Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Ehrman, Chapter 11, Acts of the Apostles

The Acts of the Apostles is the second part of a two part work which began with the Gospel of Luke. Together the two books comprise 25% of the content of the New Testament, the largest contribution of any one author. The Apostle Paul wrote more individual writings that were included in the New Testament, but all together they are still less than 25% of the New Testament.

Without doubt, the book of Acts is composed along the lines of an ancient history, as Ehrman indicates. I have often wondered if the idea that it follows the model of pagan history writing really fits Acts, even though Ehrman seems sure that it does. In the ancient world, writing was often done according to appropriate models. In the case of Acts, it would seem to me that the most likely model would be similar writings about the history of God's dealings with humanity in the Jewish tradition, of which the books 1 & 2 Samuel and 1 & 2 Kings in the Old Testament would be the best examples. Luke 1:1-4 demonstrates that this author is capable of composing in literary Greek, but the remainder of Luke is written in rather simplified prose. Acts contains more occurrences of literary features than the Gospel, but the closest parallel to the style of writing we find in Acts is the Greek version of the Old Testament history books.

The book of Acts is the story of the beginning of the Christian movement as it emerged following Jesus' resurrection. Of course, any history tells its story from a particular slant and Acts is no different. Peter and Paul were not the only major players in early Christianity, but they get the primary attention in Acts. The fact that the New Testament also includes numerous letters by Paul, means that his theological viewpoint became the dominant perspective in the church in the next 100-200 years, and a history of the early church in which he is a major player would be appropriately included. We have no idea if there were other Gospels or other histories of Christianity besides the canonical four plus Acts written in the same time frame (some scholars believe the Gospel of Thomas is old enough to be counted as a competing option), but except for maybe Thomas, the canonical four plus Acts are the oldest surviving historical record we have of Jesus and the early church.

There may be dozens of significant Apostles that were active in early Christianity that we know nothing about. Indeed, we know by inference that in the early years the Jerusalem church played a major role in early Christianity. But that came to an end with the destruction of the temple and upheaval caused by the Jewish revolt against Rome, 66-70 CE. The church in Jerusalem ceased to have a major role in Christianity until almost 100 years later. By that point the church was a Greek speaking church and Aramaic speaking Christianity had ceased to exist (at least as a language used in worship), even in Jerusalem.

In the opening section of Acts, chapter 1 verses 7 & 8 present the theme of this book, spreading the message about Jesus first in Judea, then in Samaria and then to the ends of the earth (which in this case means Rome, as that is where the story concludes). The book of Acts is about the spread of Christianity in its early years, primarily as this occurred through the Apostles Peter and Paul. The opening pages show the initial growth of the church via the Apostles' preaching (Acts chap. 2) and the resistance they encountered (Acts chap. 5).

In Acts chap. 6 we see a tension that was indicative of the difficulties of a church growing rapidly and in ways the original members had not anticipated. The church was attracting numerous converts from Greek speaking Judaism (Hellenists) in addition to Aramaic speaking Judaism (Hebrews), and the coexistence was testy because of the language issue. But things only get more complicated as the message of Jesus spreads. With the persecution that arose after the death of Stephen (a Greek speaking Jewish Christian evangelist), some of the Greek speaking Jewish Christians get run out of town and preach in Samaria and make numerous converts there (see Acts chap. 8). But this seems questionable to the church leaders in Jerusalem(since Samaritans were despised by most Jews), so representatives from the Jerusalem church go to Samaria to validate the mission to the Samaritans. Here we have the first instance of Christianity stepping outside of Judaism since most Jews did not consider Samaritans to be Jews, even though the Samaritans believed their religion faithfully followed the Law of Moses.

Christianity in Acts then spreads next to non-Jews (pagans or Gentiles, take your pick as to what you wish to call non-Jews) when Peter is summoned to preach to a Roman army officer named Cornelius who is presented a someone very sympathetic to Judaism (Acts 10). Peter then is told to justify to the other Apostles in Jerusalem his reaching out to pagans with the Christian message(Acts 11), in particular Peter must justify the fact that he violated the kosher rules by eating with non-Jews. While Acts presents this story in retrospect as a matter on whether Peter was justified in breaking the kosher rules, this really whitewashes the major issue which is much more starkly stated in Galatians 2 and politely put in Acts 15, and that is what must have been a heated debate within Jerusalem Christianity whether or not to recognize as being Christian - believers who did not follow the Jewish lifestyle. At first, for pagans to become Jewish Christians, that would mean being circumcised and adopting Jewish kosher and Sabbath rules. It is never reported that Cornelius is told he must do so. Paul in Galatians 2 considers it a hard won battle that his Christian mission to pagans (without imposing the Jewish Law) was endorsed by the Apostles in Jerusalem (presumably referring to the event mentioned in Acts 15), but in Galatians that hard won concession seems in jeopardy many years later.

It is worth noting that at every important juncture in Acts when the Christian evangelistic mission expands into new areas, it seems necessary to get the approval of the Apostles in Jerusalem. But even if this is true for the author of Acts, at the time of writing it is also a bit of nostalgia, since the Jerusalem church had largely been dispersed by the Jewish-Roman war only a decade before. And it is also worth noting, that when Acts is written, most (maybe all) of the early Apostles have died, the Jerusalem church is small to non-existent and Aramaic speaking Jewish Christianity has largely disappeared. By the time Acts is written (about 80-85 CE), the majority of Christians are converts from paganism and the whole matter of whether or not Christians should keep the Jewish Law is a debate that is in the past. Paul's version of Christianity is the version endorsed by Acts, and that is the direction in which Christianity continued to move.

In Acts chap. 13, "Saul, also known as Paul" becomes the focal point of the narrative. Some people have supposed a connection between Paul's conversion and a name change. But this is most certainly (in my opinion) not the case. Paul was bilingual. He was equally capable of speaking in both Greek and Aramaic. When in Jerusalem (no doubt) he spoke in Aramaic. The best evidence for this is that Paul almost always refers to Peter as Cephas (pronounced Kay-phas, which in Aramaic means - Rocky, the same as Petros means in Greek) (see 1 Corinthians 3:22, 9:5, 15:5; Galatians 1:18, 2:9, 2:11, 2:14). The only place that Paul refers to Peter as Peter is Galatians 2:7-8 in which he refers to the agreement they had. Which means that whenever Paul spoke to Peter face to face he called him by his Aramaic nickname Cephas. So, if Paul uses both Peter's Greek name (Peter) and his Aramaic name (Cephas), which is obviously a matter of working within two different languages, it would seem that the presence in Acts of both a Hebrew (Saul) and a Greek (Paul) name for Paul would also be representative of the need to operate bilingually. What seems the strongest support for this interpretation of the Saul/Paul names is that Paul says he was born a Roman citizen (see Acts 22:28). If so, he would have had to be registered as a child with a Latin name (thus Paulus, which he writes in Greek as Paulos). The introduction of the name Paul in Acts 13:9 makes sense as it is at this point that Paul has begun his missionary work among the pagans (primarily) which will be the focus of the remainder of Acts.

Even though Paul has been commissioned as the Apostle to the nations (Gentiles, pagans, non-Jews, use whatever term you like) he still often begins his evangelistic work in a particular city by first preaching to whatever Jews might be there. That narrative piece (which may have historical merit to it) is employed as a narrative device in Acts to show over and over again that the attempt to proclaim the message of Jesus to Jews is met with rejection, but embraced by the pagans. The best example of this is found in Acts 13:46.

This brings me to a note about the speeches in Acts. One hundred years ago, even the historical skeptics believed the speeches/sermons in Acts represented excerpted examples of early Christian preaching (conservative scholars still believe this). Then a German scholar by the name of Martin Dibelius noticed that regardless of whether the speech was attributed to Peter or Paul it had very similar features and organization. This led Dibelius to postulate that it was the author of Acts who composed these speeches and that they did not represent historical remembrances. The best example of this is to compare Peter's Pentecost speech (Acts 2) and Paul's speech in Pisidian Antioch (Acts 13). Both are preached to predominantly Jewish audiences and there are four interesting similarities that led Dibelius (and most historical critical scholars after him) to conclude the author of Acts is the author of the speeches. First there is a reference to God's activity with his people of long ago (taken from scripture) (compare Acts 2:17-21 & Acts 13:17-22). Secondly there is a reference to the historical situation of Jesus and his rejection by the Jewish people (compare Acts 2:22-24 and Acts 13:23-31). Thirdly there are references to Jewish scripture that are interpreted as prophecy foretelling the coming of Jesus and the events that happened with him (compare Acts 2:25-28, 31, 34-35 and Acts 13:33-35). And fourthly, a call to conversion (compare Acts 2:38-38 and Acts 13:38-40). These similarities have lead most historical critical scholars to focus on these speeches as Lukan inventions and Ehrman is no different in this regard.

A note on the authorship of Acts. Until the 20th century, most scholars believed the author of Acts was a companion of the Apostle Paul. This is based on the so-called "we" passages in which the narrator uses the first person plural in his narration. This first plural narration begins at Acts 16:11 but ends abruptly at 16:16, only to be picked up again at 20:6. This might seem strange, but on closer examination it fits together because the first plural narration stops abruptly in Philippi and then picks up again in Philippi indicating that maybe this does represent an actual first person account of Paul's travels, as the first plural narration is mostly associated with sea travel to Philippi and then from Philippi to Jerusalem. Modern scholars debate whether this is an actual first person account (which I am inclined to accept) or an interesting narrative device contrived by the author. Traditionally the source has been attributed to the Luke mentioned in Colossians 4:14 and by inference to say that this Luke is the author of both the Gospel and Acts. Modern historical scholars do not believe there is any validity to this tradition. And if the "we" passages in Acts are an actual first person account, there is no way to determine who is the author of these passages from the information we have now. It would all be speculation.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Ehrman, Chapter 8, John

The Gospel of John is decidedly different from the other three, which we call the Synoptics. The Gospel of John is different both in terms of its content and the style of writing. As I have mentioned before, most historical critical scholars believe the Gospel of John has no historical value and only makes sense when seen as a theological treatise in narrative form. Indeed, concerns for doctrine can be seen right from the beginning with the introduction, which most scholars call the Prologue (1:1-18). This introduction sets the scene for the entire Gospel because it straightforwardly provides Jesus with pre-existent divine status before becoming human, but also affirms that Jesus is both divine and human (1:1 & 1:14) (Christian theology later used this passage as the basis of the doctrine that Jesus is both fully human and fully divine).

This represents a much more "developed" view of the divine nature of Jesus. The other Gospels may present Jesus as having divine status (some scholars question whether or not the authors of the Synoptic Gospels really believed Jesus was fully divine during his time on earth but maybe only became divine after his resurrection), but John's Gospel insists on an essentially divine nature to the person of Jesus. With this in mind, we will see over and over again how the stories of Jesus in this Gospel reinforce this understanding of the divine nature of Jesus.

An Aside on Ehrman's Method - Once again Ehrman offers us a particular nuance on his methodological approach to a Gospel, this time calling it "Literary-Historical Perspective." But his approach in analyzing John is really only different in degree from the others. Calling it "historical" is a misleading label, since we know Ehrman believes there is no historical value in the Gospel of John. It will definitely be a literary approach, but one that is attune to the theological nuances of the narrative. What we find in the Gospel of John is a narrative presentation of the divine nature of Jesus in human form. The purpose of the Gospel is blatantly evangelistic: "That you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah the Son of God . . . " (John 20:31). So the purpose of this Gospel is not so much to tell a story or provide a biography as to effect a conversion upon the reader/hearer.

There is also a curiosity about this Gospel concerning its style of Greek. It is extremely easy to read. The Gospel of John and the Letters of John are the only writings in the New Testament in which the word order would seem to us to follow what we would consider the sense order of the sentence. In most Greek writings, the word order is based on order of importance of thought, in which the most important clause might be placed first in the sentence, but contain neither the subject nor verb, but rather a subordinate clause containing the thought or idea the author wishes to emphasize. In Greek, the endings on the words tell you what is the subject, the object and the indirect object, and the verbs can be used in ways much more nuanced than is possible in English. But in John, the sentences read a lot like what what we would expect in English, which means that simplicity is emphasized for purposes of clarity and getting the basic point across to the reader.

Of particular interest in John is the emphasis on the miracles that Jesus performs, but they are always called "Signs." Which is a blatant way of saying that the miracle itself is not what is most important, but rather how that miracle points to a greater truth about Jesus. In most cases that "great truth" is in some way related to the divine nature of Jesus and his role as Messiah and the Divine Son of God.

The big scheme of the divine plan of salvation in John is that the the divine son comes down from heaven and returns to heaven. This is well illustrated in the subsequent story that follows the feeding of the 5,000 in chapter 6. Jesus uses that occasion to say that the true bread from heaven is not the manna that Moses provided, but Jesus himself (6:35-38 & 6:51). It is a little curious that Jesus refers to himself here as the "Son of Man" (John 6:27 & 6:62), and it is difficult to know exactly how John intends this title to be understood. The apocalyptic Jesus is not a major part of John's Gospel, perhaps just the opposite. John 5:25 makes it sound like the eternal life begins when a person believes in Jesus, and John 3:18 makes it sound like the divine judgment is pronounced when a person refuses to believe in Jesus. But John 5:26-29 refers to a future judgment for unbelievers, and John 6:39-40 speaks of a future resurrection for believers.

Many historical critical scholars believe the conflicting views on judgment and resurrection can be explained by saying that an original version of the Gospel did not have any future eschatology in it, but was added in a later addition. It is hard to know for sure. But many scholars are also quite sure that the Gospel of John as we have it now is not the only version that ever existed.

Ehrman's discussion on the "sources in John" (see pages 115-118) is a fine presentation of this theory. No historical critical scholar today questions that there are awkward transitions in the narrative in numerous places, that scholars like to refer to as "literary seams" (see page 116). However, there is another approach to this issue that postulates an evolutionary model for the development of this Gospel, on the supposition that the Gospel of John is the product of an evolving tradition about Jesus that developed over decades in a particular (otherwise unknown) faith community, in which the views about Jesus changed (developed, were refined) over time and additions were made to the Gospel that reflect those changes/development of belief and perspective. For instance, on page 117 at the bottom, Ehrman proposes that (within the very lengthy "Farewell Discourse" chapters 13-14 and 18 come from one source and chapters 15-17 come from another source. The developmental theory of the Gospel's composition (what I call an evolutionary model) says that chapters 15-17 represent a later addition to the Gospel. According to this theory, the reason for the literary awkwardness is that the tradition about Jesus in chapters 13-14 and 18 were already revered by the community and could not be altered without doing violence to the community's accepted story about Jesus. Therefore, chapters 15-17 are added as a lump of material rather than woven into the already existing text. If chapters 15-17 represent an addition to an existing Gospel tradition, were these chapters seen by their faith community as a "lost" piece of tradition? Were they a new revelation? We really do not know. However, there is some reason (in my personal opinion) for going with the latter (new revelation, given the emphasis on the Holy Spirit providing missing information in chapter 14:26 & 16:13).

If we look carefully at the Gospel of John, we find a very obvious peculiarity (in comparison with the synoptics), which is the long theological discourses that Jesus engages in. We find these in almost every chapter. Indeed, chapters 13, 14, 15, 16, & 17 are all part of one long extended speech which scholars refer to as the "Farewell Discourse" where Jesus is preparing his disciples for his departure and what to expect after that. The question is, what degree of historical truth was ascribed to these discourses by the faith community that produced this Gospel? Undoubtedly, they were embraced as theologically true. But if they cannot be traced back to the historical Jesus, where did they come from? Some New Testament scholars are of the opinion that for the people who produced John's Gospel these discourses arose from prophetic pronouncements in which "prophets" within that faith community claimed to speak for the risen Jesus and brought to their fellow Christians the truths that Jesus, now the Risen Jesus, was teaching them. The basis for this is taken from John 14:26, "But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I have said to you." It would seem that these Christians believed that the Risen Jesus still spoke to the faith community just as clearly as he spoke to his disciples during his time on earth.

Ehrman mentions the primary proponent of the evolutionary theory of the Gospel in his "Suggestions for Further Reading," which is Raymond Brown and his, The Community of the Beloved Disciple. Curiously, Ehrman does not even mention the primary proponent of the multiple sources theory (Robert Fortna). Perhaps that is because Ehrman wants to present it as his own approach.

Be sure to read over "Jesus and the 'I Am' Sayings" discussion in Box 8.5 (page 123). This is a feature that is unique to John but very clearly emphasizes the divine nature of Jesus. The frequency of these sayings in John makes it clear that this is a literary device intended to emphasize a theological point that is central to John's portrayal of Jesus in this Gospel.

There is one more peculiarity of the Gospel of John I wish to mention. The death of Jesus is never straightforwardly presented as an atoning sacrifice for sins. However, the combination of the statement of John the Baptist at the beginning, "Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world" (1:29) and the fact that in John Jesus is crucified at the same time as the Passover lambs are being slaughtered makes an implicit connection between the two. However, there is a nuance to this we easily overlook. When John the Baptist makes that pronouncement in 1:29, the word sin is in the singular. There is only one sin that Jesus comes to take away: the sin of unbelief. Just as the Gospel of Matthew is never about believing, the Gospel of John is only and always about believing. Which means that maybe for the author(s) of John's Gospel, Jesus' death on the cross might not be an atoning sacrifice after all? But the death of Jesus may be for the author of the Gospel of John a submission to the will and plan of the father in which Jesus knows that his glorification and exaltation are already assured. There is no wavering on the part of John's Jesus. In a strange way, his lifting up on the cross for crucifixion is also his exaltation because the one guarantees the other. This is quite clear in John 12:27-28 and 12:32, in which there is a direct connection between the plan of God, the crucifixion of Jesus and the glorious exaltation of Jesus after his resurrection. The "lifting up" always has a double meaning in John for both crucifixion and exaltation (so as in John 3:14-15).

Overall, Ehrman's chapter on the Gospel of John is an excellent presentation of the basic features of the Gospel of John in terms of the accepted interpretation of most historical critical scholars.

Ehrman, Chapter 7, Luke

The Gospel of Luke is unique in the sense that it does not stand alone but in tandem with the Acts of the Apostles. Both books were written by the same author, and together they comprise 25% of the words in the New Testament, far more than that written by any other author of the New Testament. This connection between Luke and Acts becomes obvious by comparing the introductions to both books, as they were written for a certain Theophilus (means 'friend of God'). Scholars debate whether this might have been an actual person or simply a generic address to the intended readership. It could have been to an individual interested in knowing more about the Christian faith, since sometimes a wealthy individual might commission the writing of a book on a topic he/she wished to learn more about. Another interesting feature of Luke's Gospel is that the introduction (Luke 1:1-4) is written in a polished literary style (you cannot tell it from an English translation), whereas the rest of the Gospel was written in a style reminiscent of the narrative portions of the Greek Old Testament, which is also very much like what is found in Matthew and Mark.

When Ehrman speaks of his "comparative method" he is really not doing anything differently from what he did in his discussion of Mark and Matthew. The differences in approach are much less (in my opinion) than Ehrman thinks he is doing, and more a matter of difference in emphasis than any real shift in method. In all cases Ehrman is making use of a style of literary analysis developed by New Testament scholars over the last 35 years in which the scholar is interested in the literary themes in the Gospel as well as the theological interests of the Gospel's author in which it is typical to look at each Gospel separately and in comparison with each other. While most scholars like to say they are evaluating the merits of each individual Gospel, at the same time it is often helpful to compare Gospels and see what an author chooses to put in or leave out, and how they describe the same event in different ways.

The introduction to Luke's Gospel indicates that the author clearly sees himself functioning in the mode of a historian (according to the norms of ancient historiography, which were not as rigorous as what we expect today). This is evident in his mention of having eye-witness accounts that are used in the composition of the Gospel, as well as believing his work is superior to all that was written before on that topic. Now it is hard to know if this comment is intended to indicate the quality of his sources or (as I think) to assure the person who had commissioned the work that his money is buying the best work on the topic.

Most historical critical scholars treat the first two chapters of the Gospel of Luke as containing mostly legendary material, if it was not created by Luke himself based on Old Testament patterns (compare Mary's song in 1:46-55 with Hannah's song in 1 Samuel 2:1-10). Regarding Luke's genealogy the key feature is that it goes back to Adam, when compared to Matthew which traces Joseph's lineage back to Abraham, modern scholars have long held a consensus that this feature in Luke is pointing toward Jesus as the savior of all humanity, not simply the Jewish savior. Of course, this is especially evident when the second volume (Acts) is taken into consideration. Ehrman does a good job of explaining this on page 100.

Beginning on page 101 Ehrman discusses what he considers to be the overarching theme of the presentation of Jesus in Luke: Jesus the rejected prophet. This theory for interpreting Jesus in Luke has been around for over 20 years, and obviously Ehrman finds it to be most convincing. In Luke, Jesus as the Jewish Messiah does not seem to be important, and the Son of God title does not seem to get much emphasis. As Ehrman points out, Luke portrays Jesus as God's spokesman right from the beginning in Luke 4, and when Jesus gives examples to back up his expectation of rejection ("No prophet is accepted in his hometown," 4:24), he mentions two prophets held in high esteem, Elijah and Elisha (4:25-28). The townspeople, feeling they have been disrespected by their native son, oblige his expectation of rejection by trying to throw him off a precipice at the edge of town (4:29).

Part of the background to this approach to Jesus as a rejected prophet is the parallel with the legends about the Old Testament prophets, that they came to an untimely end, as referred to in Luke 11:49-52 and 13:34-35 ("the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it"). Granted that Matthew also contains these passages. However, when seen in light of the mention of Jesus suffering the same fate as the prophets later in the Gospel at the time he rides to Jerusalem, it becomes clear that the rejection of Jesus is central to Luke's portrayal of Jesus. The theme of rejection of the King appears in the parable of the Pounds(19:14) and in the lament over Jerusalem (19:41-44), which implies that if Jesus had not been rejected the city would not have been destroyed by the Romans.

Another telling feature in Luke's portrayal of Jesus' death are the words spoken by the centurion at the foot of the cross. It Mark he says "Truly this man was God's Son." But in Luke he says, "Certainly this man was innocent" (see Ehrman, page 105, col. 2). As Ehrman states, this alteration brings into question whether or not Luke understood Jesus' death to be an atoning sacrifice (whereas Mark certainly interpreted Jesus' death as an atonement, see Mark 10:45).

Another interesting feature in Luke's crucifixion scene is the statement to one of the two thieves, "Today you will be with me in Paradise" (23:43). While Ehrman does not spend much time talking about what I believe is the dominant theme in the message of Jesus in Luke's Gospel, it comes out clearly here: God's forgiving love for sinful humanity. It is not without reason that the parable of the Prodigal Son is placed in the center of the Gospel 15:11-32); it is the centerpiece of Luke's portrayal of Jesus as the messenger of the God's forgiving love, both in word and deed.

New Testament scholar E.P. Sanders even goes so far as to say that repentance is a theme particular to Luke, as references to human repentance in connection with divine forgiveness occur frequently in Luke and Acts, but mention of repentance occurs rarely elsewhere in the New Testament. I had never given this much thought before reading Sanders on the topic, but he does have a point. Even though repentance is a central doctrine in most Christian theologies, the term and the action of repentance occurs rarely in the New Testament outside of Luke and Acts.

In the 1970's much was written about the social concerns of Jesus in Luke's Gospel, and these concerns certainly come to the fore in the ministry and message of Jesus in Luke. This theme is much more obvious in Luke than in the other Gospels, in large part because that is the main point of the passage from Isaiah from which Jesus reads while in the Nazareth synagogue in Luke 4 (4:18-19). This makes it clear that Luke wants to emphasize that aspect of Jesus' message. Ehrman mentions this emphasis in a section on this topic (page 108, col 2). But Ehrman has (in my opinion) only scratched the surface of what can be said on this topic. In particular, many of the parables of Jesus found only in Luke have as their central theme the use and abuse of money and possessions and putting one's possessions above the needs of others, whereas Jesus' message proclaims that the love of God is best demonstrated in showing loving concern to others, and that a concern for possessions will hinder this. For instance, there are the parable of the Good Samaritan (10:29-37), the parable of the Rich Fool (12:13-21), the parable of the Great Dinner (14:7-24), and of special note, the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (16:19-31). Each of these parables carries a warning that one's possessions can be detrimental to one's spiritual well being. The implied message is that being generous with one's money and possessions towards others in need is the proper attitude for a follower of Jesus to exhibit.

Ehrman, Chapter 6, Matthew

In this chapter, Ehrman addresses the decidedly Jewish character of Matthew's portrayal of Jesus. Now this is in spite of the fact that in Matthew Jesus heaps scorn upon the Pharisees in chapter 23. Even though it is clear that Matthew sees Jesus as the universal savior of the world, he is still the Jewish Messiah in fulfilling that role.

While each of the Gospels recognizes Jesus as the Jewish Messiah, they do so in very different ways. In Matthew, it is clear that one of the main themes is: Jesus is greater than Moses (the Gospel of John makes the same claim but in a much different way). The mention of Jesus' sojourn in Egypt in Matthew 2 makes a parallel to Moses (although the quotation of Hosea 11:1 in Matthew 2:15, "Out of Egypt I have called my son," originally referred to Israel as a people not just Moses or Jesus). The Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) is clearly the giving of a new law, that seems to implicitly supersede that of Moses (both the "antitheses" in Matthew 5:21-48 and setting of a "mountain" all point to the idea that Jesus is a greater law giver than Moses (the setting is actually a hillside by the sea of Galilee) . Even though Jesus does say that he did Not come to abolish the law (Matthew 5:17), the fact that he has come to "fulfill" the law (Matthew 5:17) means that what he offers supersedes what Moses presented to the people Israel. The story of the transfiguration (present in all three synoptic Gospels) is a blatant statement that someone greater than Moses or Elijah (the law-giver and the great prophet) has arrived (Matthew 17:1-8).

Do not put too much stock in the distinction that Ehrman makes between a "literary-historical" analysis of Mark and a "redaction criticism" analysis of Matthew. The way that Ehrman approaches both Gospels is similar; in discussing both Matthew and Mark Ehrman tends toward the use of a literary analysis that has been adapted for Biblical studies and arose out of the analytical approach to biblical criticism that was originally coined by German scholars as editorial criticism, but since the German word for editor is Redactor, in English it came to be called redaction criticism. But when "redaction criticism" was first developed by historical critical scholars in the 1960's, they were simply taking a Gospel Parallels book and (assuming that Matthew and Luke both used Mark), look to see what changes Matthew and Luke made to the parallel passages in Mark, thereby seeking "theological tendencies" in the author's alterations to the text. But when Ehrman looks at the beginning of Matthew in comparison to Mark, he is not examining parallel texts, but rather what literary devices the author has employed in introducing the topic (Jesus), thus technically it is not redaction criticism the way it was originally conceived. But Ehrman's approach does retain the interest in the author's theological biases.

As Ehrman goes to great pains to point out, the groups of 14s in the genealogy betray a desire to make a connection between Jesus and the greats of the history of the people Israel with the symbolic value of well rounded perfection, both in terms of the lineage and the timing; that is, that it happened in that particular generation (remember that 7 is the number of completeness in the Bible). How historically accurate Matthew's genealogy is - is open for debate; but that is of no interest to Ehrman as he is much more interested in the literary function of this genealogy within Matthew's Gospel.

Concerning the birth of Jesus, Ehrman highlights a feature of Matthew's Gospel that occurs infrequently in the other Gospels, the "fulfillment citation." Matthew's Gospel is full of lines where an event in the life of Jesus is portrayed as fulfilling a specific prophecy in the Jewish scriptures. This is especially true in Matthew's birth narrative. As Ehrman states, there are five such places where a passage of scripture is quoted to indicated that it has been fulfilled in the coming of Jesus. That has the value of emphasizing the fact that Jesus is very much fulfillment of the expectation of the Jewish Messiah.

What Ehrman presents in his discussion on Jesus and the law is mostly the standard interpretation offered by historical critical scholars. Ehrman does not offer any personal theories or unusual interpretations of the material. One thing that Ehrman does not mention that is an often overlooked peculiarity of Matthew is that what a person believes does not seems to have any bearing on that person's salvation or relationship with Jesus as far as Matthew's Gospel is concerned. When Jesus commissions his disciples at the end of the Gospel, nothing is mentioned about what converts are supposed to believe. Rather the command is to go out "teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you" (Matthew 28:20). The teaching of Jesus in this Gospel is all about what he expects his followers to "do." This becomes especially clear at the end of the Sermon on the Mount. In 7:24 only those who hear the words of Jesus and put them into practice can be considered wise. In 7:21 Jesus makes the same point when he states: "Not everyone who says to me 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven." Nothing about believing here; it is all about doing.

If this would seem to imply a path to heaven similar to the "work righteousness" that the Apostle Paul denounces, Matthew scholar Ulrich Luz (The Theology of the Gospel of Matthew, Cambridge University Press, 1995), says Matthew's approach may look like "works righteousness" but it is not, for two reasons. First the emphasis on "doing" the will of God must be tempered with the acknowledgment that Matthew's Jesus says often that gaining heaven is a "reward" which implies that it cannot be earned (see Matthew 5:12; 5:46; 6:1-16; 20:1-16). Likewise, it the "doing" of the will of God cannot be taken as the sole determiner of gaining heaven because forgiveness plays a major role in the belief structure of Matthew's Gospel (see 6:12; 6:14-15; 18:23-35). These verses make clear that God's forgiveness is necessary for gaining heaven, but that divine forgiveness is still dependent on the human willingness to forgive others. So Matthew's view of what it takes to gain heaven is not a pure "works righteousness" in the sense of earning heaven. But the heavy emphasis on "doing" the will of God (including the Sermon on the Mount as well as the Jewish moral law as presented in the Jewish scriptures), gaining heaven really hinges on whether or not the human can forgive others in the same way that she/he has been forgiven by God.

Luz notes that for the Apostle Paul, Judaism and Christianity are two fundamentally opposing principles. Where as for Matthew, "He sees no rupture between Judaism and Christianity. On the contrary, the Jesus who fulfilled the Law and the prophets represents the true Israel" (Luz, page 148). The only rift is between Jesus and the leaders of Israel (and their followers) who do not do as Jesus teaches. Those who do not follow the teachings of Jesus "exclude themselves from God by virtue of their deeds" (Luz, page 149). For the Apostle Paul, righteousness refers to the action of God in justifying humanity through the death of Jesus. Whereas for Matthew, " 'righteousness' is that which God in his love demands of men and women. 'Righteousness' [in Matthew] means the human path which Jesus' disciples must travel when they allow themselves to be taught, led and accompanied by the Immanuel" (Luz, page 149).

Now back to Luz and Jesus and the Law in Matthew. Luz sums up his interpretation of how the law and the Sermon on the Mount fit in with Christian salvation with: "Living in accordance with the Sermon on the Mount is therefore a path to perfection. One should travel this path as far as possible. On the Day of Judgement the Son of Man will show just where the minimum righteousness lies that is necessary for entrance into the kingdom of heaven" (Luz, page 56).

NOTE: If Luz is correct in his assessment of Matthew's Jesus on role of human deeds and human righteousness for personal salvation, though tempered with the mercy of God on the day of judgment, then the model for human salvation that Matthew puts in Jesus' mouth is very similar to that of the Pharisees of Jesus' time. Of course, Matthew adds the very dramatic qualification that one must accept Jesus as the Jewish Messiah and lord over all humanity, which the Pharisees refused to do.

In another place Luz states: "Our personal relation to the heavenly Lord Jesus . . . none of this will be decisive on the Day of Judgment, only our works" (Luz, page 58). "Matthew rehearses with his readers the absolute sovereignty of the Judge of the world [Jesus], against whom there are no demands that can possibly be raised, but only his assessment of human deeds" (Luz, page 61). Jesus "is now God's Immanuel and the traveling companion of the community [of Christians], the same who is now proclaiming God's commandments to the community , and who is leading them in prayer to their Father in heaven" (Luz, page 61).

All ideas expressed above on the role of the commandments in Matthew and the accompanying quotations are taken from: The Theology of the Gospel of Matthew, by Ulrich Luz, Cambridge University Press, 1995.

One final note about Ehrman and the Gospel of Matthew. For some inexplicable reason, Ehrman did not emphasize the fact that the Day of Judgment when Jesus will return as the divine judge (the Son of Man) is a really big deal in Matthew as should be obvious to even a cursory reading of Matthew's Gospel. Mention of this upcoming event appears over and over as a warning to the reader to shape up and live right. But for some reason, Ehrman completely ignores this.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Ehrman, Chapter 5, Mark

Most historical critical scholars are certain that Mark's Gospel was written first. Not that they believe that anyone by the name of Mark wrote the Gospel. However, they choose to continue to use the traditional name of this Gospel in order to make it clear to what document they are making reference. Ehrman begins by reviewing the "synoptic problem" and the four-source hypothesis (also covered in my earlier Blog entry on this topic). As I mentioned in my Blog entries on the historical critical method, this whole understanding of the origination of the Gospels presupposes that the material in the Gospels was handed on orally for several decades before anyone thought to write it down. This process of oral transmission begins with the actual words of Jesus, but believes that few words of Jesus that were accurately remembered, and the whole oral tradition reworked the sayings of Jesus to adapt the sayings and actions of Jesus to a new setting. This new setting is the life of the early Christians attempting to define themselves as religious people over against the Judaism out of which Christianity emerged.

An intriguing theory that several scholars came up with about 10-15 years ago is the idea that the Gospel of Mark was originally an oral composition. That is, the entire Gospel was originally composed and transmitted orally before being written down at some point by someone. This theory has the advantage of explaining some of the stylistic peculiarities in Mark, such as the often noted tendency to over use the adverb "immediately" which serves to provide a link between otherwise disconnected passages and also beginning most sentences with "and" which provides an aural cue that a new sentence is beginning.

If it might seem odd that people would memorize the entire Gospel, early Christian Monks committed the entire book of Psalms to memory for their daily recitation. Also, Muhammad's Quran was handed on orally for many years after his death and only written down when disputes arose concerning the exact content of the Quran. Even today it is Not difficult to find Muslims who have committed large portions of the Quran to memory (in Arabic, for there is no such thing as an acceptable translation of the Quran for worship purposes).

When the Jesus material is finally collected into the various Gospels, it has become quite different from what it was when Jesus originally spoke it, and some of the sayings and stories may have been created along the way. At least this is what historical critical scholars tend to believe. In a similar way, the study of the Gospels themselves tends to be more focused on the particular theological interests of the Gospel's author than on the sayings and actions of Jesus.

The old traditional view of the Gospel of Mark is that this Gospel was composed by a companion of the Apostle Peter named Mark in Rome, and the content of the Gospel represents Peter's reminiscences of his time with Jesus. Historical critical scholars believe we do not have any reliable information whatsoever about the authors of the four Gospels or about where the Gospels might have been written, and deciding when they were written is educated guesswork. If Mark was written first, then the others have to be dated later, and allowing sufficient time for Mark to be copied and circulated around the eastern portion of the Roman empire. Ascribing a date of 65-70 CE to Mark is based on the fact that Mark, chapter 13, seems to presuppose the destruction of the temple (and since predictive prophecy is impossible to historical critics), therefore, the Gospel must have been written after the temple was destroyed (or when its destruction had become a foregone conclusion). However, an alternative interpretation of Mark 13 and the destruction of the temple is offered by scholar E.P. Sanders, who points out that when Jesus makes the prediction in Mark 13, he speaks of "not one stone will be left here upon another," whereas the actual destruction of the temple was by fire. And if this particular passage is a fictional prophecy after the fact wouldn't we expect the prophecy to be closer to the historical reality? So, even from a historical critical view, it may be possible Jesus really did make this prophecy.

As we see at the beginning of the Gospel of Mark, a central theme is affirming Jesus as both the Son of God and Messiah (Mark 1:1; Christ is simply the Greek word for the Jewish Messiah, meaning "anointed one," see Box 5.1 on page 61). The first two chapters in the Gospel are quite important for establishing this point of Jesus as Son of God and Messiah by emphasizing that Jesus speaks and acts on behalf of God, such as forgiving sins (2:7) and expelling demons (1:27).

Yet, we also find that Mark portrays Jesus as quite harassed by various Jewish groups, in particular the Galilean Pharisees and the Herodians. Many scholars find this odd since we do not hear much about Pharisees in Galilee in Jesus' time from Josephus. The Herodians are not known to scholarship outside of these two references in Mark (3:6 and 12:13) and one parallel reference in Matthew. The mention in 3:6 would seem to be Mark's way of casting a shadow over Jesus' ministry by warning the reader that Jewish leaders, feeling threatened by Jesus, want to be rid of him. This emphasis on the suffering of Jesus does not come to the fore in the Gospel narrative until the middle of Mark when Jesus first predicts his death (8:31). From there to the end of the Gospel, the idea of Jesus as the suffering Son of God seems to be the dominant theme.

Scholars have sometimes described the Gospel of Mark as a Passion narrative with an extended introduction (passion in the sense of the Latin word passio for suffering). While I sometimes think Ehrman is overplaying the opposition to Jesus in Mark (as in this section on page 64), it is clear that the opposition to Jesus (by the Pharisees and others) is an important part of Mark's portrayal of Jesus. It would seem that Mark intends to explain why it was necessary for the Son of God, the Messiah to suffer. The idea of a suffering Son of God or Messiah would not have been readily accepted by anyone from a Jewish background. So it seems that part of Mark's intent in writing his Gospel is to explain how this was all part of God's plan.

A curious feature of Mark's Gospel is the fact that Jesus is so often misunderstood by his disciples (see Ehrman, page 66). Modern scholars are quite certain that this is an intentional literary device on Mark's part (and has nothing to do with how the disciples historically might have behaved while actually with Jesus). What scholars cannot agree on is what this peculiarity means. One popular theory (35 years ago) was that the disciples represented a group of Christian opponents Mark was writing against. This theory is no longer widely accepted. My favorite theory is that the disciples represent what Not to do as a disciple and Jesus represents the ideal disciple, and a model for discipleship. Jesus was willing to suffer for the faith and the disciples ran away when following Jesus became too risky (when Jesus was arrested, 14:50). As I said, the disciples' lack of understanding is a curious feature, and there is no unanimity among New Testament scholars in trying to explain it.

Another curious feature of mark is what scholars is the so-called "Messianic Secret." It has always seemed a bit odd that Jesus would tell people not to tell others about his miracles (see Ehrman, Box 5.3 on page 67). This feature was explained by most scholars as having a purpose in the life of the historical Jesus, until German scholar Wilhelm Wrede in 1901 offered a non-historical explanation as to why Jesus several times orders that no report of his miracles should go out. Wrede proposes that this feature is a theologically motivated literary device employed by Mark in the composition of the Gospel to explain why Jesus was not widely recognized as the Messiah during the course of his earthly life. Jesus did not want the word to get out until after his resurrection, which would of course, explain why the word did not get out during Jesus' lifetime (at least Wrede was quite sure that no one believed that Jesus was the Jewish Messiah during his earthly lifetime, though even the skeptic Ehrman is quite sure that Jesus' disciples historically must have believed Jesus to be the Messiah). Wrede's explanation fits in rather nicely with the thinking of much of liberal Protestant New Testament scholarship was during the 20th century, most of whom were quite sure Jesus did not proclaim himself to be the Messiah.

As is the case with the apparent lack of comprehension on the part of the disciples, Jesus' commands not to tell anyone about his miracles is a curious feature of the Gospel for which there are numerous theories and not much consensus among scholars.

The overall perspective of the Gospel of Mark portrays Jesus as the Messiah and Son of God who reveals his true identity in his miracles and teachings, but also in his suffering in which the necessity of the death of the Messiah is a major part of the divine plan for the salvation of humanity. Ehrman does a good job explaining this on pages 68-71.

Regarding the conclusion of Mark's Gospel, most modern scholars are quite sure that for some reason Mark intentionally ended the Gospel at 16:7. This is obviously a very abrupt ending. To say that Mark intended the Gospel to end this way, leaving the reader hanging and wondering what comes next seems to presuppose a very modern way of thinking about the nature of a story. The traditional explanation has been that the original ending (now lost) would have included a resurrection appearance, even though this not present in the earliest existing manuscripts.

The modern conservative theory is that the original ending was lost and information was supplied from other sources outside of the other three Gospels to create the longer endings to Mark in some manuscripts. This is based on the belief that if John (what has no known connection with the other three Gospels includes resurrection appearances, then people expected the story of Jesus to end with a resurrection appearance. The key scholarly question is: does a Gospel require a resurrection appearance or are we only conditional to expect one based on the other three Gospels? Most modern scholars prefer to explain Mark's abrupt ending as part of the manner in which Mark's Gospel makes a distinction between the role of the disciples and the role of the reader (described well by Ehrman at the top of page 73). Thus, for Ehrman and most historical critical scholars, the abrupt ending at Mark 16:7 reflects the original intent of the author.

A couple of alternative explanations for the originality of the short ending that had some adherents in the 20th century were that the lack of a resurrection appearance by Jesus in Mark was because 1) the readers would soon see Jesus because he would return any day now, or 2) to stress the absence of Jesus until he returns, but we know not when. Scholar John Dominic Crossan believed that the author of Mark concocted the story of the empty tomb to emphasize the absence of Jesus until his return. But that theory has found little acceptance among scholars because it presupposes that the author of John's Gospel had access to Mark's Gospel (which few scholars believe true), because then you have to explain why the author of John's Gospel had no interest in using almost all of the other material in Mark's Gospel, except for the story of the empty tomb. Such a supposition strains credulity for most scholars.