Reading the Synoptic Gospels: Basic Methods for Interpreting Matthew, Mark, and Luke [1 ed.] 9780827232273, 9780827232259

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BIBLE

ISBN 978-0-827232-25-9

9 780827 232259

O. Wesley Allen, Jr.

D

E

R

ALLEN

O. WESLEY ALLEN, JR. is the associate professor of homiletics and worship at Lexington Theological Seminary. An ordained United Methodist elder, he has served as a pastor and campus minister. He has written several books, including Preaching and Reading the Lectionary.

Basic Methods for Interpreting Matthew, Mark, and Luke

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“Unlike books that merely present the fruits of modern research on the synoptic gospels, this book enables students to reach their own conclusions about any given text in the gospels. With a refreshing style that strikes a balance between depth and clarity, O. Wesley Allen, Jr., introduces the student to basic research tools, terminology, methods, and modes of analysis employed in the critical study of the gospels. The book may be highly recommended as a textbook for students at any level.” ■ Allen Kerkeslager, St. Joseph’s University

Reading the Synoptic Gospels EX

“Reading the Synoptic Gospels is best described as exegesis in action. Whereas most exegetical guidebooks tell the interpreter what steps to follow in the interpretation of biblical texts, this book actually goes through each step with and for the reader— finding parallel passages, looking up words, helping the beginning student to discover what it feels like actually to interpret a biblical text from a careful and close reading.” ■ Gail R. O’Day, School of Divinity, Wake Forest University

Reading the Synoptic Gospels

This revised and expanded text introduces students of the Bible to the layers of meaning that can be uncovered by serious study of the synoptic gospel texts. Two new chapters present ideological exegetical approaches to the gospels, and a concluding chapter helps the student synthesize the exegetical discoveries they have made using the methods taught in the book.

EVIS E AND PAN D

Reading the Synoptic Gospels

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Reading the Synoptic Gospels Basic Methods for Interpreting Matthew, Mark, and Luke Revised and Expanded

O. Wesley Allen Jr.

Copyright ©2013 by O. Wesley Allen Jr. All rights reserved. For permission to reuse content, please contact Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA, 01923, (978) 750-8400, www.copyright. com. Bible quotations, unless otherwise marked, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989, Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked (NIV) are taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved. Scripture texts in this work are taken from the New American Bible, revised edition © 2010, 1991, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Washington, D.C. and are used by permission of the copyright owner. All Rights Reserved. No part of the New American Bible may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the copyright owner. Cover art: Simone Cantarini, detail of “Saint Matthew and the Angel,” gift of James Belden in memory of Evelyn Berry Belden. Photograph ˝ 1999 Board of Trustees, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. Cover design: Scott Tjaden

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For my daughter Maggie

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Contents Preface to the Second Edition

viii

Preface to the First Edition

x

Introduction: How Hard Can It Be?

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1. Establishing the Pericope, Text, and Plain Sense

10

Excursus 1: Development of the Synoptic Gospels

27

2. Social and Historical Background

30

3. Literary Background

40

4. Form and Function

54

Excursus 2: Conventional Forms

71

5. Theological Editing

77

6. Narrative Reading

108

Excursus 3: Select Literary Terms for Narrative Exegesis

124

7. The Experience of the Implied Reader

131

8. Reading for Ideology

143

9. Synthesizing Exegetical Observations for a Unified Reading

159

Preface to the Second Edition When I first wrote Reading the Synoptic Gospels a decade ago, I wrote primarily for the undergraduate classroom. The goal was to supplement introductory studies in the New Testament that focused on history and content with an accessible introduction to critical tools for reading the gospels so that students could learn to interpret the texts on their own. To my surprise, the book was adopted as a textbook by seminary as well as undergraduate professors. Feedback I received indicated the approach I offered and the narrow focus on the gospels (as opposed to an introduction to exegesis that covered the full range of biblical materials) worked well as a first step into the landscape of critical exegesis that could be built upon in later courses moving into either other parts of the Bible or more complicated exegetical and hermeneutical approaches to the biblical text. The use of the book in the arena of theological studies, however, calls for the addition of two elements I neglected when I planned the book for the undergraduate environment. First is a chapter introducing ideological exegetical approaches to the gospels. This was left out of the first edition, not because it was considered unimportant, but because of its complexity. Put simply, I was afraid that a chapter summarizing the wide variety of these sorts of approaches would be more confusing than helpful in an undergraduate introduction to New Testament. I may have been wrong about this, but, certainly in theological education, ideological hermeneutical concerns of the sorts found in New Testament studies are found across the theological disciplines. Thus theology students engaging the concepts in this book will also be engaging them throughout their curriculum. Second is a concluding chapter that helps the student synthesize the exegetical discoveries they have made using the methods taught in the book. This was avoided in the first edition viii

Preface to the Second Edition ix because we, the publisher and I, imagined such diversity in the way professors would ask students to demonstrate what they discovered exegetically (especially the difference between those teaching in religious and those in secular settings) that anything I offered might limit the book’s usefulness in this or that setting. With the intention of revising the material to be more useful in the world of theological education along with undergraduate settings, however, the book is incomplete without offering the students some guidance in using the exegetical work they have done in producing a reading for themselves, for course assignments, or for communication in other settings, such as the church. This chapter will, nevertheless, be suggestive for such production more than it will present a method as offered in the earlier chapters, leaving room for the professor’s voice to be stronger here and for the student interpreter’s creativity to be directed without being controlled. These two concluding chapters are the primary additions to the book, but the earlier chapters have also been revised here and there, with the references to resources and suggested readings being updated, and the discussion expanded where appropriate. I am grateful to Russ White and Chalice Press’s interest in issuing a revised and expanded version of Reading the Synoptic Gospels, and for their support in the production of both editions. Also, the work has been improved through my engagement of the subject matter with students and colleagues at DePauw University, Drew Theological School, and Lexington Theological Seminary since the publication of the first edition. Specifically I wish to thank colleagues at LTS who served as conversation partners for me, reviewing new material being added to the book and making helpful suggestions—Emily Askew, Rich Weis, and Jerry Sumney.

Preface to the First Edition Most undergraduate New Testament introduction textbooks and courses have to spend so much time explaining what the New Testament says, and the context in which its works were originally written, that almost no time is left to teach the exegetical process of reading the New Testament. Students learn about critical issues dealing with the study of the historical Jesus or the theology of Paul, but are rarely given the necessary tools to continue the critical, interpretive process on their own. I have written this book out of a belief that it is important for students being introduced to a critical reading of the Bible to also be introduced to the methodology of critically reading the Bible for themselves. Therefore, this work is not in itself an introduction to the full range of gospel studies, but is intended to serve as a text supplementing a broader introductory study of the gospels or the New Testament in the classroom or church. Many people have helped in the shaping and production of this work. First and foremost are the students I have encountered at Candler School of Theology at Emory University, Georgia State University, Interdenominational Theological Center, Georgia Institute of Technology, and DePauw University. They have been generous in their feedback as this material was tested in lecture, seminar, and manuscript forms. A special thanks needs to be expressed to Roy Wells at Birmingham-Southern College. He not only read the manuscript and offered scholarly advice that made the work much better, he tested the material on Synoptic Gospels classes, and was able to offer practical advice. Many have offered aid in the actual writing and production of the book and deserve recognition. They have helped raise the quality of the book in significant ways. Two seminary students who have been especially helpful in proofreading and offering critical suggestions are Matthew McLaughlin (Boston University) and Bryan Brooks (Emory University)—I have tried to honor them x

Preface to the First Edition xi appropriately later in the book. Two colleagues and friends at DePauw who have assisted in the final editing and production of the text are Bob Eccles and Deborah Chew. And, of course, I could not appreciate more the support, encouragement, and patience I have received from the Chalice Press staff, especially David Polk. I must also acknowledge that if there is anything in this book worth sharing with students of the New Testament, it is, to a great degree, due to the quality education I received at the hands of biblical scholars at Birmingham-Southern College, Yale Divinity School, and Emory University. They taught me not only how to interpret scripture but also why to interpret scripture. I hope this book in some way measures up to the example of excellence they set for me. And, finally and most importantly, for supporting me as I toiled and for pushing me when I did not toil hard enough, I am most thankful to and for my wife, Bonnie Cook.

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Introduction How Hard Can It Be? Anyone who has ever attended a Bible study or listened to a sermon is likely to have heard the expression, “What this scripture passage means to me is…” Is it any wonder then that the common assumption among readers of the Bible is that the meaning of scripture is easily accessible? The impression given is that all that is required to interpret any passage is reading and personal reflection. A scriptural passage may have other meanings for other people, but it means this “to me.” In such a view of scripture the author, or perhaps God, is seen as speaking directly to the contemporary reader in a manner and with a message that is easily discernible. This book is dedicated to the idea that layers of meanings in the biblical writings are indeed accessible to anyone who is willing to read them, but also on the recognition that there is nothing simple or easy about uncovering those layers of meaning. Interpreting texts with depth is hard work. Reading must give way to study. Reflection must incorporate research. The meanings in any piece of literature (including the biblical writings) that are worth discovering, expounding, and claiming as one’s own are rarely those found at the surface level of a first reading. One must search over and over again to find the true treasures hidden in such a field of meaning.

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2 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Or, to shift metaphors slightly, an interpreter must approach a biblical text as an archaeologist approaches a dig, slowly and carefully removing layer after layer of soil to find artifacts that have been buried for centuries. The excavator must be careful not to damage the ancient artifacts in the process. Imagine an archaeological site at which are found, twenty feet below the surface, remnants from late Byzantine times. Thirty feet down are found remains from the first century c.e. (Common Era). Fortyfive feet down, evidence of a third century b.c.e. (Before the Common Era), pre–Roman Empire civilization is found. And so on. If one had never dug, the only experience of the site would have been that of a grassy mound—a pleasant enough but mundane experience. Only by meticulously digging deeper and deeper in stages is one able to experience the full history and significance of the place and be changed in the process. Interpretation of a biblical passage is likewise an attempt to uncover various layers of meaning by carefully researching the passage using a variety of methods. This takes time and work, but is worth the effort when an old, familiar passage is found to be filled with new and different meanings than had been previously recognized. Exegesis In an “Introduction to the Old Testament” course at Yale Divinity School, Professor Brevard Childs was assigning a paper in which students were to interpret a passage from Genesis. After describing what we students believed to be the most important elements of the assignment—how many pages were required, what size margins were expected, the number of sources to be consulted, and when it was due—Professor Childs offered one last caveat. To paraphrase: “To interpret scripture better, you must become a deeper person.” The saying is true. The ability to discover the depth of meanings in the Bible is in direct correlation with the intellectual, emotional, and spiritual depth of the readers themselves. For people of the Book the reverse is also true: To become a deeper person, you must interpret scripture better. When people of

Introduction 3 faith read scripture, they do not do so primarily as literary critics or historians, nor do they read simply to be entertained. People of faith read scripture as part of their search to correct and expand their view of the world, of self, and of that which is Ultimate, because, in their faith stance, they have granted scripture some sort of an authoritative voice in this search. A surface reading of scripture is unable to bring about a true transformation or expansion of one’s views of reality. Simply reading for “what this means to me” is little more than license to import the views we already hold into the text. This is like archaeologists who find an ancient oil lamp and, based on their own modern cultural experience, claim, “It looks like an ashtray to us.” Reading scripture in this fashion is often derisively called eisegesis (pronounced īs-uh-jee-sis) from the Greek, meaning “to lead (ago) into (eis).” Traditionally, the process of discovering meaning below the surface in biblical texts has been referred to as exegesis (pronounced ex-uh-jee-sis). The Greek root of exegesis means “to lead (ago) out (ex).” Exegesis consists of using methods of reading (i.e., asking certain types of questions) to draw deeper meanings out of the text and to avoid forcing meaning into the text. The person seeking an informed interpretation of texts will want to use exegetical (pronounced ex-uh-jeh-ti-kuhl) methods to structure the experience of a biblical passage. No matter what critical, exegetical methodologies we use, however, we should not buy into an illusion that our reading is an objective interpretation. Every reading is subjective in the sense that the way we use interpretive methodologies is shaped by who we are and why we are interpreting a text. (1) Who we are: Am I reading as a person of faith, a scholar interested in historically significant documents, or simply someone interested in ancient literature? How do my gender, socio-economic status, and ethnicity bias the way I read? What communities have influenced the way I read: ecclesiastical, educational, geographical, and so on? How does my twenty-first century, scientific, modern or postmodern worldview influence

4 Reading the Synoptic Gospels my response to ancient, prescientific religious texts? What kind of political being am I, and what presuppositions does that orientation carry with it? (2) Why we are interpreting: Is this process meant to inform personal religious devotion? Am I interpreting a biblical passage on behalf of or to be communicated to others (e.g., a Sunday school class, congregation, college seminar, or professor)? Am I a student presenting an interpretation to be graded by a teacher? Or am I an “authority” figure (such as a preacher or teacher) offering my interpretation to a group for instruction? How will my interpretation be presented to these others (e.g., lecture, dialogue, or written essay)? Regardless of who we are and why we are interpreting a passage, using exegetical methodologies helps to keep our subjective tendencies in check. An interpretation will always be my interpretation, but my interpretation will be informed by critical, exegetical principles shared by others. Scope of This Introduction Everyone who has ever read a part of the Bible has played the role of interpreter. Exegesis has primarily been an exercise reserved for scholars and clergy (although clergy often forget the emphasis placed on exegesis in their seminary training and revert to eisegesis in their preaching and teaching). To narrow the gap between the Church and the Academy, this volume introduces those exegetical methods prevalent in the academic setting that are most accessible and most useful to new students of exegesis. The methods presented here are by no means all the methods biblical scholars use in their study. Other methods, however, require a level of sophisticated engagement with linguistic, historical, literary, and ideological theories that is beyond the scope of this introduction. Moreover, the methods introduced in this book can and should be studied in greater depth, mastered with greater proficiency, and used in conjunction with the study of biblical languages. This book is simply an attempt to offer students their first feel of the archaeologist’s tools in their hands

Introduction 5 so that they will have some of the skills necessary to begin digging deeper into biblical texts. Each method we introduce approaches biblical texts from a different perspective and thus investigates different layers of meaning in those texts. Nevertheless, these methods overlap, as do the layers of meaning they investigate. Therefore, we view the individual methods not as ends in and of themselves, but as interlinking steps in a process of interpretation. (Indeed, as one becomes more proficient and comfortable with exegesis, these steps will become merged into a more cohesive, less mechanistic process than presented in this introduction.) The goal of the exegetical process is to develop one’s own informed, holistic interpretation of a biblical passage for a particular context and purpose. The way we read a text is determined in part by the type of material it represents. For instance, we do not study a newspaper the way we do a course textbook. We do not ponder its use of language the way we do poetry. We do not read it from beginning to end the way we do narrative. Likewise, we do not use identical methods when we read and interpret gospels, legal material, psalms, letters, proverbs, apocalypses, or prophetic oracles from the Bible. To introduce exegetical methods appropriate for all these types of biblical literature runs the risk of losing the focus of the interpretive process from beginning to end. Therefore, to keep our study manageable, we will examine exegetical methods as they are applied to the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke). The word synoptic comes from the Greek, meaning “seeing” (optic) “together/alike” (syn). The first three gospels are given this label because they look so much alike in terms of content, structure, and style (in contrast to John). These similarities (for reasons discussed later in the book) invite certain kinds of methodologies to be used exegetically. This focus on the Synoptics does not mean, however, that none of the skills learned in this study can be transferred to the task of interpreting other biblical texts. Many of the exegetical steps described in this book can be applied to, or are easily adapted

6 Reading the Synoptic Gospels to be used with, other biblical texts, especially other narrative materials. Still, they are described here as they specifically apply to the synoptic materials. To focus our study even more sharply, we will illustrate the way the various methods work by applying each one to a single synoptic gospel passage instead of discussing the methods in relation to different passages or to the gospels in general. Our example passage is Matthew 12:46–50: While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him. 47 Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” 48But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 50For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” 46

By observing each method being applied to this single passage, we will be able to learn how the various methods work together and build on one another. Additional Resources Because most people who put their hands to the task of interpreting scripture do not have a theological library at their disposal, this study has been designed to introduce exegetical methodology that can be followed with minimal resources. But resources are needed. For the beginning student of gospel exegesis, the following are recommended: Bible: Many biblical translations and editions exist. Looking for an edition well-suited for exegesis narrows our choices. We need a translation that keeps a sound balance between being readable (i.e., translates the biblical languages into current idiomatic English—referred to as dynamic equivalence) and being close to the original language of the texts (i.e., maintains the flavor of the ancient world and thought—referred to as formal correspondence). We need a recent edi-

Introduction 7 tion that has used the most up-to-date biblical scholarship in its translation process. Finally, it is helpful to have a volume that is annotated with short introductory and explanatory notes. The translation I recommend is the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV). The specific study Bible referenced in the chapters to follow is The HarperCollins Study Bible, edited by Harold W. Attridge (New York: HarperCollins, 2006). In this edition, scholars who are members of the largest guild of English-speaking biblical scholars (the Society of Biblical Literature [SBL]) have written introductions and notes for each biblical and apocryphal work. Synopsis: A synopsis is a book that lays Matthew, Mark, and Luke (and sometimes John) side by side in parallel columns. This allows us to compare and contrast more easily the outlines and structures of the gospels in their entirety, as well as the content of their individual passages. We recommend and use in this introduction Gospel Parallels, edited by Burton H. Throckmorton Jr. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1992), especially since it uses the NRSV. Analytical Concordance: A concordance is an index listing the occurrence of every word in the Bible. The problem with English concordances is that they index the English translation. If one looks up “love” in an English concordance, one has no way to know which of the several Greek words meaning love is being represented. Analytical concordances overcome this problem by indicating Greek and Hebrew vocabulary being translated. These are more difficult to use, but the profit is usually higher. In the chapters that follow, we will use The Analytical Concordance to the New Revised Standard Version of the New Testament, edited by John R. Kohlenberger III and Richard Whitaker (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000). Numerous biblical computer programs can perform word searches, offer differing translations, provide Bible dictionary and commentary information, and much more.

8 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Commentaries: Students in an undergraduate or theological school that offers biblical courses will certainly have commentaries on individual biblical works available in their libraries. Theological students need to identify and purchase critical commentaries on the gospels for their personal libraries. I leave recommendations for such commentaries to your professors. However, a one-volume commentary is an invaluable resource for beginning interpreters because it has notes on every piece of the Bible. The most recent quality one-volume commentary available at the time of this writing is The New Interpreter’s One-Volume Commentary, edited by Beverly Roberts Gaventa and David L. Petersen (Nashville: Abingdon, 2010). Bible Dictionary: Bible dictionaries are encyclopedic reference works that contain short essays on subject matters ranging from A to Z: Antioch, cubit, gestures, John, the Lord’s Prayer, Passover, scroll, virtue, zealot… The best critical multi-volume dictionaries that should be available in your school’s library are The New Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, edited by Katharine Doob Sakenfeld (Nashville: Abingdon, 2006–09) and The Anchor Bible Dictionary (New York: Doubleday, 1992). Theological students should purchase one of these sets for their personal, post-seminary libraries. Sets such as these can be expensive, so a good way to start is to get a one-volume Bible dictionary. Many of the entries will be far too brief for detailed exegesis, however. The best recent one-volume dictionary is HarperCollins Bible Dictionary, rev. & updated—3rd ed., edited by Mark Allan Powell (New York: Harper Collins, 2011). For readers interested in moving beyond the introductory level of this book, we have provided suggestions for further reading at the end of each chapter.

Introduction 9 For Further Reading Baird, William. “Biblical Criticism.” In Anchor Bible Dictionary, edited by David Noel Freedman, 1.725–36. New York: Doubleday, 1992. Gorman, Michael J., “The Task,” and “Tables of Exegetical Methods.” In Elements of Biblical Exegesis: A Basic Guide, rev. & expanded, 9–34, 233–40. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2009. Hayes, John H., and Carl R. Holladay. “Introducing Exegesis.” In Biblical Exegesis: A Beginner’s Handbook, 3rd ed., 1–33. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2007. Stuart, Douglas. “Exegesis.” In Anchor Bible Dictionary, edited by David Noel Freedman, 2.682–88. New York: Doubleday, 1992.

Chapter 1 Establishing the Pericope, Text, and Plain Sense The Gospel of Luke opens with a prologue that offers us some insight into the manner in which the gospel writers went about their task: Since many have undertaken to set down an orderly account of the events that have been fulfilled among us, 2just as they were handed on to us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word, 3I too decided, after investigating everything carefully from the very first, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, 4so that you may know the truth concerning the things about which you have been instructed. (Lk. 1:1–4) 1

The author claims to have researched events in Christ’s life by exploring various accounts of those events—his sources are (1) eyewitnesses, (2) servants of the word, and (3) many orderly accounts (i.e., other gospels)—and then to have arranged his rendition of those events into an orderly account of his own. Assuming Luke is representative, the way the synoptic gospel writers operated was to collect short accounts of stories, sayings, and dialogues of Jesus Christ and paste them together into a larger narrative. (For a brief introduction to the stages of development of the Synoptic Gospels, see Excursus 1 following this chapter.) The most elementary section of the gospel text on which an interpreter focuses, therefore, is one of these short accounts of an individual event or saying. 10

Establishing the Pericope, Text, and Plain Sense 11 Establishing the Pericope Gospel scholars call one of these discrete passages a pericope (plural pericopes or pericopae). The word is pronounced “puh-rikuh-pē” (not “periscope” without the “s,” the way many think it is pronounced the first time they see the word in print—and the way word processor spell-checkers want to correct it). The Greek root of pericope means “something cut” (koptein) “all around” (peri). Therefore, a pericope is an isolated passage (a narrative scene or a piece of discourse) that can easily be cut out of the wider narrative in which it is embedded in order to be examined closely. A pericope has an identifiable beginning and end and possesses a unified topic, theme, or logic. If we are going to interpret a single pericope, the first step in preparing the surface before digging for meaning is establishing the boundaries of our dig. Often the scope of a pericope is intuitively evident, but in some incidences the gospel writers have done such a good job pasting the various pericopes together into a unified narrative that it is difficult to determine where one passage ends and the next begins. We must be careful not to trust either the verse divisions (which were not added to the New Testament until 1551 c.e.) or the text divisions and headings provided by modern translators (much less boundaries set by lectionaries). Such modern divisions may or may not correspond correctly to the breaks between pericopes. Therefore, we must rely on transition indicators provided by the gospel writers themselves. We will find three types of such indicators. The first is a change in setting. When a new scene is introduced, the narrator will often indicate that time has lapsed and/or that Jesus is now in a new location. Sometimes both time and place changes will be present, and other times only one. A pericope may begin with a change in time even though it is located in the same place as the previous scene, or vice versa. To illustrate the identification of these changes in setting, let’s turn to Mark 1:9–20. We have printed the text without verse or paragraph divisions so that our first approach to the text is not prejudiced. We should walk through the text, identifying every indication of time or place

12 Reading the Synoptic Gospels and analyzing whether those found represent a shift in scene. We have marked the indicators in bold and commented to the right: In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him. Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

This scene opens with a time indicator (“in those days”) that loosely connects this scene with the previous one (John preaching at the Jordan). The opening also describes Jesus’ movement from one place (where no events are described) to another (where the scene that follows is narrated). The use of “immediately” makes it clear that what follows is intimately connected with what precedes and does not indicate a shift, but the change in place (from “the Jordan” to “the wilderness”) indicates a new scene begins. The time indicator sets Jesus’ new action in relation to John’s previous actions, and the place indicator returns Jesus to Galilee, but not necessarily Nazareth. This place indicator specifies where in Galilee this scene takes place, whereas the previous setting was more general. Again “immediately” marks continuity, and since there is no shift in location, there is no new pericope at this point or the next occurrence of immediately. “Went a little farther” still keeps Jesus passing along the Sea of Galilee, so this phrase does not indicate a change in setting, but movement within the same setting.

The second indicator of a division between pericopes is a change in characters. Jesus is, of course, the main character in

Establishing the Pericope, Text, and Plain Sense 13 the gospels and thus present in most scenes. But the person(s) whom Jesus is observing, healing, or teaching, or with whom he is in dialogue or conflict change rapidly. Let’s consider Mark 1:9–20 again to see how this category of indicators (marked below in italics) appears. To see how this category complements the changes in setting that we have already noted, we have made paragraph breaks at the changes of setting and left the bold print in place: In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him. Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

The previous passage focused on John, but in this scene John and Jesus meet.

The Spirit is introduced, but the heavenly voice takes center stage.

The Spirit acts again and leads Jesus to meet another character— Satan.

A reference back to John (offstage) removes him from the narrative altogether. Jesus is the only character in this scene (except Jesus’ implied audience).

The scene shifts from Jesus’ being alone to his meeting Simon and Andrew.

Although new characters are introduced, Jesus’ action toward James and John is identical to his action toward Simon and Andrew. Thus, this is still part of the same scene.

14 Reading the Synoptic Gospels The third indicator one can use to determine the beginning and/or end of a pericope is a change of theme, topic, or issue being addressed. This type of change can be much less obvious than the first two. Still, it is important to consider these sorts of changes, for sometimes there will be no change in setting or characters even though the text under consideration may best be understood as comprising more than one pericope. Consider, for instance, the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5:1—7:29. For three chapters Matthew presents Jesus as speaking without interruption. There is no change of setting or characters, but clearly this section of text is not a single pericope. Matthew has collected numerous short units of Jesus’ teachings and pasted them together into a single sermon. The basis on which they are collected together is a similarity of themes, topics, vocabulary, and so forth. But similar elements are not the same thing as identical elements. For example, the pericopes in Matthew 6:19–34 (a subsection of the Sermon on the Mount) are primarily related to the issue of material possessions. They do not, however, all approach the issue in the same way. Let us consider again our example from Mark 1:9–20. Topic and theme indicators are underlined, while the bold and italics markers remain. In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.

This scene is an epiphany in which Jesus, through his baptism, is anointed as God’s Son.

God’s claiming Jesus as God’s Son is followed by a seemingly opposite theme—conflict with Satan.

Establishing the Pericope, Text, and Plain Sense 15 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

Jesus’ victory over Satan is implied as the scene shifts to a summary of the content of Jesus’ preaching.

Having summarized Jesus’ preaching, the narrator shifts to focus on the calling of Jesus’ first disciples.

Unlike Mark 1:9–20, not every scene change in the Synoptic Gospels is accompanied by setting, character, and theme indicators. Thus, it is important always to examine all three in establishing the boundaries of a pericope. Establishing the Text Once we have established the pericope, we are ready to turn our attention to the text of the passage itself. We do not have autographed copies of the gospels. In other words, no original manuscripts of Matthew, Mark, or Luke exist. Since there were no printing presses in the first centuries of the Common Era, professional scribes had the task of copying books by hand for publication. This method, of course, leaves much room for human error. Moreover, when these books first began to be circulated among first-century Christian communities, they were highly valued but were not yet honored as canonical scripture. Thus, scribes felt free to make changes in the texts they were copying.

16 Reading the Synoptic Gospels They might clean up the style, clarify the meaning of an ambiguous sentence, harmonize one gospel account of an event with that found in another gospel, or even change something in the text they did not like. Usually the changes were minor rewordings, but some copies of the gospels include major omissions, additions, or changes. The fact that the first typeset copy of the Bible did not appear until the mid-fifteenth century means that for more than fourteen centuries scribes were copying the gospels by hand, making numerous mistakes and at times changing the text intentionally (though intentional alterations happened much more rarely after the gospels were canonized). Moreover, the scribes were copying manuscripts that were copies of copies that already contained errors and changes. And so on, and so forth. The result is that we have more than 5,300 Greek manuscripts of the New Testament (or parts of it) with tens of thousands of textual variants—disagreements among manuscripts concerning wording, inclusion of pericopes, and so forth. Biblical scholars must compare and contrast these variants as they attempt to make educated guesses concerning the original wording of the text. This process of discerning the original script is called text criticism. The scholars who translated the New Testament for the NRSV have already done mountains of text critical work for their English readers. We are never even aware of most of the textual choices they make on our behalf because the choices are so clear-cut that they need no comment—most mistakes made by scribes are blatant errors. Nevertheless, textual variants that seem to be the result of intentional changes do not always have clear-cut solutions. When two or more variants seem plausible as original wording, the NRSV translators describe the alternative to their choice in a footnote. At this point, we have to accept the choice made by the translators or opt for the alternate reading. We should be careful not to choose the reading we like the best, but the one we are convinced is closest to the original. These are

Establishing the Pericope, Text, and Plain Sense 17 difficult choices to make, especially for English readers, because we are not (and cannot be) fully informed. But English readers are not completely at the mercy of the NRSV translators. There are two things we can and should do. The first thing we do when considering such textual variants is to try to imagine why a scribe changed the text. We must assume that the scribe was trying to improve the text. This rationale means that the more problematic variant should usually be considered the more original reading. A major example involves the ending to Mark. Several families of manuscripts have very different endings to this gospel. The manuscripts agree through 16:1–8. In the first seven verses of this pericope, the women who come to anoint Jesus’ body find the tomb empty, are told of Jesus’ resurrection, and are instructed to go tell his disciples to meet Jesus in Galilee. Then verse 8 reads, So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

Some manuscripts end here, while others continue, narrating appearances of the risen Jesus. When considering whether we think the text originally ended at 16:8 or continued, we must ask of each variant: Why would a scribe have added or omitted this? It is easy to see why scribes would have found the ending at verse 8 problematic. If Mark ends at 16:8, it means that this gospel has no resurrection appearances like the other gospels and, even more importantly, seems to end with a tone of despair as the women’s fear gets in the way of the disciples’ learning of Jesus’ resurrection and meeting him in Galilee. Thus, the rationale that the more problematic variant is usually the more original reading would lead us to argue that the Gospel of Mark originally ended at 16:8, and the other endings were later additions. Indeed, most New Testament scholars agree that Mark’s original ending was 16:8. On the other hand, the rule of accepting the most difficult reading as the most original can be overemphasized. In some

18 Reading the Synoptic Gospels instances, the more difficult variant might have been made by a scribe who misunderstood the pericope. The second thing we can do when considering textual variants is to compare how different translations handle the textual issue. This step will help us test our hypothesis concerning why a scribe would have added, omitted, or changed a piece of text. If most translations we check agree with the choice of the NRSV, then we can feel comfortable following that choice. If they do not, we must rely more heavily on our own hypothesis. A final step is needed in establishing our text. It is important that English interpreters keep themselves aware of the fact that they are reading a translation. Not only have translators made many choices for us concerning problems with the Greek manuscripts, they have also made many choices concerning problems with the Greek language. The act of translation is not a mathematical process in which this Greek word = that English word. Word order is used differently in the two languages to make emphasis. Many words have several possible nuances or even radically different meanings depending on how they are used. Some words in one language do not have an equivalent in the other. For instance, Greek has a verb form of faith. The English translator must choose whether to translate this verb as believe or trust or have faith, knowing all the time that no English expression really matches the Greek meaning perfectly. All this is to say that translation itself is a form of interpretation. Before moving ahead with our exegesis, therefore, we need to establish the translation we will use. In this book, we have chosen to use the NRSV as our primary translation, but our loyalty is to the gospel we are interpreting, not to the translation we are reading. Therefore, we may need to adjust the English vocabulary at points in the pericope. The NRSV itself provides the starting point for evaluating the translation. The translators offer a note when they see ambiguity of which they feel English readers should be aware. We should also compare the NRSV with other English translations. If we find

Establishing the Pericope, Text, and Plain Sense 19 that other translations agree with each other against the NRSV or use language that flows better or makes better sense, we may need to substitute wording for part of our pericope. More than looking for slight linguistic variations, we want to note only those differences between translations that change the sense of a sentence or pericope in a significant way. In other words, style is not the issue for exegesis; meaning is. Two good translations with which to compare the NRSV’s text critical and translation choices are the New International Version (NIV) and the New American Bible, Revised Edition (NABRE). All three are critical versions shaped by committees of biblical scholars, but the NRSV is the favorite choice among mainline Protestant churches and schools, the NIV is generally the choice of evangelicals, and the NABRE is authorized by the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops. Thus similar critical approaches to the biblical text combined with different theological orientations will offer the exegete helpful points of comparison. Establishing the Plain Sense Once the pericope’s boundaries have been defined, and the text and translation have been chosen, only one surface issue remains before we move deeper in our interpretation. It is important to understand fully the plain sense of the pericope. Do I understand every single thing that is happening or is said in this passage? What is dropsy? Is Caesarea a city, a region, or a country? How much money is a denarius? Before attempting to understand the significance of a pericope, one must be sure to understand (at the surface level) all the vocabulary and references in the pericope. To do this, interpreters simply need to look up any ambiguous elements of the content in a dictionary, encyclopedia, or Bible dictionary. Once the pericope, the text, and the plain sense have all been established, the interpreter is ready to dig deeper into the text. Let’s examine how these preparatory steps work on our example pericope.

20 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Example: Matthew 12:46–50

Establishing the Pericope We begin by determining the limits of our passage. Does the pericope begin at verse 46 and end at verse 50 as we have designated, or does it need to be expanded or shortened? Backing up to 12:38, we find scribes and Pharisees addressing Jesus. He begins his response in verse 39. Jesus continues in direct speech through verse 45. In verse 46, the narrator speaks again (for the first time since verse 38): While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him.

The introductory phrase in this sentence (“while he was still speaking”) indicates that there has been no change of setting. The event that is about to be described happens in the same place and time as that which has just been described. The phrase “his mother and brothers,” however, does introduce new characters. The focus is no longer on the crowd (i.e., the scribes and Pharisees), but on Jesus’ family. Thus, a new pericope does indeed begin at verse 46. In verse 47 “someone” tells Jesus his family is present. Jesus’ response to this news begins in verse 48 and ends in verse 50. Then in 13:1 the narrator states, “That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea.” This sentence begins with a time referent (“That same day”) that emphasizes both continuity and discontinuity with that which preceded. The implication of the phrase is that what follows is set on the same day as (continuity) but at a later time than (discontinuity) the dialogue with the scribes and Pharisees and the discussion concerning Jesus’ family. In addition to this change in time, a change in place is indicated by Jesus’ movement from “the house” to “the sea.” The change of setting marked by a change of both time and place indicates that verse 50 is the end of the pericope. Therefore, the full pericope we will investigate is Matthew 12:46–50.

Establishing the Pericope, Text, and Plain Sense 21 This delineation of the boundaries is confirmed by noting the shift in themes/topics. In 12:38–45 the text deals with the request for a sign from Jesus. In 13:1ff., Jesus begins teaching the crowds by using various parables. Our pericope deals with Jesus’ family.

Establishing the Text Now that we have determined the limits of our pericope, we must establish the text itself, which includes issues related to both manuscript transmission and translation from Greek into English. Our starting point for doing this is reflection on any footnotes offered by the NRSV. There are two in this passage. The first is in verse 47, which reads, Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.”

The NRSV footnote at the end of this verse says, “Other ancient authorities lack verse 47.” This means either that some scribes deleted this sentence from the pericope or that some added it to the pericope. The NRSV translators’ decision to include the sentence shows that they think some scribes deleted it, and thus the original text included the verse. The fact that they noted that the sentence is missing from some manuscripts, however, means that there is significant evidence for the other choice. We ask why or how such an addition or omission could have been made. The repetition in language in all of the verses could account for an error of omission. On the other hand, the more difficult reading is the omission of the verse because verse 48 assumes someone has spoken to Jesus. We are not on very solid ground accounting for the variant by imagining scribal practice in this case. Thus we turn to other translations to test the NRSV’s decision. Here are the NIV and NABRE versions of the passage set up parallel to the NRSV:

22 Reading the Synoptic Gospels NIV While Jesus was still talking to the crowd, his mother and brothers stood outside, wanting to speak to him. 47 Someone told him, “Your mother and brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.”a 48 He replied to him, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49Pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers. 50For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” 46

Some manuscripts do not have verse 47.

a

NRSV

NABRE

46

While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him. 47 Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” a 48But to the one who had told him this, Jesusb replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 50For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”

While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers appeared outside, wishing to speak with him. 47[Someone told him, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, asking to speak with you.”] a 48 But he said in reply to the one who told him, “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?” 49 And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers. 50For whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother, and sister, and mother.”

Other ancient authorities lack verse 47. b Gk he.

a This verse is omitted in some important textual witnesses, including Codex Sinaiticus (original reading) and Codex Vaticanus.

a

46

The NIV’s decision is exactly the same as the NRSV’s: the translators include the sentence because they think some scribes later deleted as opposed to added it. The fact that they noted that the sentence is missing from some manuscripts, however,

Establishing the Pericope, Text, and Plain Sense 23 means that there is significant evidence for the other choice. The NABRE goes a step further in raising questions about the originality of the sentence. The translators include the verse in the main text but enclose it in brackets and note that some manuscripts (including the one they consider to be the “original reading”) do not include this verse. This translation, therefore, assumes the verse does not belong in the original text but is not so certain as to omit it altogether. The difference in certainty between the three is more a matter of degree than disagreement. All three consider the inclusion of the verse shaky enough to alert the reader, but think there is enough evidence for it being original to include it in the main text. While beginning exegetes cannot be certain about such a difficult text critical issue, they are in good company in keeping the sentence in the established text. Moreover, while the verse adds somewhat of a dramatic element of someone reporting to Jesus that his family has arrived at the house and is outside wishing to speak with him, it does not change the sense of the passage much from the information already included in verse 46. And finally, as noted above, the wording of verse 48 (“But to the one who had told him…” NRSV) presumes an individual has told him about his family being outside, tipping the scales a little further towards the inclusion of the verse. Therefore, we will keep the verse in our pericope as we move forward. A second footnote in the NRSV demands consideration as we establish our text. This note appears in verse 48. The word “Jesus” is marked with a note reading, “Gk he.” This simply means that the translators have substituted “Jesus” for the pronoun “he” to make unambiguous who is speaking. This is a common practice of the NRSV, does not change the meaning of the text, and requires no investigation.

Still left to explore, however, is a comparison of the English translations of the pericope in order to establish our translation. The differences in NIV and NABRE as compared to the NRSV are marked below with italics to indicate different wording, and an underlined blank space to indicate omission of something:

24 Reading the Synoptic Gospels NIV

NRSV

NABRE

While Jesus was still talking to the crowd, his mother and ____ brothers stood outside, wanting to speak to him. 47 Someone told him, ______“Your mother and ____ brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” 48He replied to him,

While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him. 47 Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” 48But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49 And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 50For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”

While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers appeared outside, wishing to speak with him. 47 [Someone told him, ______“Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, asking to speak with you.”] 48But he said in reply to the one who told him, “Who is my mother? ___ Who are my brothers?” 49 And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers. 50For whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother, and sister, and mother.”

46

“Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49 ___ Pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers. 50For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”

46

46

The differences in the NIV are primarily minor stylistic differences. None of the changes in wording or omissions change the meaning of the passage in any significant way. The differences in the NABRE also are primarily differences in style. Some of the style changes do give a little different feel to the scene. Whereas in verse 46, the NRSV (and NIV) speak of Jesus’ family “standing outside [the house], the NABRE says they “appeared,” presumably

Establishing the Pericope, Text, and Plain Sense 25 to indicate their having just arrived, which is not as clear in the other translations. Whereas in verse 46 “wishing” is really the equivalent to “wanting,” in verse 47 the NABRE says the family is asking (an action) to speak to Jesus instead of repeating the verb wishing (as the NRSV repeats wanting—an internal desire probably implying a request). None of these differences change the meaning enough to require us to adjust the NRSV’s translation. One more difference lies in verse 49. The NIV and the NRSV speak of Jesus “pointing to” the disciples, while the NABRE offers the translation of Jesus “stretching out his hand toward” them. The meaning does not seem significantly different—both phrases have Jesus drawing his audience’s attention to the disciples—but the wording seems different enough to raise an eyebrow. Likely in this case, the NABRE has stayed with a more literal translation of the Greek (formal correspondence) and the NRSV and NIV have used contemporary English idiom (dynamic equivalence). Again, we find no need to alter the NRSV in one’s exegesis at this point, but this is the kind of difference to note to check again later in the exegetical process. For instance, does a commentary mention anything about the language of this verse?

Having established the boundaries, the text, and the translation, we can now assert that the pericope we will be interpreting is Matthew 12:46–50, which reads: While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him. 47 Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” 48But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 50For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” 46

Establishing the Plain Sense Our final step in preparing the surface for deeper interpretation is to establish the literal sense of the pericope. Nothing is needed for this passage, which includes no unfamiliar or

26 Reading the Synoptic Gospels ambivalent terms or references to unknown locations or such. Some of the terms may have cultural weights we do not fully comprehend from our modern perspective (e.g., the role of the mother in ancient Jewish life), but this will be examined later. For now, it is clear what a mother is as a literal term. We have finished preparing the text to be interpreted. We have established the pericope as Matthew 12:46–50. We have established the text as including v. 47. We have chosen to accept the NRSV translation as it stands. And we understand the plain sense of the pericope. We are now ready to move to the next step in our interpretive process: exploring the socio-historical background of the passage. For Further Reading Epp, Eldon Jay. “Textual Criticism.” In The New Testament and Its Modern Interpreters, edited by E. J. Epp and G. W. MacRae, 75–126. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989. Hayes, John H., and Carl R. Holladay. “Grammatical Criticism: The Language of the Text.” In Biblical Exegesis: A Beginner’s Handbook, 3rd ed., 72–89. Atlanta: Westminster John Knox Press, 2007. Metzger, Bruce M. Introduction to Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament. 2d ed., xiii–xxxi. New York: United Bible Societies, 1995. Throckmorton, Burton H., Jr. “Preface to the Fifth Edition.” In Gospel Parallels, ix–xxii. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1992.

Excursus 1 Development of the Synoptic Gospels It is not possible, in a work of this length, to offer a detailed argument for a particular hypothesis concerning the process by which the Synoptic Gospels developed. It is important to at least summarize in broad, if imprecise, strokes the understanding of the movement from Jesus of Nazareth to the final form of the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke that underlies the development of most of the exegetical methods described in this book. The process begins with the Jesus Movement itself. Although our historical knowledge of Jesus of Nazareth is limited, it is clear that a group of people who were attracted to his teachings gathered around him as his disciples/students/followers. Teachings and events that made an especially strong impression on these disciples would have been remembered and passed on after his death. One of the great challenges to New Testament scholarship is answering the historical question of what happened next. We know the result, but not the process. The result was that the attraction to Jesus’ teachings evolved into worship of Jesus as the Christ. The Jesus Movement became a Christian movement, or the church. In other words, somehow the preaching of Jesus was replaced by preaching about Jesus. So thorough was this process that our earliest New Testament writings (the letters of Paul) rarely even mention the teachings or ministry of Jesus at 27

28 Reading the Synoptic Gospels all. Instead, the letters focus on the death of Jesus the Christ. So the next step in the development of the gospel traditions was the preaching of Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection, with the oral shape of the passion narrative most likely being the oldest part of the gospels and taking written form before other parts. As the preaching about the death and resurrection spread and time passed, interest arose in Jesus’ teachings and in the events of his ministry. Oral traditions arose that told of miracles performed by Jesus, parables he taught, and confrontations he had with religious authorities. These traditions, used for the purposes of proclamation, were collected and eventually written down. Almost all New Testament scholars agree that Mark is the earliest written gospel narrative (at least, that is still extant). Around the year 70 c.e. (when the Jerusalem temple was destroyed) “Mark” (the attribution of authorship of the gospels is not original, but names of the gospels continue to be used for the authors for the sake of convenience) collected individual traditions about Jesus’ ministry in Galilee along with the passion narrative set in Jerusalem and pasted them together into a theological narrative that began with Jesus’ baptism and ended at his empty tomb. Most scholars also agree that Matthew and Luke were written independently of each other ten to twenty years after Mark was written. Both “Matthew” and “Luke” (again, the actual names of the authors of the gospels are unknown) used the Gospel of Mark as one of their primary sources, following its outline to a great degree, but expanding its content significantly. While there are significant narrative additions in both gospels (e.g., the birth and resurrection narratives), the majority of the material that Matthew and Luke add to Mark is speech material. Many of these sayings are found in both Matthew and Luke. Many times Matthew and Luke use exactly the same wording in their presentations of these sayings. The simplest explanation for this phenomenon would be that either Matthew copied these sayings from the Gospel of Luke or Luke used the Gospel of Matthew as

Excursus: Development of the Synoptic Gospels 29 a source, except for the fact that Matthew and Luke nearly always insert these sayings into different places in Mark’s narrative outline. For example, Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem is presented in both Mathew and Luke in nearly word-for-word parallelism. But Matthew inserts the saying into Mark’s temple dialogue just before Jesus is arrested (23:37–39), whereas Luke inserts the pericope into a travel narrative created to present Jesus’ teaching on his way from Galilee to Jerusalem (13:34–35). If Matthew had used Luke as a source or vice versa, one would expect to find significant amounts of both parallel wording and parallel placement. Because so little parallel placement exists, scholars looked for an answer that would explain the parallel wording and differing placement. The hypothesis most scholars hold is that Matthew and Luke had a second major source in addition to Mark. Scholars call this sayings source (or collection of shared written sources) “Q,” from the German word Quelle, which means “source.” (A small but increasing number of synoptic scholars are beginning to question this model and especially the claims of Q scholarship, but no alternate consensus has developed among them.) In addition to the material they share with Mark and with each other, Matthew and Luke also contain material unique to each of their Gospels. Some of these sayings and stories may be “Q” material that one or the other gospel writer chose not to include. Some of it must come from other sources as well. Thus, scholars label the materials unique to Matthew with the letter “M” and those unique to Luke, “L.” In graphic presentation, the final stages of the process by which the Synoptic Gospels developed would look like the following: Mark

“Q”

“M”

“L” Matthew

Luke

Chapter 2 Social and Historical Background All biblical texts are historical, but they are not necessarily history. When we are referring specifically to the Gospels, claiming that they are historical means two things. First, it means that they are historically bound. The Gospels were not spoken by God in a vacuous heaven separated from the ebb and flow of earthly existence. They were written by Christians who were trying faithfully to tell the story of the Christ event in such a way that it would have a positive effect on the perceptions, emotions, theology, and (individual and communal) lives of their audience. Like all humans, these authors were creatures of context. They were defined by the culture and period in which they lived. Their worldviews were intimately bound to the cosmopolitan, pluralistic, Hellenized, imperial, patriarchal, agrarian, oral, Mediterranean world of the Roman Empire. So are their narratives. The second thing we mean when we say that the gospels are historical is that they contain history. They focus on a historical person, Jesus of Nazareth. As Luke says in his prologue, some of the accounts of events included in the gospels were passed down by eyewitnesses (1:2). By tying these accounts back to the earliest sources, Luke implies that they are historically accurate. The fact that the gospels are historically bound and contain historical elements, however, should not lead us to confuse them with history books. Their goal is to preach the gospel of Jesus as the Christ, not to publish a journalistic report (thus the difference between the good news and a newspaper). Even as he claims 30

Social and Historical Background

31

the historicity of his sources, Luke states that his primary intent is to write an orderly narrative so that Christian readers “may know the truth concerning the things about which you have been instructed” (1:4). The purpose of the gospels is to offer proclamation of an ultimate, not a historical, nature. There is a difference between theological truth and historical fact. Put in its classic, theological formulation, the gospels proclaim the story of the Jesus Christ of faith; they do not narrate the biography of the Jesus of Nazareth of history. The Interpreter’s Approach to the Historical Text It is not the goal of this book to argue, one way or another, whether in the Synoptic Gospels the historical picture of Jesus and the proclamatory picture of Christ are identical or diverge widely. We simply make the distinction between the goal of writing history and that of writing religious narrative in order to focus the interpreter’s goal in relation to the historical character of the Gospels. If readers turn to the Synoptic Gospels as religious stories to which they grant the authority to shape, confirm, or transform their views of self, world, and God, they should not get bogged down trying to use the narratives to answer historical questions. To do so is to fail to explore the text on its own terms. Nevertheless, at least an elementary understanding of the socio-historical world of the text is required if the interpreter is to uncover and come to understand fully the layers of religious and theological meaning a pericope conveys to its readers. A twothousand-year gap lies between modern readers and the world of the gospels. The interpreter must be historically sensitive so as to avoid (eisegetically) forcing modern values, views of the universe, or perceptions of daily lifestyles on the ancient text. The gospels and their pericopes must be appreciated as expressions of the ancient world, which they reflect and in which they arose. The first step in such appreciation is the identification of elements in the pericope that require location within ancient history and culture. We will discover more of these elements than we might think at first. Most obvious are references to historical events

32 Reading the Synoptic Gospels and persons. We must also look for ancient practices, rituals, and daily living conditions (food, clothes, shelter, work) as well as ancient geographical sites. More subtle are latent values in the text that are culturally defined—views concerning relationships, class, gender, ethnic identity, personality, the physical world, political existence, and ethics. At first glance, these things may seem identical or at least analogous to modern values, but investigation will show that the differences may be significant. They are not spelled out in the text because the gospel writers assume that the references are understood, or that the values are shared by their first-century audiences. Since the references are foreign to us, however, we must investigate them to understand the text’s significance in its original context. Such investigation is the second step in dealing with the social and historical elements in a pericope. For beginning interpreters, investigation of these elements can be difficult. We are unable to visit archaeological digs in the Holy Land, read reams of classical Greek literature, or study ancient Mediterranean political and social history in great depth. Therefore, we must rely on the research of scholars in these fields. The problem with such reliance is that hundreds of volumes of research investigate the relationship between the Bible and the context in which it was originally shaped and read. Two types of works have condensed, pertinent social and historical information for us as we approach a particular pericope. The first type is a commentary. Commentaries, which analyze biblical writings pericope by pericope, will discuss social and historical data that the commentator considers relevant to a particular passage. The problem with consulting a commentary at this early point in the interpretive process is that it could prejudice our interpretation of our pericope. Commentaries should be used as dialogue partners. We use them to test (and therefore confirm, expand, or alter) our interpretation by comparing it with another reader’s interpretation. A commentary should not serve as an interpretation from which our own interpretation proceeds. Therefore, we do better to delay our consultation of

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commentaries until later in the interpretive process and instead turn to the second type of work that condenses historical and social information into an accessible format: the Bible dictionary. By using a Bible dictionary to investigate those elements in our pericope that we have identified as needful of location in their original setting, we are able to gain an elementary understanding of the social, psychological, political, and economic nuances of our text, and will have a better sense of the kind of impact its context would have had on a first-century audience. Once all the social and historical elements of the pericope have been identified and investigated at an elementary level, the interpreter will be ready to move to the next step of interpretation. Before moving to that next step, let’s examine how this step works on our example pericope. Example: Matthew 12:46–50

Identification of Socio-historical Elements This pericope raises several historical questions concerning Jesus’ family. Where is Jesus’ father? How many siblings did Jesus have? If we were researching the historical Jesus and using this pericope as one of our sources, these would be interesting questions to pursue. But if we are striving to discover and interpret the various layers of meaning in the pericope, such historical questions sidetrack our efforts. We need to focus only on the types of social and historical questions that will help us understand the passage better. Whereas we are not concerned with the specific historical details of Jesus’ family, we should be concerned about the views and values that first-century Mediterranean culture placed on the family unit. How did the family function, and how was it viewed in the time in which Matthew was written? Another element that may be better understood by examination in its socio-historical setting is the portrayal of the disciples. Discipleship language is so common within modern Christian discourse that we may too readily assume that we know what

34 Reading the Synoptic Gospels the gospel means when it speaks of Jesus’ disciples. We must be careful not to project our use of discipleship language (as well as our acceptance of the presentation of the disciples in sermons and popular devotional materials) onto Matthew’s presentation of the disciples in his socio-historical context.

Investigation of Socio-historical Elements If we look up family in the New Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, we find a four-page article written by Timothy M. Willis (vol. 2, pp. 427–30). The essay is divided into two sections dealing respectively with the family in the Old Testament and in the New Testament. Although the information in the first section relates to a period earlier than that of the first century c.e., it is not completely irrelevant. Scanning it may provide a historical and social framework in which to consider the dynamics present in the pericope when Jesus aligns himself with a new familial group. So, for instance, Willis describes the family as an extension of the male head of the family in texts that address individual men with the singular “you” while clearly referring to the whole of the household: A reference to all these family members and slaves with the singular you does not mean that any of them loses his or her identity as an individual; rather it reflects their legal status in comparison with others in their community. A man’s wife, children, and servants or slaves…are considered part of the man or an extension of the man in legal matters. They are one with the man, but each has the potential to separate from him. Sons become adult males with property (men), and daughters marry and join themselves to another male… This sense of oneness represents their basic understanding of family. Typically, it is the man who collects and distributes the family property, oversees the family farm or business, adjudicates intramural disputes, arranges marriages, and represents the family to the community… The behavior of each individual in the family affects the reputation of the others, but particularly the status of the man in the community. (pp. 427–28)

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So in this excerpt (and throughout the first section of the dictionary entry) we find that in the periods represented by the Hebrew Bible, most of the authority in the nuclear family belonged to the father, who exercised legal control over his children and wife, although his power was not absolute (Ex. 21:7–11; Deut. 21:15–21). Children were expected to honor and obey their parents, and failure to do so was a serious matter (Ex. 20:12; 21:15, 17; Lev. 20:9; Deut. 27:16; Prov. 30:17). Children remained under their father’s control until they were married, when they left home to start a new family unit. Even after marriage children were expected to honor their parents and were exhorted to care for them in their old age (Prov. 23:22). While much of this section of the entry is of little help to us as we interpret specific details of our New Testament passage, some important observations are possible. Because Jesus was not married, he would still have been considered part of his family of origin under his father’s authority. Thus, the absence of the father from the scene is striking, especially in the light of the fact that Jesus’ last word identifies his family as those disciples who do the will of his “Father in heaven.” Has Jesus substituted one Father for another and thus also substituted one family for another? Is there a relationship between the authority under which one ultimately lives and the person(s) to whom one relates most intimately? Is Jesus rejecting the persons of his family or the cultural mores of honoring his mother and remaining a legal and economic part of his original household? These issues, which would have been immediately evident to a first-century reader, would have been missed by us if we had been satisfied with thinking of Jesus’ family in modern terms. The Bible dictionary essay continues with a section dealing specifically with the family in New Testament. This section devotes less discussion to the broad views of family in the New Testament period and provides more details about family structures and the church. For instance, Willis emphasizes that for early Christians, “their new church family takes priority over their natural families, requiring a shift in familial responsibilities and

36 Reading the Synoptic Gospels benefits” (p. 430). This statement confirms the direction of our questions concerning the tension between social expectations of loyalty to family and Jesus’ statement concerning his new family (i.e., the disciples who do the will of his Father in heaven). Moreover, it shows that while our pericope focuses directly on Jesus’ family, the issue underlying the passage may have more to do with a tension felt by members of the early church as they struggled with allegiance to family (which is a virtue) and to the Christian community (which is described as a new family). Therefore, by reading the Bible dictionary article on the family, the backdrop against which we view Matthew 12:46–50 has come into sharper focus. Matthew is not only telling a story about Jesus’ defining his “true” family, he is telling a story that reflects and addresses a struggle of first-century Christians concerning adhering to cultural mores versus becoming part of a radically new social order that may go against those mores. Next, we need to look up disciples in our Bible dictionary. In the New Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible (vol. 2, pp. 128–131), we find an article written by David R. Bauer under the heading, “Disciple, Discipleship” that very briefly deals with discipleship in the Old Testament, a little more with discipleship in the New Testament generally, and with significantly more detail about disciples in the Gospels and Acts (with Matthew having its own subsection). Bauer asserts that the Greek word translated “disciple” indicates the role of pupil or adherent, and says, “Perhaps the central feature of the ministry of Jesus was the calling and instructing of his disciples” (p. 128). John the Baptist and the Pharisees are also represented as having disciples, offering a point of comparison for Jesus’ disciples: Although many have assumed that discipleship to Jesus involved the decision to submit to the instruction of a rabbi, in the days of Jesus there was no concept of an order of ordained Jewish rabbis who held formal positions in the Jewish religious culture; rather there were religious teachers (rabbis), mostly of the Pharisees, who on the basis of their own knowledge and embodiment of the Torah, and

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not on the basis of any official status, attracted groups of disciples for the study of the written Torah and especially oral Torah (the “tradition of the elders”). There were similarities between these rabbis and Jesus, which explains why Jesus is repeatedly addressed as rabbi or teacher…but one should note the differences as well. For one thing, these rabbis never seemed to have approached persons with the invitation to become disciples; on the contrary would-be disciples would implore rabbis to study under them. But the Gospels emphasize that Jesus initiated the master-disciple relationships… Moreover, discipleship to these rabbis focused upon the learning of Torah, whereas discipleship to Jesus involved a total commitment to the person and destiny of Jesus himself, even to the point of abandoning the security of vocation, possessions, and home, and repudiating family ties and responsibilities, just as Jesus had separated himself from his own family and abandoned vocation and home (e.g., Luke 9:57-62)… Finally, disciples of rabbis hoped to become expert in the law and assume the role of teacher of the law, or rabbi, whereas disciples of Jesus were not to aspire to such a position (Matt 23:8), but rather were to become apostles…sent out…by Jesus to proclaim the arrival of God’s kingdom (Mark 6:7-13). These differences with disciples to rabbis suggest that discipleship to Jesus involved embracing him as an eschatological prophet and indeed as an apocalyptic charismatic deliverer. (pp. 128-29)

What we have learned so far, then, is that in the first-century context discipleship language was not just Christian language. The term “disciple” might have been as common in Matthew’s day as “student” is in ours. The essay makes clear that disciples (including Jesus’ disciples) were defined by their relation to their teacher. In our pericope, disciples are related to Jesus (as family) only by doing the will of God. Matthew, therefore, presents Jesus as stretching the understanding of discipleship common in his day. By understanding a little more of the etymology and historical use of this word we have been able to recognize a nuance in Matthew 12:46–50 we might have missed otherwise.

38 Reading the Synoptic Gospels In this pericope, Jesus is not only redefining familial ties, he is redefining discipleship. A disciple is one who shares Jesus’ loyalty to God, not just one who is loyal to Jesus. [Bauer’s discussion of disciples in Matthew moves into the territory of commentary instead of historical background. As noted earlier, once exegetes have mastered the different methods presented in this book, the lines between them become much fuzzier and one can allow them to overlap. As we learn the methods, we want to keep the steps separate, so we are going to omit a discussion of the dictionary entry’s discussion of Matthew’s unique presentation of disciples at this point.] We have not investigated this pericope’s historical and social context for the sake of the context itself. We have done so to be better equipped to understand what we discover as we dig into the passage. If we have done our job well, we move to the next step with both more information and more questions (better informed questions) than we had before this step. For Further Reading Elliott, John H. What Is Social-Scientific Criticism? Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993. Garrett, Susan R. “Sociology of Early Christianity.” In The Anchor Bible Dictionary, edited by David Noel Freedman, 6.89–99. New York: Doubleday, 1992. Malina, Bruce J. “The Social Sciences and Biblical Interpretation.” In Interpretation 36 (1982): 229–42. ________, and Richard L. Rohrbaugh. Social-Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992. Martin, Dale B. “Social-Scientific Criticism.” In To Each Its Own Meaning: An Introduction to Biblical Criticisms and Their Application, rev. ed., edited by Steven L. McKenzie and Stephen R. Haynes, 125–41. Louisville: Westminster/ John Knox Press, 1993. Osiek, Carolyn. What Are They Saying about the Social Setting of the New Testament? New York: Paulist Press, 1984.

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Rhoades, David. “Social Criticism: Crossing Boundaries.” In Mark & Method: New Approaches in Biblical Studies, 2nd ed., edited by Janice Capel Anderson and Stephen D. Moore, 145–80. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2008. Tiffany, Frederick C., and Sharon H. Ringe. “Reading Contextually: Locating the Social Context.” In Biblical Interpretation: A Roadmap, 95–108. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1996.

Chapter 3 Literary Background In the last chapter, we examined the importance of obtaining an elementary knowledge of the socio-historical background of a pericope. The backdrop that sets the stage for the Synoptics includes more than the economic, political, psychological, social, and historical dimensions of ancient Mediterranean culture. The synoptics student must also examine the literary aspect of the backdrop. The Israelite faith was rooted in the ancient stories of the creation of the world, the deliverance of a people, and the establishment of a nation. It was shaped by rituals involving purity codes, atonement, historical creeds, worship, ethical standards, prayer, song, and prophecy. The Babylonian Empire conquered Judah in 586 b.c.e., destroyed Jerusalem (including the temple), and sent the Judean political, economic, and religious leaders into exile. The Israelite religion had to make some radical changes if it was going to survive. It could no longer be a national religion focused on a centralized, sacrificial temple cult. Thus, the Israelite religion slowly evolved into the Jewish religion of the Book. Long before the exile, religious and political leaders in Israel had begun writing down the stories of their history and the songs of their faith. However, during the exile this process intensified greatly. The stories were collected into longer narratives. The poetry was collected into a psalter. The diverse prophetic voices that began to be heard before the exile continued to speak through and beyond it, being gathered into written collections. 40

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Most scholars believe that synagogues began to appear during this period. These were assembly halls where Jews met to pray together and to study sacred writings, even without a recognized canon. The centrality of the written word that was blossoming during the exile was well established half a millennium later, in the time of Jesus and his followers, who, of course, were Jews. Therefore, when we turn to the Synoptic Gospels, we should expect to see Jesus and others portrayed as quoting, paraphrasing, echoing, debating, and interpreting scripture. Moreover, by the time the Gospels were written, Christians were interpreting scripture in new ways to ground their understanding of the Christ event in the story, faith, and prophetic proclamation of their forebears. Use of Scripture in the Gospels In the Synoptic Gospels, Jewish scripture serves as a backdrop to the presentation of the narrator and to the speech of the characters in the story.

Narrator’s Use The gospel writers have their narrators use scripture in three primary ways as they tell the story of the Christ event. First, the narrators can quote biblical texts directly. Although all three of the Synoptics do this, Matthew is especially fond of quoting scripture as proof that events in Jesus’ life directly fulfill the scriptures. These “formula citations,” as Matthean scholars often call them, are especially dense in the infancy narrative (chapters 1—2). One of the best illustrative examples is Matthew’s version of the “triumphant entry” into Jerusalem (21:1–9). The narrator quotes Zechariah 9:9 (influenced by Isa. 62:11): This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, “Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” (Mt. 21:4–5)       

42 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Matthew mistakes the common Hebrew literary technique of poetic parallelism (“and on a colt, the foal of a donkey” is in apposition to “on a donkey”) for a reference to two different animals. He so desires to present Jesus’ entry into the city as a fulfillment of this text that he describes Jesus as riding two animals at the same time: The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them (21:6–7; see v. 2; italics added).

The second way the gospel narrators use scripture is subtler and more difficult to identify. Gospel scenes (or longer stretches of narrative) are often narrated in such a way that they are patterned on a biblical story or passage. In other words, preachers of the first century and the gospel writers shaped the stories about Jesus in a midrashic fashion so that they mirror or echo scripture. This was done to varying degrees. For example, although Mark does not cite Zechariah 9 explicitly, his version of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem is clearly patterned on the prophetic oracle. However, one must already be familiar with Zechariah to recognize the similarity. Matthew makes the link between the entry and Zechariah 9 stronger not only by quoting the scripture text directly, but also by adding the second animal (Mark has only one donkey) so that the evocation of the ancient scriptural text is explicit and exact. It is only natural that gospel writers would pattern stories about Jesus after biblical texts. Because scripture was authoritative for shaping the worldview of the early Christians, the early Christians wanted to demonstrate, in great detail, that the Christ event accorded with that worldview. The passion narrative in Mark 15 is a lengthy example of this desire. The story of the crucifixion is told in such a way that it evokes and echoes Psalm 22 in numerous places. Thus, Jesus’ death is put in the broader context of God’s providential care throughout the history of Israel. A third way that gospel narrators use scripture is to shape scenes in accordance with biblical themes. In such instances, no

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specific scriptural passage is quoted or echoed, but a scriptural theme is present as an unmistakable backdrop to the scene. If this biblical theme is not evoked in the mind of the reader, the full theological context of the pericope is not explored, and a significant element of meaning in the gospel passage is lost.

Characters’ Use The gospel writers also present the characters in their narratives as using scripture in three main ways. At times, Jesus and others explicitly quote or refer to a scripture passage or story. For example, in Luke 6:1–5 Jesus’ disciples are challenged by Pharisees for plucking grain on the Sabbath. Jesus responds by saying, “Have you not read what David did when he and his companions were hungry?” (v. 3, italics added), and goes on to paraphrase the scene from 1 Samuel 21:1–7 to justify his disciples’ actions. Similarly, in Mark 12:28–34, a scribe asks Jesus which commandment (in scripture) is the greatest, and Jesus answers by directly quoting Deuteronomy 6:4–5 and Leviticus 19:18. Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength’ [quoting Deuteronomy 6:5]. The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself’ [quoting Leviticus 19:18]” (Mk. 12:29–31).

Second, characters in the gospels interpret specific biblical texts. Luke 10:25–37 is the third gospel’s version of the pericope concerning the greatest commandment. Here, in response to a lawyer’s question concerning how “to inherit eternal life,” Jesus answers the question with a question, asking the lawyer, ”What is written in the law?” In Luke, the words of the pericope are actually put into the mouth of the lawyer: He [the lawyer] answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself” (Lk. 10:27).

44 Reading the Synoptic Gospels When the lawyer asks for clarification concerning the identity of the “neighbor” from Leviticus 19, Jesus answers with the parable of the Good Samaritan. Therefore, Jesus uses this parable to interpret scripture. Third, characters often allude to or echo biblical language and themes in the same way that pericopes or longer stretches of gospel texts can echo the Hebrew Scriptures. Jesus’ self-referential use of the title “Son of man” is an example of such an echo. Every time he uses it, the title subtly evokes the apocalyptic worldview of Daniel, in which the Son of man is an eschatological, messianic figure. To miss this reference is to misunderstand the title. Reading for Scripture in Scripture When we study the socio-historical background of a gospel pericope, it is not because we want to learn more about ancient Mediterranean history, but because we assume such knowledge will broaden our recognition of the significance of our text. Similarly, our goal in analyzing a gospel writer’s use of scripture in a specific pericope is not to gain a better understanding of the Hebrew Scriptures. The goal is to understand how the new Christian message in this pericope is authorized, legitimized, sharpened, or shaped through the use of ancient biblical texts or themes considered to be authoritative by the author and his audience (and perhaps also by outsiders or opponents of the church). The first step in reaching this goal is to determine whether our pericope utilizes scripture in some way. Not all pericopes have a specific, significant biblical backdrop. If our pericope does, then we must also determine how it uses scripture. Is scripture evoked by a character or by the narrator? Is a biblical text referenced directly, or does the pericope allude to it or echo it indirectly? Is a specific Hebrew scripture passage referenced, or is the backdrop a broader biblical theme? How we proceed from here depends on our answer to the “how” question. If our pericope echoes or refers to a specific biblical text, then our next step is the identification of that

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specific text. The notes in our annotated Bible will most likely identify that text for us. If not, we can use a concordance to find the text. (In fact, it is a good idea to look up key words of a biblical quotation or reference in a concordance even if using a study Bible. There may be more than one passage from the Hebrew Bible to which the pericope’s citation could possibly refer or echo.) Once we have found the referent(s), we need to read it in its original context. This does not mean we have to perform a full-fledged exegesis of the Hebrew Bible text, but we do need an elementary understanding of what the text meant and how it was used in its original literary and socio-historical setting. Regardless of where the text is in the Hebrew Scriptures, our one-volume commentary will introduce us to the general setting and purpose of the book in which it is embedded, as well as help us grasp the basic meaning and function of the citation. Now that we possess a broad understanding of the referent text, we should compare the original text with the citation in our synoptic pericope. Does the character or narrator quote the text correctly, or is the citation or allusion altered? (At this point, we must issue a caveat to be careful about making claims concerning a text that has been altered. The gospel writers do not seem to have read Hebrew. Instead, they primarily used the Greek translation of the Old Testament called the Septuagint [pronounced sep-too-uh-jint] (although there are instances of citations in which the Hebrew version seems to be represented more than the Septuagint). The translation is called this because of a legend that seventy [septuaginta in Latin] Jewish scholars working independently all made identical translations of a piece of the Hebrew Bible into Greek—in fact, the standard abbreviation for the Septuagint is the Roman numeral “LXX.” Our English translation of the Hebrew Scriptures, however, is primarily based on Hebrew manuscripts. Thus, any claim we, as English readers, make about a gospel writer’s alteration of a text from the Hebrew Bible is based on a comparison of an English translation of a citation based on the Septuagint with an

46 Reading the Synoptic Gospels English translation of the Hebrew manuscripts. (Later, when we consult commentaries, difference in the Greek or Hebrew might be noted if it is an important difference.) Thus, similar to the task of comparing translations in establishing the text and translation of pericope, we are looking for significant changes only. If we decide the text has been significantly altered, we must ask why it has been altered. Does it appear that the gospel writer simply made a mistake, or was he attempting to create some effect by changing the text? What effect? How does the adaptation serve a Christian theology and worldview? Finally, we need to ask why the gospel writer uses the scripture reference to speak in a first-century Christian context. In other words, how does this particular scripture referent authorize, undergird, or illustrate the embodiment of Christian proclamation in this particular pericope? How does the content and function of the Hebrew scripture text relate to the content and function of the gospel pericope? If our pericope refers to a Hebrew scripture theme instead of a specific biblical text, then the step that first follows the recognition that our pericope utilizes scripture is the identification of that theme. This is not always easily done. Our study Bible may point us toward this theme. However, we will also need to use a concordance to explore whether the vocabulary of our pericope echoes scriptural language and themes. The problem is that not all themes are easily linked to specific vocabulary. Our commentary may also point us toward a subtle scriptural backdrop for our text. In this step we are looking less for a specific Hebrew scripture passage referenced in our pericope than for numerous Hebrew scripture passages that illustrate a theme referenced in our pericope. (Again, we warn against turning to commentaries too early in the exegetical process, for fear that the commentary’s viewpoint will prejudice our own interpretive work.) Once we have identified a possible Hebrew scripture theme, we should look up this theme in a Bible dictionary. Some themes may not have an entry dedicated to them. Nevertheless, essays on related issues or themes will often be helpful, so the

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exegete must consider various synonyms the dictionary might use to classify the lexical field of the theme or issue. Finally, we need to ask why the gospel writer echoes the scriptural theme to speak in a first-century Christian context. In other words—as with specific biblical references—we ask how this particular theme authorizes, undergirds, or illustrates the embodiment of Christian proclamation in this particular pericope. How does this traditional theme affect the narration of the good news? How does the readers’ recognition of the presence of this theme affect a new hearing of the pericope? Example Pericope: Matthew 12:46–50

Determination That Scripture Is Being Used As we turn to our example pericope, we begin by determining whether scripture is utilized in this scene. Immediately we see that neither the narrator nor any character in the pericope references scripture directly (i.e., by quoting a Hebrew scripture text). Nor do the notes in our annotated Bible point to a Hebrew scripture passage upon which this pericope is shaped or patterned. Thus, we must explore whether scripture plays a subtler, perhaps thematic, role as a backdrop for the scene. Would the focus of the scene have evoked a scriptural story, passage, or theme in the minds of readers familiar with Jewish scripture? Our exploration of the socio-historical background of the passage has actually already pointed us toward the theme of loyalty and responsibility to one’s family as a possible biblical backdrop for our pericope. In fact, the Bible dictionary essay on the family used scripture references to support its description of the sociological significance and structure of the ancient family. Remember that we noted that children were expected to honor and obey their parents and that even the behavior of adult children reflected on the parents’ (especially the father’s) reputation, and we cited as examples Exodus 20:12; 21:15, 17; Leviticus 20:9; Deuteronomy 27:16; Proverb 30:17. We should look up the example texts to understand how this assertion is made (in all scriptures that follow, the italics are added):

48 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you. (Ex. 20:12) Whoever strikes father or mother shall be put to death. (Ex. 21:15) Whoever curses father or mother shall be put to death. (Ex. 21:17) All who curse father or mother shall be put to death; having cursed father or mother, their blood is upon them. (Lev. 20:9) Cursed be anyone who dishonors father or mother. All the people shall say, “Amen!” (Deut. 27:16) The eye that mocks a father and scorns to obey a mother will be pecked out by the ravens of the valley and eaten by the vultures. (Prov. 30:17)

These passages demonstrate both the scriptural commandment to honor parents and the scriptural disdain of those who do not. Since our Bible dictionary provided scriptural references as examples, we need to look for this theme in a concordance to determine how widespread the theme is throughout Hebrew Scripture. By looking up familial terms and skimming the list of references for texts that speak of honoring parents and being loyal to family, we find that the following texts that are similar to the representative passages above: You shall each revere your mother and father, and you shall keep my sabbaths: I am the Lord your God. (Lev. 19:3) Honor your father and your mother, as the Lord your God commanded you, so that your days may be long and that it may go well with you in the land that the Lord your God is giving you. (Deut. 5:16) If someone has a stubborn and rebellious son who will not obey his father and mother, who does not heed them when they discipline him, then his father and his mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his town at the gate of that place. They shall say to the elders of his town, “This son

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of ours is stubborn and rebellious. He will not obey us. He is a glutton and a drunkard.” Then all the men of the town shall stone him to death. So you shall purge the evil from your midst; and all Israel will hear, and be afraid. (Deut. 21:18–21) [In Psalm 50, God condemns the evil of breaking God’s torah, which includes:] You sit and speak against your kin; you slander your own mother’s child. (Ps. 50:20) A wise child makes a glad father, but the foolish despise their mothers. (Prov. 15:20) Those who do violence to their father and chase away their mother are children who cause shame and bring reproach. (Prov. 19:26) If you curse father or mother, your lamp will go out in utter darkness. (Prov. 20:20) Listen to your father who begot you, and do not despise your mother when she is old. (Prov. 23:22) Anyone who robs father or mother and says, “That is no crime,” is partner to a thug. (Prov. 28:24) [Listed with the hypocritical, the proud, and the greedy as reprehensible is:] There are those who curse their fathers and do not bless their mothers. (Prov. 30:11) [Ezekiel 22 is an oracle of judgment against Jerusalem that lists the city’s sins, including:] Father and mother are treated with contempt in you. (Ezek. 22:7) [Micah describes the corruption of the people, which includes the breaking of family ties:] Put no trust in a friend, have no confidence in a loved one; guard the doors of your mouth from her who lies in your embrace; for the son treats the father with contempt, the daughter rises up against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; your enemies are members of your own household. (Mic. 7:5–6)

These passages, which come from legal, wisdom, and prophetic materials, demonstrate the high importance placed on the principle of familial loyalty, especially honoring one’s parents, throughout the Hebrew Scriptures. The command to honor

50 Reading the Synoptic Gospels parents is repeated three times in the Hebrew Scriptures and lies behind the numerous texts that include indictments, curses, and proscriptions for punishment—even capital punishment—directed against children who do not follow the commandment. Our concordance quest uncovered some other interesting passages as well. A son honors his father, and servants their master. If then I am a father, where is the honor due me? And if I am a master, where is the respect due me? says the Lord of hosts to you, O priests, who despise my name. (Mal. 1:6)

In this text the principle of honoring one’s parents is used by a prophet as a theological analogy for how God is to be honored. Thus, Malachi presents obedience to God and obedience to parents as being similar. Other places in the Hebrew Scriptures present situations where loyalty to family is in conflict with obedience to God: If anyone secretly entices you—even if it is your brother, your father’s son or your mother’s son, or your own son or daughter, or the wife you embrace, or your most intimate friend—saying, “Let us go worship other gods,”…you must not yield to or heed any such persons. Show them no pity or compassion and do not shield them. But you shall surely kill them; your own hand shall be first against them to execute them, and afterwards the hand of all the people. (Deut. 13:6–9) [When Moses discovers that the Israelites have made and worshiped a golden calf, he orders the Levites:] “Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, ‘Put your sword on your side, each of you! Go back and forth from gate to gate throughout the camp, and each of you kill your brother, your friend, and your neighbor.’” The sons of Levi did as Moses commanded, and about three thousand of the people fell on that day. Moses said, “Today you have ordained yourselves for the service of the Lord, each one at the cost of a son or a brother, and so have brought a blessing on yourselves this day.” (Ex. 32:27–29) [Numbers 6 describes the nazirites’ duties to God, which require maintaining purity even in the face of family obligations:] All the days that they separate themselves to the Lord

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they shall not go near a corpse. Even if their father or mother, brother or sister, should die, they may not defile themselves; because their consecration to God is upon the head. All their days as nazirites they are holy to the Lord. (Num. 6:6–8; cf. Lev. 21:1–4; Ezek. 44–25, where a priest may defile himself to bury family) [Deuteronomy 33 comprises Moses’ blessing on the tribes of Israel just before his death. In his blessing of the Levites, Moses says:] And of Levi he said: / Give to Levi your Thummim, / and your Urim to your loyal one, / whom you tested at Massah, / with whom you contended at the waters of Meribah; / who said of his father and mother, / “I regard them not”; / he ignored his kin, / and did not acknowledge his children. / For they observed your word, / and kept your covenant. (Deut. 33:8–9; cf. Ex. 32:27–29 above)

In these passages we find that obedience to God requires turning away from family only in the most extraordinary circumstances: when relatives are seducing you into idolatry or have been seduced into it themselves, or when you have taken the radical vows of a nazirite. In other words, obedience/loyalty to family is extremely important, but is secondary to obedience/ loyalty to God.

Why Is This Scriptural Theme Used? Usually our next step would be to look up this theme in a Bible dictionary, but this is unnecessary because we used a Bible dictionary in identifying the thematic backdrop of our passage in the first place (although it would be appropriate to look up things such as “nazirite” if the interpreter needs greater definition). Therefore, we are ready to ask why the gospel writer echoes the theme of honoring parents or loyalty to family in Matthew 12:46–50. What is the effect of building this scene in front of this particular biblical backdrop? To first-century readers, Jesus’ redefinition of family would have sounded quite strong in that it overturned social conventions. Jesus’ new definition would have been striking, even appalling, to people of faith in that it runs counter to one of the Ten Commandments. If the Torah

52 Reading the Synoptic Gospels instructs that those who strike, curse, or simply refuse to obey their parents be put to death, what does one who completely denies his relationship to his mother and siblings (as Jesus does) deserve? If a scriptural rationale lies behind Jesus’ redefinition, then the gospel writer is presenting Jesus as being in extraordinary circumstances analogous to combating idolatry or taking a nazirite vow (although not identical with either). Jesus’ act of familial disloyalty takes a back seat to his (and his disciples’?) radical loyalty to God (i.e., his Father in heaven). By identifying and analyzing the biblical theme of honoring parents or loyalty to family as a literary backdrop for Matthew 12:46–50, the nature of Jesus’ redefinition of family appears even more radical than it did in our socio-historical investigation of the pericope. Likewise, the importance the pericope places on the disciples as Jesus’ new core community is also increased. Thus, in this exegetical step we have uncovered a deeper level of meaning in our example text. We have yet to explore that meaning fully, but the socio-historical and literary backgrounds have pointed us to it and prepared us for the next step of that exploration.

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For Further Reading Alkier, Stefan. “Intertextuality and the Semiotics of Biblical Texts.” In Reading the Bible Intertextually, edited by Richard B. Hays, Stefan Alkier, and Leroy A. Huizenga, 3–22. Waco: Baylor, 2009. Beale, G. K. Handbook on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament: Exegesis and Introduction. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2012. Evans, Craig A. “From Prophecy to Testament: An Introduction. In From Prophecy to Testament: The Function of the Old Testament in the New, edited by Craig A. Evans, 1–22. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2004. Hays, Richard B., and Joel B. Green, “The Use of the Old Testament by New Testament Writers.” In Hearing the New Testament: Strategies for Interpretation, edited by Joel B. Green, 222–38. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995.

Chapter 4 Form and Function Biblical scholarship was radically transformed in the eighteenth century when the Enlightenment introduced a scientific epistemology that came to dominate all walks of life in the Western world. Knowledge that could be tested and proven was the only knowledge to be trusted. Therefore, in the church, revealed theology was to a great extent replaced with natural theology. In the academic setting the Bible became the subject of intense historical, critical examination. This process resulted in biblical scholars’ growing less and less confident that the Bible contained accurate historical accounts of the events it narrated. In an age when the observable, explainable phenomena were considered most real, stories of supernatural events were dismissed as primitive and mythical. This created a crisis for Christians who strove to embrace both the modern worldview and the biblical faith. Scholars pursued several approaches to overcome this crisis. One approach rooted faith and theology less in the history described in the Bible and more in the history behind the Bible. In terms of the story of Jesus, this meant harmonizing the four Gospels and removing the layers of myth and legend from the text to reconstruct the historical Jesus over against the picture of Jesus Christ found in the narratives. In the nineteenth century, many New Testament scholars produced “Lives of Jesus” that claimed to lay bare the real Jesus, his real preaching, and the real things he did. In 1906, however, Albert Schweitzer published 54

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The Quest of the Historical Jesus, which meticulously demonstrated that all these biographies of Jesus of Nazareth were little more than projections of a modern worldview onto the ancient Jesus. Instead of true reconstructions, these attempts were theologically biased constructions of a Jesus who reflected the concerns of nineteenth-century liberal theologies. At the end of his work, Schweitzer offered some of his own suggestions, picturing the historical Jesus as a thoroughgoing apocalyptic preacher. Although scholarship adopted that image to some degree, the primary effect of Schweitzer’s monograph was that it led most scholars to abandon the quest, now thinking it impossible to get all the way back to the historical Jesus. Instead, they began to look for a new historical foundation for Christian theology and faith. Form In place of using the stories and discourses of the Gospels to get back to their historical subject matter (Jesus), scholars began to analyze gospel passages in such a way as to investigate the historical context in which the written texts’ oral ancestors were used for faith purposes. In other words, they began to use the stories in the gospels to help them understand the life and preaching of the early church. If one cannot get behind the proclamation of Christ all the way back to the real historical Jesus, then one should at least get back to the earliest accessible strata of proclamation of Jesus as the Christ. The Synoptics, of course, were written around the year 70 c.e. and later, some forty to fifty years after the crucifixion and two or three decades after Paul’s earliest correspondence. (See Excursus 1.) Therefore, in their final form, the Gospels are not very helpful sources for the task of getting back to the earliest kerygma (pronounced kuh-rig-muh—Greek for “proclamation”). The individual pericopes collected, edited, organized, and pasted together by the gospel writers may well be remnants of this early preaching (since, as we have noted, Luke states clearly that he uses older sources, 1:1–4). Thus, biblical scholars began plucking these short scenes out of the biblical narratives and

56 Reading the Synoptic Gospels analyzing the manner in which they were probably used in the early church kerygma. The dictum from art and architecture that form and function are inseparable was applied to these pericopes in a methodology called formgeschichte (form-guh-shik-tuh) in German. This word is literally translated “form-history,” but the English label given to the methodology is “form criticism.” This approach operates on the assumption that by analyzing the conventional forms of stories and discourses in the Synoptic Gospels, we can gain insight into the way individual examples of those forms functioned in the life of the early church. To illustrate the strength of this approach, we shall examine a nonbiblical example: fairy tales. Fairy tales follow a basic rhetorical pattern (which is what is meant by “form”). The parts of the standard fairy tale can be easily outlined: Fairy tales begin with an introductory formula that describes an ambiguous setting; for example, “Once upon a time in a land far, far away…” The first sentence introduces the hero(es) of the story. These protagonists are usually children or nonthreatening (often domesticated) animals. Early in the story an antagonist appears. This character is usually a hoary witch or a wild, carnivorous beast. Often the antagonist appears in a frightening setting, such as a forest. Accompanying the antagonist is usually a threat to the protagonist(s). Trickery may play a role in this threat. By outwitting the antagonist or by being rescued by one stronger than the antagonist (such as a prince), the protagonist(s) narrowly escapes. Evil is always vanquished, and good always wins in fairy tales. The story ends with a concluding formula as static as the opening one: “And they lived happily ever after.”

Fairy tales share this basic structure. Nevertheless, we must be careful not to view these parts of the fairy tale form too rigidly. Fairy tales can be so short that they can be narrated in less than a minute, or can be expanded into full-length Disney animated

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films, but either extreme will share the same basic skeleton. So common is this skeleton that Steven Sondheim and James Lapine were able to combine stories such as Cinderella, the Baker and his Wife, Jack and the Bean Stalk, Rapunzel, and Little Red Riding Hood into a single Broadway musical, Into the Woods. They were also able to use the shared conventional fairy tale form to overturn the expectations of the audience. The last song of the first act is “Ever After,” and everyone does seem happy. The wolf has been killed. Cinderella and Rapunzel have their princes. The baker and his wife have their child. Jack has conquered the giant. Everything is so happy that throughout intermission, while we are standing in line for the restroom, we wonder what in the world could happen in the second act. The curtain rises to find that during the intermission the prince has been cheating on Cinderella; Rapunzel is pregnant; the Baker, his wife, and their child are cramped in their small cottage; and, worst of all, the giant’s wife has climbed down to earth to take revenge for the murder of her husband. The reason Sondheim and Lapine can hook the audience so well with the twist of happily-ever-after hitting the fan this way is not only that we know the individual plots of the individual fairy tales, but that we have unconsciously memorized the skeletal form of all fairy tales. We have done this by rote, if you will. Simply by hearing so many fairy tales, we have assimilated the fairy tale form into our narrative bones. This assimilation has been so thorough that we can easily produce an original fairy tale on demand. When a child asks us to tell her a story, and “not one of those she’s heard before, either,” we can create a fairy tale body simply by putting new muscle and sinew on the traditional fairy tale skeleton. We instinctively know the form and flow without having to pause and consciously reflect on what should come next. Biblical scholars think that ancient storytellers and preachers operated in much the same fashion. They would take traditions about Jesus’ healing a paralytic, a boy possessed by a demon, or a woman with a hemorrhage and unconsciously use a conventional form to shape it into a particular miracle story to be used

58 Reading the Synoptic Gospels for kerygmatic purposes. They would take traditions about Jesus’ baptism and transfiguration and, using a basic skeletal structure, shape them into parallel epiphany stories. And they would use parables passed down from Jesus as models for developing their own parables, which they attributed to Jesus. Function How does the recognition of the use of conventional forms in oral and written culture help us dig for deeper meaning in a synoptic pericope? Although the use of conventional form does not reduce the meaning of all similar pericopes to a single message, it does narrow the range of meaning we expect to discover in a passage. This is so because form is so closely related to function. By analyzing the form of a scene, one can identify, at least to some degree, how and in what context that scene originally functioned and therefore what kind of meaning it was intended to convey. Consider the following examples: “Did you hear the one about the traveling salesman and the farmer’s daughter?” The conventional introductory formula, as well as the traditional traveling salesman and farmer’s daughter story line, makes it clear that this is the beginning of a joke, which means this account would function as a piece of humor. The audience knows from the beginning that what they are hearing is fiction and that its job is to make them laugh. “Pssst. Did you hear that Farmer Brown’s daughter is pregnant? They say it was some out-of-towner that knocked her up.” Even though the content of these sentences is still the material of traditional farmer’s daughter jokes, the different form radically transforms the function of the material. Although a question still stands at the center of this piece of rhetoric, the tone of a whisper, the veiled “they,” and the malicious-sounding euphemism for conception (”knocked up”) all indicate that this is gossip that functions to spread illicit and potentially slanderous knowledge. Hearers know that the content is supposed to be true but is not supposed to be public knowledge. The form draws them into the small group of those who are in the know over against the many who are not.

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“Last night in the small rural town of Sylacauga, Alabama, an incident of domestic violence resulted in the hospitalization of a traveling salesman. Sources allege that local farmer Bryan Brooks shot Matthew McLaughlin when Brooks caught the twenty-three-year-old man with his sixteen-year-old daughter. As of yet, no arrests have been made.” Again, the content is similar, but now it is filled out with specific details, including times, location, and names. The ambiguous “they” of gossip has been replaced with an equally ambiguous, but more publicly acceptable, “sources.” And the tone is neither humorous nor malicious. It is neutral. This form is that of a newscast, and its function is simply to convey information of interest to the public.

The same event is described in each of these examples. They contain the same basic content, yet no one summary of the content could do all of them justice. The fact that the information concerning the salesman, the farmer, and the farmer’s daughter is formulated differently in each example means that the significance of each one is different. It is not just content, but also form that gives one the potential to evoke laughter and another to bring forth a gasp, that leads us to accept one as folly and another as reliable. In other words, form empowers content to function in a certain way. Therefore, rhetorical and narrative forms are not to be viewed as the frames in which paintings are hung. They are the brush strokes that organize all the color on the artist’s palette into a work that conveys meaning through beauty. To ignore form while one is studying a pericope is to miss out on a vital element of the meaning of the text. Analysis of the form of a passage and comparison of its form with the conventional form-types narrow our understanding of how a passage functioned when preachers first used it in the early church and how it functions for modern readers. Analyzing Form and Function The first step of form criticism on a synoptic pericope is the removal of the editorial paste. Our goal is to get back to the

60 Reading the Synoptic Gospels earliest form accessible, so we want to get rid of the material added by the individual gospel writers. We can never be sure about all the ways the gospel writers edited a piece of oral tradition they inherited, but some types of additions can be easily identified. In fact, if we are proceeding in the order suggested in this book, we have already examined these types of additions when establishing the boundaries of the pericope. The gospel writers use transitional phrases and changes of setting at the beginning and ending of pericopes to paste the individual scenes into a continuous, somewhat flowing narrative. By detaching these opening and closing connectors, we get to the older, more oral core of the scene. (When there is a parallel version of a Matthean or Lukan pericope being interpreted, the usual assumption is that Mark’s version represents the earlier form. Because we are focusing on form criticism as one step of an exegetical process instead of a methodology as an end unto itself, we will not compare versions at this point. We want to analyze the rhetorical form and function of the particular version of the pericope we are studying.) Once we have put any opening and closing pieces of editorial paste off to the side (we will pick them up again in the next exegetical step), we are ready to outline the structure of our passage. We can do several things that will help us perform this step properly. First, we may be well served to type out the passage completely in a word processor and structure it on the page in outline form, putting blank lines between the sections of the pericope and indenting smaller blocks of these larger sections. The divisions of the sections and blocks should be determined on the basis of shifts in logic or narrative focus. Because we are dealing with such short texts, the blocks will be very small, at times only part of a sentence. (Grammatical divisions are usually helpful indicators of shifts in logic.) At this point, we are trying to identify the significant elements that structure the flow of meaning. This exercise will get us visually attuned to the flow of the oral unit.

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Next we should label the blocks. These labels should be descriptive of both the content of the blocks and their function within the pericope. They should also indicate how the pieces work together so that the blocks of the passage function as a whole. Now we are ready to identify the conventional form from which our pericope takes its basic structure. Is it a conflict story, an exorcism, or a parable? To be able to do this, we must, of course, already be as consciously familiar with the various forms found in the Synoptics as we are unconsciously familiar with the fairy tale form. (The example will introduce us to one form, and Excursus 2 to the other most common forms.) We do not simply want to label the formal elements of the pericope for the sake of having a label. Storytellers in ancient oral cultures used conventional structures to narrate stories and discourse material. This does not mean all stories that share a form are reducible to the same story any more than all fairy tales are reducible to a single story in which the names have been changed to protect the innocent. The combination of conventional and unique elements makes these types of stories entertaining and/or engaging. We identify the form of a pericope so that we can compare our scene with the conventional form-type. By doing so, we can see how this particular scene is both stereotypical and unique. We can discover emphases of elements in our passage not found in the basic form. We can raise questions concerning the absence of a conventional element from our text. So here we need to compare our outline with the outline of the basic form-type and note similarities and differences. On the basis of this comparison we can conjecture how and in what setting the scene originally functioned in the kerygma of the early church. (In German, this is referred to as the Sitz im Leben [pronounced zits im lay-ben], the “setting-in-life.”) Would the story have been used to make the gospel appealing to unbelievers or to confirm the faith of those in the church? Would the discourse have been used to teach about ethics of God’s

62 Reading the Synoptic Gospels reign or the split between Christianity and Judaism? As we saw with the farmer’s daughter examples, conventional forms themselves can be identified with particular functions and contexts. By comparing the structure of an individual pericope with the conventional form shared by all pericopes of that type, we can sharpen our focus on the function of our individual passage within a particular context. Example—Matthew 12:46–50

Removal of Editorial Elements As we turn to examine the form of our example pericope, we start by removing the editorial paste from the earlier piece of oral preaching that was used in isolation. Recall that we established the boundaries of our pericope as Matthew 12:46–50, which reads, While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him. 47 Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” 48But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 50For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” 46

We look to the beginning and end for the editorial paste. The opening phrase, “While he was still speaking to the crowds,” is clearly wording added to the oral unit by the gospel writer to connect this inherited scene to the preceding section of his written narrative. The pericope ends abruptly with the words of Jesus. The gospel writer adds connective tissue at the beginning of the next passage: “That same day Jesus went out…” (13:1). Therefore, for this interpretive step we will disregard the beginning phrase and analyze the form of verse 46b (“His mother and his brothers were standing outside…”) through verse 50.

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Outlining and Labeling the Structure of the Pericope Next, we begin to outline our passage by blocking off its movements. First, we notice that there are two basic pieces of the text. His mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him. 47Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” 46b

But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 50For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” 48

The first block of material sets up the scenario: Jesus’ family is outside wanting to speak to Jesus. The second block is Jesus’ response to the scenario. But we can break these blocks into smaller pieces: His mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him.

46b

Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” 47

Scenario

64 Reading the Synoptic Gospels But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?”

48

Response

And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 50For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” 49

We find that the first movement has two parts that parallel each other. In verse 46b the narrator introduces the scenario to the readers. In verse 47 (assuming this sentence is original—recall the text critical ambiguity regarding this verse) an anonymous character makes Jesus aware of the scenario. This repetition of the scenario (indeed, near word-for-word repetition) is a formal signal clueing-in the reader to the high significance of the presence of Jesus’ family for understanding what follows. This recognition builds on that which we learned about the importance of the family in ancient culture when we investigated the socio-historical aspects of the pericope. The second movement also has two parts, but they are not parallel. The first part is a question posed by Jesus. The question stands in striking contrast to the emphasis placed on Jesus’ family in the first movement. We have been told twice that Jesus’ family is present, only to have him ask, “Who is my family?” This contrast needs resolution, which comes in the second part of the movement: Jesus’ answer to his own question. The structure of the pericope is such that the deeper meaning of the passage is to be found in this answer. Each part pushes toward this climax. If we label the parts of our outline, this becomes even clearer: Every part of the pericope focuses on Jesus’ family. The first movement simply assumes the common definition of family.

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In the first part of the second movement, Jesus questions that assumed definition. Then Jesus overturns that definition. This closing statement is most certainly the focus of the pericope.

His mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him.

46b

47 Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.”

But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?”

48

Scenario Narrator Tells Readers of Presence of Jesus’ Family Character Tells Jesus of Presence of Jesus’ Family

Response Jesus Poses Question about Identity of His Family

And pointing to his disciples, Jesus Redefines the Identity of he said, “Here are my mother His Family and my brothers! 50For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” 49

Conventional Form We need now to compare and contrast the structure we have discovered in our pericope with the conventional forms used by the early church. To do this requires some advance familiarity with those forms. Beginning interpreters do not have specialized knowledge of these forms (which come from another time and culture) comparable to our knowledge of fairy tales (from our own time and culture). But New Testament scholars have cataloged them and described their skeletal structures and functions for us. (See Excursus 2.)

66 Reading the Synoptic Gospels The form of our pericope is given different labels by different scholars—apothegms, chreia, and pronouncement stories. This last label is the simplest and most descriptive, highlighting the fact that in all examples of this form, the focus is on Jesus’ final pronouncement. The skeletal structure of the conventional pronouncement story is very simple. The structure has two primary movements: the setup and the pronouncement. The setup can take many forms. It can be some action Jesus observes, such as a widow placing her last penny in the temple offering plate (Mk. 12:41–44). It can include a healing like that of the paralytic (Lk. 5:17–26) or that of the woman with the hemorrhage (Mt. 9:20–22). Or it can be a comment or question asked of Jesus by either a disciple (Mk. 10:35–45), a potential disciple (Lk. 18:18–30), or an opponent (Mt. 12:1–8). Indeed, so many pronouncement stories involve opponents that scholars are justified in identifying a subcategory of pronouncement stories that are called conflict or controversy stories (e.g., in 11:27—12:40 Mark collects together such conflict stories to set the stage for Jesus’ arrest and execution). The pronouncement is just that—Jesus’ authoritative declaration, which was evoked by the setup. It is, literally, the final word of the scene. The setup is unimportant on its own terms; it is included to serve the pronouncement. The pronouncement is the punch line that draws the story to a close and stays in the mind of the hearer. This pronouncement, however, can take several forms—it can be a brief statement, a question addressed back to the questioner, even a parable (which is a form in its own right). The simple twofold structure of the conventional form of a pronouncement story allows for a great deal of variation and adaptation of that form in individual pericopes. Our analysis of the form of Matthew 12:46–50 demonstrates that our pericope follows the twofold structure of pronouncement stories closely, but develops each of those parts into subparts. Some pronouncement stories alter the structure of the conventional form much more radically. For example, in Luke

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5:17–26 a pronouncement story and a healing story are mixed together. In this case, the pronouncement is not literally the last word in the sense that it precedes the healing, but the healing gives evidence and support to the pronouncement so that the pronouncement is the clear point of the pericope. In our pericope, however, the conventional form is closely followed: His mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him.

46b

Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.”

Setup (Scenario) Narrator Tells Readers of Presence of Jesus’ Family

47

But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?”

48

And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 50For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” 49

Character Tells Jesus of Presence of Jesus’ Family

Pronouncement (Response) Jesus Poses Question about Identity of His Family

Jesus Redefines the Identity of His Family

In addition to seeing how the parts of a pericope work together, we analyze form to gain a deeper understanding of how the pericope functions as a whole. Scholars argue that in the early church kerygma, the Sitz im Leben was less for proclamation to those outside the church and more for those inside. In other words, pronouncement stories functioned to present Jesus’ teachings not so much for evangelistic purposes as for

68 Reading the Synoptic Gospels undergirding the faith and practice of those already inside the church. They applied Jesus’ teachings to specific issues facing the church. For example, controversy stories (a subcategory of pronouncement stories) generally dealt with conflicts between Christianity and its parent, Judaism. The stories presented issues that were current for the early church as if Jesus had addressed them during his ministry. All the stories about conflicts between Jesus and the Jewish authorities over Sabbath practices reflect more the struggles of the early church than those of Jesus’ own day. We can imagine how first-century preachers addressed these issues by telling stories about how Jesus would address them if he were still around (just as people of faith today might ask themselves, What would Jesus want me to do in this circumstance?) or by applying sayings of Jesus to their current situation (just as people of faith apply words of Jesus to modern issues that were not around when Jesus first taught). Although Matthew 12:46–50 is not a conflict story, it does clearly address people inside the church, not those outside. We have seen that every part of the pericope deals with the issue of family. We can imagine how early Christians might have been torn between allegiance to family and allegiance to their new community of faith, especially if their families did not convert with them. By describing Jesus as pointing to the disciples and defining his “family” in relation to his Father in heaven over against his mother and brothers standing outside, the early church preachers who used this story may have been attempting to replace family with the community of faith as the most important social unit for its members. This interpretation stands in line with the observations drawn in earlier exegetical steps. On the other hand, we can also imagine this pronouncement story being used in a very different way in the early church. What if some early Christians did not choose to leave their families but were ostracized by them because of their joining this new religion and forsaking the beliefs and practices of their forebears? To test this possibility, we should turn again to a Bible dictionary.

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If we look up “persecution,” we find the following statement: Jesus spoke of “persecutions” coming upon his followers (Matt. 5:10–12; 10:23). This is best understood as the domestic hostility in family and synagogue caused by conversion to a new faith. Jesus did “not come to bring peace, but a sword” (Matt. 10:34), dividing households and causing financial and social loss to his followers. Because of their distinctive faith, Jesus’ followers might lose “house, brothers, sisters, mother, father, children, and lands” (Mark 10:29). The problem is domestic: “a man’s foes will be those of his household” (Matt. 10:36). (HarperCollins Bible Dictionary, rev. & updated, edited by Paul J. Achtemeier, [San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1996].)

Indeed, some Christians were ostracized by their unconverted families. To such Christians, Jesus’ pronouncement would have been heard as comfort instead of a command or call: Christ brings those orphaned by the faith into a new family with God as the Father. If we find this conjecture concerning the pericope’s function within the early church kerygma to be more convincing, we may want to reconsider the translation issue in verse 49 raised earlier when we worked at establishing the translation. By understanding the pericope as an expression of comfort, we wonder if Jesus was not simply “pointing” (NRSV and NIV) to his disciples but was “stretching his hand” (NABRE) toward them in the fashion of a benediction. Our form critical analysis does not (and indeed cannot) resolve the tension between reading this pericope as a challenge or as a word of consolation. We must withhold making our choice until we have explored other layers of meaning in the passage through the use of other exegetical steps. Thus, we are now ready to move to the next step, which will shift our focus away from the early church oral kerygma and back to the individual gospel writer’s conceptualization of the good news. As we move ahead, one of the interpretations will be confirmed or the tension will be heightened.

70 Reading the Synoptic Gospels For Further Reading Hayes, John H., and Carl R. Holladay. “Form Criticism: The Genre and Life Setting of the Text.” In Biblical Exegesis: A Beginner’s Handbook, 3rd ed., 104–14. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2007. McKnight, Edgar V. “Form and Redaction Criticism.” In The New Testament and Its Modern Interpreters, edited by E. J. Epp and G. W. MacRae, 149–74. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989. Sanders, E. P., and Margaret Davies. “Form Criticism.” In Studying the Synoptic Gospels, 123–97. London/Philadelphia: SCM/Trinity Press International, 1989.

Excursus 2 Conventional Forms In chapter 4 we discussed form criticism and were introduced in some detail to one conventional form: the Pronouncement Story. A pronouncement story has two major movements. The first is the setup, which can consist of some action Jesus observes, a healing, or a comment made to or question asked of or about Jesus. A disciple, a potential disciple, or an opponent may raise the question or make the comment. The second movement is the pronouncement itself, Jesus’ authoritative declaration evoked by the setup. It can be a brief statement, a question addressed back to the questioner, a parable, or a longer discourse. Because one of the major steps of form criticism is comparing the rhetorical structure of a pericope with a conventional form-type to see how the pericope adheres to the form and how it varies the form, we need to have the same sort of introductory grasp of other form-types that appear frequently in the Synoptic Gospels as we have of the pronouncement story. Sayings: Not all pronouncements in pronouncement stories were originally embedded in a narrative or dialogical context. Clearly, individual sayings of Jesus (scholars often refer to these sayings with the Greek word “logia” [plural] or “logion” [singular]) were circulated and developed by the early church. These sayings could be exhortations to moral, ethical action; proverbs; metaphors, similes, or other types of figurative speech (for descriptions of some figures of speech, see Excursus 3); apocalyptic sayings; analogies; or parables. 71

72 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Not only were such sayings used as the punch lines in pronouncement stories, they were also collected with other sayings that were similar in either form or theme. For example, Matthew has collected sayings concerned with possessions and God’s providential care in one section of the Sermon on the Mount (6:19–34). Such collections are often loosely constructed. The interpreter must recognize the breaks between one saying and the next and be able to determine the connecting phrases added by the editor to make the sayings flow together as a single unit. Parables: Another such collection of Jesus’ sayings is found in Mark 4:1–34 and is paralleled and expanded in Matthew 13:1–52 (and somewhat in Luke 8:4–18). This is a collection of parables. Parables, of course, are found in many other places throughout the Synoptic Gospels. The parables found in the Synoptic Gospels do not share as obvious a conventional form-type as we found with pronouncement stories. They can be extended metaphors (Mt. 13:31–33), example stories (Lk. 10:30–37), or allegories (Mk. 4:1–9, 13–20). They do share formal qualities that deserve attention from a form-critical viewpoint. First, it will be helpful to choose a definition that fits the range of parables in the gospels. If we look up “parables” in our New Interpreter’s Bible Dictionary, we find a nine-page entry written by Charles W. Hedrick. The length shows how much scholarly attention has been given to parables and how complicated a matter it is to define or describe them. The introductory paragraph to the essay includes these words: The term parable is a transliteration of the Gk. parabolē, which signifies a comparison; literally it is something cast (ballō) alongside (para) (vol. 4, p. 368).

Later describing the role of parables specifically in the Synoptic Gospels, Hedrick writes, In the Synoptic Gospels, narratives, proverbs, simple straightforward discourse, and other sayings with a proverbial character are designated “parable,” which generally means for the evangelists that they have a deeper religious significance. Thus early Christian literature appears to designate as “par-

Excursus: Conventional Forms 73 able” any saying of Jesus whose meaning is not immediately clear in terms of Christian faith and theology. Jesus, being who he was in the faith of the church, simply would not traffic in superficial discourse; therefore what appears to be banal language is judged to be figurative or comparative discourse and is given a deeper significance (p. 369).

Building on these comments, I propose a definition that is adapted from one offered by C. H. Dodd in his classic work, The Parables of the Kingdom (New York: Scribner, 1961): A parable is a narrative metaphor or simile drawn from nature or common life, which arrests the hearer by its vividness or strangeness and leaves the mind in sufficient doubt about its precise interpretation or application to tease it into active thought even to the point of altering one’s worldview.

As metaphors and similes, parables compare something that is unfamiliar with something that is familiar. The elements that would have been familiar to first-century hearers/readers deal with animal husbandry (Mt. 18:10–14), travel (Lk. 10:29–37), labor (Mt. 20:1–16), feasts (Lk. 14:15–24), family (Lk. 15:11–32), commerce (Mt. 13:45–46), farming (Mk. 4:1–9), patron relationships (Mt. 18:23–35), the justice system (Lk. 18:1–8), and such. Usually the familiar is put into new perspective, or it is twisted or even broken. Thus, the mustard seed grows not into a small mustard plant but a great shrub/tree with branches in which birds make nests (Mk. 4:30–32). A Samaritan, and not a Jewish priest or Levite, is the example of faith and charity (Lk. 10:29–37). Those who work only an hour get paid the same amount (a full day’s wage) as those who work all day (Mt. 20:1–16). This unexpected quality of the familiar is what especially illuminates the unfamiliar side of the comparison. The unfamiliar side is often identified in a formula with which the parable begins: “The reign of God/heaven is like…” Thus, parables describe Ultimate Reality. Describe, not define. You cannot “define” a way of being in the world, a value system, an orientation toward existence as it ought to be instead of how it actually is, a hope for God’s redemption of times to come. A definition is explicit, exact, and comprehensive. A parabolic

74 Reading the Synoptic Gospels description, on the other hand, is implicit, partial, multivalent, and even ambivalent. It hints at, narrates, and evokes meaning instead of diagramming and detailing it. It paints an impressionist picture of reality instead of offering instructions on how to be real. Miracle Stories: Stories in which Jesus is able to defy the laws of nature demonstrate his power, confirm his status as Messiah, and serve as signs of the nearness of the reign of God. Miracle stories picture Jesus walking on water (Mt. 14:22–33), multiplying bread and fish (Mk. 6:35–44), and stilling a storm (Lk. 8:22–25). Most of the miracle stories, however, focus on Jesus’ healing power. Like the pronouncement stories, a basic form of a conventional healing miracle can be identified as follows: The first movement of a healing pericope is the meeting of the person in need of healing and Jesus, the healer. As the ill person is introduced, so is her or his illness. (In fact, usually little beyond the illness is used to describe the person.) The description can be a simple label (such as a leper, Mk. 1:40) or more detailed (a woman with a hemorrhage for twelve years, Mt. 9:20). The more severe the illness, the more difficult the healing, and thus the greater the threat to success and the greater Jesus’ power appears when the healing is successful (Mt. 9:18, 23–24). Other barriers often threaten the success of healing in a similar fashion (e.g., others’ attempting to keep the one in need of healing away from Jesus, Lk. 18:39). The second movement of a healing story is the act of healing itself. This act may involve a physical gesture (Mk. 8:23, 25), a vocal command (Lk. 7:14), or both (Mt. 9:29). The act of touch is especially significant, since usually Jesus would be making contact with someone considered unclean (Mk. 1:41). The third movement is a demonstration of success. The paralytic walks (e.g., Mt. 9:7), the blind see (Mk. 8:22, 25), the one with skin disease is cleansed (Lk. 17:14). This is usually little more than a statement that the healing has taken place. The final movement of a healing miracle is recognition/ testimony by witnesses. Again, this element is usually a brief note that the crowd was amazed (Mk. 2:12).

Excursus: Conventional Forms 75 The overall form of a healing miracle story can be very brief and simple (Mt. 8:14–15): 14

When Jesus entered Peter’s house, he saw his mother-in-law lying in bed with a fever;

Meeting

15

he touched her hand, and the fever left her,

Act of Healing

and she got up and began to serve him.

Demonstration of Success [Recognition: this element is not found in this pericope.]

Or the elements of the form can be quite detailed (Mk. 7:32–37): 32

They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him.

Meeting

33

He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. 34 Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.”

Act of Healing

And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly.

Demonstration of Success

35

Recognition Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. 37 They were astounded beyond measure, saying, “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”

36

76 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Or the miracle story can be a mixed form. For example, Luke 5:17–26 is a miracle story and a pronouncement story combined. Exorcisms: A subcategory of healing miracles that share the basic formal elements of other healing stories but have enough unique characteristics and are sufficiently prevalent in the Synoptic Gospels to deserve mention. The first movement of an exorcism story is the meeting of the demoniac and Jesus, the exorcist. This movement may include a description of the severity and/or length of the possession (Mk. 9:17–18, 21–22). The second movement is an encounter between the demon and Jesus. Two elements that often appear as part of this movement are (1) a recognition of Jesus’ true identity and power by the demon, and (2) Jesus silencing the demon (Mk. 1:24–25). The third movement is the exorcism itself. This act is usually a verbal command for the demon to leave the possessed (Mt. 8:32). The fourth movement is a demonstration of success. Usually there is a physical disturbance as the spirit departs (Lk. 4:35b). The final movement is recognition/testimony by witnesses (Lk. 8:34–37; cf. Mk. 5:14–17, where the crowd’s response is fear).

Chapter 5 Theological Editing In the last chapter we saw that the gospel writers collected short oral and written accounts of scenes from the life and ministry of Christ and pasted them together into a single narrative. When analyzing the form of a gospel pericope, we isolate it from its narrative context, strip it of any editorial additions to its beginning and end, and explore the possibility of the function of the original oral unit within the early church kerygma. In other words, in form criticism we primarily focus on the layer of meaning found in a passage that comes from its precontextualized stage. We now turn our attention to a layer of meaning that is discovered by focusing on the contextualized form of the pericope. Instead of stripping away the editorial paste, in this exegetical step we value the editorial work as a sign of the individual gospel writer’s unique theological intent. The Editorial Situation As far as we know, Mark is the earliest written gospel. This means he is to be credited with the initial collection of the small scenes from the ministry of Jesus into a unified story describing the Christ event. He recorded, edited, and pasted the scenes together in such a way that traditional, inherited material became a radical, new expression of one author’s theology.

77

78 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Matthew and Luke independently used the Gospel of Mark as their primary source for composing their own (longer) narratives. (For a brief description of the literary relationship of the Gospels, see Excursus 1.) They followed some of Mark’s outline, modified parts (rearranging individual pericopes), and radically departed from it in some sections of their narratives (e.g., in the so-called Travel Narrative found in Lk. 9:51—19:27). They copied some of Mark’s pericopes word for word, modified most of them, omitted a few, and added many others (especially sayings material—most of which a majority of New Testament scholars argue came from another major source for both Matthew and Luke, “Q”). In this situation we see that Matthew and Luke valued Mark enough to depend on it greatly, but changed it because they ultimately found it inadequate—theologically inadequate—to address the socio-religious needs of the particular communities of faith they were addressing. Therefore, they put a heavy editorial hand to Mark’s material to shape the story of the Christ event in accordance with their own theologies and new ecclesiastical situations. The method of gospel interpretation that focuses on the editorial work of the gospel writers is called redaction (reedak-shun) criticism. Again, the methodology and the label are German in origin. Redaktionsgeschichte is literally translated “editing history” or “history of editing.” This methodology is a historical endeavor (like Formgeschichte) because this step is still interested in something behind the text. Even though we are now concerned with the final form of the text, as opposed to the pre-contextualized form of individual pericopes, our interest is in the editor who put the text together. Why did this person who stands behind the text change this wording? Why did he add/ omit that phrasing, pericope, or section? What is the theological reason for his editorial work? In other words, in this exegetical step our interest shifts from the proclamation of the early church to the gospel writer’s intention in shaping the pericope into its final, narratively contextualized form.

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Redaction Criticism The redaction critical phase of gospel interpretation involves two main steps. The first is the identification and analysis of the editorial work present in the individual pericope we are studying. This is done in different ways depending on the relationship our pericope has with the other two Synoptic Gospels: Comparing Focus Pericope with Its Source If our passage is in Matthew or Luke and has a parallel passage in Mark, we simply consult a synopsis to compare it with the Markan version to determine what changes the gospel writer made to the Markan text. These changes include changes in both placement in the broader narrative context and wording within the pericope. If our passage has a parallel in the other synoptic gospel, we should compare our text with the other synoptic parallel as well as the one in Mark. Comparing Focus Pericope with an Independent Parallel If our passage is a “Q” text and appears in both Matthew and Luke but not in Mark, we compare our version with the other one. Since we do not have the original “Q” text, we cannot directly observe editorial changes made by Matthew or Luke as we can in the previous scenario. Nevertheless, by comparing Matthew’s version with the parallel in Luke (or vice versa) we can gain insight into the unique features of the final form of our pericope. (Similarly, if our pericope appears in Mark and has a parallel in Matthew and/ or Luke, we can compare them but must recognize that Matthew and Luke used Mark as their source. By noticing changes Matthew or Luke made to Mark, we may be able to identify some Markan editorial tendencies. These would have to be confirmed by other means [see description of the next relationship].) Examining Editorial Elements of a Pericope with No Parallel If the passage we are studying appears only in one of the Synoptics—in other words, any pericope that has no earlier or contemporary parallel with which to be compared—then

80 Reading the Synoptic Gospels we can do two things to observe the editor’s hand at work, both of which build on our form critical work. First, we ask a question concerning the editorial paste at the beginning and end of the passage, which we had temporarily discarded in the last step. What intent is being signaled in the way the editor is attaching the pericope to its narrative context? Second, we use our comparison of the form of our pericope with the conventional form of that type of pericope to point to the editor’s work. Why has he modified this part of the form or added that element to it?

The second step of redaction criticism is the comparison of the editorial work we have discovered in our pericope with the editorial patterns found throughout the narrative. This exercise will help us see the theological import of editorial work in our passage by connecting it with broader theological motifs in the narrative. To some degree we must rely on the experts on our gospel to inform us about these editorial patterns and theological motifs. The introductions to the Gospel and notes on our pericope in our annotated Bible, introductions in our commentary, and discussion of our passage in the commentary should all help us view the editorial changes we have found in their broader context. Again, we should be careful not to become too dependent on the work of others. After all, our goal is to discover our interpretation of the passage, not just to understand someone else’s interpretation of it. So where do we turn to investigate the editorial patterns of a synoptic gospel? First, we turn to our concordance. We need to look up every significant word, topic (which means we may need to consider synonyms), character, and place in our passage to see how it is used throughout the gospel. The same advice that was offered when we considered what was significant enough to merit our attention in the socio-historical step applies here: Look up more than at first seems important. Small things become significant when used repeatedly. For example, in a Markan pericope you probably would not think the word “immediately” is important enough to look up in a concordance; but if you went

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to the trouble to do so, you would find that it appears in Mark twenty-seven times, with most of the occurrences concentrated in the first nine chapters. So the use of “immediately” gives not only a rushed feel to the action within an individual Markan pericope, it is part of an editorial pattern in which Mark describes the action of Jesus’ ministry as speeding along from event to event. Second, we need to read the entire gospel through to discover editorial patterns that are more linked to themes than to vocabulary. If someone is interested in interpretation at the level we are discussing in this book, he or she is likely to have already read the gospels through and become familiar with some of their major themes and patterns. As part of this exegetical step, we need to read through Matthew, Mark, or Luke quickly in one sitting, scanning the narrative with an eye particularly attentive to the kinds of editorial emphases we have found in our pericope. We make note of anything that shares wording, ideas, or themes with our passage. (Indeed, this step may lead us to identify editorial elements in our pericope that we had assumed to be traditional or unimportant elements in the previous step.) Returning to our example concerning Mark’s use of “immediately,” by reading through Mark we would realize that the rushing effect supports Mark’s apocalyptic sense of urgency set forth in the summary of Jesus’ preaching in 1:15: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

Since the first half of Mark focuses on Jesus’ preaching ministry in Galilee, it is natural that the use of “immediately” is concentrated in the early chapters of the narrative. Analysis of the editorial work within the pericope and identification of editorial patterns throughout the gospel are the two parts of redaction criticism. This redaction critical step of interpretation is fairly easy to describe, but this does not mean it is a quick step to perform. It is a detailed process that, when done thoroughly, offers the interpreter great insight into the theological depth of a pericope. This can best be seen when we apply it to our example text.

82 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Example: Matthew 12:46–50

Identification of Matthew’s Editorial Work in the Pericope We start our redaction criticism by identifying and analyzing the editorial work within our pericope. In our form critical step, we found only a transitional redactional phrase at the beginning of the passage. This phrase is of little significance. Next with the help of a synopsis we compare our pericope with parallel texts in the other Synoptics. Using Throckmorton’s Gospel Parallels (as duplicated on the next page), we find that Matthew 12:46–50 is pericope 89 on page 73 and is titled “Jesus’ True Relatives.” Immediately, we notice that all three gospels contain this pericope, which means we are dealing with the first scenario described earlier. Matthew had the Markan version as the source for our passage, so in our comparison we are primarily interested in observing how Matthew edited Mark’s text. However, Luke also used Mark’s text as the source of his version, so we will want to glance at Luke’s editorial work to highlight Matthew’s unique qualities all the more. The first thing we should notice in our comparisons is the headings. In pericope 89, the headings for the Matthean and Markan columns are in bold, while the Lukan heading is not bolded and is in italics. The bold print headings indicate that the Matthean and Markan versions of this scene are presented here in the order in which they appear in their narratives. The heading in italics (with the text in italics as well) indicates that the Lukan parallel presented here in the synopsis for the sake of comparison is taken out of its narrative order—in other words, Luke’s version of the scene occurs in a different narrative context than the versions in Mark and Matthew. In parentheses in the Lukan heading are the pericope and page numbers to help us locate that passage in its proper narrative context as found in the synopsis. (Other synopses will use different fonts and symbols to indicate the same sorts of things.)

Theological Editing MAT 12:46-50

LUK 8:19-21

MAR 3:31-35

(§104, p. 80)

s 3:23-30 (§86, p. 70)

While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him.

83

46

Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him.

31

19

A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.”

but they could not reach him because of the crowd. 20 And he was told, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to see you.”

32

Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” 48 But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49 And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 50 For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” 47

And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” 34 And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 35 Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” 33

Then his mother and his brothers came to him,

21

But he said to them,

“My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.”

We begin with our comparison of Matthew and Mark and concentrate at first on the issue of placement. Just because the synopsis here presents both the Matthean and Markan versions

84 Reading the Synoptic Gospels in their proper order does not mean that the two versions share the same context. Matthew may have added or omitted Markan material before or after the passage. If we look at the preceding pericope (number 88, “The Return of the Unclean Spirit”), we find Matthew 12:43–45 in bold, Luke 11:24–26 in italics, and Mark’s column empty. This means that although Matthew is basically following Mark’s ordering of his pericopes, at this point he has inserted sayings material (from “Q”) in between some Markan passages. Underneath the Mark 3:31–35 heading appears a note in small print that reads, “s3:23–30 (86, p. 70).” This tells us that we must go back a few pages to pericope 86, “A House Divided,” to find the Markan passage (3:23–30) that precedes the Markan version of “Jesus’ True Relatives.” When we glance at this passage, we notice that verse 23 begins, “And he called them to him, and spoke to them in parables.” Even though Throckmorton has delineated verse 23 as the beginning of a new pericope, the reference to “them” shows that Jesus is addressing someone just mentioned by the narrator. Thus, we must back up yet again to Mark 3:19b–22, pericope 85, “Accusations Against Jesus,” if we are going to compare Matthew’s placement of our pericope with the context of Mark’s version. This trouble proves worth the effort, for by backing up to these verses, we find something important. Mark 3:19b–21 reads: Then he went home; 20and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. 21When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, “He has gone out of his mind.” (Italics added.)

19b

Mark introduces the issue of Jesus’ family in these verses, goes on to describe Jesus’ controversy with the scribes, and then returns to the issue in verses 31–35. Although Matthew does include a version of the controversy story, he does not include any material about Jesus’ family before our passage. He has removed the sandwich structure. Our interpretive task is to ask why he has done this. To understand Matthew’s intent in making this editorial alteration, we must first determine why Mark edited the pericopes in the way he did. Here is a perfect example of how knowledge of

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editorial patterns helps us interpret an individual pericope. Mark has a pattern of splitting a pericope to insert another between the two pieces (e.g., 5:21–43; 11:12–25). By sandwiching one pericope inside another, the editor pushes us to view the pieces as related, to interpret the two pericopes over against each other. Therefore, the text in Mark 3 that we are considering has the following sandwich structure: Then he went home; 20and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. 21When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, “He has gone out of his mind.” And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, “He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons.” 23And he called them to him, and spoke to them in parables, “How can Satan cast out Satan? 24If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. 25And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. 26And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come. 27But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered. 28Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; 29but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”—30for they had said, “He has an unclean spirit.” 22

Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. 32A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” 33And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” 34And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 35Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” 31

By forcing us to read the scene concerning Jesus’ family in conjunction with the scribes’ accusation of Jesus as one who casts out demons through the power of Satan, Mark urges us to see the actions of Jesus’ family and the accusations of the scribes as

86 Reading the Synoptic Gospels related. As the scribes are mistaken about the source of Jesus’ power, so is his family wrong to try to restrain him because of talk that he is out of his mind. By placing these characters side by side, the editor shows that Jesus’ family knew him (christologically speaking) no better than did his opponents. By deleting the first piece of Mark’s description of Jesus’ family (Mk. 3:19b–21), Matthew cleans up the image of his kin. When Jesus’ mother and brothers appear in Mark 3:31, we know they have come to try to stop him. Thus, Jesus’ harsh response makes sense. His family has turned on him, and now he turns to a new family. When Jesus’ mother and brothers appear in Matthew 12:46, the readers have no reason to assume that they have come for a negative purpose. They could have as easily come to have a family visit or join his band of disciples as to have come to restrain him. Matthew provides no motive whatsoever for their desire to speak to Jesus, and redaction criticism teaches us not to import a motive from another gospel into Matthew’s text. If Matthew does not provide us with a motive, then a motive is not a key to interpreting the pericope. In Mark’s text, Jesus’ response can be read as a counter-rejection of his family, but not so in Matthew. By omitting Mark 3:19b–21 from his narrative, Matthew has presented the family as more favorable characters, and made Jesus’ response to their presence all the more striking. In examining Matthew’s placement of our example pericope, we have looked at what precedes our passage. Now we must compare what follows. Pericope 90 is “The Parable of the Sower” and appears in both Matthew 13:1–19 and Mark 4:1–9. In fact, if we scan the headings of the pericopes on the next few pages of our synopsis, we find that Matthew 13 parallels Mark 4 in that both are a collection of Jesus’ parables. Therefore, Matthew has not changed the context of our pericope in relation to what follows, only to what precedes. Having examined Matthew’s editorial work in relation to the placement of our pericope, we are now ready to look for his hand in editing the content within the pericope. The easiest way to note the differences between two texts in a synopsis is to mark them with colored pencils. In the text that follows, how-

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ever we have marked Matthean additions and changes with an underline and have marked elements deleted from Mark with a strikethrough. We have not marked differences that are simply of a stylistic nature, but only those that potentially impact the meaning(s) of the pericope. MAT 12:46-50

MAR 3:31-35 s 3:23-30 (§86, p. 70)

While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him.

46

Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him.

31

A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” 32

Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” 48 But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49 And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 50 For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” 47

Since Mt. omitted Mk 3:19b–21, he must show the relationship between this scene and the previous one. Not needed since crowds are mentioned in v. 46. Mt. omits Jesus’ sisters.

Mt. replaces the crowd speaking with 33 And he replied, a single anonymous “Who are my mother person. and my brothers?” 34 And looking at those who sat Mt. replaces the around him, he said, vague reference to “Here are those sitting around my mother him to “his and my brothers! disciples.” 35 Whoever does the will of Mt. changes “God” God to “my Father in is my brother and heaven.” sister and mother.”

88 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Before we compare our pericope with Luke’s version of this scene, we need to note those things we have observed so far in order that we may know what to look up in our concordance and what to look for when we read through Matthew quickly. Since Matthew omitted Mark 3:19b–21, even more weight is placed on Jesus’ pronouncement in verses 49–50 than our form analysis first revealed. We are going to want to look for family language throughout Matthew. Matthew keeps Mark’s reference to sisters when Jesus redefines family loyalties (Mt. 12:50//Mk. 3:35), but deletes any mention of sisters as being a part of Jesus’ family of origin (Mt. 12:47//Mk. 3:32). Perhaps Matthew had different historical knowledge than Mark concerning whether Jesus actually had sisters. Regardless, the omission of “sisters” in verse 47 does not change the meaning of the passage significantly. Matthew’s choice to change “those who sat around him” (Mk. 3:34) to “disciples” in 12:49 is related to the way he has connected the pericope with the preceding scene. Verse 46 begins, “While he was still speaking to the crowds.” We must back up to verses 23–24 to find out who these “crowds” are: All the crowds were amazed and said, “Can this be the Son of David?” But when the Pharisees heard it, they said, “It is only by Beelzebul, the ruler of the demons, that this fellow casts out the demons.”

The crowds are unsure about who Jesus is and so cannot be identified as those in Jesus’ new family. Since Matthew chooses to narrow the reference to “disciples,” we should explore the role of disciples in his gospel. In verse 50, Matthew changes “God” (in Mk. 3:35) to “my Father in heaven.” While these words might have a synonymous ring to us, we have already seen how “Father” plays on the family theme in the pericope. Thus, the shift seems to be deliberate. This should be explored further. Before we turn to the concordance and read Matthew through quickly, however, we want to do a cursory comparison

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of Matthew’s and Luke’s versions of our pericope. We need not be thorough because Matthew is in no way directly dependent on Luke, and thus no claims can be made that Matthew changed Luke for this or that reason. We simply want to look at the two versions side by side to see if some distinctive quality of the Matthean text comes into focus that we have yet to notice. First, we look at issues of placement. Luke’s version of this pronouncement story is found in 8:19–21. Instead of narrating it just prior to the collection of parables, as is done in Matthew and Mark, Luke places this scene at the end of his version of this collection of parables (Lk. 8:4–18) and has no parallel to Mark 3:19b–21. Therefore, Luke’s version is even more removed from a conflict setting than Matthew’s—there is no introduction to the family as trying to restrain Jesus, nor does it follow on the heels of the Beelzebul controversy. Let us turn from context to content. (Please see chart on next page.) Similar to our comparison with Mark, we will mark elements in Matthew different from Luke’s wording with an underline and elements of Luke missing from Matthew with a strikethrough. We will attend not to stylistic differences but to changes in meaning. If Luke’s version of this scene was our focus, we would proceed in a different manner; but our interest is solely in Matthew’s version. So our question now concerns what this comparison brings to light about Matthew’s pericope (not Luke’s). The fact that Luke omits Jesus’ referring to those sitting around him (Lk. 8:21 as compared to Mk. 3:34) while Matthew focuses on disciples (12:49) confirms our need to look at the disciples’ role in the Gospel of Matthew. Luke’s substitution of “hear the word of God and do it” for language of doing God’s “will” may point to a Lukan editorial pattern. What this important linguistic change does for us as interpreters of Matthew, however, is to highlight the fact that Matthew retains Mark’s language of God’s will. It might be worthwhile to check our concordance for language of God’s will throughout Matthew.

90 Reading the Synoptic Gospels LUK 8:19-21

MAT 12:46-50 While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him.

(§104, p. 80)

46

Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” 48 But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49 And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 50 For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” 47

Then his mother and his brothers came to him,

19

but they could not reach him because of the crowd. 20 And he was told, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to see you.” 21

But he said to them,

“My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.”

Luke clarifies why the family is not interacting with Jesus.

Luke reshapes Mark’s version of Jesus’ pronouncement (followed by Matt.) so that it does not refer to anyone with Jesus.

Luke keeps Mark’s language of God, but changes language of “will” to “word of God.”

Related Editorial Patterns throughout Matthew Now we are ready to turn our attention away from the comparison of Matthew with the other Synoptic Gospels to searching

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for editorial patterns within Matthew that influence our understanding of Matthew 12:46–50. We begin by using an analytical concordance to track whether editorial vocabulary found in this pericope has theological import throughout the gospel. We will use our first concordance search as our example and comment on it in detail. Afterward, we will simply summarize our other searches. (We are using The Analytical Concordance to the New Revised Standard Version of the New Testament, edited by John R. Kohlenberger III and Richard Whitaker, mentioned in the section on “Additional Resources” in the Introduction above.) Family: Since “mother” is the first family term to appear in the pericope, we will look it up first in the concordance. (We must be careful to look for all forms of the word—singular, plural, possessive. Some concordances put these together, and others separate them.) In our Analytical Concordance, the heading for “mother” looks like this: Mother See also kill one’s mother 1. Contextual: not in Greek. 2. μἠτηρ, mētēr, 3613 3. ὁ, ho, 3836 Notes on the same line as the entry provides other entries that the student must check to do a full concordance search. In this case, Matthew does not use the phrase or a version of “kill one’s mother,” so we can move on. The numbered list immediately under the heading indicates different Greek words or situations that the NRSV translates as “mother.” The first item, for instance, indicates that there are places in the Greek where mother is understood but not written so the English translators provide it. The second and third items have the Greek written out with an English transcription. Each is also followed by a number that corresponds to a Greek-English index at the back of the volume. Quickly scanning down the list of occurrences in Matthew, we see that beside every one is the numeral 2, indicating that we need not worry about the first or third Greek possibility.

92 Reading the Synoptic Gospels The following verses in Matthew, then, are listed as containing “mother” (mētēr): 1:18; 2:11, 13, 14, 20, 21; 10:35, 37; 12:46, 47, 48, 49, 50; 13:55; 14:8, 11; 15:4 (twice), 5; 19:5, 19, 29; 20:20; 27:56 (twice). We have already examined the occurrences in chapter 12. Now we need to look up and categorize the rest to see what we can learn about how the term is used in our passage. At times “mother” refers to Mary (1:18; 2:11, 13, 14, 20, 21; 13:55). Other times it refers to other specific mothers (14:8, 11; 20:20; 27:56). The other occurrences of “mother” refer to the category of mother more generally and will be helpful in interpreting our text. We will cite the texts below and then comment. (By finding these texts in the synopsis, we discover that all the passages that follow either come from Mark or are “Q” material. Matthew did not include every pericope at his disposal [e.g., Mk. 3:26–29; 8:22–26; 9:38–41; and 12:41–44 are omitted from Matthew’s narrative]. Therefore, the inclusion of language, whether from his own pen or taken from a source, is an editorial choice made by Matthew.) We have marked “mother” in bold print and have noticed that other familial terminology often appears in the same context and have marked it as well. .

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. 35For I have come to set a man against his father, / and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; 36 and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household. 37 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; 38and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. 39Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” (paralleled in Lk. 12:51–53; 14:26–27) 10:34

This passage certainly reinforces Jesus’ redefinition of family in our pericope. As our passage portrays tension between Jesus and his family, this pericope makes clear that this same tension will be found in the families of all people of faith. To align yourself with Christ (Is this Matthew’s definition of being a “disciple”?) implies alienation from those you were close to before.

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Then Pharisees and scribes came to Jesus from Jerusalem and said, 2“Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders? For they do not wash their hands before they eat.” 3He answered them, “And why do you break the commandment of God for the sake of your tradition? 4For God said, ‘Honor your father and your mother,’ and, ‘Whoever speaks evil of father or mother must surely die.’ 5But you say that whoever tells father or mother, ‘Whatever support you might have had from me is given to God,’ then that person need not honor the father. 6So, for the sake of your tradition, you make void the word of God…” (Mt. 15:1–6; from Mk. 7:1–13.) 15:1

This Matthean passage is in tension with our example pericope. Its focus is not family allegiance, but a challenge to the Pharisees and scribes’ attention to ritual by asserting the importance of the commandment to honor one’s parents. If failing to honor one’s parents is to make void the word of God, then what has Jesus done in our pericope? Some Pharisees came to him, and to test him they asked, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife for any cause?” 4He answered, “Have you not read that the one who made them at the beginning ‘made them male and female,’ 5and said, ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh’? 6So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” (Mt. 19:3–6; from Mk. 10:2–9) 19:3

In this pericope, “father and mother” appear in a scripture quotation. The issue being addressed is divorce and has no impact on our interpretation of Matthew 12:46–50. Then someone came to him and said, “Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?” 17And he said to him, “Why do you ask me about what is good? There is only one who is good. If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments.” 18He said to him, “Which ones?” And Jesus said, “You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; 19Honor your father and mother; also, You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” 20 The young man said to him, “I have kept all these; what do 19:16

94 Reading the Synoptic Gospels I still lack?” 21Jesus said to him, “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.” 22When the young man heard this word, he went away grieving, for he had many possessions. 23Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly I tell you, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. 24Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” 25When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astounded and said, “Then who can be saved?” 26But Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible.” 27Then Peter said in reply, “Look, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?” 28Jesus said to them, “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. 29 And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields, for my name’s sake, will receive a hundredfold, and will inherit eternal life. 30But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.” (Mt. 19:16–30; from Mk. 10:17–31; paralleled in Lk. 18:18–30)

Again, Matthew’s focus here is not family ties. Nevertheless, as with 15:1–6, this passage opens with the assumption that one should honor his or her parents. At the close of the passage, however, Jesus promises reward for those who leave family for his name’s sake. Which is it? Are we doing the will of God by honoring our parents or by turning away from family to become disciples? In this single interchange, Matthew highlights this tension, but does not answer the question. Now we shall look up “brother” in our concordance. We must be careful to look up all forms of the word (brother, brothers, brother’s, etc.). In The Analytical Concordance we find two back-to-back entries: one for “brother” and one for “brother and/or sister.” The first translates only one Greek word, listed as “ἀδελφός, adelphos, 81.” Our passage is included in this list, so even though we may not know Greek, we know the word for brother in our text is adelphos. The second (brother and/or

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sister) can be a translation of “ἀδελφός, adelphos, 81” as well but also of “ἀδελφότης, adelphotēs, 82.” Thus we need to use both lists to be able to identify all occurrences of adelphos in Matthew for both entries. We find that adelphos translated as “brother” occurs in 1:2, 11; 4:18 (twice), 21 (twice); 10:2, 21; 12:46, 47, 48, 49, 50; 13:55; 14:3; 17:1; 19:29; 20:24; 22:24 (twice), 25 (twice); and 28:10. In addition to chapter 12, we have already looked at one passage with “brothers” in it (19:29). As with “mother,” this term often refers to actual brothers (1:2, 11; 4:18, 21; 10:2; 13:55; 14:3; 17:1; 20:24). On two occasions in Matthew “brother” refers literally to siblings in general: When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say; for what you are to say will be given to you at that time; 20for it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. 21Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death; 22and you will be hated by all because of my name. (Mt. 10:19–22) 10:19

In this passage Jesus is addressing the persecution of those he sends out to heal and proclaim the good news. It is not the Christian who breaks the familial ties here, but instead it is relatives who will betray their Christian family members. The same day some Sadducees came to him, saying there is no resurrection; and they asked him a question, saying, 24 “Teacher, Moses said, ‘If a man dies childless, his brother shall marry the widow, and raise up children for his brother.’ 25 Now there were seven brothers among us; the first married, and died childless, leaving the widow to his brother. 26The second did the same, so also the third, down to the seventh. 27 Last of all, the woman herself died. 28In the resurrection, then, whose wife of the seven will she be? For all of them had married her.” 29Jesus answered them, “You are wrong, because you know neither the scriptures nor the power of God. 30For in the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven. 31And as for the resurrection of the dead, have you not read what was said to 22:23

96 Reading the Synoptic Gospels you by God, 32‘I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? He is God not of the dead, but of the living.” (Mt. 22:23–32)

This passage is concerned with the resurrection of the dead and at first seems to offer no insight into the issues we are exploring. But in verse 30 Jesus’ interpretation of the resurrection includes the erasure of traditional familial lines. Thus, the redefining of family in Matthew 12:46–50 is a foreshadowing of the eschatological reorientation of creation. The only occurrence of “brother” left in the list to consider is 28:10: Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. 10Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” (Mt. 28:9–10)

28:9

In this passage, the resurrected Jesus instructs the women at the empty tomb to tell his disciples to meet him in Galilee, and he refers to his disciples as his brothers (28:10). This language seems to reflect the use in our passage in a stronger fashion than any other passage we have seen so far—disciples doing the will of God = Jesus’ family. When we consider the list of occurrences of adelphos in the concordance under the “brother and/or sister,” we find the following in Matthew: 5:22 (twice), 23, 24, 47; 18:35. The first three occurrences seem clustered in a single pericope. Let’s consider all three passages that include “brothers and/or sisters” together: “You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ 22But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire. 23So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, 24leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to 5:21

Theological Editing your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. 25 Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison.” (Mt. 5:21–25) “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. 46For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? 47And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?” (Mt. 5:43–47)

5:43

Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” 22Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times. 23For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. 24When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him; 25and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made. 26So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ 27And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. 28But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii; and seizing him by the throat, he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ 29Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ 30But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. 31When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. 32Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. 33Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ 34And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire 18:21

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98 Reading the Synoptic Gospels debt. 35So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” (Mt. 18:21–35)

In these texts, the NRSV footnotes “sister” to indicate that the Greek reads only “brother.” The translators have used “brothers and sisters” to make clear that the “brother(s)” in the text was intended by the author to be inclusive, i.e., to refer metaphorically to the relationship between members of the community of faith. This explains the separate entries in the Analytical Concordance. So not only does performing the will of God put us in a new familial relationship with Jesus but with one another. The fact that there are two entries in the concordance side by side that translate adelphos a little differently should raise a red flag for the interpreter. The translation problem signals the need to investigate further by turning to the Greek-English index at the back of the Analytical Concordance. Number 81 is δελφός, adelphos. The NRSV translates the word many different ways (the list of translations is ordered with the most frequent first). The number of occurrences of each term is included in brackets: brother [136], brother and sister [102], believer [31], friend [17], beloved [12], neighbor [6], another [3], comrade [3], member of the church [3], person [3], untranslated [3], man [2], member of a family [2], one another [2], they [2], another disciple [1], community [1], family [1], fellows Israelite [1], husband [1], kindred [1], kinsfolk [1], member [1], member [1], member of God’s family [1], one [1], other [1], relative [1], student [1], whole community [1], see 467 [friend] [1].

So even though we have examined the two translations used most often, we may not have found all occurrences of adelphos in Matthew. It seems from this list that in the attempt to be more inclusive, the NRSV has made a mess of adelphos. Consistency without woodenness is a quality to be sought in translations. The NRSV does have a footnote with each occurrence indicating that the Greek is “brother,” but this is not helpful when doing word studies. The variety of translations means

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more work for the English exegete, but we need not sort out the whole list. Instead, we need to check through the list and find all the occurrences of adelphos in Matthew. This can take a little while with so many different entries to check, but we find only the following additional translations for adelphos: member(s), 18:15 members of my family, 25:40 member of the church, 18:15, 21 neighbor(’s), 7:3, 4, 5 student, 23:8 A quick scan of the first four of these entries shows that in the passages listed Matthew is talking about members of the Christian community (as seen above in the quoted passage from Matthew 18), in the same manner of “brothers and/or sisters” above. But what of the last entry of “students”? The passage in which the word occurs reads: Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples, 2“The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; 3therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach. 4They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them. 5They do all their deeds to be seen by others; for they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long. 6 They love to have the place of honor at banquets and the best seats in the synagogues, 7and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have people call them rabbi. 8But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students. 9And call no one your father on earth, for you have one Father—the one in heaven. 10Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Messiah. 11 The greatest among you will be your servant. 12All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.” (Mt. 23:1–11) 23:1

In this context, the translators have chosen to understand adelphos as standing over against “rabbi” and “teacher.” Given the

100 Reading the Synoptic Gospels use of father in two ways in the following verse, it would have been better to translate the term as “brothers and sisters,” emphasizing the relationship among the followers of Jesus. Thus this use of adelphos fits with the familial metaphors for the church we have already seen. Our survey of family language in Matthew has broadened our understanding of the gospel writer’s emphasis on the community of faith in our example pericope. Matthew presents Jesus as repeatedly asserting that affiliation with the Christian faith will result in alienation from one’s family. At times the alienation will be the result of the Christian’s decision to leave family to follow Christ. At other times, the alienation will take the form of ostracism or even persecution at the hands of one’s own family. Redaction criticism does not erase the tension we found in our form critical step between understanding this passage as a challenge to separate from family as part of connecting with Jesus’ family, or hearing Jesus’ pronouncement as a word of comfort for those who felt their families turn away from them or, worse, turn against them because of their new faith. Instead, the attention we have given to Matthew’s editorial patterns concerning familial language has increased the tension. It has emphasized that one cannot be part of two families at one time. The church requires such allegiance and such a new way of life that the old social connections will become both inadequate and threatening. Indeed, so close will the new social connections be that Matthew’s community uses “brothers and sisters” for its members. Still, we must be careful not to overstate Matthew’s presentation concerning the breaking of family ties. He is not completely consistent. This break with the old is not complete. Matthew does still value the command to honor one’s parents. Thus, the tension is threefold: (1) Matthew 12:46–50 can be read as a call to leave family to join with a new family; (2) it can be read as a word of comfort to those who have regrettably lost family to be a part of the new faith; (3) it must be read side by side with

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Matthew’s assumption that people should honor their parents. Disciples: We should not be surprised to find that “disciples” occurs frequently in the Gospel of Matthew—over sixty times. As a group, the disciples represent a major character (on characters, see Excursus 3) in the narrative. From our socio-historical examination of “disciples” we learned that the term can be used to refer to the inner circle of the twelve apostles or to a broader group of followers of Jesus. Indeed, if we use our concordance to check all the occurrences in Matthew, we find that Matthew explicitly refers to “the twelve disciples” three times. Two of the references (10:1; 20:17) represent editorial expansion of Mark’s “the Twelve” (6:7; 10:32). The other is an editorial summary unparalleled in the other Synoptics (11:1). Thus, we might be concerned that when Jesus is “pointing to his disciples” in 12:49, Matthew wants us to imagine that he is pointing specifically to the Twelve. In other places the gospel writer uses “disciple” in a much broader fashion. In fact, in 27:57 Matthew even calls Joseph of Arimathea, who was not one of the Twelve, a “disciple of Jesus.” So in our example pericope, Matthew is referring to the wider community of disciples. Father: Matthew’s frequent use of “Father” as a metaphor for God demonstrates that it is his favorite such title (5:16, 45, 48; 6:1, 4, 6, 8, 9, 14, 15, 18, 26, 32; 7:11, 21; 10:20, 29, 32, 33; 11:25, 26, 27, 50; 13:43; 15:13; 16:17, 27; 18:10, 14, 19, 35; 20:23; 23:9; 24:36; 25:34; 26:39, 42, 53; 28:19). Every occurrence appears when Jesus is speaking. As we saw in our investigation of familial terms above, God is sometimes referred to as “Father” in relation to the community of faith being called “brothers and sisters.” Therefore, Matthew’s decision to change “God” (Mk. 3:35) to “my Father in heaven” in our example pericope (Mt. 12:50) is part of a widespread editorial pattern in the Gospel of Matthew. Our example passage offers part of the theological rationale for that pattern: New family lines have been drawn with God as the head of the family, i.e., with God as Father of Christian brothers and sisters.

102 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Will: When we look up “will” in the Analytical Concordance we find that among eleven different Greek words that are translated as “will,” two are found in Matthew. They are listed as:

θέλημα, thelēma, 2525 θέλω, thelō, 2527 Without knowing Greek, we can tell these words are related simply by the fact that they are spelled so similarly. In our passage, the first word, thelēma, appears in 12:50. A quick comparison of the list of occurrences of these words in the NRSV shows that thelēma is the noun form and thelō is the verb. By checking the Greek-English index at the back of the concordance, we see that both words are translated in a number of different ways, depending on context. We must check all these to see which ones appear in Matthew. Our interest, based on 12:50, however, is not how Matthew uses thelēma and thelō generally, but how the author speaks specifically of God’s will. The first thing we notice is that every time Matthew speaks of God’s will, God is called “Father”: [In the Lord’s Prayer in the Sermon on the Mount:] “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” (6:9b–10) [In the Sermon on the Mount:] “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” (7:21) [Following woes uttered over unrepentant cities:] At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. (11:25–26) [Following the parable of the lost sheep:] “So it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.” (18:14) [Following the parable addressed to Jesus’ opponents in which one son says he will not obey his father’s instruction

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but does, and the other says he will but does not:] “Which one of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you…” (21:31) [During Jesus’ prayer before his arrest:] 39And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.” 40Then he came to the disciples and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, “So, could you not stay awake with me one hour?” 41Stay awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Again he went away for the second time and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” (26:39–42)

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Several interesting things should catch our attention in this survey. First, 7:21 claims that doing God’s will is the requirement for admission into the reign of heaven. Thus, in our example pericope, being a part of Jesus’ family is the metaphorical equivalent of admission to the reign of heaven in this passage. Second, 7:21 and 21:31, along with 12:50 from our passage, emphasize that doing God’s will requires action, and not just speech. Third, Jesus models this action when he prays that his Father’s will be done, knowing that it means death for himself (26:42). We should be careful before claiming that this was God’s will for Jesus alone. Is this not also what it means to be a disciple? Then Jesus told his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” (16:24–25)

We have explored the editorial patterns in Matthew that relate to 12:46–50 by looking for the recurrence of vocabulary throughout the gospel. Now we are prepared to look for editorial patterns we have missed by skimming through the gospel and

104 Reading the Synoptic Gospels looking for themes and language in pericopes that relate to our example text. We cannot, of course, recreate the experience of reading the entire gospel within the scope of this essay, but we are able to highlight some items we discover in such a reading. The reader is first introduced to disciples of Jesus in Matthew 4:18–22. When Jesus calls Peter, Andrew, James, and John to follow him, they immediately leave their fishing and follow him. To become disciples of Jesus, James and John depart immediately, leaving their father sitting in the boat. This sort of response to Jesus’ call, this sort of breaking of familial ties (and no longer contributing to the family livelihood) to become part of Jesus’ community epitomizes obedience to the will of the Father. (See also 9:9.) In 5:1, Jesus separates from the crowds, goes up the mountain to address his disciples, and delivers the Sermon on the Mount (Mt. 5:1—7:29). This ethical discourse can be assumed to play a role in defining how disciples do the will of the Father. Some passages refer to people who are hindered from joining Jesus’ circle of disciples (i.e., his family) because of the difficult nature of Jesus’ words (8:18–22; 19:16–26). A disciple wishes to bury his father before setting out with Jesus across the sea (8:21–22). Jesus rejects the idea (“Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.”) While more is going on than just this, we again see a break with familial ties required to follow Jesus. Likewise, in Jesus’ response to the accusation that he casts out demonic spirits by the power of Beelzebul (which immediately precedes our example pericope), he says, “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters” (12:30). Jesus’ drawing lines between those with him and those against him seems to be an important motif for Matthew. In 10:1–42, Jesus selects his inner circle of twelve disciples and gives them authority and instructions to do exactly what we witness Jesus doing throughout the gospel: cast out demons, heal the sick, and preach the good news of the reign of heaven. This sending forth of the disciples includes a warning that persecution will accompany their

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mission. Family member will be set against family member (10:34–39, a passage we have already examined). Being a disciple and doing God’s will may result in the loss of life (cf. 26:31–35, in which Peter and the disciples claim they are willing to die for Jesus, but later Peter, to protect himself, denies he even knows Jesus [26:69–75]). When Jesus returns to Nazareth and teaches in the synagogue, the people take offense at him because they know him as the son of Mary and of the carpenter. They know his brothers and sisters (13:54–58). To identify Jesus with the wrong family is to misunderstand who he is and to place a barrier in the way of relating to him. In chapter 18, the disciples ask Jesus who is the greatest in the reign of heaven. (As we have seen, entering God’s reign is a rough theological/metaphorical equivalent to being Jesus’ family.) In his lengthy response, Jesus speaks of the church. Is Matthew setting up an equation in which being a disciple = doing God’s will = inclusion in Jesus’ family = inclusion in God’s reign = inclusion in Matthew’s church? After Jesus’ resurrection, he instructs his eleven remaining disciples to “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them…and teaching them” (28:16–20), which are activities of the church.

The items that caught our attention during our quick reading through Matthew have not greatly changed our understanding of the theological orientation of 12:46–50. They have helped advance the theological trajectory we have been exploring. Our understanding of what it means to do God’s will has deepened—obedience to Jesus over loyalty to family, following ethical standards, being willing to die for Jesus’ sake. Our recognition of who Jesus’ disciples are has expanded: they are neither just the Twelve nor the larger crowds following Jesus but also the post-resurrection church. From a redaction critical perspective, this observation is the link between Matthew’s community and the Jesus movement. The gospel writer has edited his material in such a way that the story of the Christ event issues a call and/or offers comfort to the church in his day (approximately 80 c.e.). The gospel writer did

106 Reading the Synoptic Gospels not intend to write an account of the past, but a narrative that has a theological impact on readers struggling to be Christian disciples as part of the church, to do God’s will, to enter the reign of God, to be a part of Christ’s family. Understanding that Matthew presents discipleship as a willingness to break the strongest of familial ties, to do only the will of the Father in heaven, and to lose life in accordance with that will sounds even more radical in a culture in which Christianity has assimilated culture and vice versa. It is no small thing to claim to be part of Jesus’ family. Redaction criticism is an extremely profitable step in the exegetical process. Although it is a simple methodology in theory, we have seen that it is actually quite detailed in practice, yet well worth the effort. By analyzing the gospel writer’s intent in making editorial changes to his source and in shaping the pericope according to editorial patterns found throughout his gospel, we learn much about the theological depth of a pericope. The tension between reading our example pericope as a demanding call or as a comforting utterance is extended from the period of the early kerygma to the gospel writer’s intention. Themes and language in Matthew 12:46–50 are found throughout the Gospel of Matthew. By performing redaction criticism on our passage, we have taken important steps in understanding Matthew better as a whole. We are now prepared to move to the next interpretive step. For Further Reading Donohue, J. R. “Redaction Criticism, New Testament.” In Dictionary of Biblical Interpretation, edited by John H. Hayes, 2.376–79. Nashville: Abingdon, 1999. Hayes, John H., and Carl R. Holladay, “Redaction Criticism: The Final Viewpoint and Theology.” In Biblical Exegesis: A Beginner’s Handbook, 3rd ed., 127–38. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2007. McKnight, Edgar V. “Form and Redaction Criticism.” In The New Testament and Its Modern Interpreters, edited by E. J. Epp and G. W. MacRae, 149–74. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989.

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Sanders, E. P., and Margaret Davies. “Redaction Criticism.” In Studying the Synoptic Gospels, 201–23. London/Philadelphia: SCM/Trinity, 1989. Stein, Robert H. “Redaction Criticism (NT).” In The Anchor Bible Dictionary, edited by David Noel Freedman, 5.647–50. New York: Doubleday, 1992. Streete, Gail P. C. “Redaction Criticism.” In To Each Its Own Meaning: An Introduction to Biblical Criticisms and Their Application, revised ed., edited by Steven L. McKenzie and Stephen R. Haynes, 105–22. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1999.

Chapter 6 Narrative Reading After establishing our pericope, we explored the socio-historical and literary background of the text. In form criticism, we analyzed the oral, kerygmatic function of the pericope that lies behind the writing down of the passage. Likewise, in redaction criticism, we studied the theological intent of the gospel writer that lies behind the editorial work on the final form of the gospel. Redaction criticism greatly advanced the interpretation of our example pericope as it moved us to consider the passage in the context of the final form of the narrative. Now we are ready to shift our attention from layers of meaning of a pericope found behind the text to layers found completely within the scene itself. Here, we turn to use literary criticism on our pericope. As with redaction criticism, in this step we are focusing on the final form of the text. We are no longer concerned with trying to discover the author’s intent, however, but with listening to the narrator’s story—no longer concerned with the history or sources that shaped the gospel text but with the Gospel as a piece of literature. By appreciating the Bible as literature, we celebrate the power of its poetry, epics, metaphors, proverbs, short stories, symbolism, rhetoric, and so forth. It is important to recognize that literary art is not just the vehicle carrying the message—the vehicle is the message. Reducing poetry or story to declarative propositions loses the power that a parable has to create an alternative world, or the power a psalm has to evoke intense joy or extreme angst. The power of the message = content 108

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+ literary art. In this step, we will explore the narrative shape of meaning inherent in gospel passages. Literary Aspects of the Gospels As we prepare to examine the literary aspects of an individual passage, it is important to be aware of some of the literary aspects of the broader narrative in which the scene is embedded. The first aspect to consider is that of genre. What type of literature is a gospel? We have seen that the Gospels are historical but are not history. They focus on Jesus but are more than biographies. They proclaim the good news of the Christ event, but they are certainly not sermons. The early church shaped some of the scenes out of its own experiences and told them as if they occurred in Jesus’ lifetime, but the Gospels are not fictional novels. The Gospels are theological, but they are not theological treatises. Again, we turn to Luke’s prologue for insight: Since many have undertaken to set down an orderly account of the events that have been fulfilled among us, 2just as they were handed on to us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word, 3I too decided, after investigating everything carefully from the very first, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, 4so that you may know the truth concerning the things about which you have been instructed. (Lk. 1:1–4) 1

Luke’s claim to be writing an “orderly account” offers us the most basic genre information. The Gospels are narratives—narrative accounts with historical, biographical, homiletical, fictive, and theological qualities. Narratives by definition must have a narrator to tell the story. How narrators tell their stories is dependent on their point of view. The narrator may tell the story from inside the story (as a character or participant) or from the outside (as an observer). The Synoptic Gospels are narrated from the outside, which dictates that they are third-person narratives. In other words, the gospel narrators refer to characters in the story as he, she, or they.

110 Reading the Synoptic Gospels What is not dictated by narrating the story from the outside is how much the narrator knows about the story world and the characters. In third-person narratives, the narrator may have a limited point of view, which means that the story is told through the limitations of what a single character experiences or thinks, or an omniscient point of view, which means that the narrator knows everything about the story world. The gospel narrators have chosen an omniscient point of view. They move around in time and place at will, shift from character to character, and know the thoughts, feelings, and actions of all the characters. Of course, they reveal only the information about the characters and the action that they wish the readers to know. Characterization in narratives can happen in two main ways. The narrator can tell about the characters, describing and evaluating them for the reader (e.g., “he was a mean man”). Or the narrator can show what the characters are like, allowing the reader to evaluate them based on their words and actions (e.g., “the man kicked his dog”). In the Gospels, the narrators rarely tell us about the characters. Jesus is the main character, and yet we are told very little about him. What did he look like? How did his voice sound? What did he feel or think? What was his motivation behind a particular action? In place of answering these sorts of questions, the narrator shows Jesus teaching, healing, and forgiving. As the main character, Jesus is the focus of most of the action, speaks more than any other character in the narrative, and is therefore a fairly round character (one who is complex in a true-to-life fashion). But most of the characters in the gospels are flat (characters presented with little detail who represent a type of person more than a unique, knowable individual). Most are not named and never speak. With only a few exceptions, the various people seeking healing are interchangeable except for their illnesses. Most of the disciples are never described as acting individually. All of Jesus’ opponents look almost exactly alike. The contrast of the stock characters with Jesus brings him into clear focus as the primary person driving the action of the story.

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Luke’s description of writing an “orderly” narrative implies that the action of the Gospels has been structured into plots. In spite of the fact that the Synoptics were composed in a cut-andpaste fashion, they do not represent a hodgepodge collection of scenes (as redaction criticism has already shown). A narrative reading assumes that the Synoptic Gospels, even though episodic in nature, are unified narratives with a single plotline extending throughout the entire work. This does not erase the possibility of asides or even tangents. The assumption does indicate that a narrative logic, direction, and purpose serves as the controlling principle for the work. As with all narratives, Matthew, Mark, and Luke each have a beginning, middle, and end. In other words, rising action containing conflict leads to some form of climax that is brought to a close with some form of dénouement (i.e., resolution). Speaking in general about all three of the Synoptic Gospels, the rising action involves conflict between Jesus and the “powers that be.” These powers include both demonic (e.g., Satan and unclean spirits) and human (e.g., Pharisees, scribes, Herodians, Sadducees, Pilate, and Herod) opponents of Jesus. Jesus’ actions, in concert with his proclamation concerning the reign of God, challenge the claims of demonic and human power structures. The conflict comes to its climax, of course, in Jesus’ passion (the arrest, mocking, trials, crucifixion, death, and burial). At this point, it looks as if the “powers that be” have won the day. Then the empty tomb/ resurrection follows as the true resolution of the conflict by revealing the impotence of the “powers that be.” Nevertheless, in each of the Synoptics, this resolution is open-ended in that the endings point toward action that follows the close of the gospel. Mark ends with the unfulfilled promise that Jesus will meet the disciples in Galilee (16:1–8). In Matthew, Jesus does appear to the disciples in Galilee, but he gives them instructions for continuing the mission that he has begun, a continuation not described in the narrative (Mt. 28:16–20). Luke goes so far as to write a second volume (Acts) that tells the story of the beginnings of the church after the resurrection.

112 Reading the Synoptic Gospels The Literary Aspects of Gospel Scenes Other literary aspects of the Synoptic Gospels as complete narratives are beyond the scope of our present discussion. (See Excursus 3 for a glossary of literary terms.) Those discussed thus far provide us with a good appreciation of the literary art found in the broader narratives and set the stage for examining the literary aspects of short, individual scenes. As we began our discussion of the literary aspects of the gospels as a whole with the question of genre, so also when we begin our literary criticism of a gospel passage we should examine the basic literary nature of the passage. Is it a monologue, dialogue, narration of action, or a mix of these? Speech conveys meaning in a very different manner than does action. In this scene, does the narrator offer us the opportunity to listen to Jesus or to watch him? If the passage is a mix of types of material (as most passages will be), how do the different types relate to one another? Does the narrator offer the speech material as an interpretation of the action, or does action serve as an introduction to the speech? Next we ask what kind of language the narrator uses to tell the story or report the speech. Is it a terse description that is straightforward and to be understood literally or, more likely, is figurative language utilized? At this point we want to read through the passage slowly and note the use of similes, metaphors, symbols, allegory, imagery, personification, hyperbole, understatement, irony, sarcasm, satire, humor, puns, euphemisms, repetition, parallelism, paradox, and invectives. A word of warning is necessary at this point: Some figurative language is lost in the translation from the ancient Greek language and Mediterranean culture to modern English language and American culture. We must rely on commentators to point these out to us. Still, much figurative language is accessible to the English reader, and attention to this language offers the interpreter great possibilities for discovering aspects of meaning not yet uncovered. Figurative language is not simply decorative rhetoric; it is the power of language to imply, to evoke thoughts, and to provoke

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emotions. We want to analyze each individual figure of speech so that our analysis will inform our literary reading of the passage as a whole. In the same fashion, we need to examine each character individually. We already have precursory knowledge of patterns of characterization throughout the gospels, but questions remain to be asked concerning characterization within each individual scene. Which are main characters, and which are minor? How is each one characterized (by showing or telling)? Who speaks directly or indirectly, and who is silent? Are they flat or round characters? How do the characters interact? Which ones are to be viewed positively, negatively, or ambiguously? If the characters appear in other scenes in the gospel, does their characterization in this scene confirm, contradict, or supplement the characterization seen elsewhere? The setting of a scene is not just background. By analyzing when and where action takes place, we may discover something important about the action or the characters. A healing in the synagogue where scripture is being studied on the Sabbath will have a different sort of significance than one performed on the lakeshore any other day of the week. Therefore, at this point we want to identify the setting (which may require us to look in the passage[s] preceding the one under investigation) and then ask how this identification helps us understand the plot. Like the gospels as a whole, each individual passage (if it is not purely speech material) also has a plot. Similar to outlining the passage in form criticism, focusing on the plot involves asking questions concerning a passage’s structure. Narrative study, however, looks at the logical progression or narrative flow in terms of basic plot structure instead of conventional story types. In form criticism, we might have noticed that two forms were intermingled (such as a miracle story and a pronouncement story). Now we speak of subplots. Can the scene be understood in terms of rising action, climax, and resolution? What is the conflict, and how is it resolved (if it is resolved)? Is the ending a closed or open resolution?

114 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Finally, we must ask how the scene relates to its narrative context. In narrative interpretation, we are no longer looking at our passage as an isolated pericope (as in form criticism), nor are we simply looking for theological connections with the broader narrative context (as in redaction criticism). Assuming the gospel is a unified (albeit episodic) narrative leads us to assume that any particular episode plays an integral part in the overall narrative structure and purpose of the work. By examining our scene within its context, we are seeking information that has two sides. On one side is the question of how the context helps us understand our individual scene. On the reverse side is the question of how our individual scene helps us better understand its narrative context. When we speak of narrative context this way, we must answer three types of questions: 1. How is our scene connected to its immediate context? Does it flow smoothly out of or into the scenes around it, or does it represent a shift in narrative logic and theme? Does it share vocabulary, topics, characters, or setting with the scenes near it? In other words, should we interpret our scene as being in conjunction with the scenes preceding or following it (or both), or should we read it over against those scenes? 2. In a broader context, what is the significance of the scene within the larger subsection of the narrative in which it is embedded? It is helpful to have some knowledge of the Gospel’s structure at this point. Commentators should be of help, especially if we take time to read the introductory overview to the Gospel at the beginning of the commentary. Then we shall be able to recognize if the scene appears as part of Luke’s “Travel Narrative,” as a movement in Matthew’s “Eschatological Discourse,” or in Mark’s “Galilean Ministry” prior to Peter’s confession at Caesarea Philippi. Understanding the broad purpose(s) of the section will help guide our understanding of the

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purpose of the scene and vice versa. 3. What function does the scene serve in the narrative context of the gospel’s plot as a whole? Is the scene narrated as part of the rising action, the climax, or the resolution? Does it serve to intensify or more clearly delineate the conflict? Is it an aside that seems to have little to do with the overall plotline? This step may require another quick reading of the gospel as a whole. One can also turn to the introduction to the gospel in a commentary to help define overarching contexts. Most commentary introductions include an outline of the biblical book as a whole. Giving attention to the literary aspects of a gospel passage sensitizes the interpreter to layers of meaning not accessible through the methods we have studied thus far. By examining the passage as a finished work, apart from its developmental history, we discover the scene’s artistry and, therefore, its power and beauty. Example: Matthew 12:46–50

Basic Literary Nature Our example scene contains very little action. It is primarily a dialogue to which we are invited to listen (or overhear). The small amount of narration, as well as the brief comment by the unnamed person (“Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you”), serves to set up Jesus’ question (“Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?”). This question is a rhetorical device, a trick question. Asked as a response to the information that Jesus’ family is present, the question implies that the obvious answer is not the correct one. Jesus continues his response by answering the question himself, which, as we have seen before, is the punch line of the dialogue. Indeed, the fact that Jesus answers his own question in this manner shows that while the scene is technically a dialogue between Jesus and the person who announces his family, it almost functions more like a monologue.

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Figurative Language Jesus’ trick question concerning his family indicates that language is being used in a figurative manner in this scene—that it is being twisted from its conventional use into a new, provocative use. The familial terms in the passage are the focus of this twisting. In verses 46–47 we read, While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him. Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.”

Introducing Jesus’ family, the narrator clearly uses “mother” and “brothers” literally. The same is true when the person informs Jesus of their presence. Jesus’ response, however, uses all the familial language figuratively: But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” (12:48–50)

The familial terms in this speech are used in a metaphorical fashion. In a metaphor (e.g., the king is a lion) the focus is not on the metaphorical term (lion) but on the metaphorical subject (king). The term serves the subject by illustrating something of the subject’s nature that would not have been obvious otherwise. A metaphor takes something that is not known or not fully known (the character of the king) and compares it with something that is better known (the character of a lion). A new characteristic of, or new insight into, the focus of the comparison is given (the king is courageous [or ferocious]). Therefore, when Jesus speaks of mother, brother, and Father, he is not speaking literally of Mary, James, and Joseph. The metaphorical expressions are, “My disciples who do the will of God are my mother and brothers,” and, “God is my Father.” By changing the use of language from literal to figurative, Matthew shifts the entire focus of the dialogue. In the first half of the scene, the focus is on Jesus’ family. In the

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second half, the focus is on the way Jesus’ disciples are related to him through their obedience to the will of the One to whom he is most intimately related. In other words, familial language has shifted from the primary reference to a metaphor referring to something altogether different. Our redaction critical study showed “Father” to be Matthew’s favorite metaphor for God. By this point in the gospel narrative, that metaphor has been used numerous times and is not the focus of the figurative language in the scene. That which is new is the focus: broadening the definition of disciples. When they do the will of God, disciples become more intimately related to Jesus than are his own blood relatives.

Characterization In order of appearance, the characters in this scene may be characterized as follows: The crowds are present throughout the scene, but take no action beyond listening to Jesus. The narrator does not even describe their reaction to the dialogue. They serve as part of the setting, making it clear that this is a public dialogue. Jesus’ mother and brothers never actually appear in the scene. They are standing offstage the entire time. While they do not perform any action or say anything, we are told of their desire to speak with Jesus. Their presence offstage is the impetus for the entire scene. The person who speaks to Jesus is simply referred to as “someone.” This character is completely anonymous. We are not told whether the person is part of the crowd or a disciple. Since the narrator tells us nothing about the character, we must assume that the person’s only significance is to inform Jesus of his family’s presence and to give Jesus someone to whom to speak/respond to. Jesus is, of course, the main character of the scene. All other characters are described in terms of their relation to Jesus (except for the anonymous character who speaks to him). The narrator not only reports Jesus’ speech directly, but also accords Jesus the longest and final part of the dia-

118 Reading the Synoptic Gospels logue. Jesus gets the last word and is the one who speaks authoritatively. Although Jesus is the main character, his disciples are, in the end, the main focus of the scene. Jesus physically points them out as he defines them as family. Disciples are the ones who do the will of God. It is striking that they are defined in terms of their action, yet they do not act within the scene. God is not an actor in the scene, of course, but is a character to whom Jesus refers in no insignificant manner. The metaphor used to refer to God (Father) is one that signifies an intimate relationship between God and Jesus and, by virtue of being a masculine metaphor in an ancient, patriarchal society, signifies authority. Thus, it is no surprise that this God is referred to as one who exerts a will to be obeyed. Indeed, the disciples are related to Jesus, the main character, only through their relationship to God the Father (by obediently doing God’s will). As the scene is opened by the presence of Jesus’ blood relatives offstage, so also is it closed by Jesus’ invoking the presence of his heavenly (i.e., offstage) parent.

The characters in this scene, with the exception of Jesus (and perhaps God), are flat characters. They are stock, stereotypical characters. That does not mean that characterization is unimportant. The narrator characterizes all of those in the story only through showing instead of telling. Nevertheless, Jesus (one character in the story) characterizes the disciples (other characters in the scene) through telling. The fact, however, that Jesus does not point to them while they are doing God’s will indicates that his statement has more to do with defining discipleship, generally speaking, than describing the particular disciples sitting around him at that very moment. Thus, characterization serves a broader descriptive purpose in this pericope.

Setting The narrator opens our example scene with the words, “While he was still speaking to the crowds” (12:46). The setting of the scene is, therefore, closely related to that which precedes

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it. As we have seen earlier, in 12:22–37, Jesus heals a demoniac, is accused of exorcising by Beelzebul, and rebuts the accusation. In the same setting, “some of the scribes and Pharisees” (the same ones who had accused him of collusion with Satan) ask Jesus for a sign, which provokes a rebuke from Jesus (vv. 38–45). In our redaction critical step we observed that Matthew removed Mark’s description of Jesus’ family’s seeking him out in response to claims that he was beside himself, and thus offered no motive (positive or negative) for their wishing to speak with Jesus. The setting shared with the previous scenes, however, does give the scene a feel of conflict from the outset.

Plot During our form critical step we analyzed the structure of this passage in detail. Still, work in examining the plot remains to be done. Although our scene is primarily a dialogue, it can still be divided into rising action, climax, and resolution. The rising action (or beginning) comprises verses 46–47. In this section, Jesus’ family is brought into clear focus. Their presence is mentioned by the narrator and then restated by “someone.” This double introduction indicates their importance for the scene. The middle of the story is Jesus’ question. It follows from what has gone before but requires something (an answer) to follow it. In longer narratives, the conflict is developed over many pages and through several chapters, but in a short scene such as this it arrives quickly and can reach a crisis at the moment it arrives. Such is the case here. Whereas in the scenes before, the conflict arose from a statement and request by Jesus’ opponents, here the conflict comes from Jesus’ own question. His question twists the conventional understanding of family in such a way that the new definition calls for resolution. The resolution does indeed answer Jesus’ question, but it does not draw the scene to a comfortable close. Jesus’ blood relatives are left standing outside, presumably not being privy to the conversation inside. The narrator never finds reason to return to them in this scene. Did Jesus go speak with them (implying that he simply used their presence as an

120 Reading the Synoptic Gospels opportunity to teach about discipleship)? or did he not (implying that he truly redefined familial ties in such a radical fashion as to reject his nuclear family)? The internal details of the scene are not all tied up nice and neat, forcing the reader to make some interpretive choices. (See chapter 7.)

Context We have already examined the immediate context of our example scene, but have yet to look at its broader contexts. A commentary on Matthew will help us here. Commentators will disagree about the best outline of a biblical work. We need not concern ourselves with such differences. We simply need to get a helpful picture of how our passage fits into the whole. For example, in his introduction to Matthew, M. Eugene Boring (in “Matthew,” in The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol. 8, edited by Leander E. Keck [Nashville: Abingdon, 1995], p. 122) offers a detailed outline of the Gospel of Matthew. The section with which we are concerned is described in the following manner: II. Matthew 12:22—28:20, The Conflict of Kingdoms Developed and Resolved 12:22–50, Conflict, Decision, and Gathering the True Community 12:22–37, The Conflict of Kingdoms and the Necessity of Decision 12:38–45, The Decisive Issue: The Resurrection of Jesus 12:46–50, The New Community of Disciples Just these labels of this section show we are at the beginning of a section in which the rising action and conflict lead to a resolution many chapters away. We still want to delay reading a commentary’s interpretation of our passage, but by turning to the page where the commentary on this section begins we find a little more detail describing the context of our passage. Boring’s overview of 12:22—28:20 reads: In Part One of his story, Matthew narrates the incursion of the kingdom of God into the world in the person of Jesus Christ, who redefines the meaning of kingship as suffering

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love and who provokes the opposition of the kingdom of Satan, represented by “this generation” and its leaderships, the scribes and the Pharisees, who finally resolve to kill Jesus. In Part Two, which begins at this point, the conflict develops, the disciples of Jesus become a separate community, and the opposition succeeds in killing Jesus. But this represents not the triumph of Satan’s kingdom, but its defeat. (p. 283)

When we combine these comments with the results of our own attention to context while skimming through the narrative as a whole, we see that our passage is part of the presentation of Jesus’ ministry of traveling about the region of Galilee to proclaim the good news of the reign of heaven, heal people, cast out demons, gather disciples about him, and teach them. Our passage draws the Galilean ministry to a close by presenting the early stages of the conflict that will shape the second half of the book and bring about the climax during the passion narrative. By reading our scene in the development of the theme of conflict leading to the passion, we come to a better understanding of the nature of that conflict. It is not always defined in terms of Jesus’ opponents’ attacking him. At times, Jesus himself provokes the sense of conflict in the events of his ministry. Thus our scene advances the plot of the Gospel of Matthew by narrowing the community around Jesus—that is, by narrowing the definition of those in the reign of heaven. A natural relationship with Jesus does not ensure admittance. According to Matthew, it is not whom you know, but whom you serve, that matters. This theology is central to understanding the conflict in Matthew. For example, it is significant to note that in the parable discourse that follows on the heels of our scene—the parable of the sower—describes how few respond faithfully to the word of God’s reign (13:1–9, 18–23). Our example scene also plays an important role in the ongoing and developing characterization of Jesus’ disciples. The Galilean section opens with the obedient response of Peter, Andrew, James, and John to Jesus’ call to discipleship (4:18–22). Jesus instructs them on ethical matters in the Sermon on the

122 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Mount (Mt. 5—7). He defends them in controversies, thus drawing them closer into his circle and setting up his opponents as their opponents (e.g., 9:14–17; 12:1–8; cf. 9:10–13; 16:5–12). He gives them authority and sends them out to do what he has done—preach and heal (9:35—10:42). Surely, the disciples are those who do the will of God and have supposedly replaced Jesus’ family. In the climax, however, when the crisis hits, the disciples desert and deny their master (26:31–35, 56, 69–75). Nevertheless, during the resolution, Jesus recommissions them after the resurrection, this time with the command to “make disciples” of all nations (28:16–20). When we draw together our different literary observations concerning 12:46–50, we can conclude that the focus of the scene rests on the characterization of the disciples. Jesus’ family appears in the rising action only to be used as a metaphorical reference for the disciples in the resolution. The conflicts between Jesus and his opponents throughout Matthew lead us to read this scene as a conflict scene as well. In this scene, however, the conflict is not between Pharisees and Jesus but between Jesus and his family. Initiating the conflict himself, Jesus appears to be defining those related to him in a narrow fashion: Only those doing the will of his metaphorical Father can be considered part of his metaphorical family. Our examination of the literary aspects of Matthew 12:46– 50 has both confirmed our earlier observations and advanced our understanding beyond them. We see that each method we use overlaps with others, builds on the observations of others, and offers something new. The focus on the final form of the narrative as literature in this step prepares us for the emphasis on the role of the reader in the next. For Further Reading Malbon, Elizabeth Struthers. “Narrative Criticism?” In Mark & Method: New Approaches in Biblical Studies, 2nd ed., edited by Janice Capel Anderson and Stephen D. Moore, 29–58. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2008.

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Moore, Stephen D. “Gospel Criticism as Narrative Criticism.” In Literary Criticism and the Gospels: The Theoretical Challenge, 1–68. New Haven/London: Yale University Press, 1989. Pennington, Jonathan T. “Reading the Gospels as Stories: The ‘Whatever Strikes Me’ (WSM) Hermeneutic versus Narrative Analysis.” In Reading the Gospels Wisely: A Narrative and Theological Introduction, 169–82 Grand Rapids: Baker, 2012. Peterson, Norman R. Literary Criticism for New Testament Critics. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978. Powell, Mark Allan. What Is Narrative Criticism? Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990. _____. “Toward a Narrative-Critical Understanding of Matthew” “…of Mark” “…of Luke.” In Gospel Interpretation: Narrative-Critical & Social-Scientific Approaches, edited by Jack Dean Kingsbury, 9–15, 65–70, 125–31. Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 1997. Resseguie, James L. Narrative Criticism of the New Testament: An Introduction. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2005.

Excursus 3 Select Literary Terms for Narrative Exegesis Action: See Plot. Allegory: A narrative in which elements of the story (e.g., characters, action, setting) have a symbolic significance as well as a literal significance within the story. Some of Jesus’ parables are allegorical. For example, the parable of the sower is accompanied by an allegorical interpretation (Mk. 4:1–8, 13–20). (See Symbol.) Apostrophe: Direct address to an absent person or to an abstract or inanimate object. In Luke 13:34, Jesus stands outside the city of Jerusalem and addresses it in the form of a lament: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” Character: Characters are the persons presented in the narrative; they may be individuals (Jesus, Satan) or a group that acts as a single character (the Pharisees). Two basic types of characters appear in literature. Flat characters are two-dimensional, built around a single idea or quality, presented without much individualizing detail. Almost all narratives have some characters who are simply types or functionaries (e.g., characters in need of healing are usually characterized by 124

Excursus: Select Literary Terms for Narrative Exegesis 125 little more than their illness: Mt. 9:2; Lk. 6:6). Round characters are three-dimensional, complex in temperament and motivation, represented with subtle particularity, and are as difficult to describe with any adequacy as a person in real life. These round characters may develop and grow (e.g., from innocence to maturity), and, like most persons, are capable of surprising us. Jesus is the most developed character in the Synoptics. (See also Characterization.) Characterization: The way the narrator helps the reader get to know characters. (See Character.) The narrator does this in two primary ways. Telling is when the narrator or someone speaking in the narrative explicitly describes and/or evaluates characters’ motives and dispositional qualities (e.g., when Jesus denounces the scribes and Pharisees: Mt. 23:1–36). Showing is when the narrator merely presents the characters as talking and acting and leaves the reader to infer what motives and dispositions lie behind what they say and do. So their actions and dialogue reveal who they are and what they are like (e.g., we are rarely told of Jesus’ motives and thoughts when he is performing healings). Denouement: See Plot. Diction: See Style. Euphemism: Metaphorical language substituted for blunt language labeling or describing something disagreeable or offensive. Mark employs a euphemism in describing Jesus’ reference to his own death as baptism (10:38). Figurative Language: Figures of speech used in an imaginative rather than a literal sense; a use of words that stretches or bends the standard use of those words to convey a new meaning or effect. This is a broad category and includes many of the entries in this list; e.g., the most common is perhaps Metaphor. Foreshadowing: Elements of a text that hint at or prefigure developments to occur later in the narrative. The most obvious

126 Reading the Synoptic Gospels examples of foreshadowing in the Synoptics are Jesus’ statements about his impending death and resurrection (e.g., Mt. 16:21–23). A subtler example would be the way the heavenly voice’s declaration of Jesus as the son of God at his baptism and the transfiguration (Mk. 1:11; 9:7) sets up the centurion as the sole human character in Mark’s narrative to recognize and profess Jesus as God’s son just after he dies (15:39). Hyperbole: Bold overstatement or extravagant exaggeration. An example of such exaggeration is found in Mark 1:5, where the narrator claims that “people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem” (italics added) went out to John the Baptist and were baptized by him. Idiom: A word or phrase characteristic of or peculiar to a particular language. The meaning of an idiom is usually not readily apparent to non-native speakers of that language. English readers of the gospels are dependent on commentaries to identify and interpret Greek idioms. One example is the reference to pigs in the story of the exorcism of the Gerasene demoniac (Luke 8:32–33). Modern readers could easily miss what would be absolutely clear to ancient Jewish readers: for pigs to be present, this area has to be Gentile territory. Irony: A tone that involves a distinction between the explicit meaning of statements and events recognized by characters in the narrative and the implicit meaning recognized by the reader. The reader is aware of things of which the characters are ignorant. For example, Mark’s passion narrative is full of irony. Two examples: (1) Peter denies Jesus for the third time with the words, “I do not know this man you are talking about” (14:71). Peter assumes he is lying, but the reader recognizes that his words speak truth—he really does not know who Jesus is or he would not have abandoned and denied him. (2) The soldiers clothe Jesus in a purple robe, place a crown of thorns on his head, salute him as “king of the Jews,” and kneel down in feigned homage to him before leading him off to be crucified (15:17–20). The soldiers are mocking Jesus, but having heard

Excursus: Select Literary Terms for Narrative Exegesis 127 Jesus’ proclamation of the reign of God and his passion predictions, the reader recognizes the kingship of Jesus and the cross as his throne. Metaphor: A comparison of two distinctively different things made without explicitly asserting the comparison. The use of a metaphor expands or alters the understanding of the primary referent. In Luke 13:32, Jesus uses a metaphor when he refers to Herod as a “fox.” Parallelism: In Hebrew poetry, it is common to repeat an idea with similar, yet varied, language, in parallel lines. Such parallelism can appear in scripture quotations included in the Synoptics Gospels (e.g., in Mt. 21:5, quoting Zech. 9:9). Personification: A metaphorical attribution of human qualities to animals, inanimate objects, or abstract concepts. In Luke 13:34, Jesus addresses the city of Jerusalem as if it were an agent who could hear and act: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” Plot: The narrative’s structure of actions (both verbal and physical) as these are rendered and ordered toward achieving particular emotional and artistic effects. These actions are, of course, performed by characters and exhibit their moral qualities and dispositions. Thus, plot and character are interdependent critical concepts. (See Character.) Plot is different from story. The story is simply a summary of the temporal order of events described in the narrative: first this happens, then that, then that. We are discussing plot only when we say how this is related to that, and in what way all these matters are rendered and organized so as to achieve their particular effects. A plot has unity of action if it is perceived by the reader as a complete and ordered structure of actions, directed toward the intended effect, in which none of the component parts are unnecessary. Criticism of the Gospels that attempted to get “be-

128 Reading the Synoptic Gospels hind the text” broke the narrative into pieces. Narrative criticism assumes that even though the Synoptics seem episodic, they do present a unity of action. The order of a unified plot is a continuous sequence of beginning, middle, and end. As a plot progresses, it arouses expectations in the reader about the future course of events and how characters will respond to events. The beginning initiates the main action in a way that makes the readers look forward to something more; the middle presumes what has gone before and requires something to follow; and the end follows from what has gone before but requires nothing more—the reader is satisfied that the plot is complete. The action of these parts follows three basic moves. First is the rising action or complication, which is usually characterized by some type of conflict. Second, the rising action reaches a climax. Third, the climax gives way to the falling action in which the complication is resolved for better or worse. This closing is often called the denouement (French for “unknotting”) or resolution: The action or intrigue ends in success or failure for the protagonist, the mystery is solved, or the misunderstanding is cleared away. Point of View: The way the story gets told, i.e., the perspective from which the narrator presents the characters, actions, settings, and events that constitute the narrative. Two basic broad categories of narratives result when viewed from the angle of point of view. Stories can be first-person or third-person narratives. The narrator can either be a character participating in the story (using the pronoun “I”) or an observer outside the story (using the pronouns “he,” “she,” “it,” “they”). The Gospels are all told as third-person narratives. (An example of first-person narrative materials are the “we narratives” of Acts [written by “Luke”] beginning in Acts 16:11.) Third-person narratives may be categorized into two subcategories of point of view. In limited point of view the narrator tells the story in third person, but within the confines of what is experienced, thought, and felt by a single character or a few

Excursus: Select Literary Terms for Narrative Exegesis 129 characters within the story. In omniscient point of view the narrator knows everything that needs to be known about the characters and events and is free to move at will in time and place, to shift from character to character, and to report or conceal their speech, actions, thoughts, feelings, and motives. The narrators of the Gospels are all omniscient. Rhetorical Question: A question asked that is not meant to evoke a reply. The speaker assumes the answer to be obvious and shared by both speaker and hearers. An example of a rhetorical question on the lips of Jesus is found in Matthew 9:5. He has declared the sins of a paralytic forgiven. When his authority to forgive is challenged, Jesus asks, “Which is easier to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and walk’?” Everyone knows the answer is the former, and when Jesus is successful to command the man to walk, it proves his authority to forgive. Setting: The locale, time, and social circumstances in which the action of a narrative or section of a narrative occurs. Changes in and details of setting are named by the narrators throughout the Synoptic Gospels. Simile: A comparison of two distinctively different things made explicit by like or as. Although most scholars speak of parables as narrative metaphors, they often begin with the phrase, “The kingdom of God is like…” Thus, they have at times been referred to as similitudes. In Luke 7:32, Jesus uses a simile to describe the generation that has misunderstood him; they are “like children sitting in the marketplace and calling to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not weep.’” Story: See Plot. Style: The manner of linguistic expression; how a work says whatever it is that it says. The style of a particular work may be analyzed in terms of diction (choice of words), sentence struc-

130 Reading the Synoptic Gospels ture and syntax, density and types of Figurative Language, patterns of rhythm, component sounds, and other formal features and use of rhetorical devices. In terms of the quality of style of the Synoptics, Mark is usually considered to be of the lowest style and Luke the highest. Consider sentence structure: Mark is paratactic in style—composed of short sentences (or parts of sentences) weakly connected (by using “and”). Similarly, the scenes are episodic. Luke is more hypotactic in style—making connections between sentences (and parts of sentences), expressed in temporal and logical terms and by the use of subordinate phrases and clauses (e.g., Lk. 1:1–4 is one long sentence in Greek). Symbol: An element (person, place, or thing) in a narrative that represents something beyond itself. The most obvious examples of symbols in the Synoptics are found in Allegories. Tone: A speaker’s implied attitude toward his or her audience. This can refer to a character’s attitude toward other characters she or he is addressing, or to the narrator’s attitude toward the narratee (or reader). For example, in Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem in Matthew 23:37, Jesus’ tone can be interpreted as one of concern and grief, but his tone in the denunciation of the religious leaders in 23:2–36 is clearly accusatory.

Chapter 7 The Experience of the Implied Reader The reason people of faith are concerned with understanding scripture at deeper levels of meaning is so that scripture can impact their lives at deeper levels—so that scripture can influence, shape, even transform their views of God, self, and the world. In other words, we interpret scripture so that it, in turn, might interpret us—revealing who we are and calling us to become who we ought to be. Similar statements could be made, of course, concerning the potential impact any good piece of writing can have on readers. Therefore, it is appropriate at this point that we turn our attention to the experience of the reader as part of the exegetical process. We began by exploring the background of the gospels and then moved to examine the kerygma and author’s intention behind the text. In our last step we analyzed the literary aspects that lie within the text. Now we shift our focus to the reader who stands before the gospels. The Power of the Reader Philosophers have argued that when a tree falls in the woods, it makes no noise unless someone is present to hear it. By the same logic, a text says nothing until someone reads it. We have spent much time discussing how a better understanding of the influence exerted on a passage by the early church, the editor, 131

132 Reading the Synoptic Gospels and the narrator should shape our interpretation. Now we need to appreciate the influence the readers themselves have on the text. Regardless of how well an author writes a book or how well a narrator tells the story, a text is little more than inkblots on a processed wood by-product until someone picks it up and reads it. The written word only becomes communication when people put themselves in the place of receiving the communication. However, the power of the reader extends far beyond the choice to read a text or not. The text is transformed from meaningless inkblots into language as our eyes scan the line and make letters, words, sentences, and paragraphs out of the markings. In this sense, it is neither incorrect nor hyperbolic to say that the reader constructs meaning out of the text instead of discovering meaning in the text. One example used to illustrate this point is as follows: Let us imagine that, on a chalkboard, a professor draws three intersecting lines that look like this:

When she asks the class, “What do these lines mean?” most students will answer that they compose an arrow that points toward something or gives direction. Suppose the teacher presses harder: “Why do the lines mean?” In other words, why do students interpret these three lines as an arrow? Is it because conventional use of three lines intersecting in this fashion defines them as an arrow (as a form critic might argue)? Is it because the teacher intended them to be an arrow (as a redaction critic might argue)? Is it something within the drawing itself that results in its interpretation as an arrow (as a narrative critic might argue)? Or is it because the students have chosen to interpret the lines as an arrow (partially because of the influence of convention, assumptions about the teacher’s intention in writing on the board, and beliefs about inherent meaning in signs)? Imagine three branches have, by pure coincidence, fallen in the woods in the same arrangement. Are these three branches on the ground in the same shape an arrow even if there is no

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authorial intent behind their arrangement? If a hiker comes upon the three branches and changes his direction, it is clear that he has interpreted them as an arrow. If he continues in his original direction, then he has interpreted them as nothing more than three branches fallen in the woods. We have not spent so much time in previous chapters dealing with conventional form, editorial intention, and literary artistry only to deny their role in constructing meaning at this point in the interpretive process. But we do need to assert strongly that readers also make meaning of texts. They are partners (not silent partners, but active partners) with those things that lie in the background, behind, and within the text. Based on their understanding (or lack of understanding), readers construct meaning from their position before the text. This fact raises a caveat in our interpretive process. It warns against the assumption that a gospel passage or a gospel as a whole has only single, correct interpretation. The myriad of readers (each shaped by her or his culture, family of origin, education, psychological development, religious training, etc.) implies a myriad of interpretations. This does not mean, however, that any interpretation is a valid interpretation. Our whole description of the interpretive process has been based on the assumption that the more informed interpreters are, the more responsible an interpretation they will construct. A student could argue that the three intersecting lines the teacher drew on the board represented a still life of a bowl of fruit and a bottle of wine, but the student’s assertion would not be a valid interpretation of the lines. The convention of the arrow, knowledge of the teacher who drew the lines, and appearance of the chalk lines limit the range of responsible interpretations available, even if they do not prescribe a single, absolute interpretation. By the same argument, while the inkblots on a page do not have meaning until readers create meaning out of them, the inkblots are the materials out of which we construct meaning and thus limit the range of valid meanings we can create. Even though there are many valid interpretations of the crucifixion,

134 Reading the Synoptic Gospels it would be irresponsible to interpret the passion narrative of Christ as if it were an instruction manual on animal husbandry or a set of formulas for calculus equations. Throughout this book we have presented the interpretive process as a search to discover the layers of meaning in a gospel passage. Our attention to the power of the reader means we must fine tune that definition of the exegetical goal, but it does not mean that it must be completely abandoned. Even while acknowledging the power of the reader, we continue to affirm that our goal is exegesis, not eisegesis. As responsible readers, we still want to avoid imposing our own prejudices and values onto a pericope. Nevertheless, we must acknowledge, at this point, that the interpretive process is not a purely objective one. Indeed, it is an intensely subjective one. This subjective element of interpretation means not only that readers have great power in interpreting a biblical text (as with any text), but also that the biblical text (as with any text) possesses great potential to influence, persuade, transform, and, yes, interpret readers who commit themselves to the reading and interpretation process. Interpreting the Reading Process Interpretation that focuses on the reader’s power to construct meaning is called reader-response criticism. Various readerresponse approaches share the goal of analyzing the process of reading. They wish to take the pulse of the reader after each word, phrase, sentence, idea, paragraph, movement, and chapter is digested. What expectations are formed? Are those expectations then fulfilled, changed, or completely overturned? To reader-response critics, the significance of the text is not a propositional summary of the text’s content, but the manner in which the reader is affected by the process of reading the text. In actuality, however, there is no agreement among readerresponse critics as to how to determine or describe this effect. There is no single reader-response method; there are numerous reader-response approaches. In this essay we will focus on one

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example of reader-response sensitivities that is accessible to the beginning interpreter. Before launching into reader-response criticism, we must first define some basic terminology. It is necessary to distinguish between the real reader, the implied reader, and the addressee. We will define these terms in relation to the Gospel of Luke, since we have turned to its prologue (1:1–4) to help us before. The real reader is the actual individual standing before the text. In the case of Luke, the real reader is, of course, me, a modern reader/interpreter. Or the real reader might be labeled as “us,” meaning the community of readers that includes me. The implied reader is the type of person(s) for whom the real reader thinks the text was written (the intended audience, if you will). The image we have of this reader is implied from the literary work itself, constructed from clues within the text and our knowledge of the context in which the text was published. Turning to Luke, we noted that the gospel was written sometime after 70 c.e. In the prologue, Luke claims to be writing so that the reader “may know the truth concerning the things about which you have been instructed” (1:4). And, finally, throughout the Gospel (and Acts) there is a strong emphasis on the good news being extended to Gentiles. Thus, Luke’s implied reader is a first-century Gentile Christian. The addressee of a text, on the other hand, is the person whom the narrator in the text directly addresses. Often, the addressee and implied reader are identical, but not always. For example, Alice Walker’s The Color Purple is written in the form of letters, many of which are addressed to God; but clearly the implied reader of these fictional letters is human. In Luke’s prologue a specific addressee is named: Theophilus (1:3). Scholars have long debated whether Theophilus was a real person (who perhaps served as the gospel writer’s patron and publisher) or is a symbolic name (Theo—God, philus—lover). Regardless, Luke certainly writes for a wider audience than a single person. Yet Theophilus is a distinctively Greek name with religious overtones.

136 Reading the Synoptic Gospels So although some distance separates this addressee and the implied Gentile Christian reader, it is a short distance. The type of reader-response criticism we are using in this chapter asks the real reader to identify with the implied reader. To do this, we must know something of the implied reader of the Gospels. Part of this construct of the implied reader comes from our knowledge of the historical and sociological context in which the implied readers would have existed. For example Implied readers of the gospels in the first century would have been part of the literate minority. Specifically, they could read Greek (although that does not help us as English readers). The ability to read in a society that is primarily illiterate usually implies a certain level of education, which required a certain level of wealth. In ancient Mediterranean culture, most of those able to read would have been men, since the patriarchal structures promoted education for males in a way it did not for females. However, the implied “readers” must be expanded somewhat beyond those who could read. Much of ancient literature was read aloud in community for entertainment and instruction. Thus, part of the picture of the implied “reader” is the audience of an oral reading. This audience could have been much more varied in terms of education and class that noted above. The implied readers/hearers would have shared the same worldview as the rest of the Mediterranean world. They would have thought of the world in a nonrationalistic, prescientific manner, and thus focused more on divine and demonic powers at play in the world than on the “forces of nature.” Being part of ancient Mediterranean society, they would have immediately understood references to things such as tax collectors, agricultural practices, geographical regions, and political circumstances. They would not have had the same need for a Bible dictionary that we have.

The other half of our picture comes from implicit signals within the specific writing we are studying itself. For example, We know the implied readers of the Synoptics already knew something of the story of the Christ event. This

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is evident not only in Luke’s prologue, but also in more subtle references, such as the description of Judas early in the narratives as the one “who betrayed Jesus” (Mk. 3:19; cf. Mt. 10:4; Lk. 6:16). Clearly, the implied readers are supposed to understand this reference before they have read the passion narrative. Therefore, the implied readers are not introduced to the Christ event by the gospels, but have their understanding of the Christ event broadened and/or altered. Likewise, the implied readers have some knowledge of and appreciation for Jewish scripture. Otherwise the gospel writers could not have used it so thoroughly, and, at times, so subtly.

By identifying with the implied readers of the Synoptics, we open ourselves to the experience of the implied readers. What expectations would these implied readers have at this point in the narrative? What gaps in the narrative would the implied readers have to fill in, and how would they probably have done it? How would the implied readers experience this rising action, this conflict, this climax, this resolution? Would the implied readers’ assumptions, values, and experiences be attacked, queried, supported, or solicited by the narrator at this point in the story? In other words, as each word, phrase, thought, and sentence of a pericope is digested, we should take the pulse of the implied readers and ask, What would their experience of the scene be at this moment? Having asked these sorts of questions moment by moment, we are able to get a sense of the conjectured evolving experience of the implied readers as they move through a narrative or passage and a sense of the overall effect the reading process would have had on them. Example: Matthew 12:46–50

Identification with the Implied Readers Since we are attempting to understand and identify with the experience of the implied reader, we begin with the assumption that the implied readers/hearers are experiencing the Gospel of

138 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Matthew from beginning to end. By the time they come upon 12:46–50, they have already read or heard 1:1—12:45 and carry impressions from this material with them into their experience of this passage. On the other hand, they have not read or heard any of 13:1—28:20 and have only expectations (based on foreshadowing in the earlier part of the narrative and their prior knowledge of the non-Matthean story of the Christ event) of what is to come. Because of the way the Gospel of Matthew uses scripture and because of the heavy concentration on the conflicts between traditional Jewish life and the new Christian way of life, many scholars argue that Matthew’s implied readers were Jewish Christians.

Experience of the Implied Readers Having submitted to the identity of the implied reader, we are ready to begin the process of reading while constantly taking our pulse. We take stock of ourselves as we ingest each movement of the passage: While he was still speaking to the crowds,

The narrator introduces the scene by connecting it with the preceding scenes, in which (as we have seen) Jesus has been in conflict. Reading these opening words, the implied reader might expect that conflict to continue.

his mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him.

The expectation of conflict would lessen with the introduction of Jesus’ family into the scene. Although this is Matthew’s first mention of Jesus’ brothers, the reader has already been introduced to Mary in the infancy narrative. The fact that an angel of the Lord defended Mary to Joseph and described her giving birth to Jesus as a fulfillment of scripture (1:20–22) gives the implied reader a strong positive image of her (and thus of her other children with her). Still, the family’s sudden appearance is surprising (and puzzling) to the implied reader.

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Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.”

Since the character who speaks here is anonymous (instead of being designated as either an opponent or a follower) and his speech provides the reader with no new information, the implied reader’s experience of the text is not altered greatly at this point. The speech allows the reader the opportunity to assume that Jesus will have a positive response to his mother and brothers similar to our own.

But to the one who had told him this, Jesus replied,

The use of the conjunction “but” immediately establishes in the reader a sense that what is to follow will be contrary to what has preceded. The reader now suspects that the previous expectation needs to be modified.

“Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?”

The implied reader’s suspicion is confirmed. Jesus has not identified with his family as the reader expected. Instead, he has asked an almost nonsensical question that moves the reader to desire an explanation. The reader, however, has been given no clues with which to predict the content of that explanation. The reader is drawn into the short scene by having his or her expectations overturned twice and by having her or his curiosity piqued concerning what Jesus will say next.

And pointing to his disciples,

The reference to the disciples would catch the implied reader off guard. Since the disciples have been present in so many scenes throughout Matthew up to this point, the reader might well assume they are present. But Jesus’ turning to them is as abrupt as the appearance of his family at the opening of the scene. There has been no mention of them previously in this scene and no foreshadowing that they were to appear. This shift would have been impossible to anticipate.

140 Reading the Synoptic Gospels he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers!

Jesus’ answer to his own question would surprise the implied reader. It would also leave the implied reader wanting (and expecting) a rationale for the substitution of disciples for blood relatives as “family.”

For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”

The expectation for such a rationale is fulfilled by Jesus. In this closing statement Jesus redefines both family and disciples. Of all the characters in the gospel, it can be assumed that the implied reader, as a first-century Christian, would most closely identify with the disciples. Therefore, the resolution of the scene could provoke numerous types of responses, depending on how strongly the individual implied reader identified with the disciples. For example: (1) The implied reader might have a sense of pride, joy, or fulfillment at the idea of being recognized as part of Jesus’ own family. (2) The language of being in Jesus’ family might strengthen the implied reader’s emotional tie with other Christians, since he or she has already heard Jesus refer to members of the community of faith as “brothers and sisters” (5:22, 23, 47; cf. 5:44). (3) From a different angle, the implied reader might question whether she or he has been doing the will of God, and thus whether or not she or he is part of Jesus’ family (i.e., whether she or he is a true disciple). (4) If the implied reader assumes that Jesus is a model for authentic existence in the faith, then this scene would be viewed as a confirmation of Jesus’ earlier comments about the divisions that people of faith would experience in their own families (10:21, 35–37). And thus, again, we see that Jesus’ pronouncement could be experienced by the implied reader as either call or comfort. How the implied reader would respond to this continuing emphasis would depend on his or her own experience with family after conversion.

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Although we have not exhausted all possible responses to Matthew 12:46–50, we have illustrated the point that narratives are, by nature, multivalent. Meaning cannot be separated from the reader’s experience, and thus there are as many possible readings as there are readers themselves. The type of response evoked by a narrative is dependent on the social, economic, and historical location of the reader, as well as by the psychological, intellectual, and physical state of the reader. By focusing on the implied reader (an ideal reader, as some refer to the role) instead of ourselves as real readers, we have considerably narrowed the range of responses we consider during our exegetical process, but even this focus does not lead to a single interpretation. For Further Reading Davies, Eryl W. “Reader Response Criticism.” In Biblical Criticism: A Guide for the Perplexed, 11–35. New York: Bloomsbury T & T Clark, 2013. Detweiler, Robert, ed. Reader Response Approaches to Biblical and Secular Texts. Semeia 31 (1985). Fowler, Robert M. “Reader-Response Criticism: Figuring Mark’s Reader.” In Mark & Method: New Approaches in Biblical Studies, 2nd ed., edited by Janice Capel Anderson and Stephen D. Moore. 59–94. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2008. ____. Let the Reader Understand: Reader Response Criticism and the Gospel of Mark. Minneapolis, Fortress Press, 1991. Lategan, Bernard C. “Reader Response Theory.” In The Anchor Bible Dictionary, edited by David Noel Freedman, 5.625– 28. New York: Doubleday, 1992. McKnight, Edgar V. Postmodern Use of the Bible: The Emergence of Reader-Oriented Criticism. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1988. ____, ed. Reader Perspectives on the New Testament. Semeia 48 (1989).

142 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Moore, Stephen D. “Stories of Reading: Doing Gospel Criticism as/with a Reader.” In Literary Criticism and the Gospels: The Theoretical Challenge, 71–107. New Haven/London: Yale University Press, 1989. Resseguie, James L. “Reader-Response Criticism and the Synoptic Gospels.” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 52 (1984): 307–24. Sanders, E. P., and Margaret Davies. “Rhetorical Criticism and the ‘Implied Reader.’” In Studying the Synoptic Gospels, 240–51. London/Philadelphia: SCM/Trinity Press International, 1989. Vanhoozer, Kevin J. “The Reader in New Testament Interpretation.” In Hearing the New Testament: Strategies for Interpretation, edited by Joel B. Green, 301–28. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995.

Chapter 8 Reading for Ideology In the last chapter we moved from attending to meaning within the text (literary reading) to the experience of the implied reader making meaning standing before the text. In our discussion of that experience of making meaning, we named the importance of recognizing the subjectivity of the reader—no one approaches a text without presuppositions based on past experiences, knowledge, and beliefs that shape their interpretation. In this next exegetical step, we move from simply acknowledging these sorts of presuppositions in the reader to using them explicitly to shape the very questions we ask of a text. We shift our stance before the text from an implied (ancient) reader to the real (contemporary) reader who analyzes the text for its ideological claims based on the reader’s (or, more properly, a community of readers’) ideological commitments. Ideology Is Not a Bad Word In common parlance, the word ideology is usually used in a pejorative sense. Someone who is accused of being “ideological” (or being an “ideologue”) is being labeled as entrenched, rigid, and even extremist in one’s political stance. To say people have an ideology in this sense means we can dismiss them because their position is unreasonable and uncompromising. Scholarly use of “ideology” and “ideological” as technical terms, however, is much more positive. While they nuance their definition as a technical term in different ways, scholars agree 143

144 Reading the Synoptic Gospels that every individual and every social group is ideological. An ideology is a worldview, and no human being or human community exists without a worldview. To be more precise, we can use the following working definition: An ideology is a complex system of beliefs, values, and interpretations of reality held (often unconsciously) by a particular group, which provides a framework for its members to understand and promote their place in the perceived natural, social, and political order.

In other words, an ideological stance is a constructed picture of what reality “really is,” how it “ought to be,” and the role we ought to play in both the present and potential states of reality. Thus to rephrase what we said above about subjectivity in the previous chapter, no interpreter of a text is ideologically neutral. In the early days of the methods we studied in the first five chapters of this book, however, historical critics of the Bible sought to overcome the reader’s ideology with methods purported to be objective, even “scientific.” Ideological critics of the Bible argue that such attempts are both futile and unfruitful. Thus an important part of ideological approaches has been to critique the pretense of non-ideological readings. This is important to do because ideologies are not neutral. They exert force on the world in the manner in which they promote their socio-political frameworks. Ideologies favor certain interpretations of reality and reject others. Ideologies can support or challenge the status quo. They can legitimate those in control, or revolt against them. They can suppress differing perceptions of the world and slant interpretations in a way that solidifies the power of those who promote the view while oppressing others, or they can propose alternate interpretations of reality that liberate the oppressed and topple those in power. In other words, ideologies are social constructs with purpose and different levels of power in promoting their purposes. Ideologies are never simply descriptive; they are also always prescriptive. Broadly speaking, then, ideological criticisms of the Bible grow out of the experiences of groups that have been underrep-

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resented, marginalized, oppressed, and/or silenced in society in the past. The dominant voice in most arenas (i.e., social, political, economic, and religious arenas) of Western culture, including biblical interpretation, has been that of the white, Eurocentric, patriarchal, heterosexual, educated, wealthy male. This voice has named what it means to be human, what society should look like, what is appropriate ethical behavior, the proper nature of economic systems, the hierarchy of existential concerns, the “correct” understanding of history, and even who/what God is. This voice has had the “right” answers to the questions because it has controlled the questions. New voices from a myriad of other groups are asking new questions that cast light into the shadows of systems defined by the dominant voice. Drawing on suppressed systems of beliefs, values, and interpretations of reality, these new voices provide very different answers to the questions being asked than the dominant voice has been willing to consider (or even allow) in the past. Thus ideological criticisms of the Bible are closely associated with liberation and political theologies. Described this way, ideological criticisms of biblical writings have two targets when it comes to asking new questions as part of interpreting biblical texts. The first is an ideological critique of the ideology of the text itself. In other words, the ideology of the reader is consciously and explicitly brought into conversation with the ideology of the biblical writer/writing. The New Testament represents voices of a Christian movement that was in many ways socially, economically, and politically marginalized in the ancient Roman Empire, so the ideological critic often finds a partner in the text. On the other hand, hierarchy and hegemony can be a part of oppressed groups as well as in the ruling class. For instance, the oppressed writers of the New Testament documents were all presumably male; so, ideological critics reading from the experience of women will often not find a partner in the text. The second target is an ideological critique of the ideologies of previous interpretations of the text. The ideology of

146 Reading the Synoptic Gospels the reader is brought to bear on previous interpretations to expose where they may have perpetuated oppressive ideological assumptions and claims of a text or have used elements of the text in support of an ideological orientation not actually asserted by the text. Ideological criticisms of the Bible analyze the way texts and interpretations of texts (and the social, political, and religious institutions behind both) implicitly and explicitly assert an ideological orientation on the readers to persuade them to embrace or reject a specific construct of reality. Ideological critics look for partners in texts and interpretations that support the framework for describing/prescribing the interpretation of reality they want to promote and challenge those texts and interpretations that counter that framework. “Criticisms” Is Plural Similar to reader-response approaches to biblical texts, ideological criticisms are less a method and more represent a critical, hermeneutical sensitivity and commitment to ideological stances and the ways they are uncovered in texts and interpretations of texts. The reason we have been careful to use the plural form—speaking of ideological criticisms instead of ideological criticism—is because critics operate from such a wide variety of ideological stances. Indeed, so varying are these stances and the hermeneutical approaches that flow from them that any introduction to ideological criticisms in general (such as this one) will evoke critique as not adequately naming any stance or approach. Out of deep existential and socio-ethical commitments, ideological critics read from the location of a socio-political community on the basis of sex/gender, sexual orientation, religion/theology, political alignment, political status, race/ethnicity, geographic region, economics/class, and environmental concerns. This list is not only not exhaustive; it is also extremely fluid. Human beings are members of multiple overlapping and competing communities, leaving us as products of multiple overlapping and competing ideologies. Ideological critics choose a particular ideological

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stance from which to interpret a text. Even though one ideological issue might receive prominence, that particular stance is likely related to a number of ideological commitments drawn from a number of communities. For example, a womanist reader will be concerned with analyzing a text in relation to gender, race, and class all at the same time because all three impact the lives of African American women. In this book, we are concerned with ideological criticism not as an isolated hermeneutical approach to the Synoptics as opposed to the others we have examined, but as an important step to work in conjunction with the other exegetical steps we have examined. It is beyond our scope to survey the various ideological criticisms or to argue in an in-depth manner for any single ideological criticism. We leave the reader to explore her or his own ideological commitments and the need to bring those specific frameworks to bear on the reading of the Synoptics. Our limited goal in what follows is simply to name some techniques for attending to ideological values promoted in the text in general at a beginning exegetical level (without implying that these techniques represent a full-blown methodology). Three realities make it extremely difficult to describe the practical application of an ideological stance as part of an exegetical process involving numerous methodologies. First, any ideological criticism presupposes a critical, sustained, and existential engagement with an ideological orientation. Second, adherents to an ideology can disagree significantly among themselves, so no single description of a stance will be representative of all who hold that stance. Third, to be able to name correctly the ideological positions found in and suppressed by the text, ideological critique of the New Testament calls for a sophisticated level of socio-scientific familiarity with the ancient Mediterranean cultural and political landscape. These complicating factors do not mean novice exegetes should avoid ideological interpretation as part of their exegesis, but they do warn us that we should be careful not to weigh

148 Reading the Synoptic Gospels too heavily our ideological observations without either having more deeply engaged ideological orientations and methods as just mentioned or having corroborated our observations with biblical scholarship. Another warning should be added before offering specific ideological critical steps to use in exegesis. The author of this book is a white, European-descended, heterosexual, Protestant, middle-class male (i.e., has experienced a life of privilege supported by the dominant ideological worldview in North American culture). Ideological readers appropriately would refuse to recognize me as a legitimate representative of any underrepresented, marginalized, oppressed, or silenced group in the world. I cannot name how reality is experienced as a female, Latina/o, poor, or gay person. This does not mean, however, that I can offer no ideological critique of a text or interpretation of a text that would be valued by those who are “other” than me. I do so by seeking to identify with what I have learned of their experiences from their own voices. An analogous situation appears in the imaginative approach we took in identifying with the implied readers in the previous chapter. This approach involves critiquing my own ideological biases and the privilege that they support. I cannot presume to speak, for instance, for African Americans who have been oppressed by content and use of the biblical text, but I can speak in solidarity with them. Any of us can (and should!) offer ideological interpretations that are sympathetic to those different from us, but we should offer such interpretations humbly, with an openness to dialogue and correction. Whereas earlier forms of ideological criticisms spoke of the experience of an identity group in generalized terms, more nuanced ways of speaking of experience has developed with the postmodern recognition that experience within a group is anything but homogeneous. Ideological Criticism as One Step in Exegesis Earlier, we noted that ideological criticism is concerned with the ideologies of both the ancient text and the history of interpretation of that text. We begin with the ideological cri-

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tique of the ideology of the pericope. The goal is to examine how power is encoded in the pericope. The examination is for the sake of evaluation to help us determine whether we should embrace or repudiate the way the text has assumed, assimilated, and asserted its ideological concerns. This evaluation has both a negative and a positive aspect to it. First, the negative. Does the pericope proffer or support an ideological stance that constructs difference and power in ways that subordinate or dominate those “other” than the central voice in culture? Because of the nature of narrative, explicit negative ideological claims are few. We should nevertheless attend to whether the narrator or a character makes any explicit ideological statement. For example, in 6:32, Matthew presents Jesus as characterizing Gentiles (an ethnic category) explicitly. Jesus has been instructing the disciples not to worry over material things and then says, “For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things…” Most ideological assertions of a narrative text are less direct, however. For instance, in Mark 7:24–30 a woman the narrator characterizes as “a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin” asks Jesus to exorcize a demon from her daughter. Jesus responds by saying, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” In this difficult line, Mark presents Jesus metaphorically referring to Gentiles as dogs. The impact of such a claim is clear, but the use of metaphor implies (instead of stating directly) the author’s ideological stance. Of course, the woman persuades Jesus in the end (vv. 28–29), so the author seems to intend the dismantling of such an ideological claim. Still more problematic is the fact that most ideological positions held by a text are not only implicit but also much less obvious than the previous example. Consider Jesus’ instructions to the Twelve in Matthew, “Go nowhere among the Gentiles, and enter no town of the Samaritans, but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (10:5–6). Clearly the text expresses a preference for Jews over Gentiles and Samaritans. The nature of the preference, however, is not clear at all. Is this a geographical, ethnic, or religious concern?

150 Reading the Synoptic Gospels The implicit, subtle nature of many ideological elements in biblical narrative means we need to read the text with a hermeneutic of suspicion, an approach that recognizes the surface level meaning of a text may hide socio-political interests served by that text. By attending to silences, gaps, and absences in the pericope, the interpreter unmasks these interests (i.e., hegemonic social, political, cultural, religious, and economic positions or assumptions) evidenced by biases, prejudices, privileges, and injustices. In other words, what is not said can be just as important for the way a text constructs meaning as what it does say. In narratives, ideological critics will often need to attend to the way groups of people (e.g., women or Gentiles) are characterized. What roles are they given? How are they stereotyped? Similarly, readers need to attend to the nature of relationships between characters representing different groups, because all relationships involve power and positioning. For example, who speaks, who listens, and who gets the last word? In addition to unearthing specific ideologically loaded language, references, and characterization, exegetes should attend to the way the text might deconstruct itself. In other words, the interpreter uncovers inconsistencies in the vision (or argument) of a pericope, exposing ways the underlying structural logic of the narrative contradicts what seems to be the obvious assertion at the surface level. Take, for instance, the story of the woman anointing Jesus’ feet in Luke 7:36–50. Jesus defends her actions over against the religious leaders. On the surface, Jesus would seem to be raising the status of women. But Luke presents Jesus as using the woman as a christological object lesson and never allows her to speak in the scene (an example of the silencing dynamic described in the previous paragraph). The patriarchal aspect of the pericope deconstructs the liberating aspect. In addition to critiquing the negative ideological aspects of the pericope, we also look for positive ideological elements. We do so by following the same basic steps—looking for explicit, implicit, and hidden ideological stances that support our ideological commitments. While many values of the dominant powers

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find their way into the gospel narrative, we must remember that the gospels are, at their roots, countercultural documents. Even where they seem to support the “traditional” ideological values of the age, we may find in the silences and gaps of the pericope a theological element that deconstructs the logic of the dominant voice. Consider, for instance, Mary’s portrayal in the opening of Luke’s narrative. In the scene in which the angel appears to her to tell her she is pregnant (1:26–38), a number of elements point to Mary assuming the standard submissive role of a woman, even in relation to the miraculous birth. First, Mary’s story echoes the story of Hannah (1 Sam. 1—2) even as the previous story of Elizabeth getting pregnant echoes the story of Sarah (Lk. 1:5–25; Gen. 17:1–19). Together these stories perpetuate the idea that a woman’s role and value are rooted in bearing children. Second, Mary’s encounter with the angel ends with her accepting the role of “servant of the Lord” (v. 38), naming the way women experienced much of life throughout history—being enslaved to the father of their children. Later, when Mary goes to see Elizabeth, she speaks ecstatically in praise of God (1:46–55). The opening of the speech (traditionally called the Magnificat) sounds again like Hannah’s rejoicing over no longer being barren (“for [God] has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed,” v. 48). The speech continues on, however, naming the ways God (through the Christ child) will turn the tables on the powerful and lift up the oppressed. Mary is characterized as a prophet, a role not readily given to women in the ancient world. So the author/narrator uses and then deconstructs the traditional portrayal of women in a manner positive for readers committed to the liberation of women in today’s context. Having investigated the text ideologically, we now turn to an ideological critique of the ideology of previous interpretations of the pericope. We are concerned with this because we do not read the Bible in a vacuum. In ways of which we are not always

152 Reading the Synoptic Gospels aware, our contemporary individual, communal, and institutional interpretations of passages are shaped by past interpretations. We begin, therefore, with a question about how the individual pericope has been used ideologically: Has the pericope explicitly been interpreted or used as part of an ideological debate, struggle, or assertion? The problem with this question is that it is difficult for a beginning exegete to answer. The best we can do is see what issues from the history of interpretation are raised by critical commentaries we consult. (We will finally be suggesting turning to commentaries in the next chapter.) Commentaries are not usually concerned with reviewing the full history of interpretation of a pericope, but they do deal with dominant readings. Thus central ideological concerns of the past may be noted with some passages. For example, we can return to the story of the woman anointing Jesus’ feet mentioned above (Lk. 7:36–50). The narrator describes the woman as “a woman in the city, who was a sinner” (v. 37). A good commentary will likely note that many interpreters of the past have assumed that the woman was a prostitute, even though the narrator does not specify the nature of her sin whatsoever. This reveals the prejudice of male interpreters in assuming that a woman’s sin would be sexual. A little more accessible to the beginning exegete is the question, Does the pericope (or elements of it) fit with broader ideological assertions that have been part of the history of Christian biblical interpretation in general? Without necessarily being knowledgeable of the way an individual pericope has been used ideologically, an exegete with ideological concerns should be aware of general directions interpretation has taken in relation to those concerns. So, for instance, a reader with an eye to ideological concerns should notice red flags all around the following scene: Now the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowds to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus killed. The governor again said to them, “Which of the two do you want me to release for you?” And they said, “Barabbas.” Pilate said to them, “Then what should I do with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” All of them said, “Let him be crucified!” Then

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he asked, “Why, what evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Let him be crucified!” So when Pilate saw that he could do nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took some water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” Then the people as a whole answered, “His blood be on us and on our children!” (Mt. 27:20–25)

Throughout much of the history of the church, Christians have persecuted Jews, supported in part by the accusation that they “killed Jesus.” Matthew’s portrayal of Pilate declaring his own innocence and the (Jewish) crowd claiming responsibility at the end of the passage has played a significant role in this antiSemitic characterization. As the opening line shows, however, Matthew’s indictment is really focused on the religious leaders, not on the Jewish people as an ethno-religious group. Naming negative and positive ideological elements of the text and the history of interpretation is only part of ideological critical approaches. Ideological critics are committed to taking an ideological stance in relation to the ideological nuances in the text and its past interpretations. When we read ideologically, we use pericopes that support our ideological agendas as biblical support for those agendas. On the other hand, if a pericope is deemed oppressive or counter to our agendas, we may offer an interpretation that goes against the grain of the text. To read against the grain is to refuse to submit to the ideological direction in which a text or interpretations of a text attempt to lead the reader. In other words, the interpreter intentionally stands over against the pericope, naming her or his disagreement with it. Either of these options involves a recognition that the Bible does not speak with one voice. Ideological readers who argue that overall scripture supports their ideological commitments weigh the stance of an individual pericope over against the broader range of voices of the canon they view as compatible with their commitments. So, for instance, if readers assume (and agree with) the idea that the Bible primarily presents a theological preference for the poor, they will evaluate individual pericopes

154 Reading the Synoptic Gospels that deal with class by valuing those texts that accord with this primary emphasis and challenging those that assume or assert that wealth is a sign of God’s providential care. Example: Matthew 12:46–50

Ideological Critique of the Ideology of the Pericope For the sake of illustration of an ideological approach, we will focus our discussion of our example pericope on concerns dealing with sex/gender. “Sex” refers to the biological differences between females and males, while “gender” refers to the socially constructed differences between women and men. Specifically, we will stand in solidarity with feminist concerns about the status of women in society and examine if and how this text constructs the identity and role of women. We look for negative and positive ideological stances toward women in the text. We must attend to explicit, implicit, and hidden values concerning women. First, we can simply note where women are explicitly mentioned in the text. The primary mention of women is the use of the term “mother.” In verses 46 and 47, the narrator and an anonymous speaker refer specifically to Jesus’ mother. In verses 48–50, Jesus uses the term three times metaphorically along with “brother.” In the last instance (in v. 50), Jesus is presented as adding another explicit reference to women by including “sisters” in the list of metaphorical relations. There is, however, no commentary on the role of female family members (literal or metaphorical) distinct from the male members. There is only a distinction between all familial-type roles in Jesus’ community and God as Father. As we have seen, Matthew presents Jesus as replacing familial commitments with a commitment to doing God’s will. Since the explicit concern is not the role of women, the next question is how the text implicitly deals with the role of women in the way (1) Jesus’ mother is characterized in the opening verses and (2) “mother” and “sister” are used to describe members of the new family of followers of Jesus in the closing verses. In the opening verses, it is striking that the mother of Jesus is never named and never speaks. We know her name from the

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opening two chapters of the gospel, but she does not speak there either. Unlike in the Gospel of Luke, where the angel converses with Mary, in Matthew the angel speaks only with Joseph. Even though Joseph does not appear in our example pericope, Mary is still not allowed to speak. Instead of announcing herself, an anonymous male tells Jesus that she and her sons are outside. She desires to speak (v. 46), but neither the narrator nor Jesus allows her to do so. She (along with Jesus’ brothers) is relegated to the role of setting up Jesus’ speech about doing God’s will instead of being invited into the conversation itself. In the closing verses, on the other hand, “mother” and “sister” are terms used metaphorically for members of the family of disciples doing God’s will. Especially the adding in of “sisters” in the final verse when no sister has been mentioned earlier in the pericope implies an acceptance of women in Christian community and affirms women’s ability to do God’s will as well as can men. This language seems to imply a break from the patriarchal family structures we discovered earlier in our study in which women and children stand under the authority of a husband/ father. It seems this way, that is, until we attend to the fact that in this passage (and in Matthew as a whole) God is referred to as “Father.” This implies one patriarchal structure replacing another. Women disciples may be placed alongside men disciples in this passage, but they are still under the authority of a male God. What we have found, then, is that in some ways the text seems to support the liberation of women from oppressive structures that see them as less than men, but in other ways the text perpetuates patriarchy. The text’s implicit ideological stances concerning women deconstruct themselves.

Ideological Critique of the Ideology of Previous Interpretations of the Pericope As we noted earlier, unless we are already familiar with such issues, we may have to turn to commentaries (as we will in the next step) to locate any ideologically slanted interpretations of this pericope that have been an influential part of the history of its interpretation.

156 Reading the Synoptic Gospels This does not mean that we cannot answer (at least partially) the question, Does the pericope (or elements of it) fit with broader ideological assertions that have been part of the history of Christian biblical interpretation in general? We have seen the tensions between the way that the pronouncement in verse 50 places women alongside men as being a part of Jesus’ family doing God’s will, while keeping them in a patriarchal structure that subordinates women (mother and sisters) in a way it does not men (brothers). This subordination of women has continued in the way the church has often interpreted God’s will for women in very different ways than it has for men. Indeed, often the call to “serve God” has been translated for women as being subordinate to and serving men.

Taking an Ideological Stance in Relation to the Ideological Nuances in the Pericope and Its Past Interpretations Given what we have named above about the ideological portrayal of women in the text and in the general interpretation of women’s roles in relation to the text, what stance should an ideological reader with feminist concerns take in relation to our example pericope? Would we use the passage’s image of women doing God’s will alongside men as part of Jesus’ new family to promote a view of the equality of women in the church and society? Or would we stand in resistance against the way the text (and the tradition of interpretation) perpetuates a patriarchal structure through which women must relate to God and the community? In truth these need not be either/or choices. Readers can be more nuanced, both lifting up some ideological aspects of a text and arguing against others in the same interpretation. Present the deconstruction, but then side with the positive aspects, if you will. When we choose our ideological stance in relation to our passage, we should remind ourselves that this does not cancel out all of the exegetical observations we have made about 12:46–50 using earlier methods. An ideological critic would

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read the text specifically for ideological purposes to bring the text into a conversation with a particular ideological arena. We, on the other hand, have presented an ideological reading as part of an overarching exegetical process. Discussing it last in our order of methodologies is not meant to present it as the epitome of exegesis, but neither should ideological criticism be an afterthought to the rest of exegesis. As with all of the methods we have discussed, at times this method will reveal more important exegetical data than others. Regardless, the ideological discoveries we have made with this approach should be added to the mix of all the other observations. The other observations did not lead us to see our example pericope as primarily being about the status of women, and this step has not led us to that conclusion either. This ideological step has, however, allowed us to see that even if the concerns about women we have raised are not of primary focus for the passage, they are very much present and should not be ignored in our interpretation. For Further Reading Note: The following bibliography suggests readings that introduce ideological critical exegesis. Space limits do not allow for listing works introducing individual ideological orientations, but readers are advised to seek out such works as part of their journey toward strengthening skills as ideological readers.

Adam, A. K. M. Faithful Interpretation: Reading the Bible in a Postmodern World. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2006 _____. What Is Postmodern Biblical Criticism? Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995. Castelli, Elizabeth A., et al., eds. The Postmodern Bible. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997. Davies, Eryl W. “Ideological Criticism.” In Biblical Criticism: A Guide for the Perplexed, 61–80. New York: Bloomsbury T & T Clark, 2013. Fewell, Danna Nolan, “Reading the Bible Ideologically: Feminist Criticism,” and Fernando F. Segovia, “Reading the Bible Ideologically: Socioeconomic Criticism.” In To Each

158 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Its Own Meaning: An Introduction to Biblical Criticisms and Their Application, revised & expanded, edited by Steven L. McKenzie and Stephen B. Haynes, 268–300. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1999. Foskett, Mary F. “When Worlds Collide: Reading against the Grain of the Text.” In Interpreting the Bible, 55–66. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2009. Hayes, John H., and Carl R. Holladay, “Exegesis with a Special Focus: Cultural Economic, Ethnic, Gender and Sexual Perspectives.” In Biblical Exegesis: A Beginner’s Handbook, 3rd ed., 167–76. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2007. Jobling, David, and Tina Pippin, eds. Semeia 59: Ideological Criticism of Biblical Texts. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 1992. Pippin, Tina. “Ideological Criticism, Liberation Criticism, and Womanist and Feminist Criticism.” In A Handbook to the Exegesis of the New Testament, edited by Stanley E. Porter, 267–75. Boston: Brill, 2002. Yee, Gail A. “Ideological Criticism.” In Dictionary of Biblical Interpretation, edited by John H. Hayes, 1.534–37. Nashville: Abingdon, 1999.

Chapter 9 Synthesizing Exegetical Observations for a Unified Reading We introduced our exploration of exegesis with these words: Anyone who has ever attended a Bible study or listened to a sermon is likely to have heard the expression, “What this scripture passage means to me is…” Is it any wonder then that the common assumption among readers of the Bible is that the meaning of scripture is easily accessible? The impression given is that all that is required to interpret any passage is reading and personal reflection. A scriptural passage may have other meanings for other people, but it means this “to me.” In such a view of scripture the author, or perhaps God, is seen as speaking directly to the contemporary reader in a manner and with a message that is easily discernible. This book is dedicated to the idea that layers of meanings in the biblical writings are indeed accessible to anyone who is willing to read them, but also on the recognition that there is nothing simple or easy about uncovering those layers of meaning. Interpreting texts with depth is hard work. Reading must give way to study. Reflection must incorporate research. The meanings in any piece of literature (including the biblical writings) that are worth discovering, expounding, and claiming as one’s own are rarely those found at the surface level of a first reading. One must search over and over again to find the true treasures hidden in such a field of meaning (p. 1).

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160 Reading the Synoptic Gospels In the pages in between those opening words and this closing chapter, we have introduced a range of exegetical approaches that explore different layers of meaning in a pericope found in the Synoptic Gospels. Returning to the analogy of exegesis as an archaeological dig, we’ve focused on three main layers of the text, to each of which we bring different tools. After plotting out our dig area by establishing the pericope, text, and plain sense, we dig first down into the layer of meaning found behind the text, i.e., in the history behind the production of the text. We started by looking at ways of exploring the sociohistorical and literary backgrounds of the pericope. Then we analyzed the form of the individual pericope apart from its narrative context, and hypothesized how the story or saying would have functioned in the life of the early church. Finally, we considered the pericope as embedded in the gospel narrative, examining edited elements, and raising questions about the author’s intent. Although redaction criticism is interested in the author who stands behind the text, its emphasis on the final form of the text set up our move to begin digging into the level of meaning found in the text itself. Exploring the text as literature, we looked closely at its narrative elements—e.g., genre, setting, characterization, plot, figurative language. Finally, we dug into a new level of meaning—that of the reader standing before the text. First, we imagined the experience of the implied reader making meaning of the passage step by step. Then we attended to ways contemporary readers investigate and respond to the ideologies of a text and its earlier interpretations. Truly, there is nothing simple about employing all these methods when studying a passage from one of the Synoptic Gospels. It should be said, however, that the more we do exegesis the more the methods described in this book become second nature to us. Whereas these critical methods—that is, form through ideological criticisms—developed basically in the order presented here and can be used independently of the other methods in the book, exegesis as we have been describing it is a process in which all the different layers of meaning are deserving

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of attention…all in the same interpretation. The more we have assimilated these methods into the way we ask questions of a pericope, the more we will find ourselves making observations concerning form, narrative qualities, and the reader’s experience all at the same time. This is where exegesis gets tricky. Now that we have all these observations about all the different layers of meaning found using all these different approaches to the synoptic text piling on top of each other, what are we to do with them? How do we bring them all together into a unified, legitimate, meaningful interpretation of our pericope? In other words, once we have gathered exegetical data, we must ask, So what? We back away a few steps from all of the artifacts we have uncovered in our dig so that we can see them lying on the ground together and determine what the significance of the dig is, given all these discoveries. Now that we have all this exegetical data, what does the passage (as a whole) mean? The Difficulty with Synthesizing Asking “What does the passage mean?” is a complex question. For instance, even if we narrow the question to, “What did the passage mean in its original context?” the word “original” is ambiguous. Does it refer to the saying or action as it represents something as it originally occurred in Jesus’ day, in the original proclamation of the early church, or in the author’s original intention? Complicating matters more, to ask about original context ignores what we have learned about the final form of the text exerting literary meaning on its own and about the way readers make meaning of texts. Thus it is inappropriate to offer an interpretation in which we simply focus on one method or one level of meaning. On the other hand, in exegesis, the parts cannot simply be added up to equal a sum. Simply walking through all the steps introduced in this book is not the same thing as interpreting a passage. These steps are the research tools that lead us to propose an interpretation of a passage from the Synoptic Gospels.

162 Reading the Synoptic Gospels The use of the singular, “an interpretation,” is intentional. By acknowledging the different layers of the text to which we attend, we acknowledge that texts and exegesis invite multiple interpretations. Moreover, as we have pointed out in the last two chapters, the subjectivity and social location of the reader to a great deal shape what the reader experiences and finds in the text. Thus, no single reading of a passage is the correct reading. The exegete’s job is to propose an interpretation, a way of suggesting the overarching significance and meaning of a passage. The word “propose” is also intentional. The interpreter’s job is to focus attention toward a particular way of reading a pericope. This does not imply that we must argue that this is the only interpretation of a passage. We have collected data and analyzed it to the point that we are willing to propose that one plausible interpretation of a passage among other plausible interpretations is such and such. This is not to imply that all interpretations are equal. We can neither make of a text what we want nor choose to acknowledge some data while ignoring others. Given all of the data we have discovered, what do we think is the best way to name the big picture? One way of thinking about offering an interpretation as our proposal over against other possible proposals is to consider how the results of exegesis are shared. While critical exegesis can and should play a role in the reading experience of those who hold the Bible as authoritative in some way for their faith and life, usually full-blown exegesis leads to the production of some communication of a proposed interpretation to others. This communication might be in the form of an academic paper presented to a professor, an element of a monological sermon presented to a congregation, or part of a give-and-take conversation with others in a Bible study. Offering an interpretation in contexts such as these involves more than giving someone a tour of the archaeological dig and pointing out this or that as we just happen to stumble across different artifacts. It is more than just repeating all the observations we have made while progressing through the steps of exegesis, hoping the parts equal the whole. Propos-

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ing an interpretation is to attempt to persuade an audience that (i.e., to argue for) a particular reading of a passage as legitimate and meaningful given all the data in view. Synthesizing the Exegetical Data The first step in synthesizing the exegetical data in developing and proposing an overarching interpretation of a synoptic pericope is to be honest and explicit about the level of meaning we privilege as a reader. For theological reasons and/or our general posture of reading (i.e., hermeneutics), each of us is inclined to give more weight to one level of reading—behind, in, or before the text—than the others. Consider the issue in terms of the kind of authority that different persons of faith might accord to the Synoptic Gospels as scripture. One person can assert that a text has authority as it reflects the historical actions and sayings of Jesus, while another argues that authorial intent is the locus of authority of any text. One can say that the canonical form of the text is authoritative and argue that a literary approach should be primary in interpretation, while another argues that as a document of the church the role the narrative was to play in the first community of readers is authoritative and thus focus on the experience of the implied reader should be primary. Part of determining what level of meaning we privilege is related to the context for which we are interpreting the passage in the first place. In a religious studies course dealing with the Gospels, the instructor might well push student interpreters to favor meanings found behind the text in terms of the historical development of the text in the first century. In a faith community where people read the Bible to inform the nature of their existence as Christians, a preacher or teacher may be expected to lean toward emphasizing our standing before the text today, and need to bring reader-response and ideological reading to the forefront of the interpretation. In naming the layer of meaning we privilege, then, we must also be clear why we are giving added status to that layer. With good and clear reasons, then, we accord the exegetical methods

164 Reading the Synoptic Gospels that explore that level a stronger voice in shaping our overarching interpretation. This does not mean we can ignore the other layers of meaning and the other methods of interpretation. Instead, we use methods that explore other layers of meaning to support, expand, and correct our exegesis of the privileged layer. Having located ourselves in relation to the data we have found, we are ready to begin sifting through that data and determining what is most helpful and important in shaping our interpretive proposal. A place to begin is reading commentaries. Throughout this book we have resisted the temptation to jump too quickly to see what other exegetes (even more highly trained exegetes) have found in a pericope out of concern that their findings would prejudice ours. Once we have worked thoroughly through an exegetical process, however, a commentary can serve as a conversation partner to whom we attend critically instead of a voice that predetermines the full parameters and outcome of the conversation. A good critical commentary should include several elements that will help us (1) test our analysis of the data we have collected and (2) move toward a summative interpretation of that data and our passage. A commentary on the gospels will not walk through exegetical methods individually, which is a good thing for us at the stage in which we are trying to synthesize our interpretation. As scholars comment on each verse, they will likely offer textual, translational, historical, form, redactional, literary, and theological observations all mixed together. Reading this material allows us to walk through the pericope verse by verse from beginning to end, reflecting on how the data we have found in all the different steps comes together in a single reading of the passage. We compare our observations with those of the commentator, noticing something she missed there and something she noticed here that we missed there. Commentaries should expand our reading significantly because the scholars who produce them perform much more extensive research on the work than we are able to do in the exegesis of a single passage.

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This does not mean, however, that we must agree with everything commentaries assert. After all, the reason there are so many commentaries in the first place is that scholars disagree with each other about how to interpret biblical works. (This means we should read more than one commentary if possible at this stage of exegesis!) We must take commentaries seriously, question our observations when challenged, but then draw our own conclusions. After all, the purpose of exegesis is for us to propose an (i.e., our) interpretation, not for us simply to report on the interpretations of others. In addition to walking through the passage, a commentary will offer some interpretive overview of the passage. This can especially be helpful in our synthesis. Has the scholar named the primary subject matter, topic, or theme of the pericope in a way that accords with what we have observed? Has he seen the flow and emphasis of the text in the same way we have? Has he interpreted the characterization, figurative language, and experience of reading the passage in the same way we have? Does he raise the same ideological concerns about the text we have? If we are communicating our interpretation in an academic setting, we will likely need to consult scholarly articles as well as commentaries. Articles may offer a reading of our whole passage based on a certain methodology, only deal with some critical issue related to the pericope or part of it, or deal with our text in relation to issues involving a range of texts. The most common way to search for such articles is the ATLA Religion Database. Reading through them will highlight issues that we may not have been able to discover in our own exegesis and that commentaries may have glossed over. Having consulted commentaries (and articles) to test our data and give us some direction in which to head, we need to synthesize our findings on our own. No clear set or order of steps will work to do this every time we interpret a synoptic pericope. The data itself will likely suggest a path. Nevertheless, a few steps may be helpful.

166 Reading the Synoptic Gospels An important one is to look for ways the different methods coalesce around similar elements of the pericope. In other words, as we progress through the different layers of investigation, we ask what themes, vocabulary, issues, characters, structures, and the like repeatedly come into view as important for understanding the passage. For example, form, narrative, and reader-response criticism will often lead an exegete to identify the same moment in the passage as the climax even if the different methods highlight a variety of perspectives on that moment. Or imagine a term in a Lukan passage that we discover means something different than we thought when exploring the plain sense, only later to find out in redactional criticism that Luke added it to Mark’s version of the story. When different methods draw our attention to the same element of the text, we have discovered a clue that this element should play a role in any overarching expression of the meaning of the text. We have seen that passages in the Synoptic Gospels are multivalent. Put differently, all texts, especially narrative texts, make multiple claims on the reader. The exegete must determine which claim is central to the text. Often this central claim will be obvious, but not always. One thing we can do to confirm our impression of the most important claim the text makes is to consider the options in relation to the narrative flow of the passage. Most gospel pericopes function inductively, meaning that the most important claim of the passage comes at the climax of the scene or saying—at or near the end of the pericope. Another thing we should do is consider the theological nature of the pericope. The gospels are theological documents. As narratives, they do much more than simply convey theological propositions. We should be careful not to reduce the full meaning of a passage to such a proposition. (See below.) Nevertheless, we cannot develop a synthesized interpretation of a synoptic pericope without attending closely to its theological assertions. We use the plural “assertions” (as we did of “claims” above) because most synoptic pericopes involve more than one theological element. Consider a healing story. Because Jesus is

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the healer, the story has christological implications, shaping the reader’s understanding of Jesus as the Christ. (With Jesus as the main character in almost every passage in the Synoptic Gospels, every passage can be seen as having christological elements.) Because someone is healed (i.e., saved from some ailment), the story has soteriological implications, shaping the reader’s understanding of the salvation experienced through Jesus as the Christ. Added to these two emphases can be a range of other theological emphases, depending on how the standard miracle story form is altered, how the evangelist edits the story, in what literary context with overarching themes the story is embedded, and so on and so forth. Still, one theological arena, theme, or idea should usually be recognizable as the dominant one of the passage. It will be the one most emphasized at the end of the passage and one that has repeatedly suggested itself as potentially most important across the course of working through our variety of methods. Finally, then, we can name the central (theological) claim in a single, propositional statement. This advice may seem to move counter to our note just above that the meaning of a narrative text cannot be reduced to a proposition. Here we are more concerned with focusing the communication of our interpretation of the passage than naming the character of the text. In other words, instead of assuming that our sentence is synonymous with the central claim of the pericope, it serves as our thesis statement for how we will focus our explanation of that primary claim. When we develop this sentence, we should make sure that it is a simple declarative sentence. Too many commas, or (heaven forbid!) a semicolon, is a sign that we have not yet focused enough and that we are still trying to summarize our exegetical discoveries instead of synthesizing them into a proposal of the central meaning of the pericope. While it might seem that developing a single sentence focusing our interpretation would be the last step in exegesis, it is really the penultimate step. Communicating our proposed interpretation

168 Reading the Synoptic Gospels requires us to support our proposed understanding of the central claim using the data gathered throughout the exegetical process. In other words, we must present a logical presentation of the data to convince those with whom we are communicating of the plausibility and/or meaningfulness of our interpretation. The phrase “logical presentation” implies three things. First, the mode and content of presentation of the data will vary according to the context in which we are communicating and the audience with whom we are communicating. The expectations of a professor evaluating an academic paper will be quite different from the needs of a congregation who have gathered to hear a biblical sermon. Second, our presentation will not include all of the exegetical observations we have made. As with all forms of research, not everything we notice in exegesis is worth communicating. Some paths will be dead ends. Some paths may be helpful to our process but in the end not important for supporting our thesis. We share the data that helps the reader/hearer understand our interpretation and why we propose it. This is not license for omitting exegetical observations that challenge our proposal. Indeed, data that might lead exegetes to different conclusions must be dealt with, especially in academic communication. Third, our presentation of the pertinent data should be organized to support our thesis, not to reflect the exegetical process we have followed. Our job is not to communicate our experience of doing exegesis (as if we were offering a slide show of what we did on summer vacation) but to offer the reader or hearer the results of our work. Of course, we cannot just present our conclusions and expect those with whom we are communicating to simply trust us. It is the exegete’s job to offer the data fairly, logically, and engagingly so that the recipients of the communication are led to draw the same conclusion(s) the presenter has. Example: Matthew 12:46–50 As we return for the last time to the pericope that has served as our case study, we will not be able to illustrate all of the syn-

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thesizing steps in detail. But at least some exemplary comments on each step will be helpful.

Being Honest and Explicit about the Level of Meaning We Privilege For the sake of our case study, we will privilege the level of meaning found at the intersection of the author’s intent and Matthew’s original reader. This means that we are more concerned with the final form of the text rather than with earlier phases of its development, but that we will focus on its meaning as a first-century document. Thus redaction, narrative, and readerresponse criticism will stand at the center of our inquiry, and we will use the other methods to support, expand, and challenge our interpretation. Commentaries Earlier, when we needed an overview of Matthew’s structure to place our pericope in its proper literary context as part of our narrative reading, we turned to the introductory material in M. Eugene Boring’s commentary on Matthew (in The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol. 8, edited by Leander E. Keck; Nashville: Abingdon, 1995). The New Interpreter’s Bible is a commentary series that comments on the NRSV and NIV translations and represents a good midpoint between a popular writing with little detail and a highly technical work dealing with every detail of the Greek text. We return to this commentary now and will compare Boring’s observations with another. Boring’s comments on this passage are brief (pp. 297–98). He opens with a redaction/literary observation by placing this scene in juxtaposition to the immediately preceding passage in which Jesus compares “this evil generation” to an unclean spirit returning to the person from whom it goes forth: Despite the negative picture painted in the preceding denunciations of “this generation” that has rejected Jesus and his message, there are those who respond (cf. 11:25– 27). Matthew reinterprets the scene in Mark 3:31–35

170 Reading the Synoptic Gospels to portray the new community of disciples that emerges despite the failure of the mission to Israel.

This is a connection we have not explored in our exegesis and deserves our attention. After pointing out that Matthew has no biographical interest in Jesus’ family, Boring goes on to say, “Matthew’s only interest is in using Jesus’ family as symbols for the Christian community, which here replaces his natural family.” This confirms our emphasis on the metaphor of family earlier. Comparing Matthew’s version with Mark, Boring notes things we observed earlier when exploring redaction criticism—e.g., the fact that Matthew omits Mark’s reference to the family coming to see Jesus because they think he is deranged. But something Boring notes that we did not is that “Matthew retains the Markan picture of Jesus’ family standing ‘outside,’ which connotes religious distance…” This distance helps us see more clearly, by means of contrast, the intimacy implied between Jesus and his new family of disciples. Perhaps most important for us, Boring names explicitly his understanding of the central claim of the passage, supported by another redactional observation: Matthew’s point is that those who have accepted Jesus’ message, and thereby have been called to place the kingdom of God above even family loyalties, as he himself has done (8:21–22; 10:21–39; 19:29), have found a new family in the community of disciples—a term that Matthew specifically adds to his Markan source.

The overarching statement will be helpful when we are ready to shape our own one-sentence proposition. Boring notes another addition Matthew makes to Mark’s version—the reference to Jesus “stretching out his hand” over the disciples in verse 49. While establishing the text early in our process, we noticed that while in the NRSV and the NIV describe Jesus as “pointing” to his disciples, the NABRE uses the phrase, “stretching his hand toward.” At the time we were unsure

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whether this was just a stylistic difference in the translations, or indicated something about the Greek or the cultural significance that needed more exploring. The fact that Boring offers a different translation than his reference translations means he views this as an important issue. He says that the phrase indicates a “gesture that, when used of Jesus, signals his compassionate and direct response to those in need (8:3), his mighty act of deliverance to disciples in distress (14:31).” Because we are working with English instead of Greek, we missed Matthew’s parallel use of this phrase in these other two places. Commentaries are often helpful in such matters. Boring’s comment should lead us to reconsider whether to adopt the NABRE’s translation of verse 49. Finally, in a comment that accords with the emphasis we found on verse 49 in our form, narrative, and reader-response stages of exegesis, but expands what we have asserted thus far, Boring writes: The concluding pronouncement is doubly definitive: (1) Disciples are those persons who do the will of God. The essence of discipleship is not mere profession, right doctrine, or even charismatic phenomena, but doing the will of God (7:21–23). (2) Disciples are not only brothers and sisters of one another in the family of God, but also they are Jesus’ “brothers and sisters,” a relationship that is particularly important to Matthew as a designation of the members of the Christian community (cf. 23:8 [obscured there by the NRSV]; [sic] 25:40; 28:10).

We can compare Boring’s comments to those of Daniel J. Harrington’s The Gospel of Matthew, in the Sacra Pagina commentary series (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1991). For the sake of brevity, we will not attend to elements of Harrington’s work that overlap with Boring’s. On pages 190–93, Harrington comments on our sample pericope in conjunction with the preceding passage (Jesus’ metaphorical saying that compares “this evil generation” with an unclean spirit returning to the person from whom it goes forth). He joins the two texts (12:43–45) arguing, “Both concern Jesus’ alienation and separation—from ‘this genera-

172 Reading the Synoptic Gospels tion’ and from his earthly family.” While this statement does not contradict what Boring said, the emphasis is different. Whereas Harrington emphasizes a similarity between the two passages (separation from two different groups), Boring emphasizes differences between the two (rejection by “this evil generation” in the first and acceptance by the disciples in the second). Boring’s orientation better accords with our earlier conclusions that for Matthew the passage is really about the character of his disciples more than Jesus’ family, so Harrington’s joining of the passages is unpersuasive. This does not mean, however, that other observations by Harrington will not be helpful. For example, in the process of establishing our text, we noted that not all ancient manuscripts include verse 47. The NRSV (and other translations we compared) include the verse but highlight its questionable nature in a footnote. Boring did not comment on this issue at all, but in his technical notes on individual verses Harrington writes of the verse: Some important ancient manuscripts omit the entire verse. The best argument for its inclusion is verse 48, which demands something like verse 47; its omission could be explained by its similarity in wording to verse 46. An argument against its inclusion is Matthew’s tendency to omit whatever does not move the story along. But Matt 12:47 merely repeats what has already been said in 12:46.

Harrington does not take a strong stance on the textual variant but (1) confirms our earlier inclination to include the verse and (2) concludes, as did we, that neither including nor excluding the passage changes the meaning of the passage. Later Harrington expands our observations about the passage’s literary background significantly. We focused primarily on familial language and issues in the Hebrew Bible as providing a backdrop for how the language of family is to be understood metaphorically in Matthew’s use. Harrington asserts, instead, The biblical background for these texts [both passages in 12:43–50] is the theme of the people of God…. The

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basic shape of God’s relation to Israel remains the same throughout its history: It is the result of God’s gracious offer of election, is communal in nature, and takes the form of a covenant between God and Israel. But in post-exilic times there was a tendency to narrow down who in Israel really continues this special relationship with God. Only those who avoid marriages with non-Jews, or observe circumcision or Sabbath regulations, or belong to the right group count with respect to this special relationship. The destruction of the Jerusalem Temple and of Jerusalem in a.d. 70 made this relationship even more problematic, for the major unifying institution—the Temple—no longer existed. And so a major matter of debate in Jesus’ time was the identity of the people of God. It was an even more controversial issue in the time when Matthew wrote his Gospel. The message of Matt 12:43–50 to Matthew’s community as it tried to define itself vis-à-vis other Jewish groups after a.d. 70 would have [included] something like the following…. The true family of Jesus (=the Church as the people of God) is made up of those who do God’s will (Matt 12:46–50).

This socio-historical and literary observation about contention over who is included in the people of God adds to our understanding of the importance of our passage for Matthew’s community. It does not counter our examination of familial language, but provides a supplemental perspective for interpreting the pericope’s claim. Moreover, Harrington’s interpretation of the passage accords with that of Boring’s in asserting that doing the will of God, as opposed to other criteria, is the requirement for following Jesus, i.e., for membership in the church. Reading these two commentaries did two things for us. First, they added some exegetical details we were missing. Overall, however, we should notice that our exegesis is much more thorough and detailed than the scholars had room to share in their commentaries. Second, they confirmed the overall direction our exegesis had been carrying us. Had they not, we would need to revisit some of our earlier steps. The confirmation means we are ready to move on.

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Look for Ways the Different Methods Coalesce As we applied our different exegetical methods to Matthew 12:46–50, a number of items have shown up repeatedly. For the sake of an example, we will look at two prominent and related points where methods coalesced, but exegetes should consider others as well in a thoroughgoing interpretation. The first is, not surprisingly, language and issues related to family. In our first look at familial language with a Bible dictionary, we found that the church became a substitute for the family, and thus the importance of familial language (especially “brothers”) in speaking of the church in the New Testament. (This fact was confirmed as important for Matthew in the interpretation offered by both of the commentaries consulted.) As we explored the literary background, we discovered that loyalty to family (i.e., to the parents and especially the father) is highly valued, but at times family ties can and should be severed when loyalty to God comes into conflict with loyalty to family. In form criticism we noticed that every structural element of the pericope includes familial language, highlighting the family as thematically central to the passage. When we studied Matthew as a whole through the lens of redaction criticism, we confirmed that Matthew especially accords with what we had learned from the Bible dictionary—throughout Matthew “brothers” (adelphoi) is used for the church and the tension between the church and family ties is repeatedly highlighted. In literary criticism, we explored the figurative nature of familial language in Matthew as metaphors for the disciples, who are the main focus of the passage. When we imaginatively took on the role of implied reader, we found the reader identifying with the disciples throughout the Gospel and so identifying with them as Jesus’ new family in this scene. This identification leads to the existential question, “Are we doing God’s will?” Finally, ideological critique of the passage led us to pinpoint the patriarchal character of family structures in the ancient Mediterranean world and to see how the text paradoxically both presents the church as liberating members from those

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structures and supports patriarchy within the church as family with the use of “Father” for God. This last note calls to our attention the way our methods coalesced around the metaphor of Father for God. In addition to ideological criticism, we noticed the importance of fathers in ancient society early as we explored the socio-historical and literary backgrounds of the passage. In form and narrative criticisms, we noticed that God as Father appeared in the last line of the scene, i.e., at the climax. Redaction criticism showed us that Matthew substituted “Father” for Mark’s reference simply to “God,” which fits with the editorial pattern of Matthew using “Father” for God some sixty times in the Gospel, always on the lips of Jesus. In literary criticism, we explored the metaphorical nature of Father as a reference to God. What these interrelated instances of coalescence across the various methods show us is that any communication of our interpretation of Matthew 12:46–50 must focus on the disciples/ church as family of Jesus and family to each other, with God as the patriarch of the family.

Determining Which Claim Is Central to the Text Although this is not true of many synoptic pericopes, our short example text is thematically focused, and its structure is fairly simple. This means we do not have much in the way of competing claims. We should nonetheless still consider the narrative flow and theological nature of the passage to focus our attention at this point. In terms of the narrative flow of the passage, form, redaction, narrative, and reader-response criticisms have in different ways shown us that the emphasis in the scene is at the end. Even though Jesus is the main character through the passage and has the last word in the text, the disciples are its main focus (as seen even by Jesus’ gesture toward them). Jesus’ words about the disciples in this closing show that the theological nature of the pericope is ecclesiology (the nature of the church) as an ethical community (in the sense that ethics are concerned with behavior).

176 Reading the Synoptic Gospels Thus our study has led us to conclude that “what the text is about” is describing the character of the community of faith (i.e., the disciples within the narrative or Matthew’s church as the original readers) as that of an intimate group (through the use of familial metaphors), placing obedience to doing God’s will above all other loyalties.

Name the Central Claim in a Single, Propositional Statement Identifying the central claim in the broad manner we just did and stating that claim in a clear, declarative sentence are not the same thing. The former is usually easier than the latter. We noted earlier, however, that Boring names his take on the central claim of the passage in his comments. There is no need for us as interpreters to reinvent the wheel. His statement might serve as a starting point for ours. Boring writes: Matthew’s point is that those who have accepted Jesus’ message, and thereby have been called to place the kingdom of God above even family loyalties, as he himself has done… have found a new family in the community of disciples...

Our data does not contradict Boring’s conclusion, but it does lead to a different nuance. For example, Boring emphasized inclusion in the community as being based on “acceptance of Jesus’ message,” but we have focused on the doing of God’s will as the requirement for being included. His language may assume our conclusion, but it does not say exactly the same thing. For instance, while Boring’s is an ecclesiological statement, it does not specify an ethical requirement. Indeed, noting the difference between our understanding and Boring’s might lead us to name Matthew’s claim as an exhortation, prescribing the ethical nature of the church: For Matthew, the church, as an intimate community related to Jesus (seen in their following the example of Jesus), is to prioritize the task of doing God’s will above all other commitments.

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This claim can now serve as the thesis statement of our communication of our interpretation. However it is logically laid out, such communication must offer readers or hearers the exegetical data in such a way that they see the plausibility of our interpretive proposal. But it must also do something else: it must give content to the phrase, “God’s will.” By this we mean that the interpreter must explain what Matthew’s understanding of God’s will is (as opposed to our understanding of God’s will). We explored Matthew’s use of the language of “will” using a concordance in our redactional critical step, but the importance placed on the concept in our claim shows we have more work to do. Then we found a number of texts paralleling our example pericope in asserting the importance of doing God’s will over against claiming Jesus as Lord. We found Jesus teaching disciples to pray that God’s will be done, and we saw Jesus commit himself to doing God’s will over against his own desire. But the question left unanswered is: What kind of behavior does Matthew present as obeying God’s will? We are left to return to Matthew to search Jesus’ teaching and behavior to discern this. That’s the way it is with exegesis. The better we understand a passage, the more we have yet to learn about it and from it— i.e., the more the text requires from us to dig to the next level of meaning.