Near Emmaus


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Sex for survival and Jewish women disciples as research topics

51BlXK%2BkO0L._SY300_Last week I mentioned how Douglas Estes suggests in his book The Questions of Jesus in John: Logic, Rhetoric, and Persuasive Discourse that the the function of questions (non-declaratives) in Paul’s writings or the Synoptic Gospels may be ripe for further research (see Questions and question-asking as a potential thesis/dissertation focus). I have two more ideas for students needing guidance. Both come from Joan E. Taylor’s The Immerser: John the Baptist within Second Temple Judaism.

First, Taylor notes in a discussion on Matthew 21:31-32 that Jesus speaks of toll collectors and prostitutes entering the Kingdom ahead of the chief priests and elders. She investigates whether or not John the Baptist would have been known to tell prostitutes to reform certain behaviors like he told soldiers while not telling prostitutes that their profession was to be abandoned completely. She writes of prostitutes encountering John (p. 120),

“Prostitutes would have had to indicate in some way that they had borne good fruit worthy of repentance. Were they also to continue being prostitutes? This is an interesting question. The rabbis clearly considered prostitution sinful, but in ancient Israel prostitution was not unlawful under all circumstances. A father was not to prostitute his daughter (Lev. 19:29), though he was allowed to sell her as a concubine (Exod. 21:7). A priest was forbidden to marry a prostitute or a divorced woman, and a priest’s daughter who became a prostitute was to be burned (Lev. 21:7-9), but the rule for priests was not the rule for everyone. Prostitution was certainly frowned upon (Tob. 4:12; Prov. 7:9-23), but there was no specific law forbidding it. Certain noble prostitutes appear in Scripture–Rahab,for example (Josh. 2:1; 6:25). Samson visited one (Judg. 16:1). Prostitutes could appeal to the king for judgment (1 Kgs. 3:16-18), and they walked openly in the streets (Isa. 23:16). There were probably large numbers of prostitutes in Israel near to Roman military garrisons (Josephus, Ant. 20.356; cf. b. Sabb. 33b; b. Pesah. 113b). The idea that prostitutes could be righteous would nevertheless be shocking. The saying of Jesus in Matt. 21:31 is designed to play on the shock value of the statement. Yet would John, whose ethical standards were extremely high, have allowed that such women could be accepted by God upon immersion, if they, somehow, ‘bore good fruit’? Did he advise ethical conduct within their profession? What kind of advice would have have given to these women, if indeed we are to imagine that he objected only to abuses within their profession?”

Now, Taylor herself concludes, “It is highly unlikely that John thought professional prostitutes capable of living righteously while still keeping to prostitution.” She observes that the word זנה was used to described harlots and זונה is used of women who have committed a variety of sexual sins. The word πόρνη is used to translate these idea in the LXX and it appears in Matthew 21:31 (αἱ πόρναι). There is a connection between Jesus’ words and this OT concept of prostitutes, or women identified primarily by sexual sins committed outside the marriage covenant. This leads Taylor to ask (p. 121),

“Even if professional prostitutes are referred to in relation to John, it should be remembered that in a country of extreme poverty, in which women were a vulnerable group, prostitution proper might have been the only way of surviving for women who were divorced, widowed, or somehow on their own in need of money. The word could also refer to a woman who, though living with a man, was not married to him, that is, to a woman who was maintained by a man without a formal marriage contract. A woman could very easily earn the reputation of being a “prostitute,” even if she were not actually earning money for sex. In the story of Jesus’ meeting with the Samaritan women [sic], he refers to the man she is living with as her “husband,” to which she replies she has none. He then notes that indeed she has had seven “husbands,” though in fact the one she is living with now is not her real husband (John 4:16-18). In common appraisal, this unmarried and sexually active woman would have been considered a prostitute. Interestingly, in this story, Jesus does not advise her to go and “sin no more” (cf. the adulterous women [sic] of John 8:1-11). This subject is clearly one that requires more study…”

A few observations:

(1) One could study the role of women who had negative reputations based on their sexual activity among first century Jews. What differentiated prostitutes/harlots from unmarried, sexually active women who depended upon a man for their survival. In the patriarchal culture of the time there were few options for a woman who did not have a husband or another man to care for her.

(2) How did Jews handle the ethical problem of telling a woman to stop having sex for money if that was her only option?

(3) How does this impact our reading of early Christianity’s emphasis on caring for widows?

Second, Taylor observes (pp. 122-123),

“…Matt. 21:31-32 is the only specific mention of women among the disciples of John. This is important, because discipleship in later Judaism and in Graeco-Roman philosophy was typically a male preserve. Two key exceptions to this norm were found elsewhere in Judaic culture, in the community of Therapeutae living by the Mareotic Lake near Alexandria (Philo, On the Contemplative Life) and in the community of disciples of Jesus (see, e.g. Acts 8:3; 9:2, 36). Again, this subject requires greater study, but it should be noted here that women were probably among the disciples of John, and were, like the men, immersed after undergoing a period of instructions

I should clarify that Taylor establishes that people who came to be baptized by John were likely taught by John for some time as concerns fidelity to the Law prior to returning to their communities. If prostitutes came for baptism then these women received instruction making these women disciples.

A couple more observations:

(1) One could research Taylor’s claim that baptism is connected to discipleship in the community of the Baptist.

(2) Another area worth exploring would be the uniqueness of being a woman disciple in the ancient world. What did this do to the early Jesus movement? How would it have been perceived by the surrounding culture? What does it mean to be a woman disciples in juxtaposition with being a male disciple?

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The Great Commission from the Son of Man

imgresCraig A. Evans on Matthew 28:18-19 in Matthew (NCBC), 483:

“Jesus states, ‘All authority on heaven and earth have been given to me” (v. 18). Reference to being given authority in heaven and on earth recalls the Son of Man in Dan 7:13-14, who in heaven was given ‘authority’ and authority later claimed ‘on earth’ (cf. Matt 9:6, ‘the Son of Man has authority on earth’; Matt 21:23, ‘By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?’; Matt 7:29, ‘he taught them as one having authority’). The heavenly authority of Jesus is such that he even commands angels (cf. Matt 16:27, ‘the Son of man is to come with his angels in the glory of the Father’; 24:31; 25:31, ‘the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him’).

“The ‘authority’ here in Matt 28:18 probably alludes to the authority granted to the ‘Son of Man’ in Dan 7:14: ‘And royal authority was given to him…his authority is an everlasting authority’ (NETS). The risen Jesus can speak of his authority ‘in heaven’ because that is where the authority was granted –in heaven and in the very presence of God. The claim to have authority ‘on earth’ recalls Jesus’ earlier demonstration that he indeed does possess this authority, which he announced on the occasion of healing the paralyzed man (cf. Matt 9:6, ‘the Son of Man has authority on earth’).”

Quite the imagery: the Son of Man figure receives authority from the Ancient of Days and authoritatively commissions his disciples to make disciples of all the nations. In Daniel 7 the Son of Man figure is given the Kingdoms. Jesus has been given the Kingdoms, so he instructs his disciples to inform the Kingdoms that there has been a change. This seems to be underpinned by Psalm 2 as well where God choses his King and the nations prepare their defense against him, yet in this Gospel the King expects his disciples to find loyalist among the nations who will declare their allegiance to the King.

 


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Matthew 13:52—The (Second) Littlest Parable

The other day as I was skimming through Jesus’s parables in Matthew, I noticed this odd little text:

51 Συνήκατε ταῦτα πάντα; λέγουσιν αὐτῷ· Ναί.

52 ὁ δὲ εἶπεν αὐτοῖς· Διὰ τοῦτο πᾶς γραμματεὺς μαθητευθεὶς τῇ βασιλείᾳ⸃ τῶν οὐρανῶν ὅμοιός ἐστιν ἀνθρώπῳ οἰκοδεσπότῃ ὅστις ἐκβάλλει ἐκ τοῦ θησαυροῦ αὐτοῦ καινὰ καὶ παλαιά.

53 καὶ ἐγένετο ὅτε ἐτέλεσεν ὁ Ἰησοῦς τὰς παραβολὰς ταύτας, μετῆρεν ἐκεῖθεν.

51[Jesus asked them], “Have you understood all these things?”
They say to him, “Yes.”
52But he said to them,
“Therefore every scribe who has become a disciple of the Kingdom of the Heavens is likened to a man—the master of a house—who pulls out from his treasury new things and old things.
53And when Jesus had finished these parables, he went away from that place.

Strangely, I had never heard this before. Ever. Not in church, not in my undergraduate studies, and not in my graduate work in New Testament. Klyne Snodgrass, in his massive and comprehensive volume on the parables of Jesus, grants only a cursory glance at the text, offering subtle hints that one may not technically count this saying as parabolic in nature.[1] But the text is clearly a parable, as indicated by the final clause offered by v.53, which seems to include the preceding verse as belonging among the other parables. So not surprisingly, this easily overlooked analogy tacked onto the very end of Jesus’s parabolic discourse caught my attention and sparked my curiosity. Though it’s not the shortest parable—that distinction goes to the Parable of the Leaven in Mt. 13:33 (19 Greek words)—it actually comes quite close, with the “meat” of the verse occupying only 22 words in the Greek text. It is also unique to the Matthean tradition; Ulrich Luz suggests that vv.51-52 may have in fact been created by the author of Matthew, though the “new vs. old” trope is found elsewhere and has probably been incorporated into the parable as Matthew presents it (see Mk 2:21-22, Mt. 9:16-17, and Lk 5:36-37).[2]

The verb choice for what exactly the master of the house does with his treasure is also strange. ekballei, literally “to throw/cast out,” brings to mind the image of throwing away or discarding. John Nolland offers the following explanation: “The imagery is of disposal, not of display. This scribe is a discipling disciple: the treasure he has gained is a treasure he passes out to others.”[3]

Cyril of Alexandria (Fragment 172), Origen (Commentary on Matthew 10.14), and Augustine (Sermon 74.5) all suggest that Matthew is offering a juxtaposition of the “old” way of the Jewish scribes (the Old Testament) with the “new” way of Christ in the imminent Kingdom of the Heavens (the New Testament).[4] Though I disagree with the allegorical nature of these patristic interpretations (particularly that of Cyril—after all, there was no developed New Testament canon at the time Matthew was written), I do feel that the likeliest interpretation of the parable is that Matthew is bringing together the law and the gospel, intending for them to work in tandem in the process of discipleship. Jesus frequently utilizes “both/and” rhetoric throughout the Gospels (“I have come not to abolish the law…”), and in this brief little parable Matthew portrays Jesus encouraging the use of the new without leaving the old behind in the storeroom. Discipleship is a holistic endeavor that requires rummaging around in the treasury, pulling out the new and the old, and dispensing one’s possessions (wisdom, knowledge, memories) to those who may benefit from them. This parable also illustrates well the reading and interpreting process of hermeneutics—when considering a new text, the reader brings to it his or her entire history to aid the reader in understanding.

And then there’s Augustine:

The learned scribe is now in the Kingdom of God, bringing forth from his storeroom not new things only and not old things only. For if he should bring forth new things only or old things only, he is not a learned scribe in the Kingdom of God presenting from his storeroom things new and old. If he says these things and does not do them, he brings them forth from his teaching office, not from the storeroom of his heart. We then say, Those things which are brought forth from the old are enlightened through the new. We therefore come to the Lord that the veil may be removed. (from Sermon 74.5)[5]

[1] See Klyne R. Snodgrass, Stories With Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008). 45, 173.

[2] Ulrich Luz, Matthew 8–20. Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001). 285.

[3] John Nolland, The Gospel of Matthew: A Commentary on the Greek Text. The New International Greek Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005). 571.

[4] Manlio Simonetti, ed. Matthew 1–13. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament, Vol. 1a (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2001). 290-91.

[5] Ibid, 291.


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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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The Massacre of the Innocents: did it happen and does it matter?

The Massacre of the Innocents in Matthew 2:13-18.

The Massacre of the Innocents in Matthew 2:13-18.

James McGrath and Tony Jones have engaged in a blog discussion over the historicity of the “Massacre of the Innocents” as described in Matthew 2:13-18. For some, this may be unattractive because it seems like these sort of topics are discussed ad nauseum, especially around Christmas and Easter, but I think this particular debate is interesting and it may be worth your time to read. Why? McGrath and Jones are discussing the historicity of the narrative because of the contemporary events that occurred last Friday in Newtown, CT. Many have connected the story of the Massacre of the Innocents to the killing of twenty children at Sandy Hook Elementary School because the Massacre of the Innocents is a “Christmas story” in the sense that Herod is described as having ordered for all the children near Bethlehem be killed because his conversation with the visiting Magi from the east lead him to think that another “king of the Jews” had been born there, one who would threaten his reign. In the narrative the one born in Bethlehem is Jesus, and though he escapes to Egypt with his parents due to angelic intervention, the other children in the area are killed.

McGrath wrote the provoking post, “Why I’m Glad the Infancy Narrative isn’t Literally True”, in which he expresses concern with a narrative where an angel would warn one family of impending doom, but not the others. This seems to McGrath to be quite unjust. Why couldn’t the angel have told all the families, saving far more children? Since McGrath finds this story improbable historically he expresses relief that in fact Matthew’s insensitive narrative is something we can ignore, for it doesn’t really tell us about how God acts in the midst of tragedy, merely how Matthew mistakingly depicts God as acting.

James McGrath

James McGrath

McGrath has a variety of reasons for denying, or strongly doubting, the historicity of the event: it is ignored in the Gospel of Luke, it is not mentioned in any other sources, it appears to be motivated by the author’s desire to place Jesus in Egypt so that he can be a “new Israel” with a “new Exodus”. Personally, I don’t find these points to be as devastating a critique as McGrath, especially since (1) the actions fit the Herod we know from other sources; (2) I think scholars often invert Matthew’s exegetical approach depicting him as having read Scripture in order to find events to narrate whereas the peculiarity of Matthew’s exegesis leads me to think he had existent traditions through which he read the text connecting events to Scripture. In other words, I think Matthew had a tradition that Herod killed the children while seeking Jesus and this lead him to read Scripture to see if there was any “foretelling” of such an event. This doesn’t mean that Matthew’s information was correct, but I think it does force us to stop and think before denouncing Matthew as someone who created wild mythologies about the life of Jesus while reading the prophets.

While not to deny the quagmires of theodicy, I don’t feel as troubled as McGrath by this text’s depiction of God’s favoritism toward Jesus. McGrath doesn’t seem to give much thought to the theological reasons for why God may have intervened to save Jesus, the particular favor and role of Jesus in the plan of God, and how if God intervened to stop all evil it would be the eschaton! If he did think about these things, he dismissed them, quickly. As hard as this may be to swallow, Jesus’ life was more important than others, theologically, as is his death at the end of the story. If God saves the world through Jesus then we have to rethink the theodicy of this passage. If God does not save the world through Jesus, then we may have reason for demanding that God be egalitarian about who he rescues from death.

Tony Jones has different qualms with McGrath, which he expresses in “James McGrath is Wrong: Herod Really Did Massacre the Innocents”. He sees this as a liberal side-stepping of the problematic parts of Scripture. Jones is thankful that the Bible contains stories like the Massacre of the Innocents because it matches real life. Some people survive, others die, and God’s role in the world is quite messy. For Jones, McGrath’s exegetical move silences the victims. It doesn’t allow the reader to wrestle with the injustice of the world because the reader can say, “Well, thank God that didn’t actually happen!”

Tony Jones

Tony Jones

The strength of Jones’ argument is it does expose what many “liberal” or “progressive” types like to ignore: there is no objectivity. Even when doing historical work we are prone to accept and reject evidence based on presuppositions and motivations. Many historians would like to think that they “just read the text”, but no one does this. The weakness of Jones’ argument is doesn’t address some of the critiques of the event’s historicity presented by McGrath.

In McGrath’s response titled, “Am I Wrong About the Massacre of the Innocents” this is the direction he takes the conversation. Now, McGrath does use a slight of hand: he says Jones is asking a “theological” question while he is asking a “historical” one. Anyone who read McGrath’s first post should be aware that this is a false dichotomy. Both are asking theological and historical questions. Jones failed to give the historical questions enough attention. That is probably a more accurate assessment. McGrath says the following:

“Ironically, because Tony has justifiable concerns that the text not be misused for theological ends, Tony ends up ignoring the crucial historical question, which has to be paramount when we ask what did or did not occur. We do not say that the Holocaust occurred because otherwise it would let God off the hook. We say that it occurred because the evidence is clear and undeniable, and includes people who lived through it. And if we ask whether Israelites invaded Canaan and slaughtered Canaanites, the answer to that question must be based on the historical evidence, not because it either does or does not let God or Israelites off the hook.”

This is a fair criticism and it will be worth watching to see if Jones aims to address the lurking questions that need to be answered if one is going to demand that the Massacre of the Innocents happened in space-time. (FWIW, this is not a debate between a “liberal” and a “conservative”, so Jones won’t appeal to something like the inerrancy, infallibility, or trustworthiness of Scripture. For those who would approach it from this angle the question of why we should affirm the historicity of these events lingers still.)


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Parallel genealogies: Matthew 1:1-17 and Luke 3:23-38

Below are the genealogies of Matthew 1:1-17 and Luke 3:23-38. Advent season is a good time to browse these lists together for a variety of reasons. First, it let’s us see what we can find in common, e.g. both include Abraham, David, and Joseph. Second, it helps us see what each author sought to emphasize by examining the differences (remember, these aren’t strict genealogies like one might expect, but Christological in aim). Third, it forces us to ask questions about their literary design, e.g. Matthew’s sets of fourteen, his choice to begin with Abraham, his inclusion of Gentiles women and Luke’s choice to begin with Joseph, his decision to end with Adam “the Son of God”, his placement in the narrative at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry in contrast with Matthew’s use of the genealogy to open his Gospel. 

What about these genealogies stand out for you?

Matthew 1:1-17   

1 The record of the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham:

2 Abraham was the father of Isaac, Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers.

3 Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar, Perez was the father of Hezron, and Hezron the father of Ram.

4 Ram was the father of Amminadab, Amminadab the father of Nahshon, and Nahshon the father of Salmon.

5 Salmon was the father of Boaz by Rahab, Boaz was the father of Obed by Ruth, and Obed the father of Jesse.

6 Jesse was the father of David the king.

David was the father of Solomon by Bathsheba who had been the wife of Uriah.

7 Solomon was the father of Rehoboam, Rehoboam the father of Abijah, and Abijah the father of Asa.

8 Asa was the father of Jehoshaphat, Jehoshaphat the father of Joram, and Joram the father of Uzziah.

9 Uzziah was the father of Jotham, Jotham the father of Ahaz, and Ahaz the father of Hezekiah.

10 Hezekiah was the father of Manasseh, Manasseh the father of Amon, and Amon the father of Josiah.

11 Josiah became the father of Jeconiah and his brothers, at the time of the deportation to Babylon.

12 After the deportation to Babylon: Jeconiah became the father of Shealtiel, and Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel.

13 Zerubbabel was the father of Abihud, Abihud the father of Eliakim, and Eliakim the father of Azor.

14 Azor was the father of Zadok, Zadok the father of Achim, and Achim the father of Eliud.

15 Eliud was the father of Eleazar, Eleazar the father of Matthan, and Matthan the father of Jacob.

16 Jacob was the father of Joseph the husband of Mary, by whom Jesus was born, who is called the Messiah.

17 So all the generations from Abraham to David are fourteen generations; from David to the deportation to Babylon, fourteen generations; and from the deportation to Babylon to the Messiah, fourteen generations. [1]

 

Luke 3:23-38       

23 When He began His ministry, Jesus Himself was about thirty years of age, being, as was supposed, the son of Joseph, the son of Eli,

24 the son of Matthat, the son of Levi, the son of Melchi, the son of Jannai, the son of Joseph,

25 the son of Mattathias, the son of Amos, the son of Nahum, the son of Hesli, the son of Naggai,

26 the son of Maath, the son of Mattathias, the son of Semein, the son of Josech, the son of Joda,

27 the son of Joanan, the son of Rhesa, the son of Zerubbabel, the son of Shealtiel, the son of Neri,

28 the son of Melchi, the son of Addi, the son of Cosam, the son of Elmadam, the son of Er,

29 the son of Joshua, the son of Eliezer, the son of Jorim, the son of Matthat, the son of Levi,

30 the son of Simeon, the son of Judah, the son of Joseph, the son of Jonam, the son of Eliakim,

31 the son of Melea, the son of Menna, the son of Mattatha, the son of Nathan, the son of David,

32 the son of Jesse, the son of Obed, the son of Boaz, the son of Salmon, the son of Nahshon,

33 the son of Amminadab, the son of Admin, the son of Ram, the son of Hezron, the son of Perez, the son of Judah,

34 the son of Jacob, the son of Isaac, the son of Abraham, the son of Terah, the son of Nahor,

35 the son of Serug, the son of Reu, the son of Peleg, the son of Heber, the son of Shelah,

36 the son of Cainan, the son of Arphaxad, the son of Shem, the son of Noah, the son of Lamech,

37 the son of Methuselah, the son of Enoch, the son of Jared, the son of Mahalaleel, the son of Cainan,

38 the son of Enosh, the son of Seth, the son of Adam, the son of God. [2]

 


[1] New American Standard Bible: 1995 Update, Mt 1:1–17 (LaHabra, CA: The Lockman Foundation, 1995).

[2] New American Standard Bible: 1995 Update, Lk 3:23–38 (LaHabra, CA: The Lockman Foundation, 1995).