jesus, 131.

434

Nathan Eubank

diluted by his earliest followers. Though they do not press the point, their portrait of the First Evangelist overlaps substantially with the Judaism that Jesus opposed. After Dodd and Jeremias In the decades since Dodd’s and Jeremias’s books, parable scholarship has grown much more diverse methodologically, with various competing literary and historical approaches vying for supremacy, some focusing on Jesus, others on the gospels. Chief areas of contention and difference are the presumed historical reliability of the gospels, the question of Jesus’s eschatology, and the question of which sources are important for understanding the parables (Q and Thomas). Despite the diversity of approaches, scholars are remarkably consistent in their unease about reward and eschatological sifting, though the open disparagement of Judaism so common in the earlier twentieth century has all but disappeared. Bernard Scott’s updating of Dodd and Jeremias’s interpretation of the parable of the talents is typical of the softened anti-Judaism of much scholarship in the latter part of the twentieth century. Commenting on the parable of the talents in his 1989 book, Hear Then the Parable, Scott objects to the suggestion that the third servant, who thought his master was harsh and demanding, represents the Jewish fear of the harsh yoke of the torah. Scott points out that rabbinic literature shows that the rabbis believed the torah was God’s gracious gift.30 Instead, Scott argues, Jesus used this parable to parody rabbinic trust in the law by showing that they are paralyzed by a conventional vision, lacking the freedom that Jesus offers.31 In 1991 Jan Lambrecht argued that the third servant refers to the scribes and Pharisees who “adhered strictly to the law” and opposed the salvation Jesus brought to the world.32 In his 2000 The Parables of Jesus, Arland Hultgren makes a similar argument but shorn of anti-Jewish polemic. Hultgren concedes that “the note of judgment is clear” but maintains there is still “much 30. Bernard B. Scott, Hear Then the Parable: A Commentary on the Parables of Jesus (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989), 233. 31. Scott, Hear Then the Parable, 233–35. See on the unforgiving servant, which Scott reads as an exposé of the falseness of Jewish presumptions of superiority and shows, like Rom 3:23, that all are sinners (275–80). 32. Jan Lambrecht, SJ, Out of the Treasure: The Parables in the Gospel of Matthew, LTPM 10 (Leuven: Peeters, 1992).



Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables 435

that can be celebrated.”33 The parable’s point is similar to Martin Luther’s slogan “Sin boldly.”34 Disciples should be risk takers rather that succumbing to “a form of calculation that assumes that there is only one way to please God.”35 Robert Farrar Capon similarly finds the parable teaching that one must trust in God’s grace.36 The Jesus Seminar’s edition of the five gospels ranks pericopes based on the strength of likelihood of authenticity, as determined by the votes of all the fellows. Red is authentic, pink probably authentic, gray probably not, black definitely not. Merit as defined by this study is a reliable indicator of whether the Seminar fellows would deem a saying authentic.37 Parables that seem to refer to judgment of the world or of Jesus’s followers, such as the dragnet, the wise slave, and the sheep and the goats, are predictably black. The parable of the workers in the vineyard is red. The unforgiving servant and the talents are pink, but their concluding statements about divine judgment are black (Matt 18:35; 25:30).38 Studies based on hypothesized strata of Q often come to similar conclusions. Some, such as Stephen Patterson, Burton Mack, and Gerd Lüdemann, argue that the earliest testimony to Jesus’s teaching was free of eschatological judgment but that this theme was added as an expression of the early church’s frustration regarding missionary failures or the death of Jesus.39

33. Arland J. Hultgren, The Parables of Jesus: A Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 280. 34. Hultgren, Parables of Jesus, 280. 35. Hultgren, Parables of Jesus, 280. 36. Robert Farrar Capon, Kingdom, Grace, Judgment: Paradox, Outrage, and Vindication in the Parables of Jesus (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 423. 37. Robert W. Funk, Roy W. Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar, The Five Gospels: The Search for the Authentic Words of Jesus; New Translation and Commentary (New York: Macmillan, 1993). One might object that the approach of the Jesus Seminar is both extreme and passé, but the point here is to illustrate the importance of merit and antiJudaism across an otherwise diverse scholarly landscape. 38. Matthew 25:29 is gray. 39. Stephen J. Patterson, “The End of Apocalypse: Rethinking the Eschatological Jesus,” ThTo 52 (1995): 29–48, esp. 35–36, drawing on John S. Kloppenborg, The Formation of Q: Trajectories in Ancient Wisdom Collections, SAC (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987); Burton Mack, The Lost Gospel: The Book of Q and Christian Origins (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993), 131–47; Gerd Lüdemann, Jesus after 2000 Years (New York: Prometheus Books, 2001). See the comments of Christopher M. Tuckett, Q and the History of Early Christianity: Studies on Q (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996); Brian

436

Nathan Eubank

There are approaches that take their primary inspiration from trends in twentieth-century literary criticism and philosophy, such as the work of Robert Funk, Dan Via, and John Dominic Crossan, among others, which draws variously on structuralism, poststructuralism, and mid-twentiethcentury metaphor theory.40 This work is difficult to summarize; it is often idiosyncratic and bristling with theoretical apparatus, but these scholars tend to share a strong antidoctrinal and antimoralizing tendency following from their emphasis on the parables as independent works of art that cannot be restated in propositional form. As Crossan put it in his 1973 study, In Parables, “the parables are the preaching, and do not merely serve the purpose of a lesson independent of them.”41 Yet morals and doctrines have a curious way of creeping back in, but morals and doctrines of a familiarly modern cast. For instance, while commenting on the wedding banquet, Funk insists that the parable cannot be restated in nonparabolic language. It is, of course, difficult for the commentator to avoid doing just that. Funk goes on to explain that the parable exposes a new logic that stands against “the religiously disposed.” It is “an affront to the ‘logic’ of piety, but good news to the dispossessed because they have no basis for a claim on God.” Only these latter “can accept the ‘logic’ of grace.”42 Despite the interesting theoretical work undergirding Funk’s analysis, the operation of a typical opposition of piety and religious convention to divine grace is apparent. William Herzog’s 1994 Parables as Subversive Speech claims to depart from the universal consensus that the parables are theological by offering instead sociopolitical readings inspired by Paulo Freire.43 Herzog accomplishes this in many cases by making the masters and kings of the parables, thought by the evangelists to represent God or Jesus, the villains, the oppressive aristocracy. The servants who come in for rebuke are the Han Gregg, The Historical Jesus and the Final Judgment Sayings in Q, WUNT 2/207 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck), 2006. 40. Funk, Language, Hermeneutic, and Word of God; Dan O. Via, The Parables: Their Literary and Existential Dimension (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1967); John Dominic Crossan, In Parables: The Challenge of the Historical Jesus (New York: Harper & Row, 1973). 41. Crossan, In Parables, 11. This antimoralizing perspective is often applied to the good Samaritan. 42. Funk, Language, Hermeneutic, and Word of God, 197. 43. William R. Herzog II, Parables as Subversive Speech: Jesus as Pedagogue of the Oppressed (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994).



Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables 437

protagonists because they defy the oppressive masters. Thus, for example, the third servant in the parable of the talents who is thrown into the outer darkness is an example of someone who spoke truth to his wealthy patron and suffered the consequences.44 The parable of the unforgiving servant shows that even the occasional attempts at beneficence by the elite end in violence.45 Herzog’s interpretations are always interesting, but not as serious historical attempts to understand the Jesus tradition or the gospels.46 Though ostensibly untheological, it might not be unfair to describe Herzog’s exegesis as the result of taking the long-standing resistance to divine judgment of deeds to the furthest possible extreme; he turns the parables inside out, casting God and law as the power of evil.47 N. T. Wright is hardly a follower of Dodd and Jeremias. He criticizes both for ignorance of Judaism and carves out his interpretation of the parables in frequent and explicit disagreement with them.48 He is also much more conservative than most scholars with the sources, not given to subjecting the gospels to the knife. Yet Wright relies heavily on one of Dodd and Jeremias’s favorite tools: parables that seem to describe the judgment of the world or Jesus’s followers really applied to Jesus’s opponents. Wright adds the additional surprise of claiming that the gospel authors agree with him. For instance, Wright finds in the parable of the talents (in its dominical, Matthean, and Lukan versions) a description of Jesus’s entry into Zion and “the great judgment which is coming very soon upon Jerusalem and her current leaders, and which signals the vindication of Jesus and his people as the true Israel.”49 While this might be possible as a description of the 44. Herzog, Parables as Subversive Speech, 164–68. 45. Herzog, Parables as Subversive Speech, 148. 46. See Meier, Marginal Jew, 5:356–59. 47. Similarly, but with stronger ties to Matthew’s own concerns, see Sharon H. Ringe, “Solidarity and Contextuality: Readings of Matthew 18:21–35,” in Reading from This Place: Social Location and Biblical Interpretation in the United States, ed. Fernando F. Segovia and Mary Ann Tolbert (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995), 199–212. For a more plausible discussion of the use of force in Matthew’s parables, see John S. Kloppenborg, “The Representative of Violence in Synoptic Parables,” in Mark and Matthew I: Comparative Readings; Understanding the Earliest Gospels in Their First Century Settings, ed. Eve-Marie Becker and Anders Runesson, WUNT 271 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 323–51. 48. E.g., N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996), 177. 49. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, 636.

438

Nathan Eubank

Lukan version, it is much more difficult to defend in Matthew, yet defend it Wright does, even claiming that when early Christian texts describe the parousia they never speak of “the condemnation of some within the church.”50 Among Wright’s arguments is his contention that parables about masters and subjects usually refer to the relationship between God and Israel.51 Wright cites Dodd for support: “In Jewish usage the relation of God and Israel was so constantly represented as that of a ‘lord’ and his ‘slaves’ that a hearer of the parable would almost inevitably seek an interpretation along those lines.”52 It may be true that Jewish audiences would have been inclined to hear master-servant parables as statements about God and Israel, but it is less clear why Dodd and Wright presume that Jesus’s followers did not see themselves as part of Israel, even if a privileged remnant within it. Dodd and Wright’s argument would seem to require the Jesus movement to have been extra muros already during the life of Jesus. As unlikely as this scenario may be, Matthew’s distinctive treatment of the parable provides even more reason to read it as a description of the judgment of Jesus’s own followers.53 On the question of judgment and human merit, Wright’s Jesus is on this point very much like Dodd and Jeremias’s: Jesus judges the unfaithful of Israel but not of the church. Recent years have seen notable exceptions to these trends in historical Jesus scholarship, especially among those, such as Dale Allison, who advocate an apocalyptic or futurist eschatology for Jesus without assuming this precludes ethical concern.54 The preeminent exegetical study of Jesus’s 50. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, 635, emphasis original. There is only one, partial exception, according to Wright (1 Cor 3:12–17), and even it describes those judged as being saved. There is a long-standing tendency in NT scholarship to downplay passages that speak of the judgment of the church, but to claim that no such passages exist is remarkable. 51. “In most parables about a king and subjects, or a master and servants, the king or master stands for Israel’s god and the subjects or servants for Israel and/or her leaders or prophets. This is so both in Jesus’ teaching and in some Jewish parables” (Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, 634). 52. Dodd, Parables of the Kingdom, 112, in Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, 634. 53. See the discussion of account settling as an image of final judgment in Nathan Eubank, “Storing Up Treasure with God in the Heavens: Celestial Investments in Matthew 6:1–21,” CBQ 76 (2014): 77–92, esp. 87–88. 54. E.g., Dale C. Allison Jr., Constructing Jesus: Memory, Imagination, and History (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2010); Marius Reiser, Jesus and Judgment: The Eschatological Proclamation in Its Jewish Context (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1997).



Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables 439

parables, Klyne Snodgrass’s magisterial Stories with Intent, distinguishes itself by its balance as much as its comprehensiveness.55 Yet, the tendency to find a meritless Jesus in the parables is so pervasive in earlier literature that Snodgrass is forced to devote a considerable portion of his analysis of parables of judgment to allaying concerns regarding “works righteousness.”56 Scholarship Focused on Matthew Scholarship focused on Matthew itself does not have the same liberty to excise problematic material. Unsurprisingly, then, redaction- and narrative-critical studies of Matthew’s parables, of which there are surprisingly few, often produce conclusions that more closely reflect the concerns of the gospels. Jack Dean Kingsbury’s influential redaction-critical study of the parables in chapter 13, for instance, argues that these parables mark the point when Jesus “turns against the Jews,” addressing the disciples as the true people of God, while warning the latter that “the Church, too, will be subjected to the Great Assize.”57 One might critique Kingsbury’s Jews/ church dichotomy from a number of angles, but no one could accuse him of being inattentive to Matthew’s insistence that Jesus’s followers will be judged according to their deeds along with the rest of the world.58 55. Klyne Snodgrass, Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018). 56. See, e.g., the corrective remarks on the parable of the unforgiving servant (Snodgrass, Stories with Intent, 74–75). Amy-Jill Levine’s recent accessible study shows exemplary care in its treatment of Jews and Judaism but devotes no significant time to any of Matthew’s parables of judgment. See Levine, Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi (New York: HarperOne, 2014). In one respect the book belongs squarely inside the post-Jülicher tradition as described here: the book repeatedly assures readers that Jesus was not particularly interested in the soteriological significance of obedience. See, e.g., the discussions of the good Samaritan (77–115) and the workers in the vineyard (213–37). 57. Jack Dean Kingsbury, The Parables of Jesus in Matthew 13: A Study in Redaction-Criticism (London: SPCK, 1969), 125. 58. See also Wesley G. Olmstead, Matthew’s Trilogy of Parables: The Nation, the Nations, and the Reader in Matthew 21:28–22:14, SNTSMS 127 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003); Warren Carter and John Paul Heil, Matthew’s Parables: Audience-Oriented Perspectives, CBQMS 30 (Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1998); Ivor Harold Jones, The Matthean Parables: A Literary and Historical Commentary, NovTSup 80 (Leiden: Brill, 1995); Christian Münch, Die Gleichnisse Jesu im Matthäusevangelium: Eine Studie zu ihrer Form und Funktion

440

Nathan Eubank

Commentaries and thematic studies devoted to Matthew often follow the same trends found in Jesus scholarship. When confronted with promises of treasure in heaven, degrees of reward, and punishment of those who fail to do God’s will, commentators routinely rely on the hermeneutical prioritization of various passages, identifying other, more attractive texts as the real key to the evangelist’s theology. Matthean scholarship, and studies of reward in the New Testament generally, have often turned to the parable of the workers of the vineyard.59 This parable is glossed as a rejection of merit and made the interpretative key to everything Matthew says on the subject and often to all of Jesus’s teaching. The parable shows that disciples are “justified without works or merit on our part.”60 It is “the gospel in nuce.”61 The kingdom of heaven is obtained “all by grace.”62 Other commentators argue that Matthew uses the parable to illustrate God’s rejection of the Jews and acceptance of the gentiles.63 Another common approach in Matthean scholarship is to appeal to the image or metaphor of fruit bearing. Since the second century, some interpreters have found an essentialist anthropology encoded in New Testament fruit sayings, above all Matt 7:16–20 and its parallels.64 As one recent article on judgment in the gospels put it, Matthew’s “organic” images show that Matthew did not advocate “a kind of ‘works-righteousness,’ as though one might be regarded as righteous on account of one’s performance.”65 Instead, good deeds just happen, as fruit appears on trees. Another recent article claims that Matthew opens the door to predestinarian dualism that later gnostics found there, but Matthew’s intent was (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 2004); Ewherido, Matthew’s Gospel and Judaism, Peter Yaw Oppong-Kumi, Matthean Sets of Parables, WUNT 2/340 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013). 59. See Nathan Eubank, “What Does Matthew Say about Divine Recompense? On the Misuse of the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard (20:1–16),” JSNT 35 (2013): 242–62. E.g., R. T. France, The Gospel of Matthew, NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 258–59. 60. Lambrecht, Out of the Treasure, 85. 61. Ulrich Luz, Matthew: A Commentary, rev. ed., trans. James E. Crouch, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007), 2:526. Luz is quoting Jülicher, Die Gleichnisreden Jesu, 2:471. See Luz’s partial qualification (Matthew, 2:535). 62. France, Matthew, 752. 63. Lambrecht, Out of the Treasure, 84. 64. See the discussion in Luz, Matthew, 1:382–83. 65. Joel Green, “Heaven and Hell,” in DJG2, 373.



Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables 441

more accurately expressed by the Heidelberg Catechism: it is impossible for those with faith not to do works.66 Assessment Though studies devoted to Matthew are committed to following the particular ways the evangelist tells his story, it is difficult to find serious attempts to defend the view on narrative or redactional grounds that passages such as the workers in the vineyard are the key to everything the gospels say about obedience and divine recompense, or that obedience is somehow automatic for Jesus’s followers. The Matthean Jesus is portrayed as the savior of his people (1:21), and an essential aspect of that saving activity is the offer of the ζυγός χρηστός, the good yoke, instruction regarding which behavior pleases God and which is damnable (11:28–30).67 All three Synoptic Gospels are organized around the call to follow Jesus in taking up one’s cross, giving one’s life in order to receive eternal life (Mark 8:34–38 and parr.). Much of the double tradition and material unique to Matthew serves to elaborate on this Markan idea, from the Sermon on the Mount’s promise of a great reward in the heavens for those who endure persecution and follow Jesus’s teaching to the final block of teaching material, which is largely devoted to eschatological sifting.68 The repayment of deeds is an incalculably generous Geschenklohn, as Ulrich Luz puts it, but it remains a wage for work done.69 Those who refuse to work are, for Matthew, sent to the outer darkness. Scholars have generally been eager to highlight Matthew’s emphasis on judgment when it comes to Jesus’s opponents but not his followers. More specifically, many have often found two different metrics applied to “the Jews” or Jewish leaders, on the one hand, and Christians, on the other. The former are condemned for their disobedience and are set aside. The 66. Viktor Kókai Nagy, “ ‘Guter Baum – gute Früchte’ ist es prädestinatorisch?,” BN 160 (2014): 3–17. 67. Thomas R. Blanton IV, “Saved by Obedience: Matthew 1:21 in Light of Jesus’ Teaching on the Torah,” JBL 132 (2013): 393–413; Matthew W. Mitchell, “The Yoke Is Easy, but What of Its Meaning? A Methodological Reflection Masquerading as a Philological Discussion of Matthew 11:30,” JBL 135 (2016): 321–40. 68. Nathan Eubank, Wages of Cross-Bearing and Debt of Sin: The Economy of Heaven in Matthew’s Gospel, BZNW 196 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2013). 69. Ulrich Luz, Das Evangelium nach Matthäus, EKKNT (Düsseldorf: Benziger, 1985–2002), 3:508.

442

Nathan Eubank

latter are offered “grace.” This approach is obviously problematic if one is convinced that Matthew remains very much concerned with the salvation of Israel.70 Even if one brackets this important question, however, Matthew goes out of his way to show that Jesus’s followers will be judged according to their deeds along with everyone else.71 In this sense, Dodd and his successors were correct to suggest that Matthew introduces the principle of merit to guard against complacency among Jesus’s followers. Just as the Pharisees and other leading groups must produce fruit befitting repentance or be thrown into the fire (3:7–10; 21:33–44), followers of Jesus are repeatedly confronted with the same possibility. They must “do the will” of God (7:21–23) to be found worthy (22:1–14). Matthew’s final block of teaching (24–25) concludes with five consecutive passages describing a final sifting, and though some of this material may refer to the world or to outsiders, it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that Matthew envisions a sifting of the ἐκκλησία on the basis of obedience. While it is apparent that Matthew amplifies themes of judgment and recompense, the question remains whether and to what extent these themes are attributable to the evangelist himself, perhaps because of challenges faced by his community, rather than the teaching of Jesus. The following is an all-too-brief summary of why it is likely that this theme did begin with Jesus himself.72 (1) Jesus’s predecessors and followers taught it is necessary to please God with one’s actions to inherit the age to come. Jesus was preceded by John the Baptist, whose teaching—according to Matthew, Luke, and Josephus—placed a heavy emphasis on the performance of righteous deeds as a prerequisite not only to divine acceptance but even to ritual repentance (Matt 3:7–12; Luke 3:7–17; Josephus, A.J. 18.117). Correct parentage and baptism count for nothing in the imminent sifting of wheat from chaff if 70. A view recently given bracing articulation by Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016). 71. On this point, see Kloppenborg, “Representation of Violence,” 347–51; Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation; Nathan Eubank, “Damned Disciples: The Permeability of the Boundary between Insiders and Outsiders in Matthew and Paul,” in Perceiving the Other in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity, ed. Michal Bar Asher Siegal, Wolfgang Grünstäudl, and Matthew Thiessen (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2017), 33–47. 72. This argument may be considered a subcategory of the larger question concerning Jesus’s eschatology. See, e.g., among many, Dale C. Allison, Jesus of Nazareth: Millenarian Prophet (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1998), 39–44.



Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables 443

not accompanied by obedience. Those who claimed to follow Jesus also stressed the strict necessity of pleasing God with one’s actions and the dire consequences of failing to do so. This is evident in the Synoptic Gospels and beyond, including Paul (e.g., Gal 6:7–10). If Jesus’s message was that judgment is only for the Jews and the church is accepted regardless of its obedience, then he was the great exception, and few if any of his followers understood him. (2) No stream of early tradition supports the meritless Jesus: not Mark (e.g., Mark 8:34–37), nor material unique to Luke (e.g., Luke 10:25–37), nor the double tradition, nor (obviously) Matthew. Even Q1, an alleged source of Jesus’s teaching without judgment, granting its existence, looks forward to the coming judgment (6:20–23, 47–49) and ties divine mercy to the individual’s treatment of others (6:36–38).73 John’s Gospel, the distinctive theology of which might present certain difficulties to the view that humans must please God with their behavior to be granted eternal life, still affirms that those who do good are raised to life, those who do evil raised to condemnation (5:25–29). Rudolf Bultmann famously suggested that passage was an editorial addition designed to bring John into conformity with traditional eschatology.74 Few accept Bultmann’s argument today, but even if he were correct, John’s realized eschatology accommodates other warnings of destruction for those who fail to do what Jesus commands. For instance, John also demands that followers “bear fruit” by abiding in Jesus, which is defined as obeying his command to love, and love is defined as giving one’s life for others (John 15:1–17). One might suggest that this is the Johannine version of the Synoptic demand to lose one’s life in order to receive it back.75 Indeed, the Jesus traditions consistently portray him teaching judgment of deeds and condemnation of evildoers (including the condemnation of ostensible insiders). Jesus is said to welcome sinners, but the gist is always, as one floating pericope has it, “go and sin no more” 73. Tuckett, Q and the History, 141–49. 74. Rudolf Bultmann, Theology of the New Testament, trans. Kendrick Grobel (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2007), 2:39. See also John 6:39, 40, 44, 54; 12:48; 14:3, 18; 21:21–23. 75. The key difference is that for John the “fruit bearing” is made possible by abiding in Jesus. See Christopher W. Skinner, “Love One Another: The Johannine Love Command in the Farewell Discourse,” in Johannine Ethics: The Moral World of the Gospel and Epistles of John, ed. Skinner and Sherri Brown (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2017), 25–42. The Gospel of Thomas’s denial of future judgment offers a partial exception, but even there entrance requirements of a sort remain; e.g., 1, 3, 22, 27, 114.

444

Nathan Eubank

(John 8:11). If the Lord’s Prayer and related traditions are anything to go by, Jesus taught that forgiveness came with strings attached. Forgive us, as we also forgive (Matt 6:12; 7:2). (3) Regarding Jesus’s words of condemnation against Jewish leaders: most have accepted that Jesus condemned rival teachers and authorities, warning them of God’s coming judgment. Since Dodd some scholars have seen condemnation of Jewish leaders as the true setting of all of Jesus’s judgment sayings. It is more likely, however, that this material points in the opposite direction: if Jesus thought that the unfaithful of Israel would be condemned, he probably also expected his followers to face judgment in which the faithful are rewarded and the unfaithful punished. There is inherent plausibility to the way Matthew expects all the world to be sifted and weighed, not just the Jerusalem leaders, but also members of Jesus’s ἐκκλησία. The assumption that Jesus applied completely different terms of acceptance to Jews and Christians may be a reflection of later gentile-Christian bias rather than a conclusion that follows from the evidence itself. (4) The Synoptic portrait of Jesus is so enveloped by the idea that those who follow him must follow his example and teaching to attain eternal life that, if they got this wrong, what hope would we have for saying anything about Jesus at all?76 As John Meier put it recently, “one might argue that no aspect of Jesus’s teaching is more pervasive in the many different streams of gospel tradition, and no aspect is more passed over in silence today” than the warning that along with divine generosity comes the promise of reward and “the possibility of being condemned for refusing the demand contained in the gift.”77 The difference between Matthew and Jesus on the subject of merit is likely one of degree, not kind. Matthew does show special interest in judgment, adding the language of divine “repayment” (e.g., 16:27) and lurid descriptions of final separation and perdition (e.g., 13:36–43), but concern for these matters extends back into the prior traditions.78 Finally, what of those interpreters who play the role of foil in the standard narrative of parable interpretation, the allegorizing premoderns? The 76. See what Allison calls “recurrent attestation” (Constructing Jesus, 20–21). 77. Meier, Marginal Jew, 5:309. 78. Regarding the question of the historical Jesus’s use of allegory, some of the parables widely believed to be dominical contain in themselves apparent allegorical elements, e.g., the wicked tenants (see Meier, Marginal Jew, 5:82–88).



Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables 445

presence of virulent anti-Judaism in the biblical commentary from these centuries is undeniable, as it is in the following centuries. Nevertheless, the insights of patristic and medieval parable interpretation far exceed the standard caricature. These centuries of interpretation are too broad to defend or attack with reference to a single example, but for the sake of illustration it is useful to consider one thirteenth-century summary of patristic exegesis of the gospels, Thomas Aquinas’s Catena aurea.79 The following is a summary of the Catena’s explanation of the parable of the talents. The lord who went away for a long time (25:19) refers to Jesus, who will return at an unexpected hour, as the preceding passage in Matthew puts it (25:1– 13). The massive amounts of money given to the servants refers to the gifts God gives people with the expectation that they will use them and grow, thereby earning divine reward. The servants who gained a return on the Lord’s investments are told to “enter into the joy of their master,” and this refers to entering into the eternal life that Matthew describes in the next passage, the sheep and the goats (25:34, 46). The servant who refused to do anything with the money entrusted to him refers to someone who, quoting John Chrysostom, “will not assist their neighbors either with money, or words, or in any other way, but hide all that they have”(25:30). Such people will be damned, as the following passage on the sheep and goats makes clear (25:41–46). This medieval blend of patristic interpretation is roughly what the best modern commentaries on Matthew make of the parable.80 The strength of the Catena is in the fact that it is built on a close reading of Matthew itself. The allegorical details all have abundant support in the parable’s immediate context: the master who goes away and returns matches Matthew’s repeated emphasis on judgment at the return of the Lord. Settling accounts is a recurring Matthean description of the last judgment (see 16:27; 18:23–35; 20:1–15; see also 6:1–21). Casting the last servant into

79. Catena aurea in quattuor evangelia; English translation: Thomas Aquinas, Catena Aurea: Commentary on the Four Gospels, Collected Out of the Works of the Fathers: St. Matthew, ed. John Henry Newman (Oxford: Parker, 1841). 80. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:401–11. See Meier: “[The parable of the talents] fits perfectly with Matthew’s unrelenting drumbeat in chapter 25 (as well as throughout his Gospel, especially the five great discourses): the stern reckoning of the last judgment awaits not just unbelievers but also, and above all, believers who claim to be loyal servants of their Master (kyrios)—especially church leaders” (Marginal Jew, 5:292).

446

Nathan Eubank

the outer darkness is a transparent description of damnation as Matthew imagines it (8:12; 22:13). To be sure, the Catena is more than a touch rococo in places. Some of the ancient commentators cited link the five talents to the five senses; others go deep into theology of the ascension while commenting on the lord’s long journey. Working on the assumption of divine authorship, these interpreters expected to find inexhaustible depths in the sacred page, and they interpreted Scripture in light of Scripture. Nevertheless, despite an approach that lends itself to exegetical maximalism, on the whole these premoderns give a more sober and convincing interpretation than much post-Jülicher interpretation. Compared to the Catena, Dodd’s proposal (that the parable condemns Jewish attempts to earn merit), or Wright’s (that it is about Jesus’s entry into Jerusalem), or Herzog’s (that the third servant is the protagonist, one who spoke truth to power) look like attempts to force the parable into the service of idiosyncratic agendas. It is also worth noting that critics of premodern exegesis often fail to distinguish between homiletic flights of fancy and more sober explanations of the text ad litteram. Premodern readers were capable of distinguishing between literal and figural interpretation, between ἱστορία and θεωρία, letter and spirit.81 The much-maligned Augustine was fond of allegorizing every detail in the parable of the good Samaritan, but on other occasions he appeals to it to answer the question of whether a Christian is obliged to love all people. In his De doctrina christiana he explains that the parable, along with Jesus’s concluding admonition to “Go and do likewise,” shows that one should count as “neighbor” any person who is in need (1.30.31). One can certainly quibble with aspects of Augustine’s interpretation, but when one compares it with modern interpretation of that parable, it becomes clear that the history of parable interpretation is more complicated than often admitted. Conclusion Parable scholarship since Jülicher has been characterized by a diversity of methods and a narrowness of perspective. Its perspective has been predominantly antimerit, which means very often anti-Jewish, but also committed to bringing Jesus and the gospels into conformity with a version of Christianity 81. E.g., see ἱστορία and θεωρία in Gregory of Nyssa’s De vita Moysis.



Merit and Anti-Judaism in Matthew’s Parables 447

that excludes the salvific instrumentality of human action. The predictable tendency to downplay eschatological sifting and the judgment of deeds is so pervasive that even less partisan work on the parables spends as much time assuring readers that they need not worry about works-righteousness as in positive exposition of problematic passages.82 Scholarship focused on Matthew has often used the parables, the portion of the gospel most susceptible to creative reappropriation, divorced from their context in Matthew’s wider story, as a hermeneutical control that limits or eliminates Matthew’s own unmistakable emphasis on a final judgment of deeds. Moreover, many have used the parables to exaggerate the difference between Jesus’s followers and the rest of Israel by glossing over Matthew’s insistence that members of Jesus’s ἐκκλησία will be judged for their obedience along with the rest of the world. Without making facile accusations of bias, it is worth at least entertaining the possibility that modern biblical scholarship did not discover a Jesus who condemned Jewish hope of earning merit or a Matthew who offered “pure grace” to “Christians”; it created them to suit prevailing theological preferences. This article has subjected Dodd and Jeremias to particularly sharp criticism, alleging that they set the agenda for the past century’s anti-Jewish parable interpretation. In closing, it is only fair to point out that both scholars often provided a more clear-eyed and compelling description of Matthew’s tendencies than have many scholars since. This is particularly true of Dodd. The Matthew that emerges from the pages of The Parables of the Kingdom is a Jewish follower of Jesus who was anxious to stress the reality of impending eschatological judgment. He introduced the principle of merit into the parables because he wanted to warn “the church” that all the world will be judged according to deeds, including Jesus’s own followers. To attain eternal life they must perform the will of God by following Jesus’s interpretation of the law. This law observance stresses the “weightier matters” such as mercy to those in need, but includes seemingly inconsequential minutiae, such as the tithing of garden herbs (23:23). If one overlooks the pejorative tone of Dodd’s description and his serene confidence that the teaching of Jesus himself was free of these Jewish elements, one is left with a not-implausible portrait of the First Gospel. Matthew adopts Mark’s emphasis on following Jesus on the path of death and resurrection and greatly expands the importance of obedience in 82. E.g., Snodgrass, Stories with Intent, 70–75, 352–59, 558–61.

448

Nathan Eubank

preparation for the imminent “repayment” of deeds (16:27), when the evil are separated from the just (13:49), the weeds from the wheat (13:36–43), the wheat from the chaff (3:12), those who keep the commandments (15:3; 19:17) from those who kill the prophets (23:29–36).

Concluding Reflections: What’s Next in the Study of Matthew? Amy-Jill Levine

Locating Matthew within Judaism challenges the familiar anti-Jewish tropes through which Matthew remains read and preached in some scholarly and much popular interpretation. From pulpit to pew, from press to lectern to desk, Matthew is still understood, by liberal and conservative Christians alike, as replacing Jewish works-righteousness with Jesus’s gift of covenantal belonging, as promoting universalism amid a xenophobic Jewish tribalism, and as doing away with purity laws, Sabbath observance, and anything concerning ritual in favor of a generalized and spiritualized love commandment supplemented by an emphasis on social justice divorced from its origins in Jewish texts. The essays in this volume demonstrate Matthew’s embeddedness within a halakically faithful, purity-observant, justice-oriented Jewish tradition, which is a joy to maintain rather than a burden to bear. Yet, just as the recent scholarship that locates Paul within Judaism— such as the (no longer so) New Perspective on Paul—has faced pushback by Christians invested in a works-righteous, ethnocentric and ossified, doomed and damned Judaism over against which Jesus brings a new covenant, new hermeneutic, and new theology,1 so too the Matthewwithin-Judaism perspective will face backlash. 1. For example, Robert J. Cara, Cracking the Foundation of the New Perspective on Paul: Covenental Nomism versus Reformed Covenental Theology, REDS (Fearn, Rossshire, UK: Christian Focus, 2017), begins with endorsements by Thomas R. Schreiner of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary (“works righteousness was taught by some Second Temple Jews”); Michael J. Kruger of Reformed Theological Seminary in Charlotte, NC (on how first-century Judaism struggled with works righteousness), and Guy Prentiss Waters of Reformed Theological Seminary of Jackson, Mississippi (claiming

-449-

450

Amy-Jill Levine

Such backlash is not simply a theological matter restricted to what Tom Lehrer calls “ivy-covered professors in ivy-covered halls.”2 On April 27, 2019, Lori Gilbert-Kaye was murdered and others, including her rabbi, injured when a member of the Escondido Orthodox Presbyterian Church, inspired by his particular reading of Christian theology, decided to kill Jews at the Poway, California, Chabad synagogue. The Reverend Mika Edmondson, a pastor ordained in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, the parent body of the Escondido congregation, read the shooter’s manifesto and concluded, “We can’t pretend as though we didn’t have some responsibility for him.” The Reverend Duke Kwon of the Presbyterian Church in America said of the manifesto, “You actually hear a frighteningly clear articulation of Christian theology in certain sentences and paragraphs. He has, in some ways, been well taught in the church.”3 The essays in this collection are not only scholarly contributions; they are theologically necessary. Some readers will conclude that they overstate their case in the attempt to put biblical studies in service to producing more philosemitic material after Auschwitz and given the rise of neo-Nazi movements. These critics miss the fact that one can be both politically invested and academically rigorous. To anticipate the critiques, and to advance discussion, I offer the following five areas where Matthean scholarship, building on these fine essays, might go. The People, the Jews, the Mission Dating Matthew sometime toward the end of the first century creates the epistemological problem of how both a Paul within Judaism and a that “the New Testament writers were accurate in their assessment of Second Temple Judaism” as a works-righteousness system). Remarkably, the Mogen David appears throughout the introductory matter. For a popularization of this approach, see Barton Swaim, “A New Take on the Apostle Paul,” Wall Street Journal, May 16, 2019. For recent scholarship that locates Paul within Judaism, see, inter alia, Mark D. Nanos and Magnus Zetterholm, eds., Paul within Judaism: Restoring the First-Century Context to the Apostle (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015); Mark D. Nanos, Reading Paul within Judaism: Collected Essays of Mark D. Nanos, vol. 1 (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2017); Paula Fredriksen, Paul: The Pagans’ Apostle (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2017). 2. Tom Lehrer, “Bright College Days,” More of Tom Lehrer (Lehrer Records, 1959). 3. Julie Zauzmer, “The Alleged Synagogue Shooter Was a Churchgoer Who Talked Christian Theology, Raising Tough Questions for Evangelical Pastors,” Washington Post, May 1, 2019.



Concluding Reflections 451

Matthew within Judaism—as well as a John within Judaism (no matter how much he struggles against the Ἰουδαῖοι), a Luke within Judaism (I doubt it, but not all do),4 and a John of Patmos within Judaism—gave rise so quickly to anti-Jewish interpretations. One reason would be the turn away from nonreceptive Jews to gentiles eager for the good news not only of Matt 25 but also of heavenly reward as well as apocalyptic doom to their enemies. Matthew’s text strikes me as less an address to a conventicle and more as a gospel intended for all Jesus followers, and with a focus on the gentile mission.5 Its wide distribution in terms of copies and citations, and its eventual canonical placement, suggest that it was quickly embraced by the increasingly predominant gentile church. Given the focus on the gentiles from genealogy to Great Commission, this very Jewish text took hold within the gentile world. Matthias Konradt suggests the text be regarded “as a thoroughly Jewish document that reflects a conflict of Christ believers within Judaism.” Comparison with Paul may be helpful in response. Paul is writing thoroughly Jewish letters, because Paul is thoroughly Jewish (however we define the term). But his letters are to gentiles. Similarly, Matthew writes with knowledge of the gentile mission and perhaps in opposition to some of its Pauline manifestations. The gospel reflects the perspective of a relatively robust group, comprising both Jews and gentiles, that sees itself as debating with nonmessianic Jews on one front while running a gentiletargeted mission on the other. If Matthew is gentile-focused, then defining the text (and its intended audience) as a sectarian document requires more attention. Comparison of long-established Protestant communions, such as Presbyterians, Congregationalists, and Methodists, to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) may prove fruitful. Like the Mormons in relation to

4. See the irenic debate on Luke’s take on Jews, Jewish practice, Jewish belief, and Jewish history in Amy-Jill Levine and Ben Witherington III, The Gospel of Luke, NCBC (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017); Mark S. Kinzer, Jerusalem Crucified, Jerusalem Risen: The Resurrected Messiah, the Jewish People, and the Land of Promise (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2018). On John, see Adele Reinhartz, Cast Out of the Covenant: Jews and Anti-Judaism in the Gospel of John (Lanham, MD: Lexington, 2018). 5. See the essays in Richard Bauckham, ed., The Gospels for All Christians: Rethinking the Gospel Audiences (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998).

452

Amy-Jill Levine

other Protestant groups, Matthew has, in relation to other Jewish groups, changed the image of the deity to something that looks like bitheism, added a book to sacred Scripture—since Matthew’s text would, for its promoters, function as having theological authority—reinterpreted all preceding texts in light of a new revelation, and embarked on an evangelistic enterprise. Whether Mormons are a sectarian branch of Christianity or a new religion depends on the person issuing the label. Mormons conclude they are Christians, as in fact do most Jews (once “Jesus Christ” and “church” show up in the title, “Christian” is the likely conclusion). Many Protestants, Catholics, and Orthodox beg to differ. Determining when a sect ceases to be part of the parent body and becomes its own distinct movement is, especially for antiquity, arbitrary. The gospel appears, at least to me, to be moving outward, and so moving away from Jews, if not from what fits under the rubric of Judaism/Judentum. Sects require specialized vocabulary to differentiate themselves from the parent body. Hence Matthew speaks of their synagogues. “Their synagogues” may not imply the opposite, “our synagogues.” Instead, for Matthew, the opposite is the ἐκκλησία where the followers of Jesus gather.6 Jordan Ryan, following Terence Donaldson, sees the Sermon on the Mount as depicting “an eschatological synagogue, an assembly not of a local community but of the regathered people of God”: I like the idea, but I suspect it is too optimistic. First, the setting is not a synagogue, and so it can be read as a rejection of any synagogue system. Ryan correctly notes that Jesus, according to Matthew, did teach in synagogues, yet on no occasion does Matthew recount the content of such teaching. An explanation is needed for an absence (always a tricky move). The gospel thus does not set its base of operations as within the synagogue. For Matthew, the synagogue is a place of hostility, not hospitality. It is where hypocrites gather (6:2, 5; 23:6) and where eventually disciples will be flogged (10:17; 23:34; perhaps a memory of past events rather than predictions of future ones), where Pharisees determine to conspire against Jesus (12:14), and where the hometown rejects him (13:54). Synagogue settings are not quite as bad in Matthew as they are for Luke, given that for Luke and Acts the synagogue motto appears to be “Let’s kill him and all his friends,” but Matthew is no fan of this institution. While the term church 6. Amy-Jill Levine, “Matthew’s Portrayal of the Synagogue and Its Leaders,” in The Gospel of Matthew at the Crossroads of Early Christianity, ed. Donald Senior, BETL 243 (Leuven: Peeters, 2011), 177–93.



Concluding Reflections 453

in the sense of a Nicaean system is anachronistic, it is still the case that Matthew promotes that gathering not as a synagogue but as an ἐκκλησία (contrast Jas 2:2). Second, the Sermon on the Mount is given to the disciples, not the crowd, and the most the crowd can conclude is to find his teachings astonishing (ἐκπλήσσω), “for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes” (7:29).7 The conclusion need not be a compliment. The hometown synagogue is similarly “astounded” (ἐκπλήσσω) at Jesus’s teaching (13:54), but their wondering about the source of his teaching does not necessarily indicate a positive impression. The disciples are astounded (ἐκπλήσσω) at the statement concerning the rich man and the camel (19:25), but they are panicking, not celebrating. Thus, if the Sermon on the Mount is a synagogue sermon, it is one given to a select body of disciples, and it is one not received well by the majority of the Jews who heard it. Third, Jesus does not unpack torah in the Sermon on the Mount. He alludes to it, but he also alludes to it elsewhere, including in the temple teaching, but I do not take those teachings as synagogue sermons. Despite Matthew’s interest in scribes, it is Luke who gives Jesus the upgrade to scribal literacy.8 We can see a similar shift away from the parent body in the issue of language of “people” (λαός), and Jews (Ἰουδαῖοι), a shift that follows the focus from the people of Israel to the gentiles. We can see it as well in Matthew’s promotion of a Christology that begins with Jesus’s conception, including the centrality of literally following him, from the Sermon on the Mount’s “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (5:48) coupled with the christological means to do this: “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me” (19:21). Matthew’s Gospel continues the mission to the Jews, since the command to evangelize “the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (10:5b; 15:24) is never abrogated. The Great Commission extends the mission to the gentiles, and thus Matthew makes good on the hints throughout the gospel that the gentiles will be receptive to the message. Yet Matthew shows little hope that the mission to the Jews will receive much traction. This may be why Matthew omits any report of a mission, such as

7. Unless otherwise stated, all biblical translations in this chapter follow the NRSV. 8. Chris Keith, Jesus against the Scribal Elite (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2014).

454

Amy-Jill Levine

we find in Mark 6:12–13. While the gospel suggests that Jesus’s disciples will face synagogue discipline (23:34 and possibly 10:23), the notice does not necessarily indicate that they are preaching in synagogues, any more than Paul’s own experience with such discipline (2 Cor 11:24) indicates a synagogue base. It does, however, show that both these disciples and the synagogue members recognized themselves as Jews. The ceding of the future to the gentile mission is reinforced by the use of the term λαός, generally taken to be the “people Israel.” The term starts positively enough, with the angel’s notice (1:21) that Jesus “will save his people [λαός] from their sins.” The second use—“all the chief priests and scribes of the people” (2:4)—distinguishes the people from the Jerusalem-based authorities even as it connects them, since the genitive works both ways. Which way the people will break, toward King Herod and his priestly and scribal cohort in the capital or to the new “king of the Jews” in the city of David, has yet to be determined. The fulfillment citation in 2:6, concerning the ruler who is to “shepherd my people Israel,” leaves open the question of the constitution of Israel. While Matthew never states that the followers of Jesus comprise a “new Israel” or a “true Israel,”9 the case can be made that this is precisely what Matthew sees, given the twelve disciples as the reconstitution of Israel, Jesus’s mission as drawing people from the borders of those original twelve tribes (as Ryan points out), and Jesus as the new Moses who correctly teaches “Israel” how to act. While the “people who sat in darkness” (4:16) may have seen a great light, and while Jesus healed the sick among them (4:23), the sight and the healings are insufficient. “This people’s heart has grown dull.… Their ears are hard of hearing, and they have shut their eyes” (13:15). Muteness may be cured, but what the people say does not suggest the appropriate response: “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (15:8). Were there healing, the people appear to have relapsed. In 21:23 and 26:3, the reference to the “chief priests and the elders of the people” (the phrase is becoming a refrain) again raises the question of the genitive, of the direction in which the people will break. Hope that the people will follow Jesus emerges, slightly, in the priests’ concern that the arrest occur after the festival, lest “there may be a riot among the people”

9. The classic study remains Wolfgang Trilling’s Das Wahre Israel: Studien zur Theologie des Matthäusevangeliums, 3rd rev. ed., SANT 10 (Munich: Kösel-Verlag, 1964).



Concluding Reflections 455

(26:5). I am less confident than some that this verse suggests a complete distinction between people and leaders in terms of response to Jesus. If the people were to revolt, they clearly missed the message of the Sermon on the Mount, with its concern for avoiding violence. The chief priests and elders and the people as a whole thus have rejected Jesus’s concerns. The refrain of the “chief priest and elders of the people” occurs a fourth time in 26:47, the arrest at Gethsemane, and a fifth in 27:1, the conferral “against Jesus in order to bring about his death.” The genitive “of the people” finally proves connective rather than dissociative in 27:25, when “all the people” accept the responsibility for the death of Jesus. Narratively, this reference is to “all the people” of Jerusalem. However, the more generic use of λαός earlier in the gospel prevents a secure limitation. The people include those in the tribal areas of Naphtali and Zebulun, and in particular the Galileans who received Jesus’s teaching and healing. The last use of λαός terminology appears in relation to resurrection claims. The “chief priests and the Pharisees” demand that Pilate set a watch at the tomb, for “otherwise his disciples may go and steal him away and tell the people, ‘He has been raised from the dead,’ and the last deception would be worse than the first” (27:64). The people, Israel, still remain possible followers, and the mission to them remains open, but given the Great Commission’s shift of the mission by Peter and the other disciples to the gentiles, the likelihood of more Jewish affiliation is minimal. Matters are no more optimistic with the crowds than with the people. Konradt addresses the role of the crowds (ὄχλοι), which do appear more frequently than the people (λαός) and in more positive depictions, as objects of Jesus’s compassion and as likely followers. Yet, given all following uses of the “crowds,” there is good reason to take their response as moving toward their leaders. Matthew tells us that the crowds (ὄχλοι) are astounded (ἐκπλήσσω) by Jesus’s temple teachings (22:33) but, as we have seen, this is not necessarily a positive reaction. The next notice of the ὄχλοι is 23:1, where Jesus speaks “to the crowds and to his disciples”: the groups are distinguished. The chief priests and elders persuade the crowd (ὄχλος) to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus put to death (27:20), Pilate washes his hands before the crowd (ὄχλος) in 27:24, and the “people,” who are now equivalent to the hostile crowd, respond with the blood cry in 27:25. The next time the crowds appear is 26:47 (see 26:55), when they are part of the group that arrests Jesus at Gethsemane. Konradt claims that “the crowds can be clearly distinguished from the authorities,” but that distinction dis-

456

Amy-Jill Levine

appears. By the end of the gospel, the chief priests and Pharisees (an odd pair), the elders, the people, and the crowds become one undifferentiated mass of Ἰουδαῖοι. While for Matthew, Jesus is “king of the Jews,” from his genealogy to his resurrection, the only people who note this role are gentiles: the magi (2:2), Pilate (27:11), the Roman soldiers who mock him (27:29), and the Roman soldiers who crucify him (27:37). These are the only verses where the term Ἰουδαῖοι appears, with one telling exception in chapter 28. For Matthew, “the Jews” do not, and will not, accept the gospel claims. Matthew 28:13 reports that the priests and the elders bribed the soldiers at the tomb to report that “his disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.” Matthew is being both coy and clever. First, the soldiers, if asleep, would have no clue as to what happened to the body (grave robbers looking for magical implements, such as the nails, would be another option). Second, no soldier with any concern for life expectancy would admit to falling asleep while on duty. Third, the command puts an ironic spin on the disciples, who do fall asleep, repeatedly, in Gethsemane: the ones who should have stood guard with Jesus at his arrest fail him; the ones who did stand guard at the tomb become, together with the women who report Jesus’s resurrection to the disciples, the first evangelists, since they witnessed and “told the chief priests everything that had happened” (28:11). The soldiers “took the money and did as they were directed. And this story is still told among the Jews to this day” (28:15). With this strategic use of Ἰουδαῖοι, Matthew signals, rhetorically, a separation from any who identify as Ἰουδαῖοι. The Ἰουδαῖοι report that the body was stolen; the people who follow Matthew’s Gospel are therefore not among the Ἰουδαῖοι; they have moved their self-definition into another group, the ἐκκλησία, which, while not indicating a church in the sense of a welldeveloped “Christian” institution, is nevertheless something separate from “their synagogues.” At this point, we could easily default to the claim that the term means “Judeans” rather than “Jews” (both terms are fraught), as Philip Esler does, but ultimately, I doubt it matters for understanding Matthew.10 If there are

10. The literature is vast. See, e.g., “Jew and Judean: A Forum on Politics and Historiography in the Translation of Ancient Texts,” A Marginalia Forum, August 26, 2014, https://tinyurl.com/SBL4527d; Cynthia M. Baker, Jew, KWJS (New Brunswick,



Concluding Reflections 457

no “Jews” in Matthew, then speaking of Matthew within Judaism becomes less helpful. One focus of the gospel is on the turn to the gentiles, with the commandment to “make disciples of all the gentiles” (28:19). With the change in Jesus’s status in his now having “all authority” (28:18), he changes the status of the mission as well. The climactic commission to the gentiles sets the path. Even the apparently damnatory claim that the recalcitrant member of the ἐκκλησία be “like a gentile and a tax collector” (18:17) confirms the gentile focus of the mission, for it is the gentile and the tax collector whom the disciples should evangelize. Once they are part of the ἐκκλησία, Matthew does not let them go (baptism is just as indelible as circumcision, perhaps even more so, given epispasm). Only those who refused to respond to Jesus and before him to John are condemned. In contrast to Paul’s commission (Rom 11:13), Matthew entrusts the gentile mission to Peter and the remaining disciples; Paul, who sees Peter as the evangelist to the circumcised (Gal 2:8), would be surprised. Peter is no longer, for Matthew, the evangelist to the Jews. Indeed, he never was, for Matthew, unlike Mark 6:12–13, 30, depicts no mission of the Twelve. Following Matthew’s mission discourse in chapter 10, the disciples do not leave Jesus’s company. Nor does Matthew include any report by the disciples of how they fared on their travels apart from Jesus. Jesus speaks of the disciples not having “gone through all the towns of Israel before the Son of Man comes” (10:23); this would especially be the case if they were traveling outside those areas, as the Great Commission, with its gentile emphasis, suggests. Despite the Jewishness of the gospel, at the end, Jews and Judaism are for Matthew left behind. The Roman state did not consider gentile followers of Jesus to be “Jews” (unless, I suspect, they converted, for which at least the men would have physical credentials), and neither did the Jewish communities, and neither did Paul. That the early church since Papias received Matthew as being “Jewish” is not in doubt; why Matthew retained the designation “Jewish” (or “Hebraic”) is another question. Explications include the association with Matthew the Jewish tax collector; the appreciation of Israel’s Scriptures; the concern for torah

NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2017); Daniel Boyarin, Judaism: The Genealogy of a Modern Notion, KWJS (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2018).

458

Amy-Jill Levine

observance. But such arguments need not be determinative, especially in light of the view that the designation of “Jewish” for Matthew can be seen as having an apologetic function: it signals that even the Jews see that Jesus offers the only way to be faithful to torah and the God of Israel. Only through the Christ—his interpretations of torah; his ransom of his followers—can one leading a Jewish life be “perfect.”11 Atonement and the Temple In his opening summary of Jewish views of “God’s presence” in the temple, Akiva Cohen cites Anders Runesson’s claim: “In this Gospel, then, contrary to later Christian beliefs, Jesus is the solution to the destruction of the temple, not its cause; indeed, his ritualized death is presented precisely as a way of saving the Jewish people as a people.”12 Runesson confirms, “The temple has been abandoned by God and will later be destroyed, leaving the people without any means of atonement, without a connecting point between heaven and earth.” Yes, and … more information on how the people at the time would have regarded this loss of an atoning system would support the claim. If the destruction of the temple did not create a problem regarding atonement, then Matthew is manufacturing an issue to which Jesus is the solution. If Jesus himself offered his body and blood as an alternative form of sacrifice, then the system Matthew inherits and promotes exists apart from the events of 70. Prior to Bar Kokhba’s revolt, Jews likely anticipated that the temple would be rebuilt. As Martin Goodman summarizes, “The destruction of the Temple, while a catastrophe, did not create universal Jewish despair. The Babylonians had destroyed Solomon’s temple in 586 BCE and that was rebuilt, so there was every reason to expect a new Temple to be erected, especially since it was standard Roman policy to allow temples to be rebuilt.”13 Cohen is correct that Avot R. Nat. 4.17–18 does express 11. Perfection is not a major concern of the Tanak. Deuteronomy 18:13 can be read as “Thou shalt be perfect with the Lord thy God” (Koren Jerusalem Bible), but the Hebrew ‫ תם‬has more the connotation of “blameless.” The LXX reads τέλειος. 12. Anders Runesson, Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016), 332, emphasis original. 13. Martin Goodman, Rome and Jerusalem: The Clash of Ancient Civilizations (London: Lane, 2007), 427–28; Goodman, “Jewish History, 331 BCE–135 CE,” in The



Concluding Reflections 459

Rabbi Joshua’s concern that “the place where the iniquities of Israel were atoned for, is laid waste.” However, the text is late, and it is heir not simply to the destruction of the temple but also to Christian claims that the destruction was both caused by the Jews’ having killed their Lord and that without blood offering there can be no forgiveness of sins. Citation of rabbinic sources on the destruction need not be indicative of mourning the loss of the temple or a trauma created by 70; they could be responses to Christian claims.14 To regard Jesus’s death as the mechanism for achieving atonement minus the temple requires both the a priori assumption that Jews thought that temple sacrifice was necessary for atonement and attention to how the “words of institution” would have made sense in a situation where the temple was still standing and still of value to Jesus’s initial followers. There is a striking lack of concern on the Jewish, non-Jesus side for atonement of sins given the lack of temple sacrifice. Neither Josephus nor the Mishnah, nor indeed much of the Talmud, shows concerns for the maintaining the relationship between the covenant community and its deity apart from the temple. As Jonathan Klawans states, “Josephus betrays no evidence of a crisis regarding atonement in his reaction to the events he witnessed.”15 Even 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch, apocalypses written in the wake of 70, do not speak to the question of atonement without the temple. The Mishnah says little about the events of 70; rather, it imagines the temple is still standing, albeit under rabbinic control. The descriptions of temple activity need not indicate trauma at the loss or lack of access to atonement in the present. The rabbis had numerous, ready-to-hand answers for claims that atonement was no longer possible: the answers in part derive from the loss Jewish Annotated New Testament, 2nd ed., ed. Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Z. Brettler (New York: Oxford University Press, 2017), 588. Goodman suggests that Rome made an exception in the case of the Jerusalem temple lest it become a symbol of resistance or a site of revolutionary concerns. That Bar Kokhba put images of the temple on his coins supports Goodman’s proposal. See also Goodman’s “Religious Reactions to 70: The Limitations of the Evidence,” in Was 70 C. E. a Watershed in Jewish History? On Jews and Judaism before and after the Destruction of the Second Temple, ed. Daniel Schwartz and Zeev Weiss (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 509–16. 14. See Adam Gregerman, Building on the Ruins of the Temple (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016). 15. Jonathan Klawans, “Josephus, the Rabbis, and Responses to Catastrophes Ancient and Modern,” JQR 100 (2010): 305.

460

Amy-Jill Levine

of the First Temple to the Babylonians as well as their memory of the desecration of the temple during the reign of Antiochus IV Epiphanes. History had demonstrated to them that the covenant continued despite the loss of the sacrificial system. For the rabbis, without the sacrificial system, “various forms of piety (prayer, study, acts of loving kindness) can suffice.”16 Matthew’s reading of Jesus as the response to the destruction of the temple in order for the people to be forgiven either requires an initial concern to which Matthew provides the solution or indicates that Matthew invented a concern in order to explain the cross. From Mark, Matthew picks up the “ransom” statement (28:20 // Mark 10:45; see 1 Tim 2:6) as well as the eucharistic claim “this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (26:28).17 On this issue, Cecilia Wassén’s commentary on purity in Matthew is instructive. I agree with her that “the alleged parallels” of Matthew’s eucharistic language “to Lev 16 LXX are not convincing” and that “there is no reason to associate Jesus’s death, as expressed in Matt 26:28, with purification.” If the death is not about purification, then the issue Matthew addresses is not the defilement of the temple. Similarly, the ransom statement does not require the destruction of the temple to make sense, and it does not require the notion that the temple system no longer functioned. Kingship, Divine and Earthly Wayne Baxter notes how “Matthew’s birth and infancy traditions … explicitly focus in a sustained way on Jesus’s national kingship” and how Herod’s rule implicates Rome, the empire that appointed him. Here an opening on the political situation of the evangelist would be instructive. New Testament scholars tend to be adept at naming the governors of Judea up through Felix and Festus. When Acts stops, we do, too. Depending on where we locate Matthew, it would be good to know who, plausibly, might be ruling that area, be it Antioch or Upper Galilee or Ephesus. Who was in charge? What was Rome doing? Did anything happen between 70 and the diaspora revolts of the early second century that might explain Matthew’s hostility to Rome?

16. Klawans, “Josephus, the Rabbis,” 304. 17. Nathan Eubank, Wages of Cross-Bearing and Debt of Sin: The Economy of Heaven in Matthew’s Gospel, BZNW 196 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2013).



Concluding Reflections 461

Next, granting the variegated nature of Jewish practice and belief, and granting as well that everyone in antiquity was polytheistic given the welldeveloped view of suprahuman beings, the incarnational language and the granting of “all authority” (28:16) remain a problem within determination of the boundaries of Jewishness. Matthew appears to be moving in the direction of bitheism complementary to the Metatron position. With Jesus as reigning king (so 25:31), granted “all authority” (28:16), Matthew paints a picture in which God has retired: a recipient of prayers, yes, but any meaningful response, or heavenly action at all, is carried out by the Son of Man. Whether this approach is normative, sectarian, a mutation, an advancement, or something other Jews would recognize remains a matter of debate. In any case, the question of Matthew within Judaism must address the issue of Christology. Scripture and Interpretation While it had been axiomatic that rabbinic sources yanked citations out of context, recent research suggests a greater attention to metalepsis, to presuming that readers within a scribal context would look to verses before and after the cited texts to fill in details if not to provide actual meaning to the citation.18 The fulfillment citations in the infancy narratives provide a few good test cases. The first is the citation of LXX Isa 7:14, “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,” which means, “God is with us.” The context includes numerous motifs that reappear in Matthew: the concern for asking for a sign (Isa 7:11), a negative depiction of a ruling king (7:12), the concern about putting God to the test (7:12), the evocation of the “house of David” (7:13), destruction of the land (7:17). The citation in 2:15 of Hos 11:1, “Out of Egypt I have called my son,” anticipates the call of Jesus and the rejection by the people (Hos 1:12), again the destruction of cities (11:6a), with a condemnation of priests (11:6b), even the cutting off of Israel’s king (10:15). For a third example, Matt 2:18 quotes Jer 31:15, “A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.” Jeremiah 31:17

18. See Nicholas Schaser, “Matthew and the Rabbis: Symbol and Scripture in Gospel and Midrash” (PhD diss., Vanderbilt University, 2017).

462

Amy-Jill Levine

counters the mourning: “There is hope for your future, says the Lord; your children shall come back to their own country.” Given Matthew’s proclamation of resurrection, including the opening of the tombs, the oracle cited achieves its fulfillment in metalepsis: the children will return. Since the exiles for Jeremiah are alive in Babylon, this approach to Matt 2:18 adds to those “brief and tantalizing hints” Matthew provides of the belief “that the dead have an immediate afterlife before the general resurrection of the dead.”19 Matthew, like Genesis Rabbah, anticipates knowledge of the context of the verses cited. This approach is distinct from that of the fathers, who take out of context and allegorize; or from Hebrews, which piles citations together so that they interpret each other rather than reach back to that old covenant fading away; or even from Paul, who cannot expect many within his gentile congregations to have the textual knowledge he possesses. Nor is this approach quite the same thing as what the Qumran texts offer. Loren T. Stuckenbruck reads the Habakkuk Pesher as indicating a distinction between the Teacher of Righteousness and the prophet Habbakuk; the Teacher interprets, while the prophet merely records. For Matthew, the context of the fulfillment citations suggests broader prophetic knowledge. The appeal to context for the full story is a rabbinic move, and also one Matthew makes. The Gentiles In speaking of the Matthew’s Jewish text, Runesson leads by saying that the “first and perhaps the most obvious feature one may note when reading Matthew’s Gospel is the relative absence of non-Jews in the narrative.” That is not how Matthew strikes me. Abraham starts as a non-Jew; Tamar’s ethnicity is not known, but Rahab is a Canaanite from Jericho and Ruth a Moabite; Bathsheba is not named, but Uriah is a Hittite. The genealogy alone is redolent with gentiles. Then come the magi, gentiles all. The narrative is centered on the Jew Jesus, in the land of Israel, speaking to Jews (mostly) about Jewish things. But throughout the gentile presence is palpable. Indeed, all four gospels are about the Jew Jesus doing Jewish things with Jews; that does not make them per se Jewish texts.

19. See David Sim’s essay in this volume.



Concluding Reflections 463

We can see Matthew as dividing Jews from gentiles along ethnic lines. But we can also locate other divisions within the gospel. For example, Matthew promotes Galilee over Jerusalem, and so divides by region rather than by ethnicity. Matthew divides characters according to movement (Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the magi, the disciples who follow Jesus) versus stasis (the Jerusalem contingent, the people of Nazareth and the other Galilean cities), and so sets up a social versus ethnic distinction of insiders versus outsiders.20 For Matthew, as for John, “salvation is from the Jews,” since they have the covenants, the torah, the history, and the genealogy. But just as John loves all things Jewish, except for actual Jews who do not follow Jesus, Matthew can be followed along the same trajectory. David Turner suggests that numerous verses in the gospel “lead to the conclusion that Jesus’s eschatological rule will begin with a separating judgment that will eventuate negatively in the condemnation of those who will not submit to his rule and positively in the bliss of those who will.” I think this is right. At this stage, ethnicity is not relevant; belief and obedience are. So What? I suppose I should not be surprised that thirty-six years after I wrote my dissertation, we are still arguing about whether πάντα τὰ ἔθνη in 28:19 means “all the gentiles” (my claim) or “all the nations,” using much the same arguments. We still find the need to show how Matthew is not a fan of the high priests and Pharisees; we still need to show that Matthew promotes torah observance. Mostly what changes is the length of the footnotes. I am reminded of a comment about testimonial dinners: “Everything that needs to be said has been said, but not everyone has said it.” It may be that major results will occur in ecclesiology and homiletics rather than in exegesis. Regardless of whether one agrees with the locating of Matthew within Judaism, the correcting of false and negative stereotypes of that Judaism is already a major contribution of the volume (the corrections, made before, bear repeating). If the contributors to this volume are correct, and Matthew should be seen as “within Judaism,” what does this say about Jewish-Christian relations today? The answers

20. Amy-Jill Levine, The Social and Ethnic Dimensions of Matthean Salvation History: “Go Nowhere among the Gentiles,” SBEC 14 (Lewiston, NY: Mellen, 1988).

464

Amy-Jill Levine

matter for the role of Messianic Jews within the broader communities that identify today as “Jews” and “Christians,” as well as for the tenor of Christian preaching. For example, James Crossley speaks to Matthew’s interest in “the ongoing validity of the torah, at least for Jesus and probably for Jewish followers in the movement too.” So does Luke; so does Paul. This ongoing validity is in place for various branches of the Christian church (broadly defined), from Seventh-Day Adventists to Jehovah’s Witnesses to Sabbath-observant Methodists to all non-Marcionite communions. However, observance of torah does not a Jew make (although it helps). The Galatian gentiles were interested in such observance, but they were not Jews. At the very least, claims of torah’s ongoing validity should help to combat the Marcionism that is alive and well among many who claim to follow Jesus. For Messianic Jews who seek recognition within Christian communions, Matthew’s promotion of halakic obedience, including attending to the instructions of the scribes and Pharisees who sit on Moses’s seat (23:2), justifies their concern to be recognized as a distinct community, with distinct practices, within the broader church.21 Whether the ecclesial authorities would accept this reading of Matthew in contrast to, for example, Ephesians’ move toward a singular group remains a matter for discussion. Likely one of the charges against the Matthew-within-Judaism approach will be that it downplays Christology. It need not, as Messianic Jews show. One can have high Christology and be within Judaism, certainly in the first century, as Phil 2:6–11 indicates, perhaps for today. Locating Matthew within Judaism also provides academic guidance for how to understand what constitutes “Jewish studies” or more narrowly, “studies of Second Temple Judaism.” My Introduction to the New Testament course at Vanderbilt cross-lists in Jewish studies; when others teach the introduction, the course does not cross-list. Some of the gatekeepers of “Jewish studies” reject the inclusion of New Testament studies as part of their discipline, despite their willingness to accept within the family studies of Philo and Josephus, the Dead Sea Scrolls, and most of the Pseudepigrapha. On the more depressing side, I can also imagine that the Matthewwithin-Judaism perspective, so dedicated to countering anti-Jewish and

21. See, e.g., Mark Kinzer, Searching Her Own Mystery: Nostra Aetate, the Jewish People, and the Identity of the Church (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2015).



Concluding Reflections 465

anti-Semitic preaching, will rebound. For John Kampen, it is in “the vitriolic rhetoric of a sectarian group making its case within Jewish society that we find the origins of the particular developments of anti-Judaism and anti-Semitism that emerge in the life and literature of its successors.” Once we conclude that Matthew is “within Judaism,” we could also conclude that the polemical aspects of the text are in-house discussion. The result of this conclusion is that the Jews are themselves to blame for the line “His blood be on us and on our children” (27:25), let alone for the invectives in Matt 23. The gentile church could be understood as exculpated by modern interpreters looking for ways to uphold problematic traditions. As my students will sometimes say regarding much of the invective in the biblical text, “That’s how ‘the Jews’ talked to each other.” This is the same argument used by those who assign the various problematic texts to the hypothetical “Jewish-Christian M” source and thereby exculpate both Jesus (i.e., the Lord) and Matthew the redactor (i.e., the Christian).22 Should we, on the other hand, conclude that Matthew represents the perspective of Jews and gentiles, united in torah teaching filtered through Jesus and a soteriology in which Jesus is king, shepherd, and Lord, then the rhetoric is not quite in-house. I have ideological reasons for wanting this reading to be the case, but again, one can be biased and right. I received the articles in this volume as I was reading drafts from my own class on parables, spring semester 2019, at the Pontifical Biblical Institute. I had mentioned to the class my concerns with the classic, and outdated, works of Dodd and Jeremias, with, in Nathan Eubank’s words, their taking “for granted that the historical Jesus was endlessly condemning the works-righteousness and fearful striving of the Pharisees and other Jews, while offering divine acceptance to his own followers.” I flagged what he calls the “softened anti-Judaism” in the works of Bernard Scott, Jan Lambrecht, and others. The corrections helped, but only to some extent. Students continued to conclude that Judaism equated sin and poverty, wealth and righteousness, such that Jews would be shocked to hear that the rich man in Jesus’s parable landed in hell while the poor, sick Lazarus found himself in the bosom of Abraham. Reception history is a hermeneutical choice, as Karin Hedner Zetterholm’s study of the Pseudo-Clementines demonstrates. Readers of this volume will see how embedded Matthew is within a Jewish worldview 22. See Levine, Social and Ethnic Dimensions.

466

Amy-Jill Levine

that takes seriously torah and temple, purity and ethnicity, distinct identity within an empire that seeks homogenization. Matthew is, in modern terms, a promoter not of tribalism (negatively coded) but of multiculturalism (all to the good).

Bibliography

Adler, Yotanan. “The Archaeology of Purity: Archaeological Evidence for the Observance of Ritual Purity in Erez -Israel from the Hasmonean Period until the End of the Talmudic Era (164 BCE–400 CE).” PhD diss. Bar-Ilan University, 2011. ———. “Religion, Judaism: Purity in the Roman Period.” Pages 240–49 in The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Bible and Archaeology. Edited by Daniel M. Master. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013. Ådna, Jostein. “Temple Act.” DJG 2, 947–52. Aland, Barbara, Kurt Aland, Johannes Karavidopoulos, Carlo M. Martini, and Bruce M. Metzger, eds. The Greek New Testament. 5th rev. ed. Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2014. Albright, William F., and Christopher S. Mann. Matthew: Introduction, Translation, and Notes. AB 26. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1971, 1995. Alexander, Philip S. “Jewish Law in the Time of Jesus: Towards a Clarification of the Problem.” Pages 44–58 in Law and Religion: Essays on the Place of the Law in Israel and Early Christianity. Edited by Barnabas Lindars. Cambridge: Clarke, 1988. Allison, Dale C., Jr. “The Background of Romans 11:11–15 in Apocalyptic and Rabbinic Literature.” SBT 10 (1980): 229–34. ———. Constructing Jesus: Memory, Imagination, and History. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2010. ———. The End of the Ages Has Come: An Early Interpretation of the Passion and Resurrection of Jesus. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985. ———. Jesus of Nazareth: Millenarian Prophet. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1998. ———. “Matt 23:39 = Luke 13:35b as a Conditional Prophecy.” JSNT 18 (1983): 75–84. ———. The New Moses: A Matthean Typology. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993. ———. Review of The Parables of Jesus: A Commentary, by Arland J. Hultgren. HBT 24 (2002): 132–34. -467-

468

Bibliography

———. “The Scriptural Background of a Matthean Legend: Ezekiel 37, Zechariah 14, and Matthew 27.” Pages 153–81 in Life beyond Death in Matthew’s Gospel: Religious Metaphor or Bodily Reality? Edited by Wim Weren, Huub van de Sandt, and Joseph Verheyden. BTS 13. Leuven: Peeters, 2011. ———. “Touching Jesus’ Feet (Matt. 28:9).” Pages 107–16 in Studies in Matthew: Interpretation Past and Present. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005. Anti-Defamation League. “2017 Audit of Anti-Semitic Incidents.” https:// tinyurl.com/SBL4527a. ———. “Antisemitism.” https://tinyurl.com/SBL4527c. Aquinas, Thomas. Catena Aurea: Commentary on the Four Gospels, Collected Out of the Works of the Fathers: St. Matthew. Edited by John Henry Newman. Oxford: Parker, 1841. Avery-Peck, Alan J., Daniel J. Harrington, and Jacob Neusner, eds. When Judaism and Christianity Began: Essays in Memory of Anthony J. Saldarini. 2 vols. JSJSup 85. Leiden: Brill, 2004. Baasland, Ernst. Parables and Rhetoric in the Sermon on the Mount: New Approaches to a Classical Text. WUNT 351. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015. Bacchiocchi, Samuel. Immortality or Resurrection? A Biblical Study on Human Nature and Destiny. Berrien Springs, MI: Biblical Perspectives, 2001. Backhaus, Knut. “Entgrenzte Himmelsherrschaft: Zur Entdeckung der paganen Welt im Matthäusevangelium.” Pages 75–103 in “Dies ist das Buch …”: Das Matthäusevangelium: Interpretation—Rezeption—Rezeptionsgeschichte. Edited by Rainer Kampling. Paderborn: Bonifatius, 2004. Bacon, Benjamin W. “The ‘Five Books’ of Moses against the Jews.” Exp 15 (1918): 56–66. Baillet, Maurice, Józef Milik, and Roland de Vaux, eds. Les “Petites Grottes” de Qumran (Textes). DJD 3. Oxford: Clarendon, 1997. Baker, Cynthia M. Jew. KWJS. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2017. Barclay, John M. G. Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora: From Alexander to Trajan (323 BCE–117 CE). Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996.



Bibliography 469

Baron, Lori, Jill Hicks-Keeton, and Matthew Thiessen, eds. The Ways That Often Parted: Essays in Honor of Joel Marcus. ECL 24. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2018. Barth, Fredrik. “Introduction.” Pages 9–38 in Ethnic Groups and Boundaries: The Social Organization of Culture Difference. Edited by Fredrik Barth. London: Allen & Unwin, 1969. Barth, Gerhard. “Das Gesetzesverständnis des Evangelisten Matthäus.” Pages 54–154 in Überlieferung und Auslegung im Matthäusevangelium. Edited by Günther Bornkamm, Gerhard Barth, and Heinz Joachim Held. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1959. ———. “Matthew’s Understanding of the Law.” Pages 58–164 in Tradition and Interpretation in Matthew. Edited by Günther Bornkamm, Gerhard Barth, and Heinz Joachim Held. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1963. Barthélemy, Dominique, and Józef Milik, eds. Qumran Cave 1. DJD 1. Oxford: Clarendon, 1997. Barton, Carlin A., and Daniel Boyarin. Imagine No Religion: How Modern Abstractions Hide Ancient Realities. New York: Fordham University Press, 2016. Barton, John. Sin, Impurity, and Forgiveness. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. Barton, Stephen C. Discipleship and Family Ties in Mark and Matthew. SNTSMS 80. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995. Basser, Herbert W. The Gospel of Matthew and Judaic Traditions: A Relevance-Based Commentary. BRLJ 46. Leiden: Brill, 2015. Baasland, Ernst. Parables and Rhetoric in the Sermon on the Mount: New Approaches to a Classical Text. WUNT 351. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015. Bauckham, Richard J., ed. The Gospels for All Christians: Rethinking the Gospel Audiences. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998. ———. “In Response to My Respondents: Jesus and the Eyewitnesses in Review.” JSHJ 6 (2008): 225–53. ———. “Parting of the Ways: What Happened and Why.” ST 47 (1993): 135–51. Bauer, David R. “The Kingship of Jesus in the Matthean Infancy Narrative: A Literary Analysis.” CBQ 57 (1995): 306–23. Baumgarten, Albert I. The Flourishing of Jewish Sects in the Maccabean Era: An Interpretation. JSJSup 55. Leiden: Brill, 1997.

470

Bibliography

———. “Literary Evidence for Jewish Christianity in the Galilee.” Pages 39–50 in The Galilee in Late Antiquity. Edited by Lee I. Levine. New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1992. Baumgarten, Joseph, and Daniel R. Schwartz. “Damascus Document (CD).” Pages 4–57 in Damascus Document, War Scroll, and Related Documents. Vol. 2 of The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. PTSDSSP. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1995. Baxter, Wayne. “Healing and the ‘Son of David’: Matthew’s Warrant.” NovT 48 (2006): 36–49. ———. Israel’s Only Shepherd: Matthew’s Shepherd Motif and His Social Setting. LNTS 457. London: T&T Clark, 2012. Bazzana, Giovanni B. “ ‘Be Good Moneychangers.’ ” Pages 297–311 in Invention, Rewriting, Usurpation: Discursive Fights over Religious Traditions in Antiquity. Edited by David Brakke, Anders Christian Jacobsen, and Jörg Ulrich. Frankfurt: Lang, 2012. ———. “Paul among His Enemies? Exploring Potential Pauline Theological Traits in the Pseudo-Clementines.” Pages 120–30 in The Early Reception of Paul the Second Temple Jew. Edited by Isaac W. Oliver and Gabriele Boccaccini. London: T&T Clark, 2018. Beale, Greg K. Revelation. NIGTC. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999. Becker, Adam H., and Annette Yoshiko Reed, eds. The Ways That Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages. TSAJ 95. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003. Becker, Jürgen. Untersuchungen zur Entstehungsgeschichte der Testamente der Zwölf Patriarchen. AGJU 8. Leiden: Brill, 1970. Bell, Catherine. Ritual: Perspectives and Dimensions. New York: Oxford University Press, 1997. Betz, Hans Dieter. The Sermon on the Mount: A Commentary on the Sermon on the Mount including the Sermon on the Plain (Matthew 5.3–7.27 and Luke 6.20–49). Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995. Binder, Donald D. Into the Temple Courts: The Place of the Synagogues in the Second Temple Period. SBLDS 169. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 1999. Black, Matthew. An Aramaic Approach to the Gospels and Acts. 3rd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1967. Blanton, Thomas R., IV. “Saved by Obedience: Matthew 1:21 in Light of Jesus’ Teaching on the Torah.” JBL 132 (2013): 393–413. Bledsoe, Amanda Davis. “Daniel, Pseudo-Texts.” ESTJ 1:153–55.



Bibliography 471

Blomberg, Craig L. Interpreting the Parables. 2nd ed. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2012. ———. Matthew. Nashville: Broadman, 1992. Bock, Darrell L. Luke. 2 vols. BECNT. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1994. Bockmuehl, Markus. “God’s Life as a Jew: Remembering the Son of God as Son of David.” Pages 60–78 in Seeking the Identity of Jesus: A Pilgrimage. Edited by Beverly Roberts Gaventa and Richard B. Hays. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008. ———. Jewish Law in Gentile Churches: Halakhah and the Beginning of Christian Public Ethics. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2000. ———. “Matthew 5.32; 19.9 in the Light of Pre-rabbinic Halakah.” NTS 35 (1989): 291–95. Boring, Eugene. “Mark 1:1–15 and the Beginning of the Gospel.” Semeia 52 (1991): 43–81. Bornkamm, Günther. “Der Lohngedanke im Neuen Testament.” Pages 69–92 in vol. 2 of Studien zu Antike und Urchristentum: Gesammelte Aufsätze. Munich: Kaiser, 1963. Bowman, John Wick, and Roland W. Tapp. The Gospel from the Mount. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1957. Boyarin, Daniel. The Jewish Gospels: The Story of the Jewish Christ. New York: New Press, 2012. ———. Judaism: The Genealogy of a Modern Notion. KWJS. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2018. Bremmer, Jan N. “Pseudo-Clementines: Texts, Dates, Places, Authors and Magic.” Pages 1–23 in The Pseudo-Clementines. Edited by Jan N. Bremmer. Leuven: Peeters, 2010. Broer, Ingo. “Die Parabel vom Verzicht auf das Prinzip von Leistung und Gegenleistung (Mt 18, 23–35).” Pages 145–64 in À Cause de l’Évangile: Études sur les Synoptiques et les Actes: Offertes au P. Jacques Dupont, O.S.B. à l’occasion de son 70e anniversaire. Edited by François Refoulé. LD 123. Paris: Cerf, 1985. Brooke, George J. Exegesis at Qumran: 4QFlorilegium in Its Jewish Context. JSOTSup 29. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2006. Brown, Michael Joseph. “Matthew, Gospel of.” NIDB 3:839–52. Brown, Raymond E. The Death of the Messiah: From Gethsemane to the Grave; A Commentary on the Passion Narratives in the Four Gospels. 2 vols. ABRL. New York: Doubleday, 1994. ———. “The Resurrection in Matthew (27:62–28:20).” Worship 64 (1990): 157–70.

472

Bibliography

———. The Semitic Background of the Term “Mystery” in the New Testament. FBBS 21. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1968. Brown, Schuyler. “The Matthean Community and the Gentile Mission.” NovT 22 (1980): 193–221. ———. “The Mission to Israel in Matthew’s Central Section.” ZNW 69 (1978): 73–90. ———. “The Two-Fold Representation of the Mission in Matthew’s Gospel.” ST 31 (1977): 21–32. Büchler, Adolph. Studies in Sin and Atonement in the Rabbinic Literature of the First Century. London: Oxford University Press, 1928. Bultmann, Rudolf. History of the Synoptic Tradition. Translated by John Marsh. Rev. ed. New York: Harper & Row, 1963. ———. Theology of the New Testament. Translated by Kendrick Grobel. 2 vols. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2007. Burnett, Fred W. “Palingenesia in Matt. 19:28: A Window on the Matthean Community.” JSNT 17 (1983): 60–72. Burns, Joshua E. The Christian Schism in Jewish History and Jewish Memory. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2016. Burridge, Richard A. What Are the Gospels? A Comparison with GraecoRoman Biography. 3rd ed. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2018. Byrskog, Samuel. Jesus the Only Teacher: Didactic Authority and Transmission in Ancient Israel, Ancient Judaism and the Matthean Community. ConBNT 24. Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1994. Cadoux, Arthur T. The Parables of Jesus, Their Art and Use. New York: Macmillan, 1931. Callaway, Philip R. The History of the Qumran Community: An Investigation. JSPSup 3. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1988. Calvin, John. Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists. Vol. 1. Translated by William Pringle. CC 16. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1989. Campbell, Anthony F., and Mark A. O’Brien. Unfolding the Deuteronomistic History. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2000. Capon, Robert Farrar. Kingdom, Grace, Judgment: Paradox, Outrage, and Vindication in the Parables of Jesus. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002. Cara, Robert J. Cracking the Foundation of the New Perspective on Paul: Covenantal Nomism versus Reformed Covenantal Theology. REDS. Fearn, Ross-shire, UK: Christian Focus, 2017. Carlson, Donald H. Jewish-Christian Interpretation of the Pentateuch in the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2013.



Bibliography 473

Carmignac, Jean. “Le document de Qumrân sur Melkisédeq.” RevQ 7 (1969–1971): 343–78. Carson, Donald A., Peter T. O’Brien, and Mark Seifrid, eds. Justification and Variegated Nomism. 2 vols. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001. Carter, Warren. Matthew and Empire: Initial Explorations. Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 2001. ———. “Matthew and the Gentiles: Individual Conversion and/or Systemic Transformation?” JSNT 26 (2004): 259–82. ———. Matthew and the Margins: A Socio-political and Religious Reading. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2000. ———. Matthew: Storyteller, Interpreter, Evangelist. Rev. ed. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2004. ———. “Matthew’s Gospel: Jewish Christianity, Christian Judaism, or Neither?” Pages 155–79 in Jewish Christianity Reconsidered: Rethinking Ancient Groups and Texts. Edited by Matt Jackson-McCabe. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007. Carter, Warren, and John Paul Heil. Matthew’s Parables: Audience-Oriented Perspectives. CBQMS 30. Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1998. Casey, Maurice. An Aramaic Approach to Q. SNTSMS 122. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. ———. Aramaic Sources of Mark’s Gospel. SNTSMS 102. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Catchpole, David. Jesus People: The Historical Jesus and the Beginnings of Community. London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 2006. Catto, Stephen K. Reconstructing the First-Century Synagogue: A Critical Analysis of Current Research. LNTS 363. London: T&T Clark, 2007. Cavallin, Hans C. C. An Inquiry into the Jewish Background. Part 1 of Life after Death: Paul’s Argument for the Resurrection of the Dead in 1 Cor 15. Lund: Gleerup, 1974. Chae, Young S. Jesus as the Eschatological Davidic Shepherd: Studies in the Old Testament, Second Temple Judaism, and in the Gospel of Matthew. WUNT 2/216. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006. Chalcraft, David J., ed. Sectarianism in Early Judaism: Sociological Advances. London: Equinox, 2007. Charette, Blaine. The Theme of Recompense in Matthew’s Gospel. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1992.

474

Bibliography

Charles, Robert H. “The Assumption of Moses.” Pages 407–24 in Pseudepigrapha. Vol. 2 of Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament. Edited by Robert H. Charles. Oxford: Clarendon, 1913. Charlesworth, James H., ed. The Pesharim and Qumran History: Chaos or Consensus? Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002. ———. Rule of the Community and Related Documents. Vol. 1 of The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1994. Charlesworth, James H., and Loren L. Johns. Hillel and Jesus: Comparisons of Two Major Religious Figures. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1997. Chazan, Robert. From Anti-Judaism to Anti-Semitism: Ancient and Medieval Constructions of Jewish History. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2016. ———. Medieval Stereotypes and Modern Antisemitism. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997. Chester, Andrew. “Resurrection and Transformation.” Pages 47–77 in Auferstehung—Resurrection. Edited by Friedrich Avemarie and Hermann Lichtenberger. WUNT 135. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001. Cirafesi, Wally V. “John within Judaism: Religion, Ethnicity, and the Shaping of Jesus-Oriented Jewishness in the Fourth Gospel.” PhD diss., University of Oslo, 2018. Citron, Bernhard. “The Multitude in the Synoptic Gospels.” SJT 7 (1954): 408–18. Clabeaux, John. “Why Was Jesus Executed? History and Faith.” Pages 27–40 in Pondering the Passion: What’s at Stake for Christians and Jews. Edited by Philip Cunningham. Lanham, MD: Sheed & Ward, 2004. Clark, Kenneth W. “The Gentile Bias in Matthew.” JBL 66 (1947): 165–72. Coblentz Bautch, Kelley. “Obscured by the Scriptures, Revealed by the Prophets: God in the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies.” Pages 120–36 in Histories of the Hidden God: Concealment and Revelation in Western Gnostic, Esoteric, and Mystical Traditions. Edited by April D. DeConick and Grant Adamson. Durham: Acumen, 2013. Cohen, Akiva. Matthew and the Mishnah: Redefining Identity and Ethos in the Shadow of the Second Temple’s Destruction. WUNT 2/418. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016. Cohen, Jeremy. Christ Killers: The Jews and the Passion from the Bible to the Big Screen. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. Cohen, Shaye J. D. The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999.



Bibliography 475

———. From the Maccabees to the Mishnah. 3rd ed. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2014. ———. “The Significance of Yavneh: Pharisees, Rabbis, and the End of Jewish Sectarianism.” HUCA 55 (1984): 27–53. Collins, John J. “4Q242: Prayer of Nabonidus.” Pages 83–93 in Qumran Cave 4: Parabiblical Texts, Part 3. Edited by George Brooke, John Collins, Torleif Elgvin, Peter Flint, Jonas C. Greenfield, Erik Larson, Carol Newsom, Émile Puech, Lawrence H. Schiffman, Michael E. Stone, and J. Trebolle Barrera. DJD 22. Oxford: Clarendon, 1996. ———. The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature. 3rd ed. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016. ———. Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls. London: Routledge, 1997. ———. “The Background of the ‘Son of God’ Text.” BBR 7 (1997): 51–62. ———. “Daniel, Book of: Pseudo-Daniel.” EDSS 1:176–78. ———. Daniel. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1994. ———. “The Mythology of Holy War in Daniel and the Qumran War Scroll: A Point of Transition in Jewish Apocalyptic.” VT 25 (1975): 596–612. ———. “The Origin of the Qumran Community: A Review of the Evidence.” Pages 159–78 in To Touch the Text: Biblical and Related Studies in Honor of Joseph A. Fitzmyer, S.J. Edited by Paul J. Kobelski and Maurya P. Horgan. New York: Crossroad, 1989. Collins, John J., and Peter W. Flint. “4Q243–245: Pseudo-Daniel.” Pages 95–164 in Qumran Cave 4: Parabiblical Texts, Part 3. Edited by George Brooke, John Collins, Torleif Elgvin, Peter Flint, Jonas C. Greenfield, Erik Larson, Carol Newsom, Émile Puech, Lawrence H. Schiffman, Michael E. Stone, and J. Trebolle Barrera. DJD 22. Oxford: Clarendon, 1996. Collins, Matthew A. The Use of Sobriquets in the Dead Sea Scrolls. LSTS 67. London: T&T Clark, 2009. Collins, Nina L. Jesus, the Sabbath and the Jewish Debate: Healing on the Sabbath in the First and Second Centuries CE. LNTS 474. London: T&T Clark, 2014. Comber, Joseph A. “The Verb Therapeuō in Matthew’s Gospel.” JBL 97 (1978): 431–34. Cook, Michael J. “Interpreting ‘Pro-Jewish’ Passages in Matthew.” HUCA 54 (1983): 135–46. ———. Modern Jews Engage the New Testament: Enhancing Jewish WellBeing in a Christian Environment. Woodstock, VT: Jewish Lights, 2008.

476

Bibliography

———. “The Problem of Jewish Jurisprudence and the Trial of Jesus.” Pages 13–25 in Pondering the Passion: What’s at Stake for Christians and Jews. Edited by Philip Cunningham. Lanham, MD: Sheed & Ward, 2004. Cope, Lamar A. Matthew: A Scribe Trained for the Kingdom of Heaven. CBQMS 15. Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1976. Cotton, Hannah, Walter E. H. Cockle, and Fergus G. B. Millar. “The Papyrology of the Roman Near East: A Survey.” JRS 95 (1995): 214–35. Cotton, Hannah, and Joseph Geiger. “Wine for Herod.” Cathedra 53 (1989): 3–12. Cousland, J. Robert C. The Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew. NovTSup 102. Leiden: Brill, 2002. Cranfield, C. E. B. The Gospel according to Saint Mark. Reprint, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994. Crawford, Barry S., and Merrill P. Miller, eds. Redescribing the Gospel of Mark. ECL 22. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2017. Cross, Frank Moore. “The Development of the Jewish Scripts.” Pages 133– 202 in The Bible and the Ancient Near East: Essays in Honor of W. F. Albright. Edited by G. Ernest Wright. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1961. ———. “Fragments of the Prayer of Nabonidus.” IEJ 34 (1984): 260–64. Crossan, John Dominic. The Cross That Spoke: The Origins of the Passion Narrative. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988. ———. In Parables: The Challenge of the Historical Jesus. New York: Harper & Row, 1973. ———. Who Killed Jesus? Exposing the Roots of Anti-Semitism in the Gospel Story of the Death of Jesus. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1995. Crossley, James G. The Date of Mark’s Gospel: Insight from the Law in Earliest Christianity. LNTS 266. London: T&T Clark, 2004. ———. Jesus and the Chaos of History: Redirecting the Quest for the Historical Jesus. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015. ———. Why Christianity Happened: A Sociohistorical Account of Christian Origins, 26–50 CE. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2006. Crowe, Brandon D. The Obedient Son: Deuteronomy and Christology in the Gospel of Matthew. BZNW 188. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2012. Cullmann, Oscar. “Immortality of the Soul or Resurrection of the Dead: The Witness of the New Testament.” Pages 9–53 in Immortality and Resurrection: Death in the Western World; Two Conflicting Currents of Thought. Edited by Krister Stendahl. New York: Macmillan, 1965.



Bibliography 477

Cummins, S. Anthony. “Integrated Scripture, Embedded Empire: The Ironic Interplay of ‘King’ Herod, John and Jesus in Mark 6: 1–44.” Pages 31–48 in The Gospel of Mark. Vol. 1 of Biblical Interpretation in Early Christian Gospels. Edited by Thomas R. Hatina. LNTS 304. London: T&T Clark, 2006. Davidson, Maxwell J. Angels at Qumran: A Comparative Study of 1 Enoch 1–36, 72–108 and Sectarian Writings from Qumran. JSPSup 11. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1992. Davies, Graham I. “The Presence of God in the Second Temple and Rabbinic Doctrine.” Pages 32–36 in Templum Amicitiae: Essays on the Second Temple Presented to Ernst Bammel. Edited by William Horbury. JSOTSup 48. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1991. Davies, Philip R. “Death, Resurrection, and Life after Death in the Qumran Scrolls.” Pages 189–211 in Death, Resurrection and the World-to-Come in the Judaisms of Antiquity. Part 4 of Judaism in Late Antiquity. Edited by Alan J. Avery-Peck and Jacob Neusner. HOS 1. Leiden: Brill, 2000. ———. “The Teacher of Righteousness and the ‘End of Days.’ ” Pages 89–94 in Sects and Scrolls: Essays on Qumran and Related Topics, by Philip R. Davies. SFSHJ 134. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1996. Davies, W. D. The Setting of the Sermon on the Mount. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1964. Davies, W. D., and Dale C. Allison Jr. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. 3 vols. ICC. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997. ———. “Matt 28:16–20: Texts behind the Text.” RHPR 72 (1992): 89–98. Deasley, Alex. The Shape of Qumran Theology. Carlisle, UK: Paternoster, 2000. Deines, Roland. “Not the Law but the Messiah: Law and Righteousness in the Gospel of Matthew—An Ongoing Debate.” Pages 53–84 in Built upon the Rock: Studies in the Gospel of Matthew. Edited by Daniel M. Gurtner and John J. Nolland. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008. Denaux, Adelbert. “Matthew’s Story of Jesus’ Burial and Resurrection (Mt 27,57–28,20).” Pages 123–45 in Resurrection in the New Testament: Festschrift J. Lambrecht. Edited by Reimund Bieringer, Veronica Koperski, and Bianca Lataire. BETL 165. Leuven: Peeters, 2002. Derrett, J. Duncan M. “Ἔνοχος (Mt 5, 21–22) and the Jurisprudence of Heaven.” FN 19 (2006): 89–97. ———. “Palingenesia (Matt 19:28).” JSNT 20 (1984): 50–58.

478

Bibliography

Dibelius, Martin. From Tradition to Gospel. Translated by Bertram Lee Woolf. New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1935. Dicken, Frank. Herod as a Composite Character in Luke-Acts. WUNT 2/375. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. Dimant, Devorah. “Pesharim, Qumran.” ABD 5:244–51. ———, ed. Qumran Cave 4: Parabiblical Texts, Part 4: Pseudo-Prophetic Texts. DJD 30. Oxford: Clarendon, 2001. ———. “Resurrection, Restoration, and Time-Curtailing in Qumran, Early Judaism, and Christianity.” RevQ 19 (2000): 527–48. DiTommaso, Lorenzo. “4QPseudo-Daniela–b (4Q243–4Q244) and the Book of Daniel.” DSD 12 (2005): 101–33. Dobbeler, Axel von. “Die Restitution Israels und die Bekehrung der Heiden: Das Verhältnis von Mt 10,5b.6 und Mt 28,18–20 unter dem Aspekt der Komplementarität: Erwägungen zum Standort des Matthäusevangeliums.” ZNW 91 (2000): 18–44. Dobschütz, Ernst von. “Matthew as Rabbi and Catechist.” Pages 27–38 in The Interpretation of Matthew. Translated by Robert Morgan. Edited by Graham N. Stanton. 2nd ed. SNTI. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1995. Docherty, Thomas. Reading (Absent) Character: Towards a Theory of Characterization in Fiction. Oxford: Clarendon, 1983. Dodd, C. H. The Parables of the Kingdom. Rev. ed. New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1961. Doering, Lutz. Schabbat: Sabbathalacha und -praxis im antiken Judentum und Urchristentum. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1999. Donaldson, Terence L. “ ‘Gentile Christianity’ as a Category in the Study of Christian Origins.” HTR 106 (2013): 433–58. ———. Jesus on the Mountain: A Study in Matthean Theology. JSNTSup 8. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985. ———. Jews and Anti-Judaism in the New Testament: Decision Points and Divergent Interpretations. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2010. ———. Judaism and the Gentiles: Jewish Patterns of Universalism (to 135 CE). Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2007. ———. “Supersessionism and Early Christian Self-Definition.” JJMJS 3 (2016): 1–32. ———. “ ‘We Gentiles’: Ethnicity and Identity in Justin Martyr.” EC 4 (2013): 213–41. Doudna, Greg L. 4QPesher Nahum: A Critical Edition. JSPSup 35. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 2001.



Bibliography 479

Duncan, Patricia A. Novel Hermeneutics in the Greek Pseudo-Clementine Romance. WUNT 395. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2017. Dunn, James D. G. “Danielic Son of Man in the New Testament.” Pages 528–49 in vol. 2 of The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception. Edited by John J. Collins and Peter W. Flint. VTSup 133. FIOTL 2. Leiden: Brill, 2002. ———. “Jesus—Flesh and Spirit: An Exposition of Romans I. 3–4.” JTS 24 (1973): 40–68. ———. Jesus Remembered. CM 1. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003. ———. The Partings of the Ways: Between Christianity and Judaism and Their Significance for the Character of Christianity. London: SCM, 1991. ———. The Theology of Paul the Apostle. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998. Dupont, Jacques. “Le Logion des douze trônes.” Bib 45 (1964): 370–81. Eisenman, Robert H., and Michael Wise. The Dead Sea Scrolls Uncovered. New York: Penguin, 1992. Elledge, Casey D. Life after Death in Early Judaism: The Evidence of Josephus. WUNT 2/208. Tübingen, Mohr Siebeck, 2006. ———. “Resurrection of the Dead: Exploring Our Earliest Evidence Today.” Pages 22–52 in Resurrection: The Origin and Future of a Biblical Doctrine. Edited by James H. Charlesworth, Casey D. Elledge, James L. Crenshaw, Hendrikus Boers, and W. Waite Willis Jr. FSCS. London: T&T Clark, 2006. Elliger, Karl. Studien zum Habakuk Kommentar vom Toten Meer. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1953. Eshel, Hanan. “4Q390, the 490-Year Prophecy, and the Calendrical History of the Second Temple Period.” Pages 102–10 in Enoch and Qumran Origins: New Light on a Forgotten Connection. Edited by Gabriele Boccaccini. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005. Esler, Philip F. Babatha’s Orchard: The Yadin Papyri and an Ancient Jewish Family Tale Retold. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017. ———. The First Christians in Their Social Worlds: Social-Scientific Approaches to New Testament Interpretation. London: Routledge, 1994. ———. Galatians. NTR. London: Routledge, 1998. ———. “Giving the Kingdom to an Ethnos That Will Bear Its Fruit: Ethnic and Christ-Movement Identities in Matthew.” Pages 177–96 in In the Fullness of Time: Essays on Christology, Creation, and Eschatology in Honor of Richard Bauckham. Edited by Daniel M. Gurtner, Grant

480

Bibliography

Macaskill, and Jonathan T. Pennington. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016. ———. “Judean Ethnic Identity and the Matthean Jesus.” Pages 193–210 in Jesus—Gestalt und Gestaltungen: Rezeptionen des Galiläers in Wissenschaft, Kirche und Gesellschaft; FS für Gerd Theissen. Edited by Petra von Gemünden, David G. Horrell, and Max Küchler. NTOA. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013. ———. “Judean Ethnic Identity in Josephus’ Against Apion.” Pages 73–91 in A Wandering Galilean: Essays in Honour of Sean Freyne. Edited by Zuleika Rodgers with Margaret Daly-Denton and Anne Fitzpatrick McKinley. JSJSup 132. Leiden: Brill, 2009. ———. “Rival Group Identities in the Matthean Gospel: Evidence from Matthew 1–2 and 23.” Pages 19–35 in Conception, Reception and the Spirit: Essays in Honor of Andrew T. Lincoln. Edited by J. Gordon McConville and Lloyd K. Pietersen. Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2015. Eubank, Nathan. “Damned Disciples: The Permeability of the Boundary between Insiders and Outsiders in Matthew and Paul.” Pages 33–47 in Perceiving the Other in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity. Edited by Michal Bar Asher Siegal, Wolfgang Grünstäudl, and Matthew Thiessen. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2017. ———. “Storing Up Treasure with God in the Heavens: Celestial Investments in Matthew 6:1–21.” CBQ 76 (2014): 77–92. ———. Wages of Cross-Bearing and Debt of Sin: The Economy of Heaven in Matthew’s Gospel. BZNW 196. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2013. ———. “What Does Matthew Say about Divine Recompense? On the Misuse of the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard (20:1–16).” JSNT 35 (2013): 242–62. Eusebius. Books 1–5. Vol. 1 of Ecclesiastical History. Translated by Kirsopp Lake. LCL. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1926. Evans, Craig A. “Daniel in the New Testament: Visions of God’s Kingdom.” Pages 490–527 in vol. 2 of The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception. Edited by John J. Collins and Peter W. Flint. VTSup 133. FIOTL 2. Leiden: Brill, 2002. ———. “The Jewish Christian Gospel Tradition.” Pages 241–77 in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries. Edited by Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2007. ———. Matthew. NCBC. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Evans, Craig A., and Donald A. Hagner, eds. Anti-Semitism and Early Christianity: Issues of Polemic and Faith. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993.



Bibliography 481

Ewherido, Anthony O. Matthew’s Gospel and Judaism in the Late First Century C.E.: The Evidence from Matthew’s Chapter on Parables (Matthew 13:1–52). New York: Lang, 2006. Fiedler, Peter. Das Matthäusevangelium. TKNT 1. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2006. Fiensy, David A. Jesus the Galilean: Soundings in a First Century Life. Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias, 2007. Fitzmyer, Joseph A. The Gospel according to Luke. 3 vols. AYB 28. New York: Doubleday, 1981. ———. “Matthean Divorce Texts and Some New Palestinian Evidence.” TS 37 (1976): 197–226. Fletcher-Louis, Crispin H. T. “ ‘Leave the Dead to Bury Their Own Dead’: Q 9.60 and the Redefinition of the People of God.” JSNT 26 (2003): 39–68. Flint, Peter W. “The Daniel Tradition at Qumran.” Pages 329–67 in vol. 2 of The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception. Edited by John J. Collins and Peter W. Flint. VTSup 133. FIOTL 2. Leiden: Brill, 2001. Flusser, David. “Paul’s Jewish-Christian Opponents in the Didache.” Pages 195–211 in The Didache in Modern Research. Edited by Jonathan A. Draper. AJEC 37. Leiden: Brill, 1996. ———. “Two Anti-Jewish Montages in Matthew.” Imm 5 (1975): 37–45. Foster, Paul. Community, Law and Mission in Matthew’s Gospel. WUNT 2/177. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004. Fraade, Steven D. From Tradition to Commentary: Torah and Its Interpretation in the Midrash Sifre to Deuteronomy. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1991. France, R. T. The Gospel of Mark. NIGTC. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002. ———. The Gospel of Matthew. NICNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007. ———. Jesus and the Old Testament. London: Tyndale, 1971. Frankemölle, Hubert. Matthäus: Kommentar. 2 vols. Düsseldorf: Patmos, 1994–1997. ———. Jahwe-Bund und Kirche Christi: Studien zur Form- und Traditionsgeschichte des “Evangeliums” nach Matthäus. 2nd ed. NTAbh 2/10. Münster: Aschendorff, 1984. ———. “Zur Theologie der Mission im Matthäusevangelium.” Pages 93–129 in Mission im Neuen Testament. Edited by Karl Kertelge. Freiburg: Herder, 1982. Frankfurter, David. “Beyond ‘Jewish Christianity’: Continuing Religious Sub-cultures of the Second and Third Centuries and Their Docu-

482

Bibliography

ments.” Pages 131–43 in The Ways That Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages. Edited by Adam H. Becker and Annette Yoshiko Reed. TSAJ 95. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003. Fredriksen, Paula. “The Birth of Christianity and the Origins of Christian Anti-Judaism.” Pages 8–30 in Jesus, Judaism and Anti-Judaism: Reading the New Testament after the Holocaust. Edited by Paula Fredriksen and Adele Reinhartz. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2002. ———. “ ‘If It Looks Like a Duck, and It Quacks Like a Duck…’: On Not Giving Up the Godfearers.” Pages 25–33 in A Most Reliable Witness: Essays in Honor of Ross Shepard Kraemer. Edited by Susan Ashbrook Harvey, Nathaniel DesRosiers, Shira L. Lander, Jacqueline Z. Pastis, and Daniel Ullucci. BJS. Providence: Brown University Press, 2015. ———. “Judaizing the Nations: The Ritual Demands of Paul’s Gospel.” NTS 56 (2010): 232–52. ———. “Mandatory Retirement: Ideas in the Study of Christian Origins Whose Time Has Come to Go.” SR 35 (2006): 231–46. ———. Paul: The Pagans’ Apostle. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2017. Freedman, Harry, and Maurice Simon, eds. Midrash Rabbah. 3rd ed. 10 vols. New York: Soncino, 1983. Frey, Jörg. “The Character and Background of Matt 5:25–26: On the Value of Qumran Literature in New Testament Interpretation.” Pages 3–39 in The Sermon on the Mount and Its Jewish Setting. Edited by HansJürgen Becker and Serge Ruzer. CahRB 60. Paris: Gabalda, 2005. Freyne, Seán. “The Geography of Restoration: Galilee-Jerusalem Relations in Early Jewish and Christian Experience.” NTS 47 (2001): 289–311. ———. Jesus, a Jewish Galilean: A New Reading of the Jesus-Story. London: T&T Clark, 2004. Fuller, Reginald C. “The Bodies of the Saints (Mt 27,52–53).” Scripture 3 (1948): 86–87. Funk, Robert W. Language, Hermeneutic, and Word of God: The Problem of Language in the New Testament and Contemporary Theology. New York: Harper & Row, 1966. Funk, Robert W., Roy W. Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar. The Five Gospels: The Search for the Authentic Words of Jesus; New Translation and Commentary. New York: Macmillan, 1993. Gager, John G. The Origins of Anti-Semitism: Attitudes toward Judaism in Pagan and Christian Antiquity. New York: Oxford University Press, 1985.



Bibliography 483

———. “Paul, the Apostle of Judaism.” Pages 56–76 in Jesus, Judaism, and Christian Anti-Judaism. Edited by Paula Fredriksen and Adele Reinhartz. Louisville: John Knox, 2002. Gale, Aaron M. Redefining Ancient Borders: The Jewish Scribal Framework of Matthew’s Gospel. London: T&T Clark, 2005. Garbe, Gernot. Der Hirte Israels: Eine Untersuchung zur Israeltheologie des Matthäusevangeliums. WMANT 106. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchen Verlag, 2005. García Martínez, Florentino. “The Apocalyptic Interpretation of Ezekiel in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Pages 163–76 in Interpreting Translation: Studies on the LXX and Ezekiel in Honour of Johan Lust. Edited by Florentino García Martínez and Marc Vervenne. BETL 142. Leuven: Peeters, 2005. ———. The Dead Sea Scrolls Translated: The Qumran Texts in English. Leiden: Brill 1994. ———. “The Eschatological Figure of 4Q246.” Pages 162–79 in Qumran and Apocalyptic: Studies on the Aramaic Texts from Qumran. STDJ 9. Leiden: Brill, 1992. ———. “The Origins of the Essene Movement and of the Qumran Sect.” Pages 77–96 in The People of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Translated by Wilfred G. E. Watson. Edited by Florentino García Martínez and Julio Trebolle Barrera. Leiden: Brill, 1995. ———. “¿Sectario, no-sectario, o qué? Problemas de una taxonomía correcta de los textos qumránicos.” RevQ 23 (2008): 383–94. Gardner, Richard B. Matthew. BCBC. Scottdale, PA: Herald, 1991. Gaston, Lloyd. “The Messiah of Israel as Teacher of the Gentiles: The Setting of Matthew’s Christology.” Int 29 (1975): 24–40. Gerhardsson, Birger. The Origins of the Gospel Tradition. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979. Gerson, Lloyd. “The Myth of Plato’s Socratic Period.” AGP 96 (2014): 403– 30. Gielen, Marlis. Der Konflikt Jesu mit den religiösen und politischen Autoritäten seines Volkes im Spiegel der matthäischen Jesusgeschichte. BBB 115. Bodenheim: Philo, 1998. Giesen, Heinz. “Jesu Sendung zu Israel und die Heiden im Matthäusevangelium.” Pages 123–56 in Forschungen zum Neuen Testament und seiner Umwelt. Edited by Christoph Niemand. LPTR 7. Frankfurt: Lang, 2002.

484

Bibliography

Gnilka, Joachim. Das Matthäusevangelium. 2nd ed. 2 vols. HThKNT 1/1–2. Freiburg: Herder, 1986–1988. Goldin, Judah, trans. The Fathers according to Rabbi Nathan. YJS 10. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1955. Goldman, Liora. “Pesharim.” ESTJ 2:600–602. Goodacre, Mark. Thomas and the Gospels: The Case for Thomas’s Familiarity with the Synoptics. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012. Goodman, Martin. “Diaspora Reactions to the Destruction of the Temple.” Pages 27–38 in Templum Amicitiae: Essays on the Second Temple Presented to Ernst Bammel. Edited by William Horbury. JSOTSup 48. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1991. ———. “Jewish History, 331 BCE–135 CE.” Pages 583–89 in The Jewish Annotated New Testament. 2nd ed. Edited by Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Z. Brettler. New York: Oxford University Press, 2017. ———. “Religious Reactions to 70: The Limitations of the Evidence.” Pages 509–16 in Was 70 C.E. a Watershed in Jewish History? On Jews and Judaism before and after the Destruction of the Second Temple. Edited by Daniel Schwartz and Zeev Weiss. Leiden: Brill, 2011. ———. Rome and Jerusalem: The Clash of Ancient Civilizations. London: Lane, 2007. Gordon, Robert P., and Kevin Cathcart. The Targum of the Minor Prophets. Vol. 14 of The Aramaic Bible: The Targums. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1989. ———. “The Targumists as Eschatologists.” Pages 113–30 in Congress Volume: Göttingen, 1977. Edited by John Emerton. VTSup 29. Leiden: Brill, 1978. Gowler, David B. What Are They Saying about the Parables? Mahwah, NJ: Paulist, 2000. Grabbe, Lester L. “The Seventy-Weeks Prophecy (Daniel 9:24–27) in Early Jewish Interpretation.” Pages 595–611 in The Quest for Context and Meaning: Studies in Biblical Intertextuality in Honor of James A. Sanders. Edited by Craig A. Evans and Shermaryahu Talmon. BibInt 28. Leiden: Brill, 1997. Gray, Sherman W. The Least of My Brothers: Matthew 25:31–46; A History of Interpretation. SBLDS 114. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989. Green, Joel B. The Gospel of Luke. NICNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997. ———. “Heaven and Hell.” DJG2, 309–12.



Bibliography 485

Greenfeld, Jonas C., Michael E. Stone, and Esther Eshel. The Aramaic Levi Document: Edition, Translation, Commentary. SVTP 19. Leiden: Brill, 2004. Gregerman, Adam. Building on the Ruins of the Temple. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016. Gregg, Brian Han. The Historical Jesus and the Final Judgment Sayings in Q. WUNT 2/207. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006. Grindheim, Sigurd. “Ignorance Is Bliss: Attitudinal Aspects of the Judgment according to Works in Matthew 25:31–46.” NovT 50 (2008): 313–31. Gschwind, Karl. Die Niederfahrt Christi in die Unterwelt: Ein Beitrag zur Exegese des Neuen Testaments und zur Geschichte des Taufsymbols. NTAbh 2. Münster: Aschendorff, 1911. Gundry, Robert H. “The Apostolically Johannine Pre-Papian Tradition concerning the Gospels of Mark and Matthew.” Pages 49–73 in The Old Is Better: New Testament Essays in Support of Traditional Interpretations. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005. ———. Matthew: A Commentary on His Handbook for a Mixed Church under Persecution. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1994. ———. Matthew: A Commentary on His Literary and Theological Art. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982. ———. “Matthew: Jewish-Christian or Christian-Jewish? At an Intersection of Sociology and Theology.” Pages 111–19 in The Old Is Better: New Testament Essays in Support of Traditional Interpretations. Edited by Robert H. Gundry. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005. ———. The Use of the Old Testament in St. Matthew’s Gospel with Special Reference to the Messianic Hope. NovTSup 18. Leiden: Brill, 1967. Gurtner, Daniel M. “The Gospel of Matthew from Stanton to Present: A Survey of Some Recent Developments.” Pages 23–38 in Jesus, Matthew’s Gospel and Early Christianity: Studies in Memory of Graham N. Stanton. Edited by Daniel M. Gurtner, Joel Willitts, and Richard A. Burridge. LNTS 435. London: T&T Clark, 2011. ———. “Matthew’s Theology of the Temple and the ‘Parting of the Ways’: Christian Origins of the First Gospel.” Pages 128–53 in Built upon the Rock: Studies in the Gospel of Matthew. Edited by Daniel M. Gurtner and John J. Nolland. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008. ———. The Torn Veil: Matthew’s Exposition of the Death of Jesus. SNTSMS 139. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Gurtner, Daniel M., and Nicholas Perrin. “Temple.” DJG2, 939–47.

486

Bibliography

Gurtner, Daniel M., and Loren T. Stuckenbruck, eds. The T&T Clark Encyclopedia of Second Temple Judaism. 2 vols. London: T&T Clark, 2020. Guthrie, Donald. New Testament Theology. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1981. Hachlili, Rachel. Ancient Synagogues: Archaeology and Art; New Discoveries and Current Research. HOS 105. Leiden: Brill, 2013. ———. “The Origin of the Synagogue: A Re-assessment.” JSJ 28 (1997): 34–47. Häfner, Gerd. Der verheißene Vorläufer: Redaktionskritische Untersuchung zur Darstellung Johannes des Täufers im Matthäus-Evangelium. SBB 27. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1994. Hagner, Donald A. Matthew. 2 vols. WBC 33. Dallas: Word, 1993–1995; Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2006. ———. “Matthew: Christian Judaism or Jewish Christianity?” Pages 263–82 in The Face of New Testament Studies: A Survey of Recent Research. Edited by Scot McKnight and Grant R. Osborne. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2004. ———. “The Sitz im Leben of the Gospel of Matthew.” Pages 27–68 in Treasures New and Old: Recent Contributions to Matthean Studies. Edited by David R. Bauer and Mark Allan Powell. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1996. Hamilton, Catherine S. The Death of Jesus in Matthew: Innocent Blood and the End of Exile. SNTSMS 167. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017. Hare, Douglas R. A. “How Jewish Is the Gospel of Matthew?” CBQ 62 (2000): 264–77. ———. Matthew. Interpretation. Louisville: John Knox, 1993. ———. The Theme of Jewish Persecution of Christians in the Gospel according to St. Matthew. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1967. Hare, Douglas R. A., and Daniel J. Harrington. “ ‘Make Disciples of All the Gentiles’ (Mt 28:19).” CBQ 37 (1975): 359–69. Harland, Philip A. Associations, Synagogues and Congregations: Claiming a Place in Ancient Mediterranean Society. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003. Harrington, Daniel J. The Gospel of Matthew. SP 1. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2007. Heil, John Paul. The Death and Resurrection of Jesus: A Narrative-Critical Reading of Matthew 26–28. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991. ———. “Ezekiel 34 and the Narrative Strategy of the Shepherd and the Sheep Metaphor in Matthew.” CBQ 55 (1993): 698–708.



Bibliography 487

Hendriksen, William. Matthew. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1973. Hengel, Martin. Nachfolge und Charisma: eine exegetisch-religionsgeschichtliche Studie zu Mt. 8, 21f. und Jesu Ruf in die Nachfolge. Berlin: Töpelmann, 1968. ———. “Proseuche und Synagoge: Jüdische Gemeinde, Gotteshaus und Gottesdienst in der Diaspora und in Palästina.” Pages 27–54 in The Synagogue: Studies in Origins, Archaeology and Architecture. Edited by Joseph Gutmann. LBS. New York: Ktav, 1975. Henten, Jan W. van. “Matthew 2:16 and Josephus’ Portrayals of Herod.” Pages 101–22 in Jesus, Paul, and Early Christianity: Studies in Honour of Henk Jan de Jonge. Edited by Rieuwerd Buitenwerf, Harm Hollander, and Johannes Tromp. NovTSup 130. Leiden: Brill, 2008. Herzer, Jens. “The Riddle of the Holy Ones in Matthew 27: 51b–53: A New Proposal for a Crux Interpretum.” Pages 142–57 in vol. 1 of “What Does the Scripture Say?” Studies in the Function of Scripture in Early Judaism and Christianity. Edited by Craig A. Evans and H. Daniel Zacharias. LNTS 469. London: T&T Clark, 2012. Herzog, William R., II. Parables as Subversive Speech: Jesus as Pedagogue of the Oppressed. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994. Heyer, Cees den. “Historic Jesuses.” Pages 1079–1101 in Handbook for the Study of the Historical Jesus. Edited by Tom Holmén and Stanley E. Porter. Leiden: Brill, 2011. Hill, Charles E. “Paul’s Understanding of Christ’s Kingdom in I Corinthians 15:20–8.” NovT 30 (1988): 297–320. Hirshman, Marc. “Rabbinic Universalism in the Second and Third Centuries.” HTR 93 (2000): 101–15. ———. A Rivalry of Genius: Jewish and Christian Biblical Interpretation in Late Antiquity. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1996. Hobbins, John F. “Resurrection in the Daniel Tradition and Other Writings at Qumran.” Pages 395–420 in vol. 2 of The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception. Edited by John J. Collins and Peter W. Flint. VTSup 133. FIOTL 2. Leiden: Brill, 2001. Hoehner, Harold. “Herodian Dynasty.” DJG, 317–26. Hoffmann, Paul. Studien zur Theologie der Logienquelle. Munster: Aschendorff, 1972. Hogeterp, Albert L. A. “Belief in Resurrection and Its Religious Settings in Qumran and the New Testament.” Pages 299–320 in Echoes from the Caves: Qumran and the New Testament. Edited by Florentino García Martínez. STDJ 85. Leiden: Brill, 2009.

488

Bibliography

Hooker, Morna D. “Beginnings and Endings.” Pages 184–202 in The Written Gospel. Edited by Markus Bockmuehl and Donald Hagner. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. ———. “Uncomfortable Words X: The Prohibition of Foreign Missions (Mt 10.5–6).” ExpTim 82 (1971): 361–65. Horgan, Maurya P. Pesharim: Qumran Interpretations of Biblical Books. CBQMS 8. Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1979. ———. “Psalm Pesher 1 (4Q171 = 4QPsa = 4QpPs37 and 45).” Pages 6–23 in Pesharim, Other Commentaries, and Related Documents. Vol. 6B of The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations. Edited by James H. Charlesworth and Henry W. Rietz. PTSDDSP. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002. Horsley, Richard A. “The Death of Jesus.” Pages 395–422 in Studying the Historical Jesus: Evaluations of the State of Current Research. Edited by Bruce Chilton and Craig A. Evans. NTTSD 19. Leiden: Brill, 1994. Horst, Pieter W. van der. “Once More: The Translation of οἱ δέ in Matthew 28.17.” JSNT 27 (1986): 27–30. Hubbard, Benjamin J. The Matthean Redaction of a Primitive Apostolic Commissioning. Missoula, MT: Society of Biblical Literature, 1974. Hultgren, Arland J. The Parables of Jesus: A Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000. Hutchinson, John, and Anthony Smith. “Introduction.” Pages 3–14 in Ethnicity. Edited by John Hutchinson and Anthony Smith. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996. Hutton, Delvin D. “The Resurrection of the Holy Ones (Matt 27:51b–53): A Study of the Theology of the Matthean Passion Narrative.” ThD diss., Harvard University, 1970. Isaac, Jules. Jesus and Israel. Translated by Sally Gran. Edited by Claire Huchet Bishop. New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1971. Jacobson, Arland D. “The Literary Unity of Q.” JBL 101 (1982): 383–88. ———. “Q and the Deuteronomistic Tradition.” Paper presented at the Society of Biblical Literature Annual Meeting, Toronto, 2002. Jeremias, Gerd. Der Lehrer der Gerechtigkeit. SUNT 2. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1963. Jeremias, Joachim. Die Gleichnisse Jesu. 11th ed. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1998. ———. Neutestamentliche Theologie. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 1971.



Bibliography 489

———. New Testament Theology. Translated by John Bowden. New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1971. ———. The Parables of Jesus. 6th ed. Translated by Samuel H. Hooke. New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1963. Jerome. Commentary on Isaiah. Translated by Thomas P. Scheck. WFT 68. New York: Newman, 2015. ———. Saint Jerome: Commentary on Matthew. Translated by Thomas P. Scheck. FC. Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 2008. “Jew and Judean: A Forum on Politics and Historiography in the Translation of Ancient Texts.” A Marginalia Forum. 26 August 2014. https:// tinyurl.com/SBL4527d. Jokiranta, Jutta M. “ ‘Sectarianism’ of the Qumran ‘Sect’: Sociological Notes.” RevQ 20 (2001): 223–39. ———. Social Identity and Sectarianism in the Qumran Movement. STDJ 105. Leiden: Brill, 2013. ———. “Social-Scientific Approaches to the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Pages 246–63 in Rediscovering the Dead Sea Scrolls: An Assessment of Old and New Approaches and Methods. Edited by Maxine L. Grossman. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010. ———. “Sociological Approaches to Qumran Sectarianism.” Pages 200– 231 in The Oxford Handbook of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by Timothy H. Lim and John J. Collins. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010. Jones, F. Stanley. An Ancient Jewish Christian Source on the History of Christianity: Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.27–71. SBLTT 37. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995. ———. Pseudoclementina Elchasaiticaque inter Judaeochristiana: Collected Studies. Leuven: Peeters, 2012. ———, ed. The Rediscovery of Jewish Christianity: From Toland to Baur. HBS 5. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2012. ———. The Syriac Pseudo-Clementines: An Early Version of the First Christian Novel. Turnhout: Brepols, 2014. Jones, Ivor Harold. The Matthean Parables: A Literary and Historical Commentary. NovTSup 80. New York: Brill, 1995. Josephus. Books 1–2. Vol. 1 of The Jewish War. Translated by H. St. J. Thackeray. LCL. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1927. ———. The Life; Against Apion. Translated by H. St. J. Thackeray. LCL. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1926.

490

Bibliography

Jülicher, Adolf. Die Gleichnisreden Jesu. 2 vols. Freiburg: Mohr, 1888–1889. Kampen, John. “The Gospel of Matthew and the Challenge of Antisemitism.” MQR 92 (2018): 548–70. ———. “The Matthean Divorce Texts Reexamined.” Pages 149–67 in New Qumran Texts and Studies: Proceedings of the First Meeting of the International Organization for Qumran Studies, Paris 1992. Edited by George J. Brooke and Florentino García Martínez. STDJ 15. Leiden: Brill, 1994. ———. Matthew within Sectarian Judaism: An Examination. AYBRL. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2019. ———. “The Sectarian Form of the Antitheses within the Social World of the Matthean Community.” DSD 1 (1994): 338–63. ———. “The Social World of the Matthean Community.” Pages 158–74 in Communal Life in the Early Church: Essays Honoring Graydon F. Snyder. Edited by Julian V. Hills. Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 1998. ———. “Wisdom in Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literatures.” Pages 89–119 in Canonicity, Setting, Wisdom in the Deuterocanonicals: Papers of the Jubilee Meeting of the International Conference on Deuterocanonical Books. Edited by Géza G. Xeravits, József Zsengellér, and Xavér Szabó. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2014. Kampling, Rainer. Das Blut Christi und die Juden: Mt 27,25 bei den lateinischprachigen christlichen Autoren bis zu Leo dem Grossen. NTAbh 2/16. Münster: Aschendorff, 1984. Käsemann, Ernst. Commentary on Romans. Translated by Geoffrey W. Bromiley. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980. Kazen, Thomas. “Dirt and Disgust: Body and Morality in Biblical Purity Laws.” Pages 43–64 in Perspectives on Purity and Purification in the Bible. Edited by Baruch J. Schwartz, Naphtali S. Meshel, Jeffrey Stackert, and David P. Wright. LHBOTS 474. New York: T&T Clark, 2008. ———. “Disgust in Body, Mind, and Language: The Case of Impurity in the Hebrew Bible.” Pages 97–115 in Mixed Feelings and Vexed Passions: Exploring Emotions in Biblical Literature. Edited by F. Scott Spencer. RBS 90. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2017. ———. Emotions in Biblical Law: A Cognitive Science Approach. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2011. ———. “Evolution, Emotion and Exegesis: Disgust and Empathy in Biblical Texts on Moral and Ritual Issues.” Pages 191–218 in Linnaeus and Homo Religiosus: Biological Roots of Religious Awareness and Human



Bibliography 491

Identity. Edited by Carl R. Brakenhielm. Uppsala: Uppsala University Press, 2009. ———. Jesus and Purity Halakhah: Was Jesus Indifferent to Impurity? ConBNT 38. Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2002. ———. “The Role of Disgust in Priestly Purity Law.” JLRS 3 (2014): 62–92. ———. “Sacrificial Interpretation in the Narratives of Jesus’ Last Meal.” Pages 477–502 in vol. 3 of The Eucharist, Its Origins and Contexts: Sacred Meal, Communal Meal, Table Fellowship in Late Antiquity, Early Judaism, and Early Christianity. Edited by David Hellholm and Dieter Sänger. WUNT 376. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2017. ———. Scripture, Interpretation, or Authority? Motives and Arguments in Jesus’ Halakic Conflicts. WUNT 320. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. Keener, Craig S. The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-rhetorical Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009. Keith, Chris. Jesus against the Scribal Elite. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2014. Kennedy, Joel. The Recapitulation of Israel: Use of Israel’s History in Matthew 1:1–4:11. WUNT 2/257. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008. Kilpatrick, George D. The Origins of the Gospel to St. Matthew. Oxford: Clarendon, 1946. Kingsbury, Jack Dean. Matthew as Story. 2nd rev. and enl. ed. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1988. ———. The Parables of Jesus in Matthew 13: A Study in Redaction-Criticism. London: SPCK, 1969. Kinzer, Mark S. Jerusalem Crucified, Jerusalem Risen: The Resurrected Messiah, the Jewish People, and the Land of Promise. Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2018. ———. Searching Her Own Mystery: Nostra Aetate, the Jewish People, and the Identity of the Church. Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2015. Klauck, Hans-Josef. Allegorie und Allegorese in synoptischen Gleichnistexten. NTAbh 14. Münster: Aschendorff, 1986. Klawans, Jonathan. Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. ———. “Josephus, the Rabbis, and Responses to Catastrophes Ancient and Modern.” JQR 100 (2010): 278–309. ———. Purity, Sacrifice, and the Temple: Symbolism and Supersessionism in the Study of Ancient Judaism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006. Klein, Charlotte. Anti-Judaism in Christian Theology. Translated by Edward Quinn. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978.

492

Bibliography

Klijn, Albertus F. J., and Gerrit J. Reinink. Patristic Evidence for JewishChristian Sects. NovTSup 36. Leiden: Brill, 1973. Kline, Leslie L. The Sayings of Jesus in the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies. Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1975. Kloppenborg, John S. Excavating Q. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2000. ———. The Formation of Q: Trajectories in Ancient Wisdom Collections. SAC. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987. ———. “Nomos and Ethos in Q.” Pages 35–48 in Gospel Origins and Christian Beginnings: In Honor of James M. Robinson. Edited by James E. Goehring, Jack T. Sanders, and Charles W. Hedrick. Sonoma, CA: Polebridge, 1990. ———. “The Representation of Violence in the Synoptic Parables.” Pages 323–51 in Mark and Matthew I: Comparative Readings; Understanding the Earliest Gospels in Their First Century Settings. Edited by EveMarie Becker and Anders Runesson. WUNT 271. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011. Knowles, Michael. Jeremiah in Matthew’s Gospel: The Rejected-Prophet Motif in Matthean Redaction. JSNTSup 68. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993. Kobelski, Paul J. Melchizedek and Melchirša‘. CBQMS 10. Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1981. Konradt, Matthias. Das Evangelium nach Matthäus. NTD 1. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2015. ———. “Die Deutung der Zerstörung Jerusalems und des Tempels im Matthäusevangelium.” Pages 219–57 in Studien zum Matthäusevangelium. Edited by Alida Euler. WUNT 358. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016. ———. Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew. Translated by Kathleen Ess. BMSEC 2. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2014. ———. Israel, Kirche und die Völker im Matthäusevangelium. WUNT 215. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007. ———. “Matthäus im Kontext: Eine Bestandsaufnahme zur Frage des Verhältnisses der matthäischen Gemeinde(n) zum Judentum.” Pages 3–42 in Studien zum Matthäusevangelium. Edited by Alida Euler. WUNT 358. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016. ———. Studien zum Matthäusevangelium. Edited by Alida Euler. WUNT 358. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016. Korner, Ralph J. “Ekklēsia as a Jewish Synagogue Term: A Response to Erich Gruen.” JJMJS 4 (2017): 127–36. ———. The Origin and Meaning of Ekklesia in the Early Jesus Movement. AJEC 98. Leiden: Brill, 2017.



Bibliography 493

Kraeling, Carl. The Synagogue: Final Report 8, Part 1 of the Excavation at Dura-Europos. Edited by Alfred R. Bellinger. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1956. Kreinath, Jens, Constance Hartung, and Annette Deschner, eds. The Dynamics of Changing Rituals: The Transformation of Religious Rituals within Their Social and Cultural Context. TSR 29. New York: Lang, 2004. Krentz, Edgar. “The Extent of Matthew’s Prologue: Toward the Structure of the First Gospel.” JBL 83 (1964): 409–14. Kuhn, Heinz-Wolfgang. Enderwartung und gegenwärtiges Heil: Studien zur Umwelt des Neuen Testaments. SUNT 4. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1966. Lagarde, Paulus Antonius. Clementis Romani Recognitiones Syriace. Leipzig: Brockhaus, 1861. Lambrecht, J. Out of the Treasure: The Parables in the Gospel of Matthew. LTPM 10. Leuven: Peeters, 1992. Landau, Tamar. Out-Heroding Herod: Josephus, Rhetoric, and the Herod Narratives. AJEC 63. Leiden: Brill, 2006. Lane, William L. The Gospel of Mark. NICNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974. Lange, Armin, and Matthias Weigold. Biblical Quotations and Allusions in Second Temple Jewish Literature. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2011. Layang, Seng Ja. The Pharisees in Matthew 23 Reconsidered. Carlisle, UK: Langham, 2018. LeFebvre, Michael. Collections, Codes, and Torah: The Re-characterization of Israel’s Written Law. LHBOTS 451. London: T&T Clark, 2006. Lehrer, Tom. “Bright College Days.” More of Tom Lehrer. 1959. Lehtipuu, Outi. The Afterlife Imagery in Luke’s Story of the Rich Man and Lazarus. NovTSup 123. Leiden: Brill, 2007. Lemos, Tracy M. “Where There Is Dirt, Is There System? Revisiting Biblical Purity Constructions.” JSOT 37.3 (2013): 265–94. Levine, Amy-Jill. “Anti-Judaism and the Gospel of Matthew.” Pages 9–36 in Anti-Judaism and the Gospels. Edited by William R. Farmer. Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 1999. ———. “Jesus Talks Back.” Pages 282–98 in A Legacy of Learning: Essays in Honor of Jacob Neusner. Edited by Alan J. Avery-Peck, Bruce Chilton, William Scott Green, and Gary G. Porton. BRLJ 43. Leiden: Brill, 2014.

494

Bibliography

———. “Matthew’s Advice to a Divided Readership.” Pages 22–41 in The Gospel of Matthew in Current Study: Studies in Memory of William G. Thompson, S.J. Edited by David Aune. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001. ———. “Matthew’s Portrayal of the Synagogue and Its Leaders.” Pages 177–93 in The Gospel of Matthew at the Crossroads of Early Christianity. Edited by Donald Senior. BETL 243. Leuven: Peeters, 2011. ———. Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi. New York: HarperOne, 2014. ———. The Social and Ethnic Dimensions of Matthean Salvation History: “Go Nowhere among the Gentiles …” (Matt. 10:5b). SBEC 14. Lewiston, NY: Mellen, 1988. Levine, Amy-Jill, and Ben Witherington III. The Gospel of Luke. NCBC. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017. Levine, Lee I. The Ancient Synagogue: The First Thousand Years. 2nd ed. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005. ———. “The First-Century C.E. Synagogue in Historical Perspective.” Pages 1–24 in The Ancient Synagogue from Its Origins until 200 C.E.: Papers Presented at an International Conference at Lund University, October 14–17, 2001. Edited by Birger Olsson and Magnus Zetterholm. ConBNT 39. Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2003. ———. “The Nature and Origin of the Palestinian Synagogue Reconsidered.” JBL 115 (1996): 425–48. ———. “ ‘To All the Gentiles’: A Jewish Perspective on the Great Commission.” RevExp 103 (2006): 139–58. ———. Visual Judaism in Late Antiquity: Historical Contexts of Jewish Art. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012. Lewis, Naphtali. The Documents from the Bar Kohkba Period in the Cave of Letters: Greek Papyri and Aramaic and Nabatean Signatures and Subscriptions. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, Hebrew University of Jerusalem and the Shrine of the Book, 1989. Licona, Michael R. The Resurrection of Jesus: A New Historiographical Approach. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2010. Lim, Timothy H. “The Wicked Priests of the Groningen Hypothesis.” JBL 112 (1993): 415–25. Ljungman, Henrik. Guds barmhärtighet och dom: Fariséernas lära om de två “måtten.” Lund: Gleerup, 1950. Loader, William R. G. Jesus’ Attitude towards the Law. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997.



Bibliography 495

Lockshin, Martin I. “Is Holiness Contagious?” Pages 253–62 in Purity, Holiness, and Identity in Judaism and Christianity: Essays in Memory of Susan Haber. Edited by Carl Ehrlich, Anders Runesson, and Eileen Schuller. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. Lohfink, Norbert. “Der Messiaskönig und seine Armen kommen zum Zion: Beobachtungen zu Mt 21,1–17.” Pages 179–200 in Studien zum Matthäusevangelium. Edited by Ludger Schenke. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1988. Lüdemann, Gerd. Jesus after 2000 Years. New York: Prometheus Books, 2001. Luomanen, Petri. Entering the Kingdom of Heaven: A Study on the Structure of Matthew’s View of Salvation. WUNT 2/101. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1998. Luther, Martin. First Lectures on the Psalms II. Edited by Hilton C. Oswald. LW 11. Saint Louis: Concordia, 1976. ———. Lectures on Genesis. Edited by Jaroslav Pelikan. LW 3. Saint Louis: Concordia, 1961. ———. Selected Psalms III. Edited by Jaroslav Pelikan. LW 14. Saint Louis: Concordia, 1958. ———. Vom Shem Hamphoras und vom Geschlecht Christi. WA 53. Luz, Ulrich. “Der Antijudaismus im Matthäusevangelium als historisches und theologisches Problem: Eine Skizze.” EvT 53 (1993): 310–27. ———. Das Evangelium nach Matthäus. 4 vols. EKKNT. Düsseldorf: Benziger, 1985–2002. ———. Matthew: A Commentary. Rev. ed. 3 vols. Translated by James E. Crouch. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001–2007. ———. “Matthew: Apostate, Reformer, Revolutionary?” NTS 49 (2003): 193–209. Maaren, John van. “Does Mark’s Jesus Abrogate Torah? Jesus’ Purity Logion and Its Illustration in Mark 7:15–23.” JJMJS 4 (2017): 21–41. ———. “The Gospel of Mark within Judaism: Reading the Second Gospel in Its Ethnic Landscape.” PhD diss., McMaster University, 2019. Macaskill, Grant. Revealed Wisdom and Inaugurated Eschatology in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity. JSJSup 115. Leiden: Brill, 2007. Maccoby, Hyam. “The Washing of Cups.” JSNT 14 (1982): 3–15. Mack, Burton. The Lost Gospel: The Book of Q and Christian Origins. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993. ———. A Myth of Innocence: Mark and Christian Origins. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1988.

496

Bibliography

Magness, Jodi. The Archaeology of the Holy Land. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. ———. Stone and Dung, Oil and Spit: Jewish Daily Life in the Time of Jesus. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011. Manson, Thomas W. The Sayings of Jesus. London: SCM, 1957. Marcus, Joel. The Way of the Lord: Christological Exegesis of the Old Testament in the Gospel of Mark. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1992. Margulies, Mordecai. Midrash Wayyikra Rabbah: A Critical Edition Based on Manuscripts and Genizah Fragments with Variants and Notes. 2 vols. New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1993. Marshall, John W. “John’s Jewish (Christian?) Apocalypse.” Pages 233–56 in Jewish Christianity Reconsidered: Rethinking Ancient Groups and Texts. Edited by Matt Jackson-McCabe. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007. ———. Parables of War: Reading John’s Jewish Apocalypse. Waterloo: Wilfrid Laurie University Press, 2001. Martin-Achard, Robert. From Death to Life: A Study of the Development of the Doctrine of the Resurrection in the Old Testament. Translated by John Penney Smith. Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1960. Martyn, Louis J. “Clementine Recognitions 1,33–71, Jewish Christianity, and the Fourth Gospel.” Pages 265–95 in God’s Christ and His People: Studies in Honour of Nils Alstrup Dahl. Edited by Jacob Jervell and Wayne A. Meeks. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget, 1977. Mason, Steve. “Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism: Problems of Categorization in Ancient History.” JSJ 38 (2007): 457–512. Mauser, Ulrich W. Christ in the Wilderness: The Wilderness Theme in the Second Gospel and Its Basis in the Biblical Tradition. London: SCM, 1963. McAfee Moss, Charlene. The Zechariah Tradition and the Gospel of Matthew. BZNW 156. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2008. McCready, Wayne O., and Adele Reinhartz, eds. Common Judaism: Explorations in Second-Temple Judaism. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2008. McKay, Heather A. “Ancient Synagogues: The Continuing Dialectic between Two Major Views.” CurBR 6 (1998): 103–42. ———. Sabbath and Synagogue: The Question of Sabbath Worship in Ancient Judaism. RGRW 122. Leiden: Brill, 1994. McKay, Kenneth L. “The Use of hoi de in Matthew 28.17: A Response to K. Grayson.” JSNT 24 (1985): 71–72. McLaren, James S. “Exploring the Execution of a Provincial: Adopting a Roman Perspective on the Death of Jesus.” ABR 49 (2001): 5–28.



Bibliography 497

Meier, John P. Law and History in Matthew’s Gospel: A Redactional Study of Mt. 5:17–48. Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1976. ———. Matthew. NTM. Wilmington, DE: Glazier, 1980. ———. “Matthew, Gospel of.” ABD 4:622–41. ———. “Nations or Gentiles in Matthew 28:19?” CBQ 39 (1977): 94–102. ———. Probing the Authenticity of the Parables. Vol. 5 of A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2016. ———. The Vision of Matthew: Christ, Church, and Morality in the First Gospel. New York: Paulist, 1979. Meiser, Martin. Die Reaktion des Volkes auf Jesus: Eine redaktionskritische Untersuchung zu den synoptischen Evangelien. BZNW 96. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1998. Mendels, Doron. The Rise and Fall of Jewish Nationalism: Jewish and Christian Ethnicity in Ancient Palestine. ABRL. New York: Doubleday, 1992. Repr., Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997. Menninger, Richard E. Israel and the Church in the Gospel of Matthew. AUSTR 162. New York: Lang, 1994. Mertens, Alfred. Das Buch Daniel im Lichte der Texte vom Toten Meer. SBM 12. Würzburg: Echter, 1971. Metzger, Bruce M. A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament. 2nd ed. Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1994. Meyer, Ben F. Aims of Jesus. PTMS 48. Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2002. Meyer, Rudolf. Das Gebet des Nabonid. Berlin: Akademie, 1962. Meyers, Carol. “Temple, Jerusalem.” ABD 6:350–69. Milgrom, Jacob. Leviticus 1–16: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. AB 3. New York: Doubleday, 1991. Milik, Józef T. “Daniel et Susanne à Qumrân.” Pages 337–59 in De la Tôrah au Messie: Mélanges Henri Cazelles. Edited by Maurice Carrez, Joseph Doré, and Pierre Grelot. Paris: Desclée, 1981. ———. “Milkî-ṣedeq et Milkî-reša‘ dans les anciens écrits juifs et chrétiens.” JJS 23 (1972): 95–144. ———. “ ‘Prière de Nabonide’ et autres écrits d’un cycle de Daniel.” RB 63 (1956): 407–15. Milikowsky, Chaim. “Notions of Exile, Subjugation and Return in Rabbinic Literature.” Pages 265–96 in Exile: Old Testament, Jewish, and Christian Conceptions. Edited by James M. Scott. JSJSup 56. Leiden: Brill, 1997.

498

Bibliography

Minear, Paul S. “The Disciples and the Crowds in the Gospel of Matthew.” AThRS 3 (1974): 28–44. Mitchell, Matthew W. “The Yoke Is Easy, but What of Its Meaning? A Methodological Reflection Masquerading as a Philological Discussion of Matthew 11:30.” JBL 135 (2016): 321–40. Moessner, David P. Lord of the Banquet: The Literary and Theological Significance of the Lukan Travel Narrative. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989. Mohrlang, Roger. Matthew and Paul: A Comparison of Ethical Perspectives. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984. Molland, Einar. Opuscula Patristica. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget, 1970. Montefiore, Claude G. The Synoptic Gospels: Edited with an Introduction and a Commentary. 2nd rev. ed. 2 vols. London: Macmillan, 1909– 1927. Montefiore, Claude G., and Herbert M. J. Loewe. A Rabbinic Anthology. London: Macmillan, 1938. Moore, George Foot. “Christian Writers on Judaism.” HTR 14 (1921): 197–294. ———. Judaism in the First Centuries of the Christian Era: The Age of the Tannaim. 3 vols. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1927–1930. Mosser, Carl. “Torah Instruction, Discussion, and Prophecy in First-Century Synagogues.” Pages 523–51 in Christian Origins and Hellenistic Judaism: Social and Literary Contexts for the New Testament. Edited by Stanley E. Porter and Andrew W. Pitts. TENTS 10. Leiden: Brill, 2013. Moyise, Steve. Evoking Scripture: Seeing the Old Testament in the New. London: T&T Clark, 2008. Münch, Christian. Die Gleichnisse Jesu im Matthäusevangelium: Eine Studie zu ihrer Form und Funktion. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 2004. Nagy, Viktor Kókai. “ ‘Guter Baum – gute Früchte’ ist es prädestinatorisch?” BN 160 (2014): 3–17. Nanos, Mark D. Reading Paul within Judaism. Collected Essays of Mark D. Nanos. Vol. 1. Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2017. Nanos, Mark D., and Magnus Zetterholm, eds. Paul within Judaism: Restoring the First-Century Context to the Apostle. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015. Nepper-Christensen, Poul. Das Matthäusevangelium: Ein judenchristliches Evangelium? ATDan 1. Aarhus: Universitetsforlaget, 1958. Nestle, Eberhard. “ ‘Anise’ and ‘Rue.’ ” ExpTim 15 (1904): 528. Neusner, Jacob. “ ‘First Cleanse the Inside’: The ‘Halakhic’ Background of a Controversy Saying.” NTS 22 (1976): 486–95.



Bibliography 499

———. The Mishnah: A New Translation. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1988. ———. The Talmud of Babylonia. An American Translation. BJS. Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1984–1995. ———. The Tosefta: Translated from the Hebrew with a New Introduction. 2 vols. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2002. Newsom, Carol A. The Self as Symbolic Space: Constructing Identity and Community at Qumran. STDJ 52. Repr., Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2004. ———. “Thrones.” EDSS 2:946–47. ———. “Why Nabonidus? Excavating Traditions from Qumran, the Hebrew Bible, and Neo-Babylonian Sources.” Pages 57–79 in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Transmission of Traditions and Production of Texts. Edited by Sarianna Metso, Hindy Najman, and Eileen M. Schuller. STDJ 92. Leiden: Brill, 2010. Nickelsburg, George W. E. Ancient Judaism and Christian Origins: Diversity, Continuity, and Transformation. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003. ———. Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life in Intertestamental Judaism. HTS 26. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972. ———. Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life in Intertestamental Judaism and Early Christianity. Exp. ed. HTS 56. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2006. Nolan, Brian M. The Royal Son of God: The Christology of Matthew 1–2 in the Setting of the Gospel. Fribourg: Éditions Universitaires, 1979. Nolland, John. The Gospel of Matthew: A Commentary on the Greek Text. NIGTC. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005. Nongbri, Brent. Before Religion: A History of a Modern Concept. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2015. Noth, Martin. Deuteronomistic History. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1980. Nötscher, Friedrich. Zur theologischen Terminologie der Qumran-Texte. BBB 10. Bonn: Hanstein, 1956. Novakovic, Lidija. “Jesus as the Davidic Messiah in Matthew.” HBT 19 (1997): 148–91. ———. Messiah, the Healer of the Sick: A Study of Jesus as the Son of David in the Gospel of Matthew. WUNT 2/170. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003. ———. Raised from the Dead according to Scripture: The Role of Israel’s Scripture in the Early Christian Interpretations of Jesus’ Resurrection. JCT 12. London: T&T Clark, 2012.

500

Bibliography

Oliver, Isaac W. Torah Praxis after 70 CE: Reading Matthew and Luke-Acts as Jewish Texts. WUNT 2/355. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. Olmstead, Wesley G. Matthew’s Trilogy of Parables: The Nation, the Nations and the Reader in Matthew 21:28–22:14. SNTSMS 127. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Oppong-Kumi, Peter Yaw. Matthean Sets of Parables. WUNT 2/340. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. Origen. Der Kommentar zum Evangelium nach Matthäus. Translated and edited by Hermann J. Vogt. BGL 38. Stuttgart: Hiersmann, 1993. Osborne, Grant R. Matthew. ZECNT. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010. Osei-Bonsu, Joseph. “The Intermediate State in the New Testament.” SJT 44 (1991): 169–94. Overman, J. Andrew. Church and Community in Crisis: The Gospel according to Matthew. NTC. Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1996. ———. “Heroes and Villains in Palestinian Lore: Matthew’s Use of Traditional Jewish Polemic in the Passion Narrative.” Pages 592–602 in Society of Biblical Literature 1990 Seminar Papers. SBLSP 29. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990. ———. Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism: The Social World of the Matthean Community. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990. Painter, John. “Mark and the Pauline Mission.” Pages 527–55 in Two Authors at the Beginnings of Christianity, part 1 of Paul and Mark: Comparative Essays. Edited by Oda Wischmeyer, David C. Sim, and Ian J. Elmer. BZNW 198. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2014. Park, Eung Chun. The Mission Discourse in Matthew’s Interpretation. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1995. Parkes, James W. The Conflict of the Church and the Synagogue: A Study in the Origins of Antisemitism. London: Soncino, 1934. Patterson, Stephen J. “The End of Apocalypse: Rethinking the Eschatological Jesus.” ThTo 52 (1995): 29–48. Paul, Dagmar J. “Untypische” Texte im Matthäusevangelium? Studien zu Charakter, Funktion und Bedeutung einer Textgruppe des matthäischen Sonderguts. NTAbh 2/50. Münster: Aschendorff, 2005. Pennington, Jonathan T. Heaven and Earth in the Gospel of Matthew. NovTSup 126. Leiden: Brill, 2007. Perrin, Andrew. “Daniel, Book of.” ESTJ 1:149–53. Person, Raymond F. The Deuteronomistic School: History, Social Setting, and Literature. SBLStBL 2. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2002.



Bibliography 501

Pĕsiḳta dĕ Rab Kahăna: R. Kahana’s Compilation of Discourses for Sabbaths and Festal Days. Translated by W. G. Braude and I. J. Kapstein. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975. Philo. Every Good Man Is Free; On the Contemplative Life; On the Eternity of the World; Against Flaccus; Apology for the Jews; On Providence. Translated by F. H. Colson. LCL. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1941. Piotrowski, Nicholas G. Matthew’s New David at the End of Exile: A Sociorhetorical Study of Scriptural Quotations. NovTSup 170. Leiden: Brill, 2016. Portier-Young, Anathea E. “Languages of Identity and Obligation: Daniel as Bilingual Book.” VT 60 (2010): 98–104. Prabhu, Soares. The Formula Quotations in the Infancy Narrative of Matthew: An Enquiry into the Tradition History of Mt 1–2. Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1976. Priest, John. “The Testament of Moses (First Century A.D.): A New Translation and Introduction.” OTP 1:919–34. Puech, Émile. “4QApocryphe de Daniel ar.” Pages 165–84 in Qumran Cave 4.XVII: Parabiblical Texts, Part 3. Edited by George Brooke, John Collins, Torleif Elgvin, Peter Flint, Jonas C. Greenfield, E. Larson, Carol Newsom, Émile Puech, Lawrence H. Schiffman, Michael E. Stone, and J. Trebolle Barrera. DJD 22. Oxford: Clarendon, 1996. ———. “Fragment d’une apocalypse en araméen (4Q246 = pseudo-Dand) et le ‘Royaume de Dieu.’ ” RB 99 (1992): 98–131. ———. La croyance des Esséniens en la vie future: Immortalité, résurrection, vie éternelle? Histoire d’une croyance dans le judaïsme ancien. 2 vols. EBib 21–22. Paris: Gabalda, 1993. ———. “Notes sur le manuscrits de 11QMelkîsédeq.” RevQ 12 (1987): 483– 513. Pury, Albert de, Thomas Römer, and Jean-Daniel Macchi, eds. Israel Constructs Its History: Deuteronomistic Historiography in Recent Research. JSOTSup 306. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 2000. Quarles, Charles. “ΜΕΤΑ ΤΗΝ ΕΓΕΡΣΙΝ ΑΥΤΟΥ: A Scribal Interpolation in Matthew 27:53?” JBTC 20 (2015): 1–15. Rad, Gerhard von. “The Deuteronomic Theology of History in I and II Kings.” Pages 205–21 in The Problem of the Hexateuch and Other Essays by Gerhard von Rad. London: Oliver & Boyd, 1966.

502

Bibliography

Reed, Annette Yoshiko. Fallen Angels and the History of Judaism and Christianity: The Reception of Enochic Literature. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. ———. “From Judaism and Hellenism to Christainity and Paganism.” Pages 425–35 in Nouvelles intrigues pseudo-clémentines Plots in the PseudoClementine Romance: Actes du deuxième colloque international sur la littérature apocryphe chrétienne, Lausanne–Genève, 30 août–2 septembre 2006. Edited by Frédéric Amsler, Albert Frey, Charlotte Touati, and Reneé Girardet. Prahins: Éditions du Zèbre, 2008. ———. “ ‘Jewish Christianity’ after the Parting of the Ways’: Approaches to Historiography and Self-Definition in the Pseudo-Clementines.” Pages 189–231 in The Ways That Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages. Edited by Adam H. Becker and Annette Yoshiko Reed. TSAJ 95. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003. ———. “ ‘Jewish Christianity’ as Counter-history? The Apostolic Past in Eusebius’ Ecclesiastical History and the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies.” Pages 172–216 in Antiquity in Antiquity: Jewish and Christian Pasts in the Greco-Roman World. Edited by Gregg Gardner and Kevin L. Osterloh. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008. ———. “When Did Rabbis Become Pharisees? Reflections on Christian Evidence for Post-70 Judaism.” Pages 860–95 in Envisioning Judaism: Studies in Honor of Peter Schäfer on the Occasion of His Seventieth Birthday. Edited by Ra’anan S. Boustan, Klaus Herrmann, Reimund Leicht, Annette Yoshika Reed, and Giuseppe Veltri. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. Reed, Annette Yoshiko, and Ra’anan S. Boustan. “Blood and Atonement in the Pseudo-Clementines and the Story of the Ten Martyrs: The Problem of Selectivity in the Study of ‘Judaism’ and ‘Christianity.’ ” Henoch 30 (2008): 333–64. Regev, Eyal. “Moral Impurity and the Temple in Early Christianity in Light of Ancient Greek Practice and Qumranic Ideology.” HTR 97 (2004): 383–411. Rehm, Bernhard. Rekognitionen in Rufinus Übersetzung. Vol. 2 of Die Pseudoklementinen. Berlin: Akademie, 1965. Reicke, Bo. “The New Testament Conception of Reward.” Pages 195–206 in Aux sources de la tradition chréttienne: Mélanges offerts à M. Maurice Goguel. BT. Paris: Delachaux and Niestlé, 1950. Reid, Barbara E. The Gospel according to Matthew. NCBC. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2005.



Bibliography 503

Reif, Stefan C. Judaism and Hebrew Prayer: New Perspectives on Jewish Liturgical History. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Reinbold, Wolfgang. “Das Matthäusevangelium, die Pharisäer und die Tora.” BZ 50 (2006): 51–73. Reinhartz, Adele. Cast Out of the Covenant: Jews and Anti-Judaism in the Gospel of John. Lanham, MD: Lexington, 2018. Reiser, Marius. Jesus and Judgment: The Eschatological Proclamation in Its Jewish Context. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1997. Repschinski, Boris. The Controversy Stories in the Gospel of Matthew: Their Redaction, Form and Relevance for the Relationship between the Matthean Community and Formative Judaism. FRLANT 189. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000. ———. “Purity in Matthew, James, and the Didache.” Pages 379–95 in Matthew, James, and Didache: Three Related Documents in Their Jewish and Christian Settings. Edited by Hubb van de Sandt and Jürgen K. Zangenberg. SymS 45. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2008. Richardson, Peter. “An Architectural Case for Synagogues as Associations.” Pages 90–117 in The Ancient Synagogue from Its Origins until 200 C.E.: Papers Presented at an International Conference at Lund University, October 14–17, 2001. Edited by Birger Olsson and Magnus Zetterholm. ConBNT 39. Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2003. ———. “Early Synagogues as Collegia in the Diaspora and Palestine.” Pages 90–109 in Voluntary Associations in the Ancient World. Edited by Stephen G. Wilson and John Kloppenborg. London: Routledge, 1996. Richardson, Peter, and Amy M. Fisher. Herod: King of the Jews and Friend of the Romans. 2nd ed. London: Routledge, 2018. Riches, John K. Conflicting Mythologies: Identity Formation in the Gospels of Mark and Matthew. SNTW. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2000. Riesner, Rainer. Jesus als Lehrer: Eine Untersuchung zum Ursprung der Evangelien-Überlieferung. 3rd ed. WUNT 2/7. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1988. Rigaux, Beda. The Testimony of St. Matthew. Translated by Paul J. Oligny. Chicago: Franciscan Herald, 1968. Ringe, Sharon H. “Solidarity and Contextuality: Readings of Matthew 18:21–35.” Pages 199–212 in Reading from this Place: Social Location and Biblical Interpretation in the United States. Edited by Fernando F. Segovia and Mary Ann Tolbert. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995. Rivkin, Ellis. What Crucified Jesus? The Political Execution of a Charismatic. Nashville: Abingdon, 1984.

504

Bibliography

Robinson, James M., Paul Hoffmann, and John S. Kloppenborg, eds. The Critical Edition of Q: Synopsis including the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, Mark and Thomas with English, German, and French Translations of Q and Thomas. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2000. Roitto, Rikard. “Forgiveness, Rituals, and Social Memory: Obliging Forgiveness.” Pages 187–209 in Social Memory and Social Identity in the Study of Early Judaism and Early Christianity. Edited by Samuel Byrskog, Raimo Hakola, and Jutta Jokiranta. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2016. Rosenfeld, Alvin H., ed. Deciphering the New Antisemitism. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2015. Rosen-Zvi, Ishay, and Adi Ophir. “Goy: Toward a Genealogy.” DI 28 (2011): 69–122. Ruether, Rosemary Radford. “Anti-Judaism Is the Left Hand of Christology.” Pages 1–9 in Jewish-Christian Relations. Edited by Robert Heyer. New York: Paulist, 1974. ———. “The Faith and Fratricide Discussion: Old Problems and New Dimension.” Pages 230–56 in Antisemitism and the Foundations of Christianity. Edited by Alan T. Davies. New York: Paulist, 1979. ———. Faith and Fratricide: The Theological Roots of Anti-Semitism. New York: Seabury, 1974. ———. To Change the World: Christology and Cultural Criticism. New York: Crossroad, 1981. Runesson, Anders. “Architecture, Conflict, and Identity Formation: Jews and Christians in Capernaum from the First to the Sixth Century.” Pages 231–57 in Religion, Ethnicity and Identity in Ancient Galilee: A Region in Transition. Edited by Jürgen Zangenberg, Harold W. Attridge, and Dale Martin. WUNT 210. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007. ———. “Behind the Gospel of Matthew: Radical Pharisees in Post-war Galilee?” CurTM 37 (2010): 460–71. ———. “City of God or Home of Traitors and Killers? Jerusalem according to Matthew.” Pages 219–35 in The Urban World and the First Christians. Edited by Steve Walton, Paul R. Trebilco, and David W. J. Gill. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2017. ———. Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016. ———. “Entering a Synagogue with Paul: First-Century Torah Observance.” Pages 11–26 in Torah Ethics and Early Christian Identity.



Bibliography 505

Edited by Susan J. Wendel and David M. Miller. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016. ———. “Giving Birth to Jesus in the Late First Century: Matthew as Midwife in the Context of Colonisation.” Pages 301–27 in Infancy Gospels: Stories and Identities. Edited by Claire Clivaz, Andreas Dettwiler, Luc Devilliers, and Enrico Norelli. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011. ———. “The Historical Jesus, the Gospels, and First-Century Jewish Society: The Importance of the Synagogue for Understanding the New Testament.” Pages 265–97 in A City Set on a Hill: Essays in Honor of James F. Strange. Edited by Daniel A. Warner and Donald D. Binder. Mountain Home, AR: Borderstone, 2014. ———. “Inventing Christian Identity: Paul, Ignatius, and Theodosius I.” Pages 59–92 in Exploring Early Christian Identity. Edited by Bengt Holmberg. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008. ———. “Judging Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew: Between ‘Othering’ and Inclusion.” Pages 133–51 in Matthew’s Gospel and Early Christianity: Studies in Memory of Professor Graham Stanton. Edited by Joel Willitts, Daniel M. Gurtner, and Richard A. Burridge. London: T&T Clark, 2011. ———. “Matthew, Gospel according to.” Pages 59–78 in vol. 2 of The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Books of the Bible. Edited by Michael D. Coogan. 2 vols. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011. ———. The Origins of the Synagogue: A Socio-historical Study. ConBNT 37. Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2001. ———. “Purity, Holiness, and the Kingdom of Heaven in Matthew’s Narrative World.” Pages 144–80 in Purity and Holiness in Judaism and Christianity: Essays in Memory of Susan Haber. Edited by Carl Ehrlich, Anders Runesson, and Eileen Schuller. WUNT 305. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. ———. “The Question of Terminology: The Architecture of Contemporary Discussion on Paul.” Pages 53–77 in Paul within Judaism: Restoring the First-Century Context to the Apostle. Edited by Mark D. Nanos and Magnus Zetterholm. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015. ———. “Re-thinking Early Jewish-Christian Relations: Matthean Community History as Pharisaic Intra-group Conflict.” JBL 127 (2008): 95–132. ———. “Saving the Lost Sheep of Israel: Purity, Forgiveness, and Synagogues in the Gospel of Matthew.” Melilah 11 (2014): 3–24.

506

Bibliography

———. “Was There a Christian Mission before the Fourth Century? Problematizing Common Ideas about Early Christianity and the Beginnings of Modern Mission.” Pages 205–47 in The Making of Christianity: Conflicts, Contacts, and Constructions. Edited by Magnus Zetterholm and Samuel Byrskog. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2012. Runesson, Anders, Donald D. Binder, and Birger Olsson. The Ancient Synagogue from Its Origins to 200 C.E.: A Source Book. AJEC 72. Leiden: Brill, 2008. Ruzer, Serge. Mapping the New Testament: Early Christian Writings as a Witness for Jewish Biblical Exegesis. JCPS 13. Leiden: Brill, 2007. Ryan, Jordan J. “Jesus and Synagogue Disputes: Recovering the Institutional Context of Luke 13:10–17.” CBQ 79 (2017): 41–59. ———. The Role of the Synagogue in the Aims of Jesus. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2017. Sailhamer, John. “The Messiah and the Hebrew Bible.” JETS 44 (2001): 5–23. Saldarini, Anthony J. “The Gospel of Matthew and Jewish-Christian Conflict.” Pages 38–61 in Social History of the Matthean Community: Cross-Disciplinary Approaches. Edited by David L. Balch. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991. ———. Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community. CSHJ. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994. Sanders, E. P. Jesus and Judaism. London: SCM, 1985. ———. Jewish Law from Jesus to the Mishnah: Five Studies. London: SCM, 1990. ———. Judaism: Practice and Belief, 63 B.C.E.–66 C.E. London: SCM, 1994. ———. Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977. Sandmel, Samuel. Anti-Semitism in the New Testament? Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978. ———. A Jewish Understanding of the New Testament. Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 1956. Sandt, Huub van de, and David Flusser. The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and Its Place in Early Judaism and Christianity. Assen: Van Gorcum, 2002. Schäfer, Peter. Judeophobia: Attitudes toward the Jews in the Ancient World. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1999. Schaller, Berndt. “The Character and Function of the Antitheses in Matt 5:21–48 in the Light of Rabbinical Exegetic Disputes.” Pages 70–88



Bibliography 507

in The Sermon on the Mount and Its Jewish Setting. Edited by HansJürgen Becker and Serge Ruzer. CahRB 60. Paris: Gabalda, 2005. Schaser, Nicholas. “Matthew and the Rabbis: Symbol and Scripture in Gospel and Midrash.” PhD diss. Vanderbilt University, 2017. Schearing, Linda S., and Steven L. McKenzie, eds. Those Elusive Deuteronomists: The Phenomenon of Pan-Deuteronomism. JSOTSup 268. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1999. Schnabel, Eckhard J. Early Christian Mission. 2 vols. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2004. Schnackenburg, Rudolf. The Gospel of Matthew. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002. Schniedewind, William M. “Deuteronomy and Its Legacy in Second Temple Judaism.” Paper presented at Society of Biblical Literature Annual Meeting, Toronto, 2002. Schniewind, Julius. Das Evangelium nach Matthäus. 8th ed. NTD 2. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1956. Schöpflin, Karin. “The Revivification of the Dry Bones: Ezekiel 37:1–14.” Pages 67–85 in The Human Body in Death and Resurrection. Edited by Tobias Nicklas, Friedrich V. Reiterer, and Joseph Verheyden. DCLS 2009. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2009. Schreckenberg, Heinz. Die christlichen Adversus-Judaeos-Texte (11.–13. Jh.): Mit einer Ikonographie des Judenthemas bis zum 4. Laterankonzil. Frankfurt: Lang, 1988. ———. The Jews in Christian Art: An Illustrated History. New York: Continuum, 1996. Schuller, Eileen M., and Carol A. Newsom, trans. The Hodayot (Thanksgiving Psalms): A Study Edition of 1QHa. EJL 36. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2012. Schwartz, Daniel R., and Zeev Weiss with R. A. Clements, eds. Was 70 CE a Watershed in Jewish History? On Jews and Judaism before and after the Destruction of the Second Temple. AJEC 78. Leiden, Brill, 2012. Schweitzer, Albert. The Quest of the Historical Jesus: A Critical Study. Translated by William Montgomery. 2nd English ed. London: Black, 1926. Schweizer, Eduard. The Good News according to Matthew. Translated by David E. Green. Atlanta: John Knox, 1975; London, SPCK 1978. Scott, Bernard B. “The Birth of the Reader.” Semeia 52 (1991): 83–101. ———. Hear Then the Parable: A Commentary on the Parables of Jesus. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989.

508

Bibliography

Scott, J. Julius. “Gentiles and the Ministry of Jesus: Further Observations on Matt 10:5–6; 15:21–28.” JETS 33 (1990): 161–69. Segal, Alan F. Life after Death: A History of the Afterlife in Western Religion. New York: Doubleday, 2004. ———. “Matthew’s Jewish Voice.” Pages 3–37 in Social History of the Matthean Community: Cross-Disciplinary Approaches. Edited by David L. Balch. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991. Segal, Michael. “Who Is the ‘Son of God’ in 4Q246? An Overlooked Example of Biblical Interpretation.” DSD 21 (2014): 289–312. Senior, Donald P. “Between Two Worlds: Gentiles and Jewish Christians in Matthew’s Gospel.” CBQ 61 (1999): 1–23. ———. “The Death of Jesus and the Resurrection of the Holy Ones (Mt 27: 51–53).” CBQ 38 (1976): 312–29. ———. The Passion according to Matthew: A Redactional Study. BETL 29. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1975. ———. The Passion of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew. Wilmington, DE: Glazier, 1985. Setzer, Claudia. Resurrection of the Body in Early Judaism and Early Christianity: Doctrine, Community and Self-Definition. Leiden: Brill, 2004. ———. “Sinai, Covenant, and Innocent Blood Traditions in Matthew’s Blood Cry (Matt 27:25).” Pages 169–86 in The Ways That Often Parted: Essays in Honor of Joel Marcus. Edited by Lori Baron, Jill Hicks-Keeton, and Matthew Thiessen. ECL. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2018. Shuve, Karl E. “The Doctrine of the False Pericopes and Other Late Antique Approaches to the Problem of Scripture’s Unity.” Pages 437–45 in Nouvelles intrigues pseudo-clémentines Plots in the Pseudo-Clementine Romance: Actes du deuxième colloque international sur la littérature apocryphe chrétienne, Lausanne–Genève, 30 aout–2 septembre 2006. Edited by Frédéric Amsler, Albert Frey, Charlotte Touati, and Renée Girardet. Prahins: Éditions du Zèbre, 2008. Sigal, Phillip. The Halakhah of Jesus of Nazareth according to the Gospel of Matthew. SBLStBL 18. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2007. Sim, David C. Apocalyptic Eschatology in the Gospel of Matthew. SNTSMS 88. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. ———. The Gospel of Mathew and Christian Judaism: The History and Social Setting of the Matthean Community. SNTW. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998. ———. “The Gospel of Matthew and the Gentiles.” JSNT 57 (1995): 19–48.



Bibliography 509

———. “The Gospel of Matthew, John the Elder, and the Papias Tradition: A Response to Robert H. Gundry.” HTS 63 (2007): 283–99. ———. “Matthew and Paul on the Torah: Theory and Practice.” Pages 50–64 in Paul, Grace and Freedom: Essays in Honour of John K. Riches. Edited by Paul Middleton, Angus Paddison, and Karen J. Wenell. London: T&T Clark, 2009. ———. “Matthew: The Current State of Research.” Pages 33–51 in Mark and Matthew I: Comparative Readings; Understanding the Earliest Gospels in Their First-Century Settings. Edited by Eve-Marie Becker and Anders Runesson. WUNT 271. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011. Sim, David C., and James S. McLaren, eds. Attitudes to Gentiles in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity. LNTS 499. London: Bloomsbury, 2013. Sjöberg, Erik. Gott und die Sünder im palästinischen Judentum nach dem Zeugnis der Tannaiten und der apokryphisch-pseudepigraphischen Literatur. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1939. Skinner, Christopher W. “Love One Another: The Johannine Love Command in the Farewell Discourse.” Pages 25–42 in Johannine Ethics: The Moral World of the Gospel and Epistles of John. Edited by Christopher W. Skinner and Sherri Brown. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2017. Skinner, Matthew L. The Trial Narratives: Conflict, Power, and Identity in the New Testament. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2010. Sklar, Jay. Sin, Impurity, Sacrifice, Atonement: The Priestly Conceptions. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2005. Sloyan, Gerard S. Jesus on Trial: A Study of the Gospels. 2nd ed. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2006. Smith, Bertram T. D. The Parables of the Synoptic Gospels: A Critical Study. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1937. Smith, Dennis E. “Narrative Beginnings in Ancient Literature and Theory.” Semeia 52 (1991): 1–7. Snodgrass, Klyne R. “From Allegorizing to Allegorizing: A History of the Interpretation of the Parables of Jesus.” Pages 3–29 in The Challenge of Jesus’ Parables. Edited by Richard N. Longenecker. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000. ———. “Matthew’s Understanding of the Law.” Int 46 (1992): 368–78. ———. Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018. Sperber, Daniel. “Bat Qol.” ODJR, 104. Spigel, Chad S. Ancient Synagogue Seating Capacities. TSAJ 149. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012.

510

Bibliography

Stanley, Christopher. “ ‘Neither Jew Nor Greek’: Ethnic Conflict in GraecoRoman Society.” JSNT 64 (1992): 101–24. Stanton, Graham N. “5 Ezra and Matthean Christianity in the Second Century.” JTS 28 (1977): 67–83. ———. A Gospel for a New People: Studies in Matthew. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1992. ———. “Introduction: Matthew’s Gospel in Recent Scholarship (1994).” Pages 1–26 in The Interpretation of Matthew. 2nd ed. Edited by Graham N. Stanton. SNTI. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1995. ———. “Jewish Christian Elements in the Pseudo-Clementine Writings.” Pages 305–24 in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries. Edited by Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2007. Stark, Rodney. “Antioch as the Social Situation for Matthew’s Gospel.” Pages 189–210 in Social History of the Matthean Community: CrossDisciplinary Approaches. Edited by David L. Balch. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991. Stark, Rodney, and William Sims Bainbridge. The Future of Religion: Secularization, Revival and Cult Formation. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985. ———. A Theory of Religion. TSR. New York: Lang, 1987. Steck, Odil H. Israel und das gewaltsame Geschick der Propheten: Untersuchungen zur Überlieferung des deuteronomischen Geschichtsbildes im Alten Testament, Spätjudentum und Urchristentum. WMANT 23. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1967. Stegemann, Ekkehard W., and Wolfgang Stegemann. The Jesus Movement: A Social History of its First Century. Translated by O. C. Dean. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1999. Stegemann, Hartmut. “The Number of Psalms in 1QHodayota and Some of Their Sections.” Pages 191–234 in Liturgical Perspectives: Prayer and Poetry in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls; Proceedings of the Fifth International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, 19–23 January, 2000. Edited by Esther G. Chazon with Ruth A. Clements and Avital Pinnick. STDJ 48. Leiden: Brill, 2003. Stein, Robert H. An Introduction to the Parables of Jesus. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1981. Sterling, Gregory E. Historiography and Self Definition: Josephos, Luke-Acts and Apologetic Historiography. NovTSup 64. Leiden: Brill, 2014.



Bibliography 511

Steudel, Annette. Der Midrasch zur Eschatologie aus der Qumrangemeinde (4QMidrEschata,b): Materielle Rekonstruktion, Textbestand, Gattung und Traditionsgeschichtliche Einordnung des durch 4Q174 (“Florilegium”) und 4Q177 (“Catenaa”) repräsentierten Werkes aus den Qumranfunden. STDJ 13. Leiden: Brill, 1994. Strauss, Mark L. Mark. ZECNT. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2014. Strecker, Georg. Das Judechristentum in den Pseudoklementinen. Berlin: Akademie, 1981. ———. Der Weg der Gerechtigkeit: Untersuchung zur Theologie des Matthäus. 3rd ed. FRLANT 82. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1971. ———. Homilien. Vol. 1 of Die Pseudoklementinen. 3rd ed. Berlin: Akademie, 1992. Strugnell, John. “Notes en marge du Volume V des ‘Discoveries in the Judean Desert of Jordan.’ ” RevQ 7 (1969–1970): 163–276. Stuckenbruck, Loren T. “ ‘Apocrypha’ and ‘Pseudepigrapha.’ ” Pages 143–62 in The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism. Edited by John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010. ———. “The Legacy of the Teacher of Righteousness in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Pages 23–49 in New Perspectives on Old Texts: Proceedings of the Tenth International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, 9–11 January, 2005. Edited by Esther G. Chazon, Betsy Halpern-Amaru, and Ruth A. Clements. STDJ 88. Leiden: Brill, 2010. Swaim, Barton. “A New Take on the Apostle Paul.” Wall Street Journal, May 16, 2019. Tabor, James D., and Michael O. Wise. “4Q521 ‘On Resurrection’ and the Synoptic Gospel Tradition: A Preliminary Study.” JSP 10 (1992): 149– 62. Talgam, Rina. “Constructing Identity through Art: Jewish Art as a Minority Culture in Byzantium.” Pages 399–454 in Jews in Byzantium: Dialectics of Minority and Majority Cultures. Edited by Robert Bonfil, Oded Irshai, Guy G. Stoumsa, and Rina Talgam. JSRC 14. Leiden: Brill, 2012. Talmon, Shemaryahu. “The Calendar Reckoning of the Sect from the Judean Desert.” Pages 162–99 in Aspects of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by Chaim Rabin and Yigael Yadin. ScrHier 4. Jerusalem: Magnes, 1965. Tannehill, Robert C. Luke. ANTC. Nashville: Abingdon, 1996.

512

Bibliography

Theophilos, Michael P. The Abomination of Desolation in Matthew 24.15. LNTS 437. London: T&T Clark, 2012. Thiselton, Antony C. “Hermeneutical Circle.” Pages 281–82 in Dictionary for Theological Interpretation of the Bible. Edited by Kevin J. Vanhoozer. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005. Tigchelaar, Eibert J. C., and Florentino García Martínez. The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition. 2 vols. Leiden: Brill, 1997–1998. Tilborg, Sjef van. The Jewish Leaders in Matthew. Leiden: Brill, 1972. Tisera, Guido. Universalism according to the Gospel of Matthew. Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 1993. Tomson, Peter J., and Joshua Schwartz. Jews and Christians in the First and Second Centuries: How to Write Their History. CRINT 13. Leiden: Brill, 2014. Trevor, John C. “The Book of Daniel and the Origin of the Qumran Community.” BA 48 (1985): 89–102. ———. “The Spiritual Odyssey of the Qumran Teacher.” Pages 384–99 in Society of Biblical Literature 1986 Seminar Papers. SBLSP 25. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986. Trilling, Wolfgang. Das wahre Israel: Studien zur Theologie des MatthäusEvangeliums. 3rd rev. ed. SANT 10. Munich: Kösel-Verlag, 1964. ———. “Der Einzug in Jerusalem: Mt 21,1–17.” Pages 303–9 in Neutestamentliche Aufsätze. Edited by Josef Blinzler, Otto Kuss, and Franz Mußner. Regensburg: Pustet, 1963. Tromp, Johannes. The Assumption of Moses: A Critical Edition with Commentary. SVTP 10. Leiden: Brill, 1992. ———. “ ‘Can These Bones Live?’ Ezekiel 37:1–14 and Eschatological Resurrection.” Pages 61–78 in The Book of Ezekiel and Its Influence. Edited by Henk Jan de Jonge and Johannes Tromp. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007. Troxel, Ronald L. “Matt 27.51–4 Reconsidered: Its Role in the Passion Narrative, Meaning and Origin.” NTS 48 (2002): 30–47. Tuckett, Christopher M. Q and the History of Early Christianity: Studies on Q. Edinburgh: T&T Clark; Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996. Turner, David L. Israel’s Last Prophet: Jesus and the Jewish Leaders in Matthew 23. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015. ———. Matthew. BECNT. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2008. Twelftree, Graham H. “Jesus and the Synagogue.” Pages 3105–34 in vol. 4 of Handbook for the Study of the Historical Jesus. Edited by Tom Holmén and Stanley E. Porter. Leiden: Brill, 2011.



Bibliography 513

Tyson, Joseph B. “The Birth of Narratives and the Beginning of Luke’s Gospel.” Semeia 52 (1991): 103–20. Ulrich, Eugene. “Daniel, Book of.” EDSS 1:170–74. ———. “Daniel Manuscripts from Qumran. Part 1: A Preliminary Edition of 4QDana.” BASOR 268 (1987): 17–37. ———. “Daniel Manuscripts from Qumran. Part 2: Preliminary Editions of 4QDanb and 4QDanc.” BASOR 274 (1989): 3–26. ———, ed. Qumran Cave 4: Psalms to Chronicles. DJD 16. Oxford: Clarendon, 2000. ———. “The Text of Daniel in the Qumran Scrolls.” Pages 573–85 in vol. 2 of The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception. Edited by John J. Collins and Peter W. Flint. VTSup 133. FIOTL 2. Leiden: Brill, 2001. United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. “Antisemitism: The Longest Hatred.” https://tinyurl.com/SBL4527b. Uro, Risto. Sheep among Wolves: A Study of the Mission Instructions of Q. Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1987. Vaage, Leif E. Galilean Upstarts: Jesus’ First Followers according to Q. Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1994. Van Voorst, Robert E. The Ascents of James: History and Theology of a Jewish-Christian Community. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988. VanderKam, James C. Dead Sea Scrolls Today. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1994. Varkey, Mothy. Salvation in Continuity: A Reconsideration of Matthean Soteriology. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2017. Verheyden, Joseph. “The Killing of the Prophets in Q and the Deuteronomistic Tradition.” Paper presented at the Society of Biblical Literature Annual Meeting, Toronto, 2002. Vermes, Geza. “The Qumran Interpretation of Scripture in Its Historical Setting.” ALUOS 6 (1969): 85–97. ———. The Religion of Jesus the Jew. London: SCM, 1993. Verseput, Donald J. “The Davidic Messiah and Matthew’s Jewish Christianity.” Pages 102–16 in Society of Biblical Literature 1995 Seminar Papers. SBLSP 34. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995. Vetne, Reimar. “The Influence and Use of Daniel in the Synoptic Gospels.” PhD diss. Andrews University, 2011. Via, Dan O. The Parables: Their Literary and Existential Dimension. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1967. Viviano, Benedict T. “The Sermon on the Mount in Recent Study.” Bib 78 (1997): 255–65.

514

Bibliography

Walker, Rolf. Die Heilsgeschichte im ersten Evangelium. FRLANT 91. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1967. Wallace, Daniel B. Greek Grammar beyond the Basics. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996. Waltke, Bruce K., and Michael O’Connor. Biblical Hebrew Syntax. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990. Washburn, David L. A Catalog of Biblical Passages in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2002. Wassén, Cecilia. “Jesus’ Table Fellowship with ‘Toll Collectors and Sinners’: Questioning the Alleged Purity Implications.” JSHJ 14 (2016): 137–57. Waters, Kenneth L. “Matthew 27:52–53 as Apocalyptic Apostrophe: Temporal-Spatial Collapse in the Gospel of Matthew.” JBL 122 (2003): 489–515. Watts, James W. “The Political and Legal Uses of Scripture.” Pages 345–64 in From the Beginnings to 600. Vol. 1 of The New Cambridge History of the Bible. Edited by James Carleton Paget and Joachim Schaper. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. Watts, Rikki E. Isaiah’s New Exodus in Mark. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2000. Weaver, Dorothy J. Matthew’s Missionary Discourse: A Literary Critical Analysis. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1990. ———. “Power and Powerlessness: Matthew’s Use of Irony in the Portrayal of Political Leaders.” Pages 454–66 in Society of Biblical Literature 1992 Seminar Papers. SBLSP 31. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992. Webb, Robert L. John the Baptizer and Prophet: A Socio-historical Study. JSNTSup 62. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991. Wehnert, Jürgen. Die Reinheit des “christlichen Gottesvolkes” aus Juden und Heiden. Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1997. Weinfeld, Moshe. Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School. Oxford: Clarendon, 1972. Wellhausen, Julius. Das Evangelium Matthaei. Berlin: Reimer, 1904. ———. Einleitung in die drei ersten Evangelien. 2nd ed. Berlin: Reimer, 1911. Wenham, David. “The Kingdom of God and Daniel.” ExpTim 98 (1987): 132–34. ———. “The Resurrection Narratives in Matthew’s Gospel.” TynBul 24 (1973): 21–54. Wenham, John W. “When Were the Saints Raised? A Note on the Punctuation in Matthew xxvii. 51–3.” JTS 32 (1981): 150–52.



Bibliography 515

Weren, Wim J. C. “Human Body and Life beyond Death in Matthew’s Gospel.” Pages 267–83 in The Human Body in Death and Resurrection. Edited by Tobias Nicklas, Friedrich V. Reiterer, and Joseph Verheyden. DCLS 2009. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2009. ———. “Jesus’ Entry into Jerusalem: Mt 21,1–17 in the Light of the Hebrew Bible and the Septuagint.” Pages 117–41 in The Scriptures in the Gospels. Edited by Christopher M. Tuckett. BETL 131. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1997. Werman, Cana. “Epochs and End-Time: The 490-Year Scheme in Second Temple Literature.” DSD 13 (2006): 229–55. Werrett, Ian C. Ritual Purity and the Dead Sea Scrolls. STDJ 72. Leiden: Brill, 2007. Wheeler-Reed, David, Jennifer W. Knust, and Dale B. Martin. “Can a Man Commit πορνεία with His Wife?” JBL 137 (2018): 383–98. White, Benjamin L. “The Eschatological Conversion of ‘All the Nations’ in Matthew 28.19–20: (Mis)Reading Matthew through Paul.” JSNT 36 (2014): 353–82. Willitts, Joel. Matthew’s Messianic Shepherd-King: In Search of “the Lost Sheep of the House of Israel.” BZNW 147. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007. ———. “Zionism in the Gospel of Matthew: Do the People of Israel and the Land of Israel Persist as Abiding Concerns for Matthew?” Pages 107–40 in The New Christian Zionism: Fresh Perspectives on Israel and the Land. Edited by Gerald R. McDermott. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2016. Wilson, Stephen G. Related Strangers: Jews and Christians, 70–170 C.E. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995. Winandy, Jacques. “La scène du jugement dernier.” SE 18 (1966): 169–86. Winston, David. The Wisdom of Solomon: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. AB 43. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1979. Winter, Paul. On the Trial of Jesus. 2nd ed. Revised and edited by T. Alec Burkill and Geza Vermes. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1974. Wischnitzer-Bernstein, Rachel. “The Conception of the Resurrection in the Ezekiel Panel of the Dura Synagogue.” JBL 60 (1941): 43–55. Wise, Michael, Martin Abegg Jr., and Edward Cook. The Dead Sea Scrolls: A New Translation. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1996. Witherington, Ben, III. The Jesus Quest: The Third Search for the Jew of Nazareth. 2nd ed. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1997. ———. “Matthew 5.32 and 19.9—Exception or Exceptional Situation.” NTS 31 (1985): 571–76.

516

Bibliography

Witherup, Ronald D. “The Death of Jesus and the Raising of the Saints: Matthew 27:51–54 in Context.” Pages 574–85 in Society of Biblical Literature 1987 Seminar Papers. SBLSP 26. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987. Wolff, Hans W. “Das Kerygma des deuteronomischen Geschichtswerk.” ZAW 73 (1961): 171–86. ———. “The Kerygma of the Deuteronomistic Historical Work.” Pages 83–100 in The Vitality of Old Testament Traditions. Atlanta: John Knox, 1975. Woude, Adam S. van der. “Wicked Priest or Wicked Priests? Reflections on the Identification of the Wicked Priest in the Habakkuk Commentary.” JJS 23 (1982): 349–59. Wright, N. T. The Challenge of Jesus: Rediscovering Who Jesus Was and Is. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2015. ———. Jesus and the Victory of God. London: SPCK; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996. ———. The Resurrection of the Son of God. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003. Yadin, Yigael, Jonas C. Greenfield, Ada Yardeni, and Baruch A. Levine, eds. The Documents from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters: Hebrew, Aramaic and Nabatean-Aramaic Papyri. JDS. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, Institute of Archaeology, Hebrew University and Shrine of the Book, Israel Museum, 2002. Yarbro Collins, Adela. “The Influence of Daniel on the NT.” Pages 90–123 in Daniel. By John J. Collins. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993. Zahavy, Tzvee, trans. Berakhot. CSHJ. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989. Zauzmer, Julie. “The Alleged Synagogue Shooter Was a Churchgoer Who Talked Christian Theology, Raising Tough Questions for Evangelical Pastors,” Washington Post, May 1, 2019. Zeichmann, Christopher B. “Loanwords or Code-Switching? Latin Transliteration and the Setting of Mark’s Composition.” JJMJS 4 (2017): 42–62. Zellentin, Holger M. “Jesus and the Tradition of the Elders: Originalism and Traditionalim in Early Judean Legal Theory.” Pages 379–403 in Beyond the Gnostic Gospels: Studies Building on the Work of Elaine Pagels. Edited by Eduard Iricinschi, Lance Jenott, Nicola D. Lewis, and Philippa Townsend. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. ———. “Judaeo-Christian Legal Culture and the Qur’an: The Case of Ritual Slaughter and the Consumption of Animal Blood.” Pages 117–59 in



Bibliography 517

Jewish-Christianity and the Origins of Islam. Edited by Francisco del Río Sánchez. Turnhout: Brepols, 2018. ———. The Qur’an’s Legal Culture: The Didascalia Apostolorum as a Point of Departure. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. ———. Rabbinic Parodies of Jewish and Christian Lierature. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011. Zetterholm, Karin Hedner. Jewish Interpretation of the Bible: Ancient and Contemporary. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012. Zetterholm, Magnus. “The Didache, Matthew, James—and Paul: Reconstructing Historical Developments in Antioch.” Pages 73–90 in Matthew, James, and Didache: Three Related Documents in Their Jewish and Christian Settings. Edited by Huub van de Sandt and Jürgen K. Zangenberg. SymS 45. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2008. Zimmerli, Walther. Ezekiel: A Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel. 2 vols. Translated by Ronald E. Clements and James D. Martin. Edited by Frank Moore Cross, Klaus Baltzer, and Paul D. Hanson. Hermeneia. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979–1983.

Contributors

Wayne Baxter (PhD, McMaster University, Hamilton, Ontario) is Associate Professor of New Testament and Greek at Heritage College and Seminary in Cambridge, Ontario, Canada. He specializes in early Christianity, focusing on the Gospel of Matthew. His publications include Israel’s Only Shepherd: Matthew’s Shepherd Motif and His Social Setting (T&T Clark, 2012); “Matthew, Mark, and the Shepherd Metaphor: Similarities, Differences, and Implications,” in Mark and Matthew, Texts and Contexts I: Understanding the First Gospels in Their First Century Settings, ed. E.-M. Becker and A. Runesson (Mohr Siebeck, 2011); as well as a forthcoming monograph, Shepherd Christology in the Gospel of Matthew (Fortress). Akiva Cohen (PhD, Tel Aviv University, Israel) is an independent scholar who specializes in the intersection of the Gospel of Matthew and ancient Judaism. His principal publication is Matthew and the Mishnah: Redefining Identity and Ethos in the Shadow of the Second Temple’s Destruction (Mohr Siebeck, 2016). James G. Crossley (PhD, University of Nottingham) is Professor of Bible, Society and Politics at Saint Mary’s University Twickenham, having previously taught at the University of Sheffield as Professor of Bible, Culture and Politics. His research interests include Christian origins and Judaism in the first century and modern political receptions of the Bible. Among his publications are Jesus and the Chaos of History: Redirecting the Life of the Historical Jesus (Oxford University Press, 2015); The New Testament and Jewish Law: A Guide for the Perplexed (T&T Clark, 2010); and The Date of Mark’s Gospel: Insight from the Law in Earliest Christianity (T&T Clark, 2004). Terence L. Donaldson (ThD, Wycliffe College and the University of Toronto) is the Lord and Lady Coggan Professor Emeritus of New Testa-519-

520

Contributors

ment Studies at Wycliffe College, Toronto. His research interests include Matthew, Paul, Second Temple Judaism, the parting of the ways, and, in all of these areas, gentiles as a social category. His publications include Jesus on the Mountain: A Study in Matthew’s Theology (JSOT Press, 1985); Paul and the Gentiles (Fortress, 1997); Judaism and the Gentiles: Jewish Patterns of Universalism (to 135 CE) (Baylor University Press, 2007); Jews and Anti-Judaism in the New Testament (SPCK; Baylor University Press, 2010); Gentile Christian Identity from Cornelius to Constantine: The Nations, the Parting of the Ways, and Roman Imperial Ideology (Eerdmans, forthcoming); and five journal articles or chapters on Matthew’s Gospel. Philip F. Esler (DPhil, Oxford University) holds the Portland Chair in New Testament Studies in the University of Gloucestershire, Cheltenham, UK. Since 2013, within a larger research output, he has published several articles and essays focusing on the dominant group identities in Matthew’s Gospel—those of ethnic Judean and Christ-follower—and on the nature of the boundaries between them, within the Matthean vision of salvation, such as “Judean Ethnic Identity and the Matthean Jesus,” in Jesus—Gestalt und Gestaltungen: Rezeptionen des Galiläers in Wissenschaft, Kirche und Gesellschaft; Festschrift für Gerd Theisseni, ed. Petra von Gemünden, David G. Horrell, and Max Küchler (Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013), and “Intergroup Conflict and Matthew 23: Towards Responsible Historical Interpretation of a Challenging Text” (BTB 2015). He also researches ancient Judean legal papyri from the Dead Sea region (see Babatha’s Orchard: The Yadin Papyri and An Ancient Jewish Family Tale Retold [Oxford University Press, 2017] and “Female Agency by the Dead Sea: Evidence from the Babatha and Salome Komaïse Archives,” DSD 2019). The results, important in themselves, also provide a fresh way to contextualize Matthew’s Gospel close to its time of composition (see “Reading Matthew by the Dead Sea: Matthew 8:5–13 in Light of P. Yadin 11,” HvTSt 2014). Nathan Eubank (PhD, Duke University) is Associate Professor of New Testament at the University of Notre Dame. His research interests include Synoptic Gospels, the letters of Paul, and the reception of New Testament texts in antiquity. He is author of several articles on the Gospel of Matthew as well as a monograph, Wages of Cross-Bearing and Debt of Sin: The Economy of Heaven in Matthew’s Gospel (de Gruyter, 2013). He is currently working on merit in early Christianity and its role in the construction of Christian origins.



Contributors 521

Daniel M. Gurtner (PhD, University of Saint Andrews, Scotland) has published variously in Septuagint studies (Exodus: A Commentary on the Greek Text of Codex Vaticanus [Brill, 2013]) and Second Temple Judaism, notably Second Baruch: A Critical Edition of the Syriac Text (T&T Clark, 2009) and the award-winning T&T Clark Encyclopedia of Second Temple Judaism edited with Loren T. Stuckenbruck (2 vols., T&T Clark, 2020). His primary research interests lie in the gospels and their interface with the Hebrew Bible and Second Temple Judaism, as in his published dissertation, The Torn Veil: Matthew’s Exposition of the Death of Jesus (Cambridge University Press, 2007). He is currently writing the Word Biblical Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew. John Kampen is Distinguished Research Professor at the Methodist Theological School in Ohio, specializing in the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Gospel of Matthew, and Jewish history of the Greco-Roman period. He earned his PhD from Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati, which awarded him its Founders Medallion for his academic achievements. His most recent book is Matthew within Sectarian Judaism (Yale University Press, 2019). He also is the author of Wisdom Literature, a commentary on the wisdom texts of the Dead Sea Scrolls, with four additional books to his credit. He is the author of numerous research articles as well as a contributor to many encyclopedias, Bible dictionaries, and handbooks. He has twice been appointed a National Endowment of the Humanities Fellow at the Albright Institute of Archaeological Research in Jerusalem and held other research appointments at that institution. He served for five years as cochair of the Qumran section of the Society of Biblical Literature. Matthias Konradt (PhD, Ruprecht-Karls-University of Heidelberg) is Professor of New Testament at the Ruprecht-Karls-Uni­versity of Heidelberg. His dissertation was on the Epistle of James, published as Christliche Existenz nach dem Jakobusbrief: Eine Studie zu seiner soteriologischen und ethi­schen Konzeption (Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1998). He pursued his postdoctoral research at the University of Bonn on judgment in Paul, which was subsequently published as Gericht und Gemeinde: Eine Studie zur Bedeutung und Funktion von Gerichtsaussagen im Rahmen der paulinischen Ekklesiologie und Ethik im 1Thess und 1Kor (de Gruyter, 2003). He was Professor of New Testament at the University of Bern (Switzerland) from 2003 to 2009. His main areas of specialization are the Gospel of Matthew, Paul, New Testament ethics, and the Jewish background of emerging

522

Contributors

Christianity. His numerous publications on Matthew include Israel, Kirche und die Völker im Matthäusevangelium (Mohr Siebeck, 2007; English: Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew [Baylor University Press, 2014]) and Das Evangelium nach Matthäus (Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2015). Amy-Jill Levine (PhD, Duke University) is University Professor of New Testament and Jewish Studies and Mary Jane Werthan Professor of Jewish Studies at Vanderbilt Divinity School and Program in Jewish Studies. Her thirty books include The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus (HarperCollins, 2006); Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi (HarperCollins, 2014); four children’s books (with Sandy Sasso); The Gospel of Luke, with Ben Witherington III (Cambridge University Press, 2018); and The Jewish Annotated New Testament, coedited with Marc Z. Brettler (Oxford University Press, 2011). In 2019 she became the first Jew to teach New Testament at Rome’s Pontifical Biblical Institute. Lidija Novakovic (PhD, Princeton Theological Seminary) is Associate Professor of New Testament in the Department of Religion at Baylor University. Her research is focused on the Gospel of Matthew, the Gospel of John, and resurrection belief in Judaism and Christianity. Her publications include Messiah, the Healer of the Sick: A Study of Jesus as the Son of David in the Gospel of Matthew (Mohr Siebeck, 2003); Raised from the Dead according to Scripture: The Role of Israel’s Scripture in the Early Christian Interpretations of Jesus’ Resurrection (Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2012); Resurrection: A Guide for the Perplexed (T&T Clark, 2016); John 1–10 and John 11–21: A Handbook on the Greek Text (Baylor University Press, 2020); and various articles on Matthew’s use of scripture, Matthew’s messianization of Mark, and Matthew’s understanding of torah observance. Anders Runesson (PhD, Lund University, Sweden) is Professor of New Testament at the University of Oslo, Norway. He has published widely on issues relating to ancient Jewish and Christian interaction, as well as on ancient institutions in which such interaction took place, including awardwinning Divine Wrath and Salvation in Matthew: The Narrative World of the First Gospel (Fortress, 2013); The Origins of the Synagogue: A Sociohistorical Study (Almvist & Wiksell International, 2001); and Judaism for Gentiles: Reading Paul beyond the Parting of the Ways Paradigm (Mohr



Contributors 523

Siebeck, forthcoming). He is the coeditor, with Eve-Marie Becker, of Mark and Matthew: Comparative Readings (2 vols., Mohr Siebeck, 2011, 2013); and, with Dieter Mitternacht, of Jesus, the New Testament, and Christian Origins: Perspectives, Methods, Meanings (Eerdmans, forthcoming). He is currently writing the commentary on Matthew’s Gospel in the Oxford Bible Commentary Series. Jordan Ryan (PhD, McMaster University, Hamilton, Ontario) is Assistant Professor of New Testament at Wheaton College. His research interests include the study of ancient synagogues and situating Jesus and the gospels within their Jewish context, notably his monograph, The Role of the Synagogue in the Aims of Jesus (Fortress, 2017). Much of his current work involves the archaeology of Galilee and Judea in the Hellenistic, Roman, and Byzantine periods, and he is currently a staff member of the Tel Shimron excavations, and he has also been a member (both as a researcher and as a volunteer) of the Magdala excavations. David C. Sim (PhD, King’s College, London) is Professor of Biblical and Early Christian Studies and Associate Dean Research in the Faculty of Theology and Philosophy at Australian Catholic University. A student of the eminent Graham Stanton, Sim himself has long been a significant voice in Matthean scholarship. In addition to numerous articles and essays, Sim has authored two major monographs on Matthew: Apocalyptic Eschatology in the Gospel of Matthew (Cambridge University Press, 1996) and The Gospel of Mathew and Christian Judaism: The History and Social Setting of the Matthean Community (T&T Clark, 1998). Loren T. Stuckenbruck (PhD, Princeton Theological Seminary) is Chair of New Testament (with emphasis on Second Temple Judaism) at the Ludwig Maximilian University of Munich, having previously taught at the Christian Albrecht University of Kiel (1992–1994), Durham University (1994–2009), and Princeton Theological Seminary (2009–2012). His research has focused on the textual, tradition-historical, and theological study of Second Temple writings, including much of the New Testament. Among his numerous publications are 1 Enoch 91–108 (de Gruyter, 2007); The Book of Giants from Qumran: Texts, Translation, and Commentary (Mohr Siebeck, 1997); and Angel Veneration and Christology: A Study in Early Judaism and the Christology of the Apocalypse of John (Mohr Siebeck, 1995).

524

Contributors

David L. Turner (PhD, Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, Cincinnati) is Professor of New Testament (Emeritus) at Grand Rapids Theological Seminary. His research interests include the gospels and the Jewish setting of the New Testament. Among his publications are Matthew in the Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament series (Baker, 2008); Israel’s Last Prophet: Jesus and the Jewish Leaders in Matthew 23 (Fortress, 2015), and Interpreting the Gospels and Acts (Kregel, 2019). Cecilia Wassén (PhD, McMaster University, Hamilton, Ontario) is Associate Professor at the Department of Theology at Uppsala University. Her research focuses on the Dead Sea Scrolls, ancient meals in early Jewish associations, purity, and the historical Jesus. Together with Tobias Hägerland she has authored Jesus the Apocalyptic Prophet, which is forthcoming with T&T Clark/Bloomsbury. She has written numerous articles on Jesus focusing on Jewish laws and norms, for example, “Jesus’ Table Fellowship with ‘Toll Collectors and Sinners’: Questioning the Alleged Purity Implications” (JSHJ 2016); “The Use of the Dead Sea Scrolls for Interpreting Jesus’s Action in the Temple” (DSD 2016); “The Jewishness of Jesus and Ritual Purity” (Scripta Instituti Donneriani Aboensis, 2016); “Jesus’ Work as a Healer in Light of Jewish Purity Laws” (in Bridging between Sister Religions: Studies of Jewish and Christian Scriptures in Honor of John Townsend, ed. Isaac Kalimi [Brill, 2016]). She is the editor of a forthcoming volume on the Dead Sea Scrolls for the series Ancient Literature for New Testament Studies, with Zondervan Academic. Karin Hedner Zetterholm (PhD, Lund University, Sweden) is Associate Professor of Jewish Studies at Lund University, Sweden. Her research focuses on early Jewish biblical interpretation (notably Jewish Interpretation of the Bible: Ancient and Contemporary [Fortress, 2012]), interaction between Jews and Christians in antiquity, and Jesus orientation as a phenomenon within Judaism. Recent publications include “Jewish Teachings for Gentiles in the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies: A Reception of Ideas in Paul and Acts Shaped by a Jewish Milieu?” (Journal of the Jesus Movement in Its Jewish Setting 2019), “ ‘Jewishly’-Behaving Gentiles and the Emergence of a Jewish Rabbinic Identity” (JSQ 2018), “Isaac and Jesus: A Rabbinic Re-appropriation of a ‘Christian” Motif? (JJS 2016), and “JesusOriented Visions of Judaism in Antiquity” (Scripta Instituti Donneriani Aboensis 2016).

Ancient Sources Index

Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Genesis 1 354–55 2:6 140 2:7 355 2:19 355 6:2 166 9:5–6 67 9:6 37 12:1–3 13,6 168 17, 124–26, 135, 140, 158, 12:3 166–67 14:18–20 315 15 312 18:18 135 22:18 135 23:3–4 49 26:3 165 26:4 135 26:24 165 26:28 165 27:1 140 28:12 140 28:14 135 28:15 165 28:17 140 29:31–35 50 31:3 165 38:24 34, 320 41:40 139 46:32 249 48:31 165 49:10 419

Exodus 3:1 249 3:6 338–41 3:12 165 4:20 140 7:2 166 10:25 76 11:15 139 12:3 175 12:12–13 130 12:16 176 12:29 139 12:31–22 323 12:43 176 15:17 140 15:17–18 267 16:29 41 17 312 17:16 140 18:1 122 19–20 64 20:7 36 20:8–11 39 33, 67 20:13 20:14 33, 67 21:22–27 37 21:23–25 67 21:24 36–38 22:30 140 23:20 235 23:22 166 24:1–11 306 24:1–18 129 24:4–8 148 24:8 305

-525-

526

Ancient Sources Index

Exodus (cont.) 24:10 140 25:22 165–66 29:35 166 30:23 246 30:34–38 246 31:11 166 31:12–17 41 31:18 140 33:14 165 34:11 166 34:21 39 34:32 166 35:2 39, 41 35:29 76 40:16 166 40:35–38 323 Leviticus 1:3 76 2 246 5:1–13 286 5:3 81 5:4–6 36 11 285, 288, 300 11:2 300 11:3 44 11:8 288 11:24–26 288 11:29–35 302 11:32–33 48 11:33 301 11:39 288 11:39–40 288 12–15 286 12:2 356 12:8 290 13 264, 312 13–14 44, 81 13:19 290 13:20 81 15 289 15:12 44, 48, 301 15:18 285, 414 15:19–24 289

15:24 289 16 273, 290, 305–6, 460 16:16 290 16:26 306 17 414 17–18 410, 414 17–26 286 17:11 290 18 34 18–20 286 18:19 289 18:20 35 18:24–30 286 18:28 291 286, 289 18:29 19:15 152 19:18 31, 67 19:31 286 19:32 285 20:1–3 285–86 20:9 228 20:11 228 20:12 228 20:13 228 20:14 320 20:16 228 20:18 289 20:27 228 21:9 320 21:18 98 24:7 246 24:8–9 40 24:15 246 24:16 61 25:13 315 27:30 43, 113 Numbers 5:13–14 35 8 312 9:15 76 11:16–25 424 11:26 140 12:9–15 290 15:32–36 41



Ancient Sources Index 527 15:38 75 15:38–39 31 18:12 43 19:15 301 19:18 301 28:9–10 40 29:39 76 30 36 30:1 166 35:33–34 286

Deuteronomy 1:3 166 1:16–17 152 2:7 165 5:11 36 5:12–15 39 5:17 33 5:18 33 7:2 38 11:10 140 12:11 166 12:14 166 14:23 43 15:2 315 16:18 152 17:18 139 18 168 18:13 458 18:15–18 404 18:15–19 416 18:18 166 19:21 67 20:16 38 21:15–17 50 22:12 31, 75 23:4 38 23:12–14 292, 299 23:21 36 23:22 36 23:23 67 24:1 34 24:1–4 34–35 24:4 35 24:10–14 67

25:11–12 37 28 146 28:26 50 29 312 30:2 140, 166 30:7 38 30:15–20 146 31:6 165 31:8 165 31:23 165 32:7 423–24 33 314 33:26 140 34:5–6 342 Joshua 1:1–9 146 1:5 165 1:7 166 1:9 165 1:16–17 166 1:16–18 146 1:17 165 2 156 2:9–13 159 2:19 228 3:7 165 7:12 165 22:2 166 Judges 2:16 244 3:10 152, 203 4:4 203 4:4–5 152 6:12 165 6:16 165 10:2 203 10:3 203 11:29–40 36 12:7 203 12:8 203 12:9 203 12:11 203 12:13 203

528

Ancient Sources Index

Judges (cont.) 12:14 203 13:14 166 15:20 203 16:31 203 Ruth 1:1 152 1 Samuel 2:1–4 139 2:8 139–40 10:7 165 17:37 165 21 40 2 Samuel 1:16 228 3:10 139 3:18 245 3:28–29 228 5: 248 5:2 248 5:6 98 7 141, 314 7:3 165 7:8–16 135 7:9 165 7:10–14 267 7:12–14 244 7:12–16 139, 366 7:13 92 7:13–14 90 8:14 219 14:19 165 23:7 140 1 Kings 2:1–4 139 2:3 166 2:23–24 36 2:33 228 2:37 228 3:9 [3 Kgdms] 152 4:34 135

8:10–11 76 8:24–26 135 8:25 139 8:48 143 8:64 76 9:3–9 139 9:4–5 135 10:9 139 11:12–13 135 11:14–15 219 11:32–39 135 11:38 165–66 15:3–5 135 19:34 135 2 Kings 2:11 342 5:17–19 159 14:10 219 15:5 [4 Kgdms] 152 18:12 166 21:8 166 23:27 76 1 Chronicles 6:39 166 9:32 40 14:17 135 17:2 165 17:5 76 17:7–15 135 17:8 165 17:11–14 139 22:5 135 22:10 135 22:11 165 22:13 166 22:18 165 23–24 383 28:5 139 28:20 165 29:23 139 2 Chronicles 1:8–10 135



Ancient Sources Index 529 1:10 152 6:4 135 6:16 139 6:16–17 135 6:38 143 6:42 135 7:1 76 7:17–18 135 9:8 139 13:5 135 13:8 139 15:2 165 19:2 38 20 76 31:14 76 32:23 135 33:9 181 36:11–21 139 36:15–17 97 36:22–23 318 36:23 89

Ezra 3:2–3 76 7:15 76 Nehemiah 12:43 76 13 39 Esther 14:17 197 Job 10:9 302 14:12 322 Psalms 1 314 1:1 267 2 234, 314 2:1 267, 315 2:7 244, 366 2:10 152 4:16 138

5 314 7:8–9 316 8:1 138 8:2 384 9:4 139 9:7 139 11:4 139 12:2 138 18:50 135 22:27 157, 204 26:5 38 31:12 302 37:14–15 263 37:32 271 37:32–33 272 45:6–7 138–39 45:7 140 45:17 135 47:8 139 47:8–9 135, 167 48 143 48:1–4 90 48:2 119, 145 51 295 51:4–9 289 57:2 152 64:6 289 68:5 140 71:2 152 71:4 152 72:11 135 72:17 135 73:13 289 74:7 76 77:52 249 78:57 374 78:70–72 249 82:1 316 82:2 316 85:9 157 86:9 135, 157, 204 89:3–4 135, 139 89:8 140 89:14 139 89:15 140

530

Ancient Sources Index

Psalms (cont.) 89:23 267 89:24–37 135 89:29–37 139 96:3–8 135 97:2 139 102:15 135 102:22 135 103:19 139 110:1 138 110:4 315 116:1 157 117:1 135 117:25–26 222 118:22 93 118:22–23 144 118:26 100 122:5 139 123:1 140 132:10–18 135 132:11–12 139 135:21 77 137:7–9 38 138:2 143 139:19–22 38 148:11 135 Proverbs 16:12 139 18:22 35 19:17 155 20:8 139 20:28 139 25:4 47 25:5 139 29:14 139 31:8–9 152 Ecclesiastes 5:1 140 12:14 160 Song of Songs 1:11 140

Isaiah 1:10–17 31, 83 1:12 152 1:15 373 1:15–17 289, 303 1:16–17 303 1:23 152 2 97 2:2:2–4 135 2:2–3 72, 180 2:2–4 204 6:1 139 6:1–3 140 6:6 140 7:11 461 7:12 461 7:13 461 7:14 461 7:17 461 8:11 267, 315 9:7 17, 135, 139, 167 10:33–34 176 11:1–5 141 11:10 97, 204 16:5 135, 139 18:7 204 22:23 139–40 25:6 204 26:19 322 29:16 302 34:5–6 219 37:35 135 40:3 235, 319 41:10 165 42:1 97 42:4 190 42:6 97 43:5 165 45:1 89 165, 204 45:14 45:23 160 47:1 140 49:6 97 49:23 204 52:2 140



Ancient Sources Index 531 52:7 316 52:9–10 135 53:7 90 53:10–12 148 54:3 204 55:3 135 55:5 97 56:1–8 192 56:6–8 183 56:7 97–98, 157, 171, 182–83, 185–86 58 83 60 97 60:3 157 60:5 157, 204 60:7 157 60:10 204 60:11 204 60:12 204 61:1 316, 326 61:6–9 135 62:1–2 135 62:10–11 135 62:11 222 63:12–14 249 64:8 302 65:17 150 66 97 66:1 137–38, 140 66:3 83 66:14 326 66:18 157 66:18–20 135 66:22 150 66:23 204

Jeremiah [LXX in brackets] 1:7 166 1:8 165 1:17 166 1:19 165 3:9 34 3:15–17 139 3:17 17, 135, 167 5:28 152 6:20 31

7:21–28 31 7:33 50 11:4 166 13:13–14 139 13:27 34 14:21 139, 140 15:20 165 17:12 139, 140 17:19–27 39 17:21–22 39 17:24–25 139 18:2–3 390 19:10–11 390 19:11 302 22:2–5 139 22:19 50 22:29–30 139 23:1–6 218 23:4–6 218 23:5 135 25:1 145 25:1–38 145 25:3 145 25:11–12 318 25:18 145 25:29 145 26:15 [33:15] 228 185 27:3 [34:2] 27:4 [34:3] 185 27:10 [34:8] 184 27:15 [34:12] 184 27:19 [34:16] 184 28:11 [35:11] 182–83 28:11–14 [35:11–14] 157, 184–85 28:14 [35:14] 182–83 29:10 318, 320 29:15–19 139 30:9 135 30:11 165 31:1–37 72 31:15 461 31:17 461 31:33 72 31:57 322 32 234

532

Ancient Sources Index

Jeremiah (cont.) 32:6–15 390 33:9 135 33:14–18 139 33:14–26 135 36:30 139 42:11 165 46:28 165 51:35 [28:35] 228 51:39 322 Lamentations 1:9 289 1:17 289 4:21 219 5:19 140 Ezekiel 1:26–28 140 4:12–15 292, 299 8:16 77 9:6 158 10–11 96, 128 11:23 96 18:6 289 18:13 228 20:33–38 65 20:40–44 72 22 302 24:13 289 25:12–14 219 29:5 50 34 120, 218 34:23 218, 249 34:23–24 135 36:16–18 289 36:17–18 289 36:25 289 37 326, 350, 356 37:1–4 353 37:1–6 352 37:1–10 352, 357 37:1–14 352–53, 357, 359, 368 37:4–10 326 37:7 357

37:7–9 352 37:7–10 357 37:8 355–56 37:10 352 37:11–13 352 37:11–14 352 37:12 352 37:12–13 357 37:23 315 37:24–25 135 39:21 203 39:21–24 136 40–47 86 40–48 64 40:1–48:35 72 40:34 76 43:2–4 76 44:10 267 44:15 319 44:24 152 47:1–48:29 64 48:31–34 150 Daniel 1 320 1–5 312 1:1 143 1:3–17 197 1:9 143 1:10–17 311 1:16–20 311 1:17 143 2 144 2–4 319 2–7 320 2:1–49 310 2:2–6 311 2:9–11 311 2:17–23 143 2:18 311, 318 2:19–49 311 2:27 311, 318 2:28 143 2:28–29 142 2:29 311, 318



Ancient Sources Index 533 2:31–35 144 2:34–35 142 2:37 143 2:44 143–44 2:44–45 142 2:44–47 143 2:47 311, 318 3 319 3:1–2 311 3:1–7 185 3:2 182–83 3:5 323 3:5–6 142 3:6 142, 320, 325 157, 182–83 3:7 3:10 142, 323 142, 323 3:15 3:17 143 3:22–30 311 3:23–25 311 3:28–29 143 4 309–10 4:2–3 143 4:3 314 4:5–9 311 4:6 311, 318 142, 324 4:12 4:12–16 311 4:13 144 4:21 142, 324 4:24 310 4:25 143 4:25–26 144 4:29–30 311 4:31 314 4:32–37 143 4:34–35 144 4:37 182–83, 185 5 309–10, 320 5:3–4 143 5:5–7 311 5:10–12 311 5:12–14 311 5:14–16 311 5:16–19 311

5:19–22 311 5:20 139 5:21 144 5:21–23 143 5:22–23 143 6–12 319 6:5 143 6:8–22 311 6:10 143 6:16 143 6:18 142 6:20–22 143 6:23 310 6:26 144, 182–83, 185 6:26–27 143 6:27 185 6:27–29 311 7 144, 167–68, 319, 323 7–8 312 7:1 142 7:1–6 311 7:1–8 144 7:5–7 311 7:7 314 7:8 144 7:9 142, 150, 322 7:9–10 142, 144, 157, 310 7:9–14 323 7:11 311 7:11–12 144 7:13 144, 309, 319, 322, 325 7:13–14 143–44, 157, 165 7:13–27 388 7:14 155, 183, 314, 323, 325 7:15–23 311 7:17 138 7:18 144, 155, 157 7:21 144 7:21–22 144 7:22 155, 157, 165 7:25 144 7:25–27 165 7:25–28 311 7:26–28 311 7:27 138, 144, 155, 157, 314

534

Ancient Sources Index

Daniel (cont.) 8:1 142, 311 8:1–5 311 8:1–8 311 8:11 321 8:13 144 8:13–16 311 8:16–17 311 8:17 142, 324 8:20–21 311 9 145, 319 9–12 388 9:2 145, 318 9:3 142 9:4–19 145 9:6 145 9:7 145, 310 9:12 145, 152 9:12–17 311 9:16 310 9:16–18 145 9:21 143 9:22–23 143 9:24 142, 323 9:24–25 311 9:24–27 145, 318 9:26 316 9:27 88, 143, 310, 321, 325 10–11 312 10:5–9 311 10:6 142, 324 10:8 310 10:8–16 311 10:9 142 10:9–10 324 10:11–16 311 10:14 143 10:16 310 10:16–20 311 10:21 311 11–12 311, 319 11:1–2 311 11:11 310 11:13–16 311 11:13–17 311

11:25–29 311 11:30 311, 317 11:31 88, 143, 309, 319, 321, 325 11:32 310–11, 315, 317 11:33 311 11:33–36 311 11:34 317 11:35 142 11:38 310, 311 11:40–42 317 11:41 143 310–11, 317 11:42 11:44 310–11 11:45 311, 317 12 313 12:1 145, 310–11, 317, 324–25 12:1–3 143, 145, 152, 160, 331 12:1–12 388 12:2 145, 322, 324–26 145, 324–25 12:3 12:4 142 12:7 144, 310 12:10 310, 312, 315 88, 143, 321, 325 12:11 12:11–12 145 12:12 142, 324 12:13 142 Hosea 1:12 461 3:5 135 4:1–3 289 4:11–12 34 6:2 361 6:6 84–85, 405, 420 10:15 461 11:1 366, 461 11:6 461 Joel 2:27 94 3:2 157 3:11–12 157 4 203 4:17 77



Ancient Sources Index 535

Amos 1–2 203 1:6 219 1:9 219 5:14 165 5:21–22 83 5:21–27 31 8:5 39 9:11 135, 267 Obadiah 8 219 Micah 4:1–2 204 4:1–5 135 5:2 152, 248 5:9 204 5:15 204 7:11–13 203 Habakkuk 1–2 265 1:4 266 1:5 264 1:13 266, 270 2:2 264–65 2:4 266 2:8 274 2:9–11 274 2:15 272–73 Zephaniah 2:8 204 2:1–3 204 3:8 157 Haggai 1:13 165 2:3 76 2:4 165 2:7–9 76 Zechariah 2:10–11 94

7:8–14 203 7:9 152 8:13 135 8:20–23 135 8:23 165, 204 9:9 222, 384 9:11 148 11 234 11:12–14 390 12:7–13:1 135 12:9 181 14:2 157 14:4 358 14:4–5 357–59, 368 14:5 359 14:5–6 359 14:16 135 14:16–19 204 Malachi 3:1 235 Deuterocanonical Books Tobit 1:8 61 1:11 197 3:4 182 4:12 34 4:15 31 6:13–15 49 7:12–13 61 8:7 34 13:5 182 14:6 182 Judith 3:8 157, 183, 185 5:17–19 146 6:16–21 59 7:23–32 59 10–12 197 13:12–14:10 59

536

Ancient Sources Index

Wisdom of Solomon 1:1 152 3:8 152 9:10 140 10:5 175 12:12 175 14:11 175 14:12 34 15:15 175 Sirach 4:9 152 22:24 68 23:24 68 25–26 35 36:1 182 42:8 152 47:11 140 47:22 140 48:15 140 48:22 140 Epistle of Jeremiah 1:50 [6:51]

182

Prayer of Azariah 1:14 182 Susanna 28 60, 68 41 60 52–59 60 60–62 60 62 61 1 Maccabees 1:42 157, 182 1:54 321 1:59 321 2:18 157 2:18–19 182 2:32–41 41 2:34–41 61 3:10 175 3:25 175

3:48 61 3:52 175 3:58 175 4:11 182 4:11–14 175 4:43 321 5:9–10 175 5:22 175 5:37–44 178 5:43 178, 182 6:7 321 9:73 152 11:33 152 14:36 175 2 Maccabees 4:23–28 316 6:1–5 321 6:2 321 6:4 175 6:5 321 6:11 41 6:12–17 97 7 355 7:1–42 331 7:23 355 8:9 175 8:16 175 11:25 152 11:36 152 12:13 175 12:43–44 331 14:4 175 23:4–8 320 1 Esd 6:21 152 3 Maccabees 4:1 175 6:30 152 7:4 182 4 Maccabees 3:18 331 6:7 331 7:19 339



Ancient Sources Index 537 10:4 331 13:13–17 331 13:17 339 16:25 339 18:17 353 Pseudepigrapha

1 Enoch 1–36 326 1.4–9 205 5–10 141 9.6–7 311 10.10 322 10.21 182 14.18–21 141 15.6 322 18.8 141 22.1–14 331 25.3 141 25.4–6 326 26–27 205 26.4–27.4 326 37–71 205, 326 45.3 141 45.3–5 150 45.4–5 141 47.3 141 51.1–4 331 51.1–5 326 55.4 141 60.2 141 61–62 205 61.5 326 62.2–3 141 62.5 141 62.15–16 331 69.26–29 141, 205 71.7 141 72.1 150 83–80 314 85–90 326 89.72–74 78 90.8 78 90.20–38 205

90.26–33 326 90.28–29 78 90.30 157 90.33 157 90.37–38 157 91.7–16 203 91.9–10 331 91.11–17 314 93.1–10 314 93.6 350 93.10 311 98.13 50 102.4–104.8 326 103.3–8 331 108.11–15 331 108.12 141 2 Baruch 459 4.5 78 30.1–2 331 32.1–6 150 42.8 331 44.12 150 49.1–51.6 364 50.1–3 331 50.3–4 365 51.1–6 331 57.2 150 72 203 72.2 157, 179, 182 72.2–6 158, 179 72.5 182 2 Enoch 20.1 138 70.7 182 4 Ezra 459 7.32 331 7.37 157, 331 7.75 150, 331 7.78–80 331 7.88 331 7.95 331 13.33–49 203

538

Ancient Sources Index

Ahiqar (Armenian) 8.88 31 Apocalypse of Abraham 27.1 175 Apocalypse of Moses 13.3–4 331 41.2–3 331 Ascension of Isaiah 2.11 40 Assumption of Moses

343

Joseph and Aseneth 7.1 197 Jubilees 1.16 78 1.27–28 78 1.29 150 2.25–27 41 2.29–30 39 4.31 38 5.17–19 274 12.23 182 18.16 182 22 197 22.11 182 22.16 175 23.26 311 30.11 175 30.13–14 175 31.7 140 31.20 140 50.9 39 50.10–11 40 Letter of Aristeas 197 234 31 Liber antiquitatum biblicarum 3.10 150 6.11 228

9.5 Lives of the Prophets Ezekiel 13

175, 176 353

Martyrdom and Ascension of Isaiah 9.24–26 141 Psalms of Solomon 2.2 175 2.19 175 2.19–20 140 2.22 175 3.11–12 331 17 246 17.26–30 203 17.28 152 17.34–35 182 Sibylline Oracles 2.221–226 353 4.179–182 353 4.179–192 331 Testament of Abraham B 8.5

141

Testament of Benjamin 9.2 34, 157 10.6–8 331 10.6–11 158 10.7–9 203 Testament of Dan 1.7–8 68 5.1–3 31 Testament of Gad 4.1–7 68 Testament of Isaac 2.1–5 339 Testament of Issachar 7.6 31



Ancient Sources Index 539

Testament of Judah 12.2 34 24.6 175 25.4 331 Testament of Levi 3.8 138 5.1 140, 141 14.1–2 182 14.1–4 175 14.4 182 15.1 78, 175 15.1–2 182 16.3 228 Testament of Moses 343 5.3–4 78 8.3 175 Testament of Naphtali 8.3–6 175 Testament of Simeon 2.11 68 Testament of Zebulun 4.11 68 9.8 175 Dead Sea Scrolls 1Q14 8–10 4 10 6

269 261

1Q15 319 1Q16 319 1Q20 21 13

326

1Q27 1, 3–12

182

1QapGen XX, 15

35

1Q71 311–10 1Q72 311 1QHa I, 11–12 VII, 17–25 VIII, 29–31 VIII, 29–31a IX, 10–23 X, 17 XI, 8–9 XI, 19–23 XI, 25 XI, 37 XII, 30 XIII, 11 XIII, 11–12 XIII, 34 XIV, 12–13 XIV, 29–35 XIX, 10–14 XIX, 5 XX, 35

318 334 294 295 334 270 310 326, 334–35 302 310 302 310 150 310 335 334 326, 335 302 302

1QM I, 2 I, 3 I, 4 I, 6 I, 6–7 I, 11–12 I, 12 XIII, 5 XIV, 14 XIX, 10 XV, 1–2 XVI, 1 XVII, 7

310–11, 317 311 310–11 310–11, 317 317 311, 317 310 294 318 182 182 182 311, 317

1QpHab 319 I, 10 266

540

Ancient Sources Index

1QpHab (cont.) I, 13 261 II 264–65 II–VI 275 II, 1–4 270 II, 1–5 269 261, 264, 270 II, 2 II, 4 270 264 II, 6 II, 6–8 264 265 II, 7 II, 8–9 265 III, 4–6 182 V, 5–13 270 269 V, 8 V, 8–12 270 261, 270 V, 10 V, 10–11 266 266 V, 10–12 V, 13 270 264 VI, 15–16 VII 265 VII, 1–5 268 VII, 4 261 264–65 VII, 4–5 VII, 5 268, 318 265 VII, 7 265 VII, 7–8 VII, 8 318 VII, 9–14 266 265, 275 VII, 10–11 VII, 11–12 266 VIII, 1–3 266 266 VIII, 2 VIII, 3 261 VIII, 5 182 VIII, 8–13 274 VIII, 9 274 VIII, 9–13 271 VIII, 13–IX, 7 274 VIII, 16 271 IX 275 IX, 5–7 274 IX, 9–10 261, 266 IX, 9–12a 274

IX, 12b–X, 5 274 X, 3–5 271 X, 5–13 270 X, 9 269 XI 274 XI, 2–8 29 XI, 4–6 266 272 XI, 4–8 XI, 5 261 274 XI, 14 XII, 5 274 78 XII, 8–9 1QS I, 4, 10–11 38 III, 3 317 295 III, 4–5 III, 13 311 294 IV, 2 IV, 2–26 390 294 IV, 9–10 IV, 7 322 326 IV, 7–8 IV, 25 150 V, 8 36 V, 13–14 295 294 V, 19–20 VI 317 VI, 25 295 VI, 27 36 VII 317 VII, 14–15 319 VIII, 6 273 VIII, 10 273 VIII, 19 317 IX, 2 317 IX, 4 273 317 IX, 12 IX, 21 317 IX, 21–23 38 XI, 3–4 318 XI, 5–8 335 1QSa II, 3–9

295

1QSb I, 1 I, 1–2 III, 22 V, 20

Ancient Sources Index 541 311 317 311, 317 311, 317

3–4 I, 7 3–4 II, 2 3–4 III, 3 3–4 II, 4 3–4 III, 6

270 270 270 270 270

4Q14 319

4Q170 319

4Q112 311

4Q171 1+2 II, 18–20 1–10 I, 27 1–10 III, 15 1–10 III, 15–16 1–10 III, 19 1–10 IV, 7–8 1–10 IV, 8–9 1–10 IV, 9 1–10 IV, 14 3+5–10 IV, 9–10 3–10 IV, 6 IV, 8–9 IV, 27

4Q113 311 4Q114 311 4Q115 311 4Q116 311 4Q156 273 4Q159 175 4Q161 8–10 1–4 8–10 20

175–76, 178 141

4Q161–165 319 4Q162 II, 6 II, 10 4Q163 4–7 II, 6 21 6 23 II, 10 46 2

269 269 269 262 270, 317 262

4Q166–167 319 4Q167 5–6 2 4Q169 3–4 I, 2

262 317, 319 270

4Q172 7 1

277, 319 263 262 261 263, 268 261 272 266 271 270 263 266 29 261 261

4Q173 319 1 4 261 2 2 261 4Q174 1 II, 10 1–3 II 1–3 II, 1–2 1–3 II, 2 1–3 II, 3–4

267, 314 142 310, 315 315 315 312, 315

4Q175 267 4Q177 267 7 2 270 9 4 271 IX, 10 271 XI, 5–8 271 XI, 12–14 271

542

Ancient Sources Index

4Q177 (cont.) XI, 14 XII, 5

271 271

4Q180 1 7–10

274

4Q180–181 4Q181 II, 1–4

267, 311 318

4Q184 4.4 326

4Q252–254 267 4Q254a 267 4Q265 295 4Q266 2 I, 6 2 I, 18 6 I 10 II, 15 III, 19

269 269 264 295 262

4Q267 2.15 262 9 I, 8 264 IV 264

4Q202 1 III, 15

141

4Q203 7 I

274

4Q213 1 18 IV, 6

4Q269 5 2 262 7 264

141 141

4Q270 7 I, 6

295

4Q271 5 I, 9 5 II, 20

175 264

4Q272 1 I

264

4Q273 4 II

264

4Q289 1 4

264

4Q299 10, 3

182

4Q242

309–10, 312, 313

4Q243 312 4Q243–244 313 4Q243–245

309–10, 313

4Q244 312 4Q245

312, 334

4Q246 II, 3 II, 6 II, 9

309–10, 312, 314 314 314 314

4Q248 9–10 310

4Q300 310 4Q378 3 I, 9

182

4Q382 40 1

Ancient Sources Index 543 326

4Q385 326 2 2–9 353 2 5 326 2 8 326 326 3 2–3 12 4 326 4Q385–388

334, 353

4Q385a 318 310 V, 8–9 4Q386 1 I, 4 1 I, 1–10 1 II, 2

326 353 326

4Q387 318 310 III, 6 4Q388 7 2–7 7 7

2 VI 2 VII

141 141

4Q464 267 4Q491c 1 6 ss c 1 7 1 11

142 142 142

4Q496 III, 3

310

4Q504 310 1–2 III, 2–7 182 1–2 IV, 2-12 182 4Q521 2 II, 7 2 II, 12 5 II, 4–6 4Q524 6 XII, 1

326, 334 142 326 326 139

353 326

4Q530 310

4Q388a 318

4Q542 334

4Q389 318

4Q543–548 334

4Q390 318

4Q547 314

4Q391

4Q551 312

334, 353

4Q415–418 334

4Q552–553

4Q419 1 8–10

6Q7 311

141

4Q426 90 4Q434 310 1 I, 7 141 2 II–III 141

11Q13 II, 2–9 II, 4 II, 6–8 II, 7–8 II, 10–14

312, 314

315, 319 315 316 318 273 316

544 11Q13 (cont.) II, 15 II, 15–16 II, 16 II, 18 II, 18–20 II, 20–22 II, 24 II, 25

Ancient Sources Index 316 316 316 311 316 316 316 316

11Q14 267 11Q19 XXV, 10–XXVII, 10 XXIX, 7–10 XLVIII, 11–13 LI, 19–21 LIX, 2–20 LIX, 14–17 CD A I A I, 1–17 A I, 3–13 A I, 5–6 A I, 7 A I, 7–10a A I, 10–II, 1 A I, 11 A I, 14 A I, 18–20 A III, 12–20 A III, 21–IV, 4 A IV, 12–V, 14 A VI, 7 A VI, 9–11 A VI, 11 A VII, 7 18 A VII, 17 A VIII, 13 A IX, 9–12 A IX, 13–14 A X–XII A X, 10–12 A X, 22–23

273 77 175 175 146 139 270, 277 268 318 311 311 269 270 262, 269 269 270, 271 311 319 34 262 267 262, 271 267 262 269 36 264 39 302 39

A XI, 13–14 A XI, 14–15 A XI, 16 A XII, 3–6 A XII, 8–9 A XIII, 5–6 A XIII, 7 A XIV, 7 A XIV, 12 A XV A XV, 8 A XVI A XVI, 7–12 B XX B XX, 1 B XX, 14 B XX, 27–32 B XX, 28

55 175 42 41 175 264 317 317 317 36 317 36 36 267 262, 269 262 267 262

Ancient Jewish Writers Josephus, Antiquitates judaicae 1.15 242 1.18 242 1.24 242 1.102 69 3.255–256 40 4.280 37 4.323–326 342 7.363–367 383 11.66 150 12.253 321 13.200 175 13.249 242 13.257–258 219 13.296–298 29 13.297 29 13.408–409 29 13.408–411 29 14.121 242 14.168–177 69 14.441 242 15.365–372 242 15.373 242 15.374 242



Ancient Sources Index 545 16.43 60 16.180 243 16.182 243 16.183 243 16.188 243 17.42 36, 382 18.20 383 18.117 442 19.328–331 175 20.34–48 51 20.165–167 128

Philo, De Abrahamo 98 35

Josephus, Bellum judaicum 1.1–2 241 1.181 241 1.282 241 1.388 241 1.391 242 2.135 36 2.139 38 2.154–156 333 2.254–257 128 2.292 60 2.466–480 219 4.317 50 4.331–332 50 4.359–360 50 4.381–382 50 6.124–128 128 6.299 77 6.300–301 95 6.300–309 128

Philo, De specialibus legibus 1.113–115 50 1.250 50 1.299–300 31 2.62 71 3.182 37

Josephus, Contra Apionem 2.108 383 2.175 60 2.178 114 2.206 31 2.215–219 61 Josephus, Vita 277–282 59 277–303 60, 72 298–300 60

Philo, De decalogo 84 36 Philo, De migratione Abrahami 53–61 175 Philo, De posteritate Caini 89–93 175

Philo, De vita Mosis 2.22 40 2.65 150 Philo, Hypothetica 7.6 31 Philo, Legatio ad Gaium 156 60 361 29 Philo, Quod omnis probus liber sit 75 383 80–83 60 81–82 58 84 36 Philo, Quaestiones et solutiones in Exodum 2.22 175 Philo, Quaestiones et solutiones in Genesin 3.11 332 3.60 175 Philo, De sacrificiis Abelis et Caini 1.5 339

546

Ancient Sources Index New Testament

Matthew 1–2 253 1:1 62, 125, 135, 222, 243–44, 247 1:2 155 1:2–17 135, 243 1:3 122 1:3–6 94 1:5 122 1:6 244 1:11 155 1:12 347 1:16 247 1:16–17 250 1:17 247 1:18–25 244, 250, 366 1:19 35 1:20 244 1:21 80, 100, 129, 136, 148, 161, 198, 201, 208, 244, 250, 405, 441, 454 1:22 278 1:22–23 56 1:23 165, 244 1:25–2:2 246 2 118, 123, 225 2:1 94, 198, 246 2:1–2 116 2:1–12 116, 136, 159 2:1–18 114 2:2 225, 227–28, 456 2:2–3 225 2:3 18, 225, 228–29, 246 2:3–6 225 2:4 118, 198, 226, 247, 249, 454 2:4–6 117 2:5 247 2:6 152, 191, 198, 217, 223, 226, 247–50, 454 2:7 118, 249 2:11 365 2:12 247 2:13 247 2:13–23 251, 253 2:15 56, 247, 278, 366, 461

2:16 247 2:16–18 118, 305 2:17 278 2:17–18 56 2:18 461 2:19 247 2:20–21 113, 219, 245, 250 2:22 247 2:23 278 2:25–26 44 3 315 3:1 136 3:1–17 277 3:2 306 180, 216 3:5–6 3:7 136, 216 136, 404, 442 3:7–10 3:7–12 442 3:9 94, 122 3:10 159 3:11 131 3:12 152, 160, 448 3:15 32 3:17 366 4 258 4:1–11 366 4:4 278 4:5 86, 113, 119, 142, 323 4:7 278 4:9 142, 323 4:10 278 4:14 278 4:14–16 56 4:15 94, 156, 181, 199 4:16 198, 454 4:17 62, 136 4:18 155 4:20 223 4:21 155 4:22 223 4:23 14, 53–54, 56, 61, 65–67, 71, 198, 454 4:23–5:2 14, 64 4:23–9:35 219 4:23–25 14, 62–63, 65, 72, 385



Ancient Sources Index 547 4:25 62–63, 215, 219, 223 5 52 5–7 14, 54, 61–67, 70, 72, 257 5:1 62–65, 71, 108 5:1–2 62, 219, 224 5:2 61–62 5:3–12 151 5:10–12 156 5:11 155, 159 5:11–12 165 5:12 226 5:14 94 5:16 84 5:17 32, 278, 419 113, 123, 419–20 5:17–18 5:17–19 56, 122, 128 5:17–20 32–33, 67, 99, 109, 202, 278, 298 5:17–42 64 5:17–48 71, 166, 219 32, 150, 157, 191, 419 5:18 5:19 30, 32, 51, 75, 84, 124, 208 5:19–20 52 5:20 84, 109, 112, 136, 279, 280 5:21 69 5:21–22 298 5:21–26 33, 67–69, 304 33, 67, 278 5:21–48 5:22 68, 69 5:22–24 155 5:23 76 5:23–24 83, 88, 128, 297 5:23–25 69 5:23–26 298 5:25–26 298 5:27–30 33, 67, 304 5:29–30 364 5:31 386 5:31–32 34–35, 67 5:33–37 34, 36, 67 5:34 86, 137, 138 5:34–35 157, 420 5:35 86, 119, 145 5:37 420 5:38–42 34, 36, 38, 67

5:40 152 5:42 84 5:43–48 34, 38, 67 5:44 84 5:45 84 5:46 109–10 5:47 108, 111, 155, 178, 190, 200 84, 109, 123, 453 5:48 6:1–4 70 6:1–21 433, 445 6:2 70, 109, 178, 452 6:3 84 6:4 84 6:5 70, 109, 452 6:5–6 70 6:6 420 6:7 108, 111, 178, 190, 200 6:8 420 6:9–10 145 6:10 136, 157 6:11–15 298 6:12 444 6:14–15 38 6:16 109 6:19–20 157 6:30 231 6:32 108, 111, 156, 178, 181, 190, 199–200, 420 7:1–2 152 7:2 152, 444 7:3–5 155 7:5 109 7:7 419 7:11 420 7:12 31, 84, 192 7:13–14 141 7:15–20 159 7:15–23 154 7:16–20 440 7:17 84 7:21 84 7:21–22 152 7:21–23 38, 110, 136, 442 7:22 136 7:24 84

548

Ancient Sources Index

Matthew (cont.) 7:28 108 7:28–29 61, 65, 108, 220 7:29 66–67, 71, 73, 187, 258, 277, 279, 453 8–9 62, 258 8:1 223 8:1–4 80, 297 8:2 365 8:2–14 44 8:4 76, 81, 84, 88 8:5–13 94, 116, 118, 123, 159, 200, 362 8:8–9 118 8:9 187 8:10 223 8:10–12 136, 200 8:10–13 114 8:11 118, 202, 208 8:12 119, 136, 446 8:14–17 42 8:17 56, 278 223, 279 8:19 8:19–20 110, 215 14, 49–51 8:21–22 8:22 223 8:25 245 8:26 231 9:3 279 9:6 187, 220, 258, 322 187, 220, 258 9:8 9:9 6, 112, 223, 277 9:9–13 44, 110 9:10–11 386 9:10–13 110, 112 9:13 84, 192, 207, 278, 401, 405, 420 9:18 215, 365 9:18–26 44 9:19 223 9:20 31, 75 9:23 215 9:25 215 9:27 223 9:32–34 216, 221, 225 9:33 216, 221

9:33–34 230 9:34 230 9:35 14, 53, 56, 61, 66 9:36 115, 120, 123, 151, 218 9:37–38 152 10 17, 193, 258, 457 10:1 187, 193, 249, 258 10:1–4 151 10:2 155 10:2–4 401 10:3 6, 110, 112 136, 152, 156, 162, 181, 199, 10:5 200, 401, 453 10:5–6 114, 122–23, 129, 162, 164, 167, 170, 173, 178, 187, 189, 218 10:6 151, 217, 218 10:8 193 10:11–13 156 10:13–23 156 10:15 136, 204 10:16–23 136, 237 10:17 452 10:17–18 68, 164 10:17–42 165 10:18 155–56, 159, 180–81, 199 10:21 155 10:22 136, 142, 155, 159, 164, 245, 324 10:23 136, 172, 189, 202, 322, 454, 457 10:24–25 159 10:25 155, 180 10:26 164 10:28 164, 337–39, 344, 345 10:37 50 10:40 155 10:40–42 125, 131, 155–56, 159 10:42 155 11 379 11:1 61 11:2 224 11:2–6 385 11:7–20 224 11:7–30 224 11:10 278



Ancient Sources Index 549 11:11 155 11–12 258 11:13 32, 33 11:14 217 11:16 85 11:16–19 86 11:19 110, 112, 386 11:20–21 136 11:20–24 114, 160 11:21 142, 324 136, 204 11:22 11:24 136, 204 11:25 115, 157, 224 11:25–26 258 11:25–27 159, 166 11:27 258 11:28 419 11:28–30 224, 441 39, 40 12:1 12:1–8 41 12:1–13 39 12:1–14 41 12:2 326 12:3–6 40 12:4 84 12:5 40 12:6 88, 98 12:7 31, 40, 84, 192, 207, 278, 401, 405, 420 12:8 40, 322 12:9 59 12:9–14 41 12:10 41 12:10–11 42 12:11–12 42, 54 12:14 41, 452 12:15 223 12:17–21 56, 278 12:18 156, 180–81, 199 12:18–21 120 12:21 156, 181, 190, 199 12:22–24 216, 221, 225 12:23 221–22 12:23–24 230 12:24 221, 230

12:25 85 12:32 136 12:33–37 304 12:34 304 12:36 136, 204 216, 279 12:38 12:38–42 114 12:38–45 86 12:39–40 217 12:40 361 12:41 85, 98, 136, 152 204, 217, 336 12:41–42 12:42 85, 98 12:46 249 12:46–47 155 12:46–50 159, 224 12:48–50 155 13 258, 439 13:1 56 13:2 224 13:3–23 230 13:3–35 224 13:10 56 13:10–17 224, 231 13:10–23 224 13:14–15 56, 278 13:15 198, 454 159, 428 13:18–23 13:24–30 430 13:32 142, 324 13:35 56, 278 13:36 224 13:36–43 428, 430, 444, 448 13:36–52 224 13:37–43 160 13:38 79, 119 13:39 142 13:39–40 136 13:41–42 109, 320 13:41–43 128, 152 13:42 142, 145, 320, 325 13:43 143, 324, 325 13:47 157 13:47–48 430 13:49 136, 448

550

Ancient Sources Index

Matthew (cont.) 13:49–50 160, 320, 430 13:50 142, 320, 325 13:52 110, 112, 180, 280 13:54 61, 452, 453 13:55 155 13:57 54 14–17 258 14:1–12 252 14:3 155 14:9 236 14:13 223 14:30 245 14:31 109, 231 222, 365 14:33 14:36 31, 75 15:1 279 15:1–2 109 15:1–9 217 15:1–20 20, 48, 109, 136, 298 15:2 421 15:3 448 15:6–8 278 15:7 109 15:7–8 302 15:7–9 217 15:8 198, 278, 454 15:10 217 15:10–11 217, 224, 304 15:10–20 301, 307–8 49, 297, 298, 299 15:11 15:12–20 224 15:13 420 15:17–20 299, 304 15:18–19 128, 304 15:18–20 297–98, 304 15:19 300, 307 15:19–20 298 15:20 49, 300 15:21–28 94, 114, 116, 119, 123, 136, 159, 200, 362 15:22 120, 203 15:24 120, 123, 129, 151, 170, 200, 217–18, 223, 453 15:25 365

15:27 119 15:31 113, 220, 280 16:1–4 86 16:4 85 16:8 231 16:13–20 92 16:16 222, 366 79, 91, 92 16:18 16:19 157 16:21 18, 109, 226, 228, 279, 360, 362 16:24 223 16:24–27 150 16:24–28 165 16:25 245 16:27 84, 160, 322, 430, 444–45, 448 16:27–28 136 16:28 322 17:1 155, 347 17:1–8 341 17:5 202, 366, 416 17:6 142, 323 17:7 323 17:9 142, 360 17:10 279 17:11 150 17:17 85, 109 17:20 110, 231 17:22–23 362 17:23 360 18 110, 396 18:1 150 18:1–14 386 18:5 155 18:6 155 18:10 155 18:12–14 431, 433 18:14 155 18:15 155 18:15–17 110–11, 129 18:17 91–92, 109–10, 112, 178, 190, 200, 457 18:18–19 157 18:19 93 18:20 93, 159, 165 18:21 155



Ancient Sources Index 551 18:21–35 129 18:23–35 445 18:35 155, 435 19:1 119, 383, 384 19:2 223 19:3 35 19:3–9 278 19:3–11 35 19:9 35, 386 19:10 35 19:13–15 386 19:16–22 31 19:17 123, 448 19:21 223, 453 19–22 258 19:22 150 19:27 223 19:27–28 149 19:28 16, 96, 130, 136–38, 142, 145, 149–51, 153, 158, 160, 167, 188, 202–4, 207–8, 223, 322, 325 19:28–29 160 19:28–30 160 19:29 151, 155 20 35 20:1–15 445 20:17–19 362 20:18 152, 279 20:19 120, 156, 181, 199, 360 20:20–21 152 20:20–28 155 20:21 138 20:23 138 20:24 155 20:25 156, 181, 190, 199–200 20:25–27 109, 111 20:28 80, 148, 305 20:29 223 21 222, 226 21–22 387, 392 21–23 224 21:1 383–84 21:1–11 119, 225, 384 21:1–17 221, 225 21:1–27:66 384

21:4–5 56, 278 21:5 384 21:8 222 21:8–9 221 21:8–11 224 21:9 18, 222–26, 229 21:9–10 225 21:10 225–26, 228–29, 384 21:10–11 18, 228 21:11 226 21:12 88, 97, 384 98, 221 21:12–13 21:12–18 96 21:13 88, 98, 278 21:14 88, 222, 385 21:14–16 384 21:14–17 221 21:15 222, 225, 230, 279, 386 21:16 222, 384 21:18–22 385 21:20–22 96 21:23 61, 88, 109, 198, 220, 454 21:23–22:46 217, 220 21:23–24 258 21:23–27 187, 385 21:25–27 385 21:27 258 21:28–22:14 433 21:28–32 136, 385 21:31–32 110, 112, 115 21:33–44 442 21:33–46 228, 387 21:35–36 226 21:38 373 21:39 387 21:40 136 21:41 387 21:42 93 21:43 17, 79, 136, 144, 151, 156, 199 21:44 142–43 21:45 199 21:45–46 109, 217 22:1–10 387 22:1–14 433, 442 22:6 387

552

Ancient Sources Index

Matthew (cont.) 22:7 79, 100, 229, 230, 387 22:8–10 136 22:11–14 387 22:13 390, 446 22:16 61 22:18 109 22:23–33 220, 338, 341 22:24–25 155 22:30 336 22:30–32 96 22:32 341, 420 22:33 61, 220, 224, 455 22:34 387 22:34–39 128 22:34–40 31, 160, 192 22:41 387 22:44 138 23 20, 42, 95, 97, 109, 258, 280, 379, 383–84, 387–88, 390, 404–5, 465 23:1 111, 217, 224, 455 23:1–3 165, 298, 422 23:1–17 51 23:1–39 224 23:2 279, 423, 464 23:2–3 112, 191, 423 23:4 30 23:4–6 423 23:5 75 23:6 452 23:8 155, 277 23:8–10 155 23:8–12 111 23:9 157 23:10 61 23:13 109, 279, 404 23:15 109, 192, 279 23:16–22 297 23:17 113 23:18 76 23:19 113 23:21 76, 84, 420 23:22 137, 138 23:23 43, 48, 83, 109, 113, 124, 191, 192, 279, 298, 432, 447

23:23–24 109, 128 23:24 304 23:25 109, 279, 302 23:25–26 46, 47, 48, 297, 301–3 23:25–27 47 23:25–28 297–98, 307 23:27 47, 48, 279 23:27–28 303 23:27–29 109 23:28 303 23:29 279 23:29–24:2 298 23:29–36 128, 448 23:30–31 226 23:34 68, 110, 112, 136, 155–56, 164–165, 279, 452, 454 86, 226 23:34–36 305, 359 23:35 23:36 86 23:37 97, 100, 226, 228 23:37–24:2 128 23:37–39 18, 95, 148, 226, 228 23:38 88, 96, 128 23:38–39 95 23:39 97, 100, 136, 164, 205, 226, 323 96, 388 24:1–2 24:2 88, 96 96, 136 24:3 24:5 88, 165 24:6 136, 142 24:7 156, 199 24:9 120, 136, 156–57, 186–87, 199, 201 24:9–14 388 24:9–31 165 24:10 143 24:10–12 156 24:12–13 110 24:13 156, 159, 245 24:13–14 136 24:14 94, 136, 156–57, 160, 180, 183, 199, 201, 322 24:15 86, 88, 143, 145, 309, 319, 321, 325 24:15–16 165



Ancient Sources Index 553 24:20 42 24:21 143, 145, 324 24:22 245 24–25 130, 258, 388, 431, 442 24:27 136, 201, 309, 319, 322 24:29 347 24:30 136, 143, 144, 201, 309, 319, 322, 325 24:30–31 160 24:31 323, 325 24:34 86 24:35 150, 157 24:36 136 24:36–25:13 161 24:37 136, 201, 309, 319, 322 24:39 136, 201, 309, 319, 322 24:42 136 24:42–44 136 24:44 309, 319, 322 24:45–25:30 158 24:45–51 432 24:46 84, 136 136, 161 24:50 24:51 109, 390 38, 451 25 25:1–13 445 25:6 136, 161 25:10 136 25:13 136 25:14–30 161, 431 136, 347, 445 25:19 25:24–25 430 25:25–30 161 25:27 136 25:30 435, 445 25:31 136–38, 145, 158, 167, 179, 254, 309, 319, 322, 325, 390, 461 25:31–32 153 25:31–33 153 25:31–46 16–18, 124–26, 131, 137, 152–53, 155–56, 158–61, 167, 195, 201–8, 336, 430 25:32 124, 156–58, 160, 179, 186– 87, 199, 249 25:32–33 179

25:34 125, 145, 153, 445 25:34–36 154 25:34–40 153, 156 25:34–45 84 25:37 179 25:40 124, 153, 155 25:41 145, 153, 179 25:41–43 154 25:41–45 153 25:41–46 156, 445 25:45 124 143, 145, 153, 322, 324, 445 25:46 26–27 225, 383, 384 26–28 258 26:1 383 26:2 347 26:3 198, 249, 454 26:3–5 388 26:5 198, 455 26:6–13 389 26:14–16 389 26:20–29 389 26:24 278 26:25 389 26:26–28 148 26:26–29 305 26:28 80, 129, 305–8, 405, 416, 460 26:29 136 26:31 278 26:32 347 26:45 110 26:47 198, 215, 455 26:54 278 26:55 61, 88, 455 26:56 278 26:57 249, 279 26:57–68 90 26:58 223 26:61 88, 90, 388 26:62 90 26:63 366 26:64 136, 138, 143–44, 160, 309, 319, 323, 325 26:73 347 27 363, 383

554

Ancient Sources Index

Matthew (cont.) 27:1 109, 198, 455 27:2 248 27:3 152 27:3–10 234, 390 27:9 56, 278 248, 456 27:11 27:11–26 18, 96, 213, 214–15, 225– 30 225 27:14 248 27:15 248 27:19 391 27:20 109, 214, 392, 455 27:21 248 27:22 392 27:23 392 27:24 391, 455 27:25 8, 17, 22, 79, 190, 198, 305, 372–74, 391, 455, 465 27:27 248 27:29 227–28, 366, 456 27:37 227–28, 366, 456 245, 366 27:40 27:41 279 27:41–42 109 27:42 245, 366 27:49 245 27:50–51 96 27:51 96, 128, 352, 363 27:51–53 340, 347, 351, 361, 368 27:51–54 350 27:52 322, 325–26, 350 27:52–53 350 27:53 86, 113, 119, 347, 350, 364 27:54 366 27:57 180 27:62–66 362, 387, 392 27:63 347 27:63–64 361 27:64 190, 198, 455 27:66 142 28 201, 363, 384, 456 28:1–7 362 28:1–20 368 28:2 363

28:3 142, 324 28:8–10 362 28:9 363–65 28:10 155 28:11 456 28:11–15 363, 393 28:12 249 28:12–13 109 28:13 456 28:14 227, 248 28:15 165, 230, 456 180, 461 28:16 28:16–20 188, 362 28:17 364, 365 28:18 120–21, 143, 187, 193, 298, 323, 325, 362, 367, 457 28:18–19 189 28:18–20 80, 94, 96, 114, 120, 122, 157, 164–65, 167–68, 173, 187, 190, 192–93, 258 28:19 17, 51, 131, 136, 156–57, 162–64, 166–67, 186–87, 189–191, 193, 199, 201, 254, 416, 457, 463 28:19–20 30, 100, 122–23, 136, 162, 169–94, 201, 258, 306, 362 28:20 84, 122, 136, 150, 159, 165– 67, 189, 193, 202, 460 28:31–32 202 Mark 1:1 234 1:1–8 235 1:1–11 235, 277 1:1–13 235 1:1–15 234–35 1:2 278 1:2–3 235 1:4 237 1:4–8 235 1:5 236 1:11 235 1:12–13 235 1:12–15 235 1:16–20 236 1:21 55



Ancient Sources Index 555 1:21–22 66 1:22 73, 258, 279–80 1:27 258 1:29–34 42 1:30–31 236 1:39 53 1:40–45 236 1:45 44 2:1–3 236 2:1–12 220 2:6 279–80 2:6–7 236 2:10 220 2:12 220–21 2:14 236, 277 2:15–16 386 2:16 236, 280 2:23–3:6 39 2:24 236 2:27 41 3:1 55 3:1–6 55 3:4 41 3:6 236 3:7–8 219 3:7–12 53 3:16–19 401 3:18 6 3:22 216, 280 4 258, 428 5:1–6 236 5:22 215, 236 5:25–29 236 6:2 55 6:2–6 236 6:4 55 6:7–13 237 6:12–13 454, 457 6:13 237 6:14–29 236 6:17 236 6:20 236 6:21 237 6:26 36 6:29 237

6:30 237, 457 6:33–44 237 6:34 238 6:56 31, 75 7:1 280 7:1–4 298 7:1–23 20, 48, 49 7:4 302 7:5 280, 421 7:6 278 7:15 299 7:18 299 7:19 299–300 7:21–22 300 7:26 203 8:11 217 8:31 280, 361 8:34 224 8:34–37 443 9:7 416 9:9–10 360 9:11 66, 280 9:12 150 9:14 280 9:31 361 10:2–9 278 10:2–12 35 10:17–22 31 10:29–30 151 10:30 150 10:33 280 10:34 361 10:37 138 10:40 138 10:45 460 11:8 222 11:9 222 11:14 157 11:17 97, 157, 183, 185, 254 11:18 280 11:27 280 12:1–9 387 12:18–27 338 12:26 338 12:27 420

556

Ancient Sources Index

Mark (cont.) 12:28 280, 387 12:28–34 215 12:29–31 31 12:32 279 12:35 66, 280, 387 12:36 138 12:38 280 13:9 68 13:9–10 165 13:10 183, 254 14:1 280 14:20 389 14:24 305 14:27 278 14:43 215, 280 14:49 278 14:53 280 14:62 138 15:1 280 15:8 227 15:11 227 15:38 340 15:46 237 16:5 165 16:6 237 16:19 138 Q

6:20–23 443 6:36–38 443 6:47–49 443 11:14–15 216, 221 11:16 217

Luke 1:1 278 1:5 238 1:8–22 239 1:8–25 239 1:26–38 239 1:31–35 244 1:32 137 1:32–33 138 1:39–45 239

1:52 137, 139 1:67–80 239 1:79 243 2:8–20 239 2:10 243 2:14 243 2:25–35 239 2:30–32 243 2:36–38 239 3 240 3:1 238 3:1–22 239, 277 3:2 239 3:7 215 3:7–17 442 3:18 239 3:19 239–40 3:19–20 239 4:4 278 4:8 278 4:10 278 4:14–15 53 4:16 55 4:16–17 71 4:16–30 70 4:20 71 4:21 278 4:32 258 4:33 55 4:36 258 5:30 386 6:6 55 6:6–11 55 6:15 6 7:27 278 8:44 75 9:7 236 9:9 240 9:22 361 9:59–60 49 10:16 155 10:25–37 443 10:29–37 50 11:14 216 11:14–15 216



Ancient Sources Index 557 11:16 216 11:29 240 11:39–41 44, 301 11:41 48 11:42 43, 48 11:44 301 12:4–5 337 12:30 187 12:41–48 432 13:10 55 13:10–17 55 13:18–21 55 13:31 240 14:5 55 14:15–24 390 14:26 50 15:1 386 15:3–7 431, 433 16:16 32 16:19–31 333 18:33 361 19:11 150 19:11–27 432 19:37 222 20:18 143 20:38 420 20:42 138 21:12 68, 165 21:24 278 21:30 186 21:36 157 22:16 278 22:20 138 22:27 148 22:28–30 149, 204 22:30 137–38, 149 22:37 278 22:69 138 23:8 240 23:15 240 23:43 332–33 24:6–7 361 24:31 363 24:36 363 24:41–43 365

24:44 278 24:46 360, 361 24:47 157, 165, 171, 183, 186–87, 254 John 2:22 360 3:36 99 4:21–24 205 4:22 136 4:29 221 5:1–18 40 5:25–29 443 5:28–29 160 6:25–65 55 6:39 443 6:40 443 6:44 443 6:54 443 8:2 70 8:11 444 10:3 419 10:9 419 10:16 136 10:31–3 61 11:24 160 12:48 443 13:20 155 14:3 443 14:18 443 15:1–17 443 18:20 53 20:9 360 20:19 363 20:24–29 365 20:26 363 21:14 360 21:21–23 443 Acts 1–9 165 1–12 403 1:6 150 1:13 6 1:16–20 390 2:30–36 138

558

Ancient Sources Index

Acts (cont.) 2:33–34 138 3:15 360 3:19–26 161 3:21 150 3:22–23 404, 416 135, 166 3:25 4:10 360 4:24–27 234 5:28 228 5:31 138 5:33–39 404 6–7 253 6:9 58 7:37 416 7:49 137–38 7:55 138, 155 7:55–56 138 9:4–5 155 10 164 10:1–11:18 49 10:28 198 10:40 361 10:41 360 10:42 160 11:1–3 198 11:26 5, 92 13:16 71 13:16–49 164 13:30 360 13:34 360 14:1 164 14:5 174 14:16 186–87 15:5 253, 408 15:17 186–87 15:19–20 414 15:20 409–10 15:21 60 15:29 409–10 16:13 164 17:1–4 164 17:3 360 17:10–12 164 17:17 164

17:31 160, 360 18:4 164 18:6 228 19:8 164 19:32 94 22:7–8 155 22:19 68 23:6 29 24:12 164 24:15 160 26:14–15 155 26:20 164 26:23 349 26:28 5, 92 28:17 164 Romans 1:4 360 1:16 165 2:9–10 158 2:12–16 160 4:1–25 135 4:24 360 5:17 138 6:4 360 6:9 360 7:4 360 8:11 360 8:18–23 150 8:29 349 8:34 138 9–11 165 9:1–3 233 10:1 233, 254 10:4 32 10:9 360 11 415 11:13 183, 191, 457 11:13–24 136 11:15 361 14:1–6 40, 49 14:10–12 160 16:26 157



Ancient Sources Index 559

1 Corinthians 3:12–17 438 5:1 183, 191 5:1–2 34 5:3 152 5:12 152 6:2–3 152 6:13–18 34 7:12–16 131 9:20 165 11:25 148 11:32 152 12:2 183, 191 15:3–4 360 15:9 93, 409 15:12 360 15:20 349, 360–61 15:23 349 15:24–28 254 15:25 362 2 Corinthians 3:14–16 425 5:10 160, 431 6:16 80 11:24 454 Galatians 1:1 360 1:13 93, 409 1:13–14 253 1:13–15 29 1:23 409 2:2 183 2:7–10 164 2:8 457 2:11–14 49 2:12 174 2:14 253 2:15 110, 115 3:8 135, 166 4:4 75 4:10 40 4:14 155 5:3 123

5:11 122 6:7–10 443 Ephesians 1:20 138, 360 1:20–23 157 2:11–22 136 4:17 183 6:8–9 160 Philippians 2:6–11 157, 464 3:4–6 253 3:5–6 29 Colossians 1:15–20 157 1:16 138 1:18 349 2:12 360 2:16 40 3:1 138 1 Thessalonians 2:14 93 4:5 183 4:13–18 332 4:14 332 4:17 206 1 Timothy 2:6

148, 460

2 Timothy 2:8 360 2:12 138 Titus 3:5 150 Hebrews 1:3 138 1:8 138 1:13 138 5:6 315

560

Ancient Sources Index

Hebrews (cont.) 5:10 315 6:20 315 7:1–17 315 8:1 138 9:11–28 148 10:12 138 11:31 159 12:2 138 James 2 155 2:2 91, 453 5:14 91 1 Peter 1:3 360 1:21 360 2:12 183 3:18–22 157 3:22 138 4:3 183 4:16 5, 92 4:17 158 2 Peter 3:13 150 3 John 6 155 Revelation 1:4 138 1:5 349 2:9 106 2:13 138 2:26 150, 152 2:26–27 138 2:28 152 3:21 138, 150, 152 4:2–3 138 4:4 138 4:5–6 138 4:10 138 5:1 138

5:1–14 157 5:5–6 138 5:6–7 138 5:8 138 5:10 138 5:11 138 5:13 138 5:14 138 6:15 238 6:16 138 7:1–6 150 7:9–10 138 7:11 138 7:13 138 7:15 138 7:17 138 8:3 138 11:16 138 12:5 138 13:2 138 13:7 144 14:3 138, 150 15:4 157 16:10 138 16:17 138 18:23 238 19:4 138 20:4 138, 144, 150, 152 20:6 138, 152 20:11 138 20:11–15 157, 160 21:2 350 21:3 138 21:5 138 21:12 150 21–22 150 21:24–27 157 22:1 138 22:3 138 22:5 138 22:25 152



Ancient Sources Index 561 Rabbinic Works

Avot of Rabbi Nathan 4.17–18

84, 458

b. Avodah Zarah 29a 43 b. Bava Qamma 83b–84a 37

Exodus Rabbah 30.9 125 47.1 418 Genesis Rabbah 14.5 355 16.6 125 46:10 51 56.1 361

b. Berakhot 12a 421

Leviticus Rabbah 14.9 356 22.8 405

b. Gittin 69b 43

m. Avot 1–5 422

b. Hullin 6b–7a 113

m. Berakhot 3:1 49 8:2 45

b. Pesahim 47a 40 b. Shabbat 31a 32 103a 40 116a–b 420 128b 55 140a 43 153a 390 b. Sotah 10a 122 13b 342 b. Yoma 21b 77 52b 77 Deuteronomy Rabbah 2.25 125 Esther Rabbah 9.2 361

m. Betzah 3:4

42, 55

m. Bava Qamma 8:1 37 m. Demai 2:1 43 m. Gittin 9:10

34, 35

m. Hagigah 2:7

29, 49

m. Kelim 1:6 113 1:6–8 86 25 47 25:1 44 25:4 302 25:6 47 25:7 44 25:7–8 45

562

Ancient Sources Index

m. Kelim (cont.) 25:8 45–46 m. Ma’aser Sheni 2:1–2 43 m. Ma’aserot 1:1 43 1:5–7 43 4:5 43 m. Makkot 1:6 37 1:8–10 69 2:1–2 69 2:6 69 2:7–8 69 3:1–16 61 3:12 68

m. Shabbat 7:2 39 12:2 40 14:4 42 18:3 42 m. Shevu’ot 7:1 43 9:1 43 m. Sotah 5:1 35 m. Sukkah 5:4 77 5:7–8 40 m. Ta’anit 7:3 37

m. Menahot 11:7 40

m. Tamid 1:1 140

m. Nazir 7:1 49–50

m. Teharot 4:7 66 7:1 29, 49

m. Nedarim 3:11 182 11:12 35

m. Uqtzin 1:2 43

m. Nega’im 3:1 44

m. Yadayim 3:2 66

m. Parah 11:5 66

m. Yoma 8:6 41

m. Pesahim 4:8 40

Mekilta 1.2.35–50 175 1.9.34–37 176 1.15.19–20 176 5.3 122 7.8.67 37 8.2 140 9.1 41

m. Qiddushin 1:9 113 m. Sanhedrin 7:8 41 11:3 66



Ancient Sources Index 563

Memar Markah 5.3 342

t. Gittin 3.13–14 175

Midrash I Ruth 1.16–17 122

t. Ketubbot 3.2 175

Midrash Tanhuma on Deut 15:9 Ki Tissa 34 Vayyera 6

t. Megillah 2.16 176 3.12 71

155 418 418

Numbers Rabbah 14.12 125 15.10 77 Pesiqta Rabbati 5 418 Pirqe Rabbi Eliezer 51 361

t. Pe’ah 2.9–11 176 t. Pesahim 2.5 175 2.12 176 t. Shabbat 9:17 40 12.14 42

Sifre 37.3 140 269 34, 35 345 409 351 422 357 342

t. Sotah 13.3 85 13.7 86

Songs Rabbah 8.9.3 77

t. Sukkah 2.11 71

t. Berakhot 5.26 45 5.31 176 6.18 176

t. Yevamot 14.7 176

t. Demai 1.12–13 175, 176 4.25–27 176 6.12, 13 176 t. Eruvin 3.8 175 5.19 175

t. Sheqalim 3.11 176

Targum Hosea 6.2 361 Targum Neofiti Exod 21:24 Deut 24:4 Tg. Ps.-J. Lev 19:18

37 35 32

Targum Songs 8.5a 358

564

Ancient Sources Index

y. Berakhot 1.5 421 5.2 361 8.2 45 y. Demai 2, 22d

29, 49

y. Megillah 4.1 422 y. Pe’ah 2.6 422 y. Sanhedrin 7.11 41 y. Sotah 1.2, 16b

34, 35

Early Christian Writings 1 Clement 59.4 183 2 Clement 13.2 183 17.4 183 Apostolic Constitutions and Canons 8.41.2–5 339 Augustine, De doctrina christiana 1.30.31 446 Barnabas 9.5 183 16.2 137 Didache 6.2 409 14.2 298 16.6–8 359

Didascalia Apostolorum 2 421 26 421 Epiphanius, Panarion 30.13.2–8 403 30.14.5 403 30.16 401 30.16.5 99, 403 30.16.7–9 403 30.22.4 403 Epistula Petri 1–3 422 2 415 2:3–5 419 Eusebius, Historia ecclesiastica 2.23.4–18 403 3.39.16 7 5.8.2 6 5.10 7 Gospel of Peter 28–49 350 Gospel of Thomas 1 443 3 443 22 443 27 443 114 443 Gregory of Nyssa, De vita Moysis 446 Irenaeus, Adversus haereses 3.1.1 6 Jerome, Commentariorum in Matthaeum libri IV on 27:25 373 Jerome, Commentariorum in Isaiam libri XVIII 1.20 373



Ancient Sources Index 565 17.32 373

John Chrysostom, Homiliae in Matthaeum 64.2 151 Justin, Dialogus cum Tryphone 19.6 405 47 409 Origen, Contra Celsum 2.8 372 Pseudo-Clementine Homilies 2.22–26 411 2.38–48 417 2.38.1 417, 422 2.40.4 417–18 2.51.1 417 3.4.1 418 3.18.1 424 3.18.3 422 3.18.3–19.1 423 3.19.1 416 3.38–39 418 3.45.4 419 3.46.1 419 3.47 417 3.47.1 417 3.48–57 418 3.48.1 419 3.49.2 419 3.50.2 417 3.51 422 3.51.1 423 3.51.3 419 3.52 419 3.52.1 420 3.53 416 3.55–57 420 3.59.2 413 3.60 424 3.70 424 7.4 416 7.5 414 7.8 414

7.8.1 414 7.8.1–2 414 7.12 414 8.5–7 424 8.6 416 8.6–7 415 8.22 414 8.23 416 9.19 414 9.23 414, 416 9.23.2 414 10–14 400 10.6.1–4 416 10.25 416 11.25–27 414 11.26.1 414 11.28–29 423 11.29 422 11.35 414 13.4.3 414 13.4–14.1–2 414 16.5–8 418 16.6–14 417 16.13 418 16.14.3–5 425 17.7 414 17.7.1 416 17.14 415 17.18–19 415 18.19 417 18.20.4 417, 425 19.23.6 414 Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1–4.1.4 400 1.27–71 23, 399–410, 413, 414, 425, 426 1.30.5 402 1.33–71 401 1.37.2 401 1.39.1 99 1.55–62 401 1.57.3 401

566

Ancient Sources Index

Shepherd of Hermas, Similitudes 9.17.3 [94.3]

183

Greco-Roman Literature Cassius Dio, Historia Romana 52.19.3 182 Cicero, In Pisonem 16 182 Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca historica 34.1.2 197 Juvenal, Satirae 14.96–106 29 Tacitus, Historiae 5.5.2 197

Modern Authors Index

Abegg, Martin, Jr. 315 Adler, Yotanan 293 88, 98 Ådna, Jostein Aland, Barbara 142 Albright, William F. 117, 204, 277, 313 Alexander, Philip S. 61, 76, 227 Allison, Dale C., Jr. 11, 30, 36, 42, 53, 56, 63, 69, 81, 83–84, 88, 90, 92–93, 96, 98, 110, 124–26, 148, 150–151, 154, 157–58, 160, 162, 166, 177, 183, 188, 218, 226, 228–29, 231, 248, 250, 258, 320–21, 323, 337–39, 344, 349, 353, 356–57, 359–61, 363–64, 367, 383, 385, 408, 427, 438, 442, 444–45 Aquinas, Thomas 445 Avery-Peck, Alan J. 12, 82, 334, 377 298 Baasland, Ernst 329, 332 Bacchiocchi, Samuel Backhaus, Knut 228 Bacon, Benjamin W. 78 Baillet, Maurice 312 Bainbridge, William Sims 380–82 Baker, Cynthia M. 11, 56, 63, 78, 82, 136, 151, 235, 278, 341, 359, 364, 376, 438, 453, 456 76 Barclay, John M. G. Baron, Lori 82 196–97 Barth, Fredrik Barth, Gerhard 30, 33, 104, 105 Barthélemy, Dominique 312 Barton, Carlin A. 198, Barton, John 288–90, 293–94, 296 Barton, Stephen C. 50 Basser, Herbert W. 376–77 Bauckham, Richard J. 48, 87, 199, 451

Bauer, David R. 245–47, 249, 251, 376 Baumgarten, Albert I. 380–81, 391, 411, 422 Baumgarten, Joseph 302 Baxter, Wayne 12, 19, 105, 217–18, 249, 460 415, 417 Bazzana, Giovanni B. Beale, Greg K. 139 82, 99 Becker, Adam H. Becker, Jürgen 228 292 Bell, Catherine Betz, Hans Dieter 36 57–58, 66, 70, 76, Binder, Donald D. 108, 114, 395 Black, Matthew 43, 48 Blanton, Thomas R., IV 441 313 Bledsoe, Amanda Davis Blomberg, Craig L. 151, 428 Bock, Darrell L. 56 35, 48, 50, 234 Bockmuehl, Markus Boring, Eugene 235 Bornkamm, Günther 30, 105, 431 Boustan, Ra’anan S. 416, 423 62–63 Bowman, John Wick Boyarin, Daniel 2, 198, 457 400 Bremmer, Jan N. Broer, Ingo 151 Brooke, George J. 313–15, 386 Brown, Michael Joseph 103 Brown, Raymond E. 318, 348, 363 Brown, Schuyler 105, 162 Büchler, Adolph 287 Bultmann, Rudolf 127, 259, 443 Burnett, Fred W. 150 Burns, Joshua E. 4, 9, 82, 399, 402, 410

-567-

568

Modern Authors Index

Burridge, Richard A. 6, 104, 121, 132 Byrskog, Samuel 61, 112, 257, 259, 297 Cadoux, Arthur T. 429, 432 Callaway, Philip R. 262, 273 Calvin, John 63, 428 Campbell, Anthony F. 146 435 Capon, Robert Farrar Cara, Robert J. 449 Carlson, Donald H. 412, 417–19, 421–22 Carmignac, Jean 319 82 Carson, Donald A. Carter, Warren 12, 83, 117–18, 120, 245, 250, 257, 338, 439 Casey, Maurice 39–40, 43–44, 48, 330, 355 Catchpole, David 49 358 Cathcart, Kevin Catto, Stephen K. 57, 60, 70 330 Cavallin, Hans C. C. Chae, Young S. 217, 218 380 Chalcraft, David J. Charette, Blaine 125 343 Charles, Robert H. Charlesworth, James H. 261–62, 273, 295, 302, 355 Chazan, Robert 393–92 352 Chester, Andrew 2 Cirafesi, Wally V. Citron, Bernhard 223 Clabeaux, John 389 8, 103, 169, 170, Clark, Kenneth W. Clements, R. A. 82, 263, 279, 352 Coblentz Bautch, Kelley 418 195 Cockle, Walter E. H. Cohen, Akiva 1, 15, 31, 80, 84, 87, 92, 96–98, 105, 458 Cohen, Jeremy 374–75 Cohen, Shaye J. D. 380, 415, 422, Collins, John J. 78, 310, 313–14, 316– 18, 320–23, 325, 331, 334–35, 343 Collins, Matthew A. 262–63, Collins, Nina L. 39, Comber, Joseph A. 230 Cook, Edward 315 Cook, Michael J. 8, 104, 162, 376–77, 389

Cope, Lamar A. 280 Cotton, Hannah 195, 241 Cousland, J. Robert C. 214–15, 219, 221–22, 224, 226 Cranfield, C. E. B. 235 Crawford, Barry S. 254 312, 352 Cross, Frank Moore Crossan, John Dominic 375–76, 389, 436 Crossley, James G. 14, 41, 44, 47, 48, 68, 300, 464 427 Crowe, Brandon D. Cullmann, Oscar 329 Cummins, S. Anthony 236 335 Davidson, Maxwell J. Davies, Graham I. 76, 77, 268–69, 334 Davies, Philip R. Davies, W. D. 11, 36, 42, 53, 56, 63– 64, 69, 72, 78, 81, 83–84, 88, 90, 92–93, 96, 98, 105, 110, 112, 124–26, 150–51, 154, 157–58, 160, 162, 166, 177, 183, 188, 218, 226, 228–29, 231, 248, 250, 258, 320–21, 323, 337–39, 349, 356– 57, 359–60, 364, 367, 383, 385, 408, 427, 445 Deasley, Alex 334 376, 408 Deines, Roland 365, 367 Denaux, Adelbert Derrett, J. Duncan M. 69, 150 Deschner, Annette 293 259 Dibelius, Martin Dicken, Frank 233–34, 236, 238 Dimant, Devorah 319, 354 310 DiTommaso, Lorenzo Dobbeler, Axel von 172, 186, 189, 218 Dobschütz, Ernst von 280 Docherty, Thomas 236 Dodd, C. H. 427–34, 437–38, 442, 444, 446–47, 465 Doering, Lutz 39 Donaldson, Terence L. 3, 17, 62–65, 72, 105, 115, 120, 124, 148, 156–57, 160, 171, 173–74, 183, 189, 192, 199, 201, 230, 376, 395–96, 452 Doudna, Greg L. 265



Modern Authors Index 569

Duncan, Patricia A. 69, 150, 411, 421, 423–24 Dunn, James D. G. 80, 87, 100, 323, 360, 389 Dupont, Jacques 151 Eisenman, Robert H. 314 330, 334, 355 Elledge, Casey D. Elliger, Karl 319 141 Eshel, Esther Eshel, Hanan 318 17–18, 124, 197–200, Esler, Philip F. 381, 456 Eubank, Nathan 23–24, 304, 438, 440– 42, 460, 465 Evans, Craig A. 53, 62, 99, 318–19, 341, 349, 378, 383–85, 389, 391 Ewherido, Anthony O. 427–28, 440 Fiedler, Peter 219, 223, 227, 229 49 Fiensy, David A. Fisher, Amy M. 247 34, 55, 317 Fitzmyer, Joseph A. Fletcher-Louis, Crispin H. T. 50 310–11, 313–14, 320, Flint, Peter W. 323, 326 Flusser, David 104, 409 Foster, Paul 9, 33, 376 424 Fraade, Steven D. 53, 55, 124, 151, 162, France, R. T. 235–37, 338, 440 Frankemölle, Hubert 213, 227 412 Frankfurter, David Fredriksen, Paula 2, 123, 394, 413–14, 450 Freedman, Harry 355–56 Frey, Jörg 69, 412, 417 Freyne, Seán 63–64, 199 Fuller, Reginald C. 349 Funk, Robert W. 432, 435, 436 Gager, John G. 105, 371–72 Gale, Aaron M. 377 Garbe, Gernot 158 García Martínez, Florentino 313–14, 353–54 Gardner, Richard B. 378, 411 Gaston, Lloyd 170

Geiger, Joseph 241 Gerhardsson, Birger 259 Gerson, Lloyd 260, 277 Gielen, Marlis 213, 216–17, 226–27 Giesen, Heinz 218 151, 227 Gnilka, Joachim Goldman, Liora 318–19 95–96 Goodacre, Mark Goodman, Martin 87, 458–59 198, 358 Gordon, Robert P. Gowler, David B. 427 318 Grabbe, Lester L. Gray, Sherman W. 124, 127, 154, 158, 206–7 Green, Joel B. 55, 333, 440 141 Greenfeld, Jonas C. Gregerman, Adam 459 411, 436 Gregg, Brian Han Grindheim, Sigurd 431 349 Gschwind, Karl Gundry, Robert H. 7, 53, 55–56, 126, 149, 151, 162, 165, 206–7, 216, 223, 320, 322, 337, 376 Gurtner, Daniel M. 5–6, 12, 20, 78, 84, 87–89, 96–97, 104, 121, 135, 199, 352, 355, 357, 359, 367, 376, 408 Guthrie, Donald 255 58–59 Hachlili, Rachel Häfner, Gerd 216 Hagner, Donald A. 80–81, 83, 92, 155, 162, 171, 206–7, 234, 245, 250, 337–38, 349, 362, 365, 376, 378, 383 Hamilton, Catherine S. 2, 105, 285–86, 305–6 Hare, Douglas R. A. 83, 163, 169, 174, 177, 180, 376 Harland, Philip A. 58 Harrington, Daniel J. 12, 53, 82, 163, 169, 174, 177, 180, 200, 202, 207, 340 Hartung, Constance 293 Heil, John Paul 218, 226, 327, 439 Hendriksen, William 151 Hengel, Martin 49–50, 70 Henten, Jan W. van 240–42, 247, 249 Herzer, Jens 349

570

Modern Authors Index

Herzog, William R., II 436–37, 446 Heyer, Cees den 63, 375 Hicks-Keeton, Jill 82 Hill, Charles E. 362 Hirshman, Marc 409, 418 Hobbins, John F. 326 247 Hoehner, Harold Hoffmann, Paul 147, 217 353 Hogeterp, Albert L. A. Hooker, Morna D. 162, 234 435 Hoover, Roy W. Horgan, Maurya P. 273, 317 Horsley, Richard A. 389 Horst, Pieter W. van der 365 166 Hubbard, Benjamin J. Hultgren, Arland J. 427, 434–35 196 Hutchinson, John Hutton, Delvin D. 349–50 372 Isaac, Jules Jacobson, Arland D. 147–48 279, Jeremias, Gerd Jeremias, Joachim 69, 427, 428, 429–34, 437–38, 447, 465 Johns, Loren L. 261 297, 380–82 Jokiranta, Jutta M. Jones, F. Stanley 5, 399–403, 406–8, 411, 415, 417 439 Jones, Ivor Harold Jülicher, Adolf 23–24, 427–29, 439–40, 446 Kampen, John 2, 22–23, 379–80, 382, 386, 395, 465 Kampling, Rainer 228, 373 360 Käsemann, Ernst Kazen, Thomas 61, 288, 290–93, 299, 301–2, 306, 308 Keener, Craig S. 63, 69, 162, 258 Keith, Chris 278, 453 Kennedy, Joel 216 Kilpatrick, George D. 78 Kingsbury, Jack Dean 79, 80, 439 Kinzer, Mark S. 99, 451, 464 Klauck, Hans-Josef 428 Klawans, Jonathan 4, 87, 128, 285–96, 459–60

Klein, Charlotte 372, 375 Klijn, Albertus F. J. 5 Kline, Leslie L. 415, 417, 420 Kloppenborg, John S. 46, 58, 63, 147, 217, 386, 390, 435, 437, 442 147 Knowles, Michael Knust, Jennifer W. 34 317–18 Kobelski, Paul J. Konradt, Matthias 1, 16, 18, 79, 86, 92– 93, 96–97, 105–8, 113, 115–119, 121– 22, 132–33, 135–37, 139, 144, 149, 151–53, 157–59, 164, 170, 172, 177, 181, 187, 189–90, 192–193, 200–201, 205, 214, 216–17, 220, 222–23, 225– 26, 228, 230–31, 327, 367, 377, 433, 451, 455 Korner, Ralph J. 93 359 Kraeling, Carl Kreinath, Jens 293 243 Krentz, Edgar Kuhn, Heinz-Wolfgang 326 Lagarde, Paulus Antonius 401 Lambrecht, J. 365, 434, 440, 465 240–42 Landau, Tamar Lane, William L. 235, 237, 458 310 Lange, Armin Layang, Seng Ja 2, 105 61 LeFebvre, Michael Lehrer, Tom 259, 279, 450 Lehtipuu, Outi 333 Lemos, Tracy M. 291–94, 296 Levine, Amy-Jill 10–11, 24, 162–63, 172, 177, 179–80, 187, 189, 191, 218, 228, 377, 439, 451–52, 459, 463, 465 Levine, Baruch A. 195 Levine, Lee I. 57–58, 68, 70–71, 92, 395, 411, 413, Lewis, Naphtali 195, 394, 421 Licona, Michael R. 348 Lim, Timothy H. 272, 380 Ljungman, Henrik 3 Loader, William R. G. 32, 38 Lockshin, Martin I. 131 Loewe, Herbert M. J. 3 Lohfink, Norbert 221



Modern Authors Index 571

Lüdemann, Gerd 435 Luomanen, Petri 9, 104 Luther, Martin 8, 92, 374, 435 Luz, Ulrich 9, 62–63, 69, 84, 96, 98, 152, 154–55, 162–63, 170–71, 177, 182, 203, 213, 216–18, 221, 223, 229, 337, 341, 350–51, 359, 364–65, 373–74, 376, 385–86, 440–41 Maaren, John van 2, 49, 300 Macaskill, Grant 388 146 Macchi, Jean-Daniel Maccoby, Hyam 46–47 Mack, Burton 375, 435 Magness, Jodi 59, 302 117, 204, 277 Mann, Christopher S. Manson, Thomas W. 50 82, 236, 287 Marcus, Joel Margulies, Mordecai 405 107 Marshall, John W. Martin, Dale B. 34 352 Martin-Achard, Robert Martyn, Louis J. 402–3, 408 103, 113, 129 Mason, Steve Mauser, Ulrich W. 235 357 McAfee Moss, Charlene McCready, Wayne O. 4 70 McKay, Heather A. 365 McKay, Kenneth L. McKenzie, Steven L. 146 McLaren, James S. 3, 389 Meier, John P. 33–34, 103–4, 152, 156, 165, 169–70, 362, 430, 437, 444–45 Meiser, Martin 224, 230 128, 241 Mendels, Doron Menninger, Richard E. 32, 213 Mertens, Alfred 310, 317–18 Metzger, Bruce M. 143 Meyer, Ben F. 73 Meyer, Rudolf 313 Meyers, Carol 90 Milgrom, Jacob 288, 292 Milik, Józef T. 312–14, 316 Milikowsky, Chaim 113 Millar, Fergus G. B. 195 Miller, Merrill P. 254

Minear, Paul S. 223 Mitchell, Matthew W. 441 Moessner, David P. 147 Mohrlang, Roger 30 Molland, Einar 412 3 Montefiore, Claude G. Moore, George Foot 3, 313, 352 68 Mosser, Carl Moyise, Steve 48 439 Münch, Christian Nagy, Viktor Kókai 441 2, 91, 106–7, 450 Nanos, Mark D. Nepper-Christensen, Poul 8, 104 Nestle, Eberhard 43 Neusner, Jacob 12, 34, 44–46, 77, 82, 85, 176, 287, 334, 377 142, 295, 310, 391 Newsom, Carol A. 326, 331, Nickelsburg, George W. E. 353, 381 Nolan, Brian M. 250 Nolland, John 11, 84, 119, 152, 162, 206–7, 218, 221, 376, 408 Nongbri, Brent 198 146, 147 Noth, Martin Nötscher, Friedrich 311, 317 21–22, 62, 96, 226, Novakovic, Lidija 353, 361 O’Brien, Mark A. 146 O’Brien, Peter T. 82 Oliver, Isaac W. 2, 410 Olmstead, Wesley G. 228, 439 Olsson, Birger 57–58, 114, 395 Ophir, Adi 176 Oppong-Kumi, Peter Yaw 440 Osborne, Grant R. 376, 427 Osei-Bonsu, Joseph 333, 338 Overman, J. Andrew 11, 79, 104, 151, 162, 172, 214, 228, 377, 389 Painter, John 299 Park, Eung Chun 162 Parkes, James W. 82 Patterson, Stephen J. 435 Paul, Dagmar J. 228 Pennington, Jonathan T. 199, 320 Perrin, Andrew 311, 313–14, 318

572

Modern Authors Index

Perrin, Nicholas 78, 87 Person, Raymond F. 146 Piotrowski, Nicholas G. 94 Portier-Young, Anathea E. 311 Prabhu, Soares 248 Priest, John 343 314–15, 326, 333–34 Puech, Émile Pury, Albert de 146 349 Quarles, Charles Rad, Gerhard von 146 Reed, Annette Yoshiko 4, 34, 82, 99, 402, 404, 406–8, 411–13, 415–16, 422–24 Regev, Eyal 128 Rehm, Bernhard 401–2, 413 431 Reicke, Bo Reid, Barbara E. 62 70 Reif, Stefan C. Reinbold, Wolfgang 30, 43 4, 106, 394, 451 Reinhartz, Adele Reinink, Gerrit J. 5 438 Reiser, Marius Repschinski, Boris 9, 81, 213, 220, 229, 306, 377 Richardson, Peter 58, 247 30, 92 Riches, John K. Riesner, Rainer 259 98 Rigaux, Beda 437 Ringe, Sharon H. Rivkin, Ellis 389 Robinson, James M. 46, 217 297, 304, 306–8 Roitto, Rikard Römer, Thomas 146 Rosenfeld, Alvin H. 371 176 Rosen-Zvi, Ishay Ruether, Rosemary Radford 375 Runesson, Anders 5–6, 15–16, 51, 54, 56–59, 61, 70, 79–80, 83, 86–87, 91–92, 96–100, 104–10, 112, 114, 116– 17, 119, 121–23, 128, 131, 135, 151, 153, 155, 157–60, 172, 188, 190–91, 202–3, 205, 214, 228, 279, 285–86, 297–98, 304–5, 308, 320, 322, 376– 78, 387, 395, 405, 408, 437, 442, 458, 460 Ruzer, Serge 4, 68–69

Ryan, Jordan J. 14, 54–55, 59–60, 66–67, 71, 73, 108, 452, 454 Sailhamer, John 89 Saldarini, Anthony J. 11–12, 30, 32, 44, 79, 82–83, 104, 172, 192, 214, 228, 230, 250, 377–78, 381 Sanders, E. P. 3–4, 33, 36, 46, 49–50, 69, 82, 286–87, 318, 372, 382–83 Sandmel, Samuel 8, 104, 371 Sandt, Huub van de 81, 306, 338, 353, 409 371, 411 Schäfer, Peter Schaller, Berndt 68, 73 Schaser, Nicholas 461 Schearing, Linda S. 146 162 Schnabel, Eckhard J. Schnackenburg, Rudolf 152 147–48 Schniedewind, William M. Schniewind, Julius 62 352, 355 Schöpflin, Karin Schreckenberg, Heinz 8, 373 Schuller, Eileen M. 110, 131, 286, 295, 311 Schwartz, Daniel R. 82, 302 Schwartz, Joshua 82 428 Schweitzer, Albert Schweizer, Eduard 152, 337 243, 246, 434, 465 Scott, Bernard B. Scott, J. Julius 162 Segal, Alan F. 4, 30, 104, 106, 332, 377 Segal, Michael 314 Seifrid, Mark 82 Senior, Donald P. 114, 229, 348, 350, 361, 452 Setzer, Claudia 83, 330 Shuve, Karl E. 417–18, 422 30 Sigal, Phillip Sim, David C. 3, 6–7, 12, 21, 30, 68, 104– 5, 120, 162, 172, 183, 189, 191, 205, 214, 250, 299, 336, 377, 388, 408, 460 Simon, Maurice 175, 236, 355–56, 411, 418–20 Sjöberg, Erik 3 Skinner, Christopher W. 443 Skinner, Matthew L. 389



Modern Authors Index 573

Sklar, Jay 286, 290 Sloyan, Gerard S. 390 Smith, Anthony 196 Smith, Bertram T. D. 429–30, 433 Smith, Dennis E. 234 Snodgrass, Klyne R. 30, 32, 427, 439, 447 Sperber, Daniel 85 Spigel, Chad S. 60 200 Stanley, Christopher Stanton, Graham N. 6, 9, 79, 97, 104, 280, 394, 401–3, 406–7 Stark, Rodney 245, 380–82 146–148 Steck, Odil H. Stegemann, Ekkehard W. 245 279 Stegemann, Hartmut Stegemann, Wolfgang 245 427 Stein, Robert H. Sterling, Gregory E. 242 Steudel, Annette 315 Stone, Michael E. 141–42, 302 235, 237–38 Strauss, Mark L. Strecker, Georg 8, 104, 401, 407–8, 413, 417 315 Strugnell, John 19, 263–64, Stuckenbruck, Loren T. 277, 460 Swaim, Barton 450 Tabor, James D. 326 Talgam, Rina 413 Talmon, Shemaryahu 272, 318 Tannehill, Robert C. 56 62–63 Tapp, Roland W. Theophilos, Michael P. 321 82, 442 Thiessen, Matthew Thiselton, Antony C. 78 Tigchelaar, Eibert J. C. 39, 176, 271 8, 104 Tilborg, Sjef van Tisera, Guido 162 Tomson, Peter J. 82 Trevor, John C. 316 Trilling, Wolfgang 213, 221, 454 Tromp, Johannes 241, 343, 355 Troxel, Ronald L. 348–50 Tuckett, Christopher M. 63, 216, 222, 435, 443

Turner, David L. 1, 11, 16, 96–97, 105, 124, 136, 144, 146, 148, 156, 322, 341, 463 Twelftree, Graham H. 56, 58 234, 238 Tyson, Joseph B. Ulrich, Eugene 9, 62, 84, 98, 152, 154, 170–71, 203, 213, 216, 223, 235, 310–12, 316, 337, 350–51, 364, 373, 376, 385, 417, 440–41 Uro, Risto 162 Vaage, Leif E. 46 401–2, 407–8 Van Voorst, Robert E. VanderKam, James C. 312 2, 105 Varkey, Mothy Vaux, Roland de 312 Verheyden, Joseph 147, 338, 353, 364 Vermes, Geza 36, 318, 389 218, 246 Verseput, Donald J. Vetne, Reimar 142, 319 Via, Dan O. 436 Viviano, Benedict T. 63 170 Walker, Rolf Wallace, Daniel B. 139 310 Washburn, David L. Wassén, Cecilia 20, 80, 291, 460 350, 449 Waters, Kenneth L. Watts, James W. 61 Watts, Rikki E. 235 162, 246 Weaver, Dorothy J. Webb, Robert L. 216 410 Wehnert, Jürgen Weigold, Matthias 310 Weinfeld, Moshe 146 Weiss, Zeev 82, 459 Wellhausen, Julius 48, 64, 65 Wenham, David 320, 348 Wenham, John W. 350 Weren, Wim J. C. 222, 338, 353, 364, 368 Werman, Cana 318 Werrett, Ian C. 294, 296, 301 Wheeler-Reed, David 34 White, Benjamin L. 190, 192 Willitts, Joel 6, 12, 99, 104, 119, 121, 217, 248

574

Modern Authors Index

Wilson, Stephen G. 58, 126 Winandy, Jacques 124 Winston, David 331, 372 Winter, Paul 389 Wischnitzer-Bernstein, Rachel 358 Wise, Michael O. 314–15, 326 34, 82, 451 Witherington, Ben, III Witherup, Ronald D. 348, 350–51 146–47 Wolff, Hans W. Woude, Adam S. van der 272 Wright, N. T. 49–50, 100, 290, 292, 313, 330–32, 348, 360, 362, 437–38, 446 Yadin, Yigael 195–97, 272 Yarbro Collins, Adela 319 195 Yardeni, Ada Zahavy, Tzvee 45 450 Zauzmer, Julie Zeichmann, Christopher B. 254 410, 412, 414, Zellentin, Holger M. 419–21 Zetterholm, Karin Hedner 3, 23, 133, 465 Zetterholm, Magnus 2 , 107, 409, 450 Zimmerli, Walther 352