T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament 9780567667861, 9780567667878, 9780567667854

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T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament

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T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament EDITED BY J. Brian Tucker and Aaron Kuecker

T&T CLARK Bloomsbury Publishing Plc 50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP, UK 1385 Broadway, New York, NY 10018, USA BLOOMSBURY, T&T CLARK and the T&T Clark logo are trademarks of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc First published in Great Britain 2018 Copyright © J. Brian Tucker, Aaron Kuecker and Contributors, 2020 J. Brian Tucker and Aaron Kuecker have asserted their right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Editors of this work. Cover design: Tjaša Krivec Cover image: A Banquet from Catacombs of SS Marcellino and Pietro (© Pontificia Commissione di Archeologia Sacra) All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publishers. Bloomsbury Publishing Plc does not have any control over, or responsibility for, any third-party websites referred to or in this book. All internet addresses given in this book were correct at the time of going to press. The author and publisher regret any inconvenience caused if addresses have changed or sites have ceased to exist, but can accept no responsibility for any such changes. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress. ISBN: HB: 978-0-5676-6786-1 ePDF: 978-0-5676-6785-4 eBook: 978-0-5676-9331-0 Typeset by Deanta Global Publishing Services, Chennai, India To find out more about our authors and books visit www.bloomsbury.com and sign up for our newsletters.

To Ashley and Matt, Alexandria and John, Annaliese, and Abigail & To Gabe, Isabel, Josiah, and Adeline



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Contents

Editor’s Preface

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List of Abbreviations

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List of Contributors

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Introduction: How to Use the Book  J. Brian Tucker and Aaron Kuecker xiii   1 A Genealogy of Social Identity Theory  A. Sue Russell 1  2 Matthew Matthew J. Marohl 25  3 Mark Rafael Rodríguez 69  4 Luke Aaron Kuecker 103  5 John Warren Carter 169  6 Acts Aaron Kuecker 211  7 Romans Christopher Zoccali 257   8 1 Corinthians  J. Brian Tucker 293   9 2 Corinthians  Kar Yong Lim 327 10 Galatians Robert L. Brawley and Jae Won Lee 355 11 Ephesians Minna Shkul 377 12 Philippians Sergio Rosell Nebreda 393 13 Colossians A. Asano 407 14 1 Thessalonians  Matthew P. O’Reilly 421 15 2 Thessalonians  Matthew P. O’Reilly 435 16 1 Timothy  Christopher A. Porter 445 17 2 Timothy  Christopher A. Porter 461 18 Titus Christopher A. Porter 469 19 Philemon Ryan Heinsch 475

Contents

20 Hebrews Matthew J. Marohl 487 21 James K. Jason Coker 515 22 1 Peter  Laura J. Hunt 527 23 2 Peter  R. Alan Streett 543 24 1 John  Rikard Roitto 555 25 2 John  Rikard Roitto 567 26 3 John  Rikard Roitto 571 27 Jude R. Alan Streett 575 28 Revelation Paul Middleton 585

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Editor’s Preface

A volume of this size and scope calls for the dedicated work of many people. We are grateful for the work of each of the contributors to this volume. Their varied interests and areas of expertise show the expanding web of influence that identity-based approaches to the NT have generated. The diversity of approaches demonstrates the potential that arises from approaching the biblical text with new and important questions. We are thankful for the collaborative spirit of the group. We are also keenly aware that academic work always stands on the shoulders of those who have gone before, and in the case of this volume particular debts of gratitude are owed to Philip Esler, who was an early pioneer in the intersection of social identity theory and biblical studies, and to William S. Campbell, whose foundational work on ethnicity in the NT has been impactful for these approaches. Significant, too, has been the Writing Social-Scientific Commentaries of the New Testament Seminar at the Society of Biblical Literature. Special thanks go to Petri Luomanen for his co-convening of that group, as well as to Kathy Ehrensperger and Elizabeth Shively for their contributions as steering committee members. This project anticipates the forthcoming T&T Clark Social Identity Commentaries on the New Testament series. We are grateful for the partnership with Kathy Ehrensperger, Philip Esler, and Petri Luomanen in bringing the early volumes in that series to fruition. The editors would like to thank Dominic Mattos and Sarah Blake at T&T Clark/Bloomsbury for their vision for this project and the forthcoming commentary series. Their careful and erudite work has been invaluable. The ongoing conversations with colleagues over the course of this work are a reminder that the best scholarship always emerges from lively community dialogue. We are thankful for colleagues whose formal and informal conversation has sharpened the work. Finally, we owe tremendous debts of gratitude to our families for consistent encouragement and support as we have brought this work to completion. J. Brian Tucker Aaron Kuecker June 2019

Abbreviations

Abbreviations follow the rules recommended by the Society of Biblical Literature, according to Billie Jean Collins, Bob Buller, and John F. Kusko (eds.), The SBL Handbook of Style for Biblical Studies and Related Disciplines (2nd ed. Atlanta: SBL, 2014). These rules include standard abbreviations for biblical books, early Jewish and Christian literature, and classical literature. The abbreviation standards found in the SBL Handbook for secondary sources such as journals, series, and standard reference works are also followed throughout this book. The following abbreviations are not mentioned in The SBL Handbook of Style. CCRP

Command and Control Research Program

CD

The Damascus Document from the Cairo Genizah

EJSP

European Journal of Social Psychology

GGBB

Wallace, Daniel B. Greek Grammar beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996

LES

Penner, Ken M., Rick Brannan, Israel Loken, Michael Aubrey, and Isaiah Hoogendyk, eds. The Lexham English Septuagint. Bellingham, WA: Lexham, 2012

PSPR

Personality and Social Psychology Review

SAGA

Structured Analysis of Group Arguments

SGR

Small Group Research

SCT

Self-Categorization Theory

SIA

Social Identity Approach(es)

SICNT

Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament

SIT

Social Identity Theory

SPQ

Social Psychology Quarterly

Contributors

A. Asano Professor of New Testament Studies Kwansei Gakuin University Kobe, Japan Robert L. Brawley Albert G. McGraw Professor of New Testament Emeritus McCormick Theological Seminary Chicago, Illinois Warren Carter LaDonna Kramer Meinders Professor of New Testament Phillips Theological Seminary Tulsa, Oklahoma K. Jason Coker National Director Together for Hope Clinton, Mississippi Ryan Heinsch Adjunct Professor Moody Theological Seminary Plymouth, Michigan Laura J. Hunt Adjunct Faculty Ashland Theological Seminary Southfield, Michigan Aaron Kuecker Provost and Professor of New Testament Trinity Christian College Palos Heights, Illinois

Jae Won Lee Independent Scholar Chicago, Illinois Kar Yong Lim Lecturer in New Testament Studies Seminari Theoloji Malaysia Seremban, Malaysia Matthew J. Marohl College Pastor St. Olaf College Northfield, Minnesota Paul Middleton Professor of New Testament and Early Christianity University of Chester Chester, England Matthew P. O’Reilly Lead Pastor Hope Hull United Methodist Church Hope Hull, Alabama Rafael Rodríguez Professor of New Testament Johnson University Knoxville, Tennessee Rikard Roitto University Lecturer Docent in New Testament Studies Stockholm School of Theology Stockholm, Sweden

Contributors

Sergio Rosell Nebreda Professor of New Testament Saint Louis University Madrid, Spain

R. Alan Streett Senior Research Professor of Biblical Theology Criswell College Dallas, Texas

Christopher A. Porter Tutor Ridley College Melbourne, Australia

J. Brian Tucker Professor of New Testament Moody Theological Seminary Plymouth, Michigan

A. Sue Russell Professor of Mission and Contextual Studies Asbury Theological Seminary Wilmore, Kentucky

Christopher Zoccali Visiting Assistant Professor of New Testament Northeastern Seminary Rochester, New York

Minna Shkul University Teacher in Religion, Gender, and Society University of Sheffield Sheffield, England

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Introduction: How to Use the Book J. Brian Tucker and Aaron Kuecker

A commentary such as this should be read with an open copy of the Bible nearby. It is not a substitute for reading the text but guides the reader through the biblical material using the lens of social identity theory. The New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) serves as the base text, so readers may find it helpful to have that version accessible. Commentators, however, may draw from other English versions of the Bible or offer their own translations, in which case the reader will find parenthetical material alerting them to the use of alternative or personal translations. The commentators often abbreviate biblical, extra-canonical, classical, and patristic references and cross-references. These follow the standard conventions among contemporary biblical scholars; however, if the reader is unfamiliar with them then The SBL Handbook of Style, 2nd edition, should be consulted (see further the Abbreviations page in this introductory section). In order to include as much information as possible, commentators often use cf. as a way to indicate that the reader would benefit from comparing the material in the reference. For example, (cf. Rom 1:16–17) would indicate the author wishes the reader to read those verses for further support. In addition, the reader may wish to compare what this commentary says about the verses highlighted. While the NRSV functions as the base text for discussions, the commentators often make reference to the Greek and sometimes to the Hebrew. In order to highlight this material in an accessible manner, we use the standard transliteration scheme detailed in chapter 5 of The SBL Handbook of Style, 2nd edition. Often, these words function as the key point of interpretation for the identity-critical readings offered in this commentary. These references, however, have been kept to a minimum and should not hinder the reader from being able to follow the comments offered more broadly. This is not a traditional verse-by-verse one-volume commentary. It comments primarily on issues that intersect the biblical material and social identity concerns. Thus, some blocks of text are highlighted quickly while others are commented on extensively, as appropriate to the constraints of the project. To this end, commentators have developed an identity-critical outline of the text that serves as the top-level heading for their commentary. For example, Norms for a Markan Community (9:14–10:52) serves as the heading for this section of the Mark commentary. This orients the reader to the larger discourse unit being discussed; however, often there are second-level subheadings that allow the reader to focus in on the smaller units of the text, or even individual verses. The commentary highlights these smaller units two ways. First, the chapter and verse(s) alone may be noted, for example, (1:16–17), or alternatively the chapter and verse with a short orienting phrase, for example, (3:5–17) Ingroup Narratives and Leadership Deviance. These signposts are developed within a larger debate concerning differing opinions as to the proper locus for comment, that is, the verse level or the paragraph (or above)

Introduction: How to Use the Book

level. The editors have given freedom in this regard and thus the reader will see both discursive practices in this commentary. Versifications follow two scholarly standards: verse (v.) and verses (vv.) with the appropriate reference following or the chapter and verse (3:20) format. The reader will find both in the commentary. This one-volume commentary offers a sustained social-scientific reading of the New Testament (NT) through the lens of SIT. If the reader is unfamiliar with this family of theoretical approaches, then the “Genealogy of Social Identity Theory” should be read before launching into these readings. For those looking for further engagement with the hermeneutical issues associated with these commentaries, we strongly suggest the T&T Clark Handbook to Social Identity and the New Testament, edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. Several of the commentators in this volume also contributed to the Handbook and the reader may find further substantiation there for some of the claims made in these commentaries. Each commentary provides a reference section at the end that allows the reader to do further research into the way an identity-analytic may provide new insights into the biblical material. The writers of the T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament offer interdisciplinary readings of the NT. The editors then have allowed for various levels of integration of these social theories in their individual contributions. This extends even to the use of diverse terminology and standard notations. For example, generally the reader will see “ingroup” and “outgroup,” but do not be surprised to also see “in-group” and “out-group” along with other standard terms used in social psychology. This is simply the nature of an interdisciplinary project such as this, and masks deeper debates concerning which academic subfield should control the interpretive framework. Further, there are significant differences among the commentators in regards to the nature of the Christ-movement in the first century, and these differences produce diverse labeling conventions (e.g., Gentile or gentile; Jew or Judean). As the editors, we have also chosen to allow the writers to reflect accurately their presuppositions in regards to the nature of the terminology that is to be preferred. We have not attempted to mask the diverse presuppositions concerning the writers’ approach to social history or theology. A sustained focus on the text’s concern with social identity is what unites the contributions. The introductory material generally follows aspects of what might be expected in the onevolume genre; however, we have not attempted to be overly formulaic in this regard. The commentators were asked to highlight only aspects of the introductory material needed to clarify the nature of the text from a social identity perspective. What is consistent throughout is a section dealing with their chosen social identity approach (though one will also find this material integrated into the commentary itself). The authors all assume that the reader has a general awareness of the theory, at least as it is presented in the “Genealogy of Social Identity Theory” in this volume. The “Social Identity Approach” section should be read before launching into a specific commentary. This section will often highlight specific concerns that will drive the interpretations that follow. Often, these are advancements on the basics of the theory, though some commentaries rely primarily on the general insights in regard to ingroup and outgroup dynamics for their readings. Just as with any other academic discipline, there are differences among the commentators into the nature of the identity formation that is occurring in these texts. Thus, one should not be surprised to find diverse opinions on the appropriate applications of SIT—these differences are totally appropriate and highlight the diverse ways this meta-theory

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Introduction: How to Use the Book

might be applied and understood. The editors have given significant freedom to the writers in their research-based applications of Tajfel and Turner’s work. The NT is a rich resource for reflection on the construction of social identity. We offer these commentaries as an invitation to reflect on the nature of the identity/identities these texts sought to construe and the potential they offer in regard to contemporary identity-based concerns that ecclesial communities continue to have as they orient their identities around the orbit of these texts.

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Chapter  1

A Genealogy of Social Identity Theory A. Sue Russell

Introduction Social identity theory (henceforth SIT) has become one of the most prominent theories to explain intergroup interaction and social identity within the field of social psychology. It has been used to understand conflict, promote change and peace, promote healthy intergroup relationships and, in the commentaries in this volume, to bring new insights to the biblical text. However, theories are not developed in an intellectual vacuum but build upon the work of others, being influenced both by the personal experiences of the researcher and by the political and social environments in which they are created. New theories often arise because of the failure of other theories to answer questions that are relevant to the researcher and society as a whole. Understanding the intellectual, social, and historical context of a theory helps us understand the concepts on which it was developed, questions it was designed to answer, and new areas of inquiry. Furthermore, understanding what questions it answers can also lead us to discover questions that have been left unanswered. This opens up possibilities for new directions and insights that can be gained from building upon a theory. The purpose of this chapter is to provide a brief genealogy of SIT and the advances it made within the field of social psychology. This genealogy is neither linear nor ahistorical, but rather it highlights the intellectual and social environment in which the theory was born and the antecedents that were either rejected or built upon in the development of SIT. As in any good genealogy, there are stories and circumstances that directed the inclusion of one theory over another, twists and turns that finally led to the birth of SIT. I first discuss the history of social psychology and its development as a modern academic discipline in North America, as well as changes that laid the foundation for the development of SIT. I then discuss the history of the development of this theory in Henri Tajfel’s research. I conclude by briefly outlining the basic components of this theory and their current use in the study of intergroup relations.

Roots of Social Identity Theory The roots of social identity are firmly embedded in the development of the field of social psychology. As a field, social psychology seeks to understand the relationship of an individual’s mind and behavior in a social group. Social psychology’s own history ebbs and flows in its

T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament

emphasis on the individual or the collective as the center of study, and as such its developments are highly influenced by the prevailing Zeitgeist of the day. The purpose of this section is to provide a brief overview of the main theoretical perspectives and ideas that influenced the development of social psychology as a discipline. It will focus on the ideas that shaped Tajfel’s development of SIT as well as the unanswered questions that this theory sought to address. This section will trace the beginnings of SIT by first looking at the development of the study of social aspects of being human. Then it will discuss the development of social psychology as a discipline. And finally, it will discuss how the Second World War brought changes to the discipline that laid the foundation for Tajfel’s creation of SIT.

The Study of the Social The foundation of social psychology can be traced to the study of social aspects of humans during the Enlightenment. There was optimism in human progress, and the shift from religious to scientific authority led to greater study of the human condition as part their social world. Democratization and Darwinistic thought on human progress led to studies that sought to understand human action in a social context. During the eighteenth century, there were several types of studies that anticipated research that would later fall under the category of social psychology. For instance, researchers in Scotland sought to understand interpersonal relationships and national stereotypes. In Germany, France, and Britain, theories were developed to understand the relationship between the mind and society (Jahoda, 3). These studies were numerous and created in Europe the intellectual milieu in which social psychology was birthed. Although there were numerous studies that provide important antecedents for social psychology, I limit my discussion to those that most directly influenced the development of social psychology. Before the Enlightenment, the individual was viewed as a constituent of some social group and was viewed in relationship to that group (Gergen, 137). Some trace the beginning of social psychology to Gustave Le Bon’s 1896 work, The Crowd, which provided a rich description and classification of crowds and the effects that they had on the individual. He proposed that the power of the masses was akin to a hypnotist with crowds highly susceptible to suggestion and influence. Le Bon emphasized the stark contrast between behavior of an individual when alone and their behavior when in a crowd. He concluded that the two phenomena, the individual and the crowd, had to be studied as two distinct entities (Farr, 45). The emphasis of one or the other of these two entities in social psychology would ebb and flow throughout the development of the field. Another person who had a profound influence on the direction of social psychology was Wilhelm Wundt (1832–1920). His ten-volume work Volkerpsycholgie (folk or social psychology) is credited with distinguishing social psychology as a distinct branch of psychology. Wundt’s research focused upon language, religion, myth, custom, and magic, which are now what modern social scientists consider the province of other disciplines, such as linguistics, anthropology, and sociology. Like Le Bon, Wundt considered the community the starting point in social psychology, rather than the individual, for it was communities of individuals that created language, art, etc. (Farr, 25, 26). For Wundt, social psychology was the field that studies the community. Since his work was not

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translated into English, it did not impact the direction that American social psychology would take in the future although his work influenced several prominent scholars in other disciplines, including Franz Boas in the American anthropological tradition, Bronisław Malinowski in British social anthropology, and Èmile Durkheim in sociology (Farr, 32). One student whom Wundt influenced was G. H. Mead. Mead’s contribution to social psychology was the study of the relationship of the individual mind in relationship to society (Farr, 54). According to Robert Farr, Mead demonstrated the dialectical nature of the relationship between self and society. Mead did not view the individual and society as two separate entities, but he viewed individualization as the outcome of socialization and not its antithesis (Farr, 45). Mead proposed that consciousness of self was a social construct wherein the self both interacts with others and is formed in relation to others. Farr notes that for Mead, “Consciousness is thus an inherently social process” (Farr, 67). In Mead’s view, the individual cannot be understood apart from the social relationships in which they are embedded, and he proposed that the basic unit to study this relationship was the communicative act. Later researchers coined the phrase “symbolic interactionism” to describe his theory. Today the theory is more closely associated with sociology, but according to Farr, symbolic interactionism reflected the social side of social psychology (Farr, 126).

Birth of a Discipline The early twentieth century marked several turning points in the development of the discipline of social psychology. First, the locus of work in social psychology shifted to North America as a result of the First World War in Europe. The second was that research began to shift from groups themselves to individual behavior in the presence of groups. And third, social psychology was established as an experimental discipline. While much of the early work was focused on individual behavior in the presence of others or a social group, what emerged from the North American context was social psychology theory focused on the individual and his or her behavior. American psychologist Norman Triplett is credited with the first empirical social psychological study, which laid the foundation for how social psychology studied the social aspects of individual behavior (Kruglanski and Stroebe, 4). His study in 1898 sought to find out how an individual’s behavior changed in the presence of other people. In his experiment, Triplett had boys and girls pull in fishing line with a reel as fast as possible. He discovered that when they were in the presence of others, they pulled in the line faster than when they were alone (Triplett “Dynamgenic Factors”). Although many would claim that Triplett did not view himself as a social psychologist, his study focusing on behavior of individuals in the presence of a group is considered the antecedent to the types of research in the development of social psychology. Most historians agree that Floyd Allport was the most influential person in shaping the trajectory of the discipline of social psychology, particularly in the United States (Farr, 106). The publication of Allport’s textbook Social Psychology in 1924 had multiple effects on the research agenda and development of social psychology in the United States until the end of the Second World War. The first impact of the text was its focus of the individual as the locus of social behavior. Until this time, the group or crowd was sui generis, and individual actors could only be understood in

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terms of the overall social patterns of which they were a part (Gergen, 138). However, starting with Allport, the American a priori assumption was that the individual was endowed with fundamental psychological processes; therefore the study of social behavior consisted of examining the changes in these processes in the context of others (Gergen, 138). For Allport, the study of social psychology was the study of the psychology of an individual in relationship to social stimuli— other people. Group behavior was essentially individual behavior in the context of other people. “I believe that only within the individual can we find behavior mechanism and consciousness which are fundamental in the interactions between individuals” (Allport, 4). There was no psychology of groups that was not essentially and entirely a psychology of individuals. The second impact Allport had on American social psychology was that it was behaviorist. Research focused on discovering changes in individual behavior in different social contexts rather than the psychological processes influencing that behavior. According to Allport’s reasoning, ultimate reality was expressed in behavior and only individuals behave, thus reinforcing an individualist perspective (Farr, 108). Allport did analyze institutions in society such as the family, the church, politics, and economics, but only in terms of how the actions of individuals were influenced by these institutions (Farr, 108). For Allport, it was the behavior of individuals, not a crowd or group mind, that resulted in social action. The third direction that Allport set for American social psychology was that behavior was studied experimentally. His experiments sought to discover causal linkages between environmental stimuli and the resulting behavior. He limited his experiments to those that could be conducted in a laboratory setting in which individuals were exposed to various social stimuli. This also served to reinforce the perception that social behavior processes were individual processes that changed in response to, or were evoked by, social stimuli (Kruglanski and Stroebe, 4). The emphasis on the individual in American social psychology reflects the social and political contextual environment in which Allport conducted research. Reacting against the “group mind,” the study of the individual promoted the ideals of democracy in which individuals were independent moral agents and responsible for their own actions. Specifically, individuals affected by social stimuli were still autonomous moral agents (Farr, 109). For Allport, the world became better when individuals became better and more independent (Farr, 109). Allport laid both the theoretical and the analytical foundations for the expansion of social psychology in the years leading up to the Second World War.

Laying the Foundation for Social Identity Theory Social psychology grew in prominence in the United States during the Second World War when social psychologists and sociologists were able to apply their disciplines in real-world situations. They were conscripted to apply their studies to the war effort, including selection of officers, wartime morale, and the use of propaganda to influence behavior. These efforts brought a new perspective on how social and psychological studies could influence human behavior as social psychological theory was applied to social problems in order to create changes in behavior (Kruglanski and Stroebe, 3). The Second World War and the conditions that followed also had a major impact on the development and direction of social psychology well into the 1970s in two ways. First, it brought 4

A Genealogy of Social Identity Theory

a number of prominent scholars in social psychology from Europe to the United States. The rise of Nazism and anti-Semitic action in Germany and other countries led many academics to escape persecution. They brought perspectives from European research into an intellectual conversation that had been dominated by individualism and behaviorism in the United States (Turner and Giles, 10). Kurt Lewin was one of the prominent social psychologists who immigrated to the United States during this time of global strife. Lewin’s approach to social psychology established it as a cognitive science by seeking to understand the mental processes of social behavior within groups (Gergen, 142). The “Gestalt group,” as Lewin and his students were called, reacted to the behaviorism of American social psychology and brought a cognitive emphasis into social psychology (Farr, 8). Gestalt psychology’s focus was not on the observer or what the observer saw in the behavior of the actor. Instead, it sought to understand a person’s behavior based on what the person perceived. These theorists studied how behavior changed in the environment as the person perceives it, highlighting “what is believed to be” rather than “what is.” Along with a shift toward cognitive studies, Lewin also brought a shift toward locating the individual within the “psychological life-space,” which included the group or perceived group. Therefore the group, either real or perceived, was part of the social and psychological forces that acted upon the individual (Turner and Giles, 10). Through Gestalt psychology, group dynamics again became a central area of social psychological enquiry in the 1940s and 1950s (Turner and Giles, 10). Lewin and his students became leading researchers in the field of social psychology, contributing to the discussion of group dynamics, communication in groups, intergroup relationships, and group productivity (Gergen, 143). Several of Lewin’s students developed concepts and theories that would later be incorporated into SIT. One of Lewin’s most influential students was Leon Festinger, who worked on communication in small groups and social comparison processes but is best known for the theories that emerged from his study of the effects of the group on individual behavior. The first is the social comparison theory, which hypothesizes that people have an innate drive to evaluate their own opinions and attitudes and will seek groups close to them to compare themselves to (Taylor and Moghaddam, 81). He proposed that the underlying motivation for the individual to join a group was to reduce the uncertainty and achieve accuracy in self-evaluation when an objective means was not available (Taylor and Moghaddam, 81). The most well-known of Festinger’s theories is the theory of cognitive dissonance (Festinger, Theory). This theory suggests that people try to avoid discrepancies between their attitudes and their actions. In order to reduce cognitive dissonance, people will change either their attitudes or their behavior. The theory was based on two assumptions. First, the existence of a dissonance is psychologically uncomfortable, and people try to reduce this dissonance. Second, when dissonance exists, in addition to reducing the dissonance, people actively seek to avoid situations that cause further dissonance. His theories went on to be used in social psychology throughout the 1960s and 1970s. Another influential European researcher working in the United States was Fritz Hieder. Although he wrote far less than other leaders in the field and had fewer graduate students, his work developed two different theoretical streams in social psychology. His first, which was a forerunner to cognitive dissonance theory, is balance theory, in which he proposes that an inconsistency between attitudes and beliefs creates a tension in a person’s cognitive system and 5

T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament

a tendency toward establishing consistency. The second was his attribution theory, which sought to understand how individuals manage or infer causes of their own or others’ behavior, such as achievement motivation and emotion (Kruglanski and Stroebe, 6). This theory is still used in the study of intergroup relationships. The second major effect of the Second World War was the Holocaust and the extermination of six million Jews. The aftermath of the Holocaust created an urgency to understand the causation of prejudice and violence against people and how it could be prevented. Questions of how ordinary people so readily embraced, or at least silently accepted, anti-Semitic propaganda that lead to violence and genocide became the focus of research in social psychology following the war. Additionally, in 1954 the US Supreme Court desegregated education. Social psychology influenced this decision and led to research into prejudice and racial discrimination. Researchers sought to explain why and how prejudice developed, what causes group conflict, and how interracial tensions can be reduced. Specifically how did extreme stereotyping and prejudice develop? These questions were answered in several ways. One hypothesis to explain extreme prejudice was classifying it as abnormal behavior or a pathological personality (Davido, Newheiser, and Leyens, 411). The most well-known study in this line of inquiry was the 1950 Theodor Adorno et al. study “The Authoritative Personality.” Adorno sought to answer what made people so susceptible to such extreme prejudice. His approach was to find personality differences between prejudiced and non-prejudiced people and discover the type of personality that was susceptible to ethnocentrism. Through a series of experiments and observations, Adorno and his colleagues observed that there was a combination of circumstances and personality traits in which someone developed into a person with extreme prejudice. In their research they discovered that people raised by authoritarian parents who inflicted harsh punishment tended to develop extreme prejudice. Their conclusion was that persons who had strong authority requiring strict obedience tended to displace their unacceptable feelings toward these authority figures onto a vulnerable out-group. However, Adorno and his colleagues later found that prejudice varied from situation to situation. They turned their attention from finding the causes of prejudice toward an out-group to discovering what made one person more ethnocentric than another. For this they developed a scale that measured what type of person was more susceptible to propaganda that emphasized strong leadership and a single national identity as a way of enhancing national prestige. Those who scored high on the scale were less apt to be sympathetic to vulnerable out-groups. Although the measurement was abandoned in further studies, it changed the way prejudice was evaluated within social psychology: from an abnormal or pathological behavior to something that any person could experience (Davido, Newheiser, and Leyens, 411). Other scholars sought to discover how a social group influenced an individual’s behavior in making decisions about right and wrong. In 1953 Solomon Asch carried out several experiments to determine the effects of group pressure on an individual’s judgment. His study showed that individuals could be motivated to say something that they knew was untrue and contradicted physical reality (Hilton, 71). His experiment involved groups of seven to nine participants in which only one was a naïve participant while the others were part of the experiment. The group was asked to pick a line that matched a standard. Asch discovered that most participants made judgments that matched the groups, even when it was wrong. Asch reflected on this response and concluded that the participants wanted to make sense of the situation through 6

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a shared reality or shared truth with the group. He also found that he could predict more independent thought if just one person in the experimental group dissented from the majority opinion (Higgens, 209). Although the majority of research during this period still focused on how the individual was affected by different social circumstances, Muzafer Sherif studied the relationship between groups. Sherif proposed an interdependence theory of intergroup conflicts called realistic conflict theory. His theory proposes that competition between groups for scarce resources leads to perceptual biases and attitudes against the out-group (Tylor and Moghaddam, 36). Realistic conflict theory was based on three assumptions. First, people are selfish and try and maximize their rewards. Second, conflict is the result of incompatible or competing interests between groups. And third, the social psychological aspects of intergroup behavior are determined by the compatibility or incompatibility of group interests (Tylor and Moghaddam, 35). Sherif concluded that attitudes people have toward other groups are the result, not the cause, of intergroup conflict over competing interests. Sherif demonstrated this in his Robber’s Cave experiment. Boys at the camp were divided into groups and given tasks that required cooperation within the group. However, competition ensued as soon as the boys became aware of other groups. He then gave the groups superordinate objectives that required cooperation between the groups to accomplish a task. He found that this led to more harmonious relationships between groups. The significance of Sherif’s research was that it focused on group interaction and intergroup processes rather than how a social group affects individual behavior. He demonstrated that social conflict and prejudice were not a matter of deviant personality traits but rather hostility toward out-groups from intergroup competition. Thus, prejudice was developed from an individual’s membership in a social group and intergroup relations (Turner and Giles, 11). Although Tajfel would later find Sherif’s study an important contribution to his own work, the American stream of social psychology largely ignored Sherif’s perspective, and the individual reigned supreme for group studies. Research in the 1950s tended to remain on the individual as the locus of prejudice. Experiments focused on dyads and interpersonal relationships as the foundation of intergroup relations (Turner and Giles, 13). By the late 1960s and early 1970, a crisis in confidence arose as to whether social psychology actually studied the social aspects of individuals. Research and theorizing had turned away from larger social systems and instead focused its attention on the cognitive processes of the individual in social situations. This crisis was expressed by Steiner in a 1974 article entitled “What Happened to the Group in Social Psychology?” The theories that later made up SIT were born in this crisis although not in the United States but in Europe, where a unique form of social psychology would arise.

European Social Psychology—The Context for Social Identity Theory The study of intergroup relations had a rich intellectual tradition in Europe, with enquiry investigating the way culture affects behavior and the understanding of cultural difference. 7

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According to Jahoda, from antiquity through the Middle Ages peoples in Europe classified in-group members as human and the out-group as “other.” Davido, Newheiser, and Leyens (415) note that the distinction between “we” and “they” was prominent in philosophy, anthropology, sociology, psychology, and politics in European intellectual history. SIT was the product of the postwar European context. The Second World War and the Holocaust decimated the intellectual and academic life in Europe. During the postwar reconstruction period, a number of centers of social psychology were established in Europe although they were disconnected and were essentially outposts from American social psychology (Hogg and Abrams, “Social,” 7). According to Hogg and Abrams, European social psychologists sought to gain independence from the American legacy of individualism and create a uniquely European social psychology (Hogg and Abrams, “Social,” 7). They held a series of meetings in 1963 that culminated in the establishment of European Association of Experimental Psychology and the establishment of the European Journal of Social Psychology (Hogg and Abrams, “Social,” 7). The unique focus of European social psychology was its metatheoretical orientation in opposition to the individualism of American social psychology. European social psychologists shared a common understanding that the wider social context was meaningful to social issues (Hogg and Abrams, “Social,” 8). Researchers studied issues such as in-group favoritism and bias, minority influences on group behavior, religious orthodoxy, and power and leadership. European social psychologists started with the study of groups and culture, not the individual. They believed that individual behavior was shaped by the context and that the individual shaped the context. Social psychology emerged in Europe with an emphasis on the relationship between human psychological processes, social context, and events that shaped them (Hogg and Abrams, “Social,” 8). Importantly, Tajfel’s own research was part of this vibrant discussion on intergroup relations that was emerging in Europe in the 1950s and 1960s. Davido, Newheiser, and Leyens note, “Thus Tajfel conducted his original studies on categories and accentuation (e.g., Tajfel and Wilkes, 1963) during a very vibrant and generative period in European social psychology that began in the 1960s” (Davido, Newheiser, and Leyens, 415). Tajfel’s personal background also influenced his research interests and direction. He was born into a Jewish family on June 22, 1919, in Wloclawek, Poland. When Tajfel was eighteen, he left Poland to attend secondary school in France, because few Jews were admitted to the University in Poland at that time (Turner, 2). While in France, the Second World War erupted, prompting him to join the French Army in 1939. A year later he was taken prisoner by the German army and spent the rest of the war in various German prisoner-of-war camps. He credits being categorized as a French soldier rather than a Polish Jew for saving his life. When he returned to Paris, Tajfel discovered that many members of the Polish Jewish community, including his family, had been killed (Turner, 3). He experienced firsthand how categorization as part of one group versus another—French versus Jewish—determined his fate. He discovered that neither his personal qualities nor his relationship with the guards were important determinants in their response to him, rather it was his group category (Turner, 3). Turner observes that these experiences contributed to the questions and theories that Tajfel later developed in his career. Turner states, “However, for those who knew Henri, it was always clear that, much more than for most, his social psychology, the problems he studied, the theories he proposed and the approaches he saw

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as necessary and significant, remained closely bound up with the tragedies and experience of his earlier life” (Turner, 3).

Development of Social Identity Theory SIT encompasses several theories and concepts that provide a framework for understanding intergroup relationships. According to Turner, there were three periods in the development of SIT and its various concepts and theories. These were developed based on four underlying assumptions about social psychology and approaches to intergroup relations that undergirded Tajfel and his associates’ theorizing. I first discuss these assumptions and then the stages of development of SIT.

Assumptions Underlying Social Identity Theory The first underlying assumption of SIT was Tajfel’s view that social psychology should engage in cumulative-theory-driven research. He believed that theories and experiments exploring one area could interact with and build upon new insights and ideas that derived from the “whole human experience.” Theorizing was to be an ongoing process, and he rejected isolated, piecemeal empiricism (Turner, 9). The second assumption or building block was that Tajfel brought the social back into social psychology. While American social psychology studied the social effects on individual behavior, Tajfel emphasized that social psychology was the study of the social aspects of human behavior and concerned himself with “collective regularities” rather than an aggregation of individual behavior (Turner, 10). He rejected reducing intergroup relationships to individual psychological processes and individualism. Tajfel’s studies were related to group norms, group behavior, and intergroup relationships. The third assumption was that Tajfel’s understanding of individuals included their agency, and he studied them from a cognitive perspective. He started with the assumption that people actively seek to understand and find meaning in their situation and behave accordingly (Turner, 9). He did not dismiss the individual from social identity but rather understood that personal identity and social identity were on a continuum. Rather than reducing behavior to the individual, his theorizing sought to understand the dialectical relationship between the individual and the group. Finally, Tajfel placed the group into its broader social structure. For instance, he noted that some groupings were made by social structure, such as class, ethnicity, and gender. He tried to create a theory that placed intergroup relationships and group membership into its macro-social context, but also recognized the autonomy of the group (Turner, 9). In his work, social structure is the context for intergroup relations. All four of these basic assumptions are found throughout his research, and each had an influence in the developments of what would later become social identity theory. In the development of his theories, a cumulative and progressive theorizing is evident along with an attempt to account for

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tension between the individual and the group, the group and wider social structures, and agency and structure. Turner has suggested three periods in the development of SIT.

Stages in Development in Social Identity Theory The first stage in Tajfel’s work was an analysis of stereotyping that tied directly to prejudice, group membership, and intergroup relations (Turner, 11). Tajfel’s work in the 1960s focused on problems related to prejudice, ethnocentrism, and group identity. He discovered that children at a very young age already expressed their preference for their own nationality over people who were considered foreigners (Turner, 11). He also found that the in-group devalued people who were in groups of low social status to a greater extent than high-status groups (Turner, 11). During this time he also studied how differences between groups were accentuated. For instance, interclass differences were enhanced when one class was valued more positively than another. Not only did this turn prejudice into a group phenomenon but also into a cognitive one, based on what people believed or perceived about groups. Turner states: “Thus the perception of people in terms of their social group membership leads to a tendency to exaggerate the perceived similarities within groups and the perceived differences between groups” (Turner, 13). The second phase was his work on social identity and minimal group theory in intergroup relations. Building upon the work of Sherif’s realistic conflict theory, Tajfel’s subsequent experiments suggested that competitive biases were more apparent in groups than what could be explained by the competition over conflicting goals. Tajfel wondered if there was something more fundamental that led to conflict in intergroup behavior (Hogg, “Social,” 5). He began to examine if membership in a group, or categorization as a member of the group, was sufficient to induce competition between groups. To explore this, Tajfel designed the “minimal group” experiment (Hogg, “Social,” 5). The minimal group experiment was intended to create a situation in which Tajfel could discover what minimal variables were required to create in-group favoritism or discrimination toward another group. Specifically, this experiment was intended to create groups that had the minimal variables to form a group without the normal characteristics that created subjective valuations such as ethnicity or gender. The only variable for group membership in his experiment was categorization wherein people were randomly identified as belonging to one group and not another. Tajfel’s intent was to add other variables to this baseline to determine which variables led to discrimination between groups (Turner, 15). In the Tajfel’s minimal group experiment, British school boys were assigned to groups based completely on random characteristics. The boys knew which group they belonged to but the identity of in-group and out-group members were only known by code number. Boys were asked to distribute money to pairs of boys who were only identified by code number indicating group membership. The experiment demonstrated that boys who had been categorized tended to strongly favor their own group in contrast to those who had not been categorized at all. Subsequent experiments demonstrated that categorizing into groups with even the minimal characteristics produced in-group favoritism (Tajfel, “Experiments”). The significance of this finding was that there was no interaction or contact between group members, no history of hostility between groups, and no group goals that would create competing 10

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interest or competition between groups. The only distinction was a classification and perception of in-group/out-group membership (Turner, 15). With this minimal classification, Tajfel found that subjects consistently favored their in-group members. Numerous other studies since this first experiment have discovered the same consistency in their results. Hogg states, “The robust finding is that mere fact of being categorized as a group member produces ethnocentrism and competitive intergroup behavior” (Hogg, “Social,” 6). The insight that under certain circumstances social categorization alone was enough for discrimination between groups became the core of Tajfel’s social identity theory (Hogg, “Social,” 16). In other words, the mere perception of being a part of a group resulted in people favoring their own in-group members over others. Tajfel’s finding on minimal groups led him to consider the motivation favoring in-group relations. He sought to answer why the mere perception of belonging to one group in contrast to another was sufficient to promote intergroup discrimination. He hypothesized that group comparison established a positive in-group distinctiveness in comparison to other groups. His idea was based on three underlying premises. First, there was a psychological requirement that groups provide a positive social identity for its members. Second, positive aspects of this identity were inherently comparable. Social identity was formed from social categories in society and these were internally and culturally evaluated and given value. This led to a third assumption that groups need to distinguish themselves positively from other groups (Turner, 16). As Turner notes, unlike Sherif’s realistic conflict theory in which the competition over group interests and goals resulted in conflict, Tajfel asserted that comparison and the need for positive evaluation led to “social competition” that then created intergroup bias (Turner, 16). This became the psychological sequencing for social identity framework. According to Turner, “The core psychological proposition of a causal sequence, from social categorization to social identity, to social comparison, to positive distinctiveness, was used to erect a theoretical framework for understanding intergroup relations and social change in society at large” (Turner, 16). Categorization and intergroup comparison became one of three complementary legs upon which SIT was based. The second leg of his theory was the relationship of intergroup comparison to group mobilization or, in other words, the relationship between the psychological process of seeking positive social identity and intergroup behavior. Tajfel proposed that people in groups seek to raise their positive group identity through shared behavior in collective action rather than as individuals pursuing personal self-interest (Turner, 17). The third leg of the theory incorporated the broader social context. Tajfel understood that intergroup relationships did not exist in a void but were a part of the broader social structure in which they were embedded (Turner, 17). People have social roles and statuses that define group membership within a society. These categories or groups are both socially and historically defined and valued. As Turner notes, “Thus these social groupings and the political, sociological and economic relationships between them have psychological aspects and consequences” (Turner, 17). SIT sought to provide an explanation for competing interests in groups and the effect of the larger social structure. Through these three complementary legs, SIT provides a framework that integrates the dynamics of psychological processes, social categorization, and the effects of the social structure. Throughout his career, Tajfel maintained that his theory was a way of integrating psychological processes with macro-social structure. Turner concludes, “It is social psychological, outlining concepts and processes which lend themselves to the job of integrating the psychological aspects 11

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of intergroup relations with the macro-social structure which provides their context and with which they interact. In terms of any real-life intergroup relationship, the theory provides a framework, a set of theoretical tools for concrete analysis, not a set of ready-made empirical generalizations” (Turner, 18). SIT remains robust because it integrates intergroup behavior, social structure, and psychological processes. Resisting reductionism, the starting point for its theorizing is the notion that individuals are embedded within relationships that define normative social behavior. There are social norms, values, and rules of behavior that affect the individual’s behavior. As Turner notes, “People seek to act appropriately (evaluate themselves positively) in terms of social norms and values of their social groups and wider society. Such norms and values derive from social systems and ideology” (Turner, 21). Rather than a single theory, it is best to understand SIT as a set of tools and concepts for understanding intergroup relationships and the integration of psychological processes and macro-social contexts. Different contexts require the use of different aspects of these explanatory tools. The next section will describe these concepts individually, while recognizing that there is a dynamic interplay between these concepts in SIT.

Key Concepts in Social Identity Theory SIT was developed to explain the results from Tajfel’s minimal group experiment and to explain intergroup behavior. He and his colleagues developed theories to explain how groups were formed, how they evaluate themselves and others, and the social motivation for being part of a group and for group interaction and conflict (Hogg, “Social,” 6). The core of these theories is how social identity provides group members with a shared identity in which members evaluate who they are, what they believe, and how they should act in relation to their group. SIT also has a number of key theories and concepts that explain different aspects of group formation along with intragroup and intergroup behavior. Although they each create a different area of research about behavior, they integrate together to form a coherent explanatory framework. It is, as Hogg states, “A non-reductionist, interactionist theory that links individual cognition, social interaction and social processes” (Hoff and Abrams, “Social,” 11). For the purpose of this section, I will describe the various components of SIT as they are now discussed in recent social identity literature. (I have chosen to outline the main concepts and ideas here, summarizing the discussion from Hogg’s two essays listed in the references below). Researchers have built upon the theories and concepts of Tajfel and his colleagues, and though they remain the core and framework of social identity approach, new perspectives and concepts have been added to refine our understanding of social identity and intergroup behavior.

Social and Personal Identity Basic to SIT is a discussion of social identity and its relationship to personal identity. At the core of social identity is the knowledge that one belongs to a group, and there is significant

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value given to belonging to that group (Tajfel, “Social,” 292). At its most basic level, social identity derives from group membership. Hogg refines and adds the mobilization of identity to this definition. According to Hogg, social identity is when a salient group prototype is the basis of interaction between people (“Social Identity,” 119). A group prototype is a fuzzy set of attributes such as behaviors, attributes, language, etc. that define the similarities between people in the group and sets them apart from other groups (Hogg, “Social,” 8). The basis for evaluating other persons is transferred from personal identity to a depersonalized social attraction. In other words, to what extent is the individual similar or dissimilar to the group prototype? The group itself may be based on demographic characteristics, such as occupation, shared tasks, or other categories, but people in the group consider themselves as sharing similar characteristics with people of an in-group that differentiates them from an out-group. At the heart of social identity is the way people evaluate other people on the basis of group membership. Social identity defines who are “us” and, just as important, who are the “other.” People also negotiate a personal identity in society. Personal identity is based on idiosyncratic attributes or social roles. Stets and Burke state, “In identity theory, the core of identity is the categorization of the self as an occupant of a role and the incorporation into the self of the meanings and expectations associated with that roles and its performance” (Stets and Burke, 225). These roles have expectations, values, and meanings that guide behavior in society. Rolebased identities involve some kind of interpersonal negotiation as one performs the role. The interaction of social and personal identities is important for understanding intergroup behavior. Rather than seeing these two identities as polar opposites or on a continuum, people occupy roles and belong to a group simultaneously. Stets and Burke note, “Role identities and social identities are always and simultaneously relevant to and influential on perceptions, affect, and behavior” (Stets and Burke, 227). A role can also become a social category in which a group is formed. For instance, I am in the role of a professor in relationship with my graduate students. In the larger institution, that role becomes a categorization of the group “faculty,” visá-vis “administrators.” People have many different social and personal identities that they can draw upon to guide behavior and relationships with others. However, these vary in importance and value depending on the situational context. For instance, when I am interacting with my husband, my membership in the group “faculty” rarely enters into our interaction. It did so at times when we were working at the same institution, and he was the director of instruction services since his job description was to help the group “faculty” with their PowerPoints and technology needs. However, in any given situation, our identity must be psychologically salient, or applicable to the situation, to guide social perception and behavior (Hogg, “Social Identity,” 119). This is discussed below.

Self-Categorization Theory Self-categorization is the foundation for social identity and intergroup relationships in SIT. Selfcategorization theory is the cognitive process that is the basis of intergroup relations. Tajfel’s minimal group experiments demonstrated that the very fact of being categorized into groups led to in-group favoritism. When people become members of a group or are part of a group, they

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view themselves differently, and their identity is based not on an individual identity but rather on the characteristics on which the group is based. People within a group therefore represent a prototype that has the attributes that capture the similarities of people within the group and distinguish them from the prototypes of other groups (Hogg, “Social,” 9). The prototypes that characterize the group describe and prescribe beliefs, attitudes, behavior, and other social norms of the group. Individuals conform to the expectations of these group-based prototypes. People who are categorized as part of a group are no longer seen as idiosyncratic individuals but are attributed with the characteristics of the group prototype, resulting in stereotyping and depersonalizing out-group members (Hogg, “Social,” 8–9). Prototypes rarely describe average or typical in-group members; rather they accentuate the similarities between members of their group and accentuate differences of members of the outgroup. This follows what Hogg calls the meta-contrast principle; people maximize the ratio of perceived intergroup to intragroup differences by accentuating similarities within their group and differences to the out-group (Hogg, “Social Identity,” 118). For a social identity to have an effect on behavior, it has to be psychologically salient. Saliency is determined by whether it is accessible and fits people’s own self-conceptions of who they are in a given situation (Hogg, “Social Identity,” 119). Not all social categories are the same, nor do they have the same value or relevancy in a particular situation. Some categorizations are more accessible, such as gender, ethnicity, and nationality. People use accessible categories to make sense of social behavior and how to account for similarities or differences (Hogg, “Social Identity,” 119). For example, when we hired the first African American woman professor at a previous school where I worked, she often came to me after class to tell me about a comment from a student that she found unusual. We discussed whether this behavior was something I also had experienced or if it was unique to her. By doing so, we were determining which accessible category (our shared category “woman” or her unique category “African American”) accounted for the behavior she had experienced. People also draw upon accessible social identities that fit their self-conceptions or are selfevident in the situation (Hogg, “Social Identity,” 119). In the scenario above, we were discussing whether the behavior fit two accessible social categories, but sometimes people experience behavior that does not fit the perceived prototype that they attribute to a social category. People must then find another social category that fits and explains social behavior. The category that optimally fits becomes psychologically salient as the basis for self-categorization, or categorization of others for differentiation, in a given situation (Hogg, “Social Identity,” 119).

Social Identity Motivations One question that Tajfel and his colleagues sought to answer was why people joined groups and what motivated intergroup behavior. There have been three different motivational dynamics associated with self-categorization and the joining of groups. The first is self-esteem theory. In Tajfel and Turner’s original social identity theory, they focused on how members strive for positive evaluation of the group vis-á-vis an out-group. They asserted that intergroup behavior promoted or protected a favorable group identity. One of the characteristics of group life and intergroup

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behavior is ethnocentrism and the distinction that “we” are better than “them” (Hogg, “Social,” 9). Hogg states that researchers found that positive self-esteem or self-enhancement is one of the most basic of human emotions. Thus members strive for a positive intergroup distinctiveness because self is defined and evaluated based on the group. The prestige, status, and social position of the group are imputed to the individual within the group (Hogg, “Social,” 9). However, in recent research this hypothesis has been challenged. There are inconsistencies in research findings to suggest that the relationship between self-esteem and group behavior is not as closely tied as this theory implies. Group behavior may be affected by other variables, such as strength of group identity, entitativity, or extremity of self-esteem (Hogg “Social Identity,” 120). Research has found that while self-esteem may be raised by group identification, people are adept at guarding themselves against the self-evaluative processes that are the consequence of a low-status or stigmatized group (Hogg, “Social,” 9). Though self-enhancement is involved in the social identity process, as Hogg states, “The link between self-esteem and positive group distinctiveness is not always that tight” (Hogg, “Social Identity,” 120). A second motivational theory is uncertainty-identity theory. This theory suggests that when there is insecurity in a person’s social world, they are uncertain how to behave and how to respond to others (Hogg, “Social Identity,” 120). For most people this uncertainty is unsettling, making them seek to find predictability and reduce this uncertainty about their own perceptions, attitudes, and feelings, especially when it affects their identity. As Hogg states, “Ultimately people need to know who they are, how to behave, and what to think, and who others are, how they might behave, and what they may think” (Hogg, “Social,” 10). Social categorization is effective at reducing this uncertainty because it produces a group stereotype not just for one’s own behavior but also for predicting the behavior of others. According to this theory the more uncertain one is about selfidentity, the more one strives to belong to groups that reduce this uncertainty. Hogg argues that in extreme uncertainty people seek to join groups that are “distinctive, with high entitativity and simple, clear, prescriptive, and consensual prototypes” (Hogg, “Social,” 10). A third motivational theory for self-categorization is optimal distinctiveness theory. According to this theory, people strive to be both the same as other people (assimilation and inclusion) as well as different from other people (differentiation and uniqueness) (Hogg and Abrams, “Intergroup,” 9). People seek to fulfill these contrasting motives by seeking inclusion in group but also maintaining their individual distinction within the group. Small groups tend to over-satisfy optimal distinctiveness, so people strive for inclusion; larger groups over-satisfy inclusion, so members strive for in-group distinctions. Mid-size groups generally satisfy the need for optimal distinctiveness (Hogg and Abrams, “Intergroup,” 9).

Intragroup Relations: Norms, Leaders, and Deviant Members Social identity is expressed through the behavior, beliefs, and attitudes that conform to the in-group prototype. According to Hogg, “Self-categorization produces conformity to in-group behavior (normative behavior) because it assimilates self to the in-group prototype” (Hogg, “Social,” 11). This conformity is not just a surface-level compliance in behavior but a process by which people internalize and enact the group prototype. Not only does this norming process

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accentuate in-group similarities, it also highlights the intergroup distinctiveness (Hogg, “Social,” 11). In order to learn the group prototype, people are attentive to information that is appropriate to the group prototype. Those members who most consistently behave in ways that reflect the group norms or prototype are considered reliable sources of information and have more influence within the group (Hogg, “Social,” 13). They may become the de facto leaders of the group because they are closely identified with the group prototype and are trusted to seek the group’s best interest. Importantly, this assumed trust, based on conformity to group norms, also allows them to deviate from group norms. As Hogg states, “Paradoxically this allows them to diverge from group norms more than less prototypical leaders—they can be normatively innovative, which is the hallmark of leadership” (Hogg, “Social,” 11). The opposite is true of members who are perceived as deviating from the prototypical norm. Members of groups who do not fulfill the prototype or are seen as marginal to the prototype are less liked and less trusted by the group, therefore less influential, and they may also be seen as a threat to the group (Hogg, “Social,” 12). Those who are seen as existing on the margins of in-group/out-group boundaries are liminal figures in the group and can be more strongly rejected by members of their own group than by members of any out-group because they are viewed as a threat to their group. Threatening the norms of the group, they are the “black sheep” of the group and are considered a bad influence on the group’s “way of life” (Hogg, “Social,” 12). Those who are treated as marginal to a group that is important to their identity may overcompensate prototypical behavior in order to be accepted by the group (Hogg, “Social,” 12). For instance, linguistic studies have shown that marginal members of high-status groups tend to overuse the linguistic markers of the high-status group. However, marginal members of a group can also serve as critics of the group norms. They can, if their voice is heard, challenge the conventional wisdom of the group norm and change normative patterns from the inside (Hogg, “Social,” 12). Conversely, if marginal members do not feel as though their voice is heard, they can fragment the group.

Intergroup Relations: Boundaries, Conflicts, and Cooperation Social identity and social categorization have contributed significantly to the understanding of the dynamics of intergroup relationships and how and why cooperation and conflict occur. Selfcategorization suggests that people compare their own group with an out-group and want to ensure that they are positively distinctive (Hogg, “Social,” 7). Intergroup comparisons tend to be ethnocentric, and groups tend to seek to maintain and advance their own status and prestige in comparison to other groups. Lower-status groups, who are less favorably compared, attempt to manage a less favorable evaluation (Hogg, “Social,” 7). According to Hogg, the strategies that groups adopt to maintain a positive evaluation depend on a set of subjective beliefs about the characteristics of their group in relation to another specific out-group (Hogg, “Social,” 7). These beliefs focus on five different relationships between the groups. The first belief about the relationship between groups is the relative status relationship between the groups. Many times the prestige and status of the groups is defined by broader socioeconomic and political structures. The second belief is about the stability of these status

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relationships between the groups—for instance, if a major change (such as new laws, changes in the economy, etc.) is anticipated in the context, which will give more or less prestige to one of the groups. The third is the legitimacy of the status relationship between the groups. For instance, a status difference is reinforced or legitimized by law or broader socioeconomic, political structures or by historical precedence. When the status difference is perceived as illegitimate (such as exclusion from resources in society that are contradictory to membership in a broader group), social protest occurs. The fourth belief is about the permeability between the groups, or in other words, how easily people can join another group. Ideas about social mobility are based on the belief that social boundaries between groups are permeable. This belief causes members of a low-status group to disassociate themselves from their group and seek to gain acceptance into a high-status group (Hogg, “Social Identity,” 122). In groups based on social class, this may be through gaining wealth and education, changing locations, and adopting the prototypical behavior of the highstatus group. However, a high-status group may tolerate limited numbers to pass the boundary because it serves to reinforce the myth that social mobility is possible if an individual makes the effort and serves to undermine efforts toward social change (Hogg, “Social,” 7). Rarely is the person who passes into the in-group truly accepted. Many times the high-status group will change or create new characteristics to define the prototype of the group, such as a distinction between “new” money and “old” money. Those who have sought to cross into a high-status group but do not succeed often find they are also marginalized by the lower-status group and find themselves liminal to both groups. The fifth belief is that groups can turn to cognitive alternatives in which alternate relationships between the two groups can be envisioned (Hogg, “Social,” 6). This often occurs when there is a realization that the boundaries of the high-status group are impermeable and social mobility cannot be achieved. There are several strategies that members of low-status groups draw upon to reimagine the relationship between groups to maintain a positive self-evaluation. One strategy is to avoid comparisons that would lead to negative evaluations and instead focus on group norms that compare favorably to another group, such as emphasis on heritage or group cohesiveness. Another strategy is to compare themselves to lower-status groups in order to gain a favorable evaluation for their own group (Hogg, “Social,” 7). A third is to declare that the current intergroup relationship is illegitimate. Depending on the response of the higher-status group, this could lead to a direct competition over status, or in other words, a social competition (Hogg, “Social,” 8). Self-categorization seems to lead to the assumption that discrimination and conflict between groups is inevitable. If each group is seeking to gain a positive group evaluation in comparison to out-groups, it seems that social competition and social conflict will always be present in intergroup relationships. However, there have been several studies that have used social identity approaches to theorize how to overcome the prejudice and ethnocentrism that seems to be intrinsic to groups and promote cooperation between groups. Researchers have sought to discover if creating superordinate group identity that unified competing groups into a single group is able to produce harmonious intergroup behavior. However, studies found that this result is difficult to both achieve and sustain because people are strongly associated with their social group and identity. An example of this strategy was the attempt to unify competing ethnic groups under a national identity through the use of a

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common language and religion. At the end of the Second World War, many former colonies gained independence and state lines were drawn across ethnic boundaries. Within some newly created states, several traditionally competing ethnic groups resided. New states attempted to use national languages and religion to create a superordinate national identity to create harmonious relations between ethnic groups. Other alternatives are also promising. One example is the cross-categorization in which groups that are categorically distinct cooperate based on some aspect of shared identity. An example would be groups of different religious affiliations cooperating on their shared value of feeding the hungry in their cities. Another option is to reframe group distinctiveness as a positive value within the broader society. Redefining part of group identity in terms of harmonious and cooperative relationships with another group is a further promising strategy (Hogg, “Social,” 8). These strategies show promising prospects in peace and conflict studies based on social identity approaches. The next section discusses some of the uses of SIT to understand intergroup dynamics in both the ancient world and the modern world.

Applying Social Identity Theory One of the strengths of SIT is that it takes into account the broader social setting in which social identity is formed and in which social interaction takes place. Whether in the ancient world (which provides the context of the events recorded in the New Testament) or the modern world, the dynamics of social interaction can be understood through a constellation of theories and concepts that make up the facets of SIT. Every society has statuses and roles in which people are categorized and thus form social identity. These social identities are reinforced through narratives of “who we are,” often idealized prototypes and narratives that also villainize “the other,” or “who we are not.” However, these identities are not fixed but multilayered and flexible and may vary depending on our social context. In some contexts, people may mobilize one social identity, and in others they may mobilize another; it is this mobility that provides an opening for understanding and addressing issues of justice, discrimination, and conflict in both the ancient and modern worlds.

Understanding Social Dynamics of Greco-Roman World One of the uses of SIT is to help understand the intergroup relationships in the New Testament. It allows interpreters to move away from Western individualistic interpretations to understanding the social dynamics of societies wherein group identity is the norm (Kuecker, 224). In GrecoRoman society, one’s identity was defined by social statuses that determined one’s position in society. Statuses are both ascribed (ones we have at birth such as gender, ethnicity, caste, etc.) and achieved (e.g., occupation and education). Often, ascribed social statuses limited or provided opportunities for improving achieved status. When seeking to understand the social dynamics of the New Testament, three broad overlapping social categories marked by statuses influenced social relationships in the early Christian communities.

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The category dividing people in the Greco-Roman society was one’s social standing or position in Greco-Roman society. A person’s social standing was based on one’s legal position in the household and broader society and defined by birthplace, family, wealth, formal education, citizenship, civic position, etc. The narratives of honor and shame determined who was “in” and who was “out.” People went to great effort to remain “in” by performing the social obligations and deeds required by the idealized or prototypical “honorable person” (Russell, In the World, 73). The second major category that divided people in the Greco-Roman world was ethnicity. In the ancient world, ethnicity divided people based on those who were “us” and those who were the “other,” whether it was Jew or Gentile, Greek or barbarian. These differences were reinforced with narratives to depict the “other” as different from themselves. Aaron Kuecker notes, “Ancient ethnographers demonstrated an obsession with the ‘other,’ often describing people with increasingly animalistic characteristics the further they lived from the socio-geographic center of the ethnographer’s own in-group” (Kuecker, 38). Ethnicity was a part of the discourse of exclusion, hierarchy, and domination in the ancient world (Russell, “Galatians,” 11). The third major category in the Greco-Roman world was gender. In the male-dominated Greco-Roman world, “woman” was the other. Narratives in Greco-Roman literature categorized men as good, noble, divine, and more capable of thought, while women were described as wily, inferior, reckless, and timid. The general narrative in the Greco-Roman literature was that men were superior to women; as a category, women were the downfall of men and therefore to be feared and controlled (Russell, Relationshift, 45). The reason for this brief discussion of the social setting of the New Testament is to understand the uniqueness of the early Christian communities and the identity dynamics that are played out in the writings of the New Testament. This is particularly useful in understanding conflict and identity negotiation in the early communities as they lived out a new Spirit-marked identity in their social statuses. The uniqueness of the early Christians communities is not that they gained a new identity and lived it apart from society. Many religious communities, such as the Essenes, emphasized a communal identity and lived apart from society. The uniqueness of the early Christian communities was that they were to live out a new identity “within” their social statuses. They did not lose their social standing, their ethnicity, or their gender, but a new identity superseded and united their community, one that was marked by the Spirit (Kuecker, 219). In this new Spirit-marked community, they were not divided as Jew and Gentile, slave or free, man or woman, but they were to relate to each other in a new way—as those who were no longer “other” but “us” (Russell, Relationshift, 14). Their former social identities were not erased in the community, but rather the common identity of the Spirit transcended these identities (Kuecker, 219). As Kuecker notes, “The Spirit creates a new way of being human in community, especially as it relates to the ‘other’” (Kuecker, 221). SIT brings new insights into the dynamics of these nested identities and the intergroup relationships recorded in the biblical texts.

Modern Applications The modern world is not as different from the ancient world as many think. Even for those who live in individualistic societies, SIT demonstrates that we are still shaped by the categories and

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groups in which we belong. The New Testament writers provided innovative narratives and values to shape a new identity for the early Christ-followers. They also provided models to live in a new way within their own social groups, and this transformed them. As Kuecker points out, this shared identity as Christ-followers that transcends denominational boundaries provides creative space for ecumenical interaction and service (Kuecker, 228). SIT also provides a new way of understanding conflict. Worldwide, studies are demonstrating how SIT can be used to bring peace and restore individuals (Haji, McKeown, and Ferguson, xvi). For example, the book Understanding Peace and Conflict Through Social Identity Theory shares several case studies that demonstrate how SIT has been used in understanding and reducing intergroup conflict in multicultural societies wherein different ethnic groups interact on a regular basis. Many case studies show that promoting a common superordinate identity in which people can participate while sustaining their own ethnic identity is key to reducing intergroup conflict. This dual identity approach is most successful in multicultural societies where multiculturalism is valued and there is access to resources within the superordinate identity (Stathi and Roscini, 65). Although SIT has often been used to address conflict between disparate groups, it is also being used to intentionally realign the social identity of those who have been outcast or marginalized from society in order to reintegrate them. One study used SIT to examine the role of social identity on recruitment and the reintegration of child soldiers. They found that the recruitment of child soldiers includes the transformation of the child’s social identity from child to soldier. Depending on the context, recruiting these children often entails the “othering” of the enemy and the reinforcement of an identity of becoming “liberators” or “jihadist” as part of the commitment to their tribe or national identity. The normalization of this identity is often done through intimidation, punishment, and reward for behaviors that are congruent with being a soldier (Wessells, 110). Researchers also found that the transformation of identity had to be a part of the reintegration of former child soldiers into civil society after the conflict had ended. They found that disarmament and providing a place in civil society was not enough to reintegrate the child; there must also be an identity transformation (Wessells, 111). However, the challenges of identity are not only the self-categorization of the child as a soldier but also the categorization of the child soldier by families and the community. Even though they are children, to the community they are the enemy, a soldier, and therefore considered the “other” (Wessells, 111). Reintegration must therefore occur on three different levels: family, society, and community. Children need to once again reestablish their identity within family relationships as children. Within the community, often new narratives must be told about how children were recruited in order for communities to view them as young people who were exploited rather than hardened soldiers. There is a need for their identity to be seen as “our children” rather than “those soldiers.” Lessons from the studies of child soldiers demonstrate the possibilities of how SIT may prove useful for reintegrating back into society people who have lived on the margins of society for years, such as the homeless, former child prostitutes, prisoners, the poor, etc. Oftentimes, interventions for these groups involve material resources, but as demonstrated with these studies, reintegration requires a realignment of the social identity of both the individual and the community. New narratives are required that make those on the margins of society identified as valued members of a community. Those on the margins also need to see themselves as accepted members of the community and encouraged to view themselves in a new way. When they are accepted members, 20

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new norms, values, and behaviors can be reinforced by the group. Finally, we need to evaluate the kinds of narratives we tell about those on the margins that exclude them from our communities or worse, allow our communities to ignore them altogether because they are not part of “us” but the “other.”

On a Personal Level SIT not only allows us to understand the dynamics of social relations between ethnic groups or those on the margins; it can also help understand our own reactions to others and narratives that we accept as truth. We all belong to groups: women and men, black and white, middle class and poor, liberal and conservative. Our rhetoric often creates divisions between “us” and “them” that vilify the “other” and blames them as a threat to “our way of life.” Without realizing it, we often use social identity to either make a group of people one of us or make them distinctly separate. For example, those who are pro-immigration make immigrants a part of “us” by sharing narratives of immigrants who work hard, pay their taxes, and contribute to society just like “us.” On the other hand, those who are anti-immigration use narratives to distance immigrants from “us,” telling stories of those who are criminals, steal, are on welfare, are a drain on society, and threaten “our way of life.” Even if we do not participate in narratives of exclusion, our social identity allows us to ignore or exclude the problems of those who are not part of our in-group. It is easier to exclude and ignore the plights of the homeless, the uninsured, the poor, the ethnic minorities, the women, etc., when they are not part of our social group. It is not necessarily that we are against any of these groups, but they are seen as not our responsibility because they are not a part of “our group.” However, those who identify as Christ-followers are called to be different. For us, there is no “other,” and the story of the Good Samaritan in Luke highlights this. Nowhere do we ever learn the identity of the person who was robbed. No religious identity or ethnic identity is provided; he is simply a person in need. It is the only descriptor for him, and I think this was deliberate. How much easier would it be to justify those who passed him by if we knew what group he belonged to. But we don’t know, and I think that it is intentional. Christ is responding to the question “who is my neighbor?” and makes it very clear that in his kingdom, our neighbor is only someone in need, a fellow human created like us in the image of God. For those who claim to be followers of Christ, there is no “other”; there is only “we.” Here is one more example from my own experience teaching a class on mission and gender. Throughout the semester, we examine statistics and stories of women worldwide. Students learn about the distinct challenges women face around the world because of their gender: sex trafficking, poverty, illiteracy, domestic violence, forced labor, low wages, etc. They also learn about global women’s movements, wherein women are empowering one another to overcome these challenges. While we were discussing these issues, one of the men in the class commented, “If we see these problems as only women’s problems, they will never be resolved.” Pointing to the men in the class, he continued, “They need to be our problems, too!” He then posted one of the books we used in class on his Facebook page, stating that every man needed to read the book. For him, women were not the “other” anymore; they had become “we,” and “we” needed to work together to address “our” issues. 21

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As Christ-followers, there is no “other”; there is only “we.” As such, the out-group’s problems are our problems. In this world that is so divided and in which the rhetoric seems to vilify so many “others,” we are called to be better. We are called to remember that our primary identity is not men or women, rich or poor, black or white, Democrat or Republican; our primary identity is as Christ-followers. Our new identity is one in which our interactions are characterized by the fruit of the Spirit. We are to relate to all people based on this new Spirit-marked identity.

Conclusion It is rare that a theory remains useful and continues to provide new insights into intergroup behaviors after ten years, let alone the fifty years since Tajfel first created his minimal group experiments. From its roots in social psychology to its modern updating, SIT continues to be a robust framework for understanding conflict and change and perhaps even for promoting peace among different groups. The strength of the social identity approach is that it is not just a single theory but rather a constellation of theories and ideas that provides different perspectives to understand intergroup behavior. Providing important insight into intergroup behavior, it also incorporates a way to understand the relationship between the individual and group, keeping them distinct but in a dialectical relationship within the social context. SIT is a deep and rich theoretical well from which to draw in order to understand intergroup behavior, the relationship between personal identity and social identity, and the relationship of groups to the broader institutional structure of the society in which they are formed. One of the reasons for social identity approach’s longevity is, in part, because it is additive. There is room for theories from other disciplines to contribute to and build upon the theoretical framework established by Tajfel and his colleagues. We can see this in its history as it has already drawn from the field of sociology in its theory of identity and its emphasis on social roles, statuses, and the context of social structure. Contributions from sociolinguistics, sociology of language, and ethnolinguistic vitality theory have much more to add, specifically in how people use language to identify with a particular group and distance themselves from another. Case studies and insights from the new discipline of anthropology of Christianity could provide further insights and concepts to understand how people navigate and negotiate new identities within their traditional contexts. Questions, theories, areas of research, and application from other disciplines will continue to enrich and expand SIT and our understanding of intergroup behavior.

References Adorno, Theodor W., E. Frenkel-Brunswik, D. J. Levinson, and R. M. Standford. The Authoritarian Personality. New York: Harper, 1950. Allport, Floyd Henry. Social Psychology. Boston: Houghton-Mifflin, 1924. Asche, Solomon Eliot. Social Psychology. Englewoods Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1952.

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Ash, Mitchell. “Cultural Context and Scientific Change in Psychology: Kurt Lewin in Iowa.” American Psychologist 47 (1992): 198–207. Brown, Rupert, Angelika Schipper, and Nils Wandersleben. “Bibliography of Publications of Henri Tajfel.” Pages 363–70 in Social Groups and Identity: Developing the Legacy of Henri Tajfel. Edited by W. Peter Robinson. Oxford: Butterworth Heinemann, 1996. Davido, John F., Anna-Kaisa Newheiser, and Jacques-Philippe Leyens. “A History of Intergroup Relations.” Pages 407–30 in Handbook of the History of Social Psychology. Edited by Arie Kruglanski and Wolfgang Stroebe. New York: Psychology, 2012. Farr, Robert M. The Roots of Modern Social Psychology. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 1996. Festinger, Leon. A Theory of Cognitive Dissonance. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1957. Gergen, Kenneth J. “The Social Dimension of Social Psychology.” Pages 137–58 in Handbook of the History of Social Psychology. Edited by Arie Kruglanski and Wolfgang Stroebe. New York: Psychology, 2012. Haji, Reeshma, Shelley McKeown, and Neil Ferguson. “Social Identity and Peace Psychology: An Introduction.” Pages xv–xx in Understanding Peace and Conflict Through Social Identity Theory. Edited by Shelley McKeown, Reeshma Haji, and Neil Ferguson. Switzerland: Springer, 2016. Higgens, E. Tory. “Motivation Science in Social Psychology: A Tale of Two Histories.” Pages 199–218 in Handbook of the History of Social Psychology. Edited by Arie Kruglanski and Wolfgang Stroebe. New York: Psychology, 2012. Hilton, Denis. “The Emergence of Cognitive Social Psychology: A Historical Analysis.” Pages 45–80 in Handbook of the History of Social Psychology. Edited by Arie Kruglanski and Wolfgang Stroebe. New York: Psychology, 2012. Hogg, Michael A. “Social Identity Theory.” Pages 111–37 in Contemporary Social Theories. Edited by Peter J. Burke. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2006. Hogg, Michael A. “Social Identity Theory.” Pages 3–18 in Understanding Peace and Conflict through Social Identity Theory. Edited by Shelley McKeown, Reeshma Haji, and Neil Ferguson. Switzerland: Springer, 2016. Hogg, Michael A., and Dominic Abrams. “Social Identity and Social Cognition: Historical Background and Current Trends.” Pages 1–25 in Social Identity and Social Cognition. Edited by Michael A. Hogg and Dominic Abrams. Oxford: Blackwell, 1999. Hogg, Michael A. and Dominic Abrams. “Intergroup Relations: An Overview.” Pages 1–14 in Intergroup Relations. Edited by Michael A. Hogg and Dominic Abrams. Philadelphia: Psychology, 2001. Hornsey, Matthew. “Social Identity Theory and Self Categorization Theory: A Historical Review.” Social and Personality Psychology Compass 2 (2008): 204–22. Jahoda, Gustav. A History of Social Psychology: From Eighteenth-Century Enlightenment to the Second World War. Cambridge: University Publishing House, 2007. Kruglanski, Arie, and Wolfgang Stroebe. “The Making of Social Psychology.” Pages 3–18 in Handbook of the History of Social Psychology. Edited by Arie Kruglanski and Wolfgang Stroebe. New York: Psychology, 2012. Kuecker, Aaron J. The Spirit and the Other: Social Identity, Ethnicity and Intergroup Reconciliation in Luke-Acts. LNTS. New York: T&T Clark, 2011. Le Bon, Gustave. The Crowd. London: Unwin, 1896. Mead, George Hebert. Mind, Self and Society: From the Standpoint of Social Behaviorist. Edited by C. W. Morris. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1982. Moede, Walter. Experimentelle Massenpsycholigie: Beirträge zur Experimentalpsychologie der Gruppe. Leipzig, Germany: Hirzel, 1920. Russell, A. Sue. In the World but Not of the World: The Liminal Life of Pre-Constantine Christian Communities. PhD diss., University of California, Los Angeles, 2013. Russell, A. Sue. “Galatians 3:28 Beyond Status and Role: The Social Dimensions of Pauline Inaugurated Eschatology.” Pages 1–19 in “One in Christ”: Essays on Early Christianity in Honor of S. Scott Bartchy. Edited by David Lertis Matson and K. C. Richardson, Eugene: Pickwick, 2014.

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Russell, A. Sue, and Jackie Roese. Relationshift: Changing the Conversation about Men and Women in the Church. Whittier: Cross Perspectives, 2018. Sherif, Mezafer, O. J. Harvey, B. J. White, W. R. Hood, and Carolyn Sherif. Intergroup Conflict and Cooperation: The Robber’s Cave Experiment. Norman: University of Oklahoma Book Exchange, 1961. Stathi, Sofia, and Claudia Roscini. “Identity and Acculturation Processes in Multicultural Societies.” Pages 55–70 in Understanding Peace and Conflict Through Social Identity Theory. Edited by Shelley McKeown, Reeshma Haji, and Neil Ferguson. Switzerland: Springer, 2016. Steiner, Ivan Dale. “Whatever Happened to Group in Social Psychology?” Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 10 (1974): 93–108. Stets, Jan E., and Peter Burke. “Identity Theory and Social Identity Theory.” Social Psychology Quarterly 63 (2000): 224–37. Tajfel, Henri. “Experiments in Intergroup Discrimination.” Journal of Social Issues 25 (1970): 96–102. Tajfel, Henri. “Social Categorization.” English manuscript of “La catégorization sociale.” Pages 272–302 in Introduction a la Psychologie Sociale. Edited by S. Moscovici. Paris: Larousse, 1972. Tajfel, Henri, and John C. Turner. “An Integrative Theory of Intergroup Conflict.” Pages 33–47 in The Social Psychology of Intergroup Relations. Edited by W. G. Austin and S. Worchel. Monterey: Brooks/ Cole, 1979. Tajfel, Henri, and A. Wilkes. “Classification and Quantitative Judgement.” British Journal of Psychology 54.2 (1963): 101–14. Taylor, Donald M., and Fathali M. Moghaddam. Theories of Intergroup Relations: International Social Psychological Perspectives. London: Praegerm, 1994. Triplett, Norman D. “The Dynamgenic Factor in Peacemaking and Competition.” American Journal of Psychology 9 (1898): 507–33. Turner, John C. “Henri Tajfel: An Introduction.” Pages 1–24 in Social Groups and Identity: Developing the Legacy of Henri Tajfel. Edited by W. Peter Robinson. Oxford: Butterworth Heinemann, 1996. Turner, John C., and Howard Giles. “Introduction: The Social Psychology of Intergroup Behavior.” Pages 1–32 in Intergroup Behavior. Edited by John C. Tuerner and Howard Giles. Oxford: Blackwell, 1981. Wessells, Michael G. “Reintegration of Child Soldiers: The Role of Social Identity in the Recruitment and Reintegration of Child Soldiers.” Pages xv–xx in Understanding Peace and Conflict through Social Identity Theory. Edited by Shelley McKeown, Reeshma Haji, and Neil Ferguson. Switzerland: Springer, 2016. Wundt, Wilhelm. Völkerpsychologie: eine Untersuchung der Entwichlungsgesetze von Sprache, Mythus and Sitte. 10 vols. Leipzig: W. Englemann, 1900.

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Chapter  2

Matthew Matthew J. Marohl

Introduction The Gospel of Matthew tells of the story of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus the Messiah. From its opening genealogy—grafting Jesus into an ancient and ongoing story of God’s activity in the world, through its conclusion with the “great commission”—sending the disciples out to continue God’s activity in the world, the gospel tells the story of Jesus. The gospel is also told in a way that forms a collective identity for its audience. Narratives often lie at the center of identity formation. People tell their stories and in so doing, they both form and maintain a collective identity. “This is our story and it tells us who we are.” The Gospel of Matthew, then, not only tells the story of Jesus, but is also a narrative that serves as the foundation for the social identity of Jesus-followers. This commentary will take seriously both functions of the Gospel of Matthew. We will listen to the teaching and preaching of Jesus. We will encounter Jesus as healer. We will consider the claims being made about Jesus and we will conclude that this is a story of power and authority— the power and authority of Rome and of the Temple and of Jesus himself. But we will also hear the repeated call to righteousness as the desired primary, normative ideological characteristic of the audience. In other words, the Gospel of Matthew intends to form and maintain a collective identity, leaving the audience to confirm that “we are God’s righteous ones and we are to live lives of righteousness.”

Author While some believe that the apostle Matthew wrote our gospel, I conclude along with the majority of interpreters that we do not know the author. The text does not name an author. Further, the title itself, “according to Matthew,” was most likely added in the second century. While it is probable that the title refers to the apostle Matthew (9:9, 10:3), it does not seem to be a firsthand account of the life of Jesus. Moreover, the gospel’s reliance on Mark and Q as source material seems unlikely if it were written by a disciple with a first-person experience of the events. Finally, if the gospel was written after the destruction of the temple, it would doubtfully be the work of a contemporary of Jesus. While we do not know the author of our gospel, that is not the end of our discussion. From the text, we are able to make a number of observations. The author understands himself and those

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to whom he is writing as among God’s righteous. The author repeatedly draws upon Hebrew Scripture in his description of both the ministry of Jesus and of his identity. The author is well versed in Judean traditions of interpretation. And perhaps most importantly for our reading of the gospel, the author employs strong ingroup-outgroup language throughout the text. For modern readers, this sometimes harsh language of comparison seems to lack any sense of nuance. The author draws a boundary between the Christ-following addressees and Gentiles (5:47; 6:7), Judean leaders and “their” synagogues (4:23; 9:35, 10:17), and the Judeans (28:15). This language of comparison will play a central role as we explore both the person of Jesus and the collective identity of the audience. I will offer one final important note. While we do not know the author of our gospel, I will follow standard practice and refer to the author simply as “Matthew.” I will also, on occasion, use masculine pronouns. It is not my intention for this to indicate a patriarchal reading of the text, but to reflect the historical and cultural reality that the vast majority of first-century texts were written by men.

Date While a specific date cannot be known for the composition of Matthew, it was likely written between 80 and 90 CE. Perhaps the earliest reference to the gospel is found in the Letter to the Philippians by Ignatius, bishop of Antioch, circa 110 CE. The Didache, also from the early second century, draws heavily from Matthew. In short, we can say rather conclusively that the gospel was written before 100 CE. While some interpreters insist that the gospel was written before the fall of Jerusalem, I side with the majority opinion that the date must be later than 70 CE. First, the gospel itself may refer to the destruction of the temple (22:7). Second, the author seems to have drawn upon Mark for source material which is most often dated between 60 and 70 CE. Third, some of the outgroup language employed by the author indicates a date after 70 CE. The gospel’s many references to the scribes and the Pharisees likely refer to those who are working to establish a competing understanding of righteousness that is emerging after the fall of Jerusalem (e.g., Matt 23).

Location The discussion of setting often locates a possible original audience in Antioch, Galilee, Alexandria, Caesarea or “some town east of the Jordan River.” While the conclusions are different, the conversation tends to begin with similar observations. The setting is likely one with a substantial Greek-speaking Judean population and one that is large enough and diverse enough to account for both Matthew’s Christ-followers and the Judean outgroup (described variously throughout the gospel as the Jews, the Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the scribes). In support of a Galilean setting is the text’s emphasis on that location in Jesus’s post-resurrection appearances (26:32; 28:10). In support of Antioch is the recognition that Matthew is the only gospel to mention Syria (4:24). Moreover, Ignatius, the bishop of Antioch, refers to the gospel very early in the

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second century. In the end, neither the place of origin nor the location of an original audience is ultimately unknowable. While we do not know the location of the addressees, we are able to make several observations regarding their social location. First, the author’s emphasis upon righteousness and repeated comparison with both Judeans and Gentiles makes clear that the audience was undergoing the important task of forming the collective identity of “Christ-follower.” Second, it is widely debated whether or not the Christ-following addressees were at this time still members of a larger Judean group or whether they understood themselves to be distinct. Regardless of how one concludes, references to “their synagogues” (4:23) and other similar outgroup designations makes clear that the author employed sharp ingroup-outgroup boundaries.

Theological Themes The gospel does not offer what modern readers might consider a systematic theology. Taking Matthew on its own terms, however, a number of theological observations may be made. I will offer five, but they are only a limited sample of claims that might be made regarding the Gospel of Matthew. First, the author’s emphasis upon the words and deeds of Jesus as fulfillment of scripture is not (what modern readers would call) apologetic. Matthew was not written to convince outgroup members that Jesus is the Messiah. Rather, the gospel weaves together the life of Jesus with a known scriptural tradition to create a narrative of Jesus as Messiah for those who already follow Christ. The fulfillment theme is also related to the description of Jesus as the obedient Son of God. In his obedience, Jesus acts to fulfill all righteousness. In other words, he discerns and does the will of God, and one way that this is evident is through the fulfillment of scriptural tradition. Second, the gospel connects the birth of Jesus with his death and resurrection, and in so doing, establishes a theme of new life which runs throughout the gospel. The birth narrative is told as a presumed honor killing. In the face of expected death, the womb becomes a symbol of unexpected new life. Likewise, in the experience of death on the cross, the tomb becomes a symbol of unexpected new life. This rich promise of new life is expressed throughout the gospel. Third, the gospel’s emphasis on righteousness often acts as a stumbling block for modern interpreters. Especially for those reading through the lens of reformation theology, several sections of Matthew might sound like works righteousness. The author, however, speaks in sharp contrast to such a reading. Throughout the gospel, responsibility follows identity, it does not achieve identity. “You are the light of the world,” therefore, “let your light shine” (5:14–16). Even Jesus, as the Son of God, acts to fulfill all righteousness. In turn, Jesus describes his followers as the people of God who must also discern and do the will of God. There are some, however, who are identified by Jesus as those who are misguided in their discernment of God’s will and in turn practice a righteousness that is incomplete (e.g., the Pharisees and the scribes). The gospel, then, presents a contrast between competing claims of righteousness. Fourth, compassion and violence are presented as a polarity for the ingroup (Jesus and the Christ-followers) and the outgroup (those unable or unwilling to discern and do the will the God). The gospel begins by contrasting the compassion shown by Joseph in his resistance to an

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honor killing in the birth narrative of Jesus with the violence of Herod. The gospel concludes with a contrast between the state’s violence at the crucifixion and the compassion shown by the resurrected Jesus toward the followers who had rejected and denied him. Throughout the gospel, the contrast between compassion and violence is evident and serves as a basic identity marker for both ingroup and outgroup. Lastly, throughout the ministry of Jesus, non-Judeans (Gentiles) are included among the ingroup of Christ-followers (e.g., the call of Matthew; 9:9–17). While the gospel is often understood to emphasize Gentile derogation (e.g., the commissioning of the disciples and Jesus’s interaction with the Canaanite woman), a number of non-Judean exemplars of righteousness populate the text. In addition, discussions of kinship are renegotiated, creating a space for nonJudeans (e.g., “Who are my mother and brothers?”). In the end, the gospel repeatedly counts non-Judeans among the ingroup of Christ-followers.

Social Identity Approach Besides telling the narrative of the life and death and resurrection of Jesus, the Gospel of Matthew works to create a collective identity among the addressees. For the author and the audience alike, they are God’s righteous who are to live lives of righteousness. This collective identity is established through considerable intergroup comparison. For example, the addressees are compared with the “gentiles.” They are compared with both Judean leaders and the Judeans as a whole. In addition, Roman authority is depicted as an outgroup from which the addressees are victimized. To best understand this intergroup comparison and its implication for the formation and maintenance of social identity, we will employ a social identity approach. Such an approach will help us to raise new questions and see aspects of the text that, without these lenses, are easy to miss. For a thorough reading of the text, however, we will look beyond intergroup comparison. We will witness how the author uses the identity and authority of Jesus to establish ingroup boundaries. We will explore how the teaching of Jesus is used to establish shared ingroup norms. We will conclude that Jesus is the ultimate ingroup prototype—or idealized representation of the group—and that the disciples are often depicted as prototypical of desired ingroup values. In the end, much of our discussion of the collective identity emphasized in the gospel will center on the call to righteousness. The desired righteousness of the addressees is compared with the unrighteousness of others. We will witness a devaluation of others often during honor challenges regarding righteousness. In the end, we will find that our social identity approach reveals a deep integration of the Jesus-narrative with the call to a collective identity among the addressees. In other words, in telling one story, the author accomplishes two important tasks.

Structure For some interpreters, the five occurrences of the phrase “When Jesus had finished these sayings” (7:28; 11:1; 13:53; 19:1; and 26:1) indicate that Matthew is meant to be divided into

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five sections. Moreover, the five sections are thought to emphasize the teaching of Jesus and echo the five books of Moses. Still others find that the text follows a chronological and geographical structure. After a lengthy introduction to Jesus (1:1–4:16), the gospel is divided into two halves. The first is an account of Jesus’s ministry in Galilee (4:17–16:20) and the second follows his journey to Jerusalem and to his death and resurrection (16:21–28:20). In support of this reading is the phrase “from that time” at the beginning of both sections. For this commentary, I will conclude that the author of Matthew moves freely between narrative and discourse, emphasizing both the teaching of Jesus and his deeds. We may also conclude that while the narrative follows the chronological and corresponding geographical movements of his life, the identity of Jesus and the developing social identity of the addressees are creatively and thoughtfully conveyed throughout the text. In the end, the structure is the means and not the message. With this in mind, I will follow a very general outline for the gospel. Each of the ten broad movements of the narrative will be subdivided into smaller units as necessary and are evident in the headings throughout the commentary. It is important to keep in mind that the gospel flows from one story to the next, from one saying to another, and that imposing and following any structure is to some degree an artificial process.

Commentary Introduction to Jesus, the Obedient Son of God (1:1–4:17) (1:1–17) With the first words of the gospel, the author describes Jesus as the “son of David.” We are told that there were fourteen generations from Abraham to King David (1:2–6a). There where another fourteen generations from David to the deportation of the Israelites to Babylon (1:2b–11). Finally, there were another fourteen generations from the Babylonian exile to the birth of Jesus the Messiah (1:12–16). The NRSV presents this in three paragraphs, each with fourteen generations. In Hebrew, each letter is associated with a number. The name David, or DVD, is associated with the number 14. “D” (Dalet) is the fourth letter of the alphabet and “V” (Vav) is the sixth. The letters added together, D + V + D or 4 + 6 + 4, equal 14. By giving the genealogy of Jesus in three sections of fourteen generations each, the author is emphasizing over and over and over again that Jesus is from the line of David. By highlighting his relationship with David, the author makes two claims regarding the identity of Jesus. First, the teaching of Jesus is not new, but is part of the ongoing story of God’s activity in the world. Second, his relationship with David emphasizes the authority of Jesus. The authority of Jesus will be compared with that of Roman and Judean leaders and this genealogy places him within the lineage of Israel’s great king. Besides the two claims made regarding the identity of Jesus, the genealogy also makes two claims regarding the social identity of those who follow Jesus. First, Christ-followers are also being grafted into the ongoing story of God’s activity in the world. The gospel begins with the genealogy of Jesus and concludes with the call for his followers to make disciples of all nations (28:16–20). Second, the genealogy introduces the theme of new life through the inclusion of four women (Tamar, 1:3; Rahab, 1:5; Ruth, 1:5; and the wife of Uriah, 1:6). It is commonly 29

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noted that each of the women were non-Judean and that the author may have included nonJudeans to signal that the followers of Jesus would include both Judeans and non-Judeans. However, it is also commonly claimed, that each woman had some history of deviant sexual activity. Besides the unnecessary misogyny of such a reading, it is also inconsistent with the rest of the gospel. Matthew does not emphasize deviant sexual behavior elsewhere in the text. So, why would the author do so here? In contrast, we might note that each of the women played a decisive role at a critical time, helping to ensure that the lineage would continue. In other words, their actions help to establish a long history of new life rising from situations of expected death. (1:18–25) The United Nations estimates that more than 5000 women worldwide are killed each year in the name of family honor. This horrific violence committed in the name of defending honor is both modern and ancient, and it is in this context that the author tells the birth story of Jesus. It is the story of Joseph’s assumption of the adultery of Mary and his subsequent dilemma. If he reveals her pregnancy, her family as well as Joseph’s family will likely defend their honor with an honor killing. If he conceals her pregnancy, he is going against the law of the Lord. The author provides information that is not immediately known to Joseph. Mary has conceived through the Holy Spirit. Since Joseph does not know this, he suspects Mary of adultery. Modern interpreters are nearly unanimous in their view that divorce was Joseph’s only real option. It is argued that a public divorce would bring shame upon Mary and a private divorce would minimize her disgrace. Such a reading, however, does not consider the ancient Mediterranean dynamics of family honor. It is not Mary’s honor (in a modern, North Atlantic understanding of the term) that is at stake. Rather, it is the collective honor of her family. If Mary is even suspected of having committed adultery, the honor of her family is in threat. Subsequently, her family must defend its honor. So, Joseph is faced with a dilemma. Does he reveal the pregnancy? If he does, her pregnancy will threaten the honor of both her family as well as the family of Joseph, and they will need to defend their honor by killing Mary. If he does not, he is hiding the pregnancy, hiding the adultery, and going against the law of the Lord. Those who assume that divorce is Joseph’s only real option also tend to assume that honor killings did not actually occur in the ancient Mediterranean world. Somehow, they are able to imagine Herod killing children, the beheading of John the Baptist, and even the crucifixion of Jesus, but are not be willing to concede that brothers and uncles killed their sisters and nieces when family honor was at stake. Are there ancient examples of honor killings for our consideration? In the book of Susanna, the community determines that Susanna’s actions brought shame to the house of Joakim and conclude that she must be killed (Susanna 19–22; 36–41). While the story ends with Susanna’s innocence and life restored, it reveals an important dynamic of ancient Judean culture: the elders, Susanna (and presumably Joakim), and the Judean assembly all assume that if Susanna has committed adultery she will be killed. In his description of the adultery of David with Bethsheeba, the first-century Jewish historian Josephus notes that when Bethsheeba became pregnant her sin had to be concealed; for, according to the laws of the fathers, she was deserving of death as an adulteress (Jewish Antiquities 7.131). Similarly, the relationship between adultery and family honor is a reoccurring theme in the writing of the Jewish philosopher Philo. According to him, adultery is the greatest of all crimes due to 30

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the damage done to family honor (On the Decalogue 126). In addition, he repeatedly explains that the proper punishment for adultery is death. In describing a woman suspected of adultery, he notes that she is threatened by two dangers. First, she is in danger of losing her life. Second, she is in danger of bringing shame on her past. He notes that the latter danger is a far more grievous thing than death (On the Special Laws 3.52–54). Finally, early Christian interpretation of the birth story of Jesus identifies the event as a probable honor killing. The Infancy Gospel of James, a non-canonical gospel written in the latter half of the second century, expands upon the Gospel of Matthew by providing a more detailed picture of the birth of Jesus. The additional material reveals that Joseph’s dilemma is not that of public versus private divorce, but indeed that of an honor killing (The Infancy Gospel of James, 13:1–14:8). Likewise, in Patriologiae Cursus Completus, the anonymous author makes clear that Joseph’s dilemma is that of the honor killing of Mary. This account differs from the Infancy Gospel of James. Here, Joseph wonders whether or not it is God who is the cause of Mary’s pregnancy. Regardless of the cause, the pregnancy is still described as a sin. Importantly, even though the author does not portray Joseph as suspecting Mary of adultery, his dilemma remains the same. Should Joseph conceal Mary’s sin? Or, should Joseph publicize her sin to the sons of Israel? If her pregnancy is discovered, she will be the victim of an honor killing (56:633). The significance of this reading is threefold. First, by describing Joseph as righteous and then inviting the addressees to consider his dilemma, the author makes clear that righteousness involves discerning the will of God in a particular context. Second, the author establishes a theme that will run throughout the gospel, culminating in the death of resurrection of Jesus. The womb, like the tomb, is no longer an image of expected death, but of unexpected new life. Third, story of the birth of Jesus and Joseph’s dilemma introduces the polarity of compassion and violence that will be evident throughout the gospel. In this case, Joseph is an exemplar of compassion. His righteousness is evident in his compassion, in this discernment that the will of God is to protect the life of Mary and the unborn Jesus. This righteousness and compassion will stand in contrast to the violence of Herod in following section. (2:1–23) The second chapter weaves together two interconnected stories in an A/B/A/B pattern. The author first details the visit of the magi and the response from Herod (2:12). This is followed by Joseph, Mary, and Jesus’s escape to Egypt (2:13–15). The author returns to Herod and his violent massacre of the infants (2:16–18). Finally, we return to Joseph, Mary, and Jesus and their exodus from Egypt into Galilee. Following the account of the birth of Jesus, Matthew contrasts the responses of the magi with that of Herod. Some interpreters read this as a comparison between Judean and non-Judean responses to Jesus. While there is some question regarding the identity of the magi (the NRSV prefers the translation “wise men”), there is no question that they are non-Judean. Because they are seeking the “king of the Jews,” and because Herod responds with fear and jealousy, they conclude that this represents a Judean/non-Judean conflict. Such a reading, however, seems unlikely for at least two reasons. First, Herod was a client king of Judea and would be much more closely associated with Roman interest than with that of the Judeans. Second, the author of Matthew includes a wide variety of inter- and intragroup comparison throughout the text, but never does so in a way that is so simply Judean and non-Judean. 31

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So, what are we to make of the comparison between the responses of the magi and that of Herod? Here, our author makes explicit that the authority of Jesus will be a challenge to the authority of Rome. Herod served as a client king in Judea and was known for his oppressive taxation and tyranny. Furthermore, the high priests and scribes at this time were members of the ruling class and their interests often fell in line with that of Herod. Therefore, rather than a simple Judean/non-Judean contrast, our author is beginning to invite the audience to imagine a diverse population of Judeans with competing allegiances. In any case, it was only Rome that could offer the title of king. That one has been born who is called the “king of the Jews,” is a potential threat to all who wish to maintain the status quo power structure of Rome in Judea. The escape of Joseph, Mary, and Jesus to Egypt has a number of important similarities to the story of the infant Moses in Egypt, perhaps none more significant than Pharaoh’s murder of the Israelite male children (Exod 1:8–22). It is difficult not to hear echoes of this action in the murderous violence of Herod. There is also, of course, the shared geography of Egypt. For those who identify a five-part structure to the Gospel of Matthew (echoing the five books of the Torah), they find here another connection between Jesus and Moses. The connection, however, is not so simple. While Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt—a land of oppression—Joseph, Mary, and Jesus escaped to Egypt for safety. This is perhaps not enough to argue against this traditional reading, but it may invite us to also look beyond the Moses story. For example, Jacob was called by God to move his whole family to Egypt (Gen 46:2–4). No matter what tradition the author drew upon, it is clear that Jesus is described as being protected by God and that even as an infant he is obedient to the will of the Father. Also evident in this story is the gospel’s polarity between compassion and violence. In being protected, Jesus is shown compassion. Throughout his life and ministry, Jesus will in turn show compassion to many. In his murder and fear and anger, Herod is an exemplar of the violence that will extend throughout the gospel. After Herod’s horrific killing of all children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or younger, the author recounts the death of Herod and the return of Joseph, Mary, and Jesus from Egypt. This aspect of the story invites us to consider the impossibility of harmonizing Matthew’s birth story with that of Luke. According to Matthew, Bethlehem was not only the birthplace of Jesus, but the home of Joseph and Mary. In fact, they intended to return to their home in Bethlehem, but were redirected to Galilee for fear of future violence from Archelaus, who ruled over Judea in place of his father, Herod. Luke makes clear that Joseph and Mary lived in Galilee and only traveled to Bethlehem for a census. Beyond this geographic discrepancy, the stories could hardly be more dissimilar. Where Luke describes an encounter between angels and shepherds, Matthew describes magi following a star (was it the Jupiter/Saturn conjunction, a comet, or a supernova?). In the end, this chapter places Jesus in Galilee and establishes that he will be a continued threat to those with allegiance to Rome. (3:1–17) In the third chapter of our gospel, the author introduces John the Baptist and describes the baptism of Jesus. While there is evidence that some early Christ-followers understood John to be in competition with Jesus, Matthew connects the two, going so far as describing them as using the same language. Here, John proclaims, “Repent for the kingdom of heaven has come near” (3:2). Later, Jesus will issue the same proclamation (4:17). Furthermore, the author integrates John and his movement into the gospel narrative after the baptism of Jesus (9:14; 11:2–3). Therefore, rather than being a competing voice, John’s proclamation of repentance is consistent with that of Jesus. 32

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Central to the proclamation of John is the notion of repentance and the promise that the kingdom of heaven has come near. Both themes will run throughout the gospel. To repent is to undergo a reorientation, to turn one’s self around. While it is classically understood to mean a turn from a self-orientation to a God-orientation, or a turn from sin toward God’s grace, the author connects repentance to the notion of righteousness. When John sees many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he labels them as a brood of vipers, and he challenges them to bear fruit worthy of repentance. In other words, a differentiation is made by the devaluation of the other and a challenge is made that they must reorient their understanding of righteousness. The author will claim throughout the gospel that the Pharisees are unrighteous, for they are unable and unwilling to discern and do the will of God. Furthermore, to repent is to reorient one’s understanding of righteousness and to act accordingly by bearing good fruit. John’s call to repentance is connected to the warning that the kingdom of heaven has come near. The phrase “kingdom of heaven” is a Matthean expression and the author’s use of it is similar to the way in which “reign of God” seems to have been used in synagogues. Namely, they both emphasize the need to act in accordance with God’s will in the present. Rather than imagining a future kingdom in which God reigns, this expression emphasizes that God’s reign has come and God’s people must act accordingly. This emphasis on the present is certainly consistent with the gospel’s sustained emphasis on righteousness and the call to bear good fruit. In the baptism of Jesus, the author further establishes the theme of righteousness. Previously, John has indicated that one will come who is more powerful than he. With his arrival at the Jordan, we witness the adult Jesus for the first time and, for the first time, Jesus speaks. As we are led to expect, John recognizes the authority of Jesus and attempts to prevent the baptism. But Jesus insists that it is “proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness” (3:15). In this case, to fulfill is “to perform” or “to do” and righteousness is to “act in accordance with the will of God.” In other words, Jesus and John must act with righteousness, doing the will of God, just as all followers of Jesus will be called upon to discern and do the will of God. Importantly, the phrase “all righteousness” is not a special or unique form of righteousness that is reserved for Jesus, but is the righteousness that is shared between Jesus and those who follow him. In other words, just as the identity of Jesus as God’s Son, the Beloved, will manifest itself in righteousness, the social identify of Christ-followers will also be revealed in acts of righteousness. In addition to further establishing the theme of righteousness, the baptism of Jesus makes clear his identity. To be sure, there are aspects of this story that will reoccur in the gospel. In Matthew, all of creation recognizes the authority of Jesus. At his birth, there was a star. An earthquake accompanies the resurrection (28:2). At his baptism, the heavens are opened and a Spirit descends like a dove. But central to the story is the proclamation, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased” (3:17). The identity of Jesus, then, is not only that of Son of God, but that of the obedient Son of God—the one who must act with all righteousness. The baptism of Jesus is also critical in forming the collective identity of the Christ-followers. In this case, Jesus is described as the prototype for righteousness or the group member who exemplifies the ideology characteristic of the group. Jesus himself is righteous; he fulfills the will of God. Furthermore, he not only typifies this shared value; he calls his followers to discern and do the will of God. The call to righteousness, then, is the central identity marker of both Jesus and 33

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his followers. In this case, and throughout the gospel, righteousness may be understood as the act of discerning and doing the will of God. (4:1–11) The temptation of Jesus is often interpreted in one of three ways. The first emphasizes the theological concern of salvation history. Here, Jesus’s time in the wilderness is understood to be an echo of Israel’s forty years in the wilderness. Just as God delivered Israel from slavery and into freedom, God’s current saving or delivering action depends upon Jesus’s successful navigation of his temptation. A second interpretation draws a comparison between Jesus’s temptations and the temptations faced by all who follow Christ. Here, Jesus is the model for faithfulness and resilience in the face of trial. Finally, some interpret the temptation of Jesus in terms of the theological concern of Christology. In other words, what type of messiah will Jesus be? Will he desire political or military power? By navigating each temptation, Jesus lays the groundwork for understanding his messianic identity. In addition to these popular readings of the text, it is helpful to identify that the author describes Jesus as the obedient Son of God. Jesus is led into the wilderness by the Spirit to be tempted by the devil. In this case, Jesus is again following or discerning and doing the will of God. While the specific term is not used here, the language of righteousness is present. God leads through the Spirit and Jesus follows. Jesus is tested in the wilderness for forty days and forty nights. The number forty is used throughout the Hebrew Bible (e.g., the flood narrative; Gen 7:17), however, the author is likely again employing the Moses and exodus imagery. As Joseph, Mary, and Jesus’s movement to and from Egypt and Herod’s killing of the children in Bethlehem both reflected the Moses story, here too the author draws us to his narrative. Moses entered the cloud and spent forty days and forty nights on the mountain (Exod 24:18). He spent forty days and forty nights with the Lord when he received the covenant (Exod 34:28). Finally, Israel’s wilderness wandering lasted for forty years (Deut 8:2). The three temptations are each structured around the theme of righteousness. The first two begin with the phrase “If you are the Son of God” and continue with a challenge. In other words, the devil asserts that if Jesus is the Son of God, he should prove it by responding to his challenge, by bending to his will. By refusing to give in to the temptations, Jesus asserts that he is the Son of God, and this is evident by his doing the will of God (rather than that of the devil). The third temptation follows a different structure, but again emphasizes righteousness. The devil offers Jesus all of the kingdoms of the world if he will fall down and worship him. This is the most striking challenge of them all. The devil literally calls Jesus to bend to his will. Again, for a third time, Jesus refuses the devil and remains righteous to the will of God. As with his obedience to the will of God in his baptism, the wilderness temptations of Jesus emphasize again that Jesus serves as the prototype of righteousness. “If you are the Son of God” is a powerful identity challenge. Are you who you say you are? Are you who God says you are? It is with his obedience to God and his commitment to doing God’s will that Jesus affirms his identity. The three temptations also point toward the lives of his followers. Even in times of trail and temptation, their righteousness does not establish their identity; rather, their identity as followers of Christ is evident in their righteousness. Finally, in an echo of Jesus’s three temptations, Peter will later deny Jesus three times and will serve as a reminder for the followers of Christ of the difficulty of maintaining this group identity maker (26:69–75). 34

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Jesus Begins His Ministry (4:12–25) (4:12–17) The beginning of Jesus’s ministry is presented in an A/B/A pattern. First, we are told that John has been arrested. Second, the new home of Jesus is placed within scriptural tradition. Finally, Jesus begins his ministry with the words of John. As with the introduction to John and the baptism of Jesus, this short pericope emphasizes a positive relationship with John. In fact, the author gives his arrest as the catalyst for the beginning of Jesus’s ministry. Rather than a rivalry between the two, the words of John are used by Jesus. An agonistic, honor-driven culture, this is noteworthy. While the message of Jesus is often in competition with that of the outgroup as portrayed throughout the gospel, it is not in competition with that of the Baptizer. The author describes Jesus’s move to Capernaum by the sea as a fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah. The language of fulfillment will continue throughout the gospel and is a point of debate for modern interpreters. While some understand the fulfillment of scriptural tradition to serve as a sort of first-century apologetic written to convince those outside of the Christ-following community that Jesus is the Son of God, I find that this fulfillment motif is used by the author to further integrate Jesus into the ongoing story of God’s activity in the world. Similar to the function of the genealogy, fulfillment references indicate to Christ-followers that Jesus indeed fits into God’s will as it has always been known. Likewise, by emphasizing that Jesus is integrated into the ongoing story of God, the ingroup receiving this text is also grafted into the story of God. Finally, Jesus’s fulfillment of the prophetic tradition emphasizes he is doing God’s will. In this case, Jesus interprets scripture to say that out of this region, the Messiah will come. Therefore, it is discerning and doing the will of God to make his home in Capernaum. (4:18–22) There are only two call stories in the Gospel of Matthew (cf. 9:9), and the study of individualism and collectivism shapes how they may both be understood. Since those who populate the gospel were collectivist, their collective or shared identity was most often more salient than any personal or individual identity. This means that their primary identity was established by their membership in a social group—namely, their family. When the author explains that they left the boat and their father and followed Jesus, he is asserting that there was an important change to their social identity. In addition to the social identity provided by their membership in their family, the call to follow Jesus would introduce an additional, new collective identity. In this short story, the author, then, invites the audience to consider their own identity as Christ-followers. (4:23–25) The author places a tremendous amount of information in this short section of text. Jesus is described as a teacher and a healer. The fame of Jesus is emphasized, setting the scene for the crowds that are gathered for the Sermon on the Mount that will immediately follow. Specific geographic locations are offered, providing possible evidence for those who wish to argue for a particular location of the addressees of the gospel. Perhaps most importantly, this is the first time that the author uses the phrase “their synagogues.” While John the Baptist has previously referred to the Pharisees and Sadducees gathered for baptism as a “brood of vipers” (3:7), this is the first explicit reference to a group boundary. In other words, the author contrasts Jesus (and his followers) with the Judeans and their synagogues. The reference here goes undeveloped, but the contrast between Jesus and the Judean outgroup with their synagogues and their particular understanding of righteousness will become a central literary motif in the gospel. 35

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The Sermon on the Mount (5:1–7:29) (5:1–12) When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain. Throughout the gospel, important events in the life of Jesus occur on mountain tops. Jesus was tempted on a mountain (4:1–11). Jesus will feed the five thousand on a mountain (15:29–39). And, he will be transfigured (17:1– 9), will be arrested (26:30–35), and will offer his great commission from a mountain (28:16). That he offers his first, extended teaching from a mountain fits this pattern. Here, the author may also be signaling a connection between Moses and Mount Sinai. While Moses received the Torah on a mountain, Jesus will offer his interpretation of the will of God. As we will see, however, Jesus has come not to replace the law, but to fulfill it (5:17). The proclamations of promise and warning in this section are commonly referred to as “beatitudes” from the Latin word beati that begins each sentence. Most often translated as “blessed,” variants are also used (e.g., “happy are the poor in spirit”). While some interpreters find that the beatitudes either emphasize the grace of God (e.g., God blesses the poor in spirit) or serve as an ethical exhortation (e.g., we are to bless the poor in spirit), many find that they serve the dual role of indicating God’s action and calling followers of Christ to act accordingly. Reading this section through the lens of the first-century Mediterranean cultural values of honor and shame, however, is a most helpful approach. The author’s use of “blessed” is honorific language. A culturally sensitive translation might sound like this: “How honored are the poor in spirit.” Such use of the term “honored” stands in contrast to the standard assumptions regarding social worth or value. In each case, the author indicates that God sees honor either in those who are not in a position to defend themselves (e.g., How honored are those who mourn, 5:4) or in those who refuse to take advantage of others (e.g., How honored are the merciful, 5:7). In each case, the author makes clear that God’s vision of honor is not consistent with the dominant culture. Furthermore, the author challenges Christfollowers to evaluate how they understand honor and to whom it is ascribed. This challenge is also meant to inform their collective identity. Employing social creativity, the author redefines what would typically be considered dishonorable characteristics as those that ought to hold an internal sense of status or prestige for the ingroup. For example, while others may view the act of mercy as dishonorable, this is to be understood as honorable within the community of Christfollowers. Similarly, while the very honor of Jesus will be repeatedly challenged throughout the gospel, his followers will redefine their sense of honor to align with the righteousness of Jesus. Matthew does not often make explicit the very real oppression of Rome and the threat felt by Jesus’s claim to authority. First-century readers, however, would likely have understood the Roman context behind much of the text. The beatitudes are one place where Roman abuse is evident. The author’s use of “poor” points to those who are economically poor, but also identifies those who are unable to maintain themselves due to the injustice of others. In other words, the poor were those who were socially vulnerable. The heavy taxation of Herod placed nearly everyone in this category. For the beatitudes to begin with the proclamation that God finds honor in those who are routinely taken advantage of would have been a proclamation of grace for the crowd and a threat to those who hold positions of power. A similar claim is made when the author notes that God honors those who hunger and thirst for righteousness and those who are merciful. While the beatitudes effectively upset the assumed understanding of honor, they serve two additional social functions as well. First, the beatitudes help to establish a shared set of values 36

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(or group norms) for the followers of Christ. Each statement of blessedness points to God’s will for the world. To act with righteousness, then, is to live in accordance with each. Second, the beatitudes conclude with words of hope for the audience of Matthew. Because of their collective identity as Christ-followers, they will be reviled and persecuted. They will have all kinds of evil falsely uttered against them on Jesus’s account (5:11). But into this situation, they are assured not only that they are honored in the eyes of God, but that their reward will be great in heaven (5:12). Inherent in both social functions is the polarity between compassion and violence, a reoccurring theme in the gospel. Compassion is to be an identity marker for Christ-followers, even in (perhaps especially in) the context of violence. (5:13–16) Twin metaphors follow the beatitudes, both of which help to establish the way in which righteousness functions in the gospel. The section begins with the declaration, “You are the salt of the earth.” This is followed with, “You are the light of the world.” No explanation is given or perhaps needed. Christ-followers are named as both salt and light. No action is required to become salt or light, they already possess this identity. With that said, being salt or light carries responsibility. A salt that has lost its taste is worthless and a light that is hidden is of no use. The metaphors, then, point to group membership and the expectations of membership. Every discussion of righteousness throughout the gospel will follow this pattern. Jesus is the Son of God, and therefore, he will do the will of the Father. The Christ-followers are the light of the world, and therefore, they must act accordingly and let their light shine before others. (5:17–48) In this section, Jesus offers a longer and more detailed discourse on the law than anywhere else in the gospel. It is not, however, our first introduction to the law in Matthew. The approach to the law that is outlined here was first on display in the birth story of Jesus. Joseph was described as a righteous man and the author invites all who encounter the story into his dilemma. Working with the assumption that Mary had committed adultery (he had not yet been told that she is pregnant by the Holy Spirit), he must decide what to do. If he reveals her pregnancy (and presumed adultery), she will bring shame to her family and will likely be the victim of an honor killing. If he conceals her pregnancy, he will be going against the law of the Lord (Deut 22:22; Lev 20:10). This dilemma makes clear that righteousness, or the fulfilling of the law, involves discerning the will of God in context and acting with faithfulness toward God and toward the neighbor. In other words, it is problematic to assume that the fulfillment of the law was not dependent upon context. Further, it is problematic to assume that one’s righteousness depended on fulfilling the law as it was commonly understood. With Mary’s pregnancy, Joseph’s righteousness is witnessed in his compassion, in his decision to protect the life of Mary and her unborn child over fulfilling the law as would be typically expected. Worded differently, Joseph acts with righteousness, and fulfills the law, by discerning that the will of God is to protect the life of Mary. The opening four verses (5:17–20) establish four approaches to interpreting both the law and scripture. Jesus begins with the proclamation that he has not come to abolish, but to fulfill the law (5:17). It is necessary to identify the difference between the authority of scripture and scripture as a source of justice. To fulfill the law, then, is to interpret scripture within a particular context so that it may facilitate justice. Next, Jesus states that the law will not pass away until all is accomplished (5:18). By describing the law as a present and ongoing means for discerning

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the will of God, Jesus affirms the authority of the Torah. This does, of course, present a problem. When will the law pass away? Does this refer to the end time or does this refer to a work of Jesus—namely, his death and resurrection? After emphasizing the authority of the law, Jesus proclaims that whomever does and teaches the law will be called great in the kingdom of heaven (5:19). With this, Jesus adds the teaching of the law to his discussion. Previously, righteousness was connected with practice, with the just application of the law. Here, Jesus notes that for his followers to be righteous, they must pass along the teaching of the law as he will model. Finally, Jesus concludes that the righteousness of his followers must exceed that of the scribes and the Pharisees (5:20). We have previously witnessed John the Baptist refer to the members of these groups as a brood of vipers and later we will encounter Jesus’s own harsh words of critique. While there is debate regarding the specific nature of their teaching, the context of this verse implies that their interpretation of the law did not facilitate justice as understood by Jesus. This introduction to the interpretation of scripture and the law highlights the identity of authority of Jesus. Regarding his identity, Jesus is defined again as the obedient Son of God. He honors the authority of God’s will as revealed in the Torah and will fulfill God’s will by teaching and practicing justice. Regarding his authority, Jesus makes clear that he is beholden to the Torah, but not to the authorized interpreters of the law. In other words, his claim of authority is a bold departure from that of the Pharisees or the scribes. He is the Son of God who will call his followers to discern how the law calls them to do the will of God. Such a call to righteousness will inform the social identity of his followers by defining them also as obedient children of God. They, too, are bound to the Torah and will fulfill God’s will by following the teaching and practices of justice as exemplified by Jesus. This will set them apart from, and at odds with, other Judeans who will reject or deny Jesus. After establishing four approaches to scripture and the law, Jesus uses six examples of a justice-oriented interpretation of the Torah. Commonly called the Antithesis, he teaches how the law relates to anger (5:21–26), adultery (5:27–30), divorce (5:31–32), oaths (5:33–37), retaliation (5:38–42), and love for enemies (5:43–48). In each case, some have argued that Jesus’s teaching is an intensification of the law (e.g., moving from adultery to lust). Such a reading, however, is not consistent with any known first-century community of Christ-followers. We have no evidence of followers of Christ who honored a more rigorous understanding of law. For example, there are no known communities who followed a more rigid reading of dietary regulations or sabbath observance. In short, while the language of Jesus might sound to modern readers like a more exacting reading of the law, this is not how they were understood by early Christian communities. Rather, each example is best understood within the context of the authority of scripture and its relationship with justice. For Jesus, the law must be interpreted within a lived context and must point the way to just behavior within community. (6:1–18) Jesus follows his teaching on scripture and the law by highlighting three acts: almsgiving (6:1–4), prayer (6:5–15), and fasting (6:16–18). While the NRSV uses the term “piety,” the Greek is better translated, “your righteousness.” In each section, he contrasts the expected righteous behavior of his followers with those of the hypocrites. Generally speaking, the word hypocrite simply means actor, but here it is likely used to indicate one who is pretending to act with righteousness. While the use of hypocrite may point to anyone who is inauthentic in their action, the connection between hypocrites and synagogues likely points to the Pharisees and scribes as 38

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used above (5:20). Of course, this connection is not made explicit, but does build upon the earlier use of “their synagogues” (4:23–25). With this comparison, Jesus is again emphasizing that the primary ingroup norm of righteousness serves as a boundary marker between the followers of Jesus and the unrighteous outgroup. So, how does Jesus describe the proper practice of “your righteousness”? To begin, each practice described was a traditional act for first-century Judeans. Jesus does not list them as practices that ought to be performed, but with the assumption that they are already a regular part of the lived experience of his followers. What is in question, then, is the manner with which they are/ought to be carried out. The first act of righteousness—that of giving alms—was a means of showing mercy. The giving of alms was an act of caring for the poor. An act of almsgiving that was intended to honor oneself through public recognition, rather than to aid those who have been victimized, is a hardly the fulfillment of the will of God. While there is evidence of the misuse and abuse of almsgiving, a specific example of the misuse of prayer is unclear. A variety of prayers were common and they were certainly performed in the synagogues, in public, and in private. If a specific unrighteous prayer practice cannot be identified, we may still draw conclusions regarding Jesus’s instruction for prayer. Similar to the giving of alms, prayer must not be performed as a means for acquiring honor. Rather, prayer that is deemed righteous is directed exclusively toward God and not others. Finally, Jesus addresses righteousness and fasting. Individual fasting was practiced, but would go unnoticed unless it was made public or brought to the attention of others. For a third time, Jesus emphasizes that public action performed in order to acquire honor was hypocritical. Fasting that is righteous is fasting that directs the individual toward God. In short, this section works to decenter both the notion of honor and the self. The reorientation is toward God and toward the good of the neighbor. (6:19–7:12) The Sermon on the Mount continues with a series of eight sayings: on earthly and heavenly treasures (6:19–21), on the healthy and unhealthy eye (6:22–23), on serving two masters (6:24), on worry about today (6:25–34), on judging others (7:1–5), on profaning the holy (7:6), on searching and finding (7:7–11), and the golden rule (7:12). While this series of eight teachings covers a variety of topics, they all deal with righteousness in daily life. Modern commentators present a wide variety of proposals regarding the interpretation of each saying (and how and if they are related to one another). But their unity and function for the social identity of Christfollowers is made evident in the transitional section that follows. Immediately after the eight teachings, Jesus urges his followers to “enter through the narrow gate” (7:13). He continues, “For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it” (7:14). This image of the gate provides insight into the boundary between his followers and those who are unrighteous. Since the identity of his followers is defined by their righteousness, they are the few who may pass through this narrow gate. They are the few who are able to discern and do the will of God. All others, represented earlier by the Pharisees and scribes, are among the many that are unable to enter. In turn, the image of the gate also serves as an interpretive tool for understanding the meaning of the eight previous sayings. In this case, each saying serves a dual role. They each urge the followers of Christ to remain vigilant in their righteousness, but they also serve as descriptions for the righteous ingroup and unrighteous outgroup. For example, “do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal [like the unrighteous outgroup does]; but store up 39

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for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal [this is the behavior of the righteous ingroup]. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (6:19–21). (7:13–29) The Sermon on the Mount concludes with four separate descriptions of the fate of both the righteous and the unrighteous: the narrow gate (7:13–14), a tree and its fruit (7:15–20), doing the will of the father (7:21–23), and the discerning and doing of all that is taught (7:24–28). Each of the four teachings describes in sharp contrast the righteous and the unrighteous. Here, three important observations can be made. First, the actions of the ingroup (the righteous) and the actions of the outgroup (the unrighteous) are the results of their identity. This is made clear in the saying “every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit” (7:17). In other words, it is not in the bearing of good fruit that one becomes a good tree, nor is it through the bearing of bad fruit that one is deemed a bad tree. Rather, one’s identity makes predictable their behavior. The followers of Christ are described as already being good trees. In turn, they are to continue to bear good fruit. Likewise, the unrighteous, the Pharisees and scribes, and all others who do not follow Christ are described as already being bad trees. In turn, they are known by the bad fruit which they bear. Second, entering the kingdom of heaven is predicated not upon behavior, but upon identity. Jesus explains that only those who discern and do the will of the Father will enter the kingdom of heaven (7:21). While modern interpreters may read this as a sort of works righteousness—that it is in the doing of what is just that one gains entrance in the kingdom—the context of the saying argues against this reading. While trees are known by their fruits (7:20), the fruit is only the product of the tree. In short, bad trees are incapable if producing good fruit. Or, the unrighteous are incapable of doing the will of God. Finally, Jesus concludes with the image of two houses, one built on a rock and one built on sand. This image ties the entirety of the sermon’s teaching together and makes clear the significance of both ingroup and outgroup identities, the rigidity of the intergroup boundary and the fate of the two contrasting claims of righteousness. Followers of Christ occupy a house built on a rock. They will be able to withstand any and all trials due to their identity in Christ. The unrighteous outgroup live in a house built on sand. What might look like a mighty house from the outside will experience a great fall. As if the words of Jesus were not enough to mark the severity of the contrast, the author of Matthew explains that Jesus taught as one having authority and not as “their scribes” (7:28). In the end, “their scribes” by their very identity are incapable of producing a teaching that will lead to righteousness.

Jesus as Healer (8:1–9:38) (8:1–17) With simplicity, the author signals the end of the sermon and the beginning of Jesus’s healing ministry. We are told that when Jesus came down from the mountain, a great crowd followed him. We immediately encounter three healing stories: Jesus cleanses a leper (8:1–4), Jesus heals a centurion’s servant (8:5–13), and Jesus heals many at Peter’s house (8:14–17). To best interpret these acts, we turn to insights from medical anthropology. Here, two models are particularly helpful.

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First, a differentiation may be made between “disease” and “illness.” A disease refers to a biomedical disorder that is a disruption to the way an individual functions. In the case of our first healing event, leprosy functions as a disease. It is a biomedical skin condition. Illness, on the other hand, is the term used to describe the socially recognizable meaning that is given to the biomedical condition, to the disease. Again returning to our first story, leprosy carries a social reality. The individual was no longer invited to participate fully in the community. Corresponding to the distinction between disease and illness is the distinction between forms of care—namely, curing and healing. To eliminate a biomedical condition is to cure the disease. To heal is to alter the social meaning that is ascribed to the biomedical condition. Second, a culture’s understanding of disease and illness (and, therefore, curing and healing) always occurs within a healthcare system. In this case, a “system” is the order or structure that is constructed by a culture to give meaning to this process. This includes all of the interrelated issues that surround health: beliefs, norms, values, rules, etc. Every culture operates with a healthcare system, with an understanding of what it means to be healthy and what it means to be well and the relationship between the two. In the case of the first-century Mediterranean world, it is helpful to draw a more complete picture of its healthcare system. To begin, there were both official and unofficial means of both curing and healing. In addition, there were both supernatural and natural means for this process. In the case of first-century Judean culture, the temple was the social location for official, supernatural healthcare. In other words, the rabbis were the agents of both healing and curing. There were, however, also official, natural healers who operated outside of the temple/supernatural structure (one might think of a modern medical community). Likewise, in the case of first-century Judean culture, there were unofficial, supernatural healers. These were those individuals who operated outside of official, temple practices. Finally, healthcare was also offered by unofficial, natural healers (one might think of practitioners of folk medicine). It is with these two models that we will interpret each of the healing events in Matthew. It will become clear that while there are many occasions for healthcare, they tend to follow the same or very similar patterns. Let us return, then, to Jesus’s cleansing of a leper. In this case, the leper approaches Jesus who is operating as an unofficial (he is not associated with the temple), supernatural (he claims divine authority, rather than utilize folk practices) healer. We may also observe in this story that Jesus cures the leprosy. The author’s use of term “clean” seems to indicate that the biomedical condition has been eliminated. Importantly, Jesus sends the former leper to show himself to the priest and to offer the gift that Moses commanded. In this case, it is the priest who has the capacity to declare the individual clean. This priestly declaration will serve the social function of healing and the former leper will be re-integrated into the community. Jesus engages in the act of curing two more times in this section. He cures the centurion’s soldier, and he cures many in Peter’s house. Here, three observations must be made. First, while Jesus initially engages in the act of curing, he will soon also become a healer with attention paid to the social realities of biomedical conditions. Second, the NRSV is not translated with these linguistic distinctions in mind. Therefore, it is up the reader to discern from context whether or not Jesus is engaged in the act of curing or healing or both. Finally, the control or power that Jesus has over illness also indicates his control or power over who has access to and is included in his community of followers. Throughout the gospel, he will cure non-Judeans, opening the way for their unexpected membership in the ingroup. 41

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(8:18–27) The string of healthcare events is interrupted with two short stories. The first emphasizes the nature of ingroup membership and the second makes a claim about the identity and authority of Jesus. In the first, a scribe approaches Jesus with a desire to follow him. The scribe refers to Jesus as “teacher.” In Matthew, this term is only used by outgroup members (with the important exception of Judas Iscariot). While we have not experienced any positive interaction thus far with scribes, there does not seem to be any reason from the context of the story to assume that this is an honor challenge. Indeed, this opportunity is utilized to emphasize the commitment necessary for ingroup membership. In this case, following Jesus is to take priority even over familial obligations. In the second event, the author indicates that Jesus has authority over nature. At various points in the gospel, creation acts in harmony with the story. At his birth, there was a star (2:2) and an earthquake accompanies the resurrection (28:2). In this story, it is not only creation acting in concert with the divine narrative, but it is made clear that Jesus as Messiah has authority over the winds and the sea. (8:23–9:8) The narrative returns to disease and illness with two stories: Jesus cures two Gadarene demoniacs (8:28–34) and Jesus both cures and heals a paralyzed man (9:1–8). Building upon the insights from medical anthropology above, two observations may be made with regard to these stories. First, the story of the two Gadarene demoniacs concludes with a description of the crowd’s reaction to Jesus. After hearing the remarkable story of the transferal of demons from two men to a herd of swine and of their subsequent death, the whole town rushed to meet Jesus. When they encounter him, they beg him to leave. By including this element of the story, the author indicates that the crowd recognized the authority of Jesus. Just as his authority was made known in his teaching (7:29), it is now also made known through his miraculous deeds. Second, the story of the paralyzed man is the first to include elements of both curing and healing. Jesus first declares that the sins of the man have been forgiven. The forgiveness of sins is a social act—an act of restoring an individual to the community. Further, it is an action that was thought to be the exclusive domain of the official, temple authorities. Included in the story is the expected response of the scribes: they declare that Jesus has committed blasphemy. In addition to the social act of healing, Jesus cures the man. He instructs the individual to stand up and walk. In this event, Jesus has become an unofficial (outside of the temple authorities), supernatural (claiming divine authority) agent of both healing and curing. (9:9–17) Through the call of Matthew (9:9), the act of dining with tax collectors and sinners (9:10–13) and the discussion of fasting and new wine skins (9:14–17), Jesus continues to redefine the notion of righteousness. With regard to the call story, Jesus integrates a tax collector into his group of followers and in so doing indicates that he is capable of righteousness. In other words, this agent of the Roman government is understood by Jesus as being capable of discerning and doing the will of God. Righteousness, therefore, is not limited to Judeans. Similarly, through the act of dining with tax collectors and sinners, Jesus makes clear that his mission is to fulfill the will of God. As the obedient Son of God, he does not view the world as it is traditionally categorized by temple authorities. The objection of the Pharisees makes clear that they do not believe that such individuals are capable of righteousness. Jesus, however, extends his invitation to all who are capable of hearing and doing his will. Finally, the disciples of John confront Jesus over the topic of fasting. This is the only occasion in the gospel where the ministry of John is described

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as being in possible opposition to Jesus. His response to their inquiry invites modern interpreters to debate the implication of Jesus’s discussion of time. If the experience with the earthly Jesus is likened to a wedding feast, what is meant by the time of fasting? Is this the time between his resurrection and a second coming? This section is best understood in the context of the wider discussion of righteousness. Here, Jesus likens himself to a new wine skin. Old wine cannot be placed into a new wineskin, only new wine can. In turn, an old understanding of righteousness is incompatible with the mission of Jesus. A new vision of righteousness is required. (9:18–34) Another set of healing stories follows. Here, a girl is restored to life and a woman is healed (9:18–26), two blind men receive their sight (9:27–31), and Jesus heals one who is mute (9:32–34). A reading of each event must integrate the insights from medical anthropology as modeled above (cf. 8:1–17), but several unique observations may also be made. To begin, this is the first time that an individual is resuscitated, or restored to life, by Jesus. The birth story of Jesus as a presumed honor killing introduced the theme of expected death and unexpected new life. In the case of the girl who has died, Jesus himself becomes the agent of unexpected new life. Next, there are two occasions when the report of Jesus’s activity spreads throughout the district (9:26, 31). This narrative detail highlights Jesus’s growing attractive presence for those who long for justice and his growing threat to those who do not recognize his authority. This opposition is evident in the words of the Pharisees at the conclusion of the third healing story. They declare that “by the ruler of the demons he casts out the demons” (9:34). As crowds continue to recognize that Jesus’s authority is from God, the Pharisees have labeled him as one who calls upon a demonic authority. This casting of Jesus as a social deviant serves as an example of the redefinition process which occurs in the opening section from the Sermon on the Mount (5:1–12). Here, with a challenge to his honor, his followers are forced to redefine their sense of honor to align with the example set by Jesus, rather than with the labeling of the Pharisees. (9:35–38) This short section serves as a conclusion for the ministry that has followed the Sermon on the Mount (8:1–9:38). Included in it is each of the elements that we expect at this point in the gospel. First, the author notes that Jesus taught in “their synagogues” (9:35), again highlighting both his teaching and the boundary between his followers and those of the unrighteous outgroup. Second, it emphasizes his healing and curing activities. Third, Jesus is described as having compassion for those who are harassed and helpless (cf. 5:3–12). While this is a loving and intimate description of Jesus, it is also a powerful political statement that points to Roman victimization of those in the region. Finally, with the declaration “the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few” (9:37), Jesus points to the mission of the disciples that will be detailed in the next section.

The Mission of the Disciples (10:1–42) (10:1–42) The tenth chapter of the Gospel of Matthew is an extended discourse between Jesus and his disciples. After providing a list of the twelve, Jesus describes the call of his followers in five parts: a statement of mission (10:5–15), a caution of coming persecutions (10:16–25), a warning of whom to fear (10:26–33), Jesus’s own explanation that he has come to bring not peace 43

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but a sword (10:34–39), and the rewards of a generous welcome (10:40–42). While the emphasis of this section seems to be the disciples’ call to mission, equal weight is given to describing the significance and impact of living as a follower of Christ. Jesus begins by commissioning his disciples to go to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. There is no explanation given for the exclusion of the Gentiles or the Samaritans. In the previous chapter, Jesus called Matthew to a life of discipleship and after being challenged for eating with tax collectors and sinners, he responded that he has “come to call not the righteous but sinners” (9:13). By including an agent of the Roman government among his group, limiting the mission to the lost sheep of the house of Israel may seem surprising. This, however, must be weighed against the great commission at the conclusion of the gospel where the disciple will be sent to “all nations” (28:19). Regardless of the reason for including only the lost sheep, the contrast between the two sending statements serves as an indication that perhaps the intergroup boundaries that are described in the gospel will ultimately become less rigid. This mission itself is similar to the ongoing ministry of Jesus. The disciples will proclaim the good news that the kingdom of heaven has come near. They will cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, and cast out demons (10:7–8). They are to receive no payment and only serve where there is welcome. The language throughout is polemical. For those who welcome the disciples, there will be health. For those who do not, there will be severe judgment. There are notable details throughout the sending. Here, we encounter the first occurrence of the work of the Spirit of God as a partner in Jesus’s ministry (10:20). Jesus refers to himself as the Son of Man (10:23). But it is Jesus’s warning that the disciples will be hated because of his name that is most important for the discussion of the developing social identity of his followers (10:22). If one’s social worth and sense of personal identity is informed directly by group membership, this warning indicates that following Jesus carries tremendous risk. In other words, while the followers of Jesus are called to redefine their understanding of honor to align with the righteousness of Jesus (5:1–12), there will be others who find the work of Jesus, and by extension the ministry of his followers, to be threatening. Jesus follows with a discourse on whom to fear. The disciples are instructed that they are not to fear those who can only take their lives. Rather, they ought to fear the power of God. Again using strong polemical language, Jesus states that he will acknowledge or deny those before God who acknowledge or deny him in his earthly ministry. Commitment to the ingroup and the impact that this may have within a family is the next contrasting statement. Jesus has come to bring not peace, but the sword, and this may be evident even between family members (10:35–38). In describing family fracture at every level, Jesus warns his followers that families may be divided over their relationship with him. While some members of a family may be Christ-followers, others may reject his example of righteousness. This section concludes with emphasis. “Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it” (10:39). In other words, while such division within a family is never to be sought or celebrated, those who maintain their obedience to God and act with righteousness will find new life in Christ (even while they may experience conflict within their family). Importantly, the message to the disciples is that this new life in Jesus does not end with persecution and death. He promises, “The one who endures to the end will be saved” (10:22). Furthermore, Jesus promises that for those that give their loyalty and devotion to him, he will give his devotion and loyalty (10:32). 44

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The Response to Jesus (11:1–14:12) (11:1–19) While we were invited momentarily to question the relationship between Jesus and the disciples of John (9:14–17), the author again emphasizes an intimacy in their connection. When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent his disciples to ask, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Jesus answers that his identity is made evident in his healing and curing activity and through his care for the poor and victimized. In other words, the identity of Jesus is revealed in his fulfillment of God’s will—through his obedient acts of righteousness. After this brief description of the identity of Jesus, the author uses the role and identity of John the Baptist as a transition toward the proclamation of judgment that will follow. In Matthew, John is Elijah, the central transitional figure between the old and the new, between “all the prophets and the law prophesied until John came” (11:13). This section is notoriously difficult for modern interpreters, but it seems that John as Elijah stands with Jesus at this critical moment, at a time when the kingdom of heaven is experiencing traumatic violence under the oppression of Rome. Furthermore, it is into this oppression that Jesus ushers in a nonviolent revolution. (11:20–30) This section may be subdivided into two contrasting readings. First, Jesus offers an announcement of judgment on Galilean cities (11:20–24). Second, Jesus offers rest to those who are weary and carrying heavy burdens (11:25–30). The announcement of judgment is based upon the observation that Jesus’s deeds of power have not lead to repentance. Here, the deeds of power likely refer to his previous healing and curing activities (chs 8–9) and repentance means a “turning toward God.” Together, they do not simply mean that those who have witnessed Jesus’s deeds should be moved to turn toward God. Rather, Jesus’s healing and curing activity is a display of his righteousness, and witnessing his commitment to discerning and doing the will of God ought to serve as a model for others to turn toward righteous living. The second section begins with words of thanksgiving for those who have repented. While there is juxtaposition between the wise and the infant, Matthew has previously described wisdom in positive terms (7:24–27). Therefore, the author is not glorifying ignorance, but is arguing against the notion that status or authority is necessary to discern the will of God. The call and potential to repent is available to everyone. This declaration shapes the identity and practice of the Christ-followers by again declaring that righteousness flows from their identity as obedient children of God rather than from any other notion of status. What follows is a description of the relationship between the Father and Son that builds upon the repudiation of status and authority. The relationship of Jesus with God is not that of an inspired leader with special knowledge or ability, but that of an obedient Son doing the will of his Father. And what is the action of the Son? It is to call all who are weary and carrying heavy burdens (11:28). These intimate words send us back to the beginning of this section. While there are those who have witnessed the great deeds of Jesus and have yet to repent, Jesus continues to offer his yoke. (12:1–21) Two challenges are made regarding Jesus’s sabbath activities. First, a group of Pharisees see the disciples of Jesus plucking and eating heads of grain on the sabbath and challenge whether this is lawful (12:1–8). Second, those gathered at a synagogue attempt to trap Jesus by asking him whether or not it is lawful to cure on the sabbath. Both stories are a told with 45

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ingroup-outgroup emphasis. In both cases, they represent competing claims of righteousness, which echoes of Jesus’s teaching in the Sermon on the Mount where he highlights the difference between the authority of scripture and scripture as a source of justice (5:17–48). In the case of both plucking heads of wheat and curing on the sabbath, Jesus affirms the authority of scripture but emphasizes that it must be both interpreted in context and work for justice. This emphasis on justice is exemplified in the curing of a man with a withered hand, an action which brings a sharp response by those in the synagogue. In addition, if scripture must work for justice, and scripture is necessary in discerning the will of God, justice is an essential component of righteousness. It will, therefore, be an important marker for the social identity of Christ-followers. In other words, the righteousness of the ingroup will necessarily include an attentiveness to justice. When Jesus becomes aware of the Pharisees’ desire to destroy him, he departs. A great crowd follows Jesus and he cures them all. The author connects these deeds of Jesus with the fulfillment of scripture. Namely, Jesus “proclaims justice to the Gentiles” (12:18). As witnessed in previous fulfillment texts, Jesus interprets scripture as the will of God and acts as the obedient Son to discern and do this will (4:12–17). In this case, Jesus understands that it is God’s will for Gentiles to experience justice. Therefore, for Jesus to be this hope for the Gentiles is to act with righteousness. (12:22–50) At this point in the gospel, there is a repetition of themes with a heightened response from outgroup members. On one hand, the curing of a demoniac follows a similar pattern as has been previously experienced, and Jesus has already been accused by the Pharisees of using the authority of the ruler of the demons to cast out demons (9:34). On the other hand, the response from Jesus indicates an increased need for defending his actions. Importantly, Jesus includes in his defense another description of the intergroup boundary. By stating that “whoever is not with me is against me” (12:30), Jesus defines the Pharisees as standing over and against him and, in so doing, standing against the Spirit of God. The strength of the intergroup boundary is reiterated with Jesus’s return to the image of the good and bad tree (7:15–20). The Pharisees have challenged the honor of Jesus by claiming that he uses the authority of Beelzebul to cure. Now, Jesus responds by calling the Pharisees a brood of vipers (3:7). In addition, he warns that on the day of judgment they will have to give an account for every careless word that they have uttered (9:36). The exchange between the scribes and the Pharisees and Jesus continues. They have challenged the honor of Jesus (he relies upon the authority of Beelzebul; 12:24) and he has offered a riposte (they are a brood of vipers; 12:34), so they escalate the challenge by demanding a sign. Jesus responds that as Jonah was in the belly of a sea monster for three days and nights, so will the Son of Man be in the earth. Jesus offers two explanations of this sign of Jonah. First, the expected death and unexpected new life of Jonah points to the coming death and resurrection of Jesus. Second, the repentance of Nineveh ought to serve as a model for all who hear Jesus; that they would repent and turn toward God. As if likening the scribes and Pharisees to the people of Nineveh isn’t enough, Jesus adds a story about the return of the unclean spirit. Upon finding that its home was put in order, the spirit invites seven other spirits more evil than itself to enter. Jesus likens this infestation of evil to “this generation,” a not-so-veiled reference to the very scribes and Pharisees who have challenged him (12:43–45). Jesus is still speaking to the crowds as the chapter concludes. Using the language of family, he announces that his mother and brothers are those who do the will of his Father in heaven. He

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has previously explained to his followers that discerning and doing the will of God must be the central defining characteristic of their social identity. In this case, all those who are committed to righteousness are his followers and are like family to him (10:34–39). This is also an example of the renegotiation of kinship evident in the gospel, creating space for non-Judeans to be included as ingroup Christ-followers. (13:1–43) The chapter division may create a sense of transition. Likewise, the narrative itself indicates a change of time and space. But in the following set of parables, Jesus picks up in the same place where he had left off. He has just contrasted good trees with bad (12:33–37). Now he will compare types of soil, after which he will keep with agrarian imagery comparing weeds with wheat. In both cases, his followers are contrasted with those who are unperceptive. With the parable of the sower, we encounter a different form of teaching from Jesus. The Sermon on the Mount emphasized the authority of scripture and the need to interpret the law as a source of justice. While Jesus has previously employed metaphors, the numerous parables that follow present a change in narrative style. In this parable, a sower throws seed in an extravagant manner. Rather than carefully planting where the soil is known to be good, the seed is offered freely regardless of its probable success or failure. As would be expected, the soil that falls upon rocky soil or among thorns does not flourish. In contrast, the seed that falls upon good soil brings forth a rich harvest. In response to the disciples’ inquiry about his use of parables, Jesus makes clear that they have been given the secrets of the kingdom of heaven. Like the bad soil that struggles to sustain life, there are others for whom this secret has been withheld. Parables, then, keep this secret from those who would not understand (or who are unable to discern and do the will of God). Jesus explains that in “seeing they do not perceive and hearing they do not listen, nor do they understand” (13:13). The ingroup and outgroup distinction is clear, but two observations may be made that inform our discussion of group boundaries. First, Jesus has previously compared the scribes and Pharisees to the people of Nineveh (12:38–42). In that case, it seemed that the possibility exists for members of the outgroup to hear and repent. In other words, it seems that the door was left open for bad soil to produce good fruit. In the case of the parable of the sower and with Jesus’s explanation of his use of parables, he returns to an understanding of an impermeable boundary. Second, Jesus explains that there have been righteous people who have longed to see what has been shown to the ingroup (13:17). Without explanation, this raises questions. Is Jesus referring to those who have lived and died before him? If so, how do they differ from those who have been positively included in his genealogy? Furthermore, Joseph was lifted up as a positive model of righteousness and his discernment of the will of God was obviously not informed by Jesus (1:19). In short, it is not clear why these people who have acted with righteousness are kept from the secrets to the kingdom of heaven. Following the discussion of the purpose of parables, Jesus offers an explanation to the parable of the sower (13:18–23). However, two contrasting interpretations of his explanation are possible. First, this explanation may signal that there is a possibility for any individual to hear the word and understand it. In favor of this reading is the connection between the scribes and Pharisees and the people of Nineveh (12:38–42). If Nineveh is able to repent, perhaps anybody can hear and understand the word of God. Going against this reading is the notion that some possess the knowledge of the secret of the kingdom of heaven and others do not (13:10–13). Second, 47

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this explanation may refer only to ingroup members and may, therefore, function as a call to righteousness. In other words, it may be an explanation given to those who are good soil to act, or produce, as good soil is meant to do. Following the explanation of the parable of the sower is a second, similar parable. Here, Jesus describes a field in which wheat produced from good seed grows next to weeds which were sown by an enemy. Here again, Jesus draws a distinction between his followers and those who do not discern and do the will of God. While the two exist together and may even be difficult to differentiate, they will be separated at harvest time. As with the parable of the sower, this parable is also explained (13:36–42). The explanation here, however, is hardly in question. The one who sows the good field is the Son of Man and the good seed are his followers, the children of the kingdom (13:36–37). The weeds are the children of the evil one and the enemy who sowed them is the devil (13:38–39). The language of Jesus, here, echoes that of the Pharisees who have previously accused Jesus of using the authority of the devil (9:34; 12:24). The parable represents an unmistakable and harsh ingroup-outgroup distinction, one that is based not upon differing interpretations of righteousness, but upon different figures of authority. (13:44–52) Three short parables follow: a treasure hidden in a field (13:44), a merchant in search of fine pearls (13:45–56), and a net that catches fish of every kind (13:47–50). While the first two do not receive any explanation, they emphasize the importance of identifying and doing what it right. This reading is supported by the explanation given to the third parable. Here, Jesus explains that those who are evil will be separated from the righteous. This has been the consistent theme since the Pharisees challenged Jesus and his disciples for plucking and eating heads of grain on the sabbath (12:1–8). After telling the three parables, Jesus asks his disciples if they understand. Upon hearing a positive response, he again draws a distinction between that which is new and that which is old. (13:54–58) After telling a series of parables that focus on ingroup-outgroup distinctions, Jesus returns to his hometown where he experiences a different sort of challenge. Those who presumably know him question the origin of his authority. Much is revealed in the question, “Is this not the carpenter’s son?” In the first-century Mediterranean culture of the gospel, it was assumed that the identity of an individual was known through their social identity. In the case of a son, he was known through the identity of his family and namely through the identity of his father. It is not an exaggeration to say that to know the father was to know the son and to know the son is to know the father. Those in his hometown, then, did not understand the incongruity that they were experiencing. How is it that the son of Joseph can teach with such wisdom and perform these deeds of power? With this short story, the author emphasizes that Jesus is indeed acting like his “father,” but it is not the father that those in his hometown expect. (14:1–36) At the beginning of the chapter, we meet a new Herod with an old and familiar way of handling a perceived threat. Just as King Herod (Herod the Great; 2:1–12) was quick to murder the infants of Bethlehem in an attempt to eliminate the one who was called “king” (2:16–18), Herod Antipas wishes to kill John the Baptist. Three important details are included in this short section. First, while the reference to Jesus as the resurrected John is a bit obscure, it does emphasize that Jesus and John had the same enemies. Second, Herod held off his murder of John

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for fear of the crowds. In other words, Rome was quick to kill a perceived threat or agitator, but they were also careful to monitor the social climate in order to prevent an uprising. The event reinforces the concern that Jesus, like John before him, will suffer death at the hands of a threatened Roman government. Third, this section is another example of the way that violence and compassion function as a basic polarity for outgroup/ingroup identity markers. In this case, the violent intentions of Herod Antipas stands in contrast with John the Baptist’s compassionate call to repentance.

Jesus and His Disciples (14:13–20:34) (14:13–36) After being told the news of the death of John, Jesus withdrew in a boat by himself. He is not left alone to grieve, however, for a crowd gathers. The compassion that Jesus feels for the crowd is now a well-established theme (5:3–12), as is his curing of the sick (see the many healing events in chs 8–9). What is striking about this account is the author’s emphasis on the crowd. Earlier in the chapter, Herod did not immediately put his threat, John, to death for fear of the crowds (14:5). We are now told that a great crowd follows Jesus even when he wishes to be alone. In this case, the crowd is both a symbol of the threat that Jesus poses to Herod and a symbol of the additional threat of a possible social uprising. A further juxtaposition is made between the reactions of both men to the crowds. While Herod fears the crowd and is an agent of death, Jesus has compassion on the crowd and is an agent of healing and new life. After curing the crowd, Jesus feeds them with just five loaves and two fish. Those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children. By feeding the crowd, he again shows compassion on those who are in need. Travel by boat marked the transition from the death of John to the healing and feeding of a great crowd, and again we experience an aquatic narrative transition. Jesus sends his disciples away in a boat while he remains to pray. As the disciples travel through the night in wind-tossed waves, Jesus approaches walking toward them on the sea. After initial fear, Peter and Jesus engage in an exchange that challenges the faithfulness of Peter. In an attempt to walk on the water toward Jesus, he begins to sink. Two details emerge from this story. First, Peter’s doubt highlights the necessity to remain faithful. In other words, faithfulness is not a static attribute of Christ-followers. One is not either faithful or unfaithful, but must constantly remain vigilant in faithfulness. One must keep their eyes fixed upon Jesus. Second, Jesus’s authority over nature through the walking on water and the calming of the wind led to worship from his disciples. Their declaration that Jesus is “truly the Son of God” (14:33) stands in tension with Herod’s growing fear (14:1–2). This section concludes with another reference to boat travel (14:34), another reference to crowds (14:35), and even more acts of compassion and healing (14:36). (15:1–20) The transition to a new chapter brings a return to the intergroup conflict between Jesus and the scribes and Pharisees. As we might expect from such previous intergroup exchanges, this section of text follows the structure of an honor challenge and riposte and centers again upon the question of righteousness. The author explains that the Pharisees and scribe came to Jesus from Jerusalem. It is common for interpreters to note that this is likely not a historically reliable

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detail, but instead points to the growing tension between Jesus and the leaders in Jerusalem. The challenge made regarding the washing of hands echoes the previous objections over the plucking and eating of heads of wheat on the sabbath (12:1–8) and curing on the sabbath (12:9–14). In this case, it seems that the issue of handwashing was neither an item of the biblical purity code (as were the previous objections regarding the sabbath) nor necessarily a matter of general practice (an objection to common hygiene). Rather, it seems to be a concern that was particular to the Pharisees. In the hands of the Pharisees, the challenge is formulated in terms of adherence to the traditions of the elders. But in the hands of Jesus, the riposte is formulated in terms of righteousness. He appeals to their inability to discern and do the will of God as made explicit in the commandments. Furthermore, Jesus explains that in their desire to uphold tradition they make void the word of God and in so doing prove their unrighteousness (15:6). Next, Jesus defines those things that defile (15:10–20). He does not, however, connect the issue of handwashing with defilement. Rather, he connects the words of the Pharisees with defilement. This strong objection is only intensified as Jesus explains that “every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be uprooted” (15:13). Moving from his favored agrarian images, he further describes the Pharisees as blind guides of the blind (15:14). After painting another rigid dividing line between himself (and his followers) and the Pharisees, he returns to the initial topic of handwashing. Serving as either an exclamation point or an exhale, Jesus simply reiterates that it is what proceeds from the heart that defiles and not eating with unwashed hands. (15:21–39) The change in geographical location invites a back and forth between Jesus and a member of a different (supposed) outgroup. In this case, a Canaanite woman approaches Jesus and asks that he show compassion toward her daughter and rid her of her demonic tormentor. Jesus initially ignores the request. The woman, however, continues her inquisition leading to the eventual protest of the disciples. When Jesus finally speaks, he explains that he was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. After again being asked for help, Jesus uses vivid language that conjures up a picture of hungry children and a skinny puppy. The imagery is jarring. While he has called the scribes and Pharisees a brood of vipers, comparing the woman and her daughter to dogs seems like an escalation of language. This practice of devaluing the other is a common technique used to highlight the distance between the ingroup and the outgroup. The woman, however, turns the offensive language back on Jesus as she points out that “even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from the master’s table” (15:27). Moved by her faith, Jesus heals her daughter. While some argue that this exchange encourages a change of course for Jesus, this is not so clear. Jesus has previously called a Roman tax collector to the role of disciple (9:9) and has dined with sinners (9:10–13). While he has instructed the disciples to limit their ministry to the lost sheep of the house of Israel (10:6), it is less clear whether or not Jesus limited himself to this group. In any case, this story shows that those who are able to discern and do the will of God is perhaps more broad than originally conceived. (15:29–39) After the shock of the preceding section, the story returns to the familiar. The transition is marked by another reference to water and another gathering of a crowd. Jesus again cures many. While at this point in the gospel the event seems almost predictable, the compassion shown to the crowd continues to remind us of the violence of Herod and his fear of the crowds. That Jesus is a growing threat to Roman authority is underscored by the final words of the

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pericope, “they all praised the God of Israel” (15:31). The language regarding the identity of Jesus continues to affirm his high status among the crowds and his potential threat to those who assume power. In the last chapter, the feeding of the great crowd occurred immediately after Jesus’s healing activities (14:13–21). The same pattern occurs here. After curing many people, Jesus has compassion for the crowd and feeds them with just seven loaves and a few small fish. In this case, there were four thousand men, besides women and children (15:32–39). As with the previous story of abundant food, this miraculous deed indicates again that Jesus identifies with the poor and victimized and seeks to meet their needs. Whether it is in the curing of their disease or the filling of their stomachs, Jesus discerns that it is the will of God to care for the crowds and that he works to do God’s will. In short, the righteousness of Jesus is again made known through his deeds of compassion. (16:1–12) The Pharisees and Sadducees approached John the Baptist for baptism and were labeled a “brood of vipers” (3:7), but this is the first time that Jesus has encountered the two together. Their encounter follows very closely the previous demand for a sign (12:38–42). First, the basic rules for an honor challenge are followed by both parties. There is a challenge (the demand for a sign) and a riposte (the Pharisees and Sadducees know how to interpret the sky but not the signs of the times). Second, a differentiation is made by the devaluation of the other. Namely, Jesus refers to the outgroup as an “evil and adulterous generation” (16:4). Finally, Jesus notes that the only sign will be the sign of Jonah. Here again, Jesus identifies both the Jonah-like experience of new life/resurrection and the Nineveh-like experience of repentance (12:38–42). While there is a break in time and location, Jesus continues to compare himself with the Pharisees and Sadducees. The discussion of yeast and bread recalls the feeding of the five thousand and four thousand. Here, Jesus explains to his disciples that they are fed by the compassionate word of Christ in a way that Pharisees and Sadducees are unable to do. Besides the additional example of ingroup-outgroup differentiation, this section includes an important emphasis on faith. While the disciples are wrestling with their own hunger, Jesus points to their lack of understanding (16:8). Labeled as a lack of faith, the experience of the disciples may be understood in one of two ways. First, for all of the intergroup comparison presented by Jesus, the disciples still have difficulty in differentiating the competing claims of righteousness. Second, when basic needs are not met, it is difficult to perceive the deeper implications of Jesus’s words. The latter option, of course, is supported by Jesus’s constant pairing of health service and feeding with teaching. (16:13–28) Jesus’s inquiry regarding his own identity and Peter’s declaration of faith stands in contrast to the previous unit. While Jesus differentiated his bread with the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees, the disciples imagined the literal bread that fills the stomach. In response, Jesus proclaimed that they had little faith (16:8). Here, however, Simon Peter declares that Jesus is the Messiah (16:16). The author included the messianic identity of Jesus in the very first words of the gospel (1:1) and this identity has been on display throughout the text. Peter’s declaration invites the topics of both “church” and ministry. Jesus explains that future followers of Christ will organize around the leadership of Peter. Further, Peter will possess the “keys of the kingdom of heaven” (16:19). He will, therefore, be a leader in discerning and doing the will of God. By pointing to the sign of Jonah, Jesus has already referred to his own death and resurrection. It is here, however, that Jesus speaks clearly about the events to come. With regard to issues of

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identity construction, it is important to note that Jesus describes his opponents as those who have a relationship with the Roman government and not the Judeans “in general” (16:21). While the language of comparison in the gospel often seems to lack the nuance that modern readers desire, it is evident here that Jesus understands that those who will be instrumental in his death are those who view him as a political agitator and threat. The response of Peter, of course, stands in contrast to his previous declaration of faith. This will be evident again at the end of the gospel where the note that “some doubted” is immediately followed by a great commissioning (28:16–20). Jesus concludes the discussion regarding his death and resurrection by calling his disciples to “take up their crosses and follow” (16:24–28). The disciples had previously been warned that following Jesus includes the possibility of violence and death (10:16–25). In some cases, they may be forced to take up actual crosses. But just as the chapter opened with images of bread and yeast representing competing forms of righteousness, the cross represents commitment to following Jesus. (17:1–13) Following his time with the disciples, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a high mountain. Once at the top, Jesus is transfigured. As he is shining like the sun, Moses and Elijah appear with him. This story stands out in the gospel as unique, and in fact its genre is not easy to classify. However, it does show some signs of apocalyptic literature (e.g., seer of a vision). The event also seems to blend elements of the Sinai theophany (Exod 24). Regarding meaning, the transfiguration event is best understood within its broader context of the gospel. Immediately preceding this event, Jesus shared with his disciples both the suffering that he would experience and the glory of the resurrection. This mountain top experience is a brief manifestation of that promised glory to come. In addition, this text speaks again to the identity of Jesus. First, the transfiguration serves as an echo of his baptism. Here, it is again declared that he is the obedient Son of God. Second, the glorification event emphasizes that the work of Jesus is indeed within a long tradition of discerning and doing the will of God. In other words, Jesus stands with previous exemplars of righteousness. Third, the function of the story is similar to that of the genealogy in that it places Jesus in to the ongoing story of God’s activity in the world. When the transfiguration has concluded, Jesus again explains that John the Baptist was Elijah (11:7–19). (17:14–27) This curing story follows a similar pattern to previous curing events. Jesus encounters a crowd. There is one in the crowd who suffers. And, Jesus has compassion upon the individual. What makes this story distinct is the failed attempt of the disciples to cure the boy of his demon. Earlier in the gospel, Jesus has challenged the disciples’ lack of faith (14:22–33; 16:5–12; and 16:21–23). Here, Jesus uses the words of Moses when he refers to them as a “faithless and perverse generation” (cf. Deut 32:5; and Matt 17:17). What is striking is that this language has previously been reserved for the Pharisees and scribes (12:43–45; 16:4). Does this mean that while righteousness is the behavior that is characteristic of the group, that ingroup membership (also) depends upon one’s faithfulness? Or, is Jesus saying that faithfulness is required to discern and do the will of God, for example, that even faith the size of a mustard seed invites followers to excel in righteousness? Following the curing event, Jesus is again alone with the disciples and for a second time foretells his death and resurrection (16:21–23). What makes the second telling of the suffering and glory to come distinct is the transfiguration witnessed by Peter, James, and John (17:1–3).

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While the story concludes with the note that they were greatly distressed, a small number of the disciples have already witnessed an awesome and perplexing display of the glory of the God. The narrative moves again from the intimacy of the group of disciples to another public challenge. Two observations may be made regarding the testing of the collector of the temple tax. First, Jesus’s subsequent question to the disciples reveals the connection between the temple and Roman authorities and their combined victimization of the Judeans through heavy taxation. Jesus asks, “Whom do kings of the earth take their toll? From their children or from others?” By correctly identifying the answer as “the others,” the disciples point to the corruption of Rome through the temple. They do not see the Judeans as their children, but as others that are to be exploited. Second, Jesus’s answer implies that they should not have to pay the tax, because they are in fact the children of the king. They are direct descendants of the rightful king of the temple. While they do pay the tax, it is only to avoid causing offense and being labeled as agitators. Here again, we witness the polarity of violence and compassion, between the Roman victimization of the Judeans and the compassion offered to the children of God. (18:1–14) As the disciples seek to understand who is greatest in the kingdom of heaven, Jesus responds in three ways: by using a child as an example for greatness (18:1–5), by offering a warning against causing a child to stumble (18:6–9), and in telling a parable of a lost sheep. As we have seen throughout Matthew, honor challenges were common in the first-century Mediterranean culture of the gospel. Interest in one’s honor status in relation to others, therefore, was a constant negotiation. Jesus answers that if one wishes to enter the kingdom of heaven, they must change and become like children. In the social world of Jesus and his disciples, children were the most vulnerable members of society. Infant and child mortality was high. When children did live, they often suffered from hunger and disease. Their social value mirrored this tenuous state. While they did function as future social security for their parents, they were not the beloved and innocent family members that modern readers might expect. Jesus’s answer, then, emphasizes that to enter the kingdom of heaven, one must humble oneself, or be willing to assume the role of the most vulnerable and victimized. For modern readers, this might sound like Jesus is telling people to stay in situations of violence or abuse. Jesus, however, is challenging his disciples to reconsider their assumptions about social worth and the expected behavior among people with different social status. Jesus continues by explaining the consequences of putting a stumbling block before one of these little ones (18:6–9). Here, he emphasizes that to continue to victimize or take advantage of those who are vulnerable is an egregious act. Finally, the parable of the lost sheep is told as a continuation of the discussion of children. Jesus notes that the disciples are to “take care that they do not despise one of these little ones” (18:10). The attention owed to even children is emphasized in the care shown by the shepherd toward the one sheep that is lost. In this case, Jesus concludes that it is the will of God that not one of those who are most vulnerable is lost. Righteousness, then, involves identifying with and caring for the poor, vulnerable, and victimized. (18:15–35) Jesus transitions from the discussion of greatness to that of sin and forgiveness. Similar to the three steps in the previous section, Jesus again responds in three ways: he outlines the process of confronting one who has sinned (18:15–20), he defines the limits of forgiveness (18:21–22), and he tells the parable of the unforgiving servant. Regarding the description of

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how his followers are to handle ingroup sin, Jesus lays out a process of confrontation beginning with the interpersonal and growing larger when necessary (18:15–17). The deliberation and adjudication that follows invites two possibilities. Either the individual hears and is retained or, after multiple attempts, they do not and are treated as a Gentile or a tax collector. There are two complicating factors to understanding this action. First, the discussion of reproving one who sins is placed within the context of the parable of the lost sheep. In other words, this discussion follows a parable in which Jesus emphasizes the lengths to which one must go in order to include one who is lost. Second, the relationship that the disciples are to have with Gentiles and tax collectors is not entirely clear from the context of the gospel. Jesus has previously eaten with tax collectors and sinners (9:10–13). Furthermore, the disciples will be sent to make disciples of all nations (28:19). It is fair, then, to question whether Jesus is describing the unrepentant sinner as an outgroup member (as thoroughly outside as the unrighteous or as the Roman victimizer) or as one who still, like a lost sheep, deserves care. Peter continues the discussion of sin by asking Jesus about forgiveness (18:21–22). When he asks whether seven times are enough he is not putting a limit on forgiveness but is using the number seven as being symbolically complete. In other words, Peter is asking whether his forgiveness must be perfect. Jesus could simply agree, but instead he explains that it must be “perfectly perfect.” This response builds upon the many calls to righteousness in which the followers of Jesus are to discern and do the will of God. Most specifically, the emphasis on perfection is a parallel to the call from Jesus for his disciples to be perfect as their Father in heaven is perfect (5:48). The parable that follows serves as an exclamation point to the discussion on forgiveness (18:23–35). It is not, however, only a call for ingroup care, it concludes by noting that God will imitate the forgiveness or withholding of forgiveness that is shown by Christ’s followers. (19:1–12) The chapter begins with a significant change in location. Jesus has left Galilee and has entered the region of Judea beyond the Jordan. He is traveling with his disciples to Jerusalem. While the location has changed, the first events in Judea follow a well-established pattern. Jesus is met by a crowd, indicating that he is well known outside of Galilee. He shows compassion and cures them. The author uses the crowds and curing to set up the longer exchange between some Pharisees and Jesus. This, too, repeats previous patterns of challenge and response. Here, the Pharisees press Jesus on the issue of divorce. Jesus uses language of devaluation by questioning their knowledge of the law. Their appeal to Moses is met with Jesus’s now-familiar call to both the authority of scripture and insistence that is must be interpreted as a source of justice. In this case, limiting divorce to cases of unchastity may serve to protect women and children who are often the most vulnerable and at risk of losing their social status and means for survival. (19:13–30) Jesus again identifies that it is to children such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs. He has previously used a child as a symbol of those who are the most vulnerable and victimized (18:1–5). While the transition between divorce and a discussion regarding the kingdom of heaven may seem unclear, in both cases Jesus indicates the need to show justice and compassion for those who are unable to defend or provide for themselves. Social scientists point to a second dynamic in this event. First-century Mediterranean culture is often referred to as a gossip culture. Information was gathered and shared through informal means. For example, women’s time for the gathering of water at a well was an occasion to talk to neighbors. Similarly,

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children were often the “gossip getters” for a family. As they would move freely in and out of homes, they were able to gather and share the personal happenings within a community. In this case, by declaring, “Let the children come to me,” Jesus may be indicating that he has nothing to hide. After this, a young man approaches Jesus with the question, “Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?” With this question, the discussion of the kingdom of heaven continues. Jesus begins by noting that the good deeds required are those that have been laid out in the commandments. Here again, Jesus makes a call to righteousness. It is the responsibility of any follower of Christ to discern and do the will of God. In the discussion of divorce above, Jesus pointed to the authority of scripture and its role as a source for justice. Here again, Jesus points to scripture as the basis of right behavior. After the young man responds that he has kept all of God’s commandments, Jesus instructs him to sell all that he has, give it to the poor, and follow him. With this final declaration, Jesus indicates that a complete commitment is required and that this will show itself in righteous behavior and caring compassion for the poor. (20:1–28) Jesus continues the description of the kingdom of heaven that began with his blessing of children (19:13–15) and continued through his exchange with the rich young man (19:16–30). Here, he tells a parable of the laborers in the vineyard. While the theme of the kingdom of heaven remains, the focus has changed. Previously, Jesus emphasized what his followers must do to inherit the kingdom—namely, act with righteousness through caring compassion toward the poor and victimized. Here, Jesus highlights the generosity of the landowner. While the workers do not perform equal service, the landowner pays them all the same. With this parable, Jesus identifies that just as his followers are to upset their understanding of social status by showing compassion to the poor, God shows loving justice regardless of status. To emphasize the connection between the previous discussion of the kingdom of heaven and the depiction of the kingdom in this parable, they both end with the statement that the last will be first, and the first will be last (19:30; 20:16). For a third time, Jesus foretells his death and resurrection (16:21–23; 17:22–23). While this is very similar to the two previous accounts, three observations may be made. First, Jesus explains that the purpose of their travel to Jerusalem is his suffering, crucifixion, and resurrection. Second, Jesus again makes clear that it is the Judean authorities with deep ties to Rome who will condemn him to death. Third, he states that it will be Gentiles who will shame and kill him. Taken together, Jesus identifies that it is those who understand him to be a political agitator and threat that will kill him. This is consistent with the death of John the Baptist (14:1–12). With the request of the mother of James and John, Jesus returns to the topic of the kingdom of God. Countering the appeal that one might sit at his right hand and one at his left, Jesus declares that such status is not his to give but is the work of the Father. To the remaining ten disciples who became angry at this request, Jesus returns to the theme of social status and servanthood. While there are those like the Gentiles who follow the script of social status, the followers of Christ will seek to serve with loving compassion. In other words, while the mother of James and John (and perhaps the brothers themselves) are concerned with such distinctions, the disciples are to seek to serve others at all times. (20:29–24) The healing event that follows is distinct in the Gospel of Matthew. The author makes clear that the two blind men are rejected and treated in a hostile manner by “the crowds.” Jesus,

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in turn, is concerned with the physical aspect of blindness. He cures them by restoring their sight. Jesus is also concerned with the social aspect of blindness. He engages with healing by restoring them to full membership in a community. In this case, however, they do not return as members to the crowd or community that had rejected them. Rather, they assume membership with the followers of Christ.

Authority and Righteousness (21:1–25:46) (21:1–17) The beginning of ch. 21 marks a significant transition in the Gospel of Matthew. Jesus has concluded his teaching and caring ministry in Galilee and is now about to enter Jerusalem. By sending his disciples ahead to secure a donkey and a colt, Jesus is again expressing his obedience to the will of God. By working to fulfill scripture, he once again shows that he is the righteous Son of the Father. It is worth noting that throughout Matthew, there has been a tendency toward doubling. Here, Jesus enters Jerusalem on a donkey and a colt. Similarly, the outgroup has often been described through doubling, for example, the scribes and Pharisees. The disciples were doubled; Peter with Andrew and James with his brother John. As Jesus enters the city, a very large crowd gathers. The crowd again indicates the growth and strength of his followers and his growing threat as a political agitator. Their shout of “Hosanna” is a shout of praise (21:9). Their declaration that Jesus is the “Son of David” recalls his genealogy and identifies him with a high-status group, which the Pharisees and other leaders are not a part of (21:9). The author indicates that the size of the crowd and the nature of their shouting throw the whole city into turmoil (21:10). The scene culminates in a question being asked by the whole city, “Who is this?” The crowd correctly answers, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee” (21:11). Jesus has previously asked his disciples who people thought that he was and their answers were varied (16:13–20), but here his identity is without question. Upon arriving in Jerusalem, Jesus enters the temple and drives out all who were selling and buying. There are three elements to this event that continue to escalate the division between Jesus and those who will plot against him. First, Jesus declares that the temple system is corrupt. While there is an active debate among modern interpreters regarding the temple cleansing—from the location of the tables to the focus of Jesus’s anger—Jesus’s words make clear that he understands this temple system as one that victimizes and robs from those who have come to worship (21:13). Second, Jesus again engages in the curing of those who are blind and lame (21:14). It is not clear whether or not they came to the temple to be cured (through official cultic practice) or whether they have come knowing that Jesus would be present (unofficial cultic practice). In either case, the act of curing compassion shown by Jesus occurs outside of the authorized temple healthcare system. Third, those in the temple also cry out, “Hosanna to the Son of David” (21:15). With these words, the crowd identifies that it is Jesus who is to be the recipient of these words of praise and it is he who functions with the power and authority of David. Taken together, Jesus is presented as a significant threat to the chief priests and scribes. (21:18–22) With the transition of a new day, Jesus returns to Jerusalem. He is hungry and upon finding a fig tree without fruit, he curses the tree and it withers. With this act, we recall his earlier

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teaching regarding trees and their fruit (7:15–20). Good trees are to produce good fruit, while bad trees are only able to produce fruit that is bad. In the case of the fig tree, Jesus shows judgment against a tree that is good that is not producing fruit worthy of its nature. In the cursing of the tree, Jesus offers another image for the way in which righteousness has been understood throughout the gospel. To be righteous is to discern and do the will of God. In other words, it is not enough to be a good tree (like the fig tree); a good tree must also produce. (21:23–22:14) When Jesus enters the temple for a second time (21:12), the chief priests and the elders of the people challenge his authority. Their test, as so many before, takes the form of an honor challenge and Jesus responds with a question. “Did the baptism of John come from heaven or was it of human origin?” While the question seems to focus on the ministry of John, it highlights the dilemma facing those who would plot against Jesus. They are again in the position of wishing to eliminate a political agitator, but fear the support and reaction of the crowds (21:46). While still considering their options, Jesus tells three parables: the parable of the two sons (21:28–32), the parable of the wicked tenants (21:33–46), and the parable of the wedding banquet (22:1–14). The first parable compares a son who declines to serve his father but changes his mind and performs his duty with a second son who agrees to act but does not. After the elders and scribes correctly identify that it is the first son who does the will of the father, Jesus offers a sharp critique of their unrighteousness. Even the tax collectors and prostitutes are able to discern and do the will of God. The elders and scribes, however, are neither capable nor willing to hear and do what God commands. Jesus follows with a second parable that depicts wicked tenants that eventually kill the son of a landowner in their pursuit of his inheritance (21:33–46). The elders and scribes correctly identify that the tenants are wretched and deserve a miserable death. Just as Jesus added a critique of the unrighteousness of the chief priests and elders to the first parable, he here labels his challengers as the builders who reject the cornerstone. When the chief priests and the Pharisees (at the beginning of the exchanges they were called elders; 21:23) realize that Jesus was speaking about them, they want to arrest him, but fear the crowds. Jesus concludes his exchange with the chief priests and elders (or Pharisees, 21:23; 21:45) with a third parable (22:1–14). In this story, a king throws a wedding banquet for his son but those who were invited will not come. In fact, they make light of the invitation and kill the king’s slaves. The king becomes enraged and repays violence with violence. The wedding goes on as planned, but the guests in attendance are those from the streets. The dialogue surrounding the parable does not follow the pattern set by the first two. Jesus does not ask his challengers to respond. Rather, the parable concludes with the words, “Many are called, but few are chosen” (22:24). These concluding words recall those from the Sermon on the Mount regarding narrow and wide gates (7:13–14). In both cases, Jesus emphasizes that the work of righteousness is rigorous and that few are able to accomplish the task. (22:15–46) After the three parables, the Pharisees plot to entrap Jesus. Significantly, they incorporate the Herodians into their plan. This is the first explicit reference to the involvement of Roman authorities (or supporters of Herod Antipas) in the plot to trap Jesus. Their challenge is simple; they question whether he believes it is lawful to pay taxes to the emperor. Since honor challenges are often met with a counter-challenge, we might assume that Jesus’s riposte functions

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as both an answer and a question. With this in mind, it is possible that Jesus’s response might have sounded something like this, “If you believe that the Emperor is due taxes, pay the Emperor. But, if you believe that all things belong to God, do not offer what belongs to God to Rome.” In this case, Jesus does not respond to the question of whether or not he pays taxes (17:24–27), but forces his challengers to consider whether their allegiance is to Rome or to God. The same day, the Sadducees also challenge Jesus (22:23–33). The Sadducees held the Pentateuch as their scriptural authority and believed that it did not testify to bodily resurrection. Their question, then, attempts to trap Jesus in two different ways. How does Jesus understand the authority of scripture? And, how does Jesus interpret scripture? Jesus responds with the same approach to scripture that he has throughout his entire ministry. He emphasizes the authority of the entire Torah (not limited to the Pentateuch) and holds that it must be interpreted in the context of daily living as a source of justice. For this reason, Jesus says that God is the God of the living, rather than the dead, for God is concerned first and foremost with justice and compassion. After the challenge by the Pharisees (22:15–22) and the test of the Sadducees (22:23–33), the two groups work together for a third contest (21:34–40). A lawyer among the group asks, “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest” (22:36). Jesus’s offers a twofold response: you shall love God and you shall love your neighbor as yourself. After this declaration, he explains that upon these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. And, indeed, this is the very foundation upon which his entire ministry has been built. In addition, he has shown loving compassion through healthcare activities and devotion to the poor. This commitment to loving others has served as a model for his followers. They are to be faithful to God and to live lives of righteousness, discerning and doing the will of Father. The exchange between Jesus and the Pharisees (the Sadducees are no longer mentioned) concludes with Jesus posing a question (22:41–46). He asks, “What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?” With this question, the trap is set. While they say that the messiah is the son of David, Jesus responds with a follow-up question that reveals that they are cornered. “If David calls him Lord, how can he be his son?” The event signals an important transition in the gospel. From this time forward, no one will again challenge Jesus with a question. Rather than engage in the exchanges of challenge and riposte, the plot to kill Jesus will be the sole focus. (23:1–24:2) Speaking to the crowds and to his disciples, Jesus offers harsh words regarding the scribes and Pharisees. Collected in one place is a sort of compendium of all that Jesus has said regarding his antagonists. He begins by explaining that they do not follow their own teaching (23:2–4) and when they do act it is done for public approval and status (23:5–7). This has been a reoccurring criticism of the Pharisees and scribes. In contrast with the compassion shown by Jesus, they seek adulation and honor and pursue such status with violence. Furthermore, they do not identify the law as a source of justice. They are unable to act with righteousness, both discerning and doing the will of God. Moreover, when they pray or give alms or fast, they do so to be noticed (6:1–18). Jesus concludes this first round of criticism by explaining that God is the only true authority and that all who humble themselves will be exalted, repeating the previous teaching that the first shall be last and last shall be first (19:30; 20:16). Jesus begins another round of criticism by devaluing the scribes and Pharisees, referring to them again as hypocrites (6:2, 5, 16; 7:5; 15:7; 22:18). This also marks the first of seven prophetic “woes.” In each case, the “woe” is not meant as a lament, but as a cursing. This use of woe may 58

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be contrasted with the blessings of the beatitudes (5:3–12) and with the lament over Jerusalem at the end of the chapter (23:37–39). The first cursing woe is directed at the inability of the scribes and Pharisees to open or enter the kingdom of heaven. Earlier in the gospel, Jesus announced that whoever does and teaches the law will be called great in the kingdom of heaven (5:19). In this case, the doing and teaching of the law must emphasize the law as a source of justice. This is the primary failure of the opponents of Jesus. They do not show compassion to those in need. The second woe builds upon the failures of the first (23:15). If the scribes and Pharisees are incapable of entering the kingdom of heaven, their attempts to convert others is in vain. Jesus explains that if his opponents cannot enter the kingdom of heaven, their converts are “twice as much children of hell” (23:15). With the third woe, Jesus accuses the scribes and Pharisees of being loyal to a corrupt temple system rather than being loyal to God (23:16–22). Jesus has repeatedly emphasized that care and compassion must be shown to the most vulnerable (18:1–5). The temple authorities, in contrast, victimize the most vulnerable through heavy taxation. Jesus returns to the theme of justice for the fourth woe (23:23–24). In this case, they occupy themselves with that of little or no consequence and ignore matters of the law. Here, Jesus makes explicit that the matters of the law are threefold: doing justice and showing mercy and faithfulness. In the end, he makes clear that it is impossible to do the law while neglecting others. In the fifth woe, Jesus combines two related criticisms of the scribes and Pharisees (23:25–26). On one hand, they are only concerned with what is visible, acting to be seen. On the other hand, they do not understand the true nature of defilement (15:10–20). Together, Jesus claims that they wash the outside of the cup, while the inside of the cup remains unclean, or, their actions appear to be righteous, but their hearts are filled with greed. The sixth woe is a repetition of the fifth with a change of image (23:27–28). In this case, it is the outside of the tomb that is whitewashed, while the inside of the tomb is full of all kinds of filth. For the seventh and final woe, Jesus makes an appeal to the way in which the scribes and Pharisees understand their own ancestry (23:29–36). They imagine that if they had lived during the time of their ancestors, they would have acted with righteousness and would not have called for the blood of the prophets. Jesus, however, explains that even now they are unable to live righteous lives and even today work to kill the prophets among them. After a long and sustained criticism of the scribes and Pharisees, including seven cursing words of woe, Jesus laments over the city of Jerusalem (23:37–39) and foretells the destruction of the temple (24:1–2). Jesus contrasts the tender image of his desire to act as a mother hen who gathers her chicks with the reality that this is the city that kills prophets. Jesus has named the corruption of the city and its temple. Finally, he declares that the house is left desolate. With this image, Jesus is likely making a reference to the destruction of the temple in 70 CE, but may also be referring to the figurative desolation done by authorities whose allegiance is to Rome. In addition, the desolate house may refer to the belief that with the destruction of the temple, God will no longer be present. Upon leaving the temple, Jesus tells his disciples that “not one stone will be left here upon another” (24:1–2). (24:3–31) The opponents of Jesus have concluded their challenges (22:46) and he has left the temple (24:1–2). What follows is a private conversation between Jesus and his disciples on the Mount of Olives. For those who identify five distinct discourses in the gospel, the teaching that follows is 59

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the fifth. This is also the longest sustained teaching in the gospel next to the Sermon on the Mount (5:1–7:29). Drawing heavily upon apocalyptic language, Jesus identifies the signs that will proceed his return and offers instruction on how to prepare for the final judgment. While this “judgment discourse” functions as a whole (24:3–25:46), it is presented in three movements. The first part is presented as the chronological sequence of events that will lead to the end of the age and the coming of the Son of Man (24:3–31). The second part is comprised of five comparisons and parables that discuss watchfulness and the kingdom of heaven (24:32–25:30). Finally, the third part returns to the chronological sequencing of the first, emphasizing the judgment of the nations (25:31–46). The first part begins with a warning to the disciples that they must not be led astray by those claiming to be the messiah (24:3–5). Jesus does not indicate who these people are or, in fact, if he has anyone in particular in mind at all. He may be referring to the scribes and Pharisees from the last chapter who “lock people out of the kingdom of heaven” (23:13–15). Or, he may be referring to some within the ingroup of Christ-followers who are or will present themselves as being the messiah. In either case, the disciples and all of his followers must beware of those who will make false claims. The warning against being led astray is followed by apocalyptic language. Here, Jesus points to wars and the rumors of wars, famines, and earthquakes as the beginning of the end of the age (24:6–8). In Jewish tradition, wars and famine and earthquakes will proceed the end times. So, the language here was likely familiar to the disciples and they would have understood that it is not meant to point to specific future events. Rather, Jesus makes clear that there is great turmoil and tension to come. The discussion regarding persecution that follows presents the same message, but in reverse (24:9–14). Jesus begins by warning his disciples that they will be tortured and hated (10:16–25). Through it all, they must be careful not to be lead astray by false prophets (24:11). The A/B/B/A pattern (false messiahs/wars and famine/persecution/false prophets) concludes with the warning that “the one who endures to the end will be saved” (24:13). This call for perseverance is consistent with Jesus’s ongoing discussion regarding righteousness, that it is necessary to be vigilant in both discerning and doing the will of God. The teaching that follows concerning the “desolating sacrilege” (i.e., the altar of Zeus constructed by the Syrians and placed upon the temple altar) follows a similar pattern to the one above, beginning with a warning of turmoil and concluding with a warning against false prophets (24:15–28). Jesus opens by referring to the prophet Daniel. His approach to the apocalyptic work is similar to the way that he understands the fulfillment of scripture. He views scripture as the revelation of the will of God. To fulfill scripture, then, is to do the will of God. In fulfilling scripture, he is modeling righteousness as the obedient Son of God. In the case of Daniel, the apocalyptic words point to God’s will or intent as it will be experienced at the end of the age. In this case, God’s judgment will come quickly and without notice. It will be so surprising that even those nursing infants will be caught unprepared. After this call for preparedness, Jesus warns his disciples again not to follow false messiahs or false prophets (24:23–24). The first part, or movement, of the judgment discourse concludes with the coming of the Son of Man. This language surely recalls countless images from the Hebrew Bible that would have informed how the disciples already imagined the end of the age (Isa 13:10, 13; Joel 2:10). With the coming of the Son of Man on the clouds of heaven, he will send out his angels to gather his elect (24:31). This ending is again an echo of the first half of this movement which concluded, “The one who endures to the end will be saved” (24:13). The angels will gather God’s elect, those who endured to the end, those who are known by their righteousness. 60

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(24:32–25:30) The second part of Jesus’s judgment discourse (24:3–25:46) moves away from apocalyptic warnings. Instead, he offers five teachings: the lesson of the fig tree (24:32–35), the necessity of watchfulness (24:36–44), the parable of the faithful or unfaithful slave (24:45–51), the parable of the ten bridesmaids (25:1–13), and the parable of the talents (25:14–30). If the first and third movements of the larger discourse emphasize the signs that will forewarn the end of the age, the focus here is on preparation for the final judgment. The lesson from the fig tree (24:32–25) falls near the center of the judgment discourse and seems to stand at odds with what came before and what comes after. Jesus has warned that the end of the age will come so quickly that “the one in the field must not turn back to get a coat” (24:18). Yet, here, an image from nature is used that is clear and predictable. Just as the fig tree slowly and in-season puts forth its leaves, indicating that summer is near, so will the signs of the end of the age serve as a caution for the coming of the Son of Man. Not only does this lesson advance the notion that the timing for the end of the age is something that can be perceived, but the tenderness of the image is striking. Jesus has warned his disciples about wars and the coming of wars, but now he turns to the gentleness of the fig tree. In his second teaching regarding preparation for the final judgment, Jesus pointes to the necessity of watchfulness. Building upon the warning, “about that day and hour no one knows . . . but only the Father” (24:36), he offers two comparisons. During the time of Noah, people engaged in the ordinary activities of life. The examples given are described in neither positive nor negative terms, but simply as the experiences of all people. They ate and drank and were married. While life moved along, Noah entered the ark. When the floods came, only those on the ark were saved. Similarly, the owner of the house does not know when a thief might arrive. Therefore, the owner must stay awake if they intend to protect their home and belongings. Jesus concludes in the same way that he began, by emphasizing that the Son of Man is “coming at an unexpected hour” (24:44). The third teaching of five compares a faithful with an unfaithful slave (24:45–51). While the previous teachings emphasized the unknowable time of the coming of the Son of Man, this lesson focuses on the righteous and unrighteous activity of leaders. Jesus invites his disciples to image a slave who treats others justly, showing caring compassion. When the master arrives unexpectedly and finds this slave at work, he will be blessed. Next, the disciples imagine a wicked slave who victimizes the vulnerable, beating them and engaging in acts of self-indulgence. This one will be treated as harshly as he has treated others. Here, Jesus returns to the language of hypocrites, implying that ruthless leaders will have the same unfortunate fate as the scribes and Pharisees (23:13–15). As the disciples imagine their own role as leaders among the ingroup of Christfollowers, they are warned that they must ceaselessly work for justice. The parable of the ten bridesmaids follows (25:1–13). In this lesson, Jesus returns to the theme of the need for watchfulness (24:36–44). He also returns to the idea that those who are prepared will be included, while those who are unprepared will be excluded. In the days of Noah, some found safety on the ark, while most did not (24:37–42). Likewise, those bridesmaids who were prepared with sufficient oil are welcomed to the wedding banquet, while those were unprepared are shut out. This parable is particularly striking in the context of the previous comparison between the faithful and unfaithful slaves. There, leaders were called to care for the community. Here, no compassion is shown by the fellow bridesmaids, nor is grace shown by the bridegroom. This fourth parable concludes with similar language to that of the second, “Keep awake therefore for you know neither the day nor the hour” (24:44; 25:13). 61

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The fifth and last teaching is the parable of the talents (25:14–30). With this lesson, Jesus again moves away from the theme of the unknowable timing of the coming of the Son of Man. Instead, the disciples are asked to envision whether or not they will engage fully in the ministry to which they have been called. In the parable, three slaves are given talents; five, two, and one. Talents do not refer, as it might in English, to skill or ability. Rather, a talent is an absurdly high amount of money. The slaves that received the five and two talents risked what had been entrusted to them. This risk paid off as they each doubled their money. The slave who received one talent did nothing, resorting only to burying the money. When the man returns, he blesses the slaves who grew their talents and curses the slave who did not. While the language of the parable is quite dissimilar to the calling and commissioning of the disciples (10:5–15; 28:16–20), there seems to be some harmony of intent. The disciples have been entrusted with the ministry of Jesus. This is hard work and will involve great risk. However, in the face of probable persecution, they are to act with confidence and faithfulness. (25:31–46) With “when” and “then” language, the third and final movement of the judgment discourse (24:3–25:46) returns to the chronological sequencing of the first (24:3–31). Here, Jesus provides a lengthy depiction of the judgment of the nations. This is the last teaching opportunity for Jesus and it serves as a perfect summary of his emphasis on righteousness. All of the nations will gather before their king. They will be separated, like sheep and goats. Those on the right will be told, “Come, you that are blessed by my father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you” (25:34). Further, they are called the “righteous” (25:37). Their ingroup membership, their invitation to the kingdom of heaven, and their righteousness is reflected in their caring compassion, in their acts of justice. Those on the left will be told, “Depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels” (25:41). They will be called the “accursed” (25:41). Their place in the outgroup, their exclusion from the kingdom of heaven and their unrighteousness is reflected in their lack of compassion, in their inability to act with justice. Finally, Jesus makes clear who is to be the recipient of this justice. It is to the least of these, the vulnerable and victimized, that the righteous will show kindness and grace. With this, the teaching of Jesus is complete. The lines between ingroup and outgroup, between righteous and unrighteous have been drawn.

Conflict and Death (26:1–27:66) (26:1–13) The events beginning with the plot to kill Jesus (26:1–5) and running through his burial (27:57–66) may be divided into three broad themes: (1) the plotting of the outgroup, (2) the obedience of Jesus, and (3) the threatened righteousness of the disciples. The narrative moves freely between the three; from the unrighteousness of the authorities to the righteousness of Jesus to the temptation of his disciples to deny and betray. To read and interpret the interplay between the themes, one must enter into the tug-and-pull between the multiple forces at work. With the plot to kill Jesus, the unrighteous opposition is the first to act (26:1–5). The chief priests and the elders have been opposed to Jesus throughout his ministry and here they are gathered in the palace of the high priest, Caiaphas. The named opponents and the location indicate that those who are plotting the death are the unrighteous leaders who are working with Roman

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authorities. Their plan echoes the earliest plot against him, where King Herod killed the children of Bethlehem in an attempt to eliminate the infant Jesus (2:16–18). It also resembles the death of John the Baptist, where another perceived threat to Rome was killed (14:1–12). Here again, the crowd works for and against Jesus. It is the crowd that indicates the popularity and threat of Jesus. It is also the crowd that keeps his opponents from taking immediate and decisive action. The scene moves from the plot of the opponents to the action of Jesus and his followers (26:6–13). In this case, we experience both the obedience of Jesus and the confusion and fear of the disciples. As a woman anoints Jesus with costly ointment, she correctly identifies this as a holy time. She symbolically readies him for burial. His willingness to accept the anointment signals that he understands and plans to accomplish the will of God. The disciples, however, do not understand. Masked as an eagerness to show compassion to the poor, they object to the act. They are acting as the unrighteous, as those who are unwilling and unable to discern and do the will of the Father. Their objection is only the first example of the tenuous nature of their faith. (26:14–30) The confusion of the disciples over the anointing of Jesus gives way to an experience of full betrayal (26:14–16). Judas, one of the twelve, moves from the ingroup of followers to the outgroup of opponents. He approaches the chief priests who are already plotting to kill Jesus and offers his service to their plan. In this short account, the once clear line between follower and opponent is blurred. He will not be the only one to cross this line. Throughout the events that lead to the death of Jesus, the narrative moves freely between the plotting opponents to the threatened righteousness of the followers of Christ. On the first day of Unleavened Bread, the disciples gather for the Passover (26:17–30). During the meal, Jesus warns that one of the twelve will betray him. In the midst of the meal, Jesus institutes the Lord’s Supper. In the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup, Jesus announces that this meal is given for the forgiveness of sins (26:28). This is the first mention in the gospel of the relationship between the body and blood of Jesus and forgiveness. Up until this point, Jesus has announced that he will suffer, die, and will rise again. But, in the meal, his body and blood are framed as a means of grace. (26:31–46) As Jesus and the twelve continue to celebrate the Passover, he announces that they will all become deserters (26:31–35). Jesus has previously warned that one would betray him, but now all undergo the process of devaluation. The boundary between the ingroup and the outgroup will become a liminal space, a blurred area where faithfulness will be tested by fear and greed. While Peter challenges him, Jesus offers a sharp riposte. Peter will deny and reject Jesus three times. The narrative continues to capture perfectly the tested righteousness of the ingroup. Jesus and the twelve travel to Gethsemane. Retreating further with Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, Jesus prays. The prayer of Jesus again indicates that he is indeed the obedient Son of the Father. He has discerned the will of God, and although it is a difficult path that alone he would not choose to travel, he will follow God’s will and not his own (26:39). The disciples again occupy the now fluid boundary space. They wish to show righteousness, to stay awake, and pray. But, sleep is the sign of their inability to do the will of God. (26:47–56) Into the quiet scene of prayer intrudes Judas with a large crowd from the chief priests and elders of the people. Throughout the gospel, crowds gathered around Jesus to hear him teach

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and to be cured and healed. Now, a crowd is gathered for his arrest. The implication is that this crowd negates the rioting power of the crowd of Jesus-followers. Furthermore, as the disciples show a growing inability to act with righteousness, the strength of the unrighteous crowd is surely overpowering. The contrast between Jesus and the outgroup is sharp, one man standing against a crowd. The contrast between the righteousness of Jesus and the threatened righteousness of his disciples is also made clear. While Judas betrays him with a kiss, Jesus responds with a willingness to follow the will of God (26:50). While those with Jesus wish to fight, Jesus again responds that his arrest and death is the plan of God. In other words, those with Jesus wish to employ the violence that has been associated with the outgroup throughout the gospel, but Jesus continues to serve as an exemplar of compassion. The scene culminates with Jesus lifting up his own obedience to God. Surely he could call upon God to fight the opponents, but he will undergo suffering in order to fulfill scripture, in order to fulfill God’s plan (26:54). With the arrest of Jesus, all of the disciples desert him and flee (26:56). The once clear boundary between righteous and unrighteous is now obfuscated. (26:57–75) From his arrest at Gethsemane, Jesus is taken to Caiaphas, the high priest, in whose house the scribes and elders have gathered. From a historical perspective, there are many questions concerning the trial that follows. For example, it is doubtful that either trials at night or trials during Passover were permitted. Furthermore, it is doubtful that the Sanhedrin could rule in capital cases. Perhaps most importantly, the implication that the high priest, the scribes, the elders, and the council represented the whole of Judea is dubious. In fact, the gospel itself has repeatedly depicted these authorities as a “brood of vipers” that is not committed to doing justice. With that said, this account is certainly the culmination of the many conflicts between Jesus and the unrighteous authorities. Moreover, in this trial Jesus does not deviate from his consistent obedience to God. Jesus will not negotiate his identity or authority under their terms or oaths, his identity and authority may only be understood through his unwavering commitment to doing the will of his Father. Throughout the trial, Peter has watched from the courtyard (26:69–75). At three different points, he is asked whether or not he is with Jesus. In response to each inquiry Peter denies their relationship. While Jesus will not negotiate his identity under the oaths of his opponents, Peter takes oaths to deny his own identity as a Christ-follower. In the end, Jesus has remained obedient to God, while Peter has failed to maintain his obedience to Jesus. (27:1–26) When morning came, the opponents from the previous night’s trial hand Jesus over to Pilate, the Roman governor (27:1–2). Interrupting this scene is the account of the suicide of Judas (27:3–10). The telling of his death involves two possible beliefs regarding ingroup boundaries. First, Judas repents of his sin (27:3–4). The last time that we encountered the language of sin and forgiveness was during the institution of the Lord’s Supper. Jesus sat with Judas, knowing that he would be betrayed, and proclaimed that his body and blood was given for the forgiveness of sins (26:14–30). Here, the betrayal of Judas was instrumental in the death of Jesus, yet the death of Jesus would be instrumental in the very act of forgiveness desired by Judas. While it is unclear whether Judas indeed received forgiveness, allowing him to move again from unrighteousness to righteousness, the second belief regarding boundaries suggests that he was the recipient of God’s grace. The second approach to ingroup boundaries is evident in the beliefs and actions of the

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outgroup opponents. The chief priests and the elders use the thirty pieces of silver to purchase land to be used as a graveyard for foreigners. Is this another example of their inability to discern and do the will of God? Do they believe that it is the will of God to limit grace, forever labeling some as “foreigners”? Or, does the grace of God serve to welcome even sinners? If so, it is again the chief priests and elders who are depicted as the unrighteous, while Judas is again made righteous through the forgiving act of the death and resurrection of Jesus. However one decides to interpret the forgiveness of Judas, it is doubtful that Matthew would here, and only here, depict the actions of the chief priests as righteous. The action returns to the trial of Jesus before the Roman governor (27:11–14). Recalling the events of the previous night, Jesus again refuses to define or defend his authority and identity through the judgment or standard of others. It is only through his obedience to will of God that the righteousness of Jesus is revealed. Since it was the custom, during the festival of Pentecost, to release a prisoner for the crowd, Pilate offers the choice between a notorious prisoner and Jesus (27:15–23). The juxtaposition between the two is evident in their names. Barabbas literally means “son of the father” (bar/son; abba/father). The crowd then will choose between the “son of the father” and the “Son of the Father.” The chief priests and scribes appear again as the opponents of Jesus and persuade the crowd to release Barabbas, sentencing Jesus to death. In response, Pilate hands Jesus over to be crucified (27:24–26). While Judas symbolically washes his hands of this event, this action is taken to prevent the rioting of the crowds. Here again, we recall the death of John the Baptist. In both cases, the men were described as threats to Rome, but concern for the crowds made a decisive decision for death difficult. (27:27–66) The road to the death of Jesus begins with mockery (27:27–31). Crucifixion was a relatively common act and was always intended as both a display of public shaming and an act of execution. The event is told in vivid detail. The location is provided, Golgotha. The soldiers gamble for his clothes. Two bandits are crucified with Jesus. Most importantly, the entire account again emphasizes the obedience of Jesus. He does not act to save himself, nor does he defend himself in any way. He accepts both the humiliating acts of shaming and excruciating acts of death in order to fulfill the will of God. During his death, creation again testifies to the identity of Jesus. While his birth was made known through a star (2:1–12), his death is mourned by darkness and the shaking of the earth (27:45; 27:51). His last words were, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Even here, the obedience of Jesus is emphasized. He has been obedient to God, even unto death. It will not be until the resurrection that God’s will, and God’s faithfulness to Jesus, is fully revealed. Following his death, the body of Jesus is wrapped in clean linen cloth and laid in his own new tomb which was sealed with a great stone. To prevent the theft of the body, the chief priests and the Pharisees petition Pilate for a guard to watch the burial site. Pilate again distances himself from the event, commanding that they are responsible for securing the tomb. (28:1–15) After the sabbath, as the first day of the week is dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary go to the tomb. With this, the gospel includes women who have faithfully followed Jesus. Matthew is thoroughly a product of the first-century Mediterranean world, and as such, it is highly patriarchal. The male disciples and male followers have been privileged throughout the text. But with this detail, we are provided a glimpse into the reality of Jesus’s life and ministry.

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Women have been present throughout, serving as silent witnesses of righteousness. Upon their arrival, a great earthquake accompanies an angel who rolls the stone away from the tomb. Creation again testifies to the work and will of God (a star at birth, 2:1–12; darkness and the shaking of the ground at this death, 27:45; 27:51). The appearance of the angel resembles that of the transfigured Jesus (17:1–13). His appearance is like that of lightning and his clothing as white as snow. While the guards shake with fear, the angel commands the women to be unafraid. The angel invites the women to look into the empty tomb and declares, “He is not here; for he has been raised” (28:6). As the women travel quickly back to the gathered disciples, they encounter the risen Jesus. He greets them. And falling to the ground, they grab hold of his feet and worship him. Jesus instructs the women to tell “my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me” (28:10). With this intimate, familial language, Jesus indicates that while they had denied, rejected, and abandoned him, they have been fully restored as members of the righteous. Such familial language is also an echo of the renegotiation of kinship that has been evident throughout the gospel (12:46–50). The men and women who have followed Jesus throughout his ministry are compassionately identified as brothers and sisters. In addition, righteousness is reframed in this exchange. Throughout the gospel, righteousness has been defined as the ability and willingness to discern and do the will of God. But in his resurrection, Jesus has been transformed and in so doing, righteousness is transformed. The women travel to Galilee and some of the guards travel to Jerusalem. They report to the chief priests all that has happened. The chief priests and elders are again depicted as unrighteous. Still unwilling and unable to identify the will of God, they devise a plan to conceal the events of the resurrection. With this short account, boundary lines are again emphasized. While the meaning of righteousness has been transformed in the resurrection, there remains a boundary between the followers of Christ and those who work to deny the will and work of God in Jesus. (28:16–20) The gospel concludes with a (re)commissioning of the disciples (10:5–15). Gathered on the mountain to which he had directed them, the eleven encounter Jesus. When they see him, they worship him. Importantly, the gospel includes the doubt of some (28:17). Where previously in the gospel this doubt may have indicated unrighteousness, here it is not presented as a barrier to discerning and doing the will of God. The inclusion of doubt signals again that in the resurrection, the meaning of righteousness has been transformed. Even with doubt, the disciples will be sent to continue the ministry of Jesus. The commission begins with a declaration of authority. All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Jesus. In turn, Jesus gives authority to the disciples. They are to make disciples of all nations, baptizing them and teaching them. During their first commissioning, the disciples were instructed to “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). In contrast, the mission is no longer limited. The disciples are to go to all nations. It is not only the audience that has changed, but also the nature of baptism and the teaching of Jesus. Previously, there had been a baptism of repentance (3:13–17; 4:17). Now, the baptized are put in relationship with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Previously, the teaching of Jesus focused on the discernment of God’s will for the justice and care of the vulnerable and victimized. Now, it will also include the promise of the forgiveness of sins in the Lord’s Supper and the proclamation of the resurrection. The commissioning, and the gospel as a whole, concludes with the promise that Jesus will be with his followers always, to the end of the age. 66

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References Betz, Hans Dieter. The Sermon on the Mount. Hermeneia. Edited by Adela Yarbro Collins. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995. Esler, Philip F. “An Outline of Social Identity Theory.” Pages 13–39 in T&T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London: Bloomsbury, 2014. France, R. T. The Gospel of Matthew. NICNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007. Hogg, Michael A. “Social Identity Theory.” Pages 3–17 in Understanding Peace and Conflict Through Social Identity Theory. Edited by Shelley McKeown, Reeshma Haji, and Neil Ferguson. Peace and Psychology Book Series. Edited by Daniel J. Christie. Switzerland: Springer, 2016. Luz, Ulrich. Matthew 1–7. Hermeneia. Edited by Helmut Koester. Translated by James E. Crouch. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007. Luz, Ulrich. Matthew 8–20. Hermeneia. Edited by Helmut Koester. Translated by James E. Crouch. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001. Luz, Ulrich. Matthew 21–28. Hermeneia. Edited by Helmut Koester. Translated by James E. Crouch. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2005. Marohl, Matthew. Joseph’s Dilemma: “Honor Killing” in the Birth Narrative of Matthew. Eugene: Cascade, 2008. Marohl, Matthew. Unexpected New Life: Reading the Gospel of Matthew. Eugene: Cascade, 2012. Nolland, John. The Gospel of Matthew. NIGTC. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005. Pilch, John J. Healing in the New Testament: Insights from Medical and Mediterranean Anthropology. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2000. Wilson, Walter T. Healing in the Gospel of Matthew: Reflections on Method and Ministry. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2014.

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Mark Rafael Rodríguez

Introduction Reception of Mark We can scarcely overestimate the importance of Mark, the earliest of the extant Gospels. And yet, the earliest receptions of Mark are ambiguous, perhaps even ambivalent. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke provide the earliest evidence of Mark’s reception, but it is not quite clear what that evidence means. Both Matthew and Luke are often read as “improvements” on Mark, whether of its incomplete narrative (it lacks stories of Jesus’s birth and resurrection, and its accounts of Jesus’s teachings are thin), its rough Greek, or its inadequate Christology. Luke especially is prone to be read as a corrective to Mark’s chaotic narrative, though on balance the Third Gospel does not give the impression of correcting or rebuking his sources. When we ask, then, if Matthew and Luke admire and imitate Mark’s singular achievement or compete with and replace Mark’s inadequate narrative, the answer is unclear and subject to varying responses. Papias, the second-century bishop of Hierapolis, is no more conclusive than Matthew or Luke: “Mark became Peter’s interpreter and wrote accurately all that he remembered, not, indeed, in order, of the things said or done by the Lord. For he had not heard the Lord, nor had he followed him, but later on, as I said, followed Peter, who used to give teaching as necessity demanded but not making, as it were, an arrangement of the Lord’s oracles, so that Mark did nothing wrong in thus writing down single points as he remembered them. For to one thing he gave attention, to leave out nothing of what he had heard and to make no false statements in them” (Papias, apud Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.39.15 [LCL]). On the one hand, Mark lacks “order” and reflects Peter’s ad hoc, extemporaneous recollections. On the other hand, “Mark did nothing wrong (ouden hēmarten; lit.: ‘he did not commit any sin’) in thus writing.” Mark may say things roughly and leave much unnarrated, but his is, in Papias’s view, a fulsome and truthful Gospel. In light of readers’ conflicting views of Mark, its influence on the construction and maintenance of Christian identity has always been problematic. Mark has been “the Gospel on the margins” throughout the church’s history and was overshadowed by its larger counterparts: Matthew, Luke, and John (see Kok). When, in the nineteenth century, scholars concluded Mark was the oldest of the canonical Gospels and a written source for two of them, its proximity to Jesus thrust it into the spotlight. Contemporary interest in Mark as a narrative began to blossom with the 1982 publication of David Rhoads and Donald Michie’s Mark as Story. In just a few decades, the shortest Gospel has come to be widely recognized as a creative and sophisticated story with its own vision of Jesus and what it means to follow Jesus.

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Authorship We have thus far used the word Mark primarily to refer to the Gospel of that name. But was the author named Mark? Our evidence is inconclusive. Some scholars reject outright that the Gospel was written by someone named Mark; others accept the tradition that Mark, a one-time companion of Paul and of Peter (see Acts 12:25–13:13; 15:36–39; Col 4:10; Phlm 24; 1 Pet 5:13), was the author. Francis Moloney suggests the author was someone named Mark, though maybe not any of the Marks mentioned in the New Testament (Moloney, 11–12). Without more conclusive evidence, our knowledge of the Markan author must remain tentative.

Audience Similar ambiguity plagues our efforts to know anything about the original audience(s). Markan scholars associate the text with an urban center, whether Rome in the west or Alexandria or Antioch in the east. Some argue for a predominantly gentile audience (e.g., on the basis of the explanation of Jewish customs in Mark 7:3–4), while others find evidence of a strong Jewish contingent (e.g., on the basis of the Aramaic phrases in 5:41; 7:34; 15:22, 34). Perhaps all we can say is that Mark was written in a city of the Roman Empire, probably for readers who already professed faith in Jesus (whether those readers were ethnic Jews or not).

Date We lack conclusive evidence for when Mark was written, though most scholars date it near the Judeo-Roman war (66–70 CE), either during the buildup to or during the war (65–70 CE) or its immediate aftermath (71–75 CE). Again, the evidence is inconclusive. In 2002, Mark Goodacre argued, “what evidence we do have points generally in the direction of a date no later than 70 for Mark” (Goodacre, Case, 23). Ten years later he had been convinced otherwise: “the case for a post-70 dating for Mark is strong” (Goodacre, Thomas, 160–66 [161]). The development in Goodacre’s position provides a helpful snapshot of scholarship in general: the Gospel of Mark is dated around the Jews’ war with Rome, but it is difficult to be more precise than this.

Major Theological Themes Mark’s Gospel touches on a number of important theological themes, from the forgiveness of sinners, the inclusion of gentiles, and Jesus’s compassion for women and children, to wealth and poverty and the parousia. Two themes, however, have commanded particular attention: the identity of Jesus and discipleship. The opening of Mark’s Gospel identifies Jesus as “Christ, the Son of God” (Mark 1:1), and this identification is repeated on multiple occasions (1:11; 3:11; 5:7; 8:29; 9:7; 14:62; 15:39).

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Even so, Jesus’s identity in Mark remains a regular problem for characters in Mark’s narrative. (This problem has been discussed for over a century under the rubric “the messianic secret,” though the usefulness of this rubric may be fading in recent scholarship.) Galilee’s ruling classes do not know what to make of Jesus (6:14–16), nor do Jesus’s closest associates (4:41). Peter is the first Markan character to confess Jesus as the Christ (8:29). Jesus, however, tells his disciples not to tell anyone (8:30), and it becomes clear the disciples do not rightly understand Jesus’s messianic identity (8:31– 33; 9:38–41; passim). Though a blind beggar and a crowd on pilgrimage acclaim Jesus (see 10:46– 52; 11:8–10), the ambiguity of Jesus’s identity is never really resolved within the narrative. Jesus’s disciples are especially prone to error in Mark. They fail to understand or to trust Jesus (e.g., Mark 4:13, 40; passim). They often compare unfavorably with other, often nameless, characters (e.g., 5:25–34). And yet they remain with Jesus throughout the narrative, up until his arrest (14:50–52). Even the failure to remain with Jesus after his arrest, however, is not final; the angel who declares Jesus’s resurrection also anticipates the disciples’ restoration—including Peter’s—to Jesus’s presence (16:6–7). Despite getting so much wrong, the disciples are never tragic characters. Readers identify with the disciples’ proximity to Jesus, if not always their conduct.

Social Identity Approach Both of these issues relate directly to the focus of this volume. Mark’s narrative has clear significance for the internal conduct of the ingroup of Jesus’s followers and its interactions with outgroups. Our discussion of Mark, however, will focus on how Mark forges a distinctive Jewish identity in light of the Christ event. On one hand, Mark focuses the story of Abraham, Moses, and David on (or better, through) Jesus the Messiah. On the other hand, Mark draws gentiles into that story, grafting them (if we can evoke Paul) into and making them participants of Israel’s story. Christians have often read Mark as the creation of a new identity (viz., a Christian one), but Mark does not show any awareness of such a thing as “Christianity.” New Testament scholarship has a penchant for using the word transformation to describe how Jesus and his earliest followers related to Israel’s heritage. Mark, however, uses a different word: fulfillment (Mark 1:15; 14:49). One facet of identity research that illumines both Jesus’s identity and the identity of his followers (“discipleship”) is reputation theory (see Rodríguez, “Reputation”). A person’s reputation is not simply a matter of gathering the facts of their biography; as a social phenomenon, reputation refers to way those facts are fitted into a publicly available framework and used to establish a variety of other social phenomena (social mores, taboos, differentiation of an ingroup from outgroups, etc.). The Gospel of Mark provides a “reputational narrative” of Jesus’s life and teachings, which both forms the community of Mark’s audience and informs of them of the salient past that guides them in the present.

Literary Structure The literary structure of Mark’s Gospel eludes precise description. Even so, certain elements find common agreement. Most scholars identify an introductory unit in 1:1–15, and the five

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pericopae of 2:1–3:6 are almost always recognized as a single structure. Most scholars also identify a transition in the middle of the Gospel, whether at 8:22 or 8:27 or 9:2 (we will push this transition back to 8:10). We find another transition at Jesus’s arrival in Jerusalem (11:1–10), which introduces a section focused on the temple (Mark 11–13). Finally, Mark 14–15 seems to be a distinct unit. None of this amounts to a clear outline of Mark’s Gospel, but any such outline will need to account at least for these elements. As such, our discussion of Mark will reflect these insights in the headings below.

Commentary Identifying Jesus (1:1–15) (1:1–3) Reading the Gospel of Mark is, at its most basic, an act of recognition, whereby the person of Jesus is brought into proper position vis-à-vis sacred tradition, intragroup beliefs and mores, and intergroup competition and interaction. That recognition, however, hardly happens linearly. Mark’s opening sentence, found in 1:1–3 (Watts, 55–57), announces, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, as it is written in the prophet Isaiah: See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight’” (NRSV; the punctuation has been altered in light of Watts’s argument). The Markan audience is immediately brought into the group that knows Jesus’s identity (he is the “Christ, the Son of God”) and his relation to Israel’s prophetic traditions (“as it is written . . .”). As the Gospel progresses the narrative’s characters will either come into this same knowledge (e.g., Peter and Bartimaeus) or will not (e.g., Judas and Pilate), but the audience remains firmly within the narrative’s ingroup. Any act of recognition requires a considerable body of embedded knowledge that is socially mediated. As British social anthropologist Paul Connerton explains, “prior to any single experience, our mind is already predisposed with a framework of outlines, of typical shapes of experienced objects. To perceive an object or act upon it is to locate it within this system of expectations” (Connerton, 6). Mark 1:1–15 establishes—or perhaps takes for granted—its readers’ “framework of outlines” in terms of Israel’s prophetic traditions. The main purpose of 1:1–15, then, is to locate Jesus within this framework. The Gospel’s opening sentence explicitly mentions “the prophet Isaiah” and invokes its authority as sacred writ (“as it is written”) in order to align the prophet John with the voice that cries out in the wilderness (Isa 40:3). The Isaianic tradition announced God’s judgment against Israel and Judah and the surrounding nations (Isa 1–39) before anticipating YHWH’s return to Zion, the restoration of the people, and the turn of the nations to worship Israel’s God (Isa 40–55). The sectarian community at Qumran also defined themselves with reference to Isa 40:3: “when these become members of the Community in Israel according to all these rules, they shall separate there the way of Him; as it is written, ‘Prepare in the wilderness the way of ****, make straight in the desert a path for our God’” (1QS 8.12–14; Vermes). In the DSS, the realization of Isaianic prophecy took the form of sectarian life in the wilderness. The protocols, behaviors, and patterns of thought at work among the Qumran sectarians comprised what Martin Jaffee calls 72

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a “text-interpretive tradition,” by which he means “a body of interpretive understandings that arise from multiple performances of a text . . . [and] come to be so closely associated with public renderings of a text as to constitute its self-evident meaning” (Jaffee, 8). From the perspective of social identity theory, text-interpretive tradition refers to the social and cultural scripts that differentiate members of the ingroup from all other outgroups. While the importance of Isa 40:3 for both the Qumran sectarians and the followers of Jesus might suggest a point of connection between the two groups, their very different text-interpretive traditions broadens the social space between them. Simply put: when they read Isa 40:3, they hear two very different texts. What does the author of Mark hear in Isa 40:3? First, he identifies this text and its fulfillment in John the Baptist as “the beginning of the gospel,” the story of Jesus’s life and teachings. Second, he hears Israel’s broader prophetic tradition of promise, failure, judgment, and renewal, as suggested by the conflation of Exod 23:20 and Mal 3:1 and the inclusion of both in the ambit of what “is written in the prophet Isaiah” (Watts, 89–90). The opening citation in 1:2–3, then, evokes the entire Israelite narrative of covenantal promise and expectation of fulfillment. It is more than eschatological, looking forward to a glorious future. It also evokes the ingroup’s memory of who they have been and, consequently, who they are now. (1:7–11) John’s baptismal ministry and preaching is one of preparation, preparing the Judeans for YHWH’S return to Zion. Mark, however, blurs the lines of John’s preaching (or takes advantage of an existing ambiguity). John announces: “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit” (1:7–8). In prophetic and Second Temple Jewish traditions, God alone pours out his Spirit (Webb, 122–23), so the figure anticipated in 1:7–8 must be God himself. However, immediately after John announces “one who is more powerful than I,” Mark mentions Jesus’s journey from Nazareth of Galilee and his baptism by John in the Jordan (1:9), followed by the theophanic descent of the Spirit upon Jesus and the voice from heaven declaring, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased” (1:11). The dove and the voice, visible and audible to Jesus and to Mark’s readers but perhaps not to anyone else, confirm the status of Mark’s readers as members of the ingroup. The baptismal theophany positions readers to evaluate properly the responses to Jesus exhibited by characters through the remainder of the Gospel (see Middleton, 187). Following his baptism, Jesus is driven out into the wilderness for forty days, being tempted by Satan and attended by angels. Again, the narrative evokes the memory of Israel’s origin story, though surprisingly it does so as a photographic negative. Whereas Jesus left the lush area of the Jordan to spend forty days in the wilderness, the Israelite spies sent by Moses left the wilderness to spend forty days in a land flowing with milk and honey (Num 13). Upon the return of the spies, the faith and courage of the people fail, and YHWH determines that the whole wilderness generation will perish before the people enter the land (Num 14). Even this early in the Gospel, the reader has been prepared to suspect that Jesus’s faithfulness to YHWH will also be a photographic negative to the wilderness generation’s unfaithfulness. (1:14–15) Jesus’s public ministry begins after John’s arrest. With the period of preparation over, Jesus returns 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’” (Mark 1:14–15).

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As those already incorporated into the ingroup of Christ’s followers, Mark’s readers do not experience the pull of Jesus’s imperatives (“repent and believe in the good news”). The effect of the narrative, rather, is to align the reader with Jesus, conscripting the reader into the gospel’s proclamation, rendering them co-workers with Christ in announcing the fulfillment of the time and the arrival of the kingdom.

Ingroups, Outgroups, and All Israel (1:16–3:35) Once Jesus returns to Galilee, he immediately begins to draw attention to himself. This section of Mark comprises three main movements. In the first (1:16–45), Jesus experiences increasingly positive reception, gathering around himself both close associates (= disciples) and interested crowds. In the second (2:1–3:6), Jesus encounters increasing opposition from outsiders. And in the third (3:7–35), Mark signals the restoration of Israel around Jesus, with one’s response to Jesus determining “insider” or “outsider” status within the restored people. We will discuss each of these movements in terms of ingroups, outgroups, and all Israel, respectively. (1:17) Upon returning to Galilee, Jesus immediately calls two sets of brothers, saying, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people” (1:17). Both sets of brothers immediately leave their fishing nets and follow Jesus. Though no explanation is given for the brothers’ curious willingness to leave everything and follow Jesus (see 10:28), the four disciples join the reader as Jesus’s companions through the rest of the narrative. We will see, however, that the disciples are not (yet) privy to the readers’ knowledge of Jesus’s identity. (1:21–45) The remainder of Mark 1 chronicles Jesus’s rapidly growing reputation (Collins, 181–82). The collection of four stories in 1:21–38 tell the story of a single day, beginning on the morning of the Sabbath and running through the next morning. Jesus enters a synagogue and begins teaching. Mark relates very little of the content of Jesus’s teaching, though he invokes Jesus’s status or role as a teacher over two dozen times. That status occupies Mark’s attention, as is evident in this first scene: Mark notes twice the assembled Jews’ astonishment/amazement at Jesus’s teaching, especially its “authority” (1:22, 27). We get the impression from this first public scene that Mark conflates the roles of teacher and exorcist, since Jesus’s authority to command unclean spirits is a characteristic of his “new teaching” (1:27). The narrator then explains that Jesus’s reputation spread in the aftermath of his debut in the synagogue. Reputation is a social phenomenon, a “shared, established image” that is “embedded within social relations, and as a consequence . . . is connected to the forms of communication embedded within a community” (Fine, 2–3). Here, Jesus’s reputation is embedded not in some fledgling Christian community; there is, as of yet, no such thing. Jesus’s reputation is “spread throughout [the Jewish community in] the surrounding region of Galilee” (1:28). As a result, the Jews of Capernaum and beyond are attracted to Jesus, such that we can say without any qualification that Jesus enjoys an unambiguously positive reputation among them. (1:32–34) After sunset (and so, after the end of the Sabbath, on the first day of the week), “the whole city was gathered around [Simon’s] door,” entreating Jesus to heal their sick and cast 74

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out demons (1:32–34). As before (see 1:25), Jesus restricts the demons’ speech. Strangely, they seem to have access to the same information as the ingroup formed by the Markan narrator and his readers but as yet unknown to any of the characters within the narrative (viz., “they knew him”; 1:34). This raises the suggestion that the dividing line between insiders and outsiders is comprised not of “knowing Jesus” but of something else. (1:35–45) Jesus retreats from the crowds in the darkness of the pre-dawn morning “to a deserted place, and there he prayed” (1:35). This is the first time we find Jesus without the disciples and/or the crowds. Once the disciples find him, Jesus announces that he must “go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also” (1:38). The peripatetic, itinerant mode of summoning the people to repent and believe the gospel (recall 1:15) was a necessary aspect of Jesus’s mission (“for that is what I came out to do”; 1:38). His intention to visit the neighboring villages is frustrated, however, after the cleansing of a man with a skin disease (1:40–45). Despite being admonished not to say anything to anyone, the leper “began to proclaim it freely” (1:45). As a result, the crowds swelled to such an extent that Jesus was prevented even from entering the Galilean towns. This completes the first movement. Jesus began the section alone, “proclaiming the good news of God” (1:15). Having summoned a handful of disciples, he first fills synagogue, then a house, and ultimately whole towns with crowds coming out to be healed, cleansed, and/or set free. Thus far, the Jesus-movement is an ingroup with no outgroup, whose only opposition are the demons who, despite having insider knowledge as to Jesus’s identity, are powerless to resist his astonishing authority. (2:1–3:6) The second movement of this section comprises the five controversy stories of 2:1–3:6. The series of controversies begins with Jesus teaching in a crowded house. As he’s teaching, a paralyzed man is lowered through the roof in front of him. Rather than healing the paralyzed man, Jesus says to him, “Son, your sins are forgiven” (2:5). This causes “some of the scribes” who were in the house listening to Jesus to complain to themselves, silently, “Why does this fellow speak in this way? It is blasphemy! Who can forgive sins but God alone?” (2:7). The scribes’ unspoken complaint is clearly a challenge to Jesus, though we should note that, in the context of the narrative from Mark 1, the scribes in the story are present with Jesus to hear his teaching. In other words, Jesus’s opponents originate from within the circle of those who were attracted to him, even if only mildly so. In the same way, opposition to Jesus and his followers in the second and perhaps the third stories arises from within the circle of those who eat with Jesus. The opposition in the fourth and fifth stories arises in public spaces, whether out in the fields (2:23–24) or in the local synagogue (3:1–2). In this section, opposition to Jesus moves progressively away from the center of Jesus’s ingroup, a progression that is dramatically embodied in the Pharisees’ departure from the synagogue in 3:6 and associating themselves with the Herodians (= supporters of Herod Antipas). The most conspicuous aspect of opposition to Jesus in this section must be its culmination in a conspiracy against Jesus. This has posed something of a problem, since we are only at the beginning of Mark 3 and Jesus will not be arrested, tried, and executed until Mark 14–15. From the perspective of social identity theory, which invites us to focus on the development of group and individual identity vis-à-vis others (“insiders” as well as “outsiders”), the effect of Mark’s

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narrative poses no problem at all. The early threat to Jesus draws and even brightens the line between those who follow and/or are healed by Jesus and those who oppose him. By the end of 2:1–3:6, a paralytic man has had his sins declared forgiven and his legs restored, Levi and his sinful associates have dined with Jesus, God’s beloved son, and a man with a withered hand has been healed. Contrast these with the scribes, Pharisees, and Herodians who have set themselves in opposition to God’s well-pleasing son. These controversy stories do more, however, than establish the outgroups who will serve as Jesus’s opponents through most of the rest of the narrative. In this section, Jesus accomplishes one of the major functions of the Mosaic cultic system: forgiveness of sins. In the opening pericope, Jesus sits in a crowded house in Capernaum and declares a man’s sins forgiven. The scribes’ objection that God alone can forgive sins is probably not that Jesus equates himself with God but that he “bypasses the procedures established by God for forgiving sins and challenges . . . the authority of the officials who have the right to carry out those procedures” (Collins, 185). Jews sought forgiveness through procedures laid out in Torah, procedures that ran through the Jerusalem temple and the cultic system. Jesus, however, acts outside that system. A similar dynamic is at work in the second story, in which Jesus eats with sinners and tax collectors and declares himself the “doctor” who heals their “sickness” (2:15–17). In neither story does Jesus obviate the Mosaic covenant; in both stories Jesus accomplishes the benefit extended to Israel through Torah. Jesus’s proper relationship to Torah is immediately significant in the third story, in which Jesus casts himself in the role of the bridegroom and his followers as the wedding guests. As we saw earlier, John announced the imminent return of YHWH to Zion. The period of waiting and anticipation for this return “is fulfilled” after John’s arrest (1:14–15), though “Jesus seems not only to proclaim the immediacy of the [Isaianic New Exodus] but also to effect it” (Watts, 119 [emphases added]). In Jesus’s response to the question about his disciples’ failure to fast (2:18–22), he likens himself to “unshrunk cloth” and “new wine,” both of which pose challenges to established patterns of faith and practice. Jesus’s teaching and practice is unshrunk and new “because he announces that the ‘time’ is fulfilled and the kingdom of God has drawn near” (Collins, 200), not because “Judaism” has become obsolete. (3:7–35) The third movement drives home this last point. We noted above that Mark portrays Jesus’s relation to Torah and other symbols of Judaic identity in terms of fulfillment rather than transformation. That fulfillment is on full display in the aftermath of the series of conflicts in 2:1–3:6. Despite the conspiracy to destroy Jesus in 3:6, “a great multitude from Galilee” continue to flock to Jesus, and the people “came to him in great numbers from Judea, Jerusalem, Idumea, beyond the Jordan, and the region around Tyre and Sidon” (3:7–8). The geographical references should pique our interest, especially since up to this point Jesus’s reputation has filled but not gone beyond Galilee. In addition to the Jewish territories of Galilee and Judea, Mark mentions regions to the south (Idumea), east (beyond the Jordan), and north (the region around Tyre and Sidon). Jesus’s reputation has filled the whole land of Israel, evoking the territory controlled by the twelve tribes of Israel. Some commentators see in 3:7–8 a suggestion that Jesus transcends Jewish boundaries to attract and incorporate gentiles among his followers (Moloney, 75). This judgment, however, is premature. Mark will indeed push Jesus out among the gentiles, but he does not so push Jesus here. Here, the Markan Jesus restores the divided and scattered tribes of Israel, curing their sick and casting out unclean spirits from among them. 76

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Mark underscores this restoration in the following paragraph, where Jesus “went up the mountain”—this phrase is as evocative in Jewish covenantal theology as is “I have a dream” in American Civil Rights discourse!—and summoned some of his disciples to join him. Here, up on the mountain, Jesus “appointed twelve, whom he also named apostles, to be with him, and to be sent out to proclaim the message, and to have authority to cast out demons” (3:14–15). The designation of these followers as “apostles” (apostoloi) suggests a change in role, from being “students” (mathētai, “disciples”) to being emissaries. Thus, we see that these disciplesnow-apostles are commissioned for a threefold task: (i) accompanying Jesus, (ii) preaching, and (iii) casting out demons. The link between the twelve disciples and the twelve tribes of Israel is regularly noted, but the significance goes beyond a simple numerical correspondence. The people’s troubled history vis-à-vis covenantal faithfulness and the consequences thereof has come to an end—or better, has been fulfilled—and their reaffirmation and reconstitution as the people of God is taking place around Jesus. Mark 3 ends with the first of nine “Markan sandwiches,” in which the evangelist “break[s] up a story or pericope by inserting a second, seemingly unrelated, story into the middle of it” (Edwards, “Markan,” 193). Here, the story of Jesus’s family coming to seize him (3:20–21, 31–35) is broken up by the Beelzebul controversy (3:22–30). For our purposes, this Markan sandwich is significant in that it provides the first explicit definition of the ingroup of Jesus’s followers. The scribes from Jerusalem are clearly outsiders. They accuse Jesus of being possessed by the demon Beelzebul and exorcising demons by Beelzebul’s authority, and they fail to recognize that Jesus has bound the strong man and is now plundering his house (3:27). More shockingly, however, Jesus’s own family, who think him “out of his mind” (3:21), stand at a further remove than the crowds who gather around him. (This is especially significant given the tendency among some—but not all— commentators of Mark to cast the crowds in an ambivalent, or even a dangerous, light.) Jesus’s family, no less than the Jerusalem scribes, “stand outside” (3:31), while the crowd is inside, “sitting around him” (3:32; see also v. 34). When someone tells him his own mother and siblings are calling for him, he rejects their call: “Who are my mother and my brothers? . . . Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother” (3:33–35). Thus concludes this section, in which the ingroup is first portrayed and then defined as those who receive and respond to Jesus’s growing reputation and, in so doing, “do the will of God.” Toward this end, Mark represents Jesus as restoring the twelve tribes of Israel, gathering the sick and possessed “from Dan to Beersheba” even as he sends out emissaries to advance the good news. More shockingly, we have observed outsiders emerging from within the circles of those around Jesus, beginning with those gathered to listen to Jesus’s authoritative teaching but including also his own mother and siblings. We suggested earlier that the dividing line between in- and outsiders is not about “knowing Jesus” but about something else. That “something else” is explicitly stated in 3:35 as “doing the will of God.” We will continue to return to this idea.

Traversing Social Norms (4:1–5:43) Mark 4–5 are not often lumped together. The majority of Mark 4 portrays Jesus teaching in parables and presents his only extended public discourse in Mark (4:1–34). After the parabolic

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teaching, Jesus and the disciples cross the Sea of Galilee, though a storm threatens their safety and exposes the disciples’ lack of faith (4:35–41). Arriving on the far shore of the sea, Jesus encounters a demon-possessed man who will become Jesus’s emissary to region of the Decapolis (5:1–20), the first such emissary to non-Jewish peoples. He then returns to the Jewish side of the sea, where—in another Markan sandwich—he encounters an ailing woman and a father near grief (5:21–43). As we will see, all four of these units contain an element of traversing established social norms. (4:1–20) First, the parables. Mark 4 presents a first parable (4:3–9), followed by a “parabolic theory” (4:10–12), an interpretation of the first parable (4:13–20), additional parables (including some applications; e.g., 4:22, 25), and a conclusion (4:33–34). The parables have a “polarizing effect” (Zimmermann, 239) among their audiences (both within the narrative and among the readers); that is, they construct “insiders” and “outsiders” in a way that follows nicely from 3:31– 35 (for a helpful discussion, see Middleton). Surprisingly, the disciples who were designated Jesus’s emissaries—entrusted with proclaiming his message and continuing his works (3:14–15) fail to understand Jesus’s first parable, about a sower who foolishly scatters seed along a path and among the rocks and thorns in addition to the prepared soil. When the disciples ask Jesus about his meaning, he offers them a striking promise and their first serious rebuke: “‘To you has been given the secret of the kingdom of God, but for those outside, everything comes in parables; in order that “they may indeed look, but not perceive, and may indeed listen, but not understand; so that they may not turn again and be forgiven”’ [Isa 6:9–10]. And he said to them, ‘Do you not understand this parable? Then how will you understand all the parables?’” (4:11–13). The promise concerns the strong distinction between them, as an ingroup, and all other outgroups. “Those outside” only get parables that block their perception, their understanding, even their forgiveness, while the disciples are promised “the mystery (mystērion) of the kingdom of God.” But what differentiates the ingroup from outsiders? Clearly not “understanding”; the disciples fare no better than anyone else, and we will soon—and repeatedly—see them fare worse than others. The answer must come from the end of the previous chapter: “Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother” (3:35). By dint of their response to Jesus’s call, the disciples are Jesus’s family, a fictive kinship group with incomparable insider status. “Those outside” are defined not by their failure to understand but by their failure to respond to the challenge posed by the parable. Ruben Zimmermann suggests that Jesus’s parables present “a path to perception for which questions, explanations, and insights are necessary” and invite the disciples as well as Mark’s readers to “[intensify their] motivation to gain understanding” (Zimmermann, 239). The proper response to Jesus’s parables is not to understand them but to engage them, to begin the “process of questioning, marveling, and searching that can ultimately lead to deepened understanding. . . . [T]here is a calculated potential for misunderstanding ultimately to create deeper understanding” (Zimmermann, 6). The very question that reveals the disciples’ failure to understand the parables is also their proper engagement of them. (4:21–32) The parables of Mark 4 all portray some element of reversing social norms. The sower indiscriminately casts seed even upon unsuitable soil, which is structurally similar to Jesus’s eating with tax collectors and sinners (2:15–17). In a shocking twist, those tax collectors and

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sinners prove to be more fruitful soil than the Jewish leaders—thus far we have seen scribes, Pharisees, and Herodians—so that casting “the word” among the Galilean social, cultural, and religious establishment results in sterilely sown seed. This interpretation sets us up to see the parables of the lampstand and the measure (4:21–25) as parables of reversal that critique the social and religious elite and expose them, unexpectedly, as those who have nothing and lose even what little they do have. The reversal continues in the final two parables: the farmer who “does not know how” the seed grows and produces fruit but who nevertheless participates in that production (4:26–29), and the mustard seed that begins as “the smallest of all the seeds” and ends up “the greatest of all shrubs” (4:30–32). (4:35–41) Jesus and the disciples then cross the Sea of Galilee, to the eastern—and predominantly non-Jewish—side of the lake. The crossing is tumultuous and terrifying, as “a great windstorm” (lailaps megalē) met them on their journey and threatened to overwhelm their boat (4:37). In a scene that reminds us of the prophet Jonah, Jesus “was in the stern, asleep on the cushion” (4:38; cp. Jonah 1:4–6). Jonah, of course, was sent to the gentile city of Nineveh, but he fled in the opposite direction, “for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing” (Jonah 4:2). Jesus compares to Jonah more by way of contrast than similarity, though the disciples, it must be said, are at least as ignorant as the sailors in the Jonah story. Jesus “rebuked the wind,” and after the “great windstorm” died down, Mark reports a “dead calm” (galēnē megalē; lit. “a great calm”) upon the surface of the waters (4:39). The disciples, filled with “great awe” (phobon megan), ask themselves: “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (4:41). Their lack of knowledge is made evident and their lack of faith censured. Even so, that they are in the boat with Jesus differentiates them from and even elevates them above “the crowd” that was left behind on the western shore of the lake (see 4:36). (5:1–20) Jesus and the disciples are now in “wild” country, on the non-Jewish side of the lake and in a state of disorientation that comes from any traversing of a significant social boundary. Mark’s elaborate description of the scene in 5:1–5 emphasizes the foreignness of the moment: they are on “the other side of the sea,” in “the country of the Gerasenes,” accosted by a man “with an unclean spirit” who “lived among the tombs” and was unrestrainable. After Jesus casts out the “Legion” of demons from the man, a nearby herd of pigs rushes into the sea and is drowned. The local pig herders fled and told the local inhabitants what happened, who came out and saw the demon-possessed man “sitting there, clothed and in his right mind, the very man who had had the legion; and they were afraid” (5:15). Just as the Legion had begged Jesus to send them into the pigs, so now the inhabitants beg Jesus to leave. They cast Jesus out, exorcising him from their region. The former demoniac, however, attempts to detach himself from his friends and family and attach himself to Jesus’s group of followers. In a strangely singular moment in Mark’s Gospel, however, Jesus refuses the man’s request to join him (contrast 10:52), though he does admit the man into the circle of disciples. Whereas the Twelve were chosen “to be with him, and to be sent out to proclaim the message, and to have authority to cast out demons” (3:14–15), the Gerasene demoniac is given the simple command to “tell [your friends] how much the Lord has done for you” (5:19). He thus becomes Jesus’s emissary, like the disciples, and the people of the Decapolis (“everyone”) hear about Jesus and are amazed (5:20).

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(5:21–34) Immediately following the Gerasene pericope, Jesus returns to the western (= Jewish) side of the lake. Here Mark once again “sandwiches” one story within another (see 3:20–35): the story of a hemorrhaging woman (5:25–34) is inserted into the story of a synagogue ruler’s daughter “at the point of death” (5:21–24, 35–43). Mark’s sandwich structure presents a striking example of our theme (“traversing social norms”). On the one hand, Jairus occupies a higher location on the social (and narrative) hierarchy. He is male, a leader of the synagogue, and has his name given by the narrator. On the other hand, the hemorrhaging woman is female, her profession or position is unstated, and even her name is dropped from the narrative. Both, however, approach Jesus in desperation. To the former, Jesus responds favorably, going with him to his home (5:24) and urging Jairus to continue in faith rather than fear when he hears that his daughter has died (5:35–36). The latter, however, approaches Jesus clandestinely, in the anonymity of the crowd, so that she is healed without Jesus’s prior knowledge. He senses that “power had gone forth from him” (5:30), and so he begins looking for whoever touched him. The disciples are unimpressed, noting that in fact everyone is touching him in the midst of “the crowd pressing in” (5:31), but Jesus is undeterred. The woman eventually steps forward and informs Jesus what happened, and once again Jesus responds favorably: “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease” (5:34). Both Jairus and the hemorrhaging woman contribute to an emerging sense of a “prototype” for the ingroup of Jesus’s followers (whether the specific subgroup we might refer to as “the Markan community” or, as seems likely, the superordinate ingroup of Christ-followers more generally). “A prototype is an abstract concept derived from multiple experiences with category members . . . a summary representation that encapsulates the central tendency of the category” (Esler, 166). The woman responded to reports of Jesus’s reputation that Mark already described as filling and even transcending the whole region (1:28, 45; 3:8), and despite “fear and trembling” (phobētheisa kai tremousa) at being found out she comes forward as the one who touched Jesus (5:33). She is then commended by Jesus specifically for her “faith” (pistis) and sent away in peace (5:34). At the darkest moment in his own story, Jairus is also urged to overcome the urge to fear (mē phobou) and exhibit faith in Jesus (monon pisteue; “only believe”). Both characters—an unnamed woman and a synagogue leader—present striking contrasts with the disciples, who earlier had been “afraid” (deiloi; lit. “cowardly”) and were without “faith” (oupō echete pistin; 4:40). Given the role of the Twelve as paradigmatic “exemplars” (see Esler, 166) among Christ-followers, the fear-overcoming-faith of these minor characters supplements the disciples’ timidity and lack of faith in the prototype—the “abstract concept”—of faith/trust in Christ’s ability to preserve or restore life.

Among Jews; among Non-Jews (6:1–8:9) Mark proceeds to extend Jesus’s range of travels beyond the region of the Sea of Galilee. From Nazareth (6:1–6a) and the villages of Galilee (6:53–56), Jesus will strike out also to Tyre (7:24– 30) and Sidon and back to the non-Jewish region of the Decapolis (pace Collins, 369; see BDAG s.v., ana). We already traced the theme of traversing social norms in Mark 4–5. In the present section, Mark portrays Jesus working similarly among Jews as among non-Jews.

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(6:1–6a) This section begins with Jesus’s return to “his hometown,” Nazareth (6:1–6a; see 1:9). Jesus teaches in the synagogue, just as he had at Capernaum (see 1:21–27), and again the gathered Jews express wonder at Jesus’s teaching and connect that teaching with the “deeds of power being done by his hands” (6:2). The similarities end there. In Capernaum, the people crowded around Simon Peter’s door to see Jesus for themselves. In Nazareth, the people’s familiarity with Jesus and his family engenders contempt. “Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary?” (6:3). Ironically, the Nazarenes’ proximity to Jesus distances them from him; “they took offense at him” (6:3). So again, in contrast to the reaction to Jesus in Capernaum (“They were astounded” [1:22]; “They were all amazed” [1:27]), in Nazareth it is Jesus’s turn to be wonder-struck: “And he was amazed at their unbelief ” (6:6). (6:6b–16) Jesus then goes about teaching throughout the Galilean villages (6:6; see 1:38), and he sends the Twelve out in pairs. The effect is to broaden the scope of Jesus’s activity; Jesus and six pairs of disciples scour the region, proclaiming repentance, casting out demons, and anointing the sick with oil and healing them (6:12). As a result, Jesus’s reputation continues to spread, now so much so that he comes to the attention of Galilee’s elite. Amid speculations about Jesus, Herod Antipas supposes that John the Baptist, “whom I beheaded” (6:16), has been raised from the dead. The last time we heard of John he had been arrested (see 1:14); now we discover the situation is rather even worse. Moreover, we ought to recall the climax of opposition to Jesus in 3:6: “The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.” John’s fate in 6:16 confirms and heightens the threat to Jesus in 3:6. (6:21–29) Mark describes the occasion of John’s death in a flashback. During a banquet in honor of Herod’s birthday, “his courtiers and officers and the leaders of Galilee” gathered to celebrate (6:21). Surrounded by his leading men, Herod’s honor and reputation were at stake. The motivation for John’s death was his public denunciation of Antipas’s marriage to Herodias, his sister-in-law. Two ideas arise from this pericope. First, and most obviously, is the death of John the Baptist, the prophet whom YHWH sent to prepare the way and the people for Jesus (1:1–8). But second is Mark’s repeated references to Herod Antipas as “the king” (basileus; see 6:14, 22, 25, 26, 27; see also 6:23). Commentators have long thought this is a historical error since Antipas was always a “ruler” (tetraarchēs) and never a king. Ironically, Antipas’s desire to be granted the title king—or rather, Herodias’s desire for her husband to be king—led to his fall from grace and banishment to Gaul (see Josephus, Ant. 18.240–56). Mark’s repeated references to Antipas as “king,” rather than simply being an error, serve a purpose in the narrative: they clarify and even ossify the space between the ingroup of Jesus’s followers and all other outgroups. Here the effect of allegiance to another “kingdom,” ruled by a wannabe “king” who is outwitted and overcome by his lust for his (step-)daughter and his inability to resist her mother, comes into full and gory view: John’s head is on a platter, and his disciples place his body in a tomb (see Rodríguez, Jesus, 49–54). (6:30–44) Immediately following Antipas’s birthday banquet, Mark narrates another feast, and the contrasts between them could not be more striking. Here there are no alluring girls, no pretensions to rank, and no corpses. Instead, Jesus is moved to compassion for the crowds who have followed him out into a desert, “because they were like sheep without a shepherd” (6:34; see

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also Num 27:17), which is a biblically resonant way of saying they were like a people without a king (Collins, 319). When Jesus orders the crowd to organize themselves in groups on the green grass and proceeds to feed them bread in the wilderness—the echoes of exodus crescendo to a near-deafening volume—he (as royal Messiah) stands in complete contrast with “king” Antipas. Mark leaves that contrast implicit for the moment; he will draw it out more explicitly in Mark 15. (6:45–56) Mark 6 ends with a second miracle at sea (6:45–52; cf. 4:35–41), which is followed by an editorial summary of Jesus healing the sick (6:53–56). In these two stories, the disciples are thrown into stark relief vis-à-vis the nameless crowds. Whereas the disciples “did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened” (6:52), the crowds “at once recognized [Jesus]” (6:54), and they rush about the whole region pursuing him, bringing out their sick to him on mats (cp. 2:3, 9), and begging to be permitted to touch the fringe of his cloak (cp. 5:27–28). Here we find crowds, with their sick loved ones, doing the will of God (see 3:35) even as the Twelve’s fear and hardened hearts still echo over the narrative. (7:1–23) Mark 7 begins with a lengthy controversy between Jesus and some Jewish leaders, in which Jesus defends the disciples against complaints about their practice regarding food (despite their failure to understand Jesus and “about the loaves”). The language Mark uses to set up the controversy can be read as exaggerating the distance between Jesus and his followers— including Mark’s audience—and “all the Jews” or even Judaism tout court. According to Mark, “the Pharisees, and all the Jews, do not eat unless they thoroughly wash their hands, thus observing the tradition of the elders” (7:3). As we mentioned above, however, Mark establishes a “Christian” identity (if I may be allowed the anachronism) that is a realization, even a fulfillment of Israel’s heritage. Rather than differentiating “Christianity” from “Judaism,” Mark portrays Jesus as engaging in a thoroughly Jewish dispute about handwashing before meals. Contrast Jesus’s engagement in this Jewish dispute with Gallio’s dismissal of a parochial (from Gallio’s perspective) Jewish dispute in Acts 18:12–17. Unlike Gallio, Jesus was a Jew, and his followers in Mark’s Gospel were Jews. As such, they participated in Jewish controversies. At the very least, Mark wrote for audiences, whether and to whatever extent they included non-Jews among them, that he assumed would remain interested in stories of Jesus’s engagement in Jewish controversies, even if he also sensed a need to clarify Jewish purity practices. The dispute between Jesus and these Jewish leaders is not about “Jewish practices” but rather about the function of “tradition” (7:3, 5) and perceived points of friction between tradition and “the commandment of God” (7:8; see also 7:9–13). Since observation of “the commandment of God” is every bit as much “Jewish practice” as is observing “the tradition of the elders,” we are witnessing Mark (and his audience) remembering—even engaging in—an intra-Jewish debate. Additionally, the conflict between Jesus and the Jewish leaders kicks off not because the Jews wash their hands before meals but because they object that the disciples do not. Jesus’s sharptongued critique of his interlocutors as “you hypocrites” (7:6) chastises them for “abandon[ing] the commandment of God” (7:8), and that commandment must have something to do with the Jewish leaders questioning the disciples’ worthiness to share a table with Jesus (and with them?). Jesus’s reply justifies his disciples’ eating with unwashed hands: “there is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile” (7:15). Crossley interprets this as saying that (ritually) unclean hands cannot defile food and, as a consequence

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of eating, render the rest of the body unclean unless a liquid transmits the uncleanness from hands to food (Crossley, 193–97). When Jesus explains the point to his disciples, he expands on “the parable” about what goes in and what comes out: “it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come: fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person” (7:21–23). Certain of these vices (e.g., “wickedness” [ponēriai], but also the triptych “envy, slander, pride” [ophthalmos ponēros, blasphēmia, hyperēphania]) can be read as responses to the particular “evil intention” that provoked the current controversy. (7:24–30) Following the debate about tradition, handwashing, and table fellowship, Jesus departs Galilee and ventures north, “to the region of Tyre.” Josephus mentions a striking and traditional hostility between the inhabitants of Tyre and the Jews: the Tyrians “are notoriously our bitterest enemies” (Josephus, Ag. Ap. 1.70 [LCL]). According to Mark, Jesus “did not want anyone to know he was [in the region of Tyre]” (7:24), which James Edwards interprets in terms of Jesus’s desire “for a respite from the vice grip of opposition exerted by the Pharisees and Antipas” (Edwards, Mark, 217). Though Edwards has overstated the urgency of Jesus’s departure from Galilee, he rightly preserves the connection between Jesus’s experience of opposition in 7:1–23 and his flight from Galilee in search of rest. Jesus’s plans for respite, however, are frustrated once again (see 6:30–34). “A Greek woman, a Syrophoenician by birth” (7:26) heard Jesus was in town and implored him to intervene in her daughter’s situation. The woman’s “little daughter had an unclean spirit” (pneuma akatharton [7:25]; cp. 1:23–27; 3:11; 5:2–13; 6:7; 9:25), which provides an important thematic link with the previous controversy and the disciples eating with unclean hands (koinais chersin; lit. “common or profane hands”). Surprisingly, however, Jesus’s response to the woman parallels the Pharisees’ and scribes’ reaction to Jesus’s disciples. Whereas the Jewish leaders rejected the disciples’ presence at table, Jesus rejects the woman’s request for help. Jesus’s rebuff of the pagan woman’s plea strikes modern readers as jarring: “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs” (7:27). The geographic and ethnic identifiers in this pericope dispose us to interpret “the children” as a reference to Jews and, as a consequence, “the dogs” as a reference to non-Jews (= gentiles). Nowhere else in Mark is Jesus presented so negatively, which provokes the reader to provide an explanation for it here. If Jesus left Galilee for the region of Tyre in search of rest, perhaps his rebuff of the Syrophoenician woman was less about her ethnic identity and more about his need for respite. Such ethnicized rhetoric (“throw it to the dogs”) is extremely offensive in modern contexts, and it was not likely to have been significantly less offensive in antiquity (Collins, 366–67). Rather than deflecting and countering Jesus’s aggressive categorization of the woman as a dog, she absorbs his rebuff and renews her plea: “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs” (7:28). Whether the woman is witty or simply desperate is neither here nor there. Jesus has a change of heart and declares the demon has (already?) left her daughter (7:29). This exorcism is the first of three acts of power Jesus performs among gentiles (see 7:24–8:9), and these three acts mirror his activities among Jews (e.g., 1:23–28; 5:21–43; but not 6:1–6a [see below]). However, in light of the private nature of this first act as well as Jesus’s explicit intention to remain unnoticed and his initial refusal to help the woman’s daughter, it would be wholly inappropriate to categorize these pericopae as “a gentile mission.” In Mark 7, Jesus does not go 83

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to the gentiles as much as he departs from his Jewish opponents. Rather than seeking out the nations, Jesus seeks rest. Moreover, in none of these three acts among non-Jews does Mark insert an editorial aside such as he did in 7:19b (“thus he declared all foods clean”), so that any support these pericopae provide for a Pauline-style “mission to the gentiles” remains implicit at best. (7:31–37) Jesus remains in gentile territory in the next pericope, though his circuitous route from Tyre to the area southeast of the Sea of Galilee has occasioned considerable comment. Perhaps we should interpret 7:31 as a signal of Mark’s ignorance of Syrian geography, or perhaps it is a laconic reference to a tour of southern Coele-Syria. In either case, Jesus arrives “in the region of the Decapolis” (7:31), where he is brought “a deaf man (kōphon) who had an impediment in his speech (mogilalon)” (7:32). For the second time in a row, Jesus performs a healing in private, though here his actions suggest magical manipulation: “[Jesus] put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, ‘Ephphatha,’ that is, ‘Be opened’” (7:33–34). This is the first healing of a deaf or mute person in Mark, and perhaps it should surprise us. In Jesus’s hometown the people exhibited an amazing unbelief at Jesus’s teaching, “and he could do no deed of power there” (6:1–6a). In the region of the Hellenistic (= non-Jewish) cities of the Decapolis, Jesus works a healing that evokes Isaiah’s hopes for Zion: “Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf (lxx: kōphōn) unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless (lxx: mogilalōn) sing for joy” (Isa 35:5–6; see Watts, 172–76). Here, as Jesus engages individuals outside Israel, the prophetic promises given to Israel find fulfillment among those outside the nation. As a result, the people in the region of the Decapolis marvel at Jesus’s ministry: “They were astounded beyond measure, saying, ‘He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak’” (7:37). (8:1–9) The third story of Jesus among non-Jews echoes the earlier account of Jesus feeding five thousand people (= Jews) in the wilderness. Once again, Jesus charges the disciples to feed the large crowd. Once again, the disciples respond to Jesus with exasperation and a lack of faith. Once again, Jesus feeds thousands with just a few loaves and some small fish. Once again, there are baskets-full of leftovers. The difference, however, between Mark’s two feeding miracles involves the ethnic identity of the crowds who are fed. In Mark 6, Jesus feeds five thousand from Israel, and his account of the feeding reverberates with echoes of the exodus in the wilderness. By the beginning of Mark 8, Jesus feeds four thousand among non-Jews, and though the echoes of the exodus are muted, the parallel with the earlier feeding suggests that the healing and restoration Jesus brings to Israel extend beyond the boundaries of the nation to include ethnic outsiders. The similarities of the two feedings even suggest that the same kind of restoration that Jesus works in Israel is at work beyond Israel.

Unveiling Jesus’s Identity (8:10–9:13) After a brief stint among the gentiles, Jesus returns to the territory on the western (= Jewish) side of the Sea of Galilee. Dalmanutha has been identified with a recently unearthed fishing village on the northwest coast of the Sea of Galilee. Significantly, when Jesus returns to Jewish territory, the conflict with Pharisees from 7:1–13 resumes uninterrupted. Mark explicitly presents 84

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their request for a sign as a “test,” which reminds the reader of the Pharisees’ conspiracy with the Herodians about how to destroy Jesus (3:6; see 8:15). Some of Jesus’s wondrous acts have been public; others, though performed in private, have been publicly proclaimed. These have sufficed to provoke questions about Jesus’s identity (see 6:14–16), though Mark does not present the Pharisees as seeking to clarify or confirm Jesus’s identity. Again, Jesus sighs (see 7:34), and then he denies to grant any sign to “this generation” (tē genea tautē). This epithet likens Jesus’s Jewish opponents—and so also any Jews in Mark’s social sphere who reject the gospel— to the wilderness generation that was brought out of Egypt only to fall dead in the desert without entering the promised land (Collins, 384). Jesus leaves his inquisitors and heads northward, toward Caesarea Philippi (see 8:27). As Jesus and the disciples travel on the water, he warns them: “Watch out—beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod” (8:15). Mark has mentioned the Pharisees in the controversy stories of 2:1–3:6, in the controversy over handwashing in 7:1–23, and in the request for a sign in the previous pericope; he only mentioned the Herodians in the notice of their conspiracy with the Pharisees in 3:6. Leaven (“yeast”) has both positive and negative metaphorical connotations. In the present context, Jesus warns the disciples not about yeast but about Pharisees and Herodians, whose hostility to Jesus threatens to spread like yeast (Collins, 386). Strangely, the disciples misunderstand Jesus’s warning and think he is criticizing them for not having enough bread for the whole group. In light of the feeding stories in 6:34–44 and 8:1–9, the disciples’ failure mirrors the reception of Jesus’s parables by “those outside” (4:11–13); the disciples have eyes but cannot see, and ears but cannot hear (8:18). For the second time Jesus asks them about their failure: “Do you not yet understand?” (8:21; see 4:13). (8:22–26) As this question echoes over the narrative, Mark begins perhaps the strangest pericope in his Gospel. When Jesus and the disciples arrive in Bethsaida (in the territory ruled by Philip, Herod Antipas’s half-brother, and not part of Antipas’s tetrarchy; see Josephus, Ant. 18.28), the locals bring a blind man to Jesus (8:22–26). As in the healing of the deaf man in the Decapolis (7:31–37), Jesus takes the man and heals him in a comparatively private setting outside the village. In the healing of the deaf man, Jesus “put (“thrust”? Grk: ebalen) his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue” (7:33). Here Jesus spits in the blind man’s eyes (pace the NRSV: “when he had put saliva on his eyes”) and lays hands on him. When Jesus asks if he can see anything, the man replies, “I can see people, but they look like trees, walking” (8:24). This is the only healing account in the Gospels where Jesus’s initial act of healing is unsuccessful. (For an initially unsuccessful exorcism, see Mark 5:8.) The two-stage healing of the blind man—with the first stage failing to accomplish the man’s total restoration—has provoked considerable comment. Adela Yarbro Collins notes the blind man’s double function, in that he is both “an individual in need of physical healing” as well as a representation of “the ‘blind’ disciples” (Collins, 393). Mark tells this story here to convey to his audience “the difficulty that Jesus had in teaching the disciples how his mighty deeds signify his identity and purpose” (Collins, 394). Like the blind man, Jesus’s closest associates see him, but not clearly. And though their poor vision may be persistent, it is not necessarily permanent. The rest of this section (i.e., “Unveiling Jesus”; 8:10–9:13) narrates how the disciples began to see everything—especially Jesus—clearly (cp. 8:25). Not that the disciples will understand or follow Jesus well from here on out; the next section will feature multiple shortcomings among the 85

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disciples, and of course their betrayal and/or abandonment of Jesus is still to come. Even so, they will never again ask, “Who then is this?” (see 4:41), and their knowledge of Jesus’s identity will finally begin to approximate the readers’ knowledge. Also, in this and the next section, Jesus will disclose to the disciples the events that will unfold in Jerusalem (8:31; 9:31; 10:33–34). (8:27–30) As they travel to the villages surrounding Caesarea Philippi, well north of Galilee, Jesus talks to his disciples “on the way” (en tē hodō). This prepositional phrase has caught commentators’ attention and been identified as one of Mark’s favorite images for following Jesus (see Marcus, Way). Rikki Watts leans into this insight. Mark’s “‘Way’ Section” (8:27–11:11) picks up the programmatic notice of John’s call to prepare the way of YHWH in 1:1–8 and enacts the New Exodus prophesied by Isaiah, in which YHWH redeems Israel from her exile and her enemies, leads his people “on the way” back from exile, and arrives in Zion and resumes his place on the throne (Watts, 134–36). Mark’s “Way” Section, then, begins outside the land of Israel, near Caesarea Philippi with the first recognition of Jesus’s identity, and ends in Jerusalem, where Jesus will be acclaimed “king of the Jews.” His enthronement—intended as parody but only ironically parodic (Marcus, “Crucifixion”)—will unmask the pretensions of Roman power and Judean collaboration and establish the kingdom of God “in power” (9:1). As Jesus and the disciples are “on the way,” he asks them about his reputation. Perceptions of Jesus in 8:28 are consistent with the speculations in 6:14–16. The disciples had asked, “Who then is this?” (4:41). Now, despite their repeated failures to understand him even as recently as 8:21, Peter offers the critical confession: “You are the Messiah” (ho Christos; 8:29). Surprisingly, but consistent with previous injunctions to silence (≠ “secrecy”; see Watson, 19–35), Jesus instructs the disciples not to tell anyone about him. (8:31–33) Immediately on the heels of his command to silence, Jesus proceeds to instruct the disciples—and also the audience—on the character of his messiahship. In other words, he clarifies the disciples’ vision of “the Son of Man.” “Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly” (8:31–32). This is the first time Jesus instructs the disciples about his fate in Jerusalem; he will do so on two other occasions (see 9:31; 10:33–34). These “passion-resurrection predictions” set the program for the remainder of Mark’s narrative and should close the gap between the audiences’ privileged knowledge of Jesus’s identity and fate and the disciples’ knowledge. Should, but does not. All three passion-resurrection predictions follow a similar three-step pattern. Jesus anticipates his arrest, execution, and resurrection, the disciples fail to grasp Jesus’s words, and Jesus rebukes and corrects them. The present instance is the most striking example of this structure. Peter, immediately on the heels of acknowledging Jesus as “Messiah,” takes Jesus aside and rebukes him (epitimaō) for the passion-resurrection prediction, only to find himself rebuked (epitimaō) in the worst way possible: “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things” (8:32–33). This is the strongest rebuke of any character in Mark. Some Pharisees and scribes from Jerusalem are hypocrites who abandon the commandment of God (7:6, 8). Other Pharisees evoke the unfaithful wilderness generation (8:12), while others are decried for their hardness of heart (10:5). Some Sadducees are ignorant of both the scriptures and the power of God and, as a result,

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are “quite wrong” (12:24, 27), while some scribes in the temple come in for condemnation for their ostentatious religiosity while first neglecting and then devouring widows (12:38–40). And Judas, of course, would have been better off had he never been born (14:21). But Peter is rebuked as Satan, the ruler whose kingdom is antithetical to the kingdom of God and is now, in Jesus’s ministry, being plundered (see 3:23–27). Indeed, confusing God’s kingdom and Satan’s provokes Jesus’s teaching on the “eternal sin” (3:28–30). No one anywhere in Mark’s Gospel is rebuked as strongly or forcefully as is Peter in 8:33. (8:34–9:1) This leads to Jesus’s first explicit teaching on the nature of discipleship, which is directed not toward the disciples as an exclusive group but to “the crowd with his disciples” (8:34). The way of discipleship is a way of self-denial, of taking up one’s cross—an instrument of execution!—and following Jesus to the place of sacrifice (8:34). Readers recall that Jesus is “on the way” (en tē hodō), implicitly to Jerusalem (8:27), and that once there he will be rejected and killed, and then he will rise again (8:31). The call to follow Jesus to the place of execution, then, is also a call to trust that God will save those who lose their life for Jesus’s sake and for the sake of the gospel (8:35). This first teaching on discipleship comes to an end with a surprising statement of imminence: “Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see that the kingdom of God has come with power” (9:1). Commentators and historians have typically read 9:1 in connection with the “coming of the Son of Man” (see 8:38) as an indication that Mark and his community anticipated the parousia of the Son of Man within a generation (Collins, 413). Others have read 9:1 as an anticipation of the kingdom’s arrival in or through Jesus’s death and/or resurrection, or perhaps of the destruction of Jerusalem and/or the temple in 70 CE. In light of the larger context of this saying—the prediction of Jesus’s rejection, death, and resurrection, the call to self-denial and cross-bearing discipleship, and the confident anticipation of the Son of Man’s “com[ing] in the glory of his Father with the holy angels” (8:38)—the arrival of the kingdom of God with power (en dynamei) likely refers to the entire complex of events that make up Jesus’s passion-and-resurrection (and its aftermath). We might also notice that Jesus refers to the “power of God” (tēn dynamin tou theou) in connection with the resurrection of the dead in the debate with the Sadducees (12:18–27 [v. 24]) and, on the eve of the crucifixion, tells the gathered Sanhedrin and chief priests that they “will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of the Power” (14:55–64 [v. 62]). Especially this latter reference to “power” (dynamis) hints that the crucifixion is the “revelatory event” in which the “true royalty [of Jesus and his kingdom] emerges through the negation of the negation” and, therefore, fulfills the promise of 9:1 (Marcus, “Crucifixion,” 87). (9:2–13) This section closes with the revelation of Jesus’s identity to the disciples. Now the truth of Peter’s confession in 8:29 is made manifest to Peter, James, and John, as well as to the reader, when Jesus is “transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them” (9:2–3). Elijah and Moses appear with Jesus, talking with him, and the disciples who witness the event are slack-jawed. For the second time in the narrative the voice of God identifies Jesus: “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” (9:7; cf. 1:11). In Mark 1 God spoke only to Jesus (and the reader); here in Mark 9 the divine voice discloses Jesus’s sonship to the three disciples. Now, finally, the disciples know what we, Mark’s audience, know.

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Even so, they continue to fail to understand Jesus, either who he is or what he will do. Despite the comparatively unambiguous prediction in 8:31, the three disciples do not understand what he means when “he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead” (9:9). Instead of asking for an explanation (cf. 4:10; 7:17), the disciples press the social differentiation between themselves and the scribes, which should provide safe ground for reaffirming their advantageous social location. “Why do the scribes say that Elijah must come first?” (9:11). Jesus, however, affirms the scribal teaching; they teach what is right, even if they—like the disciples—have failed to understand it.

Norms for a Markan Community (9:14–10:52) With the Transfiguration behind us (see the previous section), the Markan Jesus moves toward Jerusalem (see the next section). In a sense, then, the current section simply fills the narrative space it takes Jesus to get from Caesarea Philippi in the north to Jerusalem in the south. We would be mistaken, however, to regard this section as mere filler. In terms of the present project’s interest in social identity, Mark 9–10 offers significant material for defining, shaping, and legitimizing the community of Christ’s early followers. In addition to two additional passionresurrection predictions (9:31; 10:33–34), this section includes key teachings on the character of discipleship (e.g., 9:33–37; 10:13–16, 23–31, 41–44), the purpose of Jesus’s ministry (10:45), and an additional healing story that closes out the “on the way” section of Mark (10:46–52). (9:17–29) In the aftermath of the Transfiguration, Jesus and the three disciples come down the mountain and find the other disciples arguing with some scribes and surrounded by the crowd. When Jesus asks what they are arguing about, a nameless man comes forward and explains about his son and a “mute spirit”: “I asked your disciples to cast it out, but they could not do so” (9:17–18). In light of Mark’s contrast between Jesus and the scribes, as well as the disciples’ role as Jesus’s emissaries (see 3:14–15), we expect the disciples to easily dispense with their scribal interlocutors and relieve the boy of the speechless spirit. That they could not explains Jesus’s response: “You faithless generation, how much longer must I be among you? How much longer must I put up with you?” (9:19). When Jesus calls for the boy to be brought to him, the spirit threw the boy to the ground. The father’s appeal to Jesus—“if you are able to do anything, have pity on us and help us” (9:22)—is in pointed contrast with the leper’s appeal in 1:40 (“If you are willing, you can make me clean”; NRSV modified). Jesus replies sharply: “If you are able!—All things can be done for the one who believes” (9:23). The implicit challenge to the boy’s father to be “one who believes” (tō pisteuonti) picks up the same language from Jesus’s opening call to the residents of Galilee (“The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe [pisteuete] in the good news”; 1:15), as well as Jesus’s instruction to Jairus upon the news of the death of the latter’s daughter (“Do not fear, only believe” [monon pisteue]; 5:36). Jesus’s rebuke is a bit surprising in light of the father’s sufficient faith to bring his son to Jesus in the first place and his understandable consternation at the disciples’ failure to restore his son (Collins, 438). The father’s outcry, however, holds together in tension two diametric opposites: “I believe; help my unbelief!” (9:24).

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Jesus rebukes the spirit and, unlike the disciples, forces the spirit to act. Unfortunately, the spirit kills—or seems to kill—the boy, which the onlookers witness and attest (9:26). In a scene reminiscent of the raising of Jairus’s daughter, Jesus took the boy by the hand and raised him (9:27; cf. 5:41–42). Later, in a private situation, the disciples ask about their inability to cast out the spirit. Jesus’s answer, “This kind can come out only through prayer” (9.29), however, is rather unsatisfying and seems to dodge their question rather than answer it. Jesus did not pray; he simply rebuked the spirit, which had the effect of driving out the spirit. Jesus’s answer, therefore, draws attention to the disciples’ failure: they should have been able to help this father and his son, but they could not because they, like the Pharisees in 8:11–12, are a “faithless generation” (9:19). (9:30–50) Jesus has been operating in Herod Philip’s territory since his departure for Bethsaida in 8:13–22. In 9:30, he and his disciples re-enter Herod Antipas’s territory, passing through Galilee and entering Capernaum in 9:33. (He will continue passing through Antipas’s realm in 10:1, which will be significant when we get to Mark 10.) The NRSV divides 9:30–50 into four subunits, though the whole section comprises the threefold pattern of prediction, misapprehension, and correction we discussed earlier (see our comments on 8:31–9:1). As Jesus re-enters Antipas’s realm, he avoids the crowds and repeats his warning that “the Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again” (9:31). The disciples, however, do not understand even this plain exposition of Jesus’s fate; instead, they engage an argument about which of them is greatest. Although Jesus does not rebuke the disciples for their inverted view of status, his correction directly challenges that view: “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (9:35). Jesus also illustrates the point by taking hold of a little child (paidion), wrapping his arms around that child, and identifying both himself and the one who sent him (viz., God) with the child. In the first passion-resurrection prediction, it was Peter who interrupted and rebuked Jesus (8:32). In the second, it is John who interrupts Jesus. “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him” (9:38). Mark’s placement of this interruption heightens its audacity: just ten verses previously the disciples ask Jesus why they had been unable to cast out a spirit, and now they presume to rebuke a nameless-but-effective exorcist, “because he was not following us” (9:38). Jesus offers a mild rebuke of the disciples’ temerity and, in so doing, expands the boundaries encompassing the group that does the work of the kingdom. “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us” (9:39–40). The disciples belong to a larger group than they imagined—a group that includes everyone who is not “against us.” Even Jesus’s promise that “whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward” (9:41) can be read as a mild rebuke of the disciples: the hospitality shown to those who belong to him (Christou este) results in reward even as it contrasts with the disciples’ failure to show hospitality to one of their own. The remainder of Jesus’s instruction (9:42–50) continues Jesus’s correction of the disciples’ initial failure following the second passion-resurrection prediction. The quest for greatness and the neglect of “these little ones who believe in me” (9:42) imperils their very lives. Death by drowning and even bodily disfigurement are preferable to the exclusion of those of lowly status (or no status). The Markan Jesus, after all, presumably still has his arms wrapped around a little child (9:36), which only heightens the 89

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distancing effect of Jesus’s words. The disciples not only cause a “little one” to stumble; they actively prevent a co-laborer in the work of the kingdom of God. (10:1–12) Mark 10 comprises six vignettes that take place in the south, in “Judea and beyond the Jordan” (10:1) before moving onto the road going up to Jerusalem (10:32) and passing through Jericho (10:46). The geographical movement is significant; Jesus has left Galilee and the regions beyond and is approaching Jerusalem, the site of the narrative’s climax. The approaching denouement lends the stories of Mark 10 a sense of movement toward the coming conflict. In the first vignette, Jesus is tested by some Pharisees: “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” (10:2). The “test” will end with Jesus rejecting any grounds for divorce (“what God has joined together, let no one separate”; 10:9). The disciples, apparently perplexed by Jesus’s halakhic rigor, ask him to clarify his stance, to which he replies: “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery” (10:11–12). Discussion of these sentences often focuses on whether or not Jewish women had the legal right to divorce their husbands. Jewish women could, it seems, initiate a divorce in most if not all situations (see Collins, 459–64). Mark 10:2–12, however, makes better sense not as a discussion about divorce as an abstract concept but rather as an attempt to entrap Jesus in the same murderous web that ensnared John the Baptist. Jesus has been generally avoiding Herod Antipas’s territory since the controversy of 7:1–23, though he has had to travel through Galilee and Perea (the areas under Antipas’s control) on his way to Judea and Jerusalem. Mark repeatedly links the Pharisees with Herod and/or his partisans (the Herodians; see 3:6; 8:15; 12:13). Here in ch. 10, when Jesus is nearest to the fortress in which Antipas had John beheaded (i.e., the fortress of Machaerus; see Josephus, Ant. 18.109–19), a group of Pharisees test Jesus about the very same issue that brought John to Herod’s attention and led to his beheading. Divorce was not especially controversial in Jesus’s day, so the sense in which the Pharisees’ question is a “test” for Jesus is not immediately clear (Collins, 465). But the specific issues of Antipas’s divorce from his first wife, of Herodias’s divorce from her first husband, and of the marriage between Antipas and Herodias, make very good sense as the matrix within which the Pharisees’ question in 10:2 and Jesus’s response in 10:5–9, 11–12 become controversial or adversative. John opposed Antipas’s and Herodias’s divorces and their remarriage, and it got him killed. Now the Pharisees get Jesus to do the same, which picks up the idea that the Pharisees (and Herodians) were conspiring “how to destroy him” (3:6). Of course, Jesus steps directly onto the trap set before him in 10:11–12 and condemns as adulterers both the man who divorces his wife and marries another (viz., Antipas) and the woman who divorces her husband and marries another (viz., Herodias). But two things prevent the same fate as John to befall Jesus. First, Jesus’s most direct statement against Antipas and Herodias is spoken in private to the disciples; publicly, Jesus’s critique is indirect and leveled against divorce as an abstract question (and against his interlocutors’ hard hearts; see 10:5). Second, Jesus quickly leaves Herod’s territory, crossing the Jordan and proceeding into Judea, which was administered by Roman authority. (10:13–31) If the disciples fare poorly in the story of the children coming to Jesus (10:13–16), they perform much better in the story of the rich man who asks Jesus, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (10:17–31; v. 17 quoted). Jesus’s responses refer the nameless man

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back to Torah, both “the one God” of Israel (see Deut 6:4) and “the commandments” (see Deut 5:6–21), which reinforces Mark’s portrayal of Jesus as a thoroughly Torah-observant Jew. The man claims to have kept “all these [commandments] since my youth” (10:20), a claim that Jesus does not challenge. But for some reason, the man finds the commandments insufficient to inherit eternal life. Rather than chastise the man for his lack of confidence in Torah’s efficacy, Jesus points the man toward a life of discipleship: “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me” (10:21). Despite Jesus’s reluctance to be called “good” in v. 18, here in v. 21 he locates himself squarely in the center of the answer to the man’s query about inheriting eternal life. When the man proves unwilling (or unable) to disassociate himself from his “many possessions” and “follow [Jesus]” (akolouthei moi; see 8:34), Jesus decries wealth as a barrier to entrance into the kingdom of God: “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” (10:23). This appears to be a radical rejection of wealth (and the wealthy), and in some ways it is. Two points, however, deserve mention. First, Jesus does not turn away this wealthy man; instead, the man himself chooses to value his “many possessions” over following Jesus. Second, other interactions between Jesus and plausibly wealthy individuals do not contain any hint of criticism of their wealth (see 1:19–20; 2:13–17; 5:21–43; 14:3–9; see also 15:40–41, 42–47). Neither of these points blunts the sharp edge of Jesus’s warning about wealth: “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” (10:25). But perhaps it helps put into perspective that warning’s motivation: wealth is not itself incompatible to the life of discipleship, but it provides a distraction (or perhaps temptation) from the life of discipleship. In contrast to the nameless man, “who went away grieving, for he had many possessions” (10:22), the disciples have left behind everything to follow Jesus. Peter speaks up, which usually signals an error or misapprehension on his or the disciples’ part. But here there is no hint of the earlier competition among the disciples (cf. 9:33–37); Peter simply notes, “we have left everything and followed you” (10:28). Jesus praises them—and all those like them—for forsaking everything “for my sake and for the sake of the gospel,” promising them “a hundredfold now in this age . . . with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life” (10:29–30). The reference to persecutions seems out of place and may be a nod to the situation of Mark and his readers, though it does reflect Jesus’s earlier teaching about both his own fate (8:31; 9:31) and the cost of following him (8:34–38). In this context, Jesus’s declaration that “many who are first will be last, and the last will be first” (10:31) is not a saying about status but about reward. (10:32–52) The third and final passion-resurrection prediction pattern occurs in 10:32–45, with Jesus’s most detailed prediction in 10:33–34, the disciples’ misunderstanding taking the form of James and John’s request and the indignant response of the rest of the disciples in 10:35–41, and Jesus’s correction in 10:42–45. Perhaps the most significant statement of purpose comes from Jesus in this section: “the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (10:45). The final scene of Jesus’s ministry before his arrival in Jerusalem is the healing of a blind man named Bartimaeus. The scene is significant for multiple reasons. First, it closes the section that opened with the healing of another blind man in 8:22–26. Second, it is the first time in Mark Jesus is addressed as “Son of David.” Third, Bartimaeus dramatically embodies the movement 91

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from sitting “along the way” (para tēn hodon; 10:46) to following Jesus “on the way” (en tē hodō; 10:52). Bartimaeus receives his sight because of his faith and he follows Jesus on the way to Jerusalem, where Jesus will bear his cross to the place of execution. This is the clearest example of faithful discipleship in Mark’s Gospel, and it is a fitting end to the story of Jesus before his arrival in Jerusalem.

A Prototypical Temple (11:1–13:37) Martin Kähler, in his famous little book The So-Called Historical Jesus and the Historic, Biblical Christ, provocatively described the Gospels as “passion narratives with extended introductions” (Kähler, 80 n.11). While that is certainly an exaggeration, it does convey something of the passion narrative’s dominance over Mark’s story as a whole. The events of Jesus’s last week occupy five chapters, fully half the space Mark takes to narrate the rest of Jesus’s life. Mark 11–13 focus on Jesus and—and Jesus in—the temple. Jesus’s action in the temple in 11:15–19 prophetically symbolized the temple’s destruction, but not because Jewish worship in the temple was overly external or material, focused on external ritual, purity, and/or animal sacrifice. After all, Jewish worship was mandated directly by God in the Mosaic Torah, including its animal and agricultural sacrifices and its priestly rituals and requirements. Instead, Jesus’s action symbolizes destruction and also anticipates restoration. Only the ingroup of Mark and his audience, however, can see how the temple will be restored. “Mark draws fascinating parallels between Jesus and the temple” (Gray, 93), including that both are—or will be—destroyed. Jesus’s death, of course leads to resurrection, which is in striking contrast to the temple, whose destruction does not lead to rebuilding. Thus Jesus (and, according to Gray, the community of his followers) replace the temple and its functions; “the community gathered around Jesus [is] a new temple. . . . Jesus [is] the cornerstone of the new temple” (Gray, 198). Jesus and the ingroup of his followers become a prototypical temple against which the memory of Jerusalem’s temple appears like a fruitless fig tree or a vineyard whose fruit is withheld from its rightful owner. In Mark 11–13, then, Mark narrates in proleptic fashion Jesus’s replacement of the temple, not in the problematic and erroneous sense of “Christianity replaces Judaism” but rather in the sense that Jesus prophetically enacts YHWH’S judgment against unfaithful institutions within Israel and leads the people in the restoration of those institutions. The peculiarity of Jesus’s entrance into Jerusalem is often remarked and need not detain us here. Those who travel with Jesus herald his arrival in Jerusalem as the arrival of Israel’s long-awaited king. “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” (11:9–10). In some sense—we need not press the details here—the people’s return to Zion, following the lead of the new Davidic king, enacts YHWH’S own return Zion. Jesus’s entrance, then, re-enacts or even comprises God’s arrival in Jerusalem (see Marcus, Way, 33). The resonance between Jesus’s entry into Jerusalem with Zechariah’s prophetic expectation of Zion’s king riding into Jerusalem, “humble and seated upon an ass” (Zech 9:9), which Mark does not quote, is such that both Matthew and John explicitly refer to Zechariah in their own accounts of Jesus coming into the city.

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(11:12–25) Mark narrates Jesus’s action in the temple—overturning tables and seats and obstructing the normal flow of traffic and commerce—in the context of an interaction with a fig tree (11:12–25). In this dramatic example of a “Markan sandwich,” Jesus curses a fig tree for not bearing fruit (though the narrator notes it was not the proper season for figs), and Mark curiously takes pains to mention that “his disciples heard it” (11:14). Mark expands the circle of those who hear Jesus, from the disciples in 11:14 to the crowds who sat “spellbound by his teaching” (11:19). In contrast to these—disciples and crowd—are the temple authorities, “the chief priests and the scribes” who seek for ways to kill Jesus (11:18). As the story progresses, the ingroup increases in scope, while the outgroup increases in opposition. The temple incident ends with the strange conglomeration of sayings in the second half of the fig tree pericope (11:22–25). The fig tree, which represents Jerusalem’s temple, stands cursed and withered, but access to God remains open. How God remains present is not yet explained (see Mark 13), but Jesus enjoins continued faith in God and confidence that he hears the prayers of his people, as well as forgiveness for others (11:22–25). Before we move on, we should note that, in the midst of the disruption of activities in the temple’s outer court, Jesus evokes Isaiah and Jeremiah in his condemnation of the temple and its operators. Mark then notes: “And when the chief priests and the scribes heard it, they kept looking for a way to kill him; for they were afraid of him, because the whole crowd was spellbound by his teaching” (11:18). This is the second notice of a conspiracy to destroy Jesus (see 3:6), but Jesus’s actions in the temple are directly linked to Jesus’s arrest and death in a way that the healing of the man with a withered hand is not. Jesus will die in Mark 15 with a charge of royal pretense affixed above his head. Here in Mark 11, we see that Jesus’s actions in the temple lead directly to that charge and its consequence. (11:27–33) When Jesus and the disciples return to Jerusalem on the next day, the temple leadership (“the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders”; 11:27) challenge him on the source of his authority to disrupt temple operations (and, prophetically, to enact divine judgment against the temple and its personnel). Perhaps unexpectedly, Jesus responds with a riddle regarding John the Baptist and his authority to call Israel to repentance and immersion in the wilderness, apart from the cultic mechanisms of repentance and forgiveness centered on the temple (11:29–30; cf. 2:6–12). The link with John is more significant than simply to say that Jesus and John are authorized by the same source. Jesus’s question links his own ministry, including and especially his actions in the temple, with John’s own popular, extra-temple activity that turned the people back toward God. Neither Jesus nor John orients their followers back to the temple (and its personnel); both figures supplant the temple as the locus of the nation’s encounter with God. It is particularly telling, then, that the temple authorities are unable to answer Jesus’s question (11:31–32) and openly profess their ignorance. They do not recognize the activities of God at work in John (and Jesus), but neither are they able to prevent the people from going out to John (and Jesus). (12:1–12) When Jesus’s opponents refuse to answer his question, he retorts that he would not answer theirs. Nevertheless, Jesus proceeds immediately to offer an answer in the form of the parable of the wicked tenants (see 12:1–12). The parable incorporates three group identities: the man who plants the vineyard and his agents (his slaves and, ultimately, his son), the tenants who mismanage the vineyard, and finally the vineyard itself. Unlike the image of the fig tree in Mark 11, which is linked with Jerusalem’s temple and is condemned for its lack of fruit, the figure of the

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vineyard produces fruit, but the people responsible for stewarding that fruit are unfaithful in the execution of their responsibility. The parable presents the tenants as altogether unreasonable, first in their mistreatment and even murder of the owner’s slaves (12:2–5) and then in their hope to inherit the vineyard after they kill the son (12:7–8). The point to notice, however, is that both the tenants and the son operate on the basis of the same authority (viz., the vineyard owner’s), though the former have rebelled against this authority while the latter faithfully discharges it. The same authority that authorized the tenants to care for the vineyard has sent the son “to collect from them his share of the produce of the vineyard” (12:2). The tenants’ opposition to the son, and their violence against him, leads to their rejection by the vineyard owner: “What then will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come and destroy the tenants and give the vineyard to others” (12:9). As with the fig tree and the incident in the temple, the parable of the vineyard anticipates God’s judgment against the temple and its administration. But unlike the fig tree, which withered as a result of Jesus’s curse, the vineyard persists and is given to others who, presumably, will be more faithful stewards. (12:13–37) The majority of the remainder of Mark 12 continues the riddling session that began with the chief priests, scribes, and elders’ question about authority. The next two riddles present Jesus with questions from hostile interlocutors, Pharisees and Herodians (12:13–17) and Sadducees (12:18–27), and Jesus—unlike the authorities in Mark 11—ably answers their questions, thereby demonstrating his superior wisdom. The third riddle, posed by a scribe but without the strong sense of opposition that characterizes every other engagement with scribes in Mark and every other opponent in Mark 12, asks which commandment of Israel’s Torah “is the first of all” (12:28). Jesus’s answer affirms the centrality of Torah as the covenant between Israel and YHWH and in no way marginalizes “the law” as obsolete or outdated: “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.” [Deut 6:4–5] The second is this, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” [Lev 19:18] There is no other commandment greater than these’” (12:29–31). Surprisingly, the scribe affirms and advances Jesus’s answer, noting that love of God and of neighbor “is much more important than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices” (12:33). This is the only conciliatory scene in Mark 11–13: the narrator describes the scribe’s response to Jesus as wise (nounechōs; “wisely, thoughtfully”), and Jesus affirms the scribe’s location “not far from the kingdom of God” (12:34; cf. 1:15). At this, Jesus’s opponents fall silent; they concede the riddling session to Jesus. This, too, is a sign of judgment against the temple and its administration, and it is only compounded by Jesus’s own riddle (12:35–37), which the temple authorities do not answer, to the delight of the large crowd (12:37). (13:1–37) Mark 13 brings the section on Jesus and the temple to a close. This chapter comprises Jesus’s lengthiest monologue in Mark, so its focus on the temple is particularly significant. And here the temple’s destruction is, if anything, even more vivid than the fig tree and vineyard imagery in Mark 11–12. “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down. . . . But when you see the desolating sacrilege set up where it ought not to be (let the reader understand), then those in Judea must flee to the mountains. . . . Pray that it may not be in winter. For in those days there will be suffering, such as has not been from the beginning of the creation that God created until now, no, and never will be. And if the Lord had not cut short

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those days, no one would be saved; but for the sake of the elect, whom he chose, he has cut short those days” (13:2, 14, 18–20). The realization of God’s reign and the localization of his presence among his people shifts from the temple to Jesus himself and the ingroup of his followers. Christ remains at the center of Mark 13’s cosmic drama. He instructs the disciples to expect to be handed over “because of me” (13:9), though they should also expect (apud 13:11) to be empowered to speak by the same Spirit with which the one who comes after John will baptize (1:8), blasphemy against whom will never be forgiven (3:29), and by which David himself addressed the Messiah, his son, as “lord” (12:36). Opposition will redound to the disciples “because of my name” (13:13). The Markan narrative gradually shifts his readers’ attention away from the Jerusalem temple and toward Jesus/the Son of Man, which serves to advance the narrator’s implicit argument that one of these entities will come to the end and the other will endure. “Both the temple and Jesus share the fate of destruction . . . but only one will come out the other side—Jesus, the new temple that will be the source and center of the eschatological restoration” (Gray, 151). Before we move on, we should clarify the claim that Jesus stands in for or (perhaps less helpfully) replaces the temple. Christian history includes an unfortunate—even tragic—tradition of reading Jesus and Christianity as the replacement and supersession of Judaism. Multiple facets of popular and academic views of Christian origins bear the marks of this tradition, including the now-outdated way of referring to Second Temple Judaism as “late Judaism” (Spätjudentum), the still-common reading of Rom 10:4 as Paul’s declaration of the “end” (telos) of the Law, and the seemingly ascendant tendency to affirm that Jesus and his followers (esp. Paul) “transformed” Jewish institutions and theologoumena. Aspects of this tradition are understandable, especially inasmuch as Christianity is the term we use to refer to Jesus’s legacy and impact. When, however, Christianity comes to be defined in distinction—even opposition—to Judaism, we obscure the nt texts, which were written by Jews and are about Jews. The Markan narrative, written around the time of the Romans’ destruction of Jerusalem’s temple in 70 CE (see above), can be read not as a polemical attack against Judaism but rather as a pastoral encouragement in the face of very real threats against one of Judaism’s central institutions (for a similar point vis-à-vis the book of Hebrews, see Rodríguez, Jesus, 129–40). Even a generation before 70 CE, however, during Jesus’s lifetime in the late 20s/early 30s, the Markan Jesus’s prophetic condemnation of the temple makes sense as an intra-Jewish critique of the temple’s administration. The Jews who gathered at Qumran and who preserved texts in caves near the Dead Sea, for example, were capable of leveling quite striking judgments against the temple (including references to a “Wicked Priest”; e.g., 1QpHab 8.8) without imagining that either the temple or Judaism tout court had become obsolete. In light of our own locations as readers of Mark (viz., twenty-first century, largely Western readers), we must take special care to see in Mark’s displacement of the temple and establishment of Jesus as the locus of God’s presence a thoroughly Jewish phenomenon.

The Failure of the Ingroup (14:1–15:47) (14:1–11) Mark 14 presents a final turning point in the narrative. Jesus is still in Jerusalem, but the narrative focus has fully shifted from the temple’s destruction and onto Jesus’s passion. It is

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now two days before the Passover (14:1), and the temple authorities conspire not just with each other but also with Judas, one of the Twelve, to arrest and kill him (14:1–2, 10–11). In the midst of this conspiracy, an unnamed woman approaches Jesus and anoints him with “an alabaster jar of very costly ointment of nard” (14:3). Jesus explicitly links this act with his impending death and burial (14:8), which is itself linked with the proclamation the gospel (to euangelion) throughout the world (cf. 1:14–15; 8:35; 10:29; 13:10). Narratively speaking, the link between Jesus’s anointing and his burial reinforces for the reader the danger of the chief priests’ and Judas’s conspiracy, though of course the three passion-resurrection predictions in Mark 8–10 already provide the reader with a sense that the unfolding events all fall within the scope of Jesus’s knowledge and God’s plan. (14:12–31) Mark 14:12–31 provides a spartan account of Jesus’s observance of the Passover. Adela Yarbro Collins notes that 14:17–21 lacks “the typical features of a Passover meal” (Collins, 648). But we could turn this description on its head: Mark apparently does not feel the need to explain the elements of the Passover meal or their significance (cf. 7:3–4, where he explains Jewish customs to his readers). Contrast the lengthy discussion of the Passover Seder in m. Pesaḥ 10.1–9, which enumerates the food involved, the presentation of multiple cups of wine, and even (at least some of) the conversation appropriate to the occasion. The Passover meal had not yet developed into the full Seder service outlined in the Mishnah (second century CE). Even so, the meal Jesus shares with his disciples is ritually distinct and significant, as signaled by the unusual means of securing a place for eating the meal (14:13–16) and the designation of this meal as “the Passover” (to Pascha; 14:12). The various elements of this meal are redolent of Israel’s national story, but Mark leaves that story implicit and unstated, as background against which the dialogue between Jesus and the Twelve, in the next two paragraphs, comes to the fore. At the textual level, Mark’s account of the Passover meal in 14:22–25 makes little if any reference to the richly textured story implicit in the Passover. We should not, however, interpret “the institution of the Lord’s supper” (see the heading over 14:22–25 in the NRSV) without reference to that story, which provides the context within which Mark narrates Jesus’s final meal. The story of the Passover—of the salvation of Israel’s firstborn sons, the liberation of the nation from Egyptian slavery, and the institution of the Mosaic covenant in the wilderness—is part of the “cultural context” of communicative exchange between, first, Jesus and his disciples and, second, Mark and his audience (see Foley, 133). The most dramatic consequence of reading this meal within the context of a celebration of the Passover is that Jesus interprets the bread and the cup with reference to himself and his impending execution. For example, Deuteronomy explains the unleavened bread in terms of Israel’s slavery in Egypt and their sudden departure into the wilderness. “For seven days you shall eat unleavened bread with it—the bread of affliction—because you came out of the land of Egypt in great haste, so that all the days of your life you may remember the day of your departure from the land of Egypt” (Deut 16:3). Mark, however, explains the bread with a laconic reference to Jesus’s body: “Take, this is my body” (14:22). Mark does not, thereby, strip the bread of its paschal significance; instead, he infuses Jesus’s body with paschal significance even as he reconfigures the Passover in terms of Jesus’s execution (sacrifice?). This reading of Jesus’s last meal, however, goes beyond investing Jesus and the Passover with surplus meaning. It also invests Mark’s audience with a particular identity vis-à-vis Israel, Israel’s covenant, and Jesus’s mediation of inclusion within Israel. “This [cup] is my blood of the 96

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covenant, which is poured out for many” (14:24). Within the narrative, the Twelve consume the “bread of affliction,” the broken body of Jesus, and drink from the cup of the covenant. When we consider the performance of the narrative within Mark’s community, the narrative enfolds the Markan audience into the end of v. 23: “and all drank from it” (NRSV modified). After the meal, Jesus and the disciples depart Jerusalem and walk to the Mount of Olives, across from the temple complex. With the temple hulking in the background, whose condemnation Jesus has clearly enacted and announced, Jesus predicts the disciples’ desertion. He has already announced that one of them would betray him, “one who is eating with me . . . one of the twelve, one who is dipping bread into the bowl with me” (14:17–21). Now he declares that all will abandon him. He picks up the apocalyptic prophecy of Zechariah, in which the faithful shepherd (“my shepherd . . . the man who is my associate”; Zech 13:7) is struck down, strangely, at YHWH’S command. Jesus heightens the scene’s oddity. In Zechariah, the Lord calls out to the sword and commands it to “strike the shepherd, that the sheep may be scattered” (Zech 13:7). In Mark, God himself promises to inflict the mortal blow: “I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered” (Mark 14:27). In the poem from which Jesus quotes (Zech 13:7–9), the striking and scattering leads to the refining of the remnant in the land, the one-third who survives the terrible ordeal. “They will call on my name, and I will answer them. I will say, ‘They are my people’; and they will say, ‘The Lord is our God’” (Zech 13:9). These themes follow on easily from the identification of Jesus’s body with the paschal “bread of affliction” and the cup of “my [Jesus’s] blood of the covenant.” In Mark, the destruction and restitution—and so also the refining?—applies explicitly to the disciples (Collins, 669–70). When Jesus, as shepherd (recall 6:34), is struck, the disciples, as sheep, will be scattered: “You will all become deserters” (14:27). But just as assuredly, the disciples will also be restored and will join Jesus, “after [he is] raised up,” in Galilee (14:28). Peter, perhaps not surprisingly, objects that he will not experience this process, but Jesus identifies Peter as the paradigmatic “scattered sheep” who will deny Jesus three times, and soon. (14:32–42) We come to the last scene before Jesus’s arrest. Still on the Mount of Olives (see 14:26), Jesus and the disciples go to “a placed called Gethsemane” (14:32). Jesus leaves the main body of his disciples and takes Peter, James, and John along with him to pray. To the former he says, “Sit here while I pray” (14:32); to the latter he charges, “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake” (14:34). When he finds them sleeping, he chastises them for being unable to stay awake and reiterates the charge: “Keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial” (14:38). Jesus’s repeated instruction—and the disciples’ repeated failure— recalls Jesus’s admonition at the end of Mark 13: “Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. . . . Therefore, keep awake . . . or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake” (13:33–37). The three disciples who witnessed the raising of Jairus’s daughter (5:37–43) and the Transfiguration (9:2–8) make a poor start at keeping awake. Mark thereby emphasizes Jesus’s solitude as the ingroup around him fails; even before his arrest and the disciples’ flight, Jesus suffers alone. Or nearly alone. Though Jesus has prayed on two other occasions in Mark (see 1:35; 6:46), this is the first time Mark narrates the content of Jesus’s prayer: “Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want” (14:36). The Greek transliteration of the Aramaic abba (“Father!”) has garnered considerable discussion. 97

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Despite popular notions to the contrary, the word does not mean “daddy,” though the contexts of Jesus’s prayer and of Paul’s uses of abba (Gal 4:6; Rom 8:15) do imply a level of familiarity or intimacy that should not be dismissed. For the third time Jesus affirms that “all things are possible” for God and/or the one who believes (14:36; see 9:23; 10:27), though we should note that, ironically, the specific content of Jesus’s request—“remove this cup from me”—is not possible (or at least is not what God wills). As Jesus prays that the hour might pass by him, his companions continue to sleep. To the very place in which he beseeches God, his betrayer approaches in the darkness. (14:50–72) Jesus’s arrest would seem to offer his followers a stark, binary option: side either with Judas or with those who stand with Jesus even at the peril of their lives. The appearance is false, however; all of Jesus’s companions, the one who wields the sword as much as the one who wields the kiss, betray and abandon Jesus. “All of them deserted him and fled” (14:50). The rest of ch. 14 is taken up with the second-to-last of Mark’s “sandwiches.” Peter follows Jesus “at a distance” into the high priest’s courtyard (14:53–54), where he will deny Jesus (14:66–72); between Peter’s pursuit and his denial, Mark inserts his account of Jesus’s trial before Jewish authorities (16:55–65). Here, at last, Mark accomplishes narratively what he has hinted at thematically. Mark has already described the disciples’ heart as hardened (6:52; 8:17), just as were the hearts of those who watched Jesus in a Galilean synagogue (3:5). He left it to readers, however, to recognize this point in common between Jesus’s friends and his enemies (see Middleton, 184– 85). At the end of Mark 14, immediately after the high priest declares Jesus’s words blasphemy and watches as Jesus is mocked, struck, and spat upon, Peter disassociates himself from Jesus and curses those who recognize him. In a striking set of parallels, Herod Antipas had been overcome by a young girl and his wife, and John the Baptist was executed (see 6:17–29). Now, like Herod, even the bravest and most steadfastly loyal of Jesus’s disciples (viz., Peter; see 14:29) is overcome by a slave girl (14:66, 69), and so Jesus will face his execution alone. (15:1–32) In 15:1, the Jewish authorities hand Jesus over to the Romans for trial and execution. The point bears some emphasis here. It has become fashionable in some circles to distance Jesus’s death from Jewish agency and to highlight crucifixion as a Roman form of execution. The impulse behind this move is laudable; “Jewish guilt” for the death of Jesus has served to legitimate repeated and horrific ideologies and acts of anti-Judaism and anti-Semitism. And perhaps there is room for historical imagination to mitigate Jewish participation in and responsibility for Jesus’s death. Mark—that is, the author of Mark, the earliest audiences of Mark, and the text of Mark’s Gospel—is neither anti-Semitic nor anti-Judaic; its polemic against any Jewish voice always comes from within Jewish culture, society, and discourse. Mark nowhere says the Jews killed Jesus, nor does he deny that any Jews killed Jesus. We do not need to distort our historical sources in order to reject previous distortions of those sources. That said, we should also recognize that Mark does not portray Pontius Pilate as an indecisive governor who acquiesces to the Jews’ demand to crucify Jesus. Pilate opens by asking Jesus a preposterous—from Rome’s point of view—question: “Are you the king of the Jews” (15:2). Recall that Jesus has been beaten, spat upon, and mocked by Jewish authorities; the likelihood that he resembled a man that anyone would mistake for a king, of the Jews or otherwise, is vanishingly low. Jesus’s opponents repeatedly address him as “king of the Jews” (Pilate: 15:2, 9, 12, 26 [titulus]; Roman soldiers: 15:18; chief priests and scribes: 15:32 [“the Messiah, the king of

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Israel”]), all of which overtly participate in Jesus’s “parodic exaltation” to the throne (see Marcus, “Crucifixion”). Moreover, the repeated epithet “king of the Jews” provides the mirror image of Mark’s own parodic—and repeated—references to Herod Antipas as “king” (see 6:14–29). By asking Jesus, “Are you the King of the Jews” (15:2), Pilate invites Jesus either to condemn himself by affirming the Jewish leaders’ accusations against him or to deny those accusations and affirm Rome’s authority over Judea. As in the riddling contests in Mark 12, Jesus here avoids Pilate’s trap by offering an ambiguous answer (“You say so”; 15:2). Unlike Jesus, however, the Jewish authorities step right into a parallel trap Pilate sets for them and affirm Rome’s authority over Judea. When Pilate asked if he should destroy “the king of the Jews,” the authorities “stirred up the crowd” to petition for the release of Barabbas, a murderer and insurrectionist (15:6–11), and to call for the crucifixion of the man who restored sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf, who restored the lame, cleansed the leprous, healed the sick, released the oppressed, and twice restored the dead to life. Here is the crowd, under the influence of the temple’s leadership, taking what is God’s and offering it to Caesar. The chief priests and scribes mock Jesus directly (15:31–32). They may think they are rejecting this pretender’s claims to be someone important. In the reality of Mark’s narrative, however, they align themselves with the pagan power structures that rule Judea and wreak havoc on the lives of its people, and they reject the beloved, well-pleasing Son of God to whom they should listen (see 1:11; 9:7). (15:33–39) Jesus dies in the presence of bystanders (i.e., without any of his friends or followers nearby). After six hours on the cross (see 15:25, 33–34), Jesus cries out in Aramaic, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (15:34). Jesus’s words should not be taken as a cry of abandonment. Psalm 22, whose opening line Jesus has quoted, is both a deeply authentic cry of despair in the face of suffering and an affirmation of unyielding trust and confidence in the deliverance of God. At Jesus’s death, Mark reports: “the curtain of the temple was torn (schizō) in two, from top to bottom” (15:38). This is the second “tearing” in Mark; in 1:10, as he was coming up out of the Jordan after his baptism, Jesus “saw the heavens torn apart” (schizō). In the earlier tearing, the Spirit of God invaded the realm of humans in the form of a dove. If the two tearings are parallel, we should probably understand the later tearing in terms of the presence of God bursting out of temple’s sacred precincts into (and beyond) the surrounding courts. Another common interpretation reads the curtain tearing in terms of opening up access to God’s presence beyond the temple priesthood. Whatever the precise significance of the temple curtain’s rending “from top to bottom,” the death of Jesus is intimately connected to the event. Moreover, in light of the Markan Jesus’s thoroughgoing critique of the temple, his prophetic demonstration and announcement of its impending destruction, and his taking on its role as the locus of God’s presence, the tearing of the curtain should probably be read as proleptic destruction (see the discussion in Collins, 759–64, though she denies the torn curtain is a sign of destruction). In contrast to the sardonic references to Jesus as “king” (basileus), a Roman centurion who witnessed the manner of Jesus’s death declares, “Truly this man was the son of God” (huios theou; 15:39 [NRSV modified]). (15:40–47) Mark’s account of Jesus’s death ends on a surprising note. “There were also women looking on from a distance; among them were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James

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the younger and of Joses, and Salome. These used to follow him and provided for him when he was in Galilee; and there were many other women who had come up with him to Jerusalem” (15:40–41). A number of things stand out. First, it seems that not all of Jesus’s disciples have fled and abandoned him (pace 14:50), though these women’s location “from a distance” is explicitly noted. Second, these women are not recent additions to Jesus’s followers; they have been with Jesus since he was in Galilee, when the Twelve also were appointed and commissioned to be with Jesus, to preach the gospel, and to heal and cast out demons (see 3:14–15). Third, and following from the previous point, these women have been part of (and participants of?) Jesus’s ministry since Galilee. As we read the accounts of Jesus feeding crowds in the wilderness, or healing the sick, or telling parables, or casting out demons, or arguing with his opponents, women were there, though Mark did not note their presence until 15:40–41! And fourth, these women had been with Jesus throughout his time in Jerusalem. In this they are just like Jesus’s male disciples. But they become remarkable now precisely because they are different from Jesus’s male disciples. None of the male disciples—according to Mark—are witnesses to Jesus’s crucifixion; but at least some of Jesus’s female disciples (two women named Mary as well as Salome, but also “many other women”) are witnesses. And this will become even more important in the next chapter. Mark 15 ends with a note about Jesus’s burial. Even in burial, Jesus is a Torah-observant Jew among other Torah-observant Jews (see Crossley). In part because of his surprisingly quick death, Jesus is taken down from the cross and buried before the Sabbath. But he is buried in haste because he dies so late vis-à-vis the advent of the Sabbath, and the women will return to Jesus’s tomb in Mark 16 in order to attend to the responsibilities to care for Jesus’s body.

The Renewal of the Ingroup (16:1–8) And that is how Mark 16 opens: with the two Marys and Salome coming to attend to Jesus’s body. (Mark’s readers, of course, know that a woman has already anointed Jesus’s body [see 14:8], and besides, Jesus declared three times that the Son of Man would be raised after three days [see 8:31; 9:31; 10:33–34].) The women approach Jesus’s tomb in the light of the rising sun, unsure how they will get past the stone that sealed the entrance. And when they arrive, they find the stone, “which was very large” (16:4), already removed. Mark does not mention the women’s reaction to this unexpected situation. Instead, he merely says, “as they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side” (16:5). The young man is clearly an angelic figure; his features are described in standard angelophanic terms, and his function as an interpreter of events also is standard for angelic descriptions (see Collins, 795–96). His announcement to the women takes two verses: “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you” (16:6–7).The various extant endings to Mark’s Gospel beyond 16:8 all appear to be late and secondary. Collins describes 16:8 as “the earliest recoverable ending” of Mark (Collins, 797), a description that leaves room for skepticism that Mark originally ended at v. 8 but that acknowledges that none of the extant endings beyond v. 8 are original. For this reason, the angel’s announcement that Jesus “has been raised; he is not here . . . he is going ahead

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of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you” is the closest we get in Mark to an appearance of the resurrected Jesus. In this Gospel, readers are left to rely on Jesus’s repeated declarations that the Son of Man would be raised “after three days” (again, see 8:31; 9:31; 10:33–34), as well as his promise that he would go ahead of the disciples to Galilee and meet them there (see 14:28) and the angel’s reminder of that promise (16:7). Will Mark’s audience believe what they have heard? Or will the risen Jesus’s failure to appear on stage in Mark present an insurmountable obstacle to faith? The women, of course, flee from the tomb, “for terror and amazement had seized them.” And though the text ends with the ominous words, “they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid” (16:8), those words point beyond themselves to the women’s obedience to the young man’s instruction. Readers can only presume that the women certainly told others what they saw and heard; otherwise, neither their story nor, for that matter, Jesus’s story would be available for Mark to narrate for us. The story, then, ends the same as it ever was. Jesus’s followers are folded into the proclamation of the gospel Jesus preached (1:14–15) and to which he commissioned them (3:13–15) and for which he sent them out (6:7–13). They regularly fail (passim), but the failure of the ingroup is overshadowed by its renewal: their failure neither nullifies the gospel nor their commission nor their sending out. We saw this pattern repeatedly with the Twelve. Mark should not be surprised if we inferred it also for the women of Mark 16. The ingroup established by Mark’s Gospel is comprised of Jesus’ family, “whoever does the will of God” (3:35). Through the narrative’s twists and turns, we have observed members of that family failing, either to understand, to have faith, or even not to abandon Jesus, the story’s central protagonist. Perhaps, in the space provided by the women’s fear and silence as Mark 16:8 fades away, we can postulate that what distinguishes Jesus’ ingroup from “those outside” (see 3:31–32) is neither a constant nor a continual performance of the will of God. Perhaps what inscribes insiders as insiders is a regular or repeated reaffirmation of one’s desire to do the will of God, to—after having surrendered all one has (10:21)—take up one’s cross and follow him (10:34).

References Collins, Adela Yarbro. Mark: A Commentary. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007. Connerton, Paul. How Societies Remember. Themes in the Social Sciences. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989. Crossley, James G. The Date of Mark’s Gospel: Insight from the Law in Earliest Christianity. LNTS 266. London: T&T Clark, 2004. Edwards, James R. “Markan Sandwiches. The Significance of Interpolations in Markan Narratives.” Novum Testamentum 31 (1989): 193–216. Edwards, James R. The Gospel according to Mark. Pillar New Testament Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002. Esler, Philip F. “Group Norms and Prototypes in Matthew 5.3–12: A Social Identity Interpretation of the Matthaean Beatitudes.” Pages 147–71 in T&T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London: T&T Clark, 2014. Fine, Gary Alan. Difficult Reputations: Collective Memories of the Evil, Inept, and Controversial. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001.

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Foley, John Miles. The Singer of Tales in Performance. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1995. Goodacre, Mark S. The Case against Q: Studies in Markan Priority and the Synoptic Problem. Harrisburg: Trinity, 2002. Goodacre, Mark S. Thomas and the Gospels: The Case for Thomas’s Familiarity with the Synoptics. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012. Gray, C. Timothy. The Temple in the Gospel of Mark: A Study in Its Narrative Role. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2010. Jaffee, Martin S. Torah in the Mouth: Writing and Oral Tradition in Palestinian Judaism, 200 BCE–400 CE. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001. Kähler, Martin. The So-Called Historical Jesus and the Historic, Biblical Christ. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1964. Kok, Michael J. The Gospel on the Margins: The Reception of Mark in the Second Century. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015. Marcus, Joel. The Way of the Lord: Christological Exegesis of the Old Testament in the Gospel of Mark. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1992. Marcus, Joel. “Crucifixion as Parodic Exaltation.” Journal of Biblical Literature 125 (2006): 73–87. Middleton, Paul. “Suffering and the Creation of Christian Identity in the Gospel of Mark.” Pages 173–89 in T&T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London: T&T Clark, 2014. Moloney, Francis J. The Gospel of Mark: A Commentary. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002. Rhoads, David M., and Donald Michie. Mark as Story: An Introduction to the Narrative of a Gospel. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1982. Rodríguez, Rafael. “Reputation.” Pages 332–34 in The Dictionary of the Bible and Ancient Media. Edited by Tom Thatcher, Chris Keith, Raymond F. Person, Jr., and Elsie R. Stern. London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2017. Rodríguez, Rafael. Jesus Darkly: Remembering Jesus with the New Testament. Nashville: Abingdon, 2018. Vermes, Géza. The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls in English. London: Penguin, 2004. Watson, David F. Honor among Christians: The Cultural Key to the Messianic Secret. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2010. Watts, Rikki E. Isaiah’s New Exodus and Mark. WUNT 2/88. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997. Webb, Robert L. “Jesus’ Baptism by John: Its Historicity and Significance.” Pages 95–150 in Key Events in the Life of the Historical Jesus: A Collaborative Exploration of Context and Coherence. WUNT 247. Edited by Darrell L. Bock and Robert L. Webb. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009. Zimmermann, Ruben. Puzzling the Parables of Jesus: Methods and Interpretation. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015.

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Chapter  4

Luke Aaron Kuecker

Introduction The Gospel of Luke shapes a social identity characterized by enemy love and radical generosity. These characteristics can alternately be described as mercy, allocentrism, cruciform self-donation, and—strikingly—imitatio Dei (6:35–36). Jesus is the exemplar of this identity, which is formed and empowered by the Holy Spirit. Loyalty to Jesus, and to Jesus’s exemplary practices of enemy love and radical generosity, become the chief point of intergroup comparison in the text. Through consistent social creativity, Luke elevates these exemplary practices as the very things that secure positive social identity for members of the Jesus-group, even if they create social vulnerability within their narrative and social contexts. As they are practiced, these exemplary characteristics of Spirit-empowered identity make possible a community of diverse but reconciled others—which comes to full flower in the book of Acts. For this community, membership in the Jesus-group is a terminal identity that proactively retains ethnic particularity at a subgroup level, but that transcends ethnicity’s typically hegemonic status and intergroup intractability. These exemplary characteristics, the resulting community, and the community’s generous intergroup practices are possible only through the Spirit’s work. The Holy Spirit alone empowers human beings to see Jesus as exemplar, to participate in Jesus’s story, and—ultimately—to share in Jesus’s identity as the enemy-loving, radically generous Son of the Most High.

Author, Date, Occasion The most significant question about the composition history of Luke’s Gospel is its relationship to Acts. It remains the majority view that Luke and Acts are two volumes written by the same author. Counterarguments primarily have rested upon reception history. Specifically, Luke and Acts do not appear to have circulated together in the earliest centuries of reception. From very early days, Luke circulated with the fourfold Gospel. Acts, on the other hand, was obscure enough that Chrysostom prefaces both of his homiletical cycles on Acts by indicating that many of his hearers are unlikely to be aware of the text. My treatment of Luke and Acts assumes the unity of the two volumes. Formal literary concerns point in this direction, as Luke and Acts exemplify a convention in their prologues common to multivolume texts in antiquity (Alexander) as well as a chain-link rhetorical convention that stitches together the end of Luke and the beginning of Acts

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(Longenecker, Rhetoric, 166–67). Thematically, Luke and Acts share concern about the situation of Jesus-following communities in the Roman world, the relationship between wealth, status, and ethnic identity within these communities, and—importantly—the role of the Holy Spirit in the events of the Gospel and life of the early communities of Jesus-followers. The trajectory of Luke calls for Acts in the same way that Acts builds upon the Lukan foundation. An important subsidiary question is whether or not Luke himself was a member of one of the early Jesus communities and/or a participant in some of the events described in the text. The Lukan prologue positions Luke within the community of people among whom the events associated with Jesus have taken place. Luke references the events “that have been fulfilled among us” (1:1). This subtle hint is amplified by the famous “we” sections beginning in Acts 16, which incorporate the narrator into many events in the latter half of Acts. There is insufficient internal or external evidence to determine the historicity of the “we” claims in Acts. Regardless, it was important for the author of Luke-Acts to indicate he was close to the community implicated by Jesus’s life. While modern historiography privileges the outsider’s view of events, ancient historiography privileges the insider’s view of events (Bauckham, 21–30), a convention Luke embraces. Luke is the only canonical Gospel to designate its recipient. Luke and Acts are dedicated to Theophilus, who is given the honorific “most excellent” (1:3). Nothing is known about Theophilus, or whether the name—meaning either “God-lover” or “Beloved-by-God”—is representative of a larger group. I assert that Theophilus is an actual person and that the concerns Luke writes were both particular to Theophilus and shared by many in the Roman world drawn into the circle of Jesus’s followers. “Most excellent” suggests Theophilus was a higher-status member of society, and it has been common to suggest Theophilus was Luke’s patron and financial supporter throughout the production of the Gospel. We need not press a mirror reading hard to see how Luke-Acts tends to salient concerns for persons of status. Luke-Acts demonstrates remarkable concern for identity, status, and social boundary crossing. Though often lauded as the “Gospel for the poor,” Luke incorporates every type of person into the community of Jesus-followers: rich and poor, male and female, Israelites and non-Israelites, those who resist the empire and those implicated in imperial violence, ritually clean and unclean, righteous and unrighteous, and those at the centers of power in Rome or its client kingdoms and those hopelessly removed from structures of power. I argue the “certainty” (asphaleia, 1:4) Luke hopes to provide Theophilus and all hearers of the text is reassurance that the social ramifications of Jesus’s life and teaching are worth the risk of their inevitably alienating effect within Roman social structures. Luke wants to grant Theophilus “certainty” that the community that inhabits and exemplifies the kingdom inaugurated by Jesus is not deviant, illogical, or absurd. Rather, “the events that have been fulfilled among us” (1:1) initiate a new way of being human together in community. It is a radically other-centered mode of being that disregards Roman status-distinctions, eschews violence, seeks reconciliation, shares resources generously, and—in its very existence—participates in and bears witness to the faithfulness of Israel’s God to all humans. Luke addressed concerns particular to a high-status Roman citizen, but in a social world stratified according to honor-shame concerns, these issues would be relevant to almost anyone. Can a poor person be in familial fellowship with a rich person without being bound to patron-client restrictions? Can a rich person be in fellowship with a poor person without

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having their status eroded? Can an Israelite dine with a non-Israelite without running afoul of the Mosaic Law? Can a Roman citizen abandon participation in Roman civic/religious festivals without being viewed as a social deviant? These questions are raised by the life of Jesus in Luke and the life of the community Acts. I assume that, while written for Theophilus, a higher-status Roman, Luke has in view the wonderfully mixed communities (mixed on the basis of ethnicity, gender, economic means, and social status) that emerge as his two-volume narrative unfolds. These small and powerless communities need the “certainty” of Luke 1:4 so they can persist in a world in which their existence—to borrow a phrase from Acts 17—looks like the world turned upside down. While a compelling case has been made for identifying the Synoptic Gospels as ancient biography (Burridge), the generic classification of Luke is complicated by its relationship to Acts and its clear historiographic tendencies. I see the two volumes as exemplifying ancient historiography, focused (as was often the case) on the life of great figures. Luke’s historiographic interest is underscored by the way he locates events in the Gospel and Acts in light of contemporary political realities and through his intimate knowledge of Roman jurisprudence (Rowe, 57). Luke acknowledges reliance upon “many” other versions of the narrative of Jesus. Significance is placed upon the fact that those early, orderly accounts, were handed on by eyewitnesses. Some have assumed Luke aims to compete with other Jesus-narratives, but the prologue does not provide grounds to assume an antagonistic relationship between Luke and other Gospels. Luke’s narrative is another “orderly account” (1:3) written after copious investigation. This complementary arrangement is made more plausible by Luke’s apparent reliance upon, and implicit affirmation of, Mark and maybe Matthew. Luke’s awareness of other narratives about Jesus gives little help in identifying a precise date of composition. I support the majority view that situates Luke later than Mark. Luke’s temporal relationship to Matthew is harder to discern and a chastened approach to claims about date and literary dependence is prudent. The fact that Luke’s Jesus gives the most detailed prediction of the fall of Jerusalem (19:41–44) pushes toward a post-70 date. My assumption that the same author is responsible for Luke and Acts pushes the earliest possible date for Luke to the mid60s, though the text is likely at least one decade (but likely several decades) later than that. It is enough to say that Luke is looking backward on the story of Jesus and the earliest communities of Jesus-followers.

Major Theological Themes A number of Luke’s particular concerns have already been named. I will also briefly mention Luke’s particular interest (1) in the role of the Holy Spirit in the ministry of Jesus and the life of the early community, (2) the intersection of the kingdom proclamation of Jesus and Israelite and Roman social structures, (3) the relationship between Jesus’s proclamation and the covenantal history of Israel, and (4) the role of material possessions in the kingdom of God and the early communities. These same issues are relevant in Acts, with additional nuance and emphases clarified in the introductory essay to that text.

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Social Identity Approach As a narrative account of the relationship between Jesus, the covenantal history of Israel, and the emerging Jesus-groups in the Roman Empire, there is barely a pericope in Luke or Acts that does not bear upon the social identities of its hearers. The goal of my approach is to use the theoretical resources from SIT to ask questions designed to excavate meaning, and not merely to label social phenomena. A theoretical apparatus should generate new questions, expose our latent biases, and provide theoretical precision when speaking about complex social phenomena such as identity. SIT is diverse, complex, and highly nuanced. Many branches of its theoretical apparatus are powerful heuristic tools for approaching a Gospel narrative. In this approach to Luke, I will utilize five basic aspects of SIT. (1) Social identity emerges from intergroup differentiation. SIT shows that groups tend to evaluate themselves positively in light of proximate outgroups. This intergroup differentiation can—but does not necessarily—lead to outgroup derogation. This approach will tend to the intersection of social boundaries as it relates to social identity. (2) Prototypes and exemplars as they relate to social identity formation and the boundary-marking practices of groups and group members. (3) Social creativity as a means by which groups with low status reframe the comparative criteria upon which they differentiate themselves from proximate outgroups. (4) Nested identity as a phenomenon in which a person can have multiple identities underneath an orienting terminal identity. These subgroup identities can remain salient and are activated in particular social settings. (5) Intergroup reconciliation through the formation of a superordinate social identity that retains subgroup salience.

Use of Ethnic Language in This Text Luke is remarkably careful with the way he categorizes groups and persons, and this commentary attempts to track his social concerns related to his categorical language. Please refer to the introductory material on Acts for an orientation to the way that ethnic language will be deployed in Luke.

Literary Structure Interpreters tend to structure both Luke and Acts according to geography. For Luke, following the birth narratives, this places major seams at the turn from Galilee to Judea (Luke 9:51) and the entry into Jerusalem (Luke 19:28). I follow this basic outline, but the first-level headings in the commentary are tuned to identity-related concerns. While the geography is important, even more significant are the intergroup encounters that are keyed to geographic, regional, and ethnic identity. Readers of Acts in this commentary will note the same phenomenon. Acts is typically arranged according to Acts 1:8, with literary structures assumed to follow its “Jerusalem, Judea and Samaria, and ends of the earth” outline. There, too, the first-level headings show that geography is mostly important as it implicates intergroup social contact.

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Commentary The Birth Narratives Connect Israelite Identity, the Spirit, and an Expanded Ethnic Horizon (1:1–2:52) (1:1–4) The Prologue Establishes Luke’s Shared Identity with His Audience Luke is the only Gospel author to explicitly acknowledge that there are “many” accounts of the life of Jesus available to early Jesus-groups. He honors the origins of other accounts, indicating “they were handed on to us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word” (1:2). Bauckham has demonstrated the significance of eyewitness testimony in ancient historiography, and Luke’s acknowledgment of their eyewitness basis is an overt affirmation of the significance of those accounts (Bauckham, 116–24). Just as Luke’s Jesus welcomes a remarkably diverse array of characters into the Jesus-following group, Luke’s approach to other narratives is incorporative: other accounts of Jesus remain significant. The prologue begins to forge a common social identity between Luke, his audience, and the wider Jesus-group. The use of the pronoun “us” in 1:1–4 moves Luke’s hearers in this direction. Luke is closely connected to the events about Jesus, which “have been fulfilled among us” (1:1). He is also closely related to his audience and those who have received other Jesus-stories, which were “handed on to us” (1:2). Luke positions himself inside of the group most implicated by the life of Jesus. Luke’s use of fulfillment language, “the events that have been fulfilled among us” (1:1), places his story of Jesus in a larger narrative context. “Fulfillment” assumes both a pre-history and a telos. Though the prologue does not specifically set this teleological fulfillment inside the story of Israel, the birth narratives immediately make this move. Luke’s stated purpose of providing Theophilus with asphaleian (“certainty”) gives a clue to the social identities of the hearers. I suggest Theophilus required “certainty” because membership in the Jesus-group carried implications for social identity and practice that sat awkwardly— even painfully—amid the constructions of identity in the Roman Empire. Theophilus bore risk in actualizing the social identity envisioned by Luke. Luke’s narrative provides certainty by demonstrating that God’s in-breaking work, through the life of Jesus and by the power of the Holy Spirit, has a community-forming logic that makes Theophilus’s risk well-founded. Luke’s narrative provides rationale for risking a different way of being human in a community, along with the identity-related ramifications that risk entailed. (1:5–25) Exemplary Israelite Identity and God’s Covenantal Faithfulness Luke provides political context for narrative events. His narrative begins “in the days of King Herod of Judea” (1:5). Herod, a Roman client king, was brilliant, violent, controversial, and panned by devout Israelites for his questionable lineage (Cohen, 24) and lax Israelite piety. Herod was the first to build temples to Augustus, constructing two temples for the imperial cult in Roman Judea (Josephus, War 1.403, 414) and Luke was well aware of his habitual use of violence to secure power (3:19; 9:9; 13:31). Mention of Herod sets the entire narrative in a context of identity threat for those whose social identity is formed through the Jesus-group. Identity threat, especially for

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those with low status, serves to strengthen ingroup bias and increase identity salience (Rothgerber, 1207–10). In the context of identity threat, Luke’s detailed introduction of Zechariah and Elizabeth foregrounds exemplary Israelite covenantal faithfulness. They share priestly lineage, are righteous before God, and live blamelessly according to the Mosaic Law. Zechariah and Elizabeth are the first among the numerous Israelites Luke deploys to situate the Jesus-story within the context of Israelite covenantal faithfulness and the Herodian menace. While Israelite identity will not guarantee participation in God’s reign through Jesus, God’s reign does not come apart from exemplary Israelite faithfulness. Exemplars, like Zechariah and Elizabeth, are members of the ingroup who embody in their person key characteristics identified with the ingroup. They are joined in their exemplary faithfulness by “the whole assembly of the people [that] was praying outside” (1:10) as Zechariah discharged his priestly ministry. In these opening verses, Luke situates the Gospel within the story of faithful Israel. Yet there are jarring disjunctions: righteous Zechariah and Elizabeth are barren (1:7), and the faithful assembly of praying people lives under Roman oppression. Zechariah and Elizabeth, personally, and the faithful Israelites, nationally, experience the lament voiced in Neh 9:36, “Here we are, slaves to this day—slaves in the land that you gave to our ancestors to enjoy its fruit and its good gifts.” In Israel’s covenantal imagination, righteousness and blessing, freedom and sovereignty in the land, are inseparable. But this is not the case for the priestly couple or the faithful people. Exemplary identity does not guarantee suffering-free existence. Gabriel’s appearance to Zechariah further embeds the Jesus-story within Israelite identity. Gabriel announces that Zechariah’s “prayer has been heard” (1:13): Elizabeth will bear a son. The text is elusive. Luke does not clarify the “prayer” to which the angel refers and the wider textual context complicates the common assumption that Zechariah’s prayer is for a child. The immediate response to Zechariah’s prayer is the birth of a son, which will simultaneously effect joy for “many” (1:14) and “turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God” (1:16). But, the only explicit praying prior to Gabriel’s appearance are the prayers of the people outside the temple. Acts 26:7 reports that Israel’s temple worship was geared toward hope in the God’s promises to Israel’s ancestors. Was Zechariah’s prayer personal petition for a son or priestly intercession for God’s covenantal fulfillment? The text’s ambiguity sets Zechariah’s personal story firmly within Israel’s covenantal story, and vice versa. God’s covenantal faithfulness to Israel is God’s means of faithfulness to Zechariah and Elizabeth. God’s faithfulness to Zechariah and Elizabeth is God’s means of covenantal faithfulness to Israel. John’s promised birth introduces significant Lukan themes. First, the initial mention of the Spirit—who will fill John in utero—already connects the Spirit to John’s vocation to prepare God’s people for the Lord’s coming by turning them toward righteousness and toward their children (cf. Mal 4:5–6). The work of the Spirit to turn people toward God and others is central to Luke’s pneumatology. Second, Zechariah’s inability to believe Gabriel’s announcement demonstrates that even exemplary Israelites cannot discern God’s action apart from God’s revealing work. Every person in Luke-Acts—even the most exemplary—is dependent upon God’s action through the Spirit in order to comprehend the “things fulfilled among us.” This Lukan theme has a leveling function, ensuring the ingroup of Jesus-followers has an identity formed by shared dependence on God’s apocalyptic revelation through Jesus. 108

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Finally, Luke’s account of the Jesus-community creates an identity that uniquely honors women. Even in his unreservedly patriarchal context, he declares that John’s birth removes Elizabeth’s “disgrace” among her people (1.25). Through Elizabeth’s own words, Luke shows the painful social consequences of barrenness. Elizabeth’s belief of Gabriel’s announcement is the first of many times that Luke will position women as exemplars within the Jesus-movement. (1:26–56) Mary’s Exemplary Faithfulness Facilitates the Revelation of Jesus’s Identity Luke’s interest in Jesus’s ethnic lineage and Israel’s covenantal identity continues with Gabriel’s annunciation to Mary. Mary’s fiancé Joseph is “of the house of David” (1:27). Gabriel’s greeting to Mary has significant identity-related ramifications for the rest of Luke and Acts. (1) The title and ascription of power given to Jesus create a canvas upon which Luke will sketch a new vision of power as it relates to privileged identity. (2) Mary’s exemplary faithfulness—especially in light of the social dislocation wrought by her pregnancy—highlights Luke’s assumption that those with little status in the Roman world can be exemplary members of the Jesus-group. (3) We see the role of the Spirit in shaping identity and enabling people to recognize ingroup members. (4) The Magnificat elevates the covenantal identity of Israel through an act of social creativity. Gabriel names Jesus “Son of the Most High” (1:32). “Most High” is not a common name for God in Luke-Acts. It appears here, in Zechariah’s Benedictus (1:76), on the lips of Jesus (6:35), and from a demon-possessed character (8:28). In Acts, it appears in the speech of Stephen (Acts 7:48) and a demon-possessed girl (Acts 16:17). As the first title ascribed to Jesus, it clarifies his identity and establishes his relation to God. ‘upsistos was a common name for Zeus, so perhaps “Most High” polemically contends for the sovereignty of Israel’s God in this Roman context. Luke’s use of “Most High” in 6:35 syncs with 1:32 and is one of the most significant identityforming moments in the Gospel. Jesus’s identity as “Son of the Most High” entails high-status and remarkable power. The “Son of the Most High” will (1) be given the throne of David, (2) reign over the house of Jacob forever, (3) possess a kingdom with no end, and (4) be conceived by the power of the Spirit. This conferral of royal power and identity situates Jesus (and the Jesus-following community) in tenuous relationship to Roman imperial structures. Three final notes are in order. First, Mary’s clarifying question prompts Gabriel to restate Jesus’s identity also as “Son of God” (1:35). “Son of God” and “Son of the Most High” are synonymous, a fact that will be important in Luke 3, 4, and 6. Second, while the beginnings of the Jesus-movement are humble—an unwed girl in backwater Galilee—Jesus’s status is high. This presages the social creativity evident in subsequent portions of the Gospel. Third, while John is an important figure, Jesus possesses higher status at every turn. John is filled with the Holy Spirit in utero, but Jesus is conceived by the Spirit. John will be “great in the sight of the Lord” (1:15) but Jesus is “Son of the Most High” (1:32). Jesus himself is established as the exemplar for relatedness to the God of Israel. Mary’s exemplary response to the action of God, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word” (1:38), becomes a foundation of identity for the Jesus-group. “Hearing and doing the word of the Lord” is one trait that identifies a person as a member of the Jesus-group (see especially 8:21). Mary exemplifies this precisely as a powerless subject to the Roman Empire. Mary, an unwed—now illegitimately pregnant—member of an oppressed 109

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ethnic minority, demonstrates exemplary response to God. Luke does not hide the fact that proper response to God’s action carries tremendous social risk. Mary’s assent to bear the Son of the Most High risks her engagement, her honor, and her future financial security, should her premarital pregnancy prevent her marriage. For Theophilus, who may bear concern about the social dislocation attendant to participation in the Jesus-group, Mary is an exemplar of social identity that values the comparative criteria of obedience to the word of Israel’s God above Roman (or Israelite) social norms. Luke is beginning his work of social creativity, elevating low-status identity through intergroup comparison with proximate outgroups on criteria that are otherwise not valued. Mary’s social identity is elevated through social creativity with the comparative criterion “one who hears and does the word of the Lord.” Social creativity as an identity maintenance strategy continues with the Magnificat’s description of the covenantal faithfulness of Israel’s God who favors a lowly peasant girl (1:48), the lowly people of Israel (1:52), and the hungry (1:53). Those typically low-status social criteria are elevated by the Magnificat, creating alternative intergroup criteria for the Jesusgroup. This is an early indication that what is happening through Jesus will remake the social world. The God of Israel, his son Jesus, and those who join their people will not map identity in ways typical to Roman or Israelite social constellations. The ethnic origins of the group are also displayed in the Magnificat. God’s action is for Israel. “He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors (lit., “our fathers”), to Abraham and to his descendants (lit., “his seed”) for ever” (1:54–55). The Jesus-movement emerges from within ethnic Israel’s covenantal story. Luke’s insistence on the Israelite origins of the group increases the status of the Israelite ingroup, even in a context of Roman oppression. The centrality of the Israelite origins of the Jesus-group anticipates the gravity of the ethnic boundaries crossed in Luke-Acts. SIT—and routine human experience— repeatedly demonstrates that the boundary between ethnic identities is frequently marked by antagonism and violence due to normal comparative processes by which ingroups are favorably evaluated and outgroups are less positively evaluated. Luke offers two initial indications about the work of the Spirit in the Jesus-narrative. John will be filled with the Spirit before his birth (1:15) and Jesus will be conceived when the Spirit comes upon Mary (1:35). The role of the Spirit is given initial clarification when Mary visits Elizabeth in 1:39–45. There, Elizabeth’s recognition of the identity of the yet-to-be-born Jesus (she calls Mary “the mother of my Lord,” 1:43) is based upon John’s in utero response. When Mary approaches Elizabeth, John leaps for joy. This is the first of many times that we will see the unequivocal necessity of the Spirit (or of Spirit-empowered characters) for recognizing Jesus and those belonging to the Jesus-group. (1:57–80) John’s Birth Destabilizes Patrilineal Assumptions and Hints at a Social Identity Inclusive of Non-Israelites John’s birth reveals Luke does not view patrilineage as the sine qua non of social identity, a disposition contrary to the crowd’s insistence that he should be named Zechariah. They protest that “John” is not a name held by any “relatives” (sungeneias, 1:61). The scene demonstrates the power of familial identity for social identity. But Zechariah and Elizabeth exhibit the exemplary practice of hearing and doing the word of the Lord, submitting to the angel’s instruction: “You will name him John” (1:13). John’s eighth-day circumcision positions John firmly within Israelite identity and practice, yet his identity will be shaped by concerns 110

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larger than patrilineal descent. The text affirms Israelite identity, while also indicating that ethnic identity will be located within the larger orienting purposes of Israel’s God. Zechariah’s hymn (1:67–79) establishes an important social identity-related theme that connects the Holy Spirit and the incorporation of non-Israelites into God’s covenantal faithfulness. Zechariah is specifically said to be filled with the Holy Spirit when he speaks in 1:69–78. The named presence of the Spirit gives Zechariah’s words narrative reliability whereas elsewhere in Luke, readers must discern the reliability of characters’ speech. The text makes a marked intergroup comparison. God is faithful to the Israelite ingroup, which is differentiated from “enemies.” God’s work is for “us”: the people of Israel related to David and the covenant father Abraham. Ingroup bias like this (especially modulated through enemy language in 1:71, 74) would lead us to expect outgroup derogation. But when the Spirit is active, social processes are transformed. Two mediating factors are important for Luke’s view of outgroups. First, as Luke-Acts unfolds, God’s treatment of enemies through Jesus is increasingly surprising, and enemy love will become a central identity marker of the Jesus-group. Second, Zechariah’s song hints that God’s lightbringing work will have expansive social scope. Echoing Isaiah, Zechariah says that the coming of Jesus will “give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death” (1:79). The use of this Isaianic text in Acts assumes that non-Israelites are included in this group (see Acts 13:47; 26:16–18, 22–23). Zechariah proclaims salvation is for Israel but also through Israel while speaking under the influence of the Holy Spirit. (2:1–20) Identity Threat, the Birth of the King, and the Expansive Scope of Identity in Luke Jesus’s birth takes place during the reign of Caesar Augustus, the imperial overlord whose worldcommanding word moves peoples and nations. The specter of Roman imperial power at Jesus’s birth heightens identity threat for the early community, whose vulnerability matched that of the Son of the Most High and his low-status parents. According to SIT, groups experiencing identity threat or low ingroup status have three options: (1) social mobility, whereby groups or group members merge with a high-status group, (2) social conflict, or (3) social creativity, whereby groups select alternate comparative criteria for intergroup comparison. Luke’s dominant strategy for elevating the status of the ingroup is social creativity with identity markers that sit tenuously—even dangerously—in the Roman imperial context. The choice of shepherds as the first recipients of Jesus’s birth announcement narratively enacts the Magnificat’s program of reversal in favor of the lowly. The announcement has important features for Luke’s identity-forming work. (1) The word of the first angel is directed to Israel: “I am bringing good news of great joy for all the people” (2:10). laos is Luke’s typical cognomen for ethnic Israel, usually amplified by the direct object (see 1:68, 77). The reference to the “city of David” amplifies the Israel-centric focus (2:11). (2) But when the angelic choir arrives, Luke indicates that all humans will be blessed: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among humans (anthrōpois) whom he favors” (2:14). An important textual variant (eudokia) survives in genitive and nominative cases in the manuscript tradition. These readings are rendered, respectively, “peace among those whom he favors,” or “peace among people—good will.” The former circumscribes “peace” to those who are favored by God, which on first glance seems more restrictive. But of greatest interest from an identity perspective is Luke’s choice of anthrōpois, the word for all human beings, as those to whom 111

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God’s imperial announcement (euangelion) of peace has come. Luke deliberately names social groups. He deploys “Israel” for the people descended from Abraham, except when Israelites are speaking to non-Israelites. In those scenes they use “Judean,” the name offered by Rome based on their territory. Luke reserves familial designations (brother, sister, father) solely for the Israelite ethnic ingroup until a key moment in Acts. He reserves “people” (laos) for Israel but applies “humans” (anthrōpois) universally. Luke will come to powerfully deploy these group categories to demonstrate a Jesus-following identity that affirms, yet chastens and transcends ethnicity as a terminal identity. The angels amplify Zechariah’s word of “peace” that will, in a manner yet to be described, extend to all humans. Luke-Acts is the narrative unfolding of this angelic claim. (2:21–40) Exemplary Israelite Identity, Inspired by the Spirit, Opens toward Non-Israelites The Jesus-narrative continues to emerge from exemplary Israelite faithfulness. Joseph and Mary follow Mosaic Law by presenting Jesus for eighth-day naming and circumcision (2:22–23). The sacrifice of a pair of doves foregrounds Mary and Joseph’s limited financial means (2:24). They, too, are the lowly through whom God is working. The narrative about Simeon—another exemplary Israelite—is remarkable for the three times Luke asserts the Spirit’s influence. (1) The Holy Spirit rested on him. (2) The Spirit revealed to him that he would see the Lord’s anointed before his death. (3) The Spirit guided Simeon into the temple on the day of Jesus’s dedication. Luke could hardly make clearer the fact that Simeon is an authorized speaker. Simeon’s ability to recognize the infant as the Lord’s anointed demonstrates Luke’s insistence that only the Spirit can ensure (even exemplary) Israelites recognize Jesus. Simeon’s song explains that God’s salvation is “prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the non-Israelites and glory to your people Israel” (2:31–32). It is Luke’s clearest statement yet that God’s action through Jesus will simultaneously affirm Israel’s highstatus covenantal identity and include non-Israelites. Simeon’s designation of Jesus as “a light for revelation to the non-Israelites” (2:32), set in proximity to Zechariah’s claim that the dawn from on high will “give light to those who sit in darkness” (1:79) solidifies the claim that Zechariah, too, views non-Israelites as recipients of divine light. Typical social identity processes limit benefits of ingroup identity to the ingroup, but here a larger social horizon is in view. Luke is making an argument—using exemplary Israelite characters aided by the Spirit—that properly oriented Israelite covenantal identity has a horizon that transcends itself. Luke elevates the significance of traditional Israelite practices and piety, and then shows how identity forged within the Israelite ingroup can have space for non-Israelites. It is yet to be determined whether non-Israelites can enter the Jesus-group as non-Israelites or whether Israelite identity will remain the central identity marker. An initial hint about this latter issue lies in Simeon’s assertion that Israelite identity, glorified by Jesus’s coming, will not be the sine qua non for relatedness to Jesus. Jesus “is destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel” (2:34). Israelite ethnic identity alone, contrary to the expectations of many, does not guarantee participation in the project of God’s anointed. Jesus’s circumcision at the temple ends with Anna, a widow and prophet from the prominent tribe of Asher who “never left the temple but worshipped there with fasting and prayer night and day” (2:37). Again, Luke highlights exemplary Israelite faithfulness. Seeing Jesus prompted Anna to “speak about him to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem” (2:38). 112

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If we zoom out to the larger structure of birth hymns, a fascinating chiasm emerges. Though Luke in no way downgrades the exultations of Mary and Anna, he explicitly ascribes the influence of the Spirit to the songs of Zechariah and Simeon. Mary and Anna, forming the outer ring of a chiastic structure, proclaim that Jesus is God’s mode of covenantal faithfulness to Israel. Zechariah and Simeon, the second ring of the structure, inspired by the Spirit, proclaim Jesus as God’s mode of covenantal faithfulness to Israel and an illuminating light to non-Israelites. The angelic choir, the chiasm’s center, announces God’s peace to all favored humans, apart from any ethnic distinction. The contrast between the outer and the second ring of the chiasm hints at Luke’s conviction that the Spirit is necessary for expressions of Israelite identity that extend benefits of God’s covenantal faithfulness to non-Israelites. Mary and Anna are not wrong for celebrating the good of Israel. The Spirit, though, enlarges the ethnic imagination of both Zechariah and Simeon. (2:41–52) Jesus’s Exemplary Faithfulness Further Destabilizes Kinship Assumptions The exemplary Israelite faithfulness of Jesus’s family continues into his twelfth year when their family travels to Jerusalem for the Passover. After the festival, Jesus secretly stays behind while his parents depart for Galilee. His panicked parents discover him “in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers” (2:46–47). Jesus’s apparent disobedience likely caused social shame for Joseph and Mary. Jesus’s answer to Mary’s question is remarkable, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” Jesus’s identity is formed not through traditional kinship, but in relationship to Israel’s God, who Jesus knows as “my Father.” Luke will continue to develop themes whereby genealogical descent is not an effective means for securing social identity within the Jesus-group.

Jesus’s Exemplary Identity as the Son of God (3:1–6:11) (3:1–14) John the Baptist Describes an Intergroup Posture Fitting for the Gospel Luke again begins a narrative section with identity threat rooted in Roman oppression. 3:1–2 feature Luke’s most complete description of the contemporary political realities: Tiberias’s imperial reign, Pilate’s Judean governorship, and the tetrarchies of the client rulers, Herod, Philip, and Lysanias. More surprising is Luke’s naming of the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, whose inclusion alongside the unflattering list of Roman leaders and clients positions them as a source of identity threat for the Israelite ingroup. The reality of identity threat both opens and closes this passage. In 3:18–20, John is imprisoned by Herod. The wilderness setting of John’s ministry and Jesus’s subsequent temptation connect the narrative to Israel’s covenantal history. For Israel, the wilderness evoked divine provision in a context of vulnerability. The exodus themes on display along with Luke’s quotation of Isa 40, a significant wilderness text declaring the end of Judah’s Babylonian exile, activates the paradigmatic delivery of God’s people. Advancing Gabriel’s prediction that John would “make ready a people prepared for the Lord” (1:17), Isa 40:3–5 declares the return of YHWH to Zion and, in its wider Isaianic context, the New Exodus deliverance of God’s covenant people. It extends the work of God to “all flesh” (pasa sarx), which is a further example of the socially expansive work God is doing through Jesus. 113

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John’s preaching has important ramifications for Luke’s identity-forming project. John’s prophetic critique of the “crowds” (3:7) exhorts them to “bear fruits worthy of repentance” and “good fruit” (3:8, 9). Fruit bearing is contrasted with passive reliance upon ethnic identity: “Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father’” (3:8). Luke’s vision for exemplary Israelite identity requires “fruit” and not simply ethnic relatedness. John’s tantalizing declaration, that “God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham” (3:8), implies that some who are not ethnically related to Abraham could have access to membership in the covenantal people of Israel’s God. John’s prophetic critique prompts repentance. Three different groups of people—the crowd, tax collectors, and soldiers—ask a version of the question, “What should we do?” Luke’s choice of these three groups is fascinating. The “crowds” are undifferentiated Israelites who have heard John’s preaching. “Tax collectors” are ethnic Israelites complicit in Roman economic oppression of Israel. “Soldiers” are most likely members of the Herodian guard, therefore Israelites. Tax collectors and Herodian soldiers are not exemplary and are likely complicit in the imperial oppression experienced by Israelites. The positive responses from these groups indicate that the horizon of inclusion for the Jesus-group will reach perhaps even to potential enemies of the ingroup. John’s response to the three repentant groups, read as an example of bearing fruit rather than resting in ethnic covenantal privilege, is the leading edge of one of the most prominent identityrelated themes in Luke-Acts. Each group is instructed to refrain from exploiting their identity, power, or resources for selfish gain or to the detriment of others, and instead to deploy resources for the flourishing of others: (1) “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise” (3:11); (2) “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you” (3:13), and (3) “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation” (3:14). In each case, power and resources are not to be leveraged for selfish exploitation. “Bearing fruit” is thus equated with using power or identity for the good of others and is contrasted with using Abrahamic identity only as a source of privilege. One of the dark sides of typical social identity processes is that, because positive ingroup identity comes through intergroup comparison, groups tend to preserve identity- or status-related privilege for members of the ingroup (Wenzel, 317). But the social identity envisioned by Luke crafts an identity in which privilege is leveraged for the good of the other. (3:15–22) Jesus’s Baptism Is a Public Declaration of His Identity John exemplifies unwillingness to use privilege for selfish exploitation. The gathering crowds wonder whether John might be the anointed of God. Rather than exploit burgeoning fame for selfish gain, John deflects attention to Jesus, the more powerful one who “is coming” (3:16). John’s final saying in this pericope is regularly misread. While most translations read ptuon as “winnowing fork,” it is likely “winnowing shovel” (3:17). A winnowing fork is used for the act of threshing, while a winnowing shovel is used to move already separated grain into storage. Taken this way, John’s preparatory work (cf. Luke 1:17, 76) is already complete. Those who have responded to John’s message are prepared for Jesus’s coming, who will now gather them (cf. 7:29–30). The completeness of John’s work elevates the urgency of “fruit bearing” manifest in leveraging one’s resources, privilege, and status for the sake of others. This, for John, is the posture that prepares people for Jesus’s coming. 114

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Jesus’s baptism is described briefly, but with two important features for identity. In contrast with Mark and Matthew (where Jesus sees the Spirit descending like a dove), in Luke the Spirit’s dove-like descent is a public display (3:22). This highlights Luke’s emphasis on the Spirit as the key public witness to a person’s identity. Jesus, in an exemplary way, is the Spirit-marked Son of God. Second, the baptismal identification of Jesus, “You are my son, the beloved, with you I am well-pleased” (3:22), initiates extensive narrative focus on Jesus’s “Son of God” identity and the practices inherent in that identity. (3:23–38) The Lukan Genealogy and Jesus’s Universal Relatedness Genealogies played an important identity-marking role in the ancient world. In collectivistic contexts, knowledge of one’s people was enough to make many assumptions about the characteristics of a particular group member. Matthew’s genealogy establishes Jesus as the true Israelite, paradigmatically related to Abraham and David. Luke’s genealogy has a different social function, relativizing Jesus’s patrilineal connection to Joseph: “He was the son (as was thought) of Joseph” (3:23). Biological kinship is not the definitive marker of Jesus’s identity, a factor that will be important for the trans-ethnic social identity Luke describes in Acts. Luke traces Jesus’s lineage as “son of Adam, son of God” (3:38). The ethnic reasoning of the genealogy is remarkable. Jesus’s relatedness to Adam entails relatedness to all human beings. (4:1–13) Jesus’s Identity as Son Of God Is Put to the Test The Annunciation and Jesus’s baptism reveal that Jesus’s identity as Son of God is inseparable from the Spirit’s presence. In the wilderness temptation, Luke offers a narrative exemplification of Jesus’s Spirit-activated Son of God identity. Jesus will emerge as the faithful Israelite in the wilderness precisely by virtue of his commitment to hear and do the word of God rather than exploit his power, identity, or status for personal gain. The Spirit’s role in the actualization of Jesus’s identity is foregrounded in the wilderness testing. Jesus is “led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil” (4:1–2). For Luke’s certainty-seeking audience, it is notable that following the Spirit does not insulate one from testing. The resonances in this text with Israel’s wilderness testing are manifold. The number forty, the wilderness setting, and concern with food in the wilderness all echo Israel’s post-Egypt experience. In contrast to Israel’s wilderness faithlessness, marked by complaining and by reticence to believe in God’s life-sustaining gifts, Jesus is faithful in the wilderness. This is best seen in the intertextual resonances with texts specifically related to Israel’s wilderness failures. The identity-shaping force of this narrative is profound and establishes Jesus as the Spirit-powered exemplar for the proper deployment of identity, power, or resources. The narrative is framed by two “If you are the Son of God” temptations, which draw a structural link to the Son of God language in chs 1 and 3 and highlight the salience of Jesus’s exalted Son of God identity. Each of the three temptations provide Jesus an opportunity to leverage identity, power, or resources for self-benefit. “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread” (4:3). Matthew’s account of this temptation challenges Jesus to produce many loaves of bread, a temptation to a manna-like miracle to counter Caesar’s provision of bread for imperial subjects. Luke’s version is far more personal. Jesus was “famished” (4:2) and Satan tested Jesus to provide just a single loaf, using his power to tend solely to his own needs. Jesus resists the temptation, citing Deut 8:3, “One

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does not live by bread alone.” The wider co-text of Deut 8:3 describes God’s humbling of Israel by letting them hunger in the wilderness. They responded to their hunger with complaining, doubt, and sedition. Jesus, however, trusts in God’s promised provision. He will await God’s provision rather that deploy his power to meet his own needs. The second temptation provides Jesus opportunity to immediately acquire the power that will eventually be given to him by the Father. Luke’s hearers know, based on the Annunciation, that the devil offers Jesus kingly authority that will already be his. Jesus responds with Deut 6:13, “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.” The wider co-text of Deut 6:13 is the famous Shema, which unfolds into an urgent reminder that Israel not forget the Lord’s delivering work, but instead worship the Lord alone. While Israel would regularly forget the Lord and find itself lured toward other gods, Jesus remained loyal in the wilderness. The final test returns explicitly to Jesus’s identity: “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here” (4:9). The devil cites Ps 91’s promised deliverance for God’s anointed. Viewed through the lens of identity, Jesus is tested to exploit his relationship to God—“If you are the Son of God”—by taking a risk that would reveal his exalted identity in a miraculous manner. Jesus cites Deut 6:16 in response, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.” The wider co-text of Deut 6:16 is the Israelites’ testing of the Lord at Massah. There, the complaints of Israel tested the Lord’s strength and resolve. Jesus, however, is unwilling to use his exalted status to force the hand of the Father. At every turn in the wilderness temptation, the Spirit-driven Son of God refuses to exploit identity, power, status, or resources for selfish gain. This is uniquely related to the Spirit’s presence and will become the central facet of Jesus’s exemplary identity. (4:14–30) Jesus Resists His Townsfolk’s Assumptions about Ingroup Identity and Resource Allocation Jesus left the wilderness “filled with the power of the Spirit” (4:14) and initiated a Galilean preaching tour that was unreservedly well-received by his ethnic kin. But Jesus’s positive reception was complicated by social identity dynamics in his hometown. Jesus’s preaching in the Nazareth synagogue is universally seen as programmatic in Luke’s Gospel. It is Jesus’s first preaching, and the significance of (1) his use of Isa 61 and (2) his negotiation of the social dynamics in Nazareth can hardly be overstated. Luke names Jesus’s exemplary Israelite piety, noting it was his custom to attend the synagogue on the Sabbath. In a scene thick with anticipation, Jesus reads a text connected to Israel’s (never historically practiced) expectation of the Jubilee. The text, resonant with the Magnificat, describes the Spirit’s empowerment of a deliverer figure for service to the weak, disabled, or powerless: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor” (4:18–19). This Isaianic text certainly would have stoked hopes for liberation among Jesus’s townsfolk. Indeed, Luke’s account of Jesus’s reception in Nazareth varies significantly from Matthew and Mark, where Jesus’s townsfolk immediately impugn his low status, scandalized by Jesus’s questionable parentage. In Luke, the initial reception of Jesus is fully positive. In response to Jesus’s claim that the Isaianic text was “fulfilled in your hearing” (4:21), “All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth” (4:22). The force of the question about parentage in Luke differs from the other Synoptics. SIT helps explain why Luke’s 116

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crowd is eager that Jesus is Joseph’s son. Ingroup members regularly assume privileged access to resources held by a group member (Wenzel, 317). Further, honor accruing to a member of the ingroup—especially in collectivistic societies—increases the honor of the ingroup as a whole. But, this social expectation contradicts with the way Jesus has deployed his power with regard to his own well-being. Jesus is savvy enough to predict how his townsfolk will respond. The force of his response to them—in the form of an apparently well-known proverb—rebukes their assumption that their shared village identity gives them privileged access to goods Jesus will dispense. Jesus anticipates their move: “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say, ‘Do here also in your home town the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum’” (4:23). The parallel construction reveals the collectivistic assumptions that form the predictable social script: Doctor, cure yourself! Do here also in your home town the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum. “Yourself ” maps onto “here . . . in your home town.” Jesus understands that his townsfolk will make the assumption that their shared ingroup identity—privileged by virtue of the fact that they not only share Israelite (and more particularly, Galilean) identity, but also share village identity— will give them privileged access to the goods Jesus will dispense. But Jesus does not operate according to a narrative in which privileged identity is grounds for privileged access to power. He deploys another proverb, “Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s home town” (4:24). The reference to prophets, marked by their commitment to hear and do the word of the Lord, foregrounds Jesus’s loyalty in connection to the wider purposes of God rather than to common social scripts. Jesus illustrates his saying with examples of two northern prophets who exercised deeds of power for non-Israelites in need. Elijah, in a time of severe famine, was sent not to Israelites but to a non-Israelite widow at Zarephath. Elisha did not cleanse Israelite lepers, but cleansed Naaman the Syrian, a military commander for a hostile power. The activation of these remarkable stories of Israelites who, in obedience to the word of the Lord, extended the benefits of God beyond the boundaries of the ethnic ingroup serves as a powerful rebuke to the social script in Nazareth. Jesus’s transgression of the social boundary is so severe that the townspeople drive Jesus to a hill to throw him to his death, but he slips away. Jesus’s unwillingness to operate according to the social script of his townsfolk costs him his place among his people. Luke tells us that Jesus came to Nazareth, “where he had been brought up” (4:16; tethrammenos, lit. where he had been “fed”), and he himself alludes to Nazareth as his “home town” (4:24; patridi). But at the end of the pericope, after Jesus has resisted the resource entitlement of his townsfolk, Luke reports that they wanted to throw him off the cliff on which “their” town (polis) had been built. What had been Jesus’s hometown is now their town. He has been displaced. (4:31–44) Jesus’s Leverages His Power for the Flourishing of Others Any temptation to place Jesus over against his ethnic kinfolk on the basis of his ill-fated encounter in Nazareth is assuaged by Jesus’s warm reception in other parts of Galilee. In Capernaum, people “were astounded at his teaching, because he spoke with authority” (4:32) and “a report about him began to reach every place in the region” (4:37). 117

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Chapter 4 ends with three successive healing stories, two of which also focus (though ironically) on Jesus’s identity as Son of God. The stories demonstrate Jesus’s remarkable power: he casts out demons and heals the sick with a word of power or by the laying on of hands. These stories enact the Isa 61 text that Jesus claims to have fulfilled. As Jesus’s ministry gathers attention-grabbing momentum, Luke builds upon the theme of Jesus’s determination to use liberating power not for selfish benefit but to seek the good of those who are oppressed, ill, and—due to these factors— socially marginalized. In this section, demons recognize Jesus’s identity in ways that (to this point) not even faithful Israelites recognize (“I know who you are, the Holy One of God” [4:34]; “You are the Son of God!” [4:41]). We must not lose the connection between Jesus’s liberating work for the helpless and marginalized and his being identified by his most basic identity, “Son of God.” Jesus’s identity, empowered by the Spirit, seeks not selfish gain or even the gain of those most closely related to him. Jesus’s power, even in these early sections of Luke, is deployed with a prodigality that has no regard for typical structures of patronage or status. Like John in Luke 3, public momentum gathers around Jesus such that he presumably could have easily exploited his fame for self-advancement or for social power. So effective is his ministry that the crowds “wanted to prevent him from leaving them” (4:42). But Jesus resists localized fame and power in order to extend the life-bringing reign of God to other parts of Judea: “I must proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God to other cities also; for I was sent for this purpose” (4:43). The depiction of Jesus, the Spirit-empowered Son of God, to this point in Luke has served to connect Jesus’s identity to (1) remarkable power (he resists the temptations of the devil; he teaches with astonishing authority; he has power over illness and evil spirits; and he slips through a murderous crowd of kinfolk) and (2) relentless intention to use power not for selfish exploitation or even for a narrow but salient subgroup, but instead to use his power to bring flourishing to many places. (5:1–11) Jesus’s Power Makes Creation Flourish While Luke 1–4 focused on the Israelite social location of Jesus’s story and Jesus’s own deployment of identity, the following chapters begin to draw others into a new social identity shaped by affiliation with Jesus and his teaching. The five “one day” vignettes oscillate between oblique or intertextual references to Jesus’s relatedness to Israel’s God and the social ramifications of Jesus’s identity, power, and status. The opening vignette, Jesus’s orchestration of a massive catch of fish for Simon, activates an emerging theme surrounding the word of Jesus. Simon’s only reason for casting the nets again is his willingness to hear and do the command of Jesus: “Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets” (5:5). This hearing and doing will become a central marker of the Jesus-group. The resulting net-breaking haul of fish is Jesus’s first act of power over nature. Three features are significant. First, Jesus’s act causes the flourishing of creation: fish are now superabundant where once there were none. Second, Jesus’s act of power reveals something about his identity to Simon Peter, who falls at Jesus’s knees in a posture of repentance, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” (5:8). Luke’s text has intriguing resonance with the lament in Isa 6:5: “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” Simon Peter, like Isaiah, responds as though he has experienced a theophany. Given that Luke’s Jesus quotes Isa 6:9 in Luke 8:10, an echo of Isa 6 is plausible here. Third, Luke links Simon Peter’s repentance to his amazement “at the catch of fish that they had taken” (5:9). Superabundance of heretofore barren waters is an eschatological theme developed 118

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in Ezek 47, especially 47:6–10. The larger context in Ezekiel is of the return of the Lord to Zion, resulting in aquatic superabundance. If Luke has this resonance in view, the text makes a powerful claim about Jesus’s identity. In 5:10–11, Jesus begins to construct a social group around himself. He says to Simon, in the presence of his partners James and John, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people” (5:10; anthrōpous). Simon Peter, James, and John “left everything and followed him” (5:11). We should not overlook the force of this initial description of followers of Jesus who privilege Jesus over resources, possessions, and position. Moreover, they are joined to one another more deeply by virtue of being joined to Jesus. This is the birth of a social identity. Thus far, the new group forming around Jesus is ethnically homogenous and rooted in exemplary expressions of Israelite faithfulness. But within the Israelite ethnic group there is an expansive reintegration of those who otherwise would be marginalized (poor, ill, demon oppressed, and tax-collecting Roman collaborators). Even now, Luke is crafting a version of social identity capable of navigating intransigent intragroup social boundaries. SIT has shown that one particularly promising way to deal with intractable social conflict is to shape a superordinate identity that retains subgroup salience (Dovidio et al.; Gaertner et al.). This superordinate identity is most powerful if it is a person’s terminal identity, the ultimate answer to the questions, “Who am I?” and “Who are we?” Luke describes and shapes just such an identity in which loyalty to Jesus transcends social division. For this to happen, though, the disposition even of the homogeneous Israelite ingroup toward outgroup members must be shaped. Luke’s path toward this vision is his ongoing description of an identity within which power, resources, and status are never a tool for self-benefit or selfish exploitation. Instead, these resources are properly deployed when they are toward the flourishing of the other—especially the powerless or marginalized other. (5:12–39) The Benevolent Power of the Son of God Brings Flourishing to Humanity Jesus’s healing of a man with leprosy exemplifies his benevolent use of power. Social stigma about leprosy in the ancient world is well known, and the shame experienced by this man is displayed when he falls prostrate before Jesus. The dialogue highlights both the social significance of the illness and Jesus’s other-directed identity. The man with leprosy focuses not on wellness but on cleanness: “If you choose, you can make me clean” (5:12). Cleanness and uncleanness in Israel’s Mosaic construction of society could practically function as social inclusion or exclusion. Because ritual uncleanness was contagious, the unclean were excluded from social contact until they were ritually purified. The devastating effects of this are evident in the fact that, while the multiple diseases categorized as leprosy had dire physical effects, the leper asks for cleanness—for reintegration into society. Jesus’s response is telling and moving. He touches the leper, risking his own cleanness for the sake of the suffering, unnamed character. Rather than contracting uncleanness, Jesus’s touch dispenses purifying power. Jesus’s response, “I do choose. Be made clean” (5:12), is a brief but direct example of Jesus’s volition toward the flourishing of others. Jesus decides—chooses (thelō)—to make this man clean. Though Jesus’s invocation of Elisha’s healing of Naaman in Luke 4 suggested that Jesus’s ministry would be ethnically expansive, the healing of this leprous man demonstrates that Jesus has also not turned away from Israelites. Jesus instructs the man to make the offering for cleansing as a witness (marturion) to the priests. This demonstrates (1) Jesus’s commitment to Israelite 119

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structures of piety, (2) Jesus’s care that the man take the formal steps for social integration, and (3) Jesus’s concern for the priests, who he also wants to see the cleansing power of the Son of God, deployed for the sake of this leper. The next “one day” narrative uses an assumption about forgiveness and authority to attend again to Jesus’s relatedness to Israel’s God. The setting places Jesus in the midst of Pharisees and teachers of the law, Israelites whose social identity is connected to their obedience to—and interpretational authority with—the Mosaic Law. “The power of the Lord was with him [Jesus] to heal” (5:17), and Jesus’s renown drew such a crowd that four friends carrying a paralytic had to lower him from the roof to place him before Jesus. Jesus’s response to their unorthodox act is surprising: “When he saw their faith, he said, ‘Friend, your sins are forgiven you’” (5:20). The faithfulness of the four friends redounds to the good of the paralytic, exemplifying Luke’s ongoing insistence that identity is properly deployed when it uses resources, power, or status for the good of the (especially helpless) other. The friends use their physical wholeness not to gain selfish advantage, but to help a disabled friend to flourish. It is this act that Jesus names as “faith/faithfulness” (pistis). Jesus alarms the scribes and Pharisees by initially offering the paralytic not healing, but forgiveness. Drawing on Israelite tradition, they understand the implicit weight of Jesus’s claim, asking, “Who can forgive sins but God alone” (5:21). Jesus’s subsequent healing testifies to his authority to forgive and, by virtue of the narrative context, to his relatedness with Israel’s God. Jesus says and does things that only Israel’s God can rightly say or do, and always on behalf of the (often powerless) other. John’s speech in Luke 3 already indicated that tax collectors could have a place in the story of Jesus. Yet Luke’s decision to place the call of Levi immediately after 5:17–26 is noteworthy. Jesus, so deeply connected to Israel’s God that he has the power to heal and to offer forgiveness of sins, turns immediately to incorporate an Israelite who collaborates with imperial oppressors. Tax collectors, by virtue of their complicity with Rome, exhibit a posture diametrically opposed to the identity-defining factors Luke is cultivating. In the Roman tax-farming system, tax collectors made their living not only by acquiring and funneling money to Roman oppressors, but by squeezing their ethnic kinfolk for extra money. Tax collectors used their status and power for selfish exploitation. Not minding that history, Jesus calls Levi, who hears and does the word of Jesus. Like the fishermen earlier in the chapter, Levi leaves everything to follow Jesus. This brief account is testimony to the fact that, while the Jesus-group is still fully Israelite, it has room for people who could be considered betrayers of Israel. In the next scene, Levi begins to participate in Jesus’s incorporation of tax collectors. The banquet is an opportunity for Levi to use his resources for the flourishing of others, and it brings to the table “tax-collectors and sinners” (5:30). The Pharisees and scribes, who continue in Jesus’s orbit, complain to Jesus’s disciples, “Why do you eat and drink with tax-collectors and sinners” (5:30)? The identification of Jesus’s followers with Jesus and his patterns of social interaction is important. The Pharisees and scribes ask their question not to Jesus, but to the disciples: “Why do you [plural] eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?” (5:30). Those who follow Jesus will be drawn into Jesus’s pattern of social interaction. Rather than cultivating intragroup conflict, Jesus’s response honors the Pharisees and scribes. The proverbial saying “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance” (5:31–32) identifies the Pharisees and scribes as those who are “well” and 120

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“righteous.” Luke’s account of Jesus has room for Pharisees and scribes, and room for Roman collaborators and sinners. (5:33–39) Jesus’s Identity and Israel’s Mission It is tempting to read the Pharisees’ questions antagonistically in vv. 33–39, though the text does not require that. It is equally plausible, given Luke’s overall positive treatment of the Pharisees thus far, that they are genuinely seeking understanding. The question about why Jesus’s disciples do not fast and pray like the disciples of John is clearly an attempt to understand the relationship between Jesus and John. Jesus responds with analogies that are not straightforward. The analogy has three components, with the first two bearing similarity that the third does not share. (1) A patch torn from a new garment and sewn onto an old garment results in the new garment being ruined and the old garment being mismatched (5:36). (2) New wine poured into old wineskins results in the new wine being wasted and the old wineskins being ruined (5:37–8). In both of these sayings, bringing together old and new poses risk to both old and new. New belongs with new and old belongs with old. But the third saying is different. (3) “No one after drinking old wine desires new wine, but says, ‘The old is good’” (5:39). This verse does not appear in some manuscripts and other manuscripts contain “better” in place of “good.” In either case, these texts tap into “new wine” as a significant eschatological theme from the Hebrew Bible (e.g., Amos 9:13). They combine to make two points. (1) There is risk to old and new in the coming together of the ages and (2) One must be careful, having tasted and desired the new, to speak as though one only preferred the old. This latter point is significant to the Pharisees, who are drawn to Jesus but still prefer the “old.” It is also significant to Luke’s wider project to give assurance to those who have taken identity-related risks on behalf of Jesus. (6:1–11) Jesus Is Lord of the Sabbath; the Sabbath Is a Gift for Human Flourishing The relationship between Jesus’s identity and old and new things focuses in this section on Sabbathkeeping. Two stories bring Jesus into dialogue with Pharisees, and their curiosity about Jesus takes a more ominous tone. While the disciples are picking the gleanings from a grain field, Pharisees ask why they do what is unlawful on the Sabbath (6:1–5). Jesus answers, drawing an analogy between him and his disciples and David and his companions, a link that echoes Jesus’s relatedness to David described in the Annunciation. The logic for Jesus’s grain-picking on the Sabbath is based upon proper action in the face of human need. Jesus defines the Sabbath as a gift given by God for the flourishing of humans, and then asserts his authority, “The Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath” (6:5). This is the first use of “Son of Man” in Luke, a title only ever on the lips of Jesus as a self-categorization. There is no space for a full discussion of interpretational options for “Son of Man.” I read “Son of Man” as an intertextual allusion to Dan 7. In Daniel’s apocalyptic vision, the Son of Man is an exalted figure associated with God’s reign and Judah’s deliverance (Dan 7:13). The angelic interpretation of the Danielic vision identifies the Son of Man as “the people of the holy ones of the Most High” (Dan 7:27). The Son of Man in Daniel both enacts God’s apocalyptic victory over oppressing kings and functions as a representative for all God’s soonto-be-vindicated people. While caution must be taken when working with intertextual allusions, a Danielic reading of Son of Man seems fitting with Luke’s emphasis on Jesus’s kingly identity and coming reign, as well as with the representative nature of Jesus’s identity—a feature that will become clearer later in this chapter (see esp. 6:35–36). If there is a representative function for the

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title Son of Man, it indicates that humans have authority over the Sabbath, so long as they deploy that authority not for selfish gain but to seek the flourishing of all creation. The second Sabbath controversy (6:6–11) activates greater identity threat for Jesus’s followers. Pharisees and scribes were surveilling Jesus in a synagogue “to see whether he would cure on the Sabbath, so that they might find an accusation against him” (6:7). Identity threat can serve to heighten ingroup identity and intergroup bias, especially for high ingroup identifiers (Rothgerber). Here, Luke is beginning to show a degree of intragroup differentiation, as (some) Pharisees and scribes begin to “other” Jesus, seeing his action as deviance that should be controlled. Jesus, aware of their thoughts, challenges the Pharisees and scribes by bringing a man with a withered hand to the front of the assembly and asking, “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to destroy it?” (6:9). The pointed social challenge is evident in the narrative pause, “After looking around at all of them, he said to him . . .” (6:10). The Pharisees and scribes are shamed. They respond to their own threatened identity with “fury” and “discussed with one another what they might do to Jesus” (6:11). Their response to their enemy Jesus—fury and violence—will come to function for Luke as an intergroup comparative criterion that will differentiate other groups from the Jesus-group. Outside the Jesus-group, the only way to cope with competitive outgroups is violence. It will not be so with the Jesus-group.

Jesus Invites His Followers to Share His Exemplary Identity (6:12–9:50) (6:12–16) Jesus Calls the Apostles to Join His Group The response of the Pharisees and scribes that precedes the calling of the twelve is the most significant intragroup resistance thus far in Luke. Resistance to Jesus in Nazareth was more overtly violent, but was limited only to his co-villagers and is intelligible with help from SIT. Here, though, the twelve are called to join a group that is opposed by high-status members of the Israelite ethnic group. As the narrative unfolds, they will have to continually make decisions to center their identity on hearing and doing the word of Jesus, not seeking approval form the Israelite ingroup writ large. When they prioritize approval of ethnic sisters and brothers above participation in the story of Jesus, things go tragically wrong. This can be seen in Peter’s betrayal of Jesus and Judas’s traitorous actions, both of which prioritize approval of the ethnic group over loyalty to the Jesus-group. Two final points are of note in this short section. First, Jesus’s exemplary identity as one who hears and does the word of Israel’s God is on full display. He does not call his apostles until he has spent a night in prayerful communion with God. Second, in the ancient world the well-known rule of the shaliakh (sent one, messenger) associated the “sent ones” with their masters. To hear from the sent one is to have heard from the master. By designating his twelve closest associates “apostles” (sent ones), Jesus draws them into intimate relation with himself and his actions. They now represent Jesus. (6:17–49) Jesus Invites Disciples to Participate in His Identity and Way of Life The narrative progression in chs 5 and 6 is important. (1) Jesus exercises lordly power: power to heal, power over the Sabbath, power to forgive, power for creation’s flourishing. (2) Expressions of Jesus’s

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lordly power engender the first significant hostility from higher-status Israelites. (3) In the context of this identity threat, Jesus creates a new group called to represent him as his sent ones/ messengers. (4) Jesus teaches his new group how to live fruit-bearing lives. The so-called Sermon on the Plain offers the first extended teaching by Jesus. The teaching is specifically directed toward his “disciples,” which, according to 6:13, is a group that encompasses but is larger than the twelve apostles. We cannot tell from a straightforward reading of the text whether the address is meant also to include the “great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon” (6:17) who had come to have their diseases cured. Regardless, the teaching has programmatic value for the way communities of Jesus’s followers will enact their social identity. Luke’s “blessings and woes” sharpen the Matthean beatitudes. The blessings represent Luke’s insistence on the wide horizon for inclusion in the story of Jesus. Contrary to ancient expectations about the relationship between status, wealth, and the favor of the gods, in Luke’s story, the poor, hungry, mourners, and persecuted are promised the kingdom of God, feeding, laughter, and great reward in heaven. The Lukan beatitudes are an example of social creativity, whereby a low-status group turns to alternative evaluative criteria in order to evaluate themselves positively in light of proximate outgroups. For Luke, poverty, hunger, sadness, and persecution are all valued as circumstances particularly open to the work of Israel’s God. To the contrary, the rich, well-fed, laughing, and universally well-regarded are promised hunger, mourning, cessation of riches, and the fate of false prophets. Jesus flips the social script upside down, encouraging followers that their relatively low statuses, whether within the Israelite ingroup or in the wider Roman context, are not barriers to their participation in the story of Jesus. Instead, these markers that are disregarded by proximate social groups are precisely the factors that bear witness to relatedness to God. We must be careful not to assume that these blessings and woes are de facto declarations of insider and outsider. The criteria for participation in the Jesus-group will remain loyalty to Jesus—hearing and doing Jesus’s word, and not merely suffering or need. The woes must be read in the context of the entire Gospel. Not all rich or well-fed are excluded from the story of God. However, those who are rich, well-fed, or high-status and who use it only for selfish exploitation are, indeed, outside the horizon of the kingdom of God. The nuance here is important, as the intergroup differentiation is not between the Jesus-group and the “rich,” de facto, but between the Jesus-group and typical patterns for the “rich,” according to prevailing social norms. The Gospel has room for those with great means who deploy their resources and status for the flourishing of the other. Indeed, such a posture will come to be seen as evidence of the work of the Holy Spirit. Luke 6:27–36 is one of the most important texts in the Gospel for understanding the social identity of the Jesus-group and its ramifications for intergroup contact with (even hostile) outgroups. Here, Luke describes the possibility of sharing Jesus’s identity. Through an act of social creativity, Jesus reframes practices of intergroup comparison that mark the boundary of ingroups. SIT demonstrates that one of the most basic tendencies of social groups is negative evaluation of the outgroup, which allows for positive intergroup comparisons and, hence, positive social identity for the ingroup (Brewer, 438). Typically, negative intergroup comparison results in sharing ingroup resources only with ingroup members. But Jesus describes a group whose members are marked by a posture of outgroup love and by sharing resources with the outgroup. In these practices, the group shares Jesus’s identity and participates in God’s way of life. Essentially, Jesus posits an identity shaped by proximity to the prototype and not by outgroup derogation. 123

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Jesus directs his words to those who “listen” (6:27), again positioning hearing and doing the word of Jesus as basic to membership in the Jesus-group. Jesus’s teaching describes a set of ingroup practices and contextualizes them in light of (1) outgroup practices and (2) the practices of Israel’s God. The initial saying heightens identity threat from the outgroup: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you” (6:27–28). The threat moves from a hostile category (enemies) to a harmful action (abuse). While SIT suggests intergroup mobility and intergroup conflict as two strategies of lowstatus groups under threat, Jesus opts for social creativity—activating nonviolence and illogical generosity as markers of his ingroup. He continues, ensuring that the response to the enemy does not remain immaterial. “If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again” (6:29–30). Jesus’s people should respond to threatening outgroups by actively seeking their good through acts of love, blessing, prayer, nonviolent response, and radical generosity. This is summed up as, “Do to others as you would have them do to you” (6:31). Through an identity lens, we could frame this as, “Treat outgroup members as you wish your ingroup would be treated.” The next five verses (6:32–36) set the exemplary practices of the Jesus-group in a deliberately intergroup context. There is no credit in loving those who love you. “Even sinners love those who love them” (6:32). There is no credit in doing good to those who do good to you. “Even sinners do the same” (6:33). There is no credit in lending to those from whom you hope to receive. “Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again” (6:34). Jesus compares exemplary practices of his ingroup to typical practices of proximate outgroups. Unlike other groups in Jesus’s social context, those who are a part of Jesus’s story do not privilege only members of their ingroup or give only to receive. Instead, Jesus teaches, “Love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return” (6:35). Rather than identity shaped by negative evaluation of outgroups, ingroup identity is shaped by actively loving and seeking the good of outgroups through enemy love and radical generosity. The plausibility of this vision is underwritten by an astonishing identityrelated possibility: “Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked” (6:35). Strikingly, those who practice enemy love and radical generosity share in Jesus’s identity as “Son of the Most High.” The resonance with Luke 1:32 is significant. After Luke 1:32, “Son of the Most High” recedes in favor of “Son of God” throughout chs 3 and 4. When “Most High” returns in 6:35, it has the powerful effect of linking the identity of Jesus’s followers to the initially introduced identity of Jesus. They, too, can be children of the Most High. The practices proper to that exalted identity are enemy love and radical generosity. These two exemplary practices encapsulate Jesus’s unwillingness to use his identity, status, resources, or power for selfish exploitation. Instead, Jesus always deploys his gifts for the flourishing of others. Luke positions this sharing in Jesus’s identity as both an imitation of Jesus and—importantly—an imitation of Israel’s God. “But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked” (6:35). Luke’s hearers can share in the identity of Jesus as children of the Most High by participating in the enemy love and radical generosity of Israel’s God. Enemy love and radical generosity, when socially deployed, form the sort of allocentric identity that Luke associates with the Israel’s God, hence with Jesus the Son of the Most High, hence with the children of the Most High. This allocentric posture 124

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is summed up by the saying, “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful” (6:36). Imitation of God through radical generosity and enemy love is the deepest expression of leveraging identity, resources, power, or status for the flourishing of the other rather than for selfish exploitation. These practices are the grounding condition for the formation of a unique social group whose central characteristic is outgroup love that makes intergroup reconciliation possible. (6:37–46) The Sermon on the Plain, Part II It is unclear if Jesus’s teaching in 6:37–38 anticipates that reciprocity should be expected from God, or if it describes the net effect of a community that takes up generous practices. To practice forgiveness rather than judgment or condemnation results in forgiveness being offered to members of the Jesus-group (6:37). When ingroup members give, they will receive back an overflowing amount (6:38). The promise of return provides some certainty in light of the unnerving commands toward enemy love and radical generosity. Jesus’s parable of the blind guide in 6:39–40 again raises the possibility that Jesus’s followers can share in Jesus’s identity: “A disciple is not above the teacher, but everyone who is fully qualified will be like the teacher” (6:40). The parable uses a sight/blindness binary that sets the hearer up for the speck and the log teaching in 6:41–42. There we learn that blindness has to do with being overly concerned about the righteousness of others rather than one’s own loyalty to God. Perhaps Luke has some Pharisees in mind here. Some of them have been so preoccupied with Jesus’s righteousness that they risk not seeing the purposes of God. The penultimate analogy, in 6:43–46, returns us to John’s fruit-bearing theme. In Luke 3, he defined “fruit” as using one’s resources or status not for selfish exploitation but for the flourishing of others. Here Jesus sees fruit not as visible action, but as the expression of a person’s inmost identity—based upon the heart. The transformationalist vision of the human person on offer here assumes that fruit bearing only comes from internal goodness. The implicit connection between other-centered behavior and the inmost being essentializes the identity Luke is developing. Chapter 6 draws to a close with the parable of the wise and foolish builders. In light of Luke’s aim to provide “certainty” around the social ramifications of the way of Jesus, this parable establishes hearing and doing the word of Jesus as the way to security and certainty. Jesus expects that house-shaking storms will come. But the one is secure who “comes to me [Jesus], hears my words, and acts on them” (6:47). The parable is a powerful punctuation mark to Jesus’s first extended teaching in the Gospel. Jesus provides the way of life for those who will share his identity as children of the Most High. This way of life, characterized by God-like enemy love and radical generosity, places Jesus’s hearers in a socially vulnerable position in their Roman (and even Israelite) context. But Jesus attests that hearing and doing precisely these vulnerabilityproducing words will establish someone securely against looming adversity. (7:1–17) Jesus Enacts Elijah- and Elisha-Like Power for Non-Israelites and Israelites The healing of the centurion’s slave further establishes Jesus’s exemplary identity as one who uses his power for the flourishing of others, while simultaneously amplifying Luke’s insistence that Jesus’s word must be followed. As leader of a Roman military unit, the centurion functions as a stand-in for Israel’s imperial oppressors. But Luke sketches a nuanced portrait of this character. The centurion has exhibited sympathy for his slave and exercised public benefaction toward Israelites by building the Capernaum synagogue. Several social conventions are displayed in the story. First, the centurion expects that sending Israelite mediators will increase his odds of

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success with Jesus. Second, “Jewish elders” (NRSV, 7:3) approached Jesus with the logic of a patronage society. The centurion was worthy of good because he had done good to “our people” (7:5; ethnos). Jesus’s act of power on behalf of the centurion is a clear echo of Jesus’s account of the healing of Naaman in Luke 4, another military enemy of Israel. It should be noted, though, that Jesus’s contact with the centurion is entirely mediated. He speaks only to “Jewish elders” and to the centurion’s “friends” (7:6) who bring a message from the centurion. Second, the centurion has great faith in Jesus’s word of command, and hence shows himself to fit with the ingroup of those who heed the word of Jesus. While Jesus does not meet the centurion in person, he scandalously rates the faith of the centurion as greater than any he has seen in Israel. Luke does not tell us whether the slave is an Israelite or not, a fact that is apparently irrelevant in a story designed to show the expansive ethnic horizon of Jesus’s work and the access non-Israelites will have to the resources and power of Jesus. Luke’s careful attention to dynamics of identity in this pericope bear unpacking. Luke is very nuanced with group names, social categories, and social contexts. In this case, Luke introduces us to “Jewish elders” (7:3). For Luke, Israelites always use “Israel” as a self-description when they are with ethnic kin. Ioudaioi, more properly translated “Judean” rather than “Jewish,” is deployed whenever Israelites are in the presence of non-Israelites (especially Romans). Ioudaioi is a Roman naming convention that a people group with their homeland. In this case, the “Judeans” are those traditionally connected to “Judea,” the Roman province. Ioudaioi appears here and not again until ch. 23, but it occurs regularly in Acts as Judean Jesus-followers find themselves in increasingly Roman contexts. “Israel/Israelite” on the other hand, appears nine times in Luke 1–4, once in Luke 7, and again in Luke 22 and 24. It is prevalent through Acts 13, but after the first missionary journey of Paul and Barnabas, it disappears, save for one occurrence in Acts 21 and one in Acts 28. The careful reader of Luke and Acts should pay attention to these categories, noting that “Israel/Israelite” is an ingroup self-designation for those who claim ethnic descent from Abraham and who see their ancestral homeland as Judea. “Judean” is an outgroup designation that Israelites only apply to themselves in the presence of their Roman overlords. Because no political entity called “Israel” had existed for hundreds of years, that ancient name for the people descended from Abraham would have been obscure to most non-Israelites. Jesus completes his Elijah- and Elisha-like deeds of power in Nain, a village in Galilee. Just as Elijah raised the widow of Zarephath’s son, so Jesus raises the widow of Nain’s son (17:14–15). Jesus continues to use his power for the flourishing of others. Though Jesus has now activated the animosity of some Pharisees and scribes, Luke’s description of Jesus’s reception remains very positive: “Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, ‘A great prophet has risen among us!’ and ‘God has looked favorably on his people!’ This word about him spread throughout Judea and all the surrounding country” (7:16–17). (7:18–35) Jesus Calms John’s Fears and Affirms John’s Ministry John’s uncertainty about Jesus comes as something of a surprise, given his confident testimony about Jesus in Luke 3. In light of Luke’s intent to provide certainty for Theophilus (and other hearers), John stands as an exemplar who still experiences doubt, wondering whether Jesus is “the one who is to come” or if they are “to wait for another” (7:19). Early in the Gospel we saw repeatedly that even exemplary Israelites could not recognize Jesus apart from the Spirit’s revelatory work. Jesus responds to John’s doubt by restating his reading of Isa 61 from the Nazareth synagogue, indicating that Isa 61 events

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are taking place in Jesus’s ministry. “The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offence at me” (7:22–23). Luke frequently repeats, sometimes in triplicate, significant texts (such as the conversion of Saul or the conversion of Cornelius in Acts) to provide narrative weight. Jesus then attests to John’s ministry by drawing John into the ingroup’s refusal to use resources for selfish exploitation. John is not “dressed in soft robes” in a royal palace (7:25). Instead, John is a prophet—and prophets definitively hear and do the word of the Lord. Jesus’s closing description of John is an act of tremendous social creativity. Jesus downplays wealth and luxury as comparative criteria for his ingroup. Instead, he names John as the greatest of all born of women, “yet the least in the kingdom of God is greater than he” (7:28). Jesus elevates participation in God’s kingdom above any other earthly status—even beyond that of John. The NRSV makes parenthetical a telling comment about the relationship between responses to John’s preaching and the purposes of God. Gabriel had established that John would make ready a people prepared for the Lord (1:17), and Luke underscores that those who rejected the preparatory work of John rejected God’s purposes. “And all the people who heard this [Jesus’s teaching about John], including the tax-collectors, acknowledged the justice of God, because they had been baptized with John’s baptism. But by refusing to be baptized by him, the Pharisees and the lawyers rejected God’s purpose for themselves” (7:29–30). The social categories activated are important: even Roman collaborators who are responsive to God’s word can join the Jesus-group. The tragic response, though, of the Pharisees and lawyers is notable for the implied agency. Luke does not say that God has rejected them. Rather, they have rejected God’s purposes for them, because they did not hear and do the word of God. The exclusion of these Pharisees is a selfexclusion. (7:36–50) A “Sinful” Woman Exercises Radical Generosity and Receives God-Like Love The story of the sinful woman is one of the more poignant pericopes in Luke’s Gospel. Jesus’s invitation to a Pharisee’s home shows Luke’s nuanced view of Pharisees. Although some Pharisees were plotting about what they might do to Jesus (6:11), others are friendlier. Importantly, Luke does not determine relatedness to Jesus through strict social categories but by actual response to Jesus. Dinner parties in the ancient world were an opportunity to display status and honor. The presence of a woman who was a reputed “sinner” in the community risks the host’s honor. But Simon turns this potential dishonor toward Jesus—who has allowed the woman to anoint his feet with ointment and tears (7:39). Simon’s thoughts reflect the predictable ordering of the social world in which (particularly in pious Israelite circles) this unnamed woman had no place. According to Luke, Jesus perceived Simon’s thoughts, and in response told a story of two debtors (7:41–42). Simon rightly discerned the gist of the story: a debtor who has a great debt canceled will love more than the one who has a minor debt canceled (7:43). The story is a snare for Simon, as Jesus extends the analogy of debt remission to the forgiveness of the woman’s sins. Before issuing the punch line, Jesus contrasts the woman’s actions with Simon’s actions. The woman offered Jesus the hospitality Simon neglected (7:44–46). Hospitality is a social practice by which one deploys their resources for the flourishing of another. This is a central mark of the Jesusgroup. Simon does not exercise hospitality, but the sinful woman expends herself on behalf of Jesus. The woman’s response to Jesus sets her as the exemplary figure in the story, an astonishing reversal of expectation. Two aspects of this story are worthy of final note. First, Jesus’s question, 127

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“Do you see this woman?” (7:44), is laden with meaning. Jesus is the one throughout the Gospel who sees all humans. Second, again in this story Jesus’s forgiveness of sins alludes back to Jesus’s identification with the God of Israel—the one who alone can forgive sins—in Luke 5:21. (8:1–15) Jesus’s Parable about Fruitful People Creates Intra-Israelite Differentiation Luke 8:1–3 is evidence that, though ethnically homogeneous, the Jesus-group is comprised of surprising characters linked, no doubt, to Jesus’s proclamation of the “good news of the kingdom of God” (8:1). A diverse community has joined the twelve apostles: women of some financial means, those close to Herod’s household, and women who had been unclean. The women are exemplary in their exercise of radical generosity, providing for the community out of their resources (8.3). The parable of the sower in Luke 8:4–15 is the longest parable yet told in Luke. Common readings often compare the “soils” to the human heart. But Jesus’s explanation of the parable points in a different direction. Like John’s preaching in Luke 3, Jesus’s parable is concerned with fruit bearing, introducing a farmer who scatters seed liberally and with severely mixed results. Jesus ends the parable with the exhortation, “Let anyone with ears to hear listen!” (8:8), a cue to Luke’s hearers that this is a teaching that must be heeded. Jesus’s explanation of the parable carries important identity ramifications. Offered in response to the disciples’ lack of initial understanding (8:9), Jesus’s explanation draws the disciples into a privileged ingroup. They are those who have “been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of God” (8:10). The passive verb “has been given” makes Jesus the key actor in revealing the kingdom to the disciples. They are differentiated from “others,” to whom Jesus speaks in parables. This intragroup differentiation is indication that not all Israelites will participate in the story of Jesus. The comparative criteria are significant. The disciples’ ingroup is marked by having been given the secrets of the kingdom through the words of Jesus. The “others” are evaluated somewhat negatively by virtue of their association with a quotation from the call narrative in Isa 6:9. Jesus speaks in parables, so that “looking they [the “others”] may not perceive, and listening they may not understand” (Luke 8:10). This is further evidence of Luke’s insistence that apart from intervention through Jesus or through the Holy Spirit, even faithful Israelites cannot recognize Jesus. In Isaiah, as in the Gospel, the poetic proclamation functions rhetorically as a warning to engender action. Jesus warns that Israelite identity will not guarantee participation in the story of Jesus. The explanation of the parable initially identifies the seed as “the word of God” (8:11), but then goes on to describe it as “those who” (8:12, 13) or “the ones who” (8:14, 15). The apparent contradiction appears to be of no concern to Jesus. It might be most correct to say that the seed in good soil represents the “word hearing/word bearing people.” The result of their hearing the word is that they bear fruit: “But as for that in the good soil, these are the ones who, when they hear the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patient endurance” (8:15). A number of important themes from the Gospel are in play here, fruitfulness as a distinguishing mark of the people who belong to God (3:8), patient endurance (6:22), good heartedness (6:45), and hearing and doing the word of God (6:47). Reading the seed as the “word hearing/word bearing people,” destined to bear fruit, is similar to the narrative trajectory of Isa 6 that Jesus cites in his explanation. In Isaiah, the “holy seed” is the stump left in the land after exile (Isa 6:13). It is the remnant of Israel destined to sprout fruitfully in the future, but not until after a time of great suffering (Snodgrass, 160–62). The force of the parable’s explanation makes it clear that not all

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(Israelites) will bear fruit in Jesus’s kingdom. It also suggests an eventual (though not immediate) multiplication of group members. (8:16–21) Jesus Invites Hearers into His Apocalyptic Mission and Relativizes Consanguinity After illuminating his friends by explaining the parable of the sower, Jesus uses another analogy to invite the disciples into his light-sharing mission. Jesus says the point of lighting a lamp is the light it provides for others. Lamps are not ends unto themselves. In this way, Jesus directs the illumination of his disciples toward the good of those who—to use the words of Zechariah—are in darkness. Jesus then returns to the theme of listening so that more may be received: “Then pay attention to how you listen; for to those who have, more will be given” (8:18). The flip side, though, is also true: “from those who do not have, even what they seem to have will be taken away” (8:19). In the parable of the sower, those who hear bear fruit. In the parable of the lamp, those who hear give light. In Jesus’s groups, one’s status, privilege, or positive social identity is not an end unto itself. It is for the sake of the other. Luke’s emphasis on hearing and doing the word of God is escalated dramatically in the final portion of this section (8:19–21). Jesus’s mother and brothers come to Jesus, but cannot reach him because of the crowd. When messengers tell Jesus his family is waiting to see him, he replies, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it” (8:21). While ingroup identity can be solidified through intergroup comparison, it can also be solidified through proximity to an exemplar or to prototypical characteristics of a group (Oakes et al.). Jesus makes an ingroup claim in 8:21 without an immediate outgroup in view. Participation in the Jesus-group will not emerge from consanguinity, but from hearing and doing the word of God mediated through Jesus. It is important to note that Luke does not repudiate ethnicity here, though he does relativize it. Ethnic identity is not the terminal identity for the Jesus-group, but it is not dismissed. Setting the boundary for participation in the Jesus-group as “hearing and doing the word of God” opens the door for non-Israelites, as non-Israelites, to enter the group, though this will not fully flower until Acts. (8:22–56) Jesus Reasserts His Powerful Identity for the Flourishing of Others The latter half of Luke 8 reasserts Jesus’s powerful identity in relation to Israel’s God and extends the horizon of those who benefit from Jesus’s allocentric use of power. Luke’s characters have regularly asked rhetorical questions of Jesus about deeds otherwise only ascribed to Israel’s God: “Who can forgive sins but God alone?” (5:22); “Who is this who even forgives sins?” (7:49). A similar convention is used here when Jesus’s disciples say to one another, “Who then is this, that he commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him?” (8:25). The Hebrew Scriptures consistently portray power over the chaos waters as a central mark of God’s sovereignty. This is true in the creation story, the flood narrative, the dividing of the Red Sea, and the crossing of the Jordan River, just to name the most prominent stories. Jesus’s authority over the chaos waters demonstrates Jesus’s relatedness to (and sharing in the power of) the God of Israel. It is perhaps Luke’s most profound declaration, to this point, of Jesus’s power. Immediately on the heels of the nature miracle, Luke takes Jesus into a setting both strange and grotesque. Already, the boundaries of Jesus’s care have stretched outward to include women, poor, ritually impure, and Roman collaborators. But the Gerasene demoniac is perhaps the most inhuman character in Luke’s Gospel. Horribly oppressed by “demons,” Luke’s narrative

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description of the man places him outside every societal norm—he is in the wilds, naked, and living among the tombs—making him ritually unclean. The oppression is severe, dehumanizing, and the physicality (and social awkwardness and fear) of the encounter should be given a significant imaginative runway. A similar embodied imagination—equally grotesque—will emerge again in the story of the merciful Samaritan. Like other demon-oppressed characters, this man recognizes Jesus’s identity: “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?” (8:28). The title links both to the Annunciation (1:32) and the benevolence of children of the Most High (6:35). With the affirmation of Jesus’s exemplary identity ringing, Jesus immediately humanizes the man by asking: “What is your name?” (8:30). The question is resonant with his question to Simon the Pharisee in Luke 7:44: “Do you see this woman?” Luke reads the intriguing name, “Legion,” as apt “for many demons had entered him” (8:30). Interpreters have often read “Legion” as an implicit critique of Roman imperial oppression, linking the oppression suffered by this man and that suffered by subjects of Rome more generally. The uncleanness of the demons is exemplified by their expulsion into a herd of unclean swine, who then rush to their death (8:32–33). The spirits are inherently unclean and oppressive: their influence leads to death. But their removal leads to flourishing and life for the Gerasene, who is now in his right mind (8:35). The intergroup comparison, whether Luke has oppressive Rome or oppressive spirits in view, is powerful. The spirits exert power that leads to isolation, dehumanization, uncleanness, and death. Jesus exerts power that leads to reintegration, humanization, and life. Jesus’s use of power is unlike either Rome’s or Satan’s deployments of power. The townsfolk urge Jesus to leave due to their fear, and because Jesus never operates by coercion, he departs. The now-healed man asks Jesus if he “can be with him” (8:38), but Jesus sends him on a mission, “‘Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.’ So he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him” (8:39). The demoniac is an unlikely exemplar of the Jesus-group who hears and does the word of Jesus and who anticipates the important “witness” theme in Acts. Chapter 8 concludes with two more stories of healing: the raising of Jairus’s daughter and the healing of the bleeding woman. These stories can be treated briefly, as further examples of Jesus’s deployment of power not for selfish exploitation but for the flourishing of others. In this case, Jesus heals both an exemplary Israelite (a synagogue leader’s daughter) and a woman who was unclean and marginalized due to years of hemorrhagic bleeding. The well-placed and the marginalized, the rich and the poor, the patriotic and the treacherous, women and men, clean and unclean, pious and impious have access to the Jesus-group, provided they hear and do the word of Jesus—a word that drives them toward God-like enemy love and radical generosity. (9:1–17) Kingdom Power and Powerlessness Is Unlike Herodian Power Throughout the Gospel we have seen that Jesus, the Spirit-empowered Son of the Most High, deploys his tremendous power not for selfish exploitation but for the good of all creation. Now, Jesus shares his tremendous power with the twelve, giving them “power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal” (9:1–2). Jesus’s followers already know they can share in Jesus’s identity as a child of the Most High through their enemy love and radical generosity (Luke 6:35–36). Here they learn that they can share in Jesus’s 130

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ministry of deliverance as a means of practicing enemy love and radical generosity. The invitation to proclaim the “reign of God” (9:2) brings Jesus’s followers into de facto conflict with Rome, even if the text does not here name it. They proclaim an alternative power structure that is not even welcomed by all Israelites. The twelve are empowered, but only to be placed in a position of vulnerability and dependence, forced to rely upon the hospitality of Israelites (9:3–4). They are warned that some ethnic kinfolk will not welcome them, foreshadowing identity threat the community will increasingly face. Their work participates in Jesus’s extension of deliverance: “They departed and went through the villages, bringing the good news and curing diseases everywhere” (9:6). The disciples’ allocentric use of power stands in contrast to Herodian power. The twelve are instructed to respond symbolically but nonviolently to those who do not welcome them (9:5). Herod, on the other hand, responds to adversaries with violence. Curious about Jesus, Herod boasts, “John I beheaded; but who is this about whom I hear such things?” (9:9). Herodian power is manifest in violence toward the other. Jesus’s power seeks the good of the other. Herodian power is the way of the empire. Jesus’s power is the way of self-giving love. Upon the apostles’ return, Jesus attempted to withdraw privately. But their fame drew a crowd of followers (9:10–11). Rather than act with self-regard, Jesus surrendered his agenda, foregrounded the needs of others, “spoke to them about the kingdom of God, and healed those who needed to be cured” (9:11). This pericope introduces an important theme that underwrites the radical generosity exemplified by children of the Most High. As evening falls, Jesus asks his disciples to feed the multitude, though they only have two fish and five loaves. In Jesus’s hands, however, creation itself becomes superabundant. The feeding of the huge crowd demonstrates that the radical generosity that marks God’s reign is empowered by the creative generosity of God. As the disciples participate in this act of sharing they see firsthand that the community of God will be provided for as it practices sharing. This theme will be amplified in the community summaries in Acts, where the community learns that—if it is radically generous—there will be enough for every group member. (9:18–28) Jesus Reveals His Identity and Its Cruciform Expression of Power Luke 9:18–10:37 is a significant section of the Gospel for social identity. Here, Jesus reveals his identity and its logical trajectory toward the cross, while his disciples seriously (and violently) misjudge what it looks like to share in Jesus’s power. It is not a coincidence that the disciples’ violent othering is related to the first significant interethnic boundary crossing in Luke’s Gospel, a tragic engagement with Samaritans. Luke 9:18–22 is the first of Jesus’s three predictions of his crucifixion and it is inseparably connected to a question about Jesus’s identity: “Who do the crowds say that I am?” (9:18). The disciples’ answers reveal confusion on behalf of the crowds and impossibility of recognizing Jesus apart from the Spirit: “John the Baptist; but others, Elijah; and still others that one of the ancient prophets has arisen” (9:19). In each case, Jesus is thought to be an exemplary Israelite, though the crowds ultimately misidentify him. Jesus sharpens the question in 9:20, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answers correctly: “The Messiah (christos) of God” (9:20). Jesus implicitly affirms Peter’s answer and then links his exalted identity to his coming rejection: “The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief 131

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priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised” (9:22). The saying is surprising. While Jesus faced serious opposition in Nazareth, beyond his hometown his reception has been relatively positive. The initial hint of resurrection is also surprising. In some way yet to be made clear, Jesus’s identity is inseparably linked to his rejection, suffering, death, and—ultimately— resurrection. The way of Jesus is the way of his group. Immediately, Jesus invites his disciples to share in his vocation of unjust suffering and self-donation. Luke has already drawn hearers into participation in Jesus’s identity through (1) their enemy love and radical generosity (6:35–36) and (2) by sharing his power over demons and illness for the sake others’ flourishing (9:1–2). Now for a third time the disciples are drawn into Jesus’s identity in a compact and powerful text. To follow Jesus, disciples must “deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow [Jesus]” (9:23). Jesus’s prediction of his death in v. 22 did not mention the cross. Its inclusion here raises the specter of Roman political execution for the ingroup. The disciples are to carry every day an implement of Roman imperial power reserved for those who undermine the Roman narrative of imperial rule. The cross, for Luke, is a powerful symbol of a life of self-donation and Jesus’s words subtly disarm the cross by giving the disciples agency. By taking up their cross, the disciples are entering a life of self-donation. The cross, in Jesus’s view, is about self-giving more than imperial taking/killing. This is amplified by the near poetic couplet in 9:24: “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.” The cross, for Luke, functions as a metonym—and the logical telos—of the allocentric life of which Jesus, by the power of the Spirit, is the exemplar. Linking discipleship to cruciform self-donation is a remarkable act of social creativity. What is ostensibly the most shameful fate of a Roman subject—crucifixion—becomes for the Jesus-group the sine qua non for being a “follower” (9:23; opisō mou erchesthai; “come after me”). Hearing and doing the word of God through Jesus is subsumed now into cruciform selfdonation, refusing selfish exploitation for the sake of offering oneself to God and to others. This configuration of identity is an inversion of the Roman social world and offers the Jesus-group an unexpected criterion for positively evaluating their group vis-a-vis proximate outgroups. The stakes of following Jesus into this cruciform, allocentric expression of identity are high. The Son of Man, “when he comes in his glory and the glory of the Father and of the holy angels” (9:26), will be ashamed of those who are ashamed of him. The invocation of shame at this point is apt, since mention of the Roman cross takes Jesus’s followers square into the dominion of honor and shame in the ancient world. Finally, just as the resurrection appears without narrative warning in 9:22, in 9:26 Jesus’s glorious return, sharing the glory of the Father and the holy angels, appears as a narrative innovation. Hearers do not yet know its meaning, though clearly it is intended to encourage those tempted to be ashamed of association with Jesus. (9:28–50) Jesus Reveals His Identity but His Disciples Practice Imperial Ways of Power In real time, Jesus’s transfiguration happens eight days after his initial prediction of his death, resurrection, and his reorientation of his followers’ identity around cruciform self-donation. In narrative time, the transfiguration occurs immediately after Jesus’s tantalizing initial mention of a return that will manifest his glory with the glory of the Father and his angels. The presence only of Peter, John, and James with Jesus on the mountain is the first indication that there might be an inner circle within Jesus’s group. One could expect that these three would exhibit particular 132

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exemplarity. However, something nearly opposite is the case. James’s and John’s deviant behavior late in Luke 9 and Peter’s triple denial of Jesus indicate that following Jesus can be an uneven experience, even for those closest to him. The events on the mountain are framed by (1) the altered appearance of Jesus’s face (9:29; to eidos tou prosōpou autou ‘eteron) and his dazzling clothing and (2) the heavenly voice of the Father, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” (9:35). The heavenly voice echoes Jesus’s baptism, reiterating Jesus’s exemplary identity as Son of the Most High. The command, “Listen to him!” (9:35) extends Luke’s insistence that membership in the Jesus-group is established by hearing and doing the word of God. The luminous transfiguration of Jesus at the beginning of the narrative echoes theophanic elements from the tradition of Israel, in particular Moses’s radiance after encountering God at Sinai. The string of narrative events seem incongruous, unless one has already appropriated Luke’s teaching about God’s glory in self-donation and mercy. Luke sets in sequence the prediction of Jesus’s own death and resurrection, the call to cruciform self-donation, the prediction of a glorious coming along with the Father and the holy angels, the luminous transfiguration, the overshadowing of the mountain by the cloud of glory, and the divine “Listen to him!” Glory and cross are not dissonant in Jesus’s story. Jesus is joined on the mountain by two of Israel’s most exemplary figures, Moses and Elijah. Representing Israel’s law and prophets, they also appear in “glory” to speak with Jesus about his “departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem” (9:31). The Greek here is exodos, a word laden with significance in Israelite tradition, connecting to the echoes of Israel’s wilderness wandering and deliverance that were most recently activated during Jesus’s wilderness testing in Luke 4. The story of Jesus is couched in images from the heart of Israel’s covenantal history, and the presence of Elijah and Moses amplify this theme. The mountain-overshadowing cloud, too, calls to mind Sinai. James, Peter, and John, though given privileged access, do not understand the significance of the experience. Peter, the all-too-eager spokesperson, suggests building tents for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. Luke blithely ascribes this to Peter’s “not knowing what he said” (9:33). Even access to spectacular experiences is not sufficient to provide full knowledge of Jesus’s identity and its ramifications. Luke’s move toward social creativity, though, is intensifying as he strings together a connection between Jesus’s glorious high-status identity as Son of the Most High and Jesus’s life of self-donation. In a world of status competition, honor/shame, and social identity processes that typically result in violence, the expression of Jesus’s exalted identity in self-donation can only end in the cross. Luke 9:37–45, one of Luke’s more complex exorcism stories, continues to link Jesus’s power and his looming death. The incident reveals a limit of the disciples’ power and Jesus’s apparent frustration, “You faithless and perverse generation; how much longer must I be with you and bear with you” (9:41). Jesus’s authority over oppressive power elicits a reaction and counter-reaction that further link Jesus’s high-status identity and the inevitable result of his self-donation. While the crowds are astounded at the greatness of God and amazed at all Jesus was doing (9:43), Jesus turned to the disciples, “Let these words sink into your ears: The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into human hands” (9:44). From the perspective of SIT, this is a challenging saying for the disciples. At the moment of adulation, when they are being praised for being associated with an exemplary Israelite, Jesus names their looming social dislocation. The adulation is momentary: Jesus will be betrayed. The disciples do not understand: “Its meaning was concealed from them, 133

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so they could not perceive it. And they were afraid to ask him about this saying” (9:45). Again, we see that full knowledge of the story of Jesus comes only through God’s apocalyptic act. Luke 9:46–48 displays the extent to which the disciples are confounded by the inversion of normal comparative criteria for positive social identity. The disciples’ argument over who is the greatest is a regression to old identity paradigms. Luke equates this typical vision of greatness and honor with the inevitability of violence, as the status-quest results in “argument” within the community. Jesus responds with three sayings, setting a child in their midst as an object lesson: (1) Whoever welcomes a child in Jesus’s name welcomes Jesus. Contrary to typical Roman conventions in which one’s own honor was elevated by welcoming those with high status, Jesus equates hospitality toward the powerless as a way of hospitality toward Jesus himself. (2) Whoever welcomes Jesus welcomes the Father. Jesus is inseparably related to the God of Israel. (3) The least among all of you is the greatest. The analogical chain equates the least honorable with Israel’s God. To welcome the least is to welcome Jesus is to welcome the Father. Luke’s version of Jesus’s saying is one of the most significant acts of social creativity up to this point in the Gospel. The last saying is deliberately comparative, and contrary to typical Roman practices in which greatness comes through imperial-style power. The final pericope before Jesus’s emphatic departure from Galilean territory similarly shows the disciples’ failure to understand the expansiveness of the Jesus-group. John the apostle responds to Jesus’s saying about leastness by complaining that they have tried to stop someone from casting out demons in Jesus’s name because “he does not follow with us” (9:49). This is an attempt to control the boundaries of the Jesus-group by utilizing social homogeneity as the criteria for inclusion. John restricts ministry in Jesus’s name to the twelve. The disciples are clearly beginning to understand that affiliation with Jesus yields positive social identity, yet they attempt to exploit that identity for selfish gain, greatness, and privilege. Jesus has a different vision: “Do not stop him; for whoever is not against you is for you” (9:50). Jesus’s criterion for ingroup identity is only loyalty to him. It is never social homogeneity.

Social Conflict, Social Vulnerability, and Exemplary Practices Outside Galilee (9:51–14:35) (9:51–56) Intractable Ethnic Boundaries: Social Identity and Intergroup Violence Luke 9:51– 56 is a critical seam in Luke’s Gospel. For the first time, Jesus and his followers leave Galilean territory where they shared regional ingroup affiliation and experienced generally well-received ministry. As we would expect from SIT, Galilee is a comfortable social space. But the turn to Jerusalem means a trip through Samaria. The ancient ethnic rivalry with Samaria is well known. Israelites viewed Samaritans as syncretists descended from a program of intermarriage during the Assyrian exile. Israel held that inhabitants of Samaria only became interested in the God of Israel to gain divine protection against lions in the land. Samaria produced the rival temple at Mt. Gerizim and a Samaritan-centric version of the Pentateuch. But Samaritans viewed themselves as the true descendants of Jacob and Israel as a group with defective lineage. SIT has shown that competition over a similar identity can lead to particularly intense intergroup conflict (Jetten et al., 862). Luke has a special interest in Samaritans, who figure prominently in

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Luke’s progressive unfolding of a social identity that affirms ethnic particularity at a subgroup level, but transcends it with a superordinate identity formed by Spirit-empowered participation in the Jesus-group. The intractability of the Samaritan/Israelite ethnic boundary is the backdrop for what is surely one of the most tragically violent stories in the New Testament. A Samaritan village would not receive Jesus because he was a Galilean Israelite journeying toward Jerusalem. While this act of inhospitality would have loomed large in Luke’s world, the narrative context escalates its impact. Jesus had just taught that whoever welcomes Jesus welcomes Israel’s God. By refusing to welcome Jesus, the Samaritan village—according to Luke’s narrative world—was rejecting Israel’s God. The Samaritan village established itself as enemy of Jesus and Israel’s God. Rather than the God-like enemy love central to their identity, the disciples regressed to outgroup derogation typical to comparative social identity processes. In an act of appalling ethnic hatred, James and John ask, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” (9:54). The disciples’ response to Samaritan inhospitality was to seek their violent destruction. In light of Luke 6:35–36, Luke’s readers already know this request is not exemplary for children of the Most High, who is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. The narrative location of this story is critical. The moment the disciples leave Galilean territory, they express murderous intent toward an ethnic enemy. This intergroup encounter forms a baseline for the intractable ethnic boundary Luke will navigate in the rest of Luke-Acts. Jesus’s response is a swift rebuke and a refusal to ascribe this inhospitality to all Samaritans: “they went on to another village” (9:56). Apparently, villages will be judged based on their response to Jesus, not their ethnic identity. Jesus refuses to operate via ethnic gestalts or anticipated outgroup homogeneity. (9:57–62) Jesus Urges Complete Identification with His Way of Life Luke 9:57–62 unveils a different facet of the cruciform self-donation called for in 9:23–24. There, Jesus had said, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.” In Luke 9:57, Jesus and his disciples encounter a person who offers to follow Jesus: “I will follow you wherever you go.” Various forms of “follow” (akolutheō) link a catena of interactions, as does Jesus’s less-than-winsome description of the life of his followers. Following Jesus entails self-denial, life-losing, cross-bearing (9:23–24), and nomadic homelessness that privileges loyalty to Jesus over filial piety (“First, let me go and bury my father” [9:59]) or normative family love (“Let me first say farewell to those at my home” [9:61]). Jesus’s exhortations represent a complete reconstruction of social relations, and hence a social identity based on relatedness to Jesus and not kinship. Actions widely deemed as honorable are less important than relatedness to Jesus and the shared mission of proclaiming the kingdom of God. As the earlier allusion to cross-bearing implies tenuous relationship to Roman imperial power, so this pericope implies tenuous relationship to typical familial bonds. Jesus’s ripostes, “Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God” (9:60), and, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (9:62), create intense pressure toward complete identification with the Jesus-following ingroup. The relativization of kinship in this pericope also stands as a corrective to the hyper-kinship (ethnocentrism) displayed in the preceding pericope. 135

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(10:1–16) Jesus Expands the Circle of Participation in His Mission Jesus’s commissioning of a second, larger group of representatives in Luke 10 is a corrective to John the disciple’s complaint about a stranger doing deeds of power in Jesus’s name (9:49–50). In 10:1, Jesus deliberately sends seventy “others.” The Greek ‘eteros means “other of another kind.” The group needs to be as large as Jesus’s expansive vision, as they were sent to “every town and place where he himself intended to go” (10:1). The seventy envoys have a tenuous relationship to power. They are given authority over sickness (10:9), but are vulnerable with regard to their own sustenance. They are to carry no purse, bag, or sandals, but to rely completely upon the hospitality of those they have come to serve, heal, and liberate (10:4, 7–8). In this vulnerable state, they share something of Jesus’s wilderness experience—during which he resisted using power for self-provision, relying fully upon the provision of Israel’s God—and they embody Jesus’s teaching about his own itinerant, homeless ministry in 9:57–58. Jesus alerts the seventy that some will reject them. Their response to rejection is to substitute symbolic action for violence, which is also clearly a corrective to James’s and John’s violent impulse in 9:51–56. Jesus’s prophetic warning in 10:13–15 raises two notable points. First, Jesus gives strong indication here that some non-Israelites (Tyre, Sidon) may have a place in the ingroup, while some Israelites (Chorazin, Bethsaida, Capernaum, etc.) may be excluded from the ingroup. This poses a challenge to the social identity of the Jesus-group, as they must reckon with the fact that the ethnic other may potentially become one of the “us.” Second, the harsh judgment language is (1) eschatologically modulated and (2) not placed in the hands of Jesus’s followers. Eschatological judgment is reserved for God and is never placed in the hands of the Jesus-following ingroup. Luke 10:16 echoes Luke 9:48. Jesus’s followers, who already share his identity as a child of the Most High, represent Jesus, who represents Israel’s God: “Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.” Given Luke’s intense interest in “hearing and doing the word of Jesus” as central to membership in the Jesus-group, the switch from “whoever welcomes you” (9:48) to “whoever listens to you” (10:16) is important. The seventy will speak the words of Jesus that must be heeded. If social identity can be secured by proximity to—or by sharing the characteristics of—the ingroup’s exemplar, these seventy are highly exemplary. (10:17–23) Jesus’s Followers Should Rejoice in Their Social Identity When the seventy return, rejoicing at their power over demonic forces, Jesus emphatically redirects their satisfaction. What matters is not their power, but their identity within the Jesus-group. He exhorts them to rejoice not because “the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven” (10:20). Power, an important and inevitable feature of Jesus’s identity and of his followers’ participation in his story, must not become the status-marker for the group. Rather, participation in the group itself is cause for rejoicing. SIT holds that the key to social identity is, at its core, the rather nebulous idea of “groupness.” Jesus establishes just such a measure. While power in itself is not a means to status, the followers of Jesus do have high status based on the comparative criterion of proximity to Israel’s God. Returning to the apocalyptic theme, Jesus rejoices that the truth about God has been “hidden from the wise and the intelligent” and has been revealed to “infants” (10:21). In this act of social creativity, the presumably unlettered 136

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followers are exalted over the wise and intelligent (presumably here the Pharisees and scribes are partly in view), because of their reception of God’s gracious self-revelation. In a remarkably Johannine moment, Jesus’s disciples are identified with the group Jesus categorizes as “anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal [the Father]” (10:22). “All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows who the son is except the Father, or who the Father is except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him” (10:22). Jesus’s followers are in a privileged position with regard to their reception of God’s revelation: “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see! For I tell you that many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it” (10:23–24). The social creativity here is important. This group, marked by cross-bearing and cruciform power, is close to God. Though they are cross-bearers—enemies of the empire—they are exalted in the eyes of God. Jesus is systematically reordering their social world, transforming notions of honor, power, and identity, which combine to establish alternative criteria for positive social identity. (10:25–42) The Merciful Samaritan Exemplifies Ingroup Identity and Outgroup Love From a social identity perspective, the Samaritan is an exemplar of the Jesus-group. He exercises the radical generosity and enemy love that marks those who share in Jesus’s identity as children of the Most High. The Samaritan’s ethnic identity is Luke’s strongest indication to this point that membership in the Jesus-group will have profound ramifications for interethnic relationships and the social map for Luke’s hearers. It is not necessary to understand the lawyer who approaches Jesus as self-righteous or selfinterested, as is often posited. Jesus affirms the lawyer’s God-and-neighbor-love summary of the Mosaic Law (10:28). The lawyer’s follow-up question, “And who is my neighbor?” (10:29), is narrated as an effort to “justify himself ” (dikaiōsai ‘eauton). Protestant traditions incline many to read this negatively, but it is plausible to read the lawyer as earnest. This plausibility is supported by the fact that he responds correctly to both questions Jesus asks him (10:26, 36). Perhaps he is not trying to limit his obligation to neighbor love, but to ensure his obligation is expansive enough to fulfill the Mosaic Law. But it turns out, “Who is my neighbor?” is the wrong question altogether. It is a question of boundaries and, no matter how expansive the answer, it ultimately provides a social limit for obligation. In social identity perspective, the question aims to define the extent of the ingroup by determining who falls into the social category, “the other toward whom I am obligated to show love.” Jesus utterly resists the lawyer’s question. His approach to the Mosaic Law requires a different question altogether and Jesus’s question is the key to understanding how this parable exemplifies Luke’s approach to the other. The parable offers multiple points of resistance to the lawyer’s attempt to define “neighbor” as a social category. Jesus begins, “A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho” (10:30, my translation). The Greek anthrōpos tis is the equivalent of “some person.” The lawyer’s question specifically seeks a boundary or social category, but Jesus’s story begins with a human whose identity is irrelevant to the lawyer’s quest. Jesus does not state the man’s identity, but he creates a story world in which that identity was available. The victim was beaten by robbers, stripped, and left half-dead. Circumcision, which indicated at least Israelite, Samaritan, or non-Israelite identity, was apparent to the characters in the parable but irrelevant to Jesus’s telling of the story (Esler, 337–38). The victim is introduced

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in a way that masks his ethnic identity. Already, Jesus is actively resisting the question, “Who is my neighbor?” Two high-status Israelites—a priest and a Levite—who pass by on the other side of the road are usually viewed as uncompassionate villains in this story (10:31–32). However, it could be that the man’s half-dead appearance caused the priest and Levite to assume they were encountering a corpse. Mosaic corpse impurity laws strictly forbade Israelites in general (Num 19:10–22), and priests and Levites in particular (Num 21:11), from contacting corpses unless it was the body of a close relative (Num 21:1–3). The ritual for purification was extensive, expensive, and time consuming. The story, told in response to a question about law observance may suggest that the priest and the Levite were attempting to exercise Mosaic faithfulness, too. But their vision of faithfulness does not emerge as exemplary. The Samaritan’s ethnic identity is a shocking feature of the parable. In the social context, Samaritans were ancient ethnic enemies of Israel. In the narrative context, just verses prior, James and John offered to call down fire to annihilate a Samaritan village for their inhospitality. But in the parabolic context, the Samaritan practices enemy love and radical generosity. He offers his resources and power for the flourishing of another, sacrificing ritual purity (a concern also for Samaritans), time, comfort, and money. The story is graphically embodied, calling the hearer to imagine the Samaritan encountering fresh wounds and struggling to hoist a limp, half-dead body onto a donkey for a journey of mercy. The Samaritan brings the “certain main” to an inn (10:34). We must not confuse this with the modern hospitality industry. In a kinship, collectivistic culture, travelers stayed with relatives or members of a wider social network. Inns were for strangers, vagabonds, prostitutes, and those who were socially dislocated. Innkeepers in the ancient world were an unsavory stock character, making their living off of the socially dislocated (Longenecker, “Story,” 427–29). Yet the Samaritan gives this unsavory character the equivalent of a blank check. He provides two denarii and a promise: “When I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend” (10:35). If enemy love and radical generosity in Luke 6:35–36 mark those who participate in the identity of Jesus, the son of Israel’s enemy-loving, radically generous God, the Samaritan shines as an exemplar of Jesus-group identity. Jesus’s resistance of the lawyer’s boundary-seeking question, “Who is my neighbor?” climaxes in Jesus’s counter-question in 10:36, “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” The lawyer’s question seeks to discern the social category “neighbor.” But no matter how expansive an answer is offered, the categorical question ultimately has a limit. Those who fall outside even wildly expansive definitions of “neighbor” do not have access to the Mosaic-law-fulfilling love God’s children are to practice. Jesus, instead, refuses to categorize and he situates Mosaic-law-fulfilling love as an internal practice for all humans. The question is not, “Who is my neighbor?” but rather, “Who was neighborly?” According to Jesus, fulfillment of the Mosaic Law comes not from properly conceptualizing outgroups, but from becoming a neighborly lover. The intrinsic nature of this love reflects the identity of Israel’s God who is “kind to the ungrateful and the wicked” (6:35). Jesus radically shifts his followers’ conceptualizations of their social obligation. Neighborly love has no limits, it is never complete, and it touches every human relationship. The lawyer offers the correct answer to Jesus’s question. The one who was a neighbor, who acted neighborly, was, “the one who showed him mercy” (10:37). Mercy, in Luke 6:35–36, is metonymic for enemy love and 138

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radical generosity, where it appears as a call to imitate God: “Be merciful just as your Father is merciful” (6:36). Jesus’s followers are not to ask, “Who is the neighbor that I am obligated to love?” They are to ask, “How can I become a neighbor to all people?” This is a parabolic exemplification of Jesus’s identity throughout the Gospel, and a more particular expression of the exhortation to share in Jesus’s identity by imitating the God of Israel. The Jesus-group, in Luke-Acts, will prove capable of incorporating all manner of other, including the ethnic other and the enemy. The grounding condition for incorporating the other is precisely this posture of neighborly love— of mercy—exhibited practically as enemy love and radical generosity. These postures, which have characterized Jesus’s life, characterize the social identities of the Jesus-group but stand in sharp contrast to other outgroups in the narrative. In Acts we will see that exercising this sort of neighborly loving identity is possible only through the transforming work of the Holy Spirit. The significance of hearing Jesus’s teaching well is punctuated at the end of Luke 10 with the brief narrative about Martha and Mary. There, Jesus foregrounds Mary’s listening to Jesus’s teaching as exemplary, affirming again the significance of hearing and doing the word of Jesus (10:38–42). (11:1–13) The Radical Generosity of Jesus’s Group Is Underwritten by God’s Radical Generosity An ingroup marked by radical generosity certainly faces practical questions. Luke’s description of limitless generosity is punctuated by the blank check written by the exemplary Samaritan in the preceding parable (10:35). Luke’s vision of radical generosity is dependent upon a deeper, preceding vision of God’s own radical generosity. Here, Jesus’s teaching about prayer links the coming of the kingdom—the central message of Jesus and his sent-out ones—with daily bread (reminiscent of wilderness provision for the newly liberated Israelites), with forgiveness, and with protection from the time of trial (11:3–4). In other words, Jesus instructs his followers to pray for a kingdom marked by sufficient provision. The foundational place of God’s generosity is extended in the parable of the midnight visitor, which connects the persistence and audacity of a request to a favorable response that meets a visitor’s needs (11:8). Jesus’s sent-out followers can identify with this visitor, having themselves experienced significant vulnerability and dependence in their food-and-money-free mission in ch. 9 (the twelve) and 10 (the seventy). In this parable, Jesus grounds the plausibility of their vulnerability in God’s generous gift-giving. The Father knows how to give good gifts and will respond to asking, seeking, or knocking (11:9–12). The generosity of Israel’s God exceeds the generosity of earthly fathers (11:13). Luke diverges from the other Synoptic Gospels by identifying the Spirit as the chief gift of the Father: “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him” (11:13)! It is Luke’s first indication that Jesus’s followers will share in the Spirit that animates Jesus and John. Set in the context of God’s radical generosity, the Spirit emerges as the most important life-and-faithfulness-sustaining gift given to Jesus’s people. (11:14–53) Does Jesus Share Beelzebul’s Identity? The Beelzebul text is challenging. Jesus’s teaching about the fate of unclean spirits after they have been cast out feels like a narrative digression. But, Jesus heightens potential intra-Israelite identity contrast with a logic chain that works as follows. (1) Jesus cannot be in league with Beelzebul because Jesus’s liberation of

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the demon-possessed—if he is empowered by Beelzebul—would mean that Satan’s kingdom was divided against itself (11:16–18). (2) Jesus casts out demons by the finger of God (11:20). (3) If Jesus liberates from demonic oppression by the finger of God, the kingdom of God has come to the Israelites (11:20). Jesus establishes himself as the agent of God’s kingdom, giving Israelites a choice either to participate in or resist God’s liberating work: “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters” (11:23). Israelite identity, in and of itself, is insufficient for participation in Jesus’s group. This is amplified when a woman from the crowd exults: “Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that nursed you!” (11:27), only to have Jesus redirect her blessing: “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and obey it!” (11:28). Jesus again relegates consanguinity to a secondary concern. In Acts, the Spirit will fiercely contend for the ongoing salience of ethnic identities. However, hearing and doing the word of God will take precedence over consanguinity as the criteria for participation in the Jesus-group. The warning to Israelites resistant to Jesus’s message is extended in Luke’s unique treatment of Jesus’s allusion to Jonah (11:29–32). “Just as Jonah became a sign to the people of Nineveh, so the Son of Man will be to this generation” (11:30). While this may also point forward to the resurrection, Jesus is more interested in Jonah’s prophetic vocation to the Ninevites. Their receptiveness to hearing and doing the word of God positions Nineveh and the Queen of the South as exemplars who, at the judgment, will condemn “this generation.” Jesus’s insistence on non-Israelites’ accurate perception of God’s action in the world is reminiscent of his activation of Tyre and Sidon in 10:14. Jesus does not reject Israel in any way, but he sternly warns Israel to hear and do the words of Jesus, for in Jesus, “something greater than Jonah is here” (11:32). Jesus’s rhetoric in this chapter escalates conflict with the Pharisees, scribes, and lawyers. This is not yet intergroup conflict, as the Pharisees, scribes, and lawyers share Jesus’s Israelite identity and are never removed from Jesus’s group categorically. Instead, we can understand this as intragroup negotiation concerning the boundary-markers of Israelite identity as encapsulated by the way of Jesus. Jesus critiques these higher-status Israelites for the following reasons. (1) Pharisees clean the outside of the dish, but the inside is full of “greed and wickedness.” (2) Pharisees tithe, but neglect the justice and love of God. (3) Pharisees love seats of honor in synagogues and respectgreetings in the marketplace. (4) Pharisees are like unmarked graves. People cannot easily perceive their underlying uncleanness. (5) Lawyers load people with burdens hard to bear but do not help move those burdens. (6) Lawyers build the tombs of the prophets, approving of the deeds of their prophet-killing ancestors. (7) Lawyers have taken away the key of knowledge. They have not themselves entered into the place of knowledge and they have hindered others from entering. Jesus’s concerns are manifold. While he privileges intrinsic motivation for fidelity to God, these religious leaders privilege extrinsic motivation for their (apparent) faithfulness. Jesus critiques these groups for using their higher status for selfish gain. From an identity perspective, Jesus is making an argument about exemplarity for ethnic Israelites. These leaders—seen by many as exemplars—exhibit identity that hoards power, identity, or resources, rather than leveraging these gifts to help others flourish. This is contrary to the way of Jesus and creates a stark intragroup comparison. The sharpness of Jesus’s critique prompts conflict at a subgroup level. The Pharisees present for this interchange began, “lying in wait for him, to catch him in something he might say” (11:54). 140

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The danger of group boundaries is beginning to emerge with greater intensity, particularly as Jesus comes closer to Jerusalem—the center of Israelite ethnic identity. (12:1–48) Certainty, for Jesus’s Vulnerable Group, Is Based on God’s Provision and Generosity Jesus critiques the way of life of some Pharisees, scribes, and lawyers, because their approach to piety for the sake of self-advancement is particularly dangerous to the formation of his emerging community. The gist of Jesus’s warning is to beware of privileging external appearances over internal motivations and integral behaviors. Jesus’s group need not fear their enemies—“those who can kill the body, and after that can do nothing more” (12:4). They are only to fear God, who has “power to cast into Gehenna” (12:5). Fear stemming from social vulnerability can be resisted because Jesus’s ingroup has close access to Israel’s God. For Theophilus, and Luke’s wider audience, the care of God undergirds the identity certainty the prologue describes. In the emerging context of identity threat, Jesus strengthens the attachment of his followers to their group by indicating that—though they are at risk from those with earthly power—they will be acknowledged by the Son of Man “before the angels of God” (12:8) if they do not deny Jesus before others. The “before others” nature of this acknowledgment highlights the social implications of identification with Jesus. Following after Jesus will dislocate people from some aspects of their current social networks. The text feels as though it should progress from 12:9 to 12:11, which continues the theme of encouragement in the face of enemies, with 12:11 promising that the Spirit will provide words of testimony when Jesus’s followers are brought before “the synagogues, the rulers, and the authorities.” This section simultaneously introduces identity threat and situates the ingroup squarely in the hands of the God who will provide and protect. But this section is interrupted by the challenging blasphemy of the Holy Spirit text: “Everyone who speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven; but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven” (12:10). We are instructed by earlier uses of “blasphemy” in Luke’s Gospel. In 5:21, Jesus is accused of blasphemy because he offered forgiveness of sins to a paralytic. Blasphemy is claiming to do what only God can do. Luke 12:13–21 extends the threat of persecution and danger. It would be logical for a vulnerable group to use their resources to provide security for themselves, but Luke instead unfolds a lengthy reflection on greed, generosity, and God’s abundant provision. The parable of the rich farmer is a storied expansion of Jesus’s exhortation, “Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions” (12:9). Luke’s hearers are well prepared for this teaching, given the emphasis on radical generosity and the proper use of resources envisioned in John’s initial teaching in Luke 3. Greed, exhibited by the main character of the parable, is the antithesis of the life of the God of Israel and the antithesis of the people who affiliate with God. Luke 12:22–34 provides the theological rationale for eschewing greed. Israel’s God cares for all creation: ravens and lilies are richly fed and appointed. Because Jesus’s followers are far more valuable than these creatures, followers need not worry about “life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear” (12:22). Though the Jesus-group could expect to experience real vulnerability, they can exhibit a non-anxious attitude toward possessions because of God’s generosity. Their freedom from resource-hoarding is an intergroup differentiation from nonIsraelites who are not following after Jesus: “For it is the nations of the world that strive after 141

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all these things, and your Father knows that you need them” (12:30). The generosity of God that makes plausible this non-anxious posture underwrites the radical generosity that signifies participation in Jesus’s group. We see this in the linkage of Jesus’s assurances “These things will be given to you as well” (12:31) and “It is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (12:32), with the exhortation to “sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys” (12:33). Jesus’s people can be as generous as God, because life-and-faithfulnesssustaining generosity is God’s “good pleasure.” To keep our focus on social identity, two brief points about 12:35–48 will suffice. First, the parable of the servants and the wedding banquet contains the tantalizing hint that the returning master serves his alert slaves. The Son of Man is portrayed as the powerful one who will use his power to serve his servants. Second, the warning in 12:41–48 heightens the importance of close identification with Jesus even if the master’s return is delayed. The parable solidifies identification with the Jesus-movement across time through a call to endurance. (12:49–59) Jesus Again Relativizes Consanguinity Jesus expresses a wish that the fire he had come to kindle on earth had already been lit. Jesus knows his coming, which sets his identity at the center of an emerging social identity, will rupture some traditional social relationships. Households will themselves be divided, as loyalty to Jesus takes precedence over consanguinity. If Theophilus is experiencing social dislocation among his own kin, this text would have a powerful identity-shaping effect. (13:1–9) The Salience of Galilean Identity and the Urgency of Bearing Fruit The initial boundary crossing from Galilee to Samaria, en route to Jerusalem, was marked by appalling intergroup hatred (9:51–56) that starkly revealed the Galilean identity of the disciples at a moment of intergroup contact. In light of this, the activation of “Galilee” three times in vv. 1–3 is striking. The geographic designation “Galilee” has eight prior occurrences, but this is the first time Luke deploys “Galilean” as a social category. Group salience emerges with intergroup contact and the movement to Jerusalem provides just such contact. Jesus’s Galilean identity is less than prototypical given the Jerusalem-centric orientation of Israelite identity in general. “Galilean” only occurs here, in Luke 22:59; 23:6; and Acts 1:11; 2:7. In three of those four instances (Acts 1:11 excepted), “Galilean” is an important social differentiator. It could be, in the context of Jesus’s ongoing teaching about eschatological judgment and social dislocation, that those who shared the story of Pilate’s violence against Galileans were offering an implicit warning to Jesus—something along the lines of, “It is not safe for Galileans around here.” This would fit the Pharisees’ warning in 13:31 that Jesus should leave because Herod wants to kill him. Whatever the precise motivation for sharing the story with Jesus, it is evident that Galilean identity has become salient as a subgroup identity now that Jesus has left Galilee. He is known (and his followers along with him) not just as an Israelite, but as a Galilean Israelite. Jesus responds to the news report by resisting the common (Job-like) notion that a horrible fate could be the result of unknown sin (13:2–3). Jesus uses the story to urge all to repent, escalating the urgency of responsiveness to Jesus’s ministry that results in fruit bearing (13:5). This key Lukan theme builds on John’s exhortation to fruit bearing rooted in unwillingness to

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use power, status, or identity for selfish exploitation. Jesus’s parable of the fig tree (13:6–9) also points to (limited) eschatological patience and to the urgency of fruit bearing. We cannot close this section without noting the identity threat (and outgroup contrast) raised by the specter of Pilate. The normativity of Pilate’s use of violence to re-inscribe power is utterly taken for granted here. It is starkly at odds with Jesus’s vision for the use of power—via cruciform self-donation—for the flourishing of others. (13:10–20) Jesus Liberates on the Sabbath, and the Vulnerable Jesus-Group Has Surprising Potential The Sabbath controversy in 13:10–17 is similar to other Sabbath controversies in Luke. Jesus does not regard the Sabbath as a barrier to seeking human flourishing, and his healing of the bent-over woman draws sharp rebuke from the synagogue leader (13:14). Jesus’s forceful response aligns the synagogue leader with Satan, who Jesus says had bound this woman for eighteen years (13:15–16). Just as Jesus humanized the woman in Luke 7, he also humanizes this woman, this time through a specific comparison between the treatment owed to this woman and treatment some synagogue leaders would readily offer their domesticated beasts of burden. Jesus names the woman as a “daughter of Abraham” (13:16), a phrase that will reappear later in the Gospel. She is inside the circle of God’s covenantal faithfulness. Jesus tells two parables about the kingdom of God that indicate that the kingdom’s humble and vulnerable beginnings are no predictor for its eventual glory. Like a mustard seed that grows large and a little yeast that has great effect, the kingdom of God will grow larger than it seems (13:18–21). It is important to connect this teaching to Luke’s stated purpose to give “certainty” to Theophilus and other hearers of the text. Early hearers have joined a vulnerable social group out of step with social norms. Jesus, though, crafts a possible future identity for his group by indicating that what starts small will—in due time—flourish (Cinnirella). (13:22–35) An Expansive Invitation to the Kingdom Feast in a Context of Violence and Threat The question posed to Jesus as he journeyed south toward Jerusalem, “Lord, will only a few be saved?” (13:23), is implicitly a question about the extent of the Jesus-group. Throughout the Gospel, Jesus has exhibited an expansive horizon of participation in the group whose identity is formed by virtue of their identification with Jesus. This text, though, seemingly pushes in two directions. Jesus indicates that the door for entry into salvation is “narrow” and “many . . . will try to enter and not be able” (13:24). But the force of the example story that follows indicates not so much a limitation by virtue of the width of the door or its capacity to allow entry, but rather an urgency with regard to time. Once the owner of the house closes the door, it will be too late for those who claim to know the owner (13:25). In this regard, the parable bears affinity to exhortations toward watchfulness and readiness—also stories about timely response—that populate Luke 12. Those who are too late in the story are not allowed in, though they claim to have had contact with the owner of the house. This warning presses hearers toward immediate identification with Jesus, not just casual interaction. Jesus punctuates the story with an eschatological saying that indicates that not all Israelites will participate, with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and the prophets, in the kingdom of God. Instead, “people will come from east and west, from north and south, and will eat in the kingdom of God” (13:29). While this does not explicitly indicate non-Israelites will participate in God’s kingdom, it is a tantalizing hint amplified by the closing saying, “Some are last who will be first, and some

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are first who will be last” (13:30). This is a heavy warning for Israelites—and in this case Judean Israelites—to waste no time in fully identifying with Jesus and his group. Jesus’s exhortation to enter the narrow door is set in the context of imminent violence. In a fascinating text, given the Pharisees’ sometimes resistance to Jesus, some Pharisees come to Jesus to warn him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you” (13:31). Luke uses the adjective tis, the same word used to describe the “certain man” in the parable of the merciful Samaritan. It indicates that this is certain of the Pharisees, and it is a tremendous example of Luke’s nuanced portrayal of social groups. Though SIT regularly shows that ingroups tend to view outgroups as socially similar (cf. the outgroup homogeneity evident in Virgil’s Aeneid, “From this one [Greek] know all”), Luke sees outgroup heterogeneity as a real social option. That is, Luke’s nuanced treatment of social groups allows representatives of groups to respond in a diversity of ways to social situations. Here, Luke portrays Pharisees who ally themselves with Jesus (13:31). At the very least, this also demonstrates that some Pharisees—though they may have an argument with Jesus about what constitutes exemplary Israelite faithfulness—view Jesus as a member of a common ingroup that does not include Herod. Herod, like Pilate, cannot be in the Jesus-group due to his use of violence as a means to re-inscribe his power. Jesus is painfully aware that his cruciform self-donation, in the context of the usual configurations of power, can only end in death at the hands of the empire. And so it is that he sends word back to Herod that he is going to Jerusalem, “Because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed away from Jerusalem” (13:33). The chapter closes with Jesus’s lament over Jerusalem (13:34–35). The duplication of the vocative “Jerusalem” is a convention Luke uses at other poignant moments in the text (cf. 22:31). With striking mothering imagery, Jesus expresses heartfelt longing for the good of Jerusalem. The lament reveals Jesus’s refusal to use coercive power or violence to gather his people. There is a clear echo of Luke 7:30. There, too, Jesus notes that people have the option to reject God’s purpose for themselves. Jesus offers invitation, he seeks their flourishing, he gives signs of great power, he will even offer frightful eschatological warning—but he will not use his power to coerce. (14:1–24) Jesus Envisions an Ingroup with an Alternative Economics Luke’s nuanced view of Pharisees appears again in 14:1–24, a pericope set at a dinner party hosted by “a leader of the Pharisees . . . on the Sabbath” (14:1), where some guests (at least) “were watching him closely” (14:1). Jesus challenges the lawyers to answer whether it is lawful to heal on the Sabbath, pressing on their silence by healing a man with dropsy and arguing that all present would help a child or an ox that had fallen in a well on the Sabbath (14:5; cf. 13:15). If they will help an ox or a child, would they not also see the good in healing this man? Jesus uses this as a tableau upon which to explore social and economic expectations surrounding table fellowship in Israel (and the Roman Empire, more generally). Meals were an opportunity to display social status. Typically, a host would invite guests of similar (or higher) social status. Or, a host may invite clients for whom the host is a patron. Invitations carried expectations of reciprocity, and failure to issue a reciprocal invitation would be shameful for both host and guest. Shared meals usually had carefully crafted seating arrangements, with proximity to the host signaling higher honor. At this particular dinner party, Jesus noticed guests choosing seats of greatest honor, according to social convention (14:7). Jesus flips the social script, instructing hearers to subjugate themselves to seats of lower honor, so that rather than pursuing self-exaltation they could be exalted by the 144

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host (14:8–10). The saying “For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted” (14:11) is not a surprise at this point in Luke. Luke consistently characterizes participation in the Jesus-group as refusal to use status for selfish exploitation. Here, we see one social ramification of this feature of the community’s identity. Jesus then offers a word of criticism to his host, a dicey proposition that demonstrates Jesus has little regard for the status arising from social convention. The host is instructed to not invite friends, brothers, relatives, or wealthy neighbors to dinner parties, “in case they may invite you in return and you would be repaid” (14:12). This saying reveals a social assumption about reciprocity against which Jesus presses back. Jesus’s consistent exhortation to radical generosity, a posture that deploys resources, identity, power, or status only for the good of the other, cannot function in a system of reciprocity. Already in Luke 6:30, 34 we see the command to give without expecting anything in return. The willingness to step outside of reciprocity structures was required for the economy of gift-giving Jesus envisioned. Alternatively, and shocking in its context, Jesus urges his host to invite “the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind” (14:13). This socially risky move, by which the host would likely be dishonored or shamed, is connected to eschatological reward. Inviting marginalized, powerless, and those who cannot repay will result in the host being “blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous” (14:14). This future possible social identity—those blessed at the resurrection—is an act of social creativity, as well. A group whose status in typical Roman configurations would be lowered by extending membership and hospitality to the poor and marginalized needs an alternative criterion upon which to compare itself to outgroups. Radical generosity—exercised without expectation of reciprocity—becomes just such an identity marker of the Jesus-group. Jesus reinforces his teaching with a parable about a host who throws a lavish party and sends out a slave to summon his guests (14:16–24). The guests, though, were distracted by common economic concerns typical in the empire. One has just bought land and is going to inspect it (14:18). One has just bought oxen and is going to try them out (14:19). One has just been married and cannot come (14:20). The regular economic concerns of the empire prevent participation in the feast. In the parable, the owner sends the slave to invite “the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame” (14:21). When room remains at the feast, the slave is commanded, “Go out into the roads and lanes, and compel people to come in, so that my house may be filled. For I tell you, none of those who were invited will taste my dinner” (14:23–24). Coming at the end of a section in which Jesus upends social conventions around honor, table fellowship, and reciprocity, the closing of the parable is a warning against the way common economic and kinship concerns—whether Roman or Israelite—could put hearers at risk of missing their place in the great banquet. This reinforces the similar call to urgency in 13:22–30. The diversity of the guest list makes it imperative that those who come to Jesus must embrace being a part of a social group and correlate social identity that includes those who are dishonorable, unwell, vulnerable, and marginalized. It is one thing for Jesus to gather these people. But SIT helps us see that Jesus’s gathering of these people has significant implications for the social identity of each of his followers. As the composition of the group changes, so does the social identities of group members. Jesus is preparing his group for a community in which all human beings who identify with him are equally welcome. (14:25–35) Jesus again Relativizes Consanguinity and Notes the Costliness of Joining His Group Jesus’s popularity grows as he approaches Jerusalem. Given the large crowds now 145

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traveling with him (14:25), Jesus makes two moves that ensure that those following with him have appropriately navigated their own social locations. First, he again relativizes family relatedness in light of hearing and doing the word of Jesus. Those who want to be in the Jesus-group must “hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself ” (14:26). While this theme will accelerate in Acts, texts like this one already relativize ethnicity as a terminal identity. The relativization of consanguinity as a primary social identity is paired with and parallel to Jesus’s second indication that cross-bearing is essential to being in Jesus’s group: “Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple” (14:27). Finally, Jesus offers analogies about building projects and war planning, arguing in each case that one does not begin unless one is aware of—and willing to bear—the cost of the undertaking (14:28–33). This sobering set of sayings normalizes social dislocation, vulnerability, and the prospect of crossbearing inside the Jesus-group.

Jesus Invites Followers to Share God’s Joy and Adopt the Practices of the Coming Age (15:1–19:28) (15:1–32) To Share in Jesus’s Identity Is to Share in God’s Joy On the heels of the sobering warnings in Luke 14, Jesus turns to an offer of incredible joy. The three stories of lost things are memorable and bear witness to the Father’s tireless love. From a social identity perspective, the texts raise questions about group boundaries and the ramifications of refusing to share in Jesus’s identity by practicing radical generosity toward those who deviate from exemplary ingroup behavior. The chapter is framed by grumbling, beginning with the grumbling of the Pharisees and scribes (15:2) and ending with the grumbling of the elder brother (15:28–30). This inclusion of grumbling about the extent of mercy creates a dour frame for otherwise unmitigated joy. The large crowds near Jerusalem, with Luke’s striking statement that “all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him” (15:1), indicate that Jesus’s posture of cruciform self-donation is powerfully attractive both to “sinners” (those categorized as deviant for having run publicly afoul of the Mosaic Law) and to “tax collectors” (those who make their living by collaborating with the imperial regime and using their position to exploit their ethnic kinfolk). The Pharisees and scribes are also clearly drawn to Jesus, but are motivated to reinforce existing boundaries around the Israelite ingroup. Tax collectors and sinners, in the Pharisaic social construction of the universe, are far from exemplary. They grumble, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them” (15:2). The force of Jesus’s three parables centers on the pain of lost things, the pursuit of lost things, and the joy of finding lost things. While there is plenty to be said about the practice of the shepherd and the woman, who stop everything until they have found their lost sheep and missing coin, for our purposes we will focus on both the social ramifications and the joy elicited by “finding” lost things. Two items attract attention in the parables of the lost sheep and the missing coin. First, in each case the finding of the lost thing requires a communal response. What is missing—both the shepherd and the woman presume—is the concern of an entire community. (1) “When he comes 146

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home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost’” (15:6). (2) “When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost’” (15:9). While this reflects the collectivistic culture of Jesus’s time, in Luke’s narrative it powerfully grounds the discovery of lost things in the life of a community. Jesus’s explanations of the parables are brief. Jesus associates the finding of lost things with the repentance of sinners—hence the relevance of the stories as a response to the grumbling of the Pharisees and scribes—and he associates the finding of lost things with a hearty communal response in “heaven” (15:7) and “in the presence of the angels of God” (15:10). Second, the proper response to finding lost things is “joy.” In the story world, both the shepherd and the woman call their neighbors to communal rejoicing. In Jesus’s explanations, this represents joy “in heaven” and “in the presence of the angels of God.” In the latter, the Greek more literally indicates there is joy “before (enōpion) the angels of God” (15:10). This leaves open the strong possibility that Jesus is referring to the Father’s joy, since we know from Gabriel’s words that God is the one before the angels (Luke 1:19; enōpion). But by virtue of their grumbling, the Pharisees and scribes do not participate in the joy of the Father over the repentance of lost people. The parable of the merciful father extends these themes in poignant ways. From an identity perspective, the father in the story exemplifies radical generosity, even in the face of his own shame. It is well known that the request for inheritance before death is a slight to the father’s honor. It would have certainly caused the father to be viewed negatively by his townsfolk—who would have expected the father to disown the son. The younger son, for his part, has become a sinner, dishonoring his father, breaking the commandment to parental honor, and engaging in “dissolute living” (15:13). He has become ritually unclean, eking out a living by caring for swine. His repentance speech is, at best, self-interested and halfhearted. There is nothing in the son that proves him worthy of reconciliation with the father, nor, importantly, is there anything that re-aligns him with his wider family or community. Yet the father risks social shame to express his compassion. In Luke’s narrative world, Jesus has already borne shame from his willingness to associate with tax collectors and sinners risks social shame. But it is Jesus’s followers who will have to face this social shame head on later in Luke-Acts. The father runs to the son and expresses lavish love that—given the son’s symbolic action that wished for the father’s death—can rightly be categorized as enemy love (15:20). The father expresses radical generosity, re-clothing the son with the signs of participation in the ingroup of the family (15:22–24). There is no second-class membership in the family. The son— even with all his deviance—is fully son to the father. And the father’s joy is a communal joy. He gathers those around him and begins to celebrate. The son’s return is like resurrection (15:32). And resurrection is cause for joy. The father exemplifies God’s kindness to the ungrateful and the wicked (Luke 6:36), which is exemplary for the Jesus-group. This third story adds an additional layer that links backward to the grumbling of the Pharisees and scribes and—in light of their posture toward Jesus—strikes a tragic note. The elder son of the father is also a grumbler. He complains that he has exhibited lifelong faithfulness to the father, but that the father has never thrown him a feast (15:28–30). If the older son’s action is like the Pharisees and scribes—the father’s invitational response to the elder son teaches us about Jesus’s ongoing posture toward the Pharisees and scribes. The father does not deny that the elder brother has been faithful and he promises a full inheritance to the elder brother. Moreover, the father does 147

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not want to celebrate without the elder brother. He pleads with him to come in because the elder brother is fully son to the father. But the elder brother is convinced that his identity and status should redound to his own benefit. His incapacity for mercy obscures from his view the joy that could be his within the community of rejoicing. The link between the grumbling Pharisees and scribes and the grumbling elder brother shows us that Jesus—to some extent, at least—affirms the lifelong faithfulness of the scribes and Pharisees, that he does not want to celebrate without them, and that they can have a place at the table of joy. In the economy of God, the expansiveness of the Jesus-group—including sinners and social deviants, enemies and Roman collaborators—is cause for joy. The text has already shown Pharisees and scribes opting out of God’s program (see, especially Luke 7:30), and here their inability to participate in cruciform self-donation robs them of the opportunity to share in God’s joy. (16:1–9) The Relationship between Money and Participation in Jesus’s Ingroup The parable of the shrewd manager (16:1–9) is an enigma. Snodgrass identifies sixteen different interpretational approaches to this text (Snodgrass, 407–9). Jesus, at first glance, appears to approve of dishonest bookkeeping. He lauds a manager who responds to employment peril by currying favor with clients by reducing their debts to his patron. This appears to be just the use of power for selfish exploitation that the Gospel has thoroughly resisted. Before succumbing to this interpretational direction, we must remember that parables do not always require allegorical interpretation that link every feature of a parable to an external referent (see Green, 589). Allegorical correspondences of this parable have been used to identify the “wealthy man” as God. But allegorical readings should be eschewed in recognition that the parable makes its point with an internal set of associations that provide hearers enough information to interpret the story without having to fill in excessively large gaps. Further, we must read the parable in its immediate narrative context. It is intelligible in light of the immediate and wider contexts of its host text, on the heels of the parables of lost things. Some interpreters notice that the parable has similarities with the parable of the lost sons. Both the younger son and the manager “squander” (15:13; 16:1; diaskorpizo) significant possessions that are not their own. Both characters realize their only hope is ingratiation to others. Both reflect significant self-interest depicted through an internal monologues (15:17–19; 16:3–4). Both are in search of physical provision and/or shelter (15:19; 16:4). Both are ultimately received back by the person whose wealth they squandered. The two parables are also united by the unexpected responses of the merciful father and wealthy man. The socially deviant response of the merciful father is underscored by the elder son’s anger. The wealthy man’s response is more complex. Interpreters sometimes assume the designation of the man as “wealthy,” especially given Jesus’s “woes” in Luke 6, establishes him as an unfavorable character. Though wealth does not cast an inevitably negative light on Luke’s characters (e.g., the wealthy centurion in Luke 7 who Jesus commends for having faith exceeding that of Israelites), internal considerations in the text suggest the wealthy man is not an exemplar. His commendation of the dishonest manager characterizes him as a man of dishonesty or poor judgment. Nothing in the parable establishes the manager’s actions as virtuous, yet the wealthy man approves of him. No further information is given to the hearer. Jesus’s brief explanatory words make two key points. First, the “children of this age are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light” (16:8). This is an implicit eschatological move by Jesus, who thinks that those of “this age” play by the rules of 148

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“this age” better than those of the “age to come” play by the rules of the “age to come.” The children of the age to come are not as adept at living according to the patterns and practices of the kingdom of God, whose nearness Jesus has proclaimed. Put yet another way, and now in light of a common thread that runs through these two sequential parables, the children of the light are too concerned with living according to accepted patterns of this age. This is especially true with regard to expectations about money. (1) In the first parable, the younger son expects that his squandering of his father’s money will displace him from the family and number him as a slave. He is wrong. The father responds in an unexpected way that contravenes assumptions about money, honor, and family identity. Similarly the elder son expects frivolous use of money will result in disownment. He is wrong. Both are operating according to the rules of “this age.” (2) In the second parable, the manager expects that his squandering of his master’s money will displace him from his work and security, and so he presses further into his fraud, assuming help will come from those who benefit from his dishonesty. He, too, is wrong. The master responds in an unexpected way that contravenes assumptions about money, honor, and patronage, but by affirming predictably manipulative deployments of resources. For Jesus’s followers, it cannot be assumed that shared assumptions about money and its social implications are reliable guides for how children of the light should approach either money or social relations impacted by money. In the parable of the lost son, the merciful father (clearly an approved character) responds on the basis of mercy. In the parable of the shrewd manager, the master (likely an unapproved character) responds on the basis of an alternative value—admiration for shrewd dishonesty that leads to personal gain. The second half of Jesus’s explanatory statement presses further: “Make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous mammon so that when it fails (ekleipō; cf. 22:32), they may welcome you into the eternal tents” (16:9, my translation). “Unrighteous mammon,” the service of which Jesus situates as mutually exclusive to service of God (16:13), should not be used according to strict social convention. It should be used to “make friends,” in part because “unrighteous mammon” will not prove reliable in and of itself. The parable is complex. In light of Jesus’s teaching on the use of status or resources for the flourishing of others rather than for selfish gain, the parable sketches a posture toward money that suggests Jesus’s followers should not operate with money (or money-implicated relationships) according to social expectations. A father may have mercy, and even a rich man may have clemency (albeit for untoward reasons). Followers should operate according to the patterns of the age to come, which Jesus has been unfolding. (16:10–18) Jesus Situates His Group in Light of the Mosaic Law The next section links backward by virtue of the deployment of the adjective adikos and the continued focus on “unrighteous mammon.” The parallel construction of the four couplets in 16:10–12 associates “very little” (x2, 16:10) with both “unrighteous mammon” (16:11) and “what belongs to another” (16:12). Similarly, the couplets associate “much” (x2, 16:10) with both “the true” (16:11) and “your own” (16:12). If we read these sayings with the parable as a near co-text, it extends the eschatological differentiation developed in 16:8–9. “Unrighteous mammon” becomes a metonym for the use of wealth in “this age.” The shrewd manager and his wealthy master are implicated in a use of wealth fit for this age. But Jesus encourages “children of light” to use wealth in ways fit for the age to come. Faithfulness with the goods of this age will result in being given what is “your own,” a clear parallel to “treasures in heaven” (12:33). 149

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The closing saying demonstrates the close connection between the use of “unrighteous mammon” and social identity. Those who love God have a relationship to money shaped by the patterns of the age to come. Those who love money will not be able to serve God (16:13). If radical generosity is an exemplary trait of the Jesus-group, love of money is its clear opposite and identifies someone as being outside the Jesus-group. The identity contrast with (some) Pharisees in 16:14–15 solidifies ingroup identity as it relates to money. The Pharisees (those present since 15:1, but not all Pharisees categorically) are “lovers of money” (16:14), which on the heels of 16:13 situates them as those who “hate God” or “cannot serve God.” What the Pharisees “prize” is “an abomination in the sight of God” (16:15). This stark intergroup comparison pulls Jesus’s followers into a group marked by a particular approach toward money. The social creativity is powerful, as Jesus’s followers utilize radical generosity as a favorable comparative criterion to the erstwhile higher-status Pharisees. That these Pharisees are outside the Jesus-group is evident in their ridicule of Jesus (16:14). Jesus’s critique of the Pharisees connects their love of money to an internal defect of the heart (16:15). The relationship between money-love and a defective heart unfolds later in the Gospel with the relationship between Judas, Satan (who enters Judas’s heart), and money and further still in Acts. Luke 16:16–18 feels like an interjection into the current discourse on eating with sinners (Luke 15) and money (Luke 16). However, in light of the purity concerns of the Pharisees that initiate this extended scene (15:1) and Jesus’s accusation that Pharisees justify themselves based on appearances (16:15), now is an apt time for Jesus to insist that the Mosaic Law is not swept away. Instead, the law is a teleological trajectory toward the kingdom, in which the law comes to its fullness. As Green suggests, “The Scriptures of Israel must be understood in light of the manifestation of God’s purpose within the ministry of Jesus” (Green, 603). Finally, Jesus’s teaching about divorce and remarriage set women and men on more equal ground, restraining male autonomy to divorce and remarry at will (16:18). (16:19–31) The Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus Connects the Use of Money to Identity Luke foregrounds the eschatological stakes of the use of money for the flourishing of others in the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. The rich man displays characteristics we know are contrary to the Jesus-following ingroup: using resources and status for selfish gain, feasting and clothing oneself in finery without concern for the poor man at his gate (16:19). Even the dogs bear more concern for Lazarus than the rich man (16:20). Their tending to his sores echoes the merciful Samaritan in Luke 10. Lazarus finds himself with the eschatological reward promised to the poor in Luke 6:20–21 (16:22), while the rich man finds himself experiencing the woes of Luke 6:24–25 (16:23–24). The rich man’s use of wealth for selfish gain is the only clue in the text to his eschatological fate. The eschatological ramifications for the use of wealth create pressure for ingroup identification and invites inordinately money-loving Pharisees to reconsider their use of wealth. The text also illumines Luke 16:16, by linking the rich man’s selfishness to his failure to hear and do the law and the prophets (16:29). A connection also exists to the parable of the merciful Samaritan, which summarizes the law and the prophets as love of God and neighborly love. The rich man has not practiced the latter.

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(17:1–10) Jesus Teaches about Forgiveness and Service Jesus’s eschatological warning about causing people to “stumble” includes heightened “woe” to any who cause “one of these little ones to stumble” (17:2). This reinforces Jesus’s ongoing concern that his followers’ lives take the shape of cruciform self-donation oriented toward others’ flourishing. The “little ones” are not easy to identify. It is tempting to read mikros as a reference to a child, but Luke’s deployments of mikros can also indicate social status. In Acts, the word describes a spectrum including “small and great” (Acts 8:10; 26:22). In Luke, it can refer to size (12:32, most likely; 19:3; though see my alternate reading) or social status (7:28; 9:48). In the present text, social status seems to be indicated, amplifying Luke’s insistence that those with little power deserve great care. Self-donation that seeks the good of the other undergirds Jesus’s teaching about forgiveness, which should be offered up to seven times a day (17:4). Forgiveness, of course, is native to the exemplary enemy love and radical generosity. The next two sections of Jesus’s teaching cultivate humility among those who could have claim to highest status given their proximity to Jesus, the exemplar and leader of the group. The disciples’ faith remains tiny—smaller than a mustard seed (17:5–6). Jesus further identifies his disciples as slaves of a master, encouraging them not to assume their status is higher than it is (17:7–10). (17:11–19) Luke Introduces another Exemplary Foreigner This narrative begins in uncertain social territory “between Samaria and Galilee” (17:11). The last time the group was there, James and John offered to call down genocidal fire on a Samaritan village. SIT reminds us that social identities become salient based upon the proximity of comparative outgroups, so Luke’s naming of Samaria and Galilee activates the salience of most of Jesus’s followers’ Galilean identity. Jesus’s healing miracle is similar to other cleansing of lepers and his concern with Israelite cultic practice (17:14). In a setting where Galilean identity is salient, Jesus’s elevation of a Samaritan is striking. Only a Samaritan returns to give thanks to Jesus and Jesus’s framing of the Samaritan’s response implicates the intractable ethnic boundary activated by the Samaritan’s presence. He categorizes the Samaritan as a “foreigner” (17:18). It is the only time this categorical word for “other” is deployed in Luke-Acts. However, allogenēs is central to the eschatological anticipation of the inclusion of foreigners by Israel’s God in Isa 56:3–8, a text to which Luke makes powerful allusion in Acts 8. The social identity of the Jesus-group is challenged, as the “foreigner” is the only one who responds properly to Jesus, outdoing ethnic Israelites. Jesus’s statement “your faith has made you well” (17:19) stands in tantalizing juxtaposition to the teaching about mustard-seed faith in Luke 17:6. The Samaritan has a measure of faith that even the Galilean-Israelite disciples do not yet possess. (17:20–37) The Reign of God Is Visible in the Communal Life and Economics of the JesusGroup Luke continues to describe the Pharisees with great nuance. Some are outside the Jesusgroup, but others are friendly to the group. The Pharisees’ question in Luke 17:20 about the timing of the kingdom of God suggests they still respect Jesus’s authority. The importance of Jesus’s answer for the formation of social identity and its correlate reduction of uncertainty cannot be overstated. The Pharisees, like John the Baptist in ch. 7, are searching for certainty about Jesus and his knowledge of the timing of God’s reign. Their question assumes a great deal about the prophetic corpus, not least that God’s reign includes the liberation of Israel from oppressors and

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the establishment of a Davidic king. Jesus reorients the source of certainty about the coming of the kingdom of God. “The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed . . . for, behold, the kingdom of God is among you (all)” (17:21). “Among/within” (entos) is a hapax legomenon in Luke-Acts. The plural “you” inclines toward a reading of “among” or “in the midst of,” rather than “within,” which carries a similar sense but can also be taken to mean “inside of ” in a way that unhelpfully individualizes the kingdom of God. If the kingdom of God is “among you all,” the practices of the community manifest the kingdom—but not in sociopolitically or cosmologically observable signs. For the ingroup, Jesus shifts the locus of identity certainty by establishing communal practices prescribed by Jesus as, themselves, signs that the kingdom has come. If Theophilus (or others) are looking for certainty in the midst of the social risk they are taking, they need look no further than the practices of the community itself. Jesus’s disciples have already been recipients of privileged knowledge (10:23–24), and again Jesus specifically addresses them (17:22). He warns those closest to him about longing for externally observable signs of the “days of the Son of Man” (17:22). Jesus alludes to his glorious return, but only in conjunction with his anticipation that he “must endure much suffering and be rejected by this generation” (17:25). Typical patterns of social and economic exchange at home in the empire are at odds with the hoped-for kingdom of God. Eating, drinking, marrying, buying, selling, planting, and building all run the risk of distracting from the Son of Man’s coming. Likewise, pausing for belongings puts one at risk of eschatological catastrophe (17:31). This is one of the strongest affirmations yet of Luke’s conviction that resources must be deployed for the flourishing of the other and not for selfish exploitation. Just as love of money in 16:13 was equated with hatred of God, and as in 16:15 the love of money could be an abomination to God, so here the prioritization of standard imperial economic practices (with their typical injustice and structural harm to the poor) is at odds with participation in the kingdom of God. Jesus punctuates his bracing teaching with a return to a now-familiar theme: “Those who try to make their life secure will lose it, but those who lose their life will keep it” (17:33). SIT suggests one reason to join a social group is to reduce uncertainty. Here, Jesus locates certainty eschatologically, critiquing trust in the imperial patterns of economic certainty and social stratification at home in this age. Membership in the Jesus-group has only the eschatological certainty of the covenantal promises of God made visible to members by virtue of the practices of the group itself. Radical generosity and enemy love, when visible in the community, (1) create certainty that—by the Spirit’s power—the kingdom of God has come near, and (2) those very Spirit-cultivated attributes have material benefit for the community and its members. (18:1–30) The Vulnerable Group Must Persevere As Jesus approaches Jerusalem, his teaching increasingly focuses on perseverance. In light of his coming betrayal and the identity threat it will bring to the community, Jesus’s teaching on perseverance in the face of social pressure secures the solidarity of followers with the ingroup. The parable of the persistent widow highlights the perseverance of the widow and God’s faithfulness to those who “cry to him day and night” (18:7). God’s timely dispensation of justice is contrasted with the stubborn denial of justice by the unjust judge (18:7–8). The people of God should not cease in their prayers for justice. The reciprocity of acknowledgment in the explanation of the parable that hearkens back to Jesus’s promise of reciprocal acknowledgment of his followers at the coming of the Son of Man (9:26–27). God will grant justice, but will he find faithfulness on earth? 152

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The parable of the Pharisee and tax collector likewise urges prayer as the proper interaction between followers of Jesus and Israel’s God (18:9–14). The surprising status switch of the tax collector (a Roman collaborator) and the Pharisee (an exemplary Israelite) is used by Jesus to destabilize social stratifications and to indicate that internal postures, rather than external acclamation, embed a person in God’s story. Jesus’s attentiveness to last-ness and least-ness is displayed in 18:15–17. There Jesus pauses to honor children, recognizing that the kingdom of God belongs to “such as these” (18:16). What is more, one must enter the kingdom as a “little child” if one will enter it at all. The exemplars in this section of Luke 18 are striking: an annoyingly persistent widow, a tax collector, and a child. The structures of the Jesus-group destabilize Roman (and Israelite) social stratifications. The encounter with the rich ruler closes this section (18:18–30). In Luke’s story world, the ruler’s claim to have kept all the commandments since his youth is resonant with the lawyer’s piety in Luke 10:25–28 (18:21). In both texts, characters are concerned with fidelity to the Mosaic Law, but the rich ruler does not see the Torah’s telos as God and neighborly love. The commandments Jesus offers in 18:20 are, ostensibly, capable of completion. The ruler can justifiably claim to have completed that faithfulness. God and neighborly love, however, are not commands that can be completed. They shape a posture of ever-overflowing outward movement, encapsulated in Luke’s emphasis on radical generosity, enemy love, and cruciform self-donation, as well as his aversion to using identity, status, or resources for selfish exploitation. The rich ruler understands the law, but not the telos of the law. Jesus presses on just this point and, predictably, Jesus’s provocation is economically modulated (18:22). Love of God and neighborly love must be exemplified—at least for this man—through radical generosity for the flourishing of the other. Jesus’s disciples, represented by Peter, assert their participation in cruciform self-donation, having embraced economic and social vulnerability to associate with Jesus (18:28). Jesus promises eschatological reward for this self-disregard, promising they will “get back very much more in this age, and in the age to come eternal life” (18:30). Once more, Jesus exercises social creativity, establishing self-disregard even about kinship relations as an intergroup comparative criterion. (18:31–43) Jesus Exemplifies Cruciform Self-Donation In a moment of particular intimacy, Jesus takes the disciples aside and shares how he will enact the self-donation and radical generosity to which he has called his followers (18:31–33). This reestablishes Jesus as an exemplar of characteristics that function as intergroup comparative criteria with proximate outgroups. Jesus again predicts his betrayal by his people, his death at the hands of non-Israelites, and his resurrection. Luke is emphatic that the fate of Jesus is neither anomalous nor the triumph of the empire. It is rooted in the story of Israel as the accomplishment of “everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets” (18:31). The location of Jesus’s betrayal within Israel’s unfolding story should not be missed. Jesus, the exemplar of the group, experiences social dislocation and the crushing power of the empire precisely as the unfolding of Israel’s story. In the same way, the uncertainty suffered by Theophilus and Luke’s wider audience because of identification with the Jesus-group and its counter-imperial economic and social practices is situated within Israel’s story. But this is so incongruently counterintuitive that Luke tells us once more that the disciples could not understand Jesus’s continued attestation that his kingly vocation entailed betrayal by some of his own people and death at the hands of imperial oppressors (18:34). 153

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Luke 18 closes with the story of the blind beggar who recognizes Jesus as Son of David (18:35–43). Ironically, though the disciples do not yet understand Jesus’s teaching, a blind beggar recognizes Jesus, who again uses his power to seek the flourishing of a marginalized Israelite. (19:1–28) Who Is a Son of Abraham and What Kind of King Is Jesus? As a chief tax collector, Zacchaeus was a collaborator with the structures of Roman imperial oppression and thus hardly a prototypical Israelite. Because contact with outgroups activate the salience of ingroup identities, the introduction of a traitorous Israelite would activate exemplary Israelite identity. But Zacchaeus’s identity—activated at the start of the story and redefined by Jesus at the conclusion of the story—is not what people think. Zacchaeus is introduced with three descriptors. He is (1) tax collector, (2) rich, and (3) ‘ēlika mikros. The Greek is popularly read as “short.” Green argues that ‘ēlika is better translated “age” or “stature” (Green, 669–70; cf. Luke 2:52). “Small in stature” may be a mixed reference to Zacchaeus’s small size and status. The crowd blocks Zacchaeus’s access to Jesus, refusing to make way for this low status, traitorous tax collector. But Luke describes Zacchaeus in a remarkably positive light, again shifting expectations about who has access to the Jesus-group. Zacchaeus was “trying to see who Jesus was” (19:3). Jesus, who continually sees people that others do not see (cf. 7:44), takes note of Zacchaeus perched in a tree and imposes himself upon Zacchaeus’s hospitality (19:5). Zacchaeus is “happy to welcome him” (19:6), exhibiting precisely the reception Jesus hopes his envoys receive when he sends the twelve and the seventy on itinerant mission (Luke 9, 10). The response of “all who saw it” reveals the danger of ingroup assumptions about the boundaries of identity. They “began to grumble and said, ‘He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner’” (19:7), a posture that sets them in league with the grumbling Pharisees of Luke 15:1 and the elder brother of 15:2–30. In every case, those who grumble at the expansiveness of Jesus’s welcome exclude themselves from the conviviality of feasting. This example of outgroup homogeneity, the expectation that every outgroup member is the same, precludes the crowd from understanding that Jesus might be making a judgment about Zacchaeus based on some factor other than his identity as a tax collector. Zacchaeus’s financial practices call for attention to the Greek text. English translations usually render the Greek verbs “give” (didōmi) and “pay back” (apodidōmi) as future tense, interpreting Zacchaeus’s economic practice as an act of repentance. In this reading, Zacchaeus was defrauding but now, after encountering Jesus, he will act with justice. The verbs, however, are actually present tense, which presents this not as a moment of transformation but as a moment of Zacchaeus’s vindication. “Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I pay back four times as much” (19:8). Taking Zacchaeus’s words as an example of an ongoing commitment to economic justice extends Luke’s positive characterization of Zacchaeus throughout. Zacchaeus’s practices resonate with exemplary expressions of radical generosity that identify a person as a child of the Most High. Jesus makes a striking, identity-based proclamation on Zacchaeus’s behalf: “Today salvation has come to this house, because he, too, is a son of Abraham” (19:9). Jesus identifies Zacchaeus as a member of the Israelite ingroup, publicly identifying him in the midst of a crowd in which he was of “small stature.” For John the Baptist, being a son of Abraham was marked by “bearing fruit,” something Zacchaeus was clearly doing with his economic practice. The bent-over-

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woman’s identity as daughter of Abraham was similarly publicly proclaimed by Jesus. Salvation came to the house of Zacchaeus precisely because the son was publicly recognized as a son, and the one who was marginalized is reincorporated. Jesus’s reintegration of Zacchaeus into the family of Israel compares closely to the parable of the lost son. The ramifications of Zacchaeus’s vindication are profound for the Jesus-group. Those who identify with the Jesus-group must be able to accommodate even tax collectors into their number and, hence, allow their own social identity to be shaped by being a part of a group that contains those who have sat in tense relationship to the Israelite ethnic group. The fervor surrounding the relationship between Jesus and the establishment of God’s kingdom escalates as he nears Jerusalem. The focus on kingdom/kingship in 19:11–27 and the subsequent triumphal entry draw the two stories together and protect us from making the critical error of allegorizing the parable. Luke says Jesus told the parable “because he was near Jerusalem, and because they supposed the kingdom of God was to appear immediately” (19:11). We know that Jesus positions the kingdom of God as something already “among” his followers and that it does not come with things you can observe (17:20–21). Thus we can surmise that the parable functions not to exemplify the kingdom of God but to correct a misguided impulse against which Jesus has already been on guard. The parable is fueled by a logic of reciprocity and all-too-familiar expressions of imperial power. The two slaves who multiply the riches of the traveling nobleman/king are rewarded with sociopolitical power (19:17, 19). They earn money for the king, so the king provides them power over cities. The parabolic reciprocity is farcical. Though the “pounds” in question are of great value—something like three months’ wages for a day laborer—they are not so significant in the realm of kingly riches. Conversely, the slave who returns the king’s original deposit without increase has the money taken from him. The bloodthirsty king commands that that his followers bring the enemies that did not want him to be king “and slaughter them in my presence” (19:27). If we are tempted toward an allegorical reading of the text that creates associations between internal features of the parable and external realities, we can fall into the disastrous trap of equating the king in the parable with God (or, as some have done, with Jesus who is about to make kingly entry into Jerusalem). It is imperative to interpret this story on the basis of its internal correspondences. If we do so, and if we read the parable in its narrative context, we see that the king is an antitype of a follower of Jesus. The slaves’ terrified response to the king, and the king’s affirmation of that response, is irreconcilably out of step with the Luke’s description of Jesus’s power throughout the Gospel, and diametrically opposed to the imitatio Dei text in 6:35–36. The slave says, “I was afraid of you, because you are a harsh man; you take what you did not deposit, and reap what you did not sow” (19:21). The king affirms this characterization, chastising the slave for not at least collecting interest on the money (which, notably, was forbidden for Israelites; see Exod 22:25; Lev 25:35– 38; Deut 23:19–20). Compare the characterization of the king with the fuller quotation of 6:35– 36: “But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.” The king is characterized as unkind, greedy, one who lends expecting exploitative return. Finally, the closing words that demand the slaughter of enemies in his presence are the utter antithesis of enemy love and mercy that marks the life of the Most High. 155

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The parable warns hearers about the hope for an imminent Rome-like kingdom. The kings of this world utilize their power for selfish (and often violent) exploitation. The way to power in the Jesus-group is different, as will be exemplified in the following text.

In Jerusalem, Jesus’s Self-Giving Power Contrasts with Imperial Power (19:29–23:56) (19:29–48) The Proclamation and Exercise of Jesus’s Kingship Elicits Murderous Outgroup Violence Jesus’s entry into Jerusalem includes an intertextual allusion that clarifies Jesus’s kingly identity. The resonance with Zech 9:9–10 identifies Jesus as the eschatological king, coming humbly on a donkey (not a war horse). The king comes, in Zechariah, to cut off the chariot, warhorse, and battle bow, and to “command peace to the nations” as part of his to-the-endsof-the-earth dominion. The Jerusalem crowd, fueled with imperial expectations of their own, recognize the symbolic act, though without recognizing the type of kingship Jesus is initiating. They spread cloaks on the road and proclaim: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” (19:38). The kingly identity foretold by Gabriel in Luke 1:32–33 is here actualized by the crowds. When “some” Pharisees urge Jesus to quiet his disciples, he says, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out” (19:40). Jesus’s reference to the animation of stones hearkens to John’s claim that God can raise up children for Abraham from stones (3:8). The intra-textual link clarifies that participation in the Abrahamic ingroup is marked by two factors that are now synonymous: bearing fruit (3:8) and recognizing Jesus (19:38). The stark contrast between Jesus and the king figure in the preceding parable (19:11–27) is clear in Jesus’s lament over Jerusalem (19:41–44). There, rather than inflict violence on the city in which he will die, Jesus weeps (19:41). Instead of taking personal vengeance, Jesus laments the fact that vengeance will be meted out on Jerusalem. His apparent prediction of the siege on Jerusalem anticipates that the Roman imperial machine “will crush you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave within you one stone upon another” (19:44). For Jesus, this will occur because of two parallel things that Jerusalem Israelites did not “recognize” (19:42, 44; egnōs): (1) “the things that make for peace” and (2) “the time of your visitation.” The latter is linked via episcopē to the Benedictus (1:78), where the verb episkeptomai defined the coming of Jesus with the peace-bringing mercy of God. The way of Jesus is the way of peace. To not recognize Jesus is to participate in a world of violence. There is an important link between the characteristic identity of the Jesus-group and the polarities of peace and violence. When power, privilege, resources, or status are leveraged for the good of the other, peace can result, and the poor and marginalized are particular beneficiaries. When power, privilege, resources, or status are leveraged for selfish exploitation, violence ensues, and the poor and marginalized are particularly victimized. When Jesus enters the temple in 19:45, he activates Isa 56:7 and Jer 7:11 to sketch a stark contrast between the temple’s ideal function and the actual practices of some Israelite powerholders. Isaiah 56 is an important text in Acts 8, too, where it speaks to the full inclusion of foreigners and eunuchs. Isaiah establishes the temple’s vocation as a “house of prayer for all 156

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nations” (Isa 56:7). It is striking that Luke’s quotation of Isaiah does not follow Mark’s inclusion of “for all nations.” I argue that Luke will complete the “for all nations” portion of Isaiah in Acts 8. Luke’s contrast of the temple’s prescribed function as a place of divine and human interaction with its actual function as a place of economic exploitation is powerful. It catches the attention of a different group: “the chief priests, the scribes, and the leaders of the people” (Luke 19:47). This group is more closely connected to the temple and holds more structural power than the Pharisees. They view Jesus’s action as an attack on their identity and power, and their response is at odds with Jesus’s way of power. They express murderous intent but are restrained from action by Jesus’s tremendous popularity with the people (19:48). The latter point is essential, as it prevents interpreters from erroneously suggesting that all Israelites rejected Jesus. Luke is careful to leave culpability in the hands of power-holders, a move that should not surprise us given his consistent reworking of the other-centered use of power by God, Jesus, and Jesus’s followers. (20:1–47) Jesus Heightens Identity Contrast with His Temple Teaching A series of challenges in the temple heighten identity contrast between Jesus (and his followers) and the temple elite: chief priests, scribes, and elders (20:1), along with Sadducees (20:27). Jesus foils an initial question about the source of his authority with a counter-question that unmasks the leaders’ ironic fear of the people (20:1–8). Elite leaders cannot answer Jesus’s question about John’s baptism for fear of either (1) being thought foolish for not believing John or (2) being stoned for impugning John’s reputation as a prophet. Their explicit deliberation about the response of the people reveals the power of social identity in a collectivistic context (20:5–6). The parable of the vineyard owner and tenants heightens identity contrast between Jesus’s followers and the Jerusalem elite (20:9–10). The tenants in the parable withhold the fruit of the vineyard for their own benefit (20:10). They are so committed to using the fruit of the vineyard for selfish exploitation that they resort to violence that reaches a crescendo with the murder of the master’s son (20:15). The narrative treatment by Luke sets the Jerusalem elite explicitly out of step with the larger trajectory Luke has been developing for the identity of the Jesus-group and its relationship to power, resources, and status. The tenants decide that they would rather result to murder than share the fruit of the vineyard: “Let us kill him so that the inheritance may be ours” (20:14). The parable highlights the inevitable result of an identity shaped by self-preservation and selfish exploitation. The parable, which likely alludes to Isa 5, also provides opportunity for stern eschatological warning. In the world of the parable, the aggrieved master will exert punishment on the tenants and invite others to manage the vineyard. The differentiation between Jesus, his followers, and the elite is recognized by the scribes and chief priests, who discern that “he had told this parable against them” (20:19). The next trap set for Jesus attempts to lure him into a denial of imperial taxation authority so as to conjure a reason to hand Jesus over to the governor (20:20–26). Jesus resists a question about whether it is lawful to pay taxes to the emperor. But Jesus establishes a bifocal reality that resonates with his teaching on money in Luke 16: “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s” (20:25). Jesus refuses to be trapped by the question, instead creating a scenario in which “unrighteous mammon” (hearkening back to Luke 16) has its use in “this age” but is superseded by the eschatological economy in which all belongs to God. In 20:27–40, Sadducees enter the frame for the first time, asking Jesus a trap question about resurrection—a particular doctrinal dispute held between the resurrection-denying Sadducees 157

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and the resurrection-affirming Pharisees that will loom large later in Acts (20:27–40). Jesus robustly defends resurrection, which from an identity standpoint is a powerful act of social creativity for his followers. In Jesus’s first prediction of his death (9:21–22), he mentions his own resurrection—and the general expansion of resurrection expectation posits a powerful benefit of ingroup membership that solidifies the identity of the group under threat. He draws the story of Israel into the story of resurrection, for the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is not the God of the dead, but of the living; to God all of them are alive (20:37–38). The differentiation within the Israelite ethnic ingroup is on display here, as the resurrection-affirming scribes—who are sometimes opposed to Jesus—now praise his teaching. One final challenge remains, this time with Jesus asking “them” (the Sadducees are still in the frame here, though the “them” could imply the other groups in this temple-setting, too) how David, in Ps 110:1, can name as “Lord” the Messiah who is also to be his son (20:41–44). The warning in Luke 20:45–47 once more associates the use of status for selfish exploitation as the antithesis to identity within the Jesus-group. Jesus criticizes scribes who long for greetings of respect, seats of honor in synagogues and at banquets, who say showy prayers, and who “devour widows’ houses” (20:46–47). Elite who use their status and identity for selfish gain and to the detriment of the (especially, poor) other will receive the greater condemnation. By this point in the Gospel, the identity contrast between followers of Jesus and those who resist Jesus is clear. This differentiation runs through the center of ethnic Israelite identity, a fact that validates Simeon’s long-ago claim that Jesus would be the cause of the rising and falling of many within Israel (2:34). The way of Jesus is exemplary Israelite identity; exemplary Israelite identity is the way of Jesus. This is an identity that not all Israelites will share. It is marked by a particular understanding of the identity and character of Israel’s God, and imitation of that character. It enacts Israel’s covenantal privilege as a gift that is to be leveraged for the sake of the other. This means that the Jesus-group will be expansively hospitable to the poor, the marginalized, and even the traitorous rich within Israel (and, in Acts, beyond Israel). This identity is only functional when ingroup members activate as intergroup comparative criteria the enemy love and radical generosity for the sake of the other. This posture, which leverages privilege, status, resources, and power for the flourishing of the other, is the central point of differentiation between the Jesus-group and proximate outgroups. (21:1–4) Jesus-Following Identity Is Available Even to the Poor On the heels of the warning about the selfish exploitation of the widow-devouring scribes, Jesus’s admiration of the widow’s tiny offering is indicative of the fact that status and resources are irrelevant to the characteristics that differentiate the Jesus-group (21:3–4). As exemplified by the widow, all people can use whatever gifts they have as a means for the cruciform self-donation inherent to the Jesus-group. (21:5–38) Jesus’s Eschatological Discourse Anticipates Identity Threat and Urges Perseverance While Jesus admires the radical generosity of a poor widow, his disciples admire the beauty and grandeur of the temple precinct, a posture that creates an opportunity for Jesus to reiterate his warning about Jerusalem’s pending destruction (cf. 19:43–44). The eschatological discourse that dominates the remainder of ch. 21 has three significant ramifications for the social identity of the group under threat: (1) discernment about the nature of power within the kingdom, (2) patient

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endurance in the face of observable natural and sociopolitical catastrophe, and (3) courage in the face of intergroup violence. Luke 21:7–8 is the second time in Luke that Jesus expressed concern that his disciples could be lured away by insurrectionist pretenders to his identity (cf. 17:20–23). Though Jesus suggests that “many will come” in his name (21:8), his followers must have discernment. Likewise, natural and sociopolitical catastrophe will not mean that the end will “follow immediately” (21:9). These difficulties do not mean that things are going wrong for Jesus’s followers. Finally, in the midst of the dawning of these eschatological events, Jesus predicts that his followers will share his fate, being handed over to synagogues and prisons, brought before kings, and betrayed even by relatives and friends. Some of them will be put to death and they will be “hated by all” (21:17). The identity ramifications of this discourse are powerful. Jesus is now creating stark intergroup differentiation between his followers and all others. And, because Jesus’s group has identity markers that are intelligible within the reign of God but not within their social context, their future is vulnerable. In light of this vulnerability, Jesus says, “By your endurance you will gain your souls” (21:19). Sharing identity as a child of the Most High clearly sets one in a precarious position in the midst of the present age. In 21:20–24, Jesus again predicts the calamitous siege of Jerusalem and its inhabitants. Jesus links the temple’s trampling to the “non-Israelites” and the “times of the non-Israelites” (ethnē). In many ways, the ethnē have been minor players in the narratives of Luke, though the specter of Rome does loom over the entire narrative. Attributing the destruction of Jerusalem to nonIsraelites sets the stage for the challenge of non-Israelite incorporation in Acts. The eschatological trials culminate with the “Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory” (21:27). Jesus again leans on an allusion to Dan 7:13 to associate his glorious return with the Danielic vindication of the oppressed exilic people of God. Jesus’s return will be the vindication of God’s people. As the disciples wait, they must be alert and patient, not weighed down with the “worries of this life” (21:36). The final exhortation establishes once more the identity of the Jesus-group as those whose lives should be marked by the patterns of the age to come, rather than the concerns of “this life.” (22:1–6) The Influence of Satan Corrupts Identity and Is Manifest in Isolation, Violence, and Greed Chapter 22 begins with a jarring juxtaposition: the celebration of the Passover remembrance of Israel’s deliverance from Egypt (and hoped-for deliverance from Rome) and the stated intention of power-brokers closest to the temple to “put him [Jesus] to death” (22:2). Again, Jesus’s popular acclaim is established by the fact that the chief priests and scribes remain afraid of the people (22:2). An important identity-related theme emerges in 22:3 with Luke’s disclosure that “Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot.” Luke has mentioned Satan in 10:18, 11:18, and 13:16, as well as “the devil” in 4:2–13 and 8:12. The specific appearances of “Satan” earlier in the Gospel position the character as having fallen from heaven like lighting, having a kingdom of his own, and nefariously binding a woman for eighteen years. The “devil” is characterized in 8:12 as taking the word of God from the heart of those who have recently heard. In 4:2–13, importantly, Satan tests Jesus to use his power, identity, and authority to do acts of self-preservation and self-deliverance—the opposite of Jesus’s exemplary cruciform selfdonation. 159

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Unlike Jesus in the wilderness, Judas falls fully under the influence of Satan (22:3). Three effects on Judas are immediate. First, the influence of Satan results in social isolation. Judas “was one of the twelve” (22:3), but possessed by Satan, he self-isolates from his group (22:4). Second, under the influence of Satan, Judas enters into league with violence. His immediate move is to conspire with those who seek to put Jesus to death (22:4). Third, under the influence of Satan, Judas’s self-isolation and conspiracy with violence overlaps with monetary gain (22:5). Judas uses his identity as a disciple of Jesus for selfish exploitation. The result is isolation and violence—two consistent characteristics of those outside the Jesus-group in Luke-Acts. (22:7–38) Jesus Identifies Himself and His Death with the Deliverance of Israel The symbolism of the Passover meal is significant, and Luke connects Jesus’s life to the hoped-for Passover-like deliverance of Israel. For attentive hearers of the Gospel, it is no longer a surprise that Jesus would reinterpret the delivering action of God through his own body and blood. Again and again, Jesus has defined his power in terms of cruciform self-giving. Here, Jesus connects the Passover bread to his body “given for you” and the wine as the new covenant in his blood “poured out for you” (22:19–20). The oscillation between Jesus’s desire for solidarity and community with his group and the self-isolating influence of Satan on Judas is clear in Jesus’s stated desire to drink the fruit of the vine with the disciples when the kingdom comes and Jesus’s awareness that there was a betrayer in their midst (22:15–16, 22). The extent to which Jesus’s cruciform redefinition of power is at radical odds with typical modes of power is evident in the fact that, at the very moment Jesus redefines Passover hope through his own body and blood, the disciples enter into an argument about which of them is greatest (22:24). The scene would be comical, if it was not for its tragedy. Jesus contrasts his ingroup with the “kings of the non-Israelites.” The latter lord power over their subjects and give gifts in order to be called “benefactors” (22:25). Jesus’s critique of benefaction, with its toxic re-inscription of hierarchies of honor/shame, points again to Jesus’s teaching about radical generosity. This teaching is yet another reason to resist interpreting the parable in Luke 19:11–27 as an allegorical representation of Israel’s God. The greatest must be like the youngest and the leader like the slave (22:26–27). The countercultural nature of this teaching is evident in Jesus’s answer to his own rhetorical question: “For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one at the table?” (22:27). This description of normal social practices is out of step with the ways of Jesus and the kingdom he has initiated. After naming the accepted social reality, he says, “But I am among you as one who serves” (22:27). Luke establishes Jesus as an exemplar completing a chain of exemplarity. Disciples should be like Jesus. Jesus is like the Father. Jesus’s disciples, to the extent that they follow Jesus into cruciform self-donation, can be like the Father. Though Jesus is among the twelve as one who serves, and though they are to emulate him, this does not mean that their identity is not close to God, high-status, and powerful. For in the next breath, Jesus confers upon the disciples a kingdom and the vocation to judge the twelve tribes of Israel. This, too, comes with something of a chain of gifting. “I confer on you, just as the Father has conferred on me, a kingdom” (22:28). Once more, and powerfully, we see that the disciples can share in Jesus’s identity as the Son of the Most High—here stepping into the kingly power that Jesus’s identity entails already in Luke 1:32–33. Luke 22:24–30 represents a common Lukan rhetorical device, setting side-by-side texts that indicate the disciples (or Jesus) have great 160

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authority with texts that indicate that true identity is shaped in radical generosity or enemy love. The function of this characteristic arrangement is that power is redefined through cruciform selfdonation, and cruciform self-donation is redefined as power. Satan returns to the narrative in 22:31–34, as Jesus addresses Simon with a double vocative, “Simon, Simon, listen! Satan has demanded to sift all of you like wheat” (22:31). Jesus describes the likelihood of his disciples’ betrayal as their inevitable act of self-preservation. Once again we see that the influence of Satan leads to behavior antithetical to Jesus’s exemplary life. Under the influence of Satan, humans privilege self-preservation over self-donation. Jesus does not indicate that his prayer will prevent their turn toward self-preservation. But he prays that Simon will, after turning back, strengthen his brothers (22:32). Jesus thus establishes Peter as an important leader among the twelve, a characteristic that will be strengthened in Acts. Peter vehemently denies that he will reject Jesus—yet Jesus is certain that denial is in the future of all of his followers (22:33–34). Jesus is equally certain that, in light of his impending death, his disciples are particularly vulnerable. Their social welcome is so uncertain now that Jesus counsels a different practice of itinerancy. The disciples must now take a bag, purse, cloak, and a sword (22:36). The latter is a puzzling saying in light of both Jesus’s earlier teaching and his explicit rebuke of Peter’s use of the sword in the following pericope. It can at least be said that it is clear that Jesus’s limitation of the number of swords to two means that Jesus is not prompting his followers to envision a military insurrection (22:38). (22:39–46) Jesus, the Exemplar, Hears and Does the Word of the Father in a Context of Tremendous Vulnerability Jesus’s prayer on the Mount of Olives echoes Mary’s exemplary faithfulness in Luke 1:38: “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done” (22:42). Jesus, even in a situation where he is under threat, refuses to do anything other than hear and follow the will of the Father. (22:47–53) The Arrest of Jesus Reveals His Self-Donation and Enemy Love In the arrest scene, Judas’s Satanic oppression prompts an act of betrayal via an ironic sign of love (22:47–48). Luke’s conviction that enemy love is at the heart of Jesus’s identity and the social identity of Jesus’s followers is apparent in Jesus’s rebuke of the disciple who struck off the ear of the high priest’s ear (22:50–51). This servant of Jesus’s enemy is a recipient of mercy; Jesus heals his ear. Jesus interprets the power of the chief priests, temple police, and elders as the power of the sword and the power of darkness (22:53). (22:54–62) Jesus’s Arrest Reveals Peter’s Self-Preservation Peter’s experience in the courtyard of the high priest’s house reveals two features of identity in Luke. First, Peter is shamed by choosing self-preservation over solidarity with Jesus. The fact that it is a servant girl who initiates his denial accentuates Peter’s cowardice (22:56). Interesting, though, for Luke’s awareness of the realities of social identity is that Peter’s third accuser identifies him as a “Galilean” (22:59). It is a reminder that Judea, not Galilee, is more exemplary for Israelite identity thanks to the location of the temple. The scene reveals clear subgroup stratification within Israelite ethnic identity. Second, Peter’s denial is an example of self-preservation instead of self-donation, a bitter failure for Peter and a betrayal of his terminal identity as a disciple of Jesus. Luke records a poignant

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moment at the instant of Peter’s third denial: “The Lord turned and looked at Peter” (22:61). Once more, Jesus sees people when others do not, and here he sees the truth about Peter when others cannot yet ascertain that truth. Peter, aware of his failure, departs and weeps bitterly (22:62). (22:63–71) Jesus’s Trial Represents Two Ways of Power Those who hold power over Jesus’s body demonstrate a way of power antithetical to the Jesus-group, beating and mocking Jesus through the night (22:63–65). These underlings give way, in the morning, to the “assembly of the elders of the people, both chief priests and scribes” who bring Jesus “to their council” (22:66). Though prior to this scene there have been multiple attempts to entrap Jesus with various charges, here the trial hinges on the question, “If you are the Christ, tell us” (22:67). Jesus answers somewhat elusively, “If I tell you, you will not believe; and if I question you, you will not answer. But from now on the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the power of God” (22:67–69). This prompts a follow-up question that returns Luke’s to the initial attestation of Jesus’s identity in the Annunciation: “All of them asked, ‘Are you, then, the Son of God?’” (22:70). Luke’s hearers know the answer is yes, given Luke’s narrative. Jesus responds by highlighting his accusers’ ironic profession of his identity as Son of God: “You say that I am” (22:70). This is enough for his accusers to bring him before Pilate, the Roman governor (22:71). On the one hand, this text invites us to discern the legal or socioreligious reasons that this exchange is enough evidence to move Jesus’s trial forward. Charges of blasphemy have already been leveled at Jesus based upon his implicit and explicit claims to relatedness with God. But in the narrative world, it is imperative to note that it is his identity as Son of God—and Luke’s particular description of Jesus’s way of inhabiting that identity—that leads inexorably to Jesus’s death. It is a brilliant piece of narrative art that connects this moment of peril back to the Annunciation. There, with no hint of danger, we hear that Jesus will be Son of the Most High, Son of David, Son of God. Throughout, we have seen that Luke’s emphasis on Jesus’s identity as Son of the Most High/Son of God is always connected to Jesus’s unwillingness to use his identity, power, status, or resources for selfish exploitation. Instead, Jesus practices mercy—cruciform self-donation characterized by radial generosity and enemy love. This way of being Son of God, in the context of Roman imperial power and its influence on power-holders in Israel, inexorably connects identity as Son of God to death at the hands of temple elite and the Roman powerholders. (23:1–25) Pilate and Herod Represent an Outgroup Marked by Self-Preservation The charges Israelite leaders level before Pilate are a mix of transgressions against Israelite law (“perverting our nation”) and the imperial order (“forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the Messiah, a king”) (23:2). The latter prompt Pilate to ask, “Are you the king of the Judeans?” (23:3). Jesus’s elusive answer engenders general disinterest from Pilate, who immediately finds Jesus innocent (23:4). The crowd, however, insists that Jesus has been stirring up people throughout Judea from the starting point of the Jesus-movement in Galilee (23:5). Two data points show Luke’s attentiveness to realities of identity in Roman Palestine. First, Pilate asks Jesus if he is “King of the Judeans.” Recall that “Judean” is the Roman name for Israelites dwelling in the Roman province of Judea. Israelites, apart from the presence of Romans, never refer to themselves as Judeans. Second, the Judeans clamoring to Pilate note the Galilean origins of the Jesus-movement. It is a reminder—and a reflection of historical evidence—that Galileans

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were not considered prototypical Israelites given their distance from Jerusalem and the temple. Jesus’s Galilean identity draws Pilate’s interest, and he cedes to the crowd, sending Jesus to Herod, whose client kingship included Galilee (23:7). In Pilate’s accession to the crowd, we see the full flowering of Luke’s ironic depiction of Pilate and some of Israel’s leaders. Though these characters hold power, they are always cowed by the will of the people. In the end, their power is unmasked as mere self-preservation (the opposite of cruciform self-donation) through any means necessary. The treatment of Jesus by Herod, who likely felt more threatened by charges of kingship than Pilate, represents the typical deployment of power outside of the Jesus-group: violence manifest in mocking and contempt (23:11). Herod, too, is portrayed as relatively impotent, quickly sending Jesus back to Pilate (23:11). Luke reports that Pilate and Herod became friends that day. Their formation of a common ingroup identity is not a surprise, given their shared practices of power through violent self-preservation (23:12). Jesus’s second encounter with Pilate begins with Pilate’s second accession to the crowd. He finds Jesus innocent and plans to flog and release him (23:13–16). However, the crowd rises up and calls for Jesus’s crucifixion. Pilate protests once more (23:22), but finally “Pilate gave his verdict that their demand should be granted” (23:24). It is a dark moment: crowd rule at its ugliest and injustice in its rawest form. (23:26–56) Jesus Expresses Spirit-Formed Identity through His Death; surprising Characters Appear as Exemplars of Loyalty to Jesus While Pilate, Herod, the temple elite, and the gathered crowd appear as villains, Luke presents surprising characters as exemplars of the humanity displayed by Jesus. Simon of Cyrene, an African, carries the cross for Jesus (23:26). Women are notable for the grief they bear at this moment of inhumanity and injustice (23:27). One criminal crucified with Jesus recognizes his identity and asks for mercy (23:39–43). A centurion, upon Jesus’s death, “praised God and said, ‘Certainly this man was righteous’” (23:47; dikaios). Women who had followed Jesus from Galilee remained with his corpse after the crowds returned home (23:49). Joseph from Arimathea, an Israelite leader, is evidence that not all on the Sanhedrin agreed to the plan for Jesus’s crucifixion (23:51). He dares to ask Pilate for Jesus’s body and offers his own as-yet-unused rock-hewn tomb (23:52–53). Women from Galilee make preparation to give Jesus burial according to the Mosaic Law (23:55–56). The rapid inclusion of these characters, all of whom—save for Joseph—outside of what might be considered high-status Israelite identity, is a fitting encapsulation of the expansive horizon of the Jesus-group in Luke and foreshadows the radical social expansiveness of the Jesusmovement in Acts. Even in his crucifixion, Jesus remains the exemplar of enemy love and faithfulness to Israel’s God. He prays, asking God to forgive the men who affix him to the cross upon which he will die (23:34). He offers mercy to one of the men crucified with him (23:43). He offers himself to his Father upon his death, signifying that the trajectory of his life both began with and ended with relatedness to his Father, Israel’s God (23:46). All of this ironically transpires as Jesus hangs beneath the inscription, “This is the King of the Judeans” (23:38). The near-sadistic nature of the titulus is a reminder that those who claim to usurp Roman authority will face a shameful and torturous death. In Luke’s Gospel, though, it functions as yet another coinherence of Jesus’s power/identity and his cruciform self-donation. 163

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Jesus’s crucifixion ends with a brief but striking sentence about the spice-bearing women: “On the sabbath they rested according to the commandment” (23:56). At the end of Jesus’s life we remain precisely where we found ourselves at the beginning of Jesus’s life: in a context of Israelite covenantal faithfulness. The entire story of Jesus is situated within Israel’s covenantal faithfulness to God and God’s covenantal faithfulness to Israel.

The Jesus-Story Is the Story of Israel and All Peoples (24:1–52) (24:1–52) The Resurrected Jesus Embeds His Story in the Story of Israel, a Story Incorporating God’s People into a Mission for All Peoples Luke’s account of Jesus’s resurrection provides a rich conclusion to the Gospel and a fitting transition toward Acts. It is not insignificant, given Luke’s already expansive intra-Israelite vision for the Jesus-group, that it is the loyal spice-bearing women who first encounter the empty tomb and the resurrection-heralding angels (24:1–10). The content of the resurrection announcement in 24:6–7 validates Jesus’s prediction from Luke 9:22. The inclusio formed by the opening and closing angelic announcements in Lk 1 and 24 connects again Jesus’s kingly identity with his death and resurrection. The response of the eleven male disciples is unsurprising given the gender dynamics of the ancient world, in which women were not authorized witnesses. The disciples “did not believe them” (24:11), but Peter went, saw the empty tomb, and came home amazed (24:12). The encounter on the road to Emmaus touches on Lukan themes regarding Jesus and the identity of the Jesus-group. It is a moment of humor and irony when the forlorn pair asks Jesus if he is the only one in Jerusalem who does not know what has taken place! The narrative playfulness is indicative of the account’s joy. Luke’s insistence that Jesus can only be known by those to whom it is revealed by the Father, by Jesus, or by the Spirit (cf. 1:41; 10:21–22) is on full display as these friends of Jesus are “kept from recognizing him” (24:16). The Emmaus pair profess that they had hoped Jesus “was the one to redeem Israel” (24:21) but the three-days-ago crucifixion had crushed their hope. The text offers important affirmation of the pair’s ongoing identification with ethnic Israel. Though their hopes are crushed, they can still say that it was “our chief priests and leaders” who handed Jesus over (24:20). They have not opted out of Israelite identity even in the face of their bitter disappointment. Jesus’s fascinating response moves to the heart of Israelite covenantal identity: “‘Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?’ Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures” (24:25–27). One wishes that Luke would have unfolded Jesus’s exegesis of the law and the prophets. He does not. But there is an important inclusio here with Luke 1. There and here we learn that the story of Abraham’s God and descendants is also the story within which the narrative of Jesus is at home. The ancient world placed a high value on antiquity, and Jesus here ensures that the Emmaus pair understands that the Jesus-story is a fulfillment, not an innovation, that emerges from—and interprets—Israel’s covenantal past. It is supremely important that exegesis alone does not awaken these disciples to Jesus’s presence. After Jesus vanishes from the table, they discussed the way their hearts were “burning

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within” them (24:32), but it is only at the table—in the blessing, breaking, and sharing of bread—that they recognized Jesus (24:30–31). In their excited testimony to the eleven and their companions, the pair testifies that “he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread” (24:35). The rhythm of the verbs “take,” “bless,” “broke,” and “gave” connect backward to the Passover meal with Jesus (22:18–25) and forward to Acts 27:35. Whether or not Luke is reflecting early liturgical practice, it can certainly be said that the confluence of Christocentric reading of Israel’s scriptures and the breaking of bread in table fellowship was a crucial condition for recognizing the identity of Jesus. Jesus’s appearance before the eleven and their companions is as delightful and playfully ironic as the appearance to the Emmaus disciples. Jesus offers a greeting of peace to the terrified disciples (24:36). He tries to convince them of his materiality, offering his cross-scarred hands and feet to prove he is not a ghost (24:38–39). But in the end he must resort to eating a fish in their presence (24:41–43). Only then do they recognize—once more at the table—that this is the resurrected Lord Jesus. The order of Luke’s apocalyptic unveiling is reversed in this pericope. This time, Jesus eats first and then expounds the Scriptures of Israel: “‘These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.’ Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, and he said to them, ‘Thus it is written, that the Christ is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem’” (24:44–47). Once more, Jesus embeds his story inside God’s covenantal intention for Israel. Here, he connects his Christocentric reading of Israel’s scriptures to expansive incorporation of nonIsraelites. That incorporation does not abandon God’s covenantal affiliation with Israel. It is its fulfillment. In Jesus’s reading of the Israel’s scriptures, the covenantal people of God are called to participate in God’s intention toward all the nations. While the Spirit-empowered Zechariah and Simeon both anticipated that Jesus would be a light to the non-Israelites, this is the first time in Luke that we learn Jesus’s followers will proclaim forgiveness of sins to the ethnē. It is in precisely this wide story of God’s incorporative intent that we see why enemy love and radical generosity are imperative for the identity of the Jesus-group. The Jesus-group must be a people capable of loving beyond the boundaries of the ingroup. At the very moment Jesus’s followers are drawn into the incorporative intention of Israel’s God toward non-Israelites the “power from on high” (Luke 24:49) is named. Indeed, in Acts it will be the Spirit alone who can shape a community (and all its members) for the type of identity and practices necessary to live as a community of reconciled diversity. This is the first time in Luke that the Spirit is explicitly promised to Jesus’s followers. It is another way to restate the disciples’ participation in Jesus’s Spirit-formed identity. The gift of this power, drawing Jesus’s followers into the incorporative mission of God, is just the thing that Jesus’s “Father promised” (24:49). The final four verses of the Gospel form an apt conclusion to Luke’s focus on Jesus’s identity and, simultaneously, cry out for Luke’s second volume. The ascension of Jesus is a final clue to the exalted identity of Jesus. While Jesus had alluded to his glorious return over the course of his ministry, the ascension was not previously anticipated. As Jesus ascends, blessing his group, the group responds by worshipping Jesus (24:52). This is a remarkable statement. It is equally remarkable that the worship of Jesus thickens, rather than weakens, the connection of his 165

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followers to the temple: “[they] returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God” (24:52–53). So it is that the Gospel that began with exemplary Israelite faithfulness in the Jerusalem temple ends with exemplary Israelite faithfulness in the Jerusalem temple. While this inclusio is a fitting end to the Gospel, there is nothing quite yet “finished” about Luke’s story. The Gospel ends with openness fit for an unfinished narrative. Jesus is alive, but away—in the heavens. The community receives a commission to go to non-Israelites and a promise of heavenly power—but it is not yet actualized. Formally, Luke 24 and Acts 1 form an example of “chain link rhetoric,” a device by which two volumes are pulled into continuity (Longenecker, Rhetoric, 166–67). Indeed, there is much more to come, and the identity of this small and vulnerable group will—by the Spirit’s relentless work—continue to transform in ways that traverse all manner of intractable social barriers. The end result, we will learn in Acts, is profound interethnic reconciliation through the formation of a social identity that affirms ethnic particularity, yet chastens and transcends its hegemony. Only the Spirit can accomplish such a wonder.

References Alexander, Loveday. The Preface to Luke’s Gospel: Literary Convention and Social Context in Luke 1.1–4 and Acts 1.1. SNTS 78. Cambridge/New York: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Bauckham, Richard. Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006. Brewer, M. B. “The Psychology of Prejudice: Ingroup Love or Outgroup Hate?” Journal of Social Issues 55 (1999): 429–44. Burridge, Richard. What are the Gospels? A Comparison with Graeco-Roman Biography. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004. Cinnirella, Marco. “Exploring Temporal Aspects of Social Identity: The Concept of Possible Social Identities.” EJSP 28 (1998): 227–48. Cohen, Shaye J. D. The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties. Berkeley/Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1999. Dovidio, J. F., Samuel L. Gaertner, and Ana Validzic. “Intergroup Bias: Status, Differentiation, and a Common Ingroup Identity.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 75 (1998): 109–20. Esler, Philip. “Jesus and the Reduction of Intergroup Conflict: The Parable of the Good Samaritan in the Light of Social Identity Theory.” Biblical Interpretation: A Journal of Contemporary Approaches 8 (2000): 325–57. Gaertner, S. L., Dovidio, J .F., Rust, M. C., Nier, J. A., Banker, B. S., Ward, C. M., Mottola, G. R., and M. Houlette. “Reducing Intergroup Bias: Elements of Intergroup Cooperation.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 76 (1999): 388–402. Green, Joel. The Gospel of Luke. NICNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997. Jetten, Jolanda, Tom Postmes, and Russell Spears. “Intergroup Distinctiveness and Differentiation: A Meta-Analytic Integration.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 86 (2004): 862–79. Josephus. The Jewish War, Volume I. Loeb Classical Library 203. Boston: Harvard University Press, 1927. Longenecker, Bruce. Rhetoric at the Boundaries: The Art and Theology of New Testament Chain Link Transitions. Waco: Baylor University Press, 2005. Longenecker, Bruce. “The Story of the Samaritan and the Innkeeper (Luke 10:30–35): A Study in Character Rehabilitation.” Biblical Interpretation: A Journal of Contemporary Approaches 17 (2009): 422–47.

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Oakes, Penelope, S. Alexander Haslam, and John C. Turner. “The Role of Prototypicality in Group Influence and Cohesion: Contextual Variation in the Graded Structure of Social Categories.” Pages 75–92 in Social Identity: International Perspectives. Edited by Stephen Worchel, J. Francisco Morales, Dario Paez, and Jean-Claude Deschamps. London: Sage, 1998. Rothgerber, Hank. “External Intergroup Threat as an Antecedent to Perceptions of Ingroup and Outgroup Homogeneity.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 73 (1997): 1206–12. Rowe, C. Kavin. World Upside Down. Reading Acts in the Graeco-Roman Age. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009. Snodgrass, Klyne. Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008. Wenzel, Michael. “A Social Categorization Approach to Distributive Justice: Social Identity as the Link between Relevance of Inputs and Need for Justice.” British Journal of Social Psychology 40 (2001): 315–35.

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Chapter  5

John Warren Carter

Introduction Much is not known about the origins of John’s Gospel. We do not know who wrote it, nor do we know why it attracted the name “John.” Traditions from the late second and third century designate the Gospel “according to John” (P66; P75). Irenaeus, writing around 180 CE, links the Gospel to “John, a disciple of the Lord” (Haer 1.8.5; 3.1.1) and identifies this “John” with the unnamed disciple described as “the one whom Jesus loved” and who was “lying close to the breast/chest of ” Jesus (John 13:23). While the Gospel does not identify this “beloved disciple,” Irenaeus both names him and identifies him as the Gospel author. Irenaeus “authorizes” the Gospel by closely linking it to Jesus and a favored “beloved disciple.” In doing so, he tries to counter its interpretations by opponent groups. The Gospel, however, does not identify its author nor does it name a disciple “John.” It mentions “the sons of Zebedee” (21:2) but does not name them. When the Gospel refers to its writing, it identifies three anonymous parties: a writing disciple (21:24a), a “we” who attests his testimony (21:24b; compare 1:14; 3:11), and an “I” who adds a further comment (21:25). I elaborate the possibility of multiple authors and Gospel versions below. Nor do we know when the Gospel was written. If Rome’s traumatic destruction of Jerusalem and the temple is referenced in 11:48, the Gospel must have been written after 70 CE. A papyrus, dated to c. 135–150 CE, includes John 18:31–33, 37–38 (John Rylands Library P52). These dates provide a window for its possible composition around the late first century and early second century. Nor do we know where it was written. Traditionally, it has been located in Ephesus. There is no compelling evidence to secure this claim; others have suggested Alexandria or Judea. Here I assume that wherever it was written it was at least read by folks who negotiated daily life in the large and complex city of Ephesus, capital of the Roman province of Asia (today’s Selçuk in Turkey). With a lack of information, theories to fill the vacuum abound. Two areas of discussion have dominated recent scholarship. One area of investigation has suggested that the Gospel has gone through several editions and addressed audiences in a developing situation of conflict with a synagogue. Scholars have noticed aporias or discontinuities in the Gospel. The opening chapters include two numbered signs stories (2:11; 4:54) but the numbers disappear from subsequent miraculous signs. Does Jesus baptize— Yes (3:22) or No (4:2)? In ch. 5 Jesus is in Jerusalem and then suddenly at 6:1 he is “on the other

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side of the Sea of Galilee.” The scene involving the woman caught in adultery lacks manuscript support (7:53–8:13). At 14:31, Jesus seems to end his two-chapter speech to his disciples: “Rise, let us be on our way.” But he talks for three more chapters. The Gospel seems to end at 20:30–31, but then another chapter follows. And there are some theological inconsistencies. For example, signs produce faith (2:11) but faith without signs is better (20:29). Already judgment has taken place (3:18; 5:24) yet there is a future judgment (5:28–29). Some scholars explain these and other features as indicating the Gospel’s development or composition history across several decades, authors, changing circumstances, and developing understandings. One analysis sees the Gospel’s first version comprising accounts of Jesus’s miracles or signs as expressing his messianic identity. This claim provoked conflict with other members of the synagogue community. The conflict escalated, and led to expelling Jesusbelievers from the synagogue by means of a benediction against heretics (Birkat ha-Minim; 9:22; 12:42; 16:2). The second version emerges from and reflects these conflicts and expulsion. Central to it are elevated claims about Jesus as the one who has come from God, who is rejected but who manifests God’s judgment and is vindicated by God (Martyn). Some see a third version, written after the death of the author of version 2, which added extra material about Jesus’s significance (e.g., 6:51–58; 12:44–50; chs 15–17; Brown). Numerous such analyses have been worked out in great detail. As stimulating as these attempted reconstructions have been, there are historical, literary, and methodological problems. Historically, the proposed expulsion reconstruction privileges ch. 9 but some of the chapter’s details do not match the reconstruction: it ignores scenarios of cooperation in other chapters (e.g., ch. 11), the Birkat neither existed at the time nor targeted Jesus-believers, and studies of synagogues show them to be not isolated religious communities but societally involved communities negotiating the Roman imperial world, a societal reality ignored by most scholars (Carter, John, 22–36). Literary analyses have read the Gospel not as reflecting historical events but as constructing its own narrative world of plots, characters, settings, and points of view. It makes sense of the aporias as literary features in the story. Nor have any of these multiple reconstructed versions of the Gospel been found. Methodologically, the approach raises crucial questions about the relationship between a text and context. Does a text mirror external circumstances (as these arguments assume) or create its own world? How might interpreters move from one to the other without making convenient selections and omissions? A second area of investigation has focused on the relationship, if any, between John’s Gospel and the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke). John is significantly different. It lacks the parables, exorcisms, last supper, birth narrative, baptism, temptation, transfiguration, and Gethsemane scenes. Jesus travels back and forth to Jerusalem for at least three Passovers rather than one as in the Synoptics. There are different characters: Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman, the man-born-blind, Lazarus. Jesus speaks in lengthy monologues not short, pithy one-liners, uses many metaphors, and talks about himself (“I am the light, the good shepherd, the way, truth, life” etc.). His farewell speech to his disciples (chs 13–17) is unparalleled in the Synoptics. Yet there are also some common scenes: Jesus attacks the temple, calls disciples, feeds the crowd, walks on water, heals, teaches, enters Jerusalem, and is crucified and raised. He predicts 170

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a future return. Some have suggested that the author of John draws on one of the Synoptics, perhaps Mark. More common, though, is the view that the Gospels share common traditions, interpret them differently in different circumstances, and have their own unique materials.

Literary Structure The opening “poetic” Prologue announces central perspectives (1:1–18). Then follows Jesus’s activity in Galilee, Jerusalem, and Samaria (1:19–4:54). Chapters 5–12 continue that narrative but focus on increased conflict and opposition. Jesus’s public activity ends in ch. 12. Chapters 13–17 involve Jesus and his disciples, a farewell meal, and foot washing (ch. 13), instructions for life in Jesus’s absence and with the coming Paraclete/comforter/spirit, and Jesus’s prayer. Chapters 18–19 pick up from ch. 12 to narrate Jesus’s arrest and death. Chapters 20–21 narrate resurrection appearances.

Theological Themes Central to the Gospel is the claim that Jesus definitively reveals God. God has sent Jesus as God’s son or agent. To know Jesus is to know God (14:7). To see Jesus is to see God (14:9). Jesus has come from God/heaven to make known the divine life-giving purposes and exercise judgment on God’s behalf on the Rome-ruled world. To believe in Jesus as Christ and son or agent of God is to know “eternal life,” or “life of the age,” in which God’s purposes prevail in the present and the future. Believing creates a community of believers in Jesus. This community, along with Jesus, are set in opposition to another group identified as the Ioudaioi, “the Jews.” The term appears over seventy times, mostly but not always negatively. Various identifications for this group have been suggested: Jews and Judaism as a religious system comprising nonbelievers in Jesus; an ethnic group, often translated as “Judeans,” constituted by common ancestry, history, culture, homeland, and communal solidarity (Esler, “From”); a powerful and high-status group comprising “the leaders” or “the authorities,” allied with Rome, in ruling Galilee and Judea. Part of the difficulty is that the term has varying referents and valence in the Gospel which impacts its translation and meanings. And the frequent negative valence of the term reinforces in contemporary Christian congregations negative attitudes toward Jews. I will attend to its function in the subsequent discussion (Carter, Storyteller).

Social Identity Approach A critical method or theory informs the reading of a text. It draws attention to some matters even as it diverts attention from others. What does an SIA to John’s Gospel highlight? SIA, emerging in the 1970s and 1980s in the work of Henri Tajfel (Human Groups; Tajfel and Turner, “Social”) and his student John Turner (self-categorization theory, SCT), and developed 171

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subsequently by other scholars, focus on intergroup relations and intragroup dynamics (Esler, “An Outline”). These approaches ask questions such as: Why do people join groups, how do individuals become a group, and what consequences follow for the identity of individuals, for intergroup interactions, and for intragroup or ingroup practices and interactions? Key insights from this field of study will be useful for the following commentary. First, across a continuum of interpersonal to intergroup identities, group belonging alters the way people see themselves and treat others. A process of self-categorization moves individualist identities away from interpersonal patterns toward the intergroup patterns of a positive social or group identity. Even with minimal ingroup affiliation, group members favor ingroup members and create bias against, and competition and conflict with, outgroups. Belonging to a group and awareness of an outgroup trigger intergroup competition favoring the ingroup and discriminating against the outgroup. This social identity emphasizes similarities among ingroup members, distinctive group practices and perspectives, boundaries, and comparisons with and accentuated differentiation from or polarization with outgroups. It comprises cognitive (recognition of group belonging), evaluative (group benefits and enhanced self-esteem), and emotional (positive attitudes to other members and derogation of outgroups) dimensions. Commitment to shared beliefs is also an important feature. In the subsequent discussion, I highlight John’s Gospel favoring and defining the ingroup of Jesus’s believers against the hostile outgroup of the world (unbelievers; the Jerusalem-based, Rome-allied leaders and the Roman Empire and governor). Second, individuals categorize themselves and are categorized by others as members of social categories. A group forms through perceiving similarities with and belonging among ingroup members and differentiation from outsiders. Turner (Rediscovering) emphasized that a process of “depersonalization” or “self-stereotyping” takes place over time as people define their place in society by coming to see themselves as representing or cohering with and benefiting from group understandings, practices, behaviors, and members to which they are attracted and thereby differentiate a group from others. The social influence of other group members is important in shaping the thoughts and behaviors of group members to conform to group norms. These norms are the “attitudes and behavior that characterize a social group and differentiate it from other social groups” (Hogg and Reid, 7). Group members share these common perspectives and behaviors and a sense of what makes group members special and different. Social support and personal need satisfaction are crucial to this internalization of group identity. Three stages of self-categorization can be identified: identifying with a group; discovering ingroup norms from others; embracing those norms in their own behavior and attitudes (Hogg and Abrams, 172). Jesus’s monologues, for example (5:19–47; 12:44–50), contribute significantly to this selfcategorization. Third, crucial for group identity is comparison with and differentiation from other groups and securing positive, even superior, self and social esteem and high status at their expense. The Gospel constructs “the Jews” (a problematic and regrettable term often signifying Jerusalem-based, Romeallied figures of power and leadership) as the hostile opponents. It also constructs synagogues as hostile, rejecting places (9:22; 12:42) that will be violent and kill Jesus-believers (16:2). Fourth, group identity comprises norms, the various attitudes and practices that characterize the group and distinguish it from others. Norms can be both prescriptive (“we ought to do . . .”) and descriptive (“we do . . .”). A prototype is a construct that coalesces and represents these norms in manifesting the group’s distinctive identity. Some group members (the Samaritan woman, 172

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ch. 4; the man-born-blind, ch. 9) and especially Jesus function as prototypes in being perceived to align closely with and exemplify group norms and thereby influence other group members. Prototypes are also descriptive and prescriptive. Fifth, group beliefs are crucial for social identity (Bar-Tal). Beliefs comprise the shared convictions about the world and group members. They are prototypical of group identity. They define the nature of the group, differentiate insiders from outsiders, shape and judge consistent behaviors and norms. Beliefs embrace group norms to guide behavior, values (what is preferable), goals for a valued or desired future, and ideology (the group’s interrelated set of beliefs). Jesus’s teaching (for example, chs 13–17), along with conflicts with outgroups, provide opportunities to communicate group beliefs. Sixth, groups exist in the present with a past, sometimes a very lengthy one, as well as future possibilities and goals. Identities, ideas, and practices can be handed on to new members even across generations. Groups draw on the past to create identities, competing with other groups so as not to cede continuity with the past in shaping present reality. Groups thus define themselves by locating themselves as participants in a much bigger and ongoing narrative. Crucial to the Gospel’s construction of identity is locating Jesus “in the beginning” with God as the basis for his definitive revelation (1:1). Seventh, groups see their identity in positive light so they will reject or legitimize the group’s responsibility for harmful actions against outgroups. The notion of historical or collective victimization identifies one way of lessening guilt. A group employs its own history of victimization to highlight the outgroup’s provocation of and responsibility for the ingroup’s actions. So the Gospel constructs the rejecting and rejected outgroup as condemning itself for failing to receive the ingroup’s proclamation (3:18). Finally, significant work in SCT has investigated ways of reducing intergroup conflict. One proposed process has involved recategorization or forming a superordinate identity that does not deny group distinctives but locates them within an inclusive superordinate identity capable of maintaining difference. The Gospel’s elevation of commitment to Jesus comprises its superordinate identity. From these eight emphases, five aspects of social identity theory are particularly useful for the following analysis of John’s Gospel: (1) Ingroup-Outgroup Binary or Dualism: This fundamental division of “us” (believers) and “them” (everyone else) pervades the Gospel as a social and cosmic polarity. Since the Gospel originates with the ingroup, Social identity theory alerts us to significant ingroup favoritism, benefits, and privileging (divine sanction; special revelation) in the presentation of Jesus, disciples, and characters who become followers. Similarly, the Gospel exhibits hostility against the outgroup comprising nonbelievers and the Jerusalem-based, Romeallied leaders aligned with the devil. It constructs them in a stereotypically negative way as not understanding, hostile, and destined for destruction. (2) Deper​sonal​izato​n/Sel​f-Cat​egori​zatio​n/Rec​atego​rizat​ion: Social Identity theory attests a process of depersonalization when individuals join a group as they minimize personal identity and recategorize themselves in terms of characteristics of the ingroup identity. The narratives concerning the Samaritan woman (ch. 4) and the man-born-blind (ch. 9), for example, exhibit such processes. 173

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(3) Prototype: Some figures, like Jesus, represent group characteristics and norms in an exemplary demonstration of the group’s identity. Other figures become prototypes of the process of depersonalization as they align closely with and exemplify group norms (the Samaritan woman, ch. 4; the man-born-blind, ch. 9; Mary, ch. 20). Prototypes function to influence other group members in recognizing and embracing group norms and identity. (4) Superordinate Identity: Groups attempt to reconcile disparate subgroups, understandings, practices, and traditions by emphasizing fundamental values and common ground. So the Gospel elevates the role of Jesus and embraces and subordinates other figures such as John the Baptist (3:22–36), Moses (5:45–47), Abraham (8:39–59), and Isaiah (12:37–41) as witnesses to Jesus. (5) Collective Victimhood: This group mindset arises when the ingroup understands an outgroup to be a continuing source of harm to it. A group employs its own history of victimization to highlight the outgroup’s provocation of and responsibility for the ingroup’s actions against the outgroup. The notion of collective victimhood identifies one way of lessening guilt. The present threat is understood to draw on previous acts of suffering and is often understood as undeserved and unjust. In the Gospel, the past execution of Jesus, God’s agent and revealer, by the hateful rejecting world (the Jerusalem authorities and Roman governor) is understood to signify the outgroup’s continuing targeting of the ingroup to inflict harm on it in the present. Synagogues are particularly constructed as places of violence and committed to the killing of Jesus-believers (16:2). Much social identity work has researched actual group experiences. We do not have the opportunity to do field work on the community/ies for whom John was written or by which it was read in the late first century. Some previous SIA work on John has problematically read the Gospel’s textual constructions of identity as directly reflective of these social situations (Carter, “Social Identities”). Text and context are erroneously assumed to correlate with each other whereby the text is assumed to reflect and secure existing identities. But this easy equivalency and confirming function cannot be assumed. Texts and contexts can exist in multiple interactions including constructing a social identity that contests or subverts social realities and identity/ ies (Hakola). Such construction might address a context of competing group identities where identities are multiple and contested. In the discussion that follows, I focus on the identity that the Gospel constructs without claiming that it reflects existing group identities.

Prologue (1:1–18) The Gospel’s opening poetic narrative introduces beliefs that are central to the group identity that the narrative constructs. It presents Jesus as a prototype of ingroup identity. Reception of Jesus is central to group identity. He is the agent of and committed to God’s purposes, being with God in the beginning, originating from God, and being sent into the imperial world to reveal God’s life-giving purposes (1:1–2, 9–10, 14). His accomplishing of God’s purposes to save the world means Rome’s loss of power and identity since it will not come to believe in him (3:17–18). As the word, Jesus’s teaching is a key means of revealing and experiencing God and 174

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God’s life and light (1:4–5, 14, 18). His teaching is continuous with previous revelations such as that of Moses (1:17). He also bears witness to God’s purposes (1:14) in his actions in effecting somatic wholeness in healings, supplying food, raising the dead, and confronting Roman-Jerusalem power that puts him to death but with his resurrection cannot keep him dead. He is met with a divisive response. John bears witness on his behalf (1:6–8, 15). Those who believe his revelation receive his superior power to create a new identity and community as God’s children (1:12–13, 18). The Gospel elaborates this positive identity. For others, the response is negative and oppositional to Jesus in not recognizing or receiving him as the revealer of God (1:10–11). By the end of the Gospel, the alliance of the temple-based Jerusalem leaders and Pilate, and the Roman governor and representative of the Roman Empire exhibit the ultimate form of rejecting Jesus by crucifying him. The Gospel elaborates this negative response as ultimately one of violence in killing Jesus (5:16–18; 7:1; chs 18–19). Jesus’s action against the Jerusalem temple will be the death of him at the hands of its Jerusalem-based, Rome-allied leadership (2:17). Reflective of and continuing this same dynamic, the Gospel constructs synagogues also as places of violence toward Jesus-believers (16:2). By contrast, Jesus rejects violence as a strategy or practice for his followers (18:36). The Prologue constructs a binary world. The first-person plural language (“us/we”) constructs an ingroup of believers in Jesus, aligns group members with each other as those who received Jesus (1:12), and distinguishes them from a large outgroup marked by rejecting Jesus. Jesus’s existence “in the beginning” with God and involvement in creation (1:1–3) locates the group in an ancient cosmic narrative of God’s supreme power and sovereignty over the world (Gen 1:1). As God’s son, Jesus is the agent of God’s power and grace at work in the imperial world (1:16– 17). Group members come into being by this divine activity, born from and by God the Father (1:12–13). They are, spatially, the location of divine working in the world and so are a special and unique group (1:13). Their special identity comprises a household of children who belong to God as father. Commitment to Jesus establishes the group’s center and boundary. Members share a common perception, seeing and experiencing in Jesus the presence and power, grace and truth, of God at work in establishing the group (1:14–17). This belief affirms Jesus as the exclusive revealer of God and group members are established as the exclusive recipients of that revelation (1:18). The Prologue constructs these beliefs as the framework that attracts, establishes, and unites members and defines the group’s privileged identity. These beliefs centering on the exclusive role of Jesus differentiate this ingroup from any outgroup. Jesus is the key point of differentiation or polarization. The outgroup is vast and defined by its central value of rejecting Jesus. It is named as “the world” that did not know or “accept” Jesus (1:10). It will be shown to comprise the alliance of the Roman Empire and the Romeallied, Jerusalem-based leadership that executed him, along with “his own,” those in Israel, God’s covenant people, who did not accept him (1:11). In not accepting Jesus, “his own” are constructed as faithless to this identity. These outgroups are stripped of any knowledge or revelation of God by the totalizing claim that Jesus is the exclusive divine revealer (1:18). They are not born from or by God (1:12–13). These outgroups are vastly superior in power and numbers in inhabiting the expansive and powerful “world” of Rome’s empire. The ingroup is, then, a minority which enhances its special status as a privileged entity, superior to the outgroup/s in what matters, namely knowing God and the benefits of divine power and presence in their midst. 175

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The constructed binary is sharp. “We” are defined by characteristics such as life, light, knowing, accepting and receiving the revealer Jesus, being children of God, receiving abundant grace and truth, and revelation of and power from God. The outgroups, despite having the law, covenant identity, Moses, and various imperial claims of divine agents and knowledge, are constructed as lacking ingroup’s benefits. The binary is cosmic (God versus the devil) and socio-imperial (Jesus-believers versus nonbelievers, especially the Rome-allied Judean elite and synagogue opponents). The narrative will elaborate the contours of this group identity and privileged status deriving from divine action.

John’s Testimony to Jesus (1:19–34) The scene begins to people the outgroup as an alliance of powerful agents (priests, Levites, Pharisees, 1:19–24) based in Jerusalem and its temple who spy on and interrogate Jesus’s ally, John. The Prologue introduces John as sent from God to bear witness to Jesus (1:6–8, 15). This witness is elaborated in 1:19–34 with John under pressure from priests and Levites sent by the powerful, high-status, Rome-allied, Jerusalem-based leaders named as “the Jews” (Ioudaioi 1:19) and Pharisees (1:24). The leadership alliance unifies various groups into a homogenous outgroup opposed to Jesus (Hakola, 110). John declares he is not the Messiah but baptizes as a forerunner for Jesus. Their “outgroupness” is constructed not only in terms of homogeneity and hostility, but also, predictability, by their “not knowing” or recognizing Jesus (1:26b). They seem to mistake John for Jesus. Yet while the Prologue constructed the world as not receiving Jesus, the binary now appears not to be fixed since John testifies that Jesus’s mission is to “take away the sin of the world.” There is, then, the possibility for members of this powerful alliance to join the ingroup, abandon its hostility, and receive or submit to Jesus. John attests Jesus’s centrality as the one on whom God’s spirit has descended and who is God’s son or agent (1:29–34).

Jesus as Key to the Emerging Ingroup Identity (1:35–51) Now the narrative peoples the ingroup in relation to Jesus. Four short recognition scenes add two followers, one unnamed and one named Andrew (1:37–40), his brother Simon Peter (1:41–42), Philip (1:43–44), and Nathanael (1:45–51). The scenes attest dynamics of questing and finding (1:38, 41, 45), showing and recognizing (1:39, 41–42, 46–48, 50–51), following or dwelling with (1:38, 39, 43). Jesus is the key figure for the emerging ingroup identity, either moving toward or being approached and recognized by, followers. Encounter with Jesus, whose identity continues to expand (Lamb of God; Teacher; Messiah; Son of God; King of Israel; Son of Man), provides the common unifying point that differentiates the ingroup as special. The past of Israel’s law and the prophets is co-opted to witness to Jesus and set him in this larger cultural and chronological narrative. Hogg (187–88, 193) argues that one dynamic at work in joining a group are leaders who are prototypes of group norms and identity. They attract people who might “feel self-conceptually 176

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uncertain about things that matter” and reduce their subjective uncertainty. These close associates or “disciples” of Jesus function as prototypes through the narrative. Nathanael’s recognition scene provides an example of de-personalization and self-stereotyping involved in becoming a group member and cohering with group understandings (1:45–51). He abandons his initial derisive dismissal of Jesus’s origins from Nazareth. Willing to associate with another disciple and “come and see” (1:46), he discerns in Jesus’s declaration about Nathaniel’s character his unique revelatory ability that expresses his identity as one who comes from God. Nathaniel discerns and makes his own the group’s central confession that Jesus is God’s son or agent (1:18, 49) who represents God’s rule as King of Israel. This latter claim of Jesus as king adds a subversive edge to the group’s beliefs in contesting the imperial outgroup’s claim to rule the world. Jesus intensifies the contest by elaborating Nathanael’s confession with the term “Son of Man.” He thus defines himself not just as a revealer in evoking Jacob’s ladder (Gen 28) but especially as the figure who contestively represents God’s “dominion . . . and kingship over all people” (Dan 7:14). This claim to rule over all differentiates Jesus from his followers but aligns them as his subjects or followers in a world ruled by Roman power. Hogg (194) notes that processes of social attraction and prototypical leaders can create intragroup relationships of unequal status that “widen the gulf between leaders and followers.”

The First Sign: Wedding at Cana (2:1–12) This scene further contributes to group identity by manifesting Jesus’s glory, the power and presence of God at work in Jesus to whom the group is committed. And it displays the eschatological benefits in which ingroup members participate. The scene unfolds as a typical miracle story. At a wedding in the village of Cana in Galilee, Jesus is present with his mother and disciples (2:1–2). The need emerges in vv. 3–5: the wine runs out and Jesus’s mother expects Jesus to do something about it. Verses 6–8 narrate the miracle as Jesus commands the water jars to be filled with water which turns into wine. Verses 9–10 confirm the miracle, comprising not only abundant quantity, but also superior quality. The miracle is declared to be Jesus’s first belief-inducing sign. The water jars are described as being used for the rites of purification of the Jews (2:6). The latter term is descriptive here rather than pejorative. The miracle, or better, sign, occurs in the midst of and in continuity with this Jewish rite and family wedding. The narrative employs various Hebrew Bible traditions and the next scene occurs at the time when “the Passover of the Jews” approaches. The wedding scene emphasizes the revelation of the superior quality and abundance of the wine. What is their significance? The wedding signifies the completion and establishment of God’s purposes on earth (Rev 19–22). Most important, abundant wine is a feature of the full establishment of God’s purposes (Joel 3:18; Amos 9:13). In Isa 25:6–10a, abundant wine features in the envisioned feast of abundant food for all people when God’s reign is established, death is ended, and tears and disgrace removed. These traditions from Israel’s sacred writings are evoked to elaborate and claim ingroup benefits revealed to Jesus-believers in Jesus’s sign. 177

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The first indication of this eschatological focus and of Jesus’s role as the agent of an eschatological revelation is the initial temporal marker, “on the third day” (2:1). This traditional marker anticipates the eschatological event of Jesus’s resurrection. Also anticipating his resurrection is the reference in v. 4 to Jesus’s hour which designates his death, resurrection, and ascension (13:1). Jesus makes known in the present life-of-the-age to come. As members of the ingroup, disciples are beneficiaries in experiencing this “age-ly” life. Jesus’s sign differentiates the ingroup from the outgroups by emphasizing the former’s higher status as participants in his eschatological gifts. Since the sign is performed publicly, it offers outsiders an opportunity to believe in Jesus and join the ingroup. Or, at least, it gives the illusion of choice since divine action accounts for ingroup members (1:12).

Condemning the Jerusalem Temple (2:13–25) The chapter’s second scene dramatically differentiates the ingroup from the disparaged outgroup with a rapid escalation in conflict. It foregrounds Jesus and heightens the bias against the templebased, Rome-allied powerful outgroup which Jesus condemns. Jesus attacks the temple, the center of his opponents’ power as rulers of Judea and with influence in Galilee (1:19). Rome appointed the chief priests who presided over the temple and ruled Judea in alliance with the Roman governor. The scene’s bias against these opponents is expressed in constructing them as greedy, concerned with the temple’s commerce, and violent. They are presented as neither honoring God nor receiving God’s agent, Jesus, and the revelation and life he manifests. Jesus challenges the temple’s authority and their power, and denounces and condemns them. They will seek to kill him. Verses 14–16 present business-as-usual in the temple for a festival. The temple’s commerce was necessary in making offerings available to pilgrim-worshippers. Jesus’s dramatic action in expelling people from the “the temple-turned-market-place,” pouring out money collected for sacrifices and currency conversion, and overturning tables counters their authority and momentarily shuts down the temple. His actions are not aimed at correcting abuses. His words echo Zech 14:21’s eschatological vision of the establishment of God’s reign when “there will no longer be traders in the house of the Lord of hosts on that day.” There is no place for the outgroup of Rome-allied, Jerusalem power elites on that day. Condemnation is their destiny. The ingroup of disciples speaks as one in recognizing that Jesus’s condemnation of the Jerusalem elite will bring deathly retaliation (2:17). His act will “consume” him (Ps 69:10). They disparage the outgroup of Jerusalem leaders in attributing violent revenge to them. The charge that they will kill Jesus escalates ingroup/outgroup interactions. The temple-based, Rome-allied, Jerusalem leaders, now identified with the pejorative term “the Jews,” reassert authority in demanding a sign from Jesus to establish the source of his authority to disrupt temple practice (2:18). His response is to confuse them verbally, emphasizing their stupidity and failure to understand his identity. He speaks of destroying the temple and rebuilding it in three days. They misunderstand and respond on a literal level by referencing Herod’s forty-six year rebuilding of the temple. The narrative clarifies by naming his resurrection and, assuming the temple’s destruction in 70 CE, presents him as the temple where God’s power 178

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and presence are encountered. The scene displaces and condemns the outgroup of the temple authorities. They have no future. The perspective of the scene is evident in the last two verses (2:21–22). It assumes Jesus’s resurrection and assumes the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple in 70CE. In this context, the verses continue to construct Jesus as the temple, the place of atonement for sin, the continuance of Israel’s narrative, the encounter with and revelation of God. It constructs the temple’s destruction as an act of divine judgment on its leaders, Jesus’s opponents. The divine condemnation signifies the outgroup lacks divine favor and future. Jesus’s unspecified signs attract believers to the ingroup, but Jesus’s special insight means he remains unconvinced of their genuine commitment (2:23–25). In other words, he suspects their interpersonal identity prevails over any new social identity focused on Jesus’s origin, mission, and identity. Jesus’s response categorizes these members as a subtype within the ingroup, deficient in understanding and commitment. Some diversity in levels of commitment and identity exist in the ingroup, undermining to some extent the tightly drawn textual polarity of ingroup and outgroup. Nicodemus will further trouble the polarity.

Jesus and Nicodemus (3:1–21) Nicodemus appears in three scenes (7:45–52; 19:38–42). Often he is interpreted as a negative figure, representative of the outgroup, laughable in his failure to understand Jesus. He is identified as an outgroup member, a Pharisee, operative in the dark of night, reliant on Jesus’s signs, and noncomprehending and ignorant in his questions to Jesus. Jesus responds to Nicodemus harshly with confusing doublespeak and then with a rebuke to his ignorance (3:3– 10). As Hakola (138–43) observes, Jesus treats Nicodemus not as an inquiring individual but as a depersonalized representative of the hostile and rejecting outgroup of “the Jews.” Typical of intergroup behavior, Jesus attributes to him the general characteristics of this outgroup and discriminates against him. Yet Nicodemus is not completely representative of the outgroup. He exhibits positive behaviors that reflect those of Jesus’s followers. He is, for example, impressed by Jesus’s signs just as others believe Jesus because of signs: Nathanael (1:47–48); disciples (2:11); and the blind man (9:13– 34). Nicodemus initiates approach to Jesus, as do several disciples in 1:35–51. He recognizes Jesus comes from God and that God is at work in him (3:2)—central beliefs for the ingroup. Hakola recognizes the ambiguity in the construction of Nicodemus. To explain its function, he appeals to social identity work on deviant group members, particularly the “black sheep effect.” This work recognizes that an outgroup member might behave contrary to the norms of the outgroup and can be evaluated quite positively. From an ingroup perspective, the friendly outgroup member is welcomed because outgroup deviants “undermine the legitimacy of the outgroup” (Hakola, 139–40) and point to the greater attractiveness of the ingroup. While Nicodemus does not become a believer in this scene, Hakola (140–43) speculates that the ambiguity in the construction of his character functions to nuance the strict dualism and group stereotyping that the narrative has constructed. It recognizes that social reality is more complex. Subtyping of deviants recategorizes an individual who does not fit the stereotype of the outgroup 179

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member and suggests some flexibility in the polarity. This subtype introduces some departure from the stereotype even as it maintains the stereotype. Hakola takes a further—and somewhat controversial—step in arguing that this deviant subtyping reflects a challenge for John’s community from their everyday lives. Shaped by a strict binary, they encountered groups and individuals in daily life who responded to the Johannine group not with the stereotypical and expected hostility but with some interest. The ambiguous characterization of Nicodemus allows the community to negotiate this inconsistency by accommodating such deviants without abandoning the binary that was fundamental to their group identity. Moving from textual constructions to “the world behind the text” is always difficult. Hakola may be correct. But other possibilities exist. Perhaps textually, Nicodemus’s ambiguity alerts readers to the recognition that some among the outgroup are receptive to Jesus’s word, just as they themselves were. Or perhaps the characterization introduces its own ambiguity into the narrative even as much of the section underscores the stereotypical features of the ingroup and outgroup binary. The ingroup originates from God (3:3–8) just as Jesus is the only revealer who has come from God (3:12–13), believers know the benefit of eternal life and a condemnation-free status (3:15–18), Jesus originates from God to save the world (3:15–18). Believers are to do God-inspired deeds, a first reference to the ingroup’s praxis (3:21). Jesus is constructed as the ingroup prototype, a leader who influences the group’s agenda and identity, as well as attracting new members (Hogg). Likewise stereotypical characteristics of the outgroup are affirmed: its vast size comprising the whole world, its fundamental nature of rejecting God’s love, saving effort, and agent Jesus— which means it is under God’s condemnation—it prefers darkness and hates the light that Jesus brings (1:4–5), and performs evil deeds.

John the Baptizer (3:22–26) The strong assertions of a monolithic ingroup identity along with the ambiguity introduced by Nicodemus raise the question of the contribution of diversity of identities to the constructions of the ingroup. Some Social identity theory recognizes the existence of multiple and even contested identities within the ingroup where identities are comparative, malleable, and shifting, and that a process of consensualization marks group identity formation. Studies also show that conflict is reduced when diversity is maintained within a larger superordinate identity. That is not, though, the approach this scene takes. This scene disposes of a possible competitor in subordinating John to Jesus, thereby strengthening a monolithic ingroup identity focused on Jesus. Jesus and John are presented in the simultaneous activity of baptism. Both are powerful, hegemonic males exercising dominance over others in collecting followers. Is John in competition with Jesus or a witness to him as commissioned by God (1:6–9)? John’s disciples raise the question of competition that “all are going” to Jesus and not John (3:26). John, however, is constructed as faithful to his assigned script of being a witness and declines competition. He affirms Jesus’s identity as “given from heaven,” that John is not the Messiah, but 180

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the Messiah’s forerunner, who must decrease while the Messiah increases. John submits himself and testifies to Jesus as the dominant, God-sanctioned male. John is subordinated to and nested within the ingroup identity centered on Jesus. Accordingly, his final appearance in the Gospel bears witness to core ingroup beliefs: Jesus’s origin from God, the authority and truth of his revelation, his identity as God’s beloved agent, and the benefits believers gain in already receiving eternal life and the Spirit (3:31–36). Similarly he underscores two central characteristics of the outgroup: they reject Jesus’s revelation (3:32) and they are under God’s condemning wrath (3:36).

The Samaritan Woman (4:1–42) The chapter begins by acknowledging competition and rivalry among ingroup and outgroups, typical of ingroup identity as well as of native fracturing that often marks pressured imperialized contexts. Jesus heads to Galilee (4:3–5) via Samaria and rests at Sychar where he encounters an unnamed woman. In the resulting exchange, three dimensions of his divinely sanctioned revelatory work that benefits his ingroup emerge: he makes available eternal life (4:14); he recognizes worship not restricted to any place and thus discredits both the outgroup’s sacred site of Jerusalem and the mountain as sacred sites (4:22–24); and he is identified as the exclusive and totalizing “savior of the world” and so available to benefit people from any location and ethnicity (4:42). Throughout, Jesus appears as an imperializing figure intent on securing ingroup position by asserting power over the world under Roman rule, aiming for Galilee yet taking opportunity in Samaria. He declares the colonized woman’s people to be ignorant and inferior (4:22) and disqualifies Samaritan traditions, religious experiences, and practices concerning worship as illegitimate while asserting his own superiority and totalizing control, mystified by means of special revelation (4:23–26; Dube). The woman is presented as a prototype of the process of joining the ingroup. The meeting occurs at a well at Sychar (4:4–7a). She and Jesus converse about water, Jesus with metaphor and the woman at a noncomprehending literal level (4:7b–15). Jesus’s language functions as a mystifying and concealing barrier; it is doublespeak that is comprehensible to ingroup members while the literal level is available to, but excluding of, outsiders. The breakthrough comes, as with Nathanael in 1:47–48, not with mouthing ingroup benefits or affirmations but with Jesus’s special revelation of knowledge about the woman’s personal life (4:16–18, 39). From this revelation, the woman progressively gains understanding about Jesus, recognizing him first as a prophet (4:19) and then, after his statements about worship, as the Messiah, a central ingroup affirmation (4:25– 26, 29). The woman-turned-missionary then bears efficacious witness to other city inhabitants (4:39). From her testimony and Jesus’s words, they believe in Jesus. Their ingroup status is affirmed in language of his “staying” or “abiding” with them, language used in 1:38–39 for male disciples and that will be central in ch. 15 for the relationship of Jesus and believers. They confess him as “the Savior of the World,” a new confession for Jesus that recognizes his universal, transnational identity (4:42). She is a prototype for joining the ingroup. The prototype includes not just the woman’s personal process but also contours of the ingroup. One dimension is the inclusion or embrace of territory beyond Judea. Another dimension is the 181

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inclusion of ethnic diversity, the Samaritans (4:7) who join with Jews from whom salvation comes (4:22). Those with whom there has been separation are now included in a transnational group. A further dimension is the embrace of female gender. After scenes involving men who become followers (1:35–51), this is the first scene explicitly to involve a woman in the process of joining the ingroup that comprises men and women. Cultural traditions, represented by the “astonished” male disciples, indicate this public encounter of a male and female is not usual (4:27). Another dimension involves the inclusion of a person with different religious traditions (4:20–24). Social identity work has indicated that conflict between groups can be reduced by coalescing groups in a superordinate identity (Hornsey and Hogg). This superordinate identity does not discount or seek to eliminate group differences but maintains them. The superordinate identity recognizes differences but reduces competition and conflict by embracing difference within a larger superordinate identity. Such an identity emerges in this scene. While this scene embraces differences of territory, ethnicity, gender, and religion, they are not affirmed as equal and viable elements in the group identity. They are subordinated to Jesus as the exclusive and universal revealer, the only anointed one by and from God, and the one and only savior of the world. That is, the ingroup superordinate identity is imperial and imperializing in seeking to subordinate and contain land, ethnic groups, male and female, and different religious traditions to the one revealer and supreme, divinely sanctioned agent of God, Jesus. This central ingroup message embraces these elements in privileging the group to the exclusion and invalidating of all other options.

Action in Jerusalem and a Sign in Capernaum (4:43–54) With heightened ingroup identity comes a more explicit indicator of conflict with unspecified outgroups. His “own country” withholds honor from Jesus the prophet. His own country must refer to Judea where has encountered some opposition (2:23–25; 4:1–3). Verses 43–45 confirm the group’s imperializing mission with a generalized statement that “the Galileans welcomed him.” One such Galilean is a royal official from Capernaum who seeks Jesus’s healing for his son. It is not clear whether he is a Galilean or a Gentile, an official of Rome-appointed Herod or a representative from Rome. Either way, as a “royal,” he is aligned with the Rome-ruled world and outgroup. Jesus—in Cana—heals the boy without traveling to Capernaum (4:47–50). Verses 51–54 attest this second sign. Healing is one of the ingroup benefits that Jesus bestows. This scene is both much shorter than that involving the Samaritan woman and quite different or individualistic in its pathway to embracing ingroup identity. The official hears of Jesus’s presence in Galilee and responds with a sustained and desperate appeal to him to heal his son (4:47–49). What he hears about Jesus is not elaborated. The Gospel has not narrated any previous healings. However, the mysterious reference to “all [Jesus] had done in Jerusalem” (4:45), his otherwise strange rebuke to people in general (the “you” is plural) for believing because of signs (4:48), and the healing in Jerusalem that follows in ch. 5 suggest the possibility. The official is not deterred by Jesus’s response; he appeals again, believes Jesus’s healing word, and obeys Jesus’s command to go on his way (4:47–50). On hearing that his son lives, he “believed, along with his household.” 182

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This sequence suggests a process of depersonalization or self-stereotyping in recognizing and committing to ingroup norms of behavior and belief. The verb “believed” lacks an object but it suggests progress from believing Jesus’s specific healing word (4:50) to believing in Jesus as the one who gives life (4:53). He affirms the ingroup’s central identity of commitment to Jesus and the group’s superior benefit of receiving life, even while the scene counters a different group identity based on signs.

The Workings of Jesus: A Key to Ingroup Status and Identity (5:1–46) Chapters 5–12 mark increasing conflict between Jesus’s ingroup and outgroups with increasing references to arresting and killing Jesus. In ch. 5, conflict is sparked by Jesus’s healing of a disabled man at the Bethzatha pool in Jerusalem on the Sabbath (5:1–9). The conflict between Jesus and the Jewish authorities begins as a dispute over praxis. Both sides honor the Sabbath; the question is how to do so (5:10– 16). Jesus’s practice of healing benefits people’s lives and repairs the damage that life in the Roman Empire causes with food insecurity, unhygienic living conditions, pervasive diseases, and numerous stressors especially among non-elites facing daily challenges (Toner; Garnsey). By contrast, the outgroup opponents—the Jews/Ioudaioi (5:10, 16; societal leaders)—are constructed negatively. They are not given a positive program. They oppose Jesus whose action improves the physical lives of people and so they reinforce the damaging status quo. They are presented as violent in trying to kill Jesus (5:16–18). Their construction sets up an intergroup social comparison that renders them heartless, cruel, and life-threatening. At v. 17, the conflict over Sabbath practice becomes a conflict over authority with Jesus’s statement, “My Father is still working and I also am working.” The notion that God worked on the Sabbath in giving and withholding life (births, deaths) was affirmed by others (Philo, Cher 86–90). The opponents, however, interpret Jesus’s alignment of himself with God as a false statement. They do not believe Jesus is the agent or son of God at work in healing the imperial world. Rather, falsely, he “makes himself equal to God” (5:18). They consider this claim to be such a dishonorable breach of Jewish monotheistic belief that it merits killing him. This affirmation of monotheism was a fundamental belief that, along with circumcision, Sabbath observance, avoidance of idols, and food purity practices defined distinctive Jewish identity in a world marked by polytheistic practices and understandings. They consider Jesus to have so violated this central identity marker that exclusion from their people by killing him should follow. The rest of the chapter elaborates the subordination of the Son to God the Father, thereby constructing Jesus as God’s agent and maintaining the monotheistic framework. He declares himself to be, at God’s behest, the agent of God’s judgment and of raising the dead (5:19–30). The ingroup committed to Jesus benefits from these actions because they honor the Son. They escape judgment and have passed from death to life-of-the-age in the presence of God. Verses 31–47 parade witnesses that attest Jesus as the exclusive agent and revealer of God whom “the Father has given.” They attest “the Father has sent me.” First is John the Baptist (5:32–35),

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then Jesus appeals to his works, defining them as the doing of God’s works (5:36). God witnesses to Jesus (5:37–38), as do the scriptures (5:39–40). Throughout, the ruling authorities are stereotyped as rejecting these witnesses, a charge that comes to the fore in nearly every verse of the final section, 5:41–46. Jesus charges the rulers (the outgroup world) with not accepting him as sent from God and invokes another witness against them, their key figure Moses whom Jesus co-opts from the tradition and constructs as witnessing to Jesus. Jesus announces judgment against them, the judgment entrusted to him from God thereby differentiating the outgroup (5:22). In summoning God, the scriptures, Moses, and the Baptist, the Gospel competes with the rulers to claim Israel’s past for itself. It defines the ingroup by redeploying this history and characters as a witness to Jesus, making it the history of the ingroup, and thereby locating the group in this tradition. It turns the past back on the rulers to demonize them as deviants in rejecting God’s agent and, in turn, as rejected by God. The rulers have had no voice, direct or reported, since 5:16–18. Jesus’s monologue not only silences them, but disqualifies them from the divine workings because they reject him as God’s agent. The division of the ingroup and outgroup continues to be centered on acceptance or rejection of Jesus which signifies acceptance or alienation from God. The ingroup’s special and superior status and identity are based in its alignment with, and not exclusion from, the divine workings revealed by Jesus.

Jesus’s Affirmations and Identity as Bread—Identity Dissonance (6:1–71) Like the miracle/sign at Cana in 2:1–11, Jesus again provides abundant material resources, this time for hungry people (6:1–15). He multiplies five barley loaves and two fish into enough food to satisfy some five thousand people, with much surplus food. The significance of this provision of abundant food enacts and anticipates the eschatological or end-time expectation of abundant fertility that marks the life-of-the-age (Isa 25:6–10a; 4 Ezra 7:112–15; 2 Bar 29:5; Carter, John, 204–34). This expectation creates a contrast with and critique of the present imperially controlled world in which food insecurity for many was a common experience (Garnsey). With healings and material provisions, Jesus benefits both the ingroup and crowds by meeting current somatic and physical needs. The scene reveals both his present concern and eschatological manifestation to his ingroup represented by the pragmatic and nay-saying Philip (6:5–7) and the equally non-expectant Andrew (6:8–9). The scene does not, however, indicate if they receive the revelation. It does, though, concentrate on the responses of the benefited crowd. On one hand, they recognize Jesus to be “the prophet” (6:14) which, as its use by the Samaritan woman and blind man indicate (4:19; 9:17), is a step toward understanding Jesus’s identity and mission. But on the other hand, the narrative has cast doubts on insight arising from signs (2:23–25; 4:48). Will they continue in the self-categorization process of depersonalization and self-stereotyping toward ingroup identity and affirm Jesus’s identity as the agent from and revealer of God? Verse 15 suggests, however, a negative response. Jesus displays special knowledge again in knowing they will force him to be king. His identity as king is affirmed by confession (1:49) and

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later by Jesus himself in declaring that his kingship is from God. It is not bestowed by people from the world, the domain of his opponents and the Romans (18:36–38). He does God’s will (4:34). After his display of power over the loaves and fish, Jesus displays power over the sea for the benefit of his disciples in a boat (6:16–21). The act is a theophany as Jesus employs the divine name (Isa 43:25) and common reassurance (Gen 15:1) to manifest divine presence. In walking on the water, he echoes God’s action of walking on water (Job 9:8; Pss 107:23–32) that expresses God’s dominion over the sea (Gen 1:9–10) and contests imperial claims that the emperor is lord of earth and sea (Augustus, Res Gestae 3, 13; Vespasian, Josephus, B.J. 3.401–02; Domitian, Philostratus Apollonius 7.3). The ingroup of disciples witnesses the revelation of God’s presence in this assertion of God’s rule. They benefit from his reassurance in the context of fear, his rescue in threatening circumstances, and his presence that ensures their safe passage to land. The scene expresses the experience of Jesus’s assurance and care for the privileged group. The rest of the chapter comprises a long dialogue, catechetical in its question-and-answer format, involving Jesus and the crowds (6:25–40), “the Jews” (6:41–59), and his disciples (6:60–71). The language, especially concerning bread, pinballs from the literal to the metaphorical, to Moses’s feeding of the wilderness generation and the law, to Jesus’s feeding of the five thousand, to Jesus’s identity, and to the Christian/ingroup Eucharist. Throughout, the discourse catalogues key features of the ingroup’s identity even as it reinforces the stereotypes of the misunderstanding crowds and Jews to emphasize boundaries and differentiation. Surprisingly, after such dichotomous discourse that reinforces the ingroup-outgroup polarities, the last section involving disciples shows ingroup identity and loyalty to be fragile and failing (6:60–71). The crowd raises the central question for discerning Jesus’s identity—that of Jesus’s origin (6:25). The question provides an opportunity to produce a summarizing catalogue of Jesus’s identity which the ingroup affirms. Jesus declares his origin as sent from God, his identity as bread from heaven, his mission to do God’s will, his task to give life to those whom God gives or draws to him, his continuity with but superiority to Moses whose bread (manna) brought death not life, and Jesus’s impact of dividing those who believe or entrust themselves to him as revealer of God from those who do not believe. To the former, the ingroup, he gives the benefits of lifeof-the-age and resurrection. Predictably, “the [non-believing] Jews/leaders” misunderstand his origin in terms of his earthly, not heavenly, father (6:41–42). This misunderstanding gives Jesus further opportunity to repeat distinctive ingroup identity features and characteristics of his prototypical identity while discrediting “the Jews”’ commitment to Moses (6:43–51). Ingroup members are special in being divinely determined and sanctioned because they are drawn by God to Jesus as God’s revealer whom God sends from heaven (6:37, 39, 44). Outgroups are not divinely favored or determined. To those who believe Jesus as God’s only revealer, Jesus gives bread superior to that of Moses because those who eat Jesus’s bread or flesh (believe Jesus) do not die but participate in life-of-the-age and the resurrection. Those committed to Moses and his revelation of the law die. Failure to believe Jesus means oblivion. Again the outgroup exhibits its key characteristic of failing to understand by pursuing a literal, cannibalistic understanding (6:52). Jesus repeats the same core affirmations (6:53–59) and again claims superiority to Moses (6:58). As a literary strategy, the repetitions in ch. 6 function to reinforce ingroup commitments, distinctives, and benefits, while differentiating it from and securing boundaries against the discredited outgroup. The use of several repetitions suggests significant “static” or threat that must be overcome in fixing boundaries. 185

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The respondents, this time, are members of the ingroup. But while Jesus’s rhetoric constructs a rigid division, it is not evident in the response where the division appears wobbly, porous, and blurred. Some ingroup members become outgroup members in complaining about Jesus’s teaching (6:61 as do “the Jews” in 6:41, 43), not believing (6:64), betraying (Judas, 6:64, 71), and abandoning Jesus (6:66). They abandon the process of depersonalization or self-stereotyping or conformity to group norms. Other ingroup members remain with Jesus, receive his benefits, confess Jesus’s identity as revealer of God, and hear Jesus’s words of their special identity as ones chosen by him (6:68–69). Ingroup identity and membership are not solid and settled.

Conflicts Concerning Jesus’s Identity and Mission (7:1–10) Chapter 7’s subscenes feature questions about Jesus’s identity and mission, narrate divisions in the crowds concerning these issues and interpretations of Jewish traditions, and intensify the Jerusalem authorities’ conflict with and opposition to Jesus. Spatially, it is located in Jerusalem, the center of the authorities’ power (1:19). Temporally, the pilgrimage and harvest festival of Tabernacles or Booths (Sukkoth) recalling the people’s wanderings in the wilderness provides the occasion. Jesus does not attack the festival, locating himself in this larger cultural narrative to reinterpret its use of water and establish a new and exclusive reality. Initially Jesus refuses to leave Galilee for Jerusalem citing the animosity of the outgroups comprising “the Jews,” the Jerusalem leaders, who seek to kill him, and the “world” who hates him (7:1–9). The narrator has constructed the outgroup as murderous (5:18) and non-understanding (6:25–59). Both characteristics feature in ch. 7; the outgroup is violent and destructive (7:19–20, 25). The world denotes the rejecting arena of Roman and Judean power (1:10). Jesus’s brothers (who do not believe in him) exhort him to go to Jerusalem to reveal himself to “the world.” Jesus refuses, attributing the world’s hatred of him to his exposing its evil works (7:7–9). This opening scene sets up deadly antagonism and opposition. Jesus, however, goes secretly to Jerusalem (7:10). Why he changes his mind—whether guile, distancing from his nonbelieving brothers, or self-protection—is not explained. The menacing authorities look for him, while the crowds debate whether he is good or deceptive. “The Jews” continue to be constructed as non-understanding and ask about the origins of Jesus’s unspecified teaching. Jesus affirms the basic ingroup characteristic of origin from God (7:16–17). More controversy follows as Jesus attacks the crowds for not keeping Moses’s law and for trying to kill him (7:19–24). Their response is seriously at odds with ingroup affirmations in demonizing him and aligning him with the devil, not God (7:20). He contrasts their support for following Moses’s law and circumcising on the Sabbath while rejecting Jesus’s life-giving work of healing (5:1–18). Jesus evokes this cultural past of Moses’s law both to associate himself with it and to claim a more life-giving practice of it. More debate about his identity (the Messiah?) and origin occurs among Jerusalem’s residents (7:25–31). Jesus attacks their claim to know his origin, declaring that they do not know God whom Jesus knows because God sent him (7:28–29). This claim contests the outgroup’s role in managing the temple to secure access to and revelation of God. It colonizes exclusive knowledge 186

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of God, seeks to remove any competition with the outgroup over access to God, and invalidates the outgroups’ traditions, experiences, and festival as sources of knowledge of God which reside exclusively in him. In response, some want to invalidate him by employing the classic outgroup action of violence in killing him (5:18). But the recurrent reference to his “hour” (7:6, 30) signifies divine protection and so provides further sanctioning for the “rightness” of his claims in defining the unbelievers as “other.” Division occurs as “many in the crowd believed,” but the link of their believing with signs suggests inadequacy (7:31; 2:11 4:48; 20:29). Pharisees and chief priests (temple-based, Rome-allied, sociopolitical, and religious leaders in the homogenous outgroup) authorize Jesus’s arrest but their failure to accomplish their goal ironically highlights their impotency and points to God’s protection of Jesus’s identity as God’s agent (7:32–36). They continue to play the role of the non-understanding and confused outgroup. Jesus speaks in veiled ingroup code about his going where they cannot find him. His destination is his Father God (8:14; 13:3), but they speculate about his going to the Greek-speaking world. Ironically they may be correct in anticipating the future mission activities of his followers. But not only is that not their meaning; his declaration that they cannot go where he is going disqualifies them from any present or future encounter with God and recalls their condemnation (5:29). He is the exclusive revealer, determined by his past of being “with” God in the beginning, and he is the one who determines the future. As the festival ends, Jesus reinterprets an aspect of the ritual that anticipates an ingroup benefit (7:37–39). During Tabernacles a priest poured fresh water around the altar as a libation to God. Just as Jesus had turned to the past to draw on and reinterpret the purification water in 2:1–11 and Moses’s manna in 6:25–59 to construct his unrivalled significance for the present, so he reinterprets this water. The water in abundance—rivers—denotes the Spirit’s presence with his believers and the new life that results after his death, resurrection, and ascension (7:37–39; 1:34; 20:22). He will elaborate this gift in chs 14–16. In claiming that “as yet there was no Spirit” (7:39), the text does not deny the Spirit’s work prior to Jesus’s appearance. Rather, the claim is that the Spirit is not known among Jesus-believers until his death, resurrection, and ascension (chs 14–16). But there is another colonizing claim. The Spirit’s work hereafter is subject to Jesus’s control and is known in his believing ingroup. By claiming control of the Spirit, as with knowledge of God, the text outbids the outgroup of the Jerusalem temple authorities, besting them in the competition to establish continuity with the past, dominate the present, and participate in the future divine purposes. Again his claim is met with divided responses from the crowd and speculation about his identity and origin (7:40–44). And again those who want to arrest him are unsuccessful. The final scene returns to v. 32’s ineffective efforts by the homogenized Jerusalem authorities to arrest Jesus (7:45–52; chief priests, Pharisees, temple police). Ingroups commonly homogenize opposition groups (Hakola, 110). The police defend their inaction by appealing to Jesus’s rhetoric (also 7:15). The Pharisees scorn both the police and the crowd for being deceived by Jesus, not knowing the law and being cursed. But Nicodemus (3:1–15) reappears as “one of them” to instruct them that the law requires a hearing before condemnation (7:50–51)! The Pharisees again respond with scorn and claim superior knowledge that a Galilean origin is the determinative issue for deciding Jesus’s identity. They of course fail to understand a basic ingroup affirmation (Jesus’s origin from God) and thereby differentiate themselves.

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Ingroup Identity Beliefs—Jesus as One from and Who Reveals God (8:1–59) The chapter continues in Jerusalem, during Tabernacles. Jesus and “the Jews” continue to fight over the defining and differentiating beliefs of ingroup identity, namely Jesus’s identity as the one from God who reveals God. The opening scene concerning the adulterous woman (often marked by parentheses since it is missing from leading manuscripts) is dichotomous. The scene sets Jesus over against the Jerusalem leaders, the scribes, and Pharisees (“the Jews”). It also sets the law of Moses requiring her stoning over against Jesus’s teaching from God (7:16–17) that does not condemn her. He reveals the Jerusalem leaders who would condemn her themselves to not be “without sin” (8:7; cf. 7:7 “the world”). After discrediting his opponents, Jesus again co-opts a symbol from the festival as he did with water (7:37–39). He reinterprets light in relation to himself as the revealer of God (8:12–20). Jesus again declares his origin from and destiny with God and his revelation of God’s judgment which, being God-guaranteed, surpasses that of the two human witnesses that Moses’s law requires. Again he declares that their rejection of him differentiates them as not knowing God (8:15–20; cf. 7:28). And again the narrator appeals to divine determinism as that which protects Jesus and thwarts “the Jews’” murderous intent. These dichotomies express inviolable and fixed boundaries between Jesus’s favored ingroup who know these benefits and the outgroups who do not. The sharp dichotomies continue as Jesus outlines his identity and his opponents’ fate. They will die in their sins and not encounter God. They do not understand Jesus. He declares their origin to be the opposite of his, “from below” which means, subsequently, the devil. They belong to “the world” under Roman power and opposed to God. They do not believe Jesus. They do not know his origin or his identity. By contrast, Jesus goes to God and comes from God. He does not belong to the world (which opposes God). He reveals God and as Son of Man, who will be lifted up in crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension, speaks God’s word. God has sent him and Jesus pleases God. This testimony leads to some of “the Jews” believing in Jesus (8:30–31). One might think that some have traversed the binary to change identities from “the Jews” to become “believers.” Have some moved from outgroup to ingroup through a process of depersonalization and conforming to ingroup norms? Does Jesus’s witness to the world bear fruit? It is not so. From 8:32–59, Jesus aggressively reasserts the boundaries, defining these “Jews who have believed” as outgroup members and harshly condemning them (8:32–38). He continues to construct them as violent in wanting to use their power to kill him (8:37, 40). In addition to previously subordinating Moses whom Jesus claims wrote about and witnessed to him (5:46–47), he will co-opt and subordinate Abraham as his ally and witness. Jesus instructs them to continue in his word to be his disciples and to become free. But they identify themselves with Abraham, distinguishing themselves from Jesus by birth not from above/ from God (3:3–8) but from Abraham. They recategorize themselves by ethnicity not by Jesus’s words or God’s activity. They deny being slaves, while Jesus declares them to be slaves of sin and

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to be intent on killing him as a rejection of his word from God (8:37). They confirm his invention of them as murderers subsequently in seeking to stone Jesus (8:59; 10:31). In response, they reassert their identity as children of Abraham (8:39). Jesus counters, denying their claim that they originate from and imitate their father, Abraham, since they seek to do an un-Abraham-like thing in trying to kill him (8:40). Violence has been a consistent marker of the outgroups. Instead, Jesus charges them with originating from and resembling another unspecified father. They fill the gap by claiming God as their father thereby defining Jesus as an outsider (8:41). Jesus disqualifies this attempt by again claiming to have the inside “God” track. If it was true that God was their father, they would “love” him and accept his word since he is sent from God. Typically they misunderstand. Now Jesus identifies their father in cosmic terms—the devil whom they resemble, he declares, as a murderer, liar, and nonbeliever in Jesus (8:44–47). They cannot share Jesus’s origin from God, he announces, because they do not accept his words and undergo a process of depersonalization and adoption of ingroup norms. Counter charges follow as they again engage in recategorization and reverse the boundaries, identifying themselves as the superior ingroup and Jesus belonging to the discredited outgroup (8:48). They invent Jesus as “other,” a Samaritan (not a true descendant of Abraham, but ironically included in the ingroup, ch. 4) and demonize him as a child or agent of the devil, not God (charged and answered in 7:20–21). Jesus makes two counter-claims that escalate the conflict, recategorize the two groups, redraw boundaries, and provoke a murderous response. First, Jesus claims that keeping his word means life and not death. They maintain their alignment with Abraham and scorn Jesus’s suggestion to excel and outlive their father. Second, Jesus takes Abraham from them, subordinating Abraham in claiming to have pre-existed him and constructing Abraham as his witness and supporter (8:56–58). Predictably, they misunderstand and stereotypically resort to violence with stones. And predictably they are thwarted. Jesus is God’s revealer. Ingroup and outgroup identities are restored. Many readers of the Gospel have rightly expressed dismay at v. 44’s tragic construction of “the Jews who believed in Jesus” as children of the devil. The verse’s continuing anti-Semitic contribution is undoubted and deeply regrettable. Surely such material cannot be read in Christian worship. From a social identity perspective, Hakola reads the language of “Jews who believed in Jesus” as denoting significant similarities to Jesus’s disciples. One option would be to build a superordinate identity that is able to embrace the diverse identities (Hornsey and Hogg). But this option is not taken as the narrative continues its commitment to differentiation. Hakola argues that similarities between rival groups can be both an attraction and a threat to ingroup distinctives (124–31). Similarities can elevate intergroup threat and conflict against outgroups to escalate differentiation and increase ingroup favoritism. Conversely, similarities can also reduce discrimination, increase readiness for contact with an outgroup, and attract ingroup “low identifiers” to cross the boundaries to an outgroup. The construction of these believing Jews pejoratively in 8:31–59 counters attraction. The strong assertion of dualities that elevate the ingroup and malign the outgroup—God or the devil, Jesus or Abraham, accepting Jesus’s word or rejecting it, believing Jesus or trying to kill him— reestablishes ingroup identity and boundaries against those whose belief in Jesus does not cohere to, though overlaps somewhat with, ingroup affirmations. Hakola’s argument is that the strong textual assertion of dichotomies reflects a complex sociohistorical situation of unsettled and mutable boundaries that the text seeks to reinvent and redraw with the sharpest polarities. 189

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Healing and the Process of Uncovering Jesus’s Identity (9:1–41) The chapter opens with Jesus’s healing of a beggar “man blind from birth” at the pool of Siloam in Jerusalem on the Sabbath (9:1–8). Thereafter, the remaining thirty-five or so verses elaborate the process of the man’s developing insight into Jesus’s identity from the sign to confession, often in the context of division and opposition. Like the Samaritan woman of ch. 4, the man is presented as a prototype of the process of depersonalization in conforming to ingroup norms, joining the ingroup, and gaining ingroup identity. This prototypical process unfolds through five scenes involving changing combinations of characters and escalating confessions of Jesus’s identity, each scene adding more insight to the previous one. The man’s first interrogators are neighbors and those who had known him as a beggar (9:8–12). Typical of the chapter, there are divisions over the man’s identity even though the man affirms his identity. The questions move attention from him to the identity of the man who had opened his eyes. The man’s stipulates “the man called Jesus” and narrates what happened. For an unspecified reason, they take the man to the Pharisees/the Jews, Jesus’s opponents and the Gospel’s homogenous opposition outgroup (9:13–17). These opponents focus on the timing of the healing on a Sabbath. Some of them conclude that Jesus cannot be from God because he does not observe the Sabbath. But the charge reflects their typical misunderstanding. Previously Jesus has claimed the right to define Sabbath honoring in terms of healing rather than inactivity (7:23). Other Pharisees conclude differently that such signs mean Jesus cannot be a sinner. Again there is division because of different conclusions about his identity. They ask the man for his opinion about Jesus. He identifies Jesus now as a prophet (9:17), a confession of greater insight than 9:11’s “the man named Jesus.” His new statement expresses some progress in insight (4:19; 6:14) even as it recalls controversy (4:44), and division (7:40). The third scene involves “the Jews” or leaders and the man’s parents (9:18–23). The authorities do not believe the man’s declaration that he was blind. The man’s parents confirm his blindness but have no idea about who opened his eyes. They redirect attention to the healed man himself since he is “of age” (9:21). The narrator explains this redirection in terms of the parents’ fear of “the Jews.” This fear is strangely explained as expulsion from the synagogue for confessing Jesus to be the Messiah (9:22). The man has made no such confession but the explanation adds this divisive statement of Jesus’s identity (7:26–31, 41–42) to the escalating insights of the chapter (1:17). The authorities again interrogate the man (9:24–34). They define themselves as the ingroup in declaring Jesus to be the outsider, a sinner for healing on the Sabbath (9:16). The man contests the designation and again attests his healing. In response to their questioning, he goes on the offensive, accusing them of not listening (as Jesus had previously, 8:47) and challenging them to become his disciple. The challenge elicits their confession of their identity as disciples of Moses to whom God has spoken and who is a revealer of God. And they confess they do not know the answer to the central question of Jesus’s origin. In response, the man continues his gaining of ingroup identity by refuting the notion that Jesus is a sinner, affirming that Jesus obeys God’s will, and confessing Jesus’s identity as one who has come from God (9:33). With classist arrogance they declare the man to be a sinner from birth (viewing his blindness as punitive), reject his “teaching,” and expel him (from?).

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The final scene reunites Jesus with the man. The central confession identifies Jesus as the Son of Man, the heavenly figure in Jewish traditions who represents God’s authority and rule over all people and carries out judgment against corrupt elites and rulers (Dan 7; 1 Enoch 46–48). This figure who represents God’s reign is not good news for the Roman Empire and their provincial allies. It portends the establishment of God’s empire and the end of Roman rule and that judgment is under way in the present in Jesus’s ministry (5:22–23). Jesus reveals himself to the man, which the man receives with belief and worship—central characteristics of Jesus’s ingroup (9:38). The man is a prototype of the process of depersonalization and recategorization in joining the ingroup and gaining its distinctive identity. The scene concludes with Jesus affirming his mission of judgment—to enable the blind to see, and to blind those who think they know the divine purposes and working (9:39). The powerful elites condemn themselves by not recognizing their blindness and thereby confirming their stereotypical outgroup identity (9:40–41).

Jesus Contrasted with the Jewish Leaders and Roman Allies (10:1–42) Verses 1–21 continue Jesus’s address to the Jerusalem leaders from 9:40–41. The focus broadens beyond affirmations of Jesus’s identity to the content of his revelation of God’s life and purposes. As the good shepherd, he enacts a societal vision of life marked by abundant material provision and somatic well-being (10:9–10). The image of the shepherd as ruler was common in both Jewish and Greco-Roman traditions. This section contrasts Jesus with the outgroup Jerusalem leaders and their Roman allies, who are imaged negatively as thieves and bandits/brigands, strangers and hirelings who harm the sheep and threaten and destroy life (10:1, 5, 8, 10–13). The text’s intertextuality with Ezek 34 elaborates the damage that these leaders as bad shepherds inflict. They fail to feed the sheep and have not “strengthened the weak . . . healed the sick . . . bound up the injured . . . brought back the strayed . . . sought the lost . . . but with force and harshness you ruled them” (Ezek 34:3–4). Likewise, classical texts present criticism of Roman rulers as bad shepherds. Suetonius, for example, has Emperor Tiberius reject a provincial governor’s request for increased taxes by cynically saying, “It was the part of a good shepherd to shear his flock not skin it” (Tib 32). Dio Chrysostom (56.16.3) has Bato, son of the leader of the Dalmatian’s revolt against Rome, explain the revolt to Tiberius: “You Romans are to blame for this; for you send as guardians of your flocks, not dogs or shepherds, but wolves.” By contrast, Jesus’s signs—feedings (6:1–14), healings (9:1– 7)—enact his beneficial vision of good somatic and societal life for all and counter the somatic damage inflicted on non-elites by the structures and practices of the imperial world and its elite agents and allies. Jesus provides more benefits for his ingroup sheep/followers. He calls them by name; they know his voice and follow (10:3–4, 14). He lays down his life to benefit the sheep. The outgroup—the power elite—do not take Jesus’s life when they crucify him. He lays it down and takes it up as God’s agent by God’s command; they have no power over him (10:11, 15, 17). Moreover, he enacts an imperial vision of a much expanded ingroup, adding “other sheep”

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(perhaps Gentiles) to form one group under his rule as the one shepherd (10:16). The image constructs a single large community of followers of Jesus. It is unclear whether this community reflects or homogenizes human diversity (ethnicity, religion, cultural, etc.), whether it embraces all humanity (no outgroups), and whether this universal community is marked by tolerance or intolerance of difference. As throughout chs 7–9, division in the outgroup follows. Some again ally Jesus with the devil, turning the tables to recategorize him as other (7:20; 8:48–49, 52) and themselves as an ingroup associated with God, Moses, and Abraham (8:39; 9:28–29). Others wonder about the source of his eye-opening power since somatic transformation is a common sign of divine activity (9:1–7; 10:21). Still in Jerusalem in the temple, a new interaction between Jesus and “the Jews” (the Jerusalem political-religious leaders) takes place at the festival of Dedication or Hanukkah (10:22–39). The festival celebrated the rededication of the temple in 164 BCE after its violation by the Seleucid ruler Antiochus IV Epiphanes. Dedication to divine service pervades the section’s debates. The debate, resembling an interrogation, divides into two subsections. Verses 24–30 concern Jesus’s identity as Messiah; vv. 32–38 concern his identity as Son of God. Both sections end with rejecting and hostile action against Jesus, attempted stoning (10:31) and arrest (10:39). Jesus’s responses rehearse central affirmations about his identity, that of the ingroup of his followers and that of the outgroup. “The Jews” initiate the first exchange with a question about Jesus’s identity as Messiah and accusation that Jesus has not made this clear (10:24). Jesus rehearses his identity as God’s agent who does God’s works (10:25), commissioned or anointed by God (the meaning of “Messiah”), and one with God’s will (10:30). This identity is the basis for the division between “the Jews” as the outgroup who do not accept Jesus’s claims (10:26) and his ingroup, his sheep, who hear his voice, follow him, and receive the benefits of “life-of-the-age” and divine protection (10:27–29). His claim of being one with God provokes a response whereby they try to stone him to death. They explain this act as a response to what they consider to be his blasphemous claim to be equal with God (10:31–33; compare 5:18; 8:58–59). In identifying Jesus as a blasphemer to be stoned, they recategorize themselves as the ingroup and Jesus as the excluded other. Their failure to accomplish this goal of destroying him reveals the futility of their attempt at recategorizing Jesus’s identity. God protects him (10:18). Jesus counters in the second exchange and rearranges these categories. He reasserts his identity as “the one whom the Father has sanctified and sent into the world” as “God’s son” (10:36; compare 6:69) who is in intimate relationship with God: “The Father is in me and I am in the Father” (10:38). He challenges them to believe his works—feedings, healings, giving life-ofthe-age—as demonstrations of God’s life-giving work. They attempt to arrest him (10:39). Again the attempt to shut him down and recategorize him as “other” is unsuccessful; again the failure attests God’s protection of Jesus (10:18). Jesus escapes, thereby underscoring his agency and power, as well as the ineffectiveness of “the Jews’” efforts to detain him (10:17–18). He goes across the Jordan, evoking a reference to John’s baptizing activity which testifies to Jesus in faithful witness (1:28; 3:22–24). In contrast to the rejecting “Jews,” many “believed in him.”

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The Raising of Lazarus and Outgroup Opposition (11:1–57) The raising of Lazarus (11:38–44) occurs after a thirty-seven verse buildup. The miracle or sign occupies a transition point in the narrative. It is the culmination of Jesus’s public ministry, his greatest miracle/sign that manifests God’s power and presence, yet it is also a catalyst for his upcoming death. The opening six verses establish Jesus’s loving relationship with both Lazarus and his sisters Mary and Martha. Yet he does not visit Lazarus immediately when he hears he was sick. This delay is necessary for the narrative and revelation of God’s life-giving power in Jesus’s action. Lazarus must die so that the powerful presence of God in Jesus can be revealed. Meantime (11:7–16), Lazarus dies and Jesus plans to return to Bethany in Judea to visit Mary and Martha. His ingroup disciples recall the attempt of “the Jews” to stone him (10:31) and resist the plan, blurring the categorization of the ingroup sheep as those who should “know” Jesus’s voice (10:4–5, 27). They do not share Jesus’s conviction that his enemies have no power over his life until he gives it (10:17–18). The pessimistic Thomas remains convinced that they go to Judea to die with Jesus (11:16). They construct themselves as innocent victims of outgroup hostility that seeks to inflict undeserved murderous harm on them (Bar-Tal et al, “Victimhood,” 239). This categorization employs dichotomies of victim and persecutors, the innocent and the culpable, the just and the wicked, the good and the evil. Jesus remains undeterred by their construct, informing them that the “waking” of Lazarus will induce faith from them and so restore their identity (11:15). The ingroup’s erroneous expectations and the blurring of boundaries are further underscored as Jesus approaches Bethany to encounter not hostile “Jews” but to learn that “many of the Jews” consoled the grieving Mary and Martha (11:17–27, 31). After chapters of animosity between Jesus and “the Jews” as Jerusalem’s leaders and Rome’s allies, these “Jews” are caring neighbors and friends thereby reducing previous oppositions. Martha rebukes Jesus for not being present to heal Lazarus even as she expresses hope that Jesus can obtain from God whatever he requests. Jesus assures Martha of Lazarus’s resurrection in the present, not only the future (5:25). In contrast to the hostile “Jews” inability to hear Jesus’s voice (10:24–39), Martha makes the ingroup confession of Jesus as both Messiah and Son of God (11:27). She functions somewhat as an exemplar of part of the process of depersonalization involved in identifying with the ingroup. Mary also rebukes Jesus for not being present (11:32). Jesus is deeply moved by her grief and that of the consoling Jews and weeps. Some wonder why the man who restored sight to the blind man did not save Lazarus from death (11:37). At Lazarus’s tomb, Jesus orders the stone removed despite the protest of odor from four days’ decomposition. Jesus prays, framing his prayer in terms of a revelation to the crowd that he is God’s agent sent by God (11:42). He summons Lazarus who emerges from the tomb bound in his linen shroud. The response from “the Jews” is divided. Some believe in Jesus (though what they report is not specified); some report him to the ruling authorities/Pharisees (11:45–46). Verses 47–57 focus on the response of the outgroup, oppositional, Jerusalem authorities comprising the chief priests and Pharisees, allies of Rome. This homogeneous construction of these diverse groups commonly features in an ingroup’s construction of a hostile outgroup (Wohl and Branscombe). Just why Jesus’s performing of many signs, including raising Lazarus, should require a council meeting is not explained (11:47).

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Of course the council of ruling elites understands itself as the ingroup and so constructs Jesus as a threat who might destabilize their self-benefiting status quo as allies of Roman power. Perhaps they fear the power of the crowd that Jesus is able to attract which might provoke their Roman allies to intervene militarily against the leaders, their temple power base, and the people to impose control on a rebellious situation. Perhaps they fear that if Jesus makes himself equal to God (5:18) or even makes himself God (10:33), he would threaten the central Jewish identity marker of monotheism. Perhaps they fear that he promotes unfaithfulness to God (claiming to surpass Abraham [8:56–58] and Moses [5:46–47; 9:28–29], not observing the identity marker of the Sabbath [(9:16]), so that God will punish them by destroying the nation and temple. The tradition recorded that God had, in the sixth century BCE, used the Babylonians to destroy Jerusalem and its temple when the leaders and people were understood to abandon covenant faithfulness (2 Kgs 21:14–15). The scene escalates the conflict of chs 5–11 marked by the authorities’ numerous attempts to kill Jesus (7:30; 8:59; 10:31, 39). Since 1:10–11, the outgroup, the world, has been constructed as rejecting Jesus and as violent. It hates Jesus (7:7) and hates Jesus’s followers (15:18–19). The Pharisees offer a rationale for putting Jesus to death concerning the Roman threat that is politically expedient (11:48). Caiaphas offers his own version of political expediency to protect elite privilege and power in commending the death of this one man in order to protect the nation (11:49–50). The narrator reframes Caiaphas’s unwitting prophecy concerning Jesus’s death (11:51–52). While the powerful authorities think they can accomplish their political goals by killing him, the narrator signals that their purposes will, at least in part, be thwarted and God’s purposes accomplished. Readers know that Jesus’s death will not prevent but contribute to the Romans coming to destroy the temple, city, and people in 70 CE. Again the ruling group is ineffective. Yet as Caiaphas indicates, Jesus’s death can benefit the nation. The narrator adds that Jesus will gather “the dispersed children of God” thereby expanding the ingroup and accomplishing the (imperial) goals of forming one flock under one ruling shepherd (10:16). Again the narrative presents the murderous intent of the Rome-allied, Jerusalem ruling authorities in seeking to kill Jesus (11:53). Since violence characterizes and differentiates imperial power, Jesus and his followers do not respond with violence. Jesus withdraws from public view with his disciples. With the approaching Passover, there is speculation as to whether Jesus will make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, since the Jerusalem authorities seek to arrest him (11:55–57).

Ingroup and Outgroup Differences concerning Belief in Jesus (12:1–50) The chapter concludes Jesus’s public ministry and positions Jesus for his crucifixion (chs 18–19). The first scene returns to the household of Mary, Martha, and the recently raised Lazarus (12:1–8). With an extravagant amount of perfume, Mary “anoints” Jesus, an action that affirms the ingroup confession of his identity as Messiah/Christ. Anointing also identifies Jesus as king or emperor and agent of God’s rule, not Rome’s. Mary’s act is both imitative and subversive and so anticipates Jesus’s imminent death by the Jerusalem elites and their Roman allies (12:7). Her actions contrast with Judas’s responses; he protests the use of perfume by claiming that the money could be used for

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the poor. The narrator undermines Judas by presenting him as a thief who steals from the common purse and is unconcerned for the poor. He is constructed as a very low-level identifier with some ingroup commitments. Jesus supports Mary’s action but at the expense of care for the poor (12:8). The outgroup chief priests observe the crowds drawn to Jesus and believing in him (12:9–11). Lazarus functions as a witness to the power of God manifested by Jesus. How “authentic” the crowds’ faith is, based on signs, is not clear (2:11, 23–25; 4:48; 11:47). Stereotypically, the outgroup resorts to their characteristic behavior of murderous violence. In addition to seeking to kill Jesus (11:53), they also plan to kill Lazarus who witnesses to Jesus and causes others to believe in him (12:10–11). Violence continues to be a dominating strategy that marks the outgroup. Jesus enters Jerusalem. The “great crowd” constructs him as a conquering hero or ruler and welcomes him as a royal victor (12:12). Palm branches signify national victory (1 Macc 13:51). Psalm 118 celebrates victory in battle. He is greeted as “King of Israel,” echoing Zeph 3:14–15’s celebration of God’s ruling presence (John 12:13). Jesus procures a donkey and, echoing Zech 9:9, enacts the eschatological vision of God’s entry to Jerusalem as King of Israel and over the nations—including Rome’s empire. Four responses follow. The ingroup disciples continue to not understand (12:16; compare 11:7–16). The crowd that witnessed Jesus raising Lazarus continues to testify to Jesus’s action (12:17). Others hear their testimony and come to meet Jesus (12:18). The outgroup Pharisees, though, continue to fear Jesus’s drawing power (12:19). Their reference to the world going after him exaggerates his appeal even as it anticipates the next scene involving Gentiles coming to Jesus. It also, ironically, recalls Caiaphas’s prophecy concerning Jesus’s threat to the Roman order (11:50–52), as well as Jesus’s declaration that he came to save the world (3:16–17; 4:42). Their statement “you can do nothing” ironically emphasizes their powerlessness in taking Jesus’s life (10:17–18). The world that comes to Jesus includes Gentiles who benefit from Jesus’s gift of universal salvation (4:42; 12:20–22). Their responsiveness expands his “one flock” (10:16), redefining the ingroup as multiethnic and multinational, providing the challenge of a heterogeneous community comprising diverse practices and traditions. That Jesus does not greet them personally is scarcely a convincing start to this redefinition and categorization process. Instead, Jesus announces himself as the Son of Man, the agent of God’s worldwide rule over all empires including Rome’s (Dan 7). His time has come to be “glorified,” crucified, resurrected, and ascended to God. Jesus gives his life; the outgroup opponents do not take it from him. He continues to define his ingroup followers as those who lose and hate their life, abandoning their empire-constituted existence and finding life-of-the-age in serving and following him as honored by God (12:24–26). Jesus does not avoid his imminent death because “it is for this reason that I have come” (12:27). The heavenly voice confirms for both Jesus and the crowd that God’s purposes are being revealed. Those purposes include judgment on the outgroup world whose rejection of Jesus is expressed in crucifying him. The ruler of the world, driven out by the crucifixion, is often identified as the devil. More likely, it is the Roman Empire in the person of the Roman governor Pilate who enacts the death penalty of crucifixion and condemns himself and the system he represents by rejecting Jesus. The lifting up of Jesus (3:14; 8:28; 12:32) describes not only his crucifixion, but also his resurrection and ascension to God. The former displays the power of the alliance of the Jerusalem leaders and the Roman governor. The latter reveals their limited power because they cannot keep him dead. The life-giving power of God overcomes the outgroup’s act of rejecting Jesus, the evil 195

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and death-bringing power of Rome’s empire and its allies that crucifixion displays, and enables Jesus’s resurrection and return to God. Jesus’s lifting up thereby reveals the salvation that God offers to, and that attracts, all people into the ingroup, thereby eliminating an outgroup. Typically, the crowd misunderstands (12:34; 7:26–27, 41–42). In asking about the Son of Man’s identity, they do not know a central ingroup identification of Jesus. They have not even realized Jesus has been speaking about himself since 12:23. Their misunderstanding denotes the divide between ingroup and outgroup. Yet Jesus does not see the misunderstanding as final (12:35–36). He makes another appeal to them, thereby holding out the possibility of their movement into and self-categorization in his ingroup. His appeal employs temporal urgency (“for a little longer”), metaphorical speech by which he identifies himself (light) and their contrastive circumstances (darkness), the binary of salvation (light) and judgment (darkness), an appeal to believe and live a consistent way of life (walk), and the promise of a new identity as “children of light.” That is, his appeal sets out a prototypical process of identity formation, depersonalization, and ingroup categorization through commitment to ingroup norms. The appeal along with Jesus’s signs is unsuccessful in facilitating belief (12:36b–41). This unbelief is in accord with Isaiah’s explanation that human unbelief reflects divine determinism. Now Isaiah, like Moses (5:46–47) and Abraham (8:56–58), is co-opted from the past as a witness to Jesus’s activity. But others believe, including some of the authorities. Human choice is also operative. Yet because of social intimidation from other authorities (the Pharisees), and the risk of the loss of a social identity, these “secret” believers did not openly confess their belief and publicly recategorize themselves. Fear of exclusion from the synagogue prevents their voluntary crossover from one social institution (synagogue) to that of the “flock” of Jesus-believers (12:42). In recognizing “secret” believers, the narrative momentarily acknowledges that the constructed binary of light and darkness is too simplistic, that the divide of ingroup and outgroup does not accommodate the ambiguities of human loyalties and societal structures. But as quickly as the recognition emerges, it disappears. Those who believe but do not confess openly are condemned for preferring human prestige and status to honoring God (12:43). They are consigned to the outgroup because they love their lives, do not follow Jesus, and so do not gain the benefit of life-of-the-age (12:23–26). The final verses review the dominant beliefs or understandings of ingroup identity (12:44–50). The ingroup centers on Jesus, sent from God to reveal God (12:44–45). Human response, either belief that constitutes the ingroup or rejection that marks the hostile outgroup, has eschatological consequences. Jesus’s goal is to save the world not judge it, but rejection of him leads to judgment as well as outgroup affiliation (12:46–48). Jesus speaks what God commands him to speak (12:49–50).

The Final Meal between Jesus and His Ingroup: Identity Markers Described (13:1–38) Jesus’s public ministry ended in ch. 12. Jesus now meets with his disciples (chs 13–17). The accounts of Jesus’s death span chs 18–19 and his resurrection chs 20–21. Chapters 13–17 196

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comprise a farewell discourse or final testament. Such testaments were common in the biblical and Mediterranean worlds (Moses in Deuteronomy; Josh 22–24; Socrates in Plato’s Phaedo). A famous man approaching death gathers his family, reviews his life, and offers final instructions, blessings, and promises. In so doing he articulates central characteristics or identity markers for those who would continue his legacy. Chapter 13 takes place at a final meal between Jesus and his ingroup. It is neither a Passover Seder nor an Eucharist but a foot washing and farewell meal. The opening verses restate central ingroup beliefs concerning Jesus. He has revealed what God the Father has given him. His origin is from God, thereby guaranteeing the reliability of his revelation. His identity is God’s agent. His destiny is to abandon the resisting world and return to God. His time or “hour” to do so has come. He loves his followers. Yet the loved ingroup is not protected from outgroup opposition. The source of the world’s resistance, the devil, has corrupted one of the disciples, Judas, to betray Jesus (13:2). Judas’s lowlevel identification with ingroup commitments has been signaled previously in describing him as a devil (6:70–71), a betrayer, and a thief (12:4–6). He is an agent of outgroup murderous hostility toward Jesus, though Jesus is not taken by surprise by Judas’s snitching (13:11). The meal is set in the context of the pervasive binary of cosmic struggle between God and the devil, between good (the ingroup) and evil (all others including Judas). Jesus takes the role of host and slave in washing the ingroup’s feet (13:4–10). In doing so he welcomes the group into his “dwelling”—his house with God (14:2). Peter’s initial refusal to have his feet washed by Jesus the slave excludes him from participating in the loving “home” of God and Jesus that Jesus reveals and effects (14:23). While Jesus seeks Peter’s participation, he knows of Judas’s rejection of this relationship and does not pursue him (13:11). The foot washing provides not only an example of occasional acts that disciples should exhibit toward one another (13:14b–15), but also a model of continuing egalitarian ingroup structures and interactions. It is as Lord and Teacher that Jesus takes the slave’s role in washing the ingroup’s feet. His action gives up the power and dominance that are characteristic of the hegemonic male in a group. His action as a slave disrupts and inverts the hierarchy of the Lord/Master-slave power relationships as well as the teacher-disciple relationship. In framing the foot washing in these terms, it becomes a group identity marker, an example not just of an occasional praxis but of interactions among ingroup members (regardless of ethnicity, social class, gender, and sexual orientation), that are to be marked by equal, not dominant, power and by mutual regard. “Slaves are not greater than their master nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them” (13:16). Such structures and interactions are declared to be divinely blessed (13:17); to receive one another in this way displays central ingroup identifiers of reception of Jesus and of the God who sent him (13:20). The repeated previous references to Judas’s betrayal of Jesus (13:2, 11, 18–19), indications that all is not well within the ingroup in terms of commitment and loyalty to Jesus, are developed in 13:21–30. Jesus’s blunt announcement of imminent betrayal from within the ingroup surprises disciples (13:21–22). In contrast to Judas’s low-level ingroup identification, another disciple— nameless—is introduced as a prototypical ingroup member, loved by Jesus, reclining next to him, and with special access to and receptivity of his teaching (13:23–25). To him, through a process of dipped bread, Jesus identifies Judas as the betrayer and sends him on his way (13:26). Satan is again identified as the agent at work in Judas’s role as snitch. Judas’s murderous opposition 197

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continues to be set in a contestive cosmic binary (13:27), and he is allied with night or darkness, the realm that rejects the revelation of God’s presence and power—light—in Jesus (13:30). The disciples continue not to understand and think Jesus has referenced another group identity marker, giving alms to the poor (13:28–29). As a consequence of Judas’s betrayal, Jesus instructs the ingroup that his time to depart to the Father is at hand. He establishes another marker of group identity in his absence, they are to continue to manifest his love to one another, “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another” (13:34–35). The command is inward focused. It applies to ingroup relationships; it does not extend love to outgroups. But ingroup identity remains vulnerable. Simon Peter questions Jesus’s declaration that the ingroup cannot follow Jesus now but will do so later. Peter boasts of his supreme loyalty, that he will “lay down my life for you” (13:37). But Jesus predicts that Peter will deny Jesus three times before the cock crows (13:38).

Jesus’s Farewell Discourse and Its Social Implications for the Ingroup (14:1–31) Chapter 14 begins a three-chapter monologue from Jesus. Various themes revolve around Jesus’s departure and its implications for the superior and blessed ingroup in Jesus’s absence. Verses 1–6 identify Jesus’s destiny as “my Father’s house,” his intimate relationship with his Father God (1:18; 13:1–3). Post-70 CE, after the Jerusalem temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE, this relationship of knowing and encountering God is the destiny of Jesus’s ingroup (14:4) which Jesus reveals to, and makes possible for, them (14:5–7). In response to Philip’s quest for revelation of God, Jesus rehearses ingroup affirmations about his role as revealer of God. Jesus renders God knowable (14:7), visible (14:9, 11), and audible (14:10). This revelation is based in the mutual, intimate, indwelling of Jesus and God (14:10–11). It also means that the ingroup, believers in Jesus, continue Jesus’s works (healings, feedings, revelation, etc.) that reveal God’s life-giving, loving eschatological purposes in even greater number (14:12). Jesus promises to answer their prayers (14:13–14). Jesus elaborates two further characteristics of the ingroup. One is that love for Jesus means observing Jesus’s commandments (14:15, 21). In so doing, ingroup members experience the love of God and participate in the intimate relationship of God and Jesus (14:23). The reverse defines the outgroup; those who not love Jesus do not obey his words (14:24). The second ingroup characteristic is that God’s presence abides with the ingroup after Jesus’s departure (14:15–16). Jesus promises to have God send a Paraclete, an advocate or counselor, the Spirit of truth, who will be with them forever. This Spirit is known only by and among the ingroup. The ingroup and Spirit mutually indwell each other. Just as the outgroup, the world, does not recognize Jesus as God’s revealer, it does not know the Spirit. The Spirit’s presence or absence divides the cosmic and social entities of ingroup and outgroup. The Spirit enacts Jesus’s promise to not leave the ingroup orphaned, alone without divine presence in which the ingroup abides (14:18–20).

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Verses 25–26 add one more role for this Spirit. It teaches the ingroup what it needs to know and reminds them of Jesus’s teaching. It thus continues Jesus’s role as a revealer. Jesus’s other benefit is the gift to the ingroup of a particular kind of peace (14:27). It is not the peace that marks the world of dominating Roman power whereby imperial peace designates domination and forced submission, military conquest, tax, and tribute. Jesus’s peace for the ingroup is far superior because it belongs to and enacts the life-of-the-age marked by divine presence, abundance, and love. There is no place for fear or for resentment of Jesus’s imminent departure to God in accord with the Father’s will (14:28–29). His departure will be effected by “the ruler of this world,” not a reference to the devil as is often claimed, but to the Roman governor Pilate who in chs 18–19 will consign Jesus to death. Yet Pilate can do so only because the Father permits it. Jesus remains in control of his life, is not defeated by or subjected to Roman power, and lays down his own life for the benefit of others (10:18; 15:13).

Jesus’s Teaching Reinforces the Ingroup’s Social Identity (15:1–27) The section continues with Jesus’s farewell and final teachings. It employs an everyday viticulture metaphor (and one used in the Hebrew Bible, Isa 5:1–7) of the vineyard and vines to construct the ingroup’s identity that comprises life in intimate relationship with God (15:1–11). God as vinegrower is the source of its life. Jesus the vine reveals and conveys this life. Ingroup members grow from and are attached to the vine as branches. Their lives bear acts of love as fruit. Fruitless ingroup members are removed (as outgroup members? 15:2, 6), while fruitful members are pruned to effect greater fruitfulness. Throughout, distinctive ingroup practices and identity (bearing fruit, being cleansed, abiding, loving, etc.) are emphasized to differentiate the ingroup from outgroups. The relationship of vine and branch, of Jesus and ingroup members, is denoted by the repeated verb “abide” or “remain” (15:4–7, 9–10). This abiding is accomplished by receptivity to Jesus’s love expressed in obedience to Jesus’s words and commandments. In so doing the ingroup remains in God’s love and experiences the benefit of full joy. The construction of the ingroup centers on mutual love and abiding in the presence of God and Jesus. The egalitarian emphasis from ch. 13’s foot washing scene continues. No branch is more important than other branches. All are expected to be fruitful. All branches depend on the one vine. There is no hierarchy of status or office or rank among the branches. Beyond this nonhierarchical implication, the image is less successful in imaging positive or active intragroup relationships among branches and fruit. Such relationships are, however, no less important; lives comprising acts of love are expected, indeed commanded (15:12). But the image of vine and branches does not express it well. Consequently, vv. 12–17 foreground the command for ingroup love for one another. The command is placed at the beginning and end of this subsection (15:12, 17). To act in love for one another imitates Jesus’s love for ingroup members and obeys his commandment. Its greatest expression is to give one’s life for another ingroup member, just as Jesus gives his life (15:13–14). Anticipating vv. 18–25, giving one’s life in this way reinforces the sense of the ingroup in hateful

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and hostile conflict with its opponents but not defeated by them. Jesus has revealed the Father’s will to the ingroup. Jesus has chosen the ingroup and commissioned it to bear fruit—to act in love (15:15–17). Love for outgroup members is not required. Verses 18–25 categorize the ingroup in relation to the outgroup world with a binary of love and hate. While the ingroup is defined by love for its own members, the outgroup (the powerful Jerusalem-based, Rome-allied, Jesus-rejecting leaders) exemplifies hate for the ingroup. Seven times the section names the outgroup world’s hatred. Embodying collective victimhood (Bar-Tal, “Victimhood,” below), the text asserts three times that the world hates the ingroup because it first hated Jesus (15:18, 3x). The world loves its own; its hate for the ingroup reflects the ingroup’s distinctive status, differentiated by being chosen and separated from the world by Jesus (15:19). The outgroup world’s hate for Jesus also means hate for God, something Ps 35:19 is understood to attest (15:23–25). In addition, the sinful world persecutes Jesus and the ingroup (15:20–22). Verse 20 expresses the profound solidarity based in rejection, persecution, and hatred that the section creates between Jesus and the ingroup. “Servants are not greater than their master.” Jesus’s suffering at the hands of the outgroup world is prototypical of that which his ingroup followers experience. Bar-Tal et al. (“Victimhood”) name this phenomenon as collective victimhood. Selfperceived, collective victimhood comprises a group mindset that arises when a group understands another group to be a source of harm to it. The belief of collective victimhood draws on previous acts of destruction, suffering, and oppression. Often the present threat and harm are understood to be undeserved and unjust, even as the ingroup considers itself superior and worthy of sympathy because of the hostile treatment. Here the categorization of collective victimhood is associated with and originates from the maltreatment or persecution of Jesus whose death the hateful world (the Jerusalem authorities and Roman governor) is about to effect in the narrative but which was accomplished in the ingroup’s past. The ingroup categorizes itself as a continuing target for harm because of this past action against Jesus and its ongoing present association with Jesus whom the Father sent but whom the world rejected, hated, and killed. The self-identification ascribes responsibility to the outgroup because of the outgroup’s previous action against Jesus. For the third time, Jesus promises to send the Paraclete/Advocate as the Spirit of truth to be with the privileged ingroup in the midst of the world’s hate (15:16–17; compare 14:16–17, 26). The Spirit is the means of the continuing presence of Jesus with the ingroup because it testifies on Jesus’s behalf to ingroup members. In turn, ingroup members are to testify since they have accompanied Jesus from the beginning. To whom they testify is not clear at this point. Ingroup reinforcement of its identity seems likely since testifying to the world often seems futile given the world’s hate and the fairly rigid binary of ingroup-outgroup boundaries. Yet in 17:18 and 20:21 Jesus will send the ingroup to continue his mission of being sent by God—into the hateful, rejecting, persecuting world. No doubt the same fate of experiencing rejection awaits the ingroup.

Ingroup Social Identification as Collective Victimhood (16:1–33) The opening section continues the dichotomy of the victimized ingroup and the hostile outgroup (16:1–4). Jesus alerts the ingroup to upcoming expulsion from synagogues and, more seriously, 200

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to being killed or martyred by the outgroup who, so it is alleged, will claim their violence is sanctioned by God. The love-hate interaction of the previous chapter is expressed here in very concrete, harsh, and life-threatening actions that reinforce the ingroup’s identity of collective victimhood. Verse 3 restates the reason for the hostility—differing revelations and understandings of God. Jesus declares that the outgroup has no knowledge of God or Jesus’s identity as the one whom God has sent to reveal God. Its claim to serve God with violence against the ingroup verifies that it does not know God. The God whom Jesus reveals offers peace (14:27), not the murderous violence that imitates imperial ways and is attributed (very uncharitably) to the synagogue. Verses 1 and 4 explain Jesus’s motivation for the warning—that the ingroup will not stumble when these inevitable hostilities happen. To be forewarned is to be forearmed. The assumption, unspoken in these verses but stated previously, is that Jesus will be absent when the ingroup confronts these harsh realities. Jesus makes this assumption of absence explicit in declaring that he is going to the Father (16:4b–7). He acknowledges their sad hearts but there is an advantage to his departure. The ingroup gains a great benefit. Jesus will send the Spirit, the Advocate or Paraclete, who will continue Jesus’s work in his absence (compare 14:16–17, 26; 15:16–17). The Spirit, therefore, has a double function. First it continues Jesus’s work in condemning the outgroup world (3:19; 12:47–48). The Spirit acts as a prosecuting attorney, exposing or revealing the world’s sinfulness in not believing in Jesus and hating God (15:22–24), vindicating Jesus in that his death is not a defeat but a departure to his Father, and judging the world because its ruler, the Roman representative Pilate, is condemned along with the rest of the Roman system and its cosmic power, the devil as opponents of God’s work and agent. The cosmic, imperial, and social binaries continue. The Spirit’s second function concerns the ingroup (16:12–15). The Spirit will continue to instruct the ingroup in its future experiences. These experiences, no matter how dangerous or hostile, are thus placed within Jesus’s purview through the Spirit. The ingroup is thereby assured that it is not abandoned; it does not face this dangerous future alone. The Spirit takes what belongs to Jesus, the revelation of God, and continues to declare it to the ingroup to strengthen it in its unfolding future, difficult, circumstances of collective victimhood. The ingroup disciples’ noncomprehension of Jesus’s statements about his imminent departure to God allows the point to be repeated three times for emphasis: by Jesus (16:16); by the disciples among themselves (16:17–18); and again by the all-knowing Jesus (16:19). The emphasis repeats Jesus’s departure to God because it is prototypical of the destiny of his followers. Not only does the repetition register Jesus’s absence, but it also provides the opportunity to mark benefits of his absence. Jesus acknowledges the disciples’ sorrow but, using the metaphor of the pain and joy of childbirth, highlights their future joy in participating their eschatological union with God and Jesus (16:20–22). In part this participation involves the gift of the Spirit. It also involves not needing to ask Jesus more questions for revelation (16:23a). Answered prayer is a further benefit (16:23b–24). The eschatological privileges and benefits of the ingroup over the condemned outgroup are affirmed. The final section continues to catalogue both the ingroup’s eschatological privileges as well as its vulnerability. In the future participation in the oneness of God and Jesus (14:20), disciples will encounter Jesus’s revelation directly (16:25) and will pray directly to God (16:26). The interaction is marked by two central characteristics of the ingroup: love from God reciprocated by disciples for Jesus and the belief that Jesus is a prototype who has come from God into the hostile world and is returning to God as disciples will do (16:26–28). 201

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The ingroup disciples affirm their understanding of Jesus’s origin from God (16:29–30). But rather than responding with enthusiastic acclamation, Jesus doubts the strength of their claim to believe and predicts that they will fail the upcoming challenge to their ingroup affirmation. Jesus declares that the ingroup will be “scattered,” meaning they will abandon him (so Peter, 13:36–38). By contrast, while Jesus does not trust the ingroup’s loyalty, he trusts that God the Father does not abandon him and remains faithfully present and active forever. He repeats that the ingroup’s benefit of peace is far superior to the military violence and oppression of imperial Pax Romana because it belongs to and enacts the life-of-the-age marked by unfailing divine presence, abundance, and love (14:27). This hostility of the outgroup world (synagogue; Roman Empire) takes the form of persecution. Again the ingroup is defined in terms of collective victimhood, participants with Jesus in experiencing suffering at the hands of the hateful outgroup world. The ingroup is to negotiate this hostility with courage and in imitation of Jesus’s overcoming of the world by obedience to his Father’s will, even crucifixion (the practice of dying for another, 15:13), by which means Jesus is lifted up to return to God.

Jesus’s Prayer for the Ingroup (17:1–26) Jesus’s farewell testament to his ingroup concludes with a prayer to God for his ingroup. The act of prayer makes explicit the cosmic forces at work in the conflict and competition between the two groups: the ingroup’s alignment with God and the outgroup’s alliance with the evil one (17:15). The opening five verses position the prayer in relation to Jesus’s imminent crucifixion and return to the Father. In so doing, they continue the dialectic of Jesus’s absence from, yet ongoing presence with, the ingroup. Jesus affirms he has faithfully completed his revealing work in his earthly ministry. He prays that the hour of his crucifixion and departure to his Father will manifest God’s presence and reveal Jesus’s God-given authority over all people as well as the gift of life-of-the-age to those whom God has given him (17:1, 4–5). This gift means knowing God and Jesus, core privileges and benefits of the ingroup and knowledge withheld from the outgoups (17:2–3). In vv. 6–8, his prayer categorizes the ingroup as recipients of God’s revelatory work which Jesus, sent from God, has carried out. Members of the ingroup are “given” by God out of the hostile world. They recognize or believe Jesus as God’s commissioned agent, and do God’s will. These features identify God’s work and Jesus’s revelation of God as the origin of the ingroup, locating them in the cosmic purposes of God. He names the privileges of the ingroup and differentiates it from outgroups to whom knowledge of God is denied. Jesus prays for this community again identifying it as originating in and belonging to God, thereby affirming its origin shared with himself and its experience of life-of-the-age (17:3, 9–10). He specifically does not pray for the outgroup world to whom he had a mission in seeking to save it but which rejected him (17:9). Accordingly, he prays for his ingroup followers that God will protect them and keep them in oneness with each other and with God and Jesus since they remain in the hostile and rejecting world while Jesus leaves that world in departing to his Father (17:11). Jesus protected all of them while he was present with them in the world—with one exception, Judas, who was destined to betray Jesus (17:12). This presentation of Judas as destined to betray 202

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Jesus enfolds his actions within the purposes of God (the scriptures) and thereby removes responsibility and agency from both Judas (the devil made him do it, 13:27) and Jesus. The ingroup needs protecting not only because Jesus leaves them to depart to God (17:13), but because the world hates them because they belong to Jesus. This identity divides Jesus and his ingroup from the murderous hostility of the outgroup. As at 15:18–22 and 16:33, Jesus’s suffering at the hands of the outgroup world is prototypical of that which his ingroup followers experience. Again, the phenomenon of collective victimhood is evident, the ingroup mindset that arises when a group understands another group to be a source of harm to it (Bar-Tal et al, “Victimhood”). The belief of collective victimhood draws on past acts of suffering and is often to be undeserved and unjust. Here the categorization of collective victimhood is associated with and originates from the maltreatment or persecution of Jesus whose death the hateful world (the Jerusalem authorities and Roman governor) is about to effect in the narrative but which was accomplished in the ingroup’s past. The ingroup categorizes itself as a continuing target for harm because of this past action against Jesus and its ongoing present association with Jesus whom the Father sent but whom the world rejected, hated, and killed. The self-identification ascribes responsibility to the outgroup because of the outgroup’s previous action against Jesus. Jesus prays not that God will remove the ingroup disciples from the hostile outgroup but that God will protect them from the power of the evil one with whom the outgroup is aligned (17:15; cf. 8:42–44). The evil one had claimed Judas, and Jesus has recognized the ingroup’s vulnerability and predicted they will abandon him (16:32–33). Again Jesus recognizes the ingroup is distinct from the outgroup world (17:16) and prays that God will set them apart from the world (its values and practices?) even as they continue Jesus’s witnessing mission to and in the world (17:17–19; compare 16:8–11). Jesus anticipates further recruits for the ingroup from this witnessing activity and prays for them in their participation in the oneness and mutual indwelling of Father and Son. Twice the purpose of the current unity of the ingroup with Jesus and God is asserted to be a witness to the hostile world and a means by which it might believe in Jesus as sent by God and revealer of God’s love (17:21, 24). Twice God’s love for Jesus is claimed (17:23–24). The oneness of God and Jesus is a prototype of the oneness of the ingroup with God and Jesus (17:20–24). The ultimate destiny and reward for the ingroup, as for Jesus, is cosmic and theocentric—to be with Jesus in glory with God in a return to Jesus’s circumstances “in the beginning with God” (1:1; 17:24). The concluding two verses rehearse ingroup beliefs and privileges. The outgroup world does not know God. Jesus knows God, as does the ingroup because it understands Jesus as sent by God to reveal God. This revelation comprises not just information about God but the intimate experience of God’s love.

Jesus’s Prototypicality in Opposition to Rome and His Crucifixion, Burial (18:1–19:42) Without a pause, the Gospel moves from Jesus’s farewell instructions to his ingroup (chs 13–17) to narrate Jesus’s execution by the outgroup world.

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Jesus’s arrest occurs in a familiar garden in the Kidron Valley (18:1–2). The outgroup alliance of Judas the ingroup betrayer, Roman soldiers (from Pilate?), and police representing the Jerusalem leaders (chief priests, Pharisees) await Jesus with lights and weapons (18:3). Consistent with the previous emphasis on Jesus’s death as his laying down his life rather than begin surprised or defeated by the outgroup (10:19), Jesus knows what is to happen and identifies himself with the words of divine revelation (“I am he”), thereby overwhelming his opponents who fall to the ground (18:5–7). He demands that his ingroup not be detained and rebukes Peter’s swordstriking, ear-removing action, affirming that he must do God’s will. In arresting Jesus, ironically, the outgroup performs God’s will (18:12). Jesus is taken to Annas, father-in-law of the high priest Caiaphas (18:13–14). Annas questions Jesus about his followers and his teaching—a question Jesus deflects—and sends Jesus to Caiaphas (18:19–24). These scenes are interspersed with two scenes in which Peter denies being associated with Jesus (18:15–18, 25–27). The denial confirms Jesus’s previous predictions of Peter’s betrayal (13:36–38), again highlighting Jesus’s control of the circumstances of his death. This is the means of his return to God; it is not the outgroup’s victory over him. Jesus is taken to the Roman governor Pilate (18:28–19:16). Pilate, the face of colonizing Roman power, shuttles back and forth between Jesus and his Jewish allies, the provincial ruling elite, as he seeks to establish his dominance. Continuing the antipathy of the world outgroup to Jesus, the scene presents Jesus as a six-featured prototype of maximum ingroup opposition to imperial power (Hogg; Carter, “Social Identities,” 240–48). This prototype emerged in the Gospel’s opening scene (1:1–18) and draws together central attributes of the ingroup identity constructed throughout the narrative and in contrast with outgroup characteristics. Predictably, the first feature comprises antithetical interaction between Jesus and Pilate, reflective of the ingroup-outgroup binary throughout the narrative. Roman soldiers arrest Jesus (18:3, 12); Jesus appears before Governor Pilate (18:28–30); the outgroup labels Jesus with the pejorative term “evil doer” or “criminal” thereby positioning him as an outsider and themselves as the ingroup (18:30). Pilate has him whipped (19:1), his soldiers mock Jesus (19:2–3), and Pilate condemns him to death by crucifixion (19:16). Crucifixion is the ultimate gesture of societal exclusion exercised by the ruling powers. It is the logical outcome of the outgroup’s consistent rejection of Jesus throughout the Gospel (19:16). The societal outgroup thereby asserts an “ingroup” identity even though Jesus has consistently insisted his death is not his defeat but the means of his return to God (10:18; 18:31–32). Pilate’s apparent reluctance to crucify Jesus reflects divisions and tension within this ingroup/ outgroup. His reluctance is an act, a performance, as the involvement of his soldiers in Jesus’s arrest (18:3, 12) and his whipping of Jesus indicate (19:1). It is part of the tensive outgroup interactions between the Roman governor and his Jerusalem allies whereby the parties struggle with one another for power only for Pilate to subordinate them and render them dependent on him (18:31; 19:4–6). His supremacy is reflected in their having to beg him to crucify Jesus (19:12–16; Carter, John, 218–314). The second attribute of Jesus’s prototypicality comprises his exclusive commitment to God’s rule. This commitment secures the ingroup-outgroup, God-Rome binary. The issue is named in Pilate’s first question to Jesus concerning his identity: “Are you King of the Jews?” (18:33). Since Rome alone sanctioned legitimate provincial kings, this question asks Jesus if he is an insurrectionist and is guilty of treason in proclaiming himself a king. To claim to be 204

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an unsanctioned (by Rome) king is to oppose the emperor (19:12) which results in crucifixion (19:16). Pilate taunts his allies, “the Jews,” by parading Jesus as “your King,” which elicits from them a confession that their only king is the emperor (19:12–15). They thereby renounce their covenant identity in relationship to God, Israel’s king. Jesus’s response to Pilate denies he receives his kingship from, or that he belongs to, the world, the opponents of God’s purposes (18:36). He is God’s son and agent. The third attribute of Jesus’s prototypicality comprises nonviolence. He identifies the kingship that derives from, and belongs to, the outgroup world as marked by violence (18:36 so 18:3). The fact that his ingroup does not employ violence attests its origin from God. And nonviolence is the praxis of the ingroup in its interactions with the imperial outgroup in contrast to the outgroup’s predilection for violence (7:32, 44 8:59; 11:50–51; 12:10). Synagogues are also constructed as realms of violence against Jesus’s followers in planning to kill them as an act of worship (16:1–3). The fourth attribute of Jesus’s prototypicality comprises bearing witness to the truth. Asked by Pilate if he is a king, Jesus declares his commitment to bear witness to truth in the hostile outgroup world (18:37). The truth to which he witnesses is God acting faithfully to save the outgroup world through Jesus (3:17, 33). God’s accomplishing of God’s purposes means Rome’s loss of power, status, privilege, and identity and so it seeks in vain to remove this threat. The fifth attribute concerns Jesus’s words. Ingroup members listen to them while outgroup figures like Pilate do not listen (18:37b). Throughout, Jesus’s words have been a means of his work of revealing God (14:10). They grant life or condemnation (5:24–25, 28–29). They effect abundant food (2:5–10; 6:9–13) and healing (5:8; 9:7). They raise Lazarus from the dead (11:43–44). Throughout, the outworld opponents reject his words (6:41–42, 52; 8:47–48; 10:21 etc.). Pilate aligns with the Jerusalem leaders in arresting and killing Jesus (18:3, 12). The sixth attribute of Jesus’s prototypicality attests God’s superior power. Pilate asks the central Gospel question about Jesus’s origin. Jesus has affirmed his origin from God (1:1–2; 3:34–35; 6:37–38) but others have struggled to discern Jesus’s origin (6:41–42; 7:25–29). To oppose Jesus is to come from the devil (8:39–47). In response to Pilate’s question, Jesus remains silent, the classic pose of the powerless (19:9). Pilate interprets Jesus’s silence as defiance and seeks to intimidate him by reminding Jesus of his power over him to be exercised in his crucifixion (19:10). Jesus responds by placing Pilate’s power in the perspective of God’s greater and permissive power, that Pilate has no power over him except that which God has given to him (19:11). Pilate is, in fact, God’s unwitting servant in securing Jesus’s “lifting up” and return to God. Jesus’s crucifixion, ordered by Pilate (19:16), exposes the limits of Rome’s power (Rome can’t keep him dead) as well as the extent to which it will go to reject the one whom God sent. These six characteristics of Jesus’s prototypicality in relation to imperial power demonstrate the ingroup’s uncompromising opposition to imperial power. There is no compatibility between Pilate and Jesus, between Rome and God, between the ingroup and the outgroup. Superior power is located with God and claimed for the ingroup even as Jesus’s crucifixion is being executed. Does the starkness of the textually constructed identity reflect or create actual identity and practice vis-à-vis the empire? Verses 17–42 narrate Jesus’s crucifixion, death, and burial. The outgroup crucify Jesus as a societal outsider and threat as a rebel “king of the Jews.” Pilate insists on a titulus on the cross proclaiming this offensive identity in three languages. Soldiers divide his clothing (19:17–25). 205

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Also at the cross are ingroup members, three women including Jesus’s mother and the “disciple whom Jesus loved” (19:25–27). Jesus’s mother was present at Jesus’s first “sign” at the wedding at Cana (2:1–11). The beloved disciple was present for Jesus’s farewell testament (chs 13–17) including Jesus’s prediction of Judas’s betrayal, the commandment to love, the recognition of the world’s continuing hate, and the presence of the Spirit with the community after Jesus’s departure. The two ingroup figures recall key dimensions of Jesus’s revelation and shape the ingroup’s continuing witness and life. Jesus’s death is framed in terms of Jesus’s control. The outgroup does not take his life; he gives it up calmly and trusting God as a martyr (19:30; 10:18). He is presented as knowing that “all was now finished,” that he has completed the mission of revelation that God had entrusted him (4:34; 5:36; 19:28). He asks for a drink, citing Ps 69, a Psalm in which a suffering person seeks deliverance from enemies. Jesus’s deliverance comes in being “lifted up” through crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension to return to God. Verses 31–42 narrate Jesus’s removal from the cross and his burial. The association with Passover, repeated at the beginning and end of the scene, evokes God’s deliverance of the people from Egyptian oppression and slavery, providing an analogy with and promise for deliverance of the ingroup from Roman power portended in Jesus’s resurrection. The reference to the fulfillment of scripture maintains the perspective that Jesus’s death is not the outgroup’s victory (19:36–37). Joseph, a secret believer, boldly asks Pilate for Jesus’s body in order to bury it in a new and unused tomb (19:38–42). Similarly, Nicodemus brings a huge quantity of spices, a hundred pounds, for Jesus’s burial. Both actions suggest that Joseph and Nicodemus are ambiguous characters, sympathetic to Jesus in seeking to honor him with a good burial but neither fully comprehending nor committed to him as ingroup members. Hakola (140–43) suggests the ambiguity reflects a more complex social situation than the strict binary of ingroup and outgroup that the narrative constructs. The narrative recategorizes Joseph and Nicodemus because they do not fit the outgroup stereotype of murderous hostility. Instead they constitute a subtype of characters who are not typical or representative of the outgroup. They are deviants that depart from the outgroup stereotype. This subtyping recognizes some variation among the outgroup but does not collapse the central stereotype of murderous and violent hostility. In fact, the contrast reinforces the outgroup stereotype and dichotomy with the believing and oppressed ingroup.

Jesus Appears and Defines a Prototypical Believer and a Group Norm (20:1–31) The chapter presents a series of resurrection scenes. The outgroup’s murderous hostility and rejection of Jesus cannot keep Jesus dead. The worst that imperial power can do by way of killing someone who threatens the status quo as an unsanctioned provincial king is exposed as ineffective in the competition with superior divine power. The opening scene, however, is hardly a triumphant and glorious proclamation of resurrection power (20:1–10). There is no description of the act of resurrection or of any resurrection appearance. Rather there is, as Mary Magdalene, Simon Peter, and the disciple whom Jesus loved

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attest, a mysterious empty tomb. An editorial comment explains that these ingroup members did not understand that Jesus would rise from the dead. The next scene, however, constructs Mary Magdalene as a prototypical believer in the resurrected Jesus. She weeps outside the tomb because, she thinks, Jesus’s body has been taken from the tomb (20:2, 11). She encounters two angels in the tomb and explains her tears to them concerning Jesus’s absent body (20:13). She then sees, but does not recognize, the risen Jesus. Mistaking him for the gardener, she asks the same question about Jesus’s absent body though it stands directly before her (20:15). Jesus’s question—whom are you looking for?—resembles his question to the first disciples (1:38), establishing continuity between his pre- and postcrucifixion activity. Throughout, Mary’s assumption is that Jesus is dead and stays dead. She has no understanding of Jesus’s resurrection. As an ingroup member, she behaves more like an outgroup member. Her ambiguous identity mirrors that of Joseph and Nicodemus who, though apparently outgroup members, are sympathetic to Jesus but also do not expect resurrection (cf. 19:38–42). The strict binary of ingroup and outgroup is momentarily blurred. Tears and frustrated questing, however, give way to insight and joy when Jesus addresses her by name (20:16). In so doing he is the good shepherd who addresses his sheep or ingroup members by name and whose sheep recognize his voice (10:3–4, 14, 27). Jesus declares Mary must not hold him because his return to “my/your Father/God” is not yet accomplished. Rather he commissions her to be the first proclaimer of the resurrection, telling her to announce to the ingroup that she has encountered the risen Lord (20:17–18). She is entrusted with the ingroup norm of bearing witness. Later that day, the first day of the week, Jesus appears to members of the ingroup (20:19– 23). The ingroup is presented as fearful, locked in a house, fearing “the Jews,” the Jerusalem authorities who had allied with the Roman governor Pilate in executing Jesus. Their fearful pose suggests they have not listened to Mary’s proclamation and/or have not found it to be encouraging or strengthening. Nor, it seems, have they found Jesus’s warnings about the world’s hatred and persecution, and their shared collective victimhood with him, to have prepared them for this situation (15:18–22; 16:33). Passing through the locked door, Jesus stands in their midst, greets them, and shows them his wounded hands and side. Jesus bestows four gifts on his ingroup. The first is the gift of peace (14:27). This is not Pax Romana, the peace of dominating Roman power that designates the submission of the other, its military conquest, and payment of tax and tribute. Jesus’s peace for the ingroup is far superior because it belongs to and enacts the life-of-the-age marked by divine presence, abundance, and love. The second gift is a commission to continue Jesus’s mission of revealing God’s life-giving purposes in a hostile, hateful, persecuting world (20:21b). This task involves both the transmission of Jesus’s words as well as the performance of the sorts of works Jesus did in healings, supplying food, and ensuring abundant life (14:12). The third gift is that of the Spirit which Jesus promised repeatedly in his farewell speech (14:16–17, 26; 15:26–27; 16:5b–11, 12–15). The fourth gift is that of offering forgiveness. The supreme sin in John’s Gospel is rejecting Jesus as the revealer of God. Forgiveness, then, is a consequence of the ingroup’s mission of the revelation of God to the outgroup world whereby the world embraces the offered salvation and joins the privileged ingroup rather than being condemned in judgment (3:17–21).

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Absent from this gathering is Thomas. Other ingroup members testify to him that they have seen the risen Jesus but Thomas is unconvinced. He demands to see and touch the wounds of Jesus’s hands and side (20:24–25). A week later the risen Jesus meets his demand. Thomas confesses belief in the revelation of God in Jesus, an ingroup confessional norm. While Jesus acknowledges Thomas’s belief, he speaks a beatitude on those who do not see Jesus and yet believe. This beatitude affirms the belief of those who join the ingroup after Jesus’s ascension (20:26–29). The Gospel seems to end with an acknowledgment of many other signs that Jesus performed. It declares the purpose of the account that its audience receive the benefit of revelation of God in Jesus and gain the supreme gift of life-of-the age that belongs to privileged ingroup members (20:30–31).

Jesus Recognized and Ingroup Restored (21:1–25) Another appearance of the risen Jesus follows (21:1–14). It seems that the ingroup has collapsed in Jesus’s absence and has rejoined the imperial outgroup. The warnings from Jesus in chs 13–17 that he must return to God, that his ingroup will face opposition, and that the Spirit will be with them, do not seem to have strengthened them. This scene involves seven male ingroup members and is set at the Sea of Tiberias (21:1). This name for the Sea of Galilee (6:1; cf. 6:23) evokes Emperor Tiberius and denotes that the sea, like the land of the empire, is under imperial control. What is true of Tiberius as “lord of sea and land” was true of Augustus (Res Gestae 3, 13) and will be true of Vespasian (Josephus B.J. 3.401–02; Domitian, Philostratus, Apollonius 7.3).The ingroup has abandoned Jesus and returned to the emperor’s domain. This imperial location is reinforced by Peter’s declaration that he is going fishing (21:3). Peter is not declaring an afternoon of recreational fishing. Joined by the others, he returns to his previous life comprising his fishing business with its imperially issued licenses, contracts, and taxes. Going fishing participates in the imperial economy. They have abandoned their ingroup identity. Their fishing is unproductive. Jesus appears and, unrecognized, orders another effort which is very productive (21:4–6). Then the “disciple whom Jesus loved” recognized Jesus and informed Peter. Jesus prepares breakfast and the other ingroup members recognize him (21:9–14). Ingroup identity is restored. After the breakfast-revelation scene, Jesus confronts Peter three times with the question “do you love me?” Three times Peter affirms his love for Jesus, an ingroup norm, and three times Jesus commissions Peter to care for Jesus’s sheep (recalling 10:1–18). The threefold questioning restores Peter to the ingroup, counters the shame of his threefold denials of Jesus (13 38; 18:17, 25–27), and installs Peter as an ingroup leader. Consistent with the previous declarations of the world’s hatred and rejection for Jesus and his followers (an identity of collective victimhood), Jesus predicts Peter’s death (21:18–19). Peter’s elevation raises questions about the beloved disciple’s status and role. Peter asks Jesus about a disciple and draws an enigmatic response from Jesus (21:20–23). If “the disciple who is testifying to these things” in v. 24 is “the beloved disciple,” his witness undergirds the Gospel 208

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narrative and guarantees its reliability. Jesus’s aligning of the two key figures of Peter and “the beloved disciple” as his witnesses asserts the ingroup’s superordinate identity based on Jesus. The writing seeks to strengthen ingroup identity and its continuing mission in the world.

References Bar-Tal, D. Group Beliefs: A Conception for Analyzing Group Structure, Processes and Behavior. New York: Springer, 1990. Bar-Tal, D., L. Chernyak-hai, N. Shori, and A. Gundar. “A Sense of Self-Perceived Collective Victimhood in Intractable Conflicts.” International Review of the Red Cross 91 (2009): 229–58. Brown, R. The Community of the Beloved Disciple. New York: Paulist, 1979. Carter, W. John: Storyteller, Interpreter, Evangelist. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2006. Carter, W. John and Empire: Initial Explorations. New York: T&T Clark, 2008. Carter, W. “Social Identities, Subgroups, and John’s Gospel: Jesus the Prototype and Pontius Pilate (John 18:28—19:16).” Pages 235–51 in T&T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London: T&T Clark, 2014. Dube, M. “Reading for Decolonization (John 4:1–42).” Pages 51–75 in John and Postcolonialism: Travel, Space and Power. Edited by M. Dube and J. Staley. London: Sheffield, 2002. Esler, P. “From Ioudaiou to Children of God.” Pages 106–37 in In Other Words: Essays on Social Science Methods & the New Testament in Honor of Jerome Neyrey. Edited by A. Hagedorn, Z. Crook, and E. Stewart. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2007. Esler, P. “An Outline of Social Identity Theory.” Pages 13–39 in T&T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London: T&T Clark, 2014. Garnsey, P. Food and Society in Classical Antiquity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999. Hakola, R. Reconsidering Johannine Christianity: A Social Identity Approach. New York: Routledge, 2015. Hogg, M. “A Social Identity Theory of Leadership.” Personality and Social Psychology Review 5 (2001): 184–200. Hogg, M., and D. Abrams. Social Identifications: A Social Psychology of Intergroup Relations. and Group Processes. London: Routledge, 1988. Hogg, M., and S. Reid. “Social Identity, Self-Categorization, and the Communication of Group Norms.” Communication Theory 16 (2006): 7–30. Hornsey, M. J., and M. Hogg. “Assimilation and Diversity: An Integrative Model of Subgroup Relations.” Personality and Social Psychology Review 4 (2000): 143–56. Martyn, J. L. History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel. 3rd ed. Nashville: Abingdon, 2003. Tajfel, H. Human Groups and Social Categories: Studies in Social Psychology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981. Tajfel, H., and J. C. Turner, “The Social Identity Theory of Intergroup Behavior.” Pages 7–24 in Psychology of Intergroup Relations. 2nd ed. Edited by S. Worchel and W. G. Austin. Chicago: NelsonHall, 1986. Toner, J. Popular Culture in Ancient Rome. Cambridge: Polity, 2009. Turner, J. et al. Rediscovering the Social Group: Self-Categorization Theory. Oxford: Blackwell, 1987. Wohl, M., and N. Branscombe. “Forgiveness and Collective Guilt Assignment to Historical Perpetrator Groups Depend on Level of Social Category Inclusiveness.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 88 (2005): 288–303.

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Chapter  6

Acts Aaron Kuecker

Introduction The book of Acts self-consciously begins where Luke left off. Whether the two texts are written by the same author (my own view and the view that retains majority support in New Testament studies) or written by a different author, the text begins with a chain-link transition that auspiciously positions Acts as the continuation of Luke (Longenecker, 166–67). The surprising link between the two volumes is the ascension, and absence, of the resurrected Lord Jesus and Jesus’s promise of the Spirit (Luke 24:49 and Acts 1:4–5, 8). The departure of Jesus and the arrival of the Spirit thus form a significant seam in Luke-Acts, and the chain-link transition is a structural clue that the Spirit will continue the story of Jesus. Readers of Luke, though, will not be surprised at this narrative coalescence. Jesus was uniquely empowered by the Spirit for his identity as Son of the Most High. In Luke’s Gospel, we learned that the Son of the Most High leveraged power, status, and resources not for selfish exploitation but for the flourishing of others. Jesus’s followers are invited to participate in Jesus’s identity, as children of the Most High, particularly as they exercise enemy love and radical generosity. Jesus is the exemplar of this identity, and Jesus’s followers have—at best—mixed success in adopting Jesus’s pattern of identity vis-à-vis others. Acts continues to unfold an identity marked by enemy love and radical generosity. But with the absence of Jesus and the formation of the earliest communities of Jesus-followers, that becomes an even more explicitly social identity. That is, the exemplary way of life of Jesus is inscribed upon the patterns of the early Jesus-following communities. Those communities are faced with intra- and intergroup challenges. The former arise when diversity within the group tests the centrality of Jesus as the orienting identity marker. The latter arise when the group encounters individuals or groups from other ethnic, socioeconomic, or socio-linguistic groups. In both cases, the Spirit draws Jesus-followers into participation in a surprising kind of social group capable of ingroup love and outgroup love, simultaneously. This Spirit-empowered practice is the socially modulated expression of the radical generosity and enemy love central to identity as a child of the Most High. For Luke, this sort of love, and the social identity rooted in that love, is not a human potentiality apart from the working of the Spirit. Throughout Acts, groups who do not follow Jesus exercise intergroup differentiation that results in violence. Jesus-groups, when in step with the Sprit, leverage their power, status, and resources for the flourishing of others. The result of the Spirit’s work is the formation of a new type of community possessing a trans-ethnic superordinate social identity, centered on Jesus, and retaining ethnic particularity at a subgroup level.

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Author, Date, Occasion I consider Luke-Acts the two-volume work of a single author. Please refer to the introductory material on Luke’s Gospel in this volume for a discussion of these issues.

Major Theological Themes Acts has numerous theological themes that will emerge across the span of this commentary. Most prominently, the text is concerned with the formation of the community of Jesus-followers through person and work of the Holy Spirit. There are multiple ramifications to this basic claim. First, Acts is interested in the ascension of Jesus, Jesus’s ongoing ministry, and the relationship of the Spirit to the ascended Lord Jesus. Second, because the life of the early community is set within (1) the diverse context of the Roman Empire and (2) the covenantal history of Israel, Acts is deeply concerned with the relationship between Israel’s covenantal privilege and nonIsraelites. The mission of God to all peoples places the Jesus-group in contact with all manner of (sometimes hostile) ethnic others. To navigate these often intractable social boundaries, the Spirit creates a community with an allocentric identity that transcends ethnic hegemonies, but staunchly defends the necessity of ethnic particularity at a subgroup level. Much of the narrative drama in Acts centers on the intersections and dynamics surrounding these social boundaries. Finally, Acts retains Luke’s interest in the exemplary practices of Jesus described in the gospel. Namely, Acts focuses on the way the life of the community is marked by enemy love and radical generosity. As such, Acts pays great attention to the use of resources and power, and all of this in the context of the practices of other Israelite and Roman power-holders. The entire narrative is presented as an extended reflection on the kingdom of God, which—over the course of two volumes—unfolds as a radical subversion of Roman (and some Israelite) conceptions of power.

Social Identity Approach Social identity theory provides a number of important heuristic tools for our reading of Acts: (1) exemplarity and ingroup identity, (2) identity threat and ingroup bias, (3) intergroup reconciliation through the formation of a superordinate identity that retains subgroup particularity, and (4) resource distribution and identity-based entitlement. Briefly, the following can be said about each of these features of SIT. (1) While ingroup identity is often forged by positive evaluation of a group in light of a proximate outgroup, that process can sometimes be problematic. Because positive evaluation of the ingroup often is paired with negative evaluation of outgroups, ingroup love and outgroup derogation are close counterparts. SIT also shows that proximity to an exemplar is a route toward the construction of identity. In Acts, the Jesus-group functions largely through Spirit-empowered proximity to the exemplary practices of Jesus. Outgroups generally function through intergroup differentiation and outgroup derogation. (2) Identity threat has predictable effects on vulnerable groups. In particular, identity threat in situations where group affiliation is high often functions to increase ingroup bias—and often the correlate outgroup

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derogation. The Jesus-group in Acts, though, shows remarkable ability—even under threat—to exercise ingroup love and outgroup love simultaneously. (3) The reconciliation of social groups with intractable identity distinction—often at the level of ethnic identity—has been one of the motivating concerns of social identity theorists. Particular promise has been shown in situations where a superordinate identity, with retention of subgroup salience, can be formed. In Acts, we will see just such a reconciliation, as the Jesus-group—by the Spirit’s work—emerges as a superordinate identity that retains ethnic particularity at a penultimate level. (4) SIT shows that groups tend to distribute resources to ingroup members or those most closely related to group prototypes. In Acts, resources are leveraged both for members of the ingroup and on behalf of members of outgroups. This is a subversion of typical identity processes.

Use of Ethnic Language in This Text Luke carefully preserves socially accurate group categories throughout the text. My translations of the Greek ethnē, Ioudaioi, and Israēlitai are intended to reflect the social realities that they describe. In particular, I try to track Luke’s convention of using “Israelite” as an intra-ethnic term used only when those who self-identify as Israelites are with other ethnic Israelite kin. Luke uses “Judean” as a category name given by Rome to the people who inhabit the region of Judea. Israelites never use this category in Israelite-only contexts, but always use it in ethnically mixed contexts. ethnē is an Israelite word for the outgroup that is literally translated “nations” or “peoples,” but in its Israelite deployment is most accurately rendered “non-Israelites.” Finally, though there are challenges with this decision, I have mostly retained the gendered translations of “brothers” and “fathers,” rather than more recent renderings such as “friends,” “believers,” or “ancestors.” The former, in my judgment, more easily captures the consanguinity so essential in the ethnic reasoning within Luke’s social contexts. I hasten—quickly and emphatically—to add that Luke’s treatment of gender makes it obvious that terms like “brothers” and “fathers” can (and usually do) include women and men. Luke, as much as any New Testament author, sees women as indispensable participants in and leaders for the Jesus-group.

Commentary The Spirit Creates an Allocentric Social Identity Manifest in Communal Practices (Acts 1:1–2:47) (1:1–11) The Spirit Activates Allocentric Identity and Orchestrates Intergroup Contact Acts 1:1 identifies the text as a continuation of the Jesus-story from Luke’s Gospel. Earlier in this volume, I suggest that Luke’s intention was to provide “certainty” (asphaleia, Luke 1:4) to Theophilus and, presumably, other hearers. This was necessary because membership in the Jesusgroup carried identity implications that created social vulnerability within the Roman Empire. I suggest Luke’s Gospel purports to make plausible and intelligible the practices of the community

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gathered around Jesus, thus granting Theophilus a level of “certainty” that the social dislocation stemming from membership in the Jesus-group was, at least, not illogical. I presume that the force of this intent continues in Acts, though I also suggest that—having shown the plausibility of the way of Jesus—Luke turns more radically to show its social implications in intergroup contexts in the book of Acts. The coherence between Luke and Acts is located in (1) the structural chain-link transitions that foreground the ascension of Jesus and the promise of the Spirit and (2) Acts’ focus on the teaching and actions of Jesus up through the ascension (1:1–2). The structural moves in 1:1–2 weave together Jesus’s absence, the Spirit’s presence, and the ongoing resonance of Jesus’s way of life. As Acts progresses, it will become clear that it is the Spirit who draws Jesus-following communities into Jesus’s exemplary way of life. Where the Spirit is, the way of Jesus is active. Where the way of Jesus is active, radical generosity and enemy love mark the ingroup. Where radical generosity and enemy love mark the ingroup, the group flourishes and intransigent intergroup boundaries are navigated. Jesus’s teaching about the kingdom of God (1:3) is received by the apostles in a predictable manner. SIT demonstrates that groups tend to allocate resources on the basis of social homogeneity, so when the apostles interpret Jesus’s statement about the reign of God to be an indication of the restoration of the sociopolitical kingdom of Israel (1:6), it is not surprising (Wenzel et al., 461). Just as the Nazareth villagers in Luke 4:16–30 assumed their shared village identity with Jesus meant privileged access to the goods of his ministry, so also the apostles assumed that benefits of God’s reign were Israel-centric, if not Israel-exclusive. The utilization of “Israel” by the disciples (1:6) is immediate evidence of their high ethnic ingroup affiliation. Jesus’s redirection of the apostles’ question in 1:7–8 accomplishes three things: (1) it defers all temporal claims about the kingdom of God, (2) it initiates a social identity as “witnesses” for the apostles, an identity made possible by the Spirit, and (3) it anticipates surprising intergroup, interethnic contact. Jesus’s response in 1:7–8 is nearly universally taken as programmatic for Acts, and that programmatic force largely lies not in eschatological timeline concerns but in the intergroup encounters 1:8 anticipates. Jesus makes no claim about the timing of the kingdom (1:7), thus pushing off imminent speculation about the consummation of God’s kingdom. Instead, Jesus’s interest is upon the identity of his followers as “witnesses” (1:8), an apt designation for a decentered, allocentric identity. Witnesses point to something outside of themselves for the sake of people other than themselves. Identity as a witness can only stem from relatedness to another person or event. When Jesus identifies his followers as witnesses, he situates them in a position of dependence upon himself and in a posture that situates their identity as being for the sake of others. The ability of the community to function as “witnesses” will depend upon the empowering presence of the Holy Spirit (1:8). Here we begin to see the way Acts will connect the Spirit to a new identity capable of transcending intractable social barriers. This will be necessary because the Spirit’s work implicates the allocentric identity of the apostles in a variety of intra- and intergroup contexts. The twelve will take up “witness” identity for the sake of Jerusalemites, Judeans more broadly, Samaritans, and all non-Israelites. That is, their identity is for the sake of (1) residents of the city where Jesus was murdered, (2) residents of Judea—which Luke’s Gospel describes as more dangerous for the apostles than Galilee, (3) Samaritans, ancient ethnic antagonists, and (4) all other human beings. The exact referent for “ends of the earth” has been widely debated. 214

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Acts makes it clear that the narrative tension arises not around geography, but around social boundary crossings. Thus, “ends of the earth” presumably includes all social groups beyond Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria. The salience of regional identities such as Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria as potentially dangerous outgroups is highlighted by the apostles’ categorization as “Men of Galilee” (1:11) at the ascension of Jesus. The twelve are Galileans who are to bear witness to groups that are “other.” (1:12–26) The Jesus-Group Defaults to Ingroup Homogeneity before the Spirit Comes Luke’s description of the earliest community highlights the presence of women (“certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus” [1:14]), which indicates that social conventions were not in normal operation within this group. A complex set of social phenomena are evident in 1:15–26. First, Luke heightens ingroup identification by—for the first time—referring to the group as “sisters and brothers” (adelphoi). The use of kinship categories is prominent in Acts for ethnic kinfolk (e.g., 3:17). However, the categorical deployment by Luke rather than the vocative deployment (as in 1:16) at this point is tantalizing, pointing toward an emerging shared identity. Second, Peter sets Judas’s traitorous action in the context of this ingroup salience. Judas, whose heart had been filled by Satan (Luke 22:3), put Jesus and the ingroup at risk. Peter uses Psalms from the Israelite scriptures to explain Judas’s betrayal of the group, taking it upon himself to replace Judas. The criteria that Peter sets for Judas’s replacement is social homogeneity: the replacement must be “one of the men who have accompanied us throughout the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning with the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us—one of these must become a witness with us to his resurrection” (1:22–23). While social homogeneity is a common foundation for shared identity, Peter’s criteria raise the question as to whether it is affiliation with Jesus plus social homogeneity that can make one a part of the “witnesses,” or whether there are other factors that can make one a “witness.” There are multiple troubling features about Peter’s action that raise questions about whether Luke narrates Peter’s replacement of Judas with approval, ambivalence, or subtle disapproval. (1) The apostles we commanded to “wait [in Jerusalem] for the promise of the Father” (1:4). Peter goes beyond prayerful waiting and takes action prior to the Spirit’s arrival. (2) Peter assumes only the eleven apostles are welcomed into the identity “witnesses,” as he looks for one to share witness identity “with us” (1:24). (3) Peter’s criteria of social homogeneity for Judas’s replacement falls into the same trap as John’s concern about someone doing ministry in Jesus’s name while not following with the twelve (Luke 9:49–50). Jesus does not share John’s concerns. (4) The apostles use the decision-making method used by soldiers dividing Jesus’s garments: they cast lots. (5) Matthias, Judas’s replacement, is never again named in Acts. Taken together, these factors raise concern about Peter’s action, preemption of the Spirit’s arrival, and interest in social homogeneity. The remainder of Acts, beginning immediately in Acts 2, will clearly show that Peter’s criteria for shared ingroup identity are too constrained. (2:1–21) The Spirit Defends Ethnolinguistic Particularity, but Not as a Terminal Identity Terminal identity is the most significant social identity a person maintains. While a person can have any number of social identities, each made salient on the basis of intergroup contact, the terminal identity answers the question, “To what people do I belong?” (Cairns, 281). Terminal

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identities are often notoriously difficult to navigate in intergroup contexts. Ethnicity is one of the most powerful terminal identities, and history demonstrates how easily violence can flare at the boundary of ethnic identities (Kuecker, 35–39). In Acts, the Spirit will work at the boundaries of these challenging identities, and Pentecost launches this trajectory. The phenomena in 2:1–4 echo significant theophanies from Israel’s history. Wind (Gen 1:2; 8:1; Exod 14:21), fire (Exod 3:2; 19:18; 40:34–38), and the proliferation of languages (Gen 11:1–9) mark powerful acts of God and, for Luke’s hearers, make ethnic Israelite identity salient. Luke is emphatic that each of the 120 people (assuming 1:15) experienced the filling of the Spirit. Tongues of fire rested on “each of them” (2:3). “All of them” (2:4) were filled with the Spirit. It is absolutely noteworthy that both men and women received the gift promised by the Father. Clarity on the identities present in 2:1–11 is paramount for understanding the identity-forming significance of Pentecost. The Galilean-Israelite identity of at least some of the 120 is highlighted in 2:7. The crowd itself appears to be almost completely ethnic Israelites (“devout Judeans from every nation under heaven,” 2:5). While Pentecost readings commonly presume festival pilgrims constitute the crowd, Luke implies they are diaspora Israelites who have resettled in Jerusalem. 2:5 uses katoikountes, which indicates at least long-term residency. Its use can be contrasted with katamenō, which implies temporary residency. It was not uncommon for Israelites from the diaspora to return to Jerusalem, and some ossuary evidence includes the diaspora homeland of the occupants (Rahmani, 17). The list of nations in 2:9–11, then, is comprised of ethnic Israelites who have resettled from around the Roman Empire (including from the province of Judea), as well as Israelites and proselytes visiting from Rome. Proselytes, it must be remembered, were nonIsraelites who had undergone full ethnic conversion as part of their loyalty to the God of Israel. This could include circumcision, fidelity to the Mosaic Law, and adoption of a Hebrew name. While the Pentecost account does not cross an interethnic boundary, it is foundational for the formation of a superordinate identity that both defends and transcends ethnic particularity within the Jesus-group. To see this, we must understand first-century ethnolinguistic realities. Most inhabitants of the Roman Empire were bilingual, if not polylingual. In the eastern half of the empire, Aramaic was the common language of trade. Greek dominated the western half of the empire. While local tribes and people groups had their own languages, it was the trade languages that made travel, commerce, and social exchange possible across the empire. Roman Judea sat at the center of these two widely spoken trade languages. Evidence internal to Acts (Paul’s ability to speak both Greek and Aramaic [21:37, 40]) and external inscriptional evidence show the use of both languages in Jerusalem. Historically, the linguistic realities of the day strongly suggest that Israelites residing in Jerusalem would have understood either Greek or Aramaic. In other words, the disciples’ communication with the crowd was possible apart from the Spirit’s intervention. The text is emphatic that the crowd heard the 120 in “the native language of each,” “in our own native language,” and “in our own languages” (2:6, 8, 11). Verse 8, in Greek, is most emphatic, stating that each person in the crowd heard in the language in which they were born (tē idia dialekto en ‘ē egennēthēmen). The construction highlights these subgroup identities, a fact amplified by the identification of the 120 as Galileans (2:7). The initial appearance of the Spirit in Acts coincides with the proliferation of ethnolinguistic particularity. Rather than establish a prestige language or a root language for the early Jesusgroup, Luke makes it clear that only the work of the Spirit and the message of Jesus will form the basis for this new group, not ethnolinguistic homogeneity. 216

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This move is surprising for two reasons. (1) Pentecost is an ironic expansion of the Babel narrative. There, the proliferation of languages resulted in social division. We will see in 2:42–47 that the proliferation of languages is not a barrier to shared social identity. Second, first-century evidence indicates the increasing usage of Hebrew as a prestige language, along with emerging expectations that the Day of the Lord would bring a universal return to Hebrew (see 4Q464; Jubilees 12:25–27). The Spirit’s inspiration of speech in the birth languages of these Israelites is the initial indication that the Spirit will resist social homogeneity as the source of shared identity in the Jesus-group. Where the Spirit is active, social particularity is retained in a community of reconciled diversity. SIT has demonstrated that one particularly promising way to navigate difficult intergroup boundaries is through the formation of a superordinate identity that retains subgroup salience at a penultimate level (Dovidio et al.). This is a helpful heuristic for understanding the Spirit in Acts. The particularity of subgroup identities within the Jesus-group—especially the subgroup salience of ethnicity—testifies to Jesus’s lordship over all peoples. Jesus is no mere local or tribal deity. We will see that the exemplary enemy love and radical generosity that marked the life of Jesus, the life of God, and the followers of Jesus in Luke (6:35–36) are Spirit-enabled traits essential to the formation of an identity capable of transcending stubborn intergroup boundaries. The Jesus-group is formed by the expression of these exemplary traits and it fosters those traits. Peter’s Pentecost address shows his ongoing Israelite social identity. He addresses the crowd as “Judeans” (2:14), “Israelites” (2:22), and, finally, “brothers” (2:29). It is precisely from within his Israelite identity that Peter deploys Joel 3:1–5 LXX to identify the universal extent of the Spirit’s work as the central marker of identity for members of the Jesus-group. Peter narrates the falling of the Spirit as Joel’s hoped-for Day of the Lord. Earlier, the disciples had asked about the restoration of the kingdom to Israel (1:6). Peter now claims that the “last days” have dawned. While there is much to be said about the use of Joel 3:1–5 LXX in Acts 2:17–22, one feature is especially significant for the formation of social identity. Luke’s text adds the possessive “my” (mou) to the “male slaves” and “female slaves.” While in Joel 3:1–5 LXX the Spirit falls upon “slaves,” for Peter, the Spirit falls upon God’s slaves. In other words, slaves of God—both men and women—are marked by the Spirit. Throughout Acts, those who are marked by the Spirit or who exhibit the exemplary characteristics that Luke’s Gospel ascribes to the Spirit are seen to be members of the Jesus-group. The Spirit will help the community to understand, truly, that “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved” (2:21). (2:22–47) The Growing Community Exhibits the Exemplary Practices of Children of the Most High Several features of Peter’s sermon are important to Luke’s identity-forming program. First, Peter roots his sermon in the heart of Israelite covenantal identity. In what perhaps echoes Jesus’s Christological exegesis of the Hebrew Scriptures in Luke 24:27, 44–46, Peter reads Pss 16:8– 11 (Acts 2:25–27, 31) and 110:1 (Acts 2:34–35) in light of Jesus’s resurrection and ascension. The resurrection and ascension of Jesus are taken as powerful proof of Jesus’s identity as the Christ and the testimony of the Israelite scriptures to Jesus. Second, Peter’s sermon displays the enemy love called for in Luke’s Gospel. The sermon is framed by an awareness that the crowd—in some way—was complicit in events leading to Jesus’s death. In 2:23, he speaks of Jesus whom “you crucified and killed by the hands of those outside the law” and in 2:36 he speaks of Jesus, “whom you crucified.” The former situates the crowd as collaborators with 217

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Roman imperial overlords. And yet, though Jesus’s followers are vulnerable at the hands of these enemies, Peter does not exclude the crowd from possible participation within the Jesus-group. Peter generously invites the crowd to receive the very Spirit that was given to the Jesus-group: “Repent, and be baptized everyone one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise if for you, for your children, and for all who are far away, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him” (2:38–39). It is remarkable that Peter offers erstwhile enemies of Jesus an opportunity to join them in the Jesus-group! Third, the Pentecost sermon closely links the Spirit, submission to the lordship of Jesus, and identification with and participation in the Jesus-group. We have already learned that the Spirit marks God’s male slaves and female slaves (2:18), that Jesus pours out the Spirit (2:33), and that the Spirit is on offer to all who repent and are baptized in the name of Jesus (2:38). The seamless narrative progression from Peter’s invitation, through Luke’s narration of the baptism of three thousand persons (2:41), to the description of the early community establishes the Spirit as the motive power of the community. The narrative flow teaches us to expect that those who are baptized in the name of Jesus Christ will receive the Spirit that filled Jesus from conception. Fourth, the practices of the early community exhibit intense self-ascription and radical generosity. The community practices attention to the teaching of the apostles (2:42), intragroup relationships (2:42, 46), shared meals (and possibly early practices of the Eucharist) (2:42, 46), prayer (2:42), and shared worship (2:46–47). The intensity of these practices situates this community as an incubator for social identity. The significance of the early community for the formation of identity is underscored by the fact that Luke narrates descriptions of the communities three times early in Acts (2:42–47; 4:32–37; 5:12–16). Each community description follows a significant manifestation of the Spirit (2:1–41; 4:31–32) or equivocation of the Spirit with the early community (5:3). The unconditional availability of goods that Luke describes— practices whereby the community would sell possessions and give to the needy when need arose (2:44–45)—are clear examples of radical generosity. Throughout Luke’s Gospel, this radical generosity was central to Jesus’s exemplarity and to sharing Jesus’s identity as a child of the Most High. Here, activated by the Spirit, the early community exhibits corporate practices of radical generosity. The Pentecost account situates the Spirit as the central marker of identity for the Jesus-group, with Spirit-empowered characteristics of enemy love and radical generosity as subsidiary markers of that social identity. These characteristics make possible the approach to the other that allows for identity as a Jesus-follower to transcend (sometimes intransigent) social barriers.

Peter, John, and Barnabas Are Exemplars of Spirit-Formed Identity; Ananias and Sapphira Are Anti-exemplars (3:1–5:42) (3:1–26) Peter and John Exemplify Radical Generosity and Enemy Love Peter and John (and the earliest community with them) continue to practice exemplary Israelite piety throughout Acts, here going to the Jerusalem temple for prayer (3:1). Their participation in the Jesus-group does not necessitate a rejection of their Israelite identity. Their route to the temple brought them past a beggar asking for alms. While SIT demonstrates that groups tend to reserve resources for

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members of the ingroup (Wenzel, 317–18), Peter offers to the beggar the most valuable thing that he possesses—affiliation with the name of Jesus: “I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give you; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk” (3:6). As was the case with Jesus in Luke, Peter leverages his resources and status for the flourishing of the other—and this time, the flourishing of someone definitively outside of the Jesus-group. Peter’s expression of radical generosity unfolds as he addresses the astonished crowd. Though patronage cultures were marked by giving for the sake of recognition, status, or honor advancement, Peter defers honor to Jesus: “You that are Israelites, why do you wonder at this, or why do you stare at as, as though by our own power or piety we had made him walk” (3:12)? Peter connects the resurrection of Jesus to the work of the ancestral God of Israel, and the healing itself to faith that is “through Jesus” (3:16). Peter, like Jesus, refuses to use status or identity for selfish exploitation. Luke highlights the vulnerability of the Jesus-group at this juncture by again connecting the crowds, through their collaboration with Rome, to the crucifixion of Jesus (3:13–15). But rather than castigating the crowd for their complicity, he offers them the opportunity to join the Jesusgroup currently under threat by some Israelite power-holders and the Roman Empire. Peter ascribes the actions of the Israelites to ignorance (3:17), a grace he extends even to the “rulers” (3:17). Normal intergroup processes, especially for vulnerable low-status groups, typically result in intense outgroup differentiation. In light of this, Peter’s generous move toward enemies is striking. As was the case at Pentecost, Peter invites Israelites to join the Jesus-group “so that your sins may be wiped out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that he may send the Messiah appointed for you, that is, Jesus, who must remain in heaven until the time of universal restoration that God announced long ago through his holy prophets” (3:19–21). Peter’s extension of the benefits of the Jesus-group to potential enemies is poetic and moving. Peter’s invitation results from his reading of the covenantal history of Israel, with its trajectory of incorporation and outgroup blessing. Peter relies on an important messianic text from Deut 18:15 to establish Jesus as the “prophet like Moses” (3:22–23). He uses this text both to identify Jesus as the hope of Israel and to position Jesus as central to identity as a member of God’s people: “everyone who does not listen to that prophet will be utterly rooted out from the people” (3:23). Loyalty to Jesus, rather than consanguinity, is central to the identity Luke envisions. Covenantal identity is simultaneously for the sake of the ingroup and outgroup. Through Jesus, the descendants of Abraham are blessed (3:26) and through Abraham’s descendants “all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (3:25). Again, the resources and identity of the ingroup are leveraged for the flourishing of the other. (4:1–22) Identification with the Jesus-Group Leads to Social Vulnerability Peter’s and John’s generosity to the beggar and gathering crowds leads to their arrest for “teaching the people and proclaiming that in Jesus there is the resurrection of the dead” (4:2). The contrast between the use of power for the flourishing of others within the Jesus-group and the violent uses of power for self-preservation outside the Jesus-group is persistent in Acts. The ironic impotence of the violence enacted by “the priests, the captain of the temple, and the Sadducees” is evident in Luke’s statement that—in spite of violent suppression—“many who heard the word believed” (4:4). Just as the resurrection was an ironic undoing of the power of the politically well-positioned, here 219

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also power through violence is unmasked as ineffectual in light of God’s life-bringing action in the world. The Spirit makes a second explicit appearance in Acts when Peter and John are brought before the rulers, elders, scribes, and the high priest and his family. Empowered by the Spirit, Peter bears witness to the resurrection of Jesus. He refuses to leverage his status or identity for selfish exploitation, instead ascribing the healing miracle to Jesus (4:10). Peter again reads the life of Jesus through the scriptures of Israel (Ps 118:22), indicating not that God will reject those who crucified Jesus, but that those who crucified Jesus are at risk of rejecting God by not acknowledging Jesus (4:11). The Jerusalem power-holders are stymied by their fear of the crowds, who have witnessed healing in the name of Jesus. The leaders order Peter and John not to speak in Jesus’s name any longer (4:18, 21). Peter’s and John’s insistence that they will listen to the words of Jesus and not Israel’s elite heightens intragroup distinction among the ethnic Israelites in Luke’s story. (4:23–37) Barnabas Is an Exemplar for the Spirit-Created Community of Radical Generosity The community’s response to the first significant intergroup threat is a striking contribution to the “certainty” toward which Luke endeavors. The anger of rulers and non-Israelites is contrasted with the sovereignty of God the creator (4:24–27). In light of God’s power, the power of the rulers is mere shadow. The Jesus-group does not seek vengeance against enemies. Instead, they seek continued courage to enable the community to (1) speak the word of God with boldness (the very thing that power-holders had just commanded them not to do!), (2) to heal, and (3) to perform signs and wonders through the name of “your holy servant Jesus” (4:29). For the early community, the sovereignty of God displayed in the resurrection grants certainty to live the pattern of Jesus’s exemplary life. The contrast with the Jerusalem power-holders could not be clearer. The power-holders respond to identity threat with violence. The Jesus-group responds to identity threat by asking for courage to continue to invite enemies into their group and by asking God to extend flourishing through Jesus’s name. The third major manifestation of the Spirit occurs just as the community is asking for courage to leverage their resources and status for the sake of those outside the Jesus-group. For a second time, the communal outpouring of the Spirit precedes the description of a community whose corporate life exhibits radical generosity and significant ingroup solidarity. The group was “of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common . . . there was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold” (4:32, 34). The community’s radical generosity sought the good of the other, and not honor. The practice of laying gifts at the feet of the apostles for distribution (4:35) served to separate the gift from its giver, thus subverting reciprocity expectations inherent in Roman patronage and benefaction practices. Barnabas is introduced as a Spirit-empowered exemplar of these practices. He is the first named character to sell land and bring the proceeds to the apostles (4:37). This initial introduction of Barnabas as one whose life exemplifies Spirit-formed identity is important, as he will re-emerge multiple times as a character uniquely capable of embodying the social identity of the Jesusgroup. Not only does Barnabas practice exemplary generosity for the sake of the other, he is also given a name within the Jesus-community (4:36). This, too, solidifies his full identification with the young community. 220

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(5:1–11) The Spirit Is Radically Identified with the Community, of Which Ananias and Sapphira Are Anti-exemplars The story of Ananias and Sapphira is unnerving, but reading the story through the lens of SIT helps us see how far the couple had removed themselves from the exemplary practices of the community. Luke is emphatic that Ananias and Sapphira were interested in appearing exemplary, but that they deliberately cultivated appearances and not exemplary practice. Namely, they sold property and secretly reserved some proceeds for selfish gain (5:1–2). Peter’s response shows the couple to be outside the bounds of the community. First, he equates Ananias’s deception of the community with a lie to the Spirit, functionally equating the Spirit with the community (5:3). He sounds the same theme with Sapphira (5:9). To lie to the community is to lie to the Spirit. This is a profound identification of the Spirit and the community. Second, Peter accuses Ananias of having had his heart filled by Satan (5:3). In Luke, Satan coerces people to uses resources only for selfish gain (see Luke 4:1–13), to act only out of self-regard (Luke 22:31), or to sequester oneself from the Jesus-group by pursuing selfish gain at the expense of the ingroup (Luke 22:3–6). Here, we see again that Satan’s influence is toward egocentrism rather than allocentrism. Regardless of the agency associated with the deaths of this couple, it is important that Peter announces, but does not explicitly prescribe, the fate of Sapphira. Peter names their deception, but in Acts, only God can act in mortal judgment. Members of the Jesus-group are never permitted to usurp God’s role in judgment. SIT demonstrates that anti-exemplars, or black sheep, have a powerful identity-forming function. Their presence in a community, and their fate, can encourage stronger ingroup affiliation. The strength of judgments related to ingroup black sheep is intensified because their behavior (compared with behavior of outgroup members) has significant ramifications for social identity (Marques et al.). This phenomenon is evident in this text. Fear seized the church and all who heard about the couple’s fate (5:11). As we will see, this fear catalyzed more extensive identification with the Jesus-group. (5:12–42) The Jesus-Group Continues to Practice Enemy Love in Spite of Great Vulnerability Luke’s third community summary is his briefest (5:12–14) and shows again that when the community is rightly oriented it experiences growth. At this stage in the narrative, the Jesusgroup begins to emerge as an identifiable subgroup within its context (5:14–16). In particular, the group is associated with the extension of flourishing to the sick and those tormented by unclean spirits. The Jesus-group’s social identity is still Israelite, but intragroup differentiation is now sufficiently strong that the Jesus-group is viewed as a distinct social entity. This intra-ethnic differentiation causes sharply bifurcated responses. The sick and oppressed are attracted to the group. The powerful respond to the group with violence, again jailing the apostles (5:17). The miraculous deliverance of the apostles is described by the liberating angel (5:19) within the context of the allocentric posture of the group. Their liberation is for their sake and for their enemies: “Go, stand in the temple and tell the people the whole message about this life” (5:20). The temple was the seat of power for the high priest who had just arrested the apostles, yet the apostles use their freedom to seek the good of those who had just sought their harm. The responses of the high priest and his collaborators (5:21–26, 33) and the Jesus-group (5:29–32) reveal stark intergroup differentiation. The power-holding group was bent on the 221

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destruction of their enemies (“When they heard this, they were enraged and wanted to kill them” [5:33]) and was ironically fearful (“They were afraid of being stoned by the people” [5:26]). Meanwhile, the Jesus-group offers repentance and forgiveness of sins to its enemies (5:31) and acts with boldness (5:29) in spite of its vulnerability. The apostles continue to self-identity as Israelites, naming God as “the God of our ancestors” (5:30), yet the intra-ethnic differentiation is creating a new set of identity-creating criteria. Israelite identity alone does not foster participation in Jesus’s story. Responsiveness to Jesus is the sole criteria for participation in the group who bear witness—along with the Holy Spirit—to Jesus’s ongoing life (5:32) Throughout the gospel, and now in Acts, Luke is unwilling to treat outgroups as an undifferentiated gestalt. This subverts the typical social identity process by which ingroups ascribe greater heterogeneity to the ingroup and greater homogeneity to the outgroup (Brown, 750). In the gospel, the Jesus-group has room for rich people (Luke 7:2–5), Roman collaborators (Luke 5:27–28), and even for exemplary markers of the community to be exhibited by the ethnic other (Luke 10:25–37). A similar exercise of outgroup heterogeneity is displayed here when Luke positively evaluates Gamaliel, a Pharisee who could easily have been viewed as a dangerous other. Gamaliel cautions the violently enraged company of the high priest to wait and see whether or not the community forming around Jesus by the power of the Spirit “is of human origin” or “if it is of God” (5:38–39). His exhortation prevents murder, but not all violence or coercive power. The leaders flog the apostles and order them not to speak in the name of Jesus (5:40). The apostles, though, are so thoroughly identified with Jesus that they “rejoiced that they were considered worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name” (5:41) and they continued proclaiming that Jesus is the Messiah (5:42).

Exemplary and Anti-exemplary Deployments of Power Inside and Outside the Jesus-Group (6:1–8:1) (6:1–7) Ethnolinguistic Hegemony Threatens the Vulnerable Other In the Pentecost narrative, we discussed the linguistic realities in first-century Roman Judea, as well as how the Spirit’s surprising promulgation of ethnolinguistic diversity ensured there was no root, host, or prestige language to form the basis of social identity for the Jesus-group. As the number of disciples increased, however, the temptation to resort to older models for shared identity reared its head. 6:1 describes the community’s practice of providing bread for widows, which itself may have been one of the first organized poverty relief efforts in Roman Judea. This practice of radical generosity was marred, though, by the fact that Aramaic-speaking widows were receiving bread while Greek-speaking widows were being neglected (6:1). This defect in the life of the community is not surprising. SIT shows that resource allocation is often skewed toward group members who are more prototypical. In this case, Aramaic (closer to Hebrew and more likely the preferred language for ethnic Israelites) was deemed more prototypical and the (likely) primarily Aramaic-speaking apostles were skewing resource allocation in this direction. The drive toward linguistic hegemony almost immediately threatens the vulnerable, less prototypical other. The response of the apostles is a remarkably sensitive exercise of allocentric identity. First, they dignify the distribution of group resources by setting it in parallel with their vocation to

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preach the word. They urge the community to select those who will “minister at tables” (6:2) while the apostles exercise the “ministry of the word” (6:4). The NRSV obscures this parallelism, translating 6:2 as “to wait at tables,” even though both constructions use diakoneō/diakonia to describe the action. Second, the disciples give power to the community to select members who will remediate this injustice. The selection criteria underscore the apostles’ awareness that the Spirit is the motive power for the radical generosity that marks the community: “Select from among yourselves seven men of good standing, full of the Spirit and of wisdom” (6:3). Third, those who are selected all bear Greek names, likely situating them as members of the subgroup of Jesus-followers who were experiencing marginalization. The result of this decision secures the fact that, for the early community, power is manifest in generosity and the flourishing of the (especially marginalized) other. Social identity within the community cannot be based upon linguistic homogeneity, nor will linguistic diversity be squashed. Once more, when the community exhibits cruciform allocentrism, the natural result is growth—and in this case, growth that included high-identifying Israelites: “The word of God continued to spread; the number of the disciples increased greatly in Jerusalem, and a great many of the priests became obedient to the faith” (6:7). (6:8–8:1) The Israelite Outgroup Exhibits Anti-exemplary Violence Stephen is highlighted as one particular member of the community selected to remediate the unjust distribution of bread. He bears the marks of exemplarity, being full of wisdom and the Spirit (6:10) and able to do signs and wonders that imply the Spirit’s presence (6:8; cf. 2:19). Stephen’s pneumatic ministry occurs in an Israelite context marked by subgroup diversity. Israelites from Cyrene, Alexandria, Cilicia, and Asia were present in the synagogue of the Freedmen (6:9). This is evidence of the same sort of diaspora re-settlers present in the Pentecost narrative. In a scene that mirrors the tenuous charges against Jesus, Stephen is accused of blasphemy and brought before the council (6:12). The charges leveled against Stephen allege that he has betrayed exemplary practices of the ethnic Israelite ingroup: “We have heard him say that Jesus of Nazareth will destroy this place (the temple) and will change the customs that Moses handed on to us” (6:14). The charges activate identity threat even for the power-holding Israelites, and their response is predictable. When identity is threatened, especially by low-status others who threaten a group’s sense of purity, ingroup bias is intensified (Bettencourt et al., 521). In other words, the specific charges against Stephen are perfectly tuned to (1) increase the identification of the power-holders with their version of exemplary Israelite identity and (2) create outgroup differentiation between that group and Stephen. Stephen’s speech to the council is framed by his self-identification as a member of their ingroup. The literal Greek is “Men, brothers and fathers” (7:2). He speaks in the second-person plural about Abraham “our ancestor” (7:2) and proceeds to tell the history of Israel in a way that establishes his participation in Israel’s story and that establishes Jesus as the telos of Israel’s story. Given Israel’s subjugation by Rome, Stephen’s telling of Israel’s history is a remarkable act of social creativity, whereby he establishes favorable social identity by raising up otherwise not highly valued comparative criteria (Brewer, 438). Israel may be oppressed by Rome, but theirs is the history of covenant, exodus, law, and prophetic address. Yet this high-status identity is not associated with a triumphalist history. The high-status story of Israel includes Abraham’s wandering (7:5), Joseph’s slavery (7:9), the slaughter of Hebrew innocents (7:19), and the idol 223

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worship of the exodus generation (7:41). Stephen’s retelling of Israel’s story breaks off abruptly in a prophetic rebuke: “You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you are for ever opposing the Holy Spirit, just as your ancestors used to do. Which of the prophets did your ancestors not persecute? They killed those who foretold the coming of the Righteous One, and now you have become his betrayers and murderers. You are the ones that received the law as ordained by angels, and yet you have not kept it” (7:51–53). The rebuke identifies the murder of Jesus as the forsaking of the law or, viewed from the opposite angle, identifies Jesus himself as the telos of the law. The rebuke is also uncharacteristic speech for the Jesus-group, as its stridency sets a novel tone for the community. It is important to remember that, throughout, Stephen has identified as an Israelite and that his speech stands in the tradition of prophetic rebuke—which always comes, quite self-consciously, from within the ethnic Israelite group. Stephen’s rebuke must also be read in light of the exemplary enemy love he enacted as he was violently murdered: “While they were stoning Stephen, he prayed, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’ Then he knelt down and cried out in a loud voice, ‘Lord, do not hold this sin against them’” (7:59–60). Stephen’s last words—and his experience of martyrdom—deliberately parallel Luke’s depiction of Jesus’s enemy love while dying (Luke 23:34, 46). This extends the possibility that ingroup members can participate in the enemy love that marks the community of his followers. Stephen’s expression of enemy love comes immediately after Luke explicitly tells us that he was “filled with the Holy Spirit” (7:54), for it is only the Spirit who enables followers of Jesus to participate in his way of life. The leaders, however, exhibit anti-exemplary behavior, responding to Stephen with murderous rage and violently killing him. It is in this violent context that we first meet Saul, who approved of this act of outgroup violence.

The Spirit Orchestrates Intergroup Encounters to Incorporate Ethnic Others and Deadly Enemies into the Ingroup (8:1–11:30) (8:1–25) The Spirit Orchestrates a “Dual Conversion” to Incorporate Samaritans into the Ingroup The incorporation of Samaritans into the Jesus-group is a significant boundary crossing that was hinted at in Luke, where Jesus often used Samaritans as exemplars of ingroup practice (e.g., Luke 10:25–37; 17:11–19). In Acts, the incorporation of this ethnic other is set in the context of escalating identity threat. The Jesus-group had been scattered throughout Judea and Samaria (8:1) and Saul was “dragging off both men and women . . . to prison” (8:3). Ingroup threat heightens ingroup identification and often strengthens outgroup differentiation, so it could be reasonably expected that the Jesus-group would not be inclined toward Samaritans in this period of identity threat. Historically, Samaritans and Israelites experienced episodic intergroup violence. Jesus had introduced a Samaritan as the definitive “foreigner” (17:18), the only usage of allogenēs in the NT. Socially, Israelites and Samaritans both laid claim to identity as members of the covenant family of Abraham through Jacob. SIT has found that social similarity can lead to increased impetus for intergroup distinctiveness (Jetten et al., 622), and this drive may underlie intergroup strife between Israelites and Samaritans, even within the Jesus-group (see Luke 9:51–56). At least eight different explanations have been offered by scholars to explain the anomalous separation of Spirit reception from the conversion and baptism of the Samaritans. I suggest the

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Spirit was not delayed, but appeared precisely as we would expect if the Spirit is the central figure in the formation of a social identity that affirms, yet chastens and transcends ethnic particularity. In other words, the episode in Samaria shows that the Spirit is interested not simply in personal conversion but in the formation of a new type of social group. The experience in Samaria tracks with expected markers of conversion in Acts: healings, exorcisms, joy, belief in the message about the kingdom of God and Jesus, and baptism (8:7, 8, 12). Yet hearers are surprised that believing Samaritans had not yet received the Spirit (8:16). This mention of the Spirit’s absence only when the Jerusalem apostles are brought back into the story (8:14–16) highlights the significance of the Spirit for marking identity. The exemplary apostles are now confronted with a significant question about the identity of the Samaritans— who had believed about Jesus but not yet received the Spirit. There is even room to wonder if the visit of Peter and John to Samaria was driven by skepticism. Peter was the investigator of the women’s report about the empty tomb (Luke 23:12). John, in his most recent intergroup contact with Samaritans, had called for the destruction of one of their villages (Luke 9:51–56). From a social identity perspective, the arrival of the Spirit only after Peter and John were present serves publicly to confirm the identity of the Samaritans as members of the Jesus-group. In Luke’s narrative, the scene plays on Peter’s modified quotation of Joel 3:1–5 LXX (2:17–21), where he proclaimed that the Spirit marks those who are identified as slaves of God. The Spirit waits so that Peter and John witness the definitive identification of the Samaritans. The addition of the other to the ingroup always requires the reconfiguration of ingroup identity to include a larger “us.” The Spirit’s arrival in Samaria prompts the conversion of Peter’s and John’s social identities. The social transformation is on display at the close of the pericope. They return home, “proclaiming the good news to many villages of the Samaritans” (8:25). On the way to Samaria, they did not share the gospel with any non-Israelites. On the way home their practice was transformed. The coming of the Spirit, at precisely the right moment, navigated this stubborn, interethnic boundary. A final word should be said here about Simon the magician. In light of Luke’s focus on the use of power, status, or identity not for selfish exploitation but for the sake of the flourishing of others, Simon’s attempt to buy the power to impart the Spirit (8:18–19) is an example of a desire to utilize power for selfish gain. (8:26–40) The Spirit Orchestrates the Incorporation of an Anomalous Ethiopian In the next scene, an angel of the Lord sends Philip to a wilderness road between Jerusalem and Gaza (8:26) to encounter another social boundary. Ethnically, the character is Ethiopian. But Luke draws attention to his identity as a eunuch, using that category five times (8:27, 34, 36, 38, 39). The politically powerful and religiously curious figure was returning from an epic journey to worship at the Jerusalem temple. The temple sits in the background of the story, and those familiar with the Mosaic Law would be well aware that the eunuch’s identity prevented full participation in temple worship (Deut 23:2 LXX; Lev 21:17–21). The arduous pilgrimage had a disappointing end result, as the eunuch would have been relegated to the furthest margins of the temple precinct. 8:29 is the Spirit’s first direct speech in Acts. Here, and every time hereafter, the Spirit’s speech directs members of the Jesus-group to incorporate ethnic others into the ingroup. In this case, the Spirit directs Philip, “Go over to this chariot and join it” (8:29, cf. 10:19–20; 11:12; 13:2). This is a powerful example of the Spirit’s orchestration of intergroup encounter, pushing out the boundaries of the Jesus-group.

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The intergroup encounter is centered on the eunuch’s reading of Isa 53:7–8b. Commentators have wondered why Luke did not utilize a more clearly Christocentric portion of Isa 53, but Luke is emphatic that Philip began “starting with this scripture” (8:35) and offered a Christological account of the Israelite scriptures. The eunuch’s question about the Isaianic text is poignant, and gives insight into the identity-related tensions in the text: “About whom, may I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?” (8:34). The question directs the reader to the plight of the prophet, who is led to his demise without descendants: “Who can describe his generation? For his life is taken away from the earth” (8:33). The eunuch’s likely exclusion from the temple and its constituent reminder of his inability to have children prompted his solidarity with the childless figure from Isaiah. Philip’s account of “the good news about Jesus” (8:35) reached toward eunuch’s lament and prompted the eunuch to ask for and receive baptism (8:36–38). While we cannot be certain about the content of Philip’s Christological narration of the Israelite scriptures, a significant Isaianic substructure appears to lie beneath Acts 8 which may offer insight into social implications of the gospel presented to the eunuch. Let not the foreigner (allogenes) who attaches himself to the Lord say, “Surely the Lord will separate me from his people (laos).” And let not the eunuch say, “I am a dry tree.” This is what the Lord says to the eunuchs, as many as keep my Sabbaths and choose the things that I want and hold fast my covenant, “I will give to them, in my house and within my walls, an esteemed place, better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name and it shall not fail. And to the foreigners (allogenēs) attaching themselves to the Lord to serve (douleuien) him and to love the name of the Lord (to onoma kuriou) to be to him male slaves (doulous) and female slaves (doulas) . . . I will bring them to my holy mountain and I will make them glad in my house of prayer. . . . For my house will be called a house of prayer for all nations (ethnē).” (Isa 56:3–7) The parallels with Acts 8 are numerous: the use of allogenēs, the concern about—and promise of—a family for eunuchs, the collocation “love the name of the Lord” that parallels Samaritans’ belief in “the name of Jesus” in Acts 8:12, and the mention of male and female slaves. It is also curious that Luke’s version of the temple cleansing—especially given Luke’s interest in the wide horizon of the gospel—cuts short the Isa 56:7 quotation, stating only that “my house will be called a house of prayer” and omitting “for all nations” (Luke 9:46). I suggest that Luke forestalls this portion of Isa 56 in order to preserve its narrative demonstration in Acts 8, where Samaritans and eunuchs are brought into the household of God. It is, definitively, the work of the Spirit to orchestrate these intergroup encounters, to mark Samaritans and a eunuch as slaves of God, and to press forward the social horizon of the new community, shaping a new social identity capable of transcending social barriers even while preserving ethnic particularity. (9:1–31) The Spirit Incorporates a Violent Enemy through the Enemy Love of the Ingroup Like the community summaries, Saul’s encounter with Jesus and incorporation into the Jesusgroup is narrated three times (9:1–31; 22:1–21; 26:4–23)—a clear signal of its importance to the narrative. The narrative is as remarkable for the community’s incorporation of their mortal enemy as it is for Saul’s transformation from violence to nonviolence. Most remarkable, though, is Luke’s definitive identification of Jesus with the Jesus-group. This identification explains how 226

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Jesus’s exemplary enemy love is activated in the community’s ability to welcome a mortal enemy to their shared table. Saul’s status as an enemy of the group is foregrounded in 9:1–2. He was “breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord” and extraditing Damascene Jesus-followers, bound, to Jerusalem. Clearly, Saul is the prototypical enemy of the Jesus-group, which now has a discernible (at least sub-)group identity as “the Way” (9:2). The introduction of this enemy activates external identity threat which usually leads toward increased group boundaries and intergroup differentiation (Rothgerber, 1207–10). Initial evidence of intergroup differentiation is present in Ananias’s hesitant response to the news about Saul—but the Spirit navigates this intergroup barrier. Scholarly interest has focused on variations within the triple telling of Saul’s encounter, but from an identity perspective it is the consistent core of the triple telling that is central. Jesus: Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? Saul: Who are you Lord? Jesus: I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. In Luke, we saw that Jesus’s followers were invited to share in Jesus’s identity as a child of the Most High as they enacted theoform practices of enemy love and radical generosity (6:35–36). The shared identity of Jesus and the community is heightened significantly here, as Jesus identifies himself—without reserve—with the ingroup. Action taken against the ingroup is action taken against Jesus. For Saul, the encounter reveals at least two transformational realities. Most basically, Jesus, who was crucified, has experienced resurrection and is alive. Second, Jesus identifies himself completely with the very group Saul was persecuting. Luke highlights this by twice repeating Jesus’s lament that Saul is actually persecuting him (9:4–5). From an identity perspective, this radically raises the status of the persecuted ingroup. In the narrative world of Acts, Saul’s encounter with Jesus is incomplete apart from his incorporation into the Jesus-group. Again, it is the Spirit who navigates a significant social boundary. The Lord uses a vision to instruct Ananias, a Damascene Jesus-follower, to go to Saul, pray for him, and restore his sight (9:10–12). The vision is evidence of the Spirit’s agency, as Acts 2:17 demonstrated that the Spirit provides dreams and visions. Ananias’s initial response is typical for a threatened group—he experienced heightened intergroup differentiation and realized the risk of going to his enemy (9:13–15). But the Lord prevailed upon him, in part by alerting him that Saul—who had caused the suffering of many—will himself have to suffer at the hands of powerful enemies whose good he will seek (9:15–16). The exemplary practices of enemy love are essential to the community’s ability to welcome Saul—and Ananias is the exemplar who facilitates this. It is notable, too, that Saul’s commission is into a life of enemy love, even in the face of his inevitable victimhood at the hands of those whose good he seeks. Saul’s transformation from violence to nonviolence is a startling and clear sign of his identity now as a child of the Most High. Ananias’s visit to Saul is a microcosm of the early community summaries: Saul receives the Spirit, is baptized, and shares table fellowship with Ananias (9:17–19). Saul has been brought into the Jesus-group. Yet, as is so often the case in Acts, the full community struggles to keep up with the Spirit’s incorporation of the other. Saul escapes the violent power of some Israelite leaders in Damascus (9:23–25) only to be met with fear and mistrust from Jesus-followers in Jerusalem. They surmise Paul may be faking his identity (9:26). This scene shows that either the 227

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Spirit can be explicitly named or the characteristics of the Spirit can be narrated. In this case, the latter is true. Barnabas, who is already known to exemplify the community’s practices of radical generosity, brings Saul before the apostles and vouches for his testimony to the name of Jesus (9:27–29). Exemplars embody the most identity-relevant characteristics of the group, and Barnabas’s ability to love a former enemy puts him in league with Jesus, Son of the Most High. Hearers of Luke will not be surprised when Barnabas is said to be “full of the Holy Spirit” in 11:24, as he has displayed Spirit-created identity throughout Acts. Two final points should be made. First, once the community is able to practice enemy love toward Saul, Luke immediately turns to the numerical growth of the community. The community always grows when its identity is properly configured. This description of growth hints at the significance of intergroup reconciliation: the “church (ekklēsia) throughout Judea, Galilee, and Samaria had peace and was built up. Living in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of the Holy Spirit, it increased in numbers” (9:31). Second, Zechariah’s song indicated that the coming of the Lord would result in “peace” (Luke 1:79) and that this would come, in part, through the defeat of Israel’s enemies. Paul is clearly an enemy of the Lord, but his “defeat” bears tantalizing resonance with Mary’s description of God’s defeat of enemies. Mary sings that God has “brought down the powerful from their thrones” and has “sent the rich away empty” (Luke 1:52, 53). Powerful Saul is brought down and sent away hungry. Jesus’s group does receive peace through the defeat of its enemies, yet it turns out that God’s way of defeat is not through violence but by welcoming the enemy into the family of God. (9:32–43) Peter Uses Power for the Flourishing of Others The social memory of Aeneas and Tabitha/Dorcas is indicative of the place that lower-status members of the Roman social strata had within the Jesus-group. Bauckham has argued persuasively that the naming of minor characters is one clue that these people remained important within the early communities, perhaps as eyewitnesses to the events of Jesus’s life (Bauckham, Jesus, 39–55). Here, the naming of two otherwise unknown characters shows (1) that these lower-status characters were important in the community in ways that they may not have been important in the wider Roman context and (2) Peter’s use of power in the Jesus-group continues to be not for selfish exploitation, but for the flourishing of the other. (Acts 10:1–48) The Spirit Incorporates Non-Israelites into the Jesus-Group Luke narrates the encounter with Cornelius as the first truly interethnic exchange in Acts. The Israelite/non-Israelite social boundary is the essential seam at which to understand Luke’s conception of how identity works within the Jesus-group. For Luke, the Spirit is the agent who orchestrates interethnic encounter, who identifies non-Israelites as full members of the Jesus-group, and who ensures that ethnic particularity is retained at a subgroup level. Luke foregrounds the ethnic boundary by using the kinship category “brothers” (adelphoi) ten times in Acts 10–14. This can be compared with the earlier use of “disciples” (mathētas) for intra-Israelite differentiation, and “eunuch” in Acts 8 to foreground eunuch identity. Luke initiates this ethnic boundary crossing by once again introducing an enemy—Cornelius, a Roman military leader (10:1). Though he is a pious man, perhaps even a God fearer, he represents the Roman oppression of Israelites (10:2). During prayer, an angel of the Lord instructed him to send envoys to Peter.

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Shortly thereafter, Peter, also in prayer (and hungry!) received a more complex vision from God (10:9). Peter saw—and was instructed to kill and eat—all manner of creatures that Israelites were forbidden to consume (10:11–13). Peter’s resistance highlights the ongoing salience of his Israelite identity; he refused to break Mosaic food laws (10:14). But the voice in the vision offers broad permission: “What God has made clean, you must not call profane” (10:16). Food laws were one of the most prominent intergroup comparative criteria for Israelites living alongside non-Israelites. Their intergroup distinctiveness rested, in part, upon these socially unique food practices. Peter’s reticence to transgress that barrier can be seen as his awareness of the salience of his Israelite identity. The meaning of the vision is not self-evident to Peter, who was “puzzled” (10:17) and still pondering when Cornelius’s envoys arrived. At that very moment, the Spirit again speaks directly, “Look, three men are searching for you. Now get up, go down, and go with them without hesitation, for I have sent them” (10:19–20). The speech of the Spirit in Acts always orchestrates interethnic contact (cf. 8:29). Upon Peter’s entry into Cornelius’s home, Cornelius fell at Peters feet and “worshipped him” (10:25). This potentially idolatrous confusion positions Cornelius as a prototype (from an Israelite perspective) of non-Israelites. They worship the wrong things—which is precisely why social intercourse with non-Israelites is risky. Peter corrects Cornelius (10:26), but also names the operative interethnic boundary and the divine mitigation of that boundary: “You yourselves know that it is unlawful for a Judean [NRSV ‘Jew’] to associate with or to visit a non-Israelite [NRSV ‘Gentile’]; but God has shown me that I should not call anyone profane or unclean” (10:28–29). Peter’s use of “forbidden” (athemitos), which the NRSV imprecisely renders ‘unlawful,’ is important. Peter could have chosen “unlawful” (anomos), though in actuality there is no Mosaic Law that completely prohibits intergroup contact. athemitos is indicative of something forbidden by force of practice or tradition, rather than by statute. That is, the Spirit is mitigating a powerful social barrier at this interethnic boundary. Peter launches his speech to Cornelius’s household by acknowledging his Spirit-transformed understanding: “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation (ethnos) anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him” (10:34–35). Peter’s telling of the story of Jesus is rooted in Israelite ethnic particularity. It is “the message he sent to the people of Israel” (10:36). Yet the ethnically particular origins will not preclude the incorporation of the ethnic other. Incorporation of the ethnic other is a fitting outcome for the theme of “peace” that Peter amplifies in his speech. The message sent to Israel was “peace by Jesus Christ” (10:36; cf. Luke 1:79). Rowe has shown persuasively that the Greek construction emphatically positions Jesus, and not Caesar—in the context of a Roman military household—as the peace-bringing Lord of all: “preaching peace by Jesus Christ—this one, he is Lord of all” (10:37, my translation; see Rowe 2005, 112). Peter’s telling of Jesus’s history demonstrates (1) Jesus uses his lordly power for the good of the other, even using language of benefaction (10:38), (2) political power-holders manifested their power through violence to Jesus (10:39), and (3) Jesus was raised from the dead and members of the Jesus-group were commanded to testify that Jesus is the judge who will forgive all who believe in him (10:42–43). The latter point indicates that the Jesus-group uses its status and identity to continue to seek the good of the (even dangerous) other. Acts 10:44–48 is the definitive expression of the Spirit’s identity-marking, social identityforming function in Acts. (1) The Spirit falls “while Peter was still speaking” (10:44). (2) Luke highlights the ethnic boundary by categorizing Peter’s group as “circumcised believers” (10:45). 229

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(3) The non-Israelites spoke in other languages, just like the 120 at Pentecost (10:46). (4) Peter, advocating baptism for the non-Israelites, proclaims that they have “received the Holy Spirit just as we have” (10:47). (5) Peter remained, presumably enjoying table fellowship with non-Israelite Jesus-group members, for several days. Peter’s identity, guarded so cautiously at the start of this pericope, is transformed. We see here the formation of a superordinate social identity that maintains ethnicity as a salient subgroup identity. The non-Israelites receive the Spirit as nonIsraelites, yet the ethnic boundary no longer determines access to the Jesus-group. (11:1–18) Israelite Jesus-Followers Revert to Old Identity Frameworks, but the Spirit Transforms Their Group The ethnic boundary remains in view in Acts 11. Luke categorizes Jesus-followers in Judea as “brothers” (11:1), a marker of ethnic identity at this point in Acts. The ethnic focus is amplified by the “circumcised”/“uncircumcised” dialectic used to critique Peter (11:2–3). The “brothers” criticized Peter, asking, “Why did you go to uncircumcised men and eat with them?” (11:3). The Jesus-group in Jerusalem finds itself in the same intergroup space that Peter inhabited at the beginning of Acts 10. They differentiate based on ethnicity, particularly as that identity boundary is marked by practices of table fellowship. Peter’s response highlights the Spirit’s incorporative work. He retells the animal vision (11:5– 10) and specifically identifies the Spirit’s command to “go with them and not make a distinction between them and us” (11:12). Peter says nothing about his speech or the actions of non-Israelites in Cornelius’s household. He proceeds directly to the manifestation of the Spirit: “As I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us at the beginning” (11:15). This virtual repetition of 10:47 highlights the similarity between Pentecost and Cornelius’s household. The coming of the Spirit reminded Peter that Jesus himself said that his disciples would be “baptized with the Holy Spirit” (11:17). The only time one of the Twelve quotes the words of Jesus in Acts they quote a teaching that points toward the identity-marking function of the Spirit. Peter is insistent non-Israelites as non-Israelites were given “the same gift he [God] gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ” (11:17). Peter’s focus is on the Spirit as unmerited gift, not as something earned through pious practice. Peter recognizes it was God’s work to incorporate nonIsraelites through the Spirit, for resisting the incorporation of non-Israelites would be an attempt to “hinder God” (11:17). The argument was persuasive. The Israelite believers responded in praise, equating the gift of the Spirit with the gift of repentance and life: “Then God has given even to the non-Israelites [NRSV ‘Gentiles’] the repentance that leads to life” (11:18). The pathway to profound interethnic reconciliation in Acts is not ethnic assimilation or cultural homogeneity. Instead, the pathway to interethnic reconciliation is the formation of a superordinate identity, produced by the Spirit, who transcends ethnicity as a terminal identity while staunchly defending ethnic particularity as a salient subgroup identity. The lordship of Jesus demands ethnic particularity, for Jesus is Lord of all peoples. Yet the lordship of Jesus creates a new, larger social identity in which the peoples are gathered by the Spirit around Jesus’s lordship as participants in Jesus’s own exemplary life of enemy love and radical generosity. (11:19–29) Barnabas, the Spirit-Filled Exemplar, Is Equipped to Welcome Non-Israelites into the Jesus-Group It is generally accepted that the “Hellenists” who “turned to the Lord” (11:20– 21) were non-Israelites. This is supported by a prominent textual variant that designates this group

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as “Greeks.” Unsurprisingly, while an ethnic boundary was navigated by the Spirit through the conversion of Cornelius’s household and the transformation of the Judean believers, ethnic social boundaries remained stubborn in other places. Believers scattered by the persecution named in Acts 8:1 found themselves in Phoenicia, Cyprus, and Antioch. While a majority of those Jesusfollowers spoke only to Israelites in those regions, Israelite believers whose homelands were Cyprus and Cyrene arrived in Antioch and preached to non-Israelites (11:20). Hearing about the conversion of these non-Israelites, the Jerusalem leaders sent Barnabas to Antioch (11:22). While this scene generally tracks with the investigatory trip of Peter and John to Samaria in Acts 8:14–25, the selection of Barnabas for this work—and Luke’s characterization of Barnabas—indicates that the early community is beginning to see the Spirit as the central identity marker for the Jesus-group. Barnabas’s radical generosity was exemplary of the Spirit-filled Jesus-community in 4:36–37 and his enemy love resulted in the incorporation of Saul in 9:27. Here, Barnabas “rejoiced” at the “grace of God” given to non-Israelites in Antioch and exhorted them to remain faithful “with steadfast devotion” (11:23). Luke attributes Barnabas’s actions to the fact that “he was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and faith” (11:24). The Spirit shapes humans toward allocentric engagement, making them capable of an identity that expresses both ingroup love and outgroup love. We have already seen this in narrative descriptions of Barnabas, and we now know definitively that Luke can describe Spirit-filled exemplars either by explicit mention of the Spirit or by ascribing to them actions the narrative only connects to the Spirit. Barnabas’s Spirit-shaped identity prepares him and Saul to live for a year in Antioch, presumably working with the ethnically mixed Jesus-group. The social novelty of this community of reconciled ethnic diversity, which transcends ethnic hegemony but retains ethnic particularity, is highlighted here by the fact that Antiochene Jesus-followers are the first to be called “Christians” (11:26). This is evidence that ethnic categories are no longer sufficient to describe the Jesusgroup. The chapter closes with a now-familiar act of radical generosity, exercised by Spirit-filled exemplars Barnabas and Saul. In light of a pending famine, followers of Jesus “determined that according to their ability, each would send relief to the brothers living in Judea” (11:29). These gifts were delivered by Barnabas and Saul. The directionality of this generosity is important. Gifts come to the Israelite believers in Jerusalem through the generosity of the ethnically mixed community in Antioch. This exemplary generosity is a sign that non-Israelites are shaped by the Spirit apart from Israelite ethnic practices. The collection is evidence that the Spirit has come to non-Israelites as non-Israelites.

The Jesus-Group Expresses Its Allocentric Identity, and Discovers Its Vulnerability and Distinctiveness, in Multiple Intergroup Contexts (12:1–14:28) (12:1–24) Violence Is a Way of Power Outside the Jesus-Group The reconciliation that marks the ingroup in Acts 8, 9, 10, and 11 is abruptly interrupted by what Luke sees as typical intergroup action for power-holders outside the Jesus-group. Herod, already exposed as violent and fearful in Luke, “laid violent hands” on some Jesus-followers, executing John’s brother James and

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imprisoning Peter in order to deliver him to the people at Passover (12:2–4). The Jesus-group’s Spirit-empowered enemy love stands in clear relief to the readiness with which violence emerges as a typical mode of intergroup behavior for power-holders. Power-holders do act with violence, but Luke regularly shows the limitations of power through violence. Jesus’s resurrection definitively exposes violence as a shadow power. That theme is sounded again in 12:6–11, when God sends a single angel to thwart a hyperbolic number of guards (four squads of soldiers!) charged with securing Peter’s confinement. This implicit critique of the limitations of imperial power is one way that Luke encourages Jesus-followers to continue vulnerable practices of allocentric concern in the face of imperial threat. Peter’s appearance at the house of Mary reveals the ongoing significance of women in the Jesus-movement, as does Luke’s almost casual naming of the maid Rhoda (12:12–13). The characteristic violence of power-holders is tragically highlighted in Herod’s response to Peter’s escape. After examining the guards, he ordered them put to death (12:19). Herod, in Luke and Acts, exemplifies a typical mode of power outside of the Jesus-group. 12:20–23 is a challenging text. Herod’s characteristic anger prompts Tyrians and Sidonians to seek reconciliation with the king so that they could be assured of his provision of food (12:20). Herod’s approach to reconciliation starkly contrasts the approach of the Spirit-empowered community. Rather than use his power to seek the flourishing of the vulnerable other, Herod uncritically receives their words of divine adulation. Luke blithely reports, “Immediately, because he had not given the glory to God, an angel of the lord struck him down and he was eaten by worms and died” (12:23). In Acts 9, God responds to an enemy of the Jesus-group by incorporating him into the community. In Acts 12, God responds to an enemy of the Jesus-group by striking him down. How this squares with the key text in Luke 6:35–36 is hard to say. The key difference in Acts 12, which makes it unique in Luke-Acts, is that here a power-holder has laid claim to a divine identity—which leads God to move in judgment in order to defend a vulnerable and marginalized group. Whatever else can be said, it must be clearly understood that mortal power is never placed in the hands of the community. It is reserved for God alone. (13:1–12) The Spirit Sends Jesus-Followers to the Ethnic Other From within the interethnic community in Antioch, the Spirit’s direct speech again sends Jesus-followers to the ethnic other. In this case, during corporate worship, the Spirit calls Saul and Barnabas to itinerant ministry across the Mediterranean and through parts of southern Asia Minor (13:2). Luke emphasizes the Spirit’s role in this ethnic expansion, noting the Spirit’s call in 13:2 and that they were “sent out by the Holy Spirit” (13:4). The Spirit continues to form a social identity that transcends ethnic hegemony, while preserving ethnic particularity at a subgroup level. The trans-ethnic nature of the mission is accentuated by the fact that Saul and Barnabas preach in synagogues and in distinctly non-Israelite contexts. That conjunction is highlighted by their encounter with the Israelite false prophet Bar-Jesus who was a companion of the nonIsraelite proconsul Sergius Paulus (13:6–7). Saul strongly rebukes Bar-Jesus for his effort to turn the proconsul away from the faith. The judgment miracle is intelligible in light of Saul’s own experience in Acts 9. He, too, worked to turn people away from Jesus. God’s incorporative mercy toward Saul was initially expressed through his temporary blinding. It is telling that Saul met his first encounter with an enemy of Jesus with precisely the same action Jesus took toward him. The blinding, while severe, is clearly temporary: “you will be blind for a while” (13:11) 232

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and—like Saul (9:8)—he needed to be led by the hand. Bar-Jesus’s fate is not known, nor can we know—with confidence—Saul’s intention. We can simply see the parallelism between Saul’s experience at the hands of Jesus and Bar-Jesus’s experience at the hands of Saul, along with the positive result for Sergius Paulus, who “believed” (13:12). (13:13–52) Jesus and His Trans-ethnic People Teleologically Fulfill Israel’s Vocation Saul— called Paul from here on—preaches a sermon in Pisidian Antioch that is one of the most important expressions of Luke’s conviction that the trans-ethnic Jesus-following ingroup is not a supersession of Israel, but rather the teleological completion of Israel’s identity and vocation. Any supersessionist move is immediately chastened by Paul’s ongoing Israelite identification, evident in his habit of Sabbath-day synagogue worship and the fact that the Israelites in the synagogue refer to Paul and Barnabas as “brothers” (13:15). Paul’s sermon identifies Israelites and “others who fear God” (13:16) as present in the synagogue. Paul’s language of ethnic self-identification is pervasive. He speaks of the God of “this people Israel” who “chose our ancestors” for deliverance from Egypt (13:17). Israel’s story ranges from the wilderness wandering, inheritance of the land, Israel’s judges, initiation of the kingship, and—through David—its culmination in Jesus the promised Savior (13:17–23). The sermon’s climax resonates with Gabriel’s promise that Jesus would inherit David’s throne (Luke 1:32). Paul is careful not to omit the ministry of John the Baptist, who was calling people to repentance even before the coming of Jesus (13:24). Paul’s encapsulated retelling of Jesus as the telos of Israel’s covenantal history provides Paul opportunity for ethnic self-identification: “My brothers, you descendants of Abraham’s family, and others who fear God, to us the message of this salvation has been sent” (13:26). Paul locates himself, and all Israelites, as people to whom God has offered his message of salvation. Israel’s utter priority in this retelling of the covenantal history raises the status of the Israelite ingroup. Paul implicates “the residents of Jerusalem and their leaders” (13:27) and Pilate (13:28) in Jesus’s death, but God’s care for Israel is not exhausted by Jesus’s death. Instead, God has resurrected Jesus and provided witnesses of Jesus’s resurrection (13:30–31). Those Jesus-followers use their high status as witnesses of resurrection to seek the good of all Israel: “We bring you the good news that what God promised to our ancestors he has fulfilled for us, their children, by raising Jesus” (13:32–33). The resurrection demonstrates God’s covenantal faithfulness to Israel. Paul supports this claim with key texts from Israel’s scriptures (Ps 2:7; Isa 55:3; Ps 16:10; Hab 1:5). The fulfillment of the covenant—in line with promises like those in Jer 31:34—results in forgiveness of sins (13:29). Moreover, Jesus liberates from (or brings righteousness to/for) all that could not be liberated/made righteous by the Mosaic Law (13:39). The vocation of Jesus’s followers always includes using their identity to extend the offer of flourishing beyond the boundaries of the ingroup. This allocentric posture is the work of the Spirit and results in Israelites (and nonIsraelite god-fearers who have joined themselves to Israel) turning to Jesus (13:43). Intergroup tensions flare when Paul and Barnabas return on the following Sabbath. Israelites jealous of the crowd—according to Luke—committed blasphemy by contradicting the preaching of Paul. As was the case in Luke (cf. Luke 7:30), some Israelites rule themselves out of the Jesusgroup not because they are not welcome but because they have rejected the word of God and judged themselves to be “unworthy of eternal life” (13:46). The intra-ethnic distinction among Israelites is simply response to the message about Jesus. Paul and Barnabas definitively state that 233

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they are “now turning to the non-Israelites” (13:46). But this is clearly only a local decision, as Paul and Barnabas continue to engage ethnic Israelites throughout the remainder of the narrative. One fascinating insight into the way Paul and Barnabas see the relationship between Israel’s privileged covenantal identity and non-Israelites stem from their articulation of Isa 49:6. This text is used to claim that Israel’s identity finds its teleological completion in witness to non-Israelites so that salvation can be through Israel to “the ends of the earth” (13:47). “Ends of the earth” is a key phrase in Acts 1:8 and marks the universal incorporative intent of God’s work through Jesus by the Spirit. Like Jesus and his Spirit-empowered Jesus-group, Israel’s vocation was to leverage its covenantal status and identity for the sake of the nations. In this way, Israelite Jesus-followers are not participating in the vocation of the covenantal people. Non-Israelites received the word with joy, but Israelites and non-Israelite God-fearers responded with violence, driving the pair out of the city and stirring up persecution (13:48–50). Paul and Barnabas responded to this violence not with reciprocal violence but with joy, filled with the Spirit (13:52). (14:1–7) Violence, Social Identity, and Ethnic Solidarity Paul’s and Barnabas’s time in Iconium produces a similar experience. Their synagogue preaching expands the interethnic community, with both Israelites and Greeks joining the Jesus-group (14:1). However, Israelites outside of the Jesus-group galvanized non-Israelites against Paul and Barnabas (14:2). The result of the controversy in Iconium is an ironic ethnic solidarity. Non-Israelites and Israelites are able to transcend their ethnic difference by virtue of their own superordinate identity. In this case, though, that superordinate identity is marked by shared violence toward Paul and Barnabas (14:5). This clarifies a feature of the Jesus-group’s social identity. Not every superordinate identity is suitable for navigating ethnic boundaries. Luke knows ethnic groups can unite around shared goals— but those goals always involve resistance toward a common “other.” The social identity of the Jesus-group is differentiated from other groups because the Jesus-group is shaped by virtue of proximity to Jesus and his pattern of life, while other groups are shaped by identifying themselves primarily over against the other. (14:8–19) Outside the Jesus-Group, There Is Confusion about Worship Paul and Barnabas continue to exercise exemplary concern for the other as they enter Lystra. Their healing of a crippled man (14:10) prompts a confused reaction from the Lystrans. They declare Paul and Barnabas to be Hermes and Zeus in human form (14:11–12). The quickly unfolding scene demonstrates Luke’s conviction that confusion about worship is prevalent outside the Jesusgroup. Unlike Herod’s acceptance of divine adulation (12:22–23), Paul and Barnabas immediately try to stop this misguided action (14:15). Paul’s brief sermon demonstrates a type of radical generosity toward the Lystrans. Rather than force the Lystrans to think through the lens of Israel’s narrative, Paul narrates God’s action through God’s benevolence in creation (14:15–17). Paul’s hermeneutical accessibility is a subtle but important way he refuses to use privileged identity for selfish exploitation. The scene ends in a familiar way, as Israelites from Antioch and Iconium came, stirred up the crowds, stoned Paul, and left him for dead (14:19). (14:21–24) Leaders in the Jesus-Group Share Power for the Good of the Community In a remarkably understated sentence, Luke notes the pair’s return to Lystra, Iconium, and Antioch

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(14:21). Though they have faced mortal danger in some of these locales, they practice allocentric identity by returning to strengthen those who earlier joined the Jesus-group. Rather than reinforce their own status within these communities, Paul and Barnabas appointed elders in each church, praying for them, fasting, and assuring them that they can expect to face suffering because of their affiliation with the Jesus-group (14:22–23). Voluntary power sharing is a unique feature of the Jesus-group, echoing Jesus’s exemplary practice of never using power for selfish exploitation. The first missionary journey ends in Antioch with celebration of non-Israelites’ incorporation into the Jesus-group (14:27).

Spirit-Created Superordinate Identity Transcends Ethnic Barriers (15:1–35) The controversy in Acts 15 surrounds whether non-Israelites can enter the Jesus-group as nonIsraelites, or whether they must undergo Israelite ethnic conversion through, at the very least, circumcision and fidelity to the Mosaic Law. This passage calls for attention to four particular identity-related features. (1) Luke’s careful, and radical, usage of social categories. (2) Luke’s insistence that it is the Spirit who has transcended the ethnic barriers salient in this text. (3) Luke’s highlighting, in a third telling of the conversion of Cornelius, the Spirit’s work at an intractable social boundary. (4) Luke’s awareness that the Spirit-formed trans-ethnic identity that preserves ethnic particularity is both the telos of Israel’s covenantal identity and the result of rightly oriented worship. I will work briefly through the chapter four times over in order to attend to each of these significant threads. (15:1–35) Social Categories in 15:1–35 The category “brothers” (adelphoi) is salient and marks the ethnic boundary. To this point in Luke and Acts, “brothers” has only been used by Israelites to refer to other Israelites. In this chapter, “brothers” appears in 15:1, 4, 7, 13, and 22, to refer to Israelites (with the shakiest claim in 15:1). The emphasis on ethnic kinship is reinforced by the argument about circumcision and fidelity to the Mosaic Law (15:1, 5). From a social identity perspective, the argument concerns the relationship between exemplarity and ingroup membership. Israelites who came from Judea to Antioch, and, later, Jesus-following Pharisees, make the argument that Israelite ethnic identity and its constituent practices are central to the Jesus-group’s identity. To become a “brother,” in the ethnic reasoning at work in the text is to become an Israelite who then submits to the lordship of Jesus. Following the council’s deliberation, Luke exhibits transformed usage of the kinship category “brothers.” The letter to the non-Israelite Jesus-followers in Antioch, Syria, and Cilicia begins, “The brothers, both the apostles and the elders, to the brothers from the non-Israelites” (15:23, my translation). This is the first time in the gospel tradition or in contemporary Israelite literature that “brothers” is unambiguously used for non-Israelites (Kuecker, 214). The significance of its usage is profound. The kinship term is used to describe shared ingroup identity at the very moment the Jesus-group decided that Israelites would be members of the Jesus-group as Israelites and that the non-Israelites would be members of the Jesus-group as non-Israelites. In other words, ingroup

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identity retained ethnic particularity at a subgroup level. Fidelity to Israel’s God, expressed as loyalty to Jesus empowered by the Spirit, is the source of shared identity. Social homogeneity is not a criterion for shared social identity. It should be noted that following Acts 15:23, “brothers” can be used to describe either solidarity with ethnic Israelites (e.g., 22:1, 5; 23:1) or the Jesusgroup with its multiethnic membership (e.g., 15:32, 16:2, 21:7). (15:1–35) God, by the Spirit, Takes Initiative in Transcending Ethnic Boundaries It is clear that there remain subgroups in the Jesus-community that can compete for exemplarity. Luke reports “believers who belonged to the sect of the Pharisees” (15:5), as well as those who advocate for the incorporation of non-Israelites as non-Israelites. In light of all the possible logic-arguments of these competing groups, the primary mode of argument is testimony to God’s action by the Spirit. Peter testifies to three ways God has navigated the ethnic barrier. (1) “God mad a choice among you, that I should be the one through whom the non-Israelites would hear the message of the good news and become believers” (15:7). (2) “God, who knows the human heart, testified to them by giving them the Holy Spirit just as he did to us” (15:8). (3) “He has made no distinction between them and us” (15:9). Paul and Barnabas add to Peter’s testimony: “They told of all the signs and wonders that God had done through them among the non-Israelites” (15:12). James continues, “God first looked favorably upon the non-Israelites to take from among them a people for his name” (15:14). Finally, the letter itself highlights the coinherence between the decision of the council and the action of the Spirit: “For it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to impose on you no further burden than these essentials” (15:28). This latter text is especially telling. It is the Jerusalem believers’ way of saying, in essence, “We have seen that the Spirit has not imposed the requirements of ethnic Israel upon the nonIsraelites.” This accords well with other strands of reasoning in the early Jesus-movement, perhaps most notably Gal 3:1–5. For Luke, it is the Spirit alone who can navigate the ethnic social boundary and create a social identity that can preserve ethnic particularity while transcending it in a superordinate identity centered upon Jesus. (15:1–35) The Triple Telling of Cornelius’s Conversion Emphasizes the Spirit’s Work at the Level of Social Identity Luke tells the story of Cornelius’s conversion three times (10:1–48; 11:1–18; 15:7–11). Acts 15 provides the briefest account, and the lack even of Cornelius’s name indicates that the most salient layer of identity is Cornelius’s social identity. He is simply one of the non-Israelites. As with Saul’s encounter with Jesus, repetition of Cornelius’s story also has a consistent three-part core—though it is thematic more than verbatim. (1) The Spirit bears witness to those who have been incorporated into the Jesus-group (10:44–47; 11:15–17; 15:8). (2) God has refused to make a distinction based upon ethnicity (10:20, 27–28, 34–45; 11:12; 15:9). (3) To ask for more from the non-Israelites is to stand in opposition to God (10:47; 11:17; 15:10). Read in light of the Pentecost conviction that the Spirit marks those who belong to God, this triple telling of the Cornelius narrative emphasizes that it is the Spirit who navigates the social boundary, identifying non-Israelites as belonging to God and incorporating them as sisters and brothers of the Israelite Jesus-followers.

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(15:1–35) Spirit-Formed Trans-ethnic Identity that Preserves Ethnic Particularity Is Both the Telos of Israel’s Covenantal Identity and the Result of Rightly Oriented Worship. Luke’s facility with Israelite and non-Israelite linguistic and ethnic conventions has been displayed throughout Luke and Acts, so it is not coincidental that Luke places the definitive proclamation about the incorporation of non-Israelites as non-Israelites on the lips of James, one of the most prototypical Israelite members of the early Jesus-group. Throughout Luke-Acts, Luke has been emphatic that power, status, and identity—even Israelite covenantal identity, especially as embodied by Jesus—is rightly deployed only when it is leveraged for the flourishing of others. Luke has moved relentlessly toward a climactic moment where Israel’s covenantal identity—manifest in Jesus’s exemplary actions and the Spirit-empowered Jesus-group—comes to its fruition in the incorporation of non-Israelites. James’s speech makes Israelite ethnicity salient on multiple levels. He addresses the allIsraelite crowd as “brothers” (15:13). He refers to Peter as Simeon, the most Hebraicized version of his name in Luke-Acts (15:14). He reasons through the prophetic witness (Amos 9:11–12 LXX). Toward this latter point, Bauckham shows Luke’s awareness of Hebrew texts (Bauckham, “Restoration,” 435–87), a fact that makes the deliberate use of an Old Greek text important. A comparison of the received MT version of Amos 9:12b compared with the LXX shows the significance of the choice. MT: That they may possess the remnant of Edom and all the nations over whom my name is called (my translation). LXX: In order that they might seek me, the rest of the peoples and all the non-Israelites upon whom my name has been called (my translation). In the Hebrew text, the nations are possessed by Israel. In the Greek reading, non-Israelites are not subjugated to Israelites, but are members of the people over whom God’s name is called. Luke sets this incorporative text, which imagines a multiethnic people of God who retain ethnic particularity, in the context of James’s activation of salient Israelite identity. The move shows Luke’s conviction that incorporation of non-Israelites as non-Israelites is precisely the telos of Israel’s high-status covenantal identity. Israel is chosen for their own good and for the good of all the nations. So much has been written about the logic of the prohibitions of the Jerusalem Decree that it is not possible to fully address the options here (see Kuecker, 207–10 for a brief discussion). My reading largely follows Witherington, who argues the four prohibitions (things devoted to idols, temple prostitution, strangled things, and blood [15:20]), should not be taken as related to particular Mosaic injunctions but to general avoidance of the trappings of Greco-Roman worship (Witherington, 460–67). The prohibitions in the decree can reasonably be understood as practices associating a person with worship of pagan gods. To this end, then, the only Israelite identity marker that non-Israelites are asked to take up is to worship the true God, revealed through Jesus by the Spirit. This moves the intergroup boundary from a primarily ethnic boundary to a boundary based upon worship of the true God made known in Jesus. Non-Israelites bear witness to their social identity not by taking up Israelite ethnic practices (cf. 15:1, 5), but by replacing pagan worship with the worship of God revealed by Jesus. Luke closes the pericope with the multiethnic community in Antioch, who experience joy at the announcement of their welcome into the Jesus-group as co-equal members alongside Israelite Jesus-followers (15:30–31). 237

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Internal and External Challenges to Shared Social Identity on the Second Journey (15:36–18:28) (15:36–41) Dissension Demonstrates that Shared Identities Are Tenuous Following the Jerusalem Council, Paul’s exhibits a shift in categorical social identification. He suggests they return to “visit the brothers in every city where we proclaimed the word of the Lord and see how they are doing” (15:36). The use of “brothers” reveals shared trans-ethnic identity and concern for the well-being of those brothers marks the allocentric identity the Spirit has been cultivating. But, there is a dispute so sharp between Paul and Barnabas that they parted company, Barnabas taking Mark to Cyprus and Paul taking Silas toward Syria and Cilicia. Barnabas favored bringing Mark, whose abandonment of Paul and Barnabas in Pamphylia had—for Paul, at least—disqualified him from service. Perhaps Paul thought Mark’s self-regard made him aprototypical enough that he put the Jesus-group at risk. Or, perhaps Paul allowed another identity factor (such as loyalty to Paul) to take precedence over fidelity to Jesus. In either case, the dispute is severe enough to sever the partnership between Paul and Barnabas. Its inclusion in Acts underscores Luke’s realism and unwillingness to paper over challenges to the community. (16:1–5) Timothy Surrenders His Rights for the Sake of the Ethnic Other Timothy’s introduction into the narrative raises the complexity of social identities. The complexity arises from Timothy’s multiethnic background, with a Greek father and Jesus-following Israelite mother (16:1). According to the Jerusalem Council, there is no reason that Timothy would require circumcision. Yet the text narrates Paul’s decision to have Timothy circumcised “because of the Israelites” in Derbe and Lystra (16:3). It is difficult to say whether the “Israelites” in question were members or the Jesus-group or not. In either case, though, the circumcision of Timothy was linked to the task of delivering “for observance the decisions that had been reached by the apostles and elders who were in Jerusalem” (16:4). Timothy’s accession to circumcision appears to exemplify unwillingness to utilize one’s rights if there is a chance that self-regard would case difficulty for another. In this case, Timothy and Paul acknowledge the significance of not offending the consciences of scrupulous Israelites—whether those are inside or outside the Jesus-group. (16:6–40) Alternative Models of Social Power in Philippi Through a vision, the Spirit guides Paul and Timothy toward Macedonia and continues to direct the incorporation of others into the Jesus-group (16:6, 9–10). Arriving in Philippi, Paul and Timothy immediately found their way to a traditional Sabbath gathering place for diaspora Israelites (16:13). The practice of seeking out Israelite gathering spaces indicates that Paul still values his Israelite identity and, in some ways, continues to see the gospel working through Israel to the nations. Paul’s engagement includes direct contact with women, including Lydia, a non-Israelite God-worshipper (16:14). Lydia’s incorporation into the Jesus-group, through baptism, results in hospitality toward—and interethnic table fellowship with—Paul and Timothy. The narrative of the Philippian slave girl gives further insight into Luke’s assumptions about the use of power and resources outside of the Jesus-group. As is the case with most demonoppressed characters in the narrative, the unnamed girl has uncanny perception into the identity of Jesus: “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation”

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(16:17). Her prescience is leveraged by her owners to make a hefty profit through fortunetelling (16:16). The brief description of this oppressive action is grotesque, as power-holders take advantage of a troubled girl for selfish gain. One wishes that Paul acted sooner to deliver the girl, but the text indicates that she proclaimed Paul’s identity for many days before he became “annoyed” and exorcised the spirit (16:18). It is uncertain why Paul waits so long, and the delay is not his finest moment. The exorcism of the spirit eliminates profit for the girl’s owners. This enrages them, and they bring Paul and Silas before the magistrates (16:19). The charge of “disturbing our city” shows how tenuous ethnic boundaries could be (16:20). The charge equates their Israelite identity with ethnic practices that transgress Roman cultural norms: “They are Judeans and are advocating customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to adopt or observe” (16:21). It is not only Israelites who closely guard their ethnic practices. The characteristic violence outside the Jesus-group is again enacted to enforce a social boundary: Paul and Silas are flogged and imprisoned (16:24). The violent earthquake that frees Paul and Silas from prison leads to another expression of the exemplary enemy love of the Jesus-group. The jailer, seeing that he had failed to secure his prisoners, “was about to kill himself ” (16:27). Paul shouted for the jailer to not harm himself and—astonishingly—reveals that rather than flee the prisoners have remained, unfastened, in their open cells (16:28). Paul and Silas turn toward the jailer in an act of enemy love, inviting the one who had imprisoned them to join their group: “Believe on the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household” (16:21). The jailer’s transformation was immediate, evident in radical generosity earlier exemplified by the merciful Samaritan in Luke 10:25–37. He washes the wounds of his former prisoners before they, in turn, baptize him and his entire family (16:33). The scene ends with the markers of a Jesus-following micro-community—joy and table fellowship (16:34). Paul’s nested identity—he is a Jesus-follower, an Israelite, and a Roman citizen—is displayed in 16:37. He uses his citizenship to ensure that he and Silas are given safe passage from the city. Paul is not afraid to operate with political savvy, though this is never to the detriment of the other. (17:1–15) Paul’s and Silas’s Disregard for Typical Identity Conventions Makes Them Vulnerable Arriving in Thessalonica, Paul and Silas again go to Israelite space (17:1) where Paul deploys Israelite modes of reasoning—arguing “from the scriptures, explaining and proving that it was necessary for the Messiah to suffer and to rise from the dead” and that the Messiah was Jesus (17:3). Some Israelites, Greeks, and leading women “joined Paul and Silas” (17:4). These identity transformations raised the jealousy of Israelites outside the Jesus-group who, along with “ruffians in the market places” (17:5), turned to mob violence and dragged Jason and other Jesus-followers from his home. The charge leveled before the politarchs reveals something of the perception about the Jesus-group in its context: “These people who have been turning the world upside down have come here also and Jason has entertained them as guests. They are all acting contrary to the decrees of the emperor, saying that there is another king named Jesus” (17:6–7). Three factors are noteworthy. First, social transgression assumed by the mob is apparent in the charge that “Jason has entertained them as guests.” Something about the reputation of the Jesusgroup makes them unworthy of being entertained as guests. Second, the charge that they “have been turning the world upside down” likely concerns the group’s disregard of social customs

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related to status, honor, and identity concerns. This is punctuated by the claim that “they are acting contrary to the decrees of the emperor,” whose word ordered the Empire according to strict patronage and status concerns. Finally, there is clear evidence that the lordship of Jesus is viewed as a threat to imperial claims. Luke is very savvy about imperial concerns, and here describes an implicit transgression of both social norms and the sociopolitical structures used to maintain order in the empire. Luke depicts a wider-spread awareness that the Jesus-group is not organizing itself according to typical social concerns. Escaping after paying what amounted to a bribe (17:9), Paul and Silas arrived in Beroea. Despite their ongoing experience of violent harassment by some Israelites, they continue to go first to Israelite spaces (17:10). Allocentric enemy love continues to mark these exemplars of the community. Again, Paul and Silas’s turn toward Israelites was met with violence (17:13), which resulted in Paul traveling to Athens, apart from Silas and Timothy (17:14–15). (17:16–34) Paul’s Speech in Athens Demonstrates a Rhetoric of Allocentric Hospitality Postmodern and critical theorists have, for decades, demonstrated that metanarratives can be deployed in exploitative ways. One feature of Luke’s representation of Paul’s preaching is Paul’s unwillingness to position Israel’s covenantal metanarrative as the only way to tell the story of God’s regard for all peoples through Jesus. Paul deploys the covenantal narrative in Israelite contexts, but in non-Israelite contexts Paul tells the story of God’s love for all peoples with different—more culturally accessible—entry points. This is a rhetorical act of neighborly love. For example, in Athens Paul demonstrates that non-Israelites have been objects of God’s concern from creation and now is the time when the belovedness of the nations is being revealed more fully to them, in and through Jesus—the resurrected Lord. Paul’s emotional reaction in Athens is different than in other cities on his journey. He was “deeply distressed to see that the city was full of idols” (17:16). The only other time Luke uses this word for “provocation” or “distress” is to describe the dispute that ruptured the partnership between Paul and Barnabas (15:39). While Paul had been to cities hostile to the Jesus-group—the proliferation of idol worship in Athens is particularly grievous. The Jerusalem Decree established that idol worship (rather than ethnicity or ethnically particular practices) would be the central defining criteria for outgroups. So perhaps Paul’s distress is linked to Luke’s equation of overt idol worship with identity outside the Jesus-group. Even in Athens, Paul’s strategy remained primarily to argue in the synagogue, though Luke does name engagement with “devout persons, and also those in the market-place” (17:17). His public proclamation raises an intergroup reaction. He is branded a “babbler” (spermologos), which is a significant insult (17:18). His “babbling” is connected to the proclamation of Jesus’s resurrection, which some Athenians branded as proclamation of “foreign divinities” (17:18), which also indicates the salience of the ethnic boundary between Paul and the Athenians. Luke, for his part, also makes assumptions about outgroup homogeneity, writing that “all the Athenians and foreigners living there would spend their time in nothing but telling or hearing something new” (17:21). The hyperbolic application of “If you have seen one, you have seen them all” is at home in intergroup differentiation and is operative for Luke here. Paul’s speech is a rhetorical masterpiece and bears more reflection than space here provides. From a social identity perspective, we can watch Paul make several moves toward the Athenian thought and practice, even approvingly citing a Stoic philosopher in 17:28. Paul praises the piety 240

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of the Athenians (17:22) and makes a bold claim that—based on their worship of the “unknown god” (17:23)—aligns their practice with the practices of the Jesus-group. That is, Paul claims that their worship of the unknown god is, indeed, preliminary to worship of the God revealed in and by Jesus. Paul works to show how Athenian piety, when fully informed, could actually be oriented toward the worship of the Creator, who is revealed by Jesus. Paul’s sermon ends without mentioning the name of Jesus. Instead, he speaks about the sufficiency of the Creator, who does not need human-built shrines and who has made all the nations (ethnē). The telos of the nations is to “search for God and perhaps grope for him and find him—though indeed he is not far from each of us” (17:27). Paul has deftly interpreted the Athenians’ worship of the “unknown god” as the flowering of the plan of the God who has made the nations so that they might search for and find him. In other words, things for the Athenians are happening precisely according to God’s plan. Yet Paul carefully and clearly holds idol worship as a practice that stands as a barrier to the incorporation of these Athenians. Precisely because God is so close even to the nations, “we ought not think that the deity is like gold, or silver, or stone, and image formed by the art and imagination of mortals” (17:29). While God had allowed the nations to “grope for him” and had “overlooked the times of human ignorance” (17:27, 30), he has—in Jesus—revealed himself more fully and now commands the repentance of all humans everywhere (17:30). NonIsraelites must abandon idolatry to join the Jesus-group. But Paul’s use of the plural “humans” (anthrōpois) for those receiving God’s command to repent ensures that he does not spotlight the ethnic outgroup with anything not expected of the Israelite ingroup. Worship of the true God, revealed through Jesus—the resurrected one who will judge the world—is the sin qua non for Israelite and non-Israelite participation in the Jesus-group. (18:1–28) Gender, Authority, and Intragroup prototypicality in Corinth, Achaia, and Ephesus The prominence of women in the Jesus-group is a striking feature in Luke’s Gospel and Acts 1. After Acts 1, however, named women become less prominent as leaders in the Jesus-movement. Contrast between the prominence of women in Jesus’s ministry and their relative silence as active characters after Acts 2 could rightly cause us to wonder whether the Jesus-group is adopting prototypical characteristics of patriarchal Roman groups, rather than the more subversive gender relationships in the ministry of Jesus. The appearance of Priscilla and Aquila (18:2) powerfully introduces a female member of the Jesus-group with significant authority and teaching skill. Priscilla and Aquila are introduced as fellow tentmakers with, and hosts of, Paul (18:2–3). They are political refugees, removed from Rome by the decree of Claudius, which itself bears witness to intergroup antagonism. To appreciate the dynamics of gender in this chapter, we should look ahead to vv. 24–28. There we learn that an Israelite in Ephesus named Apollos, who knew only the baptism of John, was speaking “accurately” and “with burning enthusiasm” about Jesus in the synagogue (18:25). Luke’s notation that Apollos knew only the baptism of John hints that he is not fully formed in his understanding. It is striking when Priscilla and Aquila “took him aside and explained the Way of God to him more accurately” (18:26). Without making too much of word order, it is fascinating that Aquila is introduced before Priscilla in 18:2, but when it comes to teaching Apollos, Priscilla is named first. Apollos’s subsequent effectiveness explaining to Israelites from the scriptures “that the Messiah is Jesus” (18:28) reflects Priscilla’s effective teaching ministry and—with it—the significance of female voice and authority in Acts. 241

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The middle section of this chapter demonstrates a variety of intra-ethnic, intragroup processes. While the Jesus-group is now fully trans-ethnic, characters both inside and outside the Jesusgroup must continue to navigate ethnic identities as they become salient. First, Paul’s frustration with Israelites in Corinth causes him again to proclaim that “from now on” he “will go to the non-Israelites” (18:6). The fact immediately after leaving the synagogue, “Crispus, the official of the synagogue, became a believer in the Lord with all his household” (18:8), instructs us that we must read Paul’s words as prophetic hyperbole—or simply personal frustration—rather than the rejection of the Israelite ethnos. Second, the intensity of Israelite opposition to Paul is an effort to maintain ethnic ingroup norms, as Paul’s preaching about Jesus was read by some as a threat to the Israelite ingroup (18:12). SIT has shown that reactions to perceived aprototypical ingroup members can be particularly strong. Third, Gallio’s response to Paul exhibits the ethnic intergroup differentiation that he feels with the Israelite ingroup. He highlights the intra-ethnic nature of these Israelites’ disputes with Paul, noting that they are about “words and names and your own law” (18:15), each of which is a common marker of ethnic identity. Finally, Paul, in Cenchreae, completed an Israelite vow and “had his hair cut” (18:18), clearly continuing to identify, at a subgroup level, as an ethnic Israelite. Curiously, though received well in a synagogue in Ephesus, Paul declined the invitation to stay longer. Instead, Paul went through Jerusalem, Antioch, and then Galatia and Phrygia. His ongoing allocentric practice was “strengthening all the disciples” (18:23).

The Third Journey Ends in Jerusalem, the Heart of Israelite Identity (19:1–21:16) (19:1–7) Where Jesus Is, There, too, Is the Spirit The association between Jesus and the Spirit is foregrounded in 19:1–7. Paul encounters twelve anomalous Jesus-followers in Ephesus who had not received the Spirit. The fact that they believe the resurrection of Jesus is clear from their categorization “disciples” (19:1) and from Paul’s assumption that they have believed, using a participial form of pisteuō. One should pause to ask the rationale behind Paul’s lead question: “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?” (19:2), which implies that some are hearing about Jesus, but not the Spirit. It is plausible, though impossible to say with certainty, that the question is evidence that teaching about Jesus was spreading beyond the Jesus-group—or at least in ways that disconnected the teaching from baptism in Jesus’s name. Paul’s diagnostic question, “Into what then were you baptized?” (19:3) gives some insight into dynamics in the early Jesus-movement. Apparently, some associated Jesus and John the Baptist so closely that they remained Jesus’s followers initiated into John’s baptism (19:3). However, Paul taps into the step parallelism of Luke 1–2, where Jesus is consistently the “greater one” than John, to situate John as a witness to Jesus (19:4). Paul’s remedy is baptism in the name of Jesus (19:5) and then laying on hands to impart the Spirit (19:6). Paul’s action results in the Spirit’s coming “upon them” and the twelve disciples speaking in tongues (19:6). The coming of the Spirit, only after baptism in the name of Jesus, affirms the inseparability of Jesus and the Spirit in the gospel and the Spirit’s role as the marker of affiliation with Jesus in Acts.

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(19:8–41) Social Identity Ramifications of Transformed and Transgressed Practices in Ephesus Paul’s preaching in Ephesus yielded typical, even if more mild, resistance from some synagogue Israelites, who “spoke evil of the Way before the congregation” (19:9). Luke’s use of the “Way” functions as an ethnic intragroup differentiator, and Paul’s exhortation was persuasive enough that some members of the synagogue followed him during his two-year preaching stint in the “lecture hall of Tyrannus” (19:9). Though Luke’s claim that “all the residents of Asia, both Israelites and Greeks” (19:10) heard the word of the Lord is undoubtedly hyperbolic, it is noteworthy that—apparently—Israelites felt comfortable in Tyrannus’s lecture hall. Whether this was a diasporic adaptation or whether the trans-ethnic practices of the Jesus-group was a prototype for this multiethnic curiosity is hard to discern. It may be, however, that Israelite openness to contact with Paul, Greeks, and other Israelites in Tyrannus’s lecture house was a sort of experimentation with the interethnic contact manifest in the Jesus-group. Acts 19:11–20 features one of the more fantastical stories in Acts. In the midst of Paul’s allocentric healing ministry (19:11–12), seven sons of an Israelite high priest “tried to use the name of the Lord Jesus over those who had evil spirits” (19:13). This appears to be another example, on the heels of vv. 8–10, of Israelites “testing out” practices related to Jesus. The fact that these were sons of a high priest shows how persuasive the Jesus-movement was becoming in some Israelite circles. Luke makes it clear, in a jarring scene, that the demons associated God’s power with Paul and with Jesus—but not with these seven (19:15), who appear not to have been members of the Jesus-group. It is no longer surprising that the result of demonic power is violence, manifest in the oppressed man attacking the seven sons, who are powerless in response. Luke roots power in affiliation with Jesus, not merely the use of Jesus’s name as an incantation. Practitioners of magic appear to have come to a similar conclusion. “Many of those who became believers confessed and disclosed their practices” (19:18) and then publicly burned their books of magic (19:19). The name of Jesus is no talisman, and the transformed practice of the magicians demonstrates a real change. As has been Luke’s habit, the righting of community practices in Ephesus results in the growth of the community, as “the word of the Lord grew mightily and prevailed” (19:20). The burning of the magic books can be read as a sort of radical self-disregard, and it is no surprise that—upon taking that step of repentance—the community flourished. Relationships between cultic practices, idol worship, economics, and social identity intersect in the story of Demetrius the silversmith (19:23–41). Demetrius presents a gathering of silversmiths with a reasonable approximation of Paul’s preaching in non-Israelite contexts: “saying that gods made with hands are not gods” (19:26). Demetrius’s worry is couched as both economic concern and ethnic (or at least regional) pride: “There is danger not only that this trade of ours may come into disrepute but also that the temple of the great goddess Artemis will be scorned, and she will be deprived of her majesty that brought all Asia and the world to worship her” (19:27). As was the case in Luke 4 where residents of Nazareth assumed that honor for Jesus would accrue to their benefit, residents of Ephesus are aware that their collective honor and their wealth are tied to the cultic worship of Artemis. The uproar that ensues is an example of one of the ways that groups can deal with perceived deviance that produces identity threat. SIT shows that external threat—often from low-status groups that are feared to threaten the purity of high-status groups—can lead to heightened ingroup bias (Kuecker, 31). Heightened ingroup bias correlates to increasing intergroup confrontation— and here we have an example of social competition, a status race that manifests itself in protest 243

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and violence (Kuecker, 32). The chaotic nature of the crowd (19:32) is evidence of the way that social processes can have a power that can appear to circumvent personal agency. The ingroup bias of the Ephesians is further heightened when the crowd puts forward Alexander, an Israelite. The intensity of the ingroup bias is profound: “For about two hours they all shouted in unison, ‘Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!’” (19:34). The complexity of the social identities on display in this text is capped by the arrival of the town clerk of Ephesus (19:35). He navigates his Ephesian identity, as well as his political identity. He affirms the former, proclaiming the undeniable fame of Ephesus as temple-keeper for Artemis (19:35). The latter, though, is an example of awareness of competing demands between varying identities. He recognizes that the crowd risks being charged with “rioting” (stasis, 19:40), and he fears the ire of imperial overlords and the way that his inability to maintain civic order would threaten his high-status civic identity. He urges a return to the order of the courts and proconsuls so as not to draw the attention of Rome. Clearly, Ephesian identity was high-status relative to the Jesus-group, but low-status relative to Roman imperial power-holders. This narrative shows the interaction of these complex identity-related issues. (Acts 20:1–38) The Intensity of Ingroup Identification in the Ephesian Jesus-Group Acts 20:1–6 provides a travelogue of Paul’s journey to Troas. His interactions along the way were marked with allocentric practices of generosity and neighborly love and he expended himself in giving Jesus-followers “encouragement with many words” (20:2, my translation). Paul’s “many words” are the tragically comical setting for a subsequent exercise of power for the sake of the other. Paul’s lengthy speaking—until midnight! (20:7)—resulted in the young man Eutychus’s falling asleep and out a window to his death. Paul gathered Eutychus in his arms and declared there to be, “life in him” (20:10). He then went back upstairs, took food, and spoke until dawn (!). The healing miracle—like Paul’s many words throughout Macedonia—left the Jesusfollowers in Troas “encouraged” (20:12, my translation). Paul’s journey picked up speed toward Jerusalem, a destination he hoped to make by Pentecost (20:16). Paul’s destination is evidence of his ongoing Israelite identification. To save time, Paul bypassed Ephesus, but he arranged a meeting with Ephesian Jesus-followers at Miletus. Paul’s farewell address in 20:18–35 (1) marks his relationship to the community, (2) marks Jesus’s relationship to the community, and (3) marks the community leaders’ relationship to the community. The speech is fertile soil for understanding Luke’s vision for the exemplary characteristics of leaders and exemplary practices of power-holders. That vision is ultimately rooted in a Jesus saying not recorded in the gospel.

1.  Paul’s Relationship to the Jesus-Group and Paul’s Use of Power Paul’s autobiographical account of his time in Ephesus foregrounds, even as the prominent leader of the community, his humility, perseverance, and his willingness to do “anything helpful” (20:20). His preaching, to Israelites and non-Israelites, was “repentance towards God and faith toward our Lord Jesus” (20:21). Readers have already experienced the social and personal cost of Paul’s concern for all humans, yet Paul’s self-disregard is remarkable. Paul is “captive to the Spirit” (20:22), who, “testifies to me in every city that imprisonment and persecutions are waiting for me” (20:23). Yet Paul’s concern with his own identity, power, and status is not selfish exploitation, but the flourishing of others. 20:24, in particular, is resonant with Philippians 1. 244

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Near the end of the address, Paul attests that he has “coveted no one’s silver, gold, or clothing” but that he worked to show that “by such work we must support the weak” (20:33, 25). For Paul, power is used for the sake of the other and one’s relationship to the Jesus-group is defined by seeking its good above one’s own good.

2.  Jesus’s Relationship to the Jesus-Group and Jesus’s Use of Power Paul’s brief words about Jesus profoundly underscore Jesus’s exemplary use of power. Paul claims that the leaders in Ephesus should “shepherd the church of God that he obtained with his own blood” (20:28, my translation). The Greek text of this important construction is somewhat challenging. A textual variant replaces “God” with “Lord,” which would avoid using “God” to describe “Jesus,” a move that is not clearly made in Acts, even if Jesus, in Luke-Acts, says and does things that only God can say and do. In either case, Jesus is described as having offered himself for the flourishing of the church. His power is used for the flourishing of his people. This is underscored dramatically by the Jesus saying in 20:35: “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” This extra-gospel Jesus saying encapsulates the allocentric identity of God, exemplified by Jesus, made possible for Jesus’s people by the Holy Spirit. It is the foundation of God’s life in Christ, and the foundation of the life of the community.

3.  Paul’s Exhortation about the Community Leaders’ Relationship to the Community and Their Use of Power The Ephesian leaders are called to expend themselves in a Paul-and-Jesus-like manner. They are to “keep watch over yourselves and over all the flock, of which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to shepherd the church of God” (20:28). The invocation of the Spirit here is a clue that the leadership of the elders in Ephesus must be for the good of the other, even if that leadership puts the elders at risk from “savage wolves” (20:29) and if “some even from your own group” will entice disciples away (20:30). The exemplary leadership of Paul and Jesus, giving rather than receiving, supporting especially the weak, forms the foundation for leadership in the Jesusgroup. This exemplary use of power, identity, and status tracks with the trajectory established in Jesus’s Spirit-empowered life in Luke and now forms the pattern of the entire community—and the leaders in particular. (21:1–16) The Spirit Sends Mixed Messages to a Community of Deep Solidarity One of the more confusing features of the closing section of Acts is the Spirit’s apparently conflicting direction concerning Paul’s visit to Jerusalem. Paul is confident that the Spirit is bringing him to Jerusalem (20:22). Yet in Tyre, a group of disciples told Paul “through the Spirit” not to go to Jerusalem (21:4). Agabus, the prophet, shortly thereafter binds himself in a prophetic sign-act and proclaims, “Thus says the Holy Spirit, ‘This is the way the Israelites in Jerusalem will bind the man who owns this belt and will hand him over to the non-Israelites’” (21:11). The latter saying is not a claim that Paul ought not go to Jerusalem, and Paul’s response—that he is “ready not only to be bound but even to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus” (21:13)—is certainly an example of Paul’s full identification with Jesus and his self-disregard. At a very basic level, the early section of Acts 21 shows a high level of ingroup solidarity at every turn. The intensity of ingroup relationships across Paul’s journeys is evident in 20:36–37; 21:5–6, 12–14, 16. This high level of ingroup identification, according to SIT, heightens outgroup 245

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differentiation and would lead one to expect it to be accompanied by outgroup derogation. The fact that the ingroup and its exemplars continue to seek the good even of enemies is testimony to Luke’s vision for the transformational effect of the Spirit in and through the Jesus-group.

Paul’s Allocentric Identity, from Jerusalem to Rome (21:17–28:30) (21:17–23:30) Paul Navigates Jesus-Group, Ethnic, and Roman Social Identities in Jerusalem Paul’s arrival in Jerusalem provides a fascinating window into the risky complexity of social identity in the Roman Empire for Israelites in general, and for Jesus-following Israelites in particular. The intragroup tension that greets Paul in Jerusalem is presaged by the fact that the very thing that elicits joy for Israelite Jesus-followers in Jerusalem (here named as the “brothers”) was the work of God done among non-Israelites (21:18–19). Their joyous response indicates the degree to which they have already adopted the allocentric trans-ethnic social identity, which—by the Spirit’s persistent work—transcends ethnic identity but retains it at a subgroup level. Yet 21:20 reveals the complexity of inhabiting Jesus-group identity as an Israelite. Mid-verse, there is an abrupt shift. The NRSV renders the text, “When they heard it, they praised God. Then they said to him, ‘You see, brother, how many thousands of believers there are among the Israelites, and they are all zealous for the law.’” The Greek lacks the use of “then” as a coordinating conjunction with a temporal force, which separates the ingroup’s praise of God and their contextual awareness. The Greek, more literally, reads: “When they heard it, they praised God and said to him, ‘You see, brother . . .’” In other words, the joy about non-Israelite inclusion immediately activates concerns surrounding the ethnic practices of Israelites—even Israelite Jesus-followers. They tell Paul that he is reputed to “teach all the Israelites living among the non-Israelites to forsake Moses,” and “tell them not to circumcise their children or observe the customs” (21:21). We have not seen evidence of this in Acts and, to the contrary, Paul has continued Israelite observances and even had Timothy circumcised in order to show ongoing respect for Mosaic practices. The spread of this rumor among Israelite Jesus-followers reveals the strength of their ethnic identification and the way subgroup salience is heightened on the basis of intergroup contact. Contact with nonIsraelites heightens Israelite ethnic identification—and the anxiety erupts into rumors about Paul. It is clear that the Jerusalem Decree—referenced again in 21:25—had not definitively settled issues of identity and practice for Israelite believers in Jerusalem, at least. Paul submitted to the advice of Israelite believers in Jerusalem, and underwent a rite of purification, also paying for the rite for four other Israelite believers (21:23–24, 26). Paul’s accession demonstrates his ongoing Israelite practice, and also—importantly—demonstrates Paul’s willingness to submit, in a context that is all about identity, to the needs of others so as to seek the good of the wider community. Once more, Paul is an exemplar in deploying his identity for the good of the other. Paul’s action may have assuaged anxiety among Jesus-following Israelites, but Israelites who do not follow Jesus charge Paul with exhibiting identity and practice that is aprototypical and that threatens Israelite identity. The ethnic salience is high: “Fellow Israelites, help! This is the man who is teaching everyone everywhere against our people, our law, and this place; more than that, he has actually brought Greeks into the temple and has defiled this holy place” (21:28). The charge runs right down the list of ethnic identity makers: people, praxis, place (Hutchison and Smith, 6–7). The purity ethic, often present when a higher-status group fears the influence of a lower-status group, is evidenced in the literal purging of Paul from sacred temple space 246

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and sealing it off behind him (21:30). In this case, Paul’s Israelite identity is so far from the projected prototypicality of these select power-holders that he is deemed worthy of death. Again, the impulse of groups not following Jesus is to treat the other with violence, and this group was “trying to kill” Paul (21:31). Complex identity negotiation emerges once more with the arrival of the tribune, soldiers, and centurions. While the Israelites attacking Paul were higher status vis-à-vis the Jesus-group, they are low status in an intergroup context that includes Roman military leaders. The outgroup threat from the Roman presence stops the physical violence, but not the violent intent of the crowd. In an ironic scene, Paul is rescued from his fellow Israelites by Roman oppressors (21:36). Paul’s facility in intergroup contexts is impressive, and he clearly understands that his multiple social identities are assets to be used in service of the mission of Jesus and the life of the Jesusgroup—and, in this case, his own ability to bear witness in Jerusalem. Paul deftly utilized Greek to privately confer with the tribune, and his use of Greek secured the attention of this Roman leader (21:37). The tribune needs to be found keeping the imperial order in Rome. He understands his relative status vis-à-vis Caesar, and Paul’s use of Greek convinces the tribune that Paul is not a known leader of a rebellion (21:38). Paul, speaking Greek, testifies to his Israelite identity and his Roman citizenship in order to persuade the tribune to let him address the people—in Aramaic. (22:1–30) Paul Exemplifies the Jesus-Group’s Transgression of Some Israelite Social Identity Norms Paul’s linguistic switch from Greek to Aramaic (21:40) demonstrates again the multilingual context of Jerusalem and the wider empire. Here, Paul leverages a higher-status language (among Israelites) to demonstrate solidarity with his ethnic kinfolk. His address, “Brothers and fathers” (22:1), situates himself within the ethnic ingroup, and his autobiography is an impressive account of Israelite identity. Paul, an Israelite from the diaspora but raised in Jerusalem, was taught the Mosaic Law by Gamaliel—an important and respected teacher, and possessed Maccabee-like zeal for God (22:3). This is the first time Paul reflects backward on his persecution of members of the Way (which, here, remains an intragroup distinction for Israelite Jesus-followers), noting that he had acted in concert with leaders in Jerusalem and Damascus to bring believers “back to Jerusalem for punishment” (22:4–5). In the second of Paul’s three accounts of his experience with Jesus, he identifies the Jesus-group inseparably with the risen and ascended Jesus (22:7–8). Whatever Israelites in Jerusalem make of Jesus and the followers of the Way, Paul makes it clear that he sees the two as inseparably united. Paul continues to leverage Israelite identity in his telling of his encounter with Jesus, presenting Ananias as “a devout man according to the law and well-spoken of by all the Israelites” in Damascus (22:12). In this hostile Jerusalem context, Paul does not speak of the fact that Ananias originally explicitly named non-Israelites as the recipients of Paul’s message. He notes only that Paul will “be his [Jesus’s] witness to all the world of what you have seen and heard” (22:15). Paul tells this story with language of covenantal election: “The God of our ancestors has chosen you to know his will, to see the Righteous One and to hear his own voice” (22:14). In this way, Paul continues to position incorporation of non-Israelites as the telos of Israel’s privileged covenantal identity. For Paul, Israel is blessed by God for its own sake and for the sake of the nations. This account of Paul’s encounter with Jesus includes important material not mentioned in Acts 9. Paul recounts another vision of Jesus, who warned him to leave Jerusalem (22:18). Paul’s response to Jesus indicates his awareness that identification with the Jesus-group puts him out of step enough 247

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with his Israelite kinfolk that he faces danger. We do not have access to Paul’s psychological processes, but he appears to fear being known as a defender of—and then a traitor toward—exemplary Israelite practices. There is poignant vulnerability in Paul’s recounting this publicly in Jerusalem. It is Jesus himself, in Paul’s telling, who authorizes the turn toward non-Israelites: “Go, for I will send you far away to the non-Israelites” (22:21). This Jesus-mandated inclusion of non-Israelites causes an explosive response from the crowd, and highlights the salience of the ethnic boundary, “Away with such a fellow from the earth! For he should not be allowed to live” (22:23). The mob violence escalated immediately, and in an ironic moment Paul is again saved by the Roman tribune—though this time to be examined by flogging outside the angry crowd’s gaze (22:23–24). Paul again deploys one of his identities in favor of his own safety. He names his Roman citizenship to a supervising centurion—a useful card to play at multiple points in Acts (22:25). The power of privilege manifest in Roman citizenship is evident in the immediate action of the centurion, who reports to the tribune. The response is powerful, as “the tribune was also was afraid, for he realized that Paul was a Roman citizen and that he had bound him” (22:29). The tribune’s navigation of identity issues is fascinating. He is no longer willing to have a nonIsraelite interrogate Paul. Instead, he arranges for Paul to stand before the chief priests and the council—protecting himself by locating Paul’s interrogation as an intra-Israelite matter (22:30). The identity negotiation in Acts 22 is fascinating and multiple features appear in rapid succession. Israelite believers in Jerusalem rejoice at non-Israelite inclusion, but worry that Paul is teaching Israelites to abandon covenantal practices. In light of this, Paul submits to an Israelite purity practice. Paul’s opponents accuse him of undermining the people, practices, and sacred places of the Israelite ethnos. Paul leverages his Greek ethnolinguistic identity to gain a hearing with the tribune. Following this, Paul leverages his Aramaic ethnolinguistic identity, his ethnic ancestry, and prototypical upbringing to gain a hearing with Jerusalem Israelites. Paul cannot hide the fact that Jesus himself sent him to non-Israelites, which is an interethnic transgression that so serious that the Jerusalem crowd thinks Paul deserves immediate death. Finally, Paul leverages his Roman citizenship to stop his beating at the hands of the tribune in Jerusalem. Throughout, Paul portrays a savvy awareness of the intersection between his various nested identities and the concerns of various groups in his context. All of this, always for Paul, is in service of his intent to keep on bearing witness to Jesus before power-holders and the people. (Acts 23:1–11) Paul Uses Intragroup Tensions to Stir Up Dissention within the Israelite Leaders The complex negotiation of identity continues as Paul stands before the high priest and the council in Acts 23. Paul’s Israelite self-identification is foregrounded with his word of address, “Men, brothers” (23:1). He does not get far before the high priest orders Paul to be struck on the mouth (23:2). Paul responds with uncharacteristically violent speech, only to retract his words upon learning he was speaking against the high priest (23:3–5). This quick retraction, undergirded by Paul’s citation of Exodus 22:27, clearly emphasizes his Israelite identity and piety. Paul’s next strategy deftly activated subgroup identities among the Israelite leaders. Though the superordinate identity “Israelite” united the leaders in the room, at a subgroup level there were multiple other groups. Subgroup identities become salient in the presence of proximate comparative groups. In this case, Paul leverages his identity as a Pharisee to activate an intergroup dynamic between Pharisees and Sadducees. For the first time in Acts, Paul identifies himself as a Pharisee (23:6). Paul uses that Pharisaic identity to touch on the most significant intergroup tension

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between Pharisees and Sadducees: “I am on trial concerning the resurrection of the dead” (23:6). Luke alerts hearers to the tension between Sadducees and Pharisees (23:8), and the fireworks that emerge show a typical intragroup process among subgroups contending for exemplary belief and practice. Luke again situates violence as characteristic of non-Jesus-following groups, and here the intragroup dissension “became violent” enough that the tribune ordered the soldiers to return Paul to the barracks (23:10). For Luke, only the Jesus-group responds to intergroup difference with hospitality, peace, and allocentric concern. Every other group in the text has a bent toward violence at the seams of social identity. Earlier in the text, we learned that the Spirit’s direct speech always sends Jesus-followers to the ethnic other. The same can now be said for Jesus’s direct speech to Paul, beyond the invariable kernel of his Damascus Road encounter. Here, “the Lord stood near” Paul and told him that he would “bear witness also in Rome” (23:11). Jesus, too, always sends his people outward toward the not-yet-incorporated other. (23:12–30) Non-Jesus-Followers Demonstrate Some Interethnic Flexibility Luke’s critique of some Israelite leaders’ inability to countenance the incorporation of non-Israelites occurring inside the Jesus-group is heightened in 22:12–30. It was common in Luke for aprototypical characters to exemplify attributes of the Jesus-group (e.g., Samaritans in Luke 10; 17; the woman in Luke 7). Here, the Roman tribune is open to testimony from an Israelite and he acts decisively to defend Paul. In particular, some Israelites took a vow to abstain from food or drink until they had killed Paul. The sheer intensity of their violent intent is jarring (23:12–15). Paul’s nephew—the son of his sister—discovered the plot and gained access to the barracks to inform Paul, who asks the centurion to send the boy to the tribune (23:16). It is striking that the centurion heeded Paul’s request and that the tribune heeded the tip of Paul’s nephew (23:17–21). In this way, at least, these Romans show more interethnic flexibility than some Israelites. The tribune acted with secrecy, haste, and power—providing two centurions, two hundred soldiers, seventy horsemen, and two hundred spearmen—to escort Paul, under the cover of darkness, to Felix the governor in Caesarea (23:23–24). The sheer display of power by the tribune, Claudius Lysias, depicts the relatively low status of even the Israelite power-holders in the face of Roman imperial rule. The letter from Claudius to Felix depicts the way Paul’s multiple social identities create lessthan-clean investigatory lines for Claudius. Paul is an enemy of the Judeans (which is of no real concern for Rome), and the charges against him are only about Judean laws (23:27–29). But Paul is also a Roman citizen, which affords him certain protections (23:27). Claudius is left in a pinch, and so he sends him to Felix to gain clarity on what “what they have against him” (23:30), since the reaction to Paul seems disproportionately intense. Felix, in Caesarea, immediately questions Paul’s regional identity: “He asked what province he belonged to” (23:35). Learning Paul was from Cilicia, he then decided to keep Paul in Herod’s headquarters while awaiting Paul’s accusers (23:35). The activation of Herod at this point in the text highlights the ambiguity of his complicity with Roman rule. (24:1–27) Israelites Link Imperial Stability with Israelite Ethnic Concerns; Paul Establishes the Resurrection of Jesus as Key to Israelite Ethnic and Cultic Practices The intensity of the intra-Israelite charges against Paul is highlighted by the haste with which the high priest, elders, and an attorney made the trip from Jerusalem to Caesarea (24:1). Their accusations against Paul

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reveal both their low-status identity in Rome and their persistent concern with Paul’s perceived ethnic transgressions. They flatter Felix profusely (24:2–4). The charges against Paul are couched as political sedition: “He is an agitator among all the Judeans throughout the world and a ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes” (24:5). Luke’s use of stasis (literally, “moving a rebellion,” but translated by the NRSV as “he is an agitator”) echoes accusations about Jesus before Pilate. Here, the Judeans ironically position themselves as seeking the Roman peace and not wanting Paul to stir up rebellion among Judeans. But they add a telling intra-ethnic charge, too: “He even tried to profane the temple” (24:6), hearkening back to the false charge of bringing Trophimus the Ephesian into the temple (21:29). The accusation imagines a world in which the prosperity of the temple according to Israelite custom and the maintenance of the Roman order are somehow closely related. The charge appears as a veiled attempt by these Israelite leaders to maintain their power in the temple among their Israelite kinfolk. Paul describes his response as “cheerful” (24:10), a marked contrast to the presentation of the Israelite leaders. He denies the charge of stasis with the crowd, in the synagogues, or in the city (24:12). Leveraging his Israelite identity before this non-Israelite judge, he again explains his arrest as related to “the resurrection of the dead” (24:21), a decidedly intra-Israelite issue. Particularly important, though, for a sense of Paul’s relationship to his Israelite ethnic heritage are the way he describes (1) his loyalty to Jesus and (2) the way Jesus’s resurrection ought to be the very thing that persuades the Israelites about God’s covenantal faithfulness. “This I admit to you, that according to the Way, which they call a sect, I worship the God of our ancestors, believing everything laid down according to the law or written in the prophets. I have a hope in God—a hope that they themselves also accept—that there will be a resurrection of both the righteous and the unrighteous” (24:14–15). The text is amazing for its assertion that covenantal concerns of ethnic Israel are attended to “according to the Way” (24:14). Paul sees no immediate tension between Israelite practices and loyalty to Jesus. In fact, his argument about resurrection is an attempt to create ethnic solidarity around a core Israelite belief (Sadducees excepted). The force of 24:15 is that, because Israelites accept the resurrection, there should be no concern about loyalty to the resurrected one. From here forward, in Acts, the thrust of Paul’s argumentation before Israelites will be simply that (1) he remains a faithful Israelite and (2) the resurrection has happened to Jesus. 24:22–27, in short span, describes the shockingly long, two-year imprisonment of Paul in Caesarea. All we know about that time is that (1) Felix provided Paul some liberty and access to friends (24:23), (2) Felix (surprisingly!) was married to an Israelite woman (24:25), and (3) Felix held Paul for a long time, hoping that his engagement with Paul would result in Paul paying him a bribe (24:26). Felix and his wife, Drusilla, provide Paul a highly unlikely ethnically mixed audience. Yet in an ironic way the fact that Paul could present the story of Jesus, through the lens of “justice, self-control, and the coming judgment” (24:25), shows the fact that Paul could operate well in interethnic contexts. (25:1–12) Paul before Festus Though Paul had been imprisoned for at least two years between his initial trial with Felix and Festus’s elevation to the governorship, the “chief priests and leaders of the Israelites” almost immediately gave Festus “a report about Paul” (25:2) upon his arrival in Jerusalem. Their request to transfer Paul to Jerusalem was masking, Luke reports, a plan to ambush and kill Paul (25:3). Violence outside the Jesus-group remains a pervasive theme, highlighting just how radical Luke’s insistence on enemy love has been throughout Luke-Acts.

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Israelite leaders accompanied Festus to Caesarea, and again brought Paul to trial. Though Luke is vague about the charges against Paul (“many serious charges . . . which they could not prove,” 25:7), Paul’s defense indicates the charges still sat at the intersection of Roman imperial claims and Israel’s ethnic claims: “I have in no way committed an offence against the law of the Judeans, or against the temple, or against the emperor” (25:8). Festus—currying favor with his subjects—asked if Paul wished to go to Jerusalem for trial, perhaps indicating that he understood the charges to be more pertinent to intra-Judean matters than to serious challenges to the empire. Paul, though, again leveraged his Roman identity to request extradition to “the emperor’s tribunal” (25:10). This route to Rome is an ironic and risky fulfillment of Jesus’s revelation that Paul must bear witness in Rome (23:11). Festus agrees and the die is cast: “You have appealed to the emperor; to the emperor you will go” (23:12). (25:13–26:32) Agrippa and Bernice Do Not Judge Paul to be Outside of Israelite Practice Festus is uncertain that the emperor’s time should be taken by Paul’s case. He is eager to get the help of Agrippa and Bernice—presumably for Agrippa’s facility with intra-Judean matters. Festus’s confusion has to do with the fact that Paul’s accusers “did not charge him with any of the crimes that I was expecting. Instead they had certain points of disagreement with him about their own religion and about a certain Jesus, who had died, but whom Paul asserted to be alive” (25:18–19). Festus’s attempt to send Paul to Jerusalem was his first effort to arrange a more Judean-savvy venue, and his engagement with Agrippa is his second attempt on this score. Festus himself was stuck, not having anything “definite to write to our sovereign about him” (25:26). Festus’s hope is that Agrippa can help make intelligible the charges against Paul so that Festus “may have something to write—for it seems . . . unreasonable to send a prisoner without indicating charges against him” (25:26–27). Agrippa, in an ethnically mixed setting, gives Paul broad freedom to speak. Paul claims to be eager to address Agrippa, because he is “especially familiar with all the customs and controversies of the Israelites” (26:3). Paul still locates the dispute about Jesus inside the Israelite ethnic group. Were there more space, this would be the time to begin to discuss whether Luke thinks the Jesusmovement poses a risk to Rome. In some ways, the answer to that is clearly yes—but not through insurrection. The risk to Rome is the risk of the reconfiguration of the Roman order within Jesus-groups in ways that destabilized traditional hierarchies and hegemonies. For Paul’s part, though, the intensity of the dispute remains intra-Israelite. He spends very little time defending himself against charges of treason—but he exerts great care to articulate the way the resurrection of Jesus and the formation of the trans-ethnic people of God is a legitimate expression of Israelite covenantal identity. Paul’s speech to Agrippa foregrounds his Israelite ethnicity and practice. He names his Pharisaic identity again, and again situates the intra-Israelite dispute in which he finds himself as a dispute about the resurrection of the dead (26:8). Paul then recounts once more his history of persecution (26:9–11) before telling, for the third and final time, the story of his encounter with Jesus (26:12–18). Perhaps in an effort to highlight Jesus’s Israelite identity, Paul here notes that Jesus’s address was in Aramaic (26:14). The repeated core of the account is unchanged: Jesus self-identifies with the Jesus-following ingroup (26:14– 15). Here, though, Paul gives a longer account of Jesus’s commission. In particular, Jesus has sent Paul to testify both to what he has already seen and to what Jesus will yet show him (26:16).

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He promises Paul that he will rescue him from both Israelites and non-Israelites, and that he is sending Paul now to the non-Israelites to turn them from “darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me” (26:18). The activation of Satan, especially in a context in which the destiny of the non-Israelites is forgiveness of sins and a place among God’s people is telling. In both Luke and Acts we have seen that Satan’s role is to isolate, create self-sufficiency, and to draw people out of the Jesus-group (Luke 22:3, 31; Acts 5:3). Here, Jesus exhorts Paul to break the rule of Satan so even non-Israelites can be joined to God’s people. Again, the concern of Jesus’s direct speech—like that of the Spirit—is to send Israelites to non-Israelites, for the sake of their flourishing. Paul’s narration of the Israelites’ accusation is that he has been arrested because he preached “also to the non-Israelites that they should repent and turn to God and do deeds consistent with repentance” (26:20). This all, for Paul, is precisely what the prophets and Moses said—an affirmation also of Jesus’s Christological interpretation of the OT in Luke 24. The concern of the Israelite Scriptures is that the anointed one would suffer, rise from the dead, and “proclaim light both to our people and to the non-Israelites” (26:23). For Paul, the incorporation of non-Israelites as non-Israelites—alongside the people of Israel—is the telos of God’s covenantal concern and mission through Israel. We must not forget here that Paul is a Spirit-empowered exemplar. Only those marked by the Spirit are able to keep up with God’s expansive trans-ethnic intention in Jesus. Though Paul was addressing Agrippa, Festus interjected a charge of “madness” (mania, 26:24). Paul’s ongoing concern even for his enemies is exemplified in his exhortation to—and prayer for—Agrippa that he might become a follower of Jesus (26:27–29). He wishes only good for the one who has power over him. It is a fascinating conclusion to this scene when an Israelite judge and his spouse exonerate Paul: “This man is doing nothing to deserve death or imprisonment” (26:31). This indicates that Luke sees Paul not as a transgressor but as an authentic inheritor of the Israelite tradition. Agrippa laments to Festus, “This man could have been set free if he had not appealed to the emperor” (26:32). (27:1–28:15) The Sea Journey to Rome Provides Opportunity for Enemy Love and Radical Generosity 27:1–20 describes, in compressed scope, early stages of Paul’s sea voyage toward Rome. Though interesting for historic and geographical purposes, it offers little in terms of identity-related material. By 27:20, hearers know that the stormy weather in which the ship finds itself puts the passengers in danger of death: “All hope of our being saved was at last abandoned.” Luke, implicated in the story by virtue of the “we” convention used from ch. 16 onward, portrays Paul—though a prisoner—as having agency and, indeed, leadership on the ship. His voice is heeded in 27:21–26. Paul relates a vision that has reassured him that (1) he will stand before the emperor and (2) God “has granted safety to all” sailing with Paul (27:24). The ship will need to run aground, but God’s concern for Paul still encompasses Paul’s captors. This is an example of God’s kindness to the “ungrateful and the wicked” (Luke 6:35). Paul participates in God’s concern for his captors. When there is a hint that sailors might begin to save themselves—thus providing Paul opportunity to escape, he remarkably entreats his captors to stay on board for their own good. Paul tells the centurion, “Unless these men stay in

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the ship, you yourselves cannot be saved” (27:31). The soldiers, remarkably, listen to Paul and set the ship adrift, at the mercy of the sea and Paul’s God (27:32). 27:33–38 is one of the more poignant examples of enemy love in Acts. Paul, in mortal danger along with his shipmate captors, seeks their good by inviting them into what looks to be a eucharistic practice. Paul expresses outgroup concern, noting that his captors have not eaten for a fortnight (27:33). He urges them to eat, and notes—using an Israelite formula—that “none of you will lose a hair from your heads” (27:34). Aboard the stormy ship, Paul suddenly appears to be presiding over something of a liturgical meal. He takes three actions: (1) he took bread, (2) he gave thanks to God in the presence of all, and (3) he broke it and began to eat (27:35).These actions correspond directly to the actions of Jesus in Luke 22:19 and 24:30. Took, blessed, broke—this liturgical progression unites the practice of Paul with the practice of Jesus. In 27:35, only Paul himself eats. That is, the text does not have Paul serve the bread to the sailors. However, it is Paul’s exhortation to eat and his initiation of the liturgical feast that left his captors “encouraged” so that they “took food for themselves” (27:37). Paul’s concern for the good of his enemies is beautiful. If, in Luke and throughout Acts, the exemplary identity of members of the Jesus-group is manifest through enemy love and radical generosity, this action of Paul for the good of his captors stands as a moving example of identity within the Jesus-group. Paul’s vision that the ship must run aground comes to fruition in 27:41. Paul’s allocentric concern for his captors and all the sailors is immediately contrasted with the soldiers’ plan to “kill the prisoners, so that none might swim away and escape” (27:42). Concern for the other operates differently within the Jesus-group as compared to proximate outgroups. Luke presents yet another centurion, who, though a military oppressor of Israel, intervenes with care for Paul. For Luke, all humans can participate in God’s purposes—even unlikely characters like centurions (cf. Luke 7:1–10; 24:47; Acts 10:1–48; 23:17–18). The centurion restrains the violent impulse of the soldiers, finding himself in league with the peace-doing ways of the Jesus-group. Thus, all on board the ship “were brought safely to land” (27:44). The island upon which the seafarers arrived was Malta, where they were received warmly by the native inhabitants (28:2), who started a fire to warm the castaways. Paul himself experienced a miraculous healing from a snakebite (28:3–6), before exercising kindness to Publius’s father by healing him along with “the rest of the people on the islands who had diseases” (28:8–10). Paul’s allocentric concern continues, leveraging his power, status, and identity (even in the context of being thought a god [!], 28:6) for the flourishing of others. This is an apt end to Paul’s journey, which has seen Paul seek the good of the other at every single turn, even when that allocentric concern put him at great risk. (28:16–30) The Endurance of Paul’s Israelite Identity and Exemplary Jesus-Following Identity in Rome Though I do not see this as a major Lukan point since both Israelites and non-Israelites outside the Jesus-group regularly respond violently to the other, there is a marked contrast in the gentleness with which Paul is treated by his Roman captors near the end of Acts (28:16). Though Paul’s concern in going to Rome was, ostensibly, to testify before Caesar, he begins once more in an Israelite gathering (28:17). Despite violent opposition from many Israelites throughout his journeys, Paul cannot shake his love for his people. His persistent return to Israelite contexts is an example of his allocentric identity, enemy love, and self-disregard. His

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address to the Israelites in Rome—even after all that has transpired—positions Paul inside the ethnic ingroup: “Brothers, though I had done nothing against our people or the customs of our ancestors” (28:17). He self-categorizes with the Israelite ingroup to the very end. His speech explains that, were it up to the Romans, he would have been released (28:18). But the Israelites objected—leading to Paul’s appeal to the emperor, even though he (Paul) “had no charge to bring against my nation” (ethnos, 28:19). Paul bears no malice against his ethnic group, though some from within that group have persistently sought his death. Paul endeavors to speak again to Israelites about “the hope of Israel” (28:20), which we learned in Acts 26:6–8 was Paul’s circumlocution for the resurrection of the dead. Word of the Jesusgroup’s identity has reached Israelites in Rome, and not with good reputation. Referring to the group as a sect (which is not an inherently negative categorization), they note that “everywhere it is spoken against” (28:22). The ending to Acts is not tidy. Paul preaches about the kingdom of God, “trying to convince them about Jesus from the law of Moses and the prophets” (28:23). The results were mixed, with some believing and some not. Paul’s closing words are sharp. He quotes Isa 6:9–10 and proclaims again that “this salvation of God has been sent to the non-Israelites; they will listen” (28:28). Two matters call for attention here. First, the use of Isa 6:9–10 echoes Jesus’s deployment of that text in Luke 8:10. There, the text is used as a warning to Jesus’s hearers, presumably functioning in the same way that it does in Isaiah—as an ironic injunction to hear. What must be strongly stated is that the deployment of Isa 6:9–10 is not a turn away from Israelites at the end of Acts. In Isaiah, the text precedes long, passionate outreach to God’s covenantal people. In Luke, the text precedes Jesus’s persistent ministry toward both great and small in Israel. In Acts, too, then, we must assert that the text functions as an ironic warning to listen. It certainly raises the stakes for hearers, but—given its other narrative co-texts in Isaiah and Luke—it cannot be taken as proscribing Israelite participation in the Jesus-group. The same is true for Paul’s strong language in 28:28. Twice before he has announced his turn from Israel to non-Israelites (13:46; 18:6). In each case, though, those were local moves. And in the latter case, the first thing that happens after the emphatic turn to non-Israelites is the conversion of a high-identifying Israelite synagogue leader (18:8)! We must surely understand that, while Paul is testifying to God’s concern for non-Israelites, he is not enacting any sort of rejection of Israel. His own Israelite identity and practice, at a subgroup level, mitigates any such suggestion. Acts closes without narrative resolution. Paul remains on house arrest, though the last two years of his life are barely narrated. We only know four things about Paul which, though briefly described, highlight the fact that Paul’s Spirit-empowered allocentric identity was enacted all the way to the end. (1) Paul “lived . . . at his own expense” (28:30). (2) Paul “welcomed all who came to him” (28:30). (3) “Paul proclaimed the “kingdom of God” (28:31). (4) Paul taught “about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance” (28:31). Paul’s radical generosity is on display as he refuses the financial assistance of others. Paul’s neighborly love is on display as he welcomed all who came to him (and how fascinating it would be to have a log of his visitors!). Paul’s emphasis continues to be the reign of God for all human beings, and the mention of the reign of God here forms a powerful inclusio with Acts 1:3. The upshot of Luke’s structural move is that we can take the entire text of Acts—with its imagination about a new kind of human community that affirms, yet chastens and transcends, ethnic identity by means of cultivating a people who practice enemy love and radical generosity—is itself an 254

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impressionistic description of what, precisely, Luke understands the reign of God to look like in its social expression. Finally, Paul’s focus remains on the lordship of Jesus Christ, the resurrected one. His teaching—even though it has cost him so dearly—remains bold and unhindered, a final example of his willingness always to seek the good of the other and never to leverage his power, identity, or status for selfish exploitation. All of this, in Acts, is the result of the transformational work of the Spirit, who is the key figure in creating God’s one new humanity—a social group that must stubbornly protect ethnic particularity at a subgroup level while always resisting ethnic hegemony.

References Bauckham, Richard. “The Restoration of Israel in Luke-Acts.” Pages 435–87 in Restoration: Old Testament, Jewish, and Christian Perspectives. Edited by James M. Scott. Leiden: Brill, 2001. Bauckham, Richard. Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels and Eyewitness Testimony. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006. Bettencourt, B. Ann, Nancy Dorr, Kelly Charlton, and Deborah L. Hume. “Status Differences and Ingroup Bias: A Meta-Analytic Examination of the Effects of Status Stability, Status Legitimacy, and Group Permeability.” Psychological Bulletin 127 (2001): 520–42. Brewer, M. B. “The Psychology of Prejudice: Ingroup Love or Outgroup Hate?” Journal of Social Issues 55 (1999): 429–44. Brown, Rupert. “Agenda 2000—Social Identity Theory: Past Achievements, Current Problems, and Future Challenges.” EJSP 30 (2000): 745–78. Cairns, Ed. "Intergroup Conflict in Northern Ireland." Pages 277–97 in Social Identity and Intergroup Relations. Edited by Henri Tajfel Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982. Dovidio, J. F., Samuel L. Gaertner, and Ana Validzic. “Intergroup Bias: Status, Differentiation, and a Common Ingroup Identity.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 75 (1998): 109–20. Hutchison, John, and Anthony D. Smith, eds. Ethnicity. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996. Jetten, Jolanda, Russell Spears, and Antony S. R. Manstead. “Similarity as a Source of Differentiation: The Role of Group Identification.” EJSP 31 (2001): 621–40. Kuecker, Aaron J. The Spirit and the “Other”: Social Identity, Ethnicity, and Intergroup Reconciliation in Luke-Acts. LNTS. London: T & T Clark, 2011. Longenecker, Bruce. Rhetoric at the Boundaries: The Art and Theology of New Testament Chain Link Transitions. Waco: Baylor University Press, 2005. Marques, Jose M, Vincent Y. Yzerbyt, and Jacques-Philippe Leyens. “The ‘Black Sheep Effect’: Extremity of judgments towards ingroup members as a function of group identification.” EJSP 40 (1998): 315–35. Rahmani, L. Y. A Catalogue of Jewish Ossuaries. Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority and the Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1994. Rothgerber, Hank. “External Intergroup Threat as an Antecedent to Perceptions of Ingroup and Outgroup Homogeneity.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 73 (1997): 1206–12. Rowe, C. Kavin. “Luke–Acts and the Imperial Cult: A Way through the Conundrum?” JSNT 27 (2005): 279–300. Wenzel, Michael. “A Social Categorization Approach to Distributive Justice: Social Identity as the Link between Relevance of Inputs and Need for Justice.” British Journal of Social Psychology 40 (2001): 315–35. Wenzel, Michael, Amelie Mummendey, Ulrike Weber, and Sven Waldzus. “The Ingroup as Pars Pro Toto: Projection from the Ingroup Onto the Inclusive Category as a Precursor to Social Discrimination.” Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin 29 (2003): 461–73. Witherington, III, Ben. The Acts of the Apostles: A Socio Rhetorical Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998. 255



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Romans Christopher Zoccali

Introduction Authorship Among contemporary scholars, the letter to the Romans stands alongside 1 and 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, and Philemon as undisputedly authored by Paul himself. Notwithstanding, some scholars have questioned the letter’s full integrity. Most typically, these scholars suggest some or all of ch. 16 represents a later addition (perhaps even written by Paul for another occasion). In my view and that of many other scholars, ch. 16 in its entirety represents part of the original letter. According to 16:22, Tertius, a figure not mentioned elsewhere in Paul’s letters or the New Testament as a whole, recorded the letter, serving as Paul’s scribe.

Date and Provenance In 15:23–29 Paul indicates that he has completed his missionary work in the eastward regions of the Empire, and that he is preparing to deliver his collection taken from the communities he has founded in Macedonia and Achaia to the Christ community in Jerusalem. Further, 16:1 indicates that Phoebe, referred to as a deacon of the ekklēsia in Corinth’s port of Cenchreae, delivered the letter from Paul to the Romans. In 16:23 Paul sends greetings from Gaius, who, according to 1 Cor 1:14, was a leader in the Corinthian Christ community; Paul explains that Gaius served as his host along with at least some members of the ekklēsia in the place from where he is writing. This data suggests that the letter was written during Paul’s stay in Corinth, perhaps during his final winter with them (1 Cor 16:6). Correlating this with the data in Acts, it can be confidently concluded that the letter was written in the mid- to late 50s, and most commentators propose a more precise date of 56–57 CE.

Occasion and Purpose Romans is distinct from the other letters of Paul written to communities, as he was not the community’s founder. Paul is preparing for the next stage of his mission, which is to take the

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gospel to Spain. The evidence in the letter (Rom 15:14–33) suggests that Paul desires the Roman Christ community to support this westward mission. For the Roman Christ community to serve as a viable base of missionary operation it is imperative that they are unified under Paul’s gospel. Since Paul did not found this community, he must present himself to the community as an authoritative apostle to the nations and carefully articulate the gospel message he proclaims, which, it seems, has already been misrepresented by some (cf. Rom 3:8). Thus, Paul must establish what, exactly, his gospel entails. Furthermore, as especially indicated in Rom 11 and 14, Paul is aware of existing tensions between the two primary subgroups within the community, which, as indicated in Rom 16, consisted of a loose association of ekklēsiai in the city. The groups in question, while very likely containing some persons who maintained a degree of association with both, consisted predominately of (1) Jews and most probably those gentiles who possessed some level of attachment to the synagogue; and (2) non-Jews; an ethnic conglomerate of persons, generally bound by Hellenistic culture, who did not (or no longer) possess(ed) any such connection with the greater Jewish community outside of their affiliation with the Christ-movement. Though Paul still views the Roman Christ community as a mature and grounded one—enough so to serve as a prospective missionary headquarters for this new phase of his apostolic mission (Rom 15:14), a disjuncture as this, if left unchecked, would almost certainly destabilize the community in time, and therefore ultimately fail to provide him with what is needed for his westward evangelization efforts. But Paul’s concern is surely more than a utilitarian one. The spiritual well-being of the Christ allegiants in Rome is clearly understood by him as falling under his apostolic responsibility (Rom 1:8–15), and nothing short of a fully unified community is consistent with the holy calling of God’s people (Rom 1:7). Considering all the above, he seeks in the letter to increase the saliency of the community members’ common identity in Christ, unifying them around the gospel as God’s multiethnic covenant people—a renewed humanity— and thus co-heirs of the world with the Lord Jesus Christ.

Literary Structure Romans is generally structured as a standard Greco-Roman letter of the period. The letter’s central content has three main sections and fifteen subparts that will serve as the headings for the commentary that follows.

Social Identity Approach This commentary will take an integrative approach to the question of identity in Romans, utilizing social-scientific, sociohistorical, and theological methods. Tajfel and Turner’s social identity and self-categorization theories are helpful in illuminating the way in which Paul negotiates the primacy of the community’s “in Christ” identity while observing the continuing import of the primary subgroup affiliations of Jews and gentiles. Cinnirella’s theory of temporal identity sheds additional light on how Paul’s appeals to the community’s past (including its grounding in

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Israel’s sacred history), present circumstances, and predictive future glory collectively function to reinforce the community’s sense of solidarity. Attention to the first-century Mediterranean social values of honor and shame, along with the agonistic bent of the culture at large, are likewise useful in discerning the intent of much of Paul’s identity-shaping rhetoric. Namely, he can be understood as redefining the basis for obtaining honor among community members and consequently seeking to inhibit intra-communal competition—an objective clearly vital to the unity amid diversity he wishes for them. Finally, I have located three interrelated and progressive aspects to Paul’s theology that are evidenced throughout the letter and further serve to clarify his view of Christ community identity. The first concerns the seminal basis of covenant identity, in which there exists a fundamental continuity through history to what establishes and maintains covenant relationship with God. The second concerns the twin phenomena of covenant and creation renewal as the consequence of God’s act in Christ. The third is a basic salvation-historical pattern involving Israel’s eschatological restoration followed by the ingathering of the other nations qua nations to participate in the worship of the God of Israel. These three elements taken together suggest the following: (1) however transformed and undertaken differently by Jews and gentiles, respectively, a Torahshaped identity is still intrinsic to all God’s people in the age of Christ; (2) the universalism of the gospel necessarily includes, and is thus not antithetical to, the continuation of Jewish identity alongside non-Jewish identity (normatively defined; see below); and (3) respect for difference is essential to the unity of God’s people and is therefore central to Paul’s apostolic mission.

Section I: The Place of Jews and Gentiles in Paul’s Gospel Paul, the Apostle to the Nations: Introduction to the Roman Christ Community (1:1–15) (1:1–7) Though following typical Greco-Roman epistolary conventions, in the letter’s opening in 1:1–7 Paul initiates several rhetorical moves that are crucial to his overarching purpose in writing to the Roman Christ community. In v. 1 he introduces himself to the community with three parallel self-identifications: (1) “a slave of Christ Jesus” (cf. Gal 1:10; Phil 1:1); (2) “a called apostle” (cf. Gal 1:1, 15–16; Rom 1:7; 8:28–30; 9:7, 24–26); and (3) one who has “been set apart for the gospel of God.” By positing his own identity in such terms, Paul seeks to ground his proper authority over the community as a divinely chosen agent of the God of Israel, and this God’s Christ (cf. Isa 6:8; Ezek 2:1–3; Jer 1:4–7). As suggested by Philip F. Esler, Paul’s leadership would need to be established to successfully unify the community toward a common goal. Through various discursive measures (as the content of the letter will make clear) he will exert such leadership as an “entrepreneur of identity” (Esler, 38). That is, he will work to foster from among the membership of distinct subgroups within the greater Christ community in Rome a thorough perception that each of them also belongs to a common social group, and therefore possess a superordinate social identity.

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A basic definition of “identity” may include the following elements: (1) Identity indicates who/what individuals and groups believe they are, and also what they do. (2) Identity is affected by human agency as well as social structures, and may, then, involve a number of both internal and external factors. (3) Persons and groups invariably possess multiple, nested identities. (4) Identity can be a dynamic phenomenon, subject to negotiation (and influenced by, for example, various discursive strategies), though it may also contain both malleable/open (i.e., constructed) and more stable/closed (i.e., essential/primordial) aspects. Beyond these basic elements of the phenomenon of identity, at several points the following will further consider insights drawn from contemporary social-psychological theory, including social identity and self-categorization theories (SIT and SCT, respectively). Simply stated, SIT is a theory that seeks to predict intergroup behavior vis-à-vis social identity. SCT is a related theory that concerns the matter of how individuals understand themselves and others in relation to groups to which they respectively belong. “Social identity” is defined as “that part of an individual’s self-concept which derives from his [sic] knowledge of his [sic] membership of a social group (or groups) together with the value and emotional significance attached to that membership” (Tajfel, 63). The primacy of social groups is an integral component of Paul’s theologizing throughout the letter to the Romans, as expectedly given the general collectivist culture of the ancient Mediterranean world. An aspect of SIT/SCT that is integral to my understanding of Romans, and which especially relates to the third element defining identity above, concerns the role of superordinate social identities. A superordinate social identity is a higher aggregate identity category to which persons may belong in addition to possessing other group affiliations. Such larger social identifications function in creating a common ingroup social identity, which may, in turn, reduce intergroup bias, and thus promote greater harmony and a basis for unified action among subordinate groups. Contemporary social-scientific research has evidenced the success of creating a common ingroup social identity, particularly when a superordinate identity is made salient while simultaneously allowing (in some fashion) for group members’ continued identification with and commitment to their respective subordinate group affiliations. More specifically, much of what Paul will assert in the letter will concern the relationship between Jews and gentiles, as discrete ethnic and thereby social categories. The promotion among these subgroups of their superordinate social identity vis-à-vis his gospel of Jesus Christ will provide him with a viable base of operation for his planned missionary efforts westward into Spain (cf. Rom 15:20–29). Paul’s next rhetorical move in vv. 2–4 is to locate the “gospel” or “good news” (euangelion) of what God has done in Christ as the climax of Israel’s salvation history recorded in the Hebrew Scriptures. By explicating central convictions of the gospel message shared by his auditors, he can assure them that he exemplifies the very identity he hopes to intensify and prioritize among them. Paul’s gospel is not a detached “apocalyptic” event that supplants or is otherwise separate from Israel’s scriptural traditions. It is, rather, the apocalyptic fulfillment of those traditions (cf. Rom 16:25–26). The very language of “the gospel” recalls the prophecies of Second Isaiah. In Isa 40:9 the “good news” is announced that God will return to his people, establish his reign, and restore Israel’s fortunes following God’s judgment upon them of exile. In ch. 10 of the letter Paul will cite Isa 52:7, which similarly portrays the proclamation of the good news of God’s reign and Israel’s consequent salvation that will be witnessed by “all the nations/all the ends of the earth.” 260

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Verses 3–4 contain two parallel messianic proclamations: Jesus is of the “seed of David” and is the “son of God,” as established by his resurrection (cf. Rom 9:5). Jesus is thus understood as God’s Davidic messianic agent integral to Israel’s promised eschatological restoration on the other side of exile (cf., e.g., Pss. Sol. 17–18; 1 En. 37–71; 2 Bar. 26:1–30:5; 36: 4Q252 5.1–6), and his own resurrection inaugurates the general resurrection of the dead when God’s redemptive purposes for both Israel and the entire creation are accomplished (cf. Rom 8:18–23; 1 Cor 15:20– 28, 50–58). Paul’s reference to the “gospel” in this section also resonates with the term’s usage by the Roman Empire, which celebrated the birth of Augustus Caesar as good news for the whole world. For Paul and the Roman Christ community, it is Jesus of Nazareth—rather than the Roman Caesars—who is Lord over all. As signifying, then, the reestablishment of God’s incontestably sovereign rule through Jesus Christ, this immediate exposition of the gospel in the letter’s opening sets forward the primacy of Paul and the community’s identity as members of God’s (re-)new(-ed) covenant and creation people over the Roman identity, and indeed all other social identities, also possessed by them. In vv. 5–7 Paul acknowledges God’s gracious apostolic calling. In as much as God’s grace is shown to him and his fellow missionaries as servants of the Lord, it is also mediated through their apostolic mission. This mission has as its primary purpose the eliciting of the “obedient allegiance” (upakoēn pisteōs; trans. mine) among the nations to Israel’s God and Christ, including his Roman auditors, who are likewise “called to belong to Jesus Christ” (cf. Rom 10:14–17; 15:14–19; 16:26). Though primarily directed toward non-Jews, it should not be inferred here that Paul’s missionary work did not also encompass a concern to bring the gospel message to Jews living among the gentiles throughout the diaspora; a concern he would have taken for granted (cf. Rom 1:16–17; 1 Cor 9:19–23). Both subgroups are in view as those to whom he will seek to exert his apostolic authority; such leadership is not limited to non-Jews even if eliciting their allegiance to Christ represents his chief responsibility (cf. Rom 1:14–15). In v. 7 Paul addresses the Roman Christ allegiants as those “called to be holy ones” (trans. mine), indicating that they also have been set apart by God for a special purpose. The title, “holy ones” (hagiois), is a common one utilized by him as a superordinate identity descriptor for the multiethnic Christ community (Rom 15:25, 31; 16:15; cf. 1 Cor 1:2; 2 Cor 1:1; 1 Thess 3:13; Phil 1:7; 1 Cor 16:1). To belong to Christ, whether one is Jewish or gentile, is to be a “holy one,” that is, a member of God’s covenant people who will receive the kingdom of God, in distinction from those outside of the community (cf. Rom 16:17–20; Phil 1:27–28; 3:20–21; 1 Cor 6:9–11; 15:20–58; Gal 5:16–25; 1 Thess 4:13–5:11; Dan 7:13–27; Exod 19:5–6; Lev 19:2; Deut 14:2). (1:8–15) Though an authoritative apostle to the nations, Paul had yet to visit the community in Rome. The reason for this discrepant state of affairs is not indifference, but rather hindrance. Paul’s thanksgiving (v. 8) indicates the highly honorable reputation had by the Roman community among the network of local Christ communities throughout the greater Greco-Roman world. In this way he reminds these Christ allegiants of their solidarity with the Christ-movement at large, and especially with the other communities throughout the diaspora founded by Paul himself (cf. Rom 16:3, 16). He presses this solidarity by suggesting a supreme concern for the Roman community demonstrable in his constant prayers to God on their behalf, along with his earnest desire to be present with them. 261

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Paul’s anticipated visit will be with the intention of sharing a “spiritual gift” to strengthen the community. But he is also careful to express the mutuality of their relationship—a theme to which he will return in their dealings with one another and even with that of Israel and the nations in toto (cf. Rom 11:11–12:13; 14:1–15:13). The mutuality and solidarity of Paul and the Roman community—and, indeed, the common identity they share among one another—is communicated in his address of his auditors as “brothers and sisters” in v. 13. He also says here that his intentions to come to Rome involved “reaping some harvest among [them],” as he had in the regions eastward where he had brought the gospel message. In affirming his obligation “both to Greeks and Barbarians, both to wise and foolish,” he means here the whole of the non-Jewish world (which would thereby include Jews living among them) as falling within the scope of his apostolic mission, and thus including those in Rome (vv. 14–15).

The Central Claim of Paul’s Gospel: To the Jew First and Also the Gentile (1:16–17) Now that Paul has introduced himself to the community in the hopes of establishing his apostolic leadership over them, in 1:16–17 he advances the central claim of his gospel. His adamant assertion that he “is not ashamed of the gospel,” but that “it is the power of God for salvation to everyone faithful/allegiant (pisteuonti), to the Jew first and also the gentile (Hellēn)” (trans. mine; cf. 1 Cor 1:22–24), points to the true basis for claiming honor among the community, not in their ethnic identity (or any other subordinate social affiliation), but rather in their shared identification with God’s act in Christ (cf. Rom 5:1–5). Though social values were not monolithic in the ancient Mediterranean world, “honor” (and the avoidance of “shame”) was undoubtedly one of the central concerns across the spectrum of ancient Mediterranean people. Honor was typically conceived of as a limited good, in which one’s acquisition of honor was ipso facto at another’s expense. Thus, given the highly agonistic inclination of the general culture, the natural desire for honor among the members of the Roman Christ community would have to be cautiously negotiated by Paul. In a scenario in which their respective subgroup identities rose in salience over their “in Christ” identity, the pursuit of honor, and consequential competition between subgroups over its acquisition, could severely inhibit the sort of unity that he hopes to create among them. As such, he explicitly includes here the two primary subgroups, Jews and gentiles, as participants in the salvation wrought by God through Jesus Christ. In doing so he is careful to preserve his auditors’ subgroup affiliations, while emphasizing their superordinate identity as Christ allegiants. In contemporary social-scientific terms, Paul recategorizes these subgroup affiliates of Jews and gentiles, respectively, into the larger group of Christ allegiants/the faithful (i.e., “us”), in distinction from those outside the Christ community (i.e., “them”) who will not participate in God’s salvation, do not possess this claim to honor, and who instead will be shamed in the final judgment (cf. Rom 10:11–13). Further, his reference to “the Jew first and also the gentile” signals to his auditors a central conviction regarding God’s promise of salvation in the Hebrew Scriptures that he believes has now been inaugurated; a conviction that will come to explicit expression at the conclusion to

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the main discourse of the letter in 15:7–13, and which is commonly referred to in contemporary scholarship as the “eschatological pilgrimage” tradition. In Paul’s worldview, God’s gracious and merciful intervention to rescue Israel would then result in the ingathering of the other nations to join—on equal terms—God’s historic covenant people. The resulting community would constitute the multiethnic family promised to Abraham (Rom 4:11–12, 16–17), the children of God (Rom 8:14–19) (cf., for example, Isa 2:2–5; 11:1–10; 19:18–25; 25:6–10; 42:1–9; 45:22–23; 49:6; 51:4–6; 56:6–8; 66:18–21; Jer 3:17; 16:19–21; Amos 9:11–12 LXX; Mic 4:1–3). He states next that the gospel of Jesus Christ represents the eschatological manifestation of God’s own righteousness, ultimately realized in the fulfillment of the promises to redeem and make righteous Israel along with the entire created order (cf. esp. Isa 45:22–26 LXX). As it is the revelation of God’s righteousness that makes human beings righteous (cf. Rom 3:26), the gospel is “from (God’s) faithfulness to (human) faithfulness” (trans. mine). Paul follows with a modified citation of Hab 2:4. The context of the Habakkuk verse is the hoped-for and promised deliverance of Israel by God at an appointed time, a context of which Paul was almost certainly well aware. The citation follows neither exactly the MT nor the LXX. In the MT, God, the “righteous one,” or the prophet’s vision of deliverance can all potentially represent the referent of this faithfulness. The LXX understands the referent as God and reads, “the righteous one shall live by my faithfulness.” It is likely that Paul’s ambiguity regarding whose faithfulness is in view is because pistis (faith/faithfulness) functions as a synecdoche for the gospel of Jesus Christ—that is, the final manifestation of God’s faithfulness (i.e., righteousness), which calls for and enables human faithfulness/allegiance (i.e., righteousness), in fulfillment of Habakkuk’s prophecy. All possible readings of the Hebrew text are simultaneously fulfilled in Paul’s gospel. The “life” in question is the very life promised in the Hebrew Scriptures as a consequence of obedience to God (cf. Deut 30:15–20; Lev 18:5). In Paul’s eschatologically informed reading of Scripture (cf. Rom 4:23–24; 15:4; 1 Cor 10:10) this means resurrection or eternal life (cf. Rom 5:21; 6:23; 10:5–13).

The Sins of the Nations (1:18–32) In v. 18 Paul introduces a necessary component of God’s righteousness or faithfulness to the promises. As inextricable from salvation, God’s faithfulness to execute retribution against the unrepentant on behalf of their victims has likewise been inaugurated (cf. Rom 2:5–11, 16; 3:5–8; Phil 1:27–29; 3:18–19; Pss 9:8; 50:4–23; 96:13; 98:9; 143:11–12; Isa 11:4–5). The negative counterpart to salvation, God’s wrath, is “revealed from heaven upon all ungodliness and wickedness of those who suppress the truth.” Demonstrating the parity between subgroups is crucial to Paul’s rhetorical goals in the letter. However, he must also recognize the unique characteristics of each of the groups. As Esler explains, drawing these distinctions is necessary because if he were to propose such equality by pointing to identical attributes, the groups might then be urged to compete with one another, which could in turn destroy the “single ingroup identity to be achieved” (Esler, 144). Paul will thus set out to accomplish this objective by first relating the particular ways gentiles and Jews,

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respectively, are under the dominion of sin. In 1:19–32 he explicates the idolatry of the nonJewish world. Verses 19–32 reflect fairly common Jewish stereotyping of the nations, as seen especially in Wisdom of Solomon 13–14. Stereotyping is a function of social categorization, whereby typical characteristics assigned to members of the outgroup serve, in turn, to strengthen one’s perception of ingroup belonging and thus adherence to the normative beliefs, feelings, and praxis of one’s own group in distinction from others (Hogg et al., “Identity,” 254). Paul suggests here that knowledge of the Creator is universally available through the witness of the created order itself. But sin has so degraded human reasoning that the nations have committed themselves to idols instead (cf., e.g., Isa 40:12–31, 44:6–23). In response to their idolatry, God permitted them the freedom to indulge in their perversions. Paul continues his indictment of the nations by focusing first on illicit sexual conduct, and then concluding in vv. 29–32 with a lengthy vice list summarizing the sort of unrighteous activity that stems from idolatry, the failure to recognize the truth of God and what it means to be human according to God’s design. In all, this exposition of the sins of the nations—the wicked and ungodly who reject God’s good purposes in and for the world—serves as the outgroup stereotype from which the Roman Christ community should differentiate themselves (cf. Rom 5:9; 12:9–19; 1 Thess 4:5; 1 Cor 5:1, 9–13; 12:2). That is, only by rejecting the death-dealing, community-destroying praxis of the nations alienated from the God of Israel, and actualizing the life-giving, community-building norms that Paul will later explicate in the letter, can the stability and continued viability of the community be secured.

No Exceptions in Divine Accountability (2:1–16) In the form of a diatribe 2:1–16 functions as a bridge between the explicit condemnation of gentile idolatry in 1:18–32 and the explication of Israel’s sin; their failure to fulfill their divine calling to mediate God’s blessing to the nations (as evidence of their heretofore unredeemed state; see below) in 2:17–3:8. Here, Paul directs his attention to the hypocrite, whether a Jew or gentile. Intellectual assent of God’s coming judgment on such wrongdoing that he has specified in vv. 29–31 is itself insufficient grounds to escape God’s wrath. Rather, in light of the delay in God’s coming judgment it is incumbent upon all people, Jewish or gentile, to repent of their sin, and conform their praxis so that it accords with God’s image in humankind (vv. 1–4). Paul presupposes here a notion that is likewise assumed in his dissertation on the phenomenon of Israel’s partial hardening in chs 9–11. In keeping with texts such as 2 Macc 6:12–16; Wis 12:9–27; 19:4–5; and Gen 15:16, this delay in divine judgment serves not only as a gracious and merciful opportunity to repent, but also as a period during which time people’s sins accumulate until they have reached a severe enough level compelling the exercise of God’s wrath, which will then be seen as wholly just (v. 5) (Wright, Romans, 639, 677–78). Ultimately, God “will repay according to each one’s deeds,” whether the reward of eternal (i.e., resurrection) life for correct action or the penalty of God’s wrath for wrong action (vv. 6–10; cf. Ps 62:12; Prov 24:12). In v. 11 Paul expresses a thoroughly Jewish notion that is

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critical to his goal of unifying the respective subgroups of Jews and gentiles, namely, divine impartiality (cf. Rom 3:22b; 10:12; Deut 10:17; 2 Chron 19:7; Job 34:19; Lev 19:15). He expands on the implications of this notion in vv. 12–15. Paul affirms in this section that both gentiles and Jews are equally accountable to God. Neither ignorance of the Torah (nomos) (as in the case of gentiles who do not possess the Torah by nature/birthright) nor possession of the Torah (as in the case of Jews) excludes one from the final judgment (cf. Rom 14:10; 1 Cor 1:8; 4:5; 2 Cor 5:10; Acts 17:20–21). Only the doers of the Torah will be judged by God through Jesus Christ to be in the right (v. 16). As he will further elaborate in the remainder of the letter, the doers of the Torah (i.e., the “faithful”) are only those who are in Christ, regardless of whether they are a Jew or, as in this case (however paradoxically), a gentile (cf. Rom 2:25–29). Paul clearly alludes in this section to the promises of covenant renewal (cf. Rom 11:27; 1 Cor 11:23–26; 2 Cor 3:3–18; Gal 4:24–28; Phil 3:3; Col 2:11), according to which God, through the agency of the Spirit (cf. Rom 2:25–29; 5:5; 7:6; 8:1–11; Gal 3:2–5; 4:6; 5:5; 1 Cor 2:12–15; 2 Cor 3:6–8; Isa 32:15; 44:3; Ezek 11:19–20; 36:22–32; 39:29; Joel 2:28; Zech 12:10), will write Torah on the hearts of his people, giving them a new capacity for faithfulness (cf. Deut 30:1–6; Isa 59:21; Jer 31:31–40; Ezek 36:22–32; Bar 2:30–35; Jub 1:21–24; CD 3.10–20; 1QS 1.16– 2.25). Integral to the fulfillment of covenant renewal is Paul’s understanding that the fundamental basis of covenant identity is and has always been God’s ḥesed—that is, God’s covenant love and faithfulness toward his people rather than in the first place their obedient response to God (cf. Routledge, 187–88). Though always requiring the appropriate response of faithfulness to God (cf., e.g., Mic 6:8; Hos 6:6–7), God’s ḥesed is primary to the covenant relationship (cf. Rom 3:3–5; 9:11– 16; 11:28–32; Phil 1:6; 2:13). It is inextricable from the notion of God’s own righteousness and is what ultimately secures one’s righteous status among God’s people (cf., e.g., Pss 33:4–5; 36:5–10; 40:4–13; 85:4–13; 89:14–37; 98:1–3; 103; 1 Kgs 8:23; Jer 9:23–24; Hos 10:12; see also the LXX’s translation of ḥesed as dikaiosunē in Gen 24:27; 32:11; Exod 15:13; 34:7). It is, accordingly, the basis for redemption and reconciliation (cf. Rom 5:10–11; 2 Cor 5:18–19; 2 Tim 2:13; Exod 15:13; 34:6–7; Num 14:18–19; Pss 25:7–10; 89; 107; 136; 143; Isa 54:8–10; Jer 31:3; 33:11; Lam 3:22–32; Dan 9:4–19; Hos 2:19–23; Joel 2:12–13; Mic 7:18–20; Jonah 4:2). The term eleos (mercy) is the normal translation in the LXX of ḥesed, and petitions for divine mercy predicated on God’s ḥesed are otherwise ubiquitous. The notion of God’s “mercy” will be especially integral to Paul’s argument in chs 9–11 (cf. esp. Gal 6:14–16). But it should be further observed that the parallel centrality of God’s “grace” (charis), as seen especially in chs 3–6 (see also Rom 11:5–6), is likewise a reflection of Paul’s complete dependence on this seminal attribute of God in interpreting the significance of what God has done in Christ (for a discussion on the close connection of ḥesed with raḥamim [mercy] and ḥen [grace] in the MT, see Routledge, 190–93). Thus, because God’s ḥesed—God’s sovereign grace and mercy as wholly constituent of God’s covenant love and faithfulness is ultimately manifest in the gospel of Jesus Christ, and because covenant identity is fundamentally demarcated on such grounds, gentiles who are now coming to the God of Israel can, along with faithful/Christ-allegiant Jews, participate in the (re-)new(-ed) covenant (and creation) (cf. Rom 11:17–27; 15:7–13).

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The Sins of Israel (2:17–3:8) (2:17–24) Unlike the gentile world that has been given over to idolatry, Israel represents God’s historic covenant people, the bearers of the Torah (cf. Rom 3:2), whom God had called to mediate blessing to the other nations (cf. Gal 3:8; Gen 18:18; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14; Exod 19:5–6; Deut 4:5–8; 10:19; Isa 2:2–4; 11:9–10; 42:1, 6; 49:6; 52:13–53:12; Tob 13:11; 14.6; Sib. Or. 3.195; Wis 18:4; 1 En. 105:1; T. Levi 14:3–4; 1Q28b 4.27). In this light, in vv. 17–20, Paul catalogues standard Jewish claims to honor over the non-Jewish world. That some scholars find his treatment of Jewish sin to be forced, and/or laughably disparate with that of the gentile world, is to precisely miss the point and the full weight of the section. As suggested above, his rhetorical goals in 1:18– 3:20 is not simply to demonstrate a parity of sinfulness between Jews and gentiles, but to do so in unique ways relative to each group. His probing questions in vv. 21–23 presuppose that Israel’s unique calling as God’s chosen agent of blessing means a heightened responsibility to remain faithful to God. Israel’s failure as proportionate to their special status and election privileges is, then, equally severe to the failure of the nations. Therefore, Israel, no less than the nations, is utterly dependent upon God’s eschatological act in Christ. (2:25–29) Verses 25–29 take up the theme of covenant renewal. Paul utilizes the terms “circumcision/uncircumcision” as synonyms for Jewish and gentile identity, respectively. In v. 25 Paul is careful to observe the real value of physical circumcision, which is to say Jewish identity as it was generally and most fundamentally demarcated in the first century (i.e., “normative Jewish identity,” and so referenced below). Yet, he is also clear that normative Jewish identity itself is of no salvific benefit unless it is accompanied by obedience to God (v. 27; cf. Rom 2:9, 12b–13). As in 2:14–15 Paul refers here to the gentile who paradoxically fulfills the Torah, though he remains uncircumcised. Such “Torah keeping” is intrinsic to the phenomenon of covenant renewal, which has now been fulfilled in Christ, and is thereby open to the ingathered gentiles who along with Jews have offered their obedient allegiance (v. 26). “For a Jew is not a person who merely appears to be so, nor is the real circumcised person one who is physically this way. Rather, a Jew is a person who is one inwardly, and true circumcision is of the heart, by the Spirit, not letter; this person’s praise comes not from people but from God” (vv. 28–29 trans. mine). Here, Paul makes use of the title “Jew” in superordinate fashion to indicate all, regardless of ethnic identity, who participate in the (re)new(-ed) covenant (and creation) (cf. Jer 9:25). That God would circumcise the heart of his people is a central notion of the covenant’s anticipated renewal on the other side of exile (cf. Deut 30:1–6). As pointed out above, additionally central to this promise is the agency of God’s spirit. (3:1–8) In 3:1 Paul’s interlocutor retorts to what seems to be the erasure of normative Jewish identity in God’s redemptive program. Paul wants to make clear that he is not proposing Jewish identity according to traditional first-century ethnic norms has been rendered in any way obsolete. Jewish identity remains of great value and, again, the promises that God has “made to Israel and through Israel to the rest of the world” (Wright, Romans, 747) ultimately depend upon God’s faithfulness, and not in the first place upon that of God’s people (vv. 2–4; cf. Rom 9–11).

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Yet, in vv. 5–8, Paul asserts that his gospel proclamation is not a form of “cheap grace,” as some have mockingly asserted. While God is indeed faithful to save, he is also faithful to judge— the Jew first and also the gentile (cf. Rom 1:18; 2:9–10, 27).

The Gentile and Jewish World Are under the Dominion of Sin (3:9–20) Paul concludes in v. 9 with what he has established in 1:18–3:8, namely, that sin is operative in both the gentile and Jewish world. He follows this conclusion in vv. 10–18 with a scriptural catena from Eccl 7:20/Ps 14:1–3 (vv. 10–12); Ps 5:9 LXX (v. 13a); Ps 140:3 (v. 13b); Ps 10:7 LXX (v. 14); Isa 59:7–8 (vv. 15–17); and Ps 36:1 (v. 18) demonstrating in hyperbolic fashion the pervasiveness of sin. In vv. 19–20 he points to the Torah’s role in explicating and condemning sin (cf. Rom 7:7–24). Whereas God’s historic people, Israel, demarcated by the “works of the Torah” (v. 20 trans. mine) possessed a provisional status of righteousness in the former age (cf. Phil 3:6b), now that the new age has dawned, and God has provided the once-and-for-all means through which the power of sin has been broken, there is no longer available a righteous status for God’s people outside of what God has done in Christ (cf. Rom 10:3–4; Gal 2:15–16; 3:10–11; Phil 3:9).

God’s Solution to the Shared Plight of Human Sinfulness (3:21–31) (3:21–26) The “righteousness of God,” which is to say the gospel of Jesus Christ, “has been revealed” (v. 21). This righteousness is “apart from the Torah and the prophets” (trans. mine) though fully anticipated and witnessed to by both. Paul’s formulaic expression, “faithfulness realized in Jesus Christ” (pisteōs Iēsou Christou) (v. 22 trans. mine), encompasses the entire, transsubjective dynamic inherent to the gospel message. The nexus of divine and human faithfulness is found in the person and work of Jesus Christ, who himself was faithful to execute God’s plan of redemption for the whole world (cf. Rom 5:18–19; Phil 2:5–11), in fulfillment of the covenant promises. Righteous status/covenant identity is secured, then, by God’s sovereign grace shown in the Christ event. Paul characterizes the significance of God’s act in Christ in terms of the “mercy seat” of the Ark of the Covenant (hilastērion) upon which was placed the blood of the sacrifice in Israel’s sacrificial cultus to provide atonement for sin (cf. esp. Lev 16). He also evokes in v. 25 the Exodus story, the paradigm of redemption in the Hebrew Scriptures. God “passed over the sins previously committed” and has now provided liberation from the power of sin (cf. Rom 5:22). Verse 25 points, moreover, to the temporary suspension of God’s final judgment, as already suggested in 2:6–11, to allow for repentance and salvation. Verse 26 summarizes that God’s own righteousness is on full display in the gospel of Jesus Christ, which is the very means by which Jews and gentiles are made righteous—that is, confirmed or brought anew into the covenant. In this way God’s faithfulness is answered by human faithfulness or allegiance to Christ (v. 22b), as Paul declared in 1:16–17.

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(3:27–31) In vv. 27–31 the interlocutor asks, “What becomes of the claim to honor?” (trans. mine). Paul’s answer is that such claims for either the Jew or the gentile are wholly ruled out by the gospel. In v. 27 he refers to the Torah from two different perspectives, namely, its function in the prior age before the coming of Christ, “(Torah) of works,” and its function in the new age, “Torah of faithfulness” (trans. mine). It may be observed here that when Paul refers to “works (of the Torah)” he has in mind specifically normative Jewish identity as made manifest through full Torah submission. “Full Torah submission” does not mean “perfect obedience.” Rather, in view is the full body of ordinances contained in the Torah, including those laws that, for Paul, continue to distinguish Jewish identity from gentile identity, including pre-eminently circumcision, as well as, for example, kashrut and Sabbath observance. “Works (of the Torah)” thus functions as a synecdoche for normative Jewish identity (cf. Rom 3:20; 3:27; 4:2; 9:12; 11:5; Gal 2:16; 3:2, 5, 10). The latter function of the Torah, the “Torah of faithfulness,” is its fulfillment in Christ for the (re-)new(-ed) covenant and creation multiethnic people of God. Paul will return to this dispensational contrast vis-à-vis the Torah in 7:21–8:8. As embodying God’s salvific will for his people in the previous age, Jewish identity—cast here by Paul in first-century normative terms—was indeed formerly coextensive with covenant identity. But God’s plan had always been to redeem the whole world (cf. Rom 16:25–26) and bring it back into a proper relationship with him—a truth revealed in the Shema (Deut 6:4–9). The “oneness” of God—that he is the only Creator God, the God of both Israel and the nations— precisely means that the basis of righteous status can only ultimately be found in the anticipated, final expression of God’s ḥesed in the Christ event, for Jew and gentile alike. Accordingly, Paul’s gospel is firmly rooted in the Torah, and as such represents the fulfillment of God’s plan from creation. Any perception among members of either subgroup that they stand in a privileged, more honorable place within the community is illusory. Jews and gentiles equally stand among God’s righteous ones through the singular means of the Christ event, the foundation of their superordinate identity.

What about Abraham? Abraham as Ingroup Exemplar and “Children of Abraham” as Superordinate Identity (4:1–25) (4:1–3) In v. 1 the interlocutor asks, “What then will we say we have found Abraham, our forefather according to the flesh, to be?” (trans. mine). The expression to find (heuriskō) someone to be a certain way is a fairly common one in the Pauline corpus (cf. 1 Cor 4:2; 15:15; 2 Cor 5:3; 9:4; 11:12; 12:20; Gal 2:17; Phil 2:8; 3:9). This question would also reflect the typical portrayal of Abraham in the Jewish literature, as being found faithful (Neh 9:8; Sir 44:20; Jub. 17:18; 1 Macc 2:52). From the Torah one finds that Abraham was reckoned righteous by God. Abraham is unsurprisingly referred to here by Paul’s interlocutor as “our forefather according to the flesh.” Late Second Temple Jewish thought understood Abraham as the ancestor of the Jewish people in terms of a myth of common biological descent (cf. Rom 9:5; 11:28). Integral to this perception, his fidelity and righteousness were viewed as inextricable from his submission to the rite of

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circumcision, and by extension, to the entirety of God’s instruction to Israel. It should be noted that while the references in the relevant literature to Abraham being found faithful are in many cases pointing to the Aqedah, Abraham’s general faithfulness to God’s instruction is also often in view vis-à-vis a transtemporal understanding of the Torah—that it was operative prior to its revelation through the agency of Moses (cf. Sir 44:20; 1 Macc 2:51; Jub. 18:16; 24:11; 2 Bar 57:1–2; Jub. 24:11; Sir 44:20; CD 3.2; see further Schliesser, 213, and commentary on 9:6–13 below). However, v. 2a hints that the simple equation of fidelity and righteousness with full Torah submission is misleading and would indeed result in the sort of Jewish honor claim that Paul says is prohibited by his gospel. The question of vv. 1–2a could be therefore reiterated, “What then will we say that we have found Abraham, our forefather according to the flesh, to be if not accepted by God precisely because of his submission to all the ordinances of Torah, confirming that covenant membership is dependent upon this, and thereby giving him—and by extension all Jews—a claim of honor over against the non-Jewish world?” Paul objects to the interlocutor’s line of reasoning in v. 2b: “Not as far as God is concerned!” (trans. mine). He cites Gen 15:6 in v. 3, which portrays God’s act of reckoning Abraham righteous in response to Abraham’s offering of his allegiance to God. Paul associates “reckoning” here strictly with an act of divine sovereignty (cf. Rom 4:8). God is not compelled to make humans righteous but chooses to do so as an expression of his sovereign grace and mercy. (4:4–8) Abraham’s righteous status, while conferred by God upon the offering of Abraham’s allegiance to him (cf. Rom 10:10), is not, then, fundamentally predicated upon this allegiance. Rather, the “reward” (v. 4; cf. Gen 15:1) of God’s covenant relationship with Abraham (and later with Israel, as Paul will explicate in Rom 9), and the promises of God this entails, is ultimately secured by God’s ḥesed rather than the content or quality of Abraham’s (or any person’s) faithfulness (v. 5). This covenantal dynamic is also evident in God’s dealings with David, as per Paul’s citation of Ps 32 in vv. 7–8. Illustrative of Paul’s premise, the Psalm affirms, “Blessed is the one whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. . . . The woes of the wicked are many, but God’s ḥesed surrounds the one who trusts in him” (Pss 32:1, 11). (4:9–12) In vv. 9–10 Paul explicitly states that God’s reckoning of Abraham as righteous was prior to his submission to the ordinance of circumcision. In v. 11a he claims that the role of circumcision was as a seal of this righteous status, that is, of the newly formed covenant relationship between Abraham and God (cf. Gen 17:11 LXX). It is in vv. 11b–12 that Paul’s eschatological convictions informing his reading of Scripture are revealed (cf. Rom 4:23–24). Because Abraham’s covenant membership was established prior to his submission to the Torah ordinance that comes to distinguish Jewish identity, God’s plan all along was that non-Jews would likewise be brought into the covenant alongside Jews. The entrance of these gentiles is thus anticipated by the uncircumcised yet righteous Abraham. For Paul, this plan has only now been fulfilled in God’s act in Christ, according to which the restoration of Israel has been inaugurated, and the nations are consequently being brought into God’s covenant people. (4:13–25) Verses 13–16 reveal the underlying logic by which he could make the assertions he did in vv. 9–12. First, the twin promises of the Abrahamic covenant, offspring and homeland, are here

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both conflated and universalized into the inheritance of the entire world (cf. Rom 4:17; 8:18–25; 1 Cor 3:21–23; Sir 44:19–21). He will expand upon this conviction regarding creation renewal in 8:18–23. The inheritance of the world comes not through a righteous status expressed in full Torah submission, as per the previous age, but through pistis (v. 13; cf. Rom 9:30–32; 11:6), which, as explained above, points to the intersection of divine and human faithfulness found in the gospel and serves as a synecdoche for “in Christ” identity (cf. Rom 1:16–17; Gal 3:21–29). As made clear in 3:19–22, the Torah was never intended to be the final means through which righteousness could be secured for God’s people. Rather, the Torah itself (along with the prophets) promises a fresh act of divine initiative, in which God would reconcile the wayward members of the covenant to himself (cf. esp. Deut 30:1–6). Paul will affirm in Rom 7 that the Torah and its commandments, while “holy and just and good” (Rom 7:12), could never elicit obedience. And because its temporary and partial soteriological function has reached its intended goal in the inauguration of the new age where God has intervened as promised (cf. Rom 10:4; Gal 3:19–29; 2 Cor 3:7–11), in the absence of Christ it can only ultimately function as a means of explication and conviction of sin (cf. Rom 3:20; 5:20; 7:13; Gal 3:19; 1 Cor 15:56). Outside of Christ, then, the Torah has become the vehicle for God’s eschatological wrath, which will culminate in the final judgment (v. 15; cf. Rom 1:18; 5:9; 1 Thess 1:10; 5:9; Col 3:5–6). In v. 16 Paul points to the Jewish subgroup within the Roman Christ community as “those born from the Torah” (trans. mine). In doing so he makes clear the continuing saliency of normative Jewish identity in Christ. That is, full Torah submission continues to function for Jewish Christ allegiants as both an appropriate expression of ethnic identity (as is the case, for Paul, with all Jews prior to the final judgment) and faithfulness toward God, in as much as this submission is done in view of one’s allegiance to Christ (cf. Rom 14:6–9; 1 Cor 9:31). In vv. 17–18 the rightful presence of the gentile subgroup is affirmed on the explicit basis of Gen 17:5. The community of righteous ones necessarily consists, then, of both Jews qua Jews and gentiles qua gentiles, who share Abraham as father and exemplar of ingroup identity. This superordinate group is referred to in v. 16 as “those born from the faithfulness of Abraham” (trans. mine), that is, those who find their identity in Abraham’s pistis by being “in Christ” (cf. Gal 3:16, 27–29). Paul draws a direct correspondence here between Abraham’s faithful response to God’s promise (vv. 19–20) and God’s faithful fulfillment of this promise found finally in the multiethnic Christ community (v. 21), who, like Abraham (v. 22), possess the status righteousness (v. 24; Gal 3:7; see similarly Johnson Hodge, 79–91). In v. 25 Paul echoes the suffering servant song of Isa 52:13–53:12. The servant’s vicarious suffering and death provides for expiation of sin and the restoration of Israel as God’s righteous ones. However, throughout the servant songs of Isaiah, the servant is also portrayed as having a unique role to fulfill on behalf of the other nations (cf. Isa 49:6), and is, moreover, explicitly identified as Israel (cf. Isa 44:1; 45:4; 49:3; 42:18–43:1). It is almost certainly the case that Paul conceived of Jesus Christ in precisely these terms. Namely, both the agent responsible for Israel’s own redemption (cf. Rom 9:5; 11:26; 1 Cor 11:23–25), and also the very embodiment of Israel, who self-sacrificially fulfills Israel’s vocation to bring blessing to the other nations, as per the original promise to Abraham in Gen 12:3 (cf. Gal 3:8), and the anticipation of the nations’ conversion to the God of Israel as prophesied throughout Isaiah (cf. Isa 2:2–5; 11:9–10; 45:18–25; 51:4–5; 55:5; Rom 15:7–13). 270

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Thus, in accordance with God’s redemptive program set in motion by Abraham’s faithful actions and culminating in the Christ event, all people groups can now be set right, fulfilling the promise and, indeed, the Torah itself. As the ultimate manifestation of God’s ḥesed—God’s sovereign grace and mercy in answer to, and giving victory over, the problem of sin (cf. 1 Cor 15:57)—no room is left for honor claims of one subgroup over another among those who have only in this way been made righteous (cf. Rom 11:17–24).

Section II: The New Community in Christ vis-à-vis God’s Purposes in Salvation History We Share an Identity in Christ (5:1–6:23) (5:1–5) As pointed out by Patricia M. McDonald, the first-person plural is employed eighteen times in 5:1–11, denoting a shift from primarily two groups being in view to now only one (McDonald, 81–96; cf. Esler, 196–97). In this section Paul will draw together the implications of what he has proposed to the respective subgroups of Jews and gentiles in the preceding sections vis-à-vis the common identity that he and his auditors share in Christ. Having prepared the way, as an “entrepreneur of identity” he will seek especially here to intensify the saliency of this shared identity. In vv. 1–2 Paul affirms the consequences of God’s “grace” toward the community through the faithfulness realized in Jesus Christ (cf. 2 Cor 5:11–21), which is found in their shared state of righteousness and the “peace” wrought between them and God (cf. Rom 5:10–11). Further, while he has forbidden claims of honor of one subgroup over against another in 3:29–31, here he promotes a proper claim of honor that belongs to the whole community (cf. Rom 5:11), which is their common hope that they will be fully restored to God’s image in the general resurrection (“sharing the glory of God”), as Paul will elaborate in ch. 8. In v. 3 he also asserts that the community can (paradoxically) claim honor in suffering, which would normally be cause for shame within the greater first-century Mediterranean milieu (v. 5). Nothing of the community’s experience in the present order is wasted. Rather, God will use it in shaping their identity in anticipation of their final glorification—their vindication as God’s children (cf. Rom 8:18). This common hope is a testimony of God’s love for them, which is testified to them through the presence of the Holy Spirit in the community (cf. Rom 8:1–17), who was also active in the resurrection and exaltation of Jesus Christ as the Son of God (cf. Rom 1:4). The subtext of 5:1–5 is unmistakable: as God has shown grace, peace, and love to the community, so they too should demonstrate these qualities toward one another, as inextricable to their very identity in Christ. (5:6–11) In vv. 6–11 Paul expresses the magnitude of God’s love for the community shown in the Christ event. He implicitly draws, once more, a contrast between the community (“us”) and those on the outside (“them”). Unlike those who do not avail themselves of the opportunity to repent of their sin, as the community of righteous ones they will experience salvation from God’s wrath befalling the wicked and ungodly among both Jews and gentiles (cf. Rom 1:18). 271

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Paul intertwines here past, present, and future implications of the community’s identity in Christ (cf. Rom 8:29–30). Regarding the past, because of what God has already accomplished in Christ, the members of the community, though formerly God’s “enemies,” were brought into a right relationship with God. Indeed, the community possesses as an ingroup exemplar no less than the ancient patriarch Abraham (Rom 4), whose children they are, and the gospel that defines their identity was “promised beforehand through [God’s] prophets” (Rom 1:2; cf. Rom 3:21). Regarding the present, they now stand reconciled with God, and enjoy God’s grace, peace, love, and the presence of the Spirit (Rom 5:5; 8:1–11). Regarding the future, they will be saved from God’s wrath in the final judgment and are destined for glorification through the living Christ (cf. Rom 2:16; 8:28–30; 14:7–11; 2 Cor 5:10), hope in whom, as already suggested in v. 2, is the sole grounds for the community’s claim of honor (v. 11). Marco Cinnirella has suggested that “social groups will create shared ‘life stories’ or narratives of the group which tie past, present, and predicted futures into a coherent representation.” He points out, moreover, that “where a substantial number of ingroupers become motivated to avoid or attain a shared possible social identity, then this is likely to lead to collective action” (Cinnirella, 235, 229). In as much as Paul is explicating here important theological truths that permeate his gospel—especially the hope of final salvation in contradistinction to those outside of the community—such temporal aspects of the community’s allegiance to Jesus Christ pose equally important social implications that serve his overarching discursive goal in the letter: ensuring a continuing, stable community unified around his gospel, which will then serve as viable base of operation and support for his westward mission. (5:12–21) Verses 12–21 elaborate upon the basis for the community’s reconciliation with God and form the groundwork for Paul’s later exposition of how allegiance to Jesus Christ should relate to community praxis. Further, this explanation will prepare for the forthcoming discussion on the critical role of the Torah in God’s purposes, and its proper role within the community, which, having been introduced already in 2:12–16, 25–29; and 3:19–31, is broached again in 5:13, 20–21. Paul accomplishes his agenda in this section through establishing a type/antitype relationship between Jesus Christ and Adam. In vv. 12–14 he proffers the entrance of sin into the world through the person of Adam (cf. Sir 25:24; 4 Ezra 3:7–27; 7:116–26; Apoc. Ab. 23:12–14) and alludes to the consequence of disobedience to God’s command in the creation myth in Gen 2:15–17, which is death. Paul’s claim that “death came to all people because all sin” (trans. mine; note the gnomic aorist, hēmarton, indicating here a general condition for all humankind) is an acknowledgment of the pervasive sociocultural consequences originating from Adam’s initial act of disobedience, in which no people group is exempt, as he asserted in 3:9, 23. That is, Adam introduces a sociocultural reality that becomes so entrenched in the human experience it is for all practical purposes wholly unavoidable. For Paul, that “all sin” is simply an empirical reality—a fact of life necessarily stemming for its original perpetrator, Adam. And since Adam’s sin led to exile from the Garden of Eden, and thus access to the tree of life, human mortality has run its course unabated; rightfully so, and without exception due to every person’s own culpability, regardless of the specific nature of one’s own sin. Paul points out that God-ordained human dominion over the rest of the created order (cf. Gen 1:26–28) has been co-opted by sin and death (cf. Gen 4:7; 8:21). He also clarifies that sin

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did indeed exist in the world prior to the giving of the Torah, but sin becomes more explicitly so once God establishes specific laws that regulate human praxis, as he will explain more fully in 7:7–13. Verses 15–17 present Jesus Christ as Adam’s antitype. In as much as Adam introduced sin and death into the world, the “grace of God” and the “free gift” of eternal life is introduced through God’s gracious act in Christ. Whereas Adam’s introduction of sin into creation brought with it “condemnation,” the subsequent introduction of Christ provides for the ultimate means of righteous status before God, and thus the full restoration of God’s image in humankind—that is, the faithful dominion that fundamentally defines human identity. In vv. 18–19 Paul articulates the contrast between Adam and Christ in terms of their respective actions. In contrast to Adam’s “disobedience,” he explicitly refers to Jesus Christ’s “act of righteousness”—his “obedience” to God in fulfillment of God’s redemptive program to make humans righteous and give them eternal life, the very quality of life that God originally intended for all human beings in creation (cf. Isa 45:22–23 LXX; 52:13–53:12). In vv. 20–21 he explains that with the entrance of the Torah in God’s purposes for the world sin multiplied and intensified as a result, given the Torah’s role in the explication and conviction of sin. But this predicament was met by even greater divine graciousness in the Christ event. God’s grace is thus shown to have dominion over sin and death, providing for human righteousness and eternal life (cf. 1 Cor 15:25–26, 54–57; Gal 3:19–22). (6:1–5) But rather than providing a justification for lawlessness (cf. Rom 3:8), Paul’s gospel precisely allows for the sort of Torah obedience indicative of what it means to be a member of God’s (re-)new(-ed) covenant and creation people, and which is intrinsic to the very salvation that has been accomplished for them. Since a false perception of being free from the Torah in an absolute sense would have almost certainly been one entertained among at least some non-Jews, ch. 6, while applicable to the whole community, is perhaps especially directed to the gentile subgroup. Any thought that a Christ allegiant can “continue in sin” would be to completely misunderstand the nature of God’s enabling grace, the implications of covenant and creation renewal and identity, and, then, the true nature of human identity (vv. 1–2). The rationale for Paul’s argument is predicated upon a participatory understanding of the Christ event vis-à-vis the communal entrance rite of baptism. Baptism provides the concrete mechanism in which Christ allegiants via the Spirit are brought into communion with Christ and each other. In this way, they too experience Christ’s death to the old order of things, and consequent life congruent with the new age, free from sin and death (vv. 4–5). (6:6–19) Though its full implications will not be realized until the general resurrection of the dead, when sin and death experience their final defeat and human identity is fully restored, the new life available to the Christ allegiant has nevertheless been inaugurated (cf. Rom 8:18–30; 1 Cor 15:20–28, 45–58, 2 Cor 3:18; 5:1–5; Gal 5:5). Paul therefore calls community members in vv. 6–13 to exert themselves in obedience to God and refuse to act in ways contrary to the implications of their participation in Christ. It should be observed that both here and in his other letters Paul’s moral admonition to the communities he addresses are derived from the Torah, and its overarching ethical vision—the doing of justice and righteousness, which are inextricable to the command regarding love of neighbor (see below), clearly endures for him (cf. Mic 6:8; Amos

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5:21–25; Isa 1:17; 5:7; 42:1–9; 56:1; Jer 7:5–7; Mark 12:28–34; Matt 22:36–40; 23:23–24; Luke 10:25–28; 11:42). Thus, he reasserts the rationale for his call upon Christ allegiants to live Torah-faithful lives in v. 14 by pointing out that they in fact no longer live under the old age of Torah, but rather under the new age of grace, which is the era begun in God’s act in Christ. In other words, rather than rejecting the Torah wholesale, Paul is, conversely, proffering its eschatological realization for the multiethnic Christ community. To continue sinning is, then, a contradiction of the very reality in which the Christ community, as God’s “righteous ones,” finds itself (vv. 15–19). (6:20–23) In vv. 20–23 he contrasts the present status of righteousness belonging to Christ allegiants with their former captivity to the power of sin and death (cf. Gal 4:1–9; 5:1). No longer slaves of sin or subject to death, their life of freedom is found and manifested in their servitude to the liberating God, who offers this eternal life through Jesus Christ. Paul here portrays Christ community identity in radically dichotomous terms with all prior identities that may still compete for supremacy among community members. In doing so he seeks to affirm the decision to give allegiance to Christ and thus follow through on the intra- and intergroup implications he has been exhorting throughout the letter, despite the very real potential for (further) marginalization and even social death, as suffered in some measure by the Macedonian and Galatian communities he founded (cf. Phil 1:27–30; 1 Thess 2:14–16; Gal 5:7–12).

Covenant and Creation Renewal and Christ Community Identity (7:1–8:39) (7:1–6) Paul’s discursive goal to recategorize the community’s primary subgroups according to their common ingroup identity in Christ leads him to specifically address each of them. Whereas the previous chapter was especially directed to the non-Jews in Paul’s audience, ch. 7, while also applicable to everyone in the community, is especially directed toward the Jewish subgroup, which likely included gentiles who were associated (either in the past or presently) with the synagogue community in Rome, and therefore possessed strong Jewish sensibilities. They are, like Paul himself, “brothers and sisters . . . who know the Torah” (v. 1a trans. mine; cf. v. 4). In vv. 1b–4 he describes the relationship between the community and Jesus Christ through the metaphor of marriage, and the specific ordinances of the Torah that regulate it (Deut 24:1–4). A woman is bound to her husband as long as her husband is alive, but she becomes free to remarry if her husband dies. Correspondingly, Christ allegiants have participated in Christ’s death to the old order—the age of Torah characterized as life in the “flesh,” vulnerable to sin and death (v. 5). They have likewise been united with Christ in his resurrection—raised to “the new life of the Spirit” (v. 6). Jesus Christ represents, then, both the husband who dies and the new husband whom the woman is free to marry (cf. 2 Cor 5:16–17; Gal 4:4–5). Paul asserted in the previous chapter that God’s people are now enabled via the Spirit to manifest the righteousness/faithfulness to God prescribed by the Torah, which is intrinsic to their very identity (cf. Rom 2:12–16, 25–29). As such, it is important to recognize that the captivity to which he refers in 7:6 does not point to the Torah in an absolute sense, but to its role in

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condemnation. That is, Christ allegiants have been “discharged” from the age of Torah—the era of the old covenant and creation, where sin and death has corrupted human dominion and identity (cf. Gal 1:4; 2:19–21; 3:13, 21–23; 4:4–5; 5:1, 13–18; 2 Cor 3:1–4:5; 5:16–21). (7:7–25) Accordingly, in vv. 7–20 he sets out to distinguish the Torah as it has been co-opted by the sinful inclination of fallen human beings, with the result that it even enticed one to sin (Rom 7:5, 8, 11), from its integral purpose in God’s redemptive program. Here, Paul identifies with Israel, the bearers of the Torah (cf. Rom 3:2), vis-à-vis salvation history. By revealing God’s will for his people, the Torah necessarily serves as a means of defining sin and establishing its consequences (cf. Rom 5:20; 6:23). Though the Torah promises life to those who obey it (Lev 18:5; Deut 30:15–20; Ezek 20:11; Rom 10:5–13), it is powerless to compel this obedience, leaving God’s people under the dominion of sin ultimately liable to the condemnation of death (cf. Rom 5:20–21; 11:32; Gal 3:22; 1 Cor 15:56). In vv. 21–24 Paul, as similarly in 3:27 (though there in a different manner), refers to the Torah from two perspectives that are in conflict: (1) the Torah as the revelation of God’s will for his people, which brings life; and (2) the Torah as co-opted by the power of sin, inspiring God’s people to rebel against him, which brings death— that is, the “Torah of sin (and death).” This conflict is inherent to the old order from which God has rescued his people through Jesus Christ. (8:1–4) In ch. 8 Paul announces the consequence of God’s rescue project: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (v. 1). “The Torah of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus” (v. 2 trans. mine) refers to the Spirit’s infusion of the Torah on the hearts of God’s people, enabling the very obedience to God’s will that leads to and characterizes eternal/resurrection life. In this way Christ allegiants are liberated from the Torah as it has been co-opted by sin, leading to the condemnation of death. Since the Torah could not itself make people righteous, God intervened as promised “by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and to deal with sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, so that the just requirements of the Torah might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit” (vv. 3–4 trans. mine). (8:5–11) This announcement serves to establish the nature of the superordinate identity shared by the Roman Christ community. Fundamental to the community’s identity is the presence of the Spirit among them, and the concomitant acts of faithfulness toward God that result from the Spirit’s empowering. Those outside the community still live in the old order of the “flesh.” Their minds are set on the “flesh,” and they are hostile to things of God and alienated from Christ. In contrast, the community members are destined for resurrection from the dead, at which time their righteous status/new order of life will be fully realized (vv. 5–11). In this section the language of “Spirit” and “flesh” is employed in concentrated fashion as a means of thoroughly differentiating between Paul’s auditors and those outside the community. As similarly in 6:20–23, his discourse here may be understood as negotiating the underlying sociocognitive processes of social categorization and social comparison that serve to strengthen intergroup boundaries, and provide for self-evaluation and self-enhancement of group members in the assumption “that people have a basic need to see themselves in a positive light in relation to relevant others (i.e. to have an evaluatively positive self-concept), and that self-enhancement

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can be achieved in groups by making comparisons between the in-group and relevant out-groups in ways that favour the in-group” (Hogg et al, “Theories,” 260). (8:12–17) In vv. 12–17 Paul utilizes the language of kinship, which in “ancient Mediterranean society . . . was the most basic social institution. . . . characterized by its intimacy and fidelity” (Esler, 247–48). The members of the Christ community are not only Abraham’s children, as he explained in ch. 4, but “God’s children.” They “have received a spirit of adoption/sonship” and have been “reborn” into an intimate relationship with God as “Abba, Father.” They are heirs of the promises with Jesus Christ (cf. Gal 3:7–4:7). (8:18–39) In 4:13 Paul referred to the inheritance of the world that properly belongs to Abraham’s descendants. Having declared in 8:17 that Christ allegiants are co-heirs with Christ, beginning in v. 18, he will now bring to the fore the phenomenon of creation renewal (cf. Gal 6:15; 2 Cor 5:17; 1 Cor 3:21–23; 6:2; 15:20–28; Col 1:15–20; Eph 1:7–14; Isa 65:17–25; Zech 9:10; Sir 44:19–21; 1 QH 13.15–18; 17.15; 1 En. 5.6–7; for the inextricability of covenant and creation renewal in fulfillment of the promises to Abraham see similarly Jub. 1:23–29; 4:26; 19:21–25; 22). The creation itself anticipates the coming revelation of God’s family who will be able to reclaim the wholly faithful dominion over the nonhuman order, which has been in slavery to ruin because of human sinfulness (cf. Rom 1:21–24, 26, 28), but is now being restored in Christ. In other words, the image of God has become the very equivalent of the image of Christ, to which Christ allegiants are in process of transformation (v. 29; cf. 2 Cor 3:18; Col 1:15–20). Collectively they are thus God’s renewed multiethnic humanity who faithfully rule with Christ as co-heirs for the benefit of the entire creation. At several points throughout the letter Paul has appealed to the temporal implications of Christ community identity by weaving together the past, present, and future of God’s redemptive program in ways well at home within the ancient Mediterranean view of time, which did not perceive past, present, and future as discrete periods, as per a modern Western understanding, but as being more thoroughly connected (Esler, 252–67). Accordingly, 8:18–30, echoing the original exodus story in the Hebrew Scriptures, presents the future hope of all creation’s final liberation from sin and death as inextricable from the community’s present, Spirit-empowered, and hopedriven praxis and identity (cf. Exod 19:4–6; 20:1–17; see also esp. the motif of a “second exodus” for God’s people following the judgment of exile in Isa 4:2–6; 10:24–26; 11:11, 15–16; 35:5–10; 40:3–5; 41:17–20; 42:14–16; 43:1–3, 14–21; 49:8–12; 51:9–10; 52:11–12; 55:12–13; 60:2, 19; 63; Hos 2:14–23; 12.9; Mic 7:14–20). This hope that results from and informs the present life and circumstances of the community—the hope in which they have been saved (v. 24)—finds its source in God’s past activity in Christ, and has been, moreover, secured according to God’s foreknowledge and predetermined plan (cf. Rom 16:26). Because the future that is in store for Christ allegiants is on the horizon, it can be spoken of in v. 30 as if it has already been accomplished. Already, the Roman Christ community represents those whom God has chosen, vindicated, and glorified by virtue of Christ’s own resurrection, “the firstborn” of God’s family (v. 29). And thus, despite appearances (i.e., “sufferings,” “weakness” [vv. 18, 26]) the community has as a present possession the honor accorded to members of God’s royal household in contradistinction to the rest of the Greco-Roman world. Regardless of present circumstances that would seemingly demonstrate the contrary within the ancient Greco-Roman

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ethos, they are “more than conquerors,” inseparable from God’s love, and, indeed, heirs of the entirety of God’s good creation (vv. 31–39).

What about Israel? The Surety and Interdependence of Jewish and Gentile Salvation (9:1–11:36) (9:1–5) In 9:1–5 Paul draws upon his own Jewish identity to demonstrate his concern for Israel—a concern that he expresses in similar fashion to Moses in Exod 32:30–34, in his willingness to be forsaken by God if this could somehow guarantee his own people’s reconciliation to God. He continues by listing seven election privileges of Israel. Finally, he asserts that Jesus Christ himself is an Israelite, and, moreover, “God over all, forever praised”; a claim unambiguously implying that failure to embrace the gospel is nothing short of idolatry (v. 5 NIV; cf. Phil 2:8; Titus 2:13). In this light, he now turns to address the painful irony of the ostensible failure surrounding Israel. Why are there not more Jews entering the Christ community? What of Israel’s promised salvation? (9:6–13) In 9:6 Paul states that the word of God has not in fact failed. His explanation, as assumed earlier in the letter, is that God’s people have always ultimately been demarcated according to God’s ḥesed rather than mere ethnic affiliation. As pointed out above, in the Jewish tradition from which he draws here, the patriarchs were already obeying the Torah prior to it being revealed through Moses; the patriarchs are thus “Jews” par excellence. Yet, Paul can demonstrate the primacy of God’s ḥesed in vv. 6–13 by tracing the special election of the Jewish patriarchs that was a matter of God’s sovereign grace and mercy rather than human activity (vv. 7–12). (9:14–17) In vv. 14–15, citing Exod 33:19, Paul defends the righteousness of God by suggesting that it is the very nature of God to show ḥesed to those whom he has chosen. Indeed, the prophetic promises of covenant and creation renewal on the other side of exile are so dependent (cf. esp. Isa 54:8–10). Corresponding to this conviction, the entire narrative of Exod 32–34 clearly informs Paul’s argument (cf. 1 Cor 10 and 2 Cor 3 for Paul’s appeal to this passage). In the aftermath of Israel’s violation of the first commandment, God relents of Israel’s destruction and decides to renew the covenant (cf. Exod 32:11–14; 34:1–34), with forgiveness for sin then asserted as an explicit attribute of God in relation to the covenant people (cf. Exod 20:4–7 with 34:6–10). There are, therefore, no grounds for complaint against God. If covenant identity was secured instead by “human will or exertion” (v. 16)—that is, the full Torah submission that properly manifests Jewish identity, rather than God’s covenant love and faithfulness, then Israel—or, of course, the nations—would not be saved (cf. Rom 11:25–27). Paul’s reference to the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart anticipates his explanation surrounding the apparent failure of the gospel to be embrace by the majority among the Jewish people. First, the Exodus narrative portrays Pharaoh’s initial obstinacy as his own doing prior to God’s decision to harden his heart. Second, interconnected to this act of hardening, God chose not to judge Pharaoh (and Egypt) immediately, but would instead take advantage of Pharaoh’s obstinacy as a means of testimony to the truth of God (vis-à-vis the progressive series of plagues) to not only

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Israel but “in all the earth” (v. 17). In this way God’s act of hardening serves a redemptive purpose for the whole creation. (9:18–26) In vv. 18–19 Paul anticipates an objection to God’s ostensible manipulation of human beings. He cites in v. 20 Isa 29:16 and 45:9, though very likely also having in mind Jer 18:1–10 (cf. Wis 15:7). The passages portray God’s obvious, uncontested sovereignty over the creation, and specifically Israel. The potter has power over the clay. As especially seen in the Jeremiah passage, the clay is spoiled; Israel has committed itself to idolatry and covenant faithlessness. But God will work to reshape the clay—to reshape Israel so that they may be true to their covenant calling and identity as God’s people, and in so doing bring about the highest good on their behalf and, as a result, that of all creation. In vv. 21–23 Paul differentiates between two kinds of vessels made from the same lump of clay: “vessels of wrath” and “vessels of mercy.” He will similarly refer to “the elect” and “the rest” in ch.11, and it is clear there that these two groups do not represent fixed categories of persons. So too here. Though God has the right to make each kind of vessel, God expressly prepared beforehand the vessels of mercy for glory (cf. Rom 8:28–30), while the vessels of wrath have ostensibly prepared themselves for destruction (cf. Rom 1:19–32). Paul suggests that God patiently endures with these vessels in the hope that they will repent before God judges them (cf. Rom 2:4). In vv. 24–26 he further reveals who the “vessels of mercy” are. They are those whom God has called from among the Jews and also now the gentiles—that is, the (re-)new(-ed) covenant people (in Christ), as was promised in Hos 2:23 and 1:10. What may seem like divine capriciousness is in actuality the outworking of God’s gracious and merciful purposes, beginning from the original promise to Abraham (Rom 9:8), for Jew and gentile alike. (9:27–10:4) In vv. 27–29 Paul cites Isa 10:22–23 and 1:9 LXX that speak of the promised remnant of Israel and associates this group with the minority of Jews who have in fact embraced the gospel. Moreover, as in Isaiah, this “remnant” functions for Paul as a sign of hope that a much larger group from within Israel will eventually be saved. However, the present reality is that, ironically, the nations who were formerly excluded from covenant relationship with God have now obtained it, but Israel in large part has yet to secure this righteous status. Israel’s failure lies in not recognizing that such righteousness is ultimately only attainable in Christ, which is a matter of dissension among them (9:30–10:3). “Christ is the telos of Torah” (10:4)—that is, the eschatological arrival of God’s righteousness that makes people righteous (cf. Rom 3:21–26). Therefore, the faithfulness that properly manifests covenant identity is foremost found in allegiance to him and no longer normative Jewish identity demarcated by “works (of the Torah).” (10:5–21) Romans 10:5–13 provide a fuller articulation of the claim Paul has made in v. 4. The one of whom Leviticus speaks who has actually done what the Torah requires is the Christ allegiant, who experiences the resurrection/eternal life promised in both Lev 18 and Deut 30, as per Paul’s eschatological reading of Scripture (cf. Ezek 20:1–39 with 36:22–37:28). God does not discriminate, showing grace and mercy to Jews or gentiles who turn to him (cf. Rom 2:11; 3:22). Thus, as Joel 2:32 and Isa 28:16 LXX anticipated, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved” (v. 13).

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In 10:19 Paul references the Song of Moses in Deut 32, which speaks of a time when God will claim for himself those who are “not a nation,” “a nation without understanding” to arouse Israel’s jealousy in the same way that their faithlessness to God arouses his jealousy for them. This passage represents for Paul a prophecy of gentile Christ allegiants who, again, were formerly aliened from the God of Israel and the covenant (cf. 1 Cor 5:1; 9:21; 12:2; Gal 2:15; 1 Thess 1:9– 10; 4:5; Eph 2:11–13), but who are now participating in the blessings of covenant renewal. The entrance of the nations into the covenant will have the desired effect of inciting Israel’s passion for their own God who had originally called them as his own special people. They will want what properly belongs to them. And this is, for Paul, precisely the scenario on which God is counting, with outstretched hands (vv. 20–21, citing Isa 65:1–2 LXX). (11:1–6) In 11:1 Paul proclaims that God has not in fact rejected Israel. Indeed, their restoration has been inaugurated in the Christ event. Paul and the faithful “remnant” of Jews who have embraced the gospel are evidence that God’s purposes in and through Israel remain operative. He reminds his audience here of the continued saliency of normative Jewish identity. That is, Paul remains a Jew (cf. Phil 3:4–5; 2 Cor 11:22), and so too do the members of the Jewish subgroup within the Roman Christ community. Though he seeks to intensify the community’s perception of the common identity they share as Christ allegiants, this superordinate identity demands respect for subordinate identities contained therein and not least that of normative Jewish identity. This unity in diversity, and concomitant respect for Judaism in particular, is a point to which both subgroups apparently need reminding. If Paul has earlier in the letter tore down Jewish privilege (cf. Rom 2:17–24; 3:27–30; Gal 2:18), he will do much the same in ch. 11 with gentile arrogance and presumption over the Jewish people. His reference in vv. 2–4 to the story of Elijah in 1 Kgs 19 demonstrates that amid the seemingly overwhelming faithlessness within Israel, God has always had those who remain faithful as a signal of hope for Israel’s restoration. Paul reaffirms here that this present remnant of Jews has been called on the grounds of God’s enduring ḥesed that has once and for all been revealed in Jesus Christ (cf. Rom 9:24). In so much as “works (of the Torah)” define normative Jewish identity they remain a perfectly appropriate expression of covenant faithfulness for Jews in Christ, as Paul makes explicitly clear in 1 Cor 7:17–20 (cf. 1 Cor 1:23–24) and has presupposed in this letter (cf. Rom 1:16; 2:25; 3:30; 4:12, 16; 9:24; 11:11–32; 15:7–13). However, with God’s act in Christ in fulfillment of the promises normative Jewish identity is no longer coextensive with covenant identity. The nations qua nations are now joining God’s historical people. Thus, because covenant membership is fundamentally determined by God’s grace it can necessarily no longer be demarcated by “works” (vv. 5–6; cf. Gal 2:15–16, 21; 3:10–14, 18, 22–29). (11:7–12) In 11:7 Paul distinguishes between “the elect” within Israel who have in fact obtained the right standing with God that Israel had been seeking and “the rest [who] were hardened.” The verb pōroō (“to harden”) refers to a callousness to God’s redemptive program. But, as with Pharaoh, God is not acting upon Israel as tabula rasa, but (like all humanity) a “disobedient and contrary” people (Rom 10:21). That a part of Israel was hardened indicates that the resistance toward the gospels exhibited by non-Christ-allegiant Jews was intensified, but not chosen, by God. It is a state that will last until the eschaton and final judgment (v. 10), to the extent that “the rest” of Israel who have not offered allegiance to Jesus Christ choose to remain in such a state.

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As in Isaiah’s original prophecy (Isa 29:10 LXX) cited in v. 8, Israel’s hardened condition is an act of divine judgment for their covenant infidelity. Here, the infidelity is found in their failure to receive the Christ. However, as also the case in Isaiah, judgment is a means to a restorative end for God’s people. In vv. 11–12 Paul reveals the purpose behind the phenomenon of Israel’s partial hardening. It is not to incite Israel (as a whole) to fall (cf. Rom 11:22–24). Rather, it opens an extended period during which time God’s final judgment is suspended, allowing for the repentance and consequent salvation of the nations through the proclamation of the gospel (cf. Rom 2:6–11; 3:25). Like Pharaoh, the rest are hardened “so that [God’s] name may be proclaimed in all the earth” (Rom 9:17). But the salvation of the nations is not an end in itself. It functions, in turn, to bring about the full number of the elect within Israel (cf. Rom 9:6–8, 23–26). (11:13–15) In v. 13 Paul explicitly addresses the gentile subgroup. Paul may have a special commission to the nations, but his missionary goal serves the salvation of his own people, Israel; a matter of sure concern to the Jewish subgroup. It is clear from vv. 14–16 that he believes his mission to the nations will eventually spur Israel to jealousy over their relationship with God, and the intensity of their passion for what rightfully belongs to them has the power to overcome presently hardened hearts. Those Jews who had been reckoned among “the rest” can then be included among “the elect” upon offering their allegiance to Jesus Christ. Importantly, it is acceptance of Jesus Christ that brings about the removal of hardening, and not the removal of hardening that brings about acceptance of Jesus Christ, as similarly portrayed in 2 Cor 3:12–16. This dynamic is wholly consistent with the phenomenon of covenant renewal, as seen especially in Ezek 36:26–28. The enduring centrality of Israel in God’s redemptive program, and, indeed, the importance of Jews coming to Christ are matters that Paul especially seeks to impress upon his auditors. Many gentiles within the Roman Christ community may have concluded that the apparent lack of success of the gospel among Jews indicated that God’s attention had drifted away from Israel and onto the other nations. Many Jews in the community (or gentiles with strong Jewish sensibilities) may have similarly questioned whether this was indeed the case. Paul seemingly assumes that this impression, if left unchecked, would lead to a toxic combination of triumphalism on the one hand, and despair on the other that could then destabilize the whole community. Thus, he writes here “rather boldly by way of reminder” (Rom 15:15). If God has seemingly rejected a majority among the Jewish people for their rejection of Christ (vis-à-vis the judgment of “hardening”), and this has allowed for the reconciliation of the nations to God, Israel’s subsequent embrace of him—and God’s acceptance of them—will mean “life from the dead” (v. 15). In other words, the return of a Jewish person to the community of righteous ones, the elect in Christ (cf. Rom 9:24), “should be celebrated as a little Easter” (Wright, Climax, 248). Paul may also be suggesting that once the total elect from the Jewish people is secured it will signal the eschaton and the general resurrection of the dead (cf. Bar 2.27–35; 4:1–37; Jub. 1:14–23; 23:26; T. Dan 5:4–13; 6.4; T. Sim. 6:2–7; T. Jud. 23:5; T. Iss. 6:4; T. Zeb. 9:7–8; T. Mos. 1:18; Tob 13:5–17; 4QMMT C 12–32; Acts 3:19–20.) (11:16–24) In v. 16 he offers two metaphors, one of a bread offering (cf. Num 15:19–21) and the other of an olive tree. In each case, the point he is making is that the quality of something’s source dictates the quality of what comes forth from it. Paul has in view Israel’s patriarchs with whom

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God established the covenant promises (cf. Rom 9:6–13; 11:28–29). The idea here, which is ubiquitously observed in the relevant Jewish literature and fundamental to the Jewish worldview and sense of identity, is perhaps best expressed in texts such as Deut 10:14–15 and Exod 19:5–6. As with the patriarchs so too Israel as a whole: they have been irrevocably set apart by God for a special (covenant) relationship. In vv. 17–24 Paul continues with the metaphor of an olive tree. He argues that though some of the “natural branches” (Jews) were “broken off ” (for failure to recognize the Christ), the branches from a “wild olive tree” (gentiles) that have been grafted into a cultivated olive tree (God’s covenant people) should not believe that they have then replaced the natural branches and have now taken over the tree. The gentile subgroup is thus prohibited from claiming honor over the Jewish people; they are not to be pretentious (vv. 18–20), having only now, through Christ, been brought in to share in the covenant blessing with Israel (cf. Rom 9:4–5). Moreover, the presently non-elect of Israel can still be brought back into covenant relationship with God if they would indeed offer allegiance to Jesus Christ. Further still, God’s present favor toward the nations should not be presumed by them to continue unconditionally and indefinitely: “If God did not spare the natural branches perhaps he will not spare you” (cf. Rom 2:4–5; Gal 6:7–10; 1 Cor 6:9–11; 2 Cor 13:5–10). (11:25–36) Paul’s assertion in vv. 25–27 is simply a succinct restatement of what he has already described, revealing the mysterious process, heretofore unknown, through which God is saving Israel and the nations according to the promise (cf. Rom 1:2; 4:13–25; 15:8–9; 16:25–26). The partial hardening of Israel will continue until the salvation of the nations in toto is achieved— that is, the full number of the elect among the gentile world. The salvation of the nations allows, in turn, for the salvation of “all Israel”—that is, the full number of the elect among the Jews. As routinely observed, “All Israel” is a collective designation that does not necessarily indicate every Jewish person. It is equivalent here to Israel’s “fullness” (11:12) and is exactly parallel to the “fullness of the gentiles” (11:25). In Paul’s understanding the category of “the rest” will eventually dwindle, and the category of “the elect” will consequently grow, and by a significant number in his hope. God’s judgment of hardening is, then, the paradoxical means by which God will save both groups who are thereby fully dependent upon each other. Paul is envisioning here God’s patient work of inciting Jewish passions toward God upon witnessing the transformation of pagan idolaters to righteous covenant members through their allegiance to Israel’s Christ. God is committed to Israel and has fulfilled his promises to them through the life, death, resurrection, and future return of Christ, all to which Paul refers in v. 26 by citing Isa 59:20–21 LXX. Israel will experience covenant renewal, in which their sins—their covenant infidelity—is dealt with once and for all, as prophesied in Isa 27:9 LXX (v. 27). Because Paul’s concern is the unity of the Jewish and gentile subgroups, any animosity directed toward one subgroup by the other would clearly interfere with his agenda. He therefore reaffirms in v. 28 that Jewish obstinacy to the gospel has served to benefit the gentile subgroup (“for your sake”), who has been the encoded audience since v. 13. Nevertheless, Israel’s election endures; God must fulfill his promises to the patriarchs, which necessarily includes the salvation of the Jewish people (v. 29; cf. Rom 4:12, 16). The Christ community, no less than Paul himself, must earnestly desire and seek the gospel’s success among the greater Jewish community, and appreciate the true significance of those Jews presently allegiant to Christ. They are the faithful 281

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remnant of God’s historic covenant people, who are a sign that God is indeed faithful, and that eventually many more like them will likewise be confirmed in the covenant. In vv. 30–36 Paul continues his special address to the gentile subgroup and provides a pointed summary of all that he has proposed in chs 9–11, emphasizing the mutuality of God’s ḥesed (“mercy”) shown each group. In vv. 33–36 Paul offers a doxology, citing Isa 40:3 LXX and Job 41:11, that expresses the incomprehensibility of God’s sovereignty as it works in and through free human choices for God’s wholly gracious and merciful purposes to be—however surprisingly, or even paradoxically—fulfilled.

Section III: Community Dynamics, Paul’s Mission, Greetings, and Closing Exhortation The Dynamics of Christ Community Identity, Part I (12:1–13:14) (12:1–8) In view of all that Paul has explained in the previous eleven chapters, in 12:1–2 he makes an appeal based on God’s “compassion” (cf. Rom 9:15b) to all his auditors, his “brothers and sisters,” who share the same (superordinate) identity in Christ. They are God’s “loved ones” (Rom 1:7) and the “children of God” (8:19). They are those into whose hearts “God’s love has been poured” and to whom “God proves his love . . . in that while [they] still were sinners Christ died for [them]” (Rom 5:8). They are “more than conquerors through him who loved [them]” and inseparable “from the love of God in Christ Jesus” (Rom 8:37, 39). Paul will thus characterize this common identity in chs 12–13 as one in which the members of the community will act out of love for God (cf. Rom 8:28) and each other, seeking the highest good for the entire community, as well those on the outside, even if at one’s own expense. This communal lifestyle runs in several important respects contrary to the greater Greco-Roman ethos of the present age but is fully consistent with the (re-)new(-ed) covenant and creation in which Christ allegiants participate. His exhortation in 12:1–2 that initiates the section recalls key premises from chs 7–8, dealing with the implications of covenant and creation renewal. Paul asserted ideas as setting one’s mind on the things of the Spirit, according to which one obeys God’s Torah (Rom 8:5–8; cf. 7:25), and “put[ting] to death the deeds of the (old) body” (Rom 8:13; cf. 6:12–14) in favor of living in accordance with the new, Spirit-enlivened body (Rom 8:11; cf. 6:18–19). He will now set out to explicate a Torah-shaped identity in the age of grace; an identity that conforms to the image of Christ via the Spirit (cf. Rom 8:14, 29; 10:4). Kathy Ehrensperger comments that the section “almost reads like a commentary on/homily to Leviticus 19”; a passage that fundamentally concerns love and righteousness as representing the two central characteristics of the identity as “holy ones” to which God’s people are called (Rom 1:7) (Ehrensperger, 102). Paul will detail here what this means in practice for the Christ community. The appeal to the community “to present your bodies as a living sacrifice” is language that would resonate with the Jewish subgroup considering the Jewish sacrificial cult but would certainly not be foreign to the gentile subgroup, given the predominance of cultic sacrifice in one form or another throughout the ancient Mediterranean world. Though already possessing the

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status of righteousness, they are nevertheless exhorted here to “not be conformed to this (present) age but be transformed by the renewing of [their] minds, so that [they] may demonstrate what the will of God is.” In view is the community’s total devotion to God, and thus “set apartness” from the dominant Greco-Roman culture, which will necessarily entail a loving commitment and mutual obligation to each other (cf. Rom 12:9–10). Paul is calling here for the cessation of competition between the subgroups—the pursuit of honor and status over against one another. This prohibition is made explicit in v. 3, in which he asserts that members of the community are “not to think of [themselves] more highly than [they] ought to think” (cf. Rom 12:16). Rather than an achievement or status reached over others, God assigns to each person a “measure of faithfulness,” which is to be strictly used in service to the entire community. Competition is thereby ruled out. Importantly, in vv. 3–8, Paul demonstrates how diversity is intrinsic to the Christ community, which is here characterized as a human body, with individual members representing various body parts. A Christ-allegiant, Torah-fulfilled lifestyle to which community members are called is not uniform, and this diversity is critical to the whole community’s proper functioning. As such, in vv. 6–8 he catalogues a series of divine gifts given to them in the form of vocations carried out by different members, which are for the benefit of all. (12:9–21) In light of this unity in diversity, beginning in v. 9, he offers a description of the sort of communal norms that should typify the entire membership, as representing both the appropriate response to the divine ḥesed shown them and the outworking of the very redemption that they now enjoy. This description consists of a series of terse exhortations exemplifying qualities prescribed for God’s people in the Torah and met by God’s people through the empowering of the Spirit. They fundamentally arise from the command to love one’s neighbor (as inextricable to love of God), as he will later make explicit (cf. Rom 13:8–10; 15:30). Above all else, the community’s identity is to be defined by agapē—both God’s love for them, and their love for God, each other, and indeed the rest of the world. (13:1–7) In ch. 13 Paul develops the notion that the communal identity of agapē extends to its relationship with the rest of the world. He has already asserted in the previous chapter that the community is to (1) “bless those who persecute [them]” (v. 14); (2) “not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all” (v. 17); (3) (to the extent possible) “live peaceably with all” (v. 18); and (4) refrain from vengeance, and “overcome evil with good” (vv. 19–21). The Roman Christ community still lives in the “present evil age” (Gal 1:4; cf. Rom 12:2), and this social reality must be negotiated accordingly. He therefore exhorts the members of the community in vv. 1–2 to submit themselves to Roman civic authorities. The rationale Paul provides is that the highest authority to which the community must submit is God, and if God is ultimately sovereign then all subordinate authority exists only in so far as God has allowed it to do so. In portraying the Empire along these lines, Paul immediately relativizes its power. The implicit point to his auditors is that the Empire is to be obeyed, but only to the extent that its dictates do not contradict the commands of God to the community. The community is always to do good, as Paul has stated. And by doing so they should receive approval from the authorities (v. 3). The reverse will be the case for those who do wrong.

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The authorities “bear the sword” as “the servant of God to execute wrath on the wrongdoer” (v. 4). Paul’s exhortation here does not account for the occasion, which will eventually represent a reality for Christians in Rome, when right action will result in the Empire’s “wrath.” Yet, he has already provided for the appropriate communal response in the event of such an occurrence in 12:14–21. Paul continues his appeal for appropriate civic life in vv. 6–7, exhorting the community to pay taxes—and, indeed, to pay whatever is properly due to the civic leaders over them, as to God’s servants commissioned with this task. While the community has been set apart by God through their allegiance to Christ as Lord and concomitant praxis, the passage demonstrates Paul’s nonsectarian view of Christ community identity. As presupposed throughout the letter and explained above, being “in Christ” does not then indicate that other identities one may possess, however transformed and subordinated, are finally dissolved. The Christ allegiants in Rome are still Romans and must accord themselves suitably to the extent their superordinate identity allows. (13:8–14) In vv. 8–10, citing the commands found in Exod 20:13–15, 17; Deut 5:17–19, 21, he concludes that these are all summed up in the command of Lev 19:18: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” The love that defines the community’s identity is the very fulfilling of the Torah. Paul has already asserted in 8:4 that because of God’s act in Christ “the just requirements of the Torah [are] fulfilled in the [Christ community], who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.” In this light, he suggests here that the praxis of Christ allegiants must reflect the status that they already possess before God in cooperation with the Spirit (cf. Rom 2:14–16, 25–29; 1 Cor 7:19; 9:21; Gal 5:6, 14; 6:2). As further motivation to live out the sort of love demanded of them in the face of forces that would lead them to do otherwise, Paul points in vv. 11–12 to the coming kingdom of God. The return of Jesus Christ, and concomitant eschatological events, including the final judgment and general resurrection of the dead, is imminent. In view of what God will eventually do in terminating sin and death, they are exhorted further here to reject “the works of darkness,” refraining from those actions inconsistent with communal norms—that is, those of the “flesh,” or old order of things (cf. Rom 6:12–14; 8:12–14). They are to instead “put on” the “armor of light/Lord Jesus Christ.” Again, there is an important temporal aspect to identity, to which Paul has alluded at several points in the letter. He once more encourages the community to actualize for themselves in the “now time” what is already on the horizon—their final glorification in which they will become like Christ, and sin and death will be utterly defeated (cf. Rom 6:5–11; 8:23, 29–30).

The Dynamics of Christ Community Identity, Part II (14:1–15:13) (14:1–4) “Welcome those who are weak in the faithfulness (of Christ), but not for the purpose of passing judgment” (v. 1 trans. mine). Chapter 16 suggests that the Roman Christ community consisted of several house/tenement ekklēsiai with at least some measure of affiliation with one another. It can be safely concluded that there was a sufficiently significant variation of general praxis between these ekklēsiai, in which some were disposed toward normative Jewish patterns of life, while others were not. The former likely consisted of a mixture of native Jews, Jewish proselytes, and gentile synagogue associates, some or most of whom may have continued to

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regularly attend synagogue worship. Because of the ostensibly stalled success of the gospel among Jews in Rome, and/or the possible absence of Christ-allegiant Jews from 49 to 54 CE due to Claudius’s ban of at least some Jews from the city (Suetonius, Claud. 25.4; Acts 18:2), these normative Jewish-oriented ekklēsiai were probably far fewer in number. Members of these respective ekklēsiai were coming into contact regularly enough, perhaps as invited guests to the Lord’s Supper (cf. 1 Cor 11:17–34). If indeed Christ-allegiant Jews were forced out of Rome because of the ban, then the gentiles who participated in their congregations would have needed to join new ekklēsiai. In any respect, inevitably, there were visiting Christ allegiants that did not share the sensibilities of the host congregation. As with his Corinthian correspondence (cf. 1 Cor 8–10), I suggest that here the weakness Paul has in view concerns the conscience. That is, “the weak” are easily made unsure of what more specific praxis is required of them and are thus more vulnerable to conflicting thoughts that may inspire unfaithful actions. Accordingly, it is almost certainly the case that these weak Christ allegiants possess the following two additional characteristics. First, they are present or former gentile synagogue associates won to Jesus Christ by those community members who had such synagogue attachments, and who then began to participate in these existing members’ meetings. Second, they are exhibiting weakness due to a change in normative social influence. It may be as well that some or more of these persons are relatively new to the Christ-movement, and/or have otherwise adopted “in Christ” identity in a more limited fashion. If somewhat recent entrants to the community they are perhaps not unsurprisingly still “weak in the faithfulness (of Christ),” though the same would hold true for more peripheral members regardless of the length of time for which they had participated. In any case, that they were non-Jews but who had adopted certainly forms of normative Jewish praxis is what created the conflicts Paul addresses here as they visited other Christ community congregations in Rome that consisted predominately if not entirely of gentiles. Because these other ekklēsiai probably represented most of the congregations in the city, he necessarily focuses on them in this section of the letter. Unlike the original or home congregations of “the weak,” the gentiles of these ekklēsiai had no present or former synagogue attachments, and/or wholly embraced the notion that as gentile covenant members they were not in any way obligated to follow the normative Jewish-specific ordinances in the Torah, that is, the “works (of the Torah)”—for example, kashrut, Sabbath observance, and, of course, circumcision. They were simply not sensitive to traditional Jewish sensibilities. But it would seem, moreover, that Paul discerns in this exigency a certain disdain by at least some gentiles in the Roman Christ community for normative Jewish praxis in general, particularly given the negative attitude directed toward the greater Jewish community, which he confronted in ch. 11. Notwithstanding, it also seems that he is keen to the likelihood that such ethnocentric attitudes can arise from either subgroup toward the other (cf. Rom 2:17–20; 3:27–30), and so his admonition in this section swings in both directions. Paul’s discourse here represents, then, a more fundamental concern for the relationship between the Jewish and gentile subgroups, which has occupied him throughout the letter, and is appropriately indicated in his concluding remarks in 15:7–13. While Paul desires such inter-congregational exchange to continue, in vv. 1–3, he prohibits the passing of judgment upon those with conflicting views regarding the observance of kashrut. In v. 2 the “weakness” in question is not found in the eating of vegetables (as a practical means to remain faithful to the food laws; note that much of the meat sold in the marketplace was 285

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pork, or had been ritualistically contaminated, or otherwise prepared in ways that violated certain Torah prescriptions). Rather, this remark describes the concrete situation in which the weakness of these persons as described above becomes manifest, as he will eventually make explicit in 14:21–23. He states that the one who eats all things “believes” (pisteuei) he should, but he does not characterize the weak person’s eating of vegetables in the same way, as expressly a matter of faithfulness. This distinction implies precisely why the person eating vegetables in this scenario is weak, namely, they are not “fully convinced in their own mind” that they should be doing so (v. 5; cf. Rom 14:15, 23). Thus, the praxis of these weak gentiles in Christ contrasts with that of their exemplar, Abraham, who “did not weaken in faithfulness . . . . but grew strong . . . being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised” (Rom 4:19–21 trans. mine). The rationale for his prohibition against passing judgment is that God has welcomed all members of the community, including, then, both the Jewish and gentile subgroups and their corresponding congregations in Rome (cf. Rom 2:11; 3:22–24; 8:31–39; 10:11–13; 11:32). As “God’s servants” there is no right afforded members to judge one another in this fashion, lest they be encroaching on what properly belongs to God. Only God can judge, and God has already delivered his verdict of righteous to every Christ allegiant (v. 4). (14:5–12) In vv. 5–9 Paul utilizes as examples central markers of Jewish ethnicity, kashrut and Sabbath observance, to articulate how faithfulness toward God can be appropriately expressed in multiple ways—even when such ways directly conflict in substance with one another. Each Christ allegiant must be “fully convinced” that what they do serves this goal. Regardless of the way one honors the Lord, the fact is that they belong to the Lord, “who is God over all” (Rom 9:5), and whatever they do in life or death should be a consequence of their obedient allegiance to Jesus Christ. In vv. 10–12 he reiterates his prohibition against this sort of judgment of one another, further revealing the motivation that lies behind it, asking, “Why do you despise your brother or sister?” He cites Isa 49:18 and 45:23 LXX, which portray the universality of God’s judgment, indicating once again that all “will be accountable to God” (v. 12; cf. Rom 3:6; 14:4). The reality of God’s coming judgment should make clear both that the act of judging is strictly God’s prerogative and, moreover, that to wrongly presume such a role over against others in the community is a matter to which one will answer before God. (14:13–19) Paul concludes: “Let us therefore no longer pass judgment on one another, but resolve instead never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of another” (v. 13). This concluding admonition represents a clear implication of the community’s fundamental identity marker that is love. Christ in his love died even for “sinners” and “enemies” (Rom 5:8–10), “so that to all [God] may show mercy” (Rom 11:32). There is, then, no justification for God’s people defined by this love to “cause the ruin” of those, like themselves, “for whom Christ died” (v. 15). If indeed the community fully appropriates the identity that Paul has described in chs 12–13, then all such judgmental attitudes as portrayed here (not the sort of discernment that Paul has exercised in the letter) would be left behind as a relic from the passing age of the “flesh” (cf. Rom 8:5–9, 12–13)—“the old humanity [that] was crucified with [Christ]” (Rom 6:6), and which have no place among God’s renewed humanity who share in Christ’s life (cf. Rom 6:7–11; 12:14). As Ehrensperger has argued, rather than making “revolutionary” assertions that seek to undermine, and ultimately dissolve, normative Jewish-specific Torah ordinances, in vv. 14

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and 20 Paul is drawing upon standard Jewish notions regarding the holy/profane and pure/ impure. Within the general Second Temple Jewish worldview these categories do not represent ontological realities. Foods are determined to be impure not because they are intrinsically so, but because God had determined them to be so for his people, Israel, though not for the other nations. This is an understanding confirmed for Paul by the universal lordship of Jesus Christ over all of God’s inherently good creation (cf. Rom 8:20–21; 10:12), to which he has repeatedly appealed since 14:4, culminating in 14:11–12 (Ehrensperger, 99–100). Thus, in v. 14 he points to the reality that nothing is “profane (koinos) in itself; but it is profane for anyone who considers it to be profane.” In this light, it is irrelevant if there is no prescription for gentiles to observe kashrut. While Paul is adamant that gentiles in Christ should not proselytize to normative Judaism (as especially indicated in his letter to the Galatians) and maintain, then, their subordinate identity as gentiles, even they may choose to follow certain normative Jewish practices if they wish. The gentile at home in normative Jewish-oriented congregations who has chosen to adopt the food laws, no less than the Jew who observes them as fundamental to his/her own identity, should not be compelled to do otherwise. To facilitate the violation of another’s conscience, even if the resulting action is theologically correct in an abstract sense, is to nevertheless work contrary to the cause of Christ, as well as the kingdom of God, which foremost concerns doing what is right (“righteousness”), living in “peace,” and experiencing “joy in the Holy Spirit” (v. 17). It is these things that should be pursued by the members of the Christ community, in service to Christ and each other, for the “building up” of everyone (vv. 18–19; cf. Rom 12:5, 9–10, 16, 18). (14:20–23) Verses 20–21 summarize all that Paul has stated in this section. The insistence of the “gentile-oriented” congregations that “all foods are pure” is indeed correct. But that is insufficient grounds for failing to accommodate those who nevertheless observe diet restrictions as an expression of their own covenant faithfulness to God. It is in keeping with Christ community identity to forego one’s liberty if its exercise incites a conflict of conscience on the part of a “brother or sister” causing them to “stumble.” The specific nature of one congregation’s expression of faithfulness, if within the boundaries of the communal identity that Paul has outlined in chs 12–13, is not to be presumed as binding over others. It is, rather, a concern only for those Christ allegiants in question as they stand before God. Those whose “own conscience bears witness” (Rom 2:15) that they live covenant faithful lives receive blessing (v. 22). In contrast, those who act in ways that violate their own conscience before God—eating foods they understand are forbidden to them as covenant members— are condemned, because they are demonstrating themselves to be unfaithful, which is sinful irrespective of the actual content of their actions. (15:1–6) “We who are strong ought to bear the weaknesses of those who are not strong, and not please ourselves” (15:1). In Gal 6:2 Paul similarly exhorts the Galatian Christ community to “bear one another’s burdens.” In doing so they can “fulfill Christ’s Torah” (trans. mine), which, as suggested above, points to the overarching ethical demands of the Torah that are incumbent upon all Christ allegiants, Jews and gentiles, to observe. As in Galatians so here in Romans, the fundamental Torah command to “love your neighbor as yourself ” (Rom 13:10; Gal 5:14) must inform and direct all aspects of life for the community. What serves the best interests of others must take precedence

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over that which pleases one’s own self (v. 2). Verse 3 calls attention, via a citation from Ps 69:9, to Christ himself as exemplifying self-sacrifice for the sake of others (cf. Phil 2:5–11). Following his appeal to the Scriptures as the community’s source of instruction, in vv. 5–6 Paul prepares for his conclusion to that which he has stated not simply in this section but the letter in its entirety. He petitions God, who he characterizes here as “the God of perseverance and encouragement” (trans. mine), to grant the Roman Christ community “to live in harmony with one another, in accordance with Christ Jesus so that together [they] may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (15:7–13) Verses 7–13 form the conclusion to the main discourse of the letter. Paul reasserts the need for the community to “welcome one another” (cf. Rom 14:1) and supplies the rationale: “Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God” (v. 7; cf. Rom 14:15). “For I tell you that Christ has become a servant of the circumcised for the truthfulness of God in order to confirm the promises to the fathers, and as a result the gentiles may glorify God for (God’s) mercy” (vv. 8–9a trans. mine; cf. Rom 3:3–7). This statement assumes Paul’s conviction that in Christ God has brought about the promised restoration of Israel and consequential ingathering of the other nations, as the final expression of God’s ḥesed in fulfillment of the promises. The explanation for Paul’s concern that gentiles and Jews, respectively, retain distinct subordinate identities is here revealed. The path of proselyte conversion to normative Judaism offered to gentiles as a means by which they could participate in the covenant is a thing of the older order that has been eclipsed by Christ’s coming. As consistent with the eschatological pilgrimage tradition, the nations qua nations are now being brought into the covenant people of God. The universal redemption envisaged in the passage was the divine plan all along, and Paul provides a catena of biblical texts—Ps 18:49 (cf. 2 Sam 22:50); Deut 32:43 LXX; Ps 117:1; and Isa 11:10 LXX—that collectively portray the joining of gentiles qua gentiles with Jews qua Jews (“his people”; v. 10) into a single, and necessarily unified, community of the redeemed (vv. 9b–12). Together they can offer praise and celebration to God through the risen Christ, “the root of Jesse . . . who rises to rule the nations,” and who is the source of their “hope” of salvation (v. 12; cf. Rom 8:18–25; 12:9; 15:4). In v. 13 Paul offers a prayer to the “God of hope” that summarizes his desire for the Roman Christ community that they will be filled with “joy and peace” (cf. Rom 12:18; 14:17), and “abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” By praying in this way Paul highlights critical indicia (joy, peace, hope) of the common identity he hopes to intensify among them.

Paul’s Forthcoming Missionary Program (15:14–33) (15:14–24) In 15:14 Paul offers a commendation, typical of Greco-Roman letters of this sort, affirming that the Roman Christ community is well-grounded and mature in the gospel (cf. Rom 1:8–12). Though they are able to instruct one another, he points out in v. 15 that he has nevertheless sought to instruct them on important implications of the gospel. He has done this to more firmly establish their shared identity, and thus their role within the larger Christ-movement vis-à-vis his apostolic ministry, which he characterizes here in cultic terms.

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Paul claims honor in what Christ has accomplished through him (cf. 1 Cor 15:10; Phil 2:16). This accomplishment lies in bringing about the obedient allegiance of the nations to Jesus Christ throughout the previously unevangelized regions where he preached the gospel (vv. 17–21; cf. Rom 1:5; 10:14–17; 16:26; 2 Cor 10:12–18; 1 Cor 3:1–23). Since he has now accomplished that phase of his ministry, he is able to come to them on his way to Spain (vv. 23–24). Paul lets on in v. 24 his hope that the Roman Christ community will provide the support he needs for this westward mission—a hope that represents a central purpose behind the writing of the letter. (15:25–33) In vv. 25–26 he explains that he must first go to Jerusalem. He will deliver to the Christ community there the collection that he has gathered from the Christ communities he established in the regions of Achaia and Macedonia (v. 26; cf. Gal 2:10; 1 Cor 16:1–5; 2 Cor 8:1–9:15). This collection is a concrete representation of the unity of Jews qua Jews and gentiles qua gentiles in Christ as the (re-)new(-ed) covenant and creation people of God, and almost certainly influenced, moreover, by the eschatological pilgrimage tradition that envisions the nations delivering their gifts to Israel (Bird, 510, cites: Isa 45:14; 56:6–7; 60:6–7; 66:19–20; Mic 4:1–2, 13; Tob 13:11; 1 QM 12.13–15). Verse 27 reflects the notion that Paul explicitly addressed in Rom 11, namely, the interdependence and mutuality of blessing between Jews and gentiles, along with the acknowledgment that the nations have entered Israel’s story and are thereby indebted to the Jewish people (cf. Rom 9:4–5). Clearly, his mention of the collection, and explication of its underlying purpose, serves his agenda of unifying the Jewish and gentile subgroups in the Roman Christ community and ensuring a viable base of operation for his forthcoming mission. In vv. 28–29 Paul restates his intention to come to Rome on route to Spain, following his delivery of the collection in Jerusalem. He requests in vv. 30–31 that prayer be made on his behalf concerning his reception by both outsiders and insiders of the Christ-movement in Jerusalem. A positive answer to this twofold prayer will mean that he can finally come to Rome “with joy” (v. 32). Paul concludes this section by invoking the presence of the “God of peace” among the community (v. 33), and so in these last two verses highlights two key descriptors of Christ community identity: joy and peace (cf. Rom 14:17; 15:13).

Greetings and Closing Exhortation to the Roman Christ Community (16:1–27) (16:1–16, 21–23) It may especially be observed in this section that Paul positively affirms Jewish ethnicity (vv. 7, 11, 21) alongside those who are non-Jews, which is critical to his overarching discursive goals, as well as women who are leaders in the Christ-movement alongside himself (vv. 1–4, 7; cf. Phil 4:2–3). In his letter to the Galatians Paul explicitly asserts that all in the Christ community—Jews and gentiles, men and women, slaves and free persons—are “one in Christ Jesus” (Gal 3:28), and so the inequalities and divisiveness that traditionally accompanied these and other social differences, are a thing of the old order (cf. Col 3:11), “the present evil age” from which Christ allegiants are being liberated (Gal 1:4). With respect to ethnicity and gender, the dissolution not of difference wholesale but of antagonism between these groups in

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Christ precisely means that each group must be fully respected by its counterpart. Accordingly, this section demonstrates in a nonpropositional context how Paul’s conviction concerning unity and equality in the context of abiding difference is simply basic to his view of Christ community identity, and seemingly inextricable, then, from all other defining communal characteristics. (16:17–20) Verses 17–20 form a final exhortation to the Roman Christ community. Paul warns them of the prospect of “those who cause dissensions and offenses” infiltrating the community. This potentiality seems to have been a perennial concern of his (cf. 2 Cor 11:2–4; Gal 1:6–9; 3:1; 5:7–10; Phil 3:2, 18; Acts 20:29–32). It is highly unlikely that he has a specific group in mind outside of the general characterization offered here (especially not one that spans his letters referring in one way or another to such agents of dissension). It would seem, rather, that this admonition serves to reinforce Paul’s central concern for unity, which is indeed central to the gospel of Jesus Christ itself (cf. Eph 4:1–5). Thus, he instructs the community not to welcome any person or group that may incite division in contradistinction to the teaching that they have received. While acknowledging their reputation for obedience to Christ (cf. Rom 1:8), Paul nevertheless exhorts them “to be wise in what is good and guileless in what is evil” (v. 19; cf. Matt 10:16). Such divisive influences find their source, for Paul, in Satan, whom the “God of peace will shortly crush . . . under [their] feet” (v. 20; cf. 1 Cor 15:24–28; Gen 3:15 MT; Ps 91:13; T. Sim. 6:6; Luke 10:18–19; Rev 12:9–11). Paul looks forward here to God’s final defeat of the powers of evil—a victory that, for him, has already been decisive won by Jesus Christ (cf. 1 Cor 15:24–28, 54–57). (16:25–27) Verses 25–27 contain the letter’s closing doxology. Paul points to God as the agent responsible for strengthening the community, as per his gospel proclamation (cf. Rom 15:4–5). He refers, moreover, as he did in the letter’s opening (1:2–4), to the gospel as the apocalyptic fulfillment of the salvation history contained in the “prophetic Scriptures.” That is, what God would eventually do in and through Christ, though hidden in all pervious time, has now “been disclosed, and is attested by the Torah and prophets” (Rom 3:21 trans. mine). The Christ event is the hermeneutical key unlocking the ultimate meaning of the Scriptures, revealing the plan of the “eternal God” to accomplish the salvation of not only Israel but also the nations, of all creation, vis-à-vis the obedient allegiance to Jesus Christ. Paul aptly concludes the doxology and entire letter: “to the only wise God, through Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory forever! Amen” (v. 27; cf. Rom 11:33–36). In these final verses the entire content of the letter is summarized. Paul leaves the Roman Christ community—both the Jewish and gentile subgroups—with a call to fully appropriate the superordinate identity they possess in Christ, in obedience to Israel’s God and Christ, and in fulfillment of God’s redemptive program grounded in the Hebrew Scriptures.

References Bird, Michael F. Romans. SGBC. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2017. Cinnirella, Marco. “Exploring Temporal Aspects of Social Identity: The Concept of Possible Social Identities.” EJSP 28 (1998): 228–48.

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Ehrensperger, Kathy. “‘Called to be Saints’—the Identity-Shaping Dimension of Paul’s Priestly Discourse in Romans,” Pages 90–109 in Reading Paul in Context: Explorations in Identity Formation: Essays in Honour of William S. Campbell, LNTS 428. Edited by Kathy Ehrensperger and J. Brian Tucker. London: T & T Clark. Esler, Phillip F. Conflict and Identity in Romans: The Social Setting of Paul’s Letter. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003. Hogg, Michael A., Deborah J. Terry, and Katherine M. White, “A Tale of Two Theories: A Critical Comparison of Identity Theory with Social Identity Theory.” SPQ 58.4 (1995): 255–69. Hogg, Michael A., Dominic Abrams, Sabine Otten, and Steve Hinkle. “The Social Identity Perspective: Intergroup Relations, Self-Conception, and Small Groups.” SGR 35.3 (2004): 246–76. Johnson Hodge, Caroline. If Sons, Then Heirs: A Study of Kinship and Ethnicity in the Letters of Paul. New York: Oxford University Press, 2007. McDonald, Patricia M. “Romans 5.1–11 as a Rhetorical Bridge.” JSNT 40 (1990): 81–96. Routledge, Robin. “Ḥesed as Obligation: A Re-Examination.” TynBul 46 (1995): 179–96. Schliesser, Benjamin. Abraham’s Faith in Romans 4: Paul’s Concept of Faith in Light of the History of Reception of Genesis 15:6. Tuebingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007. Tajfel, Henri. “Social Categorization, Social Identity and Social Comparison.” Pages 61–76 in Differentiation between Social Groups: Studies in the Social Psychology of Intergroup Relations. Edited by Henri Tajfel. New York: Academic, 1978. Wright N. T. The Climax of the Covenant: Christ and the Law in Pauline Theology. New York: T&T Clark, 1991. Wright N. T. The Letter to the Romans. NIB 10. Nashville: Abington, 2002.

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1 Corinthians J. Brian Tucker

Introduction Authorship Paul and Sosthenes are co-authors (1:1), though some commentators think Sosthenes is only Paul’s scribe. In light of 16:21, Paul’s agency seems more salient than Sosthenes (Acts 18:17), it should be noted Paul was part of a broader network of Christ-movement leaders (3:9). Clement ascribes this letter to Paul at the end of the first century (1 Clement 47:1–2). Paul’s authorship is generally not challenged among contemporary New Testament scholars.

Date and Provenance The letter was written sometime between 53–54 CE from Ephesus (16:8). Building on the account from Acts, Paul founded the Christ-group in Corinth around 50–51 CE and then moved his base of operations to Ephesus for more than two years (Acts 18:1–7; 19:1–10). The Delphi Inscription describing Gallio’s proconsulship of Achaea from July 1, 51, to July 1, 52, provides a generally recognized fixed date for Paul’s mission in Corinth (Acts 18:12). If the events in 18:12 occurred in the summer of 51, it then provides a temporal nexus for the timing of the letter.

Occasion The ingroup norms had shifted since Paul’s mission base had moved to Ephesus. Paul wrote an earlier letter (5:9), to address issues of mission as social identification and boundary maintenance. His cognitive alternatives were misconstrued and thus part of the occasion for this letter was to offer an interpretation of his earlier directions (5:10–13). Another reason Paul wrote was to address the issues that were raised in the communication from “Chloe’s people” (1:11). An ongoing exchange of letters was to be expected within the earliest Christ-movement, and Stephanus, Fortunatus, and Achaicus likely delivered one of these letters to Paul (16:17) and may account for the “now concerning” (peri de) statements in the letter. From an identity formation standpoint, Paul writes to assert his hierarchical leadership by his claims over their identity and efforts to delegitimize a small group of rival leaders who have offered the Christ-group an alternative interpretation of their in-Christ identity.

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Purpose The purpose of 1 Corinthians is to offer cognitive alternatives for the way crosscutting and existing identities are to be incorporated into the Christ-followers’ identity narrative (7:17–24). Paul’s solution to this social dilemma is continued subgroup salience within a shared superordinate identity, described through various belonging-oriented images (1:18–31; 3:23), and perspectives on the present age, especially as it relates to an over-identification with their Roman civic identity (2:6; 5:10; 10:31–11:1). The social implications of the gospel have been misconstrued by some within the group and thus Paul adds content to their identity as it relates to the gospel (15:1–4). The way they make this renewed gospel-oriented identity performance evident is by participating in the collection for the poor in Jerusalem (16:1–4). To accomplish all of this, Paul has to reassert himself, as he follows Christ, as the ingroup prototype by making sure the group sees him as one of them, acting for them, and delivering in the group’s interests. These aspects of the social identity model of leadership are seen throughout the letter and hold together its overall purpose.

Social Identity Approach The reading of 1 Corinthians here focuses on the research that relies on the foundation of Tajfel and Turner’s social identity approach. It relies on the findings of Haslam, Reicher, and Platow as it relates to the social identity model of leadership. This is particularly helpful since New Testament scholars generally recognize the group-based and leadership-oriented problems evident in this letter. Social identity–oriented interpreters, such as Jack Barentsen and Kar Yong Lim, have offered persuasive readings of the Corinthian correspondence applying many of these findings. I have also worked on portions of this letter through the lens of these social identity approaches. However, I have brought to the fore the importance of seeing Paul within Judaism, that is, reading the letter from a post-supersessionist perspective. Social identity approaches provide significant theoretical sophistication in regards to subgroup identity salience. This lens also allows interpreters to discern that Paul did not have a problem with Judaism that needed fixing; his problem was with the Roman Empire. While I have argued more extensively for the way problems with civic identity are evident in the letter (and readers are directed to the bibliography for a reference), the ethnic identity and Roman filial piety concerns from the work of Aaron Kuecker provide an addition theoretical layer to the reading offered below.

Commentary Paul’s Prototypicality and the Group’s Superordinate Identity (1:1–9) The traditional letter opening includes “Paul” and “Sosthenes” as the co-writers and concludes with a prayer for “grace” and “peace” on the group (1:1, 3). Paul is part of a relational network involved in the littoral Mediterranean mission to the gentiles. He is “an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God”; this activates his leadership position within the group as an ingroup

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prototype, but not alone since his legitimation comes through his identification with Christ and via God’s will (1:1). The Christ-group is described as a “church” (ekklēsia) in Corinth, a Roman colony in the first century (1:2a). The term “church” is anachronistic in that it activates a cultural encyclopedia from a later period. ekklēsia is a term used to describe a Jewish voluntary association. This describes the institutional setting at this early stage in the Christ-movement; it still functions within the broader diaspora synagogue setting. The audience’s superordinate identity is further detailed, they “are sanctified in Christ Jesus” and “saints,” while at the same time they are connected with the broader Christ-movement, that is, “all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1:2b). This trans-local identity will be important later in the letter. The thanksgiving portion of the letter helps establish Paul’s leadership position by reminding them of their shared social category: they are recipients of “the grace of God,” they “have been enriched” and “strengthened” in Christ, they have an abundance of “spiritual gifts,” have a proper future orientation, and have been “called into the fellowship” of Jesus (1:4–9). Paul is already involved in constructing the group’s identity, though it is hidden at this point. Each of these indexes will be shown, later in the letter, to be areas where some within the group have made different choices in their identity performances and have produced a very different version of Christ-movement identity than the one Paul had instantiated. He, as their apostle, will be the accurate interpreter of who “we” are. The others, the small group of rival high-status group leaders, will be shown to be not leading with the interests of the group in mind, so Paul contests their vision throughout the letter since it has reduced the salience of their in-Christ social identity, as evidenced by the group’s disunity.

Paul and the Reestablishment of His Leadership Position (1:10–4:21) (1:10–17) The Nature of the Identity-Based Problems in Corinth Paul’s identity entrepreneurship begins by getting the group to see themselves as part of the same social category. He appeals to the Corinthians with kinship rhetoric—“brothers and sisters”—based not on their shared Roman identity but on their ongoing self-stereotyping as those who identify with “the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1:10a–b). In-Christ is going to indicate the ingroup prototype throughout the letter, and here it establishes a baseline for assessing unity. They are to “be in agreement,” no longer have “divisions among” them, and be “united in the same mind and the same purpose” (1:10c–e). Paul thinks the Corinthians have been overemphasizing the differences between members of the Christ-group, and that they need to instead perceive these differences to be smaller than they have currently because of their shared experience in-Christ. Further, for this to occur, some will also have to adjust their salient outgroup memberships (especially those related to their Roman civic identity). He’s heard from “Chloe’s people” that there are “quarrels” based on subgroup affiliations organized around prototypes that have allowed these subgroups to see themselves as distinct from others in the Christ-group (1:12). Paul downplays the role that he, Apollos, or Cephas had within the group’s history. It seems the group had started to divide over who had baptized them. This would have come from a category confusion in regard to existing Roman

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water practices and patronage. He downplays his involvement in baptisms while in Corinth, while acknowledging he did baptize “Crispus,” Gaius,” and “the household of Stephanas” (1:14, 16). While the leader who baptized a person had started to become the focus of their subgroup divisions, likely without the approval of Paul, Apollos, or Cephas, the broader issue was a general overemphasis on “wisdom” that had emerged as a new group norm after Paul had left Corinth (1:17). Paul does not wait around for the Corinthians to see him again as their ingroup prototype; he defines the nature of the context, the character of the group, and their existing identity in ways that render him again as prototypical of the Christ-group and thus moving the rival leaders to the periphery. (1:18–25) The Original Context and Vision for the Gospel Message Paul needs to get the Corinthians to conform to the context of his original vision for the group’s values, norms, and beliefs. This occurs best when the group agrees on their shared social categorization. In this part of the letter, Paul does something similar by highlighting the radical nature of the gospel message they all originally accepted. He does this through a series of contrasts that should allow the Corinthians to be reminded of what the non-self-defining categories should be. The gospel is “foolishness to those who are perishing,” in contrast it is “to us who are being saved . . . the power of God” (1:18). He then appeals to a shared narrative from Isa 19:14 LXX to remind them that God is wise and in control of the world (1:19). If social change is going to occur, there will have to be a rejection of some existing intergroup relations, so next Paul lists people who might be elevated as “wise” only to say again that God renders the world’s wisdom “foolish” (1:20). He is not rejecting wisdom per se, only as it relates to salvation, since it is a foolish message that provides rescue to “those who believe” (1:21). Ethnic distinctions continue to be relevant in Paul’s gospel proclamation (7:17–24), and here he highlights distinct challenges he has come across in his mission in regard to “signs” and “wisdom” (1:22–23). Regardless of those challenges, no social setting or ethnic identification will hinder a person from responding to the “call” to be in “Christ” (1:24). The comparisons Paul has been making in these verses end with an emphasis on God’s agency in spite of human attempts: “God’s weakness is stronger than human strength” (1:26). Paul here promotes his understanding of the context in which God’s wisdom goes forth. He thinks this will contribute to overcoming the destructive intragroup divisions by contrasting it with those “who are perishing.” (1:26–31) Remembering God’s Call and Group Membership Not only does Paul represent the group but his message brought salvation to them, and thus reduced salvific uncertainty and transformed their group from a low-status to high-status existence. He rewrites the Corinthians’ identity narrative, “consider your own call . . . not many of you were wise, powerful, [or of] noble birth” (1:26). This verse is often debated among commentators to determine the social profile of the Christ-group, it is unlikely there were any from the senatorial or equestrian ranks among the group, though a small middling group is possible. However, the vast majority of the members were existing at the subsistence or just above the subsistence level, as were most within the Roman Empire. This negative social profile, however, is nothing to be ashamed of since God works through the shameful to “shame the wise” and “reduce to nothing” those who think they are “strong” (1:27–28). Why? So that boasting will only be directed toward God—as will be evident in the letter, cultural boasting is a consistent problem for some within the Christ-group

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(1:29, 31). Social identity theory highlights the self-esteem hypothesis as one reason people join groups. While this language has a certain infelicitous nature to it when applied to the first century, Paul does at least here highlight the way membership in the Christ-group provides something similar: God “is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption” (1:30). This provides a powerful reminder that should mobilize the group to return to their original unified group life so that this community can further the Pauline mission in this important Roman colony. If this is going to occur, then Paul must reestablish himself as the group’s leader, being seen as one of the group, acting for the group, and delivering on behalf of the group. To do that, he begins to create identity performances to replace the deficient ones that have taken hold in Corinth. (2:1–5) Paul’s Hierarchical Leadership and Proclamation As a hierarchical leader (Reicher, Haslam, and Platow, 157–58), Paul claims priority when it comes to defining the Christ-group’s identity. Drawing on the resources of social memory, he writes: “When I came to you, brothers and sisters” (2:1a). This activates their identity narrative and brings to the fore their kinship identity; they are part of God’s family. His version of “who we are” differs from Roman imperial identity (Cicero, Pro Balbo, 6, 39) as he will highlight in 2:6–9. This is important since social identities are tied to cultural and historical phenomena. He reminds the group of the way he proclaimed the gospel among them. He did not rely on “plausible” or “lofty words or wisdom,” he only proclaimed “Jesus Christ, and him crucified,” and came to them “in weakness and in fear” but also “with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power” (2:1b–4). This suggests Paul was aware of something in the Corinthian context that originally called for such an identity performance, but outgroups and contexts change. This led to the group now favoring the inverse of these values. Paul does not wait for the group to begin to see him as prototypical; he actively defines the situation so that he will be representative of the group again. He summarizes this by reminding them what he did was in the group’s interest: “so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God” (2:5). The inference here being your new identity narrative and the leaders associated with that are not working for your interests. (2:6–9) Paul’s Identification of the Roman Outgroup The new identity narrative relates too closely to the use of history evident in Roman imperial propaganda. Paul selects a number of events in these verses to represent the idea that identifying with local Roman collaborators works against their identity as those who belong to Christ. Why? Because “the rulers of this age” were complicit in crucifying “the Lord of glory” (2:6, 8). The Romans have a collective cognitive deficiency when it comes to “God’s wisdom” since theirs relies on “wisdom of this age,” which leads to their doom (2:6b–7). In contrast, the message Paul promotes “among the mature” is otherwise “secret and hidden, which God decreed before the ages for our glory” (2:7). The enthymematic argument here is that those leaders who are too emblematic of key aspects of Roman social identity do not have access to the content that describes the group’s true identity. Hierarchical leaders often rely on an ability to essentialize aspects of group life that “continues unchanging across time and outside of history” (Reicher et al., 77). Paul does something similar here by highlighting God’s decree and then giving the group a future orientation to their narrative: “no eye has seen . . . what God has prepared for those who love him” (2:9; cf. Isa 64:3 LXX; 65:16).

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(2:10–16) The Agency of the Spirit in Group Categorizations Paul continues to establish his version of the group’s identity as the authentic one: “these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit” (2:10). The agency of the Spirit is needed in order to discern properly between the alternative visions of identity evident among the group (2:11). Some in Corinth are minimizing a cognitive deficiency that comes from their reliance on “the spirit of the world.” The Christ-group requires the Spirit’s agency to “understand the gifts bestowed on us from God” (2:12). Paul is not just promoting himself as the ingroup prototype, he is promoting Spirit-directed practices that will help the group better realize their shared interests. Of course the implicit critique is that these rival leaders are not working on behalf of the group. Ultimately, social identity approaches to leadership remind us that leaders really are only interpreters of who we are. In 2:13, Paul continues to legitimate his cognitive alternatives through the agency of the “Spirit” who assists in “interpreting spiritual things to those who are spiritual.” The group needs a renewed set of practices in regard to evaluating spiritual matters, their existing approach draws too much from “those who are unspiritual” the ones incapable of understanding those things that are to be “spiritually discerned” (2:14). Paul has established a consonance between the Christ-group and himself as an instantiation of their shared values: “Those who are spiritual discern all things” (2:15a). He empowers the group to resist the “scrutiny” of those who would disagree with Paul’s version of the in-Christ identity (2:15b). Finally, since he knows that long-term group stability will involve factors that constantly change, his vision of “who we are” provides them with the cognitive resources to stay within his vision: “But we have the mind of Christ” (2:16). The mind of Christ, in the context of 1 Cor 1–4, is that which “provides the vital decision making link for negotiating the identity-forming factors of wisdom and power” (Tucker, Belong, 204). (3:1–4) Re-constructing the Group’s Identity Narrative In 3:1, Paul continues to assert his position as the ingroup prototype by constructing the Corinthians’ identity narrative. He reminds them that when he was with them, he was unable to “speak” to the group “as spiritual people,” instead he categorizes them “as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ.” Paul had to “feed” them “milk,” the problem is they currently “are still not ready for solid food” (3:2). The evidence of this is the presence of “jealousy and quarreling” within the group, which Paul categorizes as an indication that these individuals are “behaving according to human inclinations” (3:3). He reminds them of the exact nature of problem: some within the Christ-group say, “I belong to Paul” while others say “I belong to Apollos” (3:4). The act of identification, in this case seeing oneself as belonging to an individual leader rather than to Christ (3:23), is the start of the group process that reduced the salience of their in-Christ social identity. The Corinthians identify with one of these two leadership-based categories and then they seek to conform to the norms and interpretations that characterize that category. This also means they will likely be more influenced by those that embody those subgroup norms, thus reducing their superordinate identity. Paul’s social creativity throughout the rest of the letter seeks to correct this. (3:5–17) Ingroup Narratives and Leadership Deviance Another identity narrative had taken hold among some in Corinth, so Paul retells their founding narrative as a way to remind them of the way he and Apollos better represent the group’s identity than those who are making a similar claim, though they should not in turn reify them. Paul and Apollos are “servants,” to whom were given different assignments; however, both of them are subservient to “God who gives the

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growth” (3:5–7). Thus, Paul and Apollos are really one of them and further they labored with a “common purpose,” that is, what they did was for the group’s benefit (3:8). Even though the “we” and “you” pronouns seem to create distance between the leaders and the followers, Paul reminds them he and Apollos are “working together” as “God’s servants.” This reduces their profile and then elevates the profile of the group, “you are God’s field, God’s building, [and] God’s temple” (3:9, 16). Barentsen notices this and rightly concludes these images result in “upgrading the value of their superordinate social identity as a unified community consisting of all subgroups” (94). Subgroup salience will be crucial to Paul’s later arguments but here he brings to the fore the importance of their shared common identity. In 3:10, Paul reminds the Corinthians that he “laid a foundation” for the existence of this shared identity, but even in this retelling of their identity narrative, he points out to them that this only happened because of “the grace of God given to me.” Grace is a term that functions within the patronage context. Commentators are right to conclude that part of the problem in Corinth was that a small group of high-status individuals were functioning as patrons of the community. This is a problem for Paul, who sees God as the only patron for the ekklēsia, if there is an elevated role for someone like Paul, it would be as a broker, a go-between, not as a patron—for that is reserved for God alone (3:9–10, 16, 22–23). The group belongs to God, not to a small group of high-status leaders who have, from Paul’s perspective, deviated from the previously established ingroup norms, that is, no longer recognizing that the group’s “foundation is Jesus Christ” (3:11). Social identity approaches highlight the way group prototypes are malleable and highly contextually sensitive. These new leaders had come to represent the group in Paul’s absence and it is likely that some of the Corinthians would have resisted his assessment of these leaders as non-prototypical, since that would imply a critique of the group’s positive social identity. To overcome this assessment, Paul draws on the temporal aspects of social identity. He says that the quality of the worker’s product “will become visible, for the Day will disclose it” (3:13; 1:7–8; 5:5). These leaders had innovated in Paul’s absence but in ways that he thinks transgressed previously established group boundaries, some evidently saw this as a positive development, one that served the group’s interests. However, Paul disagrees. He thinks “fire” will judge the “work each has done,” and those whose work is found to survive this fire “will receive a reward” (3:14). These transgressive leaders’ work will be “burned up” but they “will be saved” (3:15). The Corinthian Christ-group, in a desire to maintain their existing social identity, allowed certain leaders to behave in nonnormative ways which resulted in divisions within the ekklēsia (3:3). Paul rewrites their identity narrative to reduce their tolerance of deviant ingroup leaders. (3:18–23) Rewriting Identity Narratives about Leadership Social identity approaches to leadership highlight the fact that leaders survive to the extent that they embody the group’s norms. In Corinth, a small group of rival leaders have become valued because they are seen as prototypical. Even though they deviate from Paul’s original vision for communal life, the ingroup conferred on them the right to depart from Paul and establish new norms. Paul rewrites the group’s identity narrative by reminding them they are “God’s temple” and as a group “God’s Spirit” indwells them (3:16–17). Lim sees in the temple metaphor the cognitive, emotional, and evaluative dimensions of the group. As to the cognitive aspect, the temple serves as a “unifying symbol”; as to the emotive, it functions as a warning concerning “destruction and desecration”; 299

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and finally concerning the evaluative dimension, this imagery highlights “purity and holiness” (Lim, 147–57). This superordinate identity works against the identity narrative inscribed by the rival leaders that relied too much on belonging to a group associated with “this age” (3:18). Paul does not want the Corinthians to be deceived any longer, so he establishes an ingroup and outgroup comparison. The problem is not just the rival leaders but the group itself, since those leaders were seen to embody the shared ingroup prototype. Paul’s rhetoric is working against both issues and this dual concern leads him to state again his general principle: “the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God” (3:19a). He demonstrates his claim that the world’s wisdom is under the judgment of God by referencing Job 5:13 and Ps 93:11 LXX. So, Paul wants the Corinthians to recommit their way to God, since God sees their current social categorizations as “futile” (3:19b–20). He seeks to reorient the Christ-group’s perspective in regard to the relationship between leaders and followers. They do not belong to these rival leaders; rather, the group’s leaders belong to them. This reorientation requires a rewriting of the group’s identity narrative, since problems with their group norms created the conditions for these deviant leaders to arise in the first place. He introduces the way this resocialization is going to occur by highlighting three levels of abstraction. First, they should stop boasting “about human leaders” (3:21a). Second, they should recognize that all things “belong” to them (3:22). Third, they must remember that they “belong to Christ” (3:23a). Notice the progression of inclusiveness associated with each statement, the final category, “you belong to Christ” is defined at the highest level of abstraction and thus functions as the most inclusive one in the chain. Group behavior develops through the process of self-stereotyping; if the Christ-group starts again to see who the group ultimately belongs to, it will cause them to move the transgressive leaders to the periphery and reinsert Christ and Paul as ingroup prototypes, with all ultimately belonging to “God” (3:23b; 4:16; 11:1). Socially identifying with a leader is not a problem per se, it is the relative identification in relation to Christ that is crucial for Paul’s social creativity. Paul and Apollos understand that, the Corinthians and the small group of rival leaders do not. (4:1–5) Defining a Leader’s Identity A shared social identification is necessary and forms the basis for shared action. Leaders are able to define the group’s identity and thus increase the likelihood of mobilizing them. Leaders actively construe consonance between the group’s identity and their own identity. Notice the way Paul does something similar in 4:1–2. He is construing the group’s perspective by writing, “Think of us in this way.” Paul’s preferred identity profile is that of a servant or steward, as such they should not see leaders, or evaluate them, in ways similar to those outside the Christ-movement (Matt 20:25). It seems his primary focus here is on leader trustworthiness, that is, to whom is the servant or steward accountable—it is to their masters alone. It seems rival leaders have mobilized some within the Christ-group in ways that resulted in a poor evaluation of Paul’s leadership. If Paul is going to mobilize the congregation in favor of the instructions he plans to give in this letter, he must define the nature of his leadership position. There is a certain degree of asymmetry in Paul’s relationship to the Corinthians, so he capitalizes on this and says “it is a very small thing” if they assess him negatively since ultimately “it is the Lord who judges me” (4:3–4). He is not confident in their ability to categorize accurately actions taken by leaders, a cognitive deficiency he shares with them since he too does not trust his own self-categorizations 300

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(4:4). This sets Paul as “one of us,” those wrestling with the social implications of the gospel. Therefore, he refocuses their temporal horizon and suggests it is better to avoid premature or illinformed assessments since when “the Lord comes . . . all things” will be revealed (4:5). (4:6–13) Paul Acts for the Group in Extraordinary Ways Being “one of us” is not enough for social influence to occur, the leader must also be seen as “acting for us.” Paul begins to do this when he writes the content he introduced from 3:5–4:5 was “for your benefit” (4:6). The suggestion here is that these late emerging leaders are acting in their own interests: Paul and Apollos are not. He makes a statement that interpreters struggle with: “Nothing beyond what is written.” It is not clear what this refers to, but voluntary associations often established community rules that organized life within the association and Paul may be reminding them of these. Regardless, Paul highlights the actual problem: it is cultural boasting that has contributed to a lack of thankfulness for God’s “gift” (4:7). This section contains significant patronage language and suggests that some were drawing from this Roman ordering principle as their preferred way to organize communal life. However, the social reciprocity and exploitation inherent in this system were problematic for Paul. Their collective realization seems to be the underlying problem; these rival leaders were claiming to be acting in the ingroup’s interest but the norms that emerged were problematic and illusory (4:8). Paul needs to rebuild the groups’ norms and values; rather than domineering patronal leaders, “apostles” are seen as convicted criminals—those the Romans would place last in a procession (4:9). This begins an identity-forming antithesis in 4:11–13, one that highlights the social implications of the gospel, in contrast to the self-sufficiency seen in the earlier verses (cf. 4:10; 1:18–28). As the letter develops, a small high-status subgroup will be the focus of Paul’s social creativity; 4:12 with its reference to growing “weary from the work of our own hands” suggests this subgroup may have internalized derisive attitudes toward manual labor. Of course, the affliction catalog in these verses also reconnects Paul with the larger Christ-group, the majority of who would have been living at the subsistence level. However, Paul is not just typical of the group. That is not enough for social influence to emerge. Even in his sufferings he is extraordinary: “We have become like the rubbish of the world, the dregs of all things, to this very day” (4:13). (4:14–21) Paul is the Ingroup Prototype to Lead the Group If these rival leaders were drawing on patronal ordering principles, then they would also rely on the cultural scripts associated with honor and shame since these worked together to structure social relations. Paul assures them he is “not writing to make” them “ashamed.” He then offers his cognitive alternative; rather than domineering Roman patrons, he leads as a Jewish father who views the Christ-group as his “beloved children” (4:14). Roman filial piety has no place among Christ-movement leaders; its leaders resist domineering violence, a key value for Luke’s portrayal of Paul’s social creativity (Kuecker, 230–31). The rival leaders have not actually delivered for the group; Paul was the one who birthed them (4:15–17). This re-inscribes him as “one of us,” which allows him to say, “Be imitators of me” (4:16). He represents the Christ-groups’ values in ways other “guardians” cannot; but he is not in Corinth so he plans to send “Timothy,” as an identity mediator, “to remind you of my ways in Christ Jesus,” that is, his halakah. His theologizing extends beyond Corinth; it is present among other Christ-groups around the Mediterranean littoral (4:17). This hints at a trans-local identity that will be important in 7:17 and 16:5–9, 19–20.

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In 4:18, Paul highlights those who have “become arrogant,” assuming that Paul’s absence indicates he is not really “acting for us.” He downplays this small leadership group’s prototypicality, they only have “talk” but lack “power” (4:19). That means they cannot deliver for the group, since “the kingdom of God depends not on talk but on power” (4:20). Paul gives the subgroup contesting his construal a choice, he can come with a “stick” (Prov 22:15), or “with love [and] gentleness”—you decide. Paul has made it clear, he is of the group, for the group, and can deliver on the group’s behalf. These rival leaders cannot. Paul is to be seen as the ingroup prototype; they are not. Thus, only he can show them what the correct actions arise from a salient in-Christ social identity.

The Embodiment of New Identity Performances (5:1–11:1) (5:1–13) Comparative Fit and the Immoral Brother A small subgroup of high-status Christfollowers needed to restructure their social relationships in a way that their perceptions of ingroup and outgroup members are informed primarily by who they are in-Christ. In the case of the “man living with his father’s wife,” this group had thought it better to maintain respect for existing, external sociopolitical relations, than to recognize the affront this ongoing action was to their intragroup identity (5:1–2). This is a good example of a problem of comparative fit, as Barentsen notes, “since intergroup competition is valued more highly as an aspect of group identity than moral purity” (81). Paul labels the “man” a deviant and tells the Christ-group when they are “assembled to hand this man over to Satan” (5:3–5). This effectively expels the man from the Christ-group and restores the holiness of the community. It also introduces a ritual that can function to regulate unacceptable levels of ingroup heterogeneity, once proper “judging” of those “inside” has occurred (5:12). For Paul, an underlying problem that has allowed this situation to continue is arrogance (5:2, 6). Cultural boasting is one area throughout the letter that requires transformation in-Christ (4:18). He makes his cognitive alternative clear by connecting his expected action, “Clean out the old yeast” with “Christ, our paschal lamb [who] has been sacrificed” (5:7). This rewrites a portion of their identity narrative (Barentsen, 96). However, Paul is doing something more than a figural reading in his use of Passover imagery. He seems to expect these in-Christ gentiles to participate in an actual Passover “festival” (5:8). This should not be a surprise since he also organizes the community’s time around “Pentecost” (16:8). Israel’s ritual life continues to be relevant within the Christ-movement; here he is creating ritual life for non-Jews to relate to the God of Israel as non-Jews, in ways that set them apart from the nations and their identity narrative (7:17–24; 11:23–32). Crosscutting identities continually seem to be problematic in the formation of gentile identity in-Christ. One approach that was practiced in Corinth was total separation. Paul was no sectarian, and so it was a misapplication of this teaching to disassociate from “the immoral of this world” (5:9–10). Existing subgroup identities continue to matter since they are the primary way to extend the Pauline mission among the nations. This approach can be described as mission as social identification. However, another subgroup in Corinth seems to have misinterpreted Paul’s instruction and understood it as mission as social integration. For Paul, that is too far since it

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involves jeopardizing the holiness of the community: “Your bodies belong to the Lord” (6:15). So, Paul clarifies his concern by increasing perceiver readiness: “[Do] not associate with a brother or sister who is sexually immoral or greedy, or is an idolater, reviler, drunkard, or robber. Do not even eat with such a one” (5:11). An overemphasis on outgroup difference, had caused some of the Corinthians to downplay sinful intragroup patterns. So, Paul structures their reality in a way that brings to the fore their lack of ingroup categorization while reminding them that “God will judge those outside,” but the “assembled” Christ-group must “drive out the wicked person from among you” (5:12). Paul thus reprioritizes the group’s civic identity lower in their identity hierarchy and elevates their in-Christ identity salience by making the group aware of the specific way their social reality needs to be restructured. (6:1–11) Crosscutting, Comparative Fit, and Ingroup Violations Paul addresses the problem of some within the Christ-group taking other members within the group to court to settle their disputes (6:1). This represents another problem of crosscutting identities and comparative fit. The Roman law courts were not equally accessible to all people, so it is likely we are dealing with a small, high-status subgroup, likely comprising landowners, for which taking disputes to a local magistrate was an option. These provincial courts were known to be untrustworthy and biased in the application of justice, though the Romans themselves like to claim they had brought a new standard of law to the world (Virgil, Aeneid, 1.286–96). The social status of the individuals involved often determined the outcome rather than the facts of the case. In the Corinthian Christgroup, these high-status individuals had determined that no one in the group was “wise enough to decide between one believer and another,” an indication that their civic identity was functioning apart from their identity in-Christ (6:5–6). In order address this ingroup violation, Paul draws a stark contrast between those inside and outside of the group. Paul’s rewriting of their identity narrative uses language of the outsider quite often in these verses (“unrighteous” [6:1]; “world” [6:2]; “those who have no standing within the church” [6:4]; “unbelievers” [6:6]; “wrongdoers” [6:9]; and the vice list in 6:9–10). While at the same time, he uses terms to re-inscribe those who are on the inside (“saints” [6:1–2]; “believer” [6:5–6]; “washed,” “sanctified,” and “justified” [6:11]). Paul needs this small highstatus subgroup to see that there are major differences between those they are going to for justice and those within the Christ-group who are more than capable to rule on these cases, especially since “the saints will judge the world” (6:2). This subgroup continues to think too highly of those outside the movement, so Paul appeals to their shared new status in-Christ as way to encourage them to a new course of action (6:11). Christ-followers taking each other to local magistrates indicates a severe ingroup violation, “a defeat” (6:7a). This type of treatment is counter-normative and one Paul, and the rest of the larger part of the group, disapproves. He thinks that a better approach would even be to allow oneself to be “wronged” or “defrauded” but instead their actions result in them defrauding and wronging “believers” (6:7b–8). The problem with this high-status subgroup is they are functioning with the wrong reference group in view. They were not allowing their membership in the ekklēsia to contribute to their social identity. The comparative fit for those in-Christ must be first with other “believers” and not with their privileged peer group outside the Christ-movement (so similarly Barentsen, 96). He reinforces this by highlighting a possible future social identity for the “saints” as those who will “judge the world” and “angels” but contrasts this with their peer 303

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group, “wrongdoers [who] will not inherit the kingdom of God” (6:2, 3, 9). This shifts their temporal focus and provides a new awareness for the type of social change Paul envisions among those who have begun to experience new life “in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God” (6:11). (6:12–20) Embodiment Patterns and Resurrection Identity Paul addresses a third issue of crosscutting identities and comparative fit as it relates to patterns of embodiment. It seems this high-status subgroup had difficulties related to accessibility of their in-Christ identity in several areas associated with their pre-conversion patterns of life. This may be because they had not internalized the social implications of the gospel and thus in various civic and social contexts did not allow the in-Christ superordinate category to activate. Their slogans indicate such a misapprehension, so Paul restates them and offers an alternative way of thinking about their embodiment, ultimately summarizing his point: “The body is meant . . . for the Lord” (6:12–13). Paul connects their current embodiment with their future identity as a resurrected body, that reality should impact the conversion of their bodily practices now (6:14; see further 15:20–34). They are also to resist “fornication” (porneia) since their “body is a temple of the Holy Spirit” and they are ultimately directed to “glorify God in [their] body” (6:19, 20). Embodiment is not an indifferent thing for Paul, those in-Christ must not engage in porneia since their body belongs to the Lord. O’Reilly concludes, “The unarticulated assumption seems to be that the present body is significant because it stands in continuity with the resurrected body in the future” (101). The crosscutting and comparative fit issues emerge in 6:15, where Paul highlights two mutually exclusive options: membership with “Christ” or membership with “a prostitute.” This suggests a cognitive deficiency on the small subgroup’s part since they should have known this, and by extension should not have engaged in such an identity performance, one that jeopardizes their identity as a future resurrected body: union with a prostitute is not commensurate with union with Christ (6:16–17). Thus, Paul’s cognitive alternative is to “shun fornication” (6:18a). They have misunderstood the nature of the offense and so he makes a distinction between sins “outside the body” and ones “against the body” (6:18). While commentators debate the exact interpretation of these phrases, the implication is one of ownership and for Paul, the Lord owns the body: “you are not your own,” “you were bought with a price” (6:19, 20). Engaging in porneia rejects the Lord’s claim over the body, so Paul’s imperative is “glorify God in your body” (16:20). You belong to a group whose bodies belong to God, so cease prostitute-unions since they reduce in-Christ category salience, and instead align your bodily practices with Paul’s vision for the group’s future as resurrected bodies (15:12–20). (7:1–16) Crosscutting Identities and Marriage Marriage is a crosscutting identity, one that was creating problems within the Christ-group in Corinth, since they had written him about it. “Now concerning” (peri de; 7:1, 25; 8:1; 12:1; 16:1, 12), in 1 Corinthians, is a phrase that commentators point to as a structural marker indicating questions they had raised for Paul. Paul’s rule in regard to existing subgroup identities, such as marriage, is that they are to continue in-Christ (7:17– 24). Challenges emerge when there are problems of fit. How should the experience of being in-Christ influence socially embedded identities such as marriage? For Paul, when there is a conflict the superordinate identity must win out; however, there were some who had taken this too far and so Paul offers a series of correctives (7:2–7). He sees marriage as a way to avoid “sexual

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immorality,” so each one should have a spouse, a relationship that involves “conjugal rights” (7:2–3). To support this claim, he highlights the interdependence of the partners and suggests that the normative sexual relations are to be expected, except in times where they agree to “devote” themselves “to prayer” (7:4–5). Paul is not an ingroup prototype when it comes to marriage, since he is not married; thus, he presents his case as a “concession” and then says he wishes that they were single like him (7:6–7). Even in regard to this crosscutting identity dilemma, he recognizes the diversity of gifts from God and expects different patterns of life will emerge from each “particular gift” (7:7). In 7:8–9, Paul turns his attention to other subgroups, “the unmarried” and “the widows” (7:8). Paul can speak as an ingroup prototype to these individuals. They are to “remain unmarried” like Paul. He does offer, however, an exception to his rule. If these subgroup members cannot practice “self-control,” then they should be “married.” This at least increases in-Christ identity salience in contrast to living a pattern of life “aflame with passion” (7:9). It should also be noted that “widows” here functions as a socially constructed secondary gender identity embedded within the existing primary female identity (see 1 Tim 5:3–16). Paul next turns to social situations in which subgroup identity transfers are being considered in regards to divorce (7:10–16). Existing marriages in which one partner is not a Christ-follower are particularly difficult. Paul thinks that marriage should be permanent but that divorces may occur (7:10, 15). The crucial crosscutting identity question is: Can the Christ-follower remarry? He highlights the way that the Christ-follower can have a positive impact on the “unbelieving” spouse, suggesting a prosocial reason for remaining in that situation (7:14). However, if the “unbelieving partner separates,” the person in-Christ “is not bound” (7:15). This suggests remarriage is acceptable for Paul, though 7:11 suggests this statement should be qualified since it suggests remaining “unmarried” in hope of reconciliation. The different instruction here may relate to dissimilar circumstances (cf. Matt 5:32; 19:9). The instructions in 7:11 may reflect an illegitimate divorce, in which case Paul discourages remarriage; while 7:15 describes an alternative scenario, one in which remarriage may be considered. Ultimately, Paul’s marriage halakah moves in the direction of remaining in the marriage with an unbeliever since the spouse’s social influence can have a saving affect (7:16). Paul’s social creativity here is reordering the options available to Christ-movement members, since existing subgroup identities are crucial for their mission in Corinth. In light of that, Paul offers his rule in which existing identities are not an indifferent thing but are a matter of calling. (7:17–24) Subgroup Identity Salience as Paul’s Rule Being in-Christ is one way to describe a superordinate identity that has room for subgroup identity salience. Paul, in 7:17, indicates there is a pattern of “life” that comes from the “Lord,” one related to God’s call. This cognitive alternative to local expressions of Roman identity is described as Paul’s “rule in all the churches” (7:17). Being in-Christ is the type of identity that is capable of holding diverse people groups together in ways Roman imperial propaganda claimed but was ultimately unable to produce. All ethnic identities are capable of being included in this identity: Judean and non-Judean (7:17–18). Because of the presence of sin, transformation may be needed and identity indexes will often be reprioritized since what matters is “obeying the commandments of God” (7:19). However, no existing social identity situation can hinder individuals responding to God’s call; thus, Paul’s repeated exhortation is “remain in the condition in which you were called” (7:20, 24). He also 305

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recognizes situations in which identity transfer is appropriate. If one is a slave, that person can still respond to God’s call in that condition, but it is acceptable to become manumitted (7:21). Paul’s rule does not baptize the status quo. He also recategorizes Christ-group members who are free; those members are now to think of themselves as “a slave of Christ” (7:23). He reminds them they were “bought with a price,” and now they are members of God’s family, a new social self-defining category that organizes their continuing subgroup identities. One implication of Paul’s rule here will be seen in 9:19–23; however, it would be worth asking: Would Paul follow his own rule? In Phil 3:5, he is clear that he was circumcised and if his rule that this identity continues within the Christ-movement (7:17), then we can assume that he continues to live a Torah-observant life even in his mission to the nations. Paul does not have a problem with Judaism that needs fixing. He was convinced that Israel’s restoration had begun with the arrival of Messiah Jesus and that salvation is now open to the gentiles as gentiles. No identity transfer from Israel to the “church” emerges from Paul. It does emerge later in the second and third century, when writers such as Justin Martyr and Tertullian start to make such claims, but those ideas are foreign to Paul. Not only do subgroup identities maintain their salience; Israel’s covenantal identity does as well. (7:25–40) Uncertainty Reduction amid Differing Life Patterns Paul begins, “Now concerning virgins”—a topic about which the Corinthians had written. He is not aware of anything from the Jesus tradition addressing it, so he offers his “opinion” as one who is “trustworthy” (7:25). While it is possible he refers to both genders here, it is more likely he is focusing on females. For Paul, the social category “female” is a primary gender identity but he also recognizes socially constructed gender-based identities, such as virgins and widows. Paul’s principle, as earlier, is, “remain as you are.” The basis for this is “in view of the impending crisis” (7:26). Social identity approaches highlight the idea that people join groups in order to reduce uncertainty. It seems this motivation may have been present among the Christ-group. Often it is suggested that this refers to a famine that occurred around 51 CE in Corinth, a circumstance Paul fills in with apocalyptic content, “the appointed time has grown short” (7:29). So, while Paul’s principle is to “remain in the current state,” those who go against it by getting married have not sinned (7:27– 28). Uncertainty increases when members of the same group disagree over patterns of life with those they otherwise see as similar. In this reconstruction, some of the Corinthians had joined the Christ-group to reduce uncertainty, but once in the group differences over marriage arose and uncertainty increased. Much of what Paul has done in chapters 5–7 has been to provide coherence to a group in the midst of social upheaval. Paul’s solution for uncertainty reduction, being “free from anxieties,” is to call for a certain level of detachment from the context, “since the present form of this world is passing away.” He does this through the “as though” statements that are designed to provide the ingroup a renewed social comparative context with similar others who at the same time will embody different life patterns in marriage, death, human flourishing, business, and political involvements (7:29b–32). After offering the way crosscutting social identities might interfere with one’s “devotion to the Lord,” it seems Paul thinks the more useful life is one not entangled in the details of the Roman household (7:33–35). He is likely challenging those who has sought to redefine the ingroup prototype in their preference for one pattern of life over another, but for Paul different life patterns are expected as an implication of the gospel (7:36–40). 306

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(8:1–13) Eating Idol Food and Shared Social Categorizations The Christ-group in Corinth continues to wrestle with the social implications of the gospel, in 8:1, we see another “now concerning,” indicating a question they have raised with Paul: What about “food sacrificed to idols”? One of their slogans is restated: “All of us possess knowledge.” This suggests that at least one subgroup has become convinced they have a proper awareness in regard to the cognitive alternatives involved in this social dilemma. Paul’s anticipated restructuring shifts their awareness: “Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up” (8:1b). The overemphasis on “knowledge” has reduced the salience of their shared social identity; they have divided into “knower” and “not-knower” subgroups. Paul highlights the contingent nature of their current “knowledge” and brings to the fore the importance of being a person who “loves God and is known by him” (8:2–3). However, Paul does not reject the “knower” subgroup’s claim. They are correct; there is only “one God” and these provincial deities have no ontic existence (8:4–5). This positions Paul as an artist of identity within the “knower” subgroup, which is necessary for effective leadership. He offers an alternative to their cosmological claim and seeks to make their abstract claim more concrete. The spiritual realm is full of many “so-called gods . . . and many lords—yet for us there is one God, the Father . . . and one Lord, Jesus Christ”; an insight “not everyone” understands (8:6–7a). The Binitarian logic and the centrality of the creator God of Israel combine to reframe the “knower” subgroup’s knowledge. Jesus shares in the identity of the God of Israel and this provides access to a different set of cognitive alternatives than are available to others—or at least should. Paul introduces the way identification with Christ functions as an ingroup prototype for behaving in a way that is others oriented, in this case, acting differently toward those in the “not-knower” subgroup for whom “eat[ing] . . . food offered to an idol” implicates them in idolatry because of their “weak conscience” (8:7b). Christ gave up his position in heaven and became incarnate for others (Phil 2:7), and those in the “knower” group should follow his example (11:1), and give up exclusive-knowledge-based patterns of living because of their shared social categorization as “family-believers,” with those still struggling with past associations with idols (8:11–12). Shared social categorization is the basis for negotiating this social dilemma. Paul negotiates this again by citing their slogan, “Food will not bring us close to God,” a saying that seems to indicate it is an indifferent thing but Paul thinks it can actually become “a stumbling block to the weak” (8:8–9). Paul describes the status quo in regards to “eating in the temple of an idol,” and then shows the way it might cause those whose “conscience is weak” to do the same thing, but in their case it might cause them to be “destroyed” (8:10–11). The “knower” subgroup’s behavior is not just a personal ethical choice; it is one that can deform the community. Paul then revisits the earlier Christological-prototypical framework and suggests their deviant behavior is actually a “sin against Christ” (8:12). Paul’s engineering is now clear: “if food” is the issue he “will never eat meat” since he does not want to “cause one of them to fall” (8:13). He puts himself forward as one who is thus willing and likely to offer support for the “not-knower” subgroup. Social identity leadership approaches suggest that a shared self-categorization that is evident in statements like those in 8:12–13 are likely to result in a positive experience of support. For Paul, the vision here is to be willing to relinquish rights for those weaker members of the Christ-group, a vision he details in ch. 9. (9:1–18) Paul Repositioned as the Ingroup Prototype The renunciation of all rights for the sake of the gospel is Paul’s primary focus in 9:1–27. From a social identity approach perspective, Paul

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thinks the “knower” subgroup from 8:1–13 needs to embody their in-Christ social identity in a way that is consistent with him and with Christ as ingroup prototypes. He will end with this in 11:1 but here he outlines a characteristic, relinquishing a right, as an example of surrendering one’s freedom in-Christ for the benefit of the weaker members of the group. To do this, Paul begins in 9:1 by using four rhetorical questions designed to reposition himself as a member of the “knower” subgroup but one whose identity performance reminds the other subgroup members of his position as their leader. He is an “apostle”; he has “seen Jesus our Lord”; and the Corinthians are his “work in the Lord.” Thus he has certain rights that he could claim, since they are “the seal” of his “apostleship in the Lord” (9:2). The last phrase, “in the Lord,” sets up the condition of positive distinctiveness since this group membership is valued more highly than the currently self-valued dimension in view when one claims their rights to the detriment of other Christ-group members. The relative status of the positive ingroup, those belonging to Christ, is central to Paul’s identity project (3:23). In 9:3–18, Paul repositions himself as the ingroup prototype for this small “knower” subgroup, a group that includes members who have assessed him negatively (9:3). While it is not clear what the indicators were, it seems Paul’s lack of financial support by the Corinthians was part of it. He takes the opportunity to use this as an illustration of the way a “right” has been foregone for others. Paul reminds them that other leaders have claimed the right for compensation in their mission and thus it would not be wrong for him or “Barnabas” to do the same (9:4–6). He then draws together several illustrations, as authorizing discourses, to reinforce his point: he would have a right to claim material support if he were so inclined (9:7–14). However, Paul reminds them: “I have made no use of any of these rights,” and he does not intend to do so now (9:15). He concludes his argument by reminding the “knower” subgroup that he has an “obligation” to “proclaim the gospel” but he does it “free of charge” and in that way he serves as an example of an ingroup prototype that does not claim his “rights in the gospel” (9:16–18). Why has Paul taken so much time here? Social identity is a determinant in information processing and messages delivered by prototypical ingroup members are less likely to be opposed. Paul has become aprototypical and his extended argument here is designed to reposition himself within the ingroup—otherwise it is unlikely his rhetoric in regards to idol food will be persuasive. Shared group membership provides the basis for shared meaning. In 9:1–17, Paul repositions himself as the leader of the “knower” subgroup by reminding them of his connection with them and the alternative ways in which he embodied his mission among them. If that renewed sense of “us-ness” redevelops, then new self-categorizations will be required—ones based on the social implications of the gospel as Paul understands them. This may require a recategorization of their views on finances, leadership, work, and other patterns of embodiment. (9:19–23) Gospel-Oriented Self-Categorizations Paul continues to put himself forward as the ingroup prototype. He wants the group to embody their gospel-oriented identity in a way that follows his pattern—that is, do not focus on personal rights; rather, become “a slave to all” in order to “win” others for the gospel (9:19). Paul points to those various situations where he relates to diaspora Jews when he writes, “To the Jews I became as a Jew” (9:20a). This does not indicate that he had stopped identifying as with his ancestral traditions. The next subgroup, “those under the law” (9:20b), refers to a different group than the first—that is, those following a more strict halakah. Paul can reach this group because of his existing social identity (Phil 3:5), 308

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even though he no longer follows their strict interpretations. The next subgroup, “those outside the law” (9:21), refers broadly to the gentiles (Gal 2:15). When seeking to fulfill Israel’s vocation, as a light to the nations, among this group, he follows a loose halakah, described as “Christ’s law,”—the Mosaic Torah taken up into the hands of the Messiah (Rudolph, 165). Paul socially identifies with gentiles, while himself remaining Torah observant. He follows the pattern of Jesus who shared table fellowship with sinners (Mark 2:13–17), in order to “win those outside the law” (cf. Matt 23:15; Phil 3:8). Paul adjusts his identity performances in light of his mission, he even does this for “the weak” (9:22), here referring to the “not-knower” subgroup struggling with idol food. This suggests Paul’s gospel is not only about “conversion” but includes ongoing aspects of identity formation. He “become[s] all things to all people,” a good description of mission as social identification, in order to “save some” (9:22). As the ingroup prototype, they should follow his lead and adjust to their self-categorization, “for the sake of the gospel” (9:23). This is the imitation he has in mind in 11:1. (9:24–27) Voluntary Restraint as a Group Norm Paul recognizes that the “knower” subgroup, with their orientation toward Corinthian civic identity, are likely to reject his cognitive alternative. He thus draws on existing cultural scripts to show the way his alternative actually aligns with the voluntary restraint, or “self-control,” that “athletes” embody to win “the prize” (9:24–25). The Isthmian games were held in Corinth and so the imagery of runners, boxers, and the “wreath” given to the victors would have had particular resonance with this subgroup (9:26). They were aware of the type of training these athletes engaged in to succeed; if they are going to internalize the type of group-based self-definition Paul has in mind, it is going to require a similar effort. If they are still disinclined to adjust their social identification, Paul warns them that even he could potentially be “disqualified” if he does not embody the pattern of life he describes for them (9:27). The implication here is how much more should the “knower” subgroup work to embody the group norm of voluntary restraint of their rights for others, since even their apostle and prototype could fail if he did not bring his “body” under control. (10:1–13) Avoiding the Veneration of Provincial Deities Some social identity approaches elevate the role that language plays in the construction of social categories. This diffuses some of the critiques of SIT and SCT in regard to rigid ingroup and outgroup classifications that often do not reflect group members’ everyday lived experience. People use narratives to make sense of the world, and here Paul does something similar: “I do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, that our ancestors were all under the cloud” (10:1; alluding to Exod 13:21; 14:19–20). He writes the gentiles in Corinth into the story of historic Israel as a way to develop their social identity in regards to food offered to idols. The pronoun “our” is often thought to mean that these in-Christ gentiles have now taken over the covenantal identity of historic Israel and formed the “Israel of God” (Gal 6:16). The referent in Galatians is more likely to in-Messiah Jews, since Paul never explicitly calls in-Christ gentiles Israelites. Gentiles continue to be gentiles, even as they are now part of the “commonwealth of Israel” (Eph 2:12), without becoming Jews or Israelites. Identity narratives create group solidarity and legitimize views of the world. Paul’s identity narrative draws from “Moses” as an exemplar for the group (10:2). He becomes a new founding father for these Roman Corinthians, some of who may have continued to see Aeneas as their identification focal point, especially in light of the problems with civic identity highlighted earlier

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(2:6–9). Paul chose Moses instead of Abraham because Moses’s foundational narrative was within the context of the Egyptian empire in which he also established an alternative community. Paul has identified the Corinthian Christ-followers in the narrative of Israel and dislocated them from within the narrative of Rome, and in a way, that highlights the centrality of Israel’s Messiah: “the rock was Christ” (10:3–5). Earlier, in 9:21, Paul had described “Christ’s law” as the Mosaic Torah taken up into the hands of Christ, and here he extends the continued validity of Torah to the narrative level: it provides “examples” or paradigms for embodiment (10:6, 11). Paul’s gentiles will seem to outsiders as living very Jewishly—without becoming Jews. Avoiding idolatry is a primary indicator of living Jewishly. While it is often noted that the example of Jewish idolatry here is paradigmatic—“do not become idolaters” (10:7–13)—its effectiveness relies on the culturally accepted awareness that Jews were not idolaters. Paul highlights an example where Israelites were not embodying their covenantal identity, as a way to instruct these in-Christ gentiles in the way to embody their new covenant identity: “do not become idolaters . . . indulge in sexual immorality . . . put Christ to the test . . . and do not complain” (10:7–10). For Paul, some markers of gentile identity are no longer to be salient (12:2). Paul’s Jewish apocalyptic approach emerges again when he highlights the messianic time change that has occurred, Israel’s scriptural tradition was now relevant for those “on whom the ends of the ages have come” (10:11). This coheres closely to 4Q298 III 9–10, “in order that you understand the end of ages, and that you examine the for[m]er things, to know.” Paul recognizes that God has acted decisively in Christ and thus the nations should turn to the God of Israel as part of the restoration of Israel that has begun. In this messianic moment, in-Christ gentiles are called to be holy and cease being idolaters. Such an identity transformation would have extended to almost every area of life, so Paul ends by telling them that “God is faithful” and will help them overcome temptations in relation to honoring their provincial deities (10:12–13). (10:14–22) Avoiding Participating with Demons After instructing the Corinthians in ways to avoid venerating deities generally (10:1–13), Paul addresses another aspect of this problem, their involvement in meals at pagan temples (10:14–22). By drawing on the golden calf incident, he highlights the incongruity in worshipping the God of Israel through Christ along with venerating Greek and Roman deities: “flee . . . idols” (10:14). This is another example of Paul forming the Corinthians’ identity narrative through the resources of Israel’s scriptural tradition, in this case he calls them “sensible people” who are capable of an accurate assessment (10:15). Social identity narratives are clarified through the subjective experiences in which group members function, so Paul draws on their ongoing ritual practice with regards to the Lord’s Supper as a way to highlight incongruous practices (10:16–17). Their membership in the body of Christ provides the plot for their identity narrative, and in that story participation with demons has no place (10:18–22). Commentators often assume the social identity “Israel according to the Flesh” or “the people of Israel” is a negative label (10:18). However, it is more likely a neutral one since Paul draws on Israel’s temple rituals not as a reference to idolatry but as a way to illustrate the ongoing covenantal participation between Jews and the God of Israel at a temple meal. Fellowship between God and the participants is established in this altar-meal matrix (Mal 1:7, 12; Ezek 41:22; 44:16). This, however, was only able to be practiced in Jerusalem, and while some gentile participation was possible, full participation was not. The Lord’s Supper, in part, functions to fill this empty ritual space for in-Christ gentiles, but even here it seems the Corinthians had confused the nature of that 310

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meal (11:17–34). Paul draws on a comparison between Jewish and pagan temple rituals as a way to activate their cultural encyclopedia to convince them; even if they know these idols are nothing, they must still abstain from partaking in meals within the confines of a pagan temple. So, while Paul recognizes these provincial deities do not exist, nonetheless, he recognizes the spiritual reality of “demons” that are at work through pagan cult practice. Paul requires the Corinthian Christ-followers to dissociate themselves completely from their former social identifications in this area. This claim would impact their civic, economic, patronage, and ethnic identifications. This combined political opportunity structure was hindering the groups’ ability to mobilize and achieve the goal Paul had set out for them. So, he concludes by reminding them if they are thinking about ignoring Paul’s instructions, they may also be “provoking the Lord” (10:22). (10:23–11:1) Avoiding Offense in Intergroup and Intragroup Contexts Paul cites a slogan from the Corinthians, “All things are lawful” (10:23). However, the NRSV gives the mistaken idea that freedom from the law is in view here. The idea is likely closer to “everything is permitted.” Why is this preferred? In 10:26, Paul connects this slogan to Ps 24:1, which indicates that everything belongs to the Lord. God’s creation is good and so expressions of various cultural identities are not inherently negative. This suggests Paul is quite open to many aspects of gentile social identities and practices. He will actually suggest something like this in 10:31, “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever your do, do everything to the glory of God.” Further, he has in mind both intergroup and intragroup contexts in regards to not giving “offense” (10:32). That will come later, but in the first part of this section, his broad guidance is others oriented and focused on building up the group (10:23b–24). Commentators often think Paul has burst the boundaries of Judaism when he writes in 10:25, “Eat whatever is sold in the meat market” and do not raise concerns of “conscience.” However, this reflects the common diaspora Jewish practice which had already generated halakhic guidance for living among pagans. It would almost be impossible to abstain from purchasing meat that had not been associated with pagan practice to some extent. So, Paul provides instructions for negotiating the boundaries between worshipping the one God of Israel and what constitutes idolatry when dealing with food of indeterminate origin. This was not just an issue in the first century; during Augustine’s time he had to give instructions as to when food in close proximity to a pagan temple could be eaten and when it should not (Augustine, Letters, 46.6). So, Paul has not contradicted himself here, his argument actual coheres well with what he claims in 8:1–13 and 10:14–22. If a Christ-follower is seen participating in a way that causes others to think this is an acceptable group norm for the Christ-group or in a way that the group’s holiness is compromised, then what might otherwise be acceptable is no longer acceptable (10:27–29). Any action that distorts the perceptions of singular devotion to God then is problematic (10:31). What does that include? Aspects of the culture that gives “offense” or challenges the ingroup’s exclusive loyalty to God, and God’s “glory” (10:32). Paul himself is a halakhic pluralist and was capable of maintaining Torah observance in his mission among the nations. He is confident that these in-Christ gentiles can do so as well, at least to the degree that they are required to in light of the Jerusalem agreement (Acts 15:28–29). He offers himself and Christ as ingroup prototypes: “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ” (11:1). His hope is that his preferred identity narrative will gain visibility and legitimacy in both intergroup and intragroup relations as it relates to the various circumstances that arise in regards to idolatry in this Roman colony.

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Identity Narratives and Ingroup Activities (11:2–16:12) (11:2–16) Identity Narratives and Performance in Worship Paul has been made aware of an identity performance during their worship gathering that requires correction. Part of the problem relates to their identity narrative. Paul acknowledges that they “remember” his teaching and that they “maintain the traditions” that were “handed them” (11:2). This suggests their identitysalient actions are not completely deficient but do require adjustment. In this case the concern is with existing gender performances in light of Christ-group norms during worship (11:3–5). Paul thinks a woman should wear a “veil” when she “prays or prophesies” and a man should not (11:6–7). It is difficult to determine the background of this conflict, it might be an over-realized eschatology with its downplaying of existing gender identities; alternatively it might be an issue related to the new Roman women, who were provided new freedoms. Maybe it is best to combine aspects of these solutions found in the commentary tradition and suggest that this is another example of a high-status subgroup over-identifying with their civic identity in relation to Roman imperial eschatology and provincial gender performances unique to Roman Corinth. Paul seeks to adjust the group’s identity narrative by drawing on the resources of Israel’s scriptural tradition (11:7–10). He offers a midrash on Gen 1:16–17 and 2:21–23 that has relevance for the new situation in Corinth as it relates to the unity of woman and man. Paul’s combination of these texts into a new discourse, however, does not change the illocutionary force of the original statement. Paul recognizes that both genders are made in God’s image (Gen 1:27; 5:1–2), but draws from Genesis the idea that “a woman ought to have a symbol of authority on her head” (11:10). This accords with accepted Roman practice, but in 11:11–12, Paul suggests the status quo is not fully his perspective since “in the Lord woman is not independent of man.” Women praying or prophesying with their head uncovered, for Paul, represents a suppression of behaviors normally associated with a salient in-Christ social identity and an expression of norms associated with a relevant outgroup. Gender differences continue in-Christ but now relationality and mutuality must characterize their public worship performances. Paul calls for a new social identification, one that requires this high-status subgroup to distance themselves from values and beliefs that conflict with “the traditions” they had received. Paul is not there, so he asks them to “judge for yourselves” what is the acceptable identity performance for “a woman to pray to God” (11:13). He is not, however, fully confident in their decision so he develops an argument from “nature,” understood as what was acceptable culturally in Paul’s setting (11:14–16). As an artist of identity, he expresses his vision for their transformed practice in ways that are relevant to their social context. This provides the needed motivational force to return to their earlier identity performance, which included women wearing a veil as they prayed and prophesied in the communal gatherings. In this context, he has drawn on Israel’s scriptural tradition and existing cultural norms to address one of the main challenges in this letter, the way existing identities continue in-Christ (7:17–24). In 11:6 Paul writes, “if anyone is disposed to be contentious—we have no such customs, or do the churches of God.” He is aware that an alternate version of their identity narrative has been circulating in Corinth. This has led to intragroup competition over which narrative provides the least uncertainty. Paul’s last argument is designed to increase category availability for the Christ-group; he does this by noting the new identity performance does not align with previous “customs,” nor does it cohere with the practices among the other communities who are part of 312

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the Pauline Christ-movement. These comparisons should allow the reintroduction of the original identity narrative that connects their group’s history with their future. In 11:2–16, Paul seeks to mobilize their identity performance in a way that coheres with his original vision for their identity narrative: praying and prophesying in the communal gatherings, when done by women, should have an acceptable head covering. (11:17–34) Ingroup Violation and the Lord’s Supper Paul, as he turns to a discussion of the Lord’s Supper, does not “commend” the Corinthians because this identity performance “is not for the better but for the worse,” that is, it does not “build up” the group (12:17; cf. 8:1; 10:23; 14:12, 17, 26). Paul thinks this performance might reveal some within the group are not “genuine” Christ-followers and that others have actually “died” because of it (12:3, 17). Whatever the nature of the ingroup violation, it is such that it breaks Christ-movement norms, and the nature of Paul’s rhetoric suggests he is concerned that the high-status subgroup likely will not respond to his identity-based social influence. The ingroup violation occurs when the group comes together in their meetings; the unfair treatment reveals “divisions” among the Christ-group (12:18). Paul actually sees a benefit for subgroup “divisions,” since they will allow the group to discern the presence of “false brothers” within the community (12:19; cf. Gal 2:4). This raises an intriguing possibility concerning the intergroup nature of the problem, perhaps some are in fact not in-Christ. More likely, these are actual Christ-followers whose identity performance has begun to look like those outside the Christ-group, the group that needs to examine themselves. The ingroup violation is now made clear; the problematic subgroup gathers for the purposes of eating the “Lord’s supper,” but they do not wait for all to arrive, and more so some are getting “drunk” at the meal (12:20–21). Based on this, Paul manages this aspect of their social identity by noting what they are participating in is “not really . . . the Lord’s supper.” Shared meals strengthen ingroup belonging but in Corinth they were threatening it since latecomers were not included and remained “hungry.” Paul’s social creativity here is to have the group “eat and drink” before they gather. He then uses his social power to advance strategically the ingroup’s interest, those who do not follow Paul’s guidance reveal they have “contempt for the church of God” and are contributing to the humiliation of the low-status subgroup (12:22). Paul uses ekklēsia twice in this section (11:18, 22). Why draw on this superordinate identity here? He is trying to get the highstatus subgroup to see themselves first as members of the ekklēsia, the institutional label for the Pauline Christ-movement. Social identity approaches highlight the idea that a leader’s influence will increase to the extent that those followers involved in a conflict perceive themselves to be members of the same social category. Another identity narrative reinforces this superordinate identity. As members of the ekklēsia, they had heard of the tradition Paul “received” in regards to the last supper (12:23–26). So Paul, as an impresario of identity, restates the rubric for this worship tradition as a way to enlist the recommitment of the high-status group to the tradition they had previously accepted. This subgroup had developed a non-shared self-categorization. Their “us” did not include the lowstatus “them.” So, Paul tells the high-status subgroup if they continue their current practice, they will be eating and drinking in “an unworthy manner” and “will be answerable” for this ingroup violation (12:27). If this group does not reclassify themselves primarily as members of the ekklēsia—that is, a renewed shared self-categorization—they will likely see Paul’s rhetoric here as coercive. However, he offers them a way to enhance their situation: “examine yourselves, 313

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and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup” (12:28). Paul wants the high-status subgroup to see that the boundaries are permeable and that in his theologizing, social mobility can occur. He reminds them that if they reject his rhetorical advancement of the ingroup’s interest, then “judgment” will likely occur both now and in the future (12:29–32). The unfair treatment of many low-status Christ-group members by a small high-status group goes against earlier group norms and has resulted in dissatisfaction among the larger part of the Christ-following ingroup. The non-shared self-categorizations could not be left intact. So, Paul again reclassifies all of them as “brothers and sisters,” and then instructs them: “when you come together to eat, wait for one another” (12:33). This allows for a shared self-categorization, a sense of “us-ness” that reminds the high-status subgroup that this “remembrance” meal is not like other meals and when they “come together” it is to strengthen their social self-category (“us”), and should not to be a time that results in their “condemnation” (11:34; see 11:20, 24). They are to stop acting in accord with the distant social identity (in relation to their in-Christ one) and begin acting in a way that reflects their membership in the “new covenant” community, an alternative community with a distinct ethos (11:25). (12:1–11) Speech Accommodation and Group Convergence There are three aspects of group belonging: cognitive, evaluative, and emotional. In 12:1–3, Paul highlights the cognitive aspect— what the group should “know.” This knowledge should reside within those who live under the lordship of Christ, a group earlier described as “spiritual people” (2:13–16). He addresses the group as “brothers and sisters” and identifies his topic—that is, “spiritual gifts” (cf. 1:7, 7:7). The “now concerning” indicates a question from the Corinthians (cf. 7:1, 25; 8:1; 12:1; 16:1, 12), though it is unclear what aspect of the problem they had raised. It is likely his rhetoric here focuses on a high-status subgroup who were using these grace-gifts to underline asymmetries within the community through speech convergence and divergence, which reflect self-categorical division maintenance. Paul begins by reminding this subgroup of their previous social identification as “pagan” (12:2). Idolatry is one aspect of existing identities that do not continue in-Christ. Thus, they need a transformation in their evaluative processes; a person who says “Jesus is Lord” would not also say “Let Jesus be cursed” (12:3). If they follow Paul’s instructions here and allow their speech pattern to converge with that which is to be expected from “spiritual people,” then it would increase their social self-categorical relationships between the subgroups. This subgroup’s evaluative processes are deficient with regard to their valuation of certain “gifts” over other “manifestation[s] of the Spirit.” Paul contends that the various expressions of the “spiritual gifts” come from the “same Spirit,” “same Lord,” and “same God,” who distributes them to “everyone” (12:4–6). Further, these gifts are given “for the common good” (12:7; cf. 6:12; 10:24). He then gives a representative listing of these gifts in order to highlight the relative diversity present among the gifts “given by the Spirit” (12:8–10). The list ends with “tongues” and the “interpretation of tongues” which appears to be the ingroup characteristic causing the problem (see also 12:28). Thinking about this through the principle of comparative fit, the non-tongue-speaking (though otherwise gifted) subgroup and the tongue-speaking subgroup diverge in their intragroup context, since this individual or lower-level identity encourages such a categorization. Paul’s suggestion, rather, is to get them to characterize themselves as those who are “spiritual people,” who say “Jesus is Lord.” He wants them to see themselves as those who are spiritually gifted “for the common good” in contrast to a relevant outgroup. This group 314

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includes those who do not have the “Spirit,” who say “Jesus is accursed,” and are still being “led astray to idols.” What Paul has done from a self-categorization theory standpoint is to move the different subgroup members (non-tongue-speaking and tongue-speaking) to a comparison that will lead them to categorize themselves in terms of their shared identity in-Christ, thus increasing their speech convergence. He concludes by reminding them that these gifts “are activated by the Spirit” and it is by the Spirit’s agency that these are distributed “to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses” (12:11). The lower-status and the higher-status groups are “individually” recategorized into a shared spiritual social grouping (high-status) in contrast to those outside the Christ-group (low-status). (12:12–31) The Emergence of Unity amid Diversity in the Spirit This new social grouping, however, does not obliterate distinctions between the subgroups. Ingroup heterogeneity is expected to continue within “the body of Christ,” a body that has “many members” who populate this group “individually” (12:12, 27). The metaphor of the human body serves Paul’s purpose here to point out that “all the members of the body” are needed and that diversity within unity is to be expected. He emphasizes the oneness of the Christ-group, noting “one Spirit” twice and “one body” (12:13). His point is that all of the Corinthian Christ-followers are in-Christ. This oneness is defined in the context of their existing identities, “Jews or Greeks, slaves or free,” and not to the exclusion of these (7:17–24). The heterogeneity present among the Christ-group should be categorized in light of their shared experience of the “Spirit.” Existing cultural identities were not a deterrent to responding to God’s call in Christ, nor should continuing intragroup variability be seen as a problem to be overcome (Gal 3:28). To make this point evident, 12:14–19 demonstrates that just as the human body must have difference to function properly, so must the ekklēsia. In 12:15–17, Paul identifies with the low-status group, those whom were likely in the non-tongues-speaking subgroup, and makes it clear they belong in the body. No one should be excluded since “God arranged the members in the body . . . as he chose” (12:18). What is Paul suggesting? Social identity approaches highlight the idea that low-status group members will adjust their speech patterns to the high-status group members when social mobility is possible because group boundaries are porous. Paul’s concern is that type of intragroup relationship is problematic since it misses the nature of God’s design, “there are many parts, but one body” (12:20). If adjustments are to occur, it is not to remove ingroup heterogeneity from the Christ-group, but to pay closer attention to the way their existing thought patterns concerning those outside the body are contributing to intragroup discrimination, especially as it relates to attitude judgments. Paul challenges the high-status subgroup members more directly in 12:21–26. One member cannot say to another, “I have no need of you” (12:21). The “weaker,” “less honorable,” and “less respectable members” of the human body are seen as “indispensable,” “honor[able],” and “respect[able],” as part of God’s design (12:22–24). In an analogous way, each person in the Christ-group has a gift and his or her membership in the body is indispensable. Thus, low-status group members should not seek to move out of their calling into that of the high-status group, but more importantly the high-status group should stop their divergent speech patterns because these contribute to self-categorizational divisions within the Christ-group (12:25; see 1:10). The salience of their in-Christ social identity will be evident as they “show care for one another” and recognize their shared social identity as members of Christ’s body is their most important identity as seen through relationality and mutuality (12:26–27). 315

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Paul’s metaphor in these verses requires the Christ-group to engage in linguistic selfstereotyping. He needs the both subgroups to integrate their current characterizations of the ingroup into their self-concept: “Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it” (12:27). Accommodation, however, is not just focused on speech patterns but includes nonverbal or structural ones as well. The Corinthians need to understand the nature of the body of Christ if they are going maintain a shared social identity. Paul offers another list of “gifts,” including those “God has appointed,” as a way to remind them that there are indeed differences in their social and organizational landscape (12:28–31). It could be noted that this reintroduces a level of divergence since the hierarchy of “first apostles, second prophets, and third teachers” implies a non-shared categorization. However, this is not required. The numerals here modify “God has appointed” and suggest a general statement concerning the foundational and temporal role certain gifted individuals played in the formation of Christ-groups (Eph 2:20). Diversity of gifting is not a problem for Paul. He then moves forward in his social creativity to “show” the group “a more excellent way . . . love” (12:31, 13:1). Paul thinks, in different ways, both subgroups have desired to maintain their own social self-categorical divisions, which has produced divergence in their speech patterns. In 12:1–31, he sought to encompass both groups within a shared social selfcategorization and this is reflected in his use of convergence-oriented arguments in these verses. A practical result of Paul’s body metaphor should be a shared viewpoint that produces a unified, gifted, diverse community, in which the various subgroups desire to have relationships with one another that converge “for the common good.” Identity-based motivational factors are not going to go away so Paul needs to get them to think differently about their existing group memberships and accommodate their speech patterns in a way that brings to the fore their in-Christ social identity. He does just that in the next chapter. (13:1–13) Love as the Cognitive Alternative Paul’s rhetoric has been moving the Corinthians toward an alternative way of understanding their existing group memberships. In 13:1–3, he continues this by offering cognitive alternatives in regards to “tongues,” “prophetic powers,” “knowledge,” “faith,” and “possessions.” Some in the Christ-group already had an awareness of ways these social practices structured communal life but Paul’s restructuring here is designed to bring about social change. These indexes are important but are recategorized as “nothing” if the group members “do not have love,” this is the change Paul seeks (14:1). He thinks that “love” can help the Corinthians reframe their current experience, an idea he previously introduced in 8:1 where he offers a reinterpretation of their social practice in a way that reflects the idea that “love builds up.” Love provides a new motivation for group redefinition. “Love” without concrete explanation likely will not result in change, so Paul helps the Corinthians access this cognitive alternative through ideas that aid the group in seeing the strategy for uncertainty reduction he lays out (13:4–8). Group stress may be reduced if individual group members embody “love.” Here Paul continues to invent gentile identity in-Christ as a way to expand group identification and social support: “Love is patient [and] kind” (13:4a–b). Paul then shifts the list to connect with specific problems he raised earlier in the letter. For example, “Love is not envious” (13:4c) addresses the problem of “jealously and strife” (3:3); “boastful” (13:4d) reminds them of their earlier problem with being “puffed up” (4:6); and “does not insist on its own way” (13:5b) connects with his call to “seek [the] advantage . . . of the other” (10:24). Then in 13:7, he expands the concept of “love” beyond their specific problems and gives it a schematic 316

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representation that covers broadly their categorizational practices. Love “bears, believes, hopes, [and] endures all things.” Love is the basis for social support, even in the practices that have previously divided the group. “Love” also contributes to the formation of a possible future social identity (13:8–10). Paul will develop this idea further in ch. 15 but here he highlights the way an awareness of a future shared identity can strengthen the group and thereby reduce uncertainty. Paul’s strategy here is to reorder the Corinthians’ temporal horizon. Their current practices associated with “prophecies,” “tongues,” and “knowledge” are provisional but “love never ends” (13:8, 9). Paul’s solution is to highlight the parousia of Christ as that which should motivate the group to support one another in ways that reflect Christ, and Paul as ingroup prototypes (13:9–10; cf. 4:16; 11:1; 15:23). Selfcategorical relationships between group members affect support. If there is no shared or little shared self-categorization, then there will likely be a low willingness to provide support. In order to increase their shared self-categorization, he reminds all the Corinthians of the provisional nature of their knowledge, especially in light of their future appearing before Christ (13:10–12). There is a shared cognitive deficiency that is common to the “us-group” Paul seeks to form in these verses. Currently, the groups’ knowledge is “partial,” “childish,” and “dim,” but in the future they will “know fully.” This revisits his earlier claim concerning their shared social identity as God-lovers: “but anyone who loves God is known by him” (8:3). This future possible identity, as those who will see “the perfect,” should inform their current self-categorical relationships. He concludes by elevating his preferred cognitive alternative “love” even among other important self-categorization virtues: “faith” and “hope” (13:13). (14:1–12) Building up the Group by Diverse Speech The group ethos that emerges from Paul’s social creativity in 1 Cor 13 will be made evident if group members “pursue love,” “strive for the spiritual gifts,” and “prophesy” (14:1). These are identity-embedding structures that mobilize the group. Paul’s analysis of the situation in Corinth is that the identity performance of a certain subgroup in the congregation is not contributing to the group’s up-building (14:5). This subgroup’s social world is aligned around speaking in tongues rather than prophesying (14:2–5). Paul, on the other hand, thinks prophesy is more important for the formation of the group’s ethos, so he seeks to demobilize tongues. He does this by agreeing tongues are “mysteries of the Spirit,” but these mysteries are not beneficial for the broader group without an interpretation (14:2, 5). Those who “prophesy” communicate to the group in ways that strengthen and comfort them (14:3). This connects closely with Paul’s earlier claim that “love builds up” (8:1). Identity performances that “build up” rightly describe the group norm Paul seeks to inscribe (8:1, 10; 10:23; 14:4, 17). It is the way Paul creates a sense of “us” among two groups. For Paul, tongues builds up the individual but his focus here is building up the group’s ethos, so he seeks to mobilize prophesy (14:4). The starkness of his claim would have likely furthered the Corinthians’ schismatic tendencies, so in 14:5 he provides a path forward: if tongues are going to be practiced then there should be an interpretation, “so that the church may be built up” (14:5). Social identity theory of leadership contends that the person who is most prototypical of the group’s existing norms becomes the leader. It is clear that Paul thinks the tongues-speaking subgroup is significant in Corinth, so he reminds them that he is also a member of the tonguespeaking subgroup, placing himself as an ingroup prototype (14:6, 11, 18). Paul seeks to sustain his leadership through three illustrations that highlight the idea that mere sounds without a means 317

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to decode them does not produce insight, or in this case does not “build up” the congregation (14:7–12). Social identity theory highlights the way that prior identity choices impact a person’s language behavior, divergence or convergence with the group’s norms reflect the person’s relations within the group. Those committed to “building up” the group will accommodate their speech in the way Paul describes: be “eager for spiritual gifts” in a way that leads to “building up the church” (14:12). Paul relies on something similar to the meta-contrast principle from social identity theory. The more the category “building up” becomes salient between the tongues and prophecy subgroups, the more likely they will see a reduction in their conflicts as they start to perceive each other as members of the same category—that is, those seeking to build up the Christ-group in Corinth. Both speech practices are going to continue within their gatherings but now the principles of comparative and normative fit can function in a way that even these disparate speech practices can exist within the more salient category of those “building up” the congregation. This is the ritual or worship aspect of an in-Christ social identity, a doxological one that allows group members to embody specific ritual practices that emphasize maximal distinctiveness over time. (14:13–25) Speech Accommodation and Outsiders Speech accommodation, for Paul, is not only about the ingroup; it has relevance to those outside the group. Paul’s congregations are not sects; they are groups that have permeable boundaries. People can move from the outsider group to the insider group since that was the purpose of the gentile mission (1:18). However, this approach to group boundaries also caused many of the problems seen in this letter, so Paul writes to instruct the Corinthians on the way existing identities are transformed in-Christ (7:17–24). Paul’s social creativity here involves a redefinition of the practice of tongues, those who do this now “should pray for the power to interpret” (14:13). Paul puts himself forth as an ingroup prototype since he practices both types of speech and accommodates these practices based on the public or private context (14:14–15). The contrast of “spirit” and “mind” here should be seen in the context of the affections. There is a cognitive component to group identity and an emotional one as well. Paul highlights both of these aspects here and in the broader context provides a renewed evaluative understanding of the congregation’s identity in regards to their worship practices. Their speech-based identity performances must be embodied with “outsiders” in view (14:16, 23). This brings to the fore another group boundary issue. Paul’s emphasis on interpretation initiates a structural change but it is not only for strengthening ingroup salience; it is so the group is more attractive to those who are “unbelievers” (14:23). This rightly describes the concept of mission as social identification. The Corinthians need to have an enduring pattern of life that reflects a readiness to adjust their speech patterns for those who are the recipients of the Pauline mission. Speech accommodation for “outsiders” and “unbelievers” shows that a Christfollower is really a member of those who have a salient in-Christ social identity. Paul then restates his earlier arguments concerning his preference for prophesy but not in a way that completely demobilizes tongues (14:17–19). He reminds them that he is an ingroup prototype even when it comes to “tongues” and thus has the group’s interests in mind (4:18). This somewhat tempers the degree to which he discredits the tongues-speaking subgroup, thus allowing them the construe their identity without violating fully their existing group norms. Paul addresses another epistemic deficiency among the group; they need stop being like “children in your thinking” (see earlier 2:6, 14–16; 3:1). If they agree with his instructions here 318

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it increases the accessibility of this shared ingroup identity since their prior categorizations concerning ecstatic speech has been given renewed significance (14:20). To reinforce his point, in 14:21, Paul cites Isa 28:11–12 as a way to show them God brings judgment on those who refuse to listen. He reminds them that “tongues” have an outward orientation to them and that they are for “unbelievers” (14:22), possibly highlighting a seeming un-crossable speech boundary for this outgroup. However, Paul’s concern is that their speech practices further the gentile mission, rather than hinder it. Therefore, he describes a scenario in which during their gatherings, if all were only speaking in tongues, unbelievers would be confused and think the speaking group were “out of their mind” (14:23). The use of the outgroup as a way to influence those within the Christgroup is striking here. While Paul can acknowledge aspects of tongues speaking can function as an initial “sign” for unbelievers, even for this group “prophecy” is relevant. Ecstatic speech may convict them of their sin and lead them to recognize “‘God is really among you’” (14:25). This last phrase gives back to the ingroup its positive distinctiveness; even outsiders will see God is with their Christ-group. (14:26–40) Ingroup Norms for Tongues and Prophecy Paul, as an entrepreneur of identity, continues to argue over category definitions. He seeks to mobilize the speaking subgroup toward a future social identity. He asks, “What should be done?” His question is designed to focus their attention on the content of the ingroup identity which is, “Let all things be done for building up” (14:26). He does not restrict speaking in tongues; rather in 14:27, he limits it and construes a new norm for the group. Paul, earlier in 14:2, recognizes that tongues are a valid form of communication from God but those gifted in this way still must practice this gift in a constrained manner. The speakers are to “be silent” if “there is no one to interpret” (14:28). The rhetorical dimensions of Paul’s category definition are brought to the fore in 14:29– 33. Prototypical leaders are to “weigh what is said.” This highlights Paul’s concern about the content of the identity being made salient (14:29). The ingroup and outgroup distinctions are not sufficient to mobilize identity; the content of the group’s beliefs and practices must be taken into account. Paul provides further guidance for the group indicating ways the speaking may occur that allows “all” the group members to “learn” and “be encouraged” (14:30–31). Disagreements often occur as leaders seek to establish group consensus; for Paul schism may be overcome in regard to different speaking practices once the speakers recognize they should be “subject” to one another and that ultimately God is a God of “peace” and not “disorder” (14:32–33a). Paul continues his identity management in 14:33b by appealing to the way the local group is at the same time part of the larger Pauline Christ-movement. Paul thinks that if they practice a more inclusive self-categorization, then they will more likely adjust to the new group norms he lays out in these verses. Paul thinks that gender identities maintain their salience in-Christ and that leads him to address another problem that occurs during the worship gatherings: women speaking (14:34– 36). He had earlier provided guidelines for women’s verbal participation in their gatherings (11:2–16), so it is unlikely that Paul here in 14:34–35 restricts all speaking. The context of 14:26–40 suggests he is addressing something related to tongues and prophecy. The nature of social identity is such that members sometimes disagree with others and if these disagreements relate to crucial aspects of their identity then unity is blocked. According to Paul, one solution is that there are times when all group members should be silent (14:28, 30, 35). Thus, the 319

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restriction here isn’t unique but it was a type of identity performance that was blocking ingroup agreement. While it is difficult to discern, the issue likely related to wives publicly assessing their husband’s prophecy (14:29; see also 11:8–9). The crosscutting nature of this dilemma is clear. Their identity as a spouse and as a prophet can generally function without conflict but in those instances where they come in conflict, then each one should recognize that they are part of a larger group, a superordinate one in which God’s “word” has come (14:36). This may mean for the wife that she should refrain from publicly evaluating her husband’s prophecy but note that in 14:35, she still would be able to evaluate it “at home.” As for the husband, based on the restrictions mentioned in 28–30, he could also find himself in a position in which he too needs to subvert his own identity performance. The social identity tradition of leadership notes that leaders must be seen as an ingroup prototype in order to be effective. Paul (re)establishes himself in just such a position in 14:37– 40. Those in the ingroup will “acknowledge” that his group norm construal “is a command of the Lord” (14:34). He defends the ingroup and positions those “who do not recognize this” as outgroup members (14:35). He encourages “prophesy” and “tongues” as long as they are “done decently and in order” (14:39–40). Thus, he subverts the identity performance of those who do not agree with him since they violate essential elements of an in-Christ social identity. (15:1–19) Shared Group Beliefs and Future Identity The transformed group ethos in this section of the letter relies on shared group beliefs and future possible identity. Bar-Tal (39) contends that if you want to understand the nature of a group, you first must comprehend their shared beliefs. These beliefs do not remain cognitive but are embodied over time. Cinnirella (229–30) connects behavior and future possible selves, with an emphasis on the interaction between the individual and the group. In 1 Cor 15, Paul connects the group’s superordinate belief in the gospel (15:1–4) with their views on the future bodily resurrection. Identity is about differentiation and at the level of belief over the bodily resurrection, the Corinthians have divided into two subgroups: one accepts it and another rejects it (15:12). At one level, both groups have accepted “the gospel” (15:1), the proclamation of the kingdom of God in the life, death, burial, and bodily resurrection of Messiah Jesus in confirmation of Israel’s scriptural promises. The gospel once “received” (15:1) results in social implications that differ based on one’s calling and existing social identities (7:17–24). Much of 1 Corinthians deals with the social implications of the gospel, and here the content of the gospel serves as the basis for correct embodiment of these implications (so similarly 6:12–20). It is difficult to discern what their specific problem was—some suggest it was a denial of a future resurrection or only a denial of the bodily resurrection, while others suggest it was a complete rejection of the afterlife (see O’Reilly, 54–58). It is likely this subgroup allowed their existing belief that they were destined to exist as shades in Hades, to form the basis for the rejection of their future bodily resurrection. This may account for the content in 15:32–33 since Greek and Roman mythology often carried ideological and worldview implications. Paul, as an artist of identity, makes the abstract teaching on the resurrection concrete through his rhetoric in these verses (Haslam, Reicher, and Platow, 171–73). The gospel identity Paul forms here has individual components to it. Social identity is that part of the individual’s self-concept based on their group memberships, and from Paul’s perspective the shared superordinate group membership in view here is those who have received “the grace of God” and have been “saved” (15:1, 10). Earlier in the letter, Paul described the Corinthians as 320

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“individually members of ” Messiah’s body. In ch. 15, Paul describes his vocation as an “apostle,” but even that individual identity is part of a larger relational network of those in involved in the littoral gentile mission (16:5–12). Social identity approaches describe 15:5–11 in terms of selfcategorization along the interpersonal and intergroup continuum. His earlier persecution of the Jesus-movement reveals the degree to which an identity transformation is possible through God’s “grace” (15:10). Paul can recognize ingroup heterogeneity within the shared superordinate group of those have “believed” the gospel and thus are in-Christ (15:11). The belief in the future bodily resurrection is crucial for a gospel identity, and the rejection of this tradition has dire consequences for the subgroup members (“some” 15:12) who adhere to this view (15:12–19). First, if the future bodily resurrection is false then “Christ has not been raised,” their “faith” is useless, and the gospel is false (15:13–15). Second, if there is no resurrection then “you are still in your sins” and all of us are in a pitiful situation (15:16–19). Paul seeks to adjust the rejecting group’s belief and align their subgroup belief with Paul’s understanding of the superordinate belief in the future resurrection of the body. Paul’s argument here has a strong emotional element and thus likely reinforces the social identification with the believing subgroup while heightening the uncertainty of the future for the rejecting subgroup. Paul’s negative evaluation of the rejecting subgroup in 15:12–19 calls the desirability of that subgroup into question. This is in line with the findings of social identity theory, in that individuals will try to avoid negative future selves (Cinnirella, 229). O’Reilly (68–69) also notes this has an impact on embodiment, especially within the group’s relationships. Paul’s argument here would force a reconsideration of beliefs that could lead to reconciliation between the groups (of course, rejection of Paul’s views would create further distance). The relationship with the dead would also be influenced in light of 15:29. There was some type of ongoing relationship implicit in this baptismal practice and Paul’s teaching would likely alter that practice, again depending on whether they accept his arguments or not. O’Reilly has helpfully alerted interpreters to the important role that emotions play in belief systems both at the individual and group levels. Paul’s argument in 15:12–19 relies on the emotional aspects of group membership in order to move the rejecting subgroup affiliation into the believing subgroup association since there were significant consequences, especially as it relates to future uncertainty, in remaining in the rejecting subgroup. Paul thinks the Corinthians should see themselves as members of a future group of resurrected bodies. This future social identity has present implications (see 6:12–20). (15:20–34) Embodiment and the Future Self Jesus’s resurrection is central to Paul’s gospel, and in 15:20–28 it serves as the basis for his claim that those in-Christ will also be resurrected bodily. The association of these two ideas develops with Paul’s use of “first fruits” (15:20, 23). First, Christ’s resurrection is the guarantee of the resurrection of those who belong to him (15:23). His resurrection inaugurated a new era that culminates in Christ-followers’ bodily resurrection (O’Reilly, 70). As mentioned above, the gospel is an announcement of the kingdom, and in 15:24, the delivering of it to God guarantees the destruction of all political kingdoms and the spiritual beings aligned against God’s purposes in the world (15:45–49). This reminds the Corinthians who were too closely identifying with their Roman civic identity that they need to reassess their social identification. This victory is only a prolepsis since ultimate victory, over “death” still awaits in the future (15:25–26), a victory that includes their resurrection. This section relies on the idea of the corporate personality, one often unfamiliar to readers from individualistic cultures. It includes 321

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the two representative or prototypical figures, Adam and Christ (15:20–22). Both figures share a common human identity and can function as representatives for those found in them. If one is found in Adam, then death follows. If one is found in Christ, then resurrection pertains. For Paul, the world can be divided into two groups: those in-Adam and those in-Christ. The first group is still under the regime of death while the second group will experience resurrection when “all things are subjected” to God (15:27–28). O’Reilly (74) concludes, “The future self is the self as a member of the group that shares in Christ’s resurrection.” This future possible social identity has significant implications for the Corinthians’ embodiment in terms of their water practices, views of suffering and death, and their perspective on conviviality (15:29–34). For Paul, the subgroup’s practice of “baptism on behalf of the dead” (15:29) is inconsistent with their rejection of bodily resurrection, since it instantiates a group norm that goes against their belief. He uses himself as an example of one who is willing to risk death because he believes in a future resurrection. If they are following his example, then their risks are inconsistent with their rejection of the bodily resurrection (15:30–31). Paul likely has in view all the sufferings that occur fulfilling his vocation among the nations (2 Cor 11:26–27). The “beasts at Ephesus” (15:32a) are likely figurative for those causing him difficulty there (1 Cor 16:8–9). Paul’s point is the same as the first example: self-sacrifice like this would not be beneficial if he didn’t also have a hope for a future resurrection. If they are involved in a similar ongoing set of difficulties, then their rejection of the resurrection is inconsistent. He then offers a slogan that suggests, on the other hand, if there is no resurrection, then “let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die!” (15:32b). He reinforces the connection between embodiment and belief even when it comes to conviviality. The citation of Menander’s Thais frag. 218 in 15:33 raises further the subgroup differentiation evident in Corinth. Paul’s earlier negative assessment of the rejection subgroup emerges again as he warns the believing subgroup to consider their ongoing affiliation with the deviant subgroup. While Paul often allows for subgroup salience in his social creativity, there are points, however, that existing identifications are problematic. The rejection of the future bodily resurrection is one of those points. The rejecting group is likely in view with Paul’s use of “some” in 15:34; this connects back to the “some” in 15:12 and the “bad company” in 15:33. The cognitive component of this deviant subgroup is highlighted as Paul refers to them who “have no knowledge of God” (15:34). Their subgroup beliefs are mistaken and a source of “shame” since Paul wants them to identify in ways congruent with their future bodily resurrection group membership. (15:35–58) Possible Future Selves and Future Behaviors What is the nature of this future body? Paul turns to that question in 15:35–49 as a way to critique further the shared group beliefs of the rejecters (15:12, 33–34). He sets up a gentile interlocutor who asks, “How are the dead raised? With what kind of body do they come?” (15:35). He describes his interlocutor as “foolish” (15:36), a way to create rhetorical distance between the ingroup and the outgroup. He relies on an agricultural image describing that when a seed is planted, what emerges is not a seed but a plant (15:37). There is continuity between the two but not identity. If this subgroup thought that the resurrection body would be walking corpses, then Paul’s argument here corrects their overestimation in regard to continuity. The future “body” is indeed a body but it has been transformed by the work of the creator God of Israel (15:38). The transformed body is a type of “flesh,” of which in 15:39 Paul sees four different types in the created order. If God can create 322

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that type of diversity, then a resurrected body would not be out of the question (O’Reilly, 82). He makes a parallel argument concerning “bodies” and “glory” in 15:40, an argument that reinforces the diversity of God’s creative activity but one that substantiates the differences between the “celestial” and “terrestrial” bodies (15:41). The resurrected body is not going to be a corpse wandering around as a shade in Hades. It is a “spiritual body,” one raised by God’s power through the Spirit (15:44). This is Paul’s answer to the interlocutor’s second question: “With what kind of body do they come?” (15:35). Before he gets to that description, he describes the “sown” in death body as “perishable, dishonor[able], and weak.” The “raised” one is “imperishable, glor[ious], and power[ful]” (15:42–43). The resurrected body is a different kind of body, it is one characterized by the Spirit of God. This future possible group membership also spills back into the Christ-followers’ current experience (2:14–15) and the already and not yet nature of this spiritual existence (2:6, 9). This suggests “spiritual” functioned as an ingroup label to distinguish those who belong to Christ and those who did not (2:14; 3:1–3). This social categorization relies on the resources of comparative and normative fit for those rejecters who are now beginning to seem like members of the outgroup, or “outsiders or unbelievers” (14:23). In 15:45–46, Paul revisits his earlier Adam and Christ parallels drawing from Gen 2:7 in order to clarify the nature of the resurrection body. The contrasting representative figures are categorized as the “first” and “last Adam,” with the former being “a living being” and the latter “a life-giving spirit” (15:45). The first Adam then represents humanity under the regime of death while the second one represents the defeat of death. Christ then functions as a group prototype for one’s identity, “first” the “physical” then the “spiritual” (15:46). It is in the “last Adam” that one’s future identity is secure and certain. The creator God of Israel is now at work in Jesus’s resurrection bringing about the new creation. In 15:47–48 the contrast moves to “the man of earth” and “the man of heaven.” The focus here is not on origin but character or quality of identity. The contrast here is eschatological with the earthly relating to the old age and the heavenly “the new age inaugurated by the resurrection of Christ” (O’Reilly, 89). The prototypical nature of the representative figures comes to the fore in 15:48 where the various subgroup members reveal their identity based on the figure with which they identify. Those in-Christ, based on Paul’s already and not yet orientation, can begin to experience their future resurrection existence now— an experience that will be fully embodied in the future. Paul’s social creativity here is for those in the “last Adam” to “bear the image of the man from heaven” (15:49). The “we shall bear” in 15:49 is a future-tense verb but there is a textual variant that would allow for a subjunctive reading of this verb, rendering it “so let us bear.” In this reading, Paul is saying just that as we embodied an earthly existence in the first Adam, now that we are in the second Adam, let us bear that image (O’Reilly, 90). The “image” here likely refers to Christ’s resurrected body. Paul wants Christ-followers in Corinth to embody, in their existing identities, their new creation life. In 15:50–58, Paul restates his argument and frames it in a way to generate an emotional response from the Corinthians. The gospel message is about the “kingdom of God” and those in the first Adam cannot “inherit” it; their bodies need to be transformed. Paul continues to form a gospel social identity. What he tells them now is “a mystery,” that is, a previously concealed truth that has now been revealed (15:51; cf. 2:7; Rom 11:25). Not all Christ-followers will die but “all” will “be changed” (15:52; 1 Thess 4:15–17). This summarizes his main point in ch. 15, the future resurrection body is a transformed body (15:53–54a). Furthermore, he reminds them that death has been defeated (15:54b–55); he does this by citing Isa 25:8 and Hos 13:14. These 323

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citations combine to remind the Corinthians “death,” “sin,” and “the law” are power fields and they have been given “victory” over these “through our Lord Jesus Christ” (15:57). This renewed understanding of the resurrection body produces, or should produce, ethical changes, so Paul details some of those in 15:58. Cinnirella (229) contends that when group members value a future possible identity, they will then in turn begin to embody indexes of this identity on their way to attaining that identity. O’Reilly’s (94) work has alerted interpreters to the fact that something similar is going on in this chapter: “If the recipients are drawn to Paul’s positive evaluation, the likelihood increases that they will begin to behave in a way that coheres with that future social identity.” Transformed life beyond this life ought to transform this life. (16:1–4) Economic Social Identity and the Collection The “now concerning” suggests this was something the Corinthians had asked Paul (16:1). He refers to it as “the collection for the saints,” which is the collection for the poor in Jerusalem referenced elsewhere in Paul’s letters (Gal 2:10; 2 Cor 8:13–15; Rom 15:26). In those places he calls it “the service” (2 Cor 9:1) or “the partnership” (2 Cor 8:4). This is more in keeping with Paul’s view, as “the collection” was a patronage term as well as one used for the collection of money for the Egyptian goddess Isis. This suggests the Corinthians misunderstood the nature of the project. It is not a reciprocal endeavor but one that expresses mutuality between Christ-groups (16:2–4). Paul seeks to transform the Corinthians’ economic practices away from the patronal context to one of generosity. Economic decisions are actually based on prior identity ones, and for Paul, participation in the “partnership” for the poor in Jerusalem contributes to the formation of a transformed group ethos. Their involvement in this project will reveal the salience of their in-Christ social identity. It seems they eventually participated (Rom 15:26). (16:5–12) Leadership in the Littoral Gentile Mission Paul lays out his travel plans in 16:5–9. He plans to leave Ephesus and go through Macedonia on his way back to Corinth. He likely writes this to explain why he hasn’t returned to Corinth and hopes to spend significant amounts of time with them when he does arrive. He, as one firmly embedded within the accepted Jewish pattern of life, organizes time around the Jewish calendar. He plans to be in “Ephesus until Pentecost” (16:8). This timekeeping suggests further that he knew his gentile audience would understand this reference. It offers a small piece of evidence for the way Paul’s Christ-groups still identified with the broader synagogue community and its ritual life (16:21). The Mediterranean littoral serves as Paul’s mission area. This allowed him to offer a trans-local vision while directing and mobilizing with others various aspects of these Christ-followers’ communal identity, even while there were “many adversaries” in this mission (see further below 16:13–24). It is likely the first line of adversaries were heads of Roman households who recognized the social implications of the gospel. These went against many of the ways of the ancestors, the accepted Roman group norms. In order to achieve this vision, Paul needed co-workers, identity mediators who could provide cohesion and stability for the group in Paul’s absence. Timothy and Apollos had or will have such a role among the Corinthians. Timothy’s purpose, in Corinth, was to embody Paul’s preferred halakah (4:17), while Apollos had previously served as an ingroup prototype for the same purpose (1:12; 3:5–6, 22; 4:6). However, these identity mediators functioned as leaders as well; Paul was not the dominant leader but one among many early leaders. Timothy was also considered an “apostle” (1 Thess 2:6) and Apollos had his own ministry plans that were not controlled by

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Paul (1 Cor 16:12). The Paul of Paulinism emerges in the history of interpretation; the Paul of the littoral gentile mission is a bi-cultural mediator, a part of an emerging team of teachers and leaders who recognized that God’s grace has now been extended to the nations.

Paul’s Final Identity Leadership (16:13–24) (16:13–18) Paul Engineers Social Identity Here Paul offers one final attempt to engineer social identity. He suggests five structures for the Corinthians’ everyday lived experience, ones that if embodied correctly influence their larger social setting: “Keep alert, stand firm in your faith, be courageous, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love” (16:13–14). The first four align with existing concepts of Roman masculinity, while the last one mobilizes the group in ways that go beyond existing cultural scripts. The Roman household structure serves to organize his leadership engineering. Paul reminds the group “the household of Stephanas were the first converts in Achaia,” the region in which Corinth was situated (16:15). This household serves as a prototype for the way the Roman household is transformed within the Christ-movement; instead of serving the interests of the empire, its resources should be directed toward “the service of the saints.” In 16:16, Paul offers an identity-embedding structure for the community when he directs the Corinthians to follow this household and those who work alongside them. He expresses his affections for “Stephanas and Fortunatus and Achaicus,” elevating these three and reminding the Christ-followers of the way they represented them in their visit to Paul (16:17). He offers his recommendation of the letter carriers and expresses the way they “refreshed” Paul, a ministry they had previously engaged in among the Corinthians (16:18). Because they are prototypes of a gospel social identity, he instructs the Corinthians to “give recognition” to them (16:19). This will allow for the reshaping of the group and thus demonstrate the value of the social identity Paul has argued for throughout this letter. (16:19–20) Paul’s Social Identity Artistry Three groups send their greetings to the Corinthians: the Christ-groups in “Asia,” the Roman province with Ephesus as its capital; the ekklēsia led by “Aquila and Prisca”; and those members of God’s family in general (16:16–20). Paul functions as an artist of social identity here offering an alternative to the status quo. The Corinthians are not to see themselves as disconnected from other Christ-followers, they are part of a superordinate group of those in-Christ, whether aligned with the Pauline movement or not. One way to embody this trans-local identity is through the “holy kiss,” a ritual that reinforces the group’s shared kinship. (16:21–24) Paul as an Impresario of Social Identity The ritual “kiss” in 16:20 overlaps Paul as an artist and as an impresario of identity. The crafting of communal life needs to have a future orientation to it. So, in 16:21, Paul begins by offering his personal “greeting” and then in 16:22 describes a contrasting group to this kissing one. He curses anyone “who has no love for the Lord,” likely a ritualized outgroup and, as noted by Barclay (1133), “a formulaic phrase defining Christian identity (cf. 12:3).” One who curses or does not love Jesus cannot be part of the Christgroup. As an impresario of identity, he offers a future orientation by restating a phrase from the worship gathering, one influenced by the group’s Jewish context: “Our Lord, come!” This keeps the group moving forward in anticipation of the new reality to come. Paul closes the letter with

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a prayer that the Lord’s “grace” be with the group and Paul’s “love” as well. The last phrase “in Christ Jesus” encapsulates the identity that he has sought to craft in this letter: a salient in-Christ social identity, one that is ready to be acted upon in any given situation.

References Bar-Tal, Daniel. Group Beliefs: A Conception for Analyzing Group Structure, Processes, and Behavior. New York: Springer-Verlag, 1990. Barclay, John M. G. “1  Corinthians.” Pages 1108–33 in The Oxford Bible Commentary. Edited by John Barton and John Muddiman. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001. Barentsen, Jack. Emerging Leadership in the Pauline Mission: A Social Identity Perspective on Local Leadership Development in Corinth and Ephesus. Eugene: Pickwick, 2011. Cicero, Marcus Tullius. Pro Caelio; De Provinciis Consularibus; Pro Balbo. Translated by Robert Gardner. LCL 447. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1958. Cinnirella, Marco. “Exploring Temporal Aspects of Social Identity: The Concept of Possible Social Identities.” European Journal of Social Psychology 28 (1998): 227–48. Haslam, S. Alexander. Psychology in Organizations: The Social Identity Approach. Second ed. London: Sage, 2004. Haslam, S. Alexander, Stephen Reicher, and Michael Platow. The New Psychology of Leadership: Identity, Influence, and Power. Hove: Psychology, 2011. Kuecker, Aaron. “Filial Piety and Violence in Luke-Acts and the Aeneid: A Comparative Analysis of Two Trans-Ethnic Identities.” Pages 211–33 in T&T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London: Bloomsbury, 2014. Lim, Kar Yong. Metaphors and Social Identity Formation in Paul’s Letters to the Corinthians. Eugene: Pickwick, 2017. May, Alistair Scott. “The Body for the Lord”: Sex and Identity in 1 Corinthians 5–7. JSNTSup 278. London: T&T Clark, 2004. O’Reilly, Matthew. “The Body and the Future: A Socio-Rhetorical Approach to Paul’s Ethics with Special Reference to the Resurrection of the Body.” PhD diss., University of Gloucestershire, 2016. Reicher, Stephen, S. Alexander Haslam, and Michael Platow. “Social Psychology.” Pages 150–60 in The Oxford Handbook of Political Leadership. Edited by R. A. Rhodes and Paul ‘t Hart. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. Reicher, Stephen, S. Alexander Haslam, Michael Platow, and Nik Steffens. “Tyranny and Leadership.” Pages 71–87 in Understanding Peace and Conflict Through Social Identity Theory: Contemporary Global Perspectives. Edited by Shelley McKeown, Reeshma Haji, and Neil Ferguson. New York: Springer, 2016. Rudolph, David J. A Jew to the Jews: Jewish Contours of Pauline Flexibility in 1 Corinthians 9.19–23. 2nd ed. Eugene: Pickwick, 2016. Tucker, J. Brian. You Belong to Christ: Paul and the Formation of Social Identity in 1 Corinthians 1–4. Eugene: Pickwick, 2010.

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Chapter  9

2 Corinthians Kar Yong Lim

Introduction Authorship, Dating, and Recipients Although 2 Corinthians claims to be written by Paul and Timothy (1:1), Paul probably took sole responsibility in the composition. There is no major dispute on Paul’s authorship of this letter, which was most likely written around 55–58 CE to the Christ-followers in Corinth and in the wider region of Achaia (1:1).

Literary Integrity of 2 Corinthians Apart from 2 Corinthians, no other literature within the Pauline corpus has received so much attention concerning its literary integrity since it was first challenged by J. S. Semler in 1776. The history of scholarship on this issue is long and complex (Betz, 3–35; Hall, 86–128; Harris, 8–51; Thrall, I:3–49). Scholars have long since recognized inconsistencies, interruptions of flow, and sharp changes of mood in its canonical form. Within chs 1–8, there are two passages that seem to interrupt the flow of thought, namely, 2:14–7:4 and within this passage, 6:14–7:1. On the other hand, affinities between 2:13 and 7:5 lead scholars to argue for the unity of 1:1–2:13 and 7:5–16, with 2:14–7:4 and 6:14–7:1 considered as interpolations. Other breaks of flow also occur at 8:1 and 9:1, resulting in suggestions that chs 8 and 9 could possibly be two separate letters. The greatest division, however, takes place at 10:1 where completely different circumstances, mood, and tone are detected in the flow, resulting in the suggestion that 2 Cor 10–13 constitutes a separate letter. Further complicating the debate is the mention of a “painful letter” (2:4, 9; 7:8, 12). Some scholars consider this letter to comprise 2 Cor 10–13, perhaps written prior to 2 Cor 1–9. Others argue that it is a separate letter composed prior to 2 Cor 1–9, and which is now lost. These complications have led to numerous partition theories ranging from a simple two-letter theory to a complex six-letter hypothesis. Yet, the integrity of 2 Corinthians continues to be defended, particularly since the late 1990s when various explanations from ancient rhetorical analysis were used to account for the differences in tone and style (Harris, 42–51; Hall, 86–128; Witherington III, 329). Two additional considerations deserve further attention. First, the logistics involved in the composition of letters in Paul’s day was no small task, requiring careful planning, drafting, labor,

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and time. Many hours, and even days and weeks, were required in the composition of a letter the length of 2 Corinthians. It is very likely that its composition would not have taken place in a single sitting (Harris, 50). This may account for the changes of tone and style noted in its composition. Secondly, there is a coherence of theme in 2 Corinthians. The differences between 2 Cor 1–9 and 10–13 have been overemphasized by those advocating for partition theory (Barnett, 452; Harris, 661). Careful examination of the canonical letter shows that similarities between these chapters are far more apparent than has been allowed. There is a coherence of theme and vocabulary particularly related to Paul’s suffering and weakness. Furthermore, all the earliest manuscripts support a unified 2 Corinthians. In light of these factors, the integrity of 2 Corinthians is assumed in this commentary.

Paul’s Opponents in 2 Corinthians The precise identity of Paul’s opponents, labeled as “super apostles” in 11:5 and 12:11, has been assumed to be of critical importance in the interpretation of 2 Corinthians (Sumney, 189–90). This is reflected in the various possibilities put forward in the large number of monographs and studies on the identity of Paul’s opponents: (1) Judaizers; (2) Jewish propagandists from a Hellenistic background; (3) Gnostics; (4) “Divine men”; and (5) Pneumatics (Thrall, II:926–45). Precisely identifying Paul’s opponents is a highly conjectural exercise and numerous obstacles stand against their identification. Firstly, there is lack of sufficient information concerning their identity to construct an adequate background. Secondly, the only source available to identify them is Paul’s expressed views of them in his letters. If Paul wishes to present a negative evaluation of the opponents, some forms of exaggeration and distortion of their portrait should not be completely ruled out. Thirdly, Paul’s information about the opponents is at times second hand and probably based on reports he received from Titus and the Corinthians. Finally, the problem in identifying Paul’s opponents also lies in the methodological approach. Often described as “mirror reading,” a plausible historical reconstruction of the opponents and circumstances surrounding the conflict with Paul is postulated by simply taking what he affirms in the text and, through this reconstruction, identifying the opponents. The task of interpreting Paul’s response to their challenges, criticisms, and claims is then made based on these assumptions. This method is arbitrary and could be inconsistently applied, and may not be an appropriate method for identifying Paul’s opponents. This exercise often leads to a circular mode of argumentation where uncertainty is built on uncertainty, and based on the reconstructions derived from Paul’s letter, they are then interpreted in light of those conclusions. As such, any assumptions that allow the hypothesized identity of the opponents to drive the interpretation of 2 Corinthians overestimate their importance and misplace the rich content of the letter. Furthermore, nowhere does Paul engage the opponents directly in his letter. Based on these observations, the precise identity of the opponents is not crucial to interpreting 2 Corinthians other than to state that they were most likely Jewish missionaries who adopted the style and criteria prevailing in Greco-Roman conventions and were welcomed by at least a group of Corinthians believers. In this commentary, the focus will be on Paul’s conversation with the Corinthians. The presence of the opponents is acknowledged but they remain in the background. If the primary focus of 2 Corinthians is to call the Corinthians to reassess their own standing in the faith and to 328

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return to the teaching and leadership of Paul, then the crucial issue is no longer “Who were the opponents?” but “Why did the Corinthians shift their allegiance from Paul to this group of people who in Paul’s view seemed to do more harm than good to the community?” (cf. 2:17; 11:19–20).

Social Identity Approach Of all the Christ-movements founded by Paul, the Corinthian congregation is probably the one confronted with the most problems. Paul’s two canonical Corinthian letters are evidence of a community that was plagued with conflicts and tensions internally and externally—among the members of the Christ-movement; between the members and Paul; and among the members, Paul, and external opposition parties who were against Paul. The extent of the conflicts and tension is striking because it was in Corinth that Paul spent the second longest period of time after Ephesus throughout his active missionary period. With a period of eighteen months in Corinth during the founding visit (Acts 18:1), one can only imagine the amount of opportunity and personal contacts Paul would have had in instructing the Christ-followers in the faith. Yet, this recalcitrant Christ-movement was one that failed to conform to the teachings of Paul, as evidenced by the amount of energy and time spent both in the number of visits and that of correspondences he had with the Corinthians. In terms of Paul’s visits to Corinth, there were the founding visit (Acts 18:1), the “painful visit” (2:1; 12:21), and potentially a third visit (12:14, 20–21; 13:1–2). In between these visits, there were other planned visits that did not materialize (1 Cor 16:2, 5 and 2 Cor 1:15–16, 23; 2:3). Studies incorporating social-scientific approaches and social identity formation theory have been shedding new light in understanding some of the problems in the Corinthian church. A number of scholars have established that the nature of the problems in Corinth was not so much theological but due to the role and implications of social status and the impact of social implications of GrecoRoman social identity (Tucker, 268–70; Savage, 187–90). Some of the Corinthians continue to identify primarily with their Roman social identity rather than their “in Christ” identity, and this confusion over identity positions contributed to the problems within the community (Tucker, 35). However, most of these studies on social identity are largely confined to 1 Corinthians. It is unfortunate that 2 Corinthians remains a neglected area. As Paul’s second canonical letter to the fledging congregation, 2 Corinthians gives room for further analysis as to the outcome of Paul’s quest for identity formation in 1 Corinthians. Reading 2 Corinthians with hindsight provides further opportunity to explore whether what Paul sets out to achieve in 1 Corinthians is met with some measure of success or failure in 2 Corinthians. If Paul’s attempt has not produced the desired outcome, any further exigencies employed in 2 Corinthians addressing these failures could then be explored.

Temporal Considerations in Social Identity Theory (SIT) and 2 Corinthians One weakness in social identity theory (SIT) is that issues such as prejudice, intergroup differentiation, intergroup conflict, and social movements among others are assumed to be 329

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relatively enduring over time (Condor, 290). This is seen in the initial methodology developed by Tajfel based on laboratory experiments relying on minimum group paradigm studies. His first experiment among English schoolboys in the early 1970s showed that discrimination existed based on arbitrary sense of group membership, against a perceived out-group. Typically, a number of assumptions such as concepts, values, or practices were accepted as static in order to allow a better view of reality in relation to group identity formation. However, this methodology is limited in its ability to illuminate diachronic processes, especially those taking place over an extended period of time. In reality, social relations are realized and developed over time; they form a temporal trajectory rather than a static set of positions. How intra- and intergroup processes may unfold and transform over time remains to be fully explored in SIT. Based on Tajfel’s experiment, once it was established that the schoolboys were complying with general cultural norms of group behaviors resulting in competition between social groups and that they behaved as they did in order to achieve their social identity, the story ended there. The experiment was terminated, and what happened next was never further explored. Recognizing this weakness, Condor suggests that temporal considerations be incorporated to address issues of temporality in SIT (Condor, 296). Temporal comparison can be understood as the process of judging the present status of an object, individual, or group against its own past. This could profitably be used in the investigation of the social identity formation in 2 Corinthians. Since there are two canonical letters of Paul to the Corinthians, it makes sense to consider the following questions: Comparing 1 Corinthians and 2 Corinthians, had the issues and circumstances addressed in the former letter been resolved? How had the relationship between the Corinthians and Paul himself developed since 1 Corinthians? What about the progress of the collection for Jerusalem that was initiated in 1 Cor 16:1–4? Were there new developments that would seem to either build or threaten the formation of social identity? These questions are useful for a temporal comparison in social identity formation and will be considered in evaluating the present status of the Corinthians based on 2 Corinthians against its own past as reflected in 1 Corinthians.

Where Has 1 Corinthians Left Us? At least three new developments had taken place by the time 2 Corinthians was written, further threatening the fragile cohesiveness among the Corinthians and their relationship with Paul. First, Paul’s relationship with the Corinthians seemed to have deteriorated drastically. After the composition of 1 Corinthians, Paul made a disastrous “painful visit” that resulted in his unexpected hasty departure and the composition of a “painful letter” (1:23–2:12). This letter was most likely dispatched through Titus who had been charged to attend to the rising tensions. Paul subsequently waited anxiously for Titus’s return for the updated report on the situation in Corinth. While Titus seemed to give a rather favorable oral report (7:5–16) in which the conflict and tension had somewhat calmed down, Paul’s relationship with the Corinthians remained fragile. There existed some other external opposing forces that threatened group cohesiveness. Described as the “super apostles” (11:5; 12:11), these opponents of Paul attempted to cause further division between him and the Corinthians by reinforcing the values derived from Roman civic identity such as placing significance in polished rhetoric, boasting in success and achievements, and

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undermining Paul’s weaknesses. As a result, Paul desperately needed to align the Corinthians to him and to his teaching of the gospel, and at the same time, to warn the Corinthians to separate themselves from all association with these super apostles. In doing so, Paul attempted to paint a negative cognitive judgment on the opponents. Secondly, the presence of Paul’s opponents in Corinth not only further compounded the problem between the apostle and the Corinthians; these “super apostles” were undermining Paul’s credentials, claiming that his sufferings proved that he was not a true apostle (10:10, and the wider discussion in 2 Cor 10–13). This resulted in further disruption to the cohesiveness of the ingroup which caused Paul giving his sufferings and weaknesses extended positive cognitive treatment to the Corinthians. Thirdly, the Jerusalem collection project that Paul first initiated for the Jerusalem church (1 Cor 16:1–4) had somewhat stalled, possibly due to the deteriorating relationship with the apostle. As such, Paul needed to encourage the Corinthians to complete what they had earlier promised by giving generously to the collection project. This can be seen in Paul devoting two full chapters (2 Cor 8–9) to deal with this issue where he hoped that the Jerusalem collection could potentially be used as an indication of social change or influence. These new developments would have alarmed Paul as they could be seen as threats not only to his apostleship and status as a founder, but also to the future of the Christ-movement in Corinth. Paul needed to address these threats dealing with group cohesiveness, ingroup conflicts, and the wider relationship with others belonging to the same confession of faith. There was a clear conflict of social identity between what Paul was attempting to promote and that which the opponents were trying to sway the Corinthians from. When the existence of the Corinthian community was under serious attack, Paul had no choice but to engage in temporal comparison to impress upon the Corinthians the cognitive assessment of their social identity where he introduced the notion of “new creation” in 5:17, further reinforcing the need for social change in their understanding of their “in-Christ” identity.

Commentary Opening Address (1:1–11) (1:1–2) Address Paul identifies himself as the author of 2 Corinthians. Although Timothy is mentioned as a co-sender, it is most likely that Paul was solely responsible for the content of the letter. This letter is addressed to all the saints in Corinth and those in the region of Achaia, suggesting that this letter might be circulated in other assemblies within the region (1:1). Following the customary identification of the senders and recipients, Paul greets the Corinthians with the grace and peace of God and the Lord Jesus Christ (1:2). (1:3–11) Epistolary Thanksgiving The common practice and convention in letter writing in the Greco-Roman world was to begin a letter with a thanksgiving section where the author gave thanks to the gods for showering the recipients with blessings or some favor. Paul follows this practice fairly closely in his letters in the NT. By appearing in a strategic location at the 331

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beginning of the letter, this section typically contains an outline of the major themes that will be subsequently addressed in the letters, and thereby setting the tone for the entire letter and allowing the recipients to anticipate the content of the letter. A number of important themes appear in the thanksgiving section in 1:3–11. Overall, the theme of suffering is most dominant and governs Paul’s flow of thought throughout the letter. This theme also appears elsewhere in 2:14–16; 4:7–12; 6:1–10; 11:23–12:10 and finally recapitulated in 13:4. Apart from these key passages, references to suffering could also be found in 2:4; 7:4; and 8:2, among others. Other themes closely related to suffering could also be discerned in the thanksgiving section. These include the themes of comfort (1:3–7) and deliverance (1:8– 11); life and death (1:8, 9, 10; further developed in 2:14–16; 4:10–12; 5:14–15; 6:9–10, and 13:4); and solidarity between Paul, Christ, and the Corinthians (1:6, 7, 11). All these motifs find their meaningful expression in Christ. By connecting his sufferings to that of Christ’s, Paul demonstrates that his sufferings were not meaningless. As Paul risked his life for the sake of the gospel, his imminent prospect of death (1:8–11) was no longer viewed as an end in itself. On the contrary, life and death were reinterpreted in the light of the death and resurrection of Christ. It is this identity in Christ that Paul wanted his life and ministry to tell, and it is this identity that he wanted the community he founded in Corinth to embrace. In the epistolary thanksgiving section, Paul begins by expressing his benediction to God instead of the usual thanksgiving form found in his other letters. He calls God the God of all comfort who continues to comfort him and his fellow co-workers in all their afflictions (1:3–4). This enables Paul to comfort those in affliction with the same comfort he receives from God (1:4). Following this, Paul identifies his continuous experience of suffering with Christ (1:5) where the Corinthians were both the beneficiaries and partners in this shared narrative of suffering (1:6–7). 2 Cor 1:5 contains parallel statements not only contrasting the notion of “sufferings” with “comfort” but also emphasizing the notion of “overflowing”—just as the sufferings of Christ are overflowing in Paul, the comfort he receives is also overflowing. In recounting his experience of suffering, Christ remained central to Paul’s thought. Christ is both the source from which sufferings overflow to Paul and the channel through which comfort overflows to him (Barnett, 74). This similar construction is also seen in 1:6 as Paul once again pairs the theme of suffering with comfort. The Corinthians were explicitly identified as the direct beneficiaries of his sufferings and comfort. Following this, Paul expresses his deep desire for reciprocity in his relationship with the Corinthians, by which they were to partner with him by sharing in his sufferings and comfort (1:7). By using the disclosure formula (“we do not want you to be unaware”) in 1:8, Paul draws attention to the connection between 1:8–11 and the foregoing section in 1:3–7. As such, the theme of suffering and comfort in 1:3–7 not only anticipates 1:8–11 but also serves as an illustration of how this theme is worked out in Paul’s life in the devastating Asian experience. He recounts the mortal danger he encountered in Asia as a result of his apostolic mission but offers no details of his suffering. Numerous suggestions have been proposed including severe persecution (Martin, 16), imprisonment (Thrall, I:116–17), and some kind of severe chronic illness (Harris, 164–82). Paul’s silence on the precise nature and character of his afflictions may be significant, especially in view of his detailed recitals of his sufferings elsewhere in the letter (4:7–12; 6:3–10; 11:23–33; 12:10). Thus, Paul’s primary focus here is on the effects of this experience which are described in a very dramatic and overwhelming manner. He was completely weighed down to such a great 332

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extent that he despaired even of life itself. By using such hyperbolic language in describing his experience, Paul is emphasizing the dangers and hardships he underwent for the Corinthians’ benefit (cf. 4:8–12, 15). This desperate situation drove Paul to place his complete trust and hope in the God “who raises the dead” (1:9). This description not only foreshadows the subsequent reference in 4:14 to “the one who raised the Lord Jesus,” but is strongly suggestive of Paul having his identity rooted in Christ in mind. Through this experience, Paul also experienced the comfort that comes through the deliverance of God. He appeals for the Corinthians’ help and solicits their prayers to God. In doing so, Paul not only stresses the reciprocity, partnership, and his desire for reconciliation with them, but also invites them to participate in his apostolic ministry by supporting him through prayers so that others may give thanks as well (1:11). Paul’s invitation to the Corinthians to participate in his sufferings is seen as his emphatic appeal to align the Corinthians not only to himself but also to Christ. This fellowship involves shared activity: they received comfort and salvation, and in return they entered into this fellowship and offered their prayers on behalf of Paul. The alternative, never openly stated by Paul, is that rejecting Paul’s invitation to be participants in this shared identity narrative is essentially to reject Paul based on the nature of his suffering. In other words, if the Corinthians refused to accept Paul’s suffering, they were in fact rejecting Christ’s suffering and his redemptive works in their lives as well.

Paul’s Apostleship and the Corinthians (1:12–7:16) (1:12–14) Paul Boasts about the Corinthians Before explaining his change of travel plans that caused the Corinthians to question his sincerity, Paul begins by boasting about them. Boasting is a notion that appears frequently in 2 Corinthians (see 5:12; 7:4, 7:14; 8:2; 9:2–3; 10:8–17; 11:10–30; and 12:1–9). Closely related to the theme of boasting is also frankness (1:12)—an ancient rhetorical tool where one was able to speak freely and to be open in one’s dealings with others (see 2:17; 3:12; 10:2). The notions of boasting and frankness were expressions of the value of assertiveness in the Greco-Roman world. By using these literary devices, Paul wants the Corinthians to realize his closeness to them and hopes to reestablish the strong emotional ties he earlier had with them. The Corinthians could only align themselves to Paul if they reciprocated the same feelings toward him, and not to other parties (1:7, 11). This strategy is crucial in social identity formation. The more the group is able to align themselves to Paul, the stronger the sense of belonging and cohesiveness of the group to both the founder/leader and to one another would be displayed. (1:15–2:13) Paul Explains His Change of Plans Paul feels the need to explain his change of travel plans, possibly responding to a charge of him being inconsistent. It is impossible to reconstruct the actual movements of Paul, but it probably has to do with his earlier, unmaterialized plans to visit Corinth (1:23) before proceeding to Macedonia (1:16; 1 Cor 16:5–7). In response, Paul insists that he had not been inconsistent. As one divinely appointed by God, he submits himself to the will of God, even if it meant changing his travel plans (1:23).

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Before providing reasons for his change of plans, Paul seizes the opportunity to reinforce his relationship with the Corinthians. The closeness of their relationship is sealed “in Christ” through the giving of the Holy Spirit (1:21–22). This metaphor recalls the conversion of the Corinthians from pagan practices to Christ. Appealing to the seal of the Holy Spirit is a powerful means of not only recalling one’s deep sense of belonging in Christ but also signifying a deep sense of communal belonging to one another. Paul makes it known that he and the Corinthians both belonged together in Christ, unlike those who threw accusations at him by questioning his integrity and inconsistency. The emphasis on the “in Christ” identity is crucial for Paul to remind and realign the Corinthians to their previous identity salience. After reminding the Corinthians of their shared narrative of belonging, Paul proceeds to explain why he did not make his planned visit to them. The purpose was to spare them much pain (2:1). Paul recounts an earlier painful visit he made sometime in between the composition of 1 and 2 Corinthians. What motivated this painful visit could most likely be due to a conflict with an individual, the nature of which is not specifically mentioned. Paul states that the offending party had been severely dealt with by the community and he should now reconciled to the community (2:5–11). This intense conflict had negatively affected Paul’s relationship with the Corinthians and caused him much pain. After this visit, Paul wrote a letter known as the “painful letter” that was brought by Titus to the community (2:12–13; 7:8–12). While this letter probably no longer exists, its emotional effects on Paul could be seen in 2:3–4. His language in 2:4 reflects a broken relationship that caused him great emotional pain. He claimed that he wrote with much distress and anguish of heart and many tears. Worse, Paul was not sure if his painful letter would even be positively received by the Corinthians. This anxiety subsequently caused Paul to miss an opportunity to proclaim the gospel when he was in Troas as he could not find Titus who was supposed to return to him after delivering the painful letter (2:12–13). Because of this restlessness, Paul departed and went to the region of Macedonia. By recounting this painful experience and by expressing his anxiety and deep love for the Corinthians to the extent of missing an opportunity to proclaim the gospel in Troas, Paul hopes that they would also endear themselves to him. Paul states that the emotional ties between him and the Corinthians were so deep that they should not and could not be broken. Such an emotional appeal would evoke similar emotional response from the Corinthians, causing them to reconsider their relationship with their founder. (2:14–3:6) Paul as a Genuine Apostle Paul begins this section by expressing his thanksgiving to God by using a triumphal procession metaphor. With God leading the procession, Paul portrays himself as an agent displaying the fragrance of the knowledge of Christ (2:14; Lim, 74–79). He further emphasizes the decisive nature of his apostolic ministry depending on how the Corinthians responded to him: to those who accepted him and his preaching of the gospel, it brought life; and to those who refused, it brought death (2:15–16). By using a strong language of belonging and separation, Paul demarcates the boundaries of the community. Those who belonged to Christ were evaluated positively, and those who were outside the boundary were described negatively. The Corinthians were urged to consider carefully their behavior, actions, and attitude toward Paul as whatever decisions they made had eternal consequences. Paul’s final aim was to ensure that the Corinthians remained firmly part of God’s narrative so that they would not be tragically numbered among those who are perishing. 334

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Paul further states that he was unlike other preachers or apostles who were behaving like greedy or deceptive peddlers (2:17). Peddling is commercial terminology often used negatively for itinerant teachers. Here, Paul clearly distinguishes himself from these dishonest people by painting a negative picture of them and by describing himself positively as an apostle that was sincere and truthful. Any suspicion of Paul’s motive and intention was removed by his strong language here. Paul moves on to address another possible charge against him: his failure to produce a letter of recommendation (3:1–3). Letters of recommendation were commonly used in the Greco-Roman world for the introduction and recommendation of people traveling from one place to another to ensure that hospitality and acceptance were properly accorded to the guests. While Rom 16:1–2 indicates that Paul could easily provide such letters as he did for Phoebe, he decided that such letters were unnecessary in the context of the Corinthians. To those who questioned him for the lack of a letter of recommendation, Paul replies by stating that he did not need any of this because the Corinthians themselves were his letter of recommendation, an open letter read by all (3:1–3). By declaring this, Paul is provoking the Corinthians to consider their relationship with him and how they treated him as their apostle. If Paul could speak well of the Corinthians, would they not reciprocate in the same manner? Would they live up to their reputation as a Christ community founded by Paul and aligned to him? The Corinthians must consider carefully whose side they were now on. (3:7–18) Paul as a Minister of the New Covenant In this section, Paul plays around with different metaphors in contrasting the old relationship between God and his people and the new relationship the Corinthians enjoyed in Christ: letter/spirit; death/life; condemnation/justification; and old covenant/new covenant. In 3:6–11, Paul depicts the Law in negative terms—the Law killed and was inadequate, and as a result, it was set aside. While admitting that the Law was glorious, Paul has found the new covenant even more glorious (3:9–11). Paul places great emphasis on the salient “in-Christ” identity of the Corinthians. He amplifies the greatness of the new covenant in 3:12–18, emphasizing the superiority of this new “in Christ” identity that the Corinthians had compared to those who lived under the shadow of the old covenant. Not only is the new covenant more glorious, the veil that darkened the mind had been removed in Christ. With the freedom enjoyed in Christ, the focus now shifts to the transformation of the Christ-followers into the image of Christ with increasing conformity to him. (4:1–6) Paul as an Honest Apostle Having established that he was a minister of the new covenant, Paul then presents himself as an honest servant of Jesus Christ. He asserts that he was unlike other apostles or itinerant preachers who proclaimed Christ out of selfish ambitions by listing a list of negative, dishonest, and shameful traits that they practiced compared to what he as a genuine apostle upheld: they practiced shameful deeds in private, but Paul renounced all these (4:2); they practiced cunning ways and falsified God’s word, but Paul presented only the truth (4:2); and they boasted about themselves, but Paul only proclaimed Christ (4:5). In portraying himself positively and painting the others negatively, Paul aims to present himself as a genuine and honest servant of Christ that the Corinthians should follow and emulate. By doing so, Paul is challenging the Corinthians to evaluate those outsiders carefully whether these itinerant preachers deserved the attention the Corinthians had given them.

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(4:7–18) Paul as a Suffering Apostle In 4:7–12, Paul gives his suffering a profound Christological interpretation expressed in one of his sharpest and most paradoxical formulations. Paul begins this section with a thesis-like statement by declaring that, as an earthen vessel, he carried the treasure of the gospel in order to demonstrate that the exceeding greatness of power in his ministry of the gospel had its source from God and not from any human (4:7). This power of God was demonstrated through his weakness and suffering, and that his sufferings were not a hindrance for the progress of the gospel (Lim, 100–4). This is followed by a catalog of hardships embodied in a series of four powerful antithetical statements (4:8–9) where Paul highlights the sufferings he endured, yet he was not defeated by these sufferings: He was afflicted in every way, but not crushed. He was perplexed, but not driven to despair. He was persecuted, yet he was certain God has not forsaken him. He was struck down, but not destroyed. It is interesting that Paul uses the word nekrōsis instead of the more common thanatos in reference to Jesus’s death in 4:10. Most likely in this context, the word carries the meaning of the process of dying, and is best translated as “dying of Jesus” (NASB; Harris, 346). This phrase can be understood on two levels (Thrall, I:334–35). The first level is the experiential level where Paul uses this phrase to interpret his ongoing experiences of being afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, and struck down as highlighted in 4:8–9. He draws upon the dying of Jesus in understanding his own apostolic sufferings. On the second level, carrying the dying of Jesus is a reality that has a revelatory character where the sufferings he endured were a manifestation of the resurrected life of Jesus (4:10–11). It is precisely in this manner that Paul’s ministry exhibited the paradox between weakness and power, and lowliness and exaltation that were also found in the life of Christ (see Phil 2:5–11). The idea of dying/death and life also appears three times in 4:7–12, suggesting that this is a dominant theme in Paul’s thought. He makes it clear that his sufferings were for the sake of the Corinthians. Death was at work in him while life was at work in the Corinthians (4:12). By stating the positive benefits of his sufferings for the sake of the Corinthians (4:13–15), Paul wants them to comprehend that his apostolic life experiences mirrored the message of the gospel that centers on the death and resurrection of Christ. Through his hardships, Paul demonstrates that he was the living manifestation and public demonstration of the gospel, the revelation of Jesus Christ who was crucified and raised to life, and this was the hope that motivated Paul in his apostolic mission (4:16–18). (5:1–10) Paul Confronts the Present Reality After dealing with his sufferings, Paul now shifts his attention to the tension he faced as he was confronted with the present reality of his afflictions. Paul recognizes the reality of his body wasting away as a result of the harsh sufferings he had endured and he moves on to consider the eschatological hope he had. He compares what is temporal on earth to what is permanent in the heavenly dwelling (5:1). He also expresses his longing to have his earthly clothing stripped away and to be clothed with one that is heavenly (5:2–5), to the extent that he preferred to be away from his mortal body (5:8). Yet, Paul makes it clear whether living or dying, it is his aim to please the Lord in light of the eschatological judgment (5:10). What matters most for Paul was not how long (5:6–8) but how one lived in the body as everyone must account for his or her own life before the judgment seat of Christ (5:10). The judgment seat, a raised platform from which governors could issue decrees or pronounce judgments, was common in many Greco-Roman cities. An impressive judgment seat has been 336

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excavated in Corinth (cf. Acts 18:12). The use of this language might challenge the Corinthians, causing them to reflect on their way of life. Paul had already emphasized how one’s behavior in the present had eternal consequences, and the Corinthians were to consider carefully how they lived their life as a reflection of their salient “in Christ” identity. (5:11–15) Paul Warns on Placing Emphasis on Worldly Appearance In 5:11–13, Paul begins by affirming that he was already known to God and expresses his hope that he was also known to the conscience of the Corinthians so that they might be able to answer those who questioned them. He was mindful of the criticism that his apostleship lacked any form of authenticity such as public displays of ecstasy and power (5:12). In response, Paul brushes off the importance of ecstatic experiences and emphasizes his apostleship based on the preaching of the gospel of Christ and the care of those who were Christ-followers (5:11–13), establishing his common identity with the Corinthians. This is followed by the creedal confession affirming the redemptive work of Christ and his personal obligation to preach the gospel (5:14–15). It is after this that Paul emphasizes once again the radical newness brought about by being in Christ. Because of this, he would not regard the Christ-followers according to worldly standards (5:16). He is concerned that the Corinthians were already judging him according to worldly standards by aligning themselves with the opponents. This is seen in the manner in which the Corinthians were judging Paul and his apostleship, based on what was outward rather than what was within (5:12). The only way forward to transform the cognitive evaluation of the Corinthians from worldly standards is to remind them that any evaluation had to be done according to their “in Christ” identity which is the very heart of the gospel of Paul (cf. 1 Cor 2:1–5). (5:16–21) Paul’s Emphasis on New Creation in Christ as Social Identity 2 Cor 5:17 is Paul’s strongest statement concerning social identity formation in his letters to the Corinthians. Since the composition of 1 Corinthians, further developments had taken place threatening Paul’s vision of establishing an alternative community with a distinct ethos in comparison with other assemblies in Roman Corinth. There was now an urgent need for Paul to reinforce further the social implications of the gospel and the formation of Christian identity in Corinth, failing which, the very existence of the Corinthian Christ-movement might be severely in doubt. Because of this, Paul introduces two new dimensions in the Corinthian social identity formation in 5:17: the notion of “new creation” and a temporal comparison. While the notion of “in Christ” within the Pauline corpus is widely used, the idea of “new creation” is rarely mentioned. Apart from 5:17, the other occurrence of “new creation” is found in Gal 6:15. The prevailing understanding of the conception of “new creation” can be broadly classified into three categories. First, Paul’s understanding of new creation incorporates the anthropologically focused promises of the new heart and new spirit in Jer 31:31–34 and Ezek 36:26–27, suggesting that new creation is the altered nature of the converted person or the newness that is brought about by God’s action, drawing similarity from the motif of conversion in literature from Hellenistic Judaism such as Jub. 1:7–29; 23:11–32 and Jos. Asen. 8:9. Secondly, the understanding of new creation is also drawn from a cosmological perspective. Drawing predominantly from the background of the Isaianic passages (see Isa 42:9; 43:18–19; 45:17; 48:6; 65:17–18; 66:22), new creation constitutes cosmic renewal with the dawning of the new age. Finally, Jewish apocalyptic literature also contributes to the understanding of new creation.

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Viewed from this eschatological perspective, new creation is understood as the dawning of the new age which stands over the present evil age. These views on the conception of new creation remain firmly focused on Paul’s theology. The major weakness of this line of thought is that insufficient attention is given to the social reality of Paul’s community. The concept of “new creation” suggests that one’s identity is transformed in Christ. The old identity needs to be reconfigured in light of the gospel of Christ. The worldly standards are to be evaluated in light of the gospel of Christ. The question here is, why was there a need for Paul to declare that the Corinthians were “new creation”? What was Paul aiming to accomplish by using “new creation” in identity formation? For Paul, a “new creation” is not only about the whole process of the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit leading to repentance and faith or the continual growth in holiness leading to conformity to the image of Christ. The “new creation” is more than that—it is the new community that allows their previous social identities to be transformed in light of the gospel. This is a new community that has done away with the artificial barriers of circumcision and uncircumcision in which the relationship of different ethnic groups needs to be redefined in light of the universal nature of the gospel. In other words, a new community comprising both Jews and gentiles and different social strata is now formed and the “new creation” identity further underscores the uniqueness of this alternative assembly that Paul is establishing against the other assemblies found in the Roman Empire. It is interesting that Paul also introduces a temporal comparison after declaring that the Corinthians are a “new creation” in Christ. He further expounds the idea that “the old has gone, the new has come.” It is significant to note that in both instances, in Galatians and in 2 Corinthians, when Paul promotes the notion of “new creation,” it is within a context of deep conflict. In Galatians, the conflict was with the discussion of the national boundary markers of Israel— circumcision, Sabbath, and food laws—that deal with the ethnicity and cultural boundaries of the Jews to the exclusion of others. In 2 Corinthians, the context includes both the conflicts Paul has with the Corinthians and the external opposition parties. By introducing the temporal aspect in his argument, Paul issues a challenge to the Corinthians to evaluate their current status “in Christ” (which is “the new”) against their own past (which is “the old”) that is shaped by their Roman civic identity that regards others according to worldly standards (5:16). The underlying question is this: Is the current group behavior of the Corinthians compatible with their new identity in Christ as a new creation where the old is gone, and the new has come? If not, this temporal comparison, a process of judging the present status of the Corinthians against their own past, serves as a useful tool to examine whether they are truly a new creation in Christ. If what they were now was incompatible with their status as being in Christ as a new creation, then decisive actions needed to be taken to align themselves to it. As members of this new creation, their identity should reflect that of the gospel of Christ. The old boundary markers and the worldly standards in evaluating others were to be removed. As in 1 Corinthians, Paul is also concerned in 2 Corinthians with the transformation of cognitive and rational capacities with regard to social identity in Corinth. Paul calls for a more serious evaluation of those cognitive processes rooted in the Greco-Roman conventions that contradicted the social implications of the gospel. After declaring the new identity of the Christ-followers as “new creation,” Paul moves on to deal with the theme of reconciliation in 5:18–19. Paul clearly states that reconciliation is first and foremost to God, and it is only after this that he proceeds to talk about reconciliation 338

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between the Corinthian Christ-followers and himself. This “new creation” identity fulfills his agenda in wanting to reinforce the commonality between him and the Corinthians. By doing so, Paul further draws the Corinthians away from the rivals, thus presenting that there is hardly any common ground between him and the rivals. By associating with the rivals, the Corinthians were moving away from their “in-Christ-new-creation” identity. Paul’s apostolic ministry is further spelled out by declaring that he is an ambassador for Christ (5:20). An ambassador represents the political entity that commissions the person to speak and act not only on behalf but also in place of the authority. As such, as an ambassador not appointed by any human authorities (cf. Gal 1:1, 12) but by Christ himself, Paul serves as a channel for God to speak through him to the Corinthians on behalf of Christ that they reconciled to God (5:20). It is striking that the phrase “on behalf of Christ” appears twice in 5:20, signifying not only that Paul is an ambassador on behalf of Christ, but that his proclamation of the gospel was also carried out on behalf of Christ (cf. 2 Cor 12:10, Phil 1:29). The content of Paul’s gospel is the story of Jesus expressed in 5:21. (6:1–2) Paul, the Co-Worker in the Ministry of Reconciliation After declaring his ambassadorial role, Paul continues to identify himself as a co-worker in the ministry of reconciliation and appeal to the Corinthians not to accept God’s grace in vain (6:1). With whom was Paul working together? It is not explicitly stated, and some English translations assume that Paul was working together with God (NIV, TEV, and NLT. Cf. the ambiguous translations of KJV, NKJV, RSV, and NRSV by inserting “with him”). However, there is a possibility of seeing Paul as the co-worker of Jesus Christ (Lim, 126–28). This reading makes better sense in the flow of thought since Paul talked about him being the ambassador of Christ in 5:20. In addition, this also corresponds with Paul’s subsequent appeal to the Corinthians in 6:1 as a co-worker of Christ. After establishing himself as a co-worker with Christ, Paul appeals to the Corinthians not to accept the grace of God in vain (6:1). This is the third time Paul is appealing to the Corinthians (see 5:11 and 5:20), signifying the urgency of his message. In what ways could the Corinthians be said to receive God’s grace in vain? Taking the wider passage into consideration, there is a strong link of broken relationships between the Corinthians and Paul, and the failure of the Corinthians in recognizing Paul’s apostleship for what it was—a mission from God as an ambassador of Christ in effecting reconciliation. As Paul had already argued, his apostolic ministry could not be separated from God’s act of reconciliation, and as such, to reject the ambassador was to reject the one who sent him, and to renounce Paul because of his suffering was to renounce Christ. In other words, the Corinthians were at risk of rejecting the very gospel they earlier embraced through Paul. In order to drive home the point that his suffering should not be considered an offense but integral to and embedded in his calling as a servant of God (6:3–10), Paul now appeals to the Scripture in his argument by quoting LXX Isa 49:8, widely known as part of the second Servant Passage in Isaiah (Isa 49:1–13), and seeing himself as analogous to the role of the Isaianic Servant in calling the Corinthians to recognize the appointed favorable time and day of salvation by responding positively to it. (6:3–13) Paul’s Commendation through Hardships Seeing his ministry as a continuation of the role of the servant of the Lord, Paul pays particular attention to carrying out his ministry

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by placing no obstacle whatsoever in anyone’s way so that his ministry—ministry of a “new covenant” (3:8), “the ministry of the Spirit” (3:8), “the ministry of righteousness” (3:9), and “the ministry of reconciliation” (5:18)—may not be discredited by the Corinthians and his opponents (6:3). Paul clearly understands that the message and the messenger are inseparable. To put it negatively, any inappropriate behavior on the part of the messenger would adversely affect the message; and positively, the embodiment of the message expressed in his life not only enhances the credibility of the gospel but also demonstrates the power of the message. For Paul, the life of the messenger which is improper and inconsistent with the message of the gospel will hinder the progress of the gospel (Harris, 469). Paul moves to present himself positively as an apostle who suffered for the sake of the Corinthians. Paul does not follow the usual social convention by self-recommending his apostleship based on external appearances and the expectations of others (cf. 10:12). In this catalog of suffering, Paul demonstrates what was integral to the life and calling of the servant of the gospel that embodied the story of Jesus. The literary structure that contains the list of hardships in 6:4–10 is not only highly impressive but systematically structured with its powerful and eloquent rhetorical impact. The catalog is introduced by the phrase “through great endurance” followed by a list of nine hardships; eight virtues; three phrases introduced by the Greek preposition dia, and finally, seven antitheses. The list of nine hardships moves from general statements to specific hardships. The first triad is set in general terms describing Paul’s sufferings: afflictions, hardships, and calamities. This is followed by the second set which provides specific examples of the sufferings inflicted on Paul in the course of his apostolic ministry: beatings, imprisonments, and riots. The third triad wraps up the final set that further enumerates physical hardships that accompany Paul including labors, sleepless nights, and hunger. These threefold repetitions of his sufferings set out in different descriptions and varying degrees of difficulty are meant to indicate the comprehensive and extensive nature of Paul’s sufferings that he endures for the sake of the gospel, covering both external and internal distresses. All these nine items are in the plurals, suggesting the intensity, fullness, totality, and multiplicity of these hardships. This list, as in the earlier catalog in 4:8–9, speaks of Paul’s hardships as a reality and those that he must endure as a minister of God and an ambassador of Christ. Its graphic account of Paul’s intense suffering coupled with the asyndetic construction result in the rhetorical effect of increasing amplification. The technique that Paul is using here has sometimes been identified as enargeia which aims to give amplification by using vivid examples and illustration in order to create a mental picture in the audience (Lim, 144). This would have created in the readers a sense of amazement and surprise about the intensity of Paul’s sufferings for the Corinthians. Following this list of hardships, Paul speaks of his moral integrity structured in a pair of tetrads (6:6–7). He insists that his conduct as God’s servant and Christ’s ambassador did not cause any offense that hindered the Corinthians from accepting God’s grace. In wrapping up his hardships list, Paul presents a series of three additional phrases highlighting his sufferings (6:7) and seven antithetical statements (6:8–10) in a similar fashion with those found in 4:8–9. These antitheses highlight the cumulative effect of surprise where Paul presents himself as someone in a series of negative descriptions: he was not a deceiver, but he was unknown, dying, punished, sorrowful, poor, and possessed nothing. However, this is not the whole story as 340

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there is another positive side to the description: He was true, well-known, lived, rejoiced, made many rich, and possessed everything in Christ. Despite all the negative circumstances, God’s power is at the same time working in Paul. Once the ground is clear that no fault may be found in his ministry, Paul launches into his appeal to the Corinthians for reconciliation (6:11–13). He uses terms of endearment to plead with the Corinthians and expresses his affection for them publicly so that they could be reconciled with him. He does so by appealing to the metaphor of the paterfamilias in declaring his affection for them. However, the Corinthians were withholding their affection from him (6:12). Like a father pleading with a wayward son, Paul entreats the Corinthians that in return or exchange, they should open wide their hearts to him. Paul’s choice of words is careful and deliberate here. In asking the Corinthians to reciprocate what is rightly due for him as their father, he places them in a position of being indebted to him. In that position, the Corinthians have a moral obligation as children to give back to their father honor, respect, and love as there is no way they could ever repay their debt to Paul for sacrificing and raising them up in Christ. The highest honor children can give to their father includes paying heed to his advice. By opening wide their hearts to Paul, the Corinthians would not only be acknowledging Paul as their father but be treating his advice as worthy of being followed. Using a familial metaphor, Paul entreats the Corinthians to carefully evaluate their actions and allegiance, a theme that is repeated in 7:2–4. He also reinforces the Corinthians’ identity as members of a family that should be characterized by love, acceptance, and reconciliation. If God has reconciled them to Christ and to one another, how could they, by withholding their affection, be estranged from their apostle who was their father in Christ? By doing so, Paul now turns the table on them for it is no longer the nature of his ministry that is at stake, but their faith if they choose to reject him because of his weakness and sufferings (Hafemann, 79–80). (6:14–7:1) Paul’s Warning against Being Identified with Outsiders This section seems to interrupt the flow of 6:11–13 which naturally resumes in 7:2–3. It contains vocabulary that is judged as non-Pauline in nature. In addition, the series of citations from Scripture (Lev 26:12; Isa 52:11; Ezek 20:34; 2 Sam 7:14) are also not found elsewhere in the Pauline corpus. As a result, this has raised doubts on the authenticity of this this section. Some see this section to be an “antiPauline fragment” (Betz, 88–108) while others a “deliberative digression” that supports the unity of 2 Corinthians (Witherington III, 402). Paul begins with a strong imperative in 6:14: “Do not be mismatched with unbelievers.” He is urging the Corinthians to live up to their status as a community of Christ-followers by drawing clear social boundaries that demarcated their compromising relationship with those outside the community. He insists that the community of Christ-followers must be kept pure. By negatively labeling those outside the community, Paul attempts to drive home his point that there was clear distinction between the Christ-followers and those outside the community. The theme of holiness emerges with greater intensity with Paul’s charging the believers of being “unequally yoked” with those outside the Christ community. To provoke the Corinthians to evaluate their relationship with outsiders, Paul appeals to temple imagery by declaring in 6:16: “For we are the temple of the living God.” Here, Paul’s use of the temple metaphor comes immediately after a series of five rhetorical questions formulated in an antithetical fashion that demonstrates the incompatibility of relationships between Christ-followers and pagans. Each pair 341

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speaks of the mutually exclusive relationships standing in direct and stark opposition between the “insider” and “outsider” respectively, as seen in the following diagram: righteousness

against

lawlessness

light

against

darkness

Christ

against

Beliar

believers

against

unbelievers

temple of God

against

temple of idols

The declaration that the Christ-followers were the temple of God (6:16) further justifies the separation of incompatible relationships. This is further elaborated by a direct command (6:17–18) and an exhortation to purity and holiness (7:1). It is significant to note that in 6:17, Paul’s command to the Corinthians requires them to “come out from them, and be separate from them . . . and touch nothing unclean” before they could be welcomed by God. The idea of “come out” and “be separate” depicts spatial movement from one sphere to another, and this denotes that there must be a clear distinction and separation between the people of God and the outsiders (Guthrie, 356). Paul’s language here also clearly highlights the fact that the more positively outsiders are esteemed, the more positive conformity with them is valued. As can be seen from Paul’s call to preserve purity of the community by expelling the sinful brother (1 Cor 5:1–13) and shunning sexual immorality (1 Cor 6:18), purity and holiness were the social boundaries that defined the Corinthians believers from the rest of the society. Paul’s urgent tone suggests there is a pressing need to correct the behavior of the Christfollowers. Already there were disunity and dissention and numerous other problems and issues of nonconformity affecting the unrepentant and recalcitrant community, summed up in 12:20–21. Paul could not afford to allow the nonconformity of those Christ-followers to continue persistently. The community was to separate themselves from anything that would bring defilement to the temple and detach themselves from any continuing involvement with any behavior and practices that were incongruous with their new identity as the people of God and members of the new temple. Thus, he makes a desperate cry by appealing to the temple metaphor to urge the Christfollowers to align themselves to the value of the gospel of Christ, without which the very existence of the Christ community as an alternative assembly would be at stake and its life and witness severely compromised. In using temple imagery, Paul is promoting positive group identity and moral standards that were compatible with their new status in Christ. A temple must remain pure if God is to be present, and this means that the members must preserve strict standards of behavior that reflects the attributes of the dwelling deity. This is to encourage behavior that does not negatively impact the well-being of the holy community in which the Spirit of God dwells. In this respect, Paul was challenging the Corinthians to evaluate their relationships with the outsiders. It is worthwhile observing that Paul casts his opinion of the outsiders in 6:14–7:1 in an extreme negative and condescending manner, calling them “unbelievers” twice in 6:14 and 15. This only magnifies Paul’s rhetorical force in highlighting the fact that the Corinthians as a social group was to be distinct from those outside the community. As the temple of the living God, they were to be a community comprising Christ-followers who devoted themselves to God and to one another, and separated themselves from the “unbelievers.” 342

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Paul ends this section with a call to cleanse oneself from defilement and to make holiness perfect (7:1). By separating themselves from the “unbelievers,” the Corinthians could begin to change their thinking and behavior. Paul’s focus in identity formation ends with a positive tone, with a stronger emphasis on their identity in Christ by applying temple imagery to the Corinthians. This provides a decisive identity marker for them as they consider and evaluate the relationship of the community to competitive forces outside the community. (7:2–16) Paul’s Appeal for Reconciliation Finally, Paul appeals to the Corinthians to be open once again to him, clearly stating that he had not acted adversely against them (7:2), assuring them his deep affection for them (7:3), and having great pride for them (7:3). The use of strong emotional language appeals to the emotions of the Corinthians, urging them to consider the deep love Paul had for them to the extent of willing to care and suffer for them. Paul then picks up the narrative he left off earlier (2:13) in 7:5–16. In the midst of emotional anxiety and physical sufferings, the arrival of Titus brought Paul much joy and comfort (7:5–6). Paul was relieved that Titus brought good news from the Corinthians that they had repented for their misgivings about Paul, and that they too longed for restoration with him (7:12). Paul rejoiced and felt justified about the “painful letter” he wrote that brought about this change of behavior in the Corinthians (7:8, cf. 2:3–4). At the same time, Paul also rejoiced with Titus, seeing the joy and the acceptance accorded to him by the Corinthians (7:13–16). For Paul, if the Corinthians were able to accept Titus, a representative sent by him, they were able to be reconciled to him. The cordial treatment of Titus by the Corinthians also speaks volumes on how the Corinthians thought of Paul. Toward this end, Paul reiterates how they realized their mistake and how the relationship could now be restored (7:16). With this positive note, Paul moves on to address one matter close to his heart that he would like the Corinthians to complete: the collection for the Jerusalem church.

Paul’s Appeal to Complete the Jerusalem Collection (8:1–9:15) In 2 Cor 8–9, Paul wishes to ensure that the Corinthians fulfill a prior commitment they made concerning the relief fund for Jerusalem (1 Cor 16:1–4). For Paul, organizing a major relief fund for the poor in Jerusalem was no easy task. The considerable amount of time, energy, and resources spent in organizing this collection is evident from his comments about the project elsewhere in 1 Cor 16:1–4 and Rom 15:25–32. In 1 Cor 16:1–4, Paul lays down clear instructions for the Corinthians concerning the logistics of the collection. However, these instructions were ignored by the Corinthians possibly due to the deteriorating relationship between them and Paul. With the relationship restored (7:7–11), Paul uses the opportunity inviting the Corinthians to honor their commitment to the Jerusalem collection. Paul begins by emphasizing the example of the Macedonians who had generously contributed to the fund despite their extreme poverty and literally begged him to accept their gift despite their having greater need for the money (8:1–5). This act of generosity was a result of the Macedonians giving themselves first of all to the Lord, and then also to Paul (8:6). Following this, Paul then appeals to the paradigmatic grace of Jesus in 8:9. In retelling the story of Jesus, Paul is attempting to inculcate in the Corinthians behavior that he wishes them 343

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to emulate. Jesus himself is the model or prototype for generous giving, whose self-lowering takes the movement from one extreme to another: from being rich to being poor. By evoking the story of Jesus, Paul is attempting the recategorization of both the gentile and Jewish Christfollowers into a common ingroup. What used to divide (the old) is now gone, and a new identity reconfigured around the central belief that Jesus is the Christ unites the ethnically and culturally divided Christ-followers in both Corinth and Jerusalem into a “new creation” with a common identity “in Christ” (cf. 5:17). With this new common identity, Paul is able to continue to challenge the Corinthian Christ-followers to give generously to the Jerusalem poor by looking out for the interests of others (8:10–12). The notion of having the interests of others in mind in giving generously is further developed in 8:13–15. Paul makes it clear that he is not seeking a role reversal of rich and poor, but equality or fairness. Paul recognizes that there were extremes of wealth and poverty, and this was not acceptable in the Christian community. Those who had a surplus should contribute to those who had needs, according to the proportion that the individuals had, and not a fixed percentage for everyone. Closing the gap between the rich and poor in the body of Christ was needed to ensure that no one had any lack. The needs of the poor were to be met out of the surplus of others. At the same time, Paul is also traversing sensitively through the intricacies of the GrecoRoman conventions. The protocol of gift giving in the Corinthians’ culture dictates that the one who gives more generously than others will gain the superior status while others move down the rung in the social ladder. This explains why Paul makes it clear that the Corinthians’ surplus will now meet the needs of the poor so that their needs may one day be met by the Jerusalem saints (8:14). By stressing the notion of reciprocity, Paul underscores that no one should outgive one another in order to attain a higher status over the other, but should give out of a cheerful and willing heart. In 8:16–23, Paul provides a heartfelt commendation of Titus and two other believers, one appointed by the churches and the other by Paul himself (8:16–23). Paul sends them to Corinth because he wants to avoid any complaints regarding the handling of the collection (8:20–21) and also to ensure that the Corinthians complete the collection as a demonstration of their love and Paul’s positive boast about them (8:25). To challenge the Corinthians further, Paul reiterates that both he and the Corinthians would be shamed if the Macedonians found out that the collection was left unfinished by the Corinthians (9:1–5). Then Paul evokes an agrarian metaphor suggesting that all giving to the Jerusalem collection was like sowing seed that would reap a harvest. Finally, Paul underscores that true generosity was also a direct result of the confession of the gospel of Christ. This generosity would also bring about thanksgiving and praise to God from the recipients of the collection (9:6–15) for the obedience that accompanies the Corinthians’ confession of the gospel of Christ, and for their generosity in sharing with others (9:13). The “obedience” that Paul refers to in 9:13 is most likely the obedience to the working out of the gospel of Christ, a gospel that demands that believers should help to provide for the needs of those both inside and outside of the family of God. If the Corinthians followed through with generosity on their commitment and involvement in the Jerusalem relief fund, it demonstrates that the dividing lines of racial and social classes had indeed been broken down in Christ. As part of their confession of the gospel of Christ, the generous gift that the Corinthians gave constitutes a concrete gesture of love that speaks of the unity of the body of Christ. Indeed a “new creation” is one where “there is neither Jew nor Greek, 344

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slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal: 3:28). This is evident that the gospel of Jesus Christ ultimately brings reconciliation to those who were once strangers and enemies, a powerful social change and influence in the Greco-Roman world.

Paul’s Sufferings and the Corinthians (2 Cor 10:1–13:13) Paul had addressed some problems in the community in chs 1–9, and the tone thus far had been conciliatory and hopeful. In contrast to these earlier chapters, a marked difference in the tone in chs 10–13 has been widely recognized where some of the most sarcastic and harsh words could be found here. This has led to the debate concerning the integrity of the letter and whether chs 10–13 constitute a separate letter, whether written earlier or later to chs 1–9. As discussed earlier, composition of letters, especially with the length like that of 2 Corinthians, would not have taken place in a single sitting, and some shift of tone, topic, and mood should be allowed, especially if further developments surrounding the context of the Corinthians would have reached Paul. However, if examined closely, there are many similarities between chs 1–9 and 10–13, especially on treatment on Paul’s sufferings and weakness, suggesting unity of theme. (10:1–6) Paul’s Appeal Grounded in the Identity of Christ Paul begins 10:1with an appeal similar in tone with his earlier appeals in 5:20 and 6:1. However, the urgency in 10:1 is extraordinarily emphatic with the mention of his name and the first personal pronoun (Barnett, 457). Paul’s appeal is grounded in the meekness and gentleness of Christ, where he probably had in mind the manner in which Jesus acted and behaved during his life on earth, similar to his earlier references to the life of Jesus in 4:10–11; 5:21; 6:9–10; and 8:9 (cf. Phil 2:5–11). What is interesting is that Paul chooses the attributes of “meekness and gentleness” in 10:1 as the identity of Christ. These traits were not associated with masculinity and were virtues considered alien in the Greco-Roman culture. In this respect, Paul is not drawing from the social identity rooted in the Roman civic identity that the Corinthians were familiar with, but from divine standards of behavior that were rooted in the person and character of Christ. Another clue that supports this argument is found in Paul’s description of the criticism leveled against him—that he was humble (tapeinos) when present with the Corinthians but bold when he is away (10:1–2; cf. 10:10). Tapeinos is a derogatory term carrying negative connotations such as “servile,” “abject,” “pliant,” and “inferior,” denoting shameful qualities that would make one lose face in the Greco-Roman world (BDAG, s.v.). This accurately describes the perception Paul’s opponents had of him in 10:10 (cf. 11:7). Humility is precisely how Paul characterizes himself when he boasted of the things that showed his weaknesses (11:30), things perceived to be derogatory and humiliating in the eyes of the Corinthians. However negatively the Corinthians or the rivals may have viewed him, Paul wishes to establish the fact right at the beginning of his appeal that his apostolic ministry is grounded in the very identity of Jesus, and this sets the tone for his subsequent argument. By recalling Christ’s own character, Paul is drawing out his conformity to his Lord and his willingness to surrender himself to weaknesses and sufferings through meekness and gentleness. At the same time, he is reminding the Corinthians that they were making a serious mistake if they find fault with him because of his humility. Instead, what is incompatible with the meekness 345

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and gentleness of Christ is human boasting grounded in the confidence of the flesh (10:12–18; 11:17–18). Because of this, Paul denounces all arguments and every lofty opinion against the knowledge of God by taking every thought captive in obedience to Christ (10:3–6). (10:7–18) Paul Boasts in the Lord Paul turns to address some of the charges leveled against him by his opponents. He claims that they charged him with being a charlatan because he was bold in his writing but behaved differently in person. He was weak in his physical appearance and had poor oratorical skills (10:9–11). In responding to this charge, Paul claims that he was honest and transparent before the community (10:7). He describes his ministry as one that built up the community, and not one that destroyed like the false apostles (10:8). He also takes issue with those who measured and compared themselves with one another and calls them people “without understanding” (10:12). He also warns the community of the danger in being persuaded by the opponents whom he labels as false apostles (11:4–5). In doing so, Paul is clearly drawing boundaries between himself and the opponents. He is faced with the difficulty of navigating the cultural expectations required for determining what constituted a public performance of an orator and his convictions. The Corinthians might have felt that Paul had abandoned too many of the social conventions and cultural expectations of the day, such as rejecting the use of letters of recommendation (3:1–3). In 10:12–16, the theme of boasting comes to the fore. Paul argues that his boasting is reflected in the sphere of ministry that has been given to him by God. In a series of negative clauses, Paul describes what constitutes illegitimate boasting (10:12–15) and distances himself from the opponents who attacked his credibility, implying that they boasted inappropriately. Paul concludes by quoting from LXX Jer 9:22–23 in 10:17. In the context of 10:17, Paul associates the act of boasting with self-commendation. For Paul, self-commendation, the possession of letter of commendation, polished rhetoric, and impressive appearance never constitutes the legitimate ground for boasting. Only those who boast in the Lord and one who is commended by the Lord is the legitimate servant of the Lord (10:18). (11:1–15) Paul as a Father Who Protects His Children When confronted with the “super apostles” (11:5) who attempted to drive a wedge between Paul and the Corinthians by leveling accusations against him (10:1–11:6), he responds by taking on the role of a father in 11:2. As one who was jealous with the jealousy of God, possibly drawing from the attributes of the God of Israel as a jealous God (Exod 20:5; 34:14), Paul plays the role of guarding and protecting the dignity of the daughters before they are given in marriage. By doing so, he speaks as a concerned father, expressing his deep love and care for his daughters and their future. Paul fears the virgin daughters might be inappropriately violated by seducers lurking around in their midst. This metaphor is a powerful means of communicating the danger surrounding the Corinthians if they did not ward off their seducers, the super apostles (11:5; 13). As such, the Corinthians owed their obedience and allegiance to Paul, and not to the super apostles. For Paul, there is no common ground between the Corinthians and the super apostles. By evoking his emotional ties with the Corinthians, Paul pictures himself as a jealous father who loved them (11:11) and wanted the best for them, not only by guarding them from outsiders but also by exposing his opponents as not having the welfare of the Corinthians at heart as a father would. This puts the Corinthians in a situation that in return, they must honor their father and not shame him.

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(11:16–12:13) Paul as a Fool This section is dominated by what is commonly referred to as “Fool’s Speech” where Paul seemingly takes over the role of a fool in his speech, a common social convention of the Greco-Roman world. Many rhetorical devices are evident here including paradox, irony, sarcasm, and play of words among others. While Paul clearly rejects operating according to worldly standards, he seems to be doing exactly what he said he would not do. Yet, in doing so, Paul interestingly turns the tables against the opponents and uses his skills to navigate through the topic on his weakness and suffering by using Greco-Roman social convention. (11:16–21) Paul as a Fool in Boasting What is clear is that Paul’s opponents practiced some kind of boasting (11:12, 18, 21) concerning: (1) their Jewish heritage (11:21–23); (2) their boldness and achievements as servants of Christ (10:12–16); (3) their rhetorical eloquence (10:10); and (4) the miraculous signs and wonders they performed (12:11–12). They had also challenged the nature of Paul’s apostolic authority (10:8) on at least several grounds: (1) his weak appearance and his less than eloquent preaching (10:10; 11:6); (2) his refusal to accept financial support and his labor as an artisan to support himself (11:7–11); and (3) his lack of letters of recommendation (3:1; 12:11) (Savage, 54–99). The interplay of these issues suggests that the opponents were boasting about their superiority against Paul (cf. 11:5; 12:11), resulting in Paul’s strained relationship with the Corinthians concerning his concept and nature of apostolic ministry. What then is the standard that the opponents used in boasting of their superiority against Paul? The clue Paul provides is that they measured themselves by themselves and compared themselves with themselves (10:12) by employing the encomiastic topics parading physical appearance, education, and achievements—a familiar Hellenistic social convention that the Corinthians readily recognized and accepted. By boasting about these encomiastic topics, the opponents could easily match Paul’s Jewish pedigree (11:23). However, Paul failed to match up to them and to the current acceptable standard of Hellenistic rhetorical skills, physical appearance, and achievements required of any public speaker or leader (cf. 1 Cor 1:17, 18–25; 27–31; 2:1–5, 6–7). When confronted with this widely accepted practice of boasting in one’s honor, Paul has no choice but to respond to it by grounding his argument in the Scripture as his warrant for legitimate boasting (10:12–17). Then he moves on to boast of the things that show his weaknesses, a practice that in the eyes of both the opponents and the Corinthians are to Paul’s discredit (11:23–12:13). Finally, Paul demonstrates that his suffering and weaknesses are not dishonorable but are grounded in the story of Jesus, for Jesus himself was crucified in weakness (13:4). By doing so, Paul not only exposes the folly but also reverses the effects of the Hellenistic boasting which he considers illegitimate. At the same time, Paul also seeks to bring about a conversion of the understanding of the Corinthians concerning his apostolic ministry by charging these super apostles with preaching “another Jesus . . . a different spirit . . . a different gospel” (11:4) and labeling them as “false apostles, deceitful workers, masquerading as apostles of Christ” (11:13), probably the most negative cognitive evaluation Paul could ever give to anyone. (11:22–12:13) Paul’s Boast of His Weaknesses Paul makes no attempt to match the boasting of the opponents according to their yardstick of measuring achievements or superiority which include boasting of boldness (10:12–16), missionary success, eloquence (10:10), and miraculous signs and wonders (12:11–12). Instead, Paul boasts of his weaknesses, which were his sufferings, the very things deplored by the Corinthians in authenticating his ministry (Barnett, 534). This

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passage, the most personal, intense, and theologically developed section on his sufferings in 2 Corinthians, is structured by the theme of Paul’s boasting in his weaknesses (11:30; cf. 12:1, 5, 9), illustrated by a series of narratives comprising: (1) an extended list of hardships (11:22–29); (2) his humiliating escape from Damascus (11:30–33); (3) the heavenly ascent without the anticipated revelation (12:1–6); and (4) the affliction of the “thorn in the flesh” (12:7–9). A summary statement in 12:10–13 further reinforces the assertion that Paul’s weaknesses and sufferings were experienced on behalf of Christ. This statement provides the Christological foundation for Paul’s understanding of his sufferings and weakness that is further elaborated in 13:4. (11:22–30) Paul’s Boast as a Better Servant of Christ Demonstrated through Sufferings Before he begins his catalog of hardships, Paul lists a series of three rhetorical questions concerning his Jewish heritage: “Are they Hebrews?” “Are they Israelites?” “Are they descendants of Abraham?”—all demanding an affirmative answer (11:22). This gives the readers the impression that Paul is not inferior to the opponents since these epithets were honorific titles describing the religious privileges of the Jews. At the same time, they also heighten the expectation that following this declaration, Paul will prove his superiority. This expectation climaxes when Paul emphatically declares that he was a better servant compared to the opponents (11:23). If Paul sets out by declaring his boldness in boasting, proceeds by establishing his equality through his Jewish heritage and pedigree, and emphatically claims superiority as a servant of Christ, then one would expect him to list impressive credentials and personal achievements to reinforce such grand claims. But in a surprising twist, Paul deflates the worldly expectations of his readers by providing the most descriptive and extensive list containing twenty-six items of his sufferings unparalleled elsewhere in his writings. The listing of his sufferings and weaknesses (cf. 11:30; 12:1, 5, 9) in such a fashion was shocking to the readers. What is even more striking is that there is no mention of the success in founding new Christ-believing communities, the number of gentiles won over to Christ, the miracles that he performed, the vast geographical coverage of his gentile mission (e.g., Rom 15:7; 1 Cor 15:31; 2 Cor 1:14; 7:4; 8:24; Phil 2:16; 4:1; 1 Thess 2:19–20), or his Jewish pedigree and qualifications (Phil 3:3–6; Gal 1:14). Paul’s catalog of hardship (11:23–29) is rhetorically impressive, and covers various aspects of his sufferings including both Jewish and Roman punishments, physical labors, dangers in his travels, experiences of death, threats from various parties, physical deprivation, and the daily pressure of his concern for the believing communities and individuals. This hardship list further expands on his earlier lists in 1:3–11; 2:14–16; 4:7–12 and 6:3–10. What does Paul aim to achieve in enumerating his hardships? Some have pointed out that Paul’s appeal to specific statistical count of his sufferings (11:24–25) mirrors the practice of the Romans in parading their great exploits such as those found in the Res Gestae Divi Augusti (Witherington III, 438, 444, 450–52). In the case of Caesar Augustus, the Res Gestae Divi Augusti highlights what he wished to be regarded as the leading glory of his reign. This is certainly not Paul’s ambition in enumerating his sufferings. The Roman practice is to highlight one’s achievement, while in Paul, it is to highlight his sufferings and weaknesses; for the Romans, it is done to achieve honor while for Paul, it is dishonor. Therefore, it needs to be firmly recognized that the hardship list in 11:23–29 demonstrates that it was Paul’s weaknesses that set him apart from his opponents. Instead of conforming to the cultural expectation of his day in boasting of one’s credentials and achievements, Paul 348

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launches a new perspective of boasting grounded in the story of Jesus that looks forward to Paul’s identification with Christ who was crucified in weakness (13:4). While this extended and graphic list of hardships would shock the readers, what should not be overlooked is the vivid imagery that would come to mind, such as the permanent scars resulting from the beatings and floggings on Paul’s body. The Corinthians would be familiar with or have seen Paul’s scarred body during his extended stay in Corinth. Scars that are impressed by beatings are considered marks of dishonor. Being subjected to the power of another man to undergo a whipping was a state that diminished any claim to manliness, and any inability to resist a whipping testified to the dishonor of the person whipped. Since vulnerability to beating was a servile liability, any free person who was whipped suffered an injury to honor far in excess of whatever temporary pain or permanent mark inflicted. In addition to the Roman punishment, the Jewish punishment received by Paul was considered shameful that it rendered a free man at the same level as a slave (Josephus, Jewish Aniquities, 4.8.21–22). Stoning (11:25) was also viewed as a shameful punishment (Aristophanes, Acharnians, 285–89; Aeschines, Against Timarchus, 163; Josephus, Jewish Aniquities, 4.202). As such, these scars on Paul’s body inflicted by beatings were simply not scars of honor but scars of dishonor (Lim, 175–81). Therefore, Paul’s account of his repeated beatings resulting in permanent bodily scars not only singles him out as one who is dishonorable, and even contemptible, but also testifies that his bodily integrity, a prerequisite of masculine dignity as well as social and political status, had been violated on numerous occasions. This is supported by clear indications that his scars carrying the notion of shame and dishonor have not been well received. The charge that Paul’s bodily presence is weak (10:10), seen as a direct reference to his scars of dishonor, should not be discounted (Lim, 179). How does boasting of his beatings contribute to Paul’s flow of thought? These scars tell the story of weakness; but more importantly, they tell the story of Jesus. This is the clearest evidence of Paul graphically carrying in his body not only the dying of Jesus (4:10) but also the scars of Jesus (Gal 6:17). Therefore, for Paul, the agonizing story of Jesus’s humiliations preceding his life-giving death is featured prominently among those humiliations. What others considered shameful, Paul boasted as legitimate expressions of his calling and commitment to his apostolic ministry for the sake of Christ and the Corinthians. It is significant that Paul ends his hardship list with his deep concern for the “churches” (11:28). This can only be an expression of his deep love and genuine concern for the Corinthians. The long list of Paul’s “achievements” as proof of being a better servant of Christ turns out to be anything but impressive; it is a catalog of his sufferings. Through this list, Paul demonstrates that he follows the paradigm of Christ, who functions as the ingroup prototype. Building on the earlier theme of suffering, Paul further advances the argument that suffering is the vehicle for the mediation and embodiment of the gospel and the character of the crucified Christ, despite its negative social connotations. By doing so, Paul defines a contrary set of values derived from the story of Jesus and renounces those that were equated with status and power in Corinth. (11:30–33) Paul’s Boast of the Humiliating Damascus Escape Paul’s narrative of his humiliating Damascus escape is a continuation of his boasting of his weakness (11:30). Before narrating this incident, he invokes the name of God in a traditional oath formula, reinforcing that he is recounting his weakness in truth and denying any form of deceit (11:31). 349

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The vivid event of Paul being lowered down the city walls of Damascus in his escape from the governor appears not only odd but out of place. It is exceptionally humiliating even to be mentioned, let alone to boast in it. The fact that Paul exited through a window in the wall and down the city walls instead of the city gates; left in a basket, not on foot; and that the escape took place at night, not in daylight (cf. Acts 9:23–25) sufficiently suggest that this incident is not merely “memorable” but profoundly humiliating and certainly not worthy of one’s boast. It emphasizes the loss of dignity and status that Paul has to endure for the sake of his apostolic ministry (Lim, 181–82). By boasting in his weakness, Paul is glorifying not in himself, but in the Lord who is his sufficiency in weakness (12:9). (12:1–6) Paul’s Boast of the Heavenly Ascent with Nothing to Share Paul continues his boasting (12:1) with his heavenly ascent account (12:2–6). How this passage fits into the overall flow of 11:23–12:10 has not been clear. Some argue that Paul switches from boasting about his weaknesses (12:5, 9) to his strength with the heavenly ascent account (Barnett, 553, 562; Harris, 820–21). However, this may not necessary be the case. If the heavenly ascent episode is crucial for Paul, why did he break his silence only after fourteen years, despite his extended stay in Corinth (Acts 18:11) and his earlier visits (12:14; 13:1, 2)? Did he not have any fresh and recent revelation? It is also strange that Paul should pick an event that was shrouded in obscurity, ambiguity, and uncertainty that resulted in no direct revelation from God to the people. It is even more surprising that Paul does not allude to his Damascus Christophany which was his pivotal encounter with the resurrected Christ which could have been a more credible and forceful argument against the opponents if Paul wishes to establish his apostolic credentials. If the account in Acts 18:9–10 is historically accurate, Paul’s extended stay in Corinth is also a result of divine revelation, then why not allude to this account in his response to the challenges of the opponents of his right of ministry in Corinth, as this would have constituted a more persuasive counterargument? Surely an event that occurred fourteen years ago is unlikely to place Paul in a favorable position compared to his opponents’ recent or more up-to-date claims. A close comparison between Paul’s and Jewish heavenly ascent accounts drawn from 1 Enoch, Testament of Levi, Slavonic Enoch, 3 Baruch, Revelation, Ascension of Isaiah, Coptic Apocalypse of Paul, Sepher Hekhalot, Hekhalot Rabbati, 4QShirShabb, and 4QBerakhot reveals many differences (Gooder, 23–161). In 12:1–6, there is no mention of the setting for Paul’s account, the throne vision, description of what Paul sees in the ascent, and the goal of the heavenly ascent, which is reaching the throne of God expected from Jewish heavenly ascent accounts. On the other hand, Paul’s mention of a precise dating, his doubt about the nature of the ascent, a condensed version of only a few verses, and the use of the third person in his narrative all point to characteristics that are alien to the heavenly texts. Based on these premises, it can be concluded that Paul’s narrative is not a classic heavenly ascent text, but a narrative of a failed ascent (Gooder, 190–211). Based on a seven-heaven cosmology, Gooder argues, “An ascent to the third heaven with no subsequent ascent into higher levels of heaven certainly suggests some element of failure. In a genre where the goal of ascent is so regularly the throne of God the lack of mention of it here must be important” (Gooder, 191). If Gooder is correct, this further reinforces that Paul is not boasting about his strength but his weakness. He is not describing the grandeur of his experience, or that he includes the account merely to counter his opponents’ boasts of similar experiences. He could easily boast of his other 350

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visions and revelations which had direct implications on his gentile mission (e.g., Acts 9:3–9; 16:9–10; 18:9–10; 22:17–21; 23:11; 26:19; 27:23–24; Gal 1:12; 2:1) but he refrains and chooses this failed ascent with no revelation from God to boast of his weaknesses (12:4). (12:7–9) Paul’s Boast of the Thorn in the Flesh Paul continues the theme of boasting in his weaknesses by recounting the thorn in the flesh afflicting him (12:7–9) without providing the precise identification of the thorn, resulting in numerous suggestions ranging from some physical infirmities to his opponents (see Thrall, II:809–18). Paul’s silence on the identity of the thorn is intentional, and any further attempt to identify it remains speculative and will further distract us from appreciating Paul’s primary purpose in giving another example of his boasting in his weaknesses (12:5; cf. 11:30, 12:1, 9). There is no doubt that the thorn was visible to the Corinthians who perceived him to be weak because of it. This is confirmed in 12:6 where Paul explicitly states that he repudiated the option of self-promotion and boasting in his status and achievements so that the Corinthians were able to form an accurate assessment of him and his ministry based on their own observation of what they saw in him and heard from him in his teaching. Paul is careful in driving home his point that it was his weaknesses that the Corinthians saw, and the preaching of Jesus the Messiah and the Messiah crucified in weakness that they heard (1:19; 4:5; 5:11; 11:3–4; 13:4; cf. 1 Cor 1:17, 23–25; 2:1–5). Therefore, it is no coincidence that Paul places the pair of “hearing” and “seeing” in the framework of his narrative of the thorn in the flesh. Paul’s request for the removal of the thorn was denied, but he received the assurance that the supply of Christ’s grace was never lacking, and the promise that Christ’s power was made perfect in his weakness (12:8–9). Following this affirmation, Paul continues to insist that he would boast all the more gladly of his weaknesses, so that the power of Christ might dwell in him (12:9). The perfection of Christ’s power in Paul’s weakness should not be limited to Paul’s experience of the thorn in his flesh but also all the weaknesses he had just narrated in 11:22–12:5 and his earlier references of his sufferings (1:5–11; 4:7–12; and 6:3–10). The power of Christ that Paul experiences is power that is radically redefined by Christ and the cross. It is power not demonstrated in authoritative lineage and charismatic signs based on the social convention of the day but power manifested in apostolic weakness and demonstrated in afflictions suffered for the sake of the gospel. (12:10–13) Summary Statement: Sufferings on the Account of Christ Paul summarizes his boasting of his weaknesses in a most climactic way in 12:10. He not only boasts of his weaknesses, but he is able to be content in them, not in the sense that he finds pleasure in his weaknesses or is resigned to the fate of his sufferings, but he uses them as his boasting for his weaknesses. Instead of listing his successful track record of impressive achievement and success, he lists his hardships and sufferings. All these point to Paul being a better servant of Christ, not because he suffers more but because he embodies the story of Jesus and through him, the life of Jesus is revealed. Paul wraps up his argument in the “Fool’s Speech” by reiterating this paradoxical principle that is the central reality in his life and ministry: “For whenever I am weak, then I am strong” (12:10b). Through his weaknesses, the Corinthians were able to see not only the afflictions, persecutions, difficulties, and sufferings that characterized Paul’s ministry but also the embodiment of the story of Jesus and the living out of the very message of the gospel that Paul preaches: Christ crucified.

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This is what authenticates Paul’s ministry, and this reveals his modus operandi as one whom the Corinthians can see and hear (12:6) and one in whom weaknesses are occasions for God’s grace and power to be made manifest. Because of this, Paul is not inferior to these super apostles. He claims that he had demonstrated the signs of the true apostle to the Corinthians (12:11–13). (12:14–13:10) Paul’s Upcoming Visit Paul declares his intention to visit the Corinthians for the third time (12:14; 13:1). This visit appears to be the one he had earlier planned (1:16) but postponed after the painful visit (2:1; 9:4). In preparation for the upcoming visit, Paul once again presented his deep love and concern for the Corinthians by appealing to the paternal relationship between them (12:14–15). As a father, Paul states that he is not a burden to the Corinthians, although he could rightly expect that as his children, they would provide for him (11:7–15). Instead, he discharges his responsibility as a father by providing an inheritance for his children, instead of taking from them (12:14b–15a). The idea of parents providing for children is well documented in antiquity. However, the manner in which Paul emphasizes this idea is nevertheless striking. He goes further than merely providing for the Corinthians, he is willing to be sacrificed for their sake. This is repeated twice in 12:15. In 12:15b, Paul moves from providing an inheritance to taking care of children by using the language of mutual love. He has brought the gospel to them, nurtured them, sacrificed himself for them, and suffered hardships. The least the Corinthians could do is to reciprocate by expressing their love and affection for him, an obligation of children to their parents. In this respect, Paul is moving the Corinthians to decisive action with the use of the image of the paterfamilias. Yet he is clear that he is not an abusive father. He is using his paternal authority for building up and not tearing down (13:10), in wrapping up his argument in 2 Cor 10–13. In his reference to himself as a generous father, Paul’s readers would be able to discern the point he was trying to make with regards to his love and care for them and his having gone beyond the normal bounds of generosity. The real issue now is whether the Corinthians, as his pious children, would repay the beneficence of their father in Christ. Paul fears for the complete breakdown of relationship should he visit them and find them in a less desirous condition (12:21). At the same time, Paul also takes the opportunity to respond to those who questioned his intention by taking advantage of them when he sent his assistants to them. Paul denies all misdoings through a series of four rhetorical questions (12:17–18). He also responds to the challenge to satisfy the demand for some visible proof that he is Christ’s genuine apostle (13:3a). His rivals most likely expected some convincing evidence, including miraculous signs (12:12), polished rhetoric (10:10), and letters of recommendation (3:1) that would at least match the stature of the opponents and correspond to the prevailing cultural expectations that Christ’s power is at work in Paul. By issuing this challenge, the Corinthians are not only questioning the validity of the nature of Paul’s apostleship and his ministry of reconciliation, but also the nature of the gospel that Paul proclaims. As such, Paul once again employs the weakness-power antithesis grounded in the story of Jesus in his response (13:3–4). What is striking is that Paul is drawing a parallel between his weakness and the crucifixion of Christ, and his present life sustained by the power of the resurrection. Why is Paul so insistent on the story of Jesus, especially in responding to the challenge of the Corinthians for proof that he is the mouthpiece of Christ? Why is there a parallel in the experience of Christ and Paul as reflected in 13:4? The issue at the heart of the conflict with 352

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the Corinthians is primarily Paul’s relationship with them and the fact that the way he exercises his apostolic ministry does not correspond with accepted social conventions, as we have in the issues of dispute related to Paul’s weaknesses as highlighted earlier. As we have already argued, weakness was often scorned in the Hellenistic culture of Paul’s day, and this same basis was being used in evaluating Paul’s ministry. As such, Paul’s weakness is not only humiliation in the eyes of the Corinthians, but his deliberate adoption of the posture of a socially and economically disadvantaged person also embarrasses the Corinthians because they expected Paul to assume the role of a leader in the socially accepted sense. The parallels between Christ and Paul go beyond the idea of service for others but point further to the standard by which Paul’s apostleship should be judged. Paul also endures the same kind of suffering and social humiliation associated with crucifixion. It is this social stigma (1 Cor 1:18–25) that is powerfully accentuated in 2 Cor 10–13. Therefore, by insisting on the story of Jesus as the canon by which all apostolic proclamation and ministry must be judged, Paul reminds the Corinthians that Christ too was weak for their benefit (13:3) and calls into question all the ways in which the Corinthians join the Greco-Roman society in idealizing the value of power, eloquence, beauty, and in impugning any form of weakness. To Paul, this faulty understanding of weakness among the Corinthians, pressed to an extreme, is leading to a faulty and dangerous misunderstanding of the more important truth behind the story of Jesus. In failing to understand Paul’s weakness, the Corinthians failed to understand who Jesus was, whose character Paul embodied. Paul is adamant in refusing to alter his apostolic lifestyle or his self-presentation to win the defecting Corinthians back from other more accommodating apostles. His attempt to win them back involves his appeal grounded in the story of Jesus. This is where the “in-Christ-new-creation” social identity is so crucial in driving home the point to the Corinthians. After responding to the challenge by the Corinthians for evidence that he is Christ’s agent, Paul now issues his challenge to the Corinthians in 13:5 to examine and test themselves whether they were living in the faith. This stern challenge by Paul strongly suggests that the Corinthians failed to allow the story of Jesus to lead them into transformation. Paul now turns the tables on the Corinthians: they were the ones who must be examined not according to the canon established by the cultural conventions of the day, but according to the story of Jesus and their “in-Christ-new-creation” social identity. This will be the ultimate test for the Corinthians to take into consideration whether they have been adhering to an unadulterated form of the gospel in light of their “new creation” social identity “in Christ.” This call for self-examination allows the Corinthians to employ temporal comparison to judge their present status against their own past in order to evaluate whether they are truly in the faith. Paul does not hesitate to warn the Corinthians that this upcoming third visit will be one that would result in disciplinary actions if they failed to carry out proper self-examination (13:1–3, 10). But yet Paul remains hopeful that the Corinthians, as “new creation,” will do the necessary self-examination and carry out remedial actions toward striving for full restoration, encouraging one another, being of one mind, and living in peace (13:11) so that this third visit will not end in disaster like the earlier “painful visit” (2:1–4; 12:21). For Paul, a community of “new creation” is one that would be reconciled to their apostle and to one another and would disassociate themselves from the super apostles. 2 Cor 12:14–13:10 indicates how serious the danger facing the Corinthians really is if they continuously refuse to embody the story of Jesus in their lives as a community of Christ-followers. At the same time, it also demonstrates that Paul is fighting for the faithfulness of the Corinthians. 353

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His primary task is to convince his people to abandon a view of faith supported by the social identity around them and to accept a cruciform model rooted in their “in-Christ-new-creation” identity. The Corinthians must not forget that the same Christ that lived in them was the Christ that suffered and died. Similarly, they must not forget that the apostle who brought this message of Christ crucified to them was also carrying the dying of Jesus so that they may experience life (4:10–12).

Paul’s Concluding Remarks (13:11–13) Paul closes his letter by appealing once again to the Corinthians to be reconciled to one another and to him (13:11). He also sends greetings from all the Christ-followers (13:12). Finally, he pronounces a brief blessing on them based on a Trinitarian formula (13:13).

References Barnett, Paul W. The Second Epistle to the Corinthians. NICNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997. Betz, Hans Dieter. 2 Corinthians 8 and 9. Hermeneia. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985. Condor, Susan. “Social Identity and Time.” Pages 285–315 in Social Groups & Identity: Developing the Legacy of Henri Tajfel. Edited by P. Robinson. Oxford: Butterowth-Heinemann, 1996. Gooder, Paula R. Only the Third Heaven? 2 Corinthians 12.1–10 and Heavenly Ascent. LNTS 313. London: T&T Clark, 2006. Guthrie, George H. 2 Corinthians. BECNT. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2015. Hafemann, Scott J. Suffering and Ministry in the Spirit: Paul’s Defense of His Ministry in II Corinthians 2:14—3:3. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990. Hall, David R. The Unity of the Corinthian Correspondence. JSNTSup 251. New York: T&T Clark, 2003. Harris, Murray J. The Second Epistle to the Corinthians. NIGTC. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005. Lim, Kar Yong. “The Sufferings of Christ are Abundant in Us” (2 Corinthians 1.5): A Narrative Dynamics Investigation of Paul’s Sufferings in 2 Corinthians. LNTS 399. London: T&T Clark, 2009. Martin, Ralph P. 2 Corinthians. WBC. Waco: Word, 1986. Savage, Timothy B. Power through Weakness: Paul’s Understanding of the Christian Ministry in 2 Corinthians. SNTSMS 86. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Sumney, Jerry L. Identifying Paul’s Opponents: The Question of Method in 2 Corinthians. JSNTSup 40. Sheffield: JSOT, 1990. Thrall, Margaret E. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Second Epistle to the Corinthians. 2 vols. ICC. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1994–2000. Tucker, J. Brian. You Belong to Christ: Paul and the Formation of Social Identity in 1 Corinthians 1–4. Eugene: Pickwick, 2010. Witherington III, Ben. Conflict & Community in Corinth: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary on 1 and 2 Corinthians. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995.

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Chapter  10

Galatians Robert L. Brawley and Jae Won Lee

Introduction Galatians is often portrayed as Paul’s one-sided polemic against rivals, but from the beginning it is dialogical. Obviously it invests in countering the rivals. But first it is an interchange with addressees with respect to their behavior, questions, concerns, feelings, objections, experiences, and even their openness to receiving the communication. To illustrate, when Paul reminds the Galatians of their care for him when he suffered a physical malady: “If possible you would have plucked out your eyes and given them to me” (4:15), he presumes their attitude with which he dialogues. Further, Paul resorts to diatribes in which he has imaginary interlocutors raise questions, which he likely anticipates from his addressees and for which he happens to have fitting answers. Another likely level of dialogue is Paul’s apparent attempts to match his rivals’ arguments. Martyn (291), for example, presumes that because rivals introduced Abraham into the discussion, Paul makes him a crucial component of his argument.

Addressees and Opponents Indications regarding specific locations for the Galatian assemblies and the time of writing are sparse. Likely, Paul writes in the last half-decade of his mission, which means that he views his own work with retrospective insight. Because his argument is similar to Romans, though distinct even in similarity, we favor a time of composition close to Romans (54–57 CE). As for location, the assemblies that Paul addresses must be located in the Roman province Galatia, and perhaps in the Celtic area around Ancyra. With respect to interpretations that associate the locations with cities visited by Paul in Acts, no correlation exists between information in Acts and the exigence of Galatians (Esler, 33). Because uncertainty prevails, we simply stress that the Galatians participated in the destiny of all the nations under Roman imperial domination.

Social Identity Approach and Post-holocaust Perspective Emphasis on social identity emerges most prominently in the commentary itself. But we begin with the following axioms. (1) Social identity is a recognition of who one is in an ongoing process

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of self-perception in interplay with evaluations of oneself by groups to which one belongs; as everyone belongs to multiple groups, identity is multiply determined. Minimally, the Galatians’ identity is impacted by roles they play in relation to the people of God; their ethnic group with respect to Ioudaioi; gender; and civic status, which is heavily dependent on their social location in imperial systems (slave, freed, citizen, dominant, subdominant) (3:28). (2) Ingroup categorization by features such as name and qualities produces comparison and competition with outgroups. (3) Consequently emphasis falls on how outgroups are “othered.” We interpret Galatians from sensitivity to its ancient imperial setting and contemporary postholocaust perspectives, both of which imply how relationships with other groups form an objective pole that impinges on the formulation of subjective identity. Thus, Paul and the Galatians are a part of the vanquished nations under imperial domination. Curiously post-holocaust sensitivities produce two approaches. One burdens earliest Christianity and NT documents with anti-Judaism. The other resists interpreting early Christianity from the perspective of later anti-Judaism. This second approach is most appropriate for Galatians. Indeed Paul and his mission constitute one of various possibilities among Ioudaioi, a variety that considered Jesus God’s messiah and admitted non-Israelites into the people of God without their becoming proselytes (2:15–16, against Esler, 121–26, 185, that Paul is a convert to messianism who views Israel as an outgroup). Rival influencers dominate the othering of an outgroup, not Israel. (Note: unless otherwise indicated, all translations are our own.)

Commentary Prescript and Inverted Thanksgiving (1:1–9) (1:1–5) Prescript From the outset Paul distinguishes an ingroup from outgroups. We consider interpretations that Paul attempts to boost his “apostolic” authority off the mark. Central to his apostleship is the notion of being “sent” (apostolos = “one who is sent,” 1:1). Paul portrays himself as a prototype of the ingroup who embodies a divine and Christological mandate (“sent through Jesus Christ and God . . . who raised him from the dead”), and the mandate surpasses human norms (ouk ap’ anthrōpōn, 1:1). His denial of human origins associates the risen Jesus so strongly with God that he is distinct from what arises from humans (de Boer, 24). God’s power manifested in raising Jesus from the dead bolsters Paul’s commissioning, and reciprocally characterizes both Jesus and the one God of Israel by what God does: Jesus is the one God raised, God is the one who raised Jesus. Social identity theory notes that group identity is highly dependent on a name and numbers, and, in the absence of significant numbers, power. At this juncture members identify themselves by relationships with God and Jesus without a fixed name. Instead terms like siblings (adelphoi) serve the purpose. With respect to number, Paul claims solidarity with others (“all the siblings who are with me”). Not only does this increase the number of interested parties; the letter also acquires communal support from this coalition (Ehrensperger, 35–36). Given the probability of the ingroup’s small number, God’s act of raising Jesus from the dead is an appeal to power that adds to the group’s validity (1:1).

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Paul addresses several assemblies (ekklēsiai) of Galatia. Obviously, he appeals to Israel’s God, whom he characterizes as patēr (1:1; 1:3), and this sets the stage for relationships of these assemblies with God as children with a parent (see 3:6–4:7; esp. 4:1–7). But this relationship is equally Christological, and the Christology is functional—that is, what Jesus does. Namely, Jesus gave himself on behalf of “our sins” (1:3–4). The pronoun “our” certainly includes both the senders and the receivers of the epistle but leaves ambiguous whether it is universally inclusive. Further, this functional Christology points beyond Jesus’s giving of himself. Inasmuch as Paul is dealing with relationships, consequences are expressed as the creation of an ingroup that is separated from an outgroup—“the present evil age” (1:4)—over against which the ingroup constituted by Paul and the Galatians stands. An ingroup doxology affirms what Jesus has accomplished according to God’s will, who again bears the name patēr (1:5). The “eternal glory” in the doxology means concrete manifestations of God’s power and majesty in the entirety of the Christological event (1:4–5; de Boer, 211). But this evil age inevitably includes imperial structures in which the ingroup is situated. This has two inferences. One is the imagery of slavery and freedom, starkly contrasted with the imagery of children and parent, which is picked up in 3:6–4:7; 4:21–31, and reiterated again in the imagery of spirit and flesh in 5:13–26. The other is the contrast between the ingroup that is related to God through Jesus and the outgroup that is designated “the present evil age.” This age is not to be merely mythologized, but re-mythologized as social, political, economic systems with respect to the location of both Paul and his addressees in imperial systems (1:2, 4; Kahl, 20–24, 209–43, perceptively locates Galatians in the context of Roman imperial law with its hierarchies and violence that dominates and enslaves). (1:6–9) An Absent Thanksgiving Commentators virtually unanimously contend that, unlike Paul’s other epistles, Galatians lacks a thanksgiving section and jumps instead to a rebuke. But with Bakhtin (135, 205, 209, 218) we treat this section as in dialogue with the absent thanksgiving that the epistolary form expects. The rebuke is full of the “absent” thanksgiving. With this the epistle shifts dramatically to what Nanos (86) effectively calls the “exigence of identity dissonance.” Ingroup identity is under threat, and in response, Paul reinterprets ingroup characteristics, indeed he creates new ones for optimal distinctiveness (a balance of self-esteem and loyalty to the ingroup) and to alter dimensions for comparisons with the outgroup. The way in which the addressees hear the rebuke dialogically over against the presumptive thanksgiving heightens the dissonance. This puts Paul’s auditors on the threshold of a crisis concerning who they are (Bakhtin, 61). Hereafter, Galatians reflects a reality that obliges a confrontation of the addressees with Paul. They either retreat from him or open themselves to being led by the spirit (see 5:18). Paul shapes his rebuke by his astonishment (thaumazō) at the Galatians’ reversal of ingroup identity—an about-face from “the one who called them” (1:6). But this is in process (present tense) and not yet accomplished. “The one who called them” is ambiguous. Ultimately this can be no other than the one God of Israel, but Paul so attaches his person to his mission that he doubtless takes the reversal personally. Moreover, rivals, whose understanding of the gospel differs from his, match his personal stance. Although for Paul this different gospel merits a double curse (1:7–9), the issue is not the other gospel as such but the Galatians’ orientation toward it. Virtually all translations and interpretations notwithstanding, Paul identifies this difference essentially as 357

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a different form (heteron) of the gospel, which he rejects for the Galatians, and simultaneously denies that it is a different kind (ho ouk estin allo, Lee, 111–13). According to our interpretation, Paul develops this further in the Jerusalem encounter in 2:7–8 by distinguishing the gospel for the uncircumcised from the gospel for the circumcised (heteron) whereas the truth of the gospel remains the same (ouk estin allo, Lee, 119–20). Although in 1:6 Paul identifies himself with his proclamation, the Galatians are not called to follow him. Rather, they are called into the grace that is expressed toward them in the gospel. But a process is underway in which they are turning to another form of the gospel. Unnamed persons wish to alter what Paul calls the gospel of Christ, and he “others” them as distorting it. Paul’s initial tact is to delegitimate their proclamation. But as with himself, Paul identifies the purveyors of this alteration with their proclamation. Granted, he reinforces his delegitimation with a curse. But what is the target of the curse? The NRSV takes the rivals who make the proclamation the target, but the neuter relative pronoun ὅ in both vv. 8 and 9 indicates a theme (thema) that is the anathema (anathema) rather than the personages. Paul curses the altered gospel. Interpreters overwhelmingly portray the rivals as negative mirror images of Paul. Although the question remains how Paul evaluates the rivals, social identity theory indicates that comparison of ingroups with outgroups presumes comparable similarity against which difference is emphasized. As we intend to demonstrate, the agreement reflected in Paul’s encounter with prominent figures in Jerusalem presumes agreement on the “truth of the gospel,” which fits what Baumann (21–24) calls “segmentation.” Distinction (even conflict) prevails at one level, but solidarity predominates at the level of being in Christ.

Paul’s Legitimation as One Sent by God (1:10–2:10) This section has a compound structure. On the one hand, Paul insists on the divine origin of his proclamation of the gospel to the nations. On the other hand, he firmly asserts that this makes him independent from human influence. Thus, Paul’s call dominates the first part of his line of thought, whereas his relationship of both solidarity with and separation from Jerusalem stands out in the second part. But each bleeds into the other. (1:10–17) Paul’s Call Paul returns to legitimating himself and his proclamation by asserting a divine mandate. Two surprising questions in 1:10 introduce a diatribe with an imaginary interlocutor and need not reflect actual charges from rivals. Paul picks up his earlier claim of a divine commission that is negatively contrasted to human origin. Further, the Christological mediation of this mandate is reiterated as a condition contrary to fact. He declares that his attempt to influence the Galatians is not oriented toward human approval, otherwise he would not be Christ’s slave (1:10). Paul’s self-designation as Christ’s slave restates his status as a recipient of God’s mandate. This imagery has two major dimensions. One is an Israelite heritage of venerable leaders designated as ’ebed yhwh, literally a slave in bondage, but almost always it simultaneously connotes one who worships Israel’s one God. Correspondingly it characterizes Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in their standing before God (Exod 32:13, etc.), also Moses (Deut 34:5; Josh 1:13, etc.) and David (in the headings of Pss 18; 36, etc.). Further, this carries over as a term of polite modesty in referring to

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oneself. None of these nuances should be overlooked in Paul’s self-designation as Christ’s slave. Indeed, in social identity terms, being Christ’s slave takes a low status from external objective poles of social identity and transforms it into an exemplar that elevates status of ingroup members (Martin, 51). The second dimension of Paul’s self-identification as Christ’s slave is that in the cultural encyclopedia of imperial Rome, slavery means marginalization and oppression. Slaves lacked rights of marriage and private property, although such prohibitions were often de facto disregarded. What ostracized them most was simply that they were not free, and the relationship with patrons and society at large made them subservient and exploited. This cultural view of slavery was habitually ingrained in the socialization of slaves such that they themselves internalized their social evaluation as self-deprecating inferiority. Later in Galatians, Paul takes advantage of such social marginalization in order to characterize those who lacked the status of children of God as slaves (4:6–9). These two factors undergird Paul’s claim to be Christ’s slave in order to validate his divine mandate as a theocentric badge of honor and simultaneously to downplay personal prominence so that he identifies with a variety of social levels by starting at a low status (Martin, 63). Galatians 1:11 significantly designates the addressees as siblings (adelphoi), a quasi-name for the ingroup. Paul further implies that his gospel is a determinant of their identity. He reiterates his gospel’s origin first by asserting cataphatically that it is neither from human perception (1:11) nor from humans. Rather it is nothing other than a revelation of Jesus Christ (1:12). It is possible to understand the syntax here as a revelation from Jesus or as a revelation in which Jesus is its content. The thematic development of the origin of Paul’s mission from 1:1 favors the first. But the elaboration in 1:16 more strongly indicates that Christ is the content of the revelation. English translation forces a choice, whereas we advocate taking the Greek as capable of communicating both nuances, not one without the other. This revelation contrasts with Paul’s admission of human origins manifested in his designation as a zealot in what he calls Ioudaismos (1:13). Niehbuhr’s study of Ioudaismos (21–23) convincingly shows the inadequacy of translating this rare term as “Judaism” (Israelite religious identity). Rather it betokens the fervent spirit that developed when Antiochus IV of Syria assaulted the temple, circumcision, and dietary restrictions. When, Antiochus, a foreign imperial ruler, stereotypically used precisely these features to characterize Israel’s identity, Maccabean resistance boosted them into quintessential prominence as marks of zealous Ioudaismos. Meanwhile central Israelite tenets such as the Shema and covenant are missing from cardinal markers of Israelite identity. Significantly, Paul does not disparage his zeal for Ioudaismos. Rather, he uses it to elevate himself above his peers (1:14). What is problematic is the imposition of his zeal onto others in the form of persecuting the assembly (ekklēsia) of God’s people (1:13). Along with this Paul elaborates his divine commissioning as an echo of a prophetic calling, and the revelation in 1:12 is reiterated as the revelation of God’s son, which again doubles the divine origin of his mandate, theologically and Christologically. That is, God is the source of both the revelation and the one revealed. Moreover, the revelation stipulates that Paul is to proclaim God’s son among the nations (1:16). Thus he further legitimates his proclamation among the Galatians in solidarity with both the crucified Jesus and the vanquished people of the nations. (1:17–2:10) Separation from and Solidarity with Jerusalem Galatians 1:17–2:10 as a whole deals with Paul’s solidarity with and distinction from Jerusalem. But first in 1:17–24 the 359

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dialogical interplay takes another turn in addition to the affirmation of the divine origin of Paul’s gospel and the negation of human influence. Apparently some implication from rivals of the prominence of Jerusalem leaders and their geographical location at the point of origin of the Jesus-movement lies behind Paul’s account of both time and distance from Jerusalem (1:17). The report of his Arabian sojourn in the same verse is mysteriously brief, and elaborations of Paul’s activities in Arabia remain speculative. Nevertheless, because he just claimed that his mandate was to proclaim God’s son among the nations, it is plausible that he was engaged in that very mission in Arabia. Paul’s reference to his return to Damascus is equally mysterious. Nevertheless, similarity with accounts in Acts 9; 22; 26 of an event corresponding to what Paul calls the revelation of God’s son to him (Gal 1:15–16) supports the assumption that Paul’s call was in the vicinity of Damascus, with which he continued some relationship. Still, he uses this only to substantiate his otherness from Jerusalem leaders. Immediately Paul also builds bridges with Jerusalem. The evidence is that he develops relationships among groups that Baumann (20–24) calls “segmentation.” Segmentation means that people may belong to various groups at separate levels. At one level membership implicates distinctions, yet at another level there is ingroup solidarity. Baumann refers to distinction as fission and solidarity as fusion. According to the logic of fission, at one level the Galatians are separate from those who belong to Abraham’s lineage. But in Christ these groups are fused and belong together. After three years Paul crosses over fissions of time and space with Jerusalem leaders by a visit with Cephas that includes no other leaders besides James (1:18–19). It is impossible to know whether the three years begins with Paul’s revelation or with his return to Damascus. But with these references to time and space, the geographical and temporal separation recurs. Paul was in Syria and Cilicia for a period of at least more than ten years (de Boer, 101). Again he plays dialectically between fission at one level and fusion at another. He was unknown among Christ-followers in Judea, but they were aware of his about-face from persecuting those who were in Christ, which they interpreted theologically as a manifestation of God’s power (edoxazon ton theon, 1:21–24). Distinct levels of fission and fusion continue with Paul’s account of a meeting with prominent Christ-followers in Jerusalem. A period of time continues to separate him from them and underscores his independence and otherness (Kahl, 277–79). Indeed, he legitimates his journey to Jerusalem by attributing it also to revelation. Moreover, he again identifies his proclamation as the gospel for the nations (2:2). Notably Paul does not travel to Jerusalem alone but with Barnabas and Titus who belong to a cadre of colleagues (2:1–3). These three have a segmented identity among themselves. Titus is an uncircumcised Greek whereas the other two are Ioudaioi. Social identity experiments demonstrate that for ingroups to note attributes of individual members of outgroups reduces bias against them. Accordingly, at the level of “Christ-faith” (for this coined term see on 2:16 below) Paul and Barnabas are fused with Titus on an individual rather than ethnic basis. At this point Paul “others” a group from which he avows a strong distinction at both a segmented level and at any hypothetical level of fusion. Whereas the term siblings (adelphoi) is a quasi-name for Christ-followers, he “others” this outgroup as “pseudo-siblings” (pseudadelphoi, 2:4) and charges that they entered surreptitiously as social control agents who intended to exclude 360

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his subgroup, an exclusion that he interprets as enslaving them (2:4). Therefore, both sides pit ingroup against outgroup without attaining fusion. For Paul, their ploy imperils the very truth of the gospel for the nations (2:5). Paul then affirms a segmented solidarity with Jerusalem leaders at the same time that he increases opposition at another level. He acknowledges their prominence, but disparages it by claiming a divine perspective: God shows no partiality, therefore, the prominence of these figures, which Paul recognizes, is irrelevant. Still his claim that they add nothing to him affirms his fusion with them at another level (2:6). One segment entrusted to Paul is the gospel of foreskin, and another is the gospel of circumcision entrusted to Peter (2:7). Notably, once distinct subgroups are identified, the recipients of Paul’s mission are no longer “othered” by the stereotype of foreskin. Incidentally, stereotyping is not necessarily prejudicial distortion but an emphasis on similarities that characterize the ingroup and differences that characterize the outgroup. Further, one fallacy in attribution of stereotypes to individuals is that they always belong to a number of different groups, and this plurality frustrates one stereotype. To return to Paul’s argument, the terminology shifts from “foreskin” to “the nations” (2:8). But Paul asserts that the power of the one God of Israel is at work in fusing the two forms of one gospel. Again, Peter as a prototype of a mission to the circumcision is distinguished from Paul as a prototype of a mission to the nations (2:8). With this in mind we pick up our initial discussion on 1:6–7. The unification of segmented groups at another level in 2:7–10 corresponds to what Paul affirms in 1:6–7 as another form of the gospel (heteron), which is not of a different kind (allo). Further, the right hand of koinōnia in 2:9 moves from segmented groups to nothing less than partnership, which is materially embodied in care for the poor. This is not merely a token of agreement but a concrete partnership manifesting solidarity in the gospel, segmented identities notwithstanding (2:10).

The Antioch Incident (2:11–21) (2:11–14) Sequence implies that the Antioch incident continues to demonstrate how the two subgroups experience fission and fusion. Some players are the same, although James is present in Antioch only by association with others. Peter and Paul once again function as prototypes of distinct subgroups. From Paul’s perspective, Peter initially recognized solidarity at a certain level by eating with non-Israelites, but under pressure from people associated with James, Peter reverted to fission by withdrawing to the subgroup stereotyped once again as the circumcision (2:11–12). Barnabas and other Ioudaioi compounded this separation in a move that Paul identifies as hypocrisy by both a verb and its cognate noun (2:13). Hypocrisy is not merely a matter of saying one thing and doing another. Rather, as the word formation itself indicates, it is behavior based on hidden, underlying assumptions (as if hidden under a mask) that create hierarchies of dominance. Here a hierarchy of dominance is embodied in the people of James. This hypocrisy turns fusion back into fission by separating subgroups based on the underlying assumption that circumcision divides all humanity into two distinct groups—Ioudaioi and the nations. Then Paul shows the incongruity of segmented subgroup fission taking precedence over fusion. The argument depends largely on how the term ethnikōs is understood. In our opinion the translation “like a gentile” is misleading. Because of the necessity of using English for this

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discussion, we suggest that what Paul expresses in 2:14–15 is that when Peter ate with Christfollowers from the nations, he was living as an Ioudaios fused in solidarity with non-Israelites, which requires no loss of identity for Ioudaioi as a subgroup. How Peter could compel nonIsraelites to ioudaizein makes little sense as anything like what the term “Judaizing” usually connotes. It means rather giving the subgroup priority over solidarity—separating Ioudaioi from the nations—for which Paul accuses Peter of not acting according to the truth of the gospel (2:14). The truth of the gospel, therefore, decategorizes both the Ioudaioi and the nations and perforates boundaries between them. Paul advocates a superordinate identity of shared solidarity at another level, whereas for him, Peter’s behavior is tantamount to “binary” categorization (Baumann, 19–20)—the equivalent of “reverse mirror imaging.” (2:15–21) We have repeatedly made use of one of Baumann’s constructs of othering that he calls segmentation. But in our view, in moving directly from segmented difference to solidarity, he passes over an intermediate step that social identity theorists call “crossed categorization.” This emphasizes what groups already share in common in the process of moving from segmented distinction to solidarity. This section of Galatians highlights some high-powered crossed categorization between the nations and the Ioudaioi. In 2:15 Paul distinguishes two groups that constitute segmented identities. The first-person plural “we” locates Paul in the group who are Ioudaioi by nature, but only as this segmented “we” group belongs to the fused solidarity of Christ-followers at another level. Further, this group is characterized by binary categorization over against “sinners” from the nations (2:15). But to take the othering of non-Jews as sinners as a typical degrading stereotype may be premature in that Paul will later characterize everyone equally as under both a curse (3:10) and a sin (3:22). As will become clear, when it comes to the problem of evil, “sinner” is a crossed category that bridges the fission between Ioudaioi and the nations. But first, Paul shapes his argument by soteriology and Christology to show that the group of Ioudaioi to which he belongs receives rectification by Christ-faith rather than by works of law (2:16). The most natural English equivalent to ean mē, which corresponds to “rather than” in the previous sentence, is “unless.” This makes it possible to understand that here Paul maintains a positive view of “works of law” under the condition of Christ-faith: “A human is not rectified on the basis of works of law, except through Jesus Christ-faith” (2:16). On the other hand, a refrain in the context sets works of law over against Christ-faith when it comes to the way God rectifies humans, and this supports reading ean mē as presenting Christ-faith as an alternative to works of law. Our use of “Christ-faith” attempts to express two nuances of the phrase pistis Christou at the same time. One takes “Christ” to be the object of “faith,” that is, a trusting encounter with Christ, and the second takes Christ as a subject who exercises his own faith in fidelity to God. Wolter (75–77) reasons insightfully that only Christ-followers who have a trusting encounter with Christ can comprehend his crucifixion as the culmination of his fidelity to God. This strongly favors the primary nuance of pistis Christou as a trusting encounter with Christ. De Boer (192) makes “faith in Christ” secondarily derivative from the “faithfulness of Christ,” whereas Wolter’s logic takes “faith in Christ” to be primary and “the faithfulness of Christ” as the secondary derivative. We contend that the phrase conveys both believers’ relationships of a trusting encounter with Christ and likewise Christ’s relationship of faithfulness to God. 362

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Paul’s testimony concerning his group of Ioudaioi is that they have already placed their faith in Jesus Christ so that they might be rectified by that faith and not by works of law (2:16b). At this point he is moving from segmented groups toward solidarity by way of a crucial crossed categorization: “All flesh will not be rectified by works of law” (2:16). Everyone is rectified in the same way. Thus, rectification is a crossed category shared by believers from both the Ioudaioi and the nations. We see no disparagement of the law here. To be sure, as indicated in the discussion about Ioudaismos on 1:13–14 above, Paul considers that his zeal for Ioudaismos reflects distortions of the law under influences of imperial law, both under Antiochus IV of Syria and under Roman imperialism (see Kahl, 274–81). Indeed, later Galatians describes how law still has positive functions (e.g., 3:19; 5:14; 6:2). When the issue is rectification through Christfaith, however, the Ioudaioi and the nations share a crossed category that bridges their segmented identities. A diatribe then anticipates an opponent’s rebuttal. If there is only one way of rectification for everyone, doesn’t Christ reduce the Ioudaioi to sinners no different from the nations? The question of Paul’s hypothetical interlocutor is: “Is Christ then sin’s servant?” (2:17). Paul employs his typical response in diatribes: “By no means” (2:17). Galatians 2:18 is then to be understood in terms of segmented identity. Paul once attempted to destroy the assembly of those who found their identity in Christ, and his response to the hypothetical interlocutor is that for him to abandon his understanding of the solidarity of Ioudaioi and the nations in Christ would make him a different kind of sinner (parabatēs, 2:18). He would be violating his divine mandate to proclaim the gospel of Christ to the nations. Paul expresses this in terms of dying to law by living to God (2:19, cf. 1:14). It would be a momentous mistake to take 2:19a apart from 2:19b. The crux is not death to Torah. Rather it is: “In order that I might live to God.” As we will see it is equally mistaken not to read this in light of Paul’s declaration in 3:21 that the law is not against God’s promises. For the time being, however, Paul makes this contingent on Christ’s crucifixion with which he identifies. To take the consequences of this crucifixion first, for Paul death has a successor of living to the one God of Israel (which contrasts sharply with polytheism, inevitably syncretized with imperial cults of Roma and the emperor). It is only in this sense that his life of living to the law comes to an end (2:19); not one without the other. Reversing the analogy, Paul’s new life corresponds to a new life for Christ. Without explicit mention of resurrection, Christ nevertheless lives anew because his life is embodied in Paul (“I no longer live, but Christ lives in me,” 2:20). Thus, rectification is not a forensic transaction by which human beings are declared “just.” Rather, Christ’s execution manifests love (2:20). This love can be understood in two ways. Paul possibly affirms that Christ is God’s son “who loved me and gave himself for me.” But in this statement God has the definite article, so Paul can be making a theocentric declaration: Christ is “the son of the God who loved me and entrusted himself to me.” Verse 21, which reiterates all of this as “God’s grace,” adds weight to the theocentric option. But in spite of syntax and grammar, it is often neither possible nor desirable to determine how these genitives are to be understood, so we propose allowing both to stand without one overtaking the other. In any case, this love of God in Christ points to nothing less than a dynamic relationship with the one God of Israel that comes about through Christ. In sum, rectification is not through law but through an event as God’s gracious gift in which Christ died only to be embodied in the life of those who are in Christ (2:21). Esler (169–76) takes rectification as a marker of prestigious Israelite social identity, which bestows life and blessing. 363

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But against his claim that it has no ethical sense, identity is manifest in behavior. Crucially, rectification is a relationship with God that is embodied in life (see 5:13–14).

The Experience of the Spirit (3:1–5) After the diatribe with an imaginary interlocutor, Paul directly addresses the Galatians in the vocative with the adjective anoētoi. Because of what Nanos (45–49) refers to as an “ironic rebuke,” he considers this a belittling mock address and finds it unnecessary to identify the recipients as Celtic people in the region of Ancyra. If Nanos is correct, then we must contend with Paul’s use of a title of low esteem in order to belittle his audience. This means stereotypically othering Galatai in a crude way that Baumann (19–21) calls “orientalizing” (binary opposites). We think, however, that there is a significant difficulty with the notion that Paul uses Galatai to refer to non-Celtic people. Galatai designates ethnic Celtic people whose name the Romans used for a province much larger than the Celtic region. In Paul’s time it included not only Celtic settlements around Ancyra but the Anatolian central plateau of East Phrygia and Lyconia, the area around Pisidian Antioch and Appolinia, Isauria, Pisidia, and the Pamphylian plain (Mitchell, 870). That is, the name of the province stemmed from the name of ethnic Celts. But the derivation cannot be reversed. If people of the Province of Galatia were Lyconian (see Acts 14:11), they could not derive their ethnic identity from the name of the area (de Boer, 4). Whoever the addressees may be, Kahl (31–75) has vividly demonstrated that the representation of the Celts was pervasively stereotypical. Returning to Paul’s othering of the Galatai, the adjective anoētos in 3:1 is usually translated as “foolish.” But its literal meaning is “lacking understanding” (our preference), and it need not be construed as either ironic or crude orientalizing. For social identity theory, a major impetus in belonging to a group is to increase self-esteem. According to “optimal distinctiveness” (a balance of self-esteem and loyalty to the ingroup) minority groups enhance the self-esteem of their members among themselves. But when members are confronted with a majority of another group, as is surely the case of Paul’s addressees in comparison with the Ioudaioi, they are depersonalized, and loyalty to a minority group is severely threatened. Accordingly a principle function of Paul’s rhetoric is to build up his addressees’ self-esteem. So if the address Galatai (3:1) is modified in an unflattering way as “foolish,” it is difficult to comprehend how belonging to the group could contribute to self-esteem. But if anoētos is understood in the sense of lacking understanding (similarly de Boer, 169–70), then Paul anticipates rectifying the deficiency. Indeed, he immediately portrays these Galatai not as foolish but as people who witnessed a display of the crucified Jesus. Nevertheless, someone had hoodwinked them: “Who has injured you with the evil eye?” (3:1, translation Elliott, 63). Whereas one tack of dealing with threats to identity is to reinterpret group characteristics or to create new ones, Paul appeals not to something new but to the Galatians’ vivid experiences in the past. For both groups and their members identity is formed in a relationship between past and present (see Olick, 5–14), and Paul evokes the meaning of the Galatians’ past experience of the spirit for their present self-understanding. When they received the spirit, the key was not works of law but a report of Christ crucified that resulted in the Galatians’ encounter of trust and

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fidelity with Christ (3:2). The contrast is between human actions grounded in law and divine action in bestowing the spirit by means of Paul’s report. As in 2:16 what Paul describes as “faith” must include the Galatians’ perception of reality that the report produced. His rhetorical question (3:3) presents Christ-faith as the key to receiving the spirit, which he contrasts with the metaphor “flesh,” and which in turn corresponds to their lack of understanding. Further, receiving the spirit was manifested in deeds of power, and Paul’s rhetorical question once again is whether the source of this is works of law or the report that evoked Christ-faith (3:5). Betz (130–32) takes the manifestations of the spirit as charismatic ecstasy. But this is premature, because receiving the spirit here is related to 4:6 where the spirit of God’s son produces congregational acclamations in which the assemblies cry out to God, “Abba.” The reception of the spirit as a “procreative, divine, mobile, and transformative” agent (Hodge, 67–77) produces a corporate cry to God as children to a parent.

The Galatians and Abraham (3:6–4:31) Before returning to experiences of the spirit in ch. 4, Paul grounds an argument in scripture that constitutes a major part of the letter. This occurs in three steps. First, the experience of the Galatians is analogous to Abraham’s encounter with God that produced both his faith and his rectification (3:6–9). Second, the Galatians are implicated in the Abrahamic covenant especially in God’s promise to bless all the nations of the earth (Gen 12:2–3; 18:18; 22:17–18; 26:2–4; Gal 3:8). Hodge (60–64) perceptively notes that although gendered, “circumcision” of male Ioudaioi became connected to the images of fertility and intergenerational kinship that God promised to Abraham’s descendants. But remarkably also Paul takes the promise of blessing for all nations in such a way that he depicts the Galatians as descendants of Abraham (3:7, 29; 4:5–7). Third, he argues on the level of an overarching salvation-historical metanarrative (against a number of prominent interpreters) that demonstrates his perception of the interrelationship of Abrahamic promises and Mosaic Law (3:10–4:31). (3:6–18) The Promise of Abraham The Galatians’ reception of the spirit because of a report that produced Christ-faith together with consequent “deeds of power” is comparable to Abraham’s story of believing divine promises (3:6). Not only are the two experiences analogous; in social identity terms the introduction of the analogy to Abraham with kathōs presents Abraham as a prototype, not as a paradigm to imitate but a concrete embodiment of ingroup norms and a standard for solidarity, which social identity theory labels “high entitativity.” Here Paul introduces a theme that is at the same time a thesis. He states as a conclusion based on the analogy to Abraham that those who are determined by Christ-faith are Abraham’s children (3:7). Surely, this enhances the Galatians’ self-esteem. Interestingly, that people of the nations are Abraham’s children is not a complete surprise in that Israelite traditions already made Abraham an Adamic ancestor of the human race (1 Macc 12:21; Josephus, Ant. 1.220–21, 238–41; 12.225–26; Eusebius citing Polyhistor, who cites Cleodemus Malchus and Demetrius [Praepar. Evang. 9.20; 9.29.1–3]). Further, Paul’s inference depends not merely on the analogy but also on a prominent part of the cultural encyclopedia that behavior stems from external sources, just as children derive traits

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from parents. Indeed, in antiquity behavior both good and bad derives from sources that are comparable to “parentage.” With this notion in the cultural repertoire of deriving traits and behavior, Paul’s conclusion that the Galatians are Abraham’s children, based on the congruence of the Galatians’ experience with Abraham’s, requires no great stretch of imagination. But Paul derives Abrahamic parentage along other dimensions. (1) To reiterate, one is the blessing to all the nations of the earth in the promises to Abraham in Genesis. (2) The other is the promise of being heirs of Abraham, which surfaces explicitly in 3:18. Galatians 3:8 links Paul’s addressees with Abrahamic promises of the blessing of all the nations. In fact, the promises of blessing foresee the rectification of the nations and thus the rectification of the Galatians by Christ-faith. This constitutes a crossed categorization of the Galatians with the Ioudaioi (2:16). Further 3:9 universalizes this: “Those who are based on Christ-faith are blessed along with the faith of Abraham.” Further, the promise of blessing gains strength by its antithesis to a scriptural curse upon those who are based on works of law: “Because everyone who does not abide in all the things that are written in the book of the law in order to do them is cursed” (3:10; see Deut 27:26). This is most naturally understood as an exhortation to perform the entire law. But two reasons challenge this interpretation. One is Paul’s assertion in Gal 3:22 that scripture puts everything under sin. This implies that no one keeps the law absolutely (de Boer, 200). Further, Paul argues from the position that the problem of sin is a corporate matter. The law does not eliminate sin from Israel as a corporate group. In sum, as we anticipated above (see on 2:15, 17), the problem of sin serves as a crossed categorization for both the nations and the Ioudaioi. Another scriptural citation substantiates this. Paul’s reference to Hab 2:4 confirms his conviction that rectification is by faith. Clearly Habakkuk does not express Paul’s notion that living on the basis of faith excludes being made right with God on the basis of law (3:11). For Paul, however, the positive implies the negative. The antithesis between law and faith is flatly stated in 3:12: “But the law is not on the basis of faith” (“two mutually exclusive modes of being,” de Boer, 207). And this moves to the necessity of a Christological solution, which Paul expresses as Christ paying the price of liberation from the curse of the law. “Christ became cursed by law in his execution by being hung on [the] wood [of the cross]” (3:13). Rationales for how becoming cursed according to law liberates from the curse of the law must be speculative. Our own speculation is that if Jesus’s condemnation by law is an act of injustice, then instead of administering justice, law is susceptible to dispensing injustice (not uncommon). Can the concrete case of Jesus’s crucifixion then be universalized to the point of saying, “By law no one is made right with God” (3:11)? But our speculation aside, we simply note that the antithesis between law and faith is reiterated in curse and liberation, which is then explained as making it possible for the promised blessing of Abraham to come to the nations through the messianic event. This is then causatively reiterated as making it possible for “us” (ingroup) to receive the promise through Christ-faith. Moreover, this promised blessing is equated with receiving the spirit (3:14). The line of thought takes a turn here. Paul addresses his audience anew with the quasi-name siblings (adelphoi) and asserts the lasting validity of Abrahamic promises by the notion of the inviolability of a covenant (3:15). Presumably, Paul’s note that he speaks in a human way indicates that there is a qualitative distinction between a divine covenant and a human last will. But the 366

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illustrative potential covers them both. If a human will remains valid, all the more divine promises are irrevocable (3:15). Significantly, the argument hangs not on the nature of a covenant but on God’s character. Paul then interprets God’s promise of offspring to Abraham Christologically. He can do this because although often interpreted collectively as “descendants,” “seed” is singular. So Paul interprets “seed” as a reference to Christ in the singular (3:16). This is no obstacle, however, to also taking “seed” as a collective plural in order to name the Galatians recipients of the promises (3:29). Further, Paul affirms the perdurance of the promises by asserting that the coming of the law 430 years later does not annul them (3:17). The conclusion of this argument in 3:18 approaches the view that the problem with the law is simply that it is not the promises. Still it reiterates the abiding validity of the promises. The promises endured for 430 years before the Mosaic Law. They also endure after the coming of the law. (3:19–29) Why Then the Law? Paul dials up a diatribe in order to provide his understanding of the law’s function. An imaginary interlocutor asks: “Why then the law?” (3:19). The question conceals a false thesis to the effect that if the Abrahamic promises had endured, the law would be superfluous. Paul then answers the false premise. The argument has only one primary point, but with subsidiary, complicated reasoning. The primary appeal is to the confessional status of the Shema that God is one (Deut 6:4). Because God is one, the law is not against the promises (Gal 3:20–21). The subsidiary reasoning is fivefold. (1) The giving of the law through angels and a mediator (3:19–20) leads to a second question from the interlocutor: Is the law against the promises? (3:21). This is a part of the false thesis that the diatribe corrects by affirming that God is one and that the law is not against the promises (3:21). (2) The law had a temporally limited function to restrain evil (3:19, 23–24). Again the problem of evil emerges as a crossed categorization for Israel and the nations. The argument is not that the law is abrogated, but that Christ introduces another thoroughly conditional way to deal with evil. As in 2:19–20 only if living in Christ means living to God does it follow that legal constraints no longer curtail evil. (3) Because God is one and the law is not against the promise, the law also anticipates Christ because it has a function between the giving of promises to Abraham’s seed and the fulfillment of the promises in the coming of Christ (3:19, 24). (4) Because law constrains, it lacks the positive dynamic of making alive (3:21). (5) As 2:15 shows, Paul holds the presupposition that the nations are under the power of sin. Here his argument moves to a crossed categorization. The law demonstrates that the problem of evil is the same for everyone. In keeping with the curse of 3:10 the law puts everything under sin (3:22). The introduction of a paidagōgos elaborates the law’s function to restrain. The English translation “disciplinarian” is misleadingly restrictive. Many interpreters take paidagōgoi as harsh castigators, but they had positive functions for leading children (the literal meaning), and among elites they were considered the norm for rearing children. This figuration corresponding to the law resists painting the law in negative tones. In short, the argument since 3:19 demonstrates positive functions for law in the metanarrative that moves from Abrahamic promises to Christ. The alternative to a paidagōgos is the coming of a messiah for the purpose of living to God by Christ-faith, as in 2:19–20. Paul expresses this in a first-person plural that is a crossed categorization for Ioudaioi and the nations (3:24–25). Explicitly the Galatians are included. So Paul asserts: “For you are all children of God through Jesus Christ-faith” (3:26). We have 367

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mentioned the importance of a name for designating a group. Heretofore “siblings” (adelphoi) has functioned as a quasi-name. Now it becomes “children of God.” A superior identification is difficult to imagine, and it carries extraordinary weight for the self-esteem of group members. Conspicuously, Paul uses a baptismal formula that expresses how Christ-faith establishes solidarity in the ingroup (3:28). In this context it affirms segmented identity. At one level ethnic, social, and gender categories mark distinctions. From the emphasis on salience in social identity theory, we deduce that such categories imply the presence of members of these very categories in the Galatian assemblies. If Ioudaioi, slaves, or women had no significance in the assemblies, the categories would not be salient and mentioning them would be superfluous. But at another level they give way to a category of solidarity—“in Christ.” This is true both with respect to evil—everyone is in the same boat—and with respect to rectification through Christ-faith—this holds for everyone. This formula in 3:28 could cause members of the group who conventionally are prominent to experience status inconsistency. Arguably this also would be wholesome for ingroup solidarity. But Paul sums this up with a claim that edifies self-esteem among all ingroup members: “If you (plural) belong to Christ, you are therefore descendants of Abraham, heirs (klēronomoi) according to promise” (3:29). This identity as heirs adds a new dimension to what Paul has already harvested from the Abrahamic covenant. Heretofore, he appropriated the promises of numerous descendants for Abraham and the blessing of all the nations of the earth. Now he alludes to the promise of the land as an inheritance. If it were not for his use of this notion elsewhere, we would have to stop at this point. But his use of it elsewhere (see Rom 4:13; 8:32; 1 Cor 6:2) demonstrates that he followed Israelite traditions that projected the promise of inheriting the land into the future and universalized it. Building on the ambiguity of both ereṣ and gē, it was taken to mean not merely the land of Canaan but the entire earth (against de Boer, who claims that Paul replaced the promise of land with the promise of the spirit; see Sir 44:19–21; Jub. 17.3; 19:21; 22:14; 32:18–19; Heb 2:5; Philo, Moses 1.155; Mek. Exod. 14.31; according to Sipre on Deut 34:1–4, on Mt. Nebo when God showed Moses the promised land, God showed him the whole earth). Heirs of this promise have astounding status indeed. Moreover, it should not go unnoticed that this status also has concrete implications for imperial conditions where access to land was an increasing problem for people who lived at the subsistence level and simultaneously lived under hierarchies of dominance from imperial politics and culture. (4:1–7) Adoption as Heirs of Abraham The status of Galatian Christ-followers as heirs of the whole world is confirmed in 4:1 when the analogy of an heir corresponds to them as “lord of everything.” But when Paul reverts to the analogy of a minor, he qualifies their status, and the images of guardians and managers reiterate the analogy of the law as a paidagōgos such that heirs are virtually slaves. Although “redemption” in 3:13 carries overtones of liberation from slavery, now slavery enters the discussion explicitly, and it plays no small role in this entire chapter. First, 4:2 qualifies the image of slavery temporally—“until a time determined by the father.” Paul then uses an inclusive “we” to portray a human condition prior to this time not only as minors but as slaves to cosmic elements, which the Galatians apparently had served (4:3, 8–9). This imagery cannot be restricted to mythological elements, because Roman religion and culture conceived of cosmic powers as embodied in concrete reality, especially in social and political hierarchies. The rhetoric of slavery has force because it is embodied in imperial and ideological structures. 368

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Here Paul mixes metaphors. The time of minority changes into the “fullness of the time” when God sent the son to redeem (cf. 3:13) those under law (4:5). Thus, he either shifts from addressing the Galatians to a portrayal of Ioudaioi, or depicts the enslavement of the Galatians to elements of the cosmos as equivalent to Israel’s condition until their redemption from their law that had been distorted under imperial powers that enslave (as already under Antiochus Epiphanes). Whichever, the consequence is adoption as God’s children (4:5). Crucially the images of slavery and redemption make this adoption remarkable. Swancutt demonstrates how Roman adoption of a slave is a way of continuing the dominance of an elite citizen who had no male heir. Thus, the adoption of the Galatians, who have been redeemed from “slavery” for the sake of kinship as God’s children, undercuts the presumed imperial system to sustain elite domination. Doubtless, this generates momentous affective gains in self-esteem that depend not merely on Paul’s declaration that the Galatians are God’s children but also on their pragmatic experience. That is, Paul again evokes the experience of the spirit as in 3:2–5. The experience in 4:7 is again the effect of God’s gift of the spirit to the Galatians, who corporately cry out to God, “Abba,” as children to a parent. The logic is dialectical. The cry to God as children to a parent confirms the reception of the spirit. Inversely, the cry to God corroborates that the assembly that makes this acclamation has received the spirit (4:6). Accordingly, the Galatians are recategorized from slavery under cosmic elements to children of God (4:7). (4:8–11) Exhortation against Reverting Paul then turns to an exhortation with this theological imagery as its foundation. Whatever stoicheia means (4:3), the reiteration in 4:8 expresses the dilemma of the Galatians, who apart from their coming to know God are enslaved to “things that by nature are not divine.” Beyond the cosmic dimension of the stoicheia, imperial powers that paraded as divine cannot be out of sight. Moreover, the stoicheia are othered dishonorably as “weak and impoverished” (4:9). The Galatians’ new status consists in knowing God and more dramatically being known by God. Given this mutual relationship, Paul finds it preposterous that they could return to slavery to the stoicheia (4:9). Further, indications of such a return involve calendar observances (4:10). Although interpreters often take this as Israelite calendars, the return “again” to the stoicheia makes it more likely that this alludes to Roman festivals involving idolatry, necessarily involving the imperial cult (Kahl, 225–26). Whatever, Paul considers this to be a rejection of what he accomplished among them, once again identifying himself with his mission (4:11, see above on 1:6). (4:12–20) Reception of Paul Tantamount to Accepting His Gospel With this identification of himself with his mission in mind, Paul turns to what Betz (221) calls a “friendship topos.” From the status of solidarity as children of Abraham, assuredly mutual solidarity holds for the Galatians and Paul. The appeal begins with an imperative for his addressees to “become as I am” (4:12). Some take this as an authoritarian attempt to grasp power by insisting on sameness. But contextually it has to do with ingroup solidarity. The line of thought shows what this means. First, Paul reverses the relationship. He became as they are, and this mutual relationship is summed up in the kinship of siblings (adelphoi) that he assigns to them (4:12). Further, if his complaint about laboring in vain in 4:11 sounds harsh, he exculpates them in the past tense: “You did nothing wrong to me” (4:12).

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This mutual relationship became concrete in the manner in which the Galatians received him in spite of his physical malady. Attempts to determine the malady more specifically are futile. For example, speculations that it had to do with his eyes due to his remark that they would have plucked out their eyes and given them to him is as arbitrary as assuming that someone who would give you the shirt off their back indicates a problem of nakedness. A Korean equivalent characterizes extreme generosity as being willing to cut out one’s liver. Paul’s malady put the Galatians’ character to a test, yet they did not disdain him. Rather, they received him as God’s messenger, even as if he were Jesus Christ (4:14). Again, because Paul identifies himself with his mission, receiving him implies receiving his mission. For social identity this is an appeal for ingroup solidarity. Moreover, welcoming others and caring for one who suffers represent ingroup norms. The verso of Paul’s identification of himself with his mission is that rejecting what he calls “telling the truth” is tantamount to hating him (4:16). Further, he others outgroup rivals simply as “they.” They are zealous. Paul has no quarrel with zeal as such. But like his own misguided zeal that led to his attempt to destroy God’s assembly (1:13–14), theirs leads to no good. In fact, Paul accuses them of zealously trying to build up what he considers to be their outgroup by excluding the Galatians unless they adopt the identity of the circumcised (4:17). Whereas Paul uses paternal imagery of father and children for the relationship of the Galatians with God (4:6), in 4:19 he uses the figuration of a mother and her children to portray his relationship with them. He even depicts this relationship as if he had experienced the travail of childbirth. Resorting to the imagery of a woman suffering in childbirth represents relationships very distinct from the pater familias of elite Greco-Roman models with its hierarchical structure (Horrell, 298, 303). In brief, the language of fictive kinship greatly exceeds the friendship topos. The assembly as maternally nurtured siblings, who appeal to God as children to a parent, epitomizes both ingroup solidarity and the esteemed status of heirs of God’s promises. (4:21–31) The Intertextual Figuration of Two Women on Slavery and Freedom The tone shifts precipitously with a reference to the addressees’ desire to be under law. This section has characteristics of a diatribe, although it opens a dialogue with the addressees rather than an imaginary interlocutor. As if on the lips of the Galatians, Paul evokes: “We wish to be under law” (4:21). Paul’s response appeals to law not as legislation but as narrative. It begins with a precis of Abraham’s story of two sons by two mothers (4:22). However, it is not the straightforward narrative of Hagar and Sarah, but the story modified and mediated through Isaiah, and this produces a figuration of intertextuality. In 4:24 Paul refers to his reading with the verb allēgoreō, which is usually translated with a periphrasis that uses the noun “allegory.” Although as in allegory Paul correlates some details of the story with an external schema, the verb connotes a wider range of a figuration than “allegory,” and the play on precursor texts produces a figuration that is far richer than allegory alone (what follows in the next three paragraphs is heavily dependent on Brawley, 111–16). The figuration deals with the status of slavery and freedom under the personages of a slave mother and a free mother, the second of which is also characterized as a mother through promise (4:23). In allegorical mode, Paul construes the two women as two covenants, although in the context of the argument, they are not construed as covenants as such, but as ways of construing 370

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law and promise as if they could be separated and then made to compete. Hagar’s progeny is born into slavery according to flesh, the progeny of the other woman is born into freedom according to promise. In 3:21 Paul affirms that the law is not against the promise. When the law is construed solely as the giving of the law to Israel, the promise to all nations goes missing. Moreover, Sinai is conventionally construed as separating humanity into two groups—Ioudaioi and ethnē. Thus the Abrahamic promise for the blessing of all nations, which Paul understands to be in Christ, overturns this dichotomy of all humanity into Ioudaioi and the nations. Rather, in Christ the two categories are fused. Inversely, for the Galatians to believe that the promises to Abraham are available through circumcision, which is a synecdoche for the law construed as dividing all of humanity into Israel and everyone else, the ancient promise for all nations falls by the wayside. The imagery comes in pairs: two mothers, slavery and freedom (promise), two covenants, two Jerusalems. But the last pair surprises; it is “Jerusalem now” and “Jerusalem above.” “Now” does not stand over against future, and “above” does not stand over against below. To digress momentarily, the argument does not exploit Hagar as a non-Israelite in the least as some interpreters allege. Rather Paul reads the story through Isaiah, and significantly before he cites Isa 54:1, he focuses on two women. For both Isaiah and Paul the two correspond to Jerusalem (= Israel) in two different states—captivity and freedom. One is barren; the other is the mother of a boundless number of offspring. For Paul, certainly Jerusalem includes his addressees metaphorically, but Isaiah assuredly sings a song of hope and assurance for Jerusalem free from captivity. In Gal 3 Paul argued for Abraham’s paternity for the Galatians. Now he argues for Sarah’s maternity, who in both Genesis and Isaiah is the woman who is free. Jerusalem above corresponds to the “free woman,” “and she is our mother” (4:26). Two details beg for attention. (1) “Our” is inclusive as 4:31 shows. Paul again emphasizes the character of the ingroup as siblings and as children born into the freedom and fused in the family of Abraham and Sarah. (2) The tense in 4:26 is present. Citizenship in Jerusalem above is not future but present. Like fictive kinship fictive citizenship does not mean that it is not real. Rather, fictive citizenship means a kind of social identity embodied in ingroup life that is dictated neither by imperial domination nor by social control agents who insist on a kind of compliance with law. Paul’s reference to Isaac links the challenged status of the Galatians by the rivals to that of Isaac so that the identity of the Galatians as free children of promise is reaffirmed (4:28–31).

Freedom Embodied in Congregational Life (5:1–6:7) (5:1–12) Christ-Faith and Ethics The antithesis of slavery and freedom continues in Paul’s line of thought, and the capacity of his addressees to belong to either category forms the basis for his exhortation not to revert to the “yoke of slavery” (5:1). In 5:2 this means that the antithesis between circumcision and Christ is irreconcilable for the Galatians. Paul elaborates this incompatibility by making circumcision a synecdoche of the entire law and equating it with attempts to be rectified by law (5:3–4). To be sure, he counters this incompatibility with Christology but first with an appeal again to the experience of the spirit: “For in the spirit we eagerly await the hope of rectification by [Christ-]faith” (5:5). When he turns to Christology, he uses “in Christ” as a quasiname for the ingroup: “In Christ neither circumcision nor foreskin has any power” (5:6), and this

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is reminiscent of the baptismal formula in 3:28. Paul’s primary assumption is that one way of construing law divides all humanity into Ioudaioi and the nations—a division that he now judges to be inconsequential. What does have power is Christ-faith that is embodied in love (5:6). With this Paul introduces a question that has been only barely beneath the surface since his declaration in 3:24–25 that with the coming of Christ-faith, the function of law as a disciplinarian comes to an end: Without law, what determines the ethics of members of the “in Christ” group? But a digression on the wavering reception of Paul’s mission puts his answer on hold. First, he compliments his addressees for maintaining group norms (5:7), which indeed is a source that determines behavior. As in 1:6 he again plays on the ambiguity of the one who calls them (5:8). To reiterate, Paul so identifies himself with his mission that to accept God as the one who calls the Galatians is to accept him, and vice versa. Then he lays the responsibility of the assemblies’ wavering at the feet of someone he calls a “troubler” (5:10), and he expunges himself as if others claim that if Paul preaches circumcision he would not be persecuted (5:11). This too is reminiscent of his comment in 2:18: “If I build up what I once destroyed, I established myself as a sinner.” From our empire-critical perspective, we suspect that given the special status that Rome granted to Ioudaioi to follow their ancestral traditions, the persecution Paul mentions (5:11) has something to do with theo-political implications of the formation of assemblies associated with Ioudaioi, but not fully integrated into Israel’s heritage. That is, Paul’s rivals argued that these assemblies formed a group partially but not fully associated with Israel, which threatened their standing before imperial powers. But aside from such suspicions, this statement leaves us in the dark. Paul then returns to the accountability of his rivals and expresses his desire that they dismiss themselves from the Galatians. For reasons that we are unable to comprehend, construals of this text from as early as Chrysostom, but especially translations, and commentaries in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries have taken the future middle of the verb apokoptō to express an unfulfilled wish that the rivals would castrate themselves (5:12). True, Greek middle verbs can refer in a reflexive sense to body parts that are not explicitly mentioned. But if the rivals are encouraging the Galatians to become circumcised, then these rivals’ own circumcision would lie in the past, and a perspective toward their future emasculation would be anachronistic. Further, when one reads the Greek fluently, castration hardly suggests itself. These are but two rationales to take the verb as a wish that they would dismiss themselves, which is abundantly attested in translations such as the Geneva Bible, Luther Bible, Reina Valera (1909), King James, etc. Needless to say, the translation plays a significant role in how Paul others this outgroup. In our view, he does not other them by suggesting crude self-mutilation, which would imply that he buffoons circumcision for Ioudaioi. To be sure, he does oppose circumcision for the nations. But here he desires that these influencers separate themselves from the Galatian assemblies. (5:13–26) Ethics of Freedom in the Spirit After this digression, Paul takes up the ethics of freedom, that is, ethics for the children of the free mother as in 4:31. Again the quasi-name siblings (adelphoi) and freedom identify the ingroup. Social identity theory maintains that group norms are strong determinants for behavior, and markers of the Galatians’ identity as siblings of the free woman form the basis for Paul’s exhortation. He begins with the equivalent of a “thou shalt not,” and personifies bad behavior as begotten from an external source that he calls “flesh”: “Do not use freedom as an opportunity for the flesh” (5:13). Flesh acquires meaning by its juxtaposition 372

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to what it is not. It is not the kind of love embodied in living like slaves of one another: “Rather, through love serve one another” (5:13). Here it is obvious that mutually serving one another as slaves eviscerates the hierarchical dominance in slavery as a social institution. Surprisingly, the law returns and finds a place in considering what constitutes behavior according to “flesh” and what is synonymous with love: “For the entire law is fulfilled in one commandment, namely, you shall love your neighbor as yourself ” (5:14). True, the function of law for Christ-followers is no longer to restrain, but law is not abrogated. Paul previously argued that law enslaves; he now presents its purpose as loving the other as oneself. Just as flesh is defined by what it is not, so also love is defined by what it is not. It is not biting, devouring, and consuming the other (5:15). Love thus stands as the epitome of norms for the kinfolk of the ingroup who are children of the free woman. Another exhortation personifies the opposing counterpart of “flesh” as spirit. The positive imperative is to pursue life in the spirit; negatively an imperative in the form of a subjunctive of strong denial insists that they will “in no way carry out desire from the flesh” (5:16). Behind this is the presupposition, mentioned above, that dynamic forces (“flesh,” “spirit”) outside personal existence beget human behavior. Nevertheless, the imperatives demonstrate that everyone remains responsible for their own conduct. Paul presents these two powers of spirit and flesh as vigorously struggling on the axis of desire, and the influence of flesh over humans can render them unable to do what they desire (5:17). Barclay (206) defines “flesh” as what is merely human. But this hardly does justice to the struggle between two powers. This struggle in humans is often understood as simultaneous, but on the basis of texts such as 2:19–20; 5:6; and 5:24, Hofius (156) demonstrates that humans are not subjected to these powers simultaneously. Rather, those who are in Christ and pursue life in the spirit will in no way carry out desire from the flesh. With this readers arrive at the heart of Paul’s ethics for the in-Christ ingroup. As we have already emphasized, to be no longer subject to law is resolutely conditional: Only “if you (plural) are led by the spirit,” are you “not under law” (5:18). Two lists of ingroup norms follow. The first is a vice list that qualifies behavior negatively under the rubric of what the “flesh” begets (“works,” plural). Many of the vices would garner general disapproval from the culture, and in fact Paul presumes that this list requires no further warrant (Wolter, 307). Sexual immorality, idolatry, and sorcery stand out particularly as vices according to Israelite values, and the remainder correspond largely to threats to ingroup solidarity (5:19–21). But another qualification indicating that the flesh begets such behavior is the exclusion of those who do such things as heirs of God’s dominion (basileia). Such conduct does not correspond to God’s way of ruling over the assemblies of God’s people (5:21). Interpreters point repeatedly to the singular “fruit” of the spirit (5:22), in contrast to the “works” (plural) of flesh. This is in line with Alfred Whitehead’s observation (276) that over against “the motive force of mutual love” (solidarity), evil is “the brute motive force of fragmentary purpose” that cannot be unified (factionalism). Further, the metaphor of fruit substantiates the character of the spirit to engender behavior. De Boer (362) suggests considering love (agapē), which exists always and only in relationships, as the singular fruit of the spirit, whereas the characteristics that follow are aspects of love. Although Paul gives extraordinary status to love, the remaining list of virtues is so at home in the Greco-Roman world that general approval is natural: “Against such things there is no law” (5:22–23) (Wolter, 307; Betz, 281–82). Further, the generation of love from the spirit and the accompanying characteristics mean that this behavior describes the 373

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result of the ingroup being led by the spirit corporately (Martyn, 535). In 2:19 Paul is crucified with Christ; now the ingroup becomes executioners who crucify the flesh with what it begets (5:24). Paul’s ethics is a matter of life and death, living in the spirit means that flesh is dead (5:25, Hofius). So Paul again expresses ingroup norms of solidarity regarding what it means to follow the spirit (5:16). (6:1–10) Ethics Embodied in Serving One Another in the Family of Faith Paul encourages group solidarity all the more by providing guidance for dealing with violations of group norms. Again, the quasi-name siblings (adelphoi) implies unity and is complemented by designating some of the Galatians “spiritual” (pnematikoi), that is, group members who are indeed led by the spirit. Further, Paul presents violations of norms as improbable (ean with the subjunctive presupposes something that is unlikely). But from the perspective of those who act to restore, restoration of violators is equivalent to being led by the spirit. Nevertheless, the problem of transgressing group norms invites a call to vigilance from the violator’s point of view also (6:1). Again, ethics is not merely individualistic but corporate. Group solidarity is also manifest in helping each other with burdens. Two different nouns represent what one must bear (6:2, 5). But the same verb in both cases implies that v. 5 reiterates v. 2. The first case takes the larger group’s perspective over against one who bears burdens (6:2), whereas the second takes the perspective of the individual who bears the load (6:5). In short, because all have a load, the group has a task of radical mutuality—bearing the burdens of others as slaves on one another (5:13). Esler (231) resists associating the law of Christ with Torah, inasmuch as he thinks that 5:13 means a total replacement of the law. Our opinion is that the spirit leads Christ-followers beyond explicit prescriptions in the law, so that 5:14 values the summation of the whole law as loving the other as one loves self (5:13–14). Further, the echo of 5:14 in 6:2 demonstrates what it means for the assemblies to be led by the spirit (5:18, 25). But this reiteration exceeds a mere repetition because it represents a gain in the perception of ethics. That is, ethical behavior is evoked by a relationship with God, and this in turn comes through an encounter with Christ that is marked by the reception of the spirit. “Let one who is taught share all good things with one who teaches the word” (Gal 6:6) appears to be an isolated saying. Granted, especially because the verb for sharing is koinōneō, it can be construed as an elaboration of mutually bearing burdens. Contextually it is part of ensuring the solidarity of the ingroup. Or it can imply supplying goods for the support of a teacher, particularly if the maxim regarding sowing and reaping is interpreted in the agricultural sense of benefiting from work (6:7). On the other hand, “sowing and reaping” is widely used metaphorically, and in that Paul mixes in personifications of flesh and spirit, overtones for how the assemblies are to be led by the spirit are strong. This too cannot fail to fit Paul’s portrayal of ingroup kinship in the “household of faith” (6:9–10).

Epistolary Conclusion (6:11–18) Epistles often end with general commendations. This closing, however, remains intimately related to Paul’s basic argument. When he calls attention to the large letters of his own writing (6:11) and juxtaposes this with evaluating his rivals (6:12), he intimates the expansiveness of his own

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concern at the expense of what he regards as their concern for themselves. He raises the stakes enormously when he represents the position of the rivals as disregarding the centrality of the cross of Christ. Paul also repeats his earlier claim that circumcision would imply an obligation to obey the entire law (see 5:3). Indeed, he alleges that the rivals themselves do not keep the law (6:13). Rather, influencing the Galatians to receive circumcision would redound to the rival’s power of persuasion. With this Paul renews the antitheses that have characterized his letter. Good news versus law, freedom versus slavery, and spirit versus flesh have their analogues in crucifixion versus boasting (6:13–14). On the one hand, crucifixion means death, a metaphorical death for Paul himself as an ingroup prototype, that is, a concrete case of embodied crucifixion, and a metaphorical death for the world (6:14). The world that dies construes law as a division of humanity into two groups (Ioudaioi and the nations). Beyond crucifixion, beyond the death of those who are in Christ, beyond the death of the world, lies a construal of reality that Paul calls “new creation” (6:15), which by definition is a radically new identity. He pronounces a benediction on those who follow this new construal (kanōn): “peace upon them” (6:16). But what about Israel? Wolter (402–3) has a strong argument that because Paul has just established the rule (kanōn) of the new creation, those who follow this rule cannot be historical Israel. Thus, he contends that Paul renames those who follow the new construal, including believers from the nations, “the Israel of God.” We see things differently. First, our reading of Galatians has not led us to perceive the polemic against the rivals as brutal. For example, we do not construe 5:12 as a crude suggestion that the influencers castrate themselves, but rather than they would “get lost” (see above on 5:12). Second, we think that the syntax of 6:16b supports a reading different from Wolter’s. This depends on two occurrences of kai. The first kai joins two clauses: “peace upon them (those who follow the new construal)” and “mercy upon the Israel of God.” Only this translation omits the second kai, which in our reading is an adverb (“also”), which introduces a group that is different from those who follow the new construal: “and mercy also upon the Israel of God” (6:16). We think furthermore that this has an antecedent in Paul’s use of the two women from Isa 54:1 in Gal 4:27. This text is a song of assurance and hope for Jerusalem (= Israel). In 4:25–27 these two women correspond to Jerusalem now and Jerusalem above, and as we indicated citizenship in the latter is a present reality. For us, the benediction reads: “Peace upon them (followers of the new construal) and mercy also upon the Israel of God” (5:16). Finally, Paul brands himself with the marks of Christ, again making himself a prototype in the sense of a concrete embodiment of ingroup norms (6:17), and he prays for ingroup solidarity for the assemblies who experience the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, in one spirit and who bear the quasi-name of kinship—“siblings” (adelphoi, 6:18).

References Bakhtin, Mikhail. Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics. Translated and edited by Caryl Emerson. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984. Barclay, John. Obeying the Truth: Paul’s Ethics in Galatians. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991. Baumann, Gerd. “Grammars of Identity / Alterity: A Structural Approach.” Pages 18–50 in Grammars of Identity / Alterity: A Structural Approach. Edited by G. Baumann and Andre Gingrich. New York: Berghahn, 2004. 375

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Betz, Hans Dieter. Galatians: A Commentary on Paul’s Letter to the Churches in Galatia. Hermeneia. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979. Boer, Martinus de. Galatianss: A Commentary. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2011. Brawley, Robert. “Contextuality, Intertextuality, and the Hendiadic Relationship of Promise and Law in Galatians.” ZNW 93 (2002): 99–119. Ehrensperger, Kathy. Paul and the Dynamics of Power: Communication and Interaction in the Early Christian Movement. LNTS 325. London: T&T Clark, 2007. Elliott, John. “The Evil Eye and the Sermon on the Mount: Contours of a Pervasive Belief in Social Scientific Perspective.” BibInt 2 (1994): 51–84. Esler, Philip. Galatians. New Testament Readings. London: Routledge, 1998. Hodge, Caroline Johnson. If Sons, then Heirs: A Study of Kinship and Ethnicity in the Letters of Paul. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. Hofius, Otfried. “Widerstreit zwischen Fleisch und Geist? Erwägungen zu Gal. 5:17.” Pages 147–59 in Der Mensch vor Gott: Forschungen zum Menschenbild in Bibel, antikem Judentum und Koran. Edited by Ulrike Mittmann-Richert, et al. Neukirchen Vluyn: Neukirchener, 2003. Horrell, David. “From ἀδελφοί to οἴκος θεοῦ: Social Transformation in Pauline Christianity.” JBL 120 (2001): 293–311. Kahl, Brigitte. Galatians Re-Imagined: Reading with the Eyes of the Vanquished. Paul in Critical Contexts. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2010. Lee, Jae Won. Paul and the Politics of Difference: A Contextual Study of the Jewish-Gentile Difference in Galatians and Romans. Eugene: Pickwick, 2014. Martin, Dale. Slavery as Salvation: The Metaphor of Slavery in Pauline Christianity. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990. Martyn, J. Louis. Galatians: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. Anchor Bible 33A. New York: Doubleday, 1997. Mitchell, Steven. “Galatia.” ABD 2: 870–2, 1992. Nanos, Mark. The Irony of Galatians: Paul’s Letter in First-Century Context. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2002. Niehbuhr, Karl-Wilhelm. Heidenapostel aus Israel: Die jüdische Identität des Paulus nach ihrer Darstellung in seinen Briefen. Tübingen: Mohr, 1992. Olick, Jeffrey. “Products, Processes, and Practices: A Non-Reificatory Approach to Collective Memory.” BTB 36 (2006): 5–14. Swancutt, Diana. “‘Class’ and Paul’s Rhetoric of Adoption of Slaves as Sons and Heirs.” In Religion and Class in Antiquity: Explorations of Jewish and Christian Writings in Their Social Contexts. Edited by G. Anthony Keddie, Michael Flexsenhar, and Steven Friesen. Writings from the Greco-Roman World Supplement. Atlanta: SBL, forthcoming. Whitehead, Alfred. Science and the Modern World. New York: Macmillan, 1925. Wolter, Michael. Paul: An Outline of His Theology. Translated by Robert Brawley. Waco: Baylor University Press, 2015.

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Ephesians Minna Shkul

Introduction Authorship The letter bears the name of Paul, with an added title stressing the credentials of the author as “an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God” (1:1). Authorship is debated in contemporary scholarship (Hoehner, 1–130) and views on authorship may affect our study of Ephesians’ identity construction. If the letter is read as Pauline, we could examine differences as evidence for refinement of his views, or his Christian reflection as a consequence of his imprisonment. Maybe Paul was more aware of the bigger picture when writing Ephesians. However, relying on my earlier work (Shkul), this commentary examines what post-Pauline authorship would mean for the construction of early Christian identity. The key developments in Ephesians’ social identity formation are different from expected ritual culture and ideological vision as compared with the undisputed Pauline letters. Ephesians does not contain discourse of charismatic religious experience, “gifts of the spirit,” urgency of mission, or expectation of immediate parousia. Instead, the letter provides evidence for a more institutionalized community. It provides theological legitimation for non-Israelite inclusion, different leadership terminology, developed statements of faith, and a socially conservative household code. The shift in identity discourse and its legitimating theology suggest that these may be later developments, rather than rethinking that occurred during the apostle’s lifetime. The absence of co-authors and co-workers of Paul is also unusual, but it seems a deliberate way the letter puts Paul on a pedestal, as the apostle par excellence. Tychicus, described as “a dear brother and faithful minister in the Lord,” delivers the letter (6:21–22). We find Tychicus also in Colossians, along with other associates of Paul (4:7–17). Colossians and Ephesians have a close literary relationship, and both include unique developments on “gentile inclusion,” rethinking the importance of the Mosaic Law, and household instructions that promote social assimilation in their local context. I will examine how the writer is adapting Paul’s legacy for ethnically pluralistic communities, where some distancing from Paul’s Jewish context is already evident. I use “Jew” and cognate terms instead of “Judean” which would have originally been a reference to an ethnic group in a particular region, Judea. It seems Ephesians uses the label in an extended fashion, beyond its original meaning as an ethnic group label.

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Date and Provenance Like authorship, date and provenance are also uncertain. The correlation of these questions to one’s views on authorship and date aside, the inclusion of the “in Ephesus” location in 1:1 is a later textual variant, as most of the earliest manuscripts do not have the mention of “Ephesus” at all. There is no link to Paul’s mission in Ephesus, which included a two-year long series of debates in the Tyrannus hall (Acts 18:1–7; 19:1–10). The earliest witnesses include Marcion, who associated the letter with Laodicea (see Col 2:1–3, 4:15–16). Despite manuscript differences concerning destination, the letter was known to church fathers from the late first century, and referenced as early as the works of Ignatius of Antioch. So, while the destination is uncertain, it became associated with both Ephesus and apostolic authorship early on.

Occasion The letter describes Paul as “the ambassador in chains” in 6:20, thus the imprisonment (or its memory) provides the occasion for writing instructions to the faithful. This occasion is significantly different from Pauline correspondence that addresses conflicts within the early Christ-movement. I will discuss how Ephesians develops the Pauline tradition, and how the idea of a chained ambassador is a guide for communal memory that grants authority to the identity discourse. This identity discourse reflects circumstances in later times, when the early parousia failed to materialize. Pseudonymity does therefore provide an important foundation for applying the Pauline legacy and theology, especially as a response to the absence of Christ’s return. It is precisely writing “from” the apostle, in “his name” that provides the writer, the social entrepreneur, an opportunity to direct the early Christ-followers. The power and authority to direct believers is achieved through language that strengthens the authority of the tradition and presents it as “God’s eternal mystery” (3:8–10).

Purpose The letter is addressed to Christ-following “gentiles” and it elaborates on the importance of their inclusion while also giving instructions about their lifestyle. Ephesians offers cognitive legitimation to development of the Pauline legacy, which was too narrowly focused on particular conflicts and debates characterizing early stages of gentile inclusion. Ephesians relies on, and assumes the validity of, Pauline theology. It provides further fine-tuning for early Christian identity and social memory. Gone are the days of debates and disputes, declares the letter. It proposes that “in Christ” the non-Israelite believer and Israel both transform into “one new humanity” and thus old divisions and hostilities over observance of the Mosaic Law should not divide the community any longer. The language of new humanity seems to provide the basis for both ecclesiological views and ethical persuasion within the letter. The writer positions the believers in a reformed Jewish symbolic universe, experiencing God’s presence, and mimicking Israel’s holiness as his new people in Christ. The writer takes inspiration from Jewish traditions and biblical language

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about Israel’s covenant with God. These are then blended with other influences, which provide models for respectable households. It is also, and perhaps most unexpectedly, blended with images from Roman military power, which contributes to the shaping of identity and communal prototypes that inspire the community for inner strength and perseverance.

Social Identity Approach The reading of Ephesians in this commentary focuses on Tajfel and Turner’s social identity approach, and Halbwach’s social memory perspective, which together form the basis of a theoretical framework for examining how past traditions—of Israel, Jesus, and Paul—are remembered and reimagined in the service of later Christ-followers from different ethnicities. Social memory is a useful vehicle for understanding social identity when this identity refers to the past but functions in the present. In other words, social identity formation is not just about the articulation of the author’s new beliefs and ideas. Instead, faith, religious practice, and lived experience are based on adaptations to previous cultural heritage, and these earlier traditions give authority to reformist ideas surrounding ethnic inclusivity. Thus, Ephesians’ vision for early Christian social identity blends ideas from Jewish faith, Messianic conviction of salvation for Israel and others in Christ, and inclusion of strangers into God’s people, now expanded in Christ. The study of social identity in this commentary assumes a Jewish Paul, whose ideas were articulated by an unknown pseudonymous writer who interpreted Paul’s disputes over law as concerned primarily for inclusion of ethnic others. Critique of Israel’s covenant, belief, or religious observances are not directed at Jewish people themselves, or Paul’s personal religiosity, but they serve to establish that Israel’s ethnic covenant is not relevant for Jesus’s followers from other ethnicities. It is not assumed here that Paul or the writer “converted” or left their previous identity behind, but that both Paul and the deutero-Pauline writer reformulated their previous identity and convictions in light of Christ, working out what Jesus’s messiahship meant for other ethnicities.

Commentary Foundations of Social Identity (1:1–23) (1:1–3) Apostolic Address The letter opening follows Greco-Roman media conventions: beginning with the name of the sender, “Paul”; the sender’s position, “an apostle by the will of God”; and details about the addressee, “saints who are in Ephesus, and are faithful in Christ Jesus.” The letter reminds its readers of Paul’s calling and its acclaimed divine legitimacy, akin to undisputed letters (see, for example, 1 Cor 1:1; 2 Cor 1:1; Gal 1:1). This may have contributed to authentic feel of the letter, but it also serves important legitimating function, as the will of God and Paul’s role in its administration are frequent reminders of apostolic authority throughout the letter. Paul’s authority is important for assuring the audience that Israel’s God is behind this

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movement, since association with the community must have socially marginalized the intended recipients. The identity-shaping discourse begins at the opening salutation where the implied recipients are called “saints” and “believers.” This enfolds them into the community of Christ-followers. We are used to the term “saints” for Christians, but the Greek word means “holy ones” (hagiois) and it highlights their consecration as God’s “sacred” people. Holiness has ritual and cultic connotations of purity and set-apartness. In Ephesians it describes not physical buildings or sacred objects, but people who are dedicated to God’s service (2:22). When the writer uses “holy ones,” he confirms their inclusion in God’s people. He will later elaborate on their glorious inheritance (1:18), ethnic reconciliation (2:19), articles of faith (4:1–16), expected lifestyle (5:3), and prayerful communal orientation (6:18). Their inclusion and consecration are elaborated in the following section, but these are based on their faith in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Some commentators have discussed whether “our Father” (1:2) betrays a bias between Israelites and ethnic others, and whether the “we” language in Ephesians 1 refers to Jewish believers and “you” to recipients with other ethnic identities. If so, the benediction would be arrogant and exclusive, since the blessings described would not belong to the believers addressed. Given that believers represent “one new humanity” (2:15), I find it more persuasive to consider that the first-person plural language is inclusive and identity building. I take the first person “we” language in the letter to refer to all believers in Christ, and “you” as a way of referring particularly to the addressees from different ethnicities. (1:4–14) Celebration of the Ingroup The thanksgiving develops key aspects of ingroup identity and provides believers with new language for their identity anchored “in Christ.” These are “invented traditions,” since their identity as God’s chosen people is celebrated with different literary images that reach back before the creation. In fact, the entire thanksgiving is comprised of controversial claims that are matters of faith that would have been debatable to “other” Israelites beyond the Jesus-movement, and these statements would have been quite unusual to non-Israelite Christ-followers, depending on their knowledge of the Jewish faith and their previous affiliation with Jewish networks or synagogue movements. The identity that is formed is marginal or subcultural, since it is based on an executed Palestinian preacher as the culmination of God’s plans. The believers are told they are the climax of God’s plans for humanity, chosen “before the foundation of the world” (1:4). This is significant for identity and social positioning of the community, as the believers are depicted as part of God’s plan conceived before the covenants with Abraham, and Moses. They—along with Israel-in-Christ—embody the eternal mystery of God, now revealed through the apostolic mission. The language of ritual purity continues with the designation “holy and blameless” connecting the believers to many exemplary figures in Israel’s history: Noah (Gen 6:9), Abram (Gen 17:1), Job (1:1), and God’s consecrated people (Deut 18:13). These insights may not have been known to the audience if they lacked detailed literacy of the Torah, but they illustrate the significance of transformed Jewish concepts for our writer, who makes room in the Jewish symbolic universe for the audience. This is because the believers have been “destined for adoption” as God’s children, despite their ethnicity (1:5). This extends the privileges of Israel to ethnic others (Rom 9:4; Deut 7:6). Their blessing is based on redemption and forgiveness in Christ’s blood (1:7). While we might be familiar with the sacrificial theology, the idea of God’s son dying as a sacrificial offering 380

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would have been contentious. Roman authors, despite the typical cruelty of the regime, abhorred human sacrifice. The death that brings “forgiveness” builds on language of the Jewish sacrificial cult (Lev 16), but this is again applied to the Christ-movement as “the mystery of his will” (1:8–10). The identity-enhancing language continues with further references to inheritance, predestination, seal of the Holy Spirit, and the promise of “redemption as God’s own people” (1:11–14). The writer anchors social identity in the symbolic language. The discourse imagines spiritual realities, blessings and rewards, extended to the “nations” (NRSV: “gentiles”). The writer makes no reference to the ethnic origins of the recipients or the value of their religious traditions, which are thus not significant as part of their social memory. From the very start of the letter, we find evidence for resocialization of non-Jewish recipients, as their ethnic origins and traditions are reconfigured, and language of new identity makes use of Israelite, or Jewish traditions for initiation, and inclusion. (1:14–23) Prestigious Blessing of the Recipients Paul’s identity entrepreneurship continues with an extravagant prayer for further spiritual enlightenment. First, the prayer gives a significant clue about the writer’s relationship with the audience. “I have heard of your faith” and “your love toward all the saints” (1:15) are usually taken as evidence to suggest that the relationship between the writer and addressed community is an impersonal one. The more personal greetings like those found in Romans are missing, and there is no evidence of other personal relationships in the letter. Therefore, the social influencing and social identity formation are based on apostolic legacy, not on exemplar influence or personal leadership. The recipients are flattered with affectionate endorsement “I do not cease to give thanks for you” (1:16). The prayer is clearly part of an influencing strategy. Spiritual enlightenment is articulated as God’s gift through the “spirit of wisdom and revelation” (1:17). This relies upon supernatural action of God, so that those who believe might have “the eyes of [their] your heart” enlightened to know the hope, the riches of his glorious inheritance” and the “immeasurable greatness of his power” (1:17–19). The prayer will be answered if the community manifests increased understanding and internalizes the concepts it outlines. If we unpack the social meanings of the spiritual language here, the goal of the prayer seems to be to produce a reflective theological community who accepts the “apostolic” teaching the letter provides. The prayer connects the power of God in the life of the community with the resurrection and exaltation of Christ (1:19–20). Christ is seated at God’s right hand in the heavenly places (1:20), and the letter uses political language to articulate superiority above “all rule and authority and power and dominion” and “above every name that is named, not only in this age, but also in the age to come” (1:21). While many commentators take the reference to the powers here to be spiritual, supernatural beings, others consider this a counter-political proclamation against human political authorities. Ephesians does comment on “spiritual enemies” in its closing speech in 6:10–17, but the powers subjected to Christ probably include political and cosmic powers alike.

Ethnicity and New Identity (2:1–22) Ephesians 2–3 offers unique material that shapes early Christian memory of Jesus (ch. 2) and Paul (ch. 3). These chapters have been traditionally considered “theological,” but the extent of the

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resocialization through new ways of thinking about the past that is imposed on the ethnic others is quite striking. These chapters shape the reputations and shared communal memory of both Jesus and Paul, uniquely interpreting their memory. New beliefs relating to the Jewish law and the will of God are used to justify the socio-ideological positions of the community. (2:1–10) Otherness of the Nations: New Identity Built upon Deficient Past Identity Ephesians 2 begins by imposing a retrospective reinterpretation of the past upon believers from various ethnicities. The writer portrays a negative idea (otherness of the nations), and then celebrates its resolution “in Christ” (their inclusion). For example, Ephesians makes the Christ event even more meaningful by stressing the alienation and spiritual death of the nations. The believer’s past is remembered “through Christ” and their actual past is not remembered at all. Some intended recipients may have even been Ephesians of proud heritage (see Acts 19:23–41), but there is no appeal to their heritage. The believers are not given any resources from communal ideology or tradition to uphold their ethnic story or acknowledge their philosophical orientation prior to their existence in Christ. Instead, the writer determines, “You were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once lived, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient” (2:1–2). The author constructs identity by reinterpreting the past, denouncing the value of life “before Christ,” which is dismissed as spiritual death—a life of sin ruled by “the spirit” who manipulates “the disobedient.” This may appear to be stereotypical bias against “the [gentile] other,” but the letter claims that the apostle himself, like everyone else, once lived “in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else” (2:3). Shortly after this more universal statement, however, the value of Jewishness is soon reiterated when the writer reminds others of the covenant (2:12). As usual, believers’ new identity is constructed against “otherness” of non-members, and the letter begins to build ideas about both ingroups and outgroups. The author contrasts the “children of wrath” with “children of God” (1:5). The gentile world apart from Christ is not a neutral backdrop for the community. The letter makes negative evaluations of non-members, intensified in chapters 4–5, contrasting good practice with bad practice and reminding the readers that the “disobedient” will be judged by God (see 2:3; 5:6). But first, having reminded the audience of their past faults and ontological deficiency, the writer moves on to recount the story of salvation, again highlighting the blessings believers share with Christ, being “made alive with him,” “raised together with,” and “seated together” with Christ in the heavenly places (2:4–6). These three expressions are compound words that link the believers’ experience with “Christ” (sunezōopoiēsen, sunēgeiren, and sunekathisen). The expressions exceed the eschatological imagination of the writer’s contemporaries, which is interesting for two reasons. First, the believers’ story is told using language similar to their savior’s story—and in every cases the new life, exaltation, and session in the heavenly places is a matter of transcendence and faith, beyond human verification. Second, it applies divine characteristics to human beings, both Jesus and the believers. This probably explains why the symbolic language endured, as it captivates the imagination to believe the unbelievable: the executed Jewish man is exalted in glory, and so are we, his followers. This section also provides some of the more tangible connections to Pauline theology through repeated assertions that “by grace you have been saved” (2:5, 8). There is significant debate 382

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about what constitutes the “works” and what is meant by “boasting.” Are these merely deuteroPauline echoes of well-known debates, included to provide an authenticating effect? Is the phrase important for preserving apostolic legacy (Rom 3:27; 5:11; Gal 6:14)? Or is the phrase relevant in some other way to the implied audience? We cannot be sure. Nevertheless, literary context suggests that the writer reframes the Pauline quotation in identity-enhancing praise. Their inclusion is a divine gift, which will be fully revealed “in the ages to come” when God will “show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness towards us in Christ Jesus” (2:7). The anticipation is paired with a sense of calling and participation: the believers are told they are God’s “workmanship” for a divine purpose (Rom 1:20), “created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life” (2:10). Ephesians dreams of a destiny where believers live holy and virtuous lives, occupying a central place in God’s plans (see ch. 3). We will next see how the ekklēsia relates to Israel. (2:11–22) Constructing Identity through Ethnic Reconciliation and Inclusivity Although this passage is perhaps best known for its language of inclusion and “ethnic reconciliation,” the pericope may still bear signs of deeply rooted ingroup attitudes and biased treatment of the “other” by the author. Despite its positive resolution, I see in this passage an example of implicit bias—prejudice that influences how the writer thinks about ethnic others. Psychology of prejudice has clearly established that awareness of boundaries of identity and cultural distinctiveness is not easily undone, even if we have a common ingroup identity. In other words, although the author reflects on reconciliation, and community “in Christ,” he cannot completely undo previous categories of identity. Those categories permeate his discussion of Israel and others, their relation to God, covenant, and, later, ethics. Prejudice is not unnatural or a negative trait only of unpleasant people, but something that all humans use to navigate social variation, based on our own social identities. Consequently, Ephesians displays implicit bias regarding non-Israelite ethnicities, and the author’s attempt to provide a positive resolution for their otherness. The identity construction of Eph 2:11–22 involves the writer’s unlearning of previous biases and making room for others. The bias may be seen in reminding the audience of their ethnic otherness: “So then, remember that at one time you Gentiles by birth, called ‘the uncircumcision’ by those who are called ‘the circumcision’—a physical circumcision made in the flesh by human hands.” I prefer to translate “gentiles” as ethnic others. The focus on these ethnic others may illustrate the writer’s bias, or ethnic prejudice, which he actually wants people to remember. This is a bit like the “benevolent colonizer.” This is a charter for establishing a “commonwealth,” but the superior insists on injecting a degree of preeminence into the inclusive constitution. It is also useful to remember that no one would have self-identified as a “gentile” because the word means “nations.” People would have referred to their particular identity, instead. This stereotyping is probably not too different to the use of terms like “foreigners” or “migrants” today used for a “strangers” or “outsiders” in our midst. Similarly, the labels “uncircumcision” and “circumcision” categorize “others” from the Jewish position, articulating ingroup versus outgroup boundaries based upon ritual markers of identity and belonging. While different ethnicities are included in God’s people “in Christ,” the writer is still acutely mindful of the non-Israelites’ foreignness. At first, the focus is on what they were lacking, but later, that otherness includes negativity toward their cultural difference (see 4:17–5:20). 383

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It is significant that the ethnic others are told to “remember” their otherness. This creates two subcategories “in Christ,” as the following goes on to explain. This is not exactly inclusive language, as the benevolent inclusion of the “nations” is articulated from a position of superiority. The difference of the covenant people is embodied in flesh, and the writer uses shorthand for this: “the uncircumcision” and “the circumcision.” The “physical circumcision” may well relativize the Jewish ritual, as circumcision no longer defines bodies acceptable to God. Interestingly, circumcision is not granted prestige. It is reinterpreted as a “spiritual” ritual for those “in Christ.” This provides an interesting example of the differences between identity formation in Ephesians and that in Colossians, which refers to believers’ circumcision “with a spiritual circumcision”— that is, “the circumcision of Christ” in baptism (Col 2:11–12). Ephesians does not develop language about language, or ritual critique of Jewishness in the same way as Colossians does. “Remember that you were at that time without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world” (2:12). The previous identity of the addressed community is yet again undermined, this time in terms of a political alienation. They are in a precarious situation, lacking the rights of citizenship, the benefits of the state (covenants), or security (without hope, or God). The term “commonwealth” in English translations is politeia in Greek, which otherwise only occurs in the NT only in Acts 22:28. There it is translated as “citizenship,” and it appears when a Roman commander admits to having secured his politeia financially, while Paul boasts that he possessed it from birth. This is another development of identity discourse, which articulates God’s covenant in political terms, imagining into being an otherworldly citizenship for God’s people. This verse also gives us a fascinating use of the term “atheist” (atheoi, “without God”) as a designation of spiritual or religious otherness. It is thought that the writer repeats a critique of monotheism in Greek literature, which sometimes called the Jews atheoi based on their rejection other deities. If this is true, the author here turns the tables, calling polytheists atheists regarding Israel’s God. This rhetorical move may have evoked ideas of conflict and dispute in its ancient context, or at least to the writer himself. “But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us” (2:13–14). Having reminded non-Israelites about their inferiority, past divisions are now addressed, as the writer examines the removal of hostilities. The writer returns to positive ingroup language that proclaims “peace,” that is, social harmony. The reference to the dividing wall has been interpreted as a wall separating the ethnicities in Jerusalem temple, or a dividing curtain that indicated separation in sacred space (Hoehner, 366–71). However, no such allegory is needed, as the division is clarified as hostility itself and many commentators believe the hostility stems from bias and cultural difference, generated by cultic and moral laws in the Torah. The language of inclusion develops simultaneously two ideas of change, one concerning time and one concerning space. “Now” (nuni) indicates a constitutional change, as the ethnic restrictions Ephesians implies are removed and shared space is created for Christ-followers from any background. Any social distance or otherness is now denounced in the inclusive era brought about “the blood of Christ.” It is useful to remember, though, that the early Jesus-movement utilized preexisting Jewish language of recruitment and inclusion, seen, for example, in “proselyte” terminology used in Acts of the Apostles. This indicates different levels of interethnic association 384

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in Jewish networks (Acts 2:10; 6:5, 13:43). While the passage at hand refers to Jesus’s blood and the cross, Ephesians develops unique meanings for his sacrifice. The text claims that they provide a resolution to ethnic divisions, which were part and parcel of Israel’s distinctiveness. This is not merely conflict resolution. It actually undermines the covenant as a means of securing privilege from God, as the passage will go on to outline. “He has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, so that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it” (2:15–16). Ephesians proclaims new identity through the cross, employing a Christocentric view of the law and its significance as a community boundary. It is important to remember that the statement about the law is proclaimed to ethnic others, who are outside the law already. They should not be included in God’s people by becoming Jewish or adopting Torah observance. The law no longer provides community boundaries or signifies membership in God’s people. Although we cannot say much about Ephesians’ social context with any certainty, this much seems clear: to be able to proclaim that “[Christ] has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances” indicates that some social distancing has already taken place. It would be odd to denounce the law if it was operative in the community, otherwise we would have expected a debate about the unequivocal importance of the law rather than the peace or reconciliation that the text describes. The brevity of this statement suggests to me that the writer is drawing writer’s self as well as others into this ethnic inclusivity. This is also one of the clearest differences between Ephesians and Romans, which imagined coexistence of different ethnicities in its famous olive tree metaphor, in a manner that maintained different groups and, in all likelihood, different covenants (Rom 11:17–32). The new ingroup is described with radical terminology as “new humanity.” This metaphor proclaims newness for both ethnicities, Jewish and non-Jewish, and it could imply that for Ephesians ethnicity is not a fluid concept but something primordial and unchanging, as if overcoming differences would be impossible in the pluralistic coexistence of ethnicities. In other words, Ephesians does not develop an inclusive umbrella for diversity, and coexistence, but rather its vision is that of disconnection and “newness.” However, we do learn later that the writer is modeling the new community according his previous cultural assumptions, to which we will return in Ephesians 4. The remainder of the verses in this unit develop equal policies of inclusion, peace (2:17), access to the Father (2:18), and citizenship (2:19), as the ethnic others are “no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens (sumpolitēs) with the saints and also members of the household of God.” This describes both new citizenship and community, as the “new humanity” are said to become God’s temple and his dwelling. The temple language offers embodied spirituality in its first-century context. The ancient world was rife with temples, shrines, and ritualized religious practice, but the idea of permanently embodying the divine is something different and may redefine ideas of sacred and profane in its original context.

Apostolic Legacy (3:1–21) Social identity formation in Ephesians relies heavily on two factors: building a positive ingroup identity that assumes similarity with, or adaptation of, Jewishness, and explaining

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the distinctiveness of the new identity from surrounding cultures. However, before the moral requirements of belonging are outlined in the second half of the letter, Ephesians pauses to highlight Paul’s insistence on communal identity in ch. 3. This provides a foundation of authority for the letter, articulating divine legitimacy and God’s plan unfolding in the letter. I read this as posthumous reputational entrepreneurship, which means adapting a life of a hero-like figure into communal thought in a way that boosts communal ideals and gives them legitimacy. Naturally, this section could be read as an autobiographical farewell discourse, assuming apostolic authorship of the letter. This, however, would not reduce its importance for social memory analysis. A prisoner, or an “ambassador in chains” (6:20), is an unusual title of honor, but we do not necessarily consider it problematic. We can put our faith in the goodness of someone we know, or buy into their positive reputation, despite their circumstances. This is exactly how Ephesians 3 operates, as it neutralizes any stigma or shame associated with Paul’s imprisonment by explaining the events as divinely ordained. Reputations, as social memories, are based on historical events, narratives, or memories of individuals and their commemoration, all of which explain their significance for the present (Schwartz, 9). Curiously, Ephesians omits any potential historical narrative or personal greeting connecting Paul and the Ephesians. There is nothing in Ephesians that approaches the Acts 19 narrative, nor is there name-dropping in the letter closing. Therefore, the importance of Paul’s reputation here relies almost entirely on commemoration and ideological statements. Connection with the divine is more important than relations with the audience, as selections from the author’s exhortation illustrate the fulfillment of the divine plan in Paul’s ministry: “The commission of God’s grace . . . the mystery . . . revelation . . . my understanding of the mystery of Christ. In former generations this mystery was not made known to humankind, as it has now been revealed. . . . Of this gospel I have become a servant according to . . . God’s grace that was given to me by the working of his power. I am the very least of all the saints . . . grace was given to me to bring to the Gentiles the news . . . and to make everyone see what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things; so that through the church the wisdom of God . . . might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places. In accordance with the eternal purpose that he has carried out in Christ Jesus our Lord . . . my sufferings for you; they are your glory” (3:2–12). The foregrounding of divine connection is significant. It anchors key concepts of the letter, such as ethnic inclusion (2:11–22) and the fulfillment of God’s eternal plans realized in the community (1:4–5, 9–10, 2:10), with Paul’s ministry. Significant divine authority or other compelling rationale were needed to justify the author’s claims given that the letter is articulating radical concepts like the divine Messiahship of Jesus (a minority view for Jews and a new deity for others), as well as inclusion of ethnic others in the Jewish story apart from Jewish practices of proselytism. Furthermore, the divine commissioning diverts attention from the incarceration stigma, transforming a difficult reputation to a glorious one: the author is God’s servant. As I have argued elsewhere at length (Shkul, 142–72), this puts Paul on a pedestal. He is the only human exemplar in the letter. The absence of other local leadership, apostles, or ministers known to them is a notable exception among Pauline letters. Furthermore, the “mystery” is sufficiently vague and generates interpretive space for applying the letter to local circumstances. It may well be that here we have some constitutive elements of independent Christianity (Shkul). The benediction in 3:14–21 magnifies the commissioning of Paul. He is the leader who embodies the divine mystery, as he bows before the cosmic Father “from whom every family 386

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in heaven and on earth takes its name” (3:15). The blessing reiterates the concerns of the first prayer in 1:15–23, which yearned for wisdom (1:17) and enlightenment (1:18). These roughly parallel inner strength, embodying Christ, and comprehension (3:16, 17, 18) that populate the second prayer. It is striking that while the undisputed Paulines illustrate the fierce opposition the apostle faced while shaping early Christian faith, Ephesians’ tone is more of praise to God for things already accomplished, not currently debated. The antagonistic outgroups of the undisputed Paulines are no longer a concern. This concludes the first half of the letter, where teaching about ethnic inclusion is sandwiched between two prayers. The first prayer operated on a cosmic level, yearning for a fuller realization of the magnitude of the beneficial regime (1:21). The second prayer brings forth a magnificent community where God is known and his power is at work as his glory is displayed “in the church and in Christ Jesus, to all generations, forever and ever.” The language of this prayer has provided inspiration to believers ever since, as Christ’s love “surpasses all knowledge” (3:19) and the scope of God’s power is indefinite (3:20).

Community Cohesion (4:1–16) Ephesians divides neatly into two halves that explain the “calling” and “conduct” of the community (Hoehner, vii). It first outlines key aspects of belief, and then moves into the institutionalized “body” of believers, addressing morality, families, and spirituality. This latter section is laden with imperatives and warnings. Study of social identity formation heightens how both halves belong together essentially, as belief and lived religion complement each other. The instruction for community cohesion begins with a discussion of diversity and unity in the community. The apostolic authority (4:1) is here used to legitimate the appeal to piety that follows: “lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (4:1–3). There should be no quarrels, but Christ-followers should practice virtuous spirituality, characterized by selflessness. By embracing positive values from the letter, the community can enhance harmony and togetherness. The language that promotes strong ingroup orientation would be important for any collectivity or social collaboration and its growth, but this is especially so for minority groups. Social bonds and shared worldviews would enhance shared identity and ingroup orientation, and such factors would increase its chances to survive any negative reactions from the outsiders. Ephesians refers to a number of unifying principles: confessing “one body and one Spirit, one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all” (4:4–6). Community-binding values are followed by discussion of diversity, expressed in different gifts and roles in the community. This includes mobilization of all community resources, as “each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift” (4:7). The importance of collaboration of all parts (leaders as well as laity) is further explained in the metaphor of a living organism. Particular leadership roles of “apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers” (4:11) are ordained by Christ, which bolsters their authority. It is important to note that there are no processes of appointing suitable leaders. Distinct from disputed Pastoral letters, Ephesians provides no checklist of essential characteristics required in leadership. The Pastorals, 387

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in comparison, outline personal qualities and criteria for candidates before ministry appointments (1 Tim 3:1–7, Titus 1:7–9). Ephesians simply endorses the leadership without detailed instructions for the future. Vague instructions are the norm for the second half of the letter. The guidance is not always detailed, nor does it necessarily prepare the community to handle complexities, such as if husbands, for example, are not Christ-like. This is a letter of encouragement rather than a community handbook or leadership manual. Given that salvation in Christ is secure (1:3–7, 13–14; 2:5–6, 8), and Ephesians imagines the church as God’s spiritual sanctuary (2:21–22), ministry roles are not geared toward ritual practice, but their goal is to “equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ” (4:12). This has a cognitive focus, as its goal is a communal unity of faith, knowledge, and maturity (4:13). Desired maturity is contrasted with immaturity explained by three images: (1) childhood, (2) items blown about in the wind, and (3) unsteadiness of those who are easily tricked by “deceitful scheming” (4:14). Christian steadfastness relates to articles of faith, as well as to the moral qualities of believers. What is interesting here is the fixedness of the discourse, which is typical of Pauline doctrine and teaching. Alternative views are dismissed as “people’s craftiness and deceitful scheming” (4:14). While outside of this letter debates about Pauline traditions continued to exist (note the evidence in the non-canonical or Patristic early Christian literature), Ephesians does not promote dialogue or philosophical contemplation. Instead, alternative views are denounced. This might seem to be a quite limited, narrowly defined position, but Ephesians’ vision for the community is not isolated, or “sectarian.” Evidence below will support this claim. However, neither how the community “works” nor what constitutes the gifts of grace (4:7) is explained. The section on the community would have been a natural place to provide a more detailed vision statement, but Ephesians shows no urgency about preaching, mission, or expectation of Christ’s return. There is no teaching on ministry roles or guidance for charismatic experience. Instead, the community should be reflective, reaching toward maturity in faith as all of its members “must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knitted together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body’s growth in building itself up in love” (4:15–16). The purpose of the letter is likely articulated here, as the writer calls the community to know firmly the value of their faith. The author strengthens their sense of belonging though the metaphor of a body, which provides a powerful image to stimulate bonds of affection and collaboration. The body metaphor provides excellent language for collaboration and co-dependency, stressing the body’s growth. The emphasis is not on numerical growth, but on cohesion and togetherness. As is typical of the letter, any echoes of discord are silenced or unmentioned (cf. 1 Cor 12:12–27). Ephesians promotes, once again, cohesion, focusing entirely on the positive language. The outcome is positive and community building, though practical solutions for conflict management await the next section, where the letter explains the importance of a respectable life.

Ethnic Otherness, Ingroup Ethics, and Outgroup Deviance (4:17–5:21) Ephesians turns to believers’ lifestyle with sudden force, using apostolic authority to enforce practical ethics. The rhetoric changes radically as new literary and communicative resources 388

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are applied to formulate Ephesians’ halakah: the writer demands that those from other nations be resocialized. With urgency, the author exhorts the community to live a life worthy of their calling—and stop living like “gentiles” (4:17) as most English translations put it. This could be translated, for example, do not live like “outsiders.” This would be closer to the meaning of 2:1–10, which views sin and transgressions as a universal problem, affecting “them” and “us” alike, regardless of ethnicity. However, when the author refers to “nations” it betrays a category-based bias toward other ethnicities. When Ephesians says that non-Israelites live in futility and ignorance, this suggests ethnic bias and stereotypical association of outgroups with deviance. Prejudice is deeply rooted bias, both positive and negative, which all humans possess to some extent. However, what is important for social identity formation here is that positive values are preserved for the ingroup. Furthermore, it is not the Jewish, but the surrounding “gentile world” that becomes the shorthand for outgroup prejudice. Various lifestyle issues are then listed as examples of deviance, to warn the believers. This is not necessarily because the writer actually “hated” other ethnicities, but because his former ingroup characteristics still informed social judgments and his rhetorical appeals. He imagined Israel as an enlightened community with positive values, and other ethnicities as lacking both reason and virtue. Consequently, Ephesians desires a lifestyle akin to Israel’s separation from the nations, as the language of deviance permeates an otherwise positive world of thought in the letter. The ethnic other (the ethnē) are the only deviant group discussed in the letter. Life outside of Christ and beyond the ingroup boundaries is characterized by negative values, as if moral reasoning did not exist outside the Jewish world. Unwanted lifestyles are then equated with the believers’ past: “you were taught to put away your former way of life, your old self, corrupt and deluded by its lusts, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to clothe yourselves with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (4:22–24). The tendency to enhance current identity by belittling previous identity is used in ancient and contemporary sources to justify group behaviors. The author seems to insist that “gentile identity” must be left behind, as one is now representative of “new humanity” (2:15), and that new life must be expressed by imitating God, just as a child learns from their parent (5:1). The lifestyle comparison extends from 4:17 to 5:20, juxtaposing deviant lifestyles with ingroup prototypes in order to encourage positive ingroup building behaviors. Significantly, deviance is not in fact about ethnicity, or related “other religions,” or debates about resurrection, parousia, or ritual practice. Instead, deviance is entailed by deeds that would threaten the goals of harmony and social cohesion for the ingroup. For example, stealing, evil talk, bitterness, wrath, anger, malice, fornication, impurity, greed, obscene, silly, or vulgar talk would be a threat to a believers’ possessions, honor, sexual purity, or identity, and therefore such things are condemned (4:28–5:3). Anything that threatens ingroup solidarity is deviant, while virtues that enhance a communal sense of belonging are encouraged. Renewal of minds, imitation of God’s virtues, righteousness, holiness, truth, reconciliation, love, and thanksgiving would build ingroup harmony and foster spiritual reflection. Therefore, these virtues are endorsed (4:23–5:4). Although othering “gentile lifestyle” may seem stereotypical to us, this material may not have been received negatively. It may have contributed to resocialization if the ethnic others sought for a more positive identity and were willing to strengthen their ties to the Jewish movement or demonstrate their commitment to new identity. 389

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The identity formation reaches intensive levels when the disobedient are threatened with the wrath of God: fornicators and suchlike would have no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God. Their realm is darkness (5:5–7), which is contrasted with light—the righteous realm of virtue (5:8–10). It may well be that the writer maintains a level of suspicion toward ethnic others in the community of faith; they are not outsiders, but perhaps a bit like strangers, not fully known, not fully trusted.

Social Stability through Hierarchies of Accountability (5:22–6:9) Another very interesting feature of Ephesians’ identity formation is the inclusion of a household code. These codes are found in the disputed letters of the NT (Col 3:18–4:1; 1 Pet 2:18–3:7; 1 Tim 2:8–15). They promote social stability, discourage asceticism, and seem to indicate a gradual development of later, more multicultural communities who are apparently forging their own identities and values. The key features of this section for identity formation are the Christological rationale and divine imperatives granted for gendered and hierarchical relations within the household. The setting of the section is undeniably hierarchical. The subordinate member of each pairing— women (5:22–24), children (6:1–3), and slaves (6:5–8)—are addressed first in each section. The socially dominant members of each pairing—husbands (5:23–33), fathers (6:4), and slave owners (6:9)—are told to act reasonably. Ephesians maintains social conventions, but reminds everyone that each social group is responsible for moral life and all are under divine lordship. Lord/Christ is positioned at the top of each hierarchy, granting rewards or judgments based on godliness and compliance regardless of social position or gender. In other words, although there is not necessarily anything new in these instructions, by positioning the Lord on top of the order the author relativizes the authority of the kurios—the earthly master, who holds social power. However, this relativization happens only on a literary level. Practically speaking, the instruction here endorses male authority. The combination of hierarchy, on one hand, and religious motivations along with the divine overlord, on the other hand, means that the text remains indefinitely useful for both liberating and oppressive interpretations. What is certain is that the writer does not promote overturning any of these hierarchies. The reception history of the text demonstrates that it has been used to both promote equality and quench it, stressing beneficial functions of seemingly unequal positions. Consequently, many commentators like the idea that the responsibility of each person before God ensured that the instructions made life a little more tolerable in the ancient world. Religious motivations provided safeguards, ensuring believers could behave reasonably to each other as members of the body of Christ (5:25–30). Yet such interpretations often turn a blind eye to the exploitation the Scripture allows. Hoehner, for example, explains that the believers were able to live “blameless lives in close and continual contact with their family or employment relationships” (Hoehner, 729). Employment is hardly the correct idea. The smoothing over of exploitation is problematic, as it falsifies the facts and misrepresents the situation. The text is definitely heteronormative, pro-marriage, pro-natal, economically discriminating, against human rights, and in breach of civil liberties. The religious

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reworking of the household codes ensuring harmony in the community is problematic today, as it may lock people in oppressed positions, or intimidate believers from seeking to improve their situation in oppressive situations or exploitative relationships, as feminist scholarship on the passage has well established.

Battle of the Minds (6:10–17) The ingroup has been provided ideas for virtuous life, cohesive community, and respectful households. These are the most practical instructions of the letter. The final section of the letter intensifies the rhetoric, taking its recipients onto a battlefield. The unexpected war metaphor reminds the recipients of the cosmic battle of good and evil, which they cannot escape. The believers themselves are responsible for putting on their equipment, and taking their stand from now on. This striking situation is quite a responsibility for the recipients, as the battle is not led by any Divine Warrior or by Christ who is superior to all spiritual powers by the virtue of his resurrection (1:20–22). Ephesians makes the battle very personal. Each believer can become a Divine Warrior. The battle also does not require particular apocalyptic circumstances. It is not a prophecy, but rather a metaphor for ongoing battle of demons and deities, an arena in which the faithful participate because of their divine spirit. The battle imagery encourages the believers to reinterpret their life, imagining themselves in armed combat as foot soldiers facing an enemy of catastrophic proportions. They strive against “the wiles of the devil . . . not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (6:11–12). A cosmic and spiritual battle tests their faithfulness. Perhaps the most interesting feature of this language is that the enemies of the community, ultimately, are not the present political or military powers or rival religious groups. When Ephesians was written there were Jewish philosophies that denounced their surrounding world and its corrupt religious or political regimes. This was the tactic of the Essenes of Roman Judea, who isolated themselves physically and socially. What is important for Ephesians is explained in the metaphors of the armor and equipment, which will enable to believers to withstand their enemies. The essential qualities consist of the virtues of truth, righteousness, readiness to proclaim the gospel, faith, salvation, spirit, and the word of God. These have already contributed to the formation of ingroup identity, and thus we find that the writer is using a new literary image to reinforce previous values. The illustration of a cosmic war has proven fascinating though, and it continues to be one of the best-known extracts of this letter, if not also for the whole of early Christian imagination.

Letter Closure (6:21–24) The letter ends with prayer requests and benediction, stressing the ongoing importance of explaining the mystery, referred to in ch. 3. In the absence of collaborators and references to church leaders, the focus is again entirely on Paul, his role, and Tychicus. The latter is authorized

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to provide further information and instructions. Writing in such generic terms could have been a consequence of the late date or it could have been a deliberate strategy to allow the letter to be relevant in wider circulation. The final remarks are complimentary, sealing the identity formation with ideas of collaboration and faithful proclamation of the mystery.

References Hoehner, Harold. Ephesians: An Exegetical Commentary. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2002. Schwartz, Barry. Abraham Lincoln and the Forge of National Memory. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000. Shkul, Minna. Reading Ephesians: Exploring Social Entrepreneurship in the Text. LNTS 408. London: Bloomsbury, 2009.

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Chapter  12

Philippians Sergio Rosell Nebreda

Introduction Literary Integrity Paul wrote letters in response to particular communal crises (stasis), and used this as a strategy to confront these crises, teaching his communities and encouraging them in the faith. Philippians is one of his most personal writings, leading some to interpret it as a “letter of friendship,” though some other hortatory and rhetorical elements in it preclude such a narrow understanding. The integrity of the letter has been challenged and some suspect to be a collation of several different ones. Despite arguments pointing to possible breaks (cf. 3:1, 4:8), and Polycarp’s affirmation that Paul wrote “letters” (epistolas) to the Philippians (Ep. 3.2), most today affirm the integrity of the letter. The seemingly concluding remark in 3:1 (“finally . . .”) and the “delayed thank you note” (4:10–20) can both be fairly explained from the perspective of epistolary style. Thus, it is better to read it as a single rhetorical unit. There are also some questions about the provenance of the so-called “Christ-hymn” (2:6–11), but even if pre-Pauline, it marvelously fits within the flow of the letter and functions as its centerpiece.

Audience Little is known about the original audience that received the letter. Philippi, situated on the east of Macedonia and about 16 km inland from the port of Neapolis, had become a Roman colony in 167 BCE, quickly adopting Roman ways, acquiring the ius italicus. Settled with veterans, the city ran as a “petit Rome.” Some information can be inferred about the composition of the Christ-following community based on prosopographic description: few belonged to the elite and the bulk of members were daily workers, some slaves, Greeks, and even Thracians. This could account for the fact that, unusually for Paul, there are no direct quotations from the OT in the letter (LXX; albeit some echoes are easily discernible), which presupposes a thoroughly pagan audience who, nevertheless, would have been familiarized with Jewish ways (Zoccali, 81–83).

Date and Provenance The date of composition and provenance depend in large measure on Paul’s imprisonment. Though several locations have been proposed (Rome, Ephesus, Caesarea, etc.); Ephesus, due

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to its geographical proximity, seems the likely place of writing, enhancing the apostle to travel between cities. This theory has been challenged, since the mention of the Praetorium (1:13) and the “household of Caesar” (4:15) square better with Rome. Nevertheless, an Ephesian origin implies a date around the mid-50s, fitting well with Paul’s theology (cf. 1–2 Corinthians and Romans, closely linked in ideology with Philippians). Despite Paul’s perilous situation in jail, since his trial could result in death (1:20), the apostle is concerned with several situations—both inside and outside—that threaten to undermine the faith and cohesion of the community. These different outgroups of adversaries, Jewish and pagan, function as antithetical models. These deny with their actions the Christ identity Paul is trying to assert in the group. The letter is also an opportunity to thank this Macedonian community which so faithfully supported Paul’s mission (4:10, 15; cf. Acts 18:5).

Theological Themes Apart from its “hymn,” Philippians has been theologically considered a less theologically dense letter than Romans or Galatians. However, a closer look at it reveals a depth and richness of argumentation on Christ identity that is second to none. One of its core concerns specifically relates to the outworking of a Christ-orientation amid an honor-based society. A cursory reading of the letter through SIT lenses helps to observe Paul’s rich nuances as he proclaims a kyrios (Lord) who has manifested in slave form, breaking with the present symbolic universe and opening a new way of assessing their context.

Social Identity Approach As the core of his message the apostle encourages this small community of Christ-followers amid an honor-driven society, where power, status, and privilege are the norm, and presents them with an alternative way of living in the city. Paul, by way of comparison, contrast, categorization, and stereotyping of other groups (both close and outside the community), brings to the fore the example of Jesus the Anointed as He who can tear down the mighty social structures that pervade GrecoRoman life. This is not accomplished by way of violent revolution, rather transcending the symbolic (but with quite real implications for daily life) present order by what it is known as social creativity. Thus, some of these abhorred elements by most of society (humility, service, universal solidarity) are now placed as central and virtue-like traits for the Philippians, as the new way to live from now.

Commentary Introduction (1:1–11) Address and Salutation (1:1–2) Paul starts the usual way, mentioning author, recipients, and greetings. He introduces himself and Timothy as “slaves” of Jesus the Anointed, but surprisingly does not include the title “apostle” 394

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(cf. Rom 1:1; Titus 1:1). Presenting themselves as slaves to a thoroughly Romanized society was contrary to the expected honorable way and points to Paul’s strategy of affirming a Christ-based identity on the Philippians. However, there is also a positive understanding of doulos, “slave,” found in the LXX (Neh 10:29; Josh 24:29; Ps 88:21), as title of honor: servant of the Lord. Perhaps it should be understood as a total disposition to their master Jesus (Bruce, 26), but this possibility does not fully consider how the Philippian audience would have understood it. Paul identifies thus with the lowest of society. Next, Paul greets the “bishops” and “deacons,” important offices, but these are mentioned later, after the “saints” (a common reference to believers). This order seems to subvert traditional expectations where honorific persons were usually mentioned first (Hellerman, Exegetical, 10–11).

Thanksgiving and Prayer (1:3–11) Paul uses a traditional literary formula, praising the community (1:3–4). He is profoundly grateful for they have been actively partaking of his ministry from the beginning. Now that word has arrived about his imprisonment, he thanks them for being at his side. Roman imprisonment could be harsh and lead to break in relationships, since incarceration implied culpability (Wansink, 138). The apostle rejoices in that they are still alongside, sharing in this “grace” or “gift,” which includes both suffering and the confirmation of the gospel. Paul affirms they are part of the grand plan of God in which they work together. The recurrent use of “you,” “your,” and “me” and “my” gives away the strategy of the apostle: forming a solid group identity based on a common perspective amid difficulties, which SIT/SCT confirms: prototypical group members tend to show greater loyalty under significant threat while those in the margins may demonstrate a more unpredictable response.

Paul’s Situation and the Progress of the Gospel (1:12–26) (1:12–18a) Paul’s Imprisonment: Suffering as Token of Christ Identity Verse 12 presents the apostle’s situation in a positive light. Rather than gloomy and self-victimizing, his imprisonment has become a divine tool for the spreading of the good news. Despite dire straits, word has gone out even to the imperial guard (praetorium) that he is jailed for Christ, not as a common criminal, as some could have concluded. Although the identity of this “majority of brothers and sisters” (lit. “brothers,” used as a collective familial address; cf. 4:1–2) is not revealed, they are now emboldened by such a turn of events. Perhaps these had felt threatened to undergo a similar fate if they persisted in giving testimony to the gospel, but the trial has solidified the group’s main ministerial task. However, Paul is aware that others are proclaiming the good news with inklings to affront him (1:15). He does not accuse them of false doctrine, but of an incorrect attitude. Despite their wrong motivation, the apostle rejoices in that Christ is still proclaimed, his highest concern. Paul uses here several terms “envy and rivalry” and “strife,” (1:17), which in secular Greek referred to that which endangers the common good. Perhaps these thought Paul’s affliction was deserved because he was not speaking a message conformed to their expectations and sought to inflict shame or pain by proclaiming the gospel in freedom while he lacked such a comfort. However, the identity of these preachers is unknown, but they should not be equated with those in ch. 3. Once again, the apostle turns a threat into a “blessing” that produces joy (1:18). Paul’s chains, somehow, shaped early Christianity (Wansink, 71), but imprisonment should not be allegorized: 395

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The Roman legal system defiantly discriminated between persons depending on status, and cases were reported about those who died in prison while awaiting trial. Paul makes a conscious effort toward group cohesion, and he perceives this suffering as part of his “necessary” and faithful service on behalf of his Lord and church. Despite the calm affirmation of 1:18, it looks as if Paul is being offended by these intergroup tensions, since the gospel he proclaims aims at uniting the faithful, not dividing them. Even though the progress of the gospel is enhanced, only purity of motivation construes worthy ingroup cohesion. (1:18b–26) Progress of the Gospel despite Opposition Paul now turns to a projection in the future. He parallels his situation to that of wise Job (cf. LXX Job 13:16; “this will turn out to for my salvation/deliverance”; the only time this verb is used by Paul). The tension in his words reveals a powerful inner struggle. His imprisonment, at one point, seemed unsurmountable and brought him close to losing hope (1:20), but some changes of events (brought about by their prayers and the help of the Spirit) are working toward his impeding freedom, so that he can boldly affirm that he will “remain in the flesh” (1:21). Verse 20 reveals part of this tension: He hopes that “he will not be put to shame,” confirming the weight of culpability of Roman imprisonment. Paul focuses on faithfulness to the gospel, transcending a superficial reading of the situation (his chains are for Christ) in which, as always, Christ will be exalted. This shame, ultimately, does not relate to public opinion, but to his standing before God who will surely vindicate him. The expression “for me to die is gain” (1:21) has puzzled many. Some interpreters were sympathetic with Paul’s desire to die as an escape from the harshness of his situation, while others accused him of wanting to commit suicide! But a much clearer picture emerges as the apostle himself counterweights his own personal desire with that of the group’s interest, giving priority to the latter. Paul joins the long list of those who through their example (Christ (2:5-11); Timothy (2:19-20); Epaphroditus (2:25-30)) are laying down selfish interest and prioritizing communal concern. If he had to choose, he’d rather be with Christ, but remaining is better because he is still necessary among the Philippians (1:24). Is this rhetorical or was the apostle indeed close to death? Inevitably the thought of dying while in jail comes to mind, but a more general description is in view. After all, even Epaphroditus risked his life as he sought to serve the community (2:30). For the apostle this concept relates to radical discipleship, where one’s own life is placed on the altar on behalf of the group’s interest, after the example of Jesus Christ (2:6–11). Verses 25–26 abound in the same idea. Paul’s remaining yet with them is a token of their common participation in the ministry and the growth of the Philippian believers (cf. 1:6). What was a few lines earlier an uncertain event (1:20) has now turned into bold confidence (1:25): he will remain, so he can be assured about their progress in the common faith.

Living Worthily after the Example of Christ (1:27–2:18) (1:27–30) Christ-Living in the City in the Face of Opposition The tone shifts now toward the Philippians. They are to live worthily as “citizens” (politeuesthai) according to the good news. Paul uses a rare verb related to “life in the city” (though more usual ones were available: “walk,” “live”), stressing the local situation of the Roman colony where perhaps most of them did not enjoy citizen status. The city (polis) had deep roots in the Greco-Roman world. Ancient philosophers had long discoursed about the qualities of the city, the prerogatives of the citizens, and even found 396

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a place for others like slaves, who were marginalized from her “blessings,” existing solely for the privilege of the free. Each person found thus his/her place in the matrix of the city. Paul redefines such a participation in the commonwealth: they are to “behave” according to the standards of the gospel, and this implies that they are to live such a lifestyle amid the conflict they experience in the public arena (Focant, 115). First, in v. 27, they are to be “standing in one spirit,” “striving in one mind” (lit. “competing/ struggling together”) for the faith. Both admonitions present clear athletic connections and also echo philosophical ideals about the practical life of city dwellers. The concern is not only to stress a common venture, but to boldly strive forward in presenting a joint case, as strugglers in the Roman arena. Suffering for a deemed worthy cause strengthens intragroup cohesion. Second, in v. 28, the exhortation heightens: “in no way intimidated by your opponents.” This verb, unique to the NT (pturō), harkens back to horses frightened before the battle and which recoiled. The identity of such opponents is, again, unknown, but several features distinguish them from the preachers-for-the-wrong-reasons of 1:15–17. Paul never calls them “brethren,” and these are under pending danger of “destruction” (apōleias). Their fate is sealed as these opponents see the Christ-followers live according to gospel values which are placed above that of the polis (cf. 3:20–21). They are clearly not part of the ingroup and are categorized just as “opponents.” The Philippians’ behavior is somehow an admonition toward this outgroup (or outgroups) and the fate which awaits them. If life in the city was deemed as the highest identity marker and call for free citizens, Paul concludes that outside Christ there is nothing certain but “destruction,” for no “salvation” is found outside the Lord. How this could be readily evident (endeiksis) to the adversaries is impossible to assess: perhaps their opposing attitude was deemed as the natural negative outcome. The experience of suffering for the cause of the gospel is a privilege; even more, it is a “gift”— something granted together with that of believing in Christ. Once again, we observe the apostle favoring experiences and states of mind which were rejected by most of society. Paul never misses the opportunity to strengthen communal ties with the Philippian believers. Their struggle is similar to Paul’s (“same” agon, both past and present; 1:30), which was partly featured in 1:12–26. Identifying these sufferings in this manner the apostle aims at creating group solidarity based on the common experience of rejection for the sake of Christ (1:29). This, in fact, reinforces the group’s objective as one which is confirmed both by their faithfulness to the Lord and by the rejection suffered at the hands of opponents, a sure token of “God’s activity” in their midst (1:28). Paul challenges the Philippians’ theology and “asks them to understand their afflictions not merely as inevitable but as a manifestation of God’s gracious dealings with them” (Silva, 83). (2:1–4) Unity and Group Solidarity Paul now moves to internal matters. If 1:27–30 referred to outside opposition, the apostle now makes an appeal to group unity introduced by a series of “if ” clauses, a regular part of rhetorical entreaty, which should not be read as conditional, but inclusive and indefinite (Bockmuehl, 104–5). Paul reveals a rare emotional force as he makes a plea for unity delving on the theme of “in one spirit, with one soul” introduced earlier (1:27). This section follows a poetic structure with repeated parallelism. This passage is about friendship and concord among friends, a classic theme in ancient political treatises. Paul describes the character of this common life with four “if ” clauses and concludes: “make my joy complete” (2:1). These 397

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traits are “encouragement/comfort,” “incentive of love,” “fellowship/participation in the spirit,” and “tender mercy and compassion.” D. Bonhoeffer, the German pastor and theologian who suffered martyrdom under the Nazis, explains this well in Life Together (21): “Christianity means community through Jesus Christ and in Jesus Christ. No Christian community is more or less than this. . . . We belong to one another only through and in Jesus Christ. What does this mean? It means, first, that a Christian needs others because of Jesus Christ. It means, second, that a Christian comes to others only through Jesus Christ. It means, third, that in Jesus Christ we have been chosen from eternity, accepted in time and united for eternity.” Verse 2 further expounds this concept and introduces the verb “think/regard/set your mind” (phronein) with a strong volitional connotation that will reappear later (cf. 2:5). Spiritual oneness for Paul relates to being like-minded—that is, having the same orientation of life, reinforcing group identity. For the apostle the message of the gospel includes both the intellectual (creedal) and the practical spheres (praxis): they are to share in this “sameness” which was in Christ (2:6–11). The well-being of the community is here in view rather than the mere advancement of the individual. To carry this out they need to put aside all forms of “self-seeking” (already in 1:17; eritheias) and “vainglory/ambition” (lit. “empty-glory,” cf. 2:7), and be “humble” or “lowly,” an oxymoron in Roman society, since it carried a derogatory sense of servility. Paul is not speaking about a casual “humble” attitude among them, but a total lifestyle of “humbleness” (Martin, 89). How could such a “lowly” attitude in society be so readily accepted as one of the group’s identity markers is not answered right away. Verse 4 captures the spirit of the exhortation and sets the stage for what is considered the climax of Paul’s argument, the so-called “hymn to Christ” (2:6–11). (2:5–11) Christ the Exemplar: Aspiring Social Identity Once again, the apostle uses the verb phronein, expressing a conscious decision to “set (the) mind onto something,” or even to “orient your life among you” (plural). The Philippians’ life orientation must be that which is found in Jesus the Anointed. Some commentators think this “hymn” originated in the worship of Aramean-speaking communities, which Paul adapted for his own purposes. Others take it as an ad hoc Pauline poem praising Jesus. Despite divergent and often contradictory statements, whether penned by Paul or adapted, the fact is that the way in which it fits into the letter is “quite Pauline,” though it is not reasonable to expect every single aspect of Paul’s theology fully developed in these few verses. Is this a “hymn” proper or “exalted prose”? If treating it as a hymn was a sententia recepta of scholarship, specialists today are more nuanced in their opinions. It does indeed possess a poetic rhythm, but it resembles an eulogy rather than a hymn, what in rhetoric was known as an encomium, that is, a tribute expressed in narrative form which functions as an example (paradeigma; cf. Focant, 151–52). Though this passage has been studied from many angles, the particular interpretation presented here assumes that Paul “has leveraged Christology—conceived in terms of status and prestige— in the service of ecclesiology” (Hellerman, Reconstructing, 105). Historically the text has been used to speak about ontological Christology (Jesus’s essence, double nature, second Adam, etc.), but it is clear that Paul used this example as more than demonstration of Jesus’s divinity. He aims at group identity formation. The eulogy reflects an up-down-up movement narrative in three stages: Jesus’s pre-existence, abasement (life and passion), and exaltation (Rosell Nebreda, 299). 398

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Christ Jesus “being/existing in the form of God” expresses present reality. This verb, hyparchein, could be translated as “to appear” (etymologically it means sub rego, a combination of “under” and “governing, leading,” though most commentators translate it as “existing,” the meaning it took from the Middle Ages onward). This possibility helps to recapture the dramatic unfolding Paul presents his audience: when Jesus the Anointed “appeared” in our history, he did it already in the “form of God.” Jesus had never lost such a status (or “nature”), for it was always his. This understanding has implications for what follows. The second half of v. 6 presents the term harpagmos, unique in the New Testament, understood in a variety of ways. Some translate it as “gain” or “conquest/booty,” as something needing to be seized, concretely, “equality with God.” Understanding Jesus’s standing (in the form of God) as something already his when he “appeared” in the economy of salvation is confirmed when translated with an active sense. Jesus did not make use of being equal to God as “something to use for his own advantage.” Paul, indeed, has been speaking about this all along: he exhorted his audience to practice humility as a lifestyle. Here comes the sublime example that has the power to change their symbolic universe. The key issue is attitude—that orientation in life Paul was speaking about. The “taking advantage of ” does not have as object “being equal to God,” but begins from it. The Roman Caesar functions here as the anti-model: he is not born divine, but somehow managed to climb into the heights of this world of honor and is considered divine. Jesus emptied himself (kenoō), not of the divine nature, but in concrete ways: becoming like us, taking human form and sharing our same identity, and furthermore “taking the form of a slave” (2:7), being humble, and obedient to the point of death and “death on the cross.” Such an attitude contrasts with what the apostle had written earlier about not acting by “empty vain” or conceit (2:3). Why so? Jesus’s example answers it directly. However, centuries of Christian interpretation have masked much of the force of this dramatic turn of events. By the fourth century CE humility had become a Christian virtue, but the way Paul speaks here is indeed scandalous. It went against the core of Roman honor-based society. Humility, obedience, and servitude, were all traits of the “lowly,” the slaves, those who were not even considered as “persons.” True, there were many types of slaves, some of them wealthier and more powerful than some free citizens. But, can it be inferred that the Philippian audience would have had these slaves in mind? Paul is aiming at constructing a social identity based on values opposed to mainline society. He is reimagining this universe in light of Jesus, who functions as an exemplar (Fowl, 93) or prototype, capturing the “central tendency of the category and derives from multiple experiences with category members” (Esler, 172). There is no direct answer from the apostle to important questions: To whom was Jesus obedient? Does he mean that Jesus lived as a “slave” or is it just a metaphorical sense? These may not be answered completely, but the path has been laid: by his life and attitude Jesus manifested these traits as nobody else did. However, ideals and concepts, no matter how worthy, do not change lives and attitudes unless they are internalized and practiced by those who acquire them. How can these lowly traits be accepted as feasible and, what’s more important, as social identity markers in such an honor-seeking society? The answer is found in v. 9: “therefore God also . . . ” God, who has the last word in this matter, sees Jesus’s actions and super exalts him, granting him a name above all other names. God’s action ratifies that of Jesus, for, in a sense, this is the heart and will of God the Father! Paul has masterfully crafted this up-down-up movement. What looked like a cursus pudorum (or “race of ignominy”; Hellerman, Reconstructing, 129) has turned into an exaltation to the highest place. 399

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True honor is not found in acquiring privilege (the normal course of affairs for reputed Romans, that is, cursus honorum), but in serving others even to the point of giving one’s life for them (cf. Rom 5:8). Wengst (49) captured this well: “The trend within society goes against this. . . . during the Roman empire society was marked strongly by a concern for upward social mobility. That against such background Paul invites not isolated individuals but members of the community to behave in the opposite way to that prevalent in society makes this sphere ‘in Christ’ another society, an alternative society as a society which shows solidarity. But in that case ‘humility’ is not individual renunciation but the basic condition for a new society which really is all-inclusive.” Jesus’s super exaltation and name giving set him apart as “Lord” (2:11), the same name by which God-Yahweh (the Tetragram YHWH or Adonai) was translated in the Greek Old Testament (cf. LXX Isa 45; Rom 14:11), and which was commonly used in the liturgy of the early church (Acts 2:36; Rom 10:9; 2 Cor 4:5). There is no higher honor than being called Lord, a title also used for Caesar. However, the breath of Jesus’s lordship dwarfs that of the Roman potentate: “So that at his name all who dwell in the heavens, the earth, and under the earth, will bow down and confess Jesus as Lord” (2:10) depicts universal lordship. Caesar was proclaimed lord of the earth, but Jesus supersedes this because he is Lord over all spheres of existence. If such an abased and lowly attitude is reckoned by the God of the universe as the proper lifestyle, then service, humility, and seeking first the well-being of others are transformed into an alternative value system. That is, the Philippian congregation, unable as it seems to climb up in the social scale, looks for social change via social creativity. The group now looks for new dimensions for intergroup comparison and finds a crucial one: they belong to a superior kingdom defined so by God their father (2:15), and thus this redefines the value of the status quo (which remains unchanged), and releases a positive social identity which has now a narrative (the Christ eulogy) that serves to consolidate the social memory of the group. Roman society had hymns and narratives that provided citizens with a particular identity; the Christ-following community possesses now a grand narrative from where to draw inspiration and identity. (2:12–18) Christ-Living as Shinning Bright in Society Verse 12 signals a transition which invites to read this section as the practical application of the eulogy, loosely linked with the exhortation of 1:27–30 on which it expands. The apostle addresses the believers with an ingroup qualification: “My beloved” (agapētoi) and exhorts them to “obey” (hypakouein) him as they have done in the past, especially now that imprisonment impedes a visit. They are to “work on their salvation with fear and trembling.” What does it mean? Despite concerns that it could lead to a “salvation by works,” Paul may be simply encouraging the Philippians to confirm and develop the salvation entrusted to them, but which is a co-working with God (cf. 1:6). This has practical implications which were laid out earlier and are now expelled out so that a sharper distinction in value system between the ingroup and the outgroup is established. They are to conduct their lives without complaints and murmuring, shining as lights (“blameless and pure”) amid a “crooked and perverse generation” (2:15). The apostle has stereotyped society as that which is inevitably tainted with moral debauchery, drawing a stark contrast, thus strengthening intergroup boundaries. Categorization processes produce stereotypic perceptions and usually have direct reference to the self of the ingroup. Paul presents this alternative way of living, based on a new identification in Christ, which aims at re-directing society’s values toward a more humane dealing with those outside. How are they to “shine”? By living as good citizens, worthy of the gospel (1:27), but 400

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also introducing an ad intra component, since how they live as a community (ingroup) reflects in outward practices (2:1–4). They are made part of God’s ingroup (“children of God”) by virtue of their participation in Christ. Their holding fast in the common faith is a token of boasting for the apostle, linking their fate with his once more (2:16), in which the triad is at work: God, Paul, and the Philippians, reflects the co-working in this venture that serves to encourage the group under dire circumstances. Verses 17–18 seem to return to the situation announced in 1:12–26, but with a nuance, since Paul, following the example of Jesus, is ready to be poured out as a libation on behalf of his dear friends if necessary. Surely, this repetitive strategy aims at solidifying their common bond (“I for you, you for me”), for perhaps the apostle had heard news of their discouragement and sought to affirm them.

Worthy Examples: Timothy and Epaphroditus (2:19–30) Paul concerns now with preparations for a renewed fellowship when Timothy (cf. 1:1) is introduced for the second time. Paul is preparing the ground for his assistant’s impeding visit. In 2:20 Paul calls Timothy, whom the Philippian community deeply appreciates, “of equal soul,” a common description of “friends” in philosophical treatises. This use is similar to 2:2, where Paul exhorts the community to be “fellow souls,” clearly relating to the common topos where friends “think the same thing.” Timothy is another example of an individual who places group interest above selfish ones (2:21). Timothy and Paul’s visit (2:24) is announced to prepare the Philippian believers. Perhaps some time elapsed between the first part of the letter and this section, since the apostle now is certain about his future visit. Then, their fellow member, Epaphroditus, is introduced. He was sent by the community with the financial help for the apostle (cf. 4:18) and Paul considers it necessary now to send him back. He is described by Paul as my “brother,” “co-worker,” and “fellow-soldier,” agglutinating these positive labels as well as those pertaining to the Philippian community: your “sent-one/envoy” and “minister” (leitourgos). Somehow Epaphroditus becomes a living nexus between Paul and the community, manifesting the same traits of service and selfless commitment to others to the point of risking his life, in clear Christ-fashion. That Paul almost apologetically requests the Philippians to receive and honor Epaphroditus may hint to certain dissensions within the community. Peterlin (Philippians) imagines a community of house churches with different social and financial status, where some were not particularly enthusiastic about supporting the apostle, but the text does not provide any certain proof. Possibly it is just an expected social convention that demonstrates his good standing before Paul (Bockmuehl, 173).

Beware of Ingroup Behavior: Stereotyping Others around Us (3:1–4:1) (3:1–11) Paul’s Own Rendering of Christ Identity The expression to loipon in 3:1 (“finally”) led some to speculate about the existence of several letters, since it seemed to introduce a concluding statement yet in the middle of the letter. However, this could just be read as a regular transition marker (see above, “Literary Integrity”). The apostle is aware of his reiteration as he writes the Philippian believers, but considers it important, mixing a note of joy (3:1) with a sharp invective against opponents (3:2), joining both sides as he has already done in 1:27–30, though the sudden change of tone is certainly disconcerting. The Philippian Christ-followers are to “be aware” or 401

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“avoid” (imperative of blepein) “the dogs,” “bad workers,” and “mutilators,” a rather harsh and strong social categorization (3:2). Who are these? Several options have been proposed (most related to Judaizing efforts to convert gentile Christ-followers), but Paul seems interested in leaving their identity anonymous, since the imperative carries both a call for discernment and a warning. Not naming the opponents invites the Philippians to draw their own conclusions, considering the godly examples earlier expounded and including perhaps any individual or group that behaves contrastingly to them. The power of categorization is thus enhanced because it is the Philippians now who must put faces to these! What Paul gives is more than mere theological description; it contains a sense of belonging as well as the capacity of the disposed group to categorize what seems to represent the stronger group. There are those who are good and faithful emissaries (Timothy, Epaphroditus) and those who are evil, deceitful. Through Paul’s invective, the “inferior” group (the Christ-following Philippians) is able to redefine the boundaries, via harsh expressions, that are indeed inversions of Jewish boasting. Then Paul goes on to redefine the terms: we are the “true” circumcision, who act according to the will of God, walk after the example of Jesus the Anointed, and “do not trust in the flesh” (sarx, 3:3). This inner reality (the true circumcision, 3:3; the new commonwealth, 3:21) redefines external rituals that have lost the power for human transformation and have indeed become “mutilation” (katatomē, 3:2), a terminology used elsewhere (LXX Lev 21:5; 1 Kgs 18:28) for the practice of inflicting self-harm in a way that displeases God. Early Christ-followers replaced some “old” rituals with new values. At least in this letter, it appears that suffering (that is, sacrificial love for others) becomes a new identity marker, the outward and concrete practice of the transformation that baptism receives in Paul’s letters (cf. Rom 6; 1 Cor 1:10–17; 10:2; 12:13; Gal 3:26–29). The apostle now uses his own background (rooted in Judaism) as an example against these opponents. Paul’s rhetorical purpose is to contrast himself with those who have come to the community to present a message based on confidence in the “flesh,” that is, by way of honor/ standing (3:4). This group has a strong Judaizing component, and it was within this context of resting on human achievement that Paul became a persecutor of the church and its message (3:6). Paul describes his pedigree as one of utmost importance to him then, in similar fashion as the Philippians, who belonged to the tribus Voltinia, and were surely aware of the honorable system of tribes and classes within Roman society (Bockmuehl, 196). Now, however, he is willing to suffer whatever trials for the exact opposite. What he earlier categorized as worthy of pity (and proper religious hate, that is, the way of Christ) has come to be the most precious treasure. Compared with this newfound element, everything else is mere “dross” (skubala, “filth,” 3:8). The goal of it all is Christ, which carries practical implications for daily life: groups and individuals no longer need to live under a system of retribution, earning honor, standing, and personal righteousness, in order to please others or even God. It is adscription to Christ (“faith in”) that subverts the present order and frees them to rest in the righteousness of God, not trusting on personal or communal merits, rather, submitting to the universal lordship of God in Christ. Once again, the example of Jesus in 2:6–11 emerges, shinning amid such a somber honor-driven society. Paul is not here denying the value of the Jewish law, but stresses that right standing comes only through faith in Christ and no longer requires full Torah submission (cf. Zoccali, 22–29).

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Paul expresses a profound desire to identify further with Christ even in his sufferings! Suffering, thus, is once more an identity marker that separates the apostle from the false brethren. It is a sensible message, for, who wants to suffer following him who is supposed to be Lord of all (2:11)? As Malina and Neyrey (51–52) point out: “A cursory reading of Philippians quickly reveals that Paul knows of rival preachers of Christ Jesus who make Paul the target of their opposition (1:15–18). He sets out to persuade the Philippians not to engage in honor claims and challenges (2:1–4).” Suffering is not here elevated merely because it builds on the example of Jesus Christ; it also serves the apostle to deal with his peculiar situation of lack of honor and of dire vulnerability. This redefinition of terms allows him to help the Philippian group gain a sense of positive identity even through “less than meritorious” ways. Suffering is no longer the fate of the marginalized, but imitatio Christi. Lastly, Paul does not keep his “usual order” describing the crucifixion and then the exaltation in vv. 10–11; rather, he links the resurrection with the passion and death of Jesus as experiences interwoven in the liturgy and life of the church. In the same way that Jesus took the “form” of a slave, Paul wants them to be conformed (summorphizein; also in 3:21) to Christ’s death, having in mind the way of obedience (2:7–8) that led Jesus to his destiny, and thus, participating with him (Bockmuehl, 216). (3:12–4:1) True and False Models: Categorizing Groups Verse 12 ties in with what the apostle declared earlier about the resurrection. The expression “if only” (2:11) is not so much a sign of hesitation on the part of Paul as an affirmation that there is a race ahead, stressing the element of contingency observed in 2:12–13. On the other hand, Paul’s basic view of salvation is that “one is not eternally secure until one is securely in eternity” (Witherington, 94), and may be confronting those Judaizers who offer a false sense of security based on clinging to their own efforts. In this race the goal is the “prize of the above call of God in Christ Jesus” (3:14), harkening back to the exhortation to “orientate” (phronein) their lives according to the examples earlier presented that spring from that of Jesus Christ. This is a call from “above” (anō), which some translations render “heavenly.” Perhaps it is better to understand the expression as a call which originates in God, the One who rewards, as it happened with Jesus, conferring on him a name above all names. The Philippians, familiar with athletic competitions at the Roman arena, are confronted with an alternative race rewarding those who are “perfect” (teleioi, or “mature”) like them. The apostle trusts that those who think differently about these matters will conform to the “common view” (3:15). Paul is concerned with group cohesion, not only in praxis, but also in the way of thinking and reflecting about their lifestyle. Paul coins in v. 17 a compound noun, “join in imitating me” (summimētēs), appealing to his example and that of others (Timothy and Epaphroditus, understood in the “you have in us”). The call to follow the example of Paul may strike modern readers as arrogant, but the call to imitation is crucial in Paul’s moral discourse, common in the rhetoric of persuasion, and is fully integrated in every major section of the letter. It is nuclear because Paul’s message wants to be incarnated. Paul expresses something SIT has observed concerning leadership: “leaders and followers must define themselves in terms of a shared social identity so that the activities of each are seen as collective rather than personal in nature” (Esler, 37). To be effective, leaders must represent the interest of the collective, something to which Paul refers repeatedly (1:6–7, 12, 18, 24; 2:16; 3:20–21).

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These living examples are contrasted with the “enemies of the cross” (3:18–19). The element of circumcision (as the symbol of trusting in the “flesh,” be that merit, honor, or self-righteousness, etc.) could well fit with “dogs” (3:2) and with “enemies of the cross” (3:18). Their trust in the religious ritual (circumcision, 3:2–3) relates to “their god is their belly” (koilia, 3:19; a term also used for the sexual organ, cf. Malina and Pilch, 120). Those who trust in such ephemeral elements are destined for “destruction” (cf. 1:28). This is the destiny of those who trust in human achievement. Both the Philippians and Paul expect a different outcome—their “commonwealth/ citizenship” (politeuma) is in heaven (3:20–21). Castelli (96–97) notes the following: “The impact of this rhetoric is powerful. Christian identity is linked, on the one hand, with the humility displayed by Christ on the cross and, on the other hand, with the imitation of Paul. There exists only one alternative to this identity, and that is to ‘live as enemies of the cross of Christ’ for whom ‘their end is destruction, their god is the belly, and their glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things.’ These two identities—the Christian and the non-Christian—are set up as polar opposites; practicing humility like that of the crucified Christ and imitating Paul promise a heavenly transformation while the rejection of these paths assures destruction. . . . The lines between the ‘insiders’ and the ‘outsiders’ have been constructed ineluctably.” If previous identities were constructed based on actions, common creedal confessions, and attitudes, Paul now goes a step further and consolidates with the term politeuma (“citizenship,” 3:20) the bits and pieces he has introduced earlier. This “politeuma of heaven” is perceived as a constitutive force that regulates the life and destiny of its citizens. Social identity is thus aimed at transforming values which are in consonance with the higher model, however skewedly mainline society understood it. It is not a commonwealth void of power: Its ruler is Lord over this threetier universe (2:10), able to bring salvation (1:28), transforming the “lowly” (tapeinōsis) into something glorious (3:21). But it also calls for the rejection of the honor-seeking system. “They are a heavenly commonwealth from which their ethic is determined. Lest they think this may refer to some ‘elevated,’ ‘other-worldly’ ethic, the apostle reminds them that it is to be lived here and now (1:27), following the example of Jesus Christ (2:6–11), who both saves and sets the right pattern before them” (Rosell Nebreda, 266). In this revealed truth they are to stand firm once again.

Personal Appeals to Two Women Leaders (4:2–3) The apostle turns his attention to two principal women, Euodia and Syntyche, urging them to concord, to “think the same in the Lord.” Nothing is known of the “feud” which leads Paul to single out these two, nor was Paul’s usual strategy to mediate between personal affairs, but their example is affecting the well-being of the community and a public wake-up call is in order. He adds a third party, “my faithful companion” (Syzygus), to mediate, for Paul acknowledges that these women have a strong influence in the community, playing a crucial part with him in the missionary effort in the colony (4:3). Ingroup cohesion is a priority for Paul, aware that their outside testimony hangs in the balance as internal affairs threaten unity.

Concluding Instructions (4:4–20) (4:4–9) Rejoicing and Right Living Paul introduces again the theme of joy and rejoicing in such a way that both suffering and joy form a tapestry serving as a backdrop for the letter. In a context

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where joy was deemed as an illusion, Paul was able to exhort this community to rejoice (4:4) even in the direst of situations. Joy, thus, becomes another identity mark for the Christ-following group. The reason for such a bold exhortation is clear: “the Lord is near” (4:5). And if the Lord is near there follow practical ways to display their daily life: Not worrying, but letting the sovereign know (by means of prayers) their daily needs and concerns. In return, the peace of God will overwhelm believers, as it is fitting in this heavenly commonwealth where the Lord is truly in control. This is a powerful image communicated to a group which feels powerless and sometimes at the mercy of opposing outgroups. There follows a list of attitudes/virtues, perhaps derived from stoicism, on which the Philippians are to concentrate: that which is true, noble, just, pure, lovely, admirable, morally excellent, and praiseworthy (4:8). These terms are not an abstract list of virtues or divine principles, rather, for Paul “God in Christ is the very definition of true virtue and true character” (Witherington, 115). This is what they have been observing from Paul’s and others’ positive examples. (4:10–20) Gratitude for Intergroup Solidarity The Philippian community had been supporting Paul’s mission financially since they first came into contact. Some commentators believe this “thank you note” to be the main reason for the letter and that, as such, it has been placed perhaps too late in it, confirming the composite nature of the letter (see above “Literary Integrity”). But it makes perfect sense within the flow of the letter here, and it had been anticipated in 1:3–5. Paul uses here some of the same keywords observed before, creating an overall inclusio: “rejoice,” “be concerned” (phronein), “be humbled” (tapeinousthai), “sharing” (synkoinōnein), etc., with a clear financial idiomatic slant. At the end of his letter, Paul addresses the believers with incredible candor and opens a window into his own personal life. He has learned to be content (autarkēs, “self/sufficient,” 4:11), regardless of the situation. This is expressed in seemingly Stoic fashion, but the apostle manifests a different source of strength: not his own (as Stoics would have it), but that of Christ himself (4:13). Paul is thankful for their support and admits his need (2:25), but unmistakably detaches himself from any subservience: his theology of “voluntary abasement” is radical and drives him to boast even in his financial freedom from the churches. This boasting (kauchēma) is his trademark and appears twice in Philippians (1:26 and 2:16) as he reflects on the progress of his service/mission toward the Philippian believers.

Final Greetings (4:21–23) The apostle concludes with greetings and a final blessing. Paul does not mention any individual by name, unlike his custom, perhaps trying to avoid jealousy among the members or any form of rivalry (Focant, 292). He refers to “all the saints” (4:21). Lastly, the mention of the sending greetings from the “family/household of Caesar” has puzzled many, as if some powerful friends of Caesar had been won to the cause. It is better to understand it in its more general sense, that is, as those who work for the imperial structure, including slaves, freed persons, and the like. It is Paul’s last reassurance that the gospel is penetrating the core of power, confirming thus what was said in the eulogy to Christ: every knee shall bow (2:11). In a sense, then, the progress of the mission reveals that a turn of events (and value system) is impending: Christ identity becomes a reality, even if one step at a time. 405

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References Bockmuehl, Markus. The Epistle to the Philippians. 4th ed. London: A & C Black, 1997. Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. Life Together. Translated by J. Doberstein. New York: Harper and Row, 1954. Bruce, Frederick Fyvie. Philippians. NIBC. Peabody: Hendrickson, 1989 [1983]. Castelli, Elizabeth A. Imitating Paul: A Discourse of Power. Louisville: John Knox/Westminster, 1991. Esler, Philip Francis. Conflict and Identity in Romans: The Social Setting of Paul’s Letter. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003. Focant, Camille. La carta a los filipenses. Salamanca: Sígueme, 2016. Fowl, Stephen E. Philippians. Grand Rapids/Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2005. Hellerman, Joseph H. Reconstructing Honor in Roman Philippi: Carmen Christi as Cursus Pudorum. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. Hellerman, Joseph H. Exegetical Guide to the Greek New Testament: Philippians. Nashville: Broadman and Holman, 2015. Malina, Bruce John, and Jerome H. Neyrey. Portraits of Paul: An Archaeology of Ancient Personality. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1996. Martin, Ralph P. Philippians. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1989. Peterlin, Davorin. The Philippians in the Light of Disunity in the Church. Leiden: Brill, 1995. Rosell Nebreda, Sergio. Christ Identity: A Social-Scientific Reading of Philippians 2:5–11. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2011. Silva, Moisés. Philippians. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005. Wansink, Craig S. Chained in Christ: The Experience and Rhetoric of Paul’s Imprisonments. Sheffield: Sheffield, 1996. Wengst, Klaus. Humility: Solidarity of the Humiliated. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1988. Witherington III, Ben. Friendship and Finances in Philippi: The Letter of Paul to the Philippians. Valley Forge: Trinity, 1994. Zoccalli, Christopher. Reading Philippians after Supersessionism: Jews, Gentiles, and Covenant Identity. NTAS. Eugene: Cascade Books, 2017.

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Chapter  13

Colossians A. Asano

Introduction Colossae The city of Colossae lies at the foot of Mt. Cadmus on the southern bank of a tributary of River Maeander, which reaches Ephesus approximately 200 km to the west. Laodicea (15 km W) and Hierapolis (20 km NW) are its adjacent cities in the Lycus valley (cf. Col 2:1, 4:13–16), through which runs the Roman highway connecting Ephesus with the Euphrates right through Asia Minor. Both Herodotus (Hist. 7:30 in ca. 5 BCE) and Xenophon (Anab. 1:2:5–6 in ca. 4 BCE) testify that Colossae was known as a prosperous city well before the two neighboring cities were founded during the reign of Seleucid kings. The income from the production of fine wool, and from visitors attracted by the volcanic hot springs, assured economic success in the cities until an earthquake devastated the valley in 60 CE, especially Laodicea (Tacitus, Annals 14:27). Despite the devastation, Pliny the Elder still counted Colossae as one of the well-known Phrygian cities (Hist. 5:145 in ca. 1 CE), contrary to what the fragmentary text of Strabo (Geog. 12:8:13) might indicate. The city housed the imperial altar and was licensed to mint coins and was therefore considered a center of the imperial cult, together with the neighboring city of Aphrodisias (20 km WSW), the birthplace of Aphrodite (Venus), the matriarch of the Julio-Claudian dynasty.

Authenticity The opening of the letter to the Colossians ascribes the letter to Paul, but commentators are split equally on the question of authorial authenticity (see the chart in Foster, 73–78). This is due to the peculiar styles of writing and theological features, supposedly distinct from the seven undisputed Pauline letters. With regard to the literary styles, for example, one finds an unusually long sentence (Col 1:3–8), peculiar genitival constructions (1:27; 2:11; 3:24), and thirty-four words unique to the letter among the New Testament writings. Theological peculiarities are found primarily in its Christology, eschatology, and ecclesiology. For example, it presents Christ as pre-existent (1:16), Christ-followers’ resurrection as a present reality (2:12; 3:1), and the church is conceived in rather universal terms (1:18). Christ’s pre-existence, however, is also explicitly mentioned in 1 Cor 8:6; a futuristic eschatology is also present in Col 1:5; 3:4, 6, 24–25, and the

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ecclesiology may reflect a pre-Pauline hymnal expression (1:15–20). Moreover, the statistical analysis has been indecisive at best as to whether the literary peculiarities help determine the question of authenticity. These peculiarities may help one consider particular contingencies rather than the possible pseudonymity of the letter (Campbell, 292).

Contingencies The primary contingency seems to be the need to warn the church of the teaching(s) that Paul calls “philosophy” (Col 2:8). Expressions such as “mystery,” “wisdom,” “knowledge,” “fullness,” “hidden,” “revealed” (1:9–10, 19, 26–28; 2:2–3, 23; 3:3, 4, 10, 16; 4:9), “worship of angels” (2:18) and “elemental spirits” (2:20) have led to various speculations concerning a Gnostic or mystery cultic influence. On the other hand, these expressions can easily be understood within the wider Jewish context, particularly the apocalyptic tradition (Rowland and Morray-Jones, 157–60). This point is substantiated by the textual evidence for the Jewish presence in the Lycus valley, and its vicinities (Obad 20, Ant. 12:119, 125, 148–53, Flac. 68–69). It is probable that in writing the letter the author felt the need to emphasize the centrality of Christ, and the present assurance of the future salvation, in order to counter the content of the “philosophy,” and the attitudes prompted by the teaching that affected how the community members relate to one another (Col 3:8–9). It is not that the author repudiated apocalyptic features of the Jewish tradition—some of the expressions may reflect the author’s own apocalyptic tendency—but he was warning that false emphasis on apocalyptic experiences would damage the intercommunal relations of the Colossian church (2:18, 23). Thus the emphasis on the participation of members “in Christ” as the “head” of the community (1:18, 2:10, 19), with the sustained motif of baptism (2:12–13, 20, 3:1, 9–11), may have been designed to attain or regain unity among the members (3:11). At this point, we should note on the Jewish feature of the community. The superordinate community identified with Christ is not the same as the wider Jewish commonwealth. In this sense, Jewish Christ-followers join the superordinate community out of the subordinate Jewish community as other ethnic members do. Since Christ is the fulfillment of the promise given to Abraham, Jewish traditions may be important features among other ethnic and cultural features of the superordinate community. Thus, for example, Paul is able to describe baptism as “spiritual circumcision” (2:11). However, he relativizes their primacy by saying that they “are only a shadow of what is to come,” and those that primarily relate to the community (substance) “belong to Christ” (2:17). One may also take into consideration the influence of the imperial cult and its theology to further specify the contour of what the author is countering for the Jesus-community. This may be discerned in the Christological hymn (1:15–20) in particular which portrays the contrast between Christ’s cosmic rule that brings reconciliation among different social groups and the imperial cosmology that justifies the social stratification by force (cf. Maier, 63–102). One other contingency may be reflected in the household codes (Haustafeln) with its special interest in the slave-master relationship (3:18–4:1). If one takes into consideration the fact that the present letter and the one to Philemon share a great number of personae, one purpose of Colossians may well be understood as that of securing communal support to amend the relationship between Philemon and his (former) slave Onesimus (Campbell, 270–71).

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Scenario All things above considered, it is supposed in this chapter that the letter was authored by Paul, in an Ephesian prison (assisted by Timothy), and addressed to the community of Christ-followers in Colossae built by Epaphras as an extension of Paul’s missionary activities in Asia Minor in 55–57 CE (Acts 19:10, Col 1:7. cf. 1 Cor 16:19). The letter was written because Paul was concerned by what he perceived as the hazards of an excessive interest in Jewish apocalyptic mysticism, and perhaps also by the imperial ideology that justified and intensified social stratification. It also served as a follow up to the exhortation to reconciliation in the letter to Philemon of Colossae sent immediately prior to the present letter.

Social Identity Approach and Methodological Assumptions This chapter assumes the underlying social identity theory of the volume, and supposes that the elimination of relational conflicts between members of different subordinate groups is achieved by creating a community with a superordinate identity, to which these groups mutually belong. In attempting to solve the inter/intragroup conflicts (“intergroup” between different subordinate groups, “intragroup” within the superordinate community), the key for Paul is to enhance the sense of solidarity of the members of these subordinate groups to the church in Colossae (superordinate community) by emphasizing Christ as its central focus (superordinate identity). The chapter’s argument is also based upon the theory of collective memory, which helps maintain and enhance the community identity. The sustained motif of the baptismal rite of passage in the letter is understood as prompting the members to recall the ritual experience in which they enacted the story of Christ crucified and resurrected, so as to truly own the communal implications of participation in the superordinate identity of Christ (cf. Connerton, 72–104). The effect of the baptismal theme is further evaluated with the social process theory of liminality (Turner, 94–130), which explains the rite as creating an anti-institutional locus where the boundaries between diverse social positions are declared inconsequential. The following interpretation will assume these theories, which will be elaborated further where necessary.

Commentary Foundational Memory of the Community (1:1–2:5) (1:1–12) Sharers of Collective Memory The letter begins with a greeting from Paul and Timothy (1:1). That the latter is mentioned in the opening rather than the final section with other ministers (4:7–17) may mean that he was actively involved in the writing of the letter (cf. Dunn, Colossians, 35–39). The recipients, the “brothers and sisters . . . in Colossae,” are “in Christ” (1:2). The locative sense of the preposition “in” as of “in Christ” and the like informs the reader that they have now entered the sphere identified with Christ (“transferred to the kingdom of His beloved

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Son” in Col 1:13). The participants form a community that live out the memory of Christ, who accepted and served different others. This designation is repeated throughout the letter (fifteen times together with “in him” and “in the Lord”), because Paul wants the Colossians, with all their various subordinate identities due to ethnic and social differences, to keep bringing to mind that they now belong to Christ, the primary identity of the superordinate community. Following the greeting, Paul states the content of his prayer—thanksgivings (1:3–8) and requests (1:9–12)—for the Colossians. First, he thanks God for their faith in Christ and resultant love among the community members (1:4) based upon their “hope in heavens” (1:5). With the threefold virtues peculiar to Paul (1 Cor 13:13, 1 Thess 1:3, 5:8. cf. Gal 5:5–6), the reader is reminded that the present trust and the future expectation define what the communal relationship is like. The confidence in the communal life is enhanced by the reminder that the solidarity among Christ-followers is “bearing fruit” beyond the Lycus valley extending to “the whole world” (Col 1:6). The connection between the Colossians and Paul in Ephesus via the ministry of Epaphras (1:7–8), who is “one of you” (4:12), exemplifies such an interregional communality and commonality. In his prayer on behalf of the Colossians, Paul asks for “all spiritual wisdom and understanding” and “the knowledge of God” (1:9, 10). These, together with true comprehension of the gospel (1:6), are probably mentioned here with the later warning against “philosophy and empty deceit” (2:8) in mind. Paul is confident that the truth of the remembered story of the gospel would help overcome the ill effects of false teachings. While the latter leads to indulgence in self-centered practices and a false sense of superiority causing status divisions (2:16–23), the former leads to patient endurance to communally attain the future inheritance (1:11–12). These opening words specify Paul’s concern for the Colossians. The ill effects of the false teaching on the communal life (in the eschatological tension of now and not yet) are going to be countered primarily by the reminder of the ontological reality of the centrality of Christ in the superordinate community where Christ-followers from various subordinate groups belong and seek to live out the reality. In the following section, therefore, the remembered story of Christ is set in the center stage in a hymnal form. (1:13–23) The Story of Christ Remembered The story of Christ is presented in the form of a hymn (Col 1:15–20), probably remembered by the Colossians (cf. 3:16), which is preceded by a general introduction (1:13–14), using the first-person plural pronouns (we, us), and followed by a specific exhortation (1:21–23), using the second-person plural pronouns (you). The reader is impressed by the plural pronouns that Christ’s story has a communal effect. The introduction opens with the idea of rescue and transfer between authorities of “darkness” and authorities of “kingdom” (1:13), which results in “redemption (/deliverance), forgiveness of sins” (1:14). The peculiar expressions of transfer rightly cause the reader to recall the rite of baptism (Käsemann, 160). Between this redemptive-ritualistic introduction, and the conclusion with another concrete idea of reconciliation through death and exaltation (1:21–23), is sandwiched the cosmological story of Christ in a hymnal form. It seems that Paul wants the recipients of the letter to read the hymn in the context of baptism so that they would not only attend to the high Christology of the hymn, but also focus their attention on the transformational implications of the story of Christ that they participated in communally via the rite. While this interpretive direction corresponds with the narrative critical approach that finds the exodus story behind the present section (Wright, 64–67; 410

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McKnight, 122–32), the present approach takes a special note of the function of the rite in directing the community members to the collective memory of Christ in a meaningful way. Notable Christological features of the hymn are the idea of Christ’s pre-existence and his active role in creation (1:15–16, 18), which are, incidentally, briefly yet clearly expressed in 1 Cor 8:6 as well. Already in Wisdom of Solomon, one finds these features and others as designated to the divine wisdom (Dunn, Theology, 272–77). As “the first born” (Col 1:15) in the hymn, the divine wisdom is involved in creation (1:16, Wis 9:1–2), management of creation (Col 1:16, Wis 9:2–3), and salvation (Col 1:20, Wis 10:1–21). Christ’s salvific significance and the earthly ministry to embody the divine may well have encouraged the primitive church to connect him with the wisdom, the personification of the divine will. Furthermore, a tradition that the name of Messiah was created before the creation of the world (cf. b. Pesaḥ. 54a) may have reinforced that connection. While the term “first born (prōtotokos)” rightly designates Christ to the central place in the superordinate community (cf. Col 1:18a), the ordinary familial sense of it impresses upon the Colossians their direct connection with Christ and the resulting transfer of status effected by their participation in Christ. On the idea of management of creation, “thrones or dominions or rulers or powers” are said to be created through and for (/into) Christ (1:16). They are further held together in him (1:17). These may represent spiritual beings (Dunn, Colossians, 91–93), to which some of the Colossians were attracted (cf. 2:8, 15). Thus the emphasis that these beings are under the authority of Christ is meant to undermine the excessive interests in the celestial powers as the Colossians sought apocalyptic visions. Paul may have had in mind the imperial ideology as well. In the imperial cosmology, the political and social domination and ordering (pax Romana) were directly linked with the heavenly concord with Zeus at its center, as reflected in Gemma Augusta (ca. 1 CE). Such imperial theology was clearly depicted on the statues found at the imperial temple of the neighboring city of Aphrodisias (cf. Maier, 71–82). The imagery in Col 1:16–17, therefore, may have helped the Colossians to catch the vision of Christ’s supremacy over the whole creation, and they were convinced of the primacy of loyalty to Christ over obeisance to emperor. They were to be identified with Christ rather than with the emperor. Thus the cosmological story of Christ, which portrays Christ above all creation seems to counter the story celebrated through the imperial rituals. While the latter story was remembered especially by the subordinates as domination by the military power, the former story was remembered in terms of reconciliation by the self-donating act on the cross (1:20). It may be that Paul is envisioning the communal relationship exhorted in the third chapter of Colossians with the baptismal motif to reflect the creation order held together in Christ. Christ’s work of reconciliation has its immediate implications in the status of the Colossians. The transfer of status from darkness to God’s kingdom (Col 1:13) is now specified in terms of former strangers, hostile enemies, and evil doers (1:21), to “holy, blameless, and irreproachable” through the death of Christ (1:22). They are to continue focusing on the new status effected by the life of Christ, which is the gospel that Paul serves (1:23). (1:24–2:5) Paul’s Participation in the Remembered Story The final pericope of the foundational section is a depiction of how the story of Christ continues among Christ’s followers. The underlying theme of baptism helps the reader move from the story of Christ to its applications for their community. The first part (1:24–29) focuses on Paul’s role in the ministry of the gospel 411

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as was forecasted in Col 1:23, which hints at the expected results of the ministry among the Colossians (2:1–5). As “a servant of the gospel” (1:23), Paul makes known his role of spreading the gospel among the Gentiles (1:27), and the inevitable experience of sufferings or afflictions (1:24, 29, 2:1). The experience most concretely points to his physical imprisonment (4:10), yet some sort of mental discipline may also be in view, as the word for “suffering” (agōnizomai, 1:29) is used for Epaphras’s “wrestling” in prayer (4:12) as well. Perhaps in this way, at least partly, the absentee apostle can affirm that he struggles for those in the Lycus valley, including “all who have not seen me face to face” (2:1). The peculiar saying of “completing what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions” (1:24) needs to be understood with the common idea in Paul’s letters of participating in Christ’s suffering (Rom 8:17, 2 Cor 1:5, 4:10–11, Phil 3:10–11). It is, thus, literally “completing the things lacking in the-sufferings-of-Christ-in-my-flesh” (Murphy-O’Connor, 1195). Paul’s part of participation in Christ’s suffering continues as he plays his part in the communal story of Christ. As suffering for others marks out the life of Christ and of the messenger of the very gospel story, the community members who are identified with Christ are also encouraged to continue or “complete” the legacy. Therefore, the gospel is almost synonymous with “the word of God” (1:25), “the mystery” (1:26), and not least “(which is) Christ in you” (1:27). While the Colossians are reminded with the phrase “in Christ” and the like (see above) that they participate in the superordinate community, the phrase “Christ in you” (1:28. cf. 2:5, Rom 8:10, 2 Cor 13:5, Gal 2:20) impresses upon them a more personal and existential significance of the social reality within the community, prompting each member to seek maturity in Christ. Paul may be warning those who seek esoteric visions for empty self-promotion over others (2:18, 23) by emphasizing that Christlikeness based upon firm trust in Christ is the sure sign of revelation of the mystery (2:3, 5).

The Story of Identity Transfer (2:6–23) (2:6–15) Transfer of Identity The second part of the letter deals specifically with the ill effects caused by what Paul describes as “philosophy and empty deceit” (2:8), which have turned the Colossians’ focus away from Christ as their primary basis for identity. Thus, they were losing sight of the new status in Christ. Therefore, Paul encourages them to reconsider the significance of their new status by reminding them of the experience when they “received Christ” (2:6). The word “receive (paralambanō)” is usually used for transmission of traditions (1 Cor 11:23, 15:1, 3, Phil 4:9), while only here it denotes conversion. The experience of conversion reappears in Col 2:18. The word choice may have been influenced by the previous connection between “the word of God” (1:25) and “Christ in you” (1:27). The exhortation to “continue to live (/walk)” based upon the experience of conversion is further emphasized by images of growth in agriculture (“rooted”) and construction (“built up”) (2:7). Reception of Christ is supposed to accompany transformation in Christ. In the introduction of this commentary (on Contingency) it is shown that the probable identity of the “philosophy” is some variety of Jewish apocalyptic mysticism, which is described here as both “according to human tradition (paradosis)” and “(cosmic) elemental spirits (/elements,

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stoicheia)” (2:8). In Galatians, the former was a focus of Paul’s pre-conversion religious commitment (Gal 1:10), and the latter included the Torah as the governing force over the Jews (4:3. cf. LXX Deut 32.8) among other elements (e.g., fire, air, water, earth in Philo Cherubim 127, Heir 134, 152, Moses II.53) that supposedly governed the rest of the created world. This teaching is contrasted with the one “according to Christ” (Col 2:8). Probably drawing on the wisdom Christology as in the earlier hymn (cf. 1:15, 19), Christ is described as embodying “fullness of deity” (2:9). While a high view of Christ is evident, the peculiar phrase of “bodily (sōmatikōs)” (cf. Luke 3:22, 1 Tim 4:8) and the present tense of the verb “dwells” direct the reader’s attention to the present and immediate effect of the teaching among the community. The divine nature manifest in Christ is now made manifest among the community of Christ-followers, because he is “Christ in you” (Col 1:27). This Christ is further described as “the head of every ruler and authority” (2:10. cf. 1:16, 18). In these three verses (vv. 8–10) the themes of the previous hymn (1:15–20) are recalled, and show that the cosmic reality has concrete effects for the communal relationship. In the next five verses, Paul further delineates the significance of the story of identity transfer for the community members. First, he refers to the rites of circumcision and baptism as metaphors in order to impress upon the reader the significance of their transfer from one status to another (2:11–13). Paul speaks of the “spiritual circumcision (/circumcision without hand)” and “circumcision of Christ” (2:11), which most likely refer to the fact of their transfer effected by participating in Christ (cf. Rom 2:28–29). This naturally leads to the idea of participation in Christ’s death and resurrection through baptism (Col 2:12, cf. Rom 6:3–4), together with the expression of “putting off (/unclothing)” (Col 2:11, see “clothing” in 3:9–12) that implies the baptismal rite. Thus, the exhortation to live the transferred life in the community is effectively communicated with the theme of baptism, in which they enact the transfer from death to life, or darkness to kingdom (cf. 1:13). The collective memory of life, death, and resurrection of Christ is thus activated by both implicit and explicit references to the rite of baptism among the sharers of the memory to live the life worthy of the name that characterizes the superordinate community. The significance of Christ’s death on the cross is described with some more metaphors. The idea that “(God) forgave (charisamenos)” (3:12), which could mean to cancel, may have led to the metaphor of erasing the legal debt record (3:14). Further, the metaphor of triumphal procession is employed, where the rulers and authorities are disarmed and publicly disgraced (“made a public example,” 2:15). Again drawing from the image of the hymn (cf. 1:16–17), Paul emphasizes the supremacy of Christ over the ruling powers. (2:16–23) Attention to the Identity of Christ The latter part of this section seeks to counter the ill effects of the contrary teaching, specifically against its false evaluations of others (2:16–19) and against its false practices (2:20–23). None should be allowed to “condemn” (2:16) or “disqualify (/abuse, accuse, cf. Foster, 286–87 citing Yinger, 144–45)” (2:18) the Colossians for lack of certain practices and experiences. The items of practice in 2:16 (especially “sabbaths”) seem to support the view that the contrary teaching encourages one to observe Jewish regulations (cf. Gal 4:10), which are a “shadow of what is to come, but the substance belongs to Christ (lit. the body [is] of Christ)” (Col 2:17). The Colossians are to attend to the substance instead of its shadow pointing to the eschatological reality. Perhaps the peculiar expression of “the body of Christ” is intentional as Paul reminds them again immediately afterward of the hymnal theme of Christ’s 413

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headship and of its relation to the church as his “whole body” (2:19). They are to know what to pursue as reality that belongs to the church, the body of Christ. The Colossians are not to be disqualified (/accused) for the lack of “self-abasement (/humility) and worship of angels” (2:18). “Dwelling on visions” is rather to be translated as “those things he saw (while) entering,” pointing to the activities of humility and worship by angels, which are typical themes of the Jewish apocalyptic visions (cf. Abot R. Nat 23a, cited by Rowland and Morray-Jones, 158–59). The false teachers and their followers in Colossae looked down upon other members for the lack of such visions in their initiatory experiences. In this whole section, Paul often returns to the hymnal theme of the cosmic reality and shows its intercommunal applications (2:10, 15, 19). Apart from the implicit contest between the cosmic concord under Christ and the imperial domination noted in Col 1:16–17, it seems to be Paul’s intention that such a cosmic-communal connection is compared with the misguided cosmic-communal connection, that is, the apocalyptic speculations of the false teachers which result in actions and experiences that cause not only disunity and rivalry among the community members (2:16, 18), but also external self-promotion that satisfies one’s flesh but damages his body (2:23). The new status (1:22) attained through participating in the life of Christ need not be disqualified or accused by the misuse and abuse of such status.

Liminal Enactment of Christ’s Memory (Col 3:1–4:1) The letter now turns properly to the ethical section. Participating in Christ as the head of the superordinate community, members are to draw from heaven, where Christ resides, principles of living and relating with other Christ-followers gathering from various subordinate groups. Maintaining the motif of baptism from the previous section, Paul invites the members to continue acting out among themselves the ethical implications of the collective memory of Christ crucified and raised. He shows how such a new mode of inter/intragroup relationship may affect even the patriarchal ordering that may well have been assumed by the community members. (3:1–4) Upward and Forward Perspective If the previous section focused on one’s secure status as a result of transferring his/her solidarity with Christ, the present section deals with the consequent applications, primarily to inter/intragroup relationships, that is, indicative followed by imperative, or the eschatological tension of now and not yet experienced by the Christ-following community. The spatial emphasis—“less ‘forward’ in time than ‘up in space’” (Barclay, 89)—especially in Col 3:1 with a peculiar expression of “you have been (/were) raised” (past tense) should not be easily understood as a sign of realized eschatology, since Paul has a clear future expectation of the revelation of Christ (3:4). In the apocalyptic context of the letter (see Introduction: Contingencies), vertical-horizontal oscillation is to be expected (cf. Rowland and Morray-Jones, 171). The repeated object of focus—“things that are above” (3:1, 2)—directs the readers away from excessive interest in celestial speculations and the fleshly regulations that prove to be of no value (2:20–23), and toward the heavenly reality that affects the present relationship. The baptismal motif is rather clear in the expression “raised with Christ” in 3:1, together with the theme of death and revelation with Christ (3:3–4). As Rom 6:1–23 teaches the significance

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of participating in Christ and recognizing the new allegiance with the motif of baptism, the same motif is employed here so that the reader is reminded how such solidarity with Christ would affect the communal life. The baptismal motif of this introductory part to the following ethical section prepares the reader to hear Paul’s exhortations with the vivid memory of the story of Christ enacted in the ritual situations of the community. (3:5–11) Unclothing of the Former Way After the introductory part, Paul begins his concrete ethical exhortation with two lists of five vices, which corresponds with a list of virtues in the following section. The vices seem to manifest a typical Jewish view of Gentile immorality reflected, for example, in Wis 14:22–29, whose dominant criticism is against their sexual disorder rooted in idolatry and deception. It is, therefore, not surprising that the first list is summarized as idolatry (Col 3:5) and the second as lying to one another (3:8–9). More important is that the second list concerns the inter/intragroup relationship, which is directly contrasted with the list of five relational virtues (3:12). Paul uses the expressions that remind the reader of the baptismal rite (cf. Gal 3:27 where there is a specific reference to baptism and the motif of “clothing Christ”): the former vices are to be unclothed (3:9) and the latter virtues are to be clothed (3:12; cf. 3:10). At the core of the inter/intragroup relational exhortations lies the eradication of social boundaries on the basis of the unity achieved by mutual sense of solidarity with Christ: “there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free, but Christ is all and in all” (3:11). Needless to say that the unity envisioned in the superordinate community means that people with different gender, ethnic or cultural particularities come together as they are to celebrate the commonality in Christ, and not that they are forced to abandon the particularities to be integrated into a monolithic entity (Asano, 200–6). The emphasis on the centrality of Christ makes sense because the superordinate community of Christ creates a locus where conflicts between subordinate groups are expected to be solved. Yet, it is further significant that this locus of unity and equality is presented with reference to the baptismal context. This is because a liminal state in between the pre-ritual and post-ritual (unliminal) states of structural order is emphasized in the middle of a rite of passage (Turner, 102–8). Thus, the egalitarian proclamation is naturally expected at the core of the baptismal saying, as is also observed in 1 Cor 12:13 and Gal 3:28. The state of liminality is said to be confined within the ritual moment, and it is usually understood as giving an occasion to appreciate the social order in the post-liminal state. Thus, a rite of passage is said to function as a confirmation of the social status quo. However, it is also observed that special affinity groups like a religious community sometimes maintain the liminal state even outside the rite, so that the whole of community life reflects a ritual-liminal value (permanent liminality). Paul was aware of some relational problems that “the philosophy” might have caused. Other (and perhaps related) problems may well have been caused by the conflict between various subordinate groups, such as ethnic and religious groups, as the different categories in the baptismal saying suggest. Especially notable is the social difference between “slave and free,” since Paul gives further directions on this problem later in the Haustafeln (Col 3:18–4:1). The curious addition of “barbarians, Scythians” to the saying (cf. 1 Cor 12:13, Gal 3:28) may represent people from the most distant margins (both socially and geographically) under Roman imperial 415

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control (Maier, 217–20). Paul may be contrasting two superordinate communities. One is the highly stratified imperial control centered around the emperor (pater patriae), and the other has Christ (the Lord of creation in Col 1:16) at its center, whose life of self-donation symbolized by the cross brought reconciliation and unity among members from subordinate groups (1:13–23, 24–2:5). (3:12–17) Clothing of the New Way After unclothing the vices, the Colossians are told to cloth themselves with virtues of “compassion, kindness, humility, meekness and patience” (3:12). Together with the additional exhortations of bearing and forgiving (3:13), Paul’s concern for the inter/intragroup relationship is clear. The subsequent emphasis on love that leads to “perfect harmony” (3:14), and peace that reflects the church as “one body” (3:15), underscores the theme of unity in the previous baptismal saying (3:11). Exhortation to mutual forgiveness is based upon the Lord’s forgiveness (3:13). Reference to the divine forgiveness is almost lacking in the Pauline Epistles. The only exceptions are Rom 4:7 (citing Ps 31:3) and Col 2:13 (cf. Col 1:14). The idea that “the Lord (Christ) has forgiven (echarisato)” is found only in Col 3:13. By attributing forgiveness to Christ using the cognate verb (aphiēmi is more common), Paul may be directing the reader’s attention back to the impressive exposition of crucifixion in Col 2:13–14, where “he (God) forgave (charisamenos) us.” It is the divine forgiveness accomplished by means of Christ’s death on the cross. Those who participated through baptism in the fate that effected divine forgiveness are to participate in creating a forgiving community. (3:18–4:1) New Ordering in Christ The general moral exhortations are followed by the Haustafeln. While the three categories of relationship—wives and husbands (3:18–19), children and fathers (3:20–21), slaves and masters (3:22–4:1)—are not unknown in the Jewish teachings on inter/intragroup relationships (Philo, Hypoth. 7:14, Josephus, Ant. 4:209, t. Ber., 3:3, 7:2. cf. Crouch, 146–51), the disproportionate emphasis on the third relationship and the explicit attention to the responsibility of slaves (3:22–25. cf. Arist., Rhet. 1:5:7) are peculiar features of the letter. The special interest in the slaves’ conduct in the Roman agricultural handbooks (Columella, Rust. 1:6:3, 1:8:10. cf. Harrill, 85–117) merely reflects a concern as to how slaves on the field are to be controlled by vilicus, the elite slave substituting for the absentee estate owner. This particular anomaly seems to warn the reader not to expect an ordinary patriarchal ordering in the Haustafeln. After reading the preceding sections with the sustained theme of the liminal rite of baptism, one is made to consider how the intrusion of the liminal ideal of oneness and equality to the patriarchal tradition may affect the relationship, particularly between slaves and masters, among other members of the superordinate community. In the exhortations to slaves, the fourfold repetition of “Lord (/Master)” as the object of allegiance draws the immediate attention of the reader. The repeated reference may have been an occasion in which Paul attempted to direct not only slaves, but also their earthly masters to their common allegiance to the master in heaven (cf. 3:1). This reminder that they share Christ as their common master relativizes the patriarchal master-slave relationship and provides an opportunity to evaluate how the liminal ideal may affect the structural order. This logic seems plausible as one takes note of the reason why the earthly master ought to act justly and fairly, because “you too have a master in heaven” (4:1).

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Looking at the text from this perspective, the exhortations in the slave-master relationship appear less patriarchal. For example, slaves are told to give a wholehearted service primarily to the Lord (kuriō), “and not to anthrōpois (lit. people)” (3:23). The reference to “people” corresponds with the adjective anthrōpareskoi (lit. people-pleasing; in 3:22 “to please them”). Since the object (people) of “pleasing” is “the masters according to flesh” (3:22), “people” in 3:23 should also be understood as masters of slaves (thus, “not for your masters” as in NRSV). Moreover, the peculiar expression “to the Lord Christ (kyriō Christō)” (3:24. cf. Rom 16:18) emphasizes that one is to serve, not other masters, but Christ, the master. The command (Col 3:23) and the reminder (3:24) to give service not (as) to the masters is beyond the obvious expectation of the patriarchal order.

Community Extended (4:2–18) (4:2–6) Sharing in Missionary Work In the first part of this final section, Paul exchanges concerns with the Colossians. To demonstrate the mutual dependence among the equal members (cf. 3:11) of the superordinate community in Christ, Paul not only gives instructions, but also asks for support. He lets the Colossians know that their prayer assists his missionary activities. Elsewhere “the mystery of Christ” (4:3) means “the word of God” (1:25) or his salvific plan that includes the Gentiles (cf. 1:23–27). Therefore, “the door for the word” is a metaphor for the opportunity to preach the gospel (cf. 1 Cor 16:9, 2 Cor 2:12), yet the reminder that Paul is “in prison” may also suggest that his wish was literally the discharge (“God will open”) from the cell to engage in the missionary activities more freely. With the missionary sensitivity “toward outsiders,” Paul gives advice for the reader’s deeds and words (cf. 3:17). The Colossians are to “conduct yourselves wisely (/walk in wisdom)” (4:5). Wisdom in the letter is mostly concerned with the revelation of Christ (1:9, 28, 2:3, 3:16). Therefore, the manner in which the Colossians associate with outsiders should testify to the salvific way of life and death of Christ. Perhaps the expression “making the most of (/buying out) the time” should be understood in terms of eschatological motivation for the missionary conduct, that is, they should act with full awareness that the end is near (Dunn, Colossians, 265–66). With the same missionary concern, Paul asks that their words be “gracious” and “seasoned with salt (i.e., stimulating)” (4:6) so that they direct one’s attention to the salvific content of the gospel. (4:7–18) Confirming Social Network As Paul moves to his closing greetings, notable emphasis is given to the sense of comradeship, especially expressed by syn(“co”)-compound nouns. Paul repeats these words to introduce the ministers in Ephesus who greet the Colossians (co-slave in 4:7, co-prisoner in 4:10, co-workers in 4:11), in order to let them know that they are connected with the Ephesian church. Two of them are introduced as “one of you” in order to further affirm the connection between churches in Colossae and those in Ephesus. Tychicus and Onesimus are to visit Colossae (4:7–9). The former is described as a “co-servant (/-slave) in the Lord.” The latter is understood in this commentary as the former slave of Philemon (Phlm 10, 16). Furthermore, Epaphras is later introduced as a “servant (/slave) of Christ Jesus” (Col 4:12). The reader, having read Col 4:1, may take note of the impressive picture of how Paul

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and the three servants are all united in the service for the “Master in heaven.” Aristarchus, Mark, and Justus are described as “only ones of the circumcision” (4:11), that is, Jews in origin. The tension between this description and the affirmation that “they have been a comfort to me” (4:12) may reflect the sensitive relation between the Pauline churches and the Jewish heritage behind the “philosophy” (2:8). Paul asks the Colossians to greet the Laodicean Christ-followers for him even though his letter has recently been sent to them (4:15–16). The mention of the churches in Laodicea and in Hierapolis (4:13) together with this exhortation for further communication might be intended to remind the reader of a wider social network for the members of the superordinate communities in Christ, that is, they are not alone, connected with others in Christ across the Lycus valley. Before the final farewell, Paul adds a personal note to Archippus: “see that you complete the task” (4:17). Nothing is known about the task except that it was “received in the Lord.” The same person appears as one of the recipients of the letter to Philemon as “our fellow soldier” (Phlm 2). That nine out of twelve names mentioned in Colossians appear in Philemon leads many commentators to conclude that the house church of Philemon is a part of the Colossian church, and that the house church has recently received a message from the same author to encourage Philemon to make reconciliation with his former slave Onesimus (8–19). It has been suggested that the “task” of Archippus as a missionary pastor was to ensure that the reconciliation take place (Campbell, 270). If this is the case, a part of the purpose of Colossians is to follow up on the previous plea to Philemon as a slave master. Thus the emancipatory saying (Col 3:11) and the anomalous slave-master instruction (3:18–4:1) may have had both general and specific exhortations in mind. In the final farewell, Paul once again invites the Christ-followers in Colossae to remember Christ’s passion, of which Paul is a part (“remember my chain” in 4:18). It invites them to act on their memory of Christ within and outside the community in order to secure the communal unity among the members of the superordinate community.

References Asano, A. Community-Identity Construction in Galatians. London and New York: T&T Clark Continuum, 2005. Campbell, D. A. Framing Paul: An Epistolary Biography. Grand Rapids and Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2014. Connerton, P. How Societies Remember. Themes in Social Science. Cambridge et al.: Cambridge University Press, 1989. Crouch, J. E. The Origin and Intention of the Colossian Haustafel. FRLANT 109. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1972. Dunn, J. D. G. The Epistles to the Colossians and to Philemon. NIGTC. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996. Dunn, J. D. G. The Theology of Paul the Apostle. Grand Rapids and Cambridge: Eerdmans, 1998. Foster, P. Colossians. BNTC. London et al.: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2016. Käsemann, E. Essays on New Testament Themes. London: SCM, 1964. Maier, H. O. Picturing Paul in Empire: Imperial Image, Text and Persuasion in Colossians, Ephesians and the Pastoral Epistles. London et al.: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2013. McKnight, Scot. The Letter to the Colossians. NICNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018. Murphy-O’Connor, J. “Colossians.” Pages 1191–99 in The Oxford Bible Commentary. Edited by J. Barton and J. Muddiman. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

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Rowland, Christopher and Morray-Jones, C. R. A. The Mystery of God: Early Jewish Mysticism and the New Testament. Leiden: Brill, 2007. Turner, V. The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. Chicago: Aldine Publishing, 1969. Wright, N. T. Colossians and Philemon. TNTC. Downers Grove and Nottingham: IVP, 1986. Yinger, Kent. “Translating Katabrabeueto [‘Disqualify,’ NRSV] in Colossians 2.18.” Bible Translator 54 (2003): 138–45.

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Chapter  14

1 Thessalonians Matthew P. O’Reilly

Introduction First Thessalonians is among the earliest of all NT documents. As such, it carries distinct potential to shed light on the way some early Christ-followers understood their shared life and their relationship to outsiders. The letter was likely written from Corinth not more than a few months (and perhaps only weeks) after Paul completed his first visit to Thessalonica in 50–51 CE (Barclay, “Conflict,” 515). That Paul is the author is a matter of agreement, though the possibility that Silvanus and Timothy may have influenced the content of the letter should not be overlooked. All three are named as authors (1:1) and the first-person plural is used regularly. The first-person singular is also used and clearly represents Paul’s voice (2:18; cf. 3:5; 5:27). From that we can infer that Paul dictated the letter and was likely the one most responsible for its final form (Fee, 4).

Audience The recipients were members of a group called “the church of the Thessalonians” (1:1). Paul remarked that they turned from idols to God (1:9), which is usually interpreted to mean the recipients were neither Jews nor Gentile God-fearers but were instead recent converts from devotion to Roman gods. The idea is that Paul would not refer to those associated with Judaism as idol-worshippers (Esler, “1 Thessalonians,” 1200). Proponents of this view usually see the lack of OT quotes in 1 Thessalonians as reflecting Paul’s avoidance of appeal to scriptures that would have been unfamiliar to recent pagan converts. Nijay Gupta has recently challenged this consensus by arguing that the category “God-fearers” did not necessarily mean “very Jewish.” On the contrary, it might have included pagans who offered devotion to the Jewish God alongside other deities of the Roman pantheon. If Gupta is right, Paul could have referred to these persons as former idol-worshippers even with their sympathies toward Judaism (“Thessalonian Believers,” 91–113). Others point to Acts 17:4 as evidence for a Jewish minority among the recipients of 1 Thessalonians. If the evidence from Acts is correct, then Paul’s statement about turning from idols is a generalization that describes the group based on the identity of the overwhelming Gentile majority (Witherington, 74).

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Setting The experience of this young church was marked by conflict with outsiders. Paul’s own initial proclamation of the gospel in Thessalonica was met with hostility (2:2; cf. Acts 17:1–9), and he compares the recipients’ experience of suffering for the gospel to his own (1:6). Identity theorists note the tendency among ingroup members to “maximize intergroup distinctiveness” when making social comparisons (Hogg and Abrams, 23). As we will see, the conflict setting provides plenty of opportunity for Paul to maximize the differences between the recipients and their antagonists. Such a setting highlights the value of 1 Thessalonians for shedding light on early Christian social identity. Some caution is warranted, since Paul offers little detail regarding the precise nature of the persecution endured by the recipients. Barclay argues that the antagonism they experienced was likely caused by their rejection of Greco-Roman religious practices (“Conflict,” 514). We’ve already noted their turn from idol worship to the worship of the “living and true God” (1:9), and Barclay reminds us how deeply offensive this would have been to devotees of Greco-Roman religion. Thessalonica was home to a number of temples and shrines to pagan deities, and non-Christian friends and family members would have resented believers who ceased participation in expected cultic practices. To turn from the gods and risk offending them was dangerous because it jeopardized civic peace, agricultural success, and avoidance of disasters like floods or earthquakes: “if anything went wrong the Christians could get the blame” (Barclay, “Conflict,” 515).

Social Identity Approach We’ll draw on a range of insights from social identity theory (SIT) as this treatment proceeds. Two theoretical matters are worth introducing in a bit more detail. The first is the concept of “symbolic boundaries.” Lamont and Molnár define symbolic boundaries as “conceptual distinctions made by social actors to categorize objects, people, practices, and even time and space” (168). Boundaries are essential to differentiating between groups, and different groups rely on any number of characteristics to create a sense of similarity shared among members and distinctiveness in contrast to members of other groups. If we can identify the characteristics that, for Paul, distinguish the Thessalonians from other groups, it will aid our understanding of how the letter functions to create and maintain a sense of shared identity among the recipients. In addition to the experience of a group’s distinctiveness, symbolic boundaries may also foster a sense of superiority over other groups (Cho et al., 2). This makes the analysis of symbolic boundaries useful for considering the cognitive and emotional values placed on ingroup distinctives. We’ve already noted the evidence of intergroup conflict in 1 Thessalonians. Research on symbolic boundaries carries potential to illumine our analysis of that conflict by considering the way Paul portrays the differences between his recipients and their persecutors. The second theoretical consideration involves temporal aspects of identity formation. Marco Cinnirella argues for what he calls “possible social identity,” which is the self’s perception of future group memberships. While everyone sees the self as a member of multiple groups in the present, individuals also envision themselves as future members of various other groups.

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Moreover, Cinnirella argues that ingroup members are often interested in persuading other ingroupers to embrace their vision of the group’s future. This may involve positive evaluations of the group’s future and negative portrayals of alternative future social identities (235). Also, people tend to appreciate a sense of diachronic coherence with regard to social identity. As a result, group members often develop what Cinnirella calls “life stories,” which are narratives that give coherence to the past, present, and future of the group. These “life stories” strengthen the group’s identity and increase the potential that group members will adopt a certain vision of the group’s future (235–36). First Thessalonians shows a keen interest in the future and its recipients’ attitude toward the future. In particular, Paul is eager to help community members persevere through persecution in order to experience the future he envisions for them.

Commentary Letter Recipients as a Social Group (1:1–10) (1:1) The Group in Relation to God Markers of group identity appear in 1 Thessalonians from the start. The letter begins in typical Greco-Roman fashion by naming the author and recipients before extending a word of greeting. Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy are the named authors. No titles or other descriptions are given. The recipients are named as “the church (ekklēsia) of the Thessalonians in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” This designation in the first verse of the letter introduces the notion of group membership and begins to cultivate a sense of group belonging. The use of kinship language to describe the recipients’ relationship to God gives the cognitive sense of membership in the ekklēsia a high level of positive value. The language of divine fatherhood occurs again almost immediately in 1:3 and later in 3:11, and Paul employs additional familial language when he calls the recipients “brothers” (adelphoi) in 1:4. Given the importance of maintaining family honor in ancient Mediterranean society, the use of familial language carries potential to influence the recipients’ behavior. If God is their father, they will see the necessity of acting in a way that upholds God’s honor (Esler, “Keeping,” 168). (1:2–10) Thanksgiving As he often does, Paul offers a word of thanksgiving for his recipients (1:2–10). In this case, he is specifically thankful for their “work of faith,” “labor of love,” and “steadfastness of hope” (1:3). This triad of virtues—faith, hope, and love—arise multiple times in the Pauline corpus (1 Thess 5:8; 1 Cor 13:13; cf. Gal 5:5–6). Here each of the virtues is paired with a verbal notion which suggests the virtue itself is expressed in action. We should not read too much into the distinction between work (ergon) and labor (kopos). Both can refer generally to work, and the use of different terms likely has more to do with rhetoric or style than theological nuance. Paul’s point is that he is pleased to know the Thessalonians embody their convictions. These three virtues are not merely characteristics of individual believers, though; they are also markers of group identity. The Thessalonian Christ-followers are a people identified by faith, hope, and love (Esler, “1 Thessalonians,” 1202). Paul’s understanding of the relationship between God and the Thessalonians is developed in v. 4 where he says that God has “chosen” them. The knowledge that they are beloved and 423

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chosen adds further emotional value to the Thessalonians’ social identity. The love of God toward them and the work of God among them distinguishes them from other groups and fills their shared identity with a sense of divine purpose. Even with the lack of direct OT quotes in 1 Thessalonians, the letter is nevertheless characterized by Jewish theology. Paul’s understanding of election is unquestionably shaped by the Jewish belief that the only true God chose Israel to be his people. The notion of election meant that the Hebrew people were distinguished from all other people groups and selected by God for special status and vocation (cf. Exod 19:1–6). The language of election functioned to mark and reinforce a social boundary between members of the elect group (Israel) and outsiders (the nations). But Paul now applies that language to the Thessalonian congregation. In effect, he is redrawing the boundaries of God’s chosen people to include non-Israelites who were once outsiders. This raises a question. If their election is not a matter of ethnicity, then how should it be understood? Paul’s answer comes in 1:5. The Thessalonians’ election is manifest in their joyful reception of the gospel. That reception is explained with three prepositional phrases in v. 5. The gospel came to the Thessalonians (1) “in power,” (2) “in the Holy Spirit,” and (3) “with full conviction.” For Paul, the gospel was a message like no other. It was an instrument of God that worked powerfully to produce conviction in the hearer. This conviction was likely focused on their worship of Greco-Roman deities. Paul says later that the Thessalonians “turned from idols, to serve a living and true God” (1:9). He portrays the proclamation of the gospel as an instrument used by God’s Holy Spirit first to convict the hearer of sin and then to empower the hearer to turn from that sin and become a participant in the mission of God’s elect people to spread the gospel (1:7). Thus, in Paul’s thinking, ethnicity is no longer that which marks off the people of God from other groups. They are the people of God in Christ, and participation in that group is marked by faithfulness to the gospel of their God. Gospel fidelity is now the symbolic boundary that defines the people of God in any one place and unites them with believing communities in other places like Macedonia and Achaia (1:8). Paul is also thankful that the Thessalonians have persevered in faith despite persecution (1:6). While Paul gives no specifics on the nature of their suffering, we noted in the introduction above that this antagonism was likely caused by the recipients’ rejection of Greco-Roman religious practices. By reminding the Thessalonians of their persecution, Paul emphasizes the distinction between the recipients and the outgroup. He has already said the community is chosen by God; by emphasizing outgroup distinction he implies that these antagonists oppose not only the recipients but God too. The contrast between groups strengthens ingroup identity by applying a strong negative evaluation to the outgroup (i.e., persecutors) relative to the numerous markers of positive ingroup identity: beloved, chosen, faithful through suffering. The mention of their persecution thus bolsters their shared identity and increases the likelihood that they will behave in a way that is consistent with that identity. The thanksgiving concludes in 1:10 with a reminder that, having turned from idol worship, the recipients now wait for Jesus—God’s resurrected Son—who will rescue them from “the wrath that is coming.” Paul will develop his expectations for the future in greater detail later in the letter. Nevertheless, he here introduces two contrasting concepts that are key to understanding the identity-forming function of this letter: (1) resurrection and (2) wrath. Individuals have multiple social identities that move in and out of salience in relation to their circumstances. One of those social identities is future possible social identity, which is a person’s vision of membership in a group at some point in the future (Cinnirella, 230). Paul will argue in 4:13–17 that Jesus’s 424

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resurrection ensures the future resurrection of all believers. In 5:1–11, he will develop the future identity in terms of rescue from wrath. The social dynamics of those concepts will be considered later. At this point, the thing to note is that individuals are attracted to temporally coherent social identities, and they will often reinterpret the past and the present to create a sense of continuity with the anticipated future identity (Cinnirella, 235–36). With this brief mention of the future, Paul has interpreted their past movement from idols to the living God (1:9) and their present waiting on the resurrected Jesus (1:10) in a way that stands in continuity with the future identity of rescue from wrath. This mention of future rescue for believers and future wrath for others paves the way for the detail to come and amplifies the good things he’s already said about the ingroup in contrast with negatively portrayed outgroupers (cf. Esler, “1 Thessalonians,” 1203).

Paul’s Ministry as “Life Story” (2:1–16) Since individuals are drawn to diachronically consistent representations of group identity, they often interpret the past in a way that coheres with the present and anticipated future of the group. According to Cinnirella, “Representations of the past always have the potential to affect social identity construction in the present and the future” (236). When group members perceive incompatibilities between past, present, and future representations of group identity, there is increased likelihood that they will reject that identity. Cinnirella uses the term “life stories” to describe “narratives which tie the past, present, and predicted futures into a coherent representation” (235). This feature of identity formation suggests that we should be attentive to the way Paul portrays the past. To what extent does his account of past events cohere with his understanding of the present situation and his hope for the future? (2:1–12) Paul’s Motives and Ministry among the Thessalonians As Paul tells the story of his first encounter with the Thessalonians, he repeatedly appeals to their shared memory of the events (“you know” in 2:1, 2, 5, 11; “you remember” in 2:9; “you are witnesses” in 2:10). According to Cho, et al., the appeal to these shared memories reinforces the sense of intimacy between author and recipients. These memories belong to ingroup members and the story told supports their shared identity. The sense of a shared narrative strengthens ingroup cohesion and distinguishes the recipients from outsiders who are portrayed as antagonists in the narrative (2:2). In this way, the collective memory shared by Paul, his apostolic team, and the recipients functions as a symbolic boundary that defines membership in their group (Cho et al., 4). Paul’s account of his initial visit to Thessalonica begins in 2:1. He again addresses the recipients as adelphoi (NRSV “brothers and sisters”), a designation first used in 1:4 and one that will occur repeatedly in the letter. The language of fictive kinship invites the recipients to regard each other and Paul as family, which would require them to guard their shared interests and honor (Esler, “Keeping,” 170). Paul’s arrival in Thessalonica was immediately preceded by suffering (propathontes) which included insults to his honor and perhaps physical assault (hubristhentes, 2:2). If this refers to the events recorded in Acts 16:19–24, then it involved being brought before the Philippian magistrates, public beating, and imprisonment. On top of that, his subsequent arrival in Thessalonica was also met with conflict (agōn). Paul alluded to the Thessalonians’

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persecution in 1:6 and suggested their faithfulness despite suffering was in imitation of him. Paul’s account of his own suffering in 2:1–2 fills in what he meant, and should thus be read with attention to the way it cultivates a sense of shared experience with the recipients. He wants them to know that he identifies with their pain. By portraying the past in a way that highlights their shared experience, Paul is inviting the Thessalonians to see him as “one of us.” Identity theorists recognize that this sense of commonality is key if leaders want to influence groups to act in a certain way (Haslam and Platow, “Wish,” 218–21), and that is precisely what Paul aims to do. In 1:2–10, Paul developed Christian identity in terms of fidelity to the gospel. The reminder that he courageously proclaimed the gospel despite antagonism in the past (2:1–2) stands in continuity with the behavior he desires from the Thessalonians in the present and the future. This temporally coherent representation carries potential to strengthen the salience of the ingroup identity and their resolve to, like Paul, stand firm in the face of suffering. Paul’s ability to influence the community will be greater if he is perceived as more honorable than competing leaders or outgroup members. Honor was a chief virtue in the Greco-Roman world, and the opposition Paul faced in Philippi and Thessalonica was cause for public shame. Verse 3 substantiates Paul’s honor by asserting the upright character of his motivations. He rejects the suggestion that his proclamation of the gospel arose from “deceit or impure motives or trickery.” It sounds as if Paul is denying charges brought against him. If so, we cannot identify the source or know whether the criticisms came from ingroupers or outgroupers (Esler, “1 Thessalonians,” 1203–4). He has little regard for the findings of human courts or public opinion. Instead, he is solely concerned with divine approval (2:4), and he cites the character of his behavior among the Thessalonians as evidence of this (2:5–12). Additionally, Paul’s language expressing his deep care for the recipients strengthens the affective dimensions of the letter. His analogy of a nurse and the reminder that Paul and his cohort shared not only the gospel but themselves also (2:8) both constitute an appeal to the emotions. This is further strengthened by the use of familial language in 2:9 and 2:11 that evokes a sense of family devotion among the recipients and toward Paul (Esler, “1 Thessalonians,” 1204). Paul’s account of his “labor and toil” (2:9) bolsters the affective impact of this section of the letter. When group members think their leaders are unfairly rewarded (e.g., financially), it has a tendency to erode the group’s shared identity (Haslam and Platow, “Wish,” 219–21). This section places a high value on work and the importance of carrying one’s own weight. Jewett sees the emphasis on work as evidence that the recipients were low-status day laborers (“Tenement,” 41–43). And while Paul acknowledges his apostolic privilege of receiving financial support (2:7; cf. 1 Cor 9:4–18), he nevertheless, insists on bearing his own financial burdens by working among the recipients, which adds to his credibility. By rejecting special advantages and refusing to burden the Thessalonians, Paul again reinforces the perception among the recipients that he is “one of us” and increases the likelihood that they will follow his lead. (2:13–16) The Thessalonians’ Response Paul once again expresses his gratitude for the recipients’ positive response to his initial ministry among them (2:13), and this despite the suffering they endured from their fellow countrymen (sumphuletēs, 2:14). Ingroup identity is cultivated by highlighting group distinctiveness in contrast to outgroups (Hogg and Abrams, 23). Here Paul offers a strikingly negative evaluation of the recipients’ antagonists by comparing them to “the Jews, who killed both the Lord Jesus and the prophets” (2:15). He also charges these “Jews” with opposing his ministry and hindering the progress of the gospel to the nations. For Paul, all who 426

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stand in the way of the gospel—whether in Judea or Thessalonica—displease God and are objects of divine wrath. Paul’s argument here places the localized suffering of the Thessalonians within the larger context of the global mission. He wants them to think of themselves not as a single group of sufferers for the gospel but as a subgroup of a larger divinely sanctioned group that will be vindicated by God. This should have the effect of strengthening their commitment to the social group and their resolve to standing firm in the face of danger.

Timothy’s Report and Future Possible Identity (2:17–3:13) The grave situation in Thessalonica fostered Paul’s desire to visit the congregation to strengthen and encourage them. Like earlier sections, this part of the letter is characterized by emotionally charged language that heightens the affective impact of Paul’s correspondence. The mention of Satan’s effectiveness in blocking his visit contributes cosmic significance to the localized conflict (2:18). His desire to see them is substantiated by his view that they are his hope, joy, and the basis of his honor before Jesus (Esler, “1 Thessalonians,” 1205). Unable to visit himself, Paul instead sent Timothy. Despite his warnings that they would encounter persecution (3:4), Paul is worried that they have succumbed to temptation and yielded to their antagonistic neighbors. The figure of “the tempter” in 3:5 is likely another reference to Satan, which again adds larger spiritual significance to their struggle. This portion of the letter also reveals that Paul doesn’t view the situation from what might be called a “once saved, always saved” perspective. Timothy is dispatched to “find out about your faith” (3:5) because Paul saw it as a real possibility that the Thessalonians might abandon their earlier gospel fidelity. Their shared identity as followers of Christ and members of the ekklēsia could have been jeopardized. In v. 6, Paul recounts that Timothy has just returned from Thessalonica with a positive report. The Thessalonians are standing firm and are eager to see Paul as he is to see them. Paul mentions that Timothy brought news of their faith and love. The present omission of hope as the third component of the triad from 1:3 appears to be deliberate since Paul will devote substantial energy to questions of hope and the future in the remainder of the letter (Esler, “1 Thessalonians,” 1206). This is particularly relevant given our interest in temporal aspects of identity formation. It is their future possible social identity that needs to be clarified and enhanced. If Paul can effect increased salience of the future identity, it will aid the Thessalonians in their continued resistance to persecution.

Holiness and Social Distinction (4:1–12) Before turning to that future hope, Paul first articulates a set of behavioral expectations for the community. These expectations all focus on the concept of holiness (hagiosmos, 4:3, 4, 7). It’s noteworthy that Paul does not lodge any heavy criticism of major faults among the recipients, though he does indicate that they have some room for growth (3:12). Whatever needs attention in their common life seems to be a matter of developing what is already a healthy congregation, since Paul suggests in 4:2 that they are already living in a way that pleases God. For the apostle,

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a believer’s character of life is something that always needs attention. Those who have learned to please God “should do so more and more” (4:1). The reference to pleasing God in 4:1 creates a point of contact between Paul’s present expectations here and his account of his past ministry in Thessalonica in 2:1–8, especially v. 4. Paul was faithful to proclaim the gospel even though he encountered strong opposition because his desire to please God outweighed his desire to please human beings. That account of his past ministry functions in two ways in relation to his present expectations. First, Haslam and Platow note that an ingroup is more likely to follow a leader who best represents the position of the group as a whole. Such a leader maximizes intragroup similarity and embodies what differentiates group members from others (“Wish,” 221–24). We’ve seen how Paul’s suffering cultivates a sense of solidarity between him and his recipients. It also means that Paul exemplifies what group members share in contrast to those who oppose them. Paul is prototypical of the norms he expects from the Thessalonians. He desires that they live in a way that pleases God by remaining faithful despite persecution, and he learned from Timothy that they are doing just that. They are all faithfully suffering for the gospel, and Paul was doing that before he brought the gospel to Thessalonica and upon his arrival there. Second, the language of pleasing God contributes to a sense of temporal continuity for the ingroup identity. We observed that Paul’s past suffering in faithfulness stands in diachronic continuity with the identity of gospel fidelity he is presently articulating. As Paul told his story in 2:1–8, we learned that his faithfulness was grounded in a desire to please God alone. He now reminds the suffering Thessalonians that they should have the same motivation (4:1). That is, Paul’s past suffering stands in continuity with the recipients’ present suffering. When he describes past and present perseverance in terms of living to please God, Paul strengthens the diachronic coherence of their shared representation. That the recipients may, like their apostle, live in a way that pleases their deity also adds a sense of positive distinctiveness to a difficult situation and makes the group identity all the more attractive. The language of sanctification and holiness is central to Paul’s expectations for the congregation in Thessalonica; hagiosmos recurs three times in the immediate context (4:3, 4, 7) along with hagiosunē and hagios in 3:13 and hagiaszō in 5:23. The basic meaning of holiness involves being set apart by God. For Paul, such holiness involves behavior that is defined by certain norms. That tōn hagiōn autou in 3:13 designates the community of “his (God’s) holy people” is obscured by the NRSV translation “saints.” Holiness is the distinct identity marker of the people of God. As a result, it is not simply a matter of individual behavior. It involves the way community members relate to one another, a point made explicit with the expectation that group members not exploit their adelphoi (4:6). In SIT, norms “serve to describe and prescribe those attributes which characterize one group and differentiate it from another” (Hogg and Abrams, 171–72), and in 4:3–6 Paul unpacks the concept of sanctification with a series of prescriptions regarding sexual behavior. The recipients are to avoid porneia, which the NRSV translates as “fornication.” Paul likely has in mind all manner of sexual sin. Instead of engaging in such illicit behavior, group members are expected to exercise control over their bodies. Holiness not only regulates the way group members relate to one another; it also distinguishes them from outsiders. For Paul, holiness as sexual self-control differentiates the ingroup from “the Gentiles who do not know God” (4:5). In this way, holiness functions as a symbolic boundary that marks off the ingroup. Paul’s thought here is certainly shaped by the Jewish scriptures, 428

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where holiness distinguishes the Hebrew people from the nations (see, for example, Lev 20:26). By defining the recipients positively in terms of holiness and in contrast to outsiders who do not know the one God, Paul reinforces a sense of ingroup superiority among the Thessalonian believers. Insiders are portrayed as righteous in contrast to immoral outsiders. This suggests that Paul is not simply thinking about their righteous standing before God but about the upright quality of their lives—that is, their holiness. That contrasting depiction would have carried potential to strengthen the emotional value the recipients attached to group membership and thus strengthened their commitment to one another and to their shared norms (Cho et al., 5). Paul rounds out the exhortation by reminding the recipients that the holy life is a matter of divine calling. If they reject holiness, they reject God, not just Paul and his co-workers. Verses 9–12 affirm the bond of love that is already present in the community. Nevertheless, Paul insists that they continually grow in love for one another. The expectation of increased love stands as the positive norm that corresponds to the negative insistence that group members not exploit one another. The community is to be marked by a quiet harmony focused on work and self-sufficiency. This may be further evidence that Paul is writing to urban day laborers (Esler, “1 Thessalonians,” 1208). The exhortation to work quietly could also be evidence that the recipients have done something to exacerbate the conflict. Barclay suggests behaviors such as aggressive evangelism, ridicule of “idols,” and calling attention to the coming divine wrath could have fueled the conflict (Pauline Churches, 185). At the very least, Paul would have them avoid the sort of dependence on outsiders that could put them in a position of heightened vulnerability. At most, he wants them to refrain from actively making their situation worse.

Paul’s Vision of the Group’s Future Identity (4:13–5:11) In this section of the letter, Paul turns his attention to instructing the recipients about the future. As we will see, group dynamics continue to be prominent. We should remember that a person’s perception of future group membership is particularly important for framing social identity and interpreting behavior in the present. Additionally, since individuals tend to prefer continuity of identity over time, we should attend to any connections Paul establishes between his vision of the group’s future and their shared experience in the present. The section divides into two parts: 4:13–18 involves Paul’s instruction regarding future bodily resurrection at the parousia and 5:1–11 involves instruction about “the Day of the Lord” more generally. Both sections end with an exhortation to offer encouragement to one another (4:18; 5:11), which suggests that the recipients were unsettled with regard to the future. Some among their number have died. We don’t know the age or number of the deceased, nor do we know the circumstances of their death. Paul includes this material because he doesn’t want them to be ignorant (agnoeō) regarding the status of these deceased believers. What he means is somewhat unclear. Is he here introducing the notion of future bodily resurrection for the first time? Or is he adding specifics to a general concept with which they were already familiar? In 4:15 and 4:17, Paul portrays the parousia as an imminent event that will occur within his lifetime. So, it’s likely their distress stems from the death of their adelphoi prior to that event. They could be worried that the dead will miss out on the glory of public vindication when Christ returns. But since Paul is

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offering a remedy to hopeless grief, they are more likely worried that the dead will not be saved at all (Barclay, Pauline Churches, 220). These deaths seem to have shaken the foundations of the community and undermined their sense of group identity. The experience of severe grief carries potential to undermine the cohesiveness of the group. Paul has just affirmed their love for one another (philadelphia, 4:9). The stronger their love, the more pronounced the pain of loss. Is their continued commitment to the believing community worth the emotional cost? Additionally, Paul has insisted that they are chosen by God (1:4), but how can they be sure since some of them have died? Shouldn’t God have protected them? As Barclay puts it, “The crisis which they (and Paul) faced was perhaps as much to do with their self-belief as with their beliefs about the deceased” (Pauline Churches, 222; cf. Ascough, “Question of Death,” 529). The section begins with two markers of social identity. First is the language of fictive kinship, which we’ve seen before—adelphoi (4:13). Second is the distinction between the adelphoi and “the rest (NRSV: others) who have no hope” (4:13). Distinction is the key concept in social identity, and Paul here draws a firm line between believers and nonbelievers based on their experience of grief and the extent of their hope. Paul’s description of outsiders as hopeless is more a matter of his theological judgment than it is a description of the experience of outsiders. We have plenty of evidence that many in the ancient world anticipated some experience of life after death (Barclay, Pauline Churches, 224). Paul is describing them not from their perspective but from his theological presupposition that hope derives from being part of the in-Christ community. Outsiders are perceived to be without hope regardless of what they may expect regarding the afterlife because they are not part of the Christ-following community. Paul thus defines the boundaries of the group by the extent to which their grief is filled with hope. Verse 14 substantiates Paul’s view that believers should have hope in the face of death by pointing to the reality of Jesus’s death and resurrection. We observed above that the gospel narrative defines the boundaries of the group. Here we find that it also defines the future of the group, since Jesus’s death and resurrection is portrayed as paradigmatic for deceased believers. Believers can expect their deaths to be followed by bodily resurrection, just as Jesus’s death was followed by bodily resurrection. Paul describes this hope with grand language: the Lord’s cry of command, the archangel’s call, and the sound of God’s trumpet. As Jesus descends, the dead in Christ are raised first. Then those who remain alive at the time of the parousia will be gathered together with the resurrected dead. Notably, Paul doesn’t here claim that the living will be transformed into a glorified state as he does in 1 Cor 15:51–55. That is not to suggest that he didn’t hold that view at the time he wrote 1 Thessalonians; it is only to highlight that his focus is on the coming reunion between the bereaved and the dead in Christ. It is the restoration of the community that is in view. Paul would have the recipients be sure that death has no power to destroy their shared identity. To the contrary, they are a community defined by hope for bodily resurrection. And that future hope is what shapes their present experience of grief. If 4:13–18 draw the line between insiders and outsiders based on the future hope for resurrection, 5:1–11 reinforce that boundary with a series of stark contrasts between the future hope of believers and the fate of nonbelievers. The contrasting future identities of these two groups revolve around their respective experiences of the Day of the Lord (5:2), which, Paul says, will come without warning as a thief at night. That day will be a day of inescapable destruction for nonbelievers, who are in the dark, so to speak, about what awaits them. In contrast, believers are not in the dark. Rather, they are “children of light” (5:5). There is a play on words 430

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in v. 5 and again in v. 8. Believers are said to be “children of the day” (5:5) who “belong to the day” (5:8). In both cases, “day” not only refers to “daytime” but also to “the Day of the Lord” (Barclay, Pauline Churches, 225). Once again, outsiders are unaware of what is coming. They are like those who sleep or become intoxicated, both of which Paul associates not with the day but with night (5:7). Hope for the parousia thus becomes a key component of the recipients’ social identity. They are defined in terms of the Day of the Lord. They will obtain salvation while outsiders receive wrath (5:9). The strength of the contrast between “us” and “them” throughout this part of the letter is pronounced. For Paul, everyone falls into one of two groups, and their experience of the future—for better or worse—corresponds to their group membership. In this way, the notion of the Day of the Lord and all it entails (e.g., bodily resurrection and wrath) forms a symbolic boundary that functions to reinforce a sense of superiority within the ingroup. They will be saved. Outsiders will not. This part of the letter closes with an exhortation to encourage one another (5:11; cf. 4:18), which highlights the continuity Paul sees between present behavior and future hope. If the future identity is salient, community members will do everything they can to build up and strengthen the community. They will encourage each other in the face of death. They will stand firm in the knowledge that their persecutors are “in darkness” and that community members will be vindicated on the Day of the Lord when their antagonists receive the wrath that awaits them. Paul affirms that the Thessalonians are already doing this in 5:11; nevertheless, he instructs them to continue encouraging one another, which suggests the practice is important for the maintenance—and perhaps the survival—of the community.

Respect for Group Leaders (5:12–28) This closing section of the letter begins with an appeal for the community to respect their leaders. Leadership is an important dynamic in all groups, whether small ones like the Thessalonian ekklēsia or larger ones like the inhabitants of the city of Thessalonica—or, for that matter, the Roman Empire (cf. Hogg, “Emergent Leadership,” 197). And Paul’s exhortation to esteem the leaders and love them reminds us how important cooperation between leaders and other group members is for the stability of the group. Paul describes the group leaders not in terms of title but in terms of role: they “labor” among the recipients, they “have charge of you in the Lord,” and they “admonish” (5:12). Esler observes that the absence of titles suggests that the leaders have none (“1 Thessalonians,” 1211). Group members who are prototypical often gain influence and become leaders. “Prototypical” here means that they embody the norms of the group. In newly formed groups, this is often a matter of appearance because the leader has not yet come to exercise influence. In more established groups, the perception of influence is strengthened by increasing actual influence (Hogg, “Emergent Leadership,” 201–2). We have no way of knowing how far along in this process the Thessalonian community has come. What can be said is that Paul highlights two community ideals that these leaders embody. The participial form of kopiaō (“to labor”) used of the leaders in 5:12 is cognate to the noun kopos in 1:3 where Paul affirms the community’s “labor of love.” Similarly, the noun ergon is used both of the leaders in 5:13 and the group in general in 1:3—the leaders are to be esteemed for their work (5:13) in a community

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characterized by “work of faith” (1:3). We may conclude that Paul’s effort to cultivate respect for leaders is strengthened by his portrayal of the leaders as people who embody the values of the community (cf. Paul’s use of kopos to describe his own ministry among the Thessalonians in 2:9). The exhortation to respect leaders is followed in 5:14–22 by a series of fourteen imperatives which communicate ethical norms that define key practices of the community (e.g., encourage, help, be patient, abstain from evil, and give thanks). It is noteworthy that Paul expands his instruction beyond the boundaries of the group. He tells them to do good to other group members, but he also instructs them to do good toward outsiders (“to all” in 5:15). The persecution experienced by the recipients has been a constant theme throughout the commentary. Paul insists that they not exacerbate the situation by taking an antagonistic posture toward outsiders. Instead, by doing good, perhaps they will reduce the existing conflict and improve their relations with outsiders. The importance of holiness is underlined with the benediction in 5:23. Group members are reminded that God is the agent of their sanctification. They are also reminded that holiness should characterize the whole of their lives. God is the agent who sanctifies them in every way. Thus, the letter ends by highlighting a key component of their present identity, namely their holiness. This is placed alongside a reminder of their future identity as people awaiting the parousia. Paul’s hope is that they will be “sound and blameless” at that time. All of this depends on the faithful God who is again portrayed as effecting the transformation: “he will do this” (5:24). Paul then asks the recipients to pray for him (5:25) and gives instruction for continued use of the letter. It is unclear who Paul means by adelphoi in 5:26. Whoever they are, he did not expect them to be present at the first reading of the letter, and so he instructed it be read again to them. He could be instructing those who first handled the letter to read it aloud in a gathering of the whole congregation (Esler, “1 Thessalonians,” 1211). The letter ends with another benediction that Paul used with similar form in other letters (cf. 1 Cor 16:23; 2 Cor 13:13; Gal 6:18; Phil 4:23).

References Ascough, Richard S. “A Question of Death: Paul’s Community-Building Language in 1 Thessalonians 4:13–18.” JBL 123 (2004): 509–30. Barclay, John M. G. “Conflict in Thessalonica.” CBQ 55 (1993): 512–30. Barclay, John M. G. Pauline Churches and Diaspora Jews. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016. Cho, Kwang-hyun, Ernest van Eck, and Cas Wepener. “Paul’s Community Formation in 1 Thessalonians: The Creation of Symbolic Boundaries.” HTS Teologiese Studies/Theological Studies 71 (2015): Art. #2804, 7 pages. https://doi.org/10.4102/hts.v71i1.2804. Cinnirella, Marco. “Exploring Temporal Aspects of Social Identity: The Concept of Possible Social Identities.” European Journal of Social Psychology 28 (1998): 227–48. Esler, Philip F. “‘Keeping it in the Family’: Culture, Kinship and Identity in 1 Thessalonians and Galatians.” Pages 183–97 in Families and Family Relations as Represented in Early Judaisms and Early Christianities: Texts and Fictions. Edited by Jan Willem van Henten and Athalya Brenner. Studies in Theology and Religion. London: Routledge, 2000. Esler, Philip F. “1  Thessalonians.” Pages 1199–212 in The Oxford Bible Commentary. Edited by John Barton and John Muddiman. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.

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Fee, Gordon D. The First and Second Letters to the Thessalonians. NICNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009. Gupta, Nijay K., 1—2 Thessalonians. NCCS. Eugene: Cascade, 2016. Gupta, Nijay K. “The Thessalonian Believers, Formerly ‘Pagans’ or ‘God-Fearers’?: Challenging a Stubborn Consensus.” Neotestamentica 52 (2018): 91–113. Haslam, S. Alexander, and Michael J. Platow. “Your Wish Is Our Command: The Role of Shared Social Identity in Translating a Leader’s Vision into Followers’ Action.” Pages 213–28 in Social Identity Processes in Organizational Contexts. Edited by Michael A. Hogg and Deborah J. Terry. Philadelphia: Psychology, 2002. Hogg, Michael A. “Social Identification, Group Prototypicality, and Emergent Leadership.” Pages 197–212 in Social Identity Processes in Organizational Contexts. Edited by M. A. Hogg and D. J. Terry. Philadelphia: Psychology, 2002. Hogg, Michael A., and Dominic Abrams, Social Identifications: A Social Psychology of Intergroup Relations and Group Processes. London: Routledge, 1988. Jewett, R. “Tenement Church and Communal Meals in the Early Church: The Implications of a FormCritical Analysis of 2 Thessalonians 3:10.” BR 38 (1993): 38–42. Lamont, Michéle, and Virág Molnár. “The Study of Boundaries in the Social Sciences.” Annual Review of Sociology 28 (2002): 167–95. Witherington, Ben, 1 and 2 Thessalonians: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006.

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2 Thessalonians Matthew P. O’Reilly

Introduction The chief critical issue in 2 Thessalonians is the question of authenticity. Did Paul write this letter? Or is it a later forgery written in his name? The way that question is answered shapes the way the letter is interpreted. Arguments against authenticity often focus on four points. First, 2 Thessalonians bears a close literary resemblance to 1 Thessalonians (Esler, 1213). The topics in each letter are dealt with in the same order, and the striking grammatical similarities appear artificial to many readers (Donfried, 52). Second, despite those literary similarities, the two letters exhibit different attitudes toward the future. Specifically, the Day of the Lord is portrayed as an imminent event in 1 Thess 4:13–5:11, while 2 Thess 2:1–12 indicates that day will be preceded by other events (Donfried, 52–53). The burden is on proponents of authenticity to provide a plausible scenario for this apparent contradiction. Third is the lack of personal references by the author of 2 Thessalonians (Donfried, 51). Fourth is the rather cold and detached tone of the letter (Esler, 1213).

Arguments for Authenticity A detailed analysis of the arguments against authenticity is beyond the scope of this commentary. A few points are worth noting, though. First, while there is thematic similarity between these letters, this is not the same as direct literary dependence. Further, the similarities are sometimes taken as evidence for common authorship (Witherington, 12), which suggests the way the data is interpreted depends very much on the presuppositions of the interpreter. As a preaching pastor, I find myself using word-for-word phrases and slogans during certain seasons of ministry and other such phrases and slogans in other seasons. Those similarities exist precisely because of their common source. The question of conflicting eschatological expectations can be plausibly explained and will be dealt with below. The matters of a more authoritarian tone and fewer personal references are not evidence of inauthenticity. Surely Paul could have altered his tone at any time. And was he not free to include as many or as few references to himself as he pleased? Indeed, if the situation has escalated because some were circulating false information with regard to the Day of the Lord, we might expect a terser, more hurried, and somewhat less personal correspondence.

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Situation The most important factor in the question of authenticity is that of the second letter’s Sitz im Leben. A number of proposals have been made by advocates of pseudonymity, though none of them have achieved consensus (see the survey and analysis in Still, 55–58). Alternatively, a thoroughly plausible and simple situation has been proposed that explains how the two letters, both from Paul, can exhibit what appear to be conflicting understandings of the future. Still suggests that shortly after sending 1 Thessalonians, Paul learned that the recipients continued to face antagonism (2 Thess 1:4–9) and some of them had come to think that Day of the Lord had indeed arrived (2:2; Still, 59). Barclay notes that they may have interpreted some disastrous local or regional event as an inauguration of the divine wrath and evidence of the “sudden destruction” mentioned in 1 Thess 5:3 (528). Expecting the imminent eschatological moment, some of them stopped working to wait for the parousia, a behavior characteristic of millenarian movements (Jewett, 173). As a result, Paul wrote 2 Thessalonians to correct their misappropriation of the first letter by pointing out that certain events would precede the Day of the Lord (2 Thess 2:3–12). The differences between the two letters with regard to eschatology are, therefore, best understood “as successive responses by a pastor to stages in a community’s panic, rather than the eschatological formulations of two different individuals” (Johnson, 288). Taking this reconstruction as the situation behind the composition and delivery of 2 Thessalonians and taking Paul to be the author, the introductory remarks in the previous chapter of this volume serve also to introduce the social dynamics of the present letter. Given the new information Paul introduces with regard to the future, we will continue to be attentive to temporal dynamics of identity formation and the way group identity frames the behavioral expectations Paul will articulate.

Commentary Shared Identity of Recipients (1:1–2) This letter opens like others in the ancient Greco-Roman world with the names of the senders followed by those of the addressees and a greeting. As with 1 Thessalonians, Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy are named as authors, which suggests a short interval in between the composition of the two letters, since these men are still with Paul (Witherington, 183). Paul is the lead writer as the emphasis on his personal signature in 3:17 makes clear. The named recipients comprise the ekklēsia of the Thessalonians. The recipients would have likely understood this language in light of the various associations in the Greco-Roman world. In a way analogous to those associations, the group descriptor employed by Paul introduces a sense of shared identity and implies a distinction from those who are not members of the group. This is particularly the case since Paul introduces them not as a group in a place but as a group of people (Witherington, 183). Moreover, they are a people formed by virtue of their belonging to God the Father and Jesus Christ their Lord. Paul’s greeting uses the conventional ancient form, though he adds the distinctly Christian elements “from God our father and the Lord Jesus Christ” (1:2). Their shared 436

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identity is reinforced by its divine origins and strengthened by the notion of kinship expressed in fatherhood language. We should keep in mind that language is key to social influence, and the social markers in this opening frame and anticipate the expectations Paul will set forth as the letter proceeds (Hogg and Abrams, 187, 194–96).

Thanksgiving and Social Affirmation (1:3–12) (1:3–4) Suffering and Identity We learn in 1:3–4 that the Thessalonians continue to experience persecution at the hands of their neighbors. Paul is thankful to God, not only because their faith continues, but also because it is growing. A situation marked by opposition from outsiders has potential to fracture a community and lead to deteriorating relationships within a group. The Thessalonians, however, have increasing love for one another. This suggests that their shared identity is not only being maintained; it is being strengthened. The mention of persecution here at the beginning of the letter highlights the deep contrast between insiders and outsiders. And Paul’s description of his gratitude and their plight may have evoked a range of emotions. The hostility they experienced undoubtedly led to negative emotions like sadness, fear, and anger. But the knowledge that the Apostle Paul boasts about them to other churches because of their perseverance in affliction would likely evoke positive emotions, which would then reinforce and perhaps amplify the positive value of the group identity. As in 1 Thess 3:6, Paul here mentions their faith and love but not their hope. This may be because some of them have misappropriated Paul’s teaching about the future, and a significant space in this letter will focus on correcting that. They are still confused about the future, even if the problem is different this time around. In 1 Thessalonians, they were not expecting the parousia and its attendant events. We will soon see that the problem in 2 Thessalonians is that they have gone too far in the other direction by saying the Day of the Lord has already come. (1:5–12) Judgment and Identity Verse 5 reframes their suffering in a way that resonates with their overall identity as God’s people. It would be easy for the suffering believers to doubt their status as God’s people, as Paul described them in 1:1 (cf. 1 Thess 1:1, 4). They may begin to question whether their suffering might be a form of divine punishment. Their hostile neighbors may have even made that sort of suggestion (Gupta, 123). Paul suggests that their experience stands as evidence (endeigma) of God’s righteous judgment. The question is: what counts as evidence? Is Paul saying their suffering is evidence of God’s righteous judgment? Or does he mean their perseverance? Scholars who take the first view point to Jewish sources that portray the sufferings of the faithful as God’s way of chastening them for their sin in preparation for the age to come (Menken, 85–87; see, for example, Ps 13:10–11). The problem with this view is the overwhelming affirmation Paul gives with regard to their community life (Esler, 1215). They expect to be vindicated at the parousia because of their faithfulness in suffering, not because their suffering is a form of divine punishment. Alternatively, Paul may mean that their perseverance is the evidence, though it’s difficult to see how their behavior is evidence of God’s judgment (Gupta, 124). Gupta suggests that Paul has the more positive or neutral sense of judgment (krisis) in mind. While their hostile counterparts might have seen the Thessalonians’ suffering as

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evidence of negative divine judgment, Paul sees it as evidence that God has judged them worthy to represent the kingdom of God. Their sufferings do not reflect God’s negative evaluation; to the contrary, they are evidence of God’s confidence that the Thessalonians will ultimately be found faithful (Gupta, 124–25). The point to be made for the purposes of this commentary is that Paul reframes their suffering so that it does not undermine their identity as God’s people (Cinnirella, 235). Instead, their suffering stands in continuity with their place in God’s overall purposes. From an SIT perspective, the apostle is engaging in social creativity by focusing group identity on what would normally be an undesirable aspect of their shared life. Paul has framed suffering positively in contrast to the outgroup. I argued in this volume’s commentary on 1 Thessalonians that Paul defines the community in relation to the coming Day of the Lord. The recipients’ anticipated salvation at the parousia marks them out against the prospect of wrath that awaits outsiders. Since Paul’s view of the future defines the social group, it can be described as a future possible social identity, a concept developed by Marco Cinnirella that refers to a person’s vision of their future group memberships. That futureoriented identity is further developed in 2 Thess 1:6–12. Paul appeals to God’s justice as the basis for his claim that the Thessalonians’ antagonists will experience eschatological affliction. In contrast, the afflicted Thessalonians will experience relief when Jesus is revealed. By depicting ingroup and outgroup with contrasting destinies—one favorable and one not—Paul strengthens the boundary he’s already drawn around the ingroup. They are God’s people. That means they have a shared destiny to look forward to. The contrasting destinies deepen the cognitive distance between ingroup members and outsiders. That distance is amplified by Paul’s vivid description of the negative judgment awaiting outsiders. Notably, where Paul offered very little in the way of detail in 1 Thessalonians about the “coming wrath,” 2 Thessalonians provides more information regarding the apostle’s expectations of negative judgment for outsiders (Foster, 70–71). Jesus himself is portrayed as “inflicting vengeance on those who do not know God” (1:8). Consider the contrast between the group defined by their lack of knowledge of God here and the earlier description of the recipients as “in God” (en theō) in 1:1. Outsiders will “suffer” a “punishment” described as “eternal destruction” (olethron aiōnion) and separation from the Lord’s presence and glory. There is some debate over whether Paul is thinking of eternal torment or final annihilation (see the excursus in Gupta, 125–26). The point for those concerned with questions of identity is the intense portrayal of the negative destiny for outgroupers. This would discourage the Thessalonians from entertaining the temptation to go back to their earlier lives of status quo Roman piety and peace with their neighbors. Their afflictions are temporary and will end at the parousia, if not before; alternatively, the eschatological sufferings of their antagonists will far exceed that of their present experience. Since people tend to behave in ways that help them attain positively valued future memberships and avoid negatively valued memberships, we can see how Paul’s description of the future carries strong potential to maintain the group in the present. Further, the certainty of what is anticipated is grounded in the very justice of God, which again reinforces for the recipients the reliability of Paul’s account. If the outgroup destiny is vividly negative, the ingroup destiny is deeply desirable. Believers will enjoy the presence of the Lord at his coming. Paul’s double use of “glory” and “glorified” here associates the chief Roman value, not with the destiny of the larger Roman world, but with the destiny of the persecuted Thessalonians. Paul will later point out that the recipients are to 438

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be instruments of Jesus’s glory and will participate in it (1:12). Paul’s thinking here reflects the Greco-Roman principle of reciprocity in which a client honors a patron and then receives a share in that patron’s honor. He introduces a new identity descriptor—“holy ones”—which occurs only here in this letter despite the fact that holiness is major theme in 1 Thessalonians. The term “holy” (hagios) highlights the unique identity of the community of believers in their relation to the Lord and reinforces the special nature of the ingroup. The section rounds out with a prayer intended to encourage the recipients to remain faithful and behave in a way that accords with their hope for rescue and vindication. While they may feel lonely and isolated in their affliction, they are reminded that their apostle is praying for them and that God himself is the agent enabling their resolve and faith.

The Parousia and Future Social Identity (2:1–12) With the opening verses of ch. 2, Paul comes to his chief reason for writing. Despite the translation in the NIV and NRSV, the section begins “We beg you” (erōtōmen), which highlights the urgency of the request. Paul’s request concerns the parousia and the gathering of believers to Christ, and his purpose, indicated by the eis to plus infinitive construction, is that the recipients not be “quickly shaken in mind or alarmed” by the news that the parousia has already happened. Paul appears to have received news that such reports were circulating. He mentions a letter that claimed to be from him and his team. This is noteworthy because it highlights the fact that at least one forged letter was circulating in Paul’s name. If 2 Thessalonians is itself pseudonymous, then it’s all the more striking for the unknown author to be discounting a letter purporting to be from Paul in just such a letter. No, the far more likely scenario is that we have Paul writing 2 Thessalonians to correct the false teaching that was spreading in his name. The urgency of Paul’s tone is brought into focus by our social identity approach. If the future possible identity of the recipients is defined by the Day of the Lord, then it should be clear why a teaching that the day has already come is so troubling. This is not just a matter of correcting false doctrine; it is a matter of correcting a teaching that runs the risk of undermining ingroup identity. And, as a result, this problematic teaching could open the way for behavior that is incommensurate with the future identity as Paul has defined it. Throughout the Thessalonian correspondence, Paul’s efforts at bolstering the recipients’ shared identity have been pronounced. In this way, the letter functions to strengthen them for faithfulness in perseverance to the end. If that identity is shaken, it makes the community all the more vulnerable. The onus is on Paul to reassert the future identity and so reestablish the basis of the community’s faithful perseverance (Cinnirella, 240). It’s difficult to say what the Thessalonians may have meant by “the Day of the Lord is already here” (2:2). Surely a world-altering apocalyptic event like the parousia, as described by Paul in 1 Thess 4:16–17, would not be something you hear about in a letter. Barclay surveys a number of options (“Conflict,” 526): first, they could have thought it a literal and miraculous event, though this approach has not gained support; second, they could have thought it an internal and personal spiritual experience, a view that has been adopted by some; third is the view that they meant the Day of the Lord was imminent, but that view has been rejected on grammatical grounds. Barclay takes a fourth view suggesting that the Thessalonians, having read Paul’s first

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letter, could have made a distinction between the parousia (4:13–18) and the Day of the Lord (5:1–11), understanding the latter as the quick destruction of unbelievers. This is not a distinction Paul intended. Nevertheless, the perceived distinction may have led some recipients to begin looking for signs of the destruction which indicated the Day of the Lord. Barclay concludes that almost any sort of unusual event could spark an apocalyptically minded imagination into thinking the key eschatological moment was at hand (527). Fifth, Menken points to the prediction of false Christs in Mark 13 to argue that the recipients thought Christ has already returned to earth and was going about his work (100–1). I agree with those who see no evidence for this in 2 Thessalonians. Something akin to Barclay’s view seems most likely. Even without positing the recipients’ misinterpretation of Paul’s first letter to them, it’s possible to imagine this weary and afflicted group of folks looking for the end and interpreting some local and unusual event as the inauguration of the judgment of God against their enemies. Paul substantiates the futurity of the parousia by outlining a group of events that he expects to take place beforehand. He describes “the rebellion” (hē apostasia), through which is revealed “the man of lawlessness” (ho anthrōpos tēs anomias). Paul also calls this figure “the son of destruction” (ho huios tēs apōleias), which could be taken as an objective genitive meaning “the man doomed to destruction” (NIV; cf. NRSV) or a subjective genitive meaning “the one who brings destruction” (NLT). Paul expects this person to set himself over other objects of worship, even going so far as to seat himself in “the temple of God” and declare himself to be God. Some scholars take the lawless one to be the antichrist (see, for example, Beale, 206–13), though caution is warranted. Such a move forces Johannine language into a Pauline text (Foster, 74), and Paul’s description of the lawless one is not exactly the same as John’s description of the antichrists. To make the point, 1 John 2:18 speaks of antichrists in the plural, while Paul’s man of lawlessness is a single individual (cf. 1 John 2:22, 4:3; 2 John 1:7). Paul does not seem interested in offering a precise identity of this man of lawlessness. His language is cryptic and opaque. Foster suggests that the opacity of this passage-as-a-whole should be seen as evidence of the letter’s authenticity (74). If it were a forgery, we might expect things to be worked out with greater clarity and more detail. As it stands, the density of this text makes most sense as coming from a hurried and anxious Paul intent on reminding his recipients of things he’d already said with a view to correcting their error. Paul develops his case that these things remain in the future by arguing that some force is restraining (to katechon in v. 6; ho katechōn in v. 7) the revelation of the lawless one. Whether that restraining force is a person or something else is unclear. Beale (2003, 214–15) lists no less than seven possibilities for the meaning of ho katechōn: (1) the Roman Empire/emperor, (2) civil and political order, (3) the Jewish state, (4) Satan or another demonic power, (5) false teachers, (6) God, or (7) the proclamation of the gospel. Space precludes a detailed analysis of each option. Once again, caution is in order in any attempt to precisely identify this figure. Paul does not spell it out for us, and the move from the neuter accusative (to katechon), which seems to indicate some thing, to the masculine nominative ho katechōn which seems to indicates some one, only clouds the issue. Whatever or whoever the identity of this restrainer, it will eventually be removed and the lawless one will be revealed, only then to be destroyed by Jesus at the parousia. Even with the many unresolved questions regarding the identities of these eschatological figures, we can still make some observations regarding the identity-forming function of this passage and Paul’s pastoral purposes. Paul is motivated to share this information—or perhaps 440

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remind them of it (2:5)—because he does not want them to be deceived about the future. This should not surprise us, since so much of the group identity is defined in relation to the future event of the Day of the Lord. If the recipients are misled into thinking that day had come, then the salience of their future-oriented identity is in jeopardy. But new information influences identity formation (Cinnirella, 240). By asserting this additional information about the circumstances leading up to the Day of the Lord, Paul reestablishes a sense of shared identity. They have this new unique knowledge because they are part of this particular group. Insider information strengthens trust and creates cognitive distance between them and the unenlightened outsiders (Haslam and Platow, 218). Pastorally speaking, the new information is also intended to calm them and restore a sense of peace in the midst of perceived eschatological upheaval. Paul is working to restore their confidence in the futurity of the parousia as the event which defines their shared identity and frames their behavior. As a result, that renewed sense of identity carries potential to strengthen their resolve to stand firm to the end.

Shared Identity as Basis for Standing Firm (2:13–17) Paul moves abruptly in 2:13 to an expression of thanksgiving to God for the Thessalonian recipients. The material contains several identity descriptors. They are the Lord’s beloved, which implies a distinction from those just mentioned in 2:12 who will be condemned. They are chosen by God. For Paul, the language of election emerges from the history of the Israelite people and was a way of distinguishing them as a special people apart from the nations (cf. Exod 19:1–6). By applying that language to Gentile converts in Thessalonica, Paul incorporates them into that favored relationship to God. Their election is “for salvation through sanctification,” which again sets them apart from outsiders bound for wrath. Sanctification, in particular, indicates distance from the idolatry and immorality that marks the outgroup (Esler, 1217). The Spirit is the agent of their sanctification which proceeds as they believe in the truth. As above, their commitment to truth as a certain and distinct body of beliefs reinforces their common identity because they share knowledge and commitments that are not held outside the boundaries of their community. As Esler notes, each of these descriptors delineates their identity by answering the key question: Who are we? (1217). That shared identity then serves as the basis for the exhortation to “stand firm and hold fast” to what they were taught, not least regarding the futurity of the Day of the Lord. We have observed that people tend to behave in a way that aligns with their identity. Paul expects them now to remain firm in the faith until the Day of the Lord. He punctuates that exhortation with a prayer of encouragement, reminding them again of God’s love for them, and the power of God to strengthen them and enable them to do what Paul is calling them to do.

Paul’s Request for Prayer (3:1–5) Chapter 3 opens with Paul inviting the recipients to pray that the word of the Lord will continue to spread and be glorified. Additionally, he would have them pray that he be rescued from evil and faithless people. By inviting them to pray for him, Paul invests their community with value

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and highlights their importance to his larger mission. This has potential to invest their shared identity with additional positive emotional value. It also has potential to influence them to look favorably on Paul’s teaching in the letter. He is not simply out to instruct them; he wants them to be contributing partners who pray for his ministry. Paul further amplifies the positive emotional value they place on their relationship with him by articulating his confidence that they will conform to the norms he has set forth.

Idle Behavior as Threat to Community (3:6–12) Paul now turns to another matter that needs to be corrected. He wants the recipients to avoid a group described as ataktōs—that is, idle or unruly people. The word is used again in 3:11 where Paul describes them as busybodies who’ve stopped working. The ataktoi, as they are sometimes called, are sometimes taken to be people who have given up working because of their belief that the Day of the Lord has come. Such behavior is common among millenarian movements when the eschatological moment is thought to be imminent (Esler, 1218). Barclay argues alternatively that they are people who have stopped working to preach the gospel (522). He notes that when a person’s faith is attacked by unbelievers, they often respond by reasserting that faith more forcefully toward outsiders. On Barclay’s view, Paul is concerned with people acting disgracefully toward unbelievers, which has potential to aggravate the difficulties the community is facing. Whatever the case, Paul wants this behavior to stop and holds himself and his apostolic band up as models of appropriate behavior. They were not idle during their time in Thessalonica; instead, they paid for their food and worked night and day. The call to imitation is common enough in Paul’s letters (see 1 Cor 4:16; 11:1; Phil 3:17; 1 Thess 1:6). In this instance, Paul portrays himself as a particularly worthy model because, though he had the right to expect support from the church, he did not exercise it. He lived by the principle he taught: “Anyone unwilling to work should not eat” (3:10). In naming the principle, he clarifies the central problem. Some of them were living off others instead of supporting themselves. Verse 11 makes the point through wordplay: some of them are “busybodies” (periergazomenous) rather than being busy at work (ergazomenous). In effect, Paul portrays them as deviants who threaten the strength of the community. The extended attention suggests the problem is quite serious (Gupta, 147), and the apostle expects the community to put pressure on these idle ones, whether by shunning them (“keep away,” 3:6) or by instructing them to work (3:12). In 3:14, he goes so far as to instruct the recipients to have nothing to do with the atakoi. He does regard them as believers (3:6, 15) and the exhortation in 3:12 indicates Paul’s goal is to bring them back into conformity with group norms, not to break from them permanently (Hogg and Abrams, 158-160). He wants to see them do what is right.

Closing Benediction (3:16–17) The letter concludes with a benediction expressing Paul’s desire that “the Lord of peace” fill the community with peace. Paul undoubtedly has in mind their conflict with outsiders. He may

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also be thinking of any potential conflict within the community when they confront their idle counterparts. Paul follows the benediction with his personal mark or signature. Advocates of pseudonymity view this with suspicion. The self-conscious way the author draws attention to this mark is interpreted as a forger trying too hard to appear authentic (Esler, 1219). The point should be made, however, that this is not actually evidence for pseudonymity. It is data that is construed in different ways based on the presupposition of the interpreter. In fact, proponents of authenticity take it the other way. If Paul wrote the letter, as I have argued, then it is simply his signature, regardless of whether it seems strange to present-day readers.

References Barclay, John M. G. “Conflict in Thessalonica.” CBQ 55 (1993): 512–30. Beale, Gregory K. 1–2 Thessalonians. IVPNTC. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2003. Cinnirella, Marco. “Exploring Temporal Aspects of Social Identity: The Concept of Possible Social Identities.” European Journal of Social Psychology 28 (1998): 227–48. Donfried, Karl P. Paul, Thessalonica, and Early Christianity. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002. Esler, Philip F. “2  Thessalonians.” Pages 1213–20 in The Oxford Bible Commentary. Edited by John Barton and John Muddiman. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001. Foster, Paul. “The Eschatology of the Thessalonian Correspondence: An Exercise in Pastoral Pedagogy and Constructive Theology.” JSPL 1 (2011): 57–82. Gupta, Nijay K. 1–2 Thessalonians. NCCS. Eugene: Cascade, 2016. Haslam, S. Alexander, and Michael J. Platow. “Your Wish Is Our Command: The Role of Shared Social Identity in Translating a Leader’s Vision into Followers’ Action.” Pages 213–28 in Social Identity Processes in Organizational Contexts. Edited by Michael A. Hogg and Deborah J. Terry. Philadelphia: Psychology, 2002. Hogg, Michael A., and Dominic Abrams, Social Identifications: A Social Psychology of Intergroup Relations and Group Processes. London: Routledge, 1988. Jewett, Robert. The Thessalonian Correspondence: Pauline Rhetoric and Millenarian Piety. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986. Johnson, Luke T. The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation. rev. ed. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1999. Menken, Maarten J. J. 2 Thessalonians. NTR. New York: Routledge, 1994. Still, Todd D. Conflict in Thessalonica: A Pauline Church and Its Neighbors. JSNTSupp 183. Sheffield: Sheffield, 1999. Witherington, Ben. 1 and 2 Thessalonians: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006.

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Chapter  16

1 Timothy Christopher A. Porter

Introduction The Pastoral Epistles are an oft-disputed set of letters, with varying contentions proposed for their provenance, and authorial context. Perhaps the greatest question for the Pastorals comes in the context of authorship, especially as it intersects with questions of chronology and theology.

Authorship and Composition While the Pastoral Epistles are all explicitly ascribed to the Apostle Paul in text (1 Tim 1:1; 2 Tim 1:1; Titus 1:1) in scholarly circles their authorship is much contested. Indeed, this is further confounded by the strong overlap between the diverse theological themes in the uncontested Pauline Epistles, and their possible presentation in the Pastoral Epistles, and a secondary series of chronological complexities. However, many of these confounding factors will not be an issue for this commentary, as it will primarily focus on the internal social construction within the epistle. At times we will make reference to interactions and confluence with possible identifications of social-categories—as they illuminate the discussion—but on the whole the social-category interaction plays a secondary role to the audience’s perception of these interactions. Therefore, from the internal evidence this letter will refer to the author as Paul, given the author’s strident emphasis on Pauline authorship. Indeed, for the audience of the epistles, the significant investment in setting forth the author of Paul the Apostle in the opening section of each letter serves as a powerful social categorization prime for a Pauline context. Even if this is not the historical case, within the context of the letter and its original audience, the socialcategory interaction that follows in each epistle will all be interpreted as if Paul is the author.

Audience The Pastoral Epistles are often so named due to their personal address to a specific church leader—Timothy and Titus—and the segments of each letter involving strong personal address. However, as many scholars have highlighted these letters contain several instances of plural address, indicating a higher likelihood of a corporate audience for these epistles. Furthermore,

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given the major intent of each letter as fostering leadership within the churches this form of corporate reading is an effective means of social identity and self-categorization promulgation, serving to reinforce the corporate engagement in the leadership and management process. To this end, this commentary will read each letter as a majority corporate mode of address.

Major Theological Themes While the Pastoral Epistles do make forays into specific theological and social themes, overall the major emphasis is on leadership promulgation and exhortation to prototypical in-group behavior. Inevitably this does involve some reflections on out-group characteristics, and intergroup interaction, but in this context these are secondary to the thrust of the letters. Rather the major topics taken up are the leadership of certain individuals—Timothy and Titus—in the context of the local church, and their own development of a contextual leadership structure local to that church. To this end the letters leverage prototypical behavior within the social category as a means of encouraging leadership promulgation.

Social Identity Approach As the primary theme of these letters is leadership development and promulgation within the social category, we have turned to the excellent research on the social identity psychology of leadership in Haslam, Reicher, and Platow. From this perspective we will primarily be looking at the aspects of prototypicality within the social category, and how these are represented within the epistle. An assessment of prototypicality is helpful for our investigation of the Pastoral Epistles, as it highlights methods of construing belonging and identification with the social group (Oakes, Haslam, and Turner). As with any social category that does not exist within a sectarian vacuum there is inevitably category interaction and often crosscutting category overlap. These crosscutting engagements highlight where members are included within two or more social categories, and the overlap between these categories brings further nuance to the interactions at hand (Doise and Deschamps). Indeed, in many points within the letters this category interaction and overlap is essential to provide contrast to the constructs with which the author engages. In that context discussions of stereotypicality and prototypicality become paramount, as there needs to be means of assessment for behavior in interaction. The work of Penelope Oakes et al. is invaluable for assessing these portions of the letter and will be presumed in the commentary section proper (Oakes, Haslam, and Turner). At times this assessment will also touch upon the work of Stephen Reicher and Fabio Sani as they sought to assess interand intragroup interaction through their definition of Structured Analysis of Group Arguments (SAGA, Reicher and Sani). However, these epistles are not solely addressed to an elite cadre of leaders—although Titus could be read that way. Rather they are addressed to a group which includes both leaders and followers, and the content of the Pastoral Epistles has strong engagement with both groups. Indeed, as Haslam et al. cogently write,

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Leaders only exert leadership to the extent that they recruit followers to their cause and recruit those followers’ energies to the promotion of that cause. Without the support and the sweat of followers, the words of leaders are nothing. But followers can do so much more than sweat and toil; they can also play a part in persuading their fellows to support any group project and to realize any leader’s vision. Leadership, in other words, is generally distributed. (Haslam, Reicher, and Platow, 199) These broader social groups are addressed cogently throughout each letter, and although the textual mechanics of the epistle are often directed toward the addressee, the broader sociocultural semantics highlight a collective audience. This is especially the case in 2 Timothy, where the leadership promulgation is in anticipation of Timothy’s departure from the immediate social group, and therefore the group requires reinforcement. Therefore, the approach to leadership development through the lens of social-category prototypicality and stereotypicality is exceedingly apt for these epistles. Finally, various aspects of these epistles engage with various temporal frames, and these temporal aspects will be highlighted through the lens of possible future social identities as theorized by Cinnirella. The lens of possible future social identities and other temporal aspects is an invaluable perspective to have on this form of epistle, which presumes change over time in prototypicality and social-category engagement.

Commentary Social Category Instantiation and Regulation (1:1–11) (1:1–2) Prescript The first letter to Timothy begins with a typical opening address for a Pauline epistle, as the author introduces themselves to the letter reader. However, this opening also ties into some aspects of the social categorizations engaged with throughout these epistles. This initially appears with the author’s identification as an “apostle of Christ Jesus” (apostolos Christou Iēsou; 1:1). This opening invokes the salience of the social category involved with the position of an apostle as in-group prototypes for the broader category Christ-follower. Furthermore, with this identification of the prototypical function of the “apostle” role the introduction places the author in a place of leadership within the in-group. Secondly, the legitimation for the authorial claiming of prototypical leadership function is predicated upon the authority of the dual in-group prototypes “God our savior” (theou sōtēros hēmōn; 1:1) and the in-group titular “Christou Iēsou.” This second predication is also accompanied with the specification of the in-group prototype as the source of a strong in-group identity marker. This authorial introduction is naturally followed by the intended addressee Timothy, here described through the in-group relational description of being a “genuine child in faith” (gnēsiō teknō en pistei; 1:2). This in-group prototypical description and subsequent relational claim sets up the leadership instantiation/transfer dynamic that is expanded upon throughout the epistle. While the introduction to Timothy may appear redundant—given the relationship evidenced in the body of the letter—the potential for public reading highlights the salience effect of this

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greeting for any gathered congregation. Thus, any following instructions to Timothy, and the broader community, will be interpreted within the salience of the superordinate group. (1:3–11) Exordium The author begins the exordium by reinforcing an earlier directive that had evidently been given to Timothy before his move into Asia Minor, that Timothy should “command certain people cease engaging in false teaching” (parangeilēs tisin mē heterodidaskalein; 1:3). This directive drives at a distinction between the actions of Timothy—as a prototypical leader of the in-group—and another category of people. While the social category defined by the “certain people” (tisin; 1:3) appears unclear to a modern audience—and indeed much ink has been spilled in identifying them—they are evidently identifiable to the epistolary audience. What may be easily determined is that this group is identified as holding to different doctrine (heterodidaskalein; 1:3) to that taught by Paul, and by implication from the earlier invocation of superordinate group salience, also the broader social category. By this instruction Paul provides a strong social-category differentiation between the addressed in-group and those in the outgroup who teach different doctrine. However, the command also presumes the possibility of reconciliation between the two groups, as the charge to Timothy regarding instructing the outgroup to cease teaching different doctrine implies a reincorporation of the out-group. By this mechanism there is also a possibility that this group of teachers represent a subgroup of the superordinate group, and implicitly at the same social status as the addressed group. Given this overlap of social categorization between the authorial in-group and the other teaching out-group, it is worth considering a little more of the identity of these teachers. Many scholars point toward this heterodidaskalein as a form of “Judaism with gnosticizing tendencies” (Mounce, 19), and indeed this coheres well with the presentation of the core elements of “law,” “myths,” and “knowledge.” However, other proposals push closer to a core of Jewish proselytizing that similarly coheres with the core elements that Paul addresses in this verse, and elsewhere (Feltham, “Marriage”). The proposal by Feltham addresses the broader list of elements, including the teaching on marriage (1 Tim 4:3) that this out-group holds as identity markers. If this proposal is taken to contribute to the social categorization of the teachers, then it draws attention to the closeness of the two social groups described in the epistle. As Feltham (“Marriage,” 2) observes, this would mean that the social category that the teachers represent are “people who are treated as ‘insiders’ to the church, and yet are nonetheless described as ‘spiritual outsiders.’” This closeness of category relations between the audience and the “agitators” goes some way to explaining the lack of clarity of the out-group description. Furthermore, this also emphasizes the likely overlap between the two groups, and therefore the sharp division over identity markers close to both groups. It is in this close social context that the following discussion of myths and genealogies (mythois kai genealogiais; 1:4), and the law (ho nomos; 1:8) must be read. Within the exordium this clarity of social-category closeness highlights the discussion of the law in 1:8–11, and the seemingly ambivalent relationship that Paul presents to the law in this context. Here the law is designated as “good” or “wise” (kalos; 1:8) for those of a group that “use it lawfully” (nomimōs chrētai; 1:8). But, in the following verse this group is clarified as not those of the group “righteous” (dikaiō; 1:9), but rather a raft of out-groups described in the following verses. This litany of out-groups is placed in antithetical construct to the described in-group and concludes with a social-category catch-all “whatever else is contrary to sound doctrine” (ei ti heteron tē hygiainousē didaskalia antikeitai; 1:10). While some commentators see this approach to the law in this passage as an 448

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unlikely intergroup identity shibboleth—given Paul’s reverence for the law in other places— much of this is defused from a social-category perspective. In this context the closeness of the social categories of the in-group and the antagonists parallel the in-group being described as righteous in 1:9. Whereas the description of the law for the out-groups are—as Kelly puts it—“to some extent conditioned by the position of the errorists, who are apparently singling out and twisting O.T. precepts in accordance with their arbitrary ideas” (Kelly, 49).

Social Category Prototypicality (1:12–14) With this description of the errorists in mind, Paul then highlights his own parallels with this social category, and critically highlights his own change in social category through this process. In contrast to the self-description in v. 13—of Paul as a blasphemer, persecutor, and violent—he is now considered one “appointed to his service” (themenos eis diakonian; 1:12). As is emphasized in the bookending verses (12, 14) this shift in social category is not due to a change in internal self-categorizations. But rather the source of the category change is found in Christ Jesus (1:12, 14), the in-group prototype. Through the location of the transition in the in-group prototype, and the associated vocation of service (diakonian; 1:12), Paul is claiming a leadership position that is proximate to the in-group prototype, and therefore claims a high degree of in-group prototypicality. This is reinforced by the trust characteristic that the in-group prototype “considered [Paul] trustworthy” (hoti piston me hēgēsato; 1:12), further tying Paul’s identity within the sphere of prototypicality around the in-group prototype, and foreshadowing a link with the following saying.

Superordinate Group Definition (1:15–18) Indeed, it is with this prototypicality in mind that Paul sets to work on setting out a superordinate group working definition as a base for future in-group argument and instruction. With the introduction of this being a “trustworthy saying” (pistos ho logos; 1:15) it is likely that the following extrapolation of the in-group identity markers formed a relatively common in-group rubric, and likely known by many within the group. However, in this case the rubric narrative is highly contextualized to Paul and forms a declaration of self-categorization. In addition, with the strong arrangement in a narratival form—replete with past, present, and future—the contextualized rubric acts as a narrative identity construction mechanism (McAdams). As a narrative identity structure this contextualized rubric serves to reinforce Paul’s own identity—including this promulgation—as well as emphasizing his self-categorization as part of the in-group. This self-categorization also serves to tie Paul’s identity with that of the prototype, as Christ Jesus functions as the primary actor in the narrative. The first act is a declaration of the functional task of Christ: to save sinners (1:15). In this act Paul’s own contextualized parallel to the saying is given, as Paul self-declares as the foremost sinner. This parallel is given so that the first act may be tangibly demonstrated in the life of Paul: as mercy is shown to him. Similarly, the second act is the display of “complete patience” (1:16), which is displayed in Paul, as the foremost sinner. With the in-group prototype as the sole actor in these two acts, given as a rubric, Paul’s own prototypicality is highlighted. However, with

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the general nature of this rubric, and these mechanisms given—elsewhere—as the sole means for entry into the social category—Christ-follower—this prototypicality is similarly available to others within the group; as we will see anon. Finally, as the “trustworthy saying” is undoubtedly an in-group self-categorization mechanism, the ascription of the same saying to Paul imbues a sense of “us-ness” within the leadership structure. This is essential for an effective leadership structure, as Haslam et al. observe, “In other words, people are able to influence and lead others . . . because, and to the extent that, they are seen by those others to represent what it is that ‘we’ means and what it is that ‘we’ stand for” (Haslam et al., 107).

Group Leadership Establishment (1:18–20) Within this context of defining prototypicality for the group Paul then moves to one of the primary intents for the epistle, that of establishing a leadership structure to enable the effective functioning of the audience’s community. This is initially communicated through the reintroduction of Timothy utilizing the same familial referent from 1:2 “child” (teknon Timothee; 1:18). This introduction reinforces the relationship with Paul and his stated prototypicality from the previous pericope. Additionally, Paul extends this relationship by appealing to a shared schematic narrative, regarding the previous prophecies about him (proagousas epi se prophēteias; 1:18). These prophecies not only present an authorizing shared schematic narrative for Timothy but are also used to construct a possible future social identity that is projected forward, on the basis of the narrative shared by the members of the group—a shared schematic narrative (Rapley and Augoustinos). This possible future social identity is constructed as embracing and continuing as a prototypical group member, “having faith and good conscience” (echōn pistin kai agathēn syneidēsin; 1:19). This prototypicality is immediately contrasted with another group that is defined antithetically to the in-group. Initially this takes the form of “those who have rejected the faith” (hēn tines apōsamenoi peri tēn pistin; 1:19) but is further clarified by the identification of two prototypical out-group members: “Hymenaeus and Alexander” (Hymenaios kai Alexandros; 1:20). While the following phrase regarding these prototypes being “handed over to Satan” (paredōka tō satana; 1:20) has proved relatively mystifying to decipher, from a social-category perspective the engagement proves much clearer. This verse presents a statement from a closely prototypical group leader that serves to highlight the exclusion from the in-group of these two individuals— and by connection the broader social category of which they are prototypical. Despite this staunch “handing over,” there does appear to be some possibility for reintegration within the possible future social identity projection, as Paul gives the objective of this handing over as “teaching them not to blaspheme” (1:20). Thus, the possible future social identity presents some possibility of reconciliation, providing outcome of the teaching is met.

In-group Instructions (2:1–7) Following from the broad definition of prototypicality Paul then turns to a series of ethical markers for the in-group as a mechanism for normative fit within the in-group. Furthermore, these

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external externally observable normative markers for the in-group are described as a mechanism for assessing comparative fit from other out-groups. These actions of “supplications, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving” (2:1) mirror externally observable patterns of cultic activity in the ancient world. From the high parallels between the internal and external cultic activity these actions are secondarily available from other groups to assess comparative fit. The outcome of this comparative fit assessment is given as an external group appeal, as the broader members outside of the addressed group are implied to be able to observe the in-group. On this basis this is presumed to be a mechanism for in-group border porosity, as “all people . . . come to a knowledge of the truth” (2:4) and therefore are “saved” (sōthēnai; 2:4). Finally, this engagement is reinforced by an appeal to the superordinate group prototype, as Paul writes that it is “good, and pleasing to God” (2:3). Critically this reinforcement appeals to a superordinate group that—if the agitating out-group is indeed Christ-followers who wish to return to cultic Judaism—also provides an ascription of prototypicality for a broader superordinate group than just the addressees. Paul’s appeal to a broader superordinate group may also be seen in the following verses, with the saying in v. 5 appearing as a rewritten form of the Shema (Deut 6:4) (Feltham, “Carefully”). This form of the rewritten Shema is integrated into the previous verses through the in-group prototype— “Christ Jesus”—mentioned in v. 5. This engagement with the in-group prototype alongside the superordinate group prototype forms a strongly prototypical framework for the identity mediation and construction in the epistle. But this framework not only is constructed for the members of the notional superordinate group but also extends further afield to “all people” (hyper pantōn; 2:6). This is reflected in the subsequent appointing (etethēn; 2:7) as an identity promulgator.

In-group/Jewish Interactions (2:8–15) While the following section presents a swathe of significant exegetical issues, a social identity approach may help to elucidate some nuance in the interpretation of the text. First, the oun of 2:8 serves to link the following discussion to the previous exposition of in-group prototypicality, and thus the pericope presents both normative and comparative fit for the in-group. This is relatively easily observable—and uncontested—in 2:8–10, with the characteristics presented initially as normative for the in-group. However, these characteristics are also presented for generating comparative fit as both sets are explicitly compared (chōris; 2:8; mē; 2:9) with other characteristics. Within the text there is little indication of whether these comparative characteristics are actively embodied by members of any out-group, but within the frame of the in-group identity formation, the possibly hypothetical comparison still generates effective comparative fit. Second, this presentation of both normative and comparative fit characteristics as prototypical is reinforced in the second example, through the invocation of a shared schematic narrative involving Adam and Eve.

In-group Leadership Structures (3:1–13) In the context of in-group normative and comparative fit, a second “trustworthy saying” (3:1) is given for the members of the in-group. This saying introduces a series of structures for the group 451

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that present in-group prototypicality within the frame of effective leadership. The first series of prototypical characteristics related to the episkopos (3:1) present both normative and comparative characteristics. The initial list in v. 2 presents normative fit traits, those observable without contrast with an external group, while the second list in v. 3 presents a series of comparative fit traits—delineated by the use of mē and alla. The instructions in v. 4 serve to reinforce the normative fit characteristics for the prospective leader, as this is explicitly extrapolated to be applicable to the broader group in v. 5. As they are extrapolated to the broader group, these markers of in-group leadership provide a normative effect for the entire group, reinforcing the appointed episkopos as a prototypical member of the in-group—a feature critical for effective leadership. Furthermore, as noted in vv. 6 and 7, there is an inherent risk within the elevation to leadership within the group, if the leader does not embody the in-group identity. This is expressed in two forms: the first is expressed as a normative relationship to the group—not being a new convert (mē neophyton; 3:6)—and the second is expressed comparatively—to be thought well of by outsiders (martyrian kalēn echein apo tōn exōthen; 3:7). These two normative and comparative injunctions are reinforced by the shared schematic narrative, and the invocation of the antitype of the group—the devil (tou diabolou; 3:6, 7). This in-group leadership structure is also extrapolated out to another level of leadership within the group, that of the diakonos (Diakonous; 3:8). For this second group of leaders, the author bridges the two groups, and builds on the existing leadership structure and characteristics— utilizing the introductory phrase “likewise” (hōsautōs; 3:8). The characteristics in v. 8 present a mixture of normative and comparative fit, before the author expands on the required normative fit in vv. 9 and 10. Of special note here are the instructions to assess the normative fit of the prospective in-group leader, that first they must “grasp the mysteries of the faith” (echontas to mystērion tēs pisteōs; 3:9) and second this normative fit must be tested (dokimazesthōsan; 3:10). This assessment of the normative fit of a prospective leader emphasizes their prototypicality within the group and provides external visibility to this fit. Similarly, the dual aspects of normative and comparative fit are applied to women (Gynaikas; 3:11), presumably within the leadership structure. Then returning to the diakonos briefly, highlighting observable normative fit. Finally, this description of the normative and comparative fit markers are summarized in the assurance of prototypicality—“good standing” (bathmon . . . kalon; 3:13)—anchored within the group’s shared narrative—“confidence in their faith in Christ Jesus” (parrēsian en pistei tē en Christō Iēsou; 3:13). Thus, linking the normative and comparatively assessed prototypicality of the group leaders to the in-group prototype.

Mimetic Social-Category Norms (3:14–16) The assurance of in-group prototypicality for the group leaders is extended in the postscript to this section, through the extension of instructions for conduct to the broader social category. This is first predicated upon the desire for Paul to visit the audience, and thus present an instantiation of the in-group prototype. However, if this is not to be the case then the prototypicality derived from high active normative fit is extended to the broader category. This category is initially instantiated utilizing the familiar trope of the household of God (oikō theou; 3:15), before being further

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clarified as the “gathering of the living God” (ekklēsia theou zōntos; 3:15). This clarification also serves as a pivot to the following section focusing on comparative fit, through the saying that is embedded within 3:16. This saying appears to form a mimetic identity marker, emphasizing the normative fit embodied within the brief summary of the shared schematic narrative of the in-group prototype. The mimetic effect of this shared schematic narrative is evidently strong enough to not require the explicit naming of the prototype for normative effect.

Out-group Interactions (4:1–5) Springing from the shared mimetic saying, the author launches into an examination of the comparative fit that is generated by the prototype schematic narrative. Introducing the intergroup comparative fit through the ascription of action to “deceiving spirits and teaching of demons” (pneumasin planois kai didaskaliais daimoniōn; 4:1) presents the out-group of “those who depart the faith” (apostēsontai tines tēs pisteōs; 4:1) as a cosmological counterpart to the in-group and its relationship to the prototype from the shared schematic narrative. However, the comparative fit is further clarified here as originating in the temporally present domain as being communicated through “insincere liars” (hypokrisei pseudologōn; 4:2). This clarification increases the comparative fit for the in-group members through highlighting the temporal relationality of the out-group prototypes. Through this emphasis on the out-group prototypes—as out-group identity entrepreneurs and promulgators—there is focus on the comparative fit generated between the normative in-group leaders described in the previous chapter and these out-group leaders. The content of the out-group identity promulgation is also elaborated upon, allowing for comparative fit between the in-group normative markers and those of the represented outgroup. In this section the out-group identity markers are described as “forbidding marriage” and “abstaining from foods” (4:3). While these two markers are obscure and obtuse in the written context, given the expected identity construction generated by the comparative fit in this argument, the identification of markers must have been clear for the original audience, even if they are less than clear for us today.

In-group Leadership Normative Fit (4:6–10) As a result of the emphasis on whole group comparative fit, the author’s focus returns to the normative fit of leaders within the group. The communication of the comparative fit characteristics results in a better normative fit with the prototypicality derived from being a “good minister of Christ Jesus” (kalos . . . diakonos Christou Iēsou; 4:6)—the in-group prototype. Furthermore, this is reliant upon the future communication of the intergroup comparison, through the future indicative esē. Furthermore, as this epistle is designed for public reading the link between the instruction and prototypicality derived from teaching is formed into an externally observable feedback loop for the members of the in-group. Consequentially, this strengthens the leadership position of Timothy as the addressee, and his own normative fit within the group. This normative fit is reinforced by the dual ascription of “words of faith” (tois logois tēs pisteōs; 4:6) and the

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“good teaching which you have followed” (kalēs didaskalias hē parēkolouthēkas; 4:6). Notable here is the second ascription that links Timothy’s prototypicality to that of prior teaching— possibly from the author of the letter—broadening the appeal to a wider leadership base and thus increasing prototypicality within the broader group. Following the appeal to a wider in-group authority structure the following lines reinforce the in-group prototypicality through subsequent comparative fit. “Training in godliness” (Gymnaze . . . pros eusebeian; 4:7) is compared with “irreverent myths, and gossip” (bebēlous kai graōdeis mythous; 4:7), while physical training (sōmatikē gymnasia; 4:8) is subsequently compared with the “training in godliness” (4:7). These prototypical attributes are further extrapolated in the temporal frame forming a mobilization of social identity as not just a temporal present, but a projection of a future possible reality (Haslam et al., 162). Thus, the prototypical features “hold promise for the present life and the one to come” (4:8). This temporal aspect is reinforced by the following “trustworthy saying,” (4:9) highlighting the “hope in the living God, as the Savior of all people” (4:10) as the reason for the work of in-group leadership. Interestingly, this trustworthy saying parallels the earlier “mystery” of 3:16 in not explicitly naming the in-group prototype as the focus of the saying. Rather the saying focuses on a broader typicality, of simply “the living God” (theō zōnti; 4:10). By expanding the focus of prototypicality the author may be generating normative fit with an out-group that shares the same prototype. If this is the case, then the bookending of a section focusing on comparative fit with a shared normative appeal would indicate that the out-group described in 4:1–3 is likely to also be described with the in-group as subgroups of a shared superordinate group. While not conclusive this does lend support to Feltham’s proposal that the out-group in 1 Timothy represents Jewish Christ-followers returning to Judaism.

Intragroup Relations (4:11–16) As a product of the normative fit generated by the elaboration of prototypicality, the following instructions to Timothy serve to reinforce his own prototypicality within the in-group. The paired imperatives of 4:11 tie the prototypical characteristics of the previous exposition to the function of leadership within the in-group, and subsequently to Timothy’s own leadership. In this fashion, Timothy will be aligned with a prototypical leader, just as Paul—in instructing these things through the letter—is functioning in the same prototypical leadership role. Furthermore, as Timothy takes on this leadership role, the external actions embodied within “being an example” (typos ginou; 4:12) reinforce the appropriateness of his leadership in the in-group. This pushes against the implied “discrimination” against Timothy due to his age (4:12), but rather emphasizes his leadership as “one of us”—a prototypical in-group member. These prototypical external actions may be divided into two categories: those that are intended as prototypical for the whole of the in-group—those enumerated in 4:12—and those which are focused on in-group leadership functions—the list in 4:13. Finally, there is the enigmatic “gift” (charismatos; 4:14) that was bestowed upon Timothy, and appears to be unique to his person. However, all three categories of external actions are construed as prototypical for Timothy’s leadership of the in-group and are visible signs of his prototypical function therein (4:15). Furthermore, these are similarly

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highlighted for Timothy’s own internal prototypicality, as these characteristics are deemed critical for the in-group focus on “being saved” (4:16). In addition, this prototypicality is evidently externally observable—outside of the in-group—as those who hear Timothy will be saved by this—along with himself.

In-group Instructions (5:1–25) The following chapter shifts in focus toward in-group interaction and contains a list of instructions for stereotypical in-group behavior. The chapter opens with instructions for Timothy in his interaction with other members of the in-group—in an apparent continuation from the previous instructions for prototypicality. Of significant note in this section is the presence of a variety of externally crosscutting social categories that intersect with the in-group. After the familial metaphor offered by Paul in the first two verses, the focus of the passage shifts to a crosscutting category of “widow” (chēra; 5:3ff). From the archaeological findings this is a social category that was well recognized in ancient society—and undoubtedly in the broader community that Timothy is involved within. From the archaeological discovery of a coin struck with the inscription chēra it is evident that the social category of “widow” was externally recognizable, independent of other social categories. Further complicating the crosscutting social dynamics here is the secondary presentation of externally assessable age and family characteristics. The instructions to Timothy involve older and younger widows (5:9, 11), and/or those with children and/or other family (5:4). Within this context the instructions for in-group relations take on significant complexity. Herein the framework for relations with the social category of “widows” incorporates both temporal and prototypical characteristics. The criteria of “real widows” (ontōs chēra; 5:5)—a temporal characteristic—is paired with a series of prototypical characteristics: “hope,” “prayer,” and “entreatment” (5:5). This emphasizes the prototypicality that is part of being integrated with the in-group, and therefore the incorporation into the subgroup of “widows” within the group. The following verse contrasts this subgroup with those who are “living for pleasure” (5:6) and the implication of their separation from the in-group, and so too the described subgroup of “real widows” (ontōs chēra). Furthermore, the following instruction to Timothy enables the external assessment of in-group prototypicality within the chēra subgroup. However, this also functions as an internal reference process for group-member prototypicality; as the reasoning for the proliferation of instructions is given “so that they may be irreproachable” (5:7). As a result, those who are assessed as non-prototypical in this form of provision are deemed to not be part of the in-group, but further are considered “worse” than the out-group (apistou cheirōn; 5:8). This emphasizes the centrality of these prototypical characteristics for in-group membership. These prototypical characteristics are subsequently inverted to highlight group characteristics intrinsic to the addition of a widow to the “list of widows” (5:9). While this list of widows evidently incorporates a crosscutting element in the form of the existing social category of widows highlighted above, the qualifications for being “counted” appear to be a more restrictive set of conditions than the broader social dynamic. Notably all of these specific conditions are presented as externally assessable and demonstrated in interaction within the in-group. Of the

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list of characteristics, “raising children,” “showing hospitality,” “washing the feet of the holy,” “helping the oppressed,” and “following good works” all represent externally assessable interaction. Furthermore, at least two of these parallel other identity markers presented elsewhere as prototypical for the in-group. Hospitality and foot washing are both presented as prototypical in-group characteristics in the Johannine works (3 John and John 13 respectively). By contrast, a secondary—exclusion based—“list” of widows is created for those holding the category designation “younger” (neōteras). This contrasting “list” of younger widows is so delineated by similar externally assessable actions. Therefore, Paul delimits the list of widows to exclude those who are assessed as not behaving in a prototypical fashion for the in-group (5:11, 15). Rather, these widows are encouraged to remarry, such that they are not tempted to engage in non-prototypical in-group behavior, and therefore exclude themselves from the category of those “of Christ” (tou Christou; 5:11). To reinforce this a brief note is given in 5:15 of the opposing possible future social identity outcome, that some of these widows have gone “after Satan” (opisō tou satana; 5:15). Finally, Paul recognizes the efficacy of care involved within existing social categories— represented here by family units—and allows for this crosscutting category to continue outside of the “list of widows” mentioned earlier. Within the implied structure of category relations, the family unit here functions as a subgroup of the broader superordinate group—“the gathering” (hē ekklēsia; 5:11). This dual recognition of the subgroup and the superordinate group and the validity of the care for widows in each category assist in minimizing inter-subgroup bias between these nested social categories (Hornsey and Hogg). Subsequently Paul turns to another subgroup category, that of the “elders” or “presbyters” (proestōtes; 5:17). Subsumed within this category are evidently a range of other crosscutting rolebased categories including those of “preaching and teaching” (logō kai didaskalia; 5:17). For this category there are a series of positive and negative social-category assessments that are weighed against the individuals in the group. The first of these is related to support for the members of the group, when engaged in prototypical work for the in-group. This position is further reinforced by the appeal to a shared in-group narrative in the dual citations of Deut 25:4 and Lev 19:13 (1 Tim 5:18). This appeal serves to legitimate the in-group attitude to these in-group members. Second, there is a negative category assessment against those members of the subgroup that are presented as “sinning” (hamartanontas; 5:20). This negative category assessment is presented as requiring a corporate reinforcement for the aberrant in-group behavior (5:19), and a correspondingly corporate reproach (5:20) for those found to be sinning. This is summarized in the charge to Timothy, to keep to the prototypical leadership behavior given in the form of the instructions and mechanisms for engagement and reproof. Finally, this section of the epistle ends with a reflection on the means for visible assessment of group prototypicality (5:24–25). As Paul opines, some aberrant behavior for the group is easily externally assessable, while other behavior may not be easily categorized as aberrant at the time. Naturally the temporal aspect of prototypical group behavior assessment presents a challenge to the prior instructions regarding category membership and prototypicality. Therefore, both positive and negative prototypicality assessments are couched in a present and future format, which emphasizes the dual challenges in assessing prototypicality. However, the eventual resolution is that these constructions will eventually become externally evident.

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Haustafel and Social Groups (6:1–2) This reflection on the outcome of prototypicality assessment is followed by a brief interjection— almost an excursus—regarding the position of slaves in the ancient world. The material in this portion of the letter is greatly expanded upon elsewhere in the broader corpus, but here is presented in nuce. Here Paul presents those “under the yoke of slavery” (6:1) as members of a crosscutting group that intersects with the in-group. Similarly, those who are masters of slaves (6:2) are also addressed as members of a crosscutting group. In both cases members of these crosscutting groups are considered to be primarily members of the in-group with their crosscutting group membership of slave and master secondary to that of the in-group. The prioritization of in-group membership leads to a series of countercultural instructions given to these crosscutting group members. First, considering masters “worthy of full respect” (6:1), and then the masters as “devoted to the welfare of their slaves” (6:2). This crosscutting emphasis within the in-group is predicated upon the relationship of the in-group to the prototype, and subsequent external assessment “so that God’s name and our teaching may not be slandered” (6:1). Thus, the prototypicality of the in-group takes a higher priority than the stereotypical actions of the surrounding culture.

Legitimation of the Social Group (6:3–10) With this comparison of prototypical group actions in mind, Paul turns to a comparison between the prototypicality of the in-group and that of other groups. This is firstly predicated upon the crosscutting prototypicality insisted upon as a bridge from the previous pericope, as things to be “taught and exhorted” (didaske kai parakalei; 6:2). By contrast, a series of counterexamples are given to the in-group prototypicality, starting broadly—“anything otherwise” (heterodidaskalei; 6:3) as in the exordium—and then becoming more specific. This first category of heterodox teaching (heterodidaskalei) is directly contrasted with the instruction of the in-group prototype (6:3) that is construed as normative for the group, and secondarily with another category of “godly teaching” (eusebeian didaskalia; 6:3) for which no further information is given. However, the further extrapolation of the heterodox teaching serves to specify the out-group to the audience of the epistle, even if unidentifiable to modern analysis. Indeed, this out-group finds cogency with that of the similar group identifications in 2 Timothy and Titus. Nevertheless, given the prototypical actions of the out-group from this description the inference may be drawn that these actions are antithetical to the prototypicality of the in-group, and therefore, able to be used to discern deviance within the in-group (Abrams et al.). Paul then uses the final explanation of the out-group prototypicality as a pivot in contrast with in-group prototypicality: from “thinking piety is for profit” (nomizontōn porismon einai tēn eusebeian; 6:5) to the contrast of “piety and contentment is great profit” (Estin de porismos megas hē eusebeia meta autarkeias; 6:6). The implicit contrast of fiscal gain with “spiritual” gain is expanded upon in the following section, as a series of aphorisms are given to highlight the normative contra-cultural prototypicality of the in-group. Furthermore, the prototypical statements given in this section provide internal metaleptic reminders of the prototypicality

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defined for episkopos earlier in the letter (6:10 // 3:3). This is reinforced by the anecdotal example of those who have pursued the non-prototypical behavior, their exit from the in-group, and associated negative affect (6:10).

Final Exhortation to Prototypicality/Stereotypicality (6:11–16) This anecdote is then used to reinforce the prototypical behavior of Timothy as an in-group leader, and to further confer prototypical “credit” from Paul to Timothy. First, Timothy is called to “flee” (6:11) from the non-prototypical behavior, but rather to “pursue” (6:11) prototypical in-group behavior. This is exemplified in the following list of internal characteristics and group behavior in the following lines (6:11–12). This list of exemplary prototypical in-group behavior also serves as an assessable standard for Timothy’s prototypical leadership, as many of these actions are externally visible. Second, Paul reinforces the exhortation to prototypical behavior by linking it with three degrees of in-group prototypicality. At the base level Paul is exhorting Timothy (parangellō; 6:13), and as a prototypical in-group member and leader, this ties the “keep[ing] of the command” (tērēsai se tēn entolēn; 6:14) to Paul’s own leadership position within the group. At the next level this exhortation is based upon the “confession” (6:13) of Jesus—the in-group prototype—as remembered in the shared schematic narrative when “witnessing before Pontius Pilate” (6:13). This reinforces the command keeping within the prototypical actions of the pinnacle of in-group leadership. At the peak, Paul also appeals to the broader superordinate group prototype, the “life giving God” (6:13), as a metaleptic reinforcement of the category for the wider audience of this epistle. These three tiers strongly reinforce the command to Timothy and place it firmly within a pattern of prototypical leadership for the in-group. Furthermore, this command is not simply anchored within the present temporal context, but rather extended forward into a future context—effectively constructing a possible future social identity for Timothy’s leadership in the group (Cinnirella). To this end the exhortation is to keep the command “until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ” (6:14). This temporal extension of the command into the future reinforces the leadership identity formation that Paul is aiming for through the epistle. Similar to other aspects of identity formation in this epistle, the possible future social identity is prototypically anchored to the prototypical figures of Jesus and God. In this case the anchoring is effected through the use of a piece of doxological prose that likely served as an in-group identity rubric. The shared nature of such a doxology broadens the authoritative appeal for Paul and involves other members of the group within the assessment and reinforcement of Timothy’s leadership.

An Ethical Addendum (6:17–19) Just before the end of the epistle, Paul inserts a brief addendum regarding another crosscutting social category, those that are “rich in this age” (6:17). While in this context the command is given to those within in-group, it undoubtedly also serves as a command to those outside of the group, given the consequential instruction to “put their hope in God” (6:17) is applicable

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broadly. This category instruction provides a contrasting in-group social ethic for members of this crosscutting category: “Be rich in good deeds, generous and willing to share” (6:18). Similar to others in this epistle, this category instruction is reinforced by a possible future social identity, of those that “lay up treasure for themselves . . . for the future” (6:19).

Conclusion (6:20–21) Finally, Paul rounds out the epistle by reinforcing many of the main themes of the letter, and the prototypical leadership formation contained within. First, Timothy is exhorted to “guard what has been entrusted” (6:20) to him—an exhortation to prototypical action. Second, Timothy is instructed to “avoid” (6:20) non-prototypical behavior—in the form of “irreverent babble and contradictions” (6:20). This second instruction is linked with a negative possible future social identity in the form of some “departing from the faith” (6:21). Taken together these dual aspects of reinforced in-group prototypicality and exclusion of non-in-group prototypical behavior provide a strong exhortation to prototypical group leadership within the epistle. Further, the final words of the epistle highlight for modern interpreters the corporate nature of the epistle, addressed to “you all” (in the Southern American vernacular). This form of corporate address combined with specific leadership instructions to Timothy leverages the in-group stereotype and prototypical behavior to reinforce the leadership setup and transference to Timothy. At some points Timothy will be naturally identified as “one of us” throughout the epistle—for example, 4:12 (Haslam et al., 107). But on the whole Timothy is elevated in leadership through the specific instructions given to him, and those that are to be passed onto the group. This specificity is often linked with aspects of prototypicality in Paul or Jesus, to reinforce Timothy’s prototypical role within the group.

References Abrams, Dominic, Giovanni A. Travaglino, José M. Marques, Isabel Pinto, and John M. Levine. “Deviance Credit: Tolerance of Deviant Ingroup Leaders is Mediated by Their Accrual of Prototypicality and Conferral of Their Right to Be Supported.” Journal of Social Issues 74 (2018): 36–55. Cinnirella, Marco. “Exploring Temporal Aspects of Social Identity: The Concept of Possible Social Identities.” European Journal of Social Psychology 28 (1998): 227–48. Doise, Willem, and Jean-Claude Deschamps. “Crossed Category Memberships in Intergroup Relations.” Pages 141–58 in Differentiation Between Social Groups: Studies in the Social Psychology of Intergroup Relations. Edited by Henri Tajfel. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1978. Feltham, Martin. “Carefully Crafted or a Clumsy Imitation? Assessing the Argument of 1 Timothy 2:1–7.” Paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society, Pastoral Epistles. Providence, RI, 2017. Feltham, Martin. “Marriage, Food and the Agenda of the Antagonists: 1 Timothy 4:3 Reconsidered.” Paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature, Disputed Paulines. Boston, MA, 2017. Haslam, S. Alexander, Stephen D. Reicher, and Michael J. Platow. The New Psychology of Leadership: Identity, Influence and Power. Hove: Psychology Press, 2011.

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Hornsey, Matthew J., and Michael A. Hogg. “Subgroup Relations: A Comparison of Mutual Intergroup Differentiation and Common Ingroup Identity Models of Prejudice Reduction.” Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin 26 (2000): 242–56. Kelly, John N. D. The Pastoral Epistles. Peabody: Baker, 2009. McAdams, Dan P. “Narrative Identity.” Pages 99–115 in Handbook of Identity Theory and Research. Edited by S. J. Schwartz, K. Luyckx, and V. L. Vignoles. Springer New York, 2011. Mounce, W. D. Pastoral Epistles. Word Biblical Commentary. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2000. Oakes, Penelope J., S. Alexander Haslam, and John C. Turner. Stereotyping and Social Reality. Malden: Blackwell, 1994. Rapley, Mark, and Martha Augoustinos. “‘National Identity’ as a Rhetorical Resource.” Pages 194–210 in Language, Interaction and National Identity: Studies in the Social Organisation of National Identity. Edited by Stephen Hester and William Housley. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2002. Reicher, Stephen, and Fabio. Sani. “Introducing SAGA: Structural Analysis of Group Arguments.” Group Dynamics: Theory, Research, and Practice 2 (1998): 267–84.

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Chapter  17

2 Timothy Christopher A. Porter

Introduction Authorship and Composition See introduction to 1 Timothy.

Audience Similar to the audience of 1 Timothy the second Pastoral Epistle contains both personal and corporate modes of address. However, a less formal tone is taken in this epistle, and specific individuals are named with positive connotations—Lois, Eunice (1:5), and Onesiphorus (1:16)— rather than the predominantly negative overtones of individual ascription in the first epistle. Nevertheless, this letter will be similarly read as a predominantly corporate mode of address.

Major Theological Themes Like the first Pastoral Epistle the second focuses on contextually appropriate leadership development, although this epistle sees an increase in individual exemplars within the socialcategory norming process.

Social Identity Approach See introduction to 1 Timothy.

Commentary Introduction (1:1–5) The second Pastoral Epistle begins in a similar frame to the first, with a relatively typical salutation, introducing the author and the context of the letter. Many commentators note the

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higher degree of formality of this salutation, compared to the intensely personal nature of the letter, and ponder the work of a secondary hand. However, as Kelly aptly notes this degree of formality is less surprising given the degree of corporate address found in these epistles (Kelly, 153). Indeed, given the nature of the epistle as a form of leadership formation, this type of formal introduction from Paul serves well to reinforce his own position as a prototypical leader within the in-group. This is first conducted in the opening verse through the ascription of the in-group leadership role of “apostle” to himself, which is tied with the in-group prototype through the genitive use of Christ Jesus (Christou Iēsou; 2 Tim 1:1). In addition to the ascription from the in-group prototype, there is a secondary authoritative appeal to “the will of God” (1:1) that broadens the scope of the leadership role to also include the superordinate group. This is rounded out with the invocation of an in-group identity construct “the promise of life” which anchors the prototypical leadership role within a distinct in-group context. Taken together this brief sentence makes a strong claim for the leadership position for Paul and sets the rest of the leadership formation in the letter in context. From this strident statement of Paul’s apostolic credentials and qualifications for leadership of the in-group, he launches into an intensely personal—and seemingly disjunctive—thanksgiving for Timothy. Within a modern individualistic perspective, and the corporate nature of this letter, this personal appeal can appear out of place. However, within the context of a leadership development epistle this personal greeting serves to closely associate Timothy with Paul’s existing leadership role. First, a tri-partite greeting is given ascribing “grace, mercy and peace” from the prototypical in-group figures to Timothy. Second, Paul affirms that Timothy is linked with Paul through the “remembering in my prayers” (1:3). This remembrance is further tied to the superordinate group through the attribution of God being tied not only to Paul but also to Paul’s ancestors. Furthermore, there is an intensely personal link with Paul described in v. 4. Finally, in v. 5, this historical perspective is used to reinforce Timothy’s own prototypicality, as the lineage of faith is drawn from his grandmother and mother, before being anchored within Timothy (1:5). This ascription of faith within the group context serves to reinforce Timothy as a strongly stereotypical group member, and one who can properly be considered “one of us” by the members of the in-group. Indeed, this one-of-us-ness is one of the key factors for effective leadership within a group context (Haslam et al., 107).

Prototypical Leadership Function (1:6–14) Out of this context Paul seeks to reinforce the nature of prototypical leadership within the group, through a bracing sequence of exhortations. First, the leadership of Timothy is linked with two prototypical figures, as the gift comes from God, but communicated to Timothy through the laying on of Paul’s hands (1:6). Second, the outcome of this gift—as enacted in the Spirit given by God (1:7)—is seen in a series of prototypical characteristics: power, love, and self-discipline, which are drawn in contrast to a single non-prototypical characteristic: timidity. Third, a first consequence is given in Timothy being encouraged to “not be ashamed.” This shame is first linked with the witness about the superordinate group prototype—God—and then secondarily about Paul as a prisoner. These dual characteristics to be ashamed over are introduced here as a

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pair of foils for the type of leadership of the in-group sought by Paul. The second consequence for leadership formation in the epistle is the outcome of joining Paul in “suffering for the gospel” (synkakopathēson tō euangeliō; 1:8), and this is done within the context of the group as it is ascribed to the “power of God” (kata dynamin theou; 1:8). These exhortations are briefly interrupted by a brief exposition of the primary constructs of the gospel and serve to expound a series of in-group characteristic beliefs that reinforce the coherence of the in-group. While in this case the prosaic piece is not introduced with the “trustworthy saying” formula as in 1 Tim 1:15, the significant overlap of this content with presentations of the gospel in the other Pauline Epistles would strongly suggest that the audience would resonate with this presentation. Furthermore, as these stereotypical in-group constructs function as a rubric for assessing in-group prototypicality, they may also be utilized as an evaluation mechanism for social constructions that are presented in relation to the in-group. Within the preceding context this serves as an evaluation for Paul’s own leadership position within the group, and to assess his own prototypicality. However, in the following sections the same stereotypical constructs expounded in this gospel presentation will be relied upon to construe deviant members of the in-group (Abrams et al.). Indeed, this is indicated in nuce by the exhortation to prototypicality in 1:13, as Paul exhorts Timothy to “keep” the prototypical teaching that he has heard from Paul. This teaching is given as a “pattern” (1:13) which gives some indication of its purpose as a heuristic for prototypicality. In addition, it is anchored to “faith and love” in the in-group prototype, and “guarded” (1:14) by through the cooperative agency of the in-group prototype— the Holy Spirit (1:14). Against this background Paul subsequently highlights aspects of prototypicality and deviance in the social context, beginning with a brief comment regarding Phygelus and Hermogenes, and their “turning away” (1:15) from Paul. While this brief comment gives little information regarding the reason for turning away, the broader epistle implies that this was not merely a turning away from Paul, but also from the in-group “gospel prototypciality” that Paul is expounding. This is further emphasized by the second list of those who have left Paul in ch. 4. But even here it is reinforced by the contrasting example of Onesiphorus who displayed the sought after prototypicality in searching for Paul. The majority of commentators note that this praise for Onesiphorus is directed toward his household, implying that he may be already dead at this point. Even if this is not the case, the social construction from Paul ascribes Onesiphorus’s prototypicality to his broader household, not just the individual. This would suggest that the household of Onesiphorus forms a known prototypical subgroup within the in-group that may be exemplary for prototypical assessment.

Prototypical Emphasis for the Superordinate Group (2:1–13) From this exposition of prototypicality found in Onesiphorus, Paul moves on to how the prototypical emphasis may become stereotypical for the broader group. This begins with the typical invocation of the in-group prototype, and an exhortation to be strengthened within the in-group prototypical frame (2:1). In 2:2 Paul encourages Timothy to pass on the prototypical frame as an in-group pattern, and especially those who are themselves stereotypical in-group

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members and able to “teach others” (heterous didaxai; 2:2). Through the sequence of didactic “passing on” Paul is here in emphasizing an extended leadership structure that allows for multiple levels of in-group leadership, rather than focusing the scope of leadership just on Timothy. This diffusion of leadership authority assists in coalescing the group and increases the stereotypicality of the entire group within the shape of the prototypical leaders. Furthermore, given this involves a wider range of group members, it reinforces the influence gradient across the broader group, subsequently reinforcing the prototypicality of the leaders within the group (Haslam et al., 83). Within other studies of leadership development, this is coined as a “power to the edge” leadership strategy that enables flexibility within the group to address a range of leadership challenges in the environment (Hayes and Alberts, 185). For Paul this diffusion of leadership within Timothy’s context serves to reinforce the prototypicality of the in-group as he continues to elucidate. Throughout the next four verses—vv. 3–7—a series of prototypical characteristics are listed for Timothy—and the likely listening audience. Suffering, competing according to the rules, and receiving a first share for work are listed as prototypical in-group behavior. The public presentation of these characteristics for the audience allows for an in-group assessment of Timothy’s prototypicality within the group, and therefore his leadership effectiveness. This presentation is reinforced by an example of Paul’s own prototypicality, and the means through which he is building in-group “prototypical credit” (Abrams et al., 50). Paul’s prototypicality is exemplified in the following verses, as the elaboration of the in-group prototypical characteristic embodied in the Gospel (2:8) is extrapolated to Paul’s suffering “as a criminal” (2:9). While being chained as a criminal is undoubtedly idiosyncratic behavior for members of the in-group— as seen by other in-group members deserting Paul (1:15)—it is used here to highlight Paul’s own prototypicality. This imprisonment is only able to be used to highlight prototypicality due to the “prototypicality credit” that he has as an in-group leader and champion of the in-group social identity (Haslam et al., 104). In turn this idiosyncratic behavior is presented as being in the interest of the in-group insofar as it benefits the group, with this imprisonment being done “for the elect” (2:10) (Haslam et al., 123). Subsequently this is reinforced by another of Paul’s “trustworthy sayings” which ends with a jarring break to the pattern of the saying. This break in the pattern reinforces the faithfulness of the in-group prototype to the in-group, and secondarily endorses Paul’s idiosyncratic behavior.

Endorsement of Timothy as a Stereotypical In-group Member (“One of Us”-ness) (2:14–26) From this basis of Paul’s prototypical—yet idiosyncratic—leadership position the epistle turns back to Timothy as a leader and embedder of in-group identity. The first aspect is for Timothy to “remind [the in-group] of these things” (2:14). This is expanded with an instruction for the in-group, in the form of warning them “against fighting over words” (mē logomachei; 2:14)—a brief non-prototypical group behavior that recurs throughout the Pastoral Epistles and evidently represents a recognizable out-group behavior. This is reinforced by a pair of examples, the first in the form of a possible future social identity an “approved worker” (2:15), linked to “correctly handling the word” (2:15) and avoiding irreverent babble (2:16). This possible future social

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identity is contrasted with a pair of individuals, Hymaneus and Philetus, who are no longer members of the in-group, on the basis of errorist teaching: namely that the resurrection has already occurred (2:18). These temporal examples provide a foil for clarifying the in-group instructions and reinforcing in-group prototypicality. However, Paul reinforces in-group stability through a pair of shared schematic narrative invocations (2:19). First, that the Lord knows who is his, which reinforces in-group identity structures through an appeal to a shared narrative. Second, through an instruction for members of the in-group to turn away from wickedness. This pair of invocations serves to reinforce the possible future social identity through the recognition of the shared narrative and the category membership derived from this shared narrative (Rapley and Augoustinos, 204). After a brief exemplary metaphorical interlude (2:20–21)—designed to demonstrate the turning away from wickedness within the in-group—Paul continues with his instructions for Timothy. This opens with another dual imperative: flee non-prototypical behavior and pursue prototypical behavior (2:22). The public reinforcement of Timothy’s prototypicality serves to emphasize his role within the group as a prototypical group member, and therefore eligible for leadership within the group. This correlates well with the second charge to “refuse foolish and uneducated debates” (mōras kai apaideutous zētēseis paraitou; 2:23), as this has already been described earlier as non-prototypical behavior. The outcome of this prototypical construction is that Timothy exemplifies in-group prototypical leadership behavior, and to this end is told to “gently instruct” opponents, such that they may eventually become in-group members (2:25–26). This is done so that they may leave the generic out-group as “captive[s]” to “the devil” (2:26). In this fashion Paul’s extrapolation of prototypical leadership behavior specifically involves leadership outside of the in-group, such that the in-group may be expanded.

Out-group Leadership Strategy (3:1–9) To this end Paul subsequently launches into an extended treatment of out-group stereotypical characteristics (3:1–4). In the narrative this serves three main purposes. First, it generates social distance from the out-group, as a pattern of vilifying of a stereotype assists in emphasizing a robust in-group structure, in opposition to the out-group. Second, it describes a pattern of out-group prototypicality that is antithetical to the in-group, and therefore enumerates a series of non-prototypical characteristics for the in-group themselves. Finally, as elaborated upon in the final verse of this section (3:5), this described out-group is presented as a near-neighbor out-group, “having a form of godliness” (3:5), and as such present a material threat to the in-group. As is often recognized in social groups, and described almost axiomatically by Pierre Bourdieu, “Social identity lies in difference, and difference is asserted against what is closest, which represents the greatest threat” (Bourdieu, 479). Therefore, this stridently polemic vitriol should not surprise the audience, given the near-neighbor nature of the group. However, we should not presume that this polemic vitriol implies a form of social sectarianism, especially given the prototypical leadership structure expounded by Paul in 2:25–26. The social group that Paul is writing to still has porous boundaries, which is what makes this threat so dangerous, and responded to with such vitriol.

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This strident vitriol is expanded through a description of the stereotypical modus operandi of the out-group (3:6–9). Through highlighting a specific crosscutting group—albeit in derogatory form gynaikaria—that is targeted by these members of the out-group (3:6). The highlighting of this crosscutting group also helps in understanding why this specific crosscutting group receives such focused attention in the Pastoral Epistles (1 Tim 2:9–11; 3:11; 5:3–16) (Mounce, 548). In expanding this point Paul reaches for a historically shared schematic narrative to hammer his point home, referring to Jannes and Jambres. While Jannes and Jambres are unknown to the Hebrew Bible, they do appear in the wider Jewish literature (e.g., CD 5:18). The historical appeal here is not to define Timothy as a new form of Moses, but rather—as Haslam et al. note— history “provides a number of resources that we can draw on in order to create a contemporary understanding of ourselves” (Haslam et al., 178). This contemporary understanding invokes the rhetorical trope of those who “oppose the truth” (anthistantai tē alētheia; 3:8) and draws on the cultural understanding that—according to the Targums—they were killed during the events of the Exodus. Indeed, this is made explicit in 3:9, as Paul extrapolates that “their madness will be manifest.”

Mimetic Relationship to Paul as Leadership Transference (3:10–17) However, there is also a secondary corollary of the Jannes and Jambres historical invocation, in that Paul’s own leadership is drawn in correlation to that of Moses’s, and therefore Timothy’s own prototypical leadership is in the same vein (Stott, 90). This leadership prototypicality is expanded upon as Paul writes a contrasting series of characteristics to those that he enumerated in the first paragraph of the chapter. This sets forth a standard of prototypicality that allows Timothy—and other members of the congregation—to imitate this. As Haslam et al. reflect on Paul’s leadership strategy, “In short, then, the secret of Paul’s success was that he understood that, in order to propel his mission forward, he needed to build new structures with his followers that were founded on a sense of shared social identity . . . and that allowed them to live out that shared identity” (Haslam et al., 195). Thus Paul first lists prototypical characteristics that he embodies, “teaching, manner of life, purpose, faith, patience, love, endurance” (3:10), before listing off a litany of suffering and persecution (3:11). Furthermore, this is set up as stereotypical for all members of the in-group, as Paul notes that “all [in-group members] will be persecuted” (3:12). This is in contrast to the earlier described out-group, who will get worse. Instead, Timothy—and the wider audience for the epistle—is exhorted to “remain in what you have learnt” (3:14) due to the source of the teaching, Paul himself. This mimetic charge is profoundly powerful for embedding social identity, and leadership within this context. As Esler cogently writes—and Haslam et al. approvingly cite, In congregations that he founded, Paul based his claim to exemplify the group on his behavior when among them. In particular, he went so far as to portray himself as the model of life in Christ that other Christ-believers should imitate . . . Paul’s position is that he epitomizes the social category of Christ-follower (that is, he both defines it and is defined by it) and that other believers . . . should copy him. (Esler, 223), quoted in (Haslam et al., 194)

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To this end Timothy is again exhorted to prototypicality, with Paul reminding him of the historical nature of his faith, and their relation to the salvation found through faith in Christ Jesus (3:15). This historical nature, found in the sacred writings (hiera grammata; 3:15, taken to be synonymous with graphē in 3:16), provides Timothy with a “guide book” for prototypicality within his leadership. Furthermore, the leadership role is described here as “teaching, rebuking, correcting and training” (3:16)—a relatively whole orbed picture of in-group leadership. Finally, a possible future social identity is given for this leadership endeavor, that Timothy—here “man of God” (3:17)—but more generically any in-group member in the audience, may be “completely equipped” (3:17). Through a social identity lens, this may be seen as them being thoroughly prototypical as an in-group member.

Timothy as Subleader, Transformation of Authority (4:1–8) Toward this objective Paul again “charge[s]” (4:1) Timothy to take up a leadership position within the local ekklesia. This exhortation for the leadership position is given in the context of a pair of oath forms, related to Jesus and God as in-group prototypes. The exhortation here is to a single act: “Preach the word” (kēryxon ton logon; 4:2). However, this single act comes with a raft of correlations and consequences. Being prepared, correcting, rebuking, encouraging, and so on are all described as correlated actions that go along with the single charge (4:2). As with many of the leadership charges in the Pastoral Epistles, a correlated but contrary observation is made of the out-group, here that out-group members will find heterodox teachers to idiomatically “scratch their itch” (4:3). This observation is not presented in specific, but rather given generically as turning away from truth and toward myths (4:4) and presents a similar pattern to groups who are desperately seeking a leader. As Haslam et al. write of Franz Neumnan’s observations, “Dictators may have sought to enhance a feeling of awe in their leadership, but followers used this feeling to attain their own ends—in particular, fending off misery and a sense of hopelessness” (Haslam et al., 202). By contrast, Timothy is to do the work of a prototypical in-group leader, imitating Paul as the prototypical enumeration of 3:10–17 is summarized in suffering and evangelizing to completion (4:5). It is only at this point in the letter that Paul’s reason for writing the letter and embedding leadership to Timothy is revealed: he is passing on the baton. With the recognition that leaderless groups tend to splinter or chase after various other forms of leadership Paul is seeking to set up Timothy as his leadership replacement. Rather than being a single “great leader” or “heroic” model of leadership, Paul recognizes that leadership in the group depends on prototypicality and other members of the in-group being empowered to follow (Haslam et al., 201). Thus as Paul is describing the end of his “race” (4:6–8), he is simultaneously describing a prototypical possible future social identity for Timothy and other leaders in the community.

Interpersonal Relationships (4:9–18) It is also here at the end of the letter that Paul’s reasoning for Timothy’s training of a third generation of prototypical leaders (2:1–2) is made clear: Paul wants Timothy to join him (4:9). All of the

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prototypical instruction and exhortation addressed to Timothy, but proclaimed to a broader audience, will need to be heeded by another generation of leaders. Thus, the heavy emphasis on prototypicality in the letter is well warranted, as it is an attempt to mitigate against deviance within the group as the leadership base becomes further diffused. This desire for Timothy to join Paul is presented against the backdrop of people leaving the group, specifically in the case of Demas, of whom Paul cites the reason as he “loved this age” (4:10). However, the other cases of Paul being left alone do not appear to be a matter of leaving the in-group, but rather of Paul sending members around the broader network of churches—of which we find out a little more in the final Pastoral Epistle. Nevertheless, this is tempered with an example of an out-group stereotypical representative: “Alexander the metalworker” (4:14). While this is little more than a parenthetical remark, the intergroup nature of the interaction is visible in the brief comment. Rounding out this section Paul gives an account of his first defense, where he continues in the elaboration of prototypical behavior for the group. Although Paul was socially reduced to an individual perspective—the social group had deserted him—he maintained a perspective as a social-category member (4:16). Furthermore, this demonstration of in-group behavior involves an extrapolation of the prototypical behavior (4:17–18) that Paul has enumerated in 3:10–17 and 4:1–5. Thus, even in this trial Paul writes of demonstrating the prototypical behavior of the in-group, emphasizing his leadership role within the group.

Benediction, with Broader In-group Appeal (4:19–22) Finally, the letter ends with a brief greeting from other members of the broader community, and notably concludes with the second-person plural “you,” emphasizing the nature of the letter to a wider audience than just Timothy.

References Abrams, Dominic, Giovanni A. Travaglino, José M. Marques, Isabel Pinto, and John M. Levine. “Deviance Credit: Tolerance of Deviant Ingroup Leaders is Mediated by Their Accrual of Prototypicality and Conferral of Their Right to Be Supported.” Journal of Social Issues 74 (2018): 36–55. Bourdieu, Pierre. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. Translated by Richard Nice. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1979. Esler, Philip F. Conflict and Identity in Romans. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003. Haslam, S. Alexander., Stephen D. Reicher, and Michael J. Platow. The New Psychology of Leadership: Identity, Influence and Power. Hove: Psychology Press, 2011. Hayes, Richard E., and David S. Alberts. Power to the Edge: Command and Control in the Information Age. Washington DC: CCRP, 2003. Kelly, John N. D. The Pastoral Epistles. Peabody: Baker, 2009. Mounce, William D. Pastoral Epistles. Word Biblical Commentary. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2000. Rapley, Mark, and Martha Augoustinos. “‘National Identity’ as a Rhetorical Resource.” Pages 194–210 in Language, Interaction and National Identity: Studies in the Social Organisation of National Identity. Edited by Stephen Hester and William Housley. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2002. Stott, John The Message of 1 Timothy and Titus. Leicester, England; Downers Grove: IVP, 1973.

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Chapter  18

Titus Christopher A. Porter

Introduction Authorship and Composition See introduction to 1 Timothy.

Audience Similar to the context for 1 Timothy, this letter to Titus appears to be intended as a mode of personalized corporate address. However, while Timothy appears to have remained in Ephesus, Titus is situated in Crete. This change in location prompts uniquely contextualized examples for the epistle.

Major Theological Themes As with the themes of the other pastorals, the third epistle focuses on leadership development and exhortation to prototypicality, but within the context of a multi-town gathering in Crete.

Social Identity Approach See introduction to 1 Timothy, especially section on temporality with regard to the final section of Titus.

Commentary Introduction (1:1–4) The third of the Pastoral Epistles begins with a similar opening to the others, emphasizing Paul’s own prototypicality within the group. First, describing himself as a “servant of God” (doulos

T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament

theou; 1:1) and then an “apostle of Jesus Christ” (apostolos . . . Iēsou Christou; 1:1). Then continuing with a description of a series of in-group prototypical ascriptions, and Paul’s own interaction with each of these aspects as an in-group prototypical champion. Like the pattern in the other Pastoral Epistles this anchors the letter within Paul’s claim to prototypicality within the in-group, and therefore to being able to represent the in-group within a leadership role. This legitimation of Paul’s leadership role serves as a crucial building block for the leadership promulgation that occurs throughout the letter.

Leadership Prototype (1:5–9) This leadership promulgation begins early in the letter with a clear statement of the intended purpose of the epistle: that Titus would “put in order what was left” (1:5). The putting in order in this case involves the construction and promulgation of an effective leadership structure for the Cretan church, in this case “appointing elders in every town.” These elders are to display a series of prototypical in-group characteristics, namely being blameless, faithful, having believing children who are not wild or disobedient (1:6). This series of prototypical characteristics is set forth as a stereotypical pattern for the in-group and assists in construing the leader as “one of us” within the in-group. These prototypical characteristics are further expanded in a virtue-and-vice list (1:7–8) that allows for external assessment of group-member prototypicality, and thereby a means to assess whether the leader is “standing for the group” rather than apart from the group (Haslam et al., 78). In the context of this epistle, the nature of standing for the group is essential, due to the complexity of the crosscutting social categories at play. Furthermore, Paul adds another prototypical aspect that rounds out this section, that the prospective in-group leader must “cling to” (1:9) what he has been taught, in order to encourage others by healthy prototypicality, and refute non-prototypical characteristics (1:9). This aspect of effective leaders within the in-group promotes the prototypicality of the group as a whole, and the pattern of teaching and leadership development promotes an effective follower pattern within the group as the leader represents the group interest (Haslam et al., 209).

Out-group Stereotype (1:10–16) This is directly contrasted with a stereotypical description of the out-group at hand, beginning with rebellious people, engaging in “empty talk” (1:10), and further specified as being of the group that is properly described by being of the circumcision (hoi ek tēs peritomēs; 1:10). This distinct out-group is minimally described here but is evidently recognizable to the audience of the epistle. Furthermore, the specific presence of an identifiable out-group within this work highlights the nature of intergroup bias in the social categorization of the epistle. As axiomatically observed within SIA, the audience of the epistle will naturally favor members of the in-group over members of an out-group, and in this rhetorical flourish, the specific—identifiable—outgroup at hand is highlighted to ensure appropriate intergroup bias. Paul continues to link this with their stereotypical actions, and the non-prototypical reasoning behind these actions: “for

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dishonest gain” (1:11). This description of the out-group represents a reasonably robust outgroup categorization, able to be identifiable by both members of the in-group, and relatively identifiable to any audience that does not have distinct in-group knowledge. In addition to this description of the out-group Paul links them with an appellation of the cultural superordinate group, through the adage that “Cretans are always liars” (1:12). This adage serves to link the negative description of the out-group with a similarly negative description of the superordinate group. By contrast, Paul has already given a description of the prototypical in-group characteristics that is antithetical to both the out-group and the superordinate group descriptors. Therefore, taking 1:6–12 as a consistent argument, Paul gives a SAGA Type B presentation, that serves to distance the in-group self-categorization from both the out-group and the superordinate group within the social categorization of the letter (Reicher and Sani, 280). However, rather than maintaining a significant social distance, Paul instead instructs Titus—and presumably the other in-group audience—to “rebuke them severely” (1:13). In contrast to many examples of SAGA type arguments that are used to limit intergroup contact (e.g., 2 Tim 3:5), this epistle encourages its audience to engage in intergroup conflict for the purpose of expanding the in-group. The following verse reinforces the out-group description with a pair of stereotypical characteristics drawn from two crosscutting groups. The first of these deals with “Jewish myths” (Ioudaikois mythois; 1:14) and the second with “human commandments” (entolais anthrōpōn; 1:14). These two characteristics appear to be less complementary, but rather highlight the crosscutting nature of this composite out-group, featuring both Jewish and some form of “human commandments,” along with the indictment of being Cretan. This out-group is further described in contrast to the social category of “the pure,” and Paul doubles down on the rhetorical description of the out-group as Cretans of the highest order.

In-group Instantiation and Attributes (2:1–15) Titus on the other hand is charged to conduct healthy teaching (hygiainousē didaskalia; 2:1) which in effect is teaching in a fitting manner to the prototypical norms. From this Paul lists a series of crosscutting groups with specific prototypical behaviors for each group. “Older men” (Presbytas; 2:2) receive brief instructions with a list of prototypical behaviors that parallel similar virtue lists found elsewhere in Paul’s writings. Older women (presbytidas; 2:3) receive a similarly brief list, but the instruction set is extended in the following verse to include mimetic group instruction for another crosscutting category of “younger women” (neas; 2:4), as means of promulgating prototypical behavior within the group. This pattern of leadership divestment facilitates improved prototypical embedding within the group and encourages the strength of the group as a whole (Haslam et al., 216). Paul continues on to the group of “young men” (neōterous; 2:6), of whom the responsibility for prototypical development lies on Titus, rather than the “older men” listed earlier—in contrast to the relationship between older and younger women in the previous section. Similar prototypical behavior is to be embedded, but in this case an external relationship and purpose is given, so that any out-group has no grist for their mill (2:8).

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The next in-group subcategory to be addressed is that of the crosscutting group of “slaves” (Doulous; 2:9), for whom a primary crosscutting interaction is given with the category of “master” (despotais; 2:9). There is no sense here of whether these masters were members of the in-group, or any of the named out-groups, but rather this appears to be a universal relationship regardless of the group memberships at hand. Similar to other relations though, the relationship with masters in this context is intended to promote the in-group and notably specifically anchored to the in-group prototype (2:10). See further on the haustafel in the corresponding section of 1 Timothy. These specific subcategory addresses are finally rounded out with an encouragement to prototypicality, drawing from the in-group anchor of “the grace of God” (hē charis tou theou; 2:11). It is this in-group construct that Paul chooses at this point to anchor the in-group prototypical behavior. In turn this is reinforced by appeals to the actions of the in-group prototype in the formative process for the group (2:13–14). Finally, this chapter is rounded out by charge to Titus—bookending 2:1—as an instruction to lead and train in a prototypical manner.

In-group Actions toward Out-group (3:1–11) This training in a prototypical fashion is continued in the following section, as Paul turns his attention to in-group prototypical behavior with regard to various other out-groups. This is initially in relation to engagements with “ruling authorities” (3:1), but is notably qualified with a series of in-group prototypical characteristics (3:1–2). These characteristics allow for a range of assessable actions, along with a mechanism for promoting intergroup interaction. Indeed, these actions are followed up with a rationale drawn from another of Paul’s “trustworthy saying[s]” (3:8). This trustworthy saying serves as another opportunity to reinforce the in-group prototypical constructs and establish a potentially controversial point—obeying ruling authorities—upon the basis of prototypical belief within the group. This is perhaps even more important at this critical juncture of the letter, given the potential anti-imperial overtones of 2:13–14 (Mounce, 444). Reinforcing and rehearsing the in-group prototypical constructs at this point assists Paul in establishing an appropriate pattern of action for the group, especially given the mnemonic context embedded in this trustworthy saying. Through the reminder of the past-social identity (3:3–4) the temporally present (3:5–6) and future social identities (3:7) are strongly reinforced. As Cinnirella astutely notes, “Past-oriented thinking can be just as consequential for the self-concept as future thinking” (Cinnirella, 236). Therefore, this social narrative should be repeated (3:8) by Titus— and the in-group—as a means of reinforcing the in-group self-categorization. However, as this trustworthy saying also involves external engagement with other groups, it implies a porous group boundary, and therefore the possibility of external inclusion into the group. Paul uses the closing of the letter to return to the introduction, and his reason for writing. However, while 1:10 specifically names an external social category—those of the circumcision— as the group interaction, this section speaks of conflict in terms that suggest a possible in-group conflict. While 3:9 speaks of the conflict in much the same way as previously, there is an implication of the fractious individual in 3:10 is part of the in-group, and perhaps the conflict over these issues is causing in-group division in a similar fashion to that of the Corinthian church (1 Cor 1:10–17). Nevertheless, the outcome is similar to the earlier conflict: “refuse them” (3:10).

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Some commentators point to this refusal as being in the context of the Lord’s Supper or the community meal (Mounce, 454). However, the primary mechanism for “refusal” comes through the presentation of the following possible future social identity, as Paul elaborates that they are “self-condemned” (3:11). Ultimately this possible future social identity serves as a means of preventing division within the community, as it leaves any exclusion from the in-group to an undetermined point in the future.

Conclusion (3:12–14) The letter rounds out in a similar fashion to the other Pastoral Epistles with a series of personal greetings and travel plans, albeit interpolated with a brief encouragement to prototypicality (3:14).

References Cinnirella, Marco. “Exploring Temporal Aspects of Social Identity: The Concept of Possible Social Identities.” European Journal of Social Psychology 28 (1998): 227–48. Haslam, S. Alexander, Stephen D. Reicher, and Michael J. Platow. The New Psychology of Leadership: Identity, Influence and Power. Hove: Psychology Press, 2011. Mounce, William D. Pastoral Epistles. Word Biblical Commentary. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2000. Reicher, Stephen, and Fabio Sani. “Introducing SAGA: Structural Analysis of Group Arguments.” Group Dynamics: Theory, Research, and Practice 2.4. Research Methods (1998): 267–84.

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Chapter  19

Philemon Ryan Heinsch

Introduction Composition History The question of authorship and the letter’s literary integrity are largely taken for granted. The authorship of Philemon (hereafter Phlm) is almost universally attributed to Paul (vv. 1, 19). Timothy is listed as the co-sender (v. 1). Finally, due in part to the letter’s brevity—a mere 533 words—its literary integrity has largely gone unchallenged.

Audience The letter is addressed first and foremost to Philemon who is described as “our dear friend and co-worker” (v. 1). It is likely that Philemon was converted under Paul’s ministry (v. 19), and as the letter suggests, he was a fellow worker and “partner” (vv. 1, 17) in the Pauline Christ-movement (Tucker, 420). It is believed that he resided in Colossae and served as one of the leaders in the Christ-following ekklēsia there. In fact, Philemon’s house likely doubled as ekklēsia space (v. 2; cf. Col 4:9). In addition to his role as a leader in the Christ-movement, Philemon was also a slave owner, as the letter clearly names Onesimus as one of Philemon’s slaves (v. 16). The unknown circumstances surrounding an apparent breach in their relationship is the reason for Paul’s writing (v. 10; see section “Major Interpretive Issues and Theological Themes”). Although Philemon is the letter’s primary recipient, it is also addressed to Apphia, Archippus, and “the church in your house” (v. 2). While some scholars suggest that Apphia and Archippus are members of Philemon’s immediate family (i.e., wife and son), it is more likely that they are fellow co-workers of Philemon serving with him as leading members of the Colossian ekklēsia (McKnight, 58; cf. Col 4:17). Moreover, the fact that Apphia, Acrhippus, and the entire Colossian ekklēsia are included as recipients suggests that, on some level, Paul’s request involves and affects more than one person. In short, although composed as a private letter and addressed primarily to Philemon, what Paul has to say is a public matter that has implications for both Philemon’s immediate household and the entire Colossian ekklēsia (Weima, 37).

T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament

Literary Structure The literary structure of Phlm reflects that of a personal letter from that time period (Dunn, 309). The letter is organized into three sections: the introduction, the body, and the closing. The introduction identifies the senders and recipients, with particular focus on the description of Philemon as the letter’s primary recipient (vv. 1–7). Following this, the body constitutes the letter’s primary request: namely, that Philemon would welcome Onesimus back as “more than a slave,” as “a beloved brother” (vv. 8–22). Lastly, the letter closes with final greetings and a Pauline benediction (vv. 23–25).

Date The letter offers little by way of information on the question of date. Traditionally, this has been answered in relation to the question of the letter’s provenance. Clearly, Paul wrote while imprisoned (vv. 1, 9, 10, 13, 23). In relation to this, then, the two primary options for understanding the place of the letter’s composition are Ephesus and Rome. If one takes the former view, the letter was written sometime between 53 CE and 55 CE, if the latter, between 60 CE and 62 CE. Due to Colossae’s proximity to Ephesus, the Ephesian hypothesis is to be favored, and thus, a date of 53–55 CE is likely (McKnight, 37).

Major Interpretive Issues and Theological Themes Scholars commonly identify two primary interpretive issues in Phlm. The first issue relates to the letter’s narrative background: namely, the circumstances that led Paul to write the letter. At the risk of oversimplification, this question has been answered in one of four ways: (1) the brother hypothesis (e.g., Callahan); (2) the messenger hypothesis (e.g., Tucker); (3) the runaway hypothesis (e.g., Nordling); or (4) the mediator hypothesis (e.g., Lampe). While option one is unlikely, the letter simply does not provide enough information on the other three to draw a definitive conclusion. However, for this commentary, we will tentatively adopt a combination of both the messenger and mediator hypotheses. That is, while the letter suggests that Onesimus has “wronged” Philemon (vv. 18–19) in some way, and so he has sought Paul to mediate on his behalf (vv. 11, 15, 18), the letter at the same time appears to take for granted that Philemon is aware of Onesimus’s whereabouts and possibly even his intentions. If this is the case, then it is likewise possible that Philemon actually approved of Onesimus’s departure. In other words, Philemon may have sent Onesimus to Paul in order to inquire how he, a Christ-following slave owner, was to handle a situation in which one of his slaves had financially and/or materially wronged him through the slave’s mismanagement of his domestic responsibilities, thus becoming untrustworthy or “useless” in the process (v. 11). The second interpretive issue involves accurately deducing the request Paul makes of Philemon on behalf of Onesimus. The nature of Paul’s request has been understood in one of four ways: (1) manumission: this view maintains that Paul’s ultimate goal is the manumission of Onesimus (e.g., Wessels); (2) ambiguous: this view holds that, due to the seemingly cryptic nature of his request, 476

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Paul is either (a) intentionally unclear or (b) not even sure himself what to request (e.g., Barclay); (3) ecclesial revolution: this view focuses on the transformation of Onesimus whereby his identity as a slave is obliterated, and thus, within the Christ-movement, he is to be viewed as a freeperson (e.g., Wolter); or (4) welcome: this view maintains that Philemon is to welcome Onesimus back into his house, as one who is not just a slave, but also a beloved brother both in the flesh and in the Lord (e.g., McKnight). Altogether, each approach attempts to address, albeit differently, the primary concern of the letter: How is Philemon, who is both a Christ-follower and a slave owner, to receive and relate to one of his slaves who is now also a follower of Christ (Tucker, 412)? Arising from this question is the letter’s primary theological theme: reconciliation. In this brief letter, Paul will call Philemon to welcome Onesimus back into his household. Yet, the way this slave owner is to welcome his slave is a far cry from the status quo. Philemon is exhorted to welcome Onesimus, his now Christ-following slave, back into his household as one who is now not merely a slave, but a slave who is, at the same time, a “beloved brother” (vv. 16–17). In other words, rather than pursue justice, Paul calls Philemon to embrace this newfound fictive kinship whereby the reconciliation, and thus restoration, of a Christ-following slave owner and his Christfollowing slave is on full display (McKnight, 5).

Significance For many, this letter provides a sobering snapshot into the reality of slavery in the Roman Empire and the early Christ-movement. Within the Roman Empire specifically, slaves were viewed as nothing more than property, or literally “bodies,” that belonged entirely to another, that is, a slave master (cf. Aristotle, Politics, 1.2.7). As such, slaves were thought to be socially, morally, and ontologically inferior (McKnight, 13). As Scot McKnight puts it, “Slaves were legally nonexistent persons” on the lowest level of society with little to no rights (15). And while a slave could eventually pursue manumission and thus become, in some sense, “freed,” their relationship to and dependence on their slave master often meant that this newfound freedom did little to improve their livelihood; instead, apart from his or her slave master, many slaves struggled to maintain the necessary level of subsistence to live and function (McKnight, 23–27; de Vos). In relation to the early Christ-movement, as much as we—readers in the twenty-first century— would like Paul to outright condemn this troubling social institution, he simply does not. Yet, at the same time, neither does he outright accept the status quo. Rather, Paul does what for many in the first century would have been unthinkable: in referring to a slave as both a son and a brother, Paul connects Onesimus to an ecclesial family whereby, although he remains a slave, he is no longer deprived of dignity and respect. Finally, this letter reflects a snapshot of the vision Paul has for the Christ-movement as a place of ecclesial hospitality and solidarity in the midst of social differentiation (on this concept, see Jipp, 50–76).

Social Identity Approach Employing insights from social identity theory and self-categorization theory, this commentary will focus on Paul as an entrepreneur of identity. It will seek to demonstrate that, while Paul does 477

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not disparage the existing social identities of Philemon and Onesimus, he seeks to reprioritize and thus transform them based on their shared superordinate identity in Christ. In this way, Paul explicitly rehabilitates and recategorizes Onesimus’s identity as a Christ-following slave and, at the same time, establishes Philemon as an ingroup prototype and implicitly challenges him to undertake the process of self-categorization so that his existing identity as both a slave owner and Christ-follower would be reprioritized and thus aligned accordingly. Finally, in a few places, insights from critical spatial theory will be employed in order to demonstrate how the recategorization of identity is linked to the reconceptualization of space. Put simply, the recategorization of Onesimus’s identity from that of a mere slave to one who remains a slave but is also now a beloved brother implies and requires the reconceptualization of the space of Philemon’s house. Altogether, this demonstrates Paul’s ecclesial vision of solidarity and hospitality amid social differentiation.

Commentary Introduction (1–7) The introduction to Phlm follows a typical Pauline letter. It begins by identifying the sender(s) and recipient(s), offers a statement of greeting, and concludes with a word of prayerful thanksgiving. While it is tempting to view this section as a mere formality, Paul’s intentions for it are evident from the start. He skillfully employs language that highlights his and the recipient’s shared ingroup identity, thus affirming their commonality (i.e., collective behavior, intergroup values, and shared group beliefs); and likewise, he portrays Philemon as one who embodies the group norms and thus functions as an ingroup prototype. Hence, the way Paul introduces the letter prepares Philemon, and likewise the others, for the request he will make in the following section (Weima, 32). Thus, the terms that surface here are found throughout the remainder of the letter and function as the basis for much of Paul’s appeal: “prisoner” (vv. 1, 9, 23), “brother” (vv. 1, 7, 16, 20), “friend/beloved” (vv. 1, 16), “love” (vv. 5, 7, 9), “heart” (vv. 7, 12, 20), “refresh” (vv. 7, 20). (1–3) Opening As the sender, Paul opens the letter with the self-identifying descriptor “a prisoner of Christ Jesus” (v. 1a). The unique use of this descriptor, over against “apostle” (cf. 1 Cor 1:1; 2 Cor 1:1; Gal 1:1) or even “servant” (cf. Rom 1:1; Phil 1:1), is significant. The fact that Paul refers to himself as a “prisoner,” and speaks of his own “imprisonment” at various points throughout the letter (vv. 1, 9, 10, 13; cf. v. 23), suggests that this descriptor serves a larger purpose. As one who has experienced hardship and suffering for the sake of the gospel, Paul is identifying himself as a prototype to be followed. In other words, since he is obedient to Christ no matter the cost, so too should Philemon be similarly willing. Following this, Paul introduces his co-sender Timothy as “our brother” (v. 1b). As such, Timothy is understood to embody the shared ingroup prototype. Moreover, the kinship-oriented term “brother,” which too will be of primary significance throughout (vv. 2, 7, 16, 20), functions as an intragroup label and emphasizes the fictive kinship and common identity that is shared by Paul, the addressees, and all who belong to the Christ-movement (Tucker, 412). 478

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Next, Paul identifies the addressees (vv. 1c–2). In doing so, he employs terms that designate them as members of the ingroup as well. First, Paul names Philemon, who is understood to be the primary recipient of the letter, and describes him as “our dear friend” (agapētos) or, more appropriately, “our beloved” (NASB). This term functions as an ingroup designator and reminds Philemon that, as a member of the Christ-movement, he belongs to an alternative community of mutual love and solidarity. Later, Paul will use this same term to describe Onesimus and thus identify him as a member of the ingroup as well (v. 16). Additionally, Philemon is called a “co-worker,” which identifies him with both Timothy and others (v. 23): those who are fellow laborers in the Pauline Christ-movement. Apphia is named next; she is called “our sister.” This term immediately brings to mind the description of Timothy and thus reinforces the group’s fictive kinship and Apphia’s role as one who likewise embodies the ingroup prototype. Next, Archippus is described as “our fellow soldier,” which similarly aligns him as one of the prototypical members who shares the common identity of the ingroup. Finally, Paul concludes the list of recipients with “the church (ekklēsia) in your house.” Scholars have debated the antecedent of the singular pronoun “your,” but it is likely in reference to Philemon’s house, as the second-person singular pronoun is used exclusively in reference to him throughout the rest of the letter. Like the sibling language above, the term ekklēsia, and later “saints” (hagio; vv. 4, 7), is an intragroup label that functions as a superordinate self-designation for the members of the ingroup (Tucker, 412). Paul rounds off the letter’s opening with his traditional greeting (v. 3). He refers to God as “our Father” and the Lord Jesus Christ. Calling God “Father” reinforces the group’s fictive kinship ties, as God is their paterfamilias. Moreover, the “grace and peace” which is both “from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ” further describes the superordinate identity of the ingroup. Their shared experience of grace and peace marks them as children of God and brothers and sisters in Christ. Altogether, the cluster of terms Paul uses in these opening verses confirm that he and the addressees are members of a particular social group with a distinct ethos. Thus, Paul employs terms that contribute to the affirmation of the group’s identity, and he likewise reminds them of their shared experiences based on their superordinate identity of being in Christ. It will be their shared experiences and common identity that will provide both the ideological framework and guiding principles for the way Paul expects Philemon to respond to the request he will make of him in the following section of the letter. (4–7) Thanksgiving In vv. 4–7, Paul turns his attention to Philemon and, until the very last verse of the letter, addresses him directly. Here he offers words of prayerful thanksgiving, intercession, and commendation, both for the way Philemon has ministered to members of the ingroup—including Paul himself—and for his faithfulness to Jesus. In the following section of the letter, these will be the very same qualities Paul hopes Philemon will employ in his newfound relationship with his Christ-following slave Onesimus. Paul begins by stating his thankfulness for Philemon’s “love” and “faith” (vv. 4–5). More specifically, it is Philemon’s “love for all the saints” and his “faith toward the Lord Jesus” that is the cause of Paul’s thanksgiving. These are qualities that are best understood as group norms. In other words, Paul is thankful that Philemon faithfully embodies that which the group values most. As such, Philemon is put forward as one who is an example of the ingroup prototype, as his love and faith exemplify the collective behavior of the group.

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Following this, Paul’s prayer of thanksgiving turns to one of exhortation (v. 6). Just as he is thankful for what he has heard of Philemon’s love and faith, he prays that Philemon would not be satisfied with the status quo, but that he would seek to do even more good (agathos). Specifically, Paul prays that the “sharing” or, better yet, “partnership” (koinōnia) of Philemon’s faith would be effective as Philemon comes to “perceive all the good that we may do for Christ.” To put it differently, Paul’s prayer here is that Philemon will recognize that there is even more good to be done for Christ beyond that which he has already done and is currently doing. Moreover, by alerting Philemon to the “good” that he and Philemon may do together, Paul strategically prepares Philemon for the request he will make of him later in the letter: namely, that Philemon would do the “good deed” that is being asked of him, which involves seeing Onesimus as a brother and thus a member of the ingroup (vv. 15–17). Additionally, by alerting Philemon to his need to “perceive all the good,” Paul may be suggesting that Philemon’s in-Christ identity needs to be applied to areas beyond what it already is. In other words, Paul wants Philemon to recognize that his superordinate identity as a Christ-follower needs to apply to all aspects of his social identity as a slave owner. Finally, in v. 7, Paul follows the exhortation with a word of commendation. Here, Paul expresses his confidence that the good he and Philemon may do for Christ will be realized. Paul’s confidence rests in the fact that he himself has already “received much joy and encouragement” from Philemon’s love, because through it, “the hearts of the saints have been refreshed.” These latter words likewise point forward to the letter’s request. That is, just as Philemon’s love for the saints eventuates in their hearts being refreshed, so too, Paul will request that his own heart be similarly refreshed by Philemon’s love; Paul’s heart being none other than Onesimus (v. 20; cf. v. 12). Paul concludes the prayer by calling Philemon “my brother.” This term demonstrates the depth of their relationship and, as previously noted, underscores the fraternal bond that is central to the identity of those who belong to the Christ-movement: a fraternal bond that will later come to include Onesimus as well (v. 16). Altogether, Paul’s description of Philemon in this opening section brings to the fore the qualities he embodies as a member of the Christ-movement: qualities that portray him as an ingroup prototype. Yet, Paul also prays that Philemon would recognize that there is even more good to be done for Christ. Thus, in the following section, Paul will request that the very same virtues Philemon displays in his relationships with members of the ingroup will likewise be extended to Onesimus as well.

Paul’s Fourfold Appeal (8–22) Paul transitions into the body of the letter with the words “for this reason” or “therefore” (dio). By this, he intends to apply what was said of Philemon’s in-Christ identity to the matter at hand. In other words, the qualities described of Philemon in vv. 4–7 are the very qualities upon which Paul will make his request and base his appeal on behalf of Onesimus (Bird, 138). His fourfold appeal largely centers on the primary challenge of the letter: to have Philemon come to see Onesimus as a member of the ingroup. In order to accomplish this task, Paul will have to rehabilitate and

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recategorize Onesimus by transforming his slave social identity and, at the same time, transform his relationship with his slave master from one that is “me” and “you” to “us” (Tucker, 413). Throughout this section, Paul can be seen to be functioning as an entrepreneur of identity. (8–11) Rehabilitating Onesimus’s Identity In vv. 8–9, Paul begins his appeal by describing the way in which he will make his request. Rather than appealing to his apostolic authority and commanding Philemon to “do your duty,” Paul elects to appeal to Philemon “on the basis of love,” as one who is an “old man” and “prisoner of Christ Jesus.” Thus, by allowing his identity as a “prisoner of Christ” to remain situationally salient, Paul embodies the approach he hopes Philemon will similarly follow in relation to his slave Onesimus. Namely, that Philemon’s social identity as a slave owner would remain nested under and properly informed by his in-Christ identity. In other words, although he is legally and structurally a slave owner, Paul’s goal is that Philemon would receive and relate to his Christ-following slave on the basis of love. In vv. 10–11, Paul, as an entrepreneur of identity, begins the process of recategorizing Onesimus’s identity by rehabilitating it. First, Paul describes Onesimus as his “child” and himself as Onesimus’s “father” (v. 10). The significance of this language is twofold: first, it suggests that Onesimus has become a Christ-follower during his stay with Paul. And second, by employing terms of fictive kinship, Paul begins the process of recategorizing Onesimus. As one who was formerly a member of the outgroup, Onesimus should now be viewed as a member of the ingroup. Paul’s next step is to alter Philemon’s perception of Onesimus by rehabilitating Onesimus’s tarnished reputation. Here, in a play on words, Paul describes Onesimus as, although formerly “useless,” now “useful.” Onesimus’s usefulness stems from the fact that he is now a Christfollower and thus a member of the ingroup. In other words, whereas he became useless to Philemon—presumably due the mismanagement of his domestic responsibilities—he has now become useful, as he is now a Christ-follower and has ably served Paul during his stay with him. Thus, he is now useful to both Paul and Philemon. The rehabilitation of Onesimus’s identity likewise issues forth an implicit challenge to Philemon. That is, Philemon will now have to relate to Onesimus as not just a slave but a Christfollower. For this to occur, the process of self-categorization will have to happen (Tucker, 423). In Philemon’s dealings with Onesimus, his identity as Onesimus’s slave owner must remain properly nested under and informed by his in-Christ identity. In other words, Philemon’s in-Christ identity is to shape his identity as a slave owner, which involves his treatment of and dealings with his Christ-following slave, Onesimus. (12–16) Recategorizing Onesimus’s Identity In this section, Paul continues his appeal by continuing the process of recategorizing Onesimus’s identity. Based on the fact that Onesimus is now a Christ-follower and thus useful, Paul informs Philemon that he is sending Onesimus back to him. Yet, Paul qualifies his statement in that he is not just sending anyone; rather, in sending Onesimus, Paul is sending “my own heart, back to you” (v. 12). Describing Onesimus as “my own heart” recalls the language Paul used to describe the way Philemon’s love refreshed the hearts of the saints (vv. 4, 7). Thus, what Paul is calling Philemon to do is to receive and care for Onesimus in the same way that Philemon would love and care for the hearts of any one of the saints, and so, Paul’s own heart.

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In vv. 13–14, Paul describes the reason for sending Onesimus back. Although he would have preferred to have Onesimus stay with him (v. 13), in keeping with his approach throughout, Paul elects to return Onesimus to Philemon so as to do “nothing without your consent” and “in order that your good deed might be voluntary and not something forced” (v. 14). Based on these words, two points of observation must be noted: first, the language of the latter part of v. 14 recalls that of v. 6 whereby Paul spoke of the good that he and Philemon might do for Christ. Thus, in sending Onesimus back to Philemon, Paul hopes that Philemon will do the good deed that Philemon has been called to do. And, as the immediate context suggests, this includes the possibility that at some point in the future Philemon might consider sending Onesimus back to Paul. Second, the language of v. 14 also assumes the continuing validity of Philemon’s social identity as a slave owner. Paul’s request implies that Onesimus could not simply return to Paul of his own accord; rather, as Onesimus’s slave owner, this decision will remain Philemon’s both at present and in the future (McKnight, 93). In v. 15, however, Paul distances himself from the above request and suggests an alternative reason for Philemon and Onesimus’s separation: “Perhaps this is the reason he was separated from you for a while, so that you might have him back forever.” The word “perhaps” (tacha) is used here to express an alternative possibility that is underscored by the verb “separated” (chōridzō). This verb, however, has been variously understood. One option is to understand its voice as active, which supports the theory that Onesimus fled of his own accord; thus, “he went away” (Arzt-Grabner, 124). It is more likely, however, that this verb is to be understood as passive in voice. This suggests that the one responsible for their separation is open to question, and thus it is possible that both Philemon and Onesimus are to blame for the breach in their relationship. Yet, it is more likely that the use of the passive here would be in reference to a divine passive. In other words, Paul ultimately attributes the separation of Philemon and Onesimus to God’s providence: there was an eternal purpose behind it (Dunn, 333). Most likely, this eternal purpose would be in view of Onesimus’s salvation and the subsequent reconciliation of Philemon and Onesimus. Thus, as Paul puts it, all of this has happened so that Philemon might have Onesimus back forever, yet, in a way different than before. In v. 16, then, Paul further explicates the divine intention behind their separation and describes the way in which he hopes that Philemon will have Onesimus back: “No longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother.” The meaning of Paul’s words here is hotly debated and thus requires some consideration. One approach is to take the translation of the NRSV as offered above and understand Paul’s request to be for the manumission of Onesimus (e.g., Wessels). Thus, the words “no longer as a slave” are understood to be a statement of fact. Others contend that these words are not about manumission but some level of ecclesial revolution (e.g., Wolters). One way to understand this is that Onesimus, while remaining a slave at the societal level, is not to be viewed as such at the ecclesial; rather, Onesimus is to be received as a brother or, more specifically, a “freeperson,” in relation to both Philemon’s household and the community of believers that gathers there. Thus, for the members of the Christ-movement, the slave social identity is rendered superfluous, as is presumably the slave owner social identity. Another option is to translate the particle hōs, as “as a mere,” as opposed to simply “as.” Thus, the translation would be: “No longer as a mere [italics mine] slave.” This latter option seems to fit the process of recategorization that Paul has been working toward. In this way, Onesimus’s slave social identity is not obliterated, but rather, it is transformed (Tucker, 416). Moreover, in favor of this latter 482

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approach, it is important to observe the way Paul qualifies the first part of his request. Onesimus is to be received back “no longer as a slave but more than a slave [italics mine].” The words “more than” suggest that while his existing social identity as a slave continues, it is to do so in a revalued and transformed manner. What is more, Paul further qualifies the manner in which Onesimus is to be received. Onesimus is to be received by Philemon as “a beloved brother.” The significance of Paul’s words here should not be overlooked. As a slave, Onesimus would have been deprived of kinship and thus all fraternal bonds (Glancy, 26). In applying this intragroup label to Onesimus, however, Paul flips the cultural script. Now that Onesimus is a Christ-follower, he is a member of the ingroup. Thus, he shares in the group’s common identity forged by their familial language of fictive kinship. Hence, just as the terms “beloved” and “brother” can apply to Philemon and the other members of the ingroup (cf. vv. 1, 2, 7), they now apply to Onesimus as well. Thus, although legally, socially, and structurally Onesimus would remain Philemon’s slave and Philemon his slave owner, the nature of their relationship has fundamentally changed (de Vos, 102). Above all, they are now brothers in Christ, and so Paul expects Philemon to receive Onesimus in the same way he would receive any one of the saints (cf. vv. 4, 7). The final words of v. 16 bring Paul’s second appeal to a crescendo. Paul urges Philemon to receive Onesimus as a beloved brother “both in the flesh and in the Lord.” The term “in the flesh” (en sarki) likely refers to Onesimus’s domestic relationships and responsibilities as Philemon’s slave, and “in the Lord” (en kyriō) refers to his in-Christ identity and participation in the Christmovement. However, the precise nature of Paul’s request here has been variously understood. For instance, some have taken this to be further proof that Paul was implying manumission (Wessels). Others, however, have suggested that Paul is calling Philemon to relate to Onesimus as his owner “in the flesh” and his brother “in the Lord” (Tucker, 421). While it is likely that Paul believes Onesimus’s identity as a slave is to remain situationally salient, and thus, he is not suggesting manumission, what needs to be stressed here is the radical nature of Paul’s request: that is, although Onesimus remains Philemon’s slave, Philemon is to relate to Onesimus the same way in all settings—as a brother (de Vos, 102). In other words, Philemon’s relationship with Onesimus is not to be compartmentalized in a way that distinguishes the reconciliation that has taken place in Christ. Instead, their reconciliation is to take place and thus be experienced at both the corporeal and the spiritual levels. Philemon’s relationship to Onesimus, whether as his slave owner or as his fellow co-worker, is always to be governed by their shared superordinate identity as brothers in Christ. To put it differently, Onesimus’s identity as a brother in Christ is not to be limited to a particular social setting; rather, he is to be viewed as a beloved brother “both in the flesh and in the Lord” in all settings and situations. Thus, Paul issues forth a further challenge to Philemon: Philemon is to reevaluate his own identity as a slave owner and the way in which his in-Christ identity is to inform and govern his attitude and actions as a slave owner toward his Christ-following slave. In this way, Paul’s vision for the Colossian ekklēsia starts to come into focus: a slave owner and a slave, although remaining legally, socially, and structurally different, can stand in solidarity under their shared superordinate identity as brothers in Christ. The “we” and “you” has become “us.” (17–19) Reconceptualizing Onesimus’s Identity Having rehabilitated, recategorized, and thus, transformed Onesimus’s identity, in v. 17 Paul brings the crux of his request to the fore. Paul

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introduces his request with a conditional clause: “So if you consider me your partner (koinōnion).” The fact that Paul has already established Philemon as his partner (vv. 1, 6) allows him to move to the request with confidence. Paul entreats Philemon to “welcome” Onesimus “as you would welcome me.” Paul’s request is that Philemon would not simply receive Onesimus back, but that in welcoming Onesimus back he would do so in the same way he would welcome Paul. That is, just as Paul would be welcomed by Philemon as a Christ-follower and member of the ingroup, so too should Onesimus be similarly welcomed. The corollary to Paul’s request is that if Philemon rejects Onesimus he will likewise be rejecting Paul himself. Thus, to welcome Onesimus would imply more than just reconciliation, but full restoration to the point that he is to be viewed as a prototypical member of the ingroup (McKnight, 102). In short, for Philemon to welcome Onesimus in the same way as he welcomes Paul would be to welcome Onesimus as an honored guest (de Vos, 103). To welcome Onesimus in the manner of an honored guest has significant implications for the way the recategorization of identity relates to reconceptualization of space. Critical spatial theory has shown that one’s relationship to a particular space is directly related to their experiences in that space. In recategorizing Onesimus’s identity from a slave and an outgroup member to a beloved brother and an ingroup member, Onesimus’s relationship to the space of Philemon’s house is likewise reconceptualized and transformed. In this way, Paul imagines the space of Philemon’s house according to thirdspace (reconceptualized space). Although we do not know the type of slave owner Philemon was, it is likely that Philemon’s household functioned as, at times, negative and possibly even oppressive space: a space where Onesimus was deprived of worth, dignity, and respect. By recategorizing his identity and thus reconceptualizing the space of Philemon’s house, Paul images a space that is now one of reconciliation, restoration, and in some sense, liberation for Onesimus. It is to be a space where Onesimus who, although remaining a slave, is now treated with the same dignity and respect as a beloved brother. To put it differently, Onesimus is elevated from a slave on the margins of the family to a one who is now sitting at the family table (McKnight, 95). Finally, in v. 18, Paul concludes his request. In case there was any reservation or reason for ill feelings on the part of Philemon, Paul confirms that he himself will cover the cost of any loss Philemon may have incurred as a result of Onesimus’s prior action. In fact, Paul confirms this with his own hand: “I will repay it.” At the same time, Paul reminds Philemon of the debt that Philemon owes him. What this debt entails is not clear; it is simply described as “your own self,” likely describing either Philemon’s physical or eternal well-being. Either way, it is here that for the first time in the letter Paul brings to the fore the asymmetrical nature of the relationship he has with Philemon. Paul no longer presents himself as the social equal of Philemon; rather, he highlights the asymmetrical nature of their relationship. Paul is Philemon’s patron, and he is Paul’s client (Lampe, 66). Yet, throughout the letter Paul elected not to exert his authority as Philemon’s patron; rather, he elected to forego his social prerogative and treat Philemon as an equal, just as he hopes Philemon will do in relation to Onesimus. (20–22) Refreshing Paul’s Heart Having rehabilitated, recategorized, and reconceptualized Onesimus’s identity, Paul’s wraps up the body of the letter by appealing to Philemon on his own behalf. In v. 20, Paul again refers to Philemon as “brother,” emphasizing their common ingroup identity, and he rounds off his previous request by exhorting his brother in Christ to allow him to have “this benefit from you in the Lord!” The benefit Paul speaks of is that, in all of this, 484

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Philemon would refresh his heart. The language, “Refresh my heart in Christ,” brings Paul’s overall request full circle as it evokes the language of vv. 7 and 12. In v. 7, Paul had praised Philemon as an ingroup prototype for the way he refreshed the hearts of the saints. In v. 12, Paul referred to Onesimus as “my own heart.” Thus, by welcoming Onesimus back in the way Paul has requested, Philemon will be refreshing Onesimus’s heart, and in turn, refreshing Paul’s, thus embodying the ingroup prototype. In v. 21, Paul evokes his confidence in Philemon. Having established Philemon as an ingroup prototype, Paul is confident of Philemon’s obedience. In fact, Paul’s confidence is such that he believes Philemon will do even more. What this “even more” refers to is debated. The most likely option is that Philemon would eventually allow Onesimus to return to Paul to serve with him in ministry. Another possibility is he would manumit Onesimus to serve in the context of the synagogue (Tucker, 422–23). Finally, in v. 22, Paul requests that Philemon prepare him a guest room, as he hopes to be restored to Philemon shortly. There are a number of ways to understand Paul’s request here. For instance, it is possible that Paul sought to visit Philemon only to learn how Philemon responded to his request. If Paul were to be welcomed favorably, this would indicate that his request had been met, and thus, Onesimus was being treated accordingly. It is more likely, however, that Paul, assuming his confidence in Philemon’s obedience (v. 21), sought to visit Philemon and the entire Colossian ekklēsia in order to share the hospitality that Onesimus was similarly experiencing. In this way, Paul hoped to experience firsthand his ecclesial vision for the space of Philemon’s house and the hospitality that was being experienced by members of the ingroup, even among those who were socially different.

Conclusion (23–25) Paul concludes the letter in customary fashion. He lists a number of individuals who send their greetings to Philemon and the Colossian ekklēsia. And like those listed in the letter’s introduction, these individuals are variously described, but collectively, they are members of the ingroup. Epaphras is called “my fellow prisoner,” and Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, and Luke are called “my fellow workers” (vv. 23–24). Together, these individuals stand in solidarity with those in Colossae as members of the Christ-movement. In v. 25, Paul’s closing benediction is directed at the entire congregation. Here, he focuses on the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, which both emphasizes the group’s shared experience and underscores that which they will need most as they seek to navigate and implement Paul’s request. Thus, Paul’s closing words are pertinent. In the end, it is the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ that will be the guiding principle in moving from “we” and “you” to “us.”

References Arzt-Grabner, Peter. “How to Deal with Onesimus? Paul’s Solution within the Frame of Ancient Legal and Documentary Sources.” Pages 113–42 in Philemon in Perspective:Interpreting a Pauline Letter. Edited by D. François Tolmie. BZNW 169. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2010.

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Barclay, John M. G. “Paul, Philemon and the Dilemma of Christian Slave-Ownership.” NTS 37 (1991): 161–86. Bird, Michael F. Colossians and Philemon: A New Covenant Commentary. Eugene: Cascade, 2009. Callahan, Allen Dwight. Embassy of Onesimus: The Letter of Paul to Philemon. Valley Forge: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 1997. de Vos, Craig S. “Once a Slave, Always a Slave? Slavery, Manumission and Relational Patterns in Paul’s Letter to Philemon.” JSNT 82 (2001): 89–105. Dunn, James D. G. The Epistles to the Colossians and to Philemon. NIGTC. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996. Glancy, Jennifer A. Slavery in Early Christianity. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002. Jipp, Joshua W. Saved by Faith and Hospitality. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2017. Lampe, Peter. “Affects and Emotions in the Rhetoric of Paul’s Letter to Philemon: A RhetoricalPsychological Interpretation.” Pages 61–77 in Philemon in Perspective: Interpreting a Pauline Letter. Edited by D. François Tolmie. BZNW 169. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2010. McKnight, Scot. The Letter to Philemon. NICNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2017. Nordling, John G. “Onesimus Fugitivus: A Defense of the Runaway Slave Hypothesis in Philemon.” JSNT 41 (1991): 97–119. Tucker, J. Brian. “Paul’s Particular Problem—The Continuation of Existing Identities in Philemon.” Pages 407–24 in T&T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London; New York: Bloomsbury, 2014. Weima, Jeffrey A. D. “Paul’s Persuasive Prose: An Epistolary Analysis of the Letter to Philemon.” Pages 29–60 in Philemon in Perspective: Interpreting a Pauline Letter. Edited by D. François Tolmie. BZNW 169. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2010. Wessels, G. François. “The Letter to Philemon in the Context of Slavery in Early Christianity.” Pages 143–168 in Philemon in Perspective: Interpreting a Pauline Letter. Edited by D. François Tolmie. BZNW 169. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2010. Wolter, Michael. “The Letter to Philemon as Ethical Counterpart to Paul’s Doctrine of Justification.” Pages 169–79 in Philemon in Perspective: Interpreting a Pauline Letter. Edited by D. François Tolmie. BZNW 169. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2010.

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Chapter  20

Hebrews Matthew J. Marohl

Introduction Hebrews is written to Christ-followers in crisis. While the nature of their situation is unknown to us, their continued faithfulness is at risk. It is into this context that the author tells God’s grand narrative. Jesus serves as the ultimate example of faithfulness and is described as being higher than the angels, a Son in the house of God, a high priest, and the bearer of a new covenant. While Hebrews is concerned with sustaining the faithfulness of the addressees, it is ultimately concerned with describing the faithfulness of God. God has been faithful throughout history and God will continue to be faithful in the lives of the addressees. Central to this commentary, then, is an examination of faithfulness. We will explore the faithfulness of the addressees, a faith that is in peril. Here, we will see that faithfulness serves as the primary identity marker for this ingroup of Christ-followers. The boundary between the faithful ingroup and the “unfaithful others” is rigid, with unidirectional permeability. They can lose or deny their faithfulness, but if this occurs they will no longer be welcomed members of the ingroup. To combat this danger, the faithfulness of Jesus is offered as the prototype. Readers are reminded that “because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested” (2:18). Jesus, then, typifies the normative behavior of the ingroup. Finally, while the addressees are urged to remain faithful to God, imitating the faithfulness of Jesus, it is God who is ultimately faithful. The promise of God’s faithfulness, then, provides a positive evaluation of the ingroup and helps to establish hope in God’s promised rest.

Author, Date, and Location For good reason, many discussions of the authorship, date, and location of Hebrews begin with Origen. Writing perhaps a century after our text, he notes that regarding its author “God only knows.” While we ought to be cautious not to attribute too much meaning to his words, they do reveal that the historical details of the work vanished quickly. There is nothing certain known about the author or where or when the text originated. To be sure, some interpreters still attempt to reconstruct a possible social location for the text, offering specific proposals for authorship, date, and location. Most, however, concede the historical anonymity of Hebrews. Regarding the addressees, most discussions begin with the superscription, “To [the] Hebrews.” The earliest known occurrence of this title is roughly contemporaneous with the popular saying

T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament

of Origen (ca. 200 CE). From that time on, it has been the common designation of the text. While the provenance of this name is unknown, most believe that it points to the “Jewish-Christian” identity of the addressees. Not all agree, however, on precisely what this means. For example, is Hebrews used in contrast to Greeks or gentiles? Or, is Hebrews used to indicate that the recipients were Hebrew or Aramaic speakers from Palestine rather than “Jews” from the Hellenistic world? In the end, the superscription reveals nothing certain about the addressees, and the text itself does not help modern readers to identify the location of the addressees nor does it illuminate the specific nature of their crisis. While we do not know the specific social location of either the author or the addressees of Hebrews, that need not be the end of our discussion. From the text, we are able to make a number of observations. The author describes the addressees as a group defined by their faithfulness to God. The author repeatedly draws upon Hebrew Scripture to describe the faithfulness of God and the unique roles of Jesus. And perhaps most importantly to our reading of the text, the author exhorts the addressees to remain steadfast in their faithfulness, the shared ideological characteristic of the ingroup. Furthermore, the author employs strong ingroup-outgroup language based upon their relative faithfulness (or lack of faithfulness). The boundary between the two groups does allow for movement, but it is limited. It is possible for the addressees to abandon their faithfulness and to become members of the unfaithful outgroup. However, if they do become unfaithful, they are unable to reclaim their faithfulness and resume their place as members of the ingroup.

Theological Themes Hebrews lacks the salutation typical of the other letters in the New Testament. In response, some understand Hebrews to be a letter with unique construction, while others speculate that either the opening salutation has been lost or that it is not a letter. Those who favor the later tend to understand the text as either a sermon or theological treatise. In any case, the theological themes present in the work capture the attention of all modern readers and several observations may be made. I will offer three which comprise only a sample of the claims that might be made regarding Hebrews. First, from the opening verses of Hebrews through its final chapter, the author emphasizes that Jesus is and has always been part of the ongoing story of God’s activity in the world. The importance of this theme cannot be overstated. Since the author employs comparison throughout the text, readers without an appropriate theoretical framework may be led to assume that any (or every) comparison is an intergroup comparison. For example, Jesus is compared with Moses (3:1–6). In this case, the author goes to great length to show that both are members of the same house. They are both characters in the same story of God. They do, however, occupy different roles. Within the metaphor of the house, Jesus serves as a Son and Moses as a servant. If the comparison is incorrectly understood to represent an intergroup comparison (incorrectly assuming that Jesus represents “Christianity” and Moses represents “Judaism”), not only do Jesus and Moses take on the erroneous position as figureheads of an ingroup and outgroup, they represent two opposing stories of God. The author of Hebrews leaves no room for this mistake,

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instead working to thoroughly emphasize that Jesus is central to God’s ongoing story and has been since the creation of the world. Second, Hebrews presents faithfulness in terms of a relationship. The author repeatedly emphasizes that God is faithful, that God makes and keeps promises. God has proven to be present and active throughout history. In turn, the author points to the faithfulness of a great cloud of witnesses. In each case, their faithfulness is described in terms of an abiding trust in God’s promise. In other words, God’s faithfulness toward creation invites faithfulness in response. Throughout the text, Jesus is lifted up as the ultimate example of faithfulness. He serves as the prototype of this trust, and the addressees are urged to follow his example. Hebrews indicates that the addressees are living in a time of crisis or suffering and that their trust in God’s promises, their faithfulness, is at risk. As they are urged to remain faithful, their faithfulness is always presented in terms of an active relationship with God. Third, the faithfulness of the addressees is a continuation of the long line of faithfulness shown by God’s people throughout history. For modern readers, the many positive descriptions of the faithfulness of Judeans throughout history may seem to stand at odds with the depiction of Jesus as the prototype of faithfulness. Worded differently, modern readers may mistakenly imagine different and competing forms of faithfulness, a “Judean faithfulness” and a “Christian faithfulness.” The author of Hebrews, however, is committed to integrating the faithfulness of the addressees into the long history of faithfulness present in God’s divine narrative. Even as Jesus is central to the ongoing story of God’s activity in the world, the faithfulness of the addressees is joined with the many generations of past faithful witnesses. With Jesus, however, the faithfulness of God’s people has changed. Jesus is now the exemplar, the pioneer and perfecter of faith (12:1). This identity of the addressees is clearly defined and affirmed throughout the text. In following Jesus, the Son of the house, the addressees are a part of God’s timeless faithful.

Social Identity Approach The author of Hebrews weaves together two strands creating a dynamic whole. The first strand is a description of Jesus unlike any other in the New Testament. The second strand is a sustained exhortation urging the addressees to hold fast to their social identity. The two strands are never more closely braided than when Jesus is lifted up as the prototype for the ingroup social identity. Jesus is the pioneer and perfecter of faith and serves as the ultimate model of faithfulness for a group of addressees living in crisis. As the author moves between descriptions of Jesus and warnings to the addressees, a great variety of comparisons are used. The faithfulness of the ingroup is compared with the unfaithfulness of others. Jesus is compared to Moses. The author compares priesthoods and covenants. Even the author’s description of God’s activity in the world includes comparison: God had previous spoken through prophets, but now speaks through a Son (1:1). With a text that so heavily relies upon a variety of forms of comparison, an appropriate conceptual framework is required. This commentary will introduce a culturally sensitive reading of the text by employing a social identity approach. For a thorough reading of the text, however, we will look beyond the many examples of comparison. Through the lens of cognitive blending theory, we will examine the way that the author repeatedly blends two distinct elements in the

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creation of something new (i.e., the author blends the multiple identities of the addressees, for they are at once both descendants of Abraham and followers of Christ). We will also explore how the author describes ingroup boundaries. We will consider how faithfulness is held up as the ultimate ingroup norm. Worded simply and bluntly, it is the faithfulness of the addressees that is both their defining group characteristic and is at risk of being lost. We will notice how the author creates a thoughtful and nuanced use of prototypicality. While Jesus is the ultimate example of faithfulness, other exemplars of faithfulness are also identified. By presenting a wide range of faithful individuals, the author creates a sort of “faithfulness continuum.” By placing the faithfulness of Moses very close to that of Jesus, the author is then able to encourage the addressees to hold fast to their faithfulness and follow the examples of the many who populate the great cloud of faithful witnesses. Throughout the text, the social identity of the addressees is defined by their faithfulness. In turn, we will witness a devaluation of others who have been unfaithful. In the end, a social identity approach will reveal a work with two strands thoroughly intertwined. We will encounter a unique and powerful depiction of the faithful Jesus and a dynamic group of Christ-followers who are called upon to maintain their faithfulness.

Structure Hebrews moves freely between descriptions of Jesus and calls for the addressees to maintain their faithfulness. The two are, of course, inseparable. Jesus is the ultimate example of faithfulness, modeling a faithfulness that did not waiver even in his suffering. Because the author moves between two distinct but necessarily related themes, any division of the text is artificial. With that said, I will follow a very basic outline for Hebrews, as will be evident in the headings in the commentary below. The thirteen chapters of the work will be divided into nineteen sections; the transitions between each will follow major shifts in theme.

Commentary God’s Ongoing Activity and the Identity of the Addressees (1:1–14) From the opening verses of Hebrews, the author emphasizes that the identity of the addressees is grounded in God’s ongoing activity in the world. Three tasks are accomplished in ch. 1. First, the author makes a claim about God. God’s speech, God’s commitment to and interaction with the world, continues. Second, the author makes a claim about Jesus. Jesus is and always has been a part of God’s grand narrative. Third, the author makes a claim about the social identity of the addressees. This is their story. God spoke to their ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets. In these last days, God spoke to them by a Son. Conceptual blending theory, a theory under the broad umbrella of social identity theory, serves as an appropriate theoretical framework to better understand each claim.

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Conceptual blending theory describes the cognitive process that occurs when two or more mental spaces interact and new meaning is assigned to the sum of their parts. Let’s begin with an example. Colleges and universities in the United States routinely employ the designation, “student-athlete.” But what is the cognitive process that is involved in understanding this identity designation? In this case, there are two mental spaces called input spaces. The first is that of “student.” The second is that of “athlete.” In this case, both mental spaces represent a personal identity marker. And in both cases, prototypes are available. We may speak about the prototypical characteristics of a student (e.g., enrolled in classes and active in classroom or online learning). We may also speak about the prototypical characteristics of an athlete (e.g., a member of a team or a participant in an individual sport). Once we have identified the input spaces (in this case there are two, but there could be more), we identify a generic space that contains known and shared structural information. Referring again to the example of student-athlete, the known structural information present in the generic space might be that of “individual enrolled an academic institution” (e.g., to be both a student and an athlete one must be enrolled in a college or university) and “participant in a campus supported organized activity” (e.g., to be a student one must participate in courses and to be an athlete must participate in a school sanctioned sport). Finally, the blend space contains information from the input spaces that is integrated to form new meaning. In our case, the “student” input space and the “athlete” input space are integrated to create something new, the “student-athlete.” The example of the student-athlete is particularly helpful because it invites us to consider how such an identity marker might function within an ingroup of student-athletes. On one hand, the integration of the two input spaces might make perfect sense. For most student-athletes, there is nothing strange about this social identity. They work hard in both the classroom and on the playing field. However, it might also be the case that this blended identity requires explanation and reinforcement. Teachers, coaches, or fellow student-athletes may be required to support this new social identity. “You are a student-athlete, you must both study and practice!” Similarly, this example is helpful because is also invites us to consider how the identity marker may be understood (or misunderstood) by those outside of the group. Again, the designation might seem obvious. That an individual is able to perform at a high level as a student-athlete might seem perfectly reasonable. However, others may feel that the two input spaces do not share any structural information. For example, some may believe that to be academic necessarily means to be clumsy or weak. Or, that athletes are strong in body but not in mind. (1:1) Conceptual blending theory helps to describe the cognitive process involved in each of the author’s three claims in ch. 1 of Hebrews. First, God’s story is a single, unified narrative. God’s previous speech through the prophets may be understood to be a first input space. God’s recent speech through a Son may be understood to be a second input space. The generic space contains the known structural information that God does indeed speak. The author of Hebrews emphasizes a blended space. To understand God’s speech through only the prophets is insufficient. Likewise, to understand God’s speech through only the Son is inadequate. God’s speech is a narrative including both the prophets and the Son in a single, ongoing story. (1:2–3) Next, the author highlights that Jesus is and always has been part of God’s grand narrative. In this case, God’s recent speech through a Son serves as a first input space. The

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addressees are invited to recall the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. However, Jesus was also present and active since the creation of the worlds (1:2). This eternal presence of Jesus serves as a second input space. The generic space contains the known structural information that Jesus plays a role in God’s divine story. Again, the author emphasizes a blended space. To limit Jesus to his earthly experience is insufficient. Likewise, to understand Jesus only as a cosmic, eternal presence is inadequate. Rather a blended understanding of Jesus is required. He is and always has been an ongoing presence in God’s narrative. Furthermore, Jesus plays the primary role in God’s narrative. The author explains that he is seated at the right hand of the Majesty on high (1:3) and is superior to the angels (1:4–14). Finally, the author makes a claim regarding the social identity of the addressees. To be sure, God’s story is their story. Long ago, God spoke to their ancestors by the prophets. In these last days, God has spoken to them by a Son. For modern readers, however, this tends to raise questions. Are they “Jewish?” Are they “Christian?” What does it mean to be “Jewish-Christian?” Returning to cognitive blending theory, God’s speech through the prophets may serve as a first input space. This reference invites the addressees to consider the long history of the faithfulness of their ancestors, a history that the author tells through a great cloud of witnesses. God’s speech through a Son may serve as a second input space. This reference invites the addressees to consider their faithfulness, a faithfulness that finds its ultimate expression in Jesus. The generic space contains the known structural information that God calls people to live lives of faithfulness. The author again emphasizes a blended space. To limit their understanding of faithfulness to the great cloud of witnesses is insufficient. Likewise, to understanding faithfulness only through the example of Jesus is inadequate. Rather, a blended understanding of faithfulness is necessary for the formation and maintenance of the social identity of the addressees. They are people for whom God has always spoken, a people whose ancestors make up a great cloud of faithful witnesses. In addition, they are a people for whom Jesus is the pioneer and perfecter of faith. These are not two separate claims, but are a blended reality.

Warning against Drifting Away from Faithfulness, the Addressees’ Primary Identity Marker (2:1–4) With the opening words of ch. 2, the author returns to the intimate language of speaking and listening. It has been declared that God had spoken to their ancestors through the prophets and that in the last days God has spoken to them through a Son. Now, they are urged to pay greater attention to what they have heard so that they do not drift away from it. Within this short section, four themes are introduced. In every case the themes are only alluded to briefly, but each will be developed in greater detail later in the work. (2:1) First, the author points to some kind of crisis. It is not possible to discern the specific nature of the trouble faced by the addressees (nor will it be at any point in Hebrews), but it is evident that the author understands the faithfulness of the addressees to be at risk. Later in this chapter, Jesus will be held up as the prototype of one who remained faithful during times of suffering (2:18). By contrast, the wilderness generation will be depicted as the prototype of the ones who possessed

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evil and unbelieving hearts while being tested (3:7–19). This is the first of many references to the crisis faced by the addressees. (2:2) Second, the author indicates that it is possible to drift away from one’s faithfulness. While it is not fully developed here, this idea will be picked up again and again in Hebrews. We will find that all faithfulness is described in relation to the ultimate, prototypical faithfulness of Jesus. While he is the perfecter of faith, the faithfulness of all others may be understood to be closer or further from his example. In addition, faithfulness will be described in dynamic terms. It is not fixed or static, but is an ingroup norm and behavior that requires constant care and attention. Because faithfulness is described throughout Hebrews as the primary ideological characteristic of the ingroup (e.g., “We are God’s faithful”), drifting away from faithfulness also means drifting away from the ingroup. (2:3) Third, the author juxtaposes salvation with penalty. In this case, and throughout Hebrews, salvation is the promised future for the faithful addressees. While salvation will be variously described—sometimes being referred to as the promised rest—it is always understood to be the forthcoming result of faithfulness. However, if faithfulness is neglected, the forthcoming result is penalty. In the next chapter, the consequence of the disobedience of the wilderness generation is prohibition from the promised rest (3:18). It is not only faithfulness, then, that differentiates the ingroup of Christ-followers from the unfaithful others, it is also the result of faithfulness that differentiates the ingroup from outgroup others. The ingroup will experience the promised rest, while the unfaithful will be prohibited from this salvation. The promise of salvation will, in turn, be used to present a positive evaluation of the ingroup even in the midst of their experience of crisis. (2:4) Fourth, the promise of salvation and the call to faithfulness was first declared through the Lord, but the author reminds the addressees that they have encountered this message in a variety of ways. Through signs, miracles, and wonders and through gifts of the Holy Spirit, the addressees have be assured of God’s promised rest. That God’s promise comes through a variety of individuals and in a variety of forms is important to the message of Hebrews. The addressees will be encouraged to consider the example of previous generations of faithful witnesses and will be exhorted to follow the leaders in the midst (13:7). For the author of Hebrews, God’s ongoing story is heard through many voices and experienced in many ways.

Jesus as the Prototype of Faithfulness in Crisis and the Pioneer of Salvation (2:5–18) As the opening verses of ch. 2 bring to mind the opening verses of the first chapter—drawing upon the acts of speaking and listening—the author here again returns to images from the previous chapter. For a second time, the role and authority of Jesus is compared to that of angels. In ch. 1, Jesus is pictured at the right hand of the Majesty on high (1:3), having become superior to the angels (1:4). In ch. 2, the addressees are reminded that while Jesus was made for a little while lower than the angels, this position was temporary. Jesus was again crowned with glory

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and honor. For the author of Hebrews, the movement of Jesus from glory to being lower than the angels and back to glory is central to the depiction of his faithfulness in the midst of suffering and the salvation that is made possible through his death. (2:9) After explaining that Jesus had been made lower than the angels, the author makes a direct link between his return to glory and his suffering. This will be the reoccurring theme throughout the work. Faithfulness in the midst of suffering is rewarded with salvation, the promised rest, and glory and honor. In this case, Jesus is the prototype for faithfulness in the midst of suffering. However, the author is quick to move beyond Jesus as simply an example of faithfulness in crisis. It is explained that he “might taste death for everyone” (2:9). With this declaration, the addressees receive the promise of salvation. Jesus has conquered death. This declaration serves several purposes. Besides the obvious good news of salvation, it assigns a positive evaluation of both the ingroup—they are the recipients of salvation; and of their suffering—they do not suffer alone nor is their suffering in vain. The author makes the same claim two more times, each time building upon the image. (2:10–11) With the second declaration, the author identifies Jesus as the “pioneer of salvation” who was made “perfect through suffering” (2:10). Moreover, the creator God brings many children to glory through the suffering of Jesus. With this second declaration that the faithful suffering of Jesus brings him glory and achieves salvation for many, the author includes new and intimate language for the relationship between Jesus and his followers. Since they share “one Father . . . Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters” (2:11). There could be no more powerful identity descriptor than “sibling of Christ.” The addressees are reassured that Jesus is at once both the pioneer of their salvation and a member with them in God’s family. (2:17–18) The third declaration, while following a similar pattern as the previous two, again offers something new. Since the children of God, including Jesus, share flesh and blood, his death destroys all death. This means that all of the children of God are freed from the fear of death. This declaration is meant to give a positive evaluation of the ingroup in the midst of their suffering. Regardless of the nature of their crises, even if it should result in death, they ought to maintain their faithfulness knowing that the power of death has been destroyed. And who are the recipients of this promise? The author declares that this work was done not for angels, but for the descendants of Abraham. As was made clear in the opening verses of Hebrews, the addressees understood themselves to live in a blended space, integrating the faithfulness and witness of their ancestors with the faithfulness and witness of Jesus. In short, they are both the descendants of Abraham and the brothers and sisters of Jesus in every respect (2:17). Because of the closeness of this relationship, Jesus is able to serve as a model of faithfulness. This section concludes with the declaration that “because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested” (2:18).

Moses and Jesus and the Faithfulness Continuum (3:1–6) Immediately after reassuring the addressees that Jesus is able to help those who are tested in suffering, the focus turns to a comparison between Jesus and Moses. The nature of this transition has led some to assume that the comparison must be between examples of faithfulness and

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unfaithfulness in times of crisis. Similarly, some have argued that the comparison must be between two existing, contemporaneous groups (e.g., “Christians” and “Jews”) or between two competing “theological systems.” The author, however, never employs the type of us/them language that we would expect when groups are compared. More significantly, the faithfulness of Moses is never depicted in a negative way. So, why would the author compare faithfulness with faithfulness? Helpful in this discussion is the theory of prototypicality, a social psychological theory under the broad umbrella of social identity theory. The theory of prototypicality is based upon the observation that categories vary in their relative inclusiveness. For example, kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, and species are categories that decrease in their relative inclusiveness. Moreover, within each category, members tend to vary in their typicality. For those living in the United States, an eagle may be thought to be more typical of the category of “bird” than an ostrich or an emu. Categories, then, often have an internally graded structure. Rather than all members within a category possessing an even level of a shard attribute, they are understood to stand in relationship to the presumed category prototype, or best example of the category. Category membership, then, requires a certain level of similarity to the prototype. There is also an intergroup dimension to the discussion of prototypicality. The more group members differ from outgroup members and the less they differ from other ingroup members, the more they will be perceived as prototypical of the group. The theory of prototypicality proves helpful in understanding the comparison between Jesus and Moses because it offers a theoretical framework for understanding the author’s assessment of a shared attribute, that of faithfulness. Jesus was faithful in suffering and temptation and is held up as the ultimate expression of faithfulness. He is the prototype. However, Moses is also described as having been faithful in suffering. He is, therefore, close in proximity to the group prototype. To reinforce the connection between Jesus and Moses, the author uses the image of a house. Jesus is the faithful Son in God’s house, while Moses is a faithful servant in that very house. Returning to the language of prototypicality, they are members of the same category. While they do not possess an even level of a shared attribute (i.e., faithfulness), they enjoy close proximity. The addressees have previously been described as both “brothers and sisters” of Jesus (2:11) and “descendants of Abraham” (2:16). Now, they are encouraged to imagine themselves within the same house as both Jesus and Moses. In their time of crisis, they are invited to look to the ultimate example of faithfulness, the prototype of faithfulness, Jesus. However, they are also invited to look to the faithfulness of Moses. Because he is described as having been faithful through suffering, he is close to the prototype of faithfulness and a strong example in their time of need.

The Wilderness Generation as the Prototype for Unfaithfulness (3:7–19) (3:8–10) With the comparison between the faithfulness of Moses and the faithfulness of Jesus, the author of Hebrews offers two examples of strength in the face of crisis. The wilderness generation, in sharp contrast, serve as the prototype for unfaithfulness. Their time in the

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wilderness is described as a “rebellion” (3:8). During their wilderness wandering, they “put” God “to the test” (3:9). They were the target of God’s anger for they “always go astray in their hearts” and they do not know the “ways” of God (3:10). While the addressees were previously invited to imagine themselves in the same house as Jesus and Moses, situating their faithfulness in proximity to those great witnesses, here they are exhorted not to turn away from the living God. With this language the author establishes an outgroup counterpoint to Jesus, a prototype of unfaithfulness. Furthermore, the author makes the consequence of disobedience clear. Just as the wilderness generation were unable to enter God’s rest, those who are similarly unfaithful will be unable to enter (3:19). Three observations may be made regarding this warning. First, there is a sharp disconnect between Moses and the wilderness generation. While Moses was “faithful in all God’s house” (3:2), the wilderness generation had hardened hearts (3:8). If the vivid descriptions of each is not enough to make clear the divide, the author emphasized that Moses was “angry” with the rebellious for “forty years” (3:10). Second, it does not seem that the author is referring to an existing group. In other words, the author does not have in mind a specific unfaithful outgroup that is contemporaneous with the addressees. Rather, the author is pointing to an ancient example of rebellion to serve as an illustration of the consequence of a hardened heart. Third, the author’s reference to the wilderness wanderers is not a reference to “Judaism.” While the tendency to insert a “Jewish-Christian” polemic into the text is rare, it must be noted at every turn that this is not the intent of the author. From the description of the addressees as the descendants of Abraham to the vivid description of the faithfulness of Moses, it is evident that our author has no intention of presenting such a simplistic dichotomy. Identifying the author’s use of the wilderness generation as the prototype for unfaithfulness provides a partial description of their function within the text. For a more complete analysis of this section, it is helpful to turn to uncertainty-identity theory. Uncertainty-identity theory resides under the broad umbrella of social identity theory and points to the ways that the social identity processes associated with group membership work to reduce uncertainty. Groups may experience a wide range of uncertainty. Who are we? What should we think? How should we behave? Social identity theorists observe that the feeling of uncertainty is powerfully motivating. Moreover, clear and decisive group identification is one of the most effective ways of to reduce uncertainty. In this case, identification with a group reduces uncertainty because the individual members of the group are invited to follow a prototype that proscribes cognition, affect, and behavior. During times of uncertainty, prototypes that are unambiguous and prescriptive are more effective than those that are ambiguous and unfocused. While we do not know the specific nature of the crisis faced by the addressees of Hebrews, it is evident in the text that they are experiencing significant uncertainty. According to uncertainty-identity theory, people may identify as true believers, zealots, or fanatics where self-uncertainty is acute. Markers for such extreme group identification include very clearly defined attitudinal and behavioral attributes, impermeable boundaries, ethnocentric ingroup attitudes, and the strong discouragement of dissent. In this section, the author distinguishes between the attitudinal and behavioral attributes of the faithful and the unfaithful. Furthermore, the author describes the unfaithful in a harsh and ethnocentric manner. Regarding dissent, it is evident that the very purpose of this writing is to exhort the addressees to remain faithful and to prevent any sort of falling away or dissent. In the end, the author’s group identification with sharp 496

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contrasts between the faithfulness of the addressees and the unfaithfulness of the wilderness generation may serve to reduce the uncertainty experienced by the Christ-followers. They need not question “Who are we? What do we believe? How are we to act?” Such uncertainty is eased by unambiguous prototypes for both the faithful ingroup and the unfaithful outgroup.

The Forthcoming Rest for Those Who Remain Faithful (4:1–13) (4:1) The break at ch. 4, and indeed, the section division that I have created is artificial. The chapter begins with a word indicating the continuation of a thought—“therefore,” and not the start of something new. With that said, the author does make a change in focus. Where ch. 3 concluded with a description of the unfaithfulness of the wilderness generation and their prohibition from God’s promised rest, ch. 4 describes the forthcoming rest for those who remain faithful. For modern readers, this section may appear to be rather straightforward. It seems that the author is presenting a sort of “if-then” argument. If the addressees remain faithful, then they will enter God’s rest. The choice, or burden, seems to be theirs. The author, in turn, appears to present God’s promised rest as a goal for which to strive. Whether modern readers are aware or not, such a reading is grounded in assumptions that accompany a future temporal orientation. As a first-century Mediterranean text, Hebrews is the product of a present temporal-oriented culture. In this section, and elsewhere in the work, understanding the author’s integration of identity and time is essential. For future-oriented individuals, the present is understood as this precise moment in time. The past is that which came before and the future is everything that is to come. Future-oriented cultures tend to attribute less significance to the past than they do the future. When individuals do consider the past, it is often for reasons of nostalgia or it is mined for lessons or wisdom. If the past receives little attention, the future receives significant attention. However, future-oriented cultures have a complex relationship with what is to come. The future is believed to hold a number of possibilities, and individuals must identify their desired future and work toward that end. I say that this is a complex relationship because the future proves to be doubly problematic for future-oriented individuals. On the one hand, the future is unknowable. On the other hand, it is up to the individual to bring about their desired future. With this in mind, let us return to the text. Future-oriented readers will assume that the function of the both Jesus and Moses and the wilderness generation in the previous chapter was to offer a lesson: there are consequences for one’s faithfulness or lack thereof. Hebrews, then, was written to a group that was experiencing a crisis in the present. Finally, the author presents God’s promised rest as the most attractive future goal. The addressees, then, face a double dilemma. On the one hand, the future rest remains hypothetical (or perhaps, unknowable) until it is attained. On the other hand, the addressees are responsible for reaching that goal. Within the context of present temporal orientation, the present is not simply a moment in time but is a lapse of time that includes both the retained past and the anticipated future. For example, one might speak of the present growing season of a crop. The planting of the seed is not considered an isolated past event, but is intimately connected to what is being experienced today. Furthermore, the harvest of the crop is not an unknowable future, a goal toward which to work.

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The harvest of the crop is a forthcoming event. It is knowable, predictable. The farmer is able to anticipate this forthcoming event because of foresight. Foresight occurs when previous experiences shape one’s knowledge and expectations of what is forthcoming. In the case of the harvest, the farmer understands what is forthcoming based upon previous growing cycles. Pregnancy is another helpful example. One does not speak of conception as an isolated past event. Rather, conception is the retained past. It is intimately connected to the pregnancy. Likewise, birth is not a goal or unknowable future. Birth is forthcoming, it is the anticipated future. How does a woman know what is to come? Previous pregnancies, either her own or those of the women around her, provide foresight. Perhaps most important to the discussion of present temporal orientation is the understanding that not only is the future something that is forthcoming, it is ultimately not under the control of the individual. Storms destroy crops and not all pregnancies result in a live birth. However, such unpredictable results are not the doing (or misdoing) of the individual. Rather, they are the doing of God (or another agent outside of the control of the individual). This stands in sharp contrast to the double dilemma faced by future-oriented individuals. For present-oriented individuals, the future may be anticipated, but is ultimately outside of one’s control. It is with a present temporal orientation that Hebrews was written, and it is through this lens that it must be read. To begin, there are two types of antecedent experiences in Hebrews. First, God has spoken to the addresses through a Son (1:1–2). This is not a past event, isolated from their current experience. Rather, God’s speech is described as a continuing reality that informs the ongoing faithfulness of the addressees. Second, God spoke to the “ancestors” of the addressees “in many and various ways by the prophets” (1:1). This is not a past experience that is meant to inspire nostalgia, nor is it simply material to be mined for lessons. God’s speech to their ancestors created faithfulness. Furthermore, this faithfulness offers foresight to the addressees. The addressees know what to anticipate. Based upon past experiences, they are able to anticipate the forthcoming future for both God’s faithful and those with hardened hearts. (4:12) The experience of crisis faced by the addressees is not described as a moment in time, isolated from the past and future. Rather, just as a growing season cannot be separated from either the planting of seeds or the harvest, the addressees cannot separate their current hardship from either their antecedent experiences or their forthcoming rest. Here, we recall to the author’s use of Jesus as the prototype of faithfulness in the midst of suffering. Jesus was made lower than angels where he suffered and died, but was restored again to glory (2:9). The experiences of Jesus cannot be isolated, but must be viewed as a whole. Even in the midst of his suffering, his return to glory was forthcoming. Similarly, the addressees’ current experience of suffering cannot be isolated from their previous joy, nor can it be isolated from their forthcoming promised rest. If this rest is forthcoming, however, it is ultimately under the control of God and not the addressees. Chapter 4 begins with the acknowledgment that the “rest” is a “promise” (4:1). That the entrance into or prohibition from the promised rest is the decision of God that is emphasized throughout the section. The author explains that it was God that prohibited the wilderness generation from entering the rest (4:3). Furthermore, the “living and active” word of God will judge the “thoughts and intentions of the heart” (4:12). In the end, entrance into the promised rest is not the doing of the addressees, but is the work and promise of God. So, what are we to make of the repeated exhortation to remain faithful? If the forthcoming rest is not the work of the addressees, why does the author place such great emphasis on their 498

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faithfulness? Modern readers tend to work with an assumption of “all or nothing.” Either the promised rest is a gift of God or it is the result of the faithfulness of the addressees. Within the context of present temporal orientation, however, there is a relationship—an interplay—that is not readily apparent to future-oriented readers. Just as a farmer must constantly tend to a field and a pregnant woman must be vigilant with her health, the addressees must remain faithful. However, just as a fruitful harvest or live birth is ultimately in the hands of God, so is the promised rest. God’s rest is not a goal to be achieved, but a promise that is freely given and faithfully kept by God. In response, God’s people are to remain faithful.

Jesus as High Priest, the Prototype of Priesthood (4:14–5:10) (4:14) The author begins with the bold declaration that “we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God.” This statement is bold, of course, because at no time did Jesus ever function as a priest nor did he declare himself to function in this role. This designation is one that the author attributes to Jesus. So, how is such a declaration made? The author returns to a practice used in the opening verses of the text. Hebrews opens with three assertions that are best interpreted through the lens of cognitive blending theory (1:1–14). First, God had previously spoken through the prophets but has now spoken through a Son. These are not two competing claims or realities that are in tension with one another, but are two elements that the author blends to make one truth claim: God’s speech is an ongoing reality. Second, Jesus is described as both one who experienced the fullness of an earthly life and one who was present and active in the creation of the worlds. Again, these are not two competing claims, but are two realities that the author blends to make one truth claim: Jesus must be understood in terms of his humanity and his divinity. Finally, the author describes the addressees as both the descendants of Abraham and as followers of Christ. These two identities are not meant to cause cognitive dissonance, but are blended to create a new, single identity. With the declaration that Jesus is a great high priest, the author again blends two elements into something new. As outlined above, conceptual blending theory describes the cognitive process that occurs when two or more mental spaces interact and new meaning is assigned to the sum of their parts. To help to describe this process, I offered the modern example of “student-athletes.” In this case, there are two input spaces, that of “student” and that of “athlete.” Their common characteristics may be identified and listed in a generic space that contains their shared structural information. For example, both students and athletes must be enrolled in an academic institution. Finally, a blend space contains information from both input spaces that is integrated to form something new. The student-athlete is distinct from other students, in that they are also dedicated to practicing a sport. The student-athlete is likewise distinct from professional or amateur athletes because they are equally dedicated to academics. (5:1–9) In creating the blended image of Jesus as high priest, the author first presents a description of the high priest (5:1–4). It is important to note that this description is positive. The high priest is chosen from “among mortals,” put in “charge” of all things “pertaining to God,” and offers “sacrifices for sins” on behalf of others (5:1). The high priest deals “gently” with the “ignorant and wayward,

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since he himself is subject to weakness” (5:2). Because of his weakness, he must offer sacrifice for his own sins as well as for the sins of others (5:3). Finally, the high priest does not presume to take this honor, but takes it only when called by God (5:4). While the high priest is described in terms of possessing weakness—a weakness that requires a personal sacrifice for sins—it is this very weakness that allows him to deal gently with others. If this description of the high priests may be thought of as our first input space, the author’s description of Jesus serves as the second input space. Jesus was appointed by God (5:5–6). In the days of his flesh, he offered up prayers and supplications (5:7). Even though he was a Son, he learned obedience through suffering (5:8). Finally, having been made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him (5:9). With two evident input spaces—that of high priest and that of Jesus, there is also clear shared structural information. Both the high priest and Jesus are called and appointed by God and both are put in charge of all things pertaining to God. In addition, both the high priest and Jesus work on behalf of others, making a sacrifice for sins. If this is what is shared, it is in the blended space that we experience something new. The author blends the attributes of the high priest with the experience of Jesus, explaining that he functions for the addressees as a great high priest who, in being made perfect, is also able to serve as the source of eternal salvation. In other words, because he does not serve out of weakness, he is able to make a sacrifice for sins on their behalf. The author, then, is able to make the confident claim that “we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God” (4:14). Furthermore, “We have a [high priest] who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin” (4:15).

Ingroup Boundaries (5:11–6:8) While Hebrews does not follow a strict A/B/A/B pattern, the author does repeat and interweave themes. Chapter 3 opened with a comparison between Jesus and Moses, a comparison that emphasized that both individuals remained faithful even during times of suffering. After presenting Jesus as the prototype of faithfulness and Moses as another strong example of faithfulness during crisis, the author turned to a lengthy description of unfaithfulness. The wilderness generation were described as having hardened hearts (3:8) and as having put God to the test even though they had witnessed God’s faithfulness to them for forty years (3:9–10). The author concludes by emphasizing that they were unable to enter God’s promised rest. As if to return to the A/B pattern, the author moves to a lengthy description of Jesus, the Son of God, as a great high priest. Here, Jesus is again described as having “learned obedience through what he suffered” (5:8). Furthermore, he had been made perfect through this display of faithfulness and became the “source of eternal salvation for all who obey him” (5:9). Just as the comparison between Jesus and Moses was followed by a description of unfaithfulness, the description of Jesus as a great high priest is followed by a description of faithfulness, unfaithfulness, and ingroup boundaries. The author’s description of the wilderness generation in ch. 3 serves the purpose of describing unfaithfulness and its consequences. It does not, however, describe an existing unfaithful outgroup. In other words, the author is not pointing to an outgroup that is contemporaneous with the addressees. If the outgroup is a symbolic “other,” there are at least eight aspects of the text that indicate that the ingroup of addressees is most certainly an existing group of early Christ-followers. First, the 500

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author’s repeated use of the first-person plural, “we,” and the second-person plural, “you,” indicates a distinct social group. Second, the author describes specific ingroup behavior. For example, they are exhorted to encourage one another and care for one another (3:13, 10:24, and 12:13). Third, the addressees are warned “not to neglect to meet together” (10:25). Fourth, the author encourages the addressees to imitate the faith of their leaders (13:7). Here, the author is no longer referring to the great cloud of witnesses who serve as past exemplars of faithfulness, but is pointing to the example of faithfulness in their midst. Fifth, the author offers many, wide ranging descriptions and designations for the group. For example, the addressees are called “brothers and sisters” (3:1, 3:12, 10:19, and 13:22), “siblings [of Christ]” (2:11–12), “descendants of Abraham” (2:16), “partners in a heavenly calling” (3:1), “partners in Christ” (3:14), “the ones having faith” (4:3), “people of God” (4:9), “beloved” (6:9), the “house of Israel” (9:15), the “house of Judah” (8:8), the ones “having been called” (9:15), the ones “having been sanctified” (10:10, 14), and children (12:5). Sixth, the author refers to past experiences of the addressees that are retained and remain vital for the understanding of their identity. They are encouraged not to lay again their foundation or relearn basic teaching about Christ (6:1–2), and they are reminded that they have been enlightened (10:33). Seventh, the author makes a specific reference to the “plundering of property” (10:34). Finally, Hebrews concludes with a reference to Timothy and “those from Italy” (13:23–24). The greetings that are being sent are most certainly being sent to an existing group of Christ-followers. (5:11–6:8) Why is it so important to emphasize that while the outgroup may have been a symbolic “other,” the ingroup was an existing group? In short, the author’s vivid description of their group boundary serves two very real social purposes for a group in crisis. First, just as the primary identity marker of the ingroup is that of faithfulness, the boundary is described in terms of remaining faithful. In the midst of their suffering, the addressees are warned that they have become dull in understanding (5:11). They are likened to infants who still need milk, but ought to have already moved to solid food (5:12–14). They are therefore exhorted to go on toward perfection, moving away from the basic teachings about Christ (6:1). In short, the author emphasizes the need not only to remain faithful in the midst of suffering but to reject stagnation. Second, the boundary is described as having unidirectional permeability. In other words, if the addressees become unfaithful, and in so doing leave the group, they will not be welcomed to return. The author explains that it is “impossible to restore again to repentance those who have once been enlightened . . . and then have fallen away” (6:4–6). So grievous is the act of falling away that it is likened to “crucifying again the Son of God” and “holding him up to contempt” (6:6). Social identity theorists note that the use of clear boundary language may indeed highlight the importance of those features of the group that are most significant, in this case: faithfulness. In addition, clear and even rigid boundary language may serve to reduce ingroup uncertainty. While the language of unidirectional permeability may seem ungracious and even off-putting to modern readers, it may have served to solidify the importance of the ingroup identity.

God’s Faithfulness, the Primary Identity Marker of God (6:9–20) The author moves seamlessly from the discussion of ingroup boundaries to an emphasis on the faithfulness of God. The love and gracious work of God has been present throughout the text. 501

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For example, it was by the grace of God that Jesus tasted death for everyone (2:9). Similarly, the Holy Spirit was angry with the wilderness generation because they had put God to the test even after being the recipients of God’s works for forty years (3:9). Throughout God’s grand narrative, whether through the speech of the prophets or through the Son, God’s faithfulness has been and remains present and active. It is this faithfulness, God’s faithfulness to creation that comes into focus in ch. 6 of Hebrews. (6:9–12) The author, recognizing the directness of speech in the previous section, begins by exclaiming that “even though we speak in this way, beloved, we are confident of better things in your case, things that belong to salvation” (6:9). In other words, the addressees are not to be like failed crops that require burning (6:7–8). Their future is one of hope because God is faithful (6:10). Importantly, the faithfulness to which the addressees are called is the necessary response to God’s grace, not a prerequisite of God’s grace (6:11–12). In short, God acts with faithfulness and this faithfulness requires a response. God acted with faithfulness toward the wilderness generation and in response they tested God. Now, God is acting with faithfulness toward the addressees, and they are being called upon to maintain their response of faithfulness. (6:13–30) The relationship between God and Abraham is offered as an example of the relationship between God’s faithfulness and the call to respond with faithfulness toward God. The author explains that God made a promise to Abraham (6:13). The use of “promise” language is particularly helpful for understanding the dynamics of faithfulness in Hebrews. Faithfulness is best understood in terms of promises made and the corresponding trust in the one who makes the promise. In other words, God makes promises, and God’s people are called upon to trust in both God and in the promise. In turn, God’s promise is described as faithfulness to creation, and the corresponding trust of God’s people is described as faithfulness to God. In the case of Abraham, having received God’s promise he patiently endured, and in so doing he obtained the promise (6:15). In other words, God acted first. God delivered a promise. Abraham acted second and in response to God, he endured (i.e., remained faithful to God’s promise). After the example of Abraham, the author affirms the unchangeable character of God (6:17) and explains that this necessarily produces hope. Through the lens of future temporal orientation (the perspective of many modern readers), hope is often thought of in terms of a yearning for a desired, but unguaranteed, future outcome. For example, “I hope that I land that job!” In sharp contrast, the present temporal orientation of the addressees produces a very different understanding of hope. Hope is the feeling of confidence, or surety that is the result of a promise. For example, “Because God has promised us rest, we are filled with hope.” It is this very understanding of hope that is evident in the text. The author concludes, “We have hope, a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul” (6:19). This hope is only possible after one receives a promise and is only possible when one expresses trust in or faithfulness to that promise.

Jesus and Melchizedek and the Priesthood Continuum (7:1–28) The hope experienced by the addressees—a confidence that comes as the result of faithfully receiving the gracious promises of God—enters the Holy of Holies. In this place, the addressees 502

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encounter Jesus, a forerunner on their behalf (6:20). The author of Hebrews has previously identified Jesus as a great high priest (4:14–5:10), but now builds upon this description by placing him in the order of “King Melchizedek of Salem, priest of the Most High God” (7:1). For so little known about Melchizedek, there are certainly a wide range of theories regarding the nature of his identity. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that precisely because there is so little known, a wide range of proposals have been offered. Melchizedek only appears briefly in Genesis and the Psalms; however, it is not uncommon to hear him described as a Christophany or that he is an archetype for Jesus. While the description of Melchizedek in Hebrews is important, the author uses this in support of the developing description of Jesus as a great high priest. In other words, the discussion of Melchizedek is secondary to and in service of the presentation of Jesus as priest. (7:1–10) In Genesis, Melchizedek is described as “king of Salem” and the “priest of the most high God” (Gen 14:18–20). Psalm 110 declares that “you are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek” (Ps. 110:4). Hebrews, however, adds significantly to these scant details. The author declares that his name means “king of righteousness,” that he is “without father, mother; without genealogy, having neither beginning of days nor end of life,” and that he resembles the Son of God, for he remains a priest forever (7:2–3). After this elevated description, our author offers a retelling of the Genesis account emphasizing the tithe given to Melchizedek by Abraham. The significance of this action is in its timing. While the descendants of Levi who receive the priestly office also collect tithes, they do so after the Melchizedek offering. In fact, “one might say that Levi himself, who receives tithes, paid tithes through Abraham, for he was still in the loins of his ancestor when Melchizedek met him” (7:9). In short, the tithe collected by Melchizedek is evidence of his primacy. Considering the full description of Melchizedek, three observations may be made. First, Melchizedek is never presented as superior to Jesus or as a model that Jesus was meant to imitate. In fact, the one time that the two are compared, Melchizedek is described as “resembling the Son of God” and not the other way around (7:3). Second, Melchizedek is described as serving as a high priest. All priests, including Melchizedek, are put in charge of things pertaining to God. The priesthood of Jesus, however, functions differently from all other priests including Melchizedek. Third, the theory of prototypicality provides a structure to better understand the multiple comparisons within this short section. Jesus is presented as the prototype of a great high priest. As we will see below, he is able to perform the role free from the weakness of sin. Melchizedek, however, only resembles the Son of God. While being described in highly elevated terms and is lifted up as a faithful exemplar of priesthood, he does not represent its ultimate expression. Similarly, all other high priests are grouped together and placed in proximity to Jesus. While their limitations are identified—limitations due to their mortality and sinfulness—they are described in positive terms. In other words, the priesthood of Melchizedek and the service of all other high priests are described in close proximity to the prototypical priesthood of Jesus. (7:11–28) The author of Hebrews has previously described Jesus a great high priest, one that is superior to all other priests (4:14–5:10). Here, the author builds the case for the superiority of the priesthood of Jesus. To begin, “Former priests were many in number, because they were prevented by death from continuing in office” (7:23). Jesus, however, “holds his priesthood permanently” (7:24). As an eternal priest, Jesus is “able for all time to save those who approach God through

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him, since he always lives to make intercessions for them” (7:25). Next, Jesus is described as “holy, blameless, undefiled, separated from sinners and exalted above the heavens” (7:26). The argument for the superiority of the priesthood of Jesus concludes by repeating the observations in ch. 4. While other high priests “need to offer sacrifices day after day, first for his own sins and then for those of the people” (7:27; cf. 5:2–3), Jesus did “once for all when he offered himself ” (7:27; cf. 5:8). For the author of Hebrews, this is the central thesis regarding the priesthood of Jesus: Jesus did what no other priest was capable of doing, he offered himself for the sins of the addressees.

A New Covenant, a Heavenly Covenant Given through Jesus’s Eternal Priesthood (8:1–13) (8:1–7) One cannot separate the author’s presentation of Jesus as a great high priest from his work as the mediator of a new covenant. The opening verses of ch. 8 make clear that the relationship between priesthood and covenant is a three-step process. First, in contrast to earthly priests, Jesus is a high priest that is seated at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens (8:1). Second, every high priest is appointed to offer gifts and sacrifices. Jesus, therefore, must also have something to offer (8:3). Third, earthly priests worship in a sanctuary that is a sketch and shadow of the heavenly one. Their offerings and sacrifices, in turn, are necessarily limited (8:4–5). But Jesus, the heavenly priest, has obtained a more excellent ministry and to that degree is the mediator of a better covenant (8:6–7). The argumentation used by the author emphasizes again that that which is earthly is limited and that which is heavenly is perfect. For example, earthly priests are limited by death and the weakness of sin, whereas Jesus is both blameless and eternal. In short, the author is comparing an eternal priesthood with a finite priesthood, a heavenly covenant with an earthly covenant. It is critical, here, to make what may seem an obvious observation. Not all comparisons are intergroup comparisons. If a reader mistakenly assumes that the comparison between covenants is meant to be a comparison between competing social groups, they might also conclude that this section emphasizes one group over another. Namely, one might come to the erroneous conclusion that the first (and faulted) covenant represents “Judaism” while the second (and better) covenant offered by Jesus represents “Christianity.” Such a reading is simply not supported by the text. To best understand the comparisons within this section, it is helpful to employ the theory of prototypicality. In the previous chapter, the author described Jesus as the prototypical high priest, while Melchizedek and all earthly priests were described in relation to Jesus. Jesus, then, is the prototype precisely because he is separated from sinners and exalted above the heavens (7:26). As a heavenly priest, he is able to offer himself as a sacrifice. While Melchizedek is described as being without father or mother, he himself is not a sacrifice for sin. Therefore, he is close in proximity to the prototype, but is not the ultimate exemplar of priesthood. Similarly, earthly priests are close in proximity to the prototype for they are put in charge of things pertaining to God. However, because they are prevented by death from continuing in office and because they must offer sacrifices for their sins as well as for the sins of others, they are also not the

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ultimate expression of priesthood. Imagine a sort of “priesthood continuum.” Jesus is the ultimate example, the prototype, of a great high priest. Melchizedek and all other earthly priests may be plotted near the prototype. In this chapter, the author describes the high priestly offering of Jesus as the prototypical covenant, while the previous covenant is described in relation to that of Jesus. The covenant of Jesus is the ultimate example of the promise of God because it originates in heaven. Jesus is an eternal priest with a seat in heaven and, therefore, his priestly offering is from above. The previous covenant, while a gift of God, remained in the domain of the earthly priests and earthly sanctuaries. Further, if earthly sanctuaries are considered a shadow of a heavenly sanctuary, the corresponding earthly covenant is a shadow of the heavenly one. Therefore, just as we might positively imagine the variety of priesthoods standing in relation to Jesus, the prototypical high priest, we might also imagine the previous covenant in relation to the new covenant of Jesus.

Earthly and Heavenly Sanctuaries and the Sanctuary Continuum (9:1–22) With a lengthy description of earthly and heavenly sanctuaries, the author offers the third of three sets of comparisons. First, Jesus as great high priest was compared with mortal high priests (4:14–5:10) and with the priesthood of Melchizedek (7:1–28). Second, the new covenant of Jesus was compared with the earlier, inferior covenant (8:1–13). Finally, earthly and heavenly sanctuaries are compared. In each case, the author makes the same claim: the heavenly is superior to the earthly. Jesus is the ultimate example of priesthood, the prototypical high priest, for he reigns forever and offers himself as a sacrifice for sins. The covenant that is initiated by Jesus is superior to the previous covenant because it is the gift, the offering of the heavenly high priest. Now, not surprisingly, the author declares that the heavenly sanctuary of Jesus is superior to the earthly sanctuary of mortal priests. (9:1–14) A striking feature of this section is that the author describes the sanctuary of the tent, rather than the Temple of Jerusalem. While some have speculated that this may be an indicator of the date of Hebrews—perhaps that the temple has been destroyed—it remains unclear why the author emphasizes the tent. What is clear is that the tent, the product of the first covenant, is described in positive, yet limited terms. It was the place where faithful worship occurred. However, the worship was led by priests, weakened by mortality and sin. In short, these priests functioned with a limited covenant in an earthly sanctuary. In sharp contrast, the author describes Jesus as the great high priest who came through a perfect tent (not made with hands, that is, not of this creation), entering “once for all into the Holy Place, not with the blood of goats or calves, but with his own blood, thus obtaining eternal redemption” (9:12). The comparison is, as it is throughout this set of three comparisons, between the earthly and the heavenly. The theory of prototypicality has served as an appropriate lens through which to read the first two sets of comparisons and is again helpful with the author’s contrast between the two sanctuaries. It is helpful, for it again offers a method for interpreting the comparison between two elements that are both positively described. The heavenly sanctuary, one not made by hands, is

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offered as the prototypical space for the worship of God. It is the ultimate example of a sanctuary, for it hosts the once-and-for-all sacrifice of Jesus. The earthly tent is described in positive terms, but with limitations. The tent, a product of the first covenant, is the location of faithful worship, but the worship of mortal priests who must make sacrifices for their sins along with the sins committed unintentionally by the people (9:7). If we have previously imagined a “priesthood continuum” and have understood the two covenants to be in a positive relationship with one another (one as prototype and one as faithfully made, but limited), the same is true with the two sanctuaries. In what we might conceive of as a “better-best” relationship, the heavenly sanctuary is the ultimate location for the worship of the living God.

Christ’s Sacrifice, the Culmination of Three Sets of Comparisons (9:23–10:18) (9:23–28) The description of Christ’s sacrifice is a continuation of the previous set of three comparisons, that of priests, covenants, and sanctuaries. The author begins by again describing the earthly sanctuary as a sketch of the one in heaven (cf. 8:5). Because it is an imperfect approximation, the heavenly sanctuary requires a better sacrifice. It is this sacrifice to which Hebrews now turns. “As Jesus entered heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God on our behalf ” (8:24), he did not need to repeat sacrifices as do mortal priests. Where the author has previously emphasized that earthly high priests must repeat sacrifices because they are made both for their own sins and for the sins of others (5:2–3; 7:27; and 9:7), the explanation here focuses on the sacrifice itself. The author explains that “the high priest enters the Holy Place year after year with blood that is not his own” (9:25). Jesus, in contrast, “appeared once for all at the end of the age to remove sin by the sacrifice of himself ” (9:26; cf. 9:12). The author concludes with an observation that is new to Hebrews: “Just as it is appointed for mortals to die once, and after that the judgement, so Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin, but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him” (9:27–28). This will become a significant observation later in the work, as the author urges the addressees to remain faithful in their suffering to persevere, to “eagerly wait for him.” (10:1–10) After comparing the earthly sanctuary and the repeated sacrifices necessary there with the heavenly sanctuary and Christ’s one-time sacrifice of himself, the author makes a similar move with the law. The author notes that the “law has only a shadow of the good things to come and not the true form of these realities, it can never, by the same sacrifices that are continually offered year after year, make perfect those who approach” (10:1). In other words, the sanctuary itself cannot make perfect those who approach because it is not imperfect. The high priests cannot make others perfect. And now it is explained that the law is unable to do that which only Christ can do. When Christ came, then, it was to do the will of God and make perfect those who obey. The author explains to the addressees that Christ “abolishes the first in order to establish the second. And it is by God’s will that we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all” (10:10). Of particular importance is the author’s explanation that the

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first has been abolished. While the author has previously compared the earthly with the heavenly, it is now declared that one necessarily replaces the other. (10:11–18) Throughout the series of three comparisons—priesthoods, covenants, and sanctuaries— we have read the text through the instructive lens of prototypicality. In each case, we have found that while the author emphasizes the superiority of Jesus—as great high priest, as offering a new covenant and as offering the ultimate sacrifice in the heavenly sanctuary—the earlier expressions of faithfulness were not denigrated. Priests were described as limited. The earlier covenant could not sanctify and, therefore, was inferior. And, the earthly sanctuary is only a sketch of the one in heaven. In each case, they were placed within close proximity of the ultimate example of Jesus. Now, we find that Jesus has “abolished the first in order to establish the second” (10:9). In light of the previous comparisons, this announcement indicates that not only is the sacrifice of Jesus the prototypical sacrifice, it is a once-and-for-all sacrifice that necessarily makes all other sacrifices obsolete. It is important, however, that the author worked through the set of three comparisons, for they showed that God has always been faithful to God’s people (in establishing a priesthood, a covenant, and a sanctuary) and that God’s people have been faithful to God (in worship and sacrifice). Jesus, however, has changed the way that people experience God’s faithfulness and has changed the way that people express their faithfulness to God. In Christ’s sacrifice, there is forgiveness. In turn, there is no longer any offering for sin (10:18).

A Call to Persevere, to Hold Fast to the Primary Identity Marker of Faithfulness (10:19–39) The author’s return to the theme of perseverance cannot be separated from the previous set of three comparisons. As with earlier examples, the separation here is artificial as it begins with a word indicating the continuation of a thought—“therefore” (cf. 4:1–13). In this case, the addressees are urged to “hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful” (10:23). The author has previously described the faithfulness of God. By using Abraham as an example, the author emphasized that the faithfulness of God came in the form of a promise and the faithfulness of Abraham came in the form of his trust in that promise (6:13–15). Now, the author points to the faithfulness of Jesus and urges the addressees to hold fast to their faithfulness as the necessary response to their great high priest. If Abraham’s faithfulness manifested itself as patient endurance, how is the faithfulness of the addressees to appear? The author begins this exhortation by urging them to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, and encouraging one another (10:24–25). If faithfulness is the primary identity marker of the ingroup of addressees (e.g., “We are God’s faithful”), it also serves as the primary ideological characteristic of the group (e.g., “We are identifiable by our faithfulness”). With that said, this list offers helpful insight into specific group norms. In other words, this list points to the shared beliefs and values of the group (e.g., “We love one another and do good deeds”). (10:19–39) The author repeats this call to perseverance by outlining the consequences of a lack of faithfulness. Again, God acts first. The addressees are warned that “if we willfully persist in

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sin after having received the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins” (10:26). In other words, they first receive the knowledge of the truth. In response, they must not willfully persist in sin. Next, the author returns to the earthly and heavenly images of the proceeding three sets of comparisons. If one who “violated the law of Moses dies without mercy, how much worse punishment do you think will be deserved by those who have spurned the Son of God” (cf. 8:1–13). In short, if violating the first covenant leads to death, how much more terrible is the rejecting of Jesus’s heavenly covenant? The author concludes this exhortation to persevere by reminding the addressees of their past faithfulness. They have already endured a hard struggle with sufferings, sometimes being publicly exposed to abuse and persecution, and sometimes being partners with those so treated (10:32–33). In the midst of this difficulty, they showed compassion for those in prison and cheerfully accepted the plundering of their property (10:34). Since the addressees have responded to suffering in the past with a continued faithfulness, they are urged again not to abandon their confidence (10:35). The section concludes with powerful summarizing words, “But we are not among those who shrink back and so are lost, but among those who have faith and so are saved” (10:39). With this firm call to faithfulness, the author moves seamlessly into a description of faith.

A Great Cloud of Witnesses, Exemplars of Faithfulness (11:1–40) (11:1–3) Faith is the experience of confidence and trust in a promise. A promise is not seen, nor is the certain hope that is the result of (or the response to) that promise. While neither is visible, they are both evident in the relationships between God and the members of the great cloud of witnesses. As the author of Hebrews turns next to exploring these relationship of faithfulness, the examples given may be divided into two general forms. First, the author offers two examples— Noah and Abraham—that explicitly reference both God’s promise and the individual’s trust in that promise. Second, the author offers many examples that only refer to the faithfulness of an individual without including God’s work of faithful initiation. In every case, the addressees are presented as exemplars of faithfulness to God. (11:4–22) The exchange between God and Noah is the first example offered that includes both God’s promise and an individual response. In this case, God warned Noah about events as yet unseen. By faith, Noah respected the warning and built an ark to save his household (11:7). Similarly, God called Abraham to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. By faith, Abraham obeyed God and set out, not knowing where he was going (11:8). By faith, he stayed for a time in the land he had been promised, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise (11:9). By faith Abraham received power of procreation because he considered him faithful who had promised (11:11). Even when God replaced the promise with a test, Abraham responded with faithfulness. He who had received the promises was ready to offer up his only son (11:17–19). With the examples of both Noah and Abraham, the faithful promise of God is clearly identified and the faithful response of the individual follows. (11:23–31) More common in this section are examples of faithfulness that imply, but do not make explicit, the promise of God. By faith, Abel offered a more acceptable offering to God (11:4). 508

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By faith, Isaac invoked blessings for the future on Jacob and Esau (11:20). By faith, Jacob, when dying, blessed each of the sons of Joseph (11:21). By faith, Joseph, at the end of his life, made mention of the exodus of the Israelites and gave instruction about his burial (11:22). By faith, the parents of Moses hid him for three months after his birth (11:23). By faith, Moses refused to be called a son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing rather to share ill-treatment with the people of God (11:24–25). By faith, he left Egypt (11:27). By faith, he kept the Passover (11:28). By faith, the people of God passed through the Red Sea as if it were dry land (11:29). By faith, Rahab did not perish with those who were disobedient (11:31). In each of these cases, it is implied that the individuals trusted in God’s promise and acted boldly. So sure are God’s promises that people and even things act with faithfulness. By faith, the walls of Jericho fell after they had been encircled for seven days (11:30). (11:32–40) As if this list should speak for itself, the author asks, “And what more should I say” (11:32)? By offering a simple list of names from Gideon to Samuel to the prophets, it is implied that the great cloud of witnesses stretches from creation to the addressees’ present. As with the list above, it is also made clear that the great cloud serve as exemplars of faithfulness in times of success (e.g., obtained promises, won strength out of weakness) and in times of suffering (e.g., being destitute and tormented). This, however, is not the end. The author explains that regardless of their faithfulness, they “did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better so that they would not, without us, be made perfect” (11:39). The author does not say that they did not receive what was promised because God was not (or, is not) faithful to God’s promises. Likewise, the author does not say that they did not receive what was promised because there was something insufficient about God’s earlier promise. The author states that God’s promised rest will only be attainable together, the great cloud of witnesses along with the addressees. Here, it is necessary to remember that both the description of faith and the list of exemplars of faithfulness were offered as a continuation of the author’s call to perseverance. Just as the many witnesses of faithfulness held to God’s promises during times of prosperity and during times of loss, the addressees must also hold fast to their faithfulness that together all might be made perfect. Finally, if the depiction of the great cloud of witnesses is a continuation of the author’s previous call to perseverance, it is also connected to what is to follow. As the author presents Jesus as the pioneer and perfecter of faith, Jesus will serve as the ultimate example—the prototype—of faithfulness. The addressees will be urged to look to Jesus. Throughout Hebrews, the author has painted a picture of faithfulness with Jesus as the center. The faithfulness of Moses, the service of the high priests, the witness of the great cloud, and the current faithfulness of the addressees are all described in proximity to Jesus.

The Faithfulness of Jesus, the Primary Identity Marker of Jesus (12:1–13) (12:1–3) Again and again, chapter breaks (and the section breaks of this commentary) must be observed with caution. As the author moves to the example of Jesus, it is done so with obvious

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connection to what has come before. “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses” (12:1). The author, here, employs an athletic image. The addressees are invited to imagine the atmosphere of a stadium. As they prepare to run with perseverance the race that is set before them, they are surrounded by so great a crowd of witnesses. However, more than mere spectators, their encouragement is what will give strength and endurance to the addressees during their race. In order to run, they must lay aside all additional weight. In this case, it is the sin that clings so closely. Most importantly, the addressees are to look to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of faith. It was not uncommon for an individual of honor to be stationed at the finish line of a race. In this case, the runners are to run ever closer to the finish line with their gaze fixed squarely and solely on Jesus. The athletic image is a fitting addition to the author’s exhortation to persevere. Furthermore, just as the author described both Jesus and Moses as members of the same house—one as a Son and one as a servant (3:1–6)—the author here places the addressees along with Jesus and all of the faithful before them into one stadium. They are truly one in faithfulness. With their eyes fixed upon him, the author turns to a description of Jesus as the pioneer and perfecter of our faith (by using “our faith,” the author is identifying as a comember of the ingroup of faithful addressees). The description of Jesus is again grounded in his experience of endurance in suffering, for what was set before him was joy. Division and hostility from sinners was his context, and yet he disregarded its shame. Throughout Hebrews, the author has pointed to the faithfulness of Jesus in the midst of his suffering as an example for the addressees (cf. 2:18). Here again, they are to model their behavior after his, that they may not grow weary or lose heart (12:3). As noted above, the theory of prototypicality posits that categories vary in their relative inclusiveness (cf. 3:1–6). With the author’s description of Jesus as the pioneer and perfecter of faith, he is being held up as the ultimate example of faithfulness, the prototype. Moreover, it is specifically his endurance in the face of suffering that is identified as evidence of his exemplary faith. The great cloud, in turn, are also held up as noteworthy examples of faithfulness. Close to the prototype, many also endured suffering. Finally, the exhortation to “look to Jesus” may be best understood as the urge to keep their eyes fixed upon the prototype of faithfulness in the midst of their suffering. (12:3–13) For the author, the suffering of the addressees is likened to the discipline by a parent toward a child. For modern readers, this may prove problematic. It may depict parenthood in a manner that is uncomfortable for readers. In addition, it may introduce problematic questions of theodicy. Is earthly suffering the intentional work of God? The substance of this position, however, is one of legitimacy and illegitimacy. As the argument goes, parents would not go through the difficult work of disciplining a child that was not their own. Moreover, discipline is necessary and even a sign of love within a parent-child relationship. In short, the author is urging the disciples to imagine that their current experience of suffering is one of discipline and that it is evidence that they are in a legitimate parent-child relationship with God. This image culminates with the observation that “discipline seems painful rather than pleasant at the time, but later yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it” (12:11). For the addressees, their suffering is painful to the point of possible unfaithfulness, yet the still unknown pleasures of God’s promised rest remains.

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Another Warning to Persevere, Another Call to Remain Faithful (12:14–29) In the previous section, the author identified Jesus as the prototype of faithfulness, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith (12:1–2). After this, the addressees were urged to both keep their eyes fixed upon Jesus and consider their suffering to be like discipline from parent, a painful experience that yields peaceful fruit (12:11). Finally, the ingroup in crisis is told to lift their drooping hands and to strengthen their weak knees, to make straight paths for their feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed (12:12–13). With this section, the exhortation turns again to the consequences of unfaithfulness (cf. 3:7–19). (12:14–17) If faithfulness is the response to God’s promise, than that response must be one of action. The ingroup of Christ-followers are to pursue peace with everyone and also holiness, without which no one will see the Lord (12:14). They must see to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God (12:15). They are to let no root of bitterness spring up and through it become defiled (12:15). In other words, their faithfulness is more than a trust in God’s promise; it is a trust that manifests itself in loving ingroup behavior. While the author had previously described the lives of the great cloud of witnesses in order to inspire the continued faithfulness of the addressees (11:1–40), the author here describes the immorality and godlessness of Esau to highlight the consequences of unfaithfulness (12:16–17). Mirroring the earlier description of the ingroup boundary as one of unidirectional permeability, Esau was given no chance to repent, even though he sought the blessing with tears (12:17; cf. 5:11–6:8). In short, faithfulness must be evidenced in the lived expression of the group norm of loving kindness. (12:18–24) Blazing fire burning from the inside, darkness and gloom—as if the sky’s gone out, and a tempest; the author moves from the consequences of unfaithfulness to the vivid description of an encounter with God. As if they are standing with the wilderness generation in the flat field, they now witness God descending from Mount Sinai (12:18–19). Under such terrifying conditions, even Moses cannot mask his fear (12:21). Here the author returns to the now-familiar comparison between the earthly and heavenly (cf. 9:1–22). As if an encounter with God on Mount Sanai was not stunning enough, the addressees have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem (12:22). Under the watchful eye of God the judge of all, there is no hiding. Sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel, the addressees stand before Jesus, mediator of a new covenant. (12:25–29) “See that you do not refuse the one who is speaking; for if they did not escape when they refused the one who warned them on earth, how much less will we escape if we reject the one who warns from heaven!” (12:25). With this declaration, the author continues to weave together familiar themes from throughout the work. The earthly does not compare to the heavenly, neither in splendor nor in gravity. Even as they received the faithfulness of God for forty years, the wilderness generation responded by putting God to the test. The addressees, in turn, must not refuse the God that speaks—the God that spoke in many and various ways through the prophets and now has spoken through a Son. If there is a rejection of the one who warns from

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heaven, there is no chance to repent. Like Esau before them, the ingroup of Christ-followers must not fall away. The warning is firm, but concludes by returning to the faithfulness of God. “Since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe; for indeed our God is a consuming fire” (12:28). With this return to the promise of an unshakeable kingdom, the addressees are reminded that they are to continue to hold firm to a promise already given. It is not their faithfulness that inspires a response from God.

A Call to Love and Service, Putting Faithfulness into Action (13:1–19) The author’s call to love and service may be grouped into three categories. First, the addressees are to let mutual love continue. Second, the ingroup of Christ-followers are to imitate the faith of their leaders. Third, they are again to consider earthly and heavenly sanctuaries, continually offering a sacrifice of praise to God. The section also concludes with the first reference to the author. Urging them to “pray for us; we are sure that we have a clear conscience, desiring to act honorably in all things” (13:18). To whom the author is referring when using “us” and “we” is unclear, but it is perhaps “those from Italy” who also send greetings (13:24). The invitation to pray is made so that the author “may be restored to you very soon” (13:19). Nothing more is known about the author, simply that there is hope that they will one day be united again. (13:1–6) The first category of action within this call to love and service may be broadly defined by the opening phrase, “Let mutual love continue.” Throughout Hebrews, faithfulness has been the primary identity marker for the ingroup. They are those who follow the example of the countless members of the great cloud of witnesses and run with perseverance with their gaze fixed upon Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. They are unlike the wilderness generation. They do not follow the ungodly pattern of Esau. They are God’s faithful. Here, their faithfulness is described in terms of normative group behavior. They are to love one and not to neglect to show hospitality to strangers (13:1–2). They are to remember those in prison as though they themselves were in prison with them; those who are being tortured, as though they were also being tortured (13:3). They are to honor the commitment of marriage and keep their lives free for a love of money (13:4–5). The pattern for this list of commands is consistent with the language of faithfulness throughout the work. God is faithful, therefore God’s people must respond with faithfulness. In this case, the addressees are to enact their love and service because God has said, “I will never leave you or forsake you” (13:5). It is God’s promise to be the helper that enables the addressees to live without fear (13:6). (13:7–18) The second category of action within this call to love and service involves imitating the faith of the leaders. Throughout Hebrews, the author has pointed to exemplars of faithfulness. Jesus and Moses, the Son and servant of God’s house, were both faithful in suffering (3:1–6). Abraham received a promise from God and responded with faith (6:13–15). The list of the great cloud of witnesses was offered as an exclamation point (11:1–40). The addressees are

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to understand that many before them had experienced suffering and yet maintained their faith; therefore, they too must remain faithful. Here, the author turns to the examples in their midst. Their leaders spoke the word of God to them, and they are to consider the outcome of their leaders’ way of life, imitating their faith (13:7). Again, they are instructed to “obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls and will give an account. Let them do this with joy and not sighing—for that would be harmful to you” (13:17). The author has constructed throughout the work a description of Jesus as the prototype of faithfulness with all other exemplars of faithfulness defined by their proximity to him. Now, the leaders of this ingroup of Christ-followers are drafted into this image. They have been faithful and are worthy of imitation. They are, of course, not the pioneers or perfecters of faith. They are, however, deserving of obedience and emulation. Finally, the third category of action within this call to love and service involves the offering of praise. The author has repeatedly compared the earthly with the heavenly. The faithfulness of high priests has been compared to the faithfulness of Jesus, the high priest who reigns in heaven. The first covenant has been compared to the heavenly covenant offered by the priestly Jesus. And, earthly and heavenly sanctuaries have been compared. Because the addressees live in the promise of a new covenant, because they have a great and heavenly high priest, because they are invited to a heavenly alter they are to continually offer a sacrifice of praise. They are to possess the “fruit of lips that confess his name” (13:15). Praise is the faithful response to all that they have been given.

Benediction, Exhortation, and Greeting, Concluding Words to the Faithful Ingroup (13:20–25) (13:20–21) As the author nears the end of Hebrews, there is the offering of a benediction blessing. The words are poetic and traditional and reaffirm the consistent description of faithfulness within a relationship. God is faithful to the addressees. God is the God of peace “who brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant” (13:20). In other words, God was faithful to Jesus even in death. Likewise, God is faithful to the addressees. God will make them complete in everything good (13:21). Faithfulness is a relationship, and God has been and is faithful to the addressees. They are, in turn, faithful to God, and this faithfulness is to manifest itself in action—doing what is pleasing in God’s sight (13:21). The benediction concludes with the familiar words, “through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen” (13:21). While the author is surely using common liturgical language, it fits seamlessly into the overall presentation of the work. The final words regarding the giving of glory to Jesus forever echo the author’s earlier call to offer a sacrifice of praise to God (cf. 13:15). (13:22–25) One last time, the author urges the addresses to bear with the words of exhortation. While the author has provided a vivid description of Jesus and the ongoing faithfulness of God, it is truly the call to faithfulness in crisis that is the primary concern for this work. The conclusion of Hebrews is simple. The author shares that Timothy has been set free (13:23). It is not clear whether or not the addressees know Timothy, but it is telling that such a brief mention serves as

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an appropriate and sufficient introduction and recommendation. While the ingroup boundary is in one sense rigid—of unidirectional permeability—it is also open and porous to other faithful followers of Christ. The addressees are to greet their leaders and all of the saints (13:24) and those from Italy send greeting to the addressees (13:24). While this is likely some sort of indicator of the location of the letter’s origin (or, at least, that the author is with some from Italy), little can be gained from this detail. With that said, like the earlier mention of Timothy, the reference to those from Italy gives a sense that the addressees share some sense of community with other Christfollowers. The author’s final words are both traditional and personal, “Grace be with all of you” (13:25). God’s grace is the promise to which they cling and their faithfulness is a response to this very offering of grace. It is by grace that they will remain faithful in their suffering.

References Attridge, Harold W. Hebrews. Hermeneia. Edited by Adela Yarbro Collins. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989. Ellingworth, Paul. The Epistle to the Hebrews. NIGNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993. Esler, Philip F. “An Outline of Social Identity Theory.” Pages 13–39 in T&T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London: T&T Clark, 2014. Evans, Vyvyan, and Melanie Green. Cognitive Linguistics: An Introduction. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2006. Fauconnier, Gilles, and Mark Turner. The Way We Think: Conceptual Blending and the Mind’s Hidden Complexities. New York: Basic, 2002. Hogg, Michael A. “Social Identity Theory.” Pages 3–17 in Understanding Peace and Conflict Through Social Identity Theory. Edited by Shelley McKeown, Reeshma Haji, and Neil Ferguson. Peace and Psychology Book Series. Edited by Daniel J. Christie. Switzerland: Springer, 2016. Koester, Craig R. Hebrews—A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. AB. New York: Doubleday, 2001. Marohl, Matthew J. Faithfulness and the Purpose of Hebrews: A Social Identity Approach. Princeton Theological Monograph Series. Eugene: Pickwick, 2008. Oakes, Penelope, S. Alexander Haslam, and John C. Turner. “The Role of Prototypicality in Group Influence and Cohesion: Contextual Variation in the Graded Structure of Social Categories.” Pages 75–92 in Social Identity: International Perspectives. Edited by Stephen Worchel, J. Francisco Morales, Dario Paez, and Jean-Claude Deschamps. London: Sage, 1998. Smith, Eliot R., and Michael A. Zarate. “Exemplar and Prototype Use in Social Categorization.” Social Cognition 8 (1990): 243–62.

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Chapter  21

James K. Jason Coker

Introduction Audience The audience of the Letter of James, however, is paradoxically clear and confusing, and a place of scholarly disagreement. James 1:1 addresses the letter to “the twelve tribes of the diaspora.” In this sense, the letter is sent from an identified person, James, to an identified audience, the twelve tribes of the diaspora. While this creates a literary context for the letter, the difficulty lies in the actual identity of “the twelve tribes of the diaspora” because the tribal system of Israel had not existed for centuries by the time of the composition of the letter. This appeal to ethnic origins rhetorically connects the recipients and sender of the letter in a prototypical identity that creates an inside and outside binary. This binary runs through the entire letter. There is a strong literary connection, however, between James and the twelve tribes. James is the English translation from the Greek term for Jacob. In the original language this literary connection between Jacob and the twelve tribes ties the author and addressees into the Hebrew Bible story of the patriarchs (Genesis 25–50), only deepening the ingroup social ties. Most scholars do not spend much time on this literary connection and argue that the letter was written to be circulated among Jesus-following communities throughout the Greco-Roman world that encouraged them to have stricter observance of moral law as it relates to the most vulnerable in society. Primarily, the letter was most likely written to more Torah-observant Jewish communities who were also followers of Jesus. This literary context, then, creates a rhetoric of social connection and social identity. Whoever the “real” audience was for the Letter of James, the use of social identity language (diaspora) functions as a deep social tie between the author and the audience.

Literary Structure While the opening salutation identifies James as a letter, what follows would be difficult to describe as a letter especially since it does not end with a typical closing for a letter. The literary structure, like many other aspects of the letter, is determined by the cumulative evidence beyond the simple salutation. For instance, the Letter of James is written with authority and force. It has more imperatives per verse than any other writing of the NT. This tends to show that each section

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of the letter is an admonishment toward moral decency, which functions as social formation. From the opening of the body of the letter in 2:1 to the closing of the body in 5:6, James implores the readers to show no partiality (2:1–13), to help the poor (2:14–26), to be careful how to talk and who to listen to (3:1–12), to have wisdom from above (3:13–18), to not be friends with the world (4:1–12), to have faithful business plans (4:13–17), and to condemn wealthy landowners (5:1–6). These moral imperatives coupled with the opening salutation place James in the structural category of a “letter to the diaspora” (Lockett, 73–74; Coker, 77–79). These letters were written from authority figures in Jerusalem and sent to Jews throughout the GrecoRoman world. This is especially true of the Letter of James from the perspective of scholars who argue that the James who was the leader of the Jesus-movement in Jerusalem was the actual author of the letter. In fact, they argue that the letter’s imperatival force is one of the contributing factors in determining James of Jerusalem as the author of the letter. The imperatives also create a boundary around James’s social prototype. Conforming to these imperatives put the “diaspora” within the social boundaries James constitutes and brings social cohesiveness around these principles. The language James uses around these boundaries is cultic purity language that drives a wedge between “pure” and “impure.”

Major Issues and Theological Themes To sum up to the extreme the major issues and theological themes in the Letter of James, the Letter of James is about true fidelity. James attempts to tell Jesus-followers what it means and what it looks like to have the faith of Jesus. This fidelity is evidenced in the moral actions that Jesus-followers take specifically related to each other and the world. By drawing these lines around the perimeter of the Jesus-movement, James constructs a social identity for early followers of Jesus. Actions are evidence for fidelity, and these actions are most evident in the way the Jesus-community responds to the poor and most vulnerable. Within the community, there is no distinction between the rich and the poor. In fact, God systematically chooses the poor and humbles the rich—and even utterly condemns some (5:1–6). In this sense, poverty and wealth are a major preoccupation within the Letter of James (2:1–13; 2:14–26; 4:1–12, 13–17; 5:1–6), and are a main social identity marker for insiders. Poverty and wealth are placed in another overarching theme throughout the letter: purity and perfection. Purity and perfection create the boundaries around the Jesus-movement that James polices with his imperatives. Pure and undefiled piety/religion is to take care of the orphan and widow in their distress (James 1:27). Within this moral system, James creates complete binaries of good/evil, purity/impurity, poor/wealthy, actions/faith, God/world, and so on. This absolute binary creates a rigid identity for James’s readers and places them in an antagonistic position against the Roman world. Within the history of scholarship, the most significant aspect of the Letter of James has been its relationship to Paul, Pauline writings, and Pauline thought. While this aspect of the Letter of James is important, what most of this scholarship overlooks is how identity is constructed throughout the Letter of James and how this important contribution from the letter puts it at odds with certain Pauline thought—whether it is a misunderstanding of Pauline thought or a correct understanding of Pauline thought. 516

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The Letter of James shows either or both an author and audience that has a strict polarization between God and community on the one side and the world on the other side. It is significant to understand this identity formation within the early Jesus-movement because it is evidence of a more rigorous formation. By itself, this is important to show at least a more sectarian strand in the early Jesus-movement. When placed alongside the more hybrid Pauline version of the Jesusmovement, the significance is only heightened. By focusing on the strict and rigorous social identity formations within the Letter of James, we see how James is constructing identity that confronts both the Roman world and other more hybrid identities within emerging Christianity. Rather than understanding Christianity as a monolithic movement that continuously became fragmented, this approach shows a radically diverse movement that became more and more consolidated.

Social Identity Theory and James A particular identity that emerges from the Letter of James when analyzed under the lens of social identity theory is diaspora. While it only occurs in the first verse of the letter, it creates an identity context that runs throughout the letter. James appeals to the diaspora (1:1) in order to establish a deep ethnic connection (ethnocentrism) with his audience (see Esler, 27). By addressing the entire content of the letter to the diaspora, James draws strategic lines between his audience and “the outside,” which is only heightened throughout the letter. This line of differentiation becomes most evident in 4:1–12 where God and the world are put at absolute odds and James’s community is exhorted to remain friends of God. This absolute social boundary functions as nativist rhetoric designed to clearly define the social identity around James’s diasporic audience.

Commentary Greetings—Naming the Parties (1:1) (1:1) The opening salutation is one of the most important verses in the Letter of James. It frames the entire document as a letter, provides one of only two uses of Jesus’s name, implicitly situates the letter from an authoritative figure in Jerusalem, and contextualizes the document as an encyclical based on the addressees. The first word of the letter is Jacob, which is almost universally translated in English as James. Most scholars argue that out of the three most common James’s in the NT, the James that Paul and the Acts of the Apostles refer to as “the Lord’s brother” (Gal 1:19) and the leader of the assembly in Jerusalem (Acts 15:1–21) is most likely the referent. This is the case whether that actual James wrote the letter or not. No other James would have the authority to write such a demanding letter in the first century. In other words, even if the letter is pseudonymous, James of Jerusalem is the person who the actual writer is using as his basis of authority. This is important because it sets up a power dynamic among authoritative leaders who will demand group salience from the diaspora (Esler, 25). James is the prototype for the ingroup

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as “slave of God and of the Lord Jesus” and influences the diaspora to adhere to the social norms that constitute their social identity. James then describes his addressees as “the twelve tribes of the diaspora.” As stated earlier, the tribal system had faded centuries earlier, so this is a literary cue that James is using, or it metaphorically ties the addressees to the author, that is, Jacob and his twelve sons. The twelve tribes, however, are not in the homeland any longer. They have been scattered or dispersed: diaspora. The letter is sent to Jesus-followers who have been scattered across the Greco-Roman world and who apparently are well versed in Greek. Their being well versed in Greek, however, may be the issue that James addresses throughout the letter. He encourages the diaspora to be true to their core beliefs around binaries like rich/poor, God/world, spiritual/worldly, and so on. These binaries are the categories that define the ingroup, that is, the diaspora (Esler, 24). So much of how scholars interpret the entire Letter of James is based on this first verse. It shapes and contextualizes not only the letter but also the community that was receiving this text. It creates a social identity that orients the addressees to the author, to God and Jesus, and to each other. Even in their dispersion, Jesus-followers are beholden to their leader in Jerusalem, who is the slave of God and Jesus. If he is the slave of Jesus, then what must they be? This literarily begins the process of social formation and group salience.

Epitome of the Letter—The Letter Writ Small (1:2–27) James 1:2–27 functions somewhat as a table of contents or introduction for the rest of the letter. All the major sections that follow ch. 1 are found in miniature version here, and many scholars see a twofold division among these passages: 1:2–11 and 1:12–27 (see Coker, 88–99; Hartin, 28; Martin, xcviii–xcvix; contra Johnson, 184–91). Patrick J. Hartin sees five main themes emerging from ch. 1 that is then expanded in the body of the letter: “The testing of faith that produces steadfastness (in both passages: 1:2–4, 12–16), the gift of wisdom (1:5–8), rich and poor (1:9– 11), control of one’s speech (1:26), and being doers of the word (1:22–25)” (Hartin, 28). James 1:9–11, which focuses on the rich and poor, then, corresponds to and is expanded in James 2:1–7 where partiality to the wealthy is utterly condemned (Martin, xcix; Johnson, 14–15, 175). To bring coherence to this structure, James uses word chains that directly connect one small section to the next in James 1:2–27. While this is much clearer in the original Greek, it is still fairly obvious in translation. For example, James 1:1 ends with “greetings” (chairein in Greek) and v. 2 begins with “joy” (charan in Greek) (Laws, 50). These word chains continue throughout ch. 1 and provides a literary structure for the whole chapter, for example, trials (v. 2)/testing (v. 3); endurance (v. 3)/endurance (v. 4); lacking (v. 4)/lacking (v. 5); ask (v. 5)/ask (v. 6); doubting (v. 6)/doubts (v. 7) (Hartin, 64; Martin, 13). The content of 1:2–27, then, is the entire Letter of James in miniature. Already James is telling the diaspora what they should expect explicated in the rest of the letter. James is building a wall around the perimeter of their social identity that includes trials (1:2–4/12–16), generosity (1:5–8/17–18), divine reversal (1:9–11/26–27), and fidelity to law (1:19–25). These produce the social boundary that differentiates the diaspora from the rest of the world and create group cohesion.

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Jesus and Law as Identity Markers among the Poor and Wealthy (2:1–13) (2:1–4) The opening of the body of the letter deals specifically with how the Jesus-following community should treat people from opposite poles of the socioeconomic system, that is, the rich and the poor. The fact that this topic is how James begins the letter sets a tone for everything that follows. James begins with an emphatic declaration that there should be no partiality within the Jesus-movement, and uses the faith of Jesus Christ as the reason not to have distinctions. Since this is the only other time James invokes the name of Jesus, it carries particular weight. The faith of Jesus is not compatible with showing partiality between people of different socioeconomic status. This is a radical departure from typical Greco-Roman social etiquette, and the illustration that James uses to make his point in vv. 2–4 only highlights his radical social denunciation. The polarization between the diaspora community and the larger Greco-Roman world reiterates the social identity of the diasporic community. Compared to the practices of favoritism common in the larger society, James’s audience finds its social identity in full contrast by turning the social order on its head (Kuecker, 71–72). (2:5–7) In her postcolonial analysis of James 2:1–13, Ingeborg Mongstad-Kvammen shows the deep social dimensions of the passage by showing how the “wealthy person in fine clothes” is described as someone from the Roman equestrian order (Mongstad-Kvammen, 65–67). James’s insistence that the poor should have the same social status as someone from the equestrian order, or even have higher status—“has God not chosen the poor?” (v. 5)—indicates the radical nature of how social identity is being constructed in the letter (Maynard-Reid, 58–59). While elevating the poor as the “chosen,” James denigrates the wealthy as those who “oppress you, drag you to court . . . and blaspheme the name” (vv. 6–7). This reversal of the hierarchy between the rich and poor directly confronts the patron/client socioeconomic system that constituted Roman social relations throughout the empire (Edgar, 118–19; Theissen, 166–67) and promotes ingroup favoritism (Esler, 28) (2:8–13) In order to support this social rearranging, James uses Scripture and Jesus tradition as his proof texts in vv. 8–13. Specifically, James cites Lev 19:18 “Love your neighbors,” which is an important text in the Jesus tradition found in the Gospels. For James, this passage contradicts the partiality within the patron/client system of Rome. Partiality breaks this “kingdom” or “royal” law, which then breaks the entire law. James makes this argument using an example from the Ten Commandments. To break any commandment is to break all of them. Jesus-followers will be judged by this same law. The “royal” or “kingdom” law, then, is in absolute contradiction to the Roman socioeconomic system, which constructs a completely different, if not new, social order. The recipients of the letter, then, are not simply alienated from the homeland centered in Jerusalem, that is, diaspora, they are alienated from the Roman social order by their identification with the Jesus-movement (Kuecker, 70–71).

Identity Is What One Does (2:14–26) (2:14) Impartiality through the love commandment is not the only aspect of this social identity that is constitutive. In what is the most famous section of the Letter of James, James makes a 519

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decree related to faith and works. Faith is only beneficial if it becomes actionable. James focuses on the consistency between faith and works rather than the contradiction between them. The terminology used in this section and the way James constructs his argument are directly linked to Pauline thought (Galatians 2–3; Romans 3–4), which is why this section is so (in)famous. The fact that James uses the terms “faith” and “works” as well as the fact that he uses Abraham as a proof text to support his argument shows direct connections to Pauline thought. In this case, James switches from his attack on Greco-Roman social practices and begins an intragroup attack on what he sees as a threat from within his own social network. To use social identity theory language, James is creating “prescriptive/injunctive” norms, which “bring order and predictability to the environment, thus helping members to construe the world” (Esler, 32). There is a range of scholarly opinion about how James and Paul are interacting with each other here. Some argue that James and Paul are in agreement and are using similar language but in different ways. For example, James’s use of “works” is fundamentally different than Paul’s use of “works of the Law” (Johnson, 58–64; Hartin, 163–71). Others argue that James is critiquing a misunderstanding of Pauline thought (Laws, 128–34; Martin, 82–84). In this case, James is addressing Jesus-followers who have accepted Paul’s concept of freedom from the Law, but have applied it to everything, that is, free to do anything. James, then, is correcting this misunderstanding by emphasizing the inextricable connection between faith and works. The other main camp in scholarly discourse argues that James and Paul were actually antagonistic to each other (Coker, 181–211), whether they knew each other’s writings or not. Here, James is confronting Pauline libertinism. Even in Paul’s own description of his encounters with James of Jerusalem, these were contentious moments—so tense that Paul would say of James and his colleagues: “Those who were supposed to be acknowledged leaders (what they actually were makes no difference to me; God shows no partiality)—those leaders contributed nothing to me” (Gal 2:6). If this is the case, James 2:14–26 confronts what James considers a duplicitous faith that callously blesses the poor without actually helping the poor (vv. 15–16). This intragroup distinction simultaneously disparages one side and favors the other, which creates an obvious choice for the diaspora—they are to align with James’s championing of works. (2:15–26) At every turn, James argues for a consistency between faith and works from caring for the poor (vv. 15–16), Abraham’s offering of Isaac (v. 21), and Rahab’s harboring spies (v. 25). These are all examples of how faith produces action, and these examples continue to build a social context and identity for Jesus-followers. Their faith is rooted in actionable care for the most vulnerable—food and clothing for the destitute. These actions are directly connected to the “kingdom” law that precedes this section and concludes the last section: “Love your neighbor as yourself ” (v. 8). The entirety of ch. 2, both 2:1–13 and 2:14–26, grounds the social identity of Jesus-followers in the care and prioritization of the poor and vulnerable (2:2–4 and 2:15–16) while negatively assessing both outsiders (intergroup) and wayward insiders (intragroup).

Identity Is What One Says (3:1–12) (3:1) Again, scholarly opinion is divided on James 3:1–12. Does this section of the letter mute adversarial teachers or does this section warn the communities to watch their language? Put simply, is

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James attacking teachers who disagree with him or is he telling his addressees to mind their speech, that is, teachers or tongue? This section opens with a warning against those who would become teachers and includes an important autobiographical note on James. He includes himself as a teacher by using “we,” and then begins 3:1–12 with a warning to anyone who may want to become a teacher. His warning is simple: teachers will be judged with greater severity. James represents “an ingroup prototype” that exemplifies “to the maximum extent the shared identity of the group” (Esler, 34). He is the teacher par excellence and embodies in himself all the values and norms that represent the social identity of the diaspora. This standardizes James’s teaching and solidifies his authority as the leader. After the introductory verses about teachers, James uses three illustrations regarding how the tongue (the metaphor for social identity boundary in this passage), which is small, can direct the entire body. James describes the tongue as a bit that directs a horse, a rudder that directs a ship, and a small flame that turns into a forest fire (vv. 3–6). In vv. 7–12, James describes the tongue as untamable and illustrates this wildness with its capacity to bless and curse like a fountain of water that produces both sweet and bitter water and a fig tree that produces olives. All of these are obviously impossible, which is the point James is making. Jesus-followers must not be duplicitous or double-minded—this is an important word for James (1:8, 4:8). This focus on consistency closely relates to the previous section (James 2:14–26) on the consistency between faith and works, and functions in a similar way to create social boundaries for the ingroup, that is, diaspora. While the vast majority of 3:1–12 deals specifically with the evils of the tongue, is this a way that James attacks rival teachers? Sophie Laws and Luke Timothy Johnson do not see any attacks here on James’s rivals or false teachers. Laws specifically argues that “error in speech may be particularly crucial for the teacher, but it is not a problem from him alone” (Laws, 144). Johnson follows this argument and interprets the whole section as moral teaching about speech acts that shows the impossibility of living and speaking with “two measures simultaneously” (Johnson, 254). The warning in 3:1–12, for Laws and Johnson, is a general warning about the tongue and its capacity for great evil. (3:8) It is clear from James 3:8 that the tongue is a “restless evil,” but is that warning for everyone or for a particular group? Peter H. Davids points out that “it is not that the tongue steers the ship, but that the proper helmsman is often not in control” (Davids, 140). The greater judgment that teachers face (3:1) is specifically because of their teaching, that is, their tongue. The lengthy instruction regarding the tongue (vv. 3–12) is based on the introductory verses regarding the teacher (vv. 1–2). James is censoring teachers here who are causing problems within the larger community (see Martin, 104). This censoring of rival teachers is consistent with what precedes this section regarding the consistency with faith and works. If James is the “normative prototype,” then these false teachers are the nonnormative prototype or antithesis (Esler, 170). Those who do not act in accordance with their faith are the same as those who do not do what they say. Their mouths are an inconsistent spring of bitter and sweet water, which is as bad as blessing the poor and doing nothing for them. James is policing the social boundary around his group.

Wisdom as Identity Marker (3:13–18) James now takes up the theme of wisdom as a way to accentuate the moral universe of right and wrong that demarcates the social norms of his group. James’s strong sense of good versus 521

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evil, purity versus impurity, and God versus the world now considers wisdom from above (v. 17) versus wisdom that is earthly, unspiritual, and demonic (v. 15). James prepares for this absolute binary in the way he closed the previous section regarding consistency in speech for teachers (3:10–12). What has been implicit is now explicit: there are two ways to live in the world according to James. Those who follow Jesus will act in a way that reflects wisdom from above (v. 13); those who are not defined by the wisdom from above are full of bitter jealousy and selfish ambition (vv. 14 & 16). There is no space in James’s worldview to be able to inhabit both spheres of wisdom. This “wisdom two ways” utterly separates James and the community he is constructing through this text from “the world” (Coker, 159–70). By clearly drawing the boundary around “the diaspora” (1:1), James creates a social identity that is antagonistic to the larger Greco-Roman world in which these Jesus-followers live—a world that is guided by an “earthly, unspiritual, and demonic” (v. 16) wisdom. The point of comparison is unmistakable here where James “favourably differentiates” the diaspora “from outgroups” (Kuecker, 71). This earthly wisdom is connected to the social wisdom that decides that the wealthy are to be treated better than the poor (2:2–4), that one can bless the poor but do nothing for them (2:15–16), and that a teacher can burn down a community with wild teachings (3:1–12). James has prefigured this teaching on wisdom in each major section of the letter up to this point and will follow this section with a heightened sense of a bifurcated world. The following sections, 4:1–12, 4:13–18, and 5:1–6, continue to draw tight social boundaries around the community of believers and chasten any form of boundary crossing. What is a relatively small pericope in 3:13–18, then, becomes the central argument around which the letter revolves (Coker, 110).

One Is Known by the Company S/He Keeps— Friendship and Name-Calling (4:1–12) After James creates a central boundary between two wisdoms, he polices that boundary in 4:1–12 as he shifts to the theme of friendship, which is the harshest and most explicit social comparison in the entire letter. Ancient identity was deeply connected to the concept of friendship. Alicia J. Batten does a magisterial job analyzing the idea of friendship (as well as patronage and benefaction) in the Letter of James. Social connections between individuals and groups were evidence of status in the ancient world. Friendship usually indicated a reciprocal relationship between two people of similar social status. According to Batten, however, friendship could also be a relationship of exchange that was predicated on practical matters such as love and emotion and not necessarily indicate a relationship between two social equals (Batten, 57). This provides an important interpretive lens when contemplating social identity in the Letter of James. Particularly in James 4:1–12, James demands that Jesus-followers must choose between friendship with the world and friendship with God (4:4). The world is the antithesis of God; therefore, the social boundary is fixed and immovable. Those who would transgress this absolute boundary are called “whores,” “two-faced,” and “sinners” (Coker, 244–52)—this is James’s strategy for maintaining the boundary and constructing the social identity of the diaspora community. (4:8) These mutually exclusive friendships (world/God) show the ideologically impossibility of transgression. Transgression is a “mixing” with the world that creates impurity—“cleanse your 522

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hands, you sinners; purify your hearts, you two-faced people” (4:8b). This rhetoric creates a social identity that is completely antithetical to the world in its drive to purity, which not only critiques the world but critiques any form of identity within the Jesus-movement that would cross this boundary of purity and perfection. This language ritualizes the social identity of the diaspora while simultaneously differentiating it from the world. It is this line of reasoning where James aggressively confronts Pauline sensibilities about identity and otherness. Paul’s idea that he could become anything as a strategy to “win” some is untenable for James according to the rhetoric of 4:1–12. Paul’s notion that he could become “a Jew to the Jews” and “to those outside the law, become as one outside the law” and “become all things to all people” (1 Cor 9:20–23) cannot hold up under the scrutiny of James’s idea of friendship with God and the world. This type of hybridity has no place in the purity boundaries between God and the world that James continues to create throughout his letter. The social identity that James is constructing continues to be religiously rigorous and contrary to the social etiquette of the Roman Empire. If James 2:1–13 was a critique of the Roman patronage system, then James 4:1–12 is a complete extraction from the Roman world, which makes absolutely no room for an identity that can sustain connections with both God and the world. This warning to maintain a purity that stands in contradiction to the world functions as a prelude to the last two sections of the body of the letter in 4:13–17 and 5:1–6 where James condemns itinerant business and landownership practices.

Merchants or Itinerant Ministers? Identity and Business (4:13–17) (4:13) If Jesus-followers cannot be friends with God and the world simultaneously (4:1–12), then this directly effects how they conduct business whether they are merchants (4:13–17) or landowners (5:1–6). These last two sections of the body of the letter both start with a grammatical construction that has imperatival force: “Now listen” or “Come now” (4:13; 5:1). In 4:1–13, this command warns those “who say” (4:13). This continues James’s critique of speech acts that runs throughout the letter: “Be doers of the word” (1:22–23); “you may say” (2:3); “and you say” (2:16); warning against teachers/teachings (3:1–12); “quarrels and fighting” (4:1–2); and slander (4:11). In every case, James is criticizing the way people use words that are not followed by actions or use harmful words. These imperatives drive home the social norms James prescribes for the diaspora. In the diaspora in particular, where the ingroup is the most susceptible to the influences of the “outside world” because they are in the outside world, James inserts rigid social boundaries for the diaspora. Here the social boundary focuses on “business.” In 4:13–17, James criticizes those who make business plans and do not include God in the planning—this is known as the Conditio Jacobaea, or James’s condition. This condition “If the Lord wills” (4:15) is not simply a formulaic expression for James, since words are always supposed to be accompanied by action. This condition must be supported with actual practice in the way business is conducted (Allison, 643). The Conditio Jacobaea is the social identity marker! (4:16) Besides the main condition within this short section, there is another important aspect of the text that deserves attention. In v. 16, James condemns those who “boast in their arrogance” as sinners. “Sinners” has already been used as a social boundary in the previous section (4:1–12) 523

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and now James returns to that social identity marker to focus specifically on his social antithesis. The terminology of “boasting” and “arrogance” only occurs in the NT in James’s and Paul’s writings besides one occurrence in Hebrews (3:6). Paul uses these terms repeatedly (Rom 2:17, 23; 3:27; 4:2; 5:2, 3, 11; 11:18 [twice], 15:17; 1 Cor 1:29, 31 [twice]; 4:7; 5:6; 9:15, 16; 13:3; 15:31; 2 Cor 1:12, 14; 5:2, 12; 7:4, 14; 8:24; 9:2, 3; 10:8, 13, 15, 17 [twice]; 11:10, 12, 16 [twice], 17, 30 [twice]; 12:1, 5 [twice], 6, 9; Gal 6:4, 13, 14; Phil 1:26; 2:16; 3:3; 1 Thess 2:19). The fact that only James and Paul use these terms and use them as often as they do indicates that there is some degree of correspondence between the two. James is responding to the Pauline language of boasting and using it to critique Paul’s itinerant ministry (Coker, 267–70). This language is pointed and functions to move the diaspora away from what James considers dangerous. Paul’s use of the Conditio Jacobaea in some places indicates that these two see each other as impediments to ministry (or, at least that Paul is trying to fit within James’s social boundaries) (see 1 Cor 4:19; see also Acts 18:21 where Luke has this on Paul’s lips). James is exerting his authority to keep the diaspora firmly within his realm of influence so that the diaspora “self-identifies” with him (Kuecker, 70).

Landowners and the Wealthy: Identity and Labor (5:1–6) In James’s final section of the body of the letter, he attacks landownership malpractices of withholding the wages of laborers. James 5:1–6 represents James’s harshest criticism in the letter where he utterly condemns wealthy landowners, and provides a closing that resembles his opening commands to care for the poor. It is clear that these landowners and their practices are outside the social identity of the diaspora. He opens with the same phrase as 4:13, which ties these two sections together. Whereas 4:13–17 warns itinerant business people/ministers to travel only under God’s will, 5:1–6 is a complete condemnation of wealthy landowners. This indicates that the landowners that James has in mind are not within the social boundaries of Jesus-followers in the diaspora but represents the worst of the Roman world. Again, these landowners resemble the wealthy from the opening section of the body of the letter in 2:6b–7, “Do the rich not oppress you and drag you into court? Do they not blaspheme the good name by which you are called?” Here in 5:1–6, James condemns the wealthy to suffering: “Now listen, rich people, weep while you wail for the miseries that are coming upon you!” This utter denunciation of the wealthy functions as a way to clearly separate Jesus-followers in the diaspora from those who do such evil, thereby reifying the social identity that James has been constructing throughout the letter. (5:2–3) The way in which James condemns the wealthy shows evidence that Jesus tradition is operating within the text in at least two ways. According to Allison, the “woes” against the wealthy in Luke 6:24–26 may be the oral tradition that influences James here: “But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep” (Luke 6:24–25) (see Allison, 650). The “mourn and weep” are closely connected to “weep and wail” in James 5:1. Another close connection to Jesus tradition has to do with “treasure.” In the Q tradition found in Matt 6:19–21 and Luke 12:33–34, Jesus teaches about treasure and heart, and encourages his

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listeners to keep their treasure in heaven where moth and rust cannot erode. James has a negative assessment of this tradition in 5:2–3: “Your wealth has rotted and your garments have become moth-eaten. Your gold and silver have rusted and its rust will be evidence against you and it will eat your flesh like fire because you have stored it for the last days.” (5:4) James, then, is using the Jesus tradition as his source of authority to condemn wealthy landowners who steal the wages of their laborers and deepen the social boundaries between the diaspora and these despots. In fact, it is the wages of the laborers that cry out against the wealthy (5:4) in similar fashion to the prayers of the Hebrew people when they were slaves in Egypt. The total contempt that James has for wealthy landowners draws a final line between the diaspora and “the world.” These landowners are guilty of murder (5:6) because they have withheld the wages of the laborers. The word “murder” here that concludes this final section reminds readers of how the body of the letter started with James’s use of the Ten Commandments: “Because the one who says, ‘Do no commit adultery,’ also says, ‘Do not murder.’ If one does not commit adultery but murders, he has become a breaker of the law” (2:11).

Closing “Prayers” (5:7–20) The Letter of James ends in enigmatic fashion because it lacks the basic form of a letter—there is no formal ending of blessing and greeting that one would expect from a letter (Hartin, 245–46; Allison, 694–95). These last two concluding sections, however, are similar to ch. 1 where all the major essays in the letter are summarized. In James 5:7–20, only a portion of these essays are summarized and concluded. While Allison disagrees that these sections function as a conclusion, he shows how connected they are to specific themes in James 1 that are then extended into small essays within the body of the letter. Patience and endurance are the main themes in James 5:7–12, and these are the themes that begin the Letter of James in 1:2–4 (Allison, 694). In similar fashion, Allison shows thematic congruence between James 1:5–8 and 5:13 in prayer (Allison, 751) and between James 1:26 and 5:13–18 in speech acts (Allison, 726). Hartin makes this argument explicit: “Each [paragraph in James 5:7–20] in its own way brings together themes that were important throughout the letter and so draws it to a conclusion” (Hartin, 246). (5:10–11) Using examples from “the prophets” (v. 10) and “Job” (v. 11), James begins his closing paragraphs with a final call to patience and endurance. By employing the exact language of patience and endurance that James started his letter with (1:2–4), James 5:7–12 begins the conclusion of the letter with a reminder of “eschatological reward” (Allison, 694). By shifting to the ultimate end at the end of his letter, James continues to show that the diaspora literally does not belong in or to the Roman world. The whole universe is divided into polar opposites, and “this world” is only to be endured until another world comes. James continues to create social identity around this polarity. (5:13–20) As a final conclusion, James 5:13–20 ends with the theme of prayer which reminds readers of the opening chapter where James exhorts the readers to ask God for wisdom in faith

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without doubt because God gives generously (1:5–6). This same extravagant God is now called on to heal and forgive (vv. 13–20). Elijah (vv. 17–18) is used as an example of one who prayed and God answered his prayer. In the same way, the community should pray for those who are in error so that they may be brought back into fellowship with the community. Prayer becomes another way to enforce group norms for the diaspora. Now, the diaspora itself is asked to participate in strengthening group boundaries by praying for those who have crossed them. This may be an allusion to those within the community who have become “friends of the world” (4:4). In the very last words of the letter then, James continues to police the boundary that he has constructed throughout his letter and call those who have transgressed the boundary to come back to the correct side. From beginning to end, then, James creates social identity for “the diaspora” (1:1) that places their allegiance firmly with God and against the Roman world as well as all those who blur that boundary.

References Allison, Dale C. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle of James. ICC. London and New York: Bloomsbury, 2013. Batten, Alicia J. Friendship and Benefaction in James. Emory Studies in Early Christianity 15. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2017. Coker, K. Jason. James in Postcolonial Perspective: The Letter as Nativist Discourse. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015. Davids, Peter H. The Epistle of James: A Commentary on the Greek Text. IGTC. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982. Edgar, David Hutchinson. Has God Not Chosen the Poor? The Social Setting of the Epistle of James. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001. Esler, Philip F. “Group Norms and Prototype in Matthew 5.3–12: A Social Identity Interpretation of the Matthean Beatitudes.” Pages 147–71 in T & T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London: Bloomsbury, 2014. Esler, Philip F. “An Outline of Social Identity Theory.” Pages 13–39 in T & T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London: Bloomsbury, 2014. Hartin, Patrick J. James. Sacra Pagina Series 14. Collegeville: Liturgical, 2009. Johnson, Luke Timothy. The Letter of James: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. AB 37A. New York: Doubleday, 1995. Kuecker, Aaron. “Ethnicity and Social Identity.” Pages 59–76 in T & T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London: Bloomsbury, 2014. Laws, Sophie. A Commentary on the Epistle of James. HNTC. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1980. Lockett, Darian R. Purity and Worldview in the Epistle of James. LNTS. New York: T&T Clark, 2008. Martin, Ralph P. James. WBC 48. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1988. Maynard-Reid, Pedrito U. Poverty and Wealth in James. Mayknoll: Orbis, 1987. Mongstad-Kvammen, Ingeborg. Toward a Postcolonial Reading of the Epistle of James: James 2:1–13 in Its Roman Imperial Context. Biblical Interpretation Series 119. Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2013. Theissen, Gerd. “Éthique et communauté dans l’épître de Jacques: réflexions sur son Sitz im Leben.” ETR 77 (2002): 157–76.

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Chapter  22

1 Peter Laura J. Hunt

Introduction “Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people.” First Peter 2:10 describes a group identity for its Christian audience. J. Brian Tucker has proposed six criteria for identifying a text that seeks to form the hearers’ social identity: (1) the text offers a narrative that rivals those of the surrounding culture; (2) the text renames its audience; (3) the text relates new markers of identity to old markers in a way that recognizes the intersectional nature of identity; (4) the text addresses the implications of the new identity in areas of ethics and ethos; (5) the text suggests performances that will embody the new identity; and (6) the text uses discursive practices from the environment to negotiate the new identity (Tucker, Remain, 51–57). First Peter fits all of these criteria.

Textual Identity Formation First, the text appropriates the identity-forming Jewish narrative of exile and diaspora and applies it, somewhat reframed, for its auditors (e.g., 1:1). Second, 1 Peter repeatedly names the people he is writing to, starting at the beginning of the letter with “exiles,” “chosen and destined by God” in 1:1. Third, the crosscutting nature of identity will form a major topic in the discussion below. The addressees are not only Christians (1:1–2), but household slaves (2:18–20); wives (3:1–6), some of whom had some wealth (3:3); husbands (3:7); and perhaps heads of households (5:1–5; Horrell, Becoming, 123–28). As such, they had group norms and role expectations from the local culture that conflicted with their Christian calling. First Peter offers them guidance for navigating these intersections (Hogg and Abrams, Social Identifications, 19). Whereas the addressees have been used to thinking of themselves as Romans or Jews or Galatians, the slave of this one, the wife of that one, the devotee of this deity, this letter attempts to redraw the boundaries such that, while still functioning in some of those capacities, the people he is writing to begin to make salient their identity as the chosen slaves of God (2:16). This identity would then become that through which all other identities are evaluated. Fourth and fifth, 1 Peter regularly addresses the ethos and ethics of Christian identity, particularly a nuanced obedience (e.g., 1:2; 2:13) to holiness (1:14–15) and a normalization of the suffering that may come as a result (4:12). It then proposes specific behaviors that would enact these values, such as non-retaliation (2:23; 3:9; 4:4, 14), a life that mirrors the Lord’s (2:21; 3:15–18; 4:1) and witnesses to those outside the group with both

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word (2:9; 3:15; 4:11) and deed (2:12; 3:1; 4:11), and “mutual love” for ingroup members (1:22; 5:1–5). Sixth, this letter takes people who are disobeying in some key areas the human authorities that are ostensibly placed over them (2:13) and renames them “obedient children” (1:14) and “servants of God” (2:16). The outgroup is renamed as well: “Those who do not obey the gospel of God” (4:17). Thus, Christians who, in their discursive environment, are labeled disobedient are instead called obedient, and those masters and rulers of the outgroup who see themselves as obedient to cultural norms are, according to 1 Peter, the disobedient ones. Another reappropriated term is the name “Christian” (Horrell, Becoming, 164–210). Originally used to dishonor the believers, it is claimed and repurposed in this letter as a label of honor in God’s sight, one for which the bearers should “glorify God” (4:16). By redefining obedience and adopting the label “Christian,” ingroup status is improved (Hogg and Abrams, Social Identifications, 28). These six elements of identity formation will provide the main focus of this commentary.

Genre, Dating, Authorship, and Addressees For the purposes of this chapter, I understand 1 Peter to be a unified composition in the epistolary genre (Elliott, Conflict, 7–9). The multiple proposals for the dating of the letter lead me to leave the date of composition fairly open but rather early, broadly between 65–90 CE. Thus, the identity of the author, too, is left undetermined, although “Peter” will be used for convenience. The addressees have variously been understood as Jewish or gentile Christians of Asia Minor. The author’s expectation that those addressed in this letter would both recognize Hebrew Bible references and his comment that they have “spent enough time in doing what the gentiles like to do” (4:3–4; cf. 1:14, 18) suggest mixed backgrounds either of the congregation (Elliott, Conflict, 16) or of individuals, likely both. The addressees are suffering not only from verbal abuse and shaming in the local cultures but also, in some cases, from physical abuse within their homes (2:20; 3:6, 13–14, 16; 4:1). The form of suffering was dependent on the specific ways in which Christians were embedded in the larger community, whether in pagan households (4:3), local communities (2:7), and/or the Roman world (2:13–17; Williams, Persecution, 179–236). Discussions of good conduct and bad are difficult to follow in this letter because Peter does not always explain whether he means good conduct according to God or good conduct according to those who have power over the Christians: the emperor, governors, slave masters, husbands, or the cultural standards of their local area. First Peter 2:12 is a good example: “Conduct yourselves honorably among the Gentiles [presumably according to gentile standards], so that, though they malign you as evil-doers [for your obedience to God], they may see your honorable deeds and glorify God [either for deeds that are honorable according to their own standards or that are revealed to be honorable] when he comes to judge.” Still, if Christians are being treated poorly, it must be because either those with power over them are arbitrarily abusive or they are not obeying them. And while the former is certainly a possibility, it seems unlikely that the arbitrary abuse was so widespread as to require comment. More probably, Christians are behaving well according to God which effectively causes them to disobey their masters (e.g., 4:14). At least for some, it is specifically their identity as Christians which is causing the conflict (Jobes, 2005, 113).

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Commentary Initial Naming (1:1–2) The letter begins by immediately naming the addressees. The meaning of the term “exiles” has been disputed; some suggest it refers to actual “resident aliens and temporary visitors” (Elliott, Conflict, e.g., 32) and others propose that the reference is metaphorical (e.g., Achtemeier, 1 Peter, 82). It does not, however, seem necessary to strictly choose (Green, 1 Peter, 16–17). Peter is writing to people who previously were integrated into the roles and functions assigned to them by birth, marriage, or ancestry (4:4), whether that consisted of being actual foreigners or not. They are now, though, dealing with a new sense of alienation brought about by their birth into this new family (1:3; 2:2). This very alienation would have contributed to the development of ingroup cohesion (Hogg and Abrams, Social Identifications, 104). While naming them “exiles” might seem negative, it valorizes their distance from their previous identity groups and connects them to Abraham (LXX Gen 23:4) and the people of Israel (2 Macc 1:27; Isa 49:6). The same is true of the words “Dispersion” (LXX 2 Macc 1:27; LXX Ps 146:2; LXX Isa 49:6) and “chosen” (LXX 1 Chr 16:13; LXX Ps 104:6, 43; LXX Is 42:1). Furthermore, these words hearken back to the Babylonian exile during which the Israelites had to develop the same negotiation between obedience and resistance toward which Peter urges his audience (Smith-Christopher, A Biblical Theology, 24). The list of provinces in v. 1 highlights the variety of backgrounds and cultures these Christians have to negotiate. So from the beginning, 1 Peter speaks to a people living at the intersection of competing identities: foreign, local, and attached, in some way, to Judaism.

A New Birth Narrative (1:3–12) In this section of the letter, Peter begins to form the social identity of his hearers by telling them a new story of origin and, using the first-person plural (1:3), Peter includes himself within the same ingroup. The story starts with a “new birth” (v. 3), as is appropriate for a story of origin, but this birth differs from usual ones because it is an eschatological one—a birth “into a living hope” (v. 3), into “an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading” (v. 4), into “a salvation ready to be revealed,” that is both now and not yet. The ingroup is thus united by their expectation of a future of “praise and glory and honor” (1:7) in which all will share (Hogg and Abrams, Social Identifications, 96). The metaphor of the purifying of gold is brought in to explain why this future is so different from the experience of these Christians at the moment. If even perishable gold has to be refined, how much more the ingroup, which has an everlasting inheritance (1:4). It is important to note two things about this metaphor. First, v. 7 is connected to the previous verse with the phrase “so that,” indicating that the purpose of the trials is to reveal the “genuineness of your faith.” This purpose is connected, not only in 1 Peter but in the various uses of the same metaphor in the Hebrew Bible, to the intentionality of God in purifying the people of God (Mal 3:2–3; Zech 13:9; Ps 66:10; Prov 17:3; Sir 2:1–5; and Wis 3:5–6; Jobes, 1 Peter, 94–95; Achtemeier, 1 Peter, 102 n. 36). Ultimate power, then, no longer resides in human authorities but in God, who is, as

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v. 5 notes, protecting them for their future. But that leads to the second point. The community is being purified, not the individuals in it. (Every use of the second-person “you” throughout this book is plural.) The dross in the metaphor, then, are the people who do not stay faithful to God and do not remain within the community because of the suffering they are undergoing. These are the people who respond to a group-level threat with individual social mobility (Ellemers, Spears, and Doosje, “Self,” 174–76). They are able to disassociate with the Christians because their commitment to that identity is low and also because there are no visible, physical markers for Christianity that would cause others to immediately recognize them as Christians. Thus, they can choose a different primary ingroup. In vv. 7–9, Peter strengthens the group identity of those that remain. The community is valorized as pure, the suffering is explained as purposeful to remove from their midst those who left, who are then stereotyped as dross. By defining an outgroup that is differentiated on the important criterion of purity, 1 Peter leads people to categorize themselves more readily into the ingroup (Haslam et al., “Today,” 348–49). Next, Peter strengthens the Christians’ ingroup identity by positively comparing them with two other groups: Hebrew prophets and angels. The prophets investigated and foretold “the sufferings destined for Christ and the subsequent glory” (1:11), presumably Christ’s glory. This pattern of suffering and glory becomes, later in the letter (e.g., 2:21–24), the model for the Christians to follow as well. However, Peter may instead be referring to prophetic predictions about the salvation, suffering in Christ’s cause, and the glories (the Greek is plural) that refer to the holier state of the people of God now that they are purified (Mal 3:3–4; Zech 13:9; Ps 66:12; Wis 5–8). In either case, by their very suffering, the Christians are envied, and therefore honored, by both prophets and angels (1:12). So far, then, this letter has renamed the Christians and valorized their identity by not only rooting it in a Jewish narrative but also making them the master identity for prophets and angels. Such social creativity discursively creates an improved positive distinctiveness for Christian identity, increasing the self-categorization of individual Christians within that group (Hogg and Abrams, Social Identifications, 22–23, 28, 74; Horrell, Becoming, 205).

An Ethos of Holiness (1:13–25) Now that Peter has established an origin story for the Christians, he begins to give them the ethics and ethos of the group: they are to become holy by “obedience to the truth,” and to “love one another deeply” (1:22). These ethical injunctions are to be worked out in the context of hope (1:13), and although the NRSV suggests that this is a hope in a future grace, the Greek and the context (e.g., 1:5) suggest rather that this grace is both present (partially) and future (fully). This section is marked by the interconnecting and repeated ideas of obedience (v. 14, 22), good conduct (15, 17, 18), and imperishability (18, 23; Schutter, Hermeneutic, 53; Edwards, 1 Peter, 53). Furthermore, although the letter does not address every aspect of a believer’s previous identity, and later on, in fact, specifically leaves some aspects of it unchanged, in this section the places where that identity needs to be reformed are addressed. The letter calls its readers “obedient children” (1:14) and “you [who] have come to trust in God” (1:21). It asks them to reject certain aspects of their gentile identities by stereotyping them as “desires that you formerly had in ignorance” (1:14), “the futile ways inherited from your ancestors” (1:18), and “perishable . . . seed” (1:23) of which they formerly were born. At this 530

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stage in the letter, Peter describes more of an ethos than specific ethical behaviors. They are to “be holy” (1:16), to “live in reverent fear” (1:17), to “trust God” (1:21), to set their “faith and hope . . . on God” (1:21), and to obey the truth (1:22). One specific element of the Christians’ changed identity is ransom “with perishable things like silver or gold” (1:18). This verse opposes Christian identity to gentile identity in two ways. First, the holiness of Christians (1:16) is opposed to the traditions of gentile ancestors (1:18), and God will judge between the two (1:17). Yet, at this stage in the letter the details of these behaviors remain somewhat vague. In the second opposition, ransom by “the precious blood of Christ” is compared with ransom by “silver or gold.” Silver and gold are regularly mentioned in the Hebrew Bible in the context of idol worship (Exod 20:23; Wis 13:10; 14:8; see also Achtemeier, 1 Peter, 128 n. 57). So Israelite identity is, in this instance, enjoined onto the Christians, and God becomes their exemplar, particularly for holiness. Thus, the social comparison of worship practices highlights the value of the ingroup ransom on a dimension where the outgroup compares poorly: perishable silver and gold (Hogg and Abrams, Social Identifications, 52). The result is a heightening of ingroup status and an ethic that rejects idolatry. Verse 1:16 quotes LXX Lev 19:2 where the whole people of God was set apart by obedience to the Ten Commandments (Jobes, 1 Peter, 112, 114, 161–62) as well as “genuine mutual love” (1:22; Lev 19:18; Schutter, Hermeneutic, 57). These ethics created a clear boundary between the ingroup and the outgroup which consisted of the gentiles living around the Israelites (Lev 20:26; Achtemeier, 1 Peter, 121). The reference to obedience particularly in a context that creates clear boundaries marks the beginning of a discursive negotiation with the environment in which these Christians are embedded. The holiness to which they are called, entailing as it did a rejection of idolatry, likely marked them precisely as disobedient, particularly those who were slaves (2:18–20) or wives (3:1–6), but also those who were embedded in local economic and political relationships (2:12–17). We will see this negotiation continue as the letter progresses. In this section, then, the Christian ingroup is given continuity with the people of Israel (1:14– 17, 19–20, 22–25) and the eschatological purposes of God (1:13; 1:23–25). Topics or themes mentioned elsewhere in the canon are personalized for the Petrine audience. The depiction of God as a judge is connected both to their prayers and their behavior (1:17; Green, 1 Peter, 45), and this connection between good deeds and effective prayer will be repeated three more times (3:7, 12; 4:7). The concept of blood redemption is applied specifically to them, through Christ (vv. 18–19). The former associates of the Christians, however, become the outgroup (1:14). And that outgroup is stereotyped as those who will be judged, because the God these Christians worship also has authority over the outgroup, to judge them as well (1:17). The ingroup, however, is dependent on Christ as their benefactor (1:19–21). They are formed by the word of the Lord which is connected to the eschatological future by the quotation of Isa. 40:6–8 (1 Peter 1:24–25), and they are called to a particular ethic of mutual love (1:22).

Social Creativity: Valorizing Ingroup Identity (2:1–12) Next, the author takes his auditors through four different metaphor clusters, each of which provides a different aspect of Christian identity. First, as the “new birth” given to them by God has previously

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been announced (1:3), the addressees also must assume a new role in the family, that of “newborn infants” (2:2). In this snapshot, they are expected to get rid of a list of poor practices (2:1) and instead to develop a longing for the milk of high quality that God provides. This milk is Christ himself, and to drink of him is, according to ancient understandings of breastfeeding, to become transformed into his image (2:3; Hunt, “Alien”). The obedience of the Christians will result in a greater dependence on God, a transformation into the group exemplar, and also a dropping away of the ethics of their previous identity (1:18, 23, 24; 2:1; Schutter, Hermeneutic, 58). Second, the Christians are called “living stones.” Like the Lord (2:3), their exemplar, the ingroup is valued as “chosen and precious” in contrast to the rejection they experience from the outgroup. Then, the image shifts back into a Jewish narrative once again (Exod 19:5–6; Isa 43:20–21; Elliott, Conflict, 77), this time in a description of the temple, in which Peter’s addressees are both the stones and the priesthood. The ethos of the community in this metaphor is less one of positive obedience and more one of passive reception (note the passive in 2:5) of their positive status in the sight of God (Elliott, Conflict, 31–32, 76–77; for more on the honor 1 Peter insists accrues to Christians, see 69, 73–76). In a letter that leaves the boundaries for entry into the ingroup open, metaphors such as new birth and a temple building in which one finds oneself a stone decrease the tendency toward social mobility and instead engage in social creativity to heighten the ingroup status as a whole (Haslam et al., “Tomorrow,” 359). The sacrifices, which in this context likely refer to the suffering that rejection entails (Eve, “1 Peter,” 1266), are “acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (2:5). The work has been done; the only thing required of the Christians is that they would “believe” (2:6–7; see also 1:8), and the Greek incorporates not just mental assent but also trust (BDAG 817). The temple metaphor assumes a certain structure, and the ingroup (“you who believe”; 2:7) is thus once again implicitly valued above the outgroup, which is stereotyped as those who are “put to shame” (2:6), “those who do not believe” (2:7), those who stumble and fall (2:8–9), those who were “destined” to “disobey the word” (2:8). In this second metaphor, then, the honorable status of the ingroup is emphasized. Furthermore, the obedient/disobedient discourse continues. Although the obedience of the ingroup is not mentioned, the outgroup, the very people who mark the Christians as disobedient, are now characterized as the disobedient ones themselves: they “disobey the word” (2:8; 3:1); they “do not obey the gospel of God” (4:17), and they are compared to “the spirits in prison, who in former times did not obey” (3:19–20). If these people were regularly accusing some of the Christians of disobedience, this way of turning these accusations back on them would be especially powerful in shaping Christian identity. In the third metaphor cluster, the addressees have now become a nation of priests. Verses 9–10 might be called identity formation extraordinaire. Any previous identity they might have carried is supplemented, since they were “not a people,” but now they are “God’s own people” (2:9, 10). Being set apart (Exod 19:5–6, 10–14) as priests continues the call to holiness from 1:15–16 (Exod 19:14). It again valorizes the distance between Christians and the outgroup, those they previously identified with, and grounds their group identity within the OT narrative. However, holiness entails more than simply being distinct; it includes a vocation toward something, not just a separation from something else (Edwards, 1 Peter, 62). In Exod 19:21–25, Moses becomes an intermediary between God and the people encamped at the base of the mountain, but the whole nation of Israel is also to become “a priestly kingdom and a holy nation” in the midst of an earth that belongs to God (Exod 19:5). We have already 532

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seen an emphasis on God’s sovereignty even over the outgroup in 1 Peter (1:7, 17). As priests for the world, however, the separation between ingroup and outgroup is mitigated. The Christians’ devotion includes an element of proclamation of God’s actions. At this point in the letter, one could argue that to “proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light” (2:9) does not specify the recipients of the proclamation and therefore may simply refer to ingroup praise. However, the light/dark metaphor implies a light that carries out into the darkness, and the missional element of the ethic of proclamation will be made more explicit in sections to come (e.g., 2:9; 3:15; 4:11; Goppelt, Commentary, 150). Also, the fact that their move from darkness to light is due to God’s call leaves the boundaries of the ingroup porous and suggests a purpose for their proclamation: the incorporation of individuals from the outgroup into the ingroup. The boundary is permeable, but only in one direction. The fourth metaphor (vv. 11–12) returns to the language used at the opening of the letter. The tension between outgroup stereotyping and porous boundaries continues as God’s people are named “aliens and exiles.” This naming has the effect of connecting the people once again to Israel’s narrative (see above) and simultaneously of detaching them from their outgroup by naming it “the gentiles” despite the likelihood that at least some of the Christians would have been categorized as such before they believed. They would not have categorized themselves in such a way, however; thus, the label is available for them to use for the outgroup. And with the phrase “among the gentiles,” Christian identity rooted in Judaism is made salient even in social locations where the Christians are in the presence of the outgroup (Haslam et al., “Tomorrow,” 367–69; Hogg and Abrams, Social Identifications, 117, 123, 175). The group ethos of these “exiles” is to “abstain from the desires of the flesh” (2:11), although these are not developed into specific ethical practices at this stage. Verse 12 picks up a reframing of the suffering first mentioned in 1:6–7. The salience of their Christian identity ought to cause these Christians to prioritize the ethos of honorable behavior, even though this does not stop the slander visited on them at the present moment. Yet Peter promises that from an eschatological perspective, the praise that they ought to be receiving from the gentiles today will eventually be given to God. Thus, the obedience to God which their human lords now characterize as disobedience will one day draw praise, when they, too, adapt the ethos of Christian identity in the light of God’s coming judgment. The holiness of God’s people, then, like God’s own holiness, does not merely exist for itself, but also works for the sake of the inclusion of others.

Intersectional Identities: The Ethics of Obedient Disobedience (2:13—3:9) This section begins (2:13) and ends (3:8–9) with general instructions involving submission to “every human institution” outside of the group (2:13; 3:9), and “love for one another” (3:8; 2:17) within the ingroup. In between, the crosscutting identities of the listeners are addressed with participles of means (Achtemeier, 1 Peter, 194) that are examples of the ways different people could “accept the authority of every human institution” (2:13). Christians are not only called on to obey God and disobey those around them. Instead, they are repeatedly called to a measure of obedience (e.g., 2:13). What does it mean to be a Christian and a house “slave” (2:18)? What

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about wives with unbelieving husbands (3:1–6)? Finally, how should husbands behave toward their Christian (Green, 1 Peter, 99–100) wives (3:7)? So far, insiders disobedient to the outgroup have been characterized as obedient to the Lord and the outgroup has been stereotyped as disobedient. Now ingroup identity is nuanced somewhat. Christians are not to always disobey their human lords but instead are called to a measure of obedience (e.g., 2:13). When possible, they are to “silence the ignorance of the foolish” (2:15, more outgroup characterization) by honoring the outgroup (2:13–17) and “by doing right” (2:15). By behaving according to cultural norms, the Christian expresses his or her broader cultural identity thus making that salient. Such crossed categorization reduces bias and allows Christians to continue to live with non-Christians while also reducing the likelihood of bias against Christians that leads to persecution (Dovidio, “Recategorization,” 77). Horrell (Becoming, 231) notes the nuancing in 2:17 that enjoins only “honor” to “the emperor” as, indeed, to “everyone,” and “fear,” or, better, worship, only to God. The instructions to slaves, wives, and husbands should be seen in the light of a nuanced obedience that Horrell calls “polite resistance” (Becoming, 236–38). Thus, while Christians are to “accept the authority of every human institution” (2:13), “do right” according to the governors (2:14–15), and honor “everyone” including the “emperor” (2:17), their Christian identity is made salient even with regard to those authorities by the reminders that they belong to God, are “free people” with respect to the human authorities. The household to which they primarily belong is that of the “believers” (2:16–17). The ethics of honorability are brought up next. The giving of honor in 2:17 can be connected to the behavior of Christ mentioned in 2:22–23, since his exemplar dishonors those who were abusing him. That same dishonor accrues to unbelievers (4:5; 3:16; 2:7b–8; 4:17–18; Elliott, Conflict, 75). But honor accrues to slaves and wives, slaves for their suffering (2:19–20), wives for their lack of ostentation and their gentleness (3:4). The obedience due to human authorities is “for the Lord’s sake” (2:13) and is thus predicated not on the just or unjust decisions of the rulers but on the Lord. This phrase pushes back against a simple dichotomy that might have suggested that obedience to the Lord always meant disobedience to other authorities. Here, some obedience to these other authorities is categorized as a way to bring honor to the Lord. In 1976, Robinson expressed the tension well: “The parallel today might be a warning to Christians in South Africa to make certain that, if they are going to oppose apartheid (as of course they must), they do not allow themselves to be convicted for doing wrong rather than for doing good” (Redating, 152). Slaves, wives, husbands, and people in general will, when acting as “obedient children” (1:14), inevitably act in ways that those around them and even those in close relationships with them will oppose. This behavior is called “do[ing] right” (2:20), appropriating and redefining outgroup terminology (Williams, Good Works, 268–70). Yet, there will be many cases where they will be constrained to live with consideration, respect, and even obedience to those in power (258). Although there might exist “those who do wrong” (2:14), “the foolish” (2:15), those who “use [their] freedom as a pretext for evil” (2:16), as well as some who “repay evil for evil” and “abuse for abuse” (3:8), these people are othered. As mentioned above, this cross-categorization may allow Christians some measure of self-protection. First Peter 2:18–3:7 repeats these ethics for three different identities—to “endure pain while suffering unjustly” (2:19; cf. 2:20). The slaves are particularly enjoined to defer to their masters even when they are unjustly beaten (2:18, 20). Note that the type of slave addressed here is specifically a house slave, so one must assume either that these instructions were not intended for 534

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other types of slaves or, more likely, that this was the most common crosscutting identity among the letter’s recipients. Slaves may be suffering unjustly not so much “being aware of God” as the NRSV has it, but rather “because of conscientiousness towards God” (2:19; BDAG 968); in other words, they are prioritizing duty to God over duty to masters (Goppelt, Commentary, 18–20). Their behavior is modeled on the exemplar of the group, Christ, who also suffered unjustly (vv. 21–25; Elliott, Conflict, 73). A few differences are mentioned, however. Christ endured suffering for the salvation of the listeners (vv. 21, 24–25), whereas provincials, slaves, and wives should obey because “it is God’s will” to “silence the ignorance of the foolish” (2:15) and so that unbelieving husbands would “be won over” (3:1), to gain “credit” with God (2:19–20), to fulfill their calling (2:21) and to “live for righteousness” (2:24). Furthermore, although the NRSV suggests that Christ “entrusted himself ” to the justice of God (2:23), the Greek does not include the reflexive (Achtemeier, 1 Peter, 201). Rather than entrusting himself, Christ entrusted the situation and thus also his revilers to God (BDAG 762). Thus, the injustice of Christ’s abusers, and by extension of those who abuse the provincials, the slaves, and the wives, is also left to the justice of God. The ambiguity of this phrase highlights the letter’s reluctance to strongly stereotype the outgroup as ultimately condemned, and this reluctance contributes to the maintenance of porous group boundaries (see also 3:1–2, 15–16). Wives are specifically proffered an ethos of “purity and reverence” (3:2), fiscal modesty in apparel (3:3), and “a gentle and quiet spirit” (3:4). For this, wives are given a different exemplar, Sarah. The submission of Sarah in Gen 18:12 (Achtemeier, 1 Peter, 215), which is the only place where she calls Abraham “Lord,” is in reference to her willingness (although full of doubt) to bear a child (pace Martin, “The TestAbr”). Thus, the obedience enjoined may relate to a wife’s willingness to continue to bear children for her unbelieving husband (Mattingly, Imperialism, 98). Since wives are also told to “do what is good and never let fears alarm” them, the fears would be of disabilities or death from childbirth. This interpretation is strengthened by the passage related to husbands (see below). Furthermore, the emphasis on “your [own] husbands” (3:1) may also carry with it the implication that unmarried household women are free to reject the authority of other men, if they can. Wives are also to receive honor from their Christian husbands (3:7). This verse is particularly poorly translated in the NRSV, as well as in several other English translations; the Greek suggests that “consideration” be connected to “weaker sex” and “honor” to “heirs” (Achtemeier, 1 Peter, 204–05; Goppelt, Commentary, 225; Jobes, 1 Peter, 202; Green, 1 Peter, 90): “Husbands, in the same way, [accept the authority of every human institution] by sharing a home with your wife, knowing that she is a weaker vessel, and showing them honor, as co-heirs with you of the gracious gift of life, so that nothing may hinder your prayers” (my translation; see also foreign language translations such as, for example, Bible en français courant). With the reference to Sarah’s submission to Abraham in the matter of her pregnancy, consideration for a woman’s limited capacity to bear children and remain in good health may be in view by the characterization of women as weak, particularly if (as suggested by LXX Deut 22:13; 24:1; and 25:5; Davids, First Epistle, 122) “sharing a home” could be a euphemism for sex. Although one could argue that references to women as “vessels” in connection with childbearing are Rabbinical (b. Meg. 12b; b. B. Meṣ. 84b) and therefore too late to be used in this discussion, it was in any case in childbearing that a woman was most vulnerable in the ancient world, and therefore, that her weakness was most evident, and she had the most to fear (3:6). Thus, while 535

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Christian women are told to submit to their husbands, particularly in bringing children into the world, Christian husbands, correspondingly, are enjoined not to forget the frailty of women in this area, not to abuse their power to beget. Such injunctions are especially likely in the eras before reliable birth control. Self-control in men would also have signaled virtue to the surrounding culture (Conway, Behold, 24, 54; cf. Philo, Mos. 1.28). Furthermore, if the plural in the second half of 3:7 refers to all the women of the Christian man’s household, they should also be categorized as co-heirs and therefore treated with honor (Green, 1 Peter, 99–100). The clause would then provide a counterpart to the (sexual) autonomy given to household women in 3:1. What effect does this “polite resistance” have? While “doing good” in accordance with God but in opposition to the wishes of unbelieving masters, husbands, wives, and the local community (3:10–4:2) will bring resistance now and glory later, those whose lives are particularly vulnerable are allowed to moderate their vulnerability with submission (e.g., Achtemeier, 1 Peter, 208). The possibility of rebelling completely by leaving one’s human lord is not mentioned, perhaps because such a move would be likely to ultimately lead to more severe abuse (Williams, Good Works, 204). Instead, the combination of obedience and disobedience could have the effect of reducing the harshness of human lords. Those with power often tell themselves stories in which marginalized people are happy to serve (Scott, Domination, 4, 18, 58). By revealing the power relationships and the implicit violence (potential [2:14; 3:17] or real [2:19]) they contain, the disobedience of the slaves and wives makes clear what their human lords may prefer to have concealed. Categorization threat could lead subordinates to want to distance themselves from Christianity in some social situations. However, 1 Peter also reassures slaves and wives that they have the agency to decide for themselves where their obedience belongs to God and where to masters and husbands (“live as free people”). If they have properly categorized themselves as Christians, they will act according to group norms (Hogg and Abrams, Social Identifications, 172–73) and maintain holiness even in the face of reprisals from the outgroup. Marginalized Christians are changing the boundaries of their human masters’ ability to control them but are not threatening to expose the injustice of the whole system. They continue to respect others (wives, husbands, slave owners, rulers) in a way that leaves those others the opportunity to join the ingroup if they become convicted by their own poor behavior (Elliott, Conflict, 73). Christ, who also refused to comply with the system and yet submitted to its cruelty, has become the exemplar. Furthermore, by both stereotyping the outgroup and seeking to improve the status of the ingroup, Christians strengthen ingroup commitment (Ellemers, Spears, and Doosje, “Self,” 176–77). The honor a husband should show his wife is then matched by the ethos of the greater community, one of “unity of spirit, sympathy, love for one another, a tender heart, and a humble mind” (3:8). Certainly, if the weak ought not to repay their human lords’ injustices with evil, much more ought such a spirit of retaliation be absent from the Christian community. Ultimately, this attitude is tied (as with husbands and wives, 3:7) to the eschatological return of Christ with an inheritance of blessings for the faithful (3:9). Within the bookends of ingroup love, this section gives general instructions involving a measure of submission to the outgroup. Verse 3:9 is a hinge, promoting non-retaliation certainly for insiders, but moving the discussion back to the outgroup.

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Identity Performance: Letting Outgroup Members In (3:10–22) Now Peter moves on to more detailed ethics for doing good according to God. His addressees are “the righteous” (3:12), those who are connected to the Lord by means of their prayers (3:7, 12). More than that, they are “eager to do what is good” (3:13). The outgroup, on the other hand, is stereotyped as “those who do evil” (3:12) and “those who abuse [them] for [their] good conduct” (3:16). It is, in fact, good conduct according to Christian ethos (2:15, 17, 18; 3:2, 16, 17; 4:2, 19; cf. 2:14; 3:4; 2:19; 3:16, 21; Elliott, Conflict, 73) that results in Christian suffering “for doing what is right” (3:14, 17) without fear (3:14), with Christ as the exemplar (3:17). Elliott also notes the clear separation into two groups that 3:13–4:19 draws (Conflict, 34). Suffering for doing evil is contrasted with suffering for doing good (3:14–17, as in 2:18–20). In these passages, Christians are told not to be “intimidated,” and we hear that they are being “beaten,” “maligned,” and abused for their “good conduct in Christ.” Yet the strength of the divisions rhetorically presented in these passages should not obscure the intersectionality of the experiences of slaves of unbelieving masters, wives of unbelieving husbands, and people of various social statuses living under pagan rulers. While Elliott (Conflict, 35) suggests that obedience implies total disentanglement with gentiles (Conflict, 34), this is likely not possible for most and is not required according to 4:11. Elliott also rejects the possibility that 1 Peter calls for total separation, yet he equates the outgroup with the devil (Conflict, 41). Perhaps this is because he envisions gentiles as “hostile local neighbors” (Conflict, 56; cf. 65, 68, 78), rather than members of one’s own household, such as slave masters, husbands, and wives. In fact, the separate ethos enjoined on fellow believers is necessarily emphasized specifically because of the intersecting identities detailed in 2:13–3:9 (Goppelt, Commentary, 19). But this ethos when suffering is extended in two ways, first, with specific ethical injunctions. Christians are again connected to the Hebrew Bible (LXX Ps 33). The ethical exhortation to speak no evil or deceit (3:10), to “do good” and “pursue” peace (3:11) are connected, as for the husbands (3:7), to the effectiveness of their prayers. Not only do Christians honor Christ in their hearts, but they are also to honor him verbally when asked (3:15). It is, in fact, their hope in eternal realities that might prompt others to question them, and when this happens they are to reply “with gentleness and reverence” (3:16). The porous boundary of the group is again left open. As previously when the judgment was left to God (2:23), somewhat similarly, judgment falls on the unrighteous in the form of “shame” (3:16). But this judgment is not the emphasis of the passage. In 3:12, for example, the next phrase from LXX Ps 33 (LES), “to destroy utterly the memory of them from the earth,” is left out. The second way the ethos of the community during the times of suffering is extended is by reframing that suffering in the light of heavenly realities (Williams, Good Works, 251–54). Christ is less an exemplar in this passage and more of a leader, because his suffering effected salvation. Noah, his wife, his sons, and their wives (Gen 7:7) become the exemplars here—just as God brought them safely through the waters, God has brought the Christians to salvation through baptism. Baptism, in this case, is not the means of salvation but, corresponding to the water through which the eight people attained salvation (Goppelt, Commentary, 265), is the danger one must safely pass through to reach salvation, the salvation that Christ procured (pace Achtemeier,

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1 Peter, 246; Green, 1 Peter, 137–38). Especially for slaves and wives of unbelievers, to choose to be baptized might have been a dangerous choice. Noah provided salvation for his family by following the will of God (see 4:2); Christ provided salvation by suffering according to the will of God, and baptism saves because, while dangerous, the baptized have also obeyed the will of God, cleansing their conscience (3:21). Thus, Peter tells this community that they are to see themselves as obedient, and asks them to continue to be obedient, and to explain their obedience to those who ask, returning blessings for abuse.

An Eschatological Future (4:1–11) Verses 4:1–2 highlight Christ as exemplar again and reframe the suffering of Christians because of disobedience to their human lords (possibly by choosing baptism) in a way that highlights their obedience to Jesus Christ. They are to disobey “human desires,” their own or that of others, which are now called “sin” and instead are to obey “the will of God.” Similarly, they are no longer to obey the pleasures of “the Gentiles” (4:3), and this disobedience of cultural norms is causing them to be “reviled for the name of Christ” (4:14). Peter then moves on to delineate the stereotypical ethics of the outgroup for this eschatological community. The gentiles are described in typical fashion (4:3–4), but the reframing of obedience and disobedience continues in this description since the behavior of the gentiles, culminating in “idolatry” is now characterized as “lawless” thus once again renaming as disobedient the things those with power in the society call obedient. In v. 5, the delivery of the gentiles before the judgment of God, hinted at before (see above), is made explicit. Yet hope is still extended; even those judged may live (4:6; Horrell, Becoming, 83–84). First Peter then goes back to describing ingroup ethics. In v. 7 the connection between God’s version of good behavior and the effectiveness of prayer is made for the fourth time. Obedience to God has its rewards. Of what, specifically, does obedience to God consist? Those living in light of the glory and future glorification of God (4:11) should be loving (4:8), hospitable (4:9), serving one another by using the gifts that God has given along with divine strength (vv. 10–11). These group ethics contrast with 4:3 and provide the detailed descriptors for the two groups named in 4:2, those who live “by human desires” and those who live “by the will of God” (Schutter, Hermeneutic, 72). The group to which Peter calls his listeners is fundamentally different from the other roles Christians might play because their salient Christianity prioritizes holiness, which may or may not, at various moments, line up with obedience to a human master but which will ultimately bring honor from the very people who disparage them at the present moment (2:12; 3:16; 4:11). Loyalty to God means not only loyalty to the people of God but also the giving of honor to God through words and behavior (1:3; 2:5, 9, 12; 4:11, 16; 5:11 cited by Elliott, Conflict, 78), with an eternal exemplar, Jesus Christ, that again connects the group identity to the eschaton. The eschatological vision presented in 4:3–11 may be drawn particularly strongly because it would have been more usual for people to categorize themselves as a member of an unbelieving household, a servant of a pagan ruler, or an inhabitant of a particular location.

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Summary (4:12–19) Now that some of the positive ethics of the community have been set forth, Peter returns once more to the necessity of keeping this ethos even when suffering. Listeners are again enfolded into the community by the names that Peter gives them: “beloved” (v. 12), “the household of God” (v. 17), “the righteous” (v. 18), and “those suffering” but because of their obedience to “God’s will” (v. 19). Additionally, Peter draws close to them as an author by again counting himself as one of them (v. 17). The incorporation of an apostle into the community increases its status, another instance of social creativity. Unlike the surprise of the gentiles at the lack of participation of Christians with them (4:4), those of the community will “not be surprised” (v. 12) by their suffering, in the light of the eschaton. Their ethos is to be one of joy because they are able to imitate Christ, their exemplar. Verse 14 again refers to those who are reviled as obedient and calls them blessed, with the honor of the presence of the Spirit of God. But again, disobedience to human authorities in obedience to God cannot be stretched to include things that are disobedient to both human authorities and God (4:15). Disobedience to both is a disgrace. Disobeying human authorities while obeying God, earning the monikers “disobedient” and “Christian” (4:16), is a reason to give God glory. Like disobedient, the term “Christian” was likely derogatory in the mouths of gentiles, yet it became a self-designation for the ingroup and therefore a term of honor. Other terms throughout the letter highlight the salience of Christian identity by discursively creating the ingroup as a household. Although they are “aliens” living in “exile,” in other words, far from home (1:17; 2:11), they are nevertheless “built into a spiritual house” (2:5). Although the slaves are house slaves (2:18) and the husbands are to continue sharing a home with their wives (3:7), these household connections are superseded by their more salient role as household “stewards of the manifold grace of God” (4:10). They are, ultimately then, “the household of God” (4:17; Wan, “Repairing,” 294–301). Thus, although previously their primary identity may have been as members of their own families (whether as slaves, wives, or husbands), Peter calls them to primarily identify as members of God’s household. God, not any one human being, is the head of their household. This call is related to loyalty as well; one is expected to be loyal to the ingroup (Elliott, Conflict, 59). And whether the primary ingroup is one’s actual household or one’s Christian household has a strong effect on behavior. Despite the places where the ethics of “the gentiles” and the ethics of Christians overlap, Peter draws a clear line between the two groups in the face of God’s judgment. Those who now claim the Christians are disobedient will then be categorized as disobedient to “the gospel of God” (4:17). This outgroup is further stereotyped as “the ungodly and the sinners” (4:18), whereas the Christians are “the righteous” (Prov 11:31). In this context of judgment, the Christians turn themselves over to God (unlike in 2:23), but it is specifically to God’s faithfulness that they entrust themselves.

Ingroup Ethics of Mutual Submission (5:1–11) The end of the letter elucidates the order to be found within the community. Gifts have previously been mentioned; they are to be used to serve, and in the power of God (4:10–11). However, this 539

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section addresses “elders” (5:1, 5) and “you who are younger” (5:5) without discussing the way these roles might intersect with gifts. If an elder is determined by gifts, but especially if elders and younger ones refer to age or length of time since baptism regardless of gifts, the freedom to use particularly the gift of speaking mentioned in ch. 4 is dependent on the very mutual service, humility, and submission described in this section (5:2–6). Peter names himself as an elder (5:1) and then charges elders to be “examples to the flock” (v. 3) thus presenting himself and the local elders as exemplars for the community, at least insofar as they embody the group ethics: humility without greed or pride (5:2, 3, 5). These elders in particular are connected to Jesus’s future return, but for these elders only a reward is assumed (5:4) although eschatological judgment has been mentioned previously in this letter (1:17; 2:12, 23; 4:5–6, 17). This reward, “the crown of glory,” promises honor for the elders in the place of any honor they may forego by becoming shepherds rather than lords (5:2, 3). This metaphor of shepherding has been mentioned before (2:25) and provides a prototype for the community: Christ in his suffering and glory is the primary exemplar (e.g., 2:21; 3:18–22); the elders, including Peter, are to model themselves on him; and other believers, as we will see, are also following the same exemplar (5:9). Additionally, the flock metaphor once again calls for stronger self-categorization into the ingroup, since sheep who wander run a greater danger of being eaten (Eve, “1 Peter,” 1269). The whole community is then incorporated into Israel’s narrative (LXX Prov 3:34), and named “the humble” (5:5) as opposed to the outgroup, “the proud” (5:5). All are to be humble, too, toward God (v. 6) whom they trust to care for them (v. 7). All of this humility might have the effect of making the Christians powerless to resist their oppressors, but there is one to whom they must not be submit, the devil (v. 8). In preparation for him they must be disciplined and “alert” (v. 8); against him they must “resist” (v. 9). Note that the goal of resistance, in this case, is to be “steadfast in . . . faith” (v. 9). This indicates that the goal of the devil is not, primarily, to tempt believers to one of the behaviors of the outgroup mentioned previously (e.g., 3:1; 4:1), but rather, as in 1:7, to persuade believers to join the outgroup in their lack of faith. Again here, then, we see the nuanced path these Christians must walk, one of humility before God in the midst of the suffering which comes as a result of resistance against those with power over them. The honor of the community is again appealed to, though not in so many words, by making salient the broader, superordinate group before whom they would want to appear “steadfast” (v. 9), at least comparatively so in their sufferings. But the ultimate vindication of the community will occur at the eschaton, at the hands of God (vv. 10–11).

Familial Farewells (5:12–14) The closing, while typical and standardized, incorporates a few last elements of identity formation. The addressees are named one final time: “You who are in Christ” (v. 14). They are given an ethos in the face of their suffering, the ethos repeated throughout the letter, “stand firm” (v. 12), which implies an ethic of continued obedience to God and possible concomitant disobedience to human authorities as well as an injunction to practice familial love (5:14; Elliott, Conflict, 36). This ethos is further emphasized by declaring it to be “the true grace of God” (v. 12), which, along

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with having been “chosen” (5:13), demonstrates the honor God assigns to them (Elliott, Conflict, 77–78). Finally, they are reminded once more of the others within the broader community: Peter himself, Silvanus, the church in Rome, along with Mark (vv. 12–13). And the familial language used in these three verses makes Christian identity salient, most particularly for people who seem to be suffering as a result of their embeddedness in unbelieving households (2:18–3:6).

Conclusions In forming the social identity of Christian communities across Asia Minor, 1 Peter offers its auditors a new narrative rooted in the story of Israel and reaching forward to a future of honor. New labels are proposed for people who have been called disobedient: “exiles,” “obedient children,” and “chosen and precious.” Christians living in non-Christian households, pagan cities, and under the Roman Empire are given authority to negotiate their intersectional identities in ways that keep Christianity as their superordinate identity and yet may lessen their abuse and leave the way open for outgroup members to join the ingroup. This will demand the ethics of nonviolent resistance and an ethos of mutual love. Although in their discursive environment, they are denigrated as “Christians,” 1 Peter reclaims the term as an ingroup label, and generally engages in the social creativity necessary to raise the status of the believing community. The role of suffering in the communities of 1 Peter is particularly interesting. The experience of suffering seems so pervasive that one might call it an identity marker. However, the multiple locations of the various communities (1:1) and the multiple reasons for suffering (3:13–17) suggest a more nuanced conclusion. If suffering, particularly patient suffering in the hope of ultimate vindication (4:13), were by itself a marker of Christian identity, then it is likely that competition would arise especially between groups in different geographical locations and perhaps also within the smaller communities (Tajfel and Turner, “Integrative Theory,” 181). Intergroup comparison is minimized in this letter first by heightening outgroup contrasts (1:18–19; 2:1) and secondly through the ingroup markers of holiness, witness to God, and mutual love and humility (1:15–16; 3:15; 5:5). Suffering itself is nuanced so that merely having suffered for any reason is not a sufficient ingroup marker (4:15–16), only non-retaliatory suffering in obedience to God. Finally, the letter increases social cohesion by emphasizing the common future (1:3–5) that all Christians will share (2:6).

References Achtemeier, Paul. 1 Peter: A Commentary on 1 Peter. Hermeneia: A Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996. Conway, Colleen M. Behold the Man: Jesus and Greco-Roman Masculinity. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Davids, Peter H. The First Epistle of Peter. NICNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990. Dovidio, John F., Samuel L. Gaertner, Gordon Hodson, Blake M. Riek, Kelly M. Johnson, and Missy Houlette. “Recategorization and Crossed Categorization: The Implications of Group Salience and

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Representations for Reducing Bias.” Pages 65–89 in Multiple Social Categorization: Processes, Models and Applications. Edited by R. J. Crisp and M. Hewstone. New York: Psychology, 2006. Edwards, Dennis R. 1 Peter. The Story of God Bible Commentary. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2017. Ellemers, Naomi, Russel Spears, and Bertjan Doosje. “Self and Social Identity.” Annual Review of Psychology 53 (2002): 161–86. Elliott, John H. Conflict, Community, and Honor: 1 Peter in Social-Scientific Perspective. Cascade Companions 2. Eugene: Cascade, 2007. Eve, Eric. “1  Peter.” Pages 1263–70 in The Oxford Bible Commentary. Edited by John Muddiman and John Barton. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. Goppelt, Leonhard. A Commentary on 1 Peter. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1978. Green, Joel B. 1 Peter. The Two Horizons New Testament Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007. Haslam, S. Alexander, Naomi Ellemers, Stephen D. Reicher, Katherine J. Reynolds, and Michael T. Schmitt. “The Social Identity Perspective Today: An Overview of its Defining Ideas.” Pages 341–56 in Rediscovering Social Identity: Key Readings. Edited by Tom Postmes and Nyla R. Branscombe. Key Readings in Social Psychology. New York: Psychology, 2010. Haslam, S. Alexander, Naomi Ellemers, Stephen D. Reicher, Katherine J. Reynolds, and Michael T. Schmitt. “The Social Identity Perspective Tomorrow: Opportunities and Avenues for Advance.” Pages 357–79 in Rediscovering Social Identity: Key Readings. Edited by Tom Postmes and Nyla R. Branscombe. Key Readings in Social Psychology. New York: Psychology, 2010. Hogg, Michael A. and Dominic Abrams. Social Identifications: A Social Psychology of Intergroup Relations and Group Processes. London: Routledge, 1988. Horrell, David G. Becoming Christian: Essays on 1 Peter and the Making of Christian Identity. London: Bloomsbury, 2013. Hunt, Laura J. “Alien and Degenerate Milk: The Role of the Semiotic Object and Cultural Units in 1 Peter 2:1–3 for Elucidating Social Identity Formation in the Letter.” Paper presented at the 2017 Annual Meeting of the Society for Biblical Literature, Boston, MA. 20 November. Jobes, Karen H. 1 Peter. BECNT. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2005. Martin, Troy W. “The TestAbr and the Background of 1Pet 3,6.” ZNW 90 (1999): 139–46. Mattingly, D. J. Imperialism, Power, and Identity: Experiencing the Roman Empire. Miriam S. Balmuth Lectures in Ancient History and Archaeology. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2014. Robinson, John A. T. Redating the New Testament. London: SCM, 1976. Schutter, William L. Hermeneutic and Composition in 1 Peter. WUNT 2.30. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1989. Scott, James C. Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990. Smith-Christopher, Daniel L. A Biblical Theology of Exile. Overtures to Biblical Theology. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2002. Tajfel, Henri, and John C. Turner. “An Integrative Theory of Intergroup Conflict.” Pages 173–90 in Rediscovering Social Identity: Key Readings. Edited by Tom Postmes and Nyla R. Branscombe. Key Readings in Social Psychology. New York: Psychology, 2010. Tucker, J. Brian. Remain in Your Calling: Paul and the Continuation of Social Identities in 1 Corinthians. Eugene: Pickwick, 2011. Wan, Wei Hsien. “Repairing Social Vertigo: Spatial Production and Belonging in 1 Peter.” Pages 287–303 in The Urban World and the First Christians. Edited by Steve Walton, Paul R. Trebilco, and David W. J. Gill. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2017. Williams, Travis B. Good Works in 1 Peter: Negotiating Social Conflict and Christian Identity in the Greco-Roman World. WUNT 2.337. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014. Williams, Travis B. Persecution in 1 Peter: Differentiating and Contextualizing Early Christian Suffering. NovTSup 145. Leiden: Brill, 2012.

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Chapter  23

2 Peter R. Alan Streett

Introduction Second Peter purports to be a farewell letter written to those who will survive the author’s death (1:12–15). It serves to remind those left behind that Christ will return to set up his kingdom, but during the interim false teachers will infiltrate the church, pervert the truth, and turn many to their pernicious ways. Therefore, the recipients must protect the apostolic tradition and guard against adopting aberrant doctrines and behaviors that will bring shame to the cause of Christ.

Author The author claims to be “Simeon Peter” (1:1), one of the original Twelve who was an eyewitness to the Transfiguration (1:17–18). He speaks of his imminent demise (1:13–15) as predicted by Jesus many years before (John 21:18–19). Additionally, he mentions this is his second letter (3:1), presumably written to the same audience as 1 Peter. Many scholars dispute Petrine authorship, noting the letter is written in a sophisticated Hellenistic style, which seems out of place for a Jewish Galilean fisherman. One recalls how members of the Sanhedrin identified Peter as an uneducated man (Acts 4:13). While the degree of Peter’s literacy is unknown, he could conceivably have signed his name or possibly read at an elementary level, but did he have the ability to write at a level found in 2 Peter? Much of 2 Peter is also written from a Hellenistic point of view. For example, the author speaks of his readers as “participants in the divine nature” (1:4), a purely Greek concept, and later speaks of angels who sinned as being cast into “hell”/Tartarus (2:4), the netherworld of Greek mythology. Would the apostle to the circumcised (Gal 2:7–8) have written from a Hellenistic perspective? The author refers to “words spoken in the past” by prophets and apostles (3:1–2), both of which suggest that his readers belong to a later generation of believers, placing the letter beyond the Apostle Peter’s lifetime. This seems evident when the author also mentions that his audience has access to the “wisdom” found “in all” of the Apostle Paul’s “letters” (3:15–16). The Pauline corpus was not likely accepted, collected, and distributed as holy writ until the end of the first century CE. Since scholarly consensus holds that much of 2 Peter 2 is dependent on the Letter of Jude, a late-first-century date is probable, suggesting it did not come from the pen of “Simeon Peter.”

T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament

If the above arguments are viable, then 2 Peter was written pseudonymously (Neyrey, 128). A common feature of pseudonymous letters included placing a prominent name (e.g., “Simeon Peter”) in the salutation with personal notes attributed to the supposed author throughout (Green, 139). The pseudonymous theory, however, does not have universal support. A minority of scholars accept that Peter is the author and respond to the more critical objections (Carson and Moo, 661–63). For instance, they suggest that the Hellenistic writing style and perspective might be attributed to Silvanus, whom they suggest served as Peter’s amanuensis in the first letter (1 Peter 5:12), and served the same function in 2 Peter. With regard to Peter’s reliance on Jude, they aver that 2 Peter actually predated Jude or that both letters used a common source for their materials (Reicke, 189–190). Others theorize the letter might have been written by a follower of Peter under his name in order to preserve his teaching and represent his thinking (Reicke, 140).

Date The date of 2 Peter is intricately linked to authorship. If it is Peter, the letter was written prior to 68 CE. If it is pseudonymous, the date was closer to 90 CE, especially if it is dependent on Jude. When examining vocabulary, fifty-seven words in 2 Peter are not found in any other NT texts. Fifteen of these words appear in the Hellenistic Jewish writings of Philo and Josephus (Davids, The Letters, 131), again pointing to a later date. Second Peter also contains some of the same literary features as 1 and 2 Clement, Acts of Peter, and The Shepherd of Hermes, placing it at a later rather than earlier date.

Audience The author suggests that he is addressing the same audience (3:1) as in his first epistle, which marks the readers as members of churches in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia located along the southern border of the Black Sea. The writer warns his readers to be on guard against the corrupting influence of false teachers who have and/or will infiltrate the churches. They must also protect their sacred meal from becoming defiled by these interlopers.

Literary Form and Structure When examined in light of its genre and arrangement of materials, three types of literature are recognizable: (1) Epistle, (2) Testament, (3) Persuasive speech. Second Peter follows a modified NT epistle structure that includes (a) a typical opening with the words “grace and peace” (1:1–2); (b) exhortations (5–11); (c) a conclusion (3:17–18a); and (d) a closing doxology (18b). Yet, unlike most letters 2 Peter does not identify the recipients by

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name, but addresses them simply as “those who have received a faith as precious as ours” (1:1). Also absent is a thanksgiving section, usually found in other letters. Bauckham identifies 2 Peter as a “testament” or farewell speech in which a dying patriarch or hero addresses the generation being left behind (Bauckham, 131). Usually testaments include ethical exhortations, blessings, and warnings that the dying person wants his readers to remember after his decease. It is clear in Second Peter that the audience will outlive the author (1:12–15). He, therefore, reminds them that after his death they must live above reproach and not emulate the false teachers’ behavior or their mocking attitude toward Christ’s coming and future judgment (1:16, 21; 3:9). Second Peter finds common ground with other testaments like the Testament of Abraham, Testament of the Twelve Patriarchs, and Testament of Job, or even the Testament of Moses (Deuteronomy 31–33), Testament of Jacob (Genesis 49), Jesus’s soliloquy to the Twelve (John 13–17), Paul’s last speech to the Ephesian elders (Acts 20:17–35), and Paul’s final exhortations to Timothy (2 Tim 4:6). As a persuasive speech, 2 Peter uses rhetorical devices designed to move the audience to adopt his own point of view. The structure unfolds in three stages: (1) Exordium (1:3–15), which establishes rapport with the audience, introduces vital issues, exhorts the readers to live up to their calling, and to remember the injunctions that will follow; (2) Probatio (1:16–3:13), which indicts and refutes the teaching and aberrant behavior of the false teachers; and (3) Peratio, which recapitulates the charges against the heretics and pleads for the audience to live according to kingdom ethics (3:14–18).

Theological Significance and Importance Second Peter offers valuable insight into the early church’s theological understanding of God, Christ, salvation, and judgment to come. God is presented as the one who creates everything (3:5), inspires prophets and apostles (1:21), and finally judges the world (3:8–10). Jesus is depicted as kurios/Lord (1:2, 8, 10, 14; 2:20; 3:2, 18); sōtēr/Savior (1:1, 10; 2:20; 3:2, 18), the one chosen to deliver believers from the world of corruption; despotēs/master (2:1); God’s huis/son (1:17), the one with a unique relationship to God; and christos/Christ (1:1, 8, 10, 14, 16; 2:20; 3:18), that is, the promised anointed one or messiah king. Each of the above titles had political overtones. In the ancient world there was no separation of religion and politics; therefore, one must avoid interpreting these appellations as religious only. Jesus was viewed by his followers as a political figure with a kingdom that subsumed and relativized all other rulers (Davids, The Letters, 152). All but the last of the titles above (christos) were also ascribed to every emperor of Rome. Augustus was the first Caesar to receive the title “savior” because he gained victory over Marc Antony and rescued the Republic. He was also declared to be the “Son of God” because he represented on earth the divinized Julius Caesar who had gained godhood via apotheosis. Augustus was “Lord” of all. He was “Master” of land and sea. All his successors received similar designations. But now the Caesars faced competition from another whose followers proclaimed him to be the cosmic ruler.

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Second Peter makes a single mention of the Holy Spirit (1:21) as the one who moved the prophets to speak on behalf of God. In 2 Peter the Spirit serves as a conduit of inspiration. Eschatology finds a significant role in 2 Peter. The author soon expects to face his own death (personal eschatology, 1:15) and also warns of widespread judgment and/or deliverance to come (universal eschatology, 1:16; 2:9; 3:7, 9–12). He anticipates the “new heavens and a new earth where righteousness is at home” (3:13). In 2 Peter eschatology is an incentive to holiness. As believers wait on the parousia, they are encouraged to embrace godly behavior and maintain doctrinal integrity. Such instructions are pertinent for Christ-followers of all ages.

Social Identity Approach When people join or align themselves with a new group, society, or movement, their social identity is reconstituted. This involves embracing new beliefs and adopting new behaviors in accordance with the group’s expectations. How did the members in the Christ-movement see themselves? What were the group’s unique social norms that distinguished them from the rest of society? Under the old covenant Jews kept the Law of Moses, which marked them as the people of God. These covenantal standards set the Hebrew people apart from their Gentile neighbors. What social indicators characterize the new covenant follower of Christ? Christ-followers were characterized by two outward or observable markers: (1) baptism “in the name of Jesus” and (2) the agapé feast. While baptism is not mentioned directly in 2 Peter, the author alludes to it when he speaks of “cleansing of past sins” (1:9). This constitutes a change of lifestyle and a new identity that the Christ-followers must maintain, but not in isolation or as individuals. The recipients of 2 Peter were all baptized into Christ and pledged their allegiance to him and his kingdom—a political alternative to Rome. Their new social identity was now linked to Christ and not Caesar. Their behavior was now to reflect a new social ethic, based on Christ’s teaching and example. Social identity is group identity. The writer of 2 Peter “works to foster communal identity” among his audience, which involves ongoing identity formation (Miller, 147–48). The old ways must be forsaken. Christ-followers joined together weekly to eat a communal meal. This was not unusual in and of itself, since the church took the form of a Greco-Roman voluntary association or supper club (Streett, Subversive, 46–47). People throughout the Empire gathered regularly with those of like mind and interests to eat together. The Empire saw meals as a means of fashioning social identity and molding people into compliant members of society. Banqueting activities, which included a deipnon (main meal) and symposion (after-dinner activities) “were used to create and uphold status and allegiance to Rome and its gods” (Tucker and Baker, 9). Church banquets were different because they (a) were dedicated to the Lord Jesus Christ rather than to a Roman deity or Caesar, (b) involved conscious egalitarianism unlike the status-centered and maleoriented seating and eating arrangements at a pagan table, and (c) included symposion activities, for example, praying to Jesus and his Father for benefaction, reading of Christ-related texts, teaching about the kingdom of God, exhorting believers to adopt an alternative ethical lifestyle,

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singing of hymns that proclaimed Christ Lord of all, receiving and ministering spiritual gifts from the ascended Lord instead of entertainment and drunkenness that characterized many Roman banquets. Christ-followers were those who were socially identified as participants at the Lord’s Supper (Streett, Subversive, 30). When the false teachers seek to pervert the meal, the Christfollowers must resist the temptation to join them.

Commentary Salutation (1:1–2) The author calls himself by two names: “Simeon Peter” and adds that he is “a servant and apostle” of Messiah Jesus (v. 1a). This designation seeks to identify the writer as one of the original Twelve. The audience is addressed as “those who have received a faith as precious as ours” (v. 1b). Two plural pronouns (“those . . . us”) identify the author and audience as belonging to two separate groups—Gentiles and Jews. While they differ in ethnicity, they have something in common—“a faith.” The adjective “precious” from the compound Greek word īsostimōn means equal value, and describes their faith. The audience and the author have equal standing before God. Jewish Christ-followers have no advantage over their Gentile counterparts. Both have equal status in God’s kingdom. Gentile believers acquired faith “through the righteousness of our God and Savior Jesus Christ,” a phrase that arguably refers to God’s righteousness or faithfulness to his covenant promises, which he ultimately kept through Christ’s death and resurrection, and is expressed in the gospel (Rom 1:16–17). This “faith” is received as a divine gift that flows from God and his Messiah. A new social identity among Jewish and Gentile Christ-followers is based on the equality of faith. In his greeting, Simeon prays for his readers to receive an “abundance” of “grace and peace” by knowing “God and Jesus . . . our Lord” (v. 2). Pagans throughout the Empire looked to Jupiter and their Lord Caesar to provide them with charis (benefits, grace) and protection (pax Romana, peace). Benefaction was a cornerstone of the Roman economy. It started with Caesar and trickled down through an elaborate patronage network to the masses. In order to survive people aligned themselves with a patron who helped meet their needs in exchange for honor and loyalty. Simeon wants his recipients, who know the Creator God and Jesus, to look to them for divine benefaction. Gentile Christ-followers have turned away from allegiance to Caesar and the Roman gods and have entered into a covenant relationship with Christ as Lord. This distinguishes them from Gentile unbelievers. Their social identity is wrapped up in knowing and serving the covenant God of Israel.

Exhortation to Make Sure of One’s Calling and Election (1:3–11) The author now elaborates on God’s grace. His “divine power” provides believers with “everything needed for life and godliness” (v. 3a). These resources are ready, available, and inexhaustible.

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The means of receiving them come through “knowledge of him,” which is essentially the same way believers received “grace and peace” in the previous verse. The supplier is the same one “who called us by his own glory and goodness” (v. 3b), that is, the power of Christ’s Spirit beckons hearers of the gospel to turn from former allegiances to God (Rom 2:4). Christ-followers also receive assurances (“precious and great promises”) that they (1) “may escape . . . the corruption that is in the world because of lust” (v. 4a), and (2) obtain a “divine nature” (v. 4b). The latter likely means believers are transformed into children of God through the indwelling Spirit of Christ, which gives them a new social identity. Believers, like ex-convicts, were once held captive by the moral corruption of the world, but have been delivered by the wonder-working power of Christ and transferred into God’s kingdom. Along with this new social status comes responsibility. They must be diligent “to support” (epi chorégein) or add to their initial faith (v. 5a). In the first century a bare-bones traveling theater troupe often sought out local patrons to provide supplemental funds that they might add a chorus or choreographer, to make the production more lavish. Peter calls for a robust Christianity. To the foundation of faith, they should add goodness, knowledge, self-control, endurance, godliness, mutual affection, and love (vv. 5b–7). These qualities protect the Christian from becoming “ineffective and unfruitful” (v. 8). Christ-followers must avoid giving only lip service to Christ. Church members who lack these attributes are “short-sighted” and even “blind” to the truth of the gospel and have lost consciousness of their baptism, when “past sins” were washed away (v. 9). Therefore, Peter exhorts his readers to authenticate their “call and election” (v. 10a). When the fruit of the Spirit accompanies faith (pistis), believers will not “stumble” or fall away from their commitment to Christ (v. 10b); hence, God will grant them “entry into the eternal kingdom” (v. 11). From the above description, we discover that genuine Christ-followers—Jews and Gentiles— obtain a new social identity by hearing the gospel, pledging loyalty to Christ through baptism, receiving the Spirit, escaping the corruption of worldly lusts, aligning themselves with other believers, and growing in Christ-like character. These believers have assurance of salvation and cling to the promises of Christ.

Purpose of the Letter (1:12–21) This section opens with an explanation for writing the letter. Peter says that while he is still alive he wants “to remind them of these things,” that is, the things he has addressed in vv. 1–11. It is essential they retain these truths long after his death, which he believes will come shortly. The letter will serve as a permanent record that they can turn to again and again (vv. 12–15). The basis of his gospel message is twofold. First, what the apostles saw (vv. 16–18). The gospel he preaches is not based on “cleverly devised myths” but on apostolic testimony of Christ’s “power and coming” (v. 16). The apostles were eyewitnesses to the Transfiguration of Jesus and heard God’s voice: “This is my Son, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased” (vv. 17–18). Second, the gospel is based on what the prophets said (vv. 19–21). Their pronouncements of a coming messiah have now been “confirmed” (v. 19a). The Gentile readers are the recipients of these prophecies. Continuity exists between the promises and their fulfillment. The light of these

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prophecies of old will guide God’s people during dark days, presumably in times of persecution, “until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts” (v. 19b). At the parousia God’s people will no longer need these lights because Jesus will illuminate his kingdom (Rev 21:23; 22:5). Peter reminds his readers that the prophetic messages were not the product of human invention or imagination, but of divine origin (vv. 20–21). Gentile Christ-followers have been brought into the community of faith as equal partners with their Jewish brethren. Salvation history is unfolding before their eyes and they are part of it. They can have an assurance that they are following the correct path because the gospel is based on the twofold witness of the apostles and prophets.

Warning against False Teachers (2:1–22) (2:1–3) After attesting to the validity of the gospel based on authentic apostolic and prophetic accounts, the author now issues a warning. In Israel’s past false (pseudo) prophets “also arose” who claimed to have a word from God, but actually spoke their own thoughts and not God’s. As a result, many of the Jewish forefathers were deceived. Peter’s Gentile readers also should beware of contemporary “false teachers” who will stealthily infiltrate their local churches, introduce “destructive” ideas, and “deny the Master who bought them.” These emissaries, who at one time pledged allegiance to Christ through baptism, have now deemed the gospel and the parousia to be myths. Their short-lived commitment will precipitate their sudden doom. Their influence on the congregations will have negative consequences. Like pied pipers, they will attract followers who emulate “their licentious ways.” Their divergent teachings will lead to deviant behavior, and in turn, will cause current church members to malign and blaspheme “the way of truth” (i.e., the gospel). Peter is concerned that his auditors engage in proper ethical conduct that counteracts the lifestyle of the false teachers. Boundary lines must be drawn and maintained. Believers must remain within the perimeters. Otherwise, they will shed their collective “in Christ” identity and return to pre-Christ behavioral patterns. Despite their dissent, the false teachers continue to assemble with God’s people. Verse 3 explains their motive—greed. They “will exploit” God’s people by using “deceptive” methods and feigned words to accomplish covetous goals. To this end they will make merchandise of the church of God. The false teachers will face “condemnation” (v. 3b), which presently hangs over them like a sword of Damocles ready to fall at any moment. (2: 4–10a) Future judgment has historical precedence. Peter gives three examples from Israel’s past. First, “God did not spare the angels” but banished them to “hell” (Gk, Tartarus) and bound them in “chains of darkness” to await a final “judgment” (v. 4, see Matt 25:41). The reference to an angelic judgment can also be found in Genesis 6 and 1 Enoch and refers to angels who left their “first estate.” Second, God judged the antediluvian world. Rather than follow the creator God and respond positively to Noah’s call of repentance, the “ungodly” masses rebelled against Yahweh (v. 5). Only faithful Noah and his family were spared judgment.

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Third, God doomed and leveled the “cities of Sodom and Gomorrah to ashes” as an example of judgment to come on future generations that turn from God (v. 6). Conversely, Yahweh rescued Lot, a righteous man who lived in the midst of “licentiousness” and lawlessness (vv. 7–8). This is the author’s second reference to licentiousness. In the first case he applied it to the infiltrators (v. 2), who encouraged sexual promiscuity among God’s people. As in the past so also in the future—God will deliver the godly and punish “those who indulge their flesh in depraved lust, and who despise (kuriotos) authority” (vv. 9–10a). This gets to the core of the false teachers’ beliefs. They scorn authority in words, deeds, and lifestyle (see parallel in Jude 8). Verse 10a serves as a transition into the next paragraph. In the remainder of the chapter the author speaks of the false teachers in the present tense. Some have already invaded the Christ community and have caused chaos. (2:10b–16) Peter characterizes the teachers as “bold and willful” (10b). Their brazenness and persistence impels them to two actions. First, they “slander the glorious ones” (v. 10c), that is, accusations leveled against heavenly beings or earthly church authorities. Even mighty angels do not bring such charges against powers (v. 11; see Jude 8–9). The false teachers give credence to the proverb, “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.” But they are not only arrogant, they are ignorant. They have more in common with “irrational animals” than heaven’s angels, and live by “instinct” rather than reason or faith (v. 12a, c). Like wild beasts, they will be “caught” and “destroyed,” a metaphorical reference to the divine judgment they will face because of their deviant behavior (v. 13a). Second, the false teachers pursue selfish and fleshly pleasures (vv. 13b–16). They satisfy their hedonistic desires during the daylight hours through reveling, that is, drunkenness (v. 13b). While most men work, these carousers give full attention to riotous living, possibly going from house to house drinking and eating at other people’s expense. Ancients deemed such irregular conduct as emblematic of debauchery (Juvenal, Sat., 1.103). During the evening hours, the pseudo-teachers continue their intemperance and decadence at the community meal, which Jude graphically calls an agapé feast (Jude 12), more precisely a meal characterized by charity toward the needy and service to all. These inebriated interlopers, however, “are blots and blemishes” on the gathering (v. 13c). In Jude 12, “blots” refer to moral stains and “blemishes” to moral defects (Green, 278–79). According to Jewish tradition, blemishes rendered an animal unfit for sacrifice (Lev 1:13) and a man unfit for priestly service (Lev 21:21). Likewise, those immoral louts were a hindrance to the church’s holiness and thus made the church unfit as a sacrifice to God (Bauckham, 265–66). At the end of the letter, Peter will exhort the community “to strive to be found by him at peace, without spot or blemish” (2 Pet 3.14). With these words, he sets the stage for the church’s social identity. Debauched teachers are “blots” and “blemishes,” not apt words to describe authentic Christ-followers, and are antithetical to Christ’s character “as a lamb without spot or blemish” (Davids, The Letters, 239). The next phrase “eyes full of adultery, insatiable for sin” (v. 14a) connotes their mealtime behavior. They use the meal as an opportunity to search out potential sexual partners. One commentator believes that Peter’s accusations against the opponents (vv. 13b–14) should not be taken at face value, but understood only as a literary device to shame them (Mbuvi, 8). In other words, the infiltrators are not actual adulterers. But in order to discredit the opponents, Peter uses name-calling to demean them as such. However, this explanation seems strained at best. 550

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First-century meals were reclining affairs where bodies touched each other and participants drank heavily. The suggestive position and close proximity of male and female bodies might lead to sexual liaisons. In his famous poem Amores, Ovid describes a male diner’s attempt to seduce a married woman reclining next to her husband (Am. 1.4.1–70). While assignations occurred occasionally at pagan banquets, they were discouraged. An inscription on a dining room wall of a house was unearthed in Pompeii that reads, “Keep your lascivious looks and bedroom eyes away from another man’s wife. Maintain a semblance of decency on your face” (Shelton, 319). That such a warning would need to be posted in a dining room speaks volumes about the potential for sexual encounters at mealtime. Peter issues a similar warning to his audience to be on guard for false teachers who bring their pagan proclivities to the Lord’s Table. Peter next identifies the means of seduction and their intended victims: “They entice unsteady souls” (v. 14b), that is, lure or set a trap for female communicants whose faith is shaky. The false teachers target those not established in the faith. When it comes to covetousness and satisfying their own fleshly desires, they are quite proficient and “trained in greed” (v. 14c). As a result they are “accursed children” (v. 14d; see Matt 25:31). In analyzing their behavior, Peter notes they have departed the “straight” way and have followed a different path, choosing to follow the way of “Balaam, son of Bosor” who reaped benefits for “doing wrong” (v. 15). The prophet Balaam—for financial gain—showed the Moabites how to turn Israel away from Yahweh. The strategy succeeded, and God’s people offered food sacrificed to idols and committed sexual immorality (Num 22–25:1–9; Jude 11; Rev 2:14). Through the mouth of a “speechless donkey” God rebuked Balaam (v. 16). And a so-called teacher of God who encourages Christ-followers to engage in sexual immorality and seeks to lead them astray is a false prophet like Balaam. (2:17–22) Peter uses two metaphors to characterize the false teachers. They are “waterless springs [wells]” and “mists [clouds] driven by the wind” (v. 17a). The one promises to quench parched lips and the other to refresh parched land, but they fail to deliver. For their deception they await judgment, which is described as “the deepest darkness” (v. 17b). This is the tenth time Peter mentions judgment (vv. 1, 3, 4–8, 9, 12, 13, 14, 17). The reason for the judgment is twofold: (1) they make grandiose promises that have no substance (“bombastic nonsense”) and (2) they encourage people to join them in their immorality (“with licentious desires of the flesh they entice people”). Their targeted victims are those “who have just escaped” bad associations (v. 18), which means they seek to draw unstable souls back into a life of debauchery. Ironically the teachers—enslaved by their vices—promise church members “freedom” (v. 19a), which begs the question, “Freedom from what?” This might refer to freedom from bodily constraints. Hellenists in the region were apt to hold to a body/soul dualism, which allowed for them to pursue bodily pleasures from which Christ-followers were forbidden. The author responds with an axiom: “People are slaves to whatever masters them” (v. 19b). They can be slaves to sin or the savior. Having been set free from “defilements of the world” by the gospel and then returning to their old lifestyle renders the false teachers worse off than before (v. 20). Better had they never confessed Christ (v. 21). Their actions prove the veracity of the proverb: “The dog turns back to its own vomit” and “The sow is washed only to wallow in the mud” (v. 22). Like these unclean animals (possibly representative of unbelieving Gentiles), the false teachers act according to their 551

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own corrupt nature (Matt 7:6). Not truly converted into children of God, they remain as they were before their baptism. Peter warns church members not to be caught off guard when the traveling teachers arrive on the scene. To be forewarned is to be forearmed.

Living in Light of the Parousia (3:1–13) (3:1–7) The author repeats his reason for writing. This “second letter” is a reminder to embrace the traditions of the prophets of old and the apostles of Jesus Christ and not the perversions of the false teachers. That the church needs such a strong warning shows that its members might tend toward forgetfulness or complacency. This second or third generation of Christ-followers must look to the past to prepare for the future (vv. 1–2). They are heirs of Israel’s scriptures. As salvation history moves forward, they are the latest recipients of God’s revelation and thus in continuity with God’s people in the former times. Both prophets and apostles spoke of judgment to come and foretold how those who live only to satisfy “their own lusts” would make light of the parousia and claim that nothing has changed since the creation of the world (vv. 3–4). The teachers “deliberately ignore” or conveniently forget that God (1) by his word created the heavens and earth; (2) judged the world through a flood; hence things have not remained the same since creation; (3) has earmarked for judgment the “present heavens and earth” and the ungodly for destruction (vv. 5–6); (4) has preserved creation, but only “until” judgment falls on the ungodly (v. 7). Therefore, the rebel leaders’ narrative is erroneous. “Judgment and destruction” are on the way. (3:8–10) While it might seem like things never change, readers must consider how God counts time: “With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day” (v. 8). To humans, Christ died 2,000 years ago. To God it was like the day before yesterday! Judgment is not running late, but God is patiently giving people more time to repent and thus avoid judgment (v. 9). Divine delay is an act of grace. When judgment arrives, identified as the “Day of the Lord,” it will come suddenly “like a thief ” who breaks into a house at night and catches its occupants off guard. It will be cosmic in scope, involving both celestial and terrestrial judgment. The “heavens” will explode with a bang and their “elements (sun, moon, planets) will be dissolved with fire” (v. 10a). The earth will likewise be judged as hearts are disclosed (v. 10b). Since the writer uses apocalyptic language to depict the final adjudication, the reader must be wary of a literal interpretation. The symbolic designations simply convey that the eternal God will judge the ungodly and vindicate the righteous. (3:11–13) Next, Peter asks a rhetorical question: In light of the future judgment, how should church members conduct their lives while “waiting for and hastening the coming day of God”? (v. 12). The answer to the behavior portion of the question is addressed in the next section of his letter. But how can his readers speed up the Lord’s coming? They are not told. Does he want them to consider and discuss the ways among themselves? Or, is he thinking of Jesus’s words, which link preaching the gospel of the kingdom with the eschaton (Matt 24:3, 14)? Peter then encourages his audience, based on divine promises, to wait for “new heavens and a new earth” where “righteousness” will dwell (v. 13). 552

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Conclusion and Doxology (3:14–18) This paragraph contains the letter’s final two exhortations and closes with a doxology. First, Peter urges Christ-followers to make a concerted effort to live “at peace” with each other and be patient as they wait for deliverance to arrive. In doing so, they will “be found . . . without spot or blemish” (vv. 14–15a), unlike the false teachers. This admonition mirrors the Apostle Paul’s wise counsel found throughout his letters (vv. 15b–16a), although many find his advice difficult to accept, especially the “ignorant and unstable” who “twist” his teachings the same as they do the Hebrew Scriptures. By rejecting the testimony of both the ancient prophets and the apostles, these deniers will be destroyed at the last assize (v. 16b). Second, now that his audience has been “forewarned” they must be careful not to be “carried away with the error of lawlessness” or waiver in their commitment to Christ. Rather, they must “grow in the grace and knowledge” of Jesus, identified as Lord [ruler], Savior [deliverer], and Christ [anointed one]. Maintaining the status quo must give way to maturity. This is the antidote for falling away from the faith and becoming shipwrecked (vv. 17–18a). The letter closes with a doxology to Jesus: “To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen” (v. 18b). The same glory that Jesus ascribes to God in the Lord’s Prayer, Peter now assigns to Jesus.

Summary In his warnings to the Gentile churches of northern Asia Minor, the author has required his readers to come to grips with the question “Who am I?” This question gets to the heart of social identity and what it means to be Christ-followers. For those “in Christ,” the categories of gender, ethnicity and status no longer define their identity. Their new identity is now connected to the biblical narrative and their relationship to each other within the family of God. Hence, Miller views 2 Peter as an “instrument of ‘socialization’ into a particular vision of collective identity” (Miller, 148, fn 5). Identity markers in the community of Christ include baptism as a pledge of loyalty to Christ and his church, egalitarian eating together in honor of Jesus as Lord, charity toward all, embracing Christian values that lead to acceptable ingroup behavior, and rejecting Roman imperial values that lead to unacceptable ethical behavior. By definition, social identity must be maintained, lest one falls outside the boundary lines and becomes an apostate.

References Bauckham, Richard J. Jude, 2 Peter. Word Biblical Commentary 50. Waco: Word, 1983. Carson, D. A., and Douglas J. Moo. An Introduction to the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2009. Carter, Warren, and Amy-Jill Levine. The New Testament: Methods and Meanings. Nashville: Abingdon, 2013.

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Davids, Peter H. The Letters of 2 Peter and Jude. Pillar New Testament Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006. Green, Gene L. Jude and 2 Peter. Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2008. Mbuvi, Andrew M. Jude and 2 Peter. New Covenant Commentary Series. Eugene: Cascade, 2015. Miller, James C. “The Sociological Category of ‘Collective Identity’ and its Implications for Understanding Second Peter.” Pages 147–77 in Reading Second Peter with New Eyes: Methodological Reassessments of the Letter of Second Peter. Edited by Robert L. Webb and Duane F. Watson. London: T&T Clark, 2010. Neyrey, Jerome H. 2 Peter, Jude. AB 37C. New York: Doubleday, 1993. Reicke, Bo. The Epistles of James, Peter, and Jude. AB 37. New York: Doubleday, 1964. Shelton, Jo-Ann. As the Romans Did: A Sourcebook in Roman Societal History. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988. Streett, R. Alan. Subversive Meals: An Analysis of the Lord’s Supper under Roman Domination during the First Century. Eugene: Pickwick, 2013. Tucker, J. Brian, and Coleman A. Baker. “Introduction.” Pages 1–9 in T & T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London: Bloomsbury, 2014.

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Chapter  24

1 John Rikard Roitto

Introduction Composition History Traditionally, both the Johannine letters and the Gospel of John have been attributed to the Apostle John, and the texts do share a common Johannine theological language. However, since the Gospel shows signs of a long history of development, since none of the Johannine writings (Revelation of John not included) gives away the name of the author, and since the linguistic style of 1 John is less clear than that of John, all we can know is that the different Johannine texts were composed in and for the Johannine community (e.g., Painter, 58–72). In 1 John, the nameless author is simply “we” (1:1–5) or “I” (e.g., 2:1, 7–8, 12–14). A number of scholars have suggested that tensions in 1 John are the effect of redactions (e.g., Bultmann; von Wahlde), but most commentaries treat 1 John as a unified composition. I will assume that tensions between, for example, confession of sins (1:8–10) and sinlessness (3:6–10) are probably intentional rather than the effect of careless editing (see section “Commentary”), whether redacted in stages or not.

Audience Similarities in language and theology between the Gospel of John and the three Johannine letters allow us to conclude that they were all written in broadly the same theological and linguistic culture, which we may call Johannine Christianity. From 2 and 3 John we learn that the Johannine community is a network of local congregations, not just one congregation. Within this network there were fractions and competition for authority (2 John 7–11; 3 John 9–10, see the commentary on 2 and 3 John). No formal leadership structure is discernable in the texts (2:27; cf. Tellbe, 183–207), and I will assume that no one had the formal mandate to solve the conflicts between opposing fractions. From 1 John we learn about a schism in a recent past where “antichrists” who deny “that Jesus is the Christ” have left the community; “they went out from us” (2:18–23). This schism was perhaps, but not necessarily, the culmination of the conflicts glimpsed in 2 and 3 John. First John also gives the impression that the community has had visits from heterodox teachers (“false prophets”) who deny that

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“Jesus Christ has come in the flesh” (4:1–5). Apparently, these teachers are successful: “The world listens to them” (4:5). First John is thus written to an open-ended network of congregations fraught with internal tensions, and the anonymous author represents one party in this conflict (cf. the discussion about network theory in the “Social Identity Approach” section of the commentary to 2 John). It is therefore somewhat misleading to call the Johannine branch of Christianity a “sect,” if we by that term mean a community with strict borders, isolationist tendencies, and uniform beliefs. In spite of the dualistic rhetoric of 1 John, the community seems to have been an open-ended cult in tension with related forms of Christ-devotion, but not strictly separated from them (Hakola 2015). The nature of the teaching of the heterodox group eludes us, and scholarship has suggested many different ways to mirror-read the convictions of those who “went out from us” (2:19; Streett). We should probably be wary of assuming that every negative behavior and attitude mentioned in the antithetical rhetoric of 1 John reflects the opponents, since such contrast might just be a hypothetical contrast to the ideal that 1 John promotes and not necessarily an allusion to actual behavior of the schismatics. The two “they” passages, 2:18–23 and 4:1–5, seem to allude to an actual group of heterodox teachers and might give us hints about who they are. The most specific allegations are that they deny that Jesus is the Messiah (2:22) and that Jesus “came in the flesh” (4:2). We must remember, though, that the portrait in 1 John is far from fair and neutral. This information has been interpreted in broadly three ways (Streett): One type of interpretation is that the schismatics are proto-Gnostic, hyper-Johannine, or docetic believers who somehow deny the humanity of Christ. A second possibility is that they are Jews who deny that Jesus is the real Messiah. Finally, a third option is to deny the possibility of mirror-reading altogether, since the information in 1 John is simply unreliable. In my opinion, all three readings are possible. The addressees have no names and no geographical information is given, but later tradition associates Johannine Christianity with Ephesus in Asia Minor, a large cosmopolitan city in which several branches of Christianity were present (Tellbe). Large temples devoted to Greek and Roman gods dominated the public areas of Ephesus. There was also a substantial population of Jews in Ephesus, but no synagogue has been identified so far in archaeological excavations although one is mentioned in Acts 19:1. Since most religious communities, including early Christian communities, were organized as voluntary associations (Latin collegium; Harland), we should assume that the Johannine congregations convened in a manner typical of associations. That is, they most probably met in someone’s home and celebrated Christ in a banquet. Third John 9–10, using epidechomai, “receive as guest,” twice implies a household setting. The gatherings in an association were supposed to be characterized by community (Greek koinonia, for example, 1 John 1:3–7, cf. Taussig, 49–52). Expectations of loyalty and mutual aid varied from association to association, but rules about good conduct, avoiding conflict and aiding those in need, are frequently found in inscriptions and papyri from voluntary association of the Roman era (Monson; Weinfeld). In the Johannine letters, we see exhortations to love community members (e.g., 1 John 3:11–14; 4:20–21), abide by the norms of the community (e.g., 2:3–11), help poor members financially if you have what you need (1 John 3:16–18), pray for transgressors (1 John 5:16), avoid worshipping other gods (1 John 5:21), and be hospitable to visitors from other Johannine communities (3 John 5–7, 10),

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but reject false visiting teachers (2 John 10). These appeals fit well into the possible spectrum of obligations of a voluntary association.

Literary Structure Although 1 John is commonly called an “epistle” it is not a letter, since it has no prescript or postscript (as opposed to 2 and 3 John, which are proper letters). There is no scholarly consensus about the genre and structure of the text (Jensen). Although 1 John cannot be said to fit a particular genre, I suggest that we—for heuristic reasons—can consider the text to be a written sermon or an epideictic tractate, since the letter wants to persuade its listeners to hold on to their Christian identity and way of life. (In Aristotle’s division of rhetoric genres, epideictic speeches aim to praise virtue and excellence and blame the opposite.) If 1 John was read aloud in the symposium portion of a banquet, it would have been perceived as an epideictic speech, since that was the typical genre of speeches in that setting. A stream of related themes flows throughout 1 John without clear structural markers (Jensen). Themes are repeated and combined in different constellations, but the progression is not that of an argument but rather a string of associations between central ideas. Although 1 John defies all attempts at finding a neat structure, I provide a division of the letter that helps us see its different identity-forming themes in the following headings.

Date Scholars do not agree on whether 1 John was written before, during, or after the composition of the Gospel of John. I will assume that 1 John was probably written before the final version of the Gospel of John but later than the earliest strata of the Gospel (Culpepper). If this is the case, the text was probably composed late first century, but dating is difficult since the text does not contain solid historical references. There is no way to know if 1 John was written before or after the other Johannine letters, but it is possible that the tensions portrayed in 2 and 3 John are the background to 1 John.

Major Cruxes and Theological Themes Major interpretive cruxes in 1 John include the following: (1) The identity of the opponents has stirred much debate. Why are the opponents accused of denying that “Jesus is the Christ” and “has come in the flesh” (2:18–28; 4:1–6)? (2) The tension between confession of sins and the claim that those who are born of God cannot sin, as well as the meaning of “mortal sin/sin unto death” that the community need not pray for (1:8–2:2; 3:6–10; 5:16–18). (3) The meaning of the statement that Jesus “came . . . not with the water only but with the water and the blood” (5:6).

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Important themes in 1 John include (1) belief in Christ and confession of a correct Christology; (2) distance from the schismatics and victory over the world; (3) how those born of God have received the Spirit, which leads to knowledge and morality; and (4) morality as obedience to God’s command, which is to practice love.

Significance Theology. Together with the Gospel of John, 1 John has impacted Christian Pneumatology. In 1 John, the Spirit is present in all believers and inspires love (3:6–10) and spiritual insight (4:1–3, 13, 5:6). The so-called Comma Johanneum, “for there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one” (5:7, KJV), was not originally part of the text of 1 John, but was included in the Latin translation, Vulgate, in the fourth century. It was since quoted in support of the doctrine of Trinity. The condemnation of those who do not confess that Jesus is the Christ (2:23) who has come “in the flesh” (4:2) played a role in the church’s decision that docetism (the teaching that Jesus was only seemingly human) is a heresy and that Jesus should be considered both fully divine and fully human. Ritual Practice. Together with James (5:16) and Matthew (18:15–20), 1 John (1:8–10; 5:14– 20) has been an important inspiration for different practices of penance, confession of sins, and intercession for sinners in the early church (Roitto, “Rituals”). The term “mortal sin/sin unto death” (1 John 5:16) was frequently quoted in discussions in the early church about whether grave sins such as apostasy, idolatry, murder, and adultery are unforgivable or should be atoned for by penance (Motry; Favazza). Ethics. The claim that the believer is characterized by love to the extent that she does not sin (3:6–10) is important to the Christian virtue ethics of doing good out of love (3:16–28) and seeking to become sanctified. These perfectionist ideals of sinlessness have also been a point of contention between theological traditions that claim entire sanctification to be possible (e.g., Wesleyan Methodism), and Lutherans who declare as doctrine that sinlessness is impossible (Painter, 107–8).

Social Identity Approach First John promotes a powerful identity narrative about how the recipients, as “born of God,” can be confident before God, since they have received the Spirit, knowledge, and love, as opposed to “them,” who deceive and hate. The identity-forming rhetoric in 1 John promotes an identity prototype by means of dualistic contrast (the meta-contrast principle) that reinforces the experience of being unique. Yet the loving character of the community oscillates between fact and commandment. Those who are born of God do not and cannot sin, but still they must confess their sins. Studies in social cognition have frequently noted that attributions of motifs and character traits behind actions have moral dimensions and are as prescriptive as they are descriptive (Williams; Cushman, Knobe, and Armstrong). For instance, the statement that “the love of God is this, that we obey his commandments” (5:3) is formulated as a fact, but is

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implicitly also a moral exhortation. The narrative of causal relations in 1 John is that obedience to the commands of God is caused by the virtue of love, which in turn is caused by having the Spirit, which ultimately is the effect of being born of God. That is, the prototypical group member is born of God, has the Spirit, loves, and therefore does good. This ingroup prototype is perceived as a fact in relation to other groups (this is who we are as opposed to them) and as an obligation for each member (this is how you should behave to be a good group member).

Commentary Introduction: Our Shared Community (1:1–4) The sermon in 1 John begins by recapitulating the shared identity narrative of the Johannine Community in typical ingroup language: we share “fellowship/community” (koinonia) with each other, the Father and the Son. Key theological terms such as “word of life” remind strongly of the prologue in the Gospel of John (1:1–18), so we can assume that the Johannine recipients were familiar with the language and thus immediately recognized the familiar theological narrative of the community. The senders are “we” who have “seen” and “touched” the Son and wish to “testify” that experience with “you,” the recipients. The senders thus establish an ethos as trustworthy narrators of the nature of their shared identity.

Contrasting Ways of Life 1: Walking in the Light versus Walking in the Dark (1:5—2:17) (1:5—2:2) Confession Sins versus Denying Sin With this passage, the author begins his contrasting rhetoric between opposing ways of “walking,” that is, living. One can walk either in light and truth or in darkness and lies. This theological contrast is then immediately translated into ritual practice: confession of sins. Confession allows continued community and continuous cleansing from sins through Jesus, who is “our advocate” and “a sacrifice,” that is, the mediator between God and humanity. The term “confess” (homologeō) is typically used for confessions before others. Individuals in the local Johannine communities confess their sins to each other. This ritual practice presumes a tightly knit community where the members could trust each other not to abuse each other’s confessions. In a best case scenario, this ritual practice might have generated honesty and empathy, but in a worst case scenario, abuse of trust and excessive social control (Roitto, “Practices”). (We know from other periods in the history of the Christian church how oppressive such practices can be.) Whether the Johannine practice was benevolent or malevolent, whenever someone confessed their sins, the confession probably had several group dynamic effects: it signaled the confessor’s commitment to the ideals of the community; it reinforced the identity narrative of the community as a community of those who are cleansed from sin through Christ; finally, it reminded the whole

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community of the shared norms of the group and thus strengthened their identity. (See also the discussion about intercession for sinners in 5:16 below.) (2:3–11) Obeying God’s Commandment (Love) versus not Obeying The identity-forming contrasts between opposing ways of life continue, and the theme of doing God’s command is introduced. God’s command is to love—not hate—one’s “brother or sister.” “Brother” (adelphos), which NRSV rightly translates inclusively as “brother or sister” (Trebilco, 16–67), is the Johannine standard designation for community members. Further ahead (3:11–18), John will press the point that love must manifest itself in practical acts of care, which explains why “love” is a “command” and not just an attitude. This virtue ethics of love is best understood in the practical context of a voluntary association, since many voluntary associations in the Roman era required their members to help each other in practical matters (see commentary on 3:11–18). (2:12–17) The Community Should not Love the World The sermon returns to the Johannine identity narrative and develops it further: they are not only those who are forgiven but also those who know God and have “conquered the evil one.” Because of this status, they must beware of loving the world, which is characterized by destructive desires and pride in wealth. That is, love should be restricted to the congregation and they should keep their distance from the world. This rhetoric can be interpreted as the theology of an isolationist sect with no contact with the rest of society, that is, a sect that maintains its identity by keeping its social borders as sharp as possible. However, if the Johannine community is situated in the cosmopolitan city Ephesus and its surroundings, it would be practically impossible to uphold strict distance to the rest of society. Rather, the sharp dichotomy between the community and the world should be seen as a hyperbolic way to push the point that they should be loyal to each other and not let loyalties with others mar their commitment. This interpretation also fits evidence from the rules of conduct for other voluntary associations in the Roman era. Several associations demanded that members should stick together against the surrounding society, for instance by solving disputes internally without involving civil courts, by supporting members who became involved in legal disputes, and by never slandering each other (Monson; Weinfeld).

You, Who Confess that Jesus is the Christ, versus Them, the Antichrists (2:18–28) The already established identity of having the Spirit and knowledge is used to draw a distinction between “we” and “they” who “went out from us.” They are “antichrists,” meaning that they “deny that Jesus is the Messiah/Christ.” They do this because they lack the Spirit-endowed knowledge that characterizes those who truly “belong to us.” We thus get a glimpse of what seems to be a recent trauma for the group. Some group members have decided to leave the congregation and perhaps start a new association, which must have been a tough blow to the self-esteem of the group. To “deny that Jesus is the Christ/Messiah” can be understood as denying that the earthly Jesus is identical to the heavenly Christ. If so, we could here have an early proto-Gnostic,

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hyper-Johannine, or docetic splinter-group. However, we must remember that we have no clear evidence of well-developed Gnostic theologies toward the end of the first century. The phrase can also be interpreted as indicating that the schismatics simply deny that Jesus is the promised Messiah, which would make them a group of Jewish Christians that did not share the Johannine group’s high Christology. No matter what interpretation is correct, 1 John goes out of its way to distance the recipients from those who left. We can only speculate about why 1 John hammers the distinction between “us” and “them” so eagerly, but one possibility is that there are still ongoing social contacts between members of the Johannine group and the schismatics, which 1 John wants to put an end to. If so, he wants to protect the group’s identity narrative from influence from the schismatics in order to preserve the group’s identity. Possibly, he is also worried that more members might join the schismatics. (See also the commentary on 4:1–6 and the section “Audience” in the commentary on 2 John.)

Contrasting Ways of Life 2: Children of God versus Children of the Devil (2:29–3:24) (2:29–3:10) Those Born of God are Righteous and Cannot Sin For the first time in the sermon, the important Johannine idea of being “born of God” is mentioned (cf. John 3:3–8). Being born of God is the root cause of a chain of transformation that leads to doing good: born of God → receiving the Spirit and abiding in Christ → knowledge and love → obedience to God’s command to do good and not sin. That is, being born of God is the foundational condition for becoming a prototypical group member of the Johannine community. Therefore, logically, whoever is born of God “cannot sin” and whoever sins is “of the Devil.” The passage is shocking to most readers, since not even the most pretentious person imagines himself or herself to be free from sin. It is also highly puzzling, since everyone is urged to confess their sins in the beginning of the sermon (1:8–2:2), and toward the end the recipients are instructed to pray for sinning community members (5:14–18). Since we cannot assume that the author contradicts himself on purpose or even by mistake, we need to seek other solutions. I suggest that the sinless group member is an ideal construct, an identity prototype. An identity prototype functions at several levels at the same time. At the group level, it is indeed the group’s self-perception in relation to other groups. Johannine Christianity imagined itself to be the opposite of a sinful world. On the individual level, the very same claim of sinlessness functions as an exhortation. All group members should strive to become like the prototypical ideal, and those who fail can be criticized. With this interpretation the practices of confession of sins and intercession for sinners (see commentary on 1:5–2:2 and 5:14–21) become intelligible, even necessary, for the maintenance of the group’s self-perception. (3:11–18) Application: Love in Practical Action Having made the general statement that believers cannot sin, the sermon moves on to its practical application: love must result in doing good. Cain, the son of the Evil One, serves as the antitype and Jesus, the Son of God who gives his life, serves as the prototype of ideal Johannine behavior. This is followed by the most concrete practical exhortation in the whole sermon: “How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the

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world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” The harsh logic of the preceding verses continues: whoever fails to do good is not really in community with God. The implicit function of exhortation becomes more apparent here. The concrete application of love is specified as helping brothers and sisters in need. Earlier in the sermon, the sphere of love was circumscribed to the Johannine community, not the world (2:12–17). We can therefore assume that the command to help brothers and sisters in need is primarily aimed at other members of the Johannine community. This restriction also helps us see why this commandment was probably considered reasonable. When we compare this command to ordinances for other voluntary associations of the Roman era (Monson; Weinfeld), we see that many associations demanded that their members should help members in need. They should give money to members in urgent need, lend money to members, bail out members in custody, and support members in legal disputes. Many of these associations threatened members who failed to comply with fines or exclusion. In short, in a world without institutionalized social security, membership in an association was often supposed to function as a safety net. The command to help a brother or sister—that is, a member of the Johannine congregation—in need was therefore probably considered part of what you could be expected to do as a member of a voluntary association. (3:19–24) How to Know that You Are Children of Truth The sermon returns to a more principal theological discourse: whoever does God’s command and believes in the Son’s name knows that she or he “abides in God” and has the Spirit, and can have “boldness/confidence before God.” The passage summarizes the exhortation in ch. 3 and repeats the identity prototype that we discussed earlier (see commentary to 2:29–3:10): born of God → receiving the Spirit and abiding in Christ → knowledge and love → obedience to God’s command to good and not sin.

You, Who Confess that Jesus Has Come in the Flesh, versus the False Prophets (4:1–6) The warning against the antichrists is resumed and narrows down on the “false prophets” who are “from the world” and governed by “the spirit of the antichrist.” They are the antitype of the Johannine ideal to be “from God,” governed by the Spirit of God. These false prophets are probably leading preachers of the schismatics. They are recognizable by their denial that Jesus “has come in the flesh” and is “from God.” Whereas the difference between the community and the world is love and hate (see commentary to ch. 3), the difference between the community and the schismatics is true and false confession of who Jesus is. Again, the group’s identity is clarified in contrast to its opposite. The meaning of the phrase “has come in the flesh” has sometimes been interpreted as a statement against some form of docetic belief that Christ is not a human being with a body but only divine. We know from Ignatius of Antioch that some Christians held such beliefs in the beginning of the second century (Smyrn. 1–2, 7; Strecker, 69–76). Recently, some scholars have suggested an intra-Jewish interpretation of the phrase. “In the flesh” would then mean something like “for real” (e.g., Streett). That is, the sermon criticizes those who think that the Messiah has

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not really come yet and wishes the recipients to distance themselves from those groups. (See also the discussion in the commentary on 2:18–28.) Since the text gives so little and such unreliable information about the schismatics, I find both types of mirror-reading possible. We should note an especially skillful rhetorical move in this chapter, pointed out by Judith Lieu (“Us”): the recipients are first addressed as “you”—“you are from God.” Two sentences later, they are addressed as “we”—“we are from God.” That is, the recipients are rhetorically drawn into the social sphere of the senders and thereby away from the opponents. I suggested elsewhere (see commentary on 2:18–28) that 1 John criticizes the group that left the community so severely because there is still contact between members of the Johannine community and members of the community of the schismatics. Here the sermon especially targets the leading preachers of those communities, hoping to immunize the recipients from their influence. From a network perspective (see commentary on 2 John for further elaboration) leaders are particularly central nodes in social networks that can transmit lots of information across a network of social relations, so no wonder that the leaders of a competing group get criticized in a letter that aims to form the beliefs and the identity of the community.

This is Who We Are (4:7—5:12) (4:7–21) Born of God, We Love and Do Not Fear God’s Judgment The meandering style of the sermon becomes particularly apparent in this section, as the text returns to almost every theme from earlier portions of the text: those who are born of God abide in him, receive the Spirit, knowledge, and love; the origin of love is God, who is love, and lovingly sends his son as a sacrifice for our sins; believers confess Jesus to be the son of God. However, the emphasis of the whole section is the exhortation to love, which both begins and ends the section. The theme of “boldness/confidence” when God judges the world has been touched upon earlier in the sermon (2:28; 3:21), but comes more to the fore here. Those who love their brothers can have confidence on judgment day, and—implicitly—those who do not cannot. The repetition of earlier themes is best understood if we remember that the letter was probably meant to be read aloud. Repetition of key themes in new constellations makes them easier to remember. If the goal of the oral reading is to form the listeners’ identity, this seemingly superfluous section fulfills the important rhetorical function of repetition. (5:1–13) Born of God, We Believe, Love, and Conquer The exhortation to love continues with arguments similar to the preceding verses, but the emphasis shifts toward assurance of why it is possible to do what God commands: “His commandments are not burdensome, for whatever is born of God conquers the world.” That is, the letter assures that it is indeed possible to do good, since it is the nature of those who are born of God to overcome any obstacle that the world presents. Because of their identity, they are capable. The importance of believing in “the Son of God,” that “Jesus is Christ/The Messiah,” in order to be born of God and thus conquer the world, is repeated throughout the passage. In earlier passages, the recipients have been told that the test of a true believer is whether one “confesses” rather than “denies” that Jesus is the Messiah (2:22–23), but here they are urged to believe. That

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is, the confession is to be internalized into an attitude of belief. A prototypical group member should not only confess outwardly but also internalize the confession. The vague phrases “[Christ] is the one who came by water and blood . . . not with the water only, but with the water and the blood . . . there are three that testify: the Spirit and the water and the blood” (5:6–8) merits some attention. We simply do not know what this means, since the text is too open-ended, but the phrase “not with the water only” sounds like a polemic thrust. We know that water is the medium of baptism and that baptism is a birth in John 3:5. The water can therefore refer to Jesus birth, the baptism of Jesus, or the baptism of believers. Blood can be associated with Jesus’s embodiment, Jesus’s death, and the Eucharist. The interpretation that water and blood should refer to the sacraments is not very plausible, since that interpretation does not contribute to the errand of the sermon. If the blood refers to Jesus’s bodily form, then it might be a critical remark against people for whom the Christ is only seemingly human (cf. commentary on 4:1–6). If water and blood refer to Jesus’s baptism and death, this might be a criticism against people who think that Jesus’s sacrificial death was unimportant. Given the overall theology of the Gospel of John, where Jesus’s incarnation and death are both considered crucial aspects of God’s revelation through Christ, the two last-mentioned interpretations are fully possible. However, the number of conceivable interpretations is enormous, and I recommend book-length commentaries for a more complete discussion of possibilities (e.g., Painter, 300–11).

Reassuring Conclusion (5:14–21) In the preceding passages, the message so far has been that believers need not fear God’s judgment, since they are born of God and therefore capable of loving their brothers. That is, the text has portrayed the prototypical ingroup member, who acts fully according to the norms of the community. But what if one fails to love and sins? The listeners to the letter must have begun to wonder whether there is really no room for error. The reassuring answer in the final section of the letter is that there is a way forward if you sin. The passage begins with a general statement that whatever one prays for one will receive, as long as it is according to God’s will. These statements in isolation have been used to justify prosperity theologies and to blame those who do not receive what they pray for. However, the following verses specify what the author has in mind when he promises that prayer works: forgiveness of sins. If someone prays for a brother who sins, that prayer will “give him life,” that is, take away the sin that would otherwise lead to “death,” in the sense of losing community with God (cf. 3:14). The instruction to pray for sinning brothers goes hand in hand with the instruction about confession of sins in 1:8–10. Together, these two passages point toward a ritual practice of confession of sins and intercession for sinners in the Johannine community (Roitto, “Practices”; John 20:22–23; cf. James 5:15–20). Just like the practice to confess sins to other community members (see commentary to 1:5–2:2), the practice to pray for sinning community members probably had identity-fortifying effects. The ritual reintegrated deviant community members, since it made the forgiven status of the member a social fact in the community. At the same time, the ritual clarified the norms and the borders of the community, since the ritual confirmed that a norm had been broken (cf. Roitto, “Rituals”).

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Confession and intercession as the route to reintegration can be compared to other associations. The Qumran movement punished transgressors by barring them from the common meals for a certain period of time, but then welcomed them back to participate in the meals again (Weinfeld). Greco-Roman associations typically fined members for transgressions and only after paying the fine could members participate in the banquets (Monson; Weinfeld). First John prescribes neither time in isolation from the gatherings nor monetary fines, but instead demands confession. A common social function of all these systems, though, is to test the commitment of the transgressor. If the transgressor is motivated, she or he will endure the time, the fine, or the confession, but if not, leave (cf. Roitto, “Rituals”). The task to intercede seems to have been given to all community members, not only a few leaders, which probably reflects a fairly informal and egalitarian leadership structure (cf. the section “Audience”). If we allow ourselves to be optimistic in our historical imagination, we can imagine a scenario in which the intercession might have increased empathy between community members, since it must have been harder to stay hostile to a person for whom one had interceded. However, a more dysfunctional scenario is also imaginable. It might have been difficult to agree on who needed to be prayed for, since the community apparently had no formal hierarchical leadership structures. Perhaps such a conflict lies behind the insistence on the necessity to confess sins in 1:8–10. If we compare this informal structure with other associations, we see that Jewish synagogues, the Qumran movement, and Greco-Roman associations often had office holders with the authority to adjudicate in internal conflicts (Weinfeld). As intriguing as the informal nature of the Johannine leadership structure is to modern democratically minded readers, history shows us that those branches of early Christianity that decided to formalize their leadership structures were the ones who eventually set the agenda for the entire church, probably because this provided a more efficient organization. The recipients are instructed that they only need to pray for “what is not a mortal sin/sins not unto death” but not for “sin that is mortal/sins unto death.” Nothing in the passage helps us understand the distinction, but apparently some sins were regarded so grievous as to merit exclusion. I agree with David M. Scholer that our best guess is those sins which 1 John itself mentions as particularly incompatible with Johannine identity: false Christological confession (2:18–28; 4:1–6) and failure to help community members in need (3:11–18). Interestingly, after admitting the possibility to intercede for sinners, the sermon returns to the idea in 3:6–10 that those born of God do not sin and are in absolute opposition to the world and the evil one. The contradiction between a sinless ideal group member and a sinning real member becomes sharper than ever before in the letter. However, as discussed (see commentary on 2:29–3:10), the author probably lets the realistic and ideal self-perception stand side by side on purpose. In stark conflict with the world and the evil one, the community’s identity is that they are sinless. Within the community, however, the rule is that less than perfect community members can participate in this sinless community as long as they receive forgiveness. (On the social effects of this identity construct, see commentary on 2:29–3:10.) The letter ends abruptly with “Little children, keep yourselves from idols!” Idols have not even been mentioned before, but it is unlikely that the last sentence is meant to begin a new topic. The preceding verses have reminded the recipients of their identity in opposition to the world, so a reasonable interpretation is that idolatry describes the ways of the surrounding society, which would make the concluding exclamation an effective finale of the sermon’s efforts to distinguish the identity of the Johannine community from its relevant outgroups. 565

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References Bultmann, Rudolf. The Johannine Epistles: A Commentary on the Johannine Epistles. Hermeneia. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1973. Culpepper, R. Alan. “The Relation Between the Gospel of John and 1 John.” Pages 95–122 in Communities in Dispute: Current Scholarship on the Johannine Epistles. Edited by R. Alan Culpepper and Paul N. Anderson. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2014. Cushman, Fiery, Joshua Knobe, and Walter Sinnott-Armstrong. “Moral Appraisals Affect Doing/Allowing Judgments.” Cognition 108 (2008): 281–89. Favazza, Joseph A. The Order of Penitents: Historical Roots and Pastoral Future. Collegeville: Liturgical, 1988. Harland, Philip A. Dynamics of Identity in the World of the Early Christians: Associations, Judeans, and Cultural Minorities. New York: T&T Clark, 2009. Hakola, Raimo. Reconsidering Johannine Christianity: A Social Identity Approach. New York: Routledge, 2015. Jensen, Matthew D. “The Structure and Argument of 1 John: A Survey of Proposals.” Currents in Biblical Research 12 (2014): 194–215. Lieu, Judith. “Us or them? Persuasion and Identity in 1 John.” Journal of Biblical Literature 127 (2008): 805–19. Monson, Andrew. “The Ethics and Economics of Ptolemaic Religious Associations.” Ancient Society 36 (2006): 221–38. Motry, Hubert Louis. The Concept of Mortal Sin in Early Christianity. Washington DC: Catholic University of America, 1920. Painter, John. 1, 2, and 3 John. Sacra Pagina. Collegeville: Liturgical, 2002. Roitto, Rikard. “Practices of Confession, Intercession and Forgiveness in 1 John 1.9; 5.16.” New Testament Studies 58 (2012): 232–53. Roitto, Rikard. “Rituals of Reintegration: Penance, Confession, Intercession.” Pages 426–43 in The Oxford Handbook of Early Christian Ritual. Edited by Risto Uro, Richard DeMaris, Juliette Day, and Rikard Roitto. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019. Scholer, David M. “Sins Within and Sins Without: An Interpretation of 1 John 5.16–17.” Pages 230-246 in Current Issues in Biblical and Patristic Interpretation. Edited by G. F. Hawthorne. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975. Strecker, George. The Johannine Letters: A Commentary on 1, 2, and 3 John. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996. Streett, Daniel R. They Went Out From Us: The Identity of the Opponents In First John. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2011. Taussig, Hal. In the Beginning was the Meal: Social Experimentation and Early Christian Identity. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2009. Tellbe, Mikael. Christ-Believers in Ephesus: A Textual Analysis of Early Christian Identity Formation in a Local Perspective. WUNT. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009. Trebilco, Paul. Self-Designations and Group Identity in the New Testament. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Von Wahlde, U. C. The Gospel and Letters of John. 3 Vols. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010. Weinfeld, Moshe. The Organizational Pattern and the Penal Code of the Qumran Sect: A Comparison with Guilds and Religious Associations of the Hellenistic-Roman Period. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1986. Williams, Garrath. “Blame and Responsibility.” Ethical Theory and Moral Practice 6 (2003): 427–45.

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2 John Rikard Roitto

Introduction Composition History On the relation between the Gospel and Letters of John, see the commentary on 1 John. Second John is a very short and coherent letter, so there is little reason to think that it was not written by one author. The sender, who calls himself “the Elder,” has in later tradition been regarded as the Apostle John, but anyone known by the honorary title “the Elder” could be the author. Whoever this author is, the title indicates that he has some kind of leadership status in the Johannine community. Note, though, that “the Elder” seems to be a unique title to the sender since he does not specify which elder he is, so the title is probably not an institutionalized office. Whoever wrote 2 John uses typical Johannine language.

Audience On the general social situation and location of the Johannine community, see the corresponding section for 1 John, especially the discussion about the Johannine movement consisting of a network of local congregations. The letter is “from the Elder to the elect lady and her children” (v. 1). Since the letter is concluded with a greeting from “the children of your elect sister” (v. 13), the “elect lady” and “elect sister” are most probably metaphorical expressions for local congregations. The letter instructs the congregation not to accept visiting teachers who “do not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh” (vv. 7–10; cf. 1 John 2:18–28; 4:1–6). The letter is, thus, together with 3 John, a witness to a congregational network structure, in which the different congregations exchanged information through letters and visiting teachers. The existence of competing teachers with different teachings suggests a lack of supra-congregational leadership structures capable of controlling the information flow between congregations. (Cf. the discussion about the lack of institutionalized leadership in the Johannine community in the corresponding section for 1 John.)

T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament

Literary Structure Second John is a letter and is structured as a typical ancient letter.

Date Probably late first century, see corresponding section for 1 John.

Theological Themes and Significance Second and Third John are mentioned by Eusebius, Church History, as antilegomena, that is, texts that are not universally accepted by the church. They were eventually included in the canon, but are still rarely included in lectionaries, since the texts add nothing otherwise unknown about Johannine theology. Nevertheless, they are an invaluable window into the social life of the Johannine community.

Social Identity Approach Social identity theory suggests that groups aim to create cognitive constructs that maximize the difference between the ingroup and relevant outgroups (the meta-contrast principle) and maximizes the appreciation of the ingroup (self-esteem hypothesis). Groups and individuals also seek to keep their experience of the world coherent and avoid cognitive dissonance. This leads to confirmation bias and attempts to marginalize those who undermine our current cognition. Second John and Third John are snapshots from a social dynamic when neat social boundaries and social cognition are threatened by alternative teachings within the community. Simultaneously, there is probably also a power struggle going on between the leaders of the different local Johannine congregations. This situation can be fruitfully analyzed with network theory (Easley and Kleinberg). On a principal level, a network is a set of nodes connected by ties (also called edges or links). In a network of human relations, each individual is a node, and each relation is a tie, connecting the nodes. Connected nodes can exchange goods or information in either one or both directions. Some nodes have central positions in the network and others are less well connected. Groups of nodes that are well connected to each other with many ties and exchange lots of information are clusters of strong ties, while connections between the clusters that exchange less information are weak ties. Each Johannine congregation can be considered a cluster of nodes with strong ties, since these community members interact frequently and exchange lots of information. Contacts between the congregations can be considered weak ties, since the exchange of information between congregations is less frequent. Network theorists emphasize the importance of weak ties for dispersion of new information through a network (Easley and Kleinberg, 43–76). Within the cluster of strong ties (e.g., the 568

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congregation) all information is already shared, but through the weak ties (e.g., relations between different congregations) novel information can enter local clusters from other clusters. Sending a letter to another congregation (2 John) or an individual in a congregation (3 John) is a way to send information between clusters and reinforce the tie between congregations, which is of strategic importance to influence the convictions of neighboring congregations. The strategic importance of weak ties also describes the key role of the itinerant teachers in 2 and 3 John. They can disperse new teachings or reinforce established teachings across the congregations. As far as we can discern from the Johannine literature, there is no institutionalized inter-congregational leadership structure. The only way to influence other congregations is through friendly exchange of information. That, in turn, explains the strategic struggle over hospitality that we glimpse in 2 and 3 John. In 2 John 10–11, the congregation is urged not to welcome false teachers. In 3 John 9–10, the Elder complains that Diotrephes tries to seize power by not welcoming the Elder’s co-workers. Hospitability or lack thereof thus functions as a gatekeeping mechanism (BarzilaiNahon). By welcoming or not welcoming itinerant teachers, one either allows new information through weak ties or cuts off weak ties, and thus also information flow, into the congregation. To control the information flow is to control the influence over the group’s shared cognition, that is, their shared social identity and theological worldview.

Commentary Prescript and Proem (vv. 1–3) The letter begins like a typical ancient letter by mentioning sender and receiver. On the identity of the Elder and the elect lady, see the sections “Composition History” and “Audience.” The prescript uses typical Johannine vocabulary, such as “love,” “truth,” and “abide,” to express the affectionate bond between the Elder and the elect lady. The mention of key ingroup terms probably primed the recipients’ shared social identity and signaled the ethos of the sender. The emphasis on truth and love is not just empty phrases meant to bolster a sense of community, though, but also prepares for the errand to warn against welcoming false teachers, who are— according to the author—characterized by the opposite of love and truth.

Letter Body: Warning against Welcoming Deceivers (vv. 4–11) The rhetorical strategy of the letter body is to remind the readers of who they are and then instruct them not to allow those who undermine their identity into the community. Key elements in their identity mentioned in the letter are that they love each other and confess that Jesus has come “in flesh.” This identity is contrasted with “deceivers,” “the deceiver,” and “the antichrist.” In 1 John “the antichrist” is explained as a personification of all who deny that Jesus is Christ (1 John 2:18–26), so the “the deceiver” and “the antichrist” is probably not a person but a personification of the “deceivers.”

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Having drawn a sharp mental line between the ingroup and the false teachers, the recipients are warned not to welcome false visiting teachers, lest they lose their reward and become participants in their evil. As discussed above in the section “Audience,” controlling the information flow in the social network of a group is important in order to control the social identity of the group. By demanding that the recipients cut off the false teachers from the network, the author attempts to block the information these teachers wish to disseminate.

Postscript and Greetings (vv. 12–13) The postscript and greeting focus on the social bonds between the local congregations. The Elder wishes to visit them, and he sends greetings from “the elect sister,” most probably another local congregation (cf. discussion above under “Audience”). The author understands the importance of personal communication, preferably face to face, to keep the social network between congregations—the weak ties—together.

References Barzilai-Nahon, Karine. “Toward a Theory of Network Gatekeeping: A Framework for Exploring Information Control.” Journal of the American Information Science and Technology 59 (2008): 1–20. Easley, David, and Jon Kleinberg. Networks, Crowds, and Markets: Reasoning About a Highly connected World. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2010.

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3 John Rikard Roitto

Introduction Composition History On the relation between the Gospel and Letters of John, see the commentary on 1 John. On the identity of “the Elder,” see the commentary on 2 John. Third John is a very short and coherent letter, so there is little reason to think that it was not written by one author, the Elder. The letter, addressed to Gaius, has been preceded by another letter to Gaius’s congregation, but we may suspect that this letter was stopped by Diotrephes (v. 10).

Audience On the general social situation and location of the Johannine community, see the corresponding section for 1 John, especially the discussion about the Johannine movement consisting of a network of local congregations. On the exchange of information through letters and itinerant preachers between Johannine congregations, see also the comment on 2 John. Third John is addressed to Gaius, whom the Elder “loves in truth” (v. 1). Gaius belongs to a Johannine congregation, but the status of Gaius is uncertain. The Elder hopes that Gaius has enough influence to counter Diotrephes, who seems to be able to dictate who is allowed into Gaius’s congregation (v. 10).

Literary Structure Third John is a letter and is structured as a typical ancient letter.

Date Probably late first century, see corresponding section for 1 John.

T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament

Theological Themes and Significance See corresponding section for 2 John.

Social Identity Approach See corresponding section for 2 John.

Commentary Prescript and Proem (vv. 1–2) The letter begins like a standard letter by mentioning sender and receiver, followed by wishes for prosperity and health. The affirmation of “love in truth” is subcultural Johannine language of affection. On the identity of the Elder and Gaius, see the discussion above under “Composition History” and “Audience.”

Letter Body: Diotrephes Does Not Welcome Itinerant Preachers (vv. 3–12) The rhetorical strategy of the letter is first to praise Gaius for how well he supports their common cause by receiving itinerant preachers and then contrast Gaius with Diotrephes who does the opposite. Diotrephes is charged with the accusation that he “likes to put himself first” in his congregation, that is, become its leader. The Elder promises to reprove Diotrephes the next time they meet. The Elder does not really ask Gaius to do anything, but rather just complains about Diotrephes’s behavior. The rhetorical goal of the letter therefore seems to be to slander Diotrephes and promote Gauis’s attitude as prototypical. That is, the goal of the letter is to spread information about Diotrephes in the Johannine network that will lower Diotrephes’s ingroup status. The Elder is also convinced that Diotrephes has spoken ill of him and his colleague, so the letter gives us a glimpse into a slandering feud between competitors for influence. Slandering in a social network is not an innocent exercise in letting frustrations out, but rather a highly strategic activity. By successfully spreading credibility information about other nodes in the network, you effectively influence how other nodes will receive information from just mentioned nodes. Diotrephes’s strategy, on the other hand, to cut off the Elder’s preachers from his local social network, is the very same strategy that the Elder himself suggests against the false teachers in 2 John. We may therefore suspect that in Diotrephes’s eyes, the Elder’s representatives are false teachers from whom his community must be protected by cutting off the information flow. 572

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Finally, the Elder also throws in a good word for Demetrius. We do not know why, but since the letter is written in the middle of an information war perhaps the Elder wishes Gaius to influence others to listen to Demetrius and not shut him out from their social network.

Postscript with Greeting (vv. 13–15) The postscript and greeting focus on social relations. The Elder wishes to communicate with Gaius. He wants Gaius to greet each community member by name. Just like the postscript of 2 John, the postscript of this letter expresses the need for personal communication, preferably face to face, to keep the social network between congregations—the weak ties—together. See references in 1 and 2 John for additional resources.

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Jude R. Alan Streett

Introduction Jude is written to urge readers to protect apostolic tradition and stand against “certain intruders” who wish to pervert the established faith (v. 4). These heretics not only teach erroneous doctrines but engage in deviant behavior that falls short of Christlikeness.

Author The author identifies himself as Ioudas, a common name in NT times, which can be translated variously as Jude, Judah, Judas. Ioudas is never applied to a Gentile in ancient literature or inscriptions (Green, 1). The author additionally calls himself “the brother of James” (1:1), presumably the leading elder at the church in Jerusalem and the brother of Jesus. This title enables the author to distinguish himself from others with the same name. The earliest Christ-followers believed the writer to be the younger brother of Jesus (Matt 13:55; Mark 6:3), who came to faith after the resurrection (Acts 1:13). There is no scholarly consensus regarding the actual identity of the author. Some accept uncritically the authenticity of Jude as author (Green, 2–3; Bauckham, 14; Reicke, 191), while others judge the letter to be pseudonymous since the author’s skillful use of the Greek language seems to exceed the abilities of a Galilean peasant (Davids, A Theology, 255–56; Powell, 510). Some contend that Jude might have used an educated amanuensis to help with the composition.

Date The dating depends to a large degree on the identity of the author. If the letter originates with Jude, it can likely be traced from the mid-50s to the late-60s. If not, it should be dated to the late first century CE. The text itself arguably points to a later date. For instance, the author speaks of “the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints” as if speaking of a previous generation (v. 3). He also mentions “the predictions of the apostles” that must now be remembered, a likely indication that these apostles lived in a previous era (v. 17). Furthermore, the dating of Jude and 2 Peter are interrelated. If 2 Peter is dependent on Jude, then by necessity, the latter must be dated earlier.

T&T Clark Social Identity Commentary on the New Testament

Audience The author identifies the recipients as “those who are called and beloved” but does not associate them with any particular geographical location (v. 1). While no regional setting is mentioned, we can assume the addressees are part of a house church or group of house churches that meet regularly for communal meals and ministry. Since the main problem facing the readers deals with “certain intruders [who] have stolen in among you [italics mine]” (v. 4), the author has a specific audience in mind.

Literary Form and Structure Jude takes the form of a polemical letter that vigorously defends the “most holy faith” against those who wish to pervert it (Powell, 517). It opens with a typical salutation (vv. 1–2), followed by the letter proper (vv. 3–23), and concludes with a doxology (vv. 24–25). Some scholars, however, view the main bulk of Jude as a homily or a sermon summary (Bauckham, 3). Jude, much like 2 Peter, follows a customary rhetorical pattern. The author begins with an exordium (vv. 1–3) where he establishes rapport and explains his reason for the letter. This is followed by the narration (v. 4) where Jude explains why the readers must pay attention and heed the content. Next comes the probatio (vv. 5–16), which presents the various proofs for Jude’s arguments. Finally, Jude adds a peroratio, where he recapitulates his case and concludes his letter (Neyrey, 25–26; Davids, The Letters, 23–24). Jude not only turns to the Hebrew Bible to support his arguments but also appeals to the Assumption of Moses (v. 9) and 1 Enoch (vv. 6, 14–15), well-known among Second Temple literature. He probably does not own these texts (since they were expensive), but is simply familiar with their content through oral transmission (Davids, A Theology, 265).

Theological Significance and Importance Jude reflects the church’s theological understanding at the time of his writing. Jude identifies God as “the Father” (v. 1), “Lord” (vv. 8, 14), and “the only God our Savior” (v. 24). As “Father” he is a paterfamilias who guides, protects, and provides his children. In his capacity as “Lord” he rebukes and judges evil. As “Savior” God delivers all Christ-followers from corruption now and forevermore. Jude also calls Jesus “Lord” (kurios), that is, ruler (vv. 4, 5, 17, 21, 24), giving him equal titular status with his Father. The term “Lord” was also reserved for Caesar. The cry “Caesar is Lord” was a “political acclamation” of patriotism throughout the Empire (Davids, A Theology, 283). If Jude has this in mind, the phrase “Jesus is Lord” can be viewed as a counter-imperial pronouncement. Additionally Jude applies the title “Christ,” that is, Messiah-king or anointed one to Jesus who represents and speaks for God (vv. 1, 4, 17, 25). Jude moreover labels Jesus as “Master” (despotēs) a title of ultimate authority (v. 4). Oftentimes, the titles are used in combination.

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Finally Jude mentions the Spirit (vv. 19, 20). In the first instance (19), he notes that the intruders do not possess the Spirit. They are like dead-men walking. In the second instance (20), he encourages the believers to depend on Spirit-motivated and -empowered prayer to sustain them as a community. Other significant theological themes Jude addresses include (1) the judgment to come upon all apostates (eschatology), (2) the assurance of salvation for those who defend the gospel and remain faithful to their covenant with Christ (soteriology), and (3) the correct way to behave at communal meals (ethics).

Jude’s Relationship to Second Peter Jude and 2 Peter clearly have a literary relationship. Either they have a common source or else 2 Peter draws heavily upon material found in Jude. Many scholars believe 2 Peter to be “an edited version of Jude” (Carter and Levine, 324). Both letters deal with the same subject—the intrusion of false teachers. They cite the same illustrations, use identical adjectives to describe the intruders, and pronounce judgment on all apostasy, the whole while calling on church members to remain faithful.

Social Identity Approach According to accounts in the book of Acts, gospel heralds called for their hearers to (1) repent, that is, renounce former allegiances and pledge their fidelity to the resurrected and reigning Lord Jesus, and (2) submit themselves to baptism in Christ’s name. Those responding positively received the gift of the Spirit whose indwelling marked them as people of God and empowered them to live as kingdom citizens. Baptized believers now had a new social identity in the community of Christ, where they were no longer described in terms of ethnicity, status, or gender (“Jew or Greek . . . slave or free . . . male and female”), but as “one in Christ” (Gal 3:26–28). Jude is concerned with infiltrators who embrace values contrary to the community, teach erroneous doctrines, and engage in immoral activity at the Lord’s Table. He concludes that these intruders show no signs of being genuine Christ-followers.

Commentary Salutation (1–2) Jude classifies himself as “a servant (doulos) of Jesus,” which places him in a subservient position to Jesus whom he designates as the “Christ,” that is, messiah or anointed one. He also self identifies as the “brother of James” (v. 1a). The only James prominent enough among believers to need no further designation would arguably be James, the leader of the church at Jerusalem and

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brother of Jesus (Gal 1:19). This would make Jude a brother of Christ as well. According to the Gospel of Matthew, Jude is the fourth child of Mary and Joseph (Matt 13:53–56). Jude identifies the recipients as “called” ones, that is, those who have heard and responded to the summons of the gospel (v. 1b). He further delineates them as (1) “beloved” or dear to God, and (2) “kept” [or preserved] for/by Jesus Christ” (v. 1c), signifying these church members have an intimate relationship with the Father and his Son. A typical threefold greeting assures the addressees an abundance of “mercy, peace, and love” (i.e., compassion, inner calm, and charity) (v. 2). As recipients of their heavenly Father’s benevolence they no longer have to rely on Roman patronage to survive. Their new social identity is based on their relationship with Christ and his kingdom, and not with Caesar and the Empire. The term “mercy” (eleos)—the Hebrew equivalent hesed—speaks of covenantal compassion or loving kindness that also appears in v. 21, and thus serves as brackets around the letter.

Occasion for Writing the Letter (3–4) In this paragraph Jude explains that his original intent for writing the letter has changed because of urgent circumstances. What started out to be a letter about mutual “salvation” has turned into an exhortation to “contend for the faith” that God has once and for all “entrusted” to them (v. 3). This admonition signifies two things. First, Jude assigns to the readers the task of protecting or defending “the faith,” a likely reference to the gospel and not to an established set of dogmatic beliefs. Doctrinal matters were not settled until the fourth century. The gospel, however, was fixed from the start (1 Cor 15:1–5). Second, he warns the readers to expect opposition. His instruction “to contend” signifies a struggle ahead. Jude now explicitly gives the reason for his admonition and the needed change in direction of the letter. Like terrorists who slip into a country unawares, he warns that an unnamed group of infiltrators have crept into the congregation (v. 4a). They are described by two relative clauses: (1) “who long ago were” marked for condemnation and (2) “who pervert the grace of our God” (v. 4b). These “ungodly” ones turn God’s grace into license and thus “deny our only Master and Lord, Jesus Christ” (v. 4c). While they claim to be followers of Christ, they betray themselves and deny the Lord by their licentious and abhorrent behavior. While the Christian community was egalitarian in nature and open to diversity, certain ethical standards had to be maintained. According to social identity theory, actions that violate a group’s norms are considered deviant. There is a difference between diversity and deviance, and a gap between freedom and nonconformity. Deviant behavior places one outside the accepted boundary lines of group identity and must be confronted.

Condemnation of the Apostate Teachers (5–23) (5–7) Drawing on three familiar lessons from history, Jude reminds his readers that one may start out strong in the faith, only to falter and fall away in the end. He does not give details of these historical events, knowing their mere mention will conjure up mental pictures in the readers’

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minds and motivate them to persevere. He first alludes to the escape of God’s people from Egypt only to be destroyed because of persistent unbelief (v. 5). Jude next writes of the angels who did not retain their original status, but rebelled against God, likely a reference to the Watchers who cohabited with women and produced an offspring of hybrids (Gen 6:1–4; 1 Enoch 6, 7). Not satisfied with their assigned place, and desiring to be free of the godly restraints, they ended up in “eternal chains” waiting for judgment (v. 6). Finally Jude mentions “Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding cities” that “indulged in sexual immorality and pursued unnatural lusts.” As a result the people of these cities faced “a punishment of eternal fire” (v. 7). In each case, the Hebrews, the angels, and the city dwellers departed from God’s purpose and faced the consequences of their actions. (8–13) Jude now charges the infiltrators—whom he calls “dreamers”—with committing sexual sins, snubbing authority, and defaming angels (v. 8). This implies that their aberrant behavior is based on prophetic or delusionary imaginations. Their arrogance is evident when one considers that even Michael, God’s chief angelic messenger, did not rebuke the devil when disputing over “the body of Moses” (v. 9). The “irrational” apostates, like animals in heat, live by their instincts, which in the end will destroy them (v. 10). Jude’s lesson is potent. Christ-followers—even leaders—can choose a life of debauchery and, in doing so, renounce their baptismal vows. To illustrate this point, Jude compares the OT figures of Cain, Balaam, and Korah to the contemporary reprobates and then pronounces “Woe” on them (v. 11). Cain slew his brother and committed other evil deeds because of his unbelief; Balaam prophesied for material gain; Korah led a coup against Moses, God’s authorized leader. Each departed from the faith. Jude now describes the infiltrators in five ways: first, “These are blemishes on your love feasts (agapais), while they feast with you without fear, feeding themselves” (v. 12a). Believers gathered weekly for a communal meal, that is, a love feast, to eat, fellowship, and engage in ministry. Their meal mimicked the standard Roman banquet. To discern the seriousness of Jude’s charge that the false teachers “are blemishes” on the feast, one must first grasp the significance of Roman banquets in general, especially within the first-century cultural context of Empire. Rome operated as a domination system, that is, a social structure designed to give a small minority of elites and aristocrats absolute control over the vast majority of people. Rome used several avenues to keep the masses in tow: military action, burdensome taxes, confiscation of land, emperor worship (patriotism), patronage networks, voluntary associations, and reclining banquets, among others. The latter were special feasts (not ordinary daily meals) in which people participated from all strata of society. They were held in association halls, temples, and homes. All banquets consisted of a deipnon (a full-course reclining meal) and a symposion (after-dinner activities). The two segments were linked by a libation, a drink offering of wine, poured out to Caesar and the deities associated with a particular guild, nation, or household. This was a way of promoting allegiance to Caesar and the Empire. One’s social status determined which banquet he attended and one’s rank among the guests determined where he reclined. Hence, social identity was wrapped up in banquet attendance and seating. Elites ate with elites and peasants with peasants, reflecting the social order of the Empire. Those in seats of honor were given a better fare or a larger portion of food. 579

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Rome viewed the banquet as a social institution, that is, “a system or activity . . . in which all members of society participate. By its nature a social institution preserves societal values and regulates human behavior, defines kinship, and transmits knowledge and beliefs from one generation to the next, thus helping to preserve the common good” (Streett, The Agapé, 475–76). Rome used meals as a means of forming social identity. The Roman banquets were occasions where everyone enjoyed food, comradery, and post-meal activities. To ensure mutual pleasure, the evening’s affairs were to be conducted “decently and in order.” To this end, invited guests had ethical obligations to one another, and agreed to conduct themselves according to the principles of social etiquette, which were universally understood, and also enumerated in the by-laws of the sponsoring group or guild. Drunkenness, quarreling, sexual, and other abusive behaviors were discouraged. However, on occasion, things got out of hand and discipline was administered. The Christian love feast followed a similar pattern, only it focused on Christ, not Caesar. It opened with the breaking of bread in honor of Christ, whom Rome executed for political crimes against the state. Participants claimed that God had raised him from the dead and declared him to be Lord of all. Their identity was linked to his. Next supper was served, but unlike a Roman banquet, diners could recline wherever they wished and ate the same food, regardless of their social status and ethnicity. After the meal they raised a cup to honor Jesus’s name, who poured himself out as a drink offering on their behalf. The symposion followed as they sang songs that exalted Jesus, read Scriptures, prayed to God as their benefactor, ministered to each other in the power of the Spirit, and spoke of a coming kingdom when Christ would judge the nations and rule the world. For Christ-followers the love feast meal served as an instrument of social identity, providing a venue where believers practiced and experienced their oneness in Christ. As the name implies, the entire evening was characterized by charity, the covenantal law of Christ’s kingdom. The Christian community adopted the same humility before men and obedience to God that Jesus exhibited while on earth. The meal was the one occasion when community members could practice their holy faith without hindrance. It formed their collective identity. The infiltrators, however, use the feast for their own gain, pervert grace, and behave licentiously, deviating from the community norm. In doing so, they deny Christ and reveal themselves to be false prophets. Jude calls them “blemishes” (spilas), variously translated “hidden reefs,” a metaphor for danger. Unless recognized and avoided, they will shipwreck the church. Second, Jude describes the infiltrators as “waterless clouds carried along by the winds” (v. 12b). Empty clouds speak of failed expectations, especially for farmers. Clouds devoid of rain only disappoint. Jude’s analogy may be an allusion to the proverbial saying, “Like clouds and wind without rain is one who boasts of gifts never given” (Prov 25:14). This is an apt description of the false teachers. They lack evidence common to all Christ-followers. Third, they are like “autumn trees without fruit” (v. 12c). This is another picture of false expectations and disappointment. These congregational intruders are fruitless. Jude amplifies by adding, they are “twice dead, uprooted.” Revelation 20:6 speaks of a second death when referring to those who face a final judgment. There is no fruit because they are not rooted in Christ (see Col 2:6). Devoid of life, they are like the walking dead. Fourth, Jude describes the interlopers as “wild waves of the sea, casting up foam of their own shame” (v. 12d). The sea’s shame is the debris it deposits on the shore like mire, seaweed, trash, 580

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and driftwood—nothing of value. Wild waves produce a lot of motion and noise, but offer little of value. Isaiah 57:20–21 likens the wicked to a troubled sea. In an honor and shame culture, to act shamefully meant that one besmirched their family name or did not behave according to acceptable group norms. In this case, the false teachers embarrass the name of Christ and by their actions repudiate their identity in the Christian community. The fifth comparison is “wandering stars, for which the deepest darkness has been reserved forever” (v. 12e). Whereas true believers will shine as stars (Dan 12:3), the imposters are like stars that have veered off course, headed toward eternal darkness: they offer no guidance to God’s people. These metaphors—worthless worship, wind-driven clouds, withering trees, wild waves, and wandering stars—represent disgrace, disappointment, death, disorder, and doom. (14–16) Jude now loosely quotes Enoch’s eschatological prophecy that “the Lord is coming” (1 Enoch 1:9), accompanied by a myriad “of his holy ones” in order to judge and convict all blasphemers and “ungodly sinners” (vv. 14–15). The present company of imposters—“grumblers and malcontents”—are in that number. They are like the Hebrew children who wandered through the wilderness and murmured against Moses and God. Their lust-laden behavior and pompous verbosity advance their self-centered agenda (v. 16). (17–23) With the pretenders inside their gates, the readers must “remember” the apostolic warning: “In the last time there will be scoffers, indulging their own ungodly lusts” (vv. 17–18). Forgetfulness is an enemy of the church. Having been forewarned, the Christ-followers must take action to “contend for the faith” (v. 3). A battle is afoot. “Devoid of the Spirit,” the charlatans are “causing divisions” in the church (v. 19) and gaining followers. Factions now exist that must be overcome. Authentic Christ-followers, on the other hand, possess the Spirit. This means the troublemakers are counterfeits, despite their claim to prophetic dreams. Jude makes it clear that possession of the Spirit is central to one’s identity with Christ and the community. To be “devoid of the Spirit” places one spiritually outside the community of faith. The false teachers are nothing more than fruitless trees, waterless clouds, and waves spewing forth useless foam. By contrast, Jude identifies the faithful Christians as “beloved,” and issues them another warning to guard against being drawn away from the Father’s benevolent love (v. 21a). To meet this challenge they must take three steps, each beginning with a participle in the Greek text. First, they should “build . . . on your most holy faith” (v. 20a). As in 2 Peter 1:5–7, believers must add to the foundation of faith. These Christian graces will protect them from falling into apostasy. Second, they must “pray in the Holy Spirit” (v. 20b). This involves asking and relying on the indwelling Spirit to guide them in their walk of faith. Third, they should “look forward to the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ” (v. 21b). This “look” of hope likely refers to the parousia when believers will be vindicated and receive “eternal life” (v. 21c). Note the mention of the triune God: Holy Spirit (v. 20), God (v. 21a), and the Lord Jesus Christ (v. 21b). Jude further instructs the readers “to have mercy” on wobbly church members (v. 22). “Mercy” here speaks of compassion, kindness, and empathy. Christian love can make the difference for some wavering souls. Jude also implores the faithful believers to rescue “others by snatching them out of the fire” (v. 23a). “Fire” is a metaphor for judgment. This decisive action is necessary when church members stand on the brink of departing from the faith and joining the opponents. Jude finally

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tasks his readers to “have mercy on still others with fear.” This last mission is the most dangerous because it involves persuading those who have actually stepped over the line and embraced some of the corrupt behavior of the wayward mentors. The assignment must be undertaken with “fear” because the troubled souls have become debauched. Jude adds this addendum, “hating even the tunic defiled by their bodies” (v23b). The tunic was the garment worn next to the skin that had become unclean. If taken literally, this description infers that some church members have engaged in sexual immorality—bodily secretions spot their garments. If taken metaphorically, Jude likens apostasy to leprosy which renders the subject ceremonially unclean (Lev 13:1–3, 47–52). In either case, the mission is dangerous. Like a firefighter who is overcome by smoke or a lifeguard pulled under by the drowning victim, the church member must approach this rescue operation with caution, lest he or she succumbs to temptation and becomes defiled themselves.

Benediction (24–25) This short but potent letter concludes with a doxology, which speaks of God’s ability (v. 24) and his attributes (v. 25), respectively. First, Jude praises God “who is able to keep you from falling” (v. 24a). As Christ-followers depend on God’s ability and not their own power, they will survive and thrive. God can and will protect them as they follow Jude’s instructions. He is also able “to make you stand without blemish in the presence of his glory with rejoicing” (v. 24b), another likely allusion to the parousia (Eph 5:26–27). Second, Jude praises “the only God our Savior” whom he approaches “through Jesus Christ our Lord” (v. 25a). A crescendo of virtues is ascribed to the eternal God: “Glory, majesty, power, and authority” (v. 25b). The final word “Amen” is an affirmation. Because of who God is, he will accomplish his will for the church.

Conclusion The Letter of Jude is written to those whose identity is defined and their behavior is formed by their participation in the community of Christ-followers. They must mark out and stringently oppose those in their midst who have deviated from Christian norms. Social identity not only embraces the values of a particular group (in this case, the Christ community) but also combats deviant behavior that violates a group’s expectations and mores. Objectionable members must be excluded to preserve the group’s explicit social identity. For Christ-followers, the foundation of group identity is found in the covenant ethics that Jesus espoused and demonstrated in his ministry and mealtime activities.

References Bauckham, Richard J. Jude, 2 Peter. Word Biblical Commentary 50. Waco: Word, 1983. Carter, Warren, and Amy-Jill Levine. The New Testament: Methods and Meanings. Nashville: Abingdon, 2013.

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Davids, Peter H. The Letters of 2 Peter and Jude. Pillar New Testament Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006. Davids, Peter H. A Theology of James, Peter, and Jude: Biblical Theology of the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2014. Green, Gene L. Jude and 2 Peter. Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2008. Neyrey, Jerome H. 2 Peter, Jude. AB 37C. New York: Doubleday, 1993. Powell, Mark Allan. Introducing the New Testament: A Historical, Literary, and Theological Survey. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2009. Reicke, Bo. The Epistles of James, Peter, and Jude. AB 37. New York: Doubleday, 1964. Streett, R. Alan. “The Agapé Feast in 2 Peter, Imperial Ideology, and Social Identity.” Pages 473–91 in T & T Clark Handbook to Social Identity in the New Testament. Edited by J. Brian Tucker and Coleman A. Baker. London: Bloomsbury, 2014.

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Chapter  28

Revelation Paul Middleton

Introduction The book of Revelation is divisive. Readers throughout history have reacted with equal measures of horror and fascination at its visions of dragons and beasts, its obscure numerology, but perhaps most of all, its gory and bloodthirsty violence. From John’s fertile imagination, slaughtered saints cheer God’s merciless torture and judgment of those designated Beast worshippers (e.g., 19:1–4). According to John, non-Christian inhabitants of the Roman Empire, from the emperor downward, will be tortured by mutant scorpions (9:3–6), plagued by painful sores (16:10–11), and as they lie on the battlefield with birds gorging on their flesh (19:21), the inhabitants of heaven will roar their approval (18:20). The Apocalypse is, in the estimation of Carl Jung, “an orgy of hatred, wrath, vindictiveness, and blind destructive fury.” Similarly, other writers such as D. H. Lawrence, Will Self, and Harold Bloom have all recoiled at its gratuitous violence and, in light of its presentation of women characters, misogyny (see Middleton, Violence, 2–4 for references). However, others have been equally fascinated by John’s text. In its pages, many Christian readers find coded messages of the planet’s future, of political machinations, and a time of future salvation. The best known of these are Hal Lindsay’s The Late Great Planet Earth (1970) and Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins, Left Behind series (1995–2007). Between them, they have sold more than ten million books, testament to the drawing power of the Apocalypse (see Carey, 163–80). While this presentation of Revelation has been vigorously challenged by scholars who see something akin to nonviolent resistance in the image of Revelation’s central character of the slain Lamb (Bredin), the Apocalypse arguably divides not just its readers, but also its characters by a rhetorical strategy that constructs Christian identity through their endurance of suffering, but also vindication by participation in divine violence. While modern readers may object to this strategy, John deploys apocalyptic dualism to divide the world into followers of the Lamb and worshippers of the Beast (deSilva, 270–84). Each group is defined by whom they follow, but also by sharing in the respective glory and judgment of their objects of worship. Followers of the Lamb will share his throne in heaven (20:4–6); worshippers of the Beast will be tormented forever in the lake of fire (20:15). John’s main aim in penning his Apocalypse was to maintain the boundary between these two groups. The threat of violence encourages followers to remain faithful. In effect, although Rome has the power to inflict suffering on the Christian, to recant and switch allegiance from the Lamb to the Beast will result in an even worse fate for those who would then face the wrath of God and the Lamb (6:12–17).

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Audience and Date While the book of Revelation is difficult to date (see Aune, 1:lvi–lxx; Koester, 71–79), a number of commentaries and introductions often declare 95 CE as a reasonably precise year of composition. This is almost entirely based on the testimony of Irenaeus, who claims the Apostle John wrote the text, and it “was seen not long ago, but almost in our generation, at the end of the reign of Domitian” (Adv. Haer. 5.30.3). Since Domitian died in 96 CE, scholars have settled on 95 CE as a reasonable reflection of Irenaeus’s testimony. However, Irenaeus also held to the view that the Apostle John was responsible for the Apocalypse as well as the Johannine letters and Gospel. Although this position is supported by a minority of scholars (Smalley, 4–5), the author never claims apostolic identity. While he mentions the twelve apostles (Rev 21:14), there is no indication he sees himself among their number. Irenaeus’s testimony is also colored by a concern to link his own authority to the apostle through their mutual link with Polycarp (Yarbro Collins, 55–56). Nonetheless, even giving Irenaeus the benefit of the doubt, he is writing long after the event, and so cannot bear the burden of scholarly consensus on Revelation’s date. Justin Martyr’s knowledge of the Apocalypse provides a terminus ad quem of the middle of the second century. The external evidence for dating the Apocalypse is, therefore, inconclusive. When we turn to the internal evidence, John appears to provide a fairly precise hint. He sees a vision of a sevenheaded beast which he interprets as seven kings, “five of whom are fallen, one is, the other is yet to come, and when he comes he must remain for only a little while” (17:10). Taken at face value, John writes during the reign of the sixth king. However, despite such an apparently clear clue, proponents of a range of dates start counting at different emperors. Even those who agree Julius Caesar or Octavian is the first king, reach anywhere from Nero (54–68 CE) to Vespasian (69–79) depending on whether Galba, Otho, and Vitellius, who all reigned briefly during the so-called year of four emperors, are counted. In any case, given the number seven is important throughout the Apocalypse, it is not obvious that the kings are meant to be numbered literally. Advocates of an early date suggest the command to John to measure the temple (11:1–2) indicates the Jerusalem temple had not yet been destroyed. However, the reference to the Gentiles trampling the courts (11:2) appears to indicate otherwise. In any case, John appears more interested in the heavenly rather than earthly Jerusalem (7:15; 14:15, 17; 15:5, 6, 8; 16:1, 17). Moreover, while not decisive, it became common in Jewish texts to refer to Rome as Babylon after they destroyed the temple (e.g., 4 Ezra 3:1–2, 28–34; 2 Apoc. Bar. 10:1–3; 11.1; 67.7; Sib. Or. 5.143, 159), and this is, of course, a significant sobriquet for Rome in the Apocalypse (Rev 14:6; 16:19; 17:4; 18:2, 10, 21). More significantly, there appear to be clear references to the Nero redivivus legend. Nero killed himself in June 68 after being deposed by the senate. However, rumors quickly spread that he was still alive and had fled to Parthia. One strand of the myth held that he would return with Parthian armies to invade Rome (cf. 16:12–16). This would explain the seven-headed beast: “One of its heads seemed to have a mortal wound but its moral wound was healed” (Rev. 13:3). There is further interest in Nero in both the majority and minority readings of the number of the beast. In numerology, the Hebrew transliteration of kaisar neron comes to 666, while a Latin version explains the 616 variant (see Aune 2:770–73). A false Nero appeared as early as 69 CE causing general alarm (Tacitus, Hist. 2.8–9), with further “sightings” in 79/80 and 88. However,

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the legend is represented in second-century texts (e.g., Sib. Or. 4.119–22, 137–39; 5.137–54, 214–27), so the myth does not significantly narrow the quest to find the date of composition. Indeed, late dates under Trajan (98–117) and Hadrian (117–138) have found recent advocates. The final strand of evidence to consider is the social situation assumed by the Apocalypse. Throughout much of the last 2,000 years, readers of Revelation have assumed it was written to Christians experiencing persecution and violence at the hands of the state. The demand to worship the Beast (Revelation 13) was mapped on to the promotion of the Roman Imperial cult (Friesen). Such is the intensity of apparent suffering that many commentators dated the book to the time of Nero’s repression of the Christians in Rome. However, as well as the problems already noted with a pre-70 CE dating, Nero’s action against the Christians was localized and brief, although undeniably could have left a scar on the Christian psyche. Furthermore, there is no evidence the emperor cult had developed in Rome by Nero’s day. The late first-century date sets the Apocalypse under the reign of Domitian, who Eusebius dubbed “the second Nero” (HE 3.17; 4.26.9). Other early tradition suggests Domitian persecuted the church and vigorously promoted the imperial cult (Melito of Sardis in Eusebius HE 4.26.9; Tertullian, Apologia 5). However, while a negative view of Domitian’s reign is found among Roman writers such as Pliny (Paneg. 11.4; 48.3–5; 90.5–7), Suetonius (Dom. 1.3; 4.1, 4), and Tacitus (Germanica 37, 39, 43), they had reason to resent Domitian for inhibiting their promotion, and wrote under a new dynasty when anti-Flavian sentiment was encouraged. Moreover, other contemporaneous writers are more positive about Domitian (Quintilian, Institutio Oratioria 10.1.91; Martial 2.2; 8.15, 78).

Suffering and Persecution If the reigns of neither Nero nor Domitian provide a clear social setting for the Apocalypse, it remains the case that the themes of suffering and persecution, particularly in relation to the emperor cult, pervade the Apocalypse. Believers who refuse to worship the Beast will face certain death (13:15), and armies of martyrs make several appearances (6:9–11; 7:1–7, 9–14; 14:1–5; 20:4–6). From the outset, John indicates both he and his readers have or suffer tribulation (thlipsis) and must meet it with patient endurance (hupomonē 1:9). John praises the churches for their endurance in the face of suffering on four occasions (2:9, 10, 19; 3:10), and later indicates endurance will be required in the face of martyrdom (13:10; 14:12). He offers encouragement to those of the seven churches that have experienced suffering (2:3, 13; 3:4, 10), and warns those in Smyrna that they are about to suffer as the devil will throw some of them in prison for testing, where they will face tribulation. Crucially, the danger of martyrdom is present, as he warns them to be “faithful to death” in order to receive a crown of life (2:10). John identifies Pergamum as the place where Satan lives and has his throne. Nonetheless, despite being pressured to deny Jesus’s name and his faith, they have remained firm, even though at least one Christian was killed. Antipas, the only named martyr in Revelation, is described, like Jesus, as a faithful witness/martyr (martus pistos 2:13; cf. 1:5). The combination of references to Satan’s throne and the danger of denying Jesus’s name resonate with trial scenes described in later Christians martyr acts, such as the Martyrdom of Polycarp (9–12), in which believers are given the choice between sacrificing to the emperor or the gods and cursing Jesus, or remaining

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faithful at the cost of their lives. The concern about Christians denying Jesus appears again in the letter to Philadelphia, where the recipients are commended for keeping Jesus’s word and not denying his name (Rev 3:8). However, while the emperor cult was growing in significance at this time, especially outside Rome, there is little evidence it was enforced in the way suggested by Revelation. In a text in which the possibility of martyrdom appears to be a potent threat, it is striking that John names only one martyr. This may indicate the threat is perceived or indeed created, rather than real (Yarbro Collins). Nonetheless, even if the “body count” is low at the time of writing, John clearly expects others to follow where Jesus and Antipas led. When the fifth seal is opened, John sees under the altar in heaven “souls of those who had been slain for the world of God and for the witness they had borne” (Rev 6:9). When they ask how long it will be before God will judge those who slew them (6:10), they are given a white robe and told to wait until “the number of their fellow servants and their brothers should be complete, who were to be killed as they themselves had been” (6:11). Therefore, for John, judgment and vindication will occur only when other Christians—his readers—are martyred. Christian identity is created both by what believers are and by what they are not. In the apocalyptic worldview of the seer, there is no middle way. After the war in heaven, in which the dragon is cast out of heaven (12:7–8), the furious dragon makes war on the church—“Those who keep the commandments of God and bear testimony to Jesus” (12:17). This is the point John’s readers find themselves in the cosmic story. In the iconic chapter in which the Beast rises from the sea, John divides humanity into those who worship the Beast (13:3, 8) and those who refuse to do so (13:15). This is not an equal division. All the inhabitants of the earth will become Beast worshippers, and will be marked on their foreheads or right hand (13:16). In contrast to the Beast worshippers who inhabit the earth, only those whose names have been written in the Lamb’s book of life (13:8), who have been redeemed from the earth (14:3), and sealed by the Lamb on their foreheads (14:1; cf. 7:3–4) will refuse to worship the Beast. As a consequence of refusing to worship the Beast, Christians will be slain (13:15; 20:4). The testimony Christians bear is the cause of their persecution and martyrdom, but their testimony is also the means by which they conquer the dragon (12:11). Therefore, for John, one is either named in the Lamb’s book of life or not (13:8). This will determine whether one is a follower of the Lamb (14:4) or a worshipper of the Beast (13:8). Importantly, in the theological landscape of the Apocalypse, all whose names are in the Lamb’s book of life will refuse to worship the Beast (13:8), and all who refuse to worship the Beast will be slain (13:5). Consequently, suffering and martyrdom are the primary identity markers of a true Christian. In the literary world of the Apocalypse, martyrs are not a subset of faithful Christians; all faithful Christians will be martyred. In the Apocalypse, the endurance of suffering defines Christians. However, throughout Revelation, Beast worshippers are subjected to violent judgment and torture before the Lamb (e.g., 14:10). Moreover, the followers of the Lamb share in this judgment. Not only do they rejoice in the suffering of the inhabitants of the earth, they participate in divine judgment. Vindication for the martyrs in the Apocalypse, as it was for the Lamb, includes resurrection and glorification, and the right to sit on the judgment seat of the Lamb. For John, then, both Beast worshippers and Lamb followers will suffer at the hands of their respective opponents. However, the vision John offers did not correspond to the situation in which Christians found themselves. The emperor was on the throne with mighty armies at his command. Christians lived as a small insecure sect in the midst of a powerful empire. For those 588

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tempted to wonder “who is like the Beast, and who can make war against it?” (13:4), John has an answer: the Lamb and his followers. Revelation was written to reinforce the view of the world that God was in fact the emperor on the throne (pantokratōr; for example, 6:10), and that Rome with all its apparent might will be humiliated before the power of the Lamb. Through his Apocalypse, John widens the chasm between followers of the Beast and the Lamb in order to dissuade any of his readers from siding with Babylon. He warns them to “come out of her, lest you participate in her sins” (18:4). He promises harsh judgment on false prophets, like Balaam and Jezebel (2:14– 16, 20–23), who encourage—according to John—“non-orthodox” Christian practice. If John was not writing to the church in a time of crisis, then the book of Revelation creates that crisis, to which his readers must respond. The stark choice John sets before the church is this: they will be tortured by either the Beast or the Lamb; Revelation sets out why the former is the better choice!

Narrative Plot in Revelation Each generation which has imagined itself as living at the end attempts to discern the “signs of the times” (cf. Matt 16:2–3). Elaborate biblical chronologies are constructed using mainly the books of Daniel and Revelation. The assumption in this schema is that Revelation’s narrative should be understood in a temporally linear manner. The judgments, plagues, and torments are thought to unfold in sequence leading to the final judgment in Revelation 20. Many scholarly readers too, although they do not share the idea that the images map on to world events, share the view that Revelation works on an approximately linear narrative timeframe. When the sixth seal is opened, it ushers in stock apocalyptic signs associated with the Hebrew Bible “Day of the Lord”: “Behold, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth, the full moon became like blood, and the starts of the sky fell to the earth . . . the sky vanished like a scroll that is rolled up, and every mountain and island was removed from its place” (Rev 6:12–15). These are signs of the final judgment, and indeed, the peoples of the earth recognize the signs as the great day of the wrath of God and the Lamb. However, although these cosmic signs map precisely on to other New Testament expectations of the end, some commentators argue “the writer of Revelation 6:12–17 knows that the end is not yet, and that there is more to follow” (Smalley, 168). Similarly Barr reads the text such that he imagines the “logic of John’s narrative story” means readers are left “waiting for the end that never comes” (Barr). However, to read Revelation in this way creates problems, not least severe “continuity errors.” A third of the stars cannot fall from the sky in Rev 8:2, because there are no stars left in the sky to fall after 6:12–17. Indeed, there is no sky! So although more narrative follows the scene depicting the wrath of the Lamb, including further judgments on the wicked, it serves to reinforce the message already given; those outside the church will be punished when the day of judgment comes. By contrast, the faithful church depicted first as 144,000 warriors (7:1–8), and then as a countless number of martyrs (7:9–17), will be shepherded by the Lamb (7:17; cf. 14:4). By the end of ch. 7, when the seals of the scroll introduced in ch. 5 have been opened, John has presented the central message of Revelation, which he then repeats from 8:1 and 15:1. The church must keep itself pure from the polluting influences of Rome. Although they may suffer tribulation, their persecutors will be judged by the Lamb. They should embrace suffering and

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martyrdom, just as the Lamb did, but who is now resurrected, glorified, and judges the peoples of the earth. For the Lamb who judges the world in violent wrath is also the one who will shepherd his martyr church; he has redeemed them with his blood (7:14), and he will wipe away their tears (7:17). Christian identity in Revelation is created through following the Lamb wherever he goes (cf. 14:4).

The Structure of Revelation It seems there as many proposed structures of the book of Revelation as scholars who have attempted to discern it (see Aune, 1:xc–cxxxiv). The Apocalypse contains several clear heptadic episodes: there are seven letters (2–3), seven seals (6:1–8:1), seven trumpets (8:2–11:8), and seven bowls (15:1–16:21). However, while the seals and the trumpets follow a clear 4 + 3 pattern, the epistles and the bowls do not. John also punctuates the action with three “woes” (9:12), but only numbers two (9:12; 11:14). There are also three significant Christophanies (1:12–20; 5:5–6; 19:11–16). He has other sequences of seven, scattered through the text, such as the beatitudes (1:3; 14:13; 16:15; 19:9; 22:6, 7, 14), but John also appears to break off from the flow of his narration to describe other visions, which usually leaves some “remainder” in overly neat divisions. Some reconstructions are relatively straightforward, so both Yarbro Collins (13–29) and Koester (112–15) propose six cycles with introduction and appendix. While they both divide the sections in more or less the same place, Yarbro Collins’s construction includes two appendices of material that does not quite fit the superstructure. Moreover, as Aune notes, the proposals of Yarbro Collins, and indeed others, rely on arbitrarily juxtaposing numbered and unnumbered cycles. Aune’s own solution is far more elaborate, but essentially comprises two unhelpfully unequal sections: the first three chapters, followed by the rest of the book made up of various episodes (1:xc–cv). Nonetheless, it worth stressing that structures are only useful in so far as they aid interpretation. The structure offered here stems from my view that Revelation 4–22 reinforces the messages to the seven churches, which although are addressed to individual communities are “communal mail” (deSilva, 189), in which Christians are given models of good and poor behavior. They are warned to repent or to hold to what they have, and they are cautioned that tribulation lies ahead. The means by which they can become conquerors is to suffer and if necessary endure martyrdom, as Antipas (2:13) and Christ (1:5) have done. Nonetheless, like Christ, they will be glorified, sit with him on his throne and judge the nations (20:4–6). They are enjoined, albeit with the threat of divine violence should they fail, to remain pure, including distancing themselves from wayward Christians (2:14–16, 20–23). Ultimately, the Apocalypse from the outset reinterprets reality through the lens of the glorified Christ and the throne room of God. Those who threaten the church will be systematically judged and destroyed, and so those tempted to deny Jesus’s name are warned that a fate worse than any Roman could inflict awaits the denier. Blount (122) dubs John “the Master of a three ring narrative circus,” and although he does not mean this in a structural sense, I borrow this image to frame my macrostructure for reading the Apocalypse. I am not suggesting John intentionally wrote Revelation in this way, but as the message of the first three chapters are reinforced throughout the remainder of the Apocalypse, it seems to me there are three repeated narrative cycles (1–7; 8–14; 15–22). In each one, the 590

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respective fates of the wicked and saved are contrasted, reinforcing John’s conviction that Christian identity is to be found in following and modeling the Lamb.

Social Identity Approach Social identity theory (SIT) focuses on intergroup conflict. It is, therefore, particularly helpful for highlighting the thought-world of the Apocalypse, steeped as it is in cosmic dualism. The vision for social identity in Revelation draws intergroup comparisons that maximize ingroup and outgroup difference. That is to say, there is no recategorization of subgroup identities, or reflection on multiple identities; the literary world of the Apocalypse is inhabited by two social groupings: the followers of the Lamb and the followers of the Beast. Conflict between these two incongruous identities is inevitable, so John’s approach coheres most closely with processes associated with identity maintenance. Henri Tajfel’s work is attenuated by attention to the temporal aspects of the rhetoric in the text. Marco Cinnirella’s future possible social identities provide a way to organize the time-focused orientation in the Apocalypse. The seer imagines a future group to which his readers belong, and that future identity serves to strengthen ingroup identity in the midst of the suffering and persecution John thinks will inevitably befall the martyr church. The concept of boundaries obviously plays an important role in Revelation, and these boundaries are not porous—they are repeatedly solidified. If an ingroup member considers an identity transformation from the follower of the Lamb to that of the Beast, that member will soon discover that the temporary-self-induced gate may only open one way—out. This strengthening of symbolic boundaries also relies on another SIT development, the so-called black sheep effect (Marques and Páez). The idea here is that ingroup identity may be strengthened by the way a social influencer highlights deviance among particular ingroup members. This results in a renewed selfcategorization among the ingroup as its identity is negotiated within the broader social context. In the literary world of the Apocalypse, the context of the Roman Empire eventually becomes an explicit determinant in the formation or potential deformation of a salient Lamb-follower social identity. Therefore, the seer shows some concern for the group in relation to their behavior, beliefs, and perceptions of the outgroup. Much of the Apocalypse relies, somewhat counterintuitively, on the threat of divine violence as a warning to keep the ingroup members within the group. The way the seer accomplishes this is to reduce uncertainty about the future, casting a vision for a future possible social identity as those who will reign with Jesus.

Commentary The First Ring (1:1–7:17) The Risen Jesus Speaks to the Church (1:1–3:22) (1:1–8) Introduction The first word of Revelation immediately confronts the reader with the question of its genre. Apocalypsis means unveiling, and what unfolds is a revelation from heaven.

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Different genres demand different reading strategies, yet the genre of Revelation is yet another fiercely disputed question (see Aune, 1:lxx–xc; Koester, 104–12). Traditionally, Revelation has been assigned to the category of “apocalyptic literature,” alongside other contemporaneous writings such as 1 Enoch, 2 Enoch, 2 Baruch, and 4 Ezra (cf. the proto-apocalypses of the Hebrew Bible: Dan 7–12; Isa 24–27; Zech 9–14). The most influential definition of an Apocalypse remains that given by John Collins: “A genre of revelatory literature with a narrative framework, in which a revelation is mediated by an otherwordly being to a human recipient, disclosing a transcendent reality which is both temporal, insofar as it envisages eschatological salvation, and spatial, insofar as it involves another supernatural world” (Collins, 9). However, although Revelation is the first text to self-designate as “an apocalypse” (Aune, 1:lxxvii), paradoxically, John’s apocalypse does not fit this definition as well as the other apocalyptic texts: Revelation is not pseudonymous; while it has visions, they do not recount world history; and although angels interpret various visions (e.g., 5:5; 7:13–14; 19:9–10), John is not accompanied throughout by an angelic interpreter. Therefore, the extent to which it is useful to read Revelation as an apocalypse is increasingly questioned (see Fletcher, 182–213; contra Aune, 1:lxxxi–lxxxviii). Even within the first few verses the genre appears to oscillate between an apocalypse (1:1), prophecy (1:8), and an epistle (1:4, 8). Although the Apocalypse opens (1:4–6) and closes (22:16– 21) like a letter, and contains seven letters to seven churches, there is little support for the view that Revelation as a whole constitutes an epistle. This is largely because the epistolary elements are generally regarded as superficial, which can be easily detached from the Apocalypse (Aune 1:lxxii–lxxv). However, as with structure, my main concern here is not to identify a genre for its own sake, but as a way to aid understanding the text. Sidestepping the issue of compositional history, the final version of the text begins and ends like an epistle. While the seven letters have specific addressees, chs 4–22 reinforce the message of those epistles as a whole. Therefore, even if the Apocalypse does not comfortably fit any of the genre casts, I will be reading John’s work as an open epistle to seven churches in Asia Minor in the form of a prophetic apocalypse. Several important themes of the Apocalypse appear in the introduction. First, it is a “revelation of Jesus Christ” given by God to show to his servants (1:1). For John, Jesus is the sole mediator of God’s revelation (cf. John 15:15; Matt 11:27//Luke 10:22). The Apocalypse contains arguably the highest Christology in the New Testament, in which the distinction between God and Jesus is not always apparent. In the cosmology of Revelation, Jesus and God are distinct from humanity and angelic beings, as is made apparent even in the first verse, in which Jesus sends his angel to transmit his message. Moreover, while both God and Jesus are rightful recipients of worship (Bauckham, 118–49), on a number of occasions, angels make clear that they are not (19:10; 22:8–9). For John, God is the ultimate power in the cosmos. Divine attributes form an inclusio around the short grace formally opening the “letter” (1:4–8). God is “the one who is and who was and who is to come” (1:4, 8; cf. 4:8), the Alpha and Omega, and the Almighty (1:8). John is the first Christian writer to invoke the Greek version of the divine name (ho ōn; cf. LXX Exod 3:14), used among contemporaneous Jews (e.g., Josephus, Ant. 8.13.7; Philo, Abr. 121). He also describes God as the Almighty (pantokratōr), a common title for the emperor. Despite earthy appearances, John encourages his readers to adjust their lenses to see the world in which God rather than any emperor sits on the throne. John is a prophet of God, and therefore claims for himself ultimate authority for his message (deSilva, 124–29). From a social identity perspective, John’s writing 592

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functions as an authorizing discourse contributing to the definition and legitimation of a particular social identity—followers of the Lamb (14:4). John incorporates Christ into his exalted theology. Christ will repeat God’s claim to be “Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end” at the conclusion of the Apocalypse (Rev 22:12–13), but in the opening, mirroring the tripartite description of God, Jesus is the faithful witness (ho martus ho pistos), the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings on earth (1:5). These three titles represent Jesus’s death, resurrection, and glorification. While martus had not yet taken on its later Christian exclusive reference to a martyr, the connection with Antipas, the only other character described in this way (2:13), makes it likely the crucifixion is in view. The second title, firstborn from the dead (cf. Col 1:18), makes more sense if the first refers to his death. Finally, in an affirmation that will be repeated throughout the Apocalypse, Jesus reigns; He is Ruler of the kings on the earth, King of kings, and Lord of lords (cf. 17:14; 19:16). The final link in the opening chain is between John and the church. John bears witness “to the word of God and testimony of Jesus” (1:2). These two phrases (or variants thereof) appear together on a number of occasions in the Apocalypse: on account of the word of God and testimony of Jesus, John is in Patmos (1:9); martyrs are made as a result of the word of God and testimony (6:9; 20:4); and they are named as the cause of the dragon’s war on the saints (12:17; cf. 14:12). While interpreters have argued for specific referents for the testimony of Jesus, such as the text of Revelation itself (Dixon, 81–93; Ryan, 94–113), there is no reason to suppose it always carries the same meaning on each occasion. It is better understood as the message from God, by which Christians then witness to Jesus. John depicts both the church and those outside in his opening. The church, the ingroup, has been freed from their sins by Jesus’s blood, and they too are elevated to the positions of being priests to God, a kingdom (1:5–6). By contrast, when Christ returns, the tribes of the earth, the outgroup, will wail when they see him, for his coming, as is made clear throughout the Apocalypse, will signal judgment (1:7). Therefore, those who hear John’s words are blessed. But they must hold to what they hear, for the time is short (1:3). In one sense, John’s identity formation purpose is to reinforce the symbolic boundaries between the ingroup (the followers of the Lamb) and the outgroup (the followers of the Beast). For John, there is no middle ground for Christian identity. (1:9–20) Christophany I: One like a Son of Man John turns to the circumstances of writing. While he affirms he shares in tribulation with the church, and that he is on Patmos “on account of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus” (1:9), opinion has turned away from the ancient view John was imprisoned there (e.g., Clement, Quis dives salvetur 45; Tertullian, Adv. Marc. 4.2; 5.16). There is no evidence Patmos was used as a penal colony (Aune, 1:78). Instead, Patmos is the site of the revelation. John is “in the Spirit,” a sign of his prophetic calling and a guarantee of the authority for what he writes (1:10), and is commanded to write to the seven churches (1:11). The voice sounds like a trumpet, which would lead a literate Jewish reader to expect the voice of God (e.g., Exod 19:5, 18–19). However, when he turns, he sees Christ in the first of the Apocalypse’s three Christophanies (1:12–20). Language functions as the primary vehicle for communicating social comparisons and ingroup bias, and what is clear here is John intends to rely on similar processes in the Apocalypse. John’s presentation of Christ conflates two images found in Daniel 7: the Son of Man and the Ancient of Days. The seer had already utilized Daniel 7 for his image of Christ coming on the 593

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clouds (1:7; cf. Mark 14:62). John’s “son of man” matches Daniel’s Ancient of Days: clothing white as snow, head like wool, flaming fire. Like Daniel in his vision, John falls on his face (Rev 1:17; cf. Dan 10:9). John’s adaptation of the Son of Man imagery of Daniel is consistent with his presentation of Christ as the one who comes in judgment. In his mouth is a double-edged sword, with which elsewhere in the Apocalypse he will make war on idolaters (Rev 2:16), smite the nations (19:15), and slay the armies of the Beast (19:21). In the only other occasion in which Christ is presented as one like a Son of Man, he is seated on a cloud, with a crown on his head, and a sharp sickle in his hand with which he will harvest the earth (14:14). John’s son of man Christology goes well beyond Jewish descriptions, which tend to stay close to their Danielic source (1 Enoch). Instead, John allows Christological and theological imagery to emerge in his exalted presentation of Christ. Nonetheless, incorporated within this vision of exalted Christology is the death of Christ; he says he died, but is now alive (1:17). This firmly establishes him as Christ. John’s high Christology is evidenced by his echoing the words earlier spoken by God: “I am the first and the last, and the living one” (1:17–18). John’s Jesus resonates with Isaiah’s presentation of Yahweh, who likewise tells his people “I am he; I am the first and the last” (Isa 48:12), and encourages them not to fear (Isa 41:10). Similarly, he lives forever (1:18; cf. 4:9, 10; 10:6; 15:7), and has power over Death and Hades. The first chapter establishes John’s authority and mandate for writing the Apocalypse; it positions him as an agent of social influence in regard to the group’s identity. He has been commanded to do so by God and Christ. These, John claims, are not his own words, but revealed to him while in the Spirit by none other than the exalted Christ. John represents the churches alongside his vision of Christ in the form of stars and lampstands. Christ, he insists, walks among them, and will judge them according to how they receive the letters delivered by John, but dictated by Christ. In his opening chapter, the seer has established not only extraordinarily high Christology but his own high prophetic calling and mandate. (2:1—3:22) The Letters to the Seven Churches John claims to be the vessel of divine revelation, bearing witness to what he saw (1:2), and claiming divine authority for his messages to the seven churches (1:11, 19). Each epistle begins with a command to write to the “angel of the church” with the introductory formula tade legei (1:2, 8, 12, 18; 3:1, 7, 14), which while rare in Hellenistic Greek occurs more than 300 times in the Septuagint to introduce divine speech (“Thus says the Lord”). John, therefore, attributes to the risen Jesus the authority to speak as God did. John recapitulates much of the divine imagery associated with Christ in the first chapter in each of the introductions to his letters. Christ holds the seven stars in his right hand (Rev 2:1; cf. 1:16); he is the first and last, who died and came to life (2:8; cf. 1:17–18); he has the sharp double-edged sword (2:18; cf. 1:16); he has eyes like fire and feet like burnished bronze (2:18; cf. 1:14); he has the seven spirits of God and the seven stars (3:1; cf. 1:4, 16); he is the holy and true one, who has the key of David (3:7; cf. 1:18 for the key to Death and Hades); and he is the faithful and true witness (3:14; cf. 1:5). Moreover, the activity of Christ in the letters substantially overlaps with exclusively divine privileges. Each oracle warns its readers that Christ knows their works (2:1, 19; 3:1, 8, 15) or their specific situations in cases of tribulation (2:9, 13). In the final judgment scene of Revelation, the dead will be raised and each person will be judged according to their works (20:12, 13). 594

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However, John tells the churches that their deeds are already known. For John’s readers, judgment is already taking place, but this threat is designed to encourage some communities to continue in their faithfulness, while warning others to amend their ways. In that way, John uses two different approaches to identity maintenance simultaneously (Haslam). All but two of the letters (Sardis and Laodicea) are generally positive. The churches are commended for their endurance of suffering, and warned that there is more to come. Yet even in these communities, including Pergamum which produced the martyr Antipas (2:13), John notes Jesus has a few things against them (2:4, 14, 20), and by doing this relies on what SIT refers to as the “black sheep effect,” in which the influencer reacts negatively toward a member whose actions threaten the group’s identity (Marques and Páez). Highlighting their deviance is designed to reinforce the group’s identity by contrasting it with the otherwise expected norm. Specific complaints include abandoning their first love (2:4); tolerating the teaching of “Balaam” (2:14), the Nicolaitans (2:15; cf. 2:6), and the prophetess “Jezebel” (2:20), the latter a particularly striking example of the “black sheep effect.” In each case, a call is made to repent (2:5, 16; 3:3, 19), otherwise there will be consequences: Jesus will remove their lampstand (2:5) and come to them quickly (2:16), like a thief (3:3). The church in Laodicea is particularly criticized. The community is “lukewarm” (3:16), wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked, but unable to recognize their own poor spiritual state (3:17). As a result, they are in danger of being vomited out by the risen Christ (3:16). Yet, such chastisement takes place as part of a covenanted relationship. The Laodiceans, but by extension all the churches, are told, “Those whom I love I reprove and discipline” (3:19; cf. Prov 3:11–12). Therefore, the judgment threatened by Christ on the churches is unlike the final judgment against those outside; the threat is designed to effect a change in behavior, and to form a future possible social identity (Cinnirella). Each letter ends with an exhortation to conquer along with a reward the conquerors will receive, which anticipates much of the rewards in the heavenly city (Revelation 21–22), although many are specifically reserved for martyrs. As Christ conquered through suffering and martyrdom, so too will his followers. One final issue of note in the seven oracles is John’s relationship with other prophetic voices. The churches in Ephesus, Pergamum, and Thyatira contain factions of whose teaching or practices John disapproves. Although the Ephesians are criticized for not continuing in their former good works, they are praised for hating the Nicolaitans who Jesus also appears to hate (2:6). The Nicolaitans also appear in Pergamum, but unlike Ephesus, some of this community seem to belong to this group (2:15) along with others who “hold to the teaching of Balaam” (2:14). Similarly, the prophetess Jezebel and her followers are a further target of John’s anger (2:20). There is no reason to suppose these figures or groups are anything other than believers within the diversity of early Christianity. “Balaam” and “Jezebel” are certainly sobriquets, and the immortality of which they are accused is probably used metaphorically rather than a specific charge of sexual licentiousness, though some group norm violation is being marked. The more concrete accusation of eating food sacrificed to idols (2:14, 20) is also a controversy in Corinth (1 Cor 8, 10), and early Christian opinion appears to have continued to be divided on the matter (cf. 1 Tim 4:3). Nonetheless, these rival prophetic groups are threatened with severe judgment. Christ will make war on them (2:16), and strike Jezebel’s children (i.e., her followers) dead, while she will be thrown into torment, not unlike the fate that awaits outsiders (2:21–23). John sees himself as the sole human mediator of divine revelation, and thus his language is a central component in forming the recipient’s social identity. He calls for clarity along the 595

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borders between the Christian church and Roman culture; there was no place in the Christian community for idolmeat or alternative leaders, as social entrepreneurs who threatened its borders. John threatens churches tempted to accommodate groups with the imminent return of Christ. Although each church has an individual missive, they are to be understood collectively. Taken together, the letters provide cognitive frameworks of group identification and self-categorizations modeling faithful and faithless behavior, so that “all the churches will know I am he (egō eimi) who searches mind and heart and I will give to each of you as your works deserve” (2:23; cf. Jer 17:10). Time is short, and so those churches which are commended are urged to continue their good works until that time (Rev 2:10, 26; 3:4, 11), while for others, the coming of Jesus, which dominates the whole Apocalypse (1:7; 2:5, 16; 3:11; 16:15; 22:7, 12, 20; cf. 6:17; 11:18; 14:7, 15; 18:10), will bring judgment upon them. Thus, this section signals intergroup comparison will drive John’s rhetoric throughout the rest of the Apocalypse.

God and the Lamb (4:1–5:14) At the beginning of ch. 4 the location of the Apocalypse switches from earth to heaven. John was on Patmos when he received his vision, and was instructed to write to churches in seven specific locations in Asia Minor. While John uses metaphor and some mythological language in his missives to the churches, these letters construct either the situation Christians found themselves in or at least their situation as perceived by John. The seer, as he will throughout the Apocalypse, draws a sharp ingroup-outgroup boundary between the church and Rome, even excising Christians with whom he has doctrinal or practical disagreement from the arena of the Christian community, casting them into the world on which God’s judgments will come. Those who have maintained appropriate separation are experiencing or have experienced persecution and suffering, while those who appropriately amend their ways in response to Revelation will soon share in that tribulation. While his churches might appear vulnerable against Rome’s might, when John is summoned to heaven, he sees the true powers behind the cosmos: God and his Lamb. This functions to transform the evaluative aspect of their group membership—their estimation of Rome’s power is deficient. (4:1–11) God’s Throne Room Revelation 4:1 signals a transition in the Apocalypse from John’s narration of the letters and his transportation to heaven to see “what must take place after this” (4:1; cf. 1:2). As is common in the Apocalypse, John both sees and hears something (cf. 1:11, 12; 7:3, 8); he sees an open door in heaven, and hears a voice, which he identifies as “the first voice” he had heard “speaking like a trumpet” which was identified as Christ. John does not identify a change in voice in the first three chapters, so his reference to “the first voice” may provide continuity, or it may be evidence of the redaction of multiple sources (Aune, 1:282). In any case, the visions of 4–22 in the final form of the text are fastened securely to the preceding letters, and reinforce the message of warning given to the seven churches. John is called up to heaven through an open door—an image that appeared in the final two letters (3:8, 20)—which recalls the apocalyptic ascent tradition (cf. 2 Corinthians 12). John once again states he is “in the spirit” (cf. 1:9), and then sees God’s throne room. God is seated on the throne surround by twenty-four elders also on thrones (4:4), seven torches of fire, which are the seven spirits of God (4:5), and four “living creatures” (4:6b–7). The scene is reminiscent of the theophany of Isaiah 6; the creatures have six wings and sing “Holy, holy, holy 596

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is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come” (4:8; cf. Isa 6:3). When the creatures sing, the elders fall to the ground and worship (4:10), singing, “Worthy are you, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you did create all things, and by your will they existed and were created” (4:11). John implicitly contrasts or socially categorizes the apparent might of Rome with the true power of God. The one who sits on the throne in heaven is the creator of all things, and as such is worthy of worship, the result produces maximal distinctiveness between the ingroup and the outgroup. (5:1–13) Christophany II: The Lamb The throne room scene introduces to the reader the heavenly cast, and the lens through which events should be viewed; it is God not the emperor who sits on the throne of power. John reintroduces Christ, this time in the form of a Lamb. The Lamb is John’s dominant image for Christ in the Apocalypse, appearing twenty-eight times, and is, therefore, a central feature of John’s Christology. That the Lamb is slain has caused many commentators to interpret this image as predominantly one of suffering love that emphasizes the willing sacrificial self-giving death of Jesus (Bredin, 181–99). Christians, they argue, are called to emulate this nonviolent witness through their acceptance of suffering and martyrdom. However, while it is certainly true that John calls his readers to follow the Lamb to suffering and death, many readings of the Lamb have simply refracted the Lamb’s more violent actions through the characteristic of slain-ness. This is to profoundly underplay the full extent of John’s Christology. The Lamb unleashes apocalyptic judgment on the earth (6:12–17), supervises the torture of the wicked (14:10), and crushes the armies of the earth (17:14). From a social identity perspective, this Christological formulation serves as a warning to the ingroup to keep the boundaries intact; porous group boundaries to not exist in John’s literary world. (5:1–5) The Scroll The Lamb is absent from ch. 4, yet John’s description of God recalls qualities already attributed to Jesus: he lives forever (1:18; 4:9); he has the seven spirits of God (3:1; 4:5); and while he has his own throne, he also shares his Father’s throne (3:21). Therefore, although the Lamb is absent, his presence is already expected. The absence of the Lamb is felt even more keenly in the first half of ch. 5 as John creates a dramatic void only the Lamb can fill. The one seated on the throne holds a scroll sealed with seven seals, and it becomes clear that the scroll must be opened for judgment to commence. The action follows the pattern of a divine or royal commissioning, such as Isa 6:1–11 or 1 Kgs 22:19–23. However, whereas in these scenes someone steps forward to accept the commission (e.g., Isa 6:8), when the strong angel asks, “Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?” (Rev 5:2), there is no one “in heaven or on earth or under the earth” who “was found worthy to open the scroll” (5:3). The significance of this void should not be understated. For John, there is no one in the cosmos, not the strongest emperor or even the most powerful angel, who is “worthy,” which, of course, was a significant attribute of God (4:11). The news causes John to weep (5:4) as without the scroll being opened, there can be no judgment, and therefore no vindication of God’s people. However, one of the elders offers words of encouragement to the seer, telling him not to weep, for there is one who is worthy to open the scroll (5:5). John has created a literary climax through the dramatic way in which he presents the scroll. It clearly needs to be opened, but despite an exhaustive search, no one on heaven and earth could be found to open it. This distinguishes the eventual hero who will open the scroll from

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the rest of creation in both status and “type.” The Lamb is not a creature among creatures. The elder tells John that “the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has conquered” (5:5), and through this act of conquering, he is able to open the scroll and its seals. This centers the Lion as the focal point from which key defining features for their distinctive ingroup identity emerges. SIT highlights the idea that people join groups to reduce uncertainty; the Lion as the ingroup prototype provides cognitive and behavioral resources that increase certainty in the face of temptations to be unfaithful or to fall away. The two pictures of conquering lion of the tribe of Judah (cf. Gen 49:8–10; 1QSb 5.27–29) and root of David (5:5) are stock images of Jewish messianic expectation. The lion is an image suggestive of royal strength, and in the Hebrew Bible is associated with kings (e.g., 1 Kgs 10:19– 20; 2 Chr 9:18–19; Prov 19:12; 20:2; Jer 2:15, 30; Ezek 32:2), warriors (2 Sam 1:23; 17:10; 1 Macc 3:4), Israel (Num 23:24; 24:9), nobility (Prov 28:1; 30:30), and power (e.g., Pss 7:2; 10:9; 17:12; Prov 22:13; 26:13). Similarly, the root of David is messianic (cf. Isa 11:1, 10), and there is ample evidence that contemporaneous Jews expected a Davidic Messiah (e.g., 2 Sam 7:5–16; Isa 9:2–7; Hos 3:5; Amos 9:11; Mic 4:13–5:5). The “branch” itself became a messianic title (Zech 3:8; 6:12), growing out of the expectation God would “raise up for David a righteous branch” (Jer 23:5; 33:15) in the last days (4QFlor). These two images come together in 4 Ezra, written roughly at the same time as Revelation, in which the Messiah is depicted as a lion which comes from the “posterity of David” (12:32) and vanquishes an eagle (11:36–46). Therefore, the elder in the Apocalypse sets up the reader, and John, to expect to see the seals opened by the warring and conquering Messiah of Jewish eschatological expectation. However, this description is fulfilled in the Apocalypse by a slain lamb. The intragroup dissonance this creates might be thought to reduce ingroup identification, but through the processes of depersonalization, it helps to transform the “I” into a “we.” The thought processes of the ingroup, the followers of the Lamb, are in need of transformation in regard to their messianic expectations. (5:6) The Appearance of the Lamb After the elder’s description of the Messiah who has conquered, John sees in the middle of the throne room scene, “a Lamb (arnion) standing as though it had been slain” (5:6). The apparent discontinuity between what John heard (a powerful messianic warrior) and what he sees (a slain Lamb) has perplexed commentators. Many readers see in the Lamb imagery a commitment to nonviolent resistance, so that the Lamb is designed to deliberately confront the militaristic apocalyptic expectations of Jewish messianism (Bredin). Christ, through his death, has conquered, and so “the lamb does not coexist with the lion in some ongoing peaceful juxtaposition. Rather, the lamb replaces the lion as a symbol of the nature of Christ’s victory despite his murder” (Johns, 195; cf. Moyise, 181–94). To be sure, there is a wealth of Hebrew Bible imagery that emphasizes the sacrificial purpose of lambs, and it is almost certainly the case that John is drawing upon this tradition (Exod 29:38– 41; Num 28:1–8). There may also be specific reference to the Paschal Lamb (Exod 12:1–13), the Aqeda (Genesis 22), or the silent lamb of Isaiah 53, each of which promotes the redemptive death of a sacrificial, nonviolent victim (see Johns, 207–15). Even if John is not explicitly drawing on any of these specific traditions, it is unlikely he creates the Lamb imagery de novo. Christians had already applied sacrificial tropes to Christ’s death (cf. 1 Cor 5:7; 6:20; 7:23), and John has already affirmed that Christ’s blood was redemptive (Rev 1:5–6). So when confronted with the 598

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image of a slain lamb in Rev 5:6, Christian readers would instantly recognize the crucified Christ, and recall the effects of his effective death in freeing God’s people from their sins (1:5; 5:9). However, John’s conquering Lamb, as well as being slain, carries on its body symbols of power; it has seven horns—a familiar metaphor for power (e.g., Deut 33:17; 1 Sam 2:10; Pss 75:4; 148:14; Zech 1:18; Dan 7:7–8; 8:20), and military might (e.g., Pss 75:4, 10; Jer 48:25; Lam 2:17; Dan 7:23–27)—and seven eyes, perhaps representing divine omniscience (e.g., 2 Chr 16:9; Pss 34:15; 139:16). In any case, John deliberately links his image of the Lamb with the power of both God and his first Christophany; he has seven eyes, which he says are the spirits of God, and have already been represented by the lampstands that stood before an image of the exalted Christ (1:12) and the one seated on the throne (4:5). There is a possible antecedent of a warlike messianic lamb in the Testament of Joseph: “And I saw that a virgin was born from Judah, wearing a linen stole; and from her was a spotless lamb. At his left there was something like a lion, and all the wild animals rushed against him, but the lamb conquered them, and destroyed them, trampling them underfoot” (19:8). There is, however, clear evidence of Christian editing of the text. Nonetheless, an Aramaic version does not contain the same signs of Christian editing, yet still contains a conquering lamb. Furthermore, both David and Judas Maccabeus are likened to lambs in the Animal Apocalypse (=1 Enoch 85–90), the latter becoming a “horned lamb” who slew the other beasts of the field (1 En. 90.6–19). John’s Lamb is, therefore, not simply slain. He has symbols of power—horns and eyes— but he also does what slain lambs do not normally do; he is standing. Those who see a sharp distinction between the images of lion and lamb usually fail to take account of the full range of images associated with the lamb. It is unlikely that John is making fresh Christological claims in his presentation of Christ as Lamb. John’s readers would no doubt have been aware of the crucifixion and resurrection, and so a conquering slain figure would not have been a particularly difficult concept for them. Revelation does not recount the death, resurrection, and glorification of Jesus; they are presupposed. Therefore, when the full extent of John’s Lamb image of Revelation 5 is taken into account, there is no contrast between the Lamb and the Lion. It is as a slain-but-standing Lamb representing Christ, who has fulfilled his conquering messianic role through his death and resurrection. This repositions Christ as the shared ingroup prototype to which they are to assimilate themselves cognitively and behaviorally, especially in relation to a relevant outgroup, namely the followers of the Beast which will become clear in 13:3. Finally, as the Lamb is by far the most common representation of Christ, this tableau cannot be seen in isolation. Elsewhere in the Apocalypse, the Lamb is the agent of judgment; he supervises the torture of the wicked, and leads an army. While Rev 5:6 might be the first appearance of the Lamb, it is the second of John’s three principal Christophanies. In the other two, despite apparently more powerful manifestations of glory, Christ’s death is equally stressed (Middleton, Violence, 97–131). The Son of Man/Ancient of Days figure was dead but is now alive, while the robe of the rider on the white horse (Rev 19:11–16) has been dipped in blood. Therefore, in the Apocalypse, Christ’s death is not a “problem” to be solved; it is, along with his resurrection and glorification, the means by which he conquers. John’s readers, therefore, should not fear death, for it too is the means by which they, by following the Lamb (cf. Rev 14:4), will also conquer (cf. 2:7, 11, 17, 26; 3:5, 12, 21; 21:7). This future possible social identity informs their current selfcategorizations—or should from John’s perspective. There is no other option. 599

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(5:7–13) The Lamb Takes the Scroll As was anticipated in Rev 5:5, the Lamb then takes the scroll from God. Importantly, for John, Christ’s death and resurrection have enabled him to take the scroll which will propel the action forward. Although the scroll has writing on both sides, its contents (and thus its identification) are less important than the action of breaking open its seals, which ushers in apocalyptic judgment. Therefore, when the Lamb takes the scroll heaven rejoices. John expects his readers to understand that their social identity in the midst of a hostile empire should be viewed through the lens of this conquering Lamb, which in turn provides new normative perceptions in regard to the outgroup. As the Lamb was uniquely worthy to open the scroll, so the praise of the elders and four living creatures mirrors the praise they offered to God in the previous chapter. They proclaim that Christ is worthy to open the scroll because of his death, by which people were ransomed and made priests to God (5:9–10). This acclamation links the Lamb firmly to the opening Christophany, in which similar claims were made (1:5–6). After this, the multitude of heaven join in praising the Lamb, ascribing to him qualities recognized in their worship of God in 4:11: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain to receive power, wealth, wisdom, might, honor, glory, and blessing” (5:12). To this song of heaven, the cosmos—every creature in heaven, earth, and sea who could not open the scroll—praises both God and the Lamb (5:13). In John’s theological world of exalted Christology, God and Christ stand apart from creation.

The Seven Seals (6:1–7:17) (6:1–17) Judgment on the Earth Despite the whole cosmos joining in praise of God and the Lamb in Rev 5:13, this was a declaration of Christ’s universal rule rather than any expectation John had for universal salvation (contra Bauckham, 238–337). When the Lamb opens the seals, the first cycle of judgments on the world commences. The judgment sequences in Revelation generally follow a 4 + 3 pattern, with the first four narrated more quickly than the remainder. Since the judgments associated with the trumpets and bowls, which are themselves contained within the seventh seal, destroy parts of the universe already destroyed by the first cycle of judgments, the destruction should be taken as representative of a single event at the end of time, rather than separate sequences of judgments. (6:1–8) The First Four Seals The opening of the first four seals follow the same pattern: one of the living creatures says “Come” (6:1, 3, 5, 7), and a horse and rider appear—the proverbial four horsemen of the Apocalypse (cf. Zech 6:1–8). Only the last rider is explicitly identified; Death with Hades following behind (6:8). While Death and Hades are elsewhere enemies of God which are forced to give up their death (cf. 20:13–14; 21:4; cf. 1:18), here they execute divine judgment. The first rider has sometimes been identified as Christ, since he rides a white horse as in Revelation 19, but this is unlikely, as is the view that the activity of the horsemen represents human violence and destruction (Koester, 394). As each activity begins in heaven with the opening of a seal, and responds to a command of a living creature, the destruction they bring is best understood as having divine origin. Even where humans slay one another, it is because the rider has been permitted (by God) to take peace from the earth (6:4). (6:9–11) The Fifth Seal While the first four and sixth seals result in judgment on the earth’s people, the fifth seal breaks the sequence. When it is opened, John sees “under the altar the souls 600

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of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the witness they had given” (6:9). John interjects a scene depicting the vindication of faithful amid the terrible judgment that will befall the wicked, reminding his readers of the stark choice they face. While John has named only one martyr (2:13), he warned his readers that faithfulness will result in suffering, persecution, and death. John here presents the first of many visions of the martyrs in order to explicitly contrast the respective fate of the ingroup, that is, the Lamb followers, and the outgroup, that is, the Beast worshippers. The martyrs have been killed for their witness (marturia), and although marturia is normally qualified as witness to Jesus in the Apocalypse (1:2, 9; 12:17; 19:10; 20:4), it is left unspecified here. This has led some readers to interpret these martyrs as pre-Christian (e.g., Beale, 390). However, a similar construction is used in Rev 12:11, which clearly refers to Christian martyrs. Others identify them as those killed under Nero because they imagine these martyrs must already have been killed by the time Revelation is being read (Aune, 2:406). However, as we will see, these martyrs are created before judgment begins, that is, before the opening of the first four seals, which takes place in the future; time is not linear in the Apocalypse. That the martyrs are under the altar hints at a sacrificial interpretation of martyrdom. In the Hebrew cult, blood was placed at the base of the altar to atone for sins (Lev 4:7; cf. Lev 17:11). In later Christian reflection martyrs were indeed thought to be able to atone for their own sins (e.g., Tertullian, Apologia 50; De Anima 55; Origen, Exhortatio 30), and could forgive or at least intercede for the sins of others (cf. Cyprian, De Lapsis). The idea that martyrs enjoyed a special place in heaven was fueled, at least in part, by Rev 6:9–11. The martyrs cry to God, impatient with the delay in his judging and avenging their blood (cf. Gen 4:10; 2 Macc 8:3; 4 Ezra 15.8) on the earth-dwellers. The martyrs’ question, therefore, draws an explicit link between the judgments currently unfolding in the Apocalypse and vengeance on the world for spilling their blood (cf. Rev 16:5–6). For John, the respective fate of martyrs and earth-dwellers are inextricably linked. Throughout Revelation, he explicitly contrasts the faithful with the damned in order to reinforce the group’s symbolic boundary between the empire and the Christian community. Christians he depicts as martyrs; earth-dwellers as the objects of divine wrath. The end result of this is to reduce uncertainty for those who remain within the ingroup. While the response to the martyrs’ demand for justice seems anti-climactic, it reinforces the central message of the Apocalypse. The souls are given a white robe—the symbol of martyrdom and victory in Revelation—and told to “rest a little longer until the number of their fellow servants and their brothers should be complete, who were to be killed as they themselves had been” (Rev 6:11). Although the martyrs must wait, the period of waiting is limited until a predetermined number of further martyrs has been fulfilled. That John says the period is short indicates he expects his readers to face martyrdom in the near future. Moreover, this indicates that further martyrs are required before judgment can commence. John blurs the distinction between the martyrs in heaven and believers on earth by calling them “fellow servants,” indicating the believers will share their fate. However, by allowing those who read Revelation to overhear the conditions that must be fulfilled before the martyrs will be avenged, John issues an evangelical call for his hearers to undergo martyrdom in order to bring about God’s judgment on the world. The apocalyptic timetable depends on them. If Christians felt like a small beleaguered and pressured community within the Roman Empire, John insists that the future of the cosmos turns on their actions. SIT highlights the idea that another reason people join groups is the selfesteem hypothesis, something similar seems to be in view here among these “fellow servants.” 601

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The intergroup discrimination is clear in John’s call here; he provides the ingroup with social status and superiority, a specific collective state, in regard to problematic outgroup from John’s perspective. The idea of a preset number is found in a number of contemporaneous texts (cf. 1 En. 47.1–4; 4 Ezra 4.35–37; 2 Bar. 23.4b–5a; see Bauckham, 48–56), although none match Revelation precisely. John draws on the common apocalyptic numerous iustorum tradition, which is also found in other Christian sources (1 Clem. 2.4; 58.2; 59.2; Mart. Poly. 14.2; Mart. Lyons 1.13, 26, 48; cf. Rom 11:25). However, this interpretation is resisted on the grounds that the word “number” (arithmos), found in many English translations, is missing from the text (Blount, 136; Koester, 410). However, if not the full complement, it would not at all be obvious what it is that potential martyrs are being called to complete. The vision of the martyrs is inserted at this point to contrast the respective fates of both Christians and the damned, but also to stress to John’s readers that in order for judgment to be effected, they need to take action and seek martyrdom through faithful witness. (6:12–17) The Sixth Seal: The Day of the Lord Having focused on the Christian community (6:9–11), with the opening of the sixth seal, John returns to judgment on the earth-dwellers, his literarily constructed outgroup. So far, judgment has taken place “off-stage”; the full destructive effect of divine wrath has not been described in any detail. The opening of the sixth seal triggers apocalyptic signs associated with the Day of the Lord tradition of the Hebrew Bible (cf. Isa 13:9–10; 24:21, 23; Ezek 32:7–89; Joel 2:1–32; Amos 8:9); there is a great earthquake, the sun is darkened, the moon is like blood, the starts fall from the sky, which vanishes like a scroll, while mountains and islands are removed from their place (Rev 6:12–15; cf. Mark 13:24–26). Elsewhere in the Apocalypse the stars which fall from the sky represent malevolent beings (Rev 8:10; 9:1; 12:4), but here, given the rest of the heavenly disturbance, it is more likely John literally means the stars. As there is more narrative to follow, commentators tend not to see this tableau as representing final judgment (e.g., Smalley, 168), but this is to read the Apocalypse in an overly linear way. In any case, understood like this, it is not clear how a third of the stars could then fall in Rev 8:2 if they have already fallen here. Instead, this is the first of John’s representations of final judgment, in which the identity-based divide between John’s readers and those outside will be made manifest. The day is described as the great day of the wrath of God and the Lamb (6:17). While wrath is an attribute of God in the Hebrew Bible, in Christian tradition, Christ largely takes over the role of judge from God (e.g., Matt 25:31–46; John 5:22, 27; Acts 10:42; 17:31; Rom 2:16; 2 Cor 5:10). While some readers struggle with the notion of the wrath of the Lamb, even calling it “a contradiction in terms” (Smalley, 171), this is not a difficulty shared by John since it functions as a warning to keep the group’s boundaries intact. All people on earth, aside from the saved, are subjected to violent judgment. John’s list of the types of earth-dwellers, kings, great men, commanders, rich, strong, slave, and free (6:15), represents the totality of humanity. From emperor to slave, there will be no hiding place from the Lamb. They pitifully call on the mountains to fall on them in a vain attempt to escape judgment, preferring to be crushed by rocks than face the wrath of God and the Lamb. Faced with the destructive power of God and the Lamb when they finally act to avenge the martyrs under the altar, the earth-dwellers will cry out “Who can stand?” (6:17). John then answers that question in the next chapter: the martyrs. 602

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(7:1–17) The Vindication of God’s People After the vision of judgment, John then sees two crowds of Christians. First 144,000 made up of 12,000 from each of the 12 tribes of Israel (7:4– 8), and then an innumerable number from all the nations on earth clothed in white and holding palm branches (7:9–12). The identity of these groups divides opinion. The reading offered here is that both groups, and indeed the 144,000 in Rev 14:1–5, represent the same group of Christian martyrs, but described in different ways (multiple social identities are not salient in John’s literary world). This vision, which importantly is still contained within the sixth seal, begins with an angel telling four other angels not to harm the earth until God’s servants are sealed; that is, in terms of narrative time, ch. 7 precedes the Lamb’s Day of Wrath (6:12–17). While the 144,000 is sometimes taken to be Jewish (Bauckham, 127), that they are designated God’s servants, and mirror the dimensions of the heavenly Jerusalem (21:16) count against this view. The equal size of the tribes (cf. Num 1:20–43) suggests completeness, and likely represents the full number of martyrs envisaged in response to the souls under the altar (6:11). The scene is suggestive of a role call in preparation for battle (Bauckham, 210–37); the martyr church, a potential superordinate quasi-group label, is at full strength, and so judgment can commence. While the multitude appear to constitute a second group, it would be unthinkable that John could imagine Christians who would not be sealed (contra Blount, 176). In ch. 13, the Beast will seal his followers, and all who are left without the mark of the Beast will be slain. In John’s dualistic cosmos, humanity is either sealed by the Lamb or marked by the Beast (the intergroup binary logic drives the literary world he creates). The result for those sealed by the Lamb is to be slain by the Beast, and the great crowd of Revelation 7 have “come out of the great tribulation and washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (7:14). This tribulation is the standard expectation of suffering before the End embedded in Christian tradition (cf. Matt 24//Mark 13//Luke 21), in which there is an emphasis on persecution (Mark 13:9–13//Matt 10:17–21; cf. Matt 24:9). John has already indicated that faithfulness will result in tribulation (thlispis; 1:9), and warns his readers to expect further experiences (e.g., Rev 2:9–10). All faithful Christians, not just a limited number, were promised that they would be kept from the “hour of trial that is coming on the whole world to test the inhabitants of the earth” (Rev 3:10), and so, like the 144,000 in both 7:4–8 and 14:1–5, they are redeemed from the earth before the terrors of judgment begin. In contrast to the inhabitants of the earth who attempt to hide from the Lamb, the martyrs stand before the throne and the Lamb. The Lamb, as the ingroup prototype, will be their shepherd (7:17; cf. 14:4), and will shelter them. This picture of the martyrs takes the reader back to the throne room of God, in which the martyrs under the altar were also dressed in white (6:9–11; cf. Dan 11:33–35), and where the Lamb was first encountered. In the same way as John heard that the conqueror was the lion of the tribe of Judah and then saw a slain Lamb, so in ch. 7, John hears that crowds from the twelve tribes will be sealed, but then sees an army who has been martyred. Just as the Lion is the Lamb, so the sealed army of 144,000 is also the multitude of martyrs who follow the Lamb’s example of conquering through martyrdom. After this, the seventh seal is opened, and there is silence before the next cycle of judgments signaled by seven trumpets. John’s social categorization has introduced the two sides of the conflict. He has set before his church a demand to be faithful, and began to spell out the consequences of faithless behavior. While his church might suffer, seen from the throne room of God, Rome’s armies are as nothing, and even the most powerful will cower in fear of the 603

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Lamb. The fate of the faithful is contrasted with that of the damned, reinforcing the maximal distinctiveness demanded between the two groups. The rest of the Apocalypse will reinforce this cycle twice more, each time hammering home John’s call for the faithful to stand with the Lamb, and resist any temptation to follow after the Beast.

The Second Ring (8:1–14:20) The Seventh Seal and the Seven Trumpets (8:1–11:19) After John’s first presentation of the Day of Judgment, the seer begins another cycle to reinforce his identity-forming message. This time the judgments are signaled by a septet of trumpets. In ch. 7 the faithful were sealed, and the effect of that seal now becomes apparent, as like the Israelites in Egypt with the Angel of Death, Christians are exempt from the plagues that will be visited upon the peoples of the earth (7:15–16; 9:4). (8:1—9:21) The First Six Trumpets: Judgment on the Earth After the half hour silence (8:1), which may represent primordial silence or time for the saints’ prayers to be heard (Bauckham, 70–83), John sees the seven angels which stand before God (8:2). These may be the same seven mentioned in Rev 1:16, 20, or reference to the seven archangels of Jewish tradition (cf. Tob. 12.5; 1 En. 20.1–7; Jub. 1.27, 29; 2.1–2). Each one is given a trumpet; the divine passive reminding the reader God and the Lamb are responsible for the judgment that will befall the world. Before the trumpets are sounded, an angel comes to the altar and mixes incense in a censer with the prayers of the saints (8:3). That this takes place on the altar before God’s throne strongly suggests the prayers are those of the saints who longed for justice against the earth-dwellers (6:9–11). When the censer is thrown on the earth, there is thunder, lightning, and an earthquake (8:5). John makes clear that the prayers of the saints will be answered, and their martyrdom will be avenged. The trumpets, which are both signs of warfare (Josh 6:5; 1 Macc 3.54; cf. 1QM 7.14) and apocalyptic judgment (Joel 2:1; Zeph 1:14–16; 9:3–4; 4 Ezra 6.23; Matt 24:31; 1 Cor 15:52; 1 Thess 4:16), are then blown. The first four trumpets sound in rapid narrative succession with devastating consequences (8:7–12), reminiscent of the plagues on Egypt (Aune, 2:499–506; Koester, 445–57). The first causes hail and fire mixed with blood to fall and burn a third of the earth and all the grass. A burning mountain is thrown into the sea at the sound of the second, turning a third of it to blood, killing a third of the sea creatures (8:8–9), while rivers and fountains are turned to wormwood when a star falls to earth when the third trumpet is blown. Next, a third of the sun, moon, and stars is struck (8:12). There is a momentary interlude after the fourth trumpet as an eagle announces woes on the inhabitants of the earth, signaling the greater destructive power of the final three trumpets (8:13). The narrative pace slows for the second set of trumpets as the narrator lingers over the destructive suffering they bring. While the first four trumpets mainly affected the earth and brought only limited human causalities, with the fifth trumpet a celestial being like a star falls from heaven and is given the key to the abyss (9:1). It is possible this is a reference to the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 CE (Aune, 2:509; Blount, 160), but it is equally if not more likely the fiery mountain is a miraculous apocalyptic sign like the others (Koester, 449). In any case, when the

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angel opens the abyss the consequences for humankind are devastating. Smoke pours out and darkens the sky (9:2). Mutant locusts emerge from the smoke with stings like scorpions that torture humanity for five months. So dreadful is this torture that “in those days people will seek death and will not find it” (9:6). In Greco-Roman tradition, suicide was a legitimate option for a noble death to escape intolerable suffering, but even this option is removed from the earthdwellers. The only humans to escape the torture are those sealed by God (9:4). The locusts are ruled by Apollyon or Destroyer which has led several commentators to see this torturing as coming from a demonic source. However, not only are darkening of the sun and locusts associated with the Day of the Lord (Joel 2:1–15; cf. Exod 10:4–15), the divine passive deployed in handing the key over to the angel, combined with the recapitulation of the scene in which Christ possesses the keys to Hades, signals decisively that this suffering is divinely inflicted. In this scene John hammers home the pathetic fate of the inhabitants of the earth. Those who may be persecuting, harassing, or even martyring Christians will end up squealing for death, while the people of God watch on. Once again, John clearly advises his readers that persecution is better than the fate that awaits the persecutors. Ominously for the earth-dwellers, John notes that although the first woe has passed, two more are still to come (9:12). The sixth trumpet leads to the attack of yet more mutant animals, this time riders on horses with lions heads and tails like serpents (9:19). The riders come from the Euphrates and form a massive cavalry, drawing on the insecurity Rome felt at the border with the Parthians. They slay a third of earth with fire, smoke, and sulfur that comes from the horses’ lion-like mouths (9:17–18). Suddenly, with the blast of these last two trumpets, John has raised the stakes. With the exception of a small number of sealed Christians, all humanity has been tortured to the point of wishing death for five months, and a third of the planet has been slain. Furthermore, the sun, moon, and stars have been struck with the sounding of the other trumpets, the water has been polluted, and burning mountains and stars have fallen from the sky. Yet, despite this apocalyptic carnage, John says that the rest of humankind, the survivors, failed to repent from their idolatry and wickedness (9:20–21). This lack of repentance is striking. However, John appears unconcerned about the repentance of those outside the church; repentance is an internal matter, and John’s aim is to bring his communities back to appropriate faithfulness, the goal of his identity-forming work. While the lack of repentance is probably shaped by the plague tradition in which God hardened Pharaoh’s heart (Exod 7:22–23; 8:15, 19, 32; 9:7, 12, 34–35; 10:20, 27, 46), it is worth noting that the wicked in Revelation are characters created and controlled by John; their intransigence in the face of suffering is down to the seer. (10:1–11:19) Vindication of God’s people (10:1–11) The Little Scroll The visions following the sixth seal included a depiction of the destructive power of the Day of the Lord (6:12–17) together with a picture of the vindication of the faithful martyrs (7:1–17). Similarly, between the sixth and seventh trumpets, John contrasts his two categories of humanity. Having described the violent judgment, torture, and death of those outside the church, who despite being subjected to God’s wrath refused to repent (9:20–21), John now turns to the vindication of God’s people. John sees “another strong angel” come down from heaven and stand on both sea and land (10:1–2). There are some parallels with the earlier presentations of Christ; his face is like the sun, and his legs like pillars of fire, he calls out like a lion, and his voice causes the seven thunders 605

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to sound. Moreover, as the Lamb was given the scroll in ch. 5, the angel holds a scroll. However, John simply calls the figure another angel, so it is unlikely he intends this angel to be seen as Christ. When the seven thunders sound, John begins to write down the message contained therein, but is told not to write, but instead seal up the message (10:4; cf. Dan 8:16; 12:4, 9). The mighty angel holds his hand to heaven and swears a solemn oath that there should be no more delay, and that the seventh trumpet will fulfill “the mystery of God” (10:7). While the angel here appears to answer the impatient question of the souls under the altar (6:10), and fits with a central conviction of Revelation that the end is coming soon, some, noting the narrative delay suggest alternatively that the angel is merely saying that the time of waiting will soon be over (Koester, 480). However, as we have already noted, narrative time in the Apocalypse is not uncomplicated. For John, the vindication of God’s servants is imminent. John is then commanded by a voice from heaven to take and eat the scroll. Two issues unnecessarily distract commentators here. While a common interpretation, there is no reason to suppose the scrolls of chs 5 and 10 are one and the same (Koester, 476; Bauckham, 243–57). The functions of the scrolls are more important than their content, and it is far from clear that John intends either or both scrolls to represent part or all of the Apocalypse. Second, the identity of the “voice” is not revealed, which is not uncommon in the Apocalypse (12:10; 14:13; 16:1; 18:4–8; 19:5). While there is sometimes evidence to suggest at least on one occasion to identity the voice as God’s (18:4–8), here it is not clear. In any case, the voice clearly speaks with divine approval. When John eats the scroll he finds it sweet to the taste, but is sour in his stomach (10:9–10). This action mirrors that of the prophet Ezekiel, who similarly ate a scroll (2:9–10; 3:1–3), although his was only sweet as honey. Some interpret the sour taste as representing the suffering that has to be undergone by the saints before they enjoy the sweetness of heaven (Koester, 483). However, more likely, the scroll in some way contains the negative judgment on the nations against whom John is immediately told to prophesy (10:11). This in turn strengthens the ingroup; that is, the identity function of those receiving this judgment is a warning for the ingroup if they were to become worshippers of the Beast. (11:1–14) The Two Witnesses After John is told to prophesy against the nations, he gives an account of two witnesses who do precisely that, in what functions as a parable of faithfulness. The two witnesses are slain, but then resurrected, which results in judgment on the world. They represent the role all God’s people play in the Apocalypse. Before this, John is given a measuring rod and told to measure the temple, the altar, and those who worship there (11:1). Some commentators take this instruction as evidence that the temple is still standing, but for John the true temple is in heaven, and in any case that the Gentiles are to trample on its courts for forty-two months suggests the author is aware of its destruction (11:2). Some objection that this is a reference to the Roman destruction of the temple could be raised on account of the siege lasting less than forty-two months. However, numbers are largely symbolic in the Apocalypse, and forty-two months is the time of the oppression of God’s people in Dan 7:25; 12:7. This is also the same period as the 1,260 days during which God’s two witnesses are given power to prophecy (11:3). The witnesses are dressed in sackcloth while they preach, representing both a call for repentance and the threat of judgment.

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Like the creatures unleashed earlier (9:1–19), the witnesses are able to kill their enemies with fire from their mouths (11:5; cf. Isa 11:4). Similarly, they also have the power to prevent rain, turn the waters to blood, and inflict the earth with other plagues (11:6), signaling that they share in dispensing divine judgment. The identity of the two witnesses is not clear. Some have associated them with Moses and Elijah, given the mention of shutting the sky (cf. 1 Kgs 17:1; 18:1) and turning rivers to blood (Exod 7:14–19), and the more general apocalyptic expectation that these two figures would return in the end times. However, the two are not distinguished in any way, and that the Beast makes war on them and kills them (13:7) departs from expectations of their role. They are described as two of the lampstands that stand before the Lord, an image from Zechariah 4, which earlier represented the church. Therefore, it is more likely the two who witness symbolize the church, either in part, since they are two of the seven lampstands, or more probable, the church as a whole, who are called to witness as Jesus did, and who are engaged in war with the Beast. Although they are killed, it is not until they have finished their testimony (11:7). Once again, John draws sharp social identity distinction between the church and the world. When they have been slain, their bodies lie in the street as the earth-dwellers celebrate over their corpses, refusing to allow them to be buried (11:8–10). The faithful witnesses are then vindicated. Despite being slain, like the Lamb in the throne room scene, they stand when God breathes life into them. This provokes fear among their enemies (11:12). They are called to heaven, and an earthquake kills a tenth of the city. The vindication of God’s people signals judgment on those who dwell on the earth. Interestingly, after the earthquake that killed 7,000 people, the rest, unlike earlier in the narrative, “were terrified and gave glory to the God of heaven” (11:13). John does not normally demonstrate any interest in the repentance of the nations, yet here there is apparent evidence John does not rule out the possibility. While terror may not be a sign of genuine repentance, it is not unknown in biblical tradition (Pss 11:10; Sir 1:11; cf. Luke 7:16). However, this is atypical in the Apocalypse, and this act of destructive judgment is unusually localized. There is certainly evidence of various sources behind this chapter, for example, the differing presentations of Jerusalem as Sodom (11:8) and the holy city (11:2). Moreover, the inhabitants of the earth will once again be described as uniformly evil as the narrative recommences (Rev 13; 16:9, 11). The story of the two witnesses brings the activity following the sixth trumpet to an end. John has described both the torments of the wicked and the vindication of the faithful who have suffered at the hands of the Beast and his followers. John encourages his readers to socially identify themselves with the witnesses and in opposition to the earth-dwellers. Immediately before the seventh trumpet sounds, John notes that the second of the three woes has passed (11:14), although he does not actually narrate the third. (11:15–19) The Seventh Trumpet: The Announcement of Christ’s Reign When the seventh angel sounds his trumpet, John is transported back to the throne room of God. Loud voices reaffirm the lordship of God and the Lamb, not only of heaven but also of earth: “The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Messiah” (11:15). This is not a change in circumstances (contra Blount, 220); readers of the Apocalypse recognize what is already true. While slightly opaque, the seventh trumpet signals final judgment. The cosmos is ruled by God and Christ, and while the nations may rage, all evil forces believed to rule the world (Matt 12:6; John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11; 2 Cor 4:4) will be overthrown along with their visible counterpart, 607

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Rome. John repeats his central message: the dead will be judged, God’s enemies—the destroyers of the earth—will be destroyed, and the saints will be rewarded (11:18). The aspects of identity John develops here provide the resources for the maintenance of the group’s boundaries as well as the further formation of a future social identity as the faithful ones who are vindicated. Cinnirella (235–36) refers to this as the formation of “life stories” that provide coherence for the group’s past, present, and future.

Revelation 12–14 War on the Church and the Vindication of the Martyrs For all the strange signs and visions in the Apocalypse, and the myriad of equally outlandish interpretations they have inspired, the message of Revelation is relatively straightforward. John’s world is not complex; it is divided into heroes and villains within a cosmos of good and evil. John insists that members of the Christian community, the ingroup, must be faithful witnesses to Jesus Christ, but that this will lead to persecution, suffering, and even martyrdom. These negative experiences, however, should be read through the lens of God’s throne room and the central figure of the Lamb, who as a faithful witness is the Christians’ prototype, the proto-martyr. He was slain, but now resurrected, sits on the throne executing violent judgment on the wicked. In contrast, the outgroup, the wicked, that is, everyone on the earth who is not in the church, and who are responsible for persecution, are dismissed as Beast worshippers. They will suffer eternal torment at the pleasure of the Lamb. John is not interested in the fate of these characters. His sole aim is to ensure that none of his readers slip from the path of following the Lamb by adopting the “lax practices” of Rome. The repetition of contrasting visions of saints in glory and sinners in pain at the end of time reinforces this view. Chapters 12–14 form a triptych of the “Apocalypse in miniature,” casting the experiences of the suffering church in cosmological terms. The armies of the Beast and the Lamb square up, but the battle ends with glorification of the redeemed and damnation for their enemies. First there is a description of war in heaven (12:1–12), mirrored by war on earth (13:1–18), followed by the vindication of the martyrs and judgment of the wicked (14:1–20). (12:1–12) War in Heaven John’s first vision of the two opposing sides is represented by two portents: a woman in labor, clothed with the sun with the moon at her feet and crowned with twelve stars (12:1–2) and a great red dragon with seven heads and ten horns (12:3), who swept a third of the stars to earth with his tail (12:4). John deploys a mythical drama to depict the struggle between the church and Rome (Aune 2:667–74). While the dragon waits to devour the woman’s child, he is immediately snatched up to heaven as soon as he is born. The child clearly represents Christ, for he is to “rule the nations with a rod of iron,” and is taken to God’s throne (12:5). John then turns to the war in heaven in which Michael and the angels cast the dragon and his angels down to earth. John discovers the dragon is the ancient serpent called the devil (diabolos) and Satan (satanas), who deceives the whole world (12:9). It is not necessary to pinpoint this war in primordial history. Instead, John deploys mythological narratives to describe the situation as he finds it. The result of this expulsion is joy in heaven, for it represents the coming of the power and kingdom of God, and the authority of Christ (12:10), which has already been announced (11:15–17), heralding the judgment of the dead and rewarding of the saints (11:18). However, this leads to a crisis on earth in the midst of which John’s communities find themselves (12:12). 608

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In the Apocalypse, the current battle is between Christians and the dragon. While he accuses them (12:10), “They have conquered him by the blood of the Lord and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even to death” (12:11). In other words, conquering in the Apocalypse is through testimony and martyrdom, a theme that will be reinforced throughout these central chapters. Revelation 12:7–12 essentially repeats 12:1–6, but represents it as present reality. John is more concerned to read his present through future judgment than the past. This depiction of war in heaven is the lens through which John wants his readers to interpret their current situation. If they had been unaware previously, they should now understand that they are involved in cosmic warfare with the Beast. From a SIT standpoint, this becomes their “shared goal” from which the salience of their ingroup identity is maintained (Haslam, 54). (12:13—13:18) War on Earth (12:13–17) The Dragon Makes War on the Church At Rev 12:13, John takes up again the story of the woman from 12:1–6. Thwarted in his attempt to devour her child, he pursues her to the desert, but she is protected by God. While the identity of the woman has been obscure, John reveals that she has other offspring, against whom the dragon makes war. The woman represents the church, and her children are “those who keep the commandments of God and bear testimony to Jesus” (12:17). As the dragon places himself on the sand of the sea, the scene is set for John’s iconic ch. 13 in which he depicts the Beast. (13:1–18) The World Follows the Beast In Revelation 13, John explicitly outlines the cosmic battle in which Christians find themselves. The battle lines are drawn very clearly, and John insists that all faithful Christians will, at least in the literary world of the Apocalypse, face martyrdom. Christian social identity in Revelation is principally membership of a martyr church. The dragon, who has waged war on the church, stands on the seashore as a beast rises out of the sea (13:1), to which the dragon hands over his authority (13:2). Importantly, this causes the whole earth (holē hē gē) to follow it (13:3) and worship both it and the dragon (13:4). For John, it is the church against the whole world. Earlier, the Devil was described as the “deceiver of the whole world” (12:9), and he will later restate that “all who live on the earth will worship the beast” (13:8), because he was given authority “over every tribe, people, tongue, and nation” (13:7). Those who worship the Beast are defined as “every one whose name has not been written from the foundation of the world in the book of life of the Lamb who was slain” (13:8). There is no demilitarized zone in the Apocalypse; humans either follow the Lamb or worship the Beast. John’s identity-forming work, therefore, sharply divides the world into Lamb followers and the rest. To reinforce the point, a further beast appears and, like the dragon, “makes the earth and its inhabitants worship the Beast” (13:12) and “deceive those who live on earth” (13:14), causing them to make an image of it, almost certainly representing the emperor cult. The earth-dwellers’ infatuation with the Beast is explained by their awe of its apparently unconquerable power: “Who is like the Beast, and who can wage war against it?” (13:4). John acknowledges the apparent might of Rome and her armies, but the question of who can stand against the Beast is precisely the one Revelation answers. The Lamb, the one seated on the throne, and the martyrs not only can war against Rome but also will conquer it. In the same way that John systematically aligns the inhabitants of the earth with the Beast, he creates a Christian social identity that has witness and martyrdom as two key ingroup behaviors. 609

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Christians suffer at the hands of the Beast, as he is permitted (divine passive) to make war on the saints and conquer them (13:7). Like the two witnesses (11:3–13), they are apparently defeated. John affirms that all those who refuse to worship the Beast and its image will be slain (13:15), and this calls for the endurance and faith of the saints (13:10). However, martyrdom is the sign that their names are in the Lamb’s book of life (13:9). Just as Christians belong to the Lamb, the Beast stamps his mark of ownership on the earth-dwellers (13:15). John reveals that the number of the Beast is a human number, 666, most likely referring to Nero, although this is more obvious in the textual variation 616 (see above). (14:1–20) The Vindication of the Martyrs John throughout insists that his communities remain faithful in the face of suffering, or to repent of problematic behavior even if it leads to suffering. In the possible situation in which a Christian might find herself before the authorities with a choice to save or lose her life by denying or confessing Christ, John offers disincentives to deny by outlining the torture the wicked will face come judgment. However, he also offers incentives to undergo martyrdom by presenting the martyrs as resurrected, vindicated, and glorified. Earlier, he had contrasted the inhabitants of the world cowering in fear from the judgment of the Lamb (6:12–17) with the 144,000 and multitudes of martyrs. Similarly, the Beast worshippers who carry out the will of the Beast in causing Christians to be slain are contrasted with the martyrs in heaven. (14:1–5) The Martyrs Who Follow the Lamb The 144,000 who follow the Lamb wherever he goes (14:4) stand in direct contrast to those who go after the Beast (13:3). As the Beast worshippers were marked (13:16), so too the Lamb’s followers bear his and God’s name on their foreheads (14:1). John noted that all who live on the earth will worship the Beast, but these 144,000 have been redeemed from the earth (14:3). They sing a song exclusive to them (14:3), and are first fruits for God and the Lamb (14:4). While commentators have noted first fruits generally precedes a more general harvest to follow (Yarbro Collins, 127–28), it is only the first fruits that are offered to God (Deut 26:1–15). Since John has sharply divided humanity into Lamb followers and Beast worshippers, it is more likely this is yet another snapshot of the whole martyr church (Middleton, Violence, 212). In a verse that has proven challenging to many commentators, John describes these 144,000 as “those who have not defiled themselves with women, for they are virgins (parthenoi)” (14:4). While a special set of “virgin spiritual elite” was a common interpretation in the early church (e.g., Origen, Comm. John 1.1–4; Cyprian, De habitu virginum 4–5; Augustine, Serm. 304.2), modern commentators (e.g., Bauckham, 210–37) usually point to the ritual purity, including sexual abstinence, expected of soldiers before Holy War (Lev 15:16; Deut 23:9–14; 1 Sam 21:5; 2 Sam 11:9–13; 1QM 7.6). However, while such ritual purity was temporary, there is nothing in Revelation to suggest this is a temporary state. Also possible is an early Christian ambivalence about marriage in view of the imminent end (Yarbro Collins, 129–31), such as is found in Paul (cf. 1 Cor 7:25), or the general early Christian negativity for family ties (e.g., Luke 18:29; Q 14.26–27; Mark 10:29). Given John uses the language of pollution (molunō), it is likely he is calling his readers to avoid the polluting influence of the Beast. The unusual use of male virgins here represents the whole martyr church being kept pure and spotless for their impending marriage to the Lamb (Middleton, “Male,” 193–208; Rev 19:7–8).

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(14:6–20) Two Judgment Scenes After the vision of the martyrs, John then turns once again to the judgment on the wicked. An angel flying in heaven delivers an eternal message (euangelion aiōnios) to the inhabitants of the earth (14:6). This is not a “gospel” call to repent, but an announcement of judgment (14:7). The angel demands that God be worshipped, while another angel outlines the consequences for those who refuse. Babylon, that is Rome, who makes “all nations drink of her impure passion” is fallen (14:8). This is John’s first announcement that Babylon will fall, but it is an image to which he will return (Revelation 17–18). A third angel spells out what this will mean for humanity: those who drink the impure wine of Babylon—those marked by the Beast—will in turn be forced to drink the unmixed wine of God’s wrath (14:10). Earlier, John announced they will be tortured by scorpions, but that experience ended after five months. Now he declares they will be eternally tormented with fire in the presence of the angels and the Lamb (14:9–11). The judgment that will be inflicted is also a call for faithfulness, for the endurance of the saints to keep God’s commandments and the faith of Jesus (14:12). In the literary world he has created, all faithful witnesses will be martyred, yet John assures his readers “blessed are the dead who die in the Lord” (14:13). John once again sharply contrasts the fate of Lamb followers and Beast worshippers. While martyrs will rest from their labors, those who go after the Beast will be eternally tormented before the Lamb. Once again, it is worth noting that the Apocalypse does not operate with a linear timeframe. This eternal torment of the wicked should be understood as another version of the final judgment in Rev 6:12–17. John then immediately turns to yet another representation of retribution, when the Son of Man harvests the earth (14:14–20). The Son of Man figure who appears sitting on a cloud wearing a crown and holding a sickle is best understood as Christ. The Son of Man language has been used in the Apocalypse of Christ (1:12–20), and in Christian tradition, he comes in the clouds to execute judgment (1:7; cf. Mark 14:62). While this is the most natural reading, some commentators (Aune, 2:841) reject this interpretation on the grounds that he appears to take a command to harvest the earth from an angel (14:15). There are two reapings (contra Aune, 2:844), one carried out by the Son of Man and another by an angel. It is probably the case that the first gathers the elect (cf. Mark 13:26–27), although not much detail is given. Nonetheless, there may be some recollection of the martyrs as the first fruits (14:4; Blount, 280). Harvesting is used for a metaphor for judgment in the Hebrew Bible (Isa 17:5; 18:4–5; 24:13; Jer 51:33; Hos 6:11; Joel 4:13; Mic 4:12–13), and when the angel with power over fire, an instrument of judgment in the Apocalypse (Rev 3:18; 8:5, 7–8; 9:17–18; 14:10; 15:2; 19:20; 20:10; 21:8), swings his sickle, he reaps the grapes, which represent the wicked. It is noteworthy that this second harvest is given more attention than the first, and that the “produce” is more plentiful—an acknowledgment that, for John, the vast majority of humanity will be horrifically judged. They are thrown “into the great winepress of the wrath of God” (14:19) and are trampled, an image that combines Joel 3:13 with Isa 63:1–6 in which the victor’s clothes are red from the winepress representing the blood of his enemies. That these grapes are a metaphor for people is made explicit when John notes that when the winepress is trampled, it is blood that flows from it, as high as a horses bridle for 1,600 stadia. John leaves his readers in no doubt about the awful fate of the wicked, and why they should ensure that they have no part in the ways of the Beast.

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The Third Ring (15:1–22:21) The Seven Bowls (15:1–16:21) John has throughout contrasted the fate of the saved and the damned using septets of visions, in which proportions of the earth (a third and then a half) have been affected. In the final septet of judgments when bowls of God’s wrath are poured out the destruction is total. While these judgments repeat what has gone before, in narrative terms this series completes the time of waiting: “With them the wrath of God is ended” (15:1). (15:1–8) Preparation and Praise in Heaven John has interspersed visions of the martyrs with his depictions of violent judgments, which serve to persuade his readers that if they are tempted to side with the Beast in response to persecution or martyrdom, they should ponder the eternal suffering and torment that waits their persecutors. In Rev 6:9–11, the souls under the altar longed for judgment to avenge their death. Throughout the Apocalypse, John suggests at least some of the violence inflicted on the inhabitants of the earth is in response to, and proportionate with, the violence the earth-dwellers inflicted on Christians. Before the bowls of wrath are poured out, John sees “those who had conquered the beast” standing with harps, singing the song of Moses, and the song of the Lamb (15:2–3). Those who conquer the Beast are martyrs (Rev 12:11), and while what follows bears little relation to the song of Moses in Exod 15:1–8 or Deut 31:30— 32:43, this may be a reference back to the song that only the 144,000 martyrs know (14:3), who similarly play on harps (14:2; cf. 15:2). The song of the martyrs praises God for his deeds, which they say are just. In context, these deeds are the judgments that have been described and which will follow. After the song of praise, the seven angels with the plagues emerge from the heavenly temple, and are given bowls full of the wrath of God. A loud voice from the temple then instructs them to pour the bowls on the earth (16:1). (16:1–21) The Seven Bowls The narrative of the seven bowls is brisk; they are poured in quick succession. The first brings Beast worshippers out in foul sores. As the Beast marked their heads and hands, so now God marks their skin (16:2). The second and third bowls are poured on the sea and rivers, respectively, killing everything in them (16:3–4; cf. Exod 9:8–12). The bowls intensify the judgments of the trumpets in which only a third of sea creatures died (8:12). The occupants of heaven particularly enjoy the irony of this judgment; just as the earth-dwellers shed the blood of the saints, they in turn have been given blood to drink (16:6). In response, the altar, representing the martyrs, agree that God’s judgments are indeed just (16:7). When the fourth angel pours his bowl on the sun, it scorches people with fire (16:8), in contrast to the martyrs who will not be harmed by the sun (7:16). In response to the fourth and fifth bowls, the latter being poured on the throne of the Beast, plunging his kingdom into darkness, and causing people to gnaw their tongues, John notes that similar to the way in which they previously responded to God’s judgment, the Beast worshippers do not repent, but curse God (16:9, 11; cf. 9:20–21). The sixth and seventh bowls are not so destructive, but prepare for the end of Revelation’s narrative. The sixth is poured on the Euphrates and dries it up in preparation for the invasion by the kings of the East. Demonic spirits from the mouths of the dragon, Beast, and false prophet gather at Armageddon for the final battle to be fought “on the great day of God the Almighty” 612

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(16:12–16). John inserts a makarism, which appears to be out of place (Aune, 2:896), warning the readers that Christ is coming like a thief, and that their garments must be kept clean. However, this serves to remind his communities that, at this critical junction, they have a choice to remain faithful or, if necessary, amend their ways before judgment commences (cf. 3:4). John calls his readers to choose which side they are on, a call that seeks to reestablish appropriate group norms. Unlike the other bowls, the seventh is not poured on anything, but is instead poured into the air. With that, a voice confirms that judgment is complete (16:7), and there is an array of apocalyptic signs, lightening, voices, thunder, and a great earthquake, that splits “the great city” into three parts, islands flee, mountains disappear, and great hailstones fall, causing people to curse God. The scene is a recapitulation of the Day of the wrath of the Lamb and God (6:12–17). As a result, “The cities of the nations fell” (16:19). John most probably means all cities of all nations as if to an enemy force. As will be narrated, God’s armies will rout those of the nations who fight with the Beast. However, John has one particular city in mind in the Apocalypse. Despite her apparent might, Rome, her emperor, and all his armies will fall in the face of God’s power. Rome is depicted as Babylon and, because of its treatment of the saints, will be forced to drain the cup of fury of God’s wrath. John then turns to linger on the judgment of Rome, in the famous Whore of Babylon scene.

The Defeat of Babylon (17:1–19:21) Babylon falls (17:1–18:24) (17:1–18) The Vision of the Whore of Babylon Although John only now turns specifically to the fall of Rome, each judgment scene has so far anticipated its defeat. In Rev 6:12–17, great men and generals cowered from the wrath of the Lamb, including Rome’s emperor and armies. The image of the Beast represented the emperor cult, and John has already intimated that Rome is conquered through the blood of the Lamb and saints. Earlier, the seer had intimated that Babylon had fallen, and also outlined his main complaint; the nations drink “from the wine of her impure passion” (14:8). John is concerned that the polluting influence of Rome may entice even his followers. He builds on this sexual metaphor stating that the nations drink “the wine of her fornication,” as he depicts Rome as the great whore (17:2, 4; 18:3, 9; 19:2). Rome is visualized as a whore dressed in scarlet riding a scarlet beast with ten heads full of blasphemous names (17:3), holding a cup of the wine of her impurity (17:4). Every evil on the earth finds its source in Rome; she bears her title on her forehead “Babylon the great, mother of harlots and of earth’s abominations” (17:5). Significantly, as the nations drink from the whore’s cup, she herself is drunk with the blood of the saints and the blood of the martyrs of Jesus (17:6). One again, John contrasts the faithful with the damned; the wicked drink from the whore’s abominable wine, while the saints are slain by Rome. The vision causes John to marvel at her apparent power (17:6), in the same way as the earthdwellers wondered “Who is like the Beast?” (13:7; 17:8). However, he is warned by an angel not to be deceived and foretells the impending final battle between the forces of the Beast and the Lamb. He explains that the woman is Rome. She is seated on seven hills (17:9), and represents the great city with dominion over the kings of the earth (17:18). However, for John, Rome is

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merely the servant of the Beast. Rome will make war on the Lamb, but will be conquered. Christ’s power is greater than any emperor, for God is the true emperor (pantokratōr; 1:8; 4:8; 11:17; 15:33; 16:7; 19:6; 21:22). Moreover, John notes that when this battle comes, the Lamb will not be alone; he will be accompanied by his army of martyrs who are “chosen and faithful” (17:14). Despite Rome’s power, she is reduced to a branded prostitute, and her end will be brutal. She will be defeated by the Lamb, but also ravaged from within; the Beast will turn on Rome, and playing on Roman fears of an invasion from the east, John predicts the Beast with the earth’s kings will make her desolate and naked, burning her with fire (17:16). (18:1–24) The Whore of Babylon Is Destroyed Portraying a city as a prostitute is not uncommon in the context of judgment in the Hebrew Bible (e.g., Isa 1:21; 23:16–17; Nah 3:4); it is a designation given to Israel itself in periods of unfaithfulness and idolatry (Jer 3:6–10; Ezek 16:15–22; 23:1– 49; Hos 4:12–13; 5:3). Burning is the standard way of depicting the destruction of a city (e.g., Jer 34:22), leaving them desolate (e.g., 2 Kgs 19:7; Ezra 4:15; Neh 2:3; Pss 79:7; Isa 1:7; 6:11; 23:13; Ezek 26:2, 19; 32:15). Rome, the city that glorified herself (18:7–8) and persecutes God’s people, will be judged, humiliated and laid waste. Even when the kings of the earth turn on her, it is not through human but divine will, “for God puts it into their hearts” (17:17). In response, the world—the kings, merchants, shipmasters, and sailors—which committed fornication with her laments Babylon’s fall (18:9–19), listing the trade and wealth which made Rome great. However, now that God’s swift judgment has come, they weep that she is in ruins (18:10, 17, 19). The destruction of Rome has been described in graphic and sexualized terms. As a whore, she enticed the nations to fornicate with her, and for John, his greatest fear is that Christians do not understand the serious threat she poses to piety or the salience of their Lamb-follower identity. He has warned his readers to separate themselves from the polluting influence of Rome, and in the scene of Rome’s destruction, he issues his clearest call. A voice comes from heaven telling God’s people to come out of Babylon, so that they do not take part in her sins, for to fail to separate may result in sharing in her judgments and plagues (18:4). While it is not entirely obvious how Christians could do so, they are urged to return to Babylon twice that she has rendered to them (18:6), although this may refer to their potential status as judging martyrs (Middleton, Violence, 224–35). As the martyrs under the altar had demanded vengeance for what Rome had done to them, so their prayers are explicitly answered, as they are enjoined to “rejoice over her, O heaven, O saints and apostles and prophets, for God has given judgment for you against her” (18:20). To emphasize the point, an angel throws a millstone into the sea to illustrate that the great city will be struck down with violence and removed from the earth (18:21). As further indication of her wickedness, and linking her judgment explicitly the martyrs’ cry, the blood of the saints are found in her when her body is opened (18:24) (19:1–21) Christ and His Martyrs Defeat the Beast (19:1–10) The Saints Rejoice over Babylon God destroys Rome swiftly and brutally. She tortured and killed the saints, and in return she will be brutalized, humiliated, judged, and destroyed. The city will be no more, and John’s readers tempted to compromise their faith, and perhaps deny Jesus’s name under trial, should look to this future fate of the great city that enamored so many. Cinnirella (229) notes that people usually avoid “negatively evaluated possible selves,” and John’s evaluation of the city’s future calls that desired identity into question. John will offer 614

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Christians a vision of an alternative city, and they must choose to which one they wish to belong. In response to the destruction of Babylon, worship is heard in heaven. God is praised for bringing down Babylon, and avenging the blood of his servants (19:2). So far, John has depicted Christians as righteous sufferers. He has reinforced his warning first found in the seven letters; his readers must separate themselves from collusion with Rome. This culminates in an explicit call to come out of Babylon (18:4–8). John’s rhetorical strategy has been largely through negative persuasion, an approach designed to create social distance for the relevant outgroup. By depicting the torments of the wicked, he gives Christians a reason to undergo persecution and, if necessary, martyrdom, rather than deny Jesus under pressure. Visions of martyrs, spared from the tribulation inflicted on the world, have been interspersed with these depictions of torments. Martyrs are assured that they will be avenged. However, after narrating the fall of Babylon, John now looks forward to the ultimate reward God’s people will enjoy. Those who have kept themselves pure are invited to the marriage of the Lamb (19:7), and it transpires that they are not merely guests, but the bride, who has been made ready, clothed in “the righteous deeds of the saints” (19:8) and blessed (19:9). John is so overwhelmed by this news that he falls down to worship the messenger, but is told that angels are fellow servants with those who hold the testimony of Jesus. Worship belongs only to God (19:10; 22:8–9). Although John is told God is the sole proper recipient of worship, throughout the Apocalypse the Lamb also receives worship (5:8–13). For John, Christ shares with God a different place in the celestial order from creation. Second, the status of the martyrs is raised in the angel’s prohibition. Those who witness to Jesus share the same rank as angels (cf. 1 Cor 6:3). (19:11–16) Christophany III: The Rider on the Horse After being told to worship only God, John witnesses the third and final major Christophany of the Apocalypse (cf. 1:12–20; 5:6–13), as Christ appears riding on a white horse. The identification as Christ is established by the reuse of earlier Christological imagery: faithful and true (Rev 19:11; cf. 1:5; 3:14); eyes like a flame (19:12; cf. 1:14; 2:18); the sharp sword from his mouth (19:15; cf. 1:16; 2:12, 16); and the title King of kings and Lord of lords (19:16; cf. 17:14; “ruler of the kings of the earth”; 1:5). In this latest manifestation, Christ is portrayed explicitly as a warrior judge (19:11): he smites the nations with the sword from his mouth (19:15; cf. Isa 11:4; Pss. Sol. 17.24, 26, 29); and treads the winepress of God’s wrath (cf. Rev 14:14–20; Isa 63:3). However, this judging function was also carried out by Christ in his manifestation as the Lamb (Rev 6:16; 14:10). Each of the Christophanies overlap, and there is certainly no sense in which the Lamb imagery reflects only suffering sacrifice. Similarly, the crucifixion is also present in this manifestation, reminding the reader that conquering is achieved through martyrdom. The rider is dressed in a robe dipped in blood (Rev 19:13). It is possible that this blood belongs to his enemies (cf. Isa 63:3), although the battle has not yet begun in the narrative (Koester, 756). However, given the potency of Christ’s blood in the Apocalypse in freeing believers from their sins, and making their robes white (7:14), the conquering aspect of Christ’s own death is most likely in view. The rider does not appear alone. He is followed by the armies of heaven “arrayed in fine linen, white and pure” (19:14), earlier identified as the wedding garments: the righteous deeds of the saints (19:8). The martyrs win the right not only to attend the marriage supper of the Lamb but to accompany Christ into battle, cleansed by his blood on account of shedding their own (cf. Rev 12:11).

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(19:17–21) The Rider and the Martyrs Defeat Their Enemies The opposing armies line up for war, but the outcome is already known. In a grizzly inversion of the marriage supper, the birds are invited to feast on the flesh of humanity: kings, captains, mighty men, riders and their horses, free and slave, small and great, echoing the first judgment scene in Rev 6:12–17. The battle is not narrated; it is a rout. The Beast and the false prophet, who led the peoples of the earth astray to worship its image, are captured and thrown into the lake of fire (19:20). With the generals removed, the rider slays their armies, leaving none alive. Judgment is total; there is no escape from the wrath of the Lamb. While once again some commentators balk at the level of violence narrated here and argue the sword from the riders mouth means people the nations are defeated by his words (Smalley, 499), it is then difficult to make sense of John ramming home the scene of total destruction, noting the “birds were gorged with their flesh” (19:21).

The Final Defeat of Satan and the New Jerusalem (20:1–22:21) (20:1–15) The Annihilation of the Wicked After the slaughter of the wicked and the disposal of the Beast and the false prophet, John turns his attention to the Dragon/Satan. He is bound for a thousand years and then loosed for a little while (20:1–3). After the thousand years, there is another battle as Satan deceives the nations and leads them to war against the saints. However, fire from heaven consumes them (20:9), and the Devil joins the Beast and false prophet in the lake of fire to be tormented eternally (20:10). Given the armies of the earth had already been destroyed, it is not clear from where the Devil’s forces come. However, to attempt to read the Apocalypse as a linear narrative results in a large number of such continuity errors. This is why attempts to read world history through the Apocalypse, though popular, are fantasy. John is most concerned about the readers to whom he wrote (deSilva, 6). It is better to interpret John as repeating the same single message that the wicked will be destroyed and the saints rewarded, a message designed to keep the boundaries secure. Meanwhile, during the thousand years of the devil’s incarceration, the martyrs come back to life (Rev 20:4–6). As Jesus, functioning as the ingroup prototype, was the firstborn from the dead (1:5), his martyrs are first fruits (14:4). However, martyrs are not merely resurrected. Like Jesus, they reign and exercise judgment (20:4). John brings their fate and reward into close proximity. They are “the souls of those who had been beheaded for their testimony to Jesus and for the word of God, and who had not worshipped the beast or its image and had not received its mark on their foreheads or their hands” (20:4). Resisting the Beast by refusing to participate in Roman ways, and remaining faithful to Jesus by not denying his name under pressure, resulted in martyrdom, but their deaths lead directly to vindication. As was implied in ch. 13, John’s church is a martyr church. There is no reason to imagine that within John’s literary landscape this is a particular subset of Christians, or only that proportion of martyrs who were beheaded rather than killed in other ways. The souls who were under the altar now sit on thrones (Aune, 3:1087–88). Whereas God had previously judged Babylon for the martyrs (18:20), here judgment is committed to them (contra Koester, 772; Smalley, 506), fulfilling the reward promised to those who remained faithful to share the judgment seat of Christ that they might smash the nations like clay pots and rule over them with a rod of iron (2:26–27). Importantly, martyrs bypass the final judgment about to be narrated. They are raised as part of the first resurrection, and cannot be touched by the second death (20:6). 616

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Although John has provided proleptic visions of final judgment, in 20:11–15 he turns to the more traditional judgment scene of apocalyptic tradition. The dead are raised and all stand before God’s throne, and are judged according to their deeds, which has been an important feature of the Apocalypse (2:2, 5, 6, 19, 22, 23, 26; 3:1, 2, 8, 15; 9:20; 14:13; 16:11; 18:6; cf. 22:12). However, unlike other apocalyptic judgment scenes (cf. Matt 25:31–46; Dan 12:1–3), there is no emphasis on a great separation; the martyr church has already been raised (20:4–6). Instead, those who stand before the throne are destined for destruction. John has already divided humanity into those in the Lamb’s book of life, and everyone else—the Beast worshippers (13:8). Once again, John is concerned only with his readers, not the fate of the world. He has warned that wayward behavior can result in members of his communities finding their names blotted out of the book of life (3:5). Unfaithfulness will lead to the judgment throne of God, and ultimately the lake of fire with the Beast and the rest of humanity to be tortured for eternity before the Lamb. (21:1—22:5) New Jerusalem: The Saints Victorious John’s message to his churches—that they must remain faithful—is based on the conviction that, seen from the throne room of God, Rome’s power was illusory. Despite her armies and apparent might, the great city is no more than a harlot who will be humiliated and destroyed when God, the Lamb, and his army of martyrs come to judge it. In John’s final vision, he sees a new heaven and earth, and a new city, Jerusalem, in which those who found the Roman Empire to be a place of danger and victimization can dwell eternally with God and the Lamb. Nonetheless, even in the midst of this beatific vision, John still introduces a note of caution and warning. For the last time, John introduces a vision with kai eidon, a construction that has punctuated the Apocalypse, as he witnesses a new creation, as the old order passes away to be replaced with a new heaven and earth (21:1). This as yet unrealized aspect of John’s vision provides a framework for understanding the group’s future social identity as well as motivation for future behaviors (Cinnirella, 229). John is heavily dependent on Isaiah’s eschatological vision (Isa 65:17–25) as the barrier that separates God from humanity is dissolved. In order to enter God’s presence, John had to visit the throne room in heaven, but in the new Jerusalem God will reside with humanity (21:3). All suffering, the mark of Christian identity while they live on earth, will end (21:4), for all things are made new (21:5). Therefore, in this new world God will transform Christian identity from those who suffer to those who live in glory. To gain entry to this new city, believers must conquer. This is the message that has been repeated throughout the Apocalypse, first heard in the seven letters. As with Christ, Christians conquer through suffering and martyrdom, which is how they come into God’s presence (21:7). John is then taken to a high mountain and sees Jerusalem coming down from heaven (21:11; cf. 21:2). It is a perfect square symbolizing completeness (21:16), with twelve gates and twelve foundations, on which the names of the twelve tribes of Israel and twelve apostles are inscribed, which recalls the assembly of the martyrs in Rev 7:1–7. Unlike the earthly Jerusalem, there is no need for a temple, for God and the Lamb are its temple. As God and the Lamb live among God’s people, there is no need for a cult. Similarly, in this new cosmic reality, there is no need for sun, for the glory of God is its light and the Lamb is its lamp. In John’s final vision, God and the Lamb are even more intimately related to each other, even sharing a throne (22:1). In what appears to be a continuity error, the kings of the earth are said to bring their glory to the city (21:26), but they have been destroyed. However, John is deploying stock eschatological

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material from Isaiah (60:11). Nonetheless, John cannot resist reinforcing his message that not all humanity will share in this future. He again warns that the wicked will burn in the lake of fire, the second death (21:8) in contrast to those who conquer (21:7), and that only those who are in the Lamb’s book of life can enter the city; all others are practitioners of abomination (21:7). While John has shown no interest in salvation beyond the community, the city contains the tree of life, “for the healing of the nations” (22:2), but then he notes that nothing accursed will be in the city (22:3). The final view of the city is the river of the water of life, flowing from the throne of God and the Lamb. God’s servants will see his face, and bear his name on their foreheads. These were earlier characteristics of the martyrs. Freed from their sins by the blood of Jesus, and made worthy by their own shed blood, the martyrs live in the city, fulfilling their destiny and reign forever (22:5). (22:6–21) Conclusion: The Significance of the Apocalypse Throughout the Apocalypse John has claimed divine authority to construct a Christian social identity that clearly distinguishes the church from the Roman world. The “inhabitants of the earth” follow the Beast, while the Christians, those redeemed from the earth, follow the Lamb. Christian social identity is based on following the experience of the Lamb, as the ingroup prototype; he was slain, raised, glorified, and reigns in glory and with judgment. Christians similarly conquer through suffering and martyrdom at the hands of the Beast and his worshippers, and they will likewise be vindicated and take their place on judgment thrones. John has been at pains to insist that those in danger of participating in a cozy coalition with the Beast should repent, otherwise they will share in the punishments of Babylon. John reinforces this message throughout Revelation by contrasting the fate of Beast worshippers and Lamb followers. In the Revelation’s coda, he continues that theme. John’s authority comes from God, who granted him his vision, mediated through an angel. He once again affirms that his words are trustworthy and true (22:6), and that those who keep the book’s words of prophecy are blessed (22:7). Keeping the words in the book become a further identifier of the Christian when the angel whom John attempts to worship declares he is “a fellow servant with you and your brothers the prophets and with those who keep the words of this book” (22:9). This reinforces John’s larger claim that to realize the anticipated identity requires faithfulness, in this way that future identity provides motivation to reinterpret present experiences (Cinnirella, 235–36). The imminent return of Christ dominates the epilogue (22:7, 12, 20), and functions as both a promise and a threat that he will judge according to people’s deeds (22:12; cf. 2:23; 18:6; 20:12, 13; cf. 2:2, 19; 3:1, 8, 15). Furthermore, John’s churches live in the shadow of the end, as he insists that the events in the book will take place soon (22:6; cf. 1:2). A series of final contrasts between the two groups of humanity encourage readers to choose the right side: “Let the evildoer still do evil, and the filthy still be filthy, and the righteous still do right, and the holy still be holy” (22:11). Furthermore, John then contrasts those who wash their robes, and who will enter the holy city, with the dogs and other evildoers who will be shut outside (22:14). John’s readers must live as those whose names are contained in the Lamb’s book of life. This means they must come out of Babylon, and embrace martyrdom. If they do not, their names will be blotted out of the book of life, and they will find themselves shut outside the city, and be subjected to the horrific judgments contained in the book. John reasserts his authority as a prophet by stressing that his message comes from Jesus, who has sent his angel with the testimony of the churches mediated by John. His message is urgent 618

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and true, such that any rival prophet who adds to or subtracts from his message will face dire consequences (22:18–19). In light of the suffering true disciples will face, including martyrdom, the consequential punishments for the wicked, and rewards for the followers of the Lamb when the events of the Apocalypse unfold, John ends with the prayer that unites his martyr church in looking forward to their vindication: “Come, Lord Jesus!” (22:20).

References Aune, David E. Revelation. WBC 52A–52C; 3 Vols. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1997–1998. Barr, David L. “Waiting for the End that Never Comes: The Narrative Logic of John’s Story.” Pages 101–12 in Studies in the Book of Revelation. Edited by Steve Moyise. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2001. Bauckham, Richard. The Climax of Prophecy: Studies in the Book of Revelation. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993. Beale, Gregory K. The Book of Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text. NIGTC. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999. Blount, Brian K. Revelation: A Commentary. NTL. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 2009. Bredin, Mark. Jesus, A Revolutionary of Peace: A Nonviolent Christology in the Book of Revelation. Paternoster Biblical Monographs. Milton Keynes: Paternoster, 2003. Carey, Greg. “The Apocalypse and Its Ambiguous Ethos.” Pages 163–80 in Studies in the Book of Revelation. Edited by Steve Moyise. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2001. Cinnirella, Marco. “Exploring Temporal Aspects of Social Identity: The Concept of Possible Social Identities.” European Journal of Social Psychology 28 (1998): 227–48. Collins, John J. “Introduction: Towards the Morphology of a Genre.” Pages 1–20 in Apocalypse: The Morphology of a Genre. Edited by John J. Collins. Semeia 14. Missoula: Scholars, 1979. deSilva, David A. Seeing Things John’s Way: The Rhetoric of the Book of Revelation. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 2009. Dixon, Sarah Underwood. “‘The Testimony of Jesus’ in Light of Internal Self-References in the Books of Daniel and 1 Enoch.” Pages 81–93 in The Book of Revelation: Currents in British Scholarship on the Apocalypse. Edited by Garrick V. Allen, Ian Paul, and Simon P. Woodman. WUNT II.411. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015. Fletcher, Michelle. Reading Revelation as Pastiche: Imitating the Past. LNTS 571; London: T&T Clark, 2017. Friesen, Steven J. Imperial Cults and the Apocalypse of John: Reading Revelation in the Ruins. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001. Haslam, S. Alexander. Psychology in Organizations: The Social Identity Approach. London: Sage, 2011. Johns, Loren L. The Lamb Christology of the Apocalypse of John. WUNT II.167. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003. Koester, Craig R. Revelation: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. AB 38A. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2014. Marques, Jose, and Darío Páez. “The ‘Black Sheep Effect’: Social Categorization, Rejection of Ingroup Deviates, and Perception of Group Variability.” European Review of Social Psychology 5 (1994): 37–68. Middleton, Paul. “Male Virgins, Male Martyrs, Male Brides: A Reconsideration of the 144,000 ‘Who have not Dirtied Themselves with Women’ (Revelation 14.4).” Pages 193–208 in The Book of Revelation: Currents in British Scholarship on the Apocalypse. Edited by Garrick V. Allen, Ian Paul, and Simon P. Woodman. WUNT II.411. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015. Middleton, Paul. The Violence of the Lamb: Martyrs as Agents of Divine Judgement in the Book of Revelation. LNTS 586. London: T&T Clark, 2018.

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Moyise, Steve. “Does the Lion Lie down with the Lamb?” Pages 181–94 in Studies in the Book of Revelation. Edited by Steve Moyise. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2001. Ryan, Sean Michael. “‘The Testimony of Jesus’ and ‘The Testimony of Enoch’: An emic Approach to the Genre of the Apocalypse.” Pages 94–113 in The Book of Revelation: Currents in British Scholarship on the Apocalypse. Edited by Garrick V. Allen, Ian Paul, and Simon P. Woodman. WUNT II.411. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015. Smalley, Stephen S. The Revelation to John: A Commentary on the Greek Text. London: SPCK, 2005. Yarbro Collins, Adela. Crisis and Catharsis: The Power of the Apocalypse. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1984.

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