Near Emmaus


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Book Review: Jonathan T. Pennington’s Reading the Gospels Wisely

Pennington, Jonathan T., Reading the Gospels Wisely: A Narrative and Theological Introduction (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2012). (Amazon.com)

reading-the-gospels-wiselyI prefer the conjunctions both/and to either/or, so this book was one of my favorite to read in 2012. Pennington’s approach to the Gospels is to encourage readers to see the value in the historical-grammatical (I’d add critical), literary, and theological approaches, rather than choosing one way to read the text. When I read the Gospels I find value in everything from working on the Synoptic Problem, to doing historical studies on the context within which the text was formed, to Lectio Divina. I read the Gospels as historical texts and as active, living Scripture. This is what Pennington’s book is “about”, reading. It is not a typical hermeneutics textbook, nor is it your common introduction to the Gospels, but a hybrid of the two.

Message of the Book

This book is aimed at reminding people that the Gospels are to be read for a greater purpose than the mere extraction of information. Pennington wants people to read the Gospels “wisely”, hearing their message, asking what this message means for one’s life and the life of the Church, and thinking about the Gospels from a variety of angles.

Summary of the Content

This book is divided intro three parts: Part 1: Clearing Ground, Digging Deep, and Laying a Good Foundation; Part 2: Building a House through Wise Reading; and Part 3: Living in the Gospels House are somewhat self-descriptive. The idea is the build a house with a strong hermeneutical foundation that allows for readers to best engage the text so that its teachings can change the thoughts and deeds of the reader. This is the flow of the book: hermeneutics to textual issues to application of one’s reading.

Chapter 1: What Are the Gospels? Defining “Gospel” begins by addressing the tendency of evangelicals to find the Gospel in the Pauline corpus, but not the Gospels themselves (e.g., “the Romans Road” or “Four Spiritual Laws”). Pennington reminds the reader that the Gospel is “good news”, that it is based upon “apostolic witness”, that the central figure is Jesus Christ, that it is an announcement with a particular “propaganda” that stood in contrast to that of the Roman imperial cult, that it began as an oral tradition, that that it was eventually canonized into the fourfold Gospel: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

Pennington examines the canonical Gospels to see what Mark, Matthew, Luke, and John meant by “Gospel”. For those familiar with the work of N.T. Wright, Scot McKnight, and others who have emphasized Jesus’ Kingdom message this book will please you because Pennington emphasizes this as well. He doesn’t leave the discussion in the New Testament, but also spends time discussing Isaiah, which I think it a wise decision.

For those interested, Pennington’s definition of the Gospels, and the Gospel proclaimed within these books, is this: “Our canonical Gospels are the theological, historical, and aretological (virtue-forming) biographical narratives that retell the story and proclaim the significance of Jesus Christ, who through the power of the Spirit is the Restorer of God’s reign.” (Kindle Locations 3146-3152)

In Chapter 2: What Are the Gospels? Understanding the “Gospel” Genre Pennington summarizes how the literarily aspect of the Gospels have been described as bioi as of recent. Pennington gives a lot of attention to the question of whether the Gospels are bioi or something more unique (engaging Richard Burridge’s popular work What Are the Gospels? A Comparison with Graeco-Roman Biography). He concludes that the Gospels are bioi plus, or biographies, but something more due to the theological/Christological agenda of the Gospels as well as the Gospels effort to tie their narrative into the Old Testament.

Chapter 3: Why Do We Need the Gospels? (Or Why Saint Paul is Not Enough) is an apologia that the Gospels should be seen as the primary sources for understanding the Gospel itself, even if Paul’s letters are chronological superior to the Gospels, Pennington says that the traditions that find their way into the Gospels are the traditions that informed Paul and the early church. He reminds readers that the Gospels have had a central place in the life and worship of the Church since the beginning, something that has been lost in recent centuries.

Chapter 4: The Joy and Angst of Having Four Gospels is a discussion on “Why four Gospels?” This chapter surveys the early Church’s decision to avoid harmonization (e.g., Tatian’s Diatessaron), to avoid late Gospel traditions that weren’t grounded in apostolic testimony (e.g., Gospel of Thomas, Gospel of Judas, Gospel of Peter), and stick with four Gospels and no more. The differences between the Synoptics with one another, the Synoptics and John, ancient and modern historiography, the trouble of a fourfold Gospel, and the joy of a fourfold Gospel are the topic discussed through the rest of the chapter.

Chapter 5: Texts and History is one of the most interesting chapters in the book. Pennington examines the recent debate over the worth of historical Jesus studies. He summarizes the positions of folk like N.T. Wright, Scot McKnight, Richard Hays and others. This question asks if there are dangers in trying to get “behind” the Gospels to the historical Jesus, what the consequences would be for those who do so, and what the dangers are of studying the Gospels without asking about their historical validity. Ancient historiography, Enlightenment historiography, whether the theology of the text remove their objectivity, and whether objectivity is possible at all are topics that receive attention. Pennington critiques “historicism”, finds value in history, but emphasizes that postmodernity has shown us that everything is interpretive, so we should be comfortable with reading the Gospels as interpretations of the Jesus of history. Richard Bauckham’s category of “testimony” is favored by Pennington. This is a chapter worth reading for those who are advocates of historical Jesus work as well as for those who think historical Jesus work should be discarded.

Chapter 6: Reading Holy Scripture Well: Three Avenues and Chapter 7: Reading Scripture Well: Intent, Meaning, and Posture transitions toward philosophical hermeneutics addressing whether we can read the Gospels historically, literarily, and theologically. He discusses topics like authorial intent, “meaning” (here there is reliance on people like Ricoeur and Gadamer), and the reader’s “posture” toward the text. For those familiar with concepts like the hermeneutical spiral, the two horizons of reading, “meaning” as being a combination of authorial intent and the reception of what is said, “a hermeneutic of trust”, and “a hermeneutic of suspicion” will know what to anticipate in these chapters. For those who don’t know what any or most of those terms mean this will be an exciting introduction.

Chapter 8: Foundations for Reading the Gospels Well ends Part 1. Pennington revisits his definition of the Gospels, the historicity of the Gospels, the role of the Gospels for historical Jesus scholars and whether historical Jesus studies are promising, what it means to read the Gospels vertically, what it means to read the Gospels as witness and testimony, and the purpose of the Gospels.

Chapter 9: Reading the Gospels as Stories: The “Whatever Strikes Me” (WSM) Hermeneutic versus Narrative Analysis begins Part 2. Pennington critiques the “Whatever Strikes Me” (WSM) approach to reading the Gospels. He pushes readers to work a little harder to understand the Gospels advocating Narrative Analysis using Luke 7:1-10 as a case study. This chapter aims to explain how stories function, why stories are more meaningful than other forms of literature, and why the Gospels are stories.

Chapter 10: Reading the Gospels are Stories: Circles of Contextual Meaning builds on the previous chapter. Pennington writes about reading individual stories with the Gospels, the literary structures that give broader meaning, how each Gospel informs the other, and how the Gospels should be read in a canonical context. The early chapters introducing hermeneutical theory are unfolded here for the reader to see how it “works”.

Chapter 11: Summing It All Up: Applying and Teaching the Gospels begins Part 3 and aims to discuss the aforementioned aretological (virtue-forming) nature of the Gospels. The Gospels were written to evoke change in the read, not to merely convey information. What does it look like to read the Gospels to hear that message and to be changed by that message? That is the discussion of this chapter.

Chapter 12: The Gospels as the Archway to the Canon will remind readers of Brevard Childs’ canonical approach. The Gospels connect the testaments, the Gospels explain the OT, they set the stage for the epistles, and provide the “archway” to the overarching narrative of the canon.

The book has a forward from Richard Bauckham, a Preface from the author, a Scripture Index and an Author Index.

Concluding Thoughts

If I were to teach a seminary class on the Gospels I would require the following reading: (1) The Gospels; (2) Extra-Canonical Gospels (for the sake of juxtaposition); and this book. If I were teaching a class in a church, same thing. If at a university, probably not, unless it was a Christian liberal arts university. If someone approaches the Gospels as both a text for academic study and as Scripture, then this book is worth your time.

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Craig A. Evans’ sermon on Mark 2:1-12

Craig A. Evans delivered a sermon on Mark 2:1-12 at New Minas Baptist Church as part of a series titled, “Christmas in Question”. He addresses the historicity of the person of Jesus, the reliability of the Gospels, what this text says about Jesus, and how we should think about Jesus in a world where novel ideas about his person swirl about us every day.

You can listen to it here.


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Three hermeneutical paradigms to use when studying the doctrine of the virgin birth

Reading-the-Gospels-Wisely-Pennington-Jonathan-EB9781441238702I have been reading Jonathan T. Pennington‘s marvelous new book Reading the Gospels Wisely: A Narrative and Theological Introduction and it has helped me a lot when it comes to thinking about hermeneutics, particularly the function of the historical-critical/grammatical approach juxtaposed with literary readings and canonical/theological readings. In “Chapter Five: Texts and History: The Testimony of the Fourfold Witness” Pennington examines the historical-critical approach, explains it value, and critiques its weaknesses. For Pennington the danger of putting all our eggs into the historical-critical/grammatical basket is that this is limits our reading of the Gospels, refuses to listen to the Gospels as the Gospels are designed to be heard, and ignores the limitations of the historical-critical/grammatical hermeneutic (as well as recent criticisms from the field of philosophical hermeneutics, exemplified by the likes of Hans-Georg Gadamer and Paul Ricour to name a couple). The Gospels make claims that presuppose things like the existence of Israel’s God and you cannot appeal to deity when doing critical historical studies. There are some things that can be understood about Jesus through historical-critical study, but one can never reach the theological claims of the church through this approach. This is a danger Pennington thinks we must avoid, but he doesn’t think the answer to the problem of the historical-critical lens is one that abandons the importance of history like a Docetic Christology.  He writes:

“If we approach the Gospels only as repositories of grand theological ideas and ideals, divorced from the historical reality of the incarnation and the resurrection, then we lose the history. Yet if we (even as believers) draw near to the Gospels thinking we must abandon all orthodox, creedal, and ecclesial notions and constraints on our reading or, less strictly, at least grow our theological construction in pure historical soil, then we not only fool ourselves in these possibilities, but we also deny the canonical nature of the Gospels.” (Kindle Location 2354)

He concludes that the language of “testimony” as presented by Richard Bauckham is a better avenue upon which one can approach studying the Gospels from a confessional perspective. Testimony honors both the aim of these works as a form of bios claiming to speak about historical events as well as recognizing that the theological claims of the Gospels move into a new frontier making the Gospels a unique subcategory of bioi. Likewise, testimony doesn’t make the mistake of thinking that historiography ancient or modern can ever be anything but interpretive (i.e., never fully objective as some claim). Since all history is interpretation the Gospels as testimony about Jesus care about historical events as interpreted through the apostolic kerygma.

Jonathan T. Pennington

Jonathan T. Pennington

I won’t delve much further into Pennington’s argument against limiting ourselves to the historical-critical approach—because it would be unfair to the author for me to try to condense a very well written, thoughtful chapter into a short blog post—but I will (1) encourage you to read this book; (2) provide a book review on this blog when I finish it; and (3) share the approach Pennington suggest for people who read the Gospels both as testimony of historical events and Scripture.

Pennington advocates reading the Gospels from multiple hermeneutical paradigms. He writes, “…my goal in reading is interwoven with the biblical idea of wisdom more than the modern scientific idea of knowledge, understood narrowly and impersonally.” (Kindle Location 2431) So in “Chapter Six: Reading Holy Scripture Well” he provides “three avenues of reading” that I will share and then use as a way to approach studying the doctrine of the virgin birth so that you can understand where Pennington is trying to take his readers.

First, “Behind the Text” or Historical, which includes redaction, form, and source criticism, social-scientific criticism, historical criticism, grammatical-historical exegesis, and movements like the Quest(s) for the historical (historian’s) Jesus.

Second, “In the Text” or Literary, which focuses on literary criticism, genre analysis, narrative criticism, composition criticism, and intertextuality.

Third, “In Front of the Text” or Canonical/Theological, which includes the history of interpretation, reception, history, Wirkungsgeshichte, biblical theology, redemptive history, theological reading, Regula fidei, figural reading, and intertextuality.

Let’s examine the doctrine of the virgin birth from these angles. First, the “Behind the Text” approach aims to understand not the message of the text itself alone, but the culture within which it was proclaimed. Honestly, if we use traditional historical-critical criteria as found in academic discussion we will not arrive at a virgin birth because solutions that cannot be reached by means of methodological naturalism are disqualified immediately. In other words, when doing history in this context, we cannot say, “Well, yes, it is impossible for this to happen, but God…” This isn’t a bad thing, necessarily, if we acknowledge the “language game” in which we chose to partake if we do academic history. If a scholar of Islam happened to be a confessing Muslim we Christians would question his academic biography on the Prophet Muhammad if when s/he reached the tradition about the Prophet’s ascent into heaven s/he begged-the-question by telling readers, “This happened because Allah…” This is not to say that it is impossible in reality that Allah accepted the Prophet into heaven, but rather that there are limitations on doing academic history that attempt to prevent any and every suggestion from having the same value (e.g., the abduction of a famous person is easier explained as having a human protagonist, even if the mystery is never solved as to who did it, than it is an alien from space, even if the alien theory is theoretically possible it is not the most probable).

On the other hand, historical-grammatical readings of the text might have more wiggle-room when it comes to discussing the doctrine of the virgin birth. In fact, I propose that most evangelical scholars who delve into historical research do so from a historical-grammatical angle rather than a historical-critical one. In the words of Gadamer the difference is between approaching a text with the hermeneutical of suspicion over against the hermeneutic of trust. Christians, even when engaging these texts as historians, tend to give the authors to benefit of a doubt in a way that a scholar who is not a Christian is not likely to do. This is not to say that one is better or more objective in my opinion. There are strengths and weaknesses to both approaches. For example, if Jesus did not resurrect from the dead a confessional scholar is not likely to see this because of the presuppositions brought to the study of the proclaimed event. Likewise, a skeptical scholar is not likely to come to affirm the reality of the resurrection, even if it did happen, because of the presuppositions brought to the study of the proclaimed event. I don’t mean to say that it is “all relative”, but it is subjective, always.

The historical-grammatical reading aims to make sense of a proclaimed event by means of studying the historical context in which it was proclaimed (e.g., the resurrection can be understood as a event proclaimed to have happened in first century Judea, near Jerusalem, under Roman governance, and so forth, and honestly, the presuppositions with which one approaches this topic will likely inform how this historical data “functions”, just compare the works of people like Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan to others like N.T. Wright or Michael Licona). So when one studies the doctrine of the virgin birth through a historical-grammatical lens it might be one and the same with the historical-critical, or it may be from a confessional standpoint where the virgin birth is understood as something that did happen, and then the study of everything from ancient womanhood, birth practices, first century Bethlehem, and other factors will be considered.

The “In the Text” is not concerned with the historical events within which the doctrine of the virgin birth is proclaimed. Even the Synoptic Problem falls into the first category better, though there are points of contact. This second approach may study things like how the doctrine of the virgin birth is proclaimed in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke and how this claims fits into the immediate narrative and how that narrative fits into the larger message of the Gospel. This approach can be used by the atheist scholar who doesn’t find these Gospels to produce much truth as well as the pastor who is preparing a sermon for Sunday and who wants to make sure that s/he proclaims a particular text in such a way that the literary message is received by the audience. One could discuss how the doctrine of the virgin birth fits into the message of the beginning of the Gospel of Luke without ever discussing the archaeology of Bethlehem, the socio-cultural role of “shepherds” in the first century, and other elements that are “Behind the Text”, though very helpful to understanding the text itself.

Finally, we have the approach that is “In Front of the Text”, i.e., an acceptable presupposition that informs how we read a text. For example, if one reads the Gospel of Matthew from approaches one or two it doesn’t matter all that much whether the Old Testament canon ends with Malachi as we find in the Christian tradition or Chronicles as it does in most versions of the Hebrew Bible. In this third paradigm it does matter though because Malachi ends with a proclamation to remember the Law of Moses and a promise to send the prophet Elijah before the “Day of the Lord” (4:4-6) whereas the Gospel of Matthew begins with a genealogy of “Jesus the Messiah” (1:1), describes his birth of a virgin, the visit of the magi, the flight into Egypt, the slaughter of the innocents, and then we have “Elijah”, or John the Baptist preaching in the wilderness. If you use approaches one or two you want to read Luke-Acts together, but if you read it canonically you know that John recreates the contexts of Matthew, Mark, and Luke and ends the fourfold Gospel transitioning to Acts which moves through the sequence of three main figures—Jesus to Peter to Paul—which then escorts the reader into Romans, the gateway and interpretive key to the Pauline corpus. Canonically Matthew transitions readers from the Old Testament to the fulfillment of the Old Testament, Jesus. Acts transitions from Jesus to his authoritative apostles, including Paul, and validates the Pauline corpus that comes next (I owe these insights to Brevard Childs).

Is there a way (singular) to approach the Gospels? Pennington will suggest “no” if you are a Christian. I concur. If you are a Christian willing to discuss the “historian’s Jesus” then you must enter that language game knowing what you can and cannot say and prove about Jesus. The goal and aim is to show that some really important things can be said about Jesus, even through the limitations of modern critical historiography, e.g., Jesus was a first century Jew; Jesus was remembered as a miracle worker and an exorcist; Jesus was crucified; Jesus’ followers did not disperse but became convinced for some reason that the eschatological resurrection of the dead has an “already, but not yet” exception in Jesus of Nazareth and they were willing to die for their believe. All of this is fantastically interesting, but you can’t secure the confession that the Spirit has raised Jesus from the dead, or that Jesus has been made Lord and Christ, or that Jesus is the Logos of God, or that Jesus is the second person of the one God as Trinity.

I think the historical-critical method is immensely valuable, as does Pennington, but it does have limitations. It is a matter of epistemology (what can we “know” through the restraints of academic historiography?), rather than objective truth (the dozens upon dozens of historical Jesus models you will find should be sufficient evidence of this). Sometimes the use of the Gospels to get “Behind the Text” to the historical Jesus misleads us into misreading the Gospels themselves. We ignore the message of the evangelists about Jesus for some piece of solid footing upon which we can reconstruct Jesus. Again, this is good and necessary in certain venues, but it doesn’t determine truth.

Likewise, the third approach tells us a bit about how Christians should read Scripture as Christians in the ancient-to-contemporary community of the faithful. If we use the historical critical approach we may conclude that Mark as the earliest Gospel shows no interest in a virgin birth, so he did not know about it or (from a more skeptical view) the myth had not been invented when Mark was composed. Matthew received or invented the tradition somewhere. Luke received it somewhere, maybe from Matthew. John’s Logos Christology doesn’t need a virgin birth as long as you affirm that Jesus is the Son of God come from God the Father in heaven. A canonical/theological reading realizes that Mark doesn’t need the virgin birth if it doesn’t fit the literary message because the Spirit has provided this proclamation in Matthew and Luke, already, and that John’s Logos Christology should be interpreted canonically, meaning, the Logos of God entered this world through the virgin birth—this is the beginning of how Christians discuss Christology in the language of faith.

All three approaches have value. Where we Christians struggle at times is realizing that these different approaches are different language games sometimes intended for a variety of audiences. When we try to use the historical-critical method apologetically to “prove” something like the doctrine of the virgin birth we have gone the wrong direction, not because it didn’t happen in space-time history, but because historical-critical methodology includes the presupposition of methodological naturalism, something that can never “discover” a virgin birth anymore than one may have been able to discover Jesus was born of a virgin if his DNA was studied to examine the genetics of his “father”. We can believe in the doctrine of the virgin birth from a confessional perspective, and we may have decent reasons for believing it happened historically (e.g., Matthews awkward use of Isaiah 7:14 leads me to think Matthew already believed in the doctrine and he sought a passage of Scripture to support it, rather than he happened to read Isaiah 7:14 one day and thought, “This proves Jesus was born of a virgin!”), but we cannot prove it historical-critically, and that is OK. We must recover some comfort with speaking the language of faith and sometimes faith demands that we speak of things catholically, rather than individualistically, as if something can be true if and only if I can verify it through means that make me the final authority, rather than the church and the Scripture of the church.

 


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Jesus’ participation in Yom Kippur.

Yom Kippur (יום הכפרים) begins tonight. This is the most holy day on the Jewish calendar. Also known as “the Day of Atonement” Jews fast, pray, and participate in other rituals of repentance. Texts like Leviticus 23.27-28 mention this day along within narrative context that gives this day meaning. In ancient times this day would have included a major tabernacle/temple sacrifice, something that became impossible after the destruction of the temple in 70 CE.

This morning I read an article by Paula Fredriksen (cheesily) titled, “Yom Kippur: WWJD?” In this article she asks whether Jesus participated in Yom Kippur. There seems to be no reason to assume that he did not. Fredriksen writes,

On Yom Kippur, then, what did Jesus do? We cannot know, of course; but within these historical parameters, we can guess. Jesus fasted and he prayed, together with his community. He took his own measure, mingling regret and resolve. He reflected on the year just past, and looked ahead to the year forthcoming. And as so many of his parables say — indeed as Philo, his contemporary, also said — Jesus took comfort in a gracious god, who welcomed not only the “perfect” but also the penitent.

For some Christians this idea may be discomforting: a humbled, penitent Jesus? Modern Christians would not be alone. One can read the account of Jesus’ baptism in the Gospel of Mark (1.9-11) followed by that of Matthew (3.13-17). Matthew depicts John as being quite uncomfortable with the idea of baptizing Jesus, asking Jesus to baptize him. It seems that Matthew must give a reason for messiah to be baptized because the baptism of John emphasized repentance, so Jesus says, “…it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.” I am not saying that this conversation did not occur, but assuming Markan Priority it seems that Matthew needed to expand the narrative a bit.

This does show that the idea of Jesus as sinless is an idea that developed quite early. Jesus as the atoning priest who is the sacrifice himself is found in the Pauline Epistles, the Book of Hebrews, the Gospel of John, the Apocalypse: Jesus is the “mercy seat,” the “lamb,” and a “priest in the order of Melchizedek” to name a few images.

I am not denying the orthodox confession that Jesus was without sin. I do think that this is a good example of the different “language games” being used when one does a study of Jesus through the historical-critical lens and when one does this same study through a confessional-dogmatic lens. For those of us who are “both/and” rather than “either/or” this can become quite complicated.


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Jesus’ understanding of Adam: the options.

In my last two post I have discussed Jesus’ view of Adam according to the Gospels: What did Jesus know and how did he know it? and Collins and Enns on the “historicity” of Adam (Pt. 14). It seems to me that these are the options we have when it comes to understanding Jesus’ teachings regarding Adam from Matthew 19.3-9 and Mark 10.2-9:

Jesus’ view of Adam causes us to reevaluate our understanding of Christology, Bibliology, and Anthropology. How do the words of Christ relate to modern science?

(1) Jesus was an average human (not divine nor directly informed by the divine, though maybe quite superior to others as a prophet) and therefore it makes sense that as a first century man he would have been wrong on human origins.  Of course this is not an option for traditional Christians.

(2) Jesus was an average human who was also divine in some sense, but his divinity was so integrated into his humanity that he would have believed things that other first century Jews believed–like a historical Adam–even if he was wrong. This might fit within a Kenosis Christology based on Phil. 2.5-11, but it is hard to reconcile with the Jesus presented in the Gospels, especially the Johannine Jesus who receives his teachings from God the Father.

(3) Jesus used Adam like someone might use “Huck Finn.” We know he wasn’t “real” but he helps serve our purpose if people understand his “character.” In these passages Jesus doesn’t name “Adam” but mentions a first human. That makes it a tad harder to argue for a literary “Adam” (as some do with Paul in Romans 5 and 1 Corinthians 15).

(4) The Evangelists got this one wrong and Jesus never said this nor we don’t know what Jesus thought of Adam. What we find in Matthew and Mark should be attributed to their views, not Jesus’. Of course, this is difficult to argue because we have to have a reason for why we doubt Jesus said this.

(5) Jesus was informed by God through the Spirit as regards what he taught and therefore we should submit to his authority regarding Adam even if we don’t know how this meets modern science. It seems that this could cause problems considering that those affiliated with the Human Genome Project seem to be quite convinced that a “first man” is contrary to evidence. One would have to stand by their Christology assuming that the science of human origins is right about a lot but the “unknown” elements are enough to maintain a “first man.”

(6) Someone might argue along with (5) that modern science gets human origins wrong altogether.

I imagine that there are other variances so feel free to share.


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Collins and Enns on the “historicity” of Adam (Pt. 14).

In my last post (part 13) I relayed Collins’ argument regarding the appearance of Adam and Eve in Second Temple Jewish Literature. In this post I will share his thoughts on Adam and Eve in the Gospels.

Collins does not give much attention to Adam and Eve in the Gospels. He cites Matthew 19.3-9 and Mark 10.2-9 (passages that made it into my post yesterday titled What did Jesus know and how did he know it?) noting that Jesus “ties together Genesis 1:27 (cited in verse 4) and Genesis 2:24 (cited in verse 5)—which indicates, by the way, that he read Genesis 1 and 2 as complementary texts (p. 76).” Of course, Jesus is using the Genesis narrative to establish his teachings on marriage and divorce in light of the contemporary debate among his fellow Jews. Jesus ground his response “in the beginning” indicating that he understood the Genesis narrative to be literally true (or so it seems).

Another statement that I mentioned in my post yesterday is noted by Collins: Jesus seems to assume the historicity of Abel (from Genesis 4.8), the son of Adam, in Matthew 23.35 and Luke 11.51 (pp. 76-77).

In John 8.44 Jesus does not mention Adam, but he does say that his opponents of of their “father the devil” who was a “murder from the beginning” and “a liar and the father of lies.” This seems to equate Satan with the serpent in Eden (p. 77).

Collins’ concluding remarks:

“Hence it is fair to say that the Gospel writers portray Jesus as someone who believed both that Adam and Eve were actual people, and that their disobedience changed things for us their descendants (p. 78).”

I found this lack of coverage somewhat unfortunate. Collins assumes that the “face value” of the text is so obvious that all that he needs to do is mention it to suffice as an argument. I have mentioned yesterday’s post twice now and I think it is sufficient to say that the discussion can become far more complex.

For instance, one could attribute these sayings to the Evangelists arguing that Jesus himself did not say them. I see no reason to assume this, but it could be proposed. Or it could be argued as some have with Paul that the theological point remains even if the “scientific” or “historical” assumptions are incorrect. Or someone could say as Kenton Sparks has said that the incarnation allows Jesus to have “got it wrong.” Maybe Collins finds these arguments too extreme or absurd to address them, but then why write this book? Or maybe he has never heard them, but that seems unlikely.

In the next post I will introduce readers to Collins thoughts on Adam and Eve in the Pauline Epistles and the rest of the New Testament. Then I will return to Peter Enns’ book asking how he interprets the Old and New Testament mentions of Adam and Eve.


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Jesus from resurrection to ascension.

What did Jesus do between the resurrection and the ascension?

The Ascension of Christ.

In the Gospel of Mark we have the angelic being (a young man in 16.5) informing the disciples that he will meet them in Galilee.

In the Gospel of Matthew Jesus greets the women himself commanding that they tell the other disciples that he will meet them in Galilee (28.10) confirming the message of the angel they met at the tomb (28.7). The disciples meet Jesus in Galilee and they worship him. Jesus informs them that he has received “all power in heaven and earth” and gives them what we call “the Great Commission” to make disciples of the nations (28.19). Then he informs them that he will be with them “even to the end of the age.”

In the Gospel of Luke Jesus appears to two men on the way to Emmaus. He explains how Messiah had to suffer as he did. He joins them for dinner, blesses the breaking of the bread, becomes apparent then disappears (24.13-35). At another point he randomly appears in the midst of the disciples offering them the opportunity to touch his wounds to see that it was him. Then he shared some fish with them (24.36-42). This is followed by another lesson about himself from Scripture with the promise of “power from on high.” (24.43-49) He leads them “as far as Bethany,” blesses them, and ascends into heaven (24.50-51).

In the Book of Acts the story continues with additional details: Jesus was present for forty days doing wonders and teaching about the Kingdom of God, he commanded that the disciples wait in Jerusalem until the promise arrives which he clarifies is the coming Spirit, he tells them that they will be his witnesses, and he ascends into heaven (1.1-9).

In the Gospel of John Jesus appears to Mary Magdalene. She thinks he is the gardener before he says her name and she recognizes him. She tries to cling to him but he says he must go to the Father (20.11-18). Jesus appears to his disciples randomly in a closed room and he offers the disciple Thomas the opportunity to verify his identity by touching his wounds (20.19-29). Our last scene with Jesus is on the shores of Galilee where he appears, tells the disciples how to catch fish, eats a meal with them, and has a long chat with the Apostle Peter about his future (chapter 21).

The Apostle Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15.5-7 that Jesus was seen by Cephas (Peter), then the twelve, then five hundred disciples at once, then his brother James, then the rest who were called “apostles,” then to Paul himself “as one untimely born” which appears to have been after the ascension (at least the Book of Acts outlines it). This passage alone does not divide between Jesus’ appearances before the ascension and afterward, though Paul’s unique designation seems to imply that he saw his encounter with Jesus to be unique, so maybe this means the others saw Jesus before his ascension? In Galatians 2.9 he calls James, Cephas (Peter), and John “pillars” which may be further indication of their primary position as post-resurrection witnesses.

What similarities do we see? We find Jesus appearing to women first in all the Gospels, though the list of women are not exactly the same. We find Jesus being difficult to recognize on some occasions. Jesus can appear and disappear like a non-physical being though he eats food and he can be touched like a physical being. He invites people to see the wounds from his crucifixion indicating some sort of continuation between the body pre-resurrection and post-resurrection. He spends time with various groups, often in Galilee, and these visits seems to be “commissioning” like acts. He returns to God the Father in the Lukan and Johannine accounts, which the Pauline Epistles support elsewhere when speaking of his parousia as do the Johannine Epistles when addressing his “appearing.” In the Catholic Epistles (e.g. 2 Peter 3.1-9) this return seems to have become a central doctrine and a return indicates a departure.

Each story contains unique elements. Some things seem assumed (e.g. Luke-Acts is the only work that details the ascension). Overall we are told of a Jesus who is very much like his pre-resurrection self (eating, being touched, scares from wounds) yet very different (hard to recognize, appearing and disappearing, endowed with exceptional power and authority, able to transition into the heavens).