Inductive Biblical Studies
Summer 2024 • Vol. 9 published by first fruits press of asbury theological seminary asbury.to/jibs
Inductive Biblical Studies
Inductive Biblical Studies
David J. Gyertson Interim President and Publisher
John Ragsdale Interim Provost
ISSN 2372-0727
Published in the Summer
Content and articles may be copied for personal or classroom use. Permission to otherwise reprint must be granted by the editor and the author.
204 N. Lexington Avenue Wilmore, Kentucky 40390 asburyseminary.edu
The Journal of Inductive Biblical Studies intends to promote the hermeneutical approach to the study of the Scriptures generally known as Inductive Biblical Studies. By Inductive Biblical Study (IBS) we mean the hermeneutical movement initiated by William Rainey Harper and Wilbert Webster White that was embodied in the curriculum of The Biblical Seminary in New York founded in 1900. This approach had precursors in the history of interpretation and has since the beginning of the twentieth-century enjoyed widespread dissemination, being taught at such institutions as Princeton Theological Seminary, Columbia Theological Seminary, Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, Fuller Theological Seminary, Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminaries, Azusa Pacific University, and Asbury Theological Seminary, as well as hundreds of other institutions and organizations around the world.
CHIEF EDITORS
David R. Bauer
Dean of the School of Biblical Interpretation, Ralph Waldo Beeson Professor of Inductive Biblical Studies, Asbury Theological Seminary
Fredrick J. Long Professor of New Testament, Director of Greek Instruction, Asbury Theological Seminary
EDITORIAL BOARD
G. Richard Boyd Associate Professor of Biblical Studies, Wesley Biblical Seminary
Joseph R. Dongell
Professor of Biblical Studies, Asbury Theological Seminary
Michael D. Matlock Rector of Christ Anglican Church in Cashiers, North Carolina
Alan J. Meenan Founder/President/Chief Executive of The Word Is Out Ministry
James C. Miller
Professor of Inductive Biblical Studies and New Testament, Asbury Theological Seminary
Suzanne B. Nicholson Professor of Biblical Studies, Asbury University
Brian D. Russell Professor of Biblical Studies, Asbury Theological Seminary
Dorothy Jean Weaver
Emerita Professor of New Testament, Eastern Mennonite Seminary
For more information, contact David R. Bauer or Fredrick J. Long Asbury Theological Seminary 204 N. Lexington Ave. Wilmore, KY 40390
http://place.asburyseminary.edu/jibs/ © Copyright 2024 by Asbury Theological Seminary
The Journal of Inductive Biblical Studies
4 From the Editors
David R. Bauer
7 Method in Bible Teaching
Robert A. Traina
64 Learning from D: Reading Pentateuchal Law with a View Toward Moral Instruction or Catechesis
Benjamin J. Aich
84 The Last and the First (Matt 21:16; 19:30): Women and Empire in Mathew’s Narrative
Dorothy Jean Weaver
146 An Exegetical Charcuterie Board: My Journey with Inductive Bible Study
Suzanne Nicholson
154 Preparation for Preaching: “Who is this King of Glory?”
Ruth Anne Reese
From the Editors
David R. Bauer
Ralph W. Beeson Professor of Inductive Biblical Studies and Dean of the School of Biblical Interpretation
Asbury Theological Seminary david.bauer @asburyseminary.edu
This issue of the Journal of Inductive Biblical Studies includes a range of articles dealing with various aspects of inductive biblical studies, from the teaching of inductive Bible study, to book-specific exegetical studies, to a highly reflective account from one scholar and university professor of her own journey in inductive Bible study, and finally to a sermon based on careful analysis of the text in line with the process of inductive study.
A special feature of this issue is a posthumous contribution by Robert A. Traina (1921-2010), one of the leading figures in the inductive Bible study movement. Soon after Professor Traina published his influential book, Methodical Bible Study (1952), he produced what he apparently intended to be its sequel on the teaching of teaching of the Bible to adults (primarily college, university, or seminary students), entitled, “Method in Bible Teaching.” This thorough and meticulous discussion lied dormant, and unpublished, for decades, but appeared as the first chapter of the Traina memorial Festschrift, Method in Teaching Inductive Bible Study A Practioner’s Handbook, and is reproduced here for the readers of this Journal.
Benjamin Aich offers a careful analysis of Deuteronomy’s use and re-reading of Exodus, with particular reference to the “child rebellion laws.” He notes especially how the structure of the relevant passages in Exodus and Deuteronomy clarifies Deuteronomy’s use of Exodus and thereby illumines not only the meaning of the specific passages in question, but also our construal of Deuteronomy, so that we may become “apprenticed” readers of Deuteronomy. Aich concludes by ex-
ploring how the moral instruction, formation, and catechesis of Deuteronomy’s re-reading of Exodus represents a hermeneutic that has informed the New Testament, and may usefully be applied by contemporary Christians.
Next, Dorothy Jean Weaver displays her extraordinary ability to interpret narrative material with sensitivity and depth as she explores the intersection between empire and women in Matthew’s Gospel. Weaver carefully examines the mention of each woman in the First Gospel, and explores the relation of each to empire within Matthew’s narrative, concluding that Matthew presents them in ironic fashion, pitting the perception of them and their roles from the perspective of the characters of Matthew’s story over against the divine perspective.
Suzanne Nicholson offers a stimulating and instructive installment in an ongoing feature within the pages of the Journal, the accounts of personal journeys of scholars and educators with inductive Bible study. Professor Nicholson tells how her encounter with inductive Bible study satisfied some of her deepest aspirations for Christian discipleship and brought her to a fuller understanding and utilization of the Scriptures. She helpfully reflects on the benefits and challenges of teaching the Bible according to the inductive approach to university students over a period of several years at two institutions.
This issue concludes with a sermon by the noted New Testament scholar, Ruth Anne Reese, on the lectionary texts for the fourth Sunday of Advent (2019), focusing particularly on Isaiah 7:15 and Matthew 1:23. Professor Reese precedes the sermon itself with reflections on her selection and treatment of the texts. In the sermon she gives careful consideration to the literary context of each passage and to their dynamic intertextual relationships, drawing out engaging and helpful insights for appropriation by contemporary Christians.
Method in Bible Teaching
Robert A. Traina
Abstract: This seminal article is re-published material of Dr. Traina’s that had only recently been published postmusously in 2019.1 When preparing to teach the Bible, one ought to consider general and specific aims, how best to structure the lessons, what are the sources and types of questions asked and discussed, as well as consider the how to introduce and illustrate materials. Traina methodically discusses such matters in addition to how to design student exercises with a variety of general and specific aims of the Bible teaching.
Keywords: teaching Scripture, methodical Bible study, pedagogy, lesson planning, use of questions, use of illustrations, areas of application, design of exercises, purpose of Bible teaching
I. Introduction to Method in Bible Teaching—Suppositions and Guiding Principles
In Section One, which formed the introduction to the entire manual, there were presented certain general premises which were to undergird both the discussions of methodical study and teaching. It would be well for the reader, therefore, to review that material in preparation for a better understanding of the forthcoming discussion. As a further means of preparing the reader for comprehending what follows, there will be stated additional suppositions and guiding principles which are
1 Fredrick J. Long and David R. Bauer, Method in Teaching Inductive Bible Study A Practitioner’s Handbook: Essays in Honor of Robert A. Traina with His Unpublished Material on the Subject, GlossaHouse Festschrift Series 2, The Journal of Inductive Biblical Studies Monograph Series 1 (Wilmore, KY: GlossaHouse, 2019), 3–56. Omited in this article is the thorough initial and sectional outlines of the contents of this mateiral.
more specifically concerned with the matter or teaching the English Bible.2 These will now be set forth in summary fashion.
A. Methodical Bible teaching assumes methodical Bible study. In fact, teaching a passage is essentially the re-creation on behalf of the listeners of the steps followed in one’s study, Therefore, the first and major step in the orderly, logical, effective procedure which has as its goal the teaching of the English Bible is the inductive study of the English Bible. The consideration of methodical teaching properly follows the consideration of methodical study.
B. Generally speaking, the teaching of the Scriptures as well as their study should be inductive. This implies that the teaching procedure should be experimental and should therefore utilize primarily the question and answer or the discussion approach. It should not be inferred, however, that the inductive lesson must always involve active participation on the part of the student. Such participation is certainly salutary, but sometimes it is virtually impossible. For example, the writer has been asked to teach a class of nearly two hundred men who were gathered in an auditorium whose platform was elevated. In such circumstances it is impractical to use the question and answer or discussion method. However, it is possible to proceed inductively, that is, to examine with the group the particulars of a passage and to draw generalizations on the basis of such a study.
Furthermore, these statements do not imply that the formal lecture or other similar approaches have no proper place in the teaching of English Bible. On the contrary, there are certain aspects of Scriptural study which are most adequately and efficiently presented through the use of the formal lecture. However, even the formal lecturer may at times employ induction in his or her presentation, that is, one may begin with particulars and indicate how the conclusions are founded on those particulars.
2 Note that the following discussion is primarily concerned with the teaching of the Scriptures in the vernacular. Its statements, however, should not be construed as a negation of the necessity and value of teaching the Bible in the original languages, just as the section on Bible study does not imply that the Scriptures should never be examined except in the vernacular. There is a definite and indispensable place for both the study and teaching of the Bible in the original. And, in fact, the general inductive principles discussed in this manual may well be utilized in such study and teaching to make them more effective.
It should be remembered that, in the last analysis, there is no such thing as pure induction either in study or teaching, but especially in teaching. Therefore, when the term “inductive” is employed, it really means “relatively inductive.” In fact, even if pure induction were possible, it would still be unwise to use it as the sole basis for teaching, since the most proficient pedagogy involves discreet combination of induction and deduction. For it is impractical to proceed as if there had never been any valid generalizations. There are some generalizations that should be presented without tracing exhaustively the precise way in which they were deduced from a study of the particulars. If this is not done, much time is wasted of the already too brief periods which can be devoted to teaching the Scriptures.
C. We are not here concerned with the general problem of Christian education, namely, the adaptation of Bible teaching to all the various age groups. The suggestions, which will be made will be applicable primarily to the teaching of those with more mature minds, who are capable of reasoning, engaging in discussion, and responding to questions. There is, of course, the possibility of adjusting the questions to make them suitable to the intellectual capacity of particular groups. Utilizing this principle of adaptation, many have found the question and answer and discussion methods beneficial even with younger minds.
D. There will be no attempt to exhaust the subject being considered. In fact, this section must of necessity be much briefer than the preceding one on Bible study, not because of the paucity of material, but because of the limitations of space. In view of this, we will concentrate on those facts which are not usually discussed in books on pedagogy and which, at the same time, are peculiarly relevant to the experimental approach to Bible teaching. Even these cannot be fully treated, so that only some of the main factors will be presented, and those very briefly. The bibliography will suggest certain books dealing with the more general phases of teaching procedure as well as others which will discuss further some of the elements presented briefly in this manual.
E. We will be guided by practical considerations in the following presentation. There will be no attempt to engage in academic or theoretical discussions of the problem at hand.
F. The pattern employed in the investigation of the several aspects of Scriptural teaching is not a rigid formula. It will entail a general order within which there is room for the variations and adaptations which arise due to individual differences or the necessities of the situation. However, broadly speaking, it will reflect the logical procedure to be followed in achieving the goal of effective Bible teaching.
G. Some of the factors discussed in this section will inevitably overlap those presented in the section on Bible study. For example, the material on the formulation and use of questions and answers in teaching procedure will be concerned with similar concepts and practices as the material on interpretative questions and answers in Bible study. In fact, the former is and must be an outgrowth of the latter. However, we will attempt to avoid too much duplication by assuming a knowledge and understanding of the subject matter already presented.
II. Aims in Bible Teaching
A. General Aims
There are certain common aims which characterize and guide every lesson on a Biblical passage. These objectives concern two main spheres of activity: 1. the realm of mental activity; and 2. the realm of spiritual activity.
1. In the Realm of Mental Activity
a. Concerning content It should be the aim of every Bible lesson, insofar as is possible, to enable the student to master the content of the particular Scriptural unit. This involves more than being able to repeat verbatim Biblical language, or to analyze the form of Biblical portions. It ultimately includes a knowledge of the profound meaning and significance and the widespread implications of Scriptural statements. The student should be taken behind the veil of form and language into the sanctuary itself, where he or she will meet face to face the ideas and thoughts of Biblical writers and characters. For only then will she or he truly master the contents of the English Bible.
b. Concerning method Edward Thring, Headmaster of the Uppingham School from 1853–1889, once remarked in an
address to teachers: “The swallowing system is all wrong…. However good the food, the full belly is not good if the exercise and the strength and the skillful use of the strength is not to be the outcome of feeding. Your business is to train athletes, not to fatten geese.” These incisive statements suggest that the teacher should aim at more than conveying to the listener the content of the Scriptures. He or she has the solemn obligation and duty to instruct students concerning the ways which they themselves may utilize the knowledge gained through study, as well as the means by which they may secure more knowledge. In other words, he or she should train students to be methodical in order that they may know how to employ and obtain knowledge for themselves. In fact, it may be added that students should also be trained to train others to acquire and use knowledge for themselves. To summarize, the teacher of English Bible should not only lead those instructed to a mastery of the content of Scriptures, but he or she should also develop in them methodicalness in Bible study and teaching if he or she is to realize his or her ultimate objective.
There are two excellent ways of accomplishing this final and most important goal. First, the teacher may reveal how he or she arrived at certain conclusions by indicating the exact procedure followed, as well as the discoveries made in following that procedure. When the teacher, who is also methodical, retraces the steps which guided him or her in their study, he or she thereby instructs students in methodical Bible study. Second, he or she can make the students conscious of the techniques being utilized, both in regard to study and teaching. He or she can disclose the “why” of the course being followed in order that, understanding the reasons and purposes for it, the students may more intelligently be able to follow it themselves and instruct others to follow it. Edward Thring closes the address mentioned above with these remarks: “A man is not made a fisherman by buying fish at a fishmonger’s, neither is the fishmonger a dealer in the art of catching fish. Fish ready caught and bought, do not make a fisherman…. Take the bandage off the eyes. Never fly hooded hawks.”
2. In the Realm of Spiritual Activity
a. Personal Improvement
One of the main aims of Bible teaching should be the enhancement of the spiritual life of the listener. Unless the individual emerges from the study of the Scriptures spiritually a better person than when he or she began the study, the Bible lesson has not accomplished one of its most crucial objectives.
b.
Social Improvement
The further aim of Bible study is to motivate hearers to become effective witnesses to that which they have discovered. In order to accomplish this, the present-day relevance of the material being studied should be made clear and forceful by the teacher. Further, the lesson should be conducted in such a spirit and manner that students will be anxious to teach it to others. Someone has described the aim of teachers in these words: “To interest and instruct is not enough; we must thrill.” When this objective is realized, students will go forth to sow the seed and, thus, become instrumental in the betterment of their fellow people.
B. Specific Aims
Besides these general goals in Scriptural teaching, there are some concrete factors that must be considered in the formulation and use of specific aims for a particular lesson.
1. The Basis for Specific Aims
It is axiomatic that the aim of an individual lesson should correspond with the aim or theme of the Biblical portion being considered in it. Unless this holds true, the passage will need to be distorted to fit the lesson, or the lesson will need to be changed to suit the passage. It is only as the objective of the Biblical unit and the lesson coincide that harmonious agreement will result.
If this principle is valid, then the goal of a lesson should be adapted to the goal of the passage, rather than the passage to the goal of the lesson. This is a legitimate procedure even if one begins with a topic or a problem which one would like to
consider. For a particular part of the Scriptures should be chosen for study only if its topic or problem corresponds with that in the mind of the teacher; a particular subject or question should not be forced upon a unit of Biblical material.
To put it another way, one of the great temptations in Bible teaching is to make a secondary or incidental idea within a portion the major aim of the lesson. When this occurs, an insurmountable discrepancy will appear between the unit of Scriptural material and the lesson itself. This ought carefully to be avoided by making certain that the primary objective or the lesson accords with the primary objective of the passage.
2. The Main Characteristics of Specific Aims
a. They should be relevant and suited to the needs, problems, capabilities, and interests of the group being taught.
b. They should be concrete and precise. It is a wise practice to write them out in full.
c. They may be and probably will be manifold. If so, a certain objective should predominate, and the others be made subservient. A teacher should not accomplish too many things in one lesson.
3. The Function of Specific Aims
If an aim means anything, it represents the end toward which the lesson should move and for which every individual part of the lesson exists. Thus, the objective becomes the norm, the standard by which the necessity and worth of the particular aspects of the lesson should be judged. The teacher should therefore ask himself regarding each phase of the lesson, “Does this specific part contribute anything to the accomplishment of my goal? If so, what precisely is its contribution and how is it realized?” If the answer to the first question is negative, then the part being considered should be eliminated from the lesson. If the answer is affirmative, it should be conceived of and treated in such a manner that its contribution to the goal of the lesson is actually and effectively accomplished.3
3 What is true of specific aims in regard to their function is also true of general aims.
C. Exercise on Aims
State fully the aims of lessons based on the following passages: Matthew 10, Mark 1:14–45, Mark 13, John 1:1–18, John 4:1–42, John 9–10, John 11, John 14, Acts 2, and Acts 16. In so doing, utilize the principles set forth in the preceding discussion.
III. Lesson Structure and Development in Bible Teaching
One of the most crucial steps in lesson preparation and execution involves the decision regarding the general structure and development of the lesson. For if one’s judgment in this connection is sound and valid, the remainder of the phases of preparation and execution will be greatly simplified. If, on the other hand, a wrong conclusion is drawn at this point, no matter what else is done, the lesson is liable to fail in its effectiveness.
A. General Determinants of Lesson Structure and Development
There are two primary factors which guide the structure and development of a lesson: 1. the nature and structure of the passage being taught; and 2. principles of sound pedagogy. These two general elements will be described briefly at this point.
1. Nature and Structure of the Passage
The structure of the lesson plan should correspond in a general way with the arrangement of the passage being examined. If, for example, a unit of Biblical material is “so constructed that an understanding of the first part of the unit is essential for a comprehension of the later points, then it is imperative that the lesson plan be so conceived as to allow for a study of the first part preceding a study of the other parts. Romans 1:18–32 is an example of such a passage. If, on the other hand, the converse is true, then the lesson plan should take this fact into account and begin by an examination of the later parts of the unit. The book of Joshua or the Gospel by John affords an illustration of a passage which may be considered as belonging to this latter category. In these and other ways the composition of a portion of Scripture will be an important factor in determining the structure and development of the lesson based upon it.
2. Principles of Sound Pedagogy
The teacher must not only be guided by the arrangement of the unit being examined, but also by sound pedagogical principles if his or her lesson is to be planned properly. That is, he or she should also be concerned with how best to convey to the class or enable the class to discover what a Biblical writer is saying if his or her teaching is to be effective. Although this factor is closely related to the preceding one, it contains a different element. For because of it, a teacher may sometimes, for example, begin in the middle of a book instead of at its beginning, in spite of the fact that its composition does not demand it. In order better to teach Genesis, for instance, one may commence with a study of the Abraham narrative instead of the creation account. This he or she may do not because the structure of the book makes it necessary, but because of sound pedagogical principles, since Genesis 1 raises so many problems in the mind of the modern student that it is difficult to examine it objectively as an integral part of the book of Genesis without first investigating other units of the book. In this and other ways, considering effective teaching procedure determines lesson structure, as well as the arrangement of the passage.4
We shall now see how these two general factors operate more specifically, in connection with decisions concerning the framework and development of a lesson.
B. Specific Kinds of Lesson Structure and Development
There are two primary ways of classifying the particular types of lesson structure and development: 1. logical or topical, which is the basic category; 2. structural or interpretative, which is more secondary in nature.
1. Logical or Topical Development
The logical type at structure involves the steady progression of the teaching procedure from beginning to end, with each part successively building upon that which precedes until the goal is finally reached. It may be diagrammed thus:
4 Note that the principles of structure and development may involve a series of lessons as well as an individual lesson.
The topical kind of composition entails the consideration of parallel aspects or phases of one idea, the accumulation of which constitutes the realization of the aim of the lesson. It thus involves the approaching of one thing from various directions. It may be pictorialized in this manner:
Which of these types of development is employed depends upon the nature of the passage being taught. If the Scriptural unit is logical in character, such as Romans 6:1–7:6 or Romans 8, then the logical kind of lesson arrangement is most valid, A topical treatment of such a passage would probably be misleading as an initial approach. If, on the other hand, the portion is topical in nature, such as John 3:1–21 or Mark 4:35–5:43, then the topical type of development is more legitimate.5
5 As a matter of fact, it should be noted that no passage is purely topical, because the various aspects are always logically interrelated to some extent. However, some units of Scripture are more topical than logical. It is these which we are classifying as topical. Incidentally, these facts apply to the structure of lessons as well.
A third type of structure was not mentioned in this material because it is actually a variation of the other two and therefore subordinate to them. It may be called the circular kind of arrangement. This arrangement is a cross between topical and logical framework, although it is usually utilized in conjunction with the logical approach. It involves beginning with the theme or thesis, then following with a substantiation of it, and finally concluding at the same place at which the teaching procedure commenced. The lesson thus returns to the point of its beginning. This type of development is frequently valid in connection with those
2. Interpretative or Structural Development6
There is a further and secondary qualification as to the method of developing a Bible lesson. A logical or a topical lesson may be arranged either interpretatively or structurally, although frequently the logical passage lends itself to interpretative development, whereas a topical unit is often conducive to the structural kind of lesson arrangement.
a. Interpretative or Synthetical Development (parts-whole)
This type of lesson organization involves beginning at the beginning or the passage, and moving consecutively from part to part until the whole has been studied. If the passage as-a-whole is conceived as a circle, and each part of the passage as a segment of the circle, this kind of lesson structure may be diagrammed thus:7
EXAMINATION AND RELATION OF INDIVIDUAL PARTS
EXAMINATION OF WHOLE
passages whose composition is based primarily on the law of particularization, such as Psalm 23 and Romans 1:18–32. However, the circular approach must not be used in such a way as to make the lesson deductive by dogmatically stating at the outset that which ought to await the conclusion of the lesson.
6 These terms are borrowed from M. J. Adler’s How to Read a Book, although they are used in a different connection in his discussion. Furthermore, the term “interpretative” is used differently here from the way in which it was employed in the section on Bible study in this manual.
7 The image of the circle is not a perfect one, since it does not adequately indicate progression. However, it is utilized because it does represent the idea of wholeness, which is primary in the present discussion. The circle is not employed here to represent solely the circular approach, although it does reflect to some extent such an approach.
b. Structural or Analytical Development (whole-parts-whole)
The structural approach, on the contrary, commences with a survey or preview of the whole, proceeds to an analysis of the parts, and concludes with an examination of the whole.8 It may be pictured thus:
PREVIEW OF WHOLE ANALYSIS AND RELATION OF INDIVIDUAL PARTS REVIEW OF WHOLE
In view of these two means of classifying lesson construction, namely, logical or topical and interpretative or structural, there are four major types of organization: the logical interpretative and the logical structural arrangements, and the topical interpretative and the topical structural kinds of composition. To put it another way, a lesson which is so constructed that there is a progressive study of dependent parts until the goal is finally achieved (logical approach) may be conducted by beginning with the first step and moving a step at a” time until the whole has been studied (interpretative approach), or it may commence with a preview of the whole, proceed to an analysis of the consecutive parts, and culminate with a re-view of the whole (structural approach). The same two alternatives are possible in connection with the topical lesson. It may start with a detailed examination of each unit or topic or, on the other hand, with a preview of the whole.9
8 The implication of this analysis of lesson arrangement is that every teaching approach should conclude with a view of the whole, whether the lesson be interpretative or structural.
9 The kind of preview of which we have been speaking is limited to the particular unit which is being studied. However, it is sometimes essential to preview the structure of the larger context in which such a unit is found in order to obtain the proper background
c. Concrete Bases for Deciding the Type of Lesson Structure and Development
As was suggested, whether a lesson is arranged topically or logically depends primarily on whether the passage itself is topical or logical in nature. However, the decision as to whether the lesson should be structural or interpretative depends on a number of factors which concern both the nature of the unit and principles of sound pedagogy. They may be summarized in terms of the following three questions: first, “Is a preview of the passage necessary for the understanding or interpretation of its individual parts?”; second, “Is a preview of the Biblical unit essential for purposes of orientation or in order to make the lesson intelligible?”; and third, “Is a preview of the passage possible without detracting substantially from the body of the lesson?” Let us consider each of these questions separately.
The first question involves exegetical factors which in turn are dependent upon the character of the Scriptural unit being examined. Certain passages are so constructed, that is, their elements are so interrelated, that a preview of the whole is virtually indispensable for the exposition of’ their individual parts. James 1 may well be classified in this category, for the interpretation of the paragraphs in verses 2–15 is contingent upon noting the fact that the term “trials” appears both in verse 2 and in verse 12. In order to observe the recurrence of this term, one needs to preview the whole. Simply to begin at the beginning might not provide the basis for expounding the individual statements and paragraphs.107
The second question, namely, “Is a preview essential for purposes of orientation or so as to make the lesson
for its study. For example, the effective teaching of John 13:1–35 may well necessitate a preview of the arrangement of the entire book of John.
10 In a real sense the explanation of every part of a passage depends upon that of every other part of the passage. This is especially true in terms of full interpretation. It is for this reason, for example, that the suggestion is made to close each Bible lesson with a review of the whole. However, in certain instances it is possible to engage in the basic exposition of a part of a Biblical unit without first exegeting the other parts, whereas in other cases this is not possible. It is such a distinction which forms one of the grounds for determining whether a lesson should be interpretative or structural.
intelligible?” involves principles of sound pedagogy. At times a preview of the passage as-a-whole will make a substantial contribution toward orienting the class to the lesson or clarifying the arrangement or the lesson, thus making its structure understandable to the students. Such a procedure may supply, for example, an insight into the reason why the lesson is constructed as it is, an insight which might otherwise be absent, thus resulting in a failure to comprehend its development. For instance, John 3:1–21 may be taught from the standpoint of the various characteristics set forth there regarding the new birth. But unless there is a preview of the whole which establishes the fact that the new birth is the Principle theme of that unit, students may not discern why such an idea was chosen as the organizing center of the lesson. Students may well conclude that the choice was an arbitrary one on the part of the teacher, and thus miss in a sense the main point of the lesson. A preview of the whole may therefore afford the listener with the necessary data in order to grasp the grounds for the particular teaching procedure which is being followed. If the answer to both of these questions is “no,” then the approach to the lesson should be interpretative. If, on the other hand, the answer to either of these two queries is “yes,” then the third question should be seriously considered, namely, “Is a preview possible without detracting appreciably from the body of the lesson?”11 If the answer to this question is “yes,” then the structural arrangement should be employed. This may occur in relation to a passage which has only surface structure or which has surface structure ae well as underlying structure. However, it may be that a particular passage has only an underlying structure, which is so complex that to preview it would necessitate the minute examination of one or more of its parts, thus detracting from the core of the lesson. What may happen in the treatment of such a unit is that by the time its composition is discovered, a substantial part of it will have been studied, thus leaving little to be done in the rest of the lesson. In such an instance one must decide which is the lesser of two evils, that is, whether it is least detrimental
11 Incidentally, if the answer to the first question is “yes,” the answer to the second question will also usually be “yes.”
to survey the whole in order to make possible the interpretation of individual parts or the better understanding of the lesson development, or to forego these in order to avoid teaching the lesson proper, so to speak, before it begins. This decision must be determined on the basis of the character of the particular passage being studied and the nature of the group being taught.12 No general principle may determine the answer, unless it be that it is usually disastrous to a lesson to detract too much from its body in order to introduce it.
It should be noted that it is especially helpful to preview the composition of the passage as-a-whole when a large body of material is being studied. And fortunately, few problems arise in surveying the arrangement of a long passage if it is done properly, Therefore, it is usually safe to assume that if a lengthy unit is being taught, the lesson should have a structural development.
All of this discussion emphasizes one outstanding idea: The teacher should not use a certain kind of structure in a particular lesson simply because he or she has seen others use that type of arrangement or because he or she has used it in other connections. Such a decision should not be made cursorily or out of habit, but rather on the basis of careful thought and evaluation in connection with each individual lesson. Even if the aforementioned criteria are not used by teachers, they should develop their own standards and employ them diligently. At times the teacher will unquestionably find it difficult to choose between the logical and topical or the structural and interpretive approaches because of the lack of decisive evidence; however, this should not deter him or her from the obligation and task to pass judgment regarding these matters.
D. Means of Previewing the Composition of a Passage in Lesson Structure and Development
12 It has been previously stated that there are two kinds of structure, namely, surface structure and underlying structure. The first is readily observed because it lies near the surface, and it therefore lends itself to the preview or survey approach. On the other hand, underlying structure lies beneath the surface and is not so readily detected. It therefore is not too susceptible to a preview or survey.
If one decides that the lesson should be arranged structurally, there are two basic means which one may employ in order to preview a passage. First, the teacher himself may point out the structural elements of the unit and suggest how these elements indicate its composition. Second, the instructor may ask the students certain structural questions whose answers will result in the discovery of the arrangement of the passage. Both of these approaches are legitimate and which of them is employed depends on such factors as the time element, since the first is usually the shorter procedure. In no case, however, should the teacher dogmatically and arbitrarily disclose the composition of a Scriptural unit without substantiating his or her statements by reference to the particulars of the passage.13
E. Some Common Errors in Lesson Structure and Development
In order to indicate clearly some of the frequent fallacies which occur in the arrangement of Bible lessons, diagrams will be used to pictorialize them. In these diagrams the ideal lesson structure will be represented by the logical type of approach and will be indicated by a broken line. However, those same errors are relevant to the topical kind of arrangement. The reader may draw comparable diagrams showing how these fallacies are applicable to topical lesson structure.
1. The Backtrack Approach the repetition of that which has already been treated.
2. The Detour Approach the taking of periodic excursions from the main road of the lesson.
13 In certain instances the teacher will find it necessary to preview the structure of certain parts of a passage. Such a preview does not come under the category of structural development. Furthermore, a preview of a passage is not to be considered as an introduction, at least generally speaking. The preview, when it is done, is therefore an integral part of the body of the lesson.
3. The Unfinished Approach the failure to bring the lesson to its proper and natural conclusion.
4. The Buckshot Approach the approach to a passage which is not guided by one unifying idea but rather takes various courses in various directions.
5. The Deviating Approach the sudden and permanent digression from the course of the lesson.
6. The Swerving Approach the sort of development which is near the main path of the lesson without quite being on it.
7. The Non-Transitional Approach the failure to connect or relate the various parts of the lesson.
8. The Wandering Approach the aimless rambling from place to place.
These are merely some of the common errors in lesson development. Readers may be able to add to this list others which they may have observed.
F. Miscellaneous Principles for Proper Lesson Structure and Development
From these fallacious kinds of lesson arrangement, we may learn certain principles which one should follow in order to achieve the proper arrangement of Biblical lessons. To these we shall add other principles which come to mind and which have not yet been stated.
1. The lesson should move steadily toward its objective. Once a certain phase of the lesson has been completed, it should not be repeated. The only exceptions to this principle are those factors which demand repetition for the sake of emphasis.
2. Only that which will contribute to the progress of the lesson should be included in it. All irrelevant parts should be excluded from the teaching procedure. Further, the students should be made conscious of the exact means in which each part or the lesson contributes to its development.
3. The lesson should not be left in mid-air, but should be carried to its logical culmination.
4. If at all possible, the teaching plan should be organized and unified around one main idea, and nothing should be allowed to cause one to veer away from that one idea. This does not imply that there will be no elasticity or flexibility to the lesson, for if it were rigid it would be deductive rather than experimental. However, the character of that which is elastic is that it returns to its initial shape. This should be true of the teaching procedure. The lesson should give the impression of wholeness, oneness, integrality.
5. The teacher should be certain that he or she is squarely on the main road of the lesson and not just missing it. There is the constant danger of being so near and yet so far in relation to the main course of the lesson.
6. It is of supreme importance to develop adequate, clear, and smooth transitions between the different parts of the lesson. Transitions often make or break a lesson. It is therefore wise to prepare them carefully beforehand.
7. The lesson should move steadily toward a climax, a high point which stands out above all others. If the passage being studied is
climactic, the climax of the lesson ought to coincide with the climax or the unit.
8. The plan for developing the lesson together with its basis and significance should be made clear to the class wherever possible and necessary.
9. The latter part of a lesson should be in harmony with the former part, and their agreement should be made clear to the class. For example, if the teaching plan begins with the statement of a problem, it should close with reference to the solution of that problem. In a word, a lesson should have unity in its development.
10. The conclusion should be the natural and logical outgrowth of the rest of the lesson and not something which is an afterthought and superimposed on the rest of the material.
11. Avoid being anti-climactic in the development of a lesson.
12. A teaching plan should have a definite terminus, which is approached gradually but when reached brings the lesson to a precise and prompt close. Rambling on when the lesson should have ended may be disastrous to its overall impression.
13. The progress of a lesson should be as steady as possible. It should not be extremely slow at certain times and extremely rapid at others.
G. Exercise on Lesson Structure and Development
Study the following passages: Mark 2:1–3:6, Mark 4:35–5:43, John 6, John 13:1–35, John 15, Romans 3:21–31, Romans 5, Romans 9–11, 1 Corinthians 12:31–14:1, Hebrews 11, James 1, James 3:1–4:12, 1 John 1:5–26. Would you develop a lesson on each of these particular passages topically or logically, structurally or interpretatively? In answering this question, consider the principles and suggestions found in the preceding pages. Give the exact reasons for your answers. If there is doubt in any case, state the pros and cons for the various possibilities, weigh the evidence, and make your decision.
IV. Formulation and Use of Questions and Answers in Bible Teaching
A. Sources of Questions
1. General Source
Broadly speaking, the source of the questions used in Scriptural teaching is the group of questions which are raised in connection with the study of a Biblical unit and which have already been discussed. This fact is of supreme importance and indicates the great dependence of effective teaching upon thorough and efficient study. For unless one is able in the first place to suggest those questions whose answers result in valid and adequate interpretation, evaluation, application, and correlation, one will not be capable of asking those questions in the teaching process whose replies will enable the class to receive an insight into the meaning, significance, and value of a portion of Scripture.
2. Specific Sources
Having said this, it may be helpful to examine more particularly the sources of questions to be used in Bible teaching. The questions employed in a lesson originate from two primary areas.
a. Objective Sources
Objectively, the questions used in Bible teaching are based on two main factors, namely, the character of the unit being taught and the character of the group being taught.
(1) The Nature of the Passage
The questions to be utilized in the lesson derive from the nature and content of the passage itself, that is, its terms, structure, literary form, and atmosphere. This fact has been stressed in other connections. What is even more important to note in this regard is that the questions for teaching must originate from those aspects or a particular unit which are the most significant for its proper understanding. For it is obvious, for example, that the teacher cannot employ in toto the list of interpretive questions which were framed during the process of study. He or she must therefore select those questions which are most crucial and strategic to use in the teaching procedure. And what these questions will be is dependent upon that which is central and determinative in the passage. Thus, in more ways than
one the character of the portion being taught dictates the questions which should be asked in its teaching.
(2) The Nature of the Class
There is, however, another objective factor which forms the basis for the questions used in the Bible lesson, namely, the needs, problems, interests, and capabilities of the group being taught. There should be no doubt as to the importance of this factor. It not only determines the phrasing of particular questions, but it also accounts in a real way for the kind and content of the questions employed. The teacher should, therefore, be alert to the nature of the group being led if the questions he or she utilizes are to be as effective as possible.
b. Subjective Source The Nature of the Mind
Subjectively, the questions employed in the teaching procedure spring from the inquisitive, curious, wondering mind. Although this fact has already been stated in the discussion of interpretative questions in methodical study, it is well worth iterating. The prerequisite of teaching others is the kind of mentality which is not satisfied with words or appearances or mechanics or commonplace explanations or trite clichés, but which, on the contrary, pries under the surface of things and raises insistent queries regarding their profound and underlying meaning and significance. This type of mind is in the first place essential for incisive Bible study; it is even more indispensable for Bible teaching, since the teacher takes upon himself the responsibility of leading others to an understanding of the Scriptures. Not only must the mind be inquisitive regarding the passage being studied, but also, in a legitimate way, regarding the nature of the class being taught. Teachers should be concerned with discovering the needs, problems, interests, and abilities of their classes; and they should be concerned as to the bearing of those discoveries upon the construction of their lessons and especially the questions employed. For unless there exists such an interest on the part of teachers, their lessons and questions may have serious deficiencies.
B. General Purpose of Questions
1. In Regard to the Students
a. To enable students to learn how much or how little they have discovered concerning passages of Scripture.
b. To show students the great potentialities inherent in Bible study.
c. To improve the students’ knowledge of the content, meaning, and implications of Scriptural units, which may sometimes entail the correction of misconceptions or the emphasizing of certain essentials.
d. To develop initiative in students by enabling them to discover the latent capacities which reside in their own minds and indicating the ways in which they may employ them.
e. To foster in students the power of clear thinking and selfexpression.
f. To aid students in seeing the interrelatedness of truth.
g. To give students the opportunity to contribute to the lesson.
h. All of this to enable each student to develop into an independent and effective Bible scholar and teacher, with all the implications attached to these activities.
2. In Regard to the Teacher
a. To make possible vital contact between teacher and student.
b. To show the teacher how much students have learned and how far they have developed, that he or she may begin where the students are and lead them to where they ought to be.
3. In Regard to the Passage to bring the mind into contact with the thought and aim of the biblical author(s) and the meaning and contemporary significance of their words.
4. In Regard to Lesson Development to make a substantial contribution to the on-going movement of the lesson so that it may attain its goal.
C. Kinds of Questions
There are several ways of classifying the various types of questions. We shall organize them in four categories: 1. in terms of their
importance; 2. in terms of their scope and concreteness; 3. in terms of the effectiveness and order; and 4. in terms of their precise aims.14
l. In Terms of Their Importance Key and Subsidiary
The questions of any one lesson are not all of equal significance. Some will be more important and others will be less important. The questioner should make it a point to determine in connection with the whole lesson what the key question or questions should be, and what supporting or subsidiary questions should be employed in order to realize the answers to the key questions. If at all possible, the lesson should be organized around one or a few crucial questions whose replies constitute the substance of the lesson. All other queries should serve to uphold and fulfil those strategic questions.
The key question or questions should be based upon the principle elements of the passage being studied. For example, Hebrews 11 consists primarily of an opening description of faith followed by the particular outworkings and results of such faith in the lives of specific persons, together with the reasons for the organic relation between faith and its effects. In view of this, a lesson built on Hebrews 11 might embody these key questions: “What is meant by faith, what were its results in each instance, and wherein or why did such faith have such results?” Similarly, Isaiah 55 is essentially a description of God’s merciful offer of pardon to Israel. The strategic question may therefore be stated thus: “What are the major characteristics of God’s mercy, and what are their meaning and implications?” All other questions employed in the lessons on those passages may well have as their function the answering of those crucial questions.
It is not to be inferred, however, that the key question or questions are to be stated explicitly at the outset of every lesson, for this is not the case. In some instances, it will undoubtedly be helpful to express the central problem at the beginning, but in others it would be impractical to do so. When a lesson is developed structurally, the former approach will probably be valid; if it is arranged interpretatively, the latter procedure will probably be suitable. However, the main point is that the teacher should have in his or
14 To be sure, these classifications are interrelated.
her own mind a certain crucial question or questions which will form the core of the lesson and serve to make it a unified whole.
2. In Terms of Their Scope and Concreteness General and Specific
The distinction between general and specific questions may involve either of the two following factors: a. scope, and b. concreteness. In the first instance, a question may be general because it is broad, or it may be specific because it is narrow and deals with one or more particulars. For example, the question “What attributes of God are set forth in the Abraham narrative?” is general because of its breadth, whereas the question “What Divine attributes are set forth in Genesis 12:1–3” is specific because it narrows the area to a certain few verses. On the other hand, a question may be general because it lacks concreteness. For instance, the general question “What is the atmosphere of Romans 9–11?” may be made specific by asking, “What is the controlling attitude of Paul as found in Romans 9:1–5?”
It should be remembered that “general” and “specific” are often relative terms, and that therefore there are degrees of generality and specification. Some questions may be more specific than others on the one hand, and more general than others on the other hand.
The teacher should make it a point to ask both general and specific questions; for the more general questions develop initiative on the part of the student, whereas the more specific questions enable the teacher to provide direction to the student and to the lesson, as well as help to conserve time.15
3. In Terms of Their Effectiveness and Order Primary and Secondary or Auxiliary
It is difficult to find a descriptive title suitable for this category because it involves an admixture of several factors. However, it is an essential classification, since it is made necessary by important practical considerations. For every teacher who has employed questions knows that many questions are never answered in their initial or primary form. This may be due to one or more of several
15 Key questions are usually the most general, whereas subsidiary questions frequently move toward specification.
reasons: a. students may lack insight into the meaning or significance of the question; b. they may have failed to follow the necessary steps of logic leading to the question; and c. they may have neglected to study the lesson. Other reasons may make certain questions ineffective; but, whatever the cause, the teacher finds it necessary to use auxiliary or secondary questions in order to lead the student to discover the answer to the first or primary questions. Secondary questions may often involve framing the primary questions in different words. However, at times it is necessary to make the secondary or auxiliary question more concrete. For example, one may ask, “What is the structure of Romans 1:18–32?” If the student fails to answer this primary question, which is general in nature, one may inquire, “What is the significance of the ‘therefore’ of verse 24 for discovering the arrangement of this segment?” In other instances, when the primary question assumes several logical deductions, it is necessary to formulate a series of secondary questions whose intent is to trace those steps in order that the student may understand the initial question. It is difficult to overemphasize the importance of secondary questions in inductive Bible teaching. More often than not the effectiveness of a lesson will depend upon them. It is therefore helpful for the teacher to prepare himself for secondary questions by practicing formulating them, as well as by having such a thorough knowledge of the subject matter that he or she can approach it from various directions.16
4. In Terms of Their Precise Aims
The key and subsidiary, general and specific, as well as primary and secondary questions used in the teaching procedure may be profitably classified in terms of their specific purposes. The various types of questions in this regard will now be enumerated, described, and illustrated. The close relationship between questions in study and teaching will be noted.17
16 It may be helpful to note that both key and subsidiary questions are primary in the sense in which we are using the term here, since they may be planned beforehand.
17 Although some of the questions listed in this connection are identical to those found in the section on study, different names will frequently be used for them, not only for the sake of variety, but also because of a slightly different emphasis due to their relation to teaching procedure.
a. The Factual Question
This kind of question is sometimes called “informational.” It corresponds to the observational question utilized in methodical study, namely, “What is here?” This, of course, is a general question which may and should be adapted in view of the specific portion being taught. For example, in connection with the study of John 17, the factual question may be expressed thus: “What are the petitions made by Jesus and what bases does He give for them? “The answers to such questions frequently stop short of profound interpretation. Factual questions thus have the function of laying the foundation for succeeding and more significant questions by calling attention to the actual facts or statements of the passage.
b. The Elucidative Question
After a fact has been noted, one may ask the type of question which attempts to render intelligible its meaning. This question therefore corresponds to the definitive or explanatory question in study. For example, when the aforementioned factual question is answered by noting Jesus’s petition that His disciples be consecrated in the truth (John 17:17), the following question may be asked: “What exactly is meant by this petition?”
c. The Analytical Question
Webster defines analysis in this way: “To decompose or resolve into elements or constituent parts; to separate mentally the parts of a whole so as to reveal their relation to it and to one another.”18 In view of this definition, it is apparent that the analytical question is a structural question and, in a real sense, an observational question. However, it is the type of inquiry which usually presupposes a certain amount of interpretation. This fact was called to the reader’s attention in the section on interpretative questions, where the analytical question was previously mentioned. This kind of query has as its intent the discovery as to whether a particular part involves basis, motivation, reason, purpose, etc.
18 Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, Fifth Edition.
d. The Heuristic Question
This type of inquiry follows logically on the heels of the elucidative and analytical questions. The term “heuristic” is derived from the Greek word heuriskō, which means “to search or to find by careful scrutiny.” The heuristic question is therefore a search question and is commonly called a “thought question.” Its purpose is to transcend and penetrate literal statement in order to find the purpose of statements as well as their signification and implications. In fact, it includes the rational and implicational types of inquiry, as well as identifying, methodical, temporal, and local questions when they cannot be answered by simply noting the factual statements of a portion.
e.
The Rhetorical Question
The rhetorical question demands no explicit reply by the members of the class either because its answer is obvious or because it is answered by the questioner himself. In the first instance, its function is to focus attention on a particular point by engaging the mind and interest of the listener through the medium of inquiry. Jesus’s questions recorded in Mark 8:36–37 are of this type. When a rhetorical question is employed in this way, it should not be used in connection with a controversial subject. Its reply should be self-evident. In the second case, it involves the questioner’s bringing to the listener’s attention a certain subject which he or she wishes to discuss. He or she therefore states the topic in question form, and the ensuing presentation becomes an answer to the question. The function of this kind of rhetorical question is to make possible literary or oral composition. Paul, for example, frequently uses this literary means in Romans.
f.
The Choice Question
Such a question gives its recipient two or more alternatives from which to select an answer. It thus may be in the form of a “yes” or “no” question. It serves to delimit the field being examined by calling special attention to certain possibilities. However, it is not self-sufficient, since in order to be
beneficial it must be followed by the supporting question, namely, “What are the reasons for your choice?”
g. The Summary Question
The summary question corresponds to integrative questions presented previously in the section on “Integration and Summarization.” Therefore, its aim is to lead the student to state in succinct form the essence of the thought and purpose of a passage. For example, one might summarize the idea of John 17 in terms of this general question, “What is the unifying thought or John 17?” Incidentally, every lesson should be summarized and focalized at its conclusion, whether a summary question is used in doing so or not.
h. The Review Question
The review question may be used in two ways.
(1) It may be employed to impress something upon the mind by repetition or to re-learn something which may have been forgotten. Someone has said that we do not really learn a thing until we have learned it, partially forgotten it, and learned it again.
(2) It may be utilized to re-view the material already covered, to approach it from another standpoint in order to gain further perspective and insight or to organize what has already been noted. After studying John 17 in terms of Jesus’s prayer, it may be re-viewed by the use of either of the following questions: “What characteristics of effective prayer are exemplified in this segment?” or “What concept did Jesus have of His own nature, life, and mission according to this segment?”
i. The Examinational Question
This kind of inquiry attempts to test how much the student has learned as well as how much he or she has developed. Its answer frequently forms the background for further questioning.
j. The Value Question
Such a question corresponds to those previously presented in the section on evaluation. Its purpose is to lead the student to appraise Scriptural statements from the standpoint of their validity or their exact worth and relevance in a given situation. Often this kind of inquiry will result in a deeper insight into the meaning and signification of a Biblical truth as well as in a value-judgment regarding it.19
k. The Applicatory Question
It is sometimes advisable to ask the members of a class questions which will enable them to apply for themselves the passage being studied. However, teachers should be careful to avoid monotony in this regard. They should seldom ask the general question, “How does this apply to you or to us?” They should attempt to use variety and to adapt this general question to the specific unit being taught. For example, in connection with a study of John 17, one may inquire, “What can we do to help answer Jesus’s prayer?”20
l. The Correlative Question
Just as the preceding inquiry parallels that of application in methodical study, so this one coincides with correlation in methodical study. Its concern is to integrate the truths of various parts of the Scripture so that the outcome of inductive study is a Biblical theology which forms a basis for a Christian philosophy of life. For example, after the members of a group have studied the decalogue as it is set forth in Exodus 19–20, they may profitably be asked to consider the function and place of the law in the life of the believer in view of the statements of Jesus and Paul.
m. The Adjustment Question
This type of question is important because it helps to ensure that the leader of a group is teaching rather than merely speaking. It makes possible the interplay between the minds of the group and that of the teacher which is so indispensable to
19 Illustrations of questions of evaluation were given in the section on “Evaluation and Application in Bible Study.”
20 A further discussion on application will follow later.
effective pedagogy. The question of adjustment may be asked in various ways. Here are two examples: “Do you have any questions on anything that has been said thus far? Is what I’ve said clear to you?” It is important to remember that it is possible so to employ such inquiries that the student does not feel free to take advantage of them. If they are to be beneficial, the teacher must give the members of the class enough time to reply and must also be willing to consider the questions which are raised. Hurriedly to ask a question of adjustment simply as a matter of form is more detrimental than beneficial.
D. Content and Form of Questions
The following should characterize the content and form of questions.
1. Practicality They should make a real difference and should serve some useful purpose.
2. Clarity They should be lucid and cogent.
3. Brevity, Directness They should state the problem in the fewest possible words.
4. Definiteness They should have a specific purpose and goal.
5. Variety They should not always be stated in the same language, nor should they always be factual. There should be variation in both the terms employed and the kind of questions used.
6. Suitableness They should befit the material being examined and the capacities of the students to whom they are asked.
7. Adaptability They should be flexible enough so as to be capable of re-statement when the occasion arises.
8. Stimulation They should not give away the answer but should, on the other hand, quicken thought and concentration on the part of the student.
9. Sincerity They should not be so phrased as to attempt to fool the student. If they involve a “catch,” the class should be warned beforehand.
10. Inductivity They should be so stated as to direct the student to an examination of the particulars and to prevent him or her from becoming speculative, abstract, and deductive.
11. Forcefulness They should be compelling and substantial.
12. Imaginativeness They should capture the imagination of the student whenever possible. Stereotyped, prosaic questions should be avoided.
13. Singleness They should approach the problem from one angle only.
14. Relevancy Their content and formulation should be pertinent to the discussion.
15. Suggestiveness They should indicate a line of thought which the student may profitably follow.
E. Order of Questions
It is of supreme importance that questioning be methodical if it is to be effective. There is a certain orderly arrangement of questions which, if violated, will result in disorder and confusion. Generally speaking, each question should form a link in a chain, attaching itself to what precedes and preparing for what follows. For example, a question of evaluation presupposes one of elucidation and in turn is the basis for a question of application. For to evaluate before one interprets or to apply before one evaluates is disastrous in questioning just as it is in study. It is therefore important to give careful consideration to the precise order of the questions in a particular lesson.
In planning questions, teachers should therefore think in terms of a series or sequence of queries rather than a list of questions. They should be certain that their questions are interrelated and that their interrelatedness is made real and clear by their order, contents, and form. It is often helpful to utilize transitions between questions to indicate their connections.
F. Manner of Asking Questions
Dr. H. H. Horne described the general attitude of the teacher toward the student when asking questions in the following words: “With great sympathy, with confidence in his ability to answer,
with expectation that he will answer, with surprise when he does not answer, with interest in his answer, and with particular attention to his answer.”21
Other principles and suggestions should be kept in mind by teachers as they ask questions. These will now be enumerated.
1. A question should initially be asked of the whole class instead of an individual member of the group. After the question has been stated, the teacher should then call upon the particular person whom he wants to answer. If the name of the individual is called first, the remainder of the class is invited to inattention and the person himself may be so frightened that he or she will not be able to concentrate on the question. For these same reasons, the leader should avoid following a predictable order.
2. The teacher should sometimes ask for volunteers, and especially in connection with those questions which the members of the class were not asked to consider beforehand. The general suggestion is made because at times those who might otherwise be reluctant to speak will respond in regard to questions in which they are particularly interested. The main danger in this procedure is that certain students will tend to dominate the class. The more specific aspect of the suggestion is made in order to promote fairness, since it is hardly right to expect a particular person to answer a question for which he or she was not expected to prepare.
3. The leader should not ask thought questions and expect a reply before the students have time to think. Members of a group need time to reflect on questions, especially if the questions are profound or if there was no prior preparation for them. It is a fallacy for the teacher to consider a lull after the stating of an inquiry as something to be avoided at all costs. In fact, unless there is a legitimate period of silence after questions, the replies to them will probably be superficial. It is a good practice for the
21 This statement, which is loaded with significance, may be found in the section on questioning in Dr. Horne’s book entitled “Story-telling, Questioning, and Studying.” The writer of this manual has found this section very helpful, as well as the material on pages 42–44 of another of Dr. Horne’s books, “The Leadership of Bible Study Groups.”
leader to think of the correct answer himself while the members of the group are formulating their replies.
4. Similarly, a person should not ask a number of inquiries because there is no immediate response to the first question or because he or she anticipates that there will be none. One question should be asked of the class. If after a reasonable pause there is no answer, then the teacher may employ one or more auxiliary or secondary questions whose purpose it is to lead the students to discover the meaning and intent of the original or primary question.
5. One should not habitually repeat questions, for to do so encourages inattention.
6. The leader should not give the impression that he or she is “fishing for an answer,” but rather is encouraging students to think for themselves on the basis of the data which accessible to them. A question should not be asked in such a manner as to make the class member feel that he or she must be a mind-reader in order to answer it properly.
7. The teacher should not reveal anxiety in his or her questioning. They should be relaxed at all times if they expect the class to be at ease and do its best. Questioning should be, as much as possible, an enjoyable experience for all concerned.
8. If a question requires introductory remarks for its understanding, such remarks should generally precede rather than follow it. If lengthy explanatory statements are made after the question is stated, chances are that it will be forgotten. If in a particular case remarks are needed after a question is expressed, it is well to repeat the question.
G. Answers to Questions and Their Use
This aspect is closely related to the preceding one and involves both the preparation of the answers on the part of the leader as well as the use of the replies given by the class. We shall now set forth certain principles and recommendations which are concerned with both of these phases.
1. One should have a specific and correct reply to a question before one asks the question. In fact, it is well to write out the answers
beforehand and test their accuracy. It is profitable to write more than just a statement or two. One should elaborate the answer and try to make it vivid, compelling, and sometimes even dramatic. One may use imagery and illustrations when possible and necessary. Teachers should try writing answers of a page or two on each question, using as forceful and clear and fresh terminology as possible. They should attempt to make their replies so lucid that they will stimulate the mind and open up new vistas of thought and experience. One should by all means avoid prosaic, dry, stereotyped, matter-of-fact answers. In a word, teachers ought to discipline themselves to answer their own questions fully and well.
2. One should not insist on a certain formula in an answer and disregard those replies which do not employ a particular terminology. If teachers desire to use certain terms as a basis for organizing the lesson, let them contribute those terms themselves rather than expecting the answers of the students to embody them.
3. Find various ways and means of acknowledging answers courteously yet sincerely. Avoid employing repeatedly a certain expression after the answer to each question, such as “yes” or “all right.”
4. One should not repeat verbatim the correct replies of members of the class. If necessary they may be re-phrased so as to contribute to their forcefulness and clarity, or they may be acknowledged and related to some other aspect of the lesson. In any case, if the reply is correct, it should be recognized as such.
5. Use as much as possible of the answer of the student. Do not ask a question and fail in some way to use the answer given by the individual.
6. In fact, if the reply is not all that it should be, or even if it is totally in error, the teacher should tactfully lead the person by further questions to explore more deeply or to find the correct answer. For the purpose of questions is not merely to elicit the proper reply, but to enable the individual to grow mentally and spiritually.
7. It follows that the leader should not be satisfied with trite, superficial, or insincere answers. One should by further inquiry lead students to elaborate, clarify, and illustrate their replies.
8. Answers to questions should be kept inductive at all times. They should be grounded on the particulars of the text. The teacher will find that students often need to be reminded of this fact. It is wise frequently to ask the individual for the concrete bases for his or her answer. For it is important not only that the correct reply be made, but also that the one answering and the entire class as well be aware of the specific foundation for his or her reply.
9. One should generally avoid answering one’s own questions, since the class will soon learn that it pays not to respond. The teacher should be courteously persistent in his or her inquiry.
10. Once a question is asked, it is generally true that it should be pursued to its conclusion. Its answer should not be left indefinite or forgotten altogether.
H. Some “Do’s” and “Don’ts” Regarding Questions and Answers
1. Do:
a. be self-critical in the examination of your questioning procedure.
b. develop your ability to ask questions by scrutinizing Jesus’s use of questions in the Gospels as well as other Biblical questions, the Socratic questions in the Platonic dialogues, and the questions of outstanding Bible teachers.
c. make your questions clear and understandable without making them leading.
d. ask elucidative, heuristic, and value questions as well as the more objective factual ones in order to foster the student’s ability to think deeply and evaluate properly; employ questions which will result in vertical knowledge as well as horizontal knowledge.
e. use questions which will enable the student to see the unity of the Scriptures and of truth.
f. be selective in your questions, filling in yourself where questions are not profitable, necessary, or efficient.
g. be informal and spontaneous in your questioning, although you have planned carefully beforehand.
h. practice stating questions in various ways in order to avoid monotony in the framing of questions.
i. begin with the concrete and progress to the abstract in your questioning.
j. conceive of yourself as Socrates conceived of himself, that is, as a mental obstetrician whose incessant questions and proddings delivered human minds and enabled them to give birth to valid ideas.22
k. let your questions and answers penetrate words and symbols to the ideas and realities which they represent.
l. ask the same questions which the author or character of the passage would ask if they were present.
m. employ summary and synthetical questions as well as analytical ones.
n. use questions which will develop an independence of the teacher’s questions by training the student to ask himself questions.
2. Don’t:
a. ask too many questions and thus inject confusion and monotony into the situation.
b. let your questions be repetitious; give due regard to continuity.
c. fail to utilize previous preparation when it has occurred, or plan on it when it is absent.
d. assume too much in your questions or in the answers given.
22 This image is found in Plato’s dialogue entitled “The Theaetetus.”
e. spend too great a period of time on one question.
f. give the impression that you are the grand inquisitor or an official of the law putting the class through the third degree.
g. lead the members of the group to think that they must please you rather than find the truth.
h. let the students feel that their answers are always inaccurate or incomplete.
i. be unfair in your questioning, expecting more than you have a right to expect.
j. pretend you know the full answers to every question.
k. use other people’s questions unless they have become your own.
l. ask questions which are not essential to the lesson.
m. be doing something which makes impossible your being attentive when a student is answering a question.
n. encourage hasty, vague, unanalytical answers.
o. ask questions without being ready also to answer them.
p. confuse saying a thing with conveying it.
q. forget that true and profound Biblical knowledge is caught and self-taught rather than transmitted.23
I. Exercise on Questions and Answers
Consult the exercise on interpretation given in the section on methodical study. Consider the passages in connection with which you raised interpretative questions and framed interpretative answers. Select among those questions the ones which are strategic and which may be used to touch the units on which they are based. Analyze each question as to its source, general development, purpose, and specific kind. Re-phrase the questions and elaborate and clarify the answers if necessary. Plan lessons around these questions,
23 Editors’ Note: Prof. Traina had an endnote marker “10” here but there was no corresponding endnote 10.
keeping before you the principles and suggestions found in the preceding pages.
V. Illustrations in Bible Teaching24
A. The General and Specific Functions of Illustrations
1. General Function
Etymologically and broadly speaking, to “illustrate” means to cast light or luster upon a particular subject.
2. Specific Functions
In view of this general definition, the illustration in Scriptural teaching will have one or more of the following concrete purposes.
a. To Interpret or Clarify
This function may be accomplished in several ways. An example from experience may be given of the case in point, that is, a truth may be illustrated by exemplification. Paul’s reference to Abraham in Romans 4 involves this type of illustration. Or, on the other hand, a truth may be explained by the use of analogy, whether based on real life or on something from the world of imagination. Jesus’s parables are excellent samples of illustration by analogy.
b. To Substantiate
Both of the aforementioned means of explaining truth may also serve to support it. In fact, Paul’s use of the example of Abraham to clarify the meaning of justification by faith also functions to uphold his thesis that justification is by faith alone. Analogy may also be employed to substantiate a Biblical statement, although one must be careful not to misuse it in this regard. This is especially true in connection with analogies of the nature of parables, fables, and allegories, since physical truth is
24 The writer is greatly indebted to Broadus’s book “The Preparation and Delivery of Sermons” for the material in this section. This serves to emphasize the fact that the illustration of truth in Bible teaching is essentially the same as in other types of presentation. And what is true of illustrations is likewise true of some other aspects of teaching.
never identical with spiritual truth. However, even this type of illustration has corroborative value, as Jesus Himself so forcefully demonstrated.25
c. To Arouse and Hold Attention
Every speaker or teacher has experienced how an audience or a class will sit up and take notice when an illustration begins. This is especially true when the discussion has been rather profound and there has been the tendency to lose interest. Thus, one of the primary and important functions of the illustration is to excite and maintain attention.
d. To Provide Relaxation for the Mind
Closely related to the preceding purpose is that of giving rest to the mind when it has been engaging in arduous thought. An illustration will often relax a class and thus prepare it for more work. This function might be conceived as including that of ornamentation as well, that is, the adding of a certain texture or color to the discussion.
e. To Stir the Emotions and Will
Jesus’s parables afford an excellent demonstration of this particular aim of illustrations. There is no illustration which rouses the emotions as does the parable of the prodigal son, or none which excites the will as that of the good Samaritan. Illustrations may thus function very effectively to move people to action.
f. To Apply Truth
This goal may almost be combined with the preceding, except for the fact that it emphasizes the intellectual rather than the emotional or volitional. One of the best ways to demonstrate the precise ways in which a truth may be applied is to give an illustration of how others employed it. In this regard a good illustration becomes a good application
25 See Luke 10 for a striking example of this.
and likewise, we may note that a good application may serve as a good illustration.
g. To Aid the Memory
Truths are often remembered by their illustrations. A good illustration is therefore a valuable help to the memory.
B. The Sources of Illustrations
1. Observation of life nature, human experience, including that of children and especially religious experience, and one’s own personal life.
2. Imagination Plato’s myths are striking examples of this source of illustrations. Such illustrations should be presented and utilized as imaginary and not as real occurrences.
3. Science astronomy, geology, physics, zoology, etc.
4. Great teachers, preachers, thinkers, and expositors In using these as sources, one should not only note the content of the illustration, but the precise way in which it was used.
5. Anecdotes, proverbs, parables, fables, stories, etc.
6. History, both religious and so-called secular.
7. Great literature and other great art, such as music and painting poetry, novels, drama, biography, hymns, hymn stories, oratorios, pictures, etc.
8. Scriptures They provide a good source for illustrations, although they are usually overworked in this regard.
9. Current events and publications.
10. Anywhere wherever they appear or can be found, since the source of a good illustration is where you find it.
C. Principles and Practices in the Formulation and Use of Illustrations
1. The main point of the illustration should coincide with the essence of the truth being clarified. One should not depend on the incidentals of an illustration to provide the elucidation of the truth under consideration.
2. An illustration needs to be adapted to the particular situation in which it is being used. Frequently the same illustration cannot be expressed in identical words to explain different truths.
3. Seek for variety in illustrations both from the standpoint of their sources and their formulation.
4. Avoid controversial illustrations which will divert the interest of the hearers rather than direct it.
5. Avoid utilizing the fantastic to any great degree. Generally speaking, it is best to make illustrations practical and realistic, so as to give the impression that you are dealing with the hard realities of life and not with purely abstract concepts.
6. Illustrations should clarify rather than confuse a point. They should therefore not be used if the illustrations themselves need illustration or explanation.
7. Try testing your illustrations. Practice stating them to someone and then asking him or her to summarize their primary ideas in a sentence.
8. Use enough illustrations on the one hand, and yet be careful not to employ too many on the other. Avoid using no illustrations or making your lesson merely a series of illustrations. Remember that although illustrations are important, yet they are subordinate. They should therefore be included only when they make a specific and significant contribution to the ongoing development of the lesson. A story should never be told for its own sake.
9. Use the kind of illustration and the terminology which befit the group being taught. Appropriate your illustrations to the needs, interests, capacity, and experience of your class.
10. Let your illustrations be brief enough so that the attention of the class is not turned from the truth illustrated to the illustrations themselves. However, do not make them so concise that they do not serve their purpose or leave serious questions in the minds of the listeners.
11. Use illustrations which are relevant and, whenever necessary, make their relevancy abundantly clear. Watch closely the transition between the subject and the illustration and back to the subject again. It is often helpful to insert a summary sentence either before or after an illustration.
12. Let each illustration clarify only one point.
13. State the illustrations as clearly and pointedly as possible, eliminating all excess verbiage.
14. One’s illustrations should engage the emotions, imagination, and will as well as the intellect. In a word, they should appeal to the whole person.
15. Keep human interest in illustrations. Avoid too much of the purely conceptual and the technical.
16. Change your tone of voice in illustrating truth. This will serve to relax the group and break the monotony of tone which frequently develops.
17. Be on the lookout for illustrations, and devise some means of filing them for future use.
D. Exercise on Illustrations
Formulate in full some illustrations on the passages utilized in the exercise on questions and answers in Bible teaching, keeping before you the principles and suggestions heretofore made. Analyze them as to their source and precise function.
VI. Summary in Bible Teaching
Each Bible lesson should move to a view of the whole, which should occur prior to the final evaluation and application. In fact, at times such an integration and summarization of the individual parts of the passage and lesson will constitute the conclusion or climax of the lesson, especially if such a procedure implicitly or explicitly includes the aspects of evaluation and application. At any rate, each teaching procedure should have near or as its conclusion a unification of the whole. This may be accomplished through the use of the summary question or by other means.
Such a summary should involve a clear and forceful integration of the lesson as-a-whole. The teacher should be careful to indicate lucidly how the various parts of the Biblical unit are gathered up in the summary. The summary should also be phrased cogently so as to provide either the preparation for the climactic application or the climax itself. Every lesson should progress to a peak or climax, and the final summarization serves an important function in regard to it.
Exercise: Prepare a lesson summary of one or more of the passages you have been utilizing.
VII. Evaluation and Application in Bible Teaching
A. The Importance of Evaluation and Application
The application of Biblical truth is that for which all else exists, whether it be in study or in teaching. Spurgeon once said, “Where application begins, there the sermon begins.” This may be said also of Scriptural teaching. If this is true, then evaluation is important as well, since it is that which prepares for and makes possible valid application.
B. The Place of Evaluation and Application
There are two primary views as to the place of these aspects in the lesson proper. The first is that evaluation and application should occur only at the culmination of the lesson and thus form its climax and conclusion. Various reasons are given in support of this standpoint. It is said that only after thorough observation and interpretation are the clues prepared for the appraisal and application of a Biblical unit. And this is equivalent to saying that application must await the completion of the bulk of the lesson. Further, it is suggested that one main evaluation and application at the end of the lesson leaves one major impression on the mind of the listeners, which is pedagogically sound. The second view is that evaluation and application may occur during the process of the lesson as well as form the conclusion of the lesson. Those who share this opinion maintain that though it is true that judicial criticism and application must follow observation and interpretation, it should be remembered that the leader has already studied the whole, so that whatever he or she does in the way of evaluation and application may take that fact into account. Further, there may be a final integrating evaluation and application at the conclusion which summarizes all the others and thus leaves the listeners with one primary idea. In addition, there is the fact that value-judgments and applications cannot always be avoided during the lesson. As we have already noted, a good illustration will frequently involve the employment of Biblical truth, and applications are sometimes needed to clarify the statements of a passage. Students will in certain cases suggest appraisals
and applications. Moreover, it is best to assess the worth of certain parts and apply them while they are fresh in mind rather than wait until the conclusion of the lesson. In view of these arguments, it seems to the writer that the second view is more valid and practical than the first, although it is true that evaluation and application should primarily occur at the end of the teaching procedure and that, when it does, it should function as the climax of the lesson. The remainder of the discussion is therefore founded on this particular view.
C. The Purposes of Evaluation and Application
1. To discover the validity and relevance of Scriptural statements and subsequently to discover how they may be employed in life. This involves the theoretical application of truth.
2. To provide practical and concrete suggestions which will enable the class to put into action that which it has learned.
3. To motivate and persuade the listeners to action. Thus, application should appeal to the emotions and the will as well as to the intellect. This function may be realized in several ways, one of which is the hortatory approach, used so effectively by Paul in his epistles.
4. To comfort as well as to instruct and stimulate. Applications should not always “harp” on weaknesses; they should, when legitimate, indicate to the listener the great value of that which he or she possesses.
D. Kinds of Evaluation and Application
1. The Direct Kind
This type appraises and applies Scriptural statements in a straightforward manner. It involves saying, in effect, “This is how this passage is relevant to your experience and may be employed in it. “The book of Jude is a forceful example of such a procedure.
2. The Indirect Kind
This involves evaluation and application by example or by analogy. It is, in fact, appraisal and application by illustration. Nathan’s approach to David (2 Samuel 12) was primarily of this type, although he made it direct by the statement “Thou art the man.”
E. Characteristics of Good Evaluation and Application
1. Justifiable This needs no further explanation, since it was discussed in the section on “Evaluation and Application” in methodical Bible study.
2. Personal They should make a concrete difference to each individual, even if they be concerned with the truths which have national and universal significance. Each person should leave the lesson with something specific which he or she can and should do as a result of it. The common practice of evaluating and applying Biblical statements for the absent party, such as the socalled “Modernist,” should be diligently avoided.
3. Realistic, Practical They should be grounded on the hard facts of existence, and not consist of the stuff dreams are made of. For those who in appraising and applying Scriptural truth overlook actual problems and difficulties and pretend that the whole matter is very simple will not be effective in their teaching.
4. Natural, Easy They should not be forced, extraneous or superimposed on the passage. They should be the logical outgrowth of the statements themselves. It is helpful to make a smooth and clear transition between interpretation and evaluation and application.
5. Compelling Evaluation and application should be of such a nature and so expressed as to move people to action.
6. Constructive The aim should be the upbuilding of the listeners rather than their tearing down.
7. Specific, Definite The members of the group should know exactly where they stand in relation to the truths of a Biblical unit.
8. Up-to-date, Relevant They should be pertinent to the very day on which the lesson is being taught.
9. Suggestive Certain concrete lines of action should be indicated which may be followed by the listeners.
10. Varied Both direct and indirect approaches should be used. Further, there should be variety as to the spheres with which the evaluations and applications are concerned, that is, they should be addressed not only to one’s personal life, but to the
individual as a member of a local church and community, or a nation and a denomination, and of the universal Church and the world.
11. Integrated If evaluations and applications are made during the process of the lesson, they should all have a common goal and purpose; they should contribute to the main stream of the lesson.
12. Inclusive Leaders should include themselves in their evaluations and applications. Further, he or she should direct remarks to the entire class and not to a few individuals in it. 26
Exercise on Evaluation and Application: Consider the passages which were evaluated and applied in the section on study. Think in terms of appraising and applying these units in and for a concrete class situation. What determinant factors must be given careful thought? Formulate fully your applications. Analyze them from the standpoint of their place in the lesson, their purposes, and their kinds. Attempt to determine whether they exemplify the characteristics of good evaluation and application set forth in the preceding discussion.
VIII. Introductions in Bible Teaching
The reader may wonder why the matter of introductions is treated in this place rather than at the outset of the section on teaching. The reason is that the introduction should be one of the last phases of the lesson to be prepared if the procedure is to be methodical; for a good introduction presupposes a knowledge of the contents and direction of the lesson as-a-whole, just as building a good porch on a house presupposes a knowledge of the nature of the building proper.
A. Functions and Kinds of Introductions
1. General Function
All introductions, no matter what their particular purposes may be, should serve to interest the hearers in that which will follow. This fact should be uppermost in the mind of the teacher as he or she prepares the introduction. For, if the attention of the group is not engaged at the very outset of the lesson, it may be
26 It may be noted that this section is primarily concerned with application rather than evaluation, since evaluation exists for the purpose of application.
permanently lost. It is therefore of supreme importance that the introduction be so designed as to capture the interest of the class.
2. Specific Functions and Kinds
Besides this general function, an introduction may involve one or more particular purposes. As a means of indicating what these may be, we shall now list the main types of introductions. It should be noted that these types of introductions are not mutually exclusive; therefore, two or more of them may actually be combined at times. However, since it is usually true that one particular function dominates over the others, the following names may be validly employed to classify introductions.
a. Atmospheric Introduction This type has as its function the creating of the atmosphere of the lesson by re-creating the spirit and mood of the passage.
b. Problematical or Applicatory Introduction The problematical or applicatory introduction attempts to set forth the problem with which the lesson and unit of Scripture will be concerned and to which they will apply. It therefore not only focusses the attention of the group upon a particular issue, but it also serves to indicate the relevance of the lesson. At times the problematical introduction may be expanded in order to utilize the problem approach to a Scriptural unit. In such instances, a substantial part of the class period is used to discuss the exact nature and ramifications of a particular problem in order to whet the appetite and provide insight into the solution which is found in the passage being studied.
c. Historical Introduction It is often needful and helpful to depict the historical background of a portion of Scripture in order to make its study more meaningful. The source for such a background may either be Biblical or extra-Biblical.
d. Contextual Introduction The purpose of this kind of introduction is to set forth the context of the passage being studied in such cases where an awareness of the context is essential to the understanding of the passage.
e. Explanatory or Procedural Introduction This serves to elucidate the main steps of the lesson by suggesting what they
will be, together with their grounds and purposes. It thus interprets the procedure which is to be followed in order to enhance the comprehension of its aim and integrality.
f. Thematic Introduction
It is sometimes beneficial to begin a lesson by presenting its major theme. One should be cautious, however, not to make habitual use of this type of introduction, since it tends to make the lesson deductive rather than inductive.
g. Review or Re-examinational Introduction The review or reexaminational introduction is used in connection with a lesson in a series of lessons. Its purpose is either to go back over what has been done in order to re-learn it and to prepare for what follows, or to reconsider from a different point of view that which has already been treated us a means of introducing a particular lesson.
There are other kinds of introductions, but these are the major types. The teacher should attempt to classify his or her introductions in terms of these and related categories in order to be aware of their specific function or functions. For it is important that the teacher know the precise purpose of the introductions he or she employs.
B. Qualities of Effective Introductions
1. They are preparatory in regard to the lesson and do not detract substantially from it.
2. They are simple, involving one idea preferably. It is best, generally speaking, not to use heavy or involved introductions.
3. They are concise and yet not too concise, since too abrupt an introduction fails to prepare the class psychologically for the lesson.
4. They are connected with the body of the lesson by a clear, smooth, and legitimate transition, since the transition often makes or breaks the introduction.
5. They are relevant to the lesson and their relevancy is apparent to the class.
6. They do not raise any serious barriers which may hinder the progress of the lesson.
7. They contain nothing which is foreign to the body of the lesson.
8. They establish a point of contact between teacher and listeners.
9. They are specific rather than vaguely general.
10. They introduce the whole lesson instead of the first part of it, and thus may be utilized and capitalized upon throughout the procedure.
11. They have variety as to type and phraseology.
12. They are suited to the nature of the passage and the nature of the class. They are accommodated to the lesson, just as a porch is accommodated to the house, and not vice versa.
C. Exercise on Introductions: Prepare introductions to several of the passages which you have been using in the preceding exercises on methodical teaching. Attempt to formulate two or three kinds of introductions to each Biblical unit, employing the principles heretofore set forth. Write them out in full. Analyze each as to its specific function and type.
IX. BLACKBOARD WORK IN BIBLE TEACHING
A. General and Specific Functions of Blackboard Work
1. Utilizes the eye-gate in teaching.
2. Helps to provide a unified, overall impression of the whole.
3. Gives students time to take notes.
4. Indicates what the teacher deems to be most important.
5. Provides the basis for talking about the various parts of a passage, especially from the standpoint of their relations to one another, since connections are very often seen with a force that cannot be duplicated by the mere use of words.
6. Demonstrates the way in which visual aids may be used in study.
7. Facilitates the student’s ability to follow the progress of the lesson.
B. Some Types of Blackboard Work
1. Charts or diagrams.
2. Outlines.
3. Listings.
4. Pictures and object lessons.
5. Informational notes, such as the spelling of words, references, etc.
6. Maps.
C. Principles and Suggestions for Blackboard Work
1. What is written on the board should be legible from any part of the room. This is a difficult suggestion to carry out and yet it should be followed as closely as possible.
2. Blackboard work should leave an integrated, overall impression. It should clarify rather than confuse the structure of the lesson.
3. It should represent and reflect the lesson by stressing the same idea or ideas as the lesson as-a-whole.
4. It should be planned beforehand, but should be flexible and adaptable as the need arises. There is little chance that blackboard work which results from an experimental or laboratory approach will be neat, precise, and completely in accordance with a predetermined plan.
5. It should show the major relationships between parts and provide the student with perspective.
6. It should reveal definite organization.
7. It should neither include too much nor too little.
8. It should be self-explanatory as much as possible.
9. Generally speaking, blackboard work should not be placed on the board before the class begins, since it distracts the attention of the group. Members of the class will often read or copy what is there while the teacher is presenting his or her introduction. Further, to write things on the board beforehand tends to make the procedure deductive rather than inductive, formal rather than informal.
10. It should represent a combination of the work and thought of the teacher and the members of the study group.
D. Exercise on Blackboard Work
Plan the blackboard work on some of the units you have been treating, utilizing the principles and suggestions in the preceding pages.
X. EXERCISES IN BIBLE TEACHING
A. Definition of’ “Exercise”
This phase of Bible teaching has commonly been called “assignments.” However, such a name does not accurately describe their underlying purpose and most significant function. For an “assignment,” according to Webster, is “a duty or piece of work allotted as the responsibility of a particular person or group.” The emphasis is therefore on the obligation laid upon the student because the leader has authoritatively commanded that the work be done. On the other hand, Webster defines “exercise” as “exertion for the sake of training and improvement, whether physical, intellectual, or moral.” This comes much closer to the outstanding intent of the phase being discussed, since the stress is upon the benefits and values which may derive from it rather than the responsibility which is attached to it because of external authority. In a word, its compulsion is inward rather than outward; it is not of the law, but of grace. In view of these facts, then, we shall utilize the term “exercise” rather than “assignment.”
B. Purposes of Exercises
The outstanding aim of exercises has already been discussed in a measure in the preceding paragraph. However, it will be beneficial both to elaborate this function and to suggest another. Exercises have two primary purposes.
1. They are the means of training and developing the student in regard to knowledge, skills, insight, and independence.
2. They prepare the student for more effective participation in the class procedure and for a greater understanding of what occurs therein.
The first of these is undoubtedly the most significant of the functions of exercises. In fact, so important is it that the writer has made this startling statement to his classes, namely, that if he were forced to choose between their attending the formal session or doing the exercises outside of class, he would without hesitation choose the latter.
The key term in the description of this purpose is “independence.” Exercises should intend to train the student to swim for
himself or herself so that, when the life belt is removed, he or she will not drown. This implies that exercises should not be so formulated that students are told everything that they must do, but should rather be framed so as to provide them with an opportunity to utilize their own initiative. To change the image, exercises should not serve as crutches, but rather as guides within which there is room for personal expression.
In order to realize this purpose, exercises should involve primarily and first of all the first-hand study of the vernacular. This does not mean that there will be no place for the examination of secondary sources. But the initial approach should involve the firsthand examination of the Scriptures if an independent Bible student is to be developed.
The second and secondary function of exercises is to prepare the member of the class for intelligent participation in and an understanding appreciation of that which is done in the formal session. In regard to this purpose, there are two kinds or exercises: a. the supplementary exercise, and b. the parallel or identical exercise. The former serves to supplement that which is to occur in the class period. It takes a different approach from that to be followed in the formal session, and yet it complements that which occurs there. The latter type involves the exercise which contains the exact questions which will be used in class, the assumption being that because of the aggregate mind of the students and the contribution of the teacher the formal session will not be a mere repetition of individual study but will rather transcend it. Both of these types are valid and which of them is used in a particular instance will depend on the nature of the class and the subject matter being discussed.
C. Structure of Exercises
Exercises may be classified into two main categories in terms or their structure. The first is the purely progressive type, each question or suggestion involving a distinct and further step in the process. All of the individual questions are progressively numbered and none of them is grouped together. The second kind, though progressive, is concentric and topical as well. It includes both general and subordinate specific questions, as well as questions which are repetitious in that they express the same thing in different words or approach the same problem from various angles. In this instance
certain suggestions are grouped together, such as those which are virtually synonymous.
The first of these is simpler to follow, but the second utilizes certain pedagogical principles which may enable the exercise better to accomplish its purpose. For as we have already stated, truth has so many phases and the finite mind is so limited in its ability to grasp and penetrate them that whatever can be used to assist it should by all means be employed. One inevitably finds that others seldom catch the full significance and force of the suggestions one makes. It therefore seems salutary to approach the subject from various standpoints and to state things in different ways so us to goad and stimulate the mind in order that it may function incisively.
D. Miscellaneous Principles and Suggestions for the Formulation and Use of Exercises
1. There are two dangers in the formulation of exercises: a. the lack of clarity, and b. the lack of questions which require insight and develop independence. One should attempt to avoid both of these swamps. The suggestions should be expressed as lucidly as possible, and yet they should include both heuristic and value questions whose answers do not depend on merely reading and copying the words of the text.
2. The nature of the passage being studied should determine the general structure of the exercise. If the passage is so constructed that it should be approached interpretatively, the exercise should be interpretative; if the passage is so arranged that it should be approached structurally, the exercise should be structural. For the specific factors involved here, consult the section on “Lesson Structure and Development.”
3. Exercises should be suited to the capacities of their participants. A six-year-old child is not given a two-hundred-pound weight in order to develop his or her physic.
4. Exercises should always include summary questions.
5. They should be characterized by definite development and progress, and the connections between the successive suggestions should be made as clear as possible. their major units should stand out, if such there be.
6. General questions should be utilized in order to train the student to become independent.
7. The exercise should be prepared after the passage has been thoroughly studied and after the lesson has been planned, and both of these factors should be taken into account in its formulation.
8. Self-reflection is helpful in the framing of exercises. It is often beneficial to retrospect regarding the particular steps one followed in study and to pattern the exercise after those procedures. Of course, such a practice is not always wise and should be followed with discretion. However, it is based on a valid principle, namely, that minds are basically similar and that they function in much the same way.
9. All unnecessary questions should be deleted from the exercise in order to conserve time and avoid confusion.
10. Let your exercises be varied and imaginative.
11. Exercises should at one time or another include all four aspects of methodical study, namely, observation, interpretation, evaluation and application, and correlation. Of course, all of these do not need to be injected into every exercise.
12. It is often helpful to accompany the giving of exercises with explanatory remarks and suggestions as to which questions are most significant, how much time should be spent on each, and the reasons and purposes of the questions. The last of these is especially important, since to know the “why” of things enhances an intelligent doing of them.
13. Exercises should be used whenever possible, even in lay situations. Laymen need to be developed and trained as well as professional workers, and one is surprised how much they too are willing to “exercise” if they are motivated in the proper way.
14. Exercises may be of two types as to the completeness with which they should be done. The first may be called the exhaustive kind, which is meant to be carried out fully. The second is the suggestive type, which indicates lines of study which may be partially completed for a particular class period, but whose possibilities may be altogether beyond realization. Most
exercises are of the latter kind, and students ought to be made aware of that fact.
15. In the class period the teacher should capitalize as much as possible on the exercise given to the students. It is well frequently to call attention to the meaning and signification of its suggestions.
16. The superficial and hasty doing of exercises should be discouraged. The essential need for concentration and meditation should be stressed. Students should be urged to put Biblical statements into their own words and elaborate them. In fact, it would be helpful for the teacher to demonstrate the potentialities of certain suggestions as well as the concrete means of following them.
It should be noted that many of the suggestions made in the discussion on “The Formulation and Use of Questions and Answers,” although applicable in this connection were not repeated. The reader is urged to discover wherein this holds true.
E. Exercise on Exercises
Formulate exercises in connection with the Scriptural units you have been utilizing in the preceding projects. Be guided both in your formulation and in your analysis by the principles and suggestions given in the discussion.
XI. (ILLUSTRATIONS ON METHOD IN BIBLE TEACHING)
Again, the parentheses indicate a vision rather than an actuality. The writer anticipates that at some future time he will be able to take the same passages employed in the proposed illustrations at the close of the section on methodical study and demonstrate how lesson plans may be prepared for teaching them.
XII. CONCLUSION
The reader has probably deduced by this time that one cannot learn methodicalness in Bible study and teaching by merely reading the preceding discussion on the subject. This is true not only because of the limitations of this treatment, among them that of brevity, but primarily because of the nature of the subject itself. Methodicalness cannot be
taught like geometric theorems or algebraic formulas. The purpose of this manual has therefore been to indicate certain basic principles and concrete procedures whose personal evaluation and adaptation and thoughtful and persistent application will enable the reader to develop methodicalness in study and teaching. This presentation, then, has been merely suggestive. It has set forth some means by which one may teach oneself to become orderly and logical, For, in the last analysis, methodicalness must be self-taught if it is to be realized. If, then, the preceding pages have motivated the reader to think seriously about methodicalness in Bible study and teaching, they have accomplished their purpose.
The writer is acutely aware of the inadequacy of this manual in view of the subjects it purports to treat. Further, he knows that it will need constant revision. However, in spite of its limitations, it is hoped that it will contribute to the accomplishment of the worthwhile goals of effective Bible study and teaching.
Learning from D: Reading Pentateuchal Law with a
View Toward Moral Instruction or Catechesis
Benjamin J. Aich
Asbury Theological Seminary benjamin.aich@asburyseminary.edu
Abstract: This paper investigates Deuteronomy’s (‘D’) reading of Exodus (‘C’) in order to hear from the Mosaic voice through D, so that today’s interpreters would apprentice themselves to this author of pentateuchal law. The result of this apprenticeship might be the church’s growth in the Lord through moral instruction and catechesis, for D read C intending to promote obedience for the life of Israel. A second but equally important result of this apprenticeship might be a more profound understanding/reading of pentateuchal law rightly and sufficiently among God’s people.
Keywords: hermeneutics, Deuteronomic Code, Covenant Code, pentateuchal law, history of interpretation, theological interpretation, child rebellion laws, Inductive Bible Study, Christian reading of the Law; Paul, Philo of Alexandria, David I. Starling
Introduction
How Christians should relate to pentateuchal law continues to captivate and nonplus serious readers of Scripture.1 On the one hand, notwithstanding the difficulties surrounding the interpretation of the
1 By “pentateuchal law,” I am referring primarily to the Covenant Code (hereafter “C”; Exod 20:22–23:19), the Holiness Code (hereafter “H”; Lev 17–26), and the Deuteronomic Code (hereafter “D”; Deut 12–26). For some works regarding this question, see Roy Gane, Old Testament Law for Christians: Original Context and Enduring Application (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2017); Patrick D. Miller, The Ten Commandments, Interpretation, Resources for the Use of Scripture in the Church (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2009); Dale Patrick, Old Testament Law (Atlanta: John Knox, 1985); John H. Walton and J. Harvey Walton, The Lost World of the Torah: Law as Covenant and Wisdom in Ancient Context (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2019); William J. Webb, Slaves, Women & Homosexuals: Exploring the Hermeneutics of Cultural Analysis (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2001); Christopher J. H. Wright, Old Testament Ethics for the People of God (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2004).
passage, Jesus came to fulfill the law in some sense (Matt 5:17; 7:12). In the same Gospel, he is especially critical of those who would transgress God’s commandments given through Moses (Matt 15:3–6; cf. Mark 7:8–13), accentuating how it is incumbent upon God’s people to esteem Mosaic law. Luke’s Gospel concurs, particularly insofar as Mosaic law bears witness to Jesus’s person (Luke 24:44), and the rest of the NT witness underscores Jesus’s sinlessness and therefore presumable obedience to the law of Moses as correctly interpreted (Acts 3:14; 2 Cor 5:21; Heb 4:15; 7:26; 1 Pet 2:22; 1 John 3:5). On the other hand, at least on the surface, Paul may appear to be antinomian to various readers, as even many detractors in his day accused him of being (cf. Acts 21:21; Rom 3:8). But for Paul, although the law was only a temporary guardian unable to lead to the life now available to believers through faith (Gal 3:12, 25; cf. Lev 18:5), it was still good and holy (Rom 7:12), and its righteous requirement was to be fulfilled in those who would walk according to the Spirit (Rom 8:4) in love (Rom 13:8–10; Gal 5:14).
Thus, again for Paul, while pentateuchal law might not have been able to transform people, a role attributed instead to faith and the Spirit of Christ, it continued to be righteous, just, and highly esteemed. Indeed, the so-called law codes (particularly D) even became indispensable for him as he wrestled with how to instruct and guide the sinful Corinthians.2 This portrait of Paul comports well with the claim from 2 Tim 3:16–17 that all (or every) Scripture is inspired by God and advantageous “for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the person dedicated to God may be capable and equipped for every good work” (NET).3
A brief examination of pentateuchal law as understood in the NT therefore suggests that it was essential to the life of the early church. Christ-followers were to walk by the Spirit in love and thus have the law’s righteous requirement fulfilled in them; they were to be instructed and guided by the law in regard to their ongoing life together;
2 Most noteworthy is Paul’s use of Deuteronomy in regard to the case of the incestuous man of 1 Cor 5, whom Paul urges the Corinthians to remove from among themselves (1 Cor 5:13; cf. Deut 13:5; 17:7, 12; 19:19; 21:21; 22:21). Another famous case pertains to Paul’s use of Deut 25:4 (on not muzzling the threshing ox) in 1 Cor 9:9 to buttress his argument for the rights of those who proclaim the gospel.
3 I have chosen this translation here because of its deft handling of ὁ τοῦ θεοῦ ἄνθρωπος, rendering it helpfully as “the person dedicated to God.” Other translations of Scripture will be my own unless noted otherwise.
they were to recognize the law’s fundamental witness to the person of Jesus, the fulfiller of the law, who allowed himself to be instructed by God through the law; and they were to be equipped for every good work through the use of the law as God-breathed Scripture.
All the above assumes that Christians in general, whether captivated or nonplussed (or some combination of both), must become excellent, careful readers of pentateuchal law not neglecting it, not abusing it, not ascribing to it the role of the Spirit, but considering it enthusiastically and rightly, as did Jesus, Paul, and other prominent NT figures.4 John Chrysostom (c. 347–407 CE) exemplifies this type of reflection on the law, bringing his reading together with Jesus’s and Paul’s, when he conveys the following thoughts:
For since the law was laboring at this, to make man righteous, but had not power, [Jesus] came and brought in the way of righteousness by faith, and so established that which the law desired: and what the law could not by letters, this [Jesus] accomplished by faith. On this account [Jesus] saith, ‘I am not come to destroy the law.’ [Matt 5:17]5
The operative question or issue at hand, then, is not how Christians should relate to pentateuchal law as much as how they should read and interpret it.6
David I. Starling has elaborated on how the human writers of Scripture, who engaged in inner-biblical hermeneutics, can teach them how
4 For more on this “right approach,” see Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 176. For more on Paul as a reader and interpreter of Torah, there is perhaps no better text available than Francis Watson’s Paul and the Hermeneutics of Faith (2nd ed., Cornerstones [London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2016]).
5 John Chrysostom, Homilies on the Gospel of Saint Matthew 16.3 (NPNF1 10:105).
6 I grant that these are not mutually exclusive options, but the emphasis certainly differs. Moreover, the matter of relating to the law, for some, might depend entirely on their interpretation of the NT, and so relating and reading would not function as such close allies after all. Likewise, it is commonplace for Christians to think that they are reading pentateuchal law when, in reality, they are replacing it with content from the NT through overdeveloped spiritual readings. This is not to say that spiritual readings are unimportant (they are indispensable), but they can be abused to the point of becoming functionally Marcionite. For the ideas from these last two sentences, I am indebted to Paul Niskanen, “Catholic Hermeneutics of the Old Testament,” SVTQ 63 (2019): 191–211, esp. at 211.
to do this hard work of reading/interpreting well.7 Using several case studies to shed light on the interpretation of earlier biblical texts by later ones, Starling invites Christians to learn to become better readers of Scripture from the biblical authors, above all by apprenticing themselves to them. The most notable case in Starling’s text vis-à-vis the present study is his analysis of Deuteronomy and the hermeneutics of law.8 For Starling, Deuteronomy is “a book of interpretation,” wherein Moses “is presented more as an interpreter and a prophet than as a legislator (cf. 1:5; 34:10).”9 Through Moses’s speeches and interpretations, the people were to learn how to read the law, and God’s people today may continue to learn from Moses in a comparable fashion.10
Thesis
Similarly, though without Starling’s attention to the person of Moses,11 this paper focuses on Deuteronomy as a book of interpretation. More specifically, it explores D’s use of C with reference to the child rebellion laws (Exod 21:15, 17; Deut 21:18–21) in order to learn from the Mosaic voice through D, so that modern interpreters (esp. Christians) would begin to apprentice themselves to this scriptural voice. At the end of the day, and following D’s influence on the history of interpretation, such teaching may come to fruition when today’s students discover what it means to read pentateuchal law in general, and the child rebellion laws in particular, with a view toward moral instruction or catechesis (cf. 2 Tim 3:16). In other words, commencing with D, there exists a robust tradition to hear when it comes to comprehending the law well, rightly, and sufficiently for the life of the church.
Outline
This thesis will unfold through four primary steps. First, the most persuasive and widespread view regarding the direction of influence between
7 David I. Starling, Hermeneutics as Apprenticeship: How the Bible Shapes Our Interpretive Habits and Practices (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2016).
8 Starling, Hermeneutics as Apprenticeship, 35–46.
9 Starling, Hermeneutics as Apprenticeship, 37.
10 Starling, Hermeneutics as Apprenticeship, 45–46.
11 In Deuteronomy, I find it helpful to speak of “Moses’s voice” or the “Mosaic voice,” and I credit the following study for this articulation: Bill T. Arnold, “Deuteronomy as the Ipsissima Vox of Moses,” JTI 4 (2010): 53–74.
C and D, namely that the latter read and employed the former as a source, will be surveyed. More specifically, this assessment will be conducted with reference to the use of the child rebellion laws in Exod 21:15, 17 by Deut 21:18–21. Second, a literary analysis of Deut 21:18–21 will be performed, predominantly through the theoretical frame-work of “major structural relationships,”12 in order to help illumine how D read C. Ultimately, this examination will show how Israel’s “hearing and fearing” functioned as D’s desired end for them apropos of the child rebellion laws. Third, how this sort of reading was carried on by Philo and Paul will be addressed.13 Fourth and finally, a proposal relating to how this legacy of reading might be perpetuated today by “D’s apprentices” will be presented for the life of the church.
D’s General Use of C in Relation to the Child Rebellion Laws
That D read and used C as a source is a commonly upheld position in the academic world. There are, of course, dissenters from this view, but their reasons for denying C as one of D’s sources or for placing D prior to C have largely failed to gain significant traction.14
Interpreting, Expanding, and Restricting
Precisely how D generally used C is a different question resulting in an assortment of emphases, and this reality holds true in regard to the
12 See the method (or approach) of Inductive Bible Study (IBS) in David R. Bauer and Robert A. Traina, Inductive Bible Study: A Comprehensive Guide to the Practice of Hermeneutics (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 94–134.
13 Relatedly, Bernard M. Levinson makes a fascinating comment about the Temple Scroll (11Q19), saying that its redactor “becomes the mature apprentice trained in the workshop of the Pentateuch redactor” (A More Perfect Torah: At the Intersection of Philology and Hermeneutics in Deuteronomy and the Temple Scroll, Critical Studies in the Hebrew Bible [Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2013], 41). I stumbled upon Levinson’s salient point here after developing this thesis.
14 Cf. Joseph Culbertson, “The Date of Composition of the Covenant Collection: A History of Research” (Paper submitted to Bill T. Arnold for OT936 Seminar in Pentateuchal Law, Wilmore, KY, 26 April 2022). On the later dating of C, see, e.g., John Van Seters, “Revision in the Study of the Covenant Code and a Response to My Critics,” SJOT 21 (2007): 5–28 and “Law of the Hebrew Slave: A Continuing Debate,” ZAW 119 (2007): 169–83. On some problems with Van Seters’s criteria for this dating, see Bernard S. Jackson, “Revolution in Biblical Law: Some Reflections on the Role of Theory in Methodology,” JSS 50 (2005): 83–115 at 90.
child rebellion laws (Exod 21:15, 17; Deut 21:18–21).15 This section will highlight a few scholars who ascertain D’s work through the concepts of interpretation, expansion, or restriction (plus some combination or extension of these). Eckart Otto has elaborated on D’s function as an interpretation (Auslegung) of C (das Bundesbuch).16 Less broadly, and with regard to the relevant child rebellion laws, Otto reflects on how family law transitions to local jurisdiction in Deut 21:18–21. But despite this migration of power from familial to local authorities, D retains the consequence of capital punishment for a rebellious child (21:21) and thus ultimately has its roots in the death sentence of Exod 21:17.17 Joseph Fleishman consistently argues that D uses C and that it sets out to restrict or reduce and define C’s scope of applicability, especially vis-à-vis the participial cases of child rebellion from Exod 21:15, 17.18 H. C. Brichto has contended that Deut 21:18–21 elaborates on Exod 21:17, illumining how the sort of “cursing” at play in the latter text is a continuous, recalcitrant kind.19 In this case, D is engaged in an act of interpretation that is quite slow (or perhaps even unwilling) to problematize or see the worst in a prior text. Put differently, C was not so bad as to be searching for opportunities to destroy some of the most
15 Bruce Wells (“The Interpretation of Legal Traditions in Ancient Israel,” HBAI 4 [2015]: 234–66 at 246, n. 45) has quite helpfully summarized D’s approach to C by recapitulating the foremost scholarly positions, namely that D took an ethical approach (Eckart Otto), an innovative one (Bernard M. Levinson), a secularizing one (Moshe Weinfeld), or a rationalizing one (Michael Fishbane). In the same place, he concludes that “it is unlikely that any one classification can account for all of D” and vies for a more general description. Similarly, my considerations in the following sections will center on general categories over against the more particular approaches espoused by the scholars in Wells’ summary.
16 Eckart Otto, Das Gesetz des Mose (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2007), 126–36. For more on D as an interpreter of legal texts, see Bernard M. Levinson, “The Hermeneutics of Tradition in Deuteronomy: A Reply to J. G. McConville,” JBL 119 (2000): 269–86, esp. 285–86
17 Otto, Gesetz, 156.
18 On the language of “restricting,” see Joseph Fleishman, “The Delinquent Daughter and Legal Innovation in Deuteronomy xxii 20-21,” VT 58 (2008): 191–210. On reducing the scope of C when it relates to Deut 21:18–21, see Joseph Fleishman, “Legal Innovation in Deuteronomy xxi 18-20,” VT 53 (2003): 311–27 at 319. Here, Fleishman writes, “the purpose of the law in Deuteronomy xxi 18-21 was to reduce significantly the scope of the delinquent behavior against parents punishable by death.”
19 H. C. Brichto, The Problem of “Curse” in the Hebrew Bible, JBL Monograph Series 13 (Philadelphia: Society of Biblical Literature and Exegesis, 1963), 134. For this reference, I am indebted to Dan Mendelsohn Aviv, “Teaching ‘the Stubborn and Rebellious Son’: Orthophagy, Adolescence, and Jewish Education,” Shofar 24 (2006): 110–29 at 112.
vulnerable among Israel (i.e., the children). In close correspondence to Brichto’s claim, Louis Stulman tersely notes that Deut 21:18–21 is an expansion of Exod 21:17, which evidently signifies the idea that D has more material not that it expands the applicability of C (contra Bruce Wells’ view of “expansion” below).20
Not content with only the language of expansion or development, Bruce Wells argues that D read C in terms of expansion and redirection. Although he is careful not to explain all of D with any single classification, Wells nevertheless posits a general description of D’s approach to C when he states that “D has a tendency to shift the focus or implementation of a tradition, to alter the remedy or final outcome, or to expand a law’s scope of application.”21 Striking here is Wells’ view of expansion in terms of extending the reach of a law. This take is certainly not what many other scholars (some surveyed above) intend when they suggest that Deut 21:18–21 is an expansion of Exod 21:17. Indeed, the “expanded” material of D in these cases in effect serves to restrict the scope of C’s application. Whether it should be the case or not, scholars continue to speak of D’s “expanding” tendencies in the child rebellion laws not with reference to their scope of application but instead with regard to their more elaborate legislative materials that in fact curb the law’s scope of application by constraining “autonomous household retribution to elder ruled legislation.” 22 At any rate, had Wells included Deut 21:18–21 in his article on the interpretation of legal traditions in Israel, he perhaps would have categorized it not in terms of this expansion but of redirection. That is to say, Israel would have implemented the death sentence of Exod 21:17 only in the case of the stubborn and rebellious son.23 However, in my judgment, the classification of “redirection” is not nearly as helpful in the case of Deut 21:18–21//Exod 21:17 as the articulation (cf. Fleishman and Boyd) that D simply restricts or reduces C’s scope of applicability.24
20 Louis Stulman, “Encroachment in Deuteronomy: An Analysis of the Social World of the D Code,” JBL 109 (1990): 613–32 at 624.
21 Wells, “The Interpretation of Legal Traditions in Ancient Israel,” 246.
22 Samuel L. Boyd, “Deuteronomy’s Prodigal Son: Deut. 21:18-21 and the Agenda of the D Source,” BibInt 28 (2020): 15–33 at 28.
23 And in similar cases of child rebellion with several specific features (e.g., Deut 22:20–21).
24 The same goes for the potential relationship between Exod 21:17 and Deut 22:20–21 (cf. Fleishman, “The Delinquent Daughter”).
Generalizing and Clarifying
A few scholars focus on D’s approach to C as generalizing or clarifying the material in the latter.25 Phillip R. Callaway suggests that the “striking” of Exod 21:15 and the “cursing” of Exod 21:17 “may be understood as illustrative instances from the Pentateuch of the general category ‘stubborn and rebellious behavior’ [from Deut 21:18–21].”26 Put differently, the stubborn and rebellious son of Deut 21:18–21 is the kind of person who would engage in the particular, condemned behaviors in Exod 21:15, 17. By demonstrating that the type of child from C who would strike or curse his parents would have to be stubborn, rebellious, gluttonous, and a drunkard (Deut 21:18, 20), D would, in this case, be supplying a significant clarification as to what C had in mind when furnishing the child rebellion laws.27
Concluding Statement
D more than likely read and used C as a source, and this point comes to bear especially on the relationship between Deut 21:18–21 and Exod 21:15, 17. Whether this interaction was primarily interpretive, expansive, restrictive, generalizing, clarifying, or some elusive combination of these categories is a matter of ongoing debate. The main point of this section has been to survey scholarly postures toward D’s general use of C with reference to the child rebellion laws of Deut 21:18–21 and Exod 21:15, 17. Such an investigation illustrates just how seriously D continues to be taken as a faithful reader of Scripture for the benefit of God’s people. The following section will function to
25 N.B., these broad classifications are not necessarily mutually exclusive with the ones from the previous section.
26 Phillip R. Callaway, “Deut 21:18-21: Proverbial Wisdom and Law,” JBL 103 (1984): 341–52. Thus Elizabeth Bellefontaine’s consideration that the rebellious son is not accused of cursing or striking does not carry much gravitas (Elizabeth Bellefontaine, “Deuteronomy 21:18-21: Reviewing the Case of the Rebellious Son,” JSOT 4 [1979]: 13–31 at 15).
27 Pace Kent Sparks, who assumes that interactions between legal corpora “negate, alter, or amplify” previous legislation (“A Comparative Study of the Biblicalנבלה Laws,” ZAW 110 [1998]: 594–600 at 594). On D’s possible clarifying of C, see David L. Baker, “Finders Keepers? Lost Property in Ancient Near Eastern and Biblical Law,” BBR 17 (2007): 207–14. See also how D likely clarifies what earlier cases in C meant due to various diachronic shifts in word meanings in Henri Cazelles, Études sur le code de l’alliance (Paris: Letouzey et Ané, 1946), 103–6. I am indebted to Culbertson for the rundown of this work (“Date of Composition,” 4–6).
delineate my own preliminary take on D’s reading of C in Deut 21:18–21 by means of a literary analysis. Importantly, my reading should not be interpreted as mutually exclusive with all other opinions as much as supplementary to a few (or perhaps even several) of them.
A Literary Analysis of Deuteronomy 21:18–21: Toward Catechesis or Moral Instruction
The text of Deut 21:18–21 is a unit that can stand on its own despite its clear relationship to other familial laws in Deut 12–26. As such, this section will center on this one passage without heavy attention to the surrounding synchronic literary segments.28 The thrust of the analysis herein will highlight the progress of the text toward the climactic and ultimate end for establishing this case law, namely that all Israel would hear and fear ( וכל ישראל ישמעו
; “[and] all Israel will/should hear and fear”; Deut 21:21). This analysis will proceed in two movements. The first will explore the concept of “hearing and fearing” in D and beyond. The second will assess the literary structure of Deut 21:18–21 using the theoretical framework of major structural relationships from the hermeneutical method of IBS (Inductive Bible Study).
Hearing and Fearing in D and Beyond
Before beginning the structural examination of Deut 21:18–21, a short survey of what it generally means “to hear and fear” (fromשמע and ירא ) is in order. Close or conjoined instances of such “hearing and fearing” in the OT, and more particularly in Deuteronomy, tend to emphasize the purpose, result, final cause, or end goal of an action, event, speech, or teaching, and they regularly do so with reference to individual or corporate obedience.29
28 Out of necessity, however, it will briefly explore key passages in Deuteronomy with shared terminology, especially those focused on Israel “hearing and fearing.” Diachronically examining potential redactional layers in this law is also outside the scope of this study.
29 Some examples of this phenomenon outside of Deuteronomy that have shared lexical features (i.e., fromשמע andירא ) are beneficial to note. A representative text, Isa 50:10, indicates that the one who fears the Lord is the one who hears/obeys the voice of his servant (cf. Ps 34:11–12; 40:4; 66:16; Qoh 12:13). In 1 Sam 14:24–27, Saul’s men who heard the oath that he put them under were able to fear/obey it, whereas Jonathan was not able to fear/obey the same oath because he had not heard it (cf. 2 Sam 22:45–46). In Jer 5:21–22, those in Judah who would not hear the Lord did not fear him. See
The following table demonstrates the relevant occurrences from Deuteronomy:
Table 1
Scripture Reference & Translation
Deut 4:10
“Assemble to me the people, in order that I would cause them to hear [irreal imperfect] my words, so that31 they would learn to fear me all the days that they are living on the land, and that they would teach their children.”
Deut 13:11 (13:12 MT)
“… so that/then(?)32 all Israel will hear and fear, with the result that they will not carry on behaving according to this evil thing in your midst.”
Text (MT—Consonants Only)30
also the Akkadian poem, “Erra and Ishum,” trans. Stephanie Dalley (COS 1.113: 404–16, esp. at 406). Here, the warrior-God, Erra, is called upon to make a resounding noise in order that the Anunnaki deities would “hear and fear” his word. In other words, the purpose of Erra’s speech-action is that these deities would respond by radically orienting themselves towards him through the act of fearing (obeying?) his word. Cf. Bill T. Arnold, “The Love-Fear Antinomy in Deuteronomy 5-11,” VT 61 (2011): 551–69.
30 The highlights are indicative of identical, nearly identical, shared-pattern, or conceptually related texts (e.g., yellow texts correspond to other yellow texts).
31 For the use ofאשר with a “final nuance” here (“in order that,” or “so that”), see Joüon §168f. Cf. IBHS, 639, where Deut 4:10 is similarly interpreted. The use of למען in Deut 31:12 takes on similar “final” nuances (cf. IBHS, 604.
32 Although the waw (ו) is semantically bleached with no inherent value in terms of semantic relationships (e.g., purpose, result), it may function as an edge marker (I attribute this phraseology to John A. Cook) that begins the next clausal idea, the semantic value for which is determined by the literary context, which I have interpreted here as conveying a purpose or result on account of the overt inclusion of finalאשר andלמען in Deut 4:10 and 31:12, respectively. I have chosen “so that” because it can relay both ideas in the English language; it is difficult to determine whether the idea expressed is purposive or resultative, and this thought pertains to other instances in my translations as well.
Deut 17:13
“… so that all the people may hear and fear, with the result that will not act presumptuously again.”
Deut 19:20
“… and/so that the ones remaining will hear and fear, with the result that they will not again carry on behaving according to this evil thing in your midst.”
Deut 21:21
“Then all the men of his city shall stone him with stones with the result that he would die. And you shall remove the evil from your midst, so that all Israel would hear and fear.”
Deut 31:12
“Assemble the people, the men and the women and the children and the sojourner who is in/at your gates, in order that they would hear, with the result that (or “and in order that”) they would learn and fear the Lord your God, and be careful to do all the words of this law/instruction.”
The color schematic shows four similar instances of “hearing and fearing” within the Deuteronomic Code (chs. 12–26) framed by two related occurrences outside of it. No doubt this pattern plays a role in reflecting the “togetherness” of the D material. A weaker albeit not implausible observation is that the correlated manifestations of “hearing and fearing” in Deut 4:10 and 31:12 serve to bracket D and explain its laws primarily in terms of hearing them and fearing/obeying them. However, even without seeing this bracketing (or inclusio) effect and the non-D occurrences through such a synchronic, whole-book reading, the frequency, distribution, and significance of the four instances within D itself (13:11; 17:13; 19:20; 21:21) are sufficient to
warrant, at minimum, the consideration of its laws as propounded with a view toward obedience through moral instruction or catechesis.33 As Brevard S. Childs captures so well, the “fear of God is not a subjective emotion of terror, but the obedience of God’s law.”34
The key difference between Deut 21:21 and the rest of the occurrences of “hearing and fearing” within D, subtle as it may be, is that the former’s use of these conjoined verbs is climactic. Put differently, though it is somehow connected to the following material (see the ס as opposed to the פ in the MT), it concludes its paragraph (vv. 18–21) without leading to further concerns as in Deut 13:11, 17:13, and 19:20. Thus, irrespective of whether the final clause in Deut 21:21 constitutes a purposive or resultative movement, it nevertheless functions as the desired end for Israel from D’s perspective apropos of the child rebellion laws. 35
That the final clause (
was this desired end for D has been articulated in different ways by modern scholars. 36 Callaway calls it a Deuteronomic “paraenesis to the Israelites.”37 Meir Bar-Ilan contends that the death penalty commanded by the law is suggestive of the authorial intention (i.e., purpose/end) that all Israel would hear and fear.38 Duane L. Christensen writes, “Since there is no record in the Bible that the law of the insubordinate son (Deut 21:18–
33 For more on frequency, distribution, and significance as essential elements of reoccurrence in the hermeneutical endeavor, see Bauer and Traina, Inductive Bible Study, 95–96.
34 Brevard S. Childs, The Book of Exodus: A Critical, Theological Commentary, OTL (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2004), 373. Childs describes the fear of God in this way while commenting on Exod 20:18–21 and in light of Deut 4:10, which introduces the integrated program for hearing and fearing throughout the book. That is, Childs would just as readily have related the fear of God to the obedience of his law for the germane references in the D source.
35 One potential problem surrounding a resultative interpretation of the relevant case laws is that it might imply that the laws must have been literally enacted for the fear/obedience to transpire, whereas a purposive take might more easily bend toward the view that the laws were merely promulgated (not enacted) with a view toward fomenting obedience among Israel. Simon Skidmore may summarize this issue when he states that some scholars “interpret Deuteronomy 21:18-21 as a literal call to execute rebellious offspring, while others have argued that this text functions as an exhortation towards obedience” (“A Mimetic Reading of Deuteronomy 21:18-21,” HeyJ 61 [2020]: 913–23 at 913).
36 N.B., I am taking the two verbs ( ישמעו ויראו ) to signify something akin to a compound clause (or perhaps hendiadys) rather than two separate clauses even though their clauses can technically be distinguished (cf. the conjunctive waw that joins two clauses in IBHS, 653).
37 Callaway, “Proverbial Wisdom,” 342.
38 Meir Bar-Ilan, “The Rebellious Son and the Development of Childhood in Antiquity,” Beit Mikra 62 (2017): 181–221.
21) was ever enforced, it is safe to conclude that the primary purpose of this law was pedagogical that ‘all Israel shall hear and fear’ (v 21).”39 Anselm C. Hagedorn has regarded the goal of the text as preventative in nature insofar as the case law would warn parents against raising their children poorly and thus, more positively, preserve familial and divine honor. 40 Stulman determines that ישמעווכל־ישראל
has a motivational character to it that functions “to inspire respect for judicial authority and demonstrate that such offenses jeopardize the welfare and stability of the social order.”41 Whatever the case may be, it is evident that D is reading Scripture (C) with Israel’s obedience in mind, and it might be most helpful to understand this hermeneutic in terms of what is expressed in 2 Tim 3:16–17, namely moral instruction or even “training in righteousness” (παιδείαν τὴν ἐν δικαιοσύνῃ). That D is employing this hermeneutic might be further established by the following literary analysis.
Deuteronomy 21:18–21: A Literary Analysis (Using IBS)
The Text
The Text’s Major Structural Relationships
39 Duane L. Christensen, Deuteronomy 21:10–34:12, WBC 6B (Dallas: Word, 2002), 484. While Christensen’s point is taken, it is not persuasive by itself.
40 Anselm C. Hagedorn, “Guarding the Parent’s Honour: Deuteronomy 21.1821,” JSOT 88 (2000): 101–21 at 115.
41 Stulman, “Encroachment in Deuteronomy,” 625. Cf. Rifat Sonsino, Motive Clauses in Hebrew Law: Biblical Forms and Near Eastern Parallels (Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1980).
As a case law, the primary structural relationship in Deut 21:18–21 is causation, or the movement from cause/protasis (if) to effect/apodosis (then).
Table 2
CAUSATION
Protasis = Cause (if)
21:18: “If any man has a stubborn and rebellious son who will not obey his father or his mother, and when they chastise him, he will not even listen to them…” (NASB95)
Apodosis = Effect (then)
21:19–21a: “…then his father and mother shall seize him, and bring him out to the elders of his city at the gateway of his hometown. They shall say to the elders of his city, ‘This son of ours is stubborn and rebellious, he will not obey us, he is a glutton and a drunkard.’ Then all the men of his city shall stone him to death; so you shall remove42 the evil from your midst…”43 (NASB95)
The flexibility of the waw in
and its function as a semantically bleached edge marker create difficulties in terms of specifying a structural relationship between this final, climactic movement of the text and the preceding material. However, the passages conjoining hearing and fearing that were previously under consideration (Deut 4:10; 31:12) employed the “final”אשר andלמען , respectively, in extremely similar syntactic situations, thus making it most reasonable that a final movement of purpose or result is also at play in Deut 21:21 (cf. the above discussion and the translation in Table 1, “so that all Israel would hear
42 The verbובערת may imply a summary, hortatory command as an irreal perfect with a directive modality. Bauer and Traina call this phenomenon “hortatory causation,” when you ought to do B (i.e., remove the evil) because of/in the case of A (i.e., the rebellion of the son). See Inductive Bible Study, 106.
43 I agree with Callaway (Callaway, “Proverbial Wisdom,” 342), who does not include ובערת
מקרבך (“and you shall remove the evil [one] from your midst”) within the paraenesis of Deut 21:21b (hence its position in the apodosis here). The MT also places the strong disjunctive atnakh accent underמקרבך (
), thus inviting the reader to pause before considering ישמעווכל־ישראל ויראו and dividing the sense of Deut 21:21 (cf. Mark D. Futato, Sr., Basics of Hebrew Accents [Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2020], 36).
and fear”). The appropriate structural relationship to explain this transition with reference to the IBS approach is called “instrumentation,” or a “declaration of purpose or end [including] the phrase in order that or its equivalent (e.g., often so that or that in English translations).”44 Thus, according to the theoretical framework of IBS, Deut 21:18–21 is ultimately structured in terms of causation with climax ( ישמעווכל־ישראל
) by way of instrumentation. The author(s) of D moves from the lesser to the greater and toward a high point of culmination at the end of this casuistic unit, showcasing not that the details of this child rebellion law are immaterial or unimportant, but rather that these details would forfeit much of their significance if Israel were to relate to this law in any sense short of hearing and fearing.45
It is probably unnecessary to debate whether this call was directed primarily to children (so that they would avoid the behavior of the rebellious son) or to parents (so that they would raise children quite unlike the rebellious son). In the first place, all Israel is in view.46 Second, conspicuously absent from Deut 21:21 is a following clause (or clauses) with negated verbs underscoring that Israel should not perform such and such behavior (as in D’s parallel cases [13:11; 17:13; 19:20]). There is no “so that/in order that not,” thus casting some doubt over the commonplace conclusion that the aim of Deut 21:18–21 is preventative in nature.47 The text more likely accentuates the implied positive obedience in view for all involved, whatever such fearful obedience might look like for parents, children, families, and the elders of the city.48
Summary
The final movement in Deut 21:18–21 ( ישמעווכל־ישראל ויראו ), whether purposive or resultative, functions as the desired end for Israel from D’s perspective apropos of the child rebellion laws. The telos of reading C (esp. Exod 21:15, 17) call it “pedagogical,” “morally
44 Bauer and Traina, Inductive Bible Study, 115 (emphasis original).
45 For more on this understanding of climax, see Bauer and Traina, Inductive Bible Study, 99–100.
46 LXX perhaps assimilates “all Israel” to והנשארים of Deut 19:20 since it reads
(cf. Carmel McCarthy, Deuteronomy: Critical Apparatus and Notes, BHQ 5 [Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2007], 63).
47 Cf. Hagedorn, “Guarding the Parent’s Honour,” 115.
48 If one looks outside of D material to the final redaction or composition of Deuteronomy, the positive vision of Deut 4:10 is compelling, namely that Israel would teach their children.
instructive,” “morally formative,” or even “catechetical” was that Israel should hear and fear. And that D read C in this manner is suggested by the major structural relationships in the unit, or causation with climax by way of instrumentation. The protasis-apodosis (or causal) relationship builds toward the culminating end that all Israel would hear and fear, and this end is surprisingly more positive in nature than its counterparts (Deut 13:11; 17:13; 19:20).
The Enduring Hermeneutical Influence of D
The aspect of moral instruction, moral formation in virtue, or catechesis as accentuated by D’s reading of C has been continued and practiced in various ways throughout the history of interpretation. This section will present a small portrait of these extensions of D’s hermeneutics by selecting germane biblical commentators on pentateuchal law from the Second Temple period: Philo and Paul.
Philo of Alexandria
Philo is renowned for reading the Pentateuch with a view toward growing in virtue, especially by means of allegorical interpretations. His penchant for philosophy and love of Scripture ensured that he read the biblical text in order to fulfill the possibility of living an obedient life toward God in accordance with natural law (cf. Creation 3). This law was instantiated in various ways through the pentateuchal laws, with Moses being the lawgiver par excellence (cf. Mos. 2.12–51). As such, Philo read Torah not just symbolically but also with the expectation that its laws, given as they were through Moses, would be de facto observed (cf. the capital crimes in Hypothetica 7).
While there is much to separate D from Philo, the latter in some sense apprenticed himself to the former insofar as he would read C and D to be trained and to educate others in the way of life-giving virtue and righteousness. One example of this phenomenon is Philo’s reading of Deut 21:21 that centers on removing the wickedness and disobedience from the interior person (Drunkenness 28). Moreover, and following the logic of
, the destruction of the rebellious son who does not purge himself of such evil and malice should ultimately result in the obedience and salvation of those who would be warned against imitating him (Drunkenness 29). Thus, one reason Philo continued to espouse
the literal enactment of pentateuchal law (e.g., the stoning of the rebellious son) was essentially so that “all Israel would hear and fear.” By simply commenting on Scripture in this way, Philo surely instilled a healthy fear of the Lord in some of his own readers and thereby (and in this particular sense) followed in the footsteps of D.
New Testament: Paul
Paul’s relationship to pentateuchal law was explored to an extent in the introduction. Here, it is necessary to return to this topic if only in brief, as there will not be sufficient space to illumine the many facets of Paul’s use of Scripture.49
The chief aspect for revisitation is Paul’s use of D as an illustration of D’s use of C. That is to say, if D read C with a view toward Israel’s obedience or moral instruction, then much more so did Paul, as if D’s precocious apprentice, read D (as well as C, H, and all of Scripture) in order that the believers under his pastoral care, especially gentiles, would walk in the “obedience of faith” (Rom 1:5; 16:26).50
The vivid bracketing of Romans with the express purpose of obedient faith in mind (Paul dictates
in both occurrences) raises the question of how this goal for the gentiles might come to bear on or relate to Paul’s rich utilization of Scripture throughout the course of his argument in the book. Although, given Paul’s consistently attested call to preach Jesus among the gentiles (cf. Gal 1:15–16), this query pertains not only to Romans but indeed to all his Letters. Paul was a tenacious proponent of gentile inclusion within God’s covenant people, but he had to read, interpret, and employ Scripture, including pentateuchal law, in order to help sustain their allegiance to Christ and consecration to God. Perhaps most remarkably in Paul’s Epistles, if the Corinthians had refused to cast the incestuous man out of their midst (1 Cor 5:13) in accordance with Paul’s hermeneutical appropriation of D’s directives (Deut 21:21 [ ובערת הרע מקרבך ]; cf. Deut 13:5; 17:7, 12; 19:19; 22:21), then they would have become vulnerable to sin/disobedience (1 Cor 5:6) and thus jeopardized their
49 Cf. Richard B. Hays, Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989).
50 In Rom 16:26, is the mystery of the gospel that has been made known through the intermediate agent that is the Scriptures, and it has been made known through them for (i.e., purpose) the obedience of faith.
security in God’s kingdom (1 Cor 6:9–10). Paul’s reading of D in 1 Corinthians, much like Philo’s reading of D and ultimately D’s reading of C hence aims toward the moral instruction and formation of God’s people.
Perpetuating D’s Legacy of Reading for the Life of the Church
It is popular in academic and ecclesial circles to be too cautious when it comes to embracing the reading styles or “hermeneutical tactics” (to risk anachronism) employed by the biblical authors. In the academy, the chief concern is often that the hermeneutical tools used by the biblical authors are unscientific (which is no problem with the Bible since employing a transparent method was never its aim!), and so anyone endeavoring to acquire these tools is in danger of succumbing to the foibles of eisegesis. In the church, this topic raises questions regarding the inspiration of Scripture and troubles many who infer that a high bibliology would be diminished or even jettisoned if Christians, for instance, could simply begin to read the OT and come to conclusions carrying similar weight as Romans or Hebrews.
But, at least in the church, it is difficult to argue against using the hermeneutical “methods” of the biblical authors whenever 1) they aim toward moral instruction and catechesis, as with D, Philo, and Paul, and 2) Scripture itself invites believers to read its materials with a view toward the same things (2 Tim 3:16–17). Therefore, this article, insufficient as it is, modestly proposes that God’s people earnestly seek to carry forward the legacy and spiritual discernment of D, as did Philo and Paul, by reading the pentateuchal law regularly, carefully, and ultimately with a view toward moral instruction, pedagogy, and catechesis.
51
There are at least three ways that God’s people might perpetuate D’s legacy of reading for the life of the church. First, there must be regular cycles of reading pentateuchal law, as did D, and not simply topical biblical studies, for example, on the Christian’s relationship to this law. Only consistent patterns of reading can help God’s people learn from the masters no amount of secondary literature, as important as it is, can serve as a substitute. Practically speaking, traditions
51 Cf. Martin J. Oosthuizen, “The Deuteronomic Code as a Resource for Christian Ethics,” JTSA 96 (1996): 44–58 at 50 and Aviv, “Teaching ‘the Stubborn and Rebellious Son’.”
with built-in access to the three-year lectionary cycle should take full advantage of it (e.g., Methodist, Anglican, Roman Catholic). Similarly, praying the Daily Office may ensure that difficult passages from pentateuchal law are read aloud in a communal worship setting. Concerning this call to read and search all of Scripture, St. John of Damascus writes brilliantly:
All Scripture, then, is given by inspiration of God and is also assuredly profitable. Wherefore to search the Scriptures is a work most fair and most profitable for souls. For just as the tree planted by the channels of waters, so also the soul watered by the divine Scripture is enriched and gives fruit in its season, viz. orthodox belief, and is adorned with evergreen leafage, I mean, actions pleasing to God. For through the Holy Scriptures we are trained to action that is pleasing to God, and untroubled contemplation. For in these we find both exhortation to every virtue and dissuasion from every vice…. Let us draw of the fountain of the garden perennial and purest waters springing into life eternal. Here let us luxuriate, let us revel insatiate: for the Scriptures possess inexhaustible grace.52
Second, God’s people might perpetuate D’s legacy of reading for the life of the church by asking less of “what does this mean,” or “what principles can I extract here,” and more of “how am I being instructed” in this very moment. In other words, they may permit themselves to be instructed by the patterns of reading embedded in the biblical canon (and even the canonization process) itself. How precisely D results from C is less of an exact method and more of an acclimatization to the law as sacred instruction for the purpose of a closer walk with YHWH. The monastic practice of scriptural reading, known as lectio divina (“divine [or sacred] reading”), might foster such familiarization and orient God’s people toward hearing the law with a view toward faithful obedience, as did D.
Finally, God’s people might perpetuate D’s legacy of reading for the life of the church by reading OT and NT imperatives, albeit maintaining
52 John Damascene, An Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith (NPNF2 9b:89; emphasis original).
instruction or catechesis as the final cause, in terms of how D read C, namely, by offering interpretation, expansion, restriction, generalization, or clarification. This point is offered most tentatively as it is exceedingly controversial. How D read C is heavily debated in the first place. In the second place, this approach arguably places too much authority into the hands of pastors, teachers, and scholars. Sometimes a command is straightforward and should be appropriated as such (e.g., Phil 4:8). Nevertheless, and admittedly anecdotally, the church is just as uncomfortable at times with Paul’s letters as with the Pentateuch and as some in D’s era would have been with C (e.g., Exod 21:17)! It may be helpful to ask something like the following: How might D teach God’s people today to read challenging sections of Scripture (e.g., 1 Tim 2:8–15)?
Conclusion
This paper has investigated D’s reading of C (esp. 21:15, 17) in order to hear from the Mosaic voice through D, so that today’s interpreters would apprentice themselves to this author of pentateuchal law. The result of this apprenticeship might be the church’s growth in the Lord through moral instruction and catechesis, for D read C intending to promote obedience for the life of Israel. A second but equally important result of this apprenticeship might be a more profound understanding/reading of pentateuchal law rightly and sufficiently among God’s people.
The Last and the First (Matt 21:16; 19:30): Women and Empire
in Mathew’s Narrative
Dorothy Jean Weaver Professor Emerita of New Testament
Eastern Mennonite Seminary weaverdj@emu.edu
Abstract: To reflect on the role of empire within Matthew’s narrative is to ask a question which spans the Gospel from beginning to end. And the language of imperial power within Matthew’s narrative functions above all to depict a male-oriented world and the actions of men vis-à-vis men. Accordingly, the interface between empire and women has been a question largely overlooked within Matthean scholarship. This article will highlight and assess the rhetorical interface between the powers of empire depicted by Matthew and numerous women within Matthew’s narrative, both women of empire and women identifiably subject to empire. And I will demonstrate not only the extraordinary presence of women vis-à-vis the powers of empire within Matthew’s narrative but also the heavily ironic character of most of these encounters between empire and women.
Keywords: Disciples, Empire/Imperial, Irony/Ironic, Power and Powerlessness, Rhetoric/Rhetorical, Women
Introduction
To reflect on the role of empire within Matthew’s narrative is to ask a question which spans the Gospel from beginning to end.1 Matthew dates the birth of Jesus in conjunction with “the days of Herod the king” (2:1a),2 an Idumean client king over Judea on behalf of Rome. Jesus’ life, from infancy onward to his death by crucifixion, is both
1 I use “Matthew” throughout this study as the traditional nomenclature for the author of the First Gospel.
2 All biblical citations reflect the New Revised Standard Version unless otherwise indicated. All biblical references refer to the Gospel of Matthew unless otherwise indicated.
profoundly and strategically impacted by the machinations of rulers whether Roman or empowered by Rome who carry out Rome’s imperial policies: Herod the king and his son Archelaus (2:1–23 ); Herod the tetrarch 14:1–13a ); and Pilate the governor of Judea (27:1–54, 62–66 ; 28:1–4, 11–15 ).3 Throughout his ministry Jesus engages the Roman empire in various and nuanced ways. He commends the faith of a Roman centurion and heals his servant from a distance (8:5–13). He calls a Jewish tax collector hired by the Romans into his disciple group (9:9), feasts with this tax collector and his colleagues (9:10–13) and commends tax collectors as those who will “[go] into the kingdom of heaven” ahead of the Jewish religious leadership (21:31; cf. 21:23). He engages in debate with the Pharisees concerning the payment of taxes to “the emperor” (22:15–22). He warns his disciples that they will one day “be handed over to governors and kings” (10:18). And he gives them notice that they will in future encounter “wars and rumors of wars” (24:6), experience the conflict of “nation … against nation and kingdom against kingdom” (24:7), and be forced to “flee to the mountains” (24:15–16) in the “flight” of the powerless and miserable (24:17–22).
The language of imperial power within Matthew’s narrative functions above all to depict a male-oriented world and, in specific, the actions of men vis-à-vis men, most prominently the actions of (male) Roman officials and (male) Roman military figures vis-a-vis the (male) Jewish Jesus. In the androcentric worlds both of Matthew himself and of the story that he tells, this is hardly surprising. In this male-oriented world, where “women and children” must be pasted into a traditional story in which Jesus feeds thousands of “men” (Matt 14:21; cf. Mark 6:44; Matt 15:38; cf. Mark 8:9), Matthew’s narrative is significantly at home in its first-century Mediterranean cultural context, as it depicts predominantly male/male interactions.4 So to engage the interface
3 For a discussion of these Roman officials and their impact on the life of Jesus and his associate, John the Baptist, see Dorothy Jean Weaver, The Irony of Power: The Politics of God within Matthew’s Narrative. Studies in Peace and Scripture, Vol 13: Institute of Mennonite Studies (Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2017), 27–43. In the genealogy which opens his narrative (1:1-17) Matthew points, in similar fashion, to the Israelite monarchy preceding the current Roman empire (1:6ff.) and in the process alludes to reprehensible actions of David (1:6b; cf. 2 Sam 11:1–12:25), without question the most prominent Jewish king (1:6; cf. 1:1, 17).
4 On the androcentric character of Matthew’s narrative, see Janice Capel Anderson, “Matthew: Gender and Reading,” Semeia 28 (1983), 3–27; Janice Capel Anderson, “Mary’s Difference: Gender and Patriarchy in the Birth Narratives,” Journal of Religion 67 (1987), 183–202.
between empire and men is deeply instinctive for biblical scholars. But to consider the interface between empire and women is a question largely overlooked and unaddressed within Matthean scholarship.5 Reasons for this lie on multiple levels. On the most obvious level the androcentric world of Jesus which Matthew depicts is one in which the lives of women and the stories about women are, ipso facto, widely deemed to be of less significance than those of men, as, for example, Matthew’s patrilineal genealogy of Jesus clearly attests (1:1-17). So women are, for the most part, simply not visible either in the sources on which Matthew draws or in the narrative which he crafts on the basis of those sources.6 Accordingly, women are largely not available as characters for consideration vis-à-vis empire.7
But there is a second and more fundamental reason underlying the first. Matthew’s own cultural world is equally androcentric. So not only does Matthew depict the male-oriented world of Jesus as he narrates his story, but writing within the same first-century Mediterranean cultural milieu as the story that he narrates, Matthew likewise betrays his own male-oriented cultural instincts and writes a narrative, accordingly, which reflects his own realities.8 As Rosemary M. Dowsett notes, “Clearly none of the Gospels was written as a feminist tract, and it is inappropriate to judge them from such a framework. Nor were many of the questions that exercise us about the role of women in home, society and church issues that Matthew could have dreamed of.”9
5 But see on this topic the essay by Jean K. Moore, “Matthew’s Decolonial Desire (Matthew 12:42; 27:19). A Postcolonial Feminist Reading of the Two Royal Women” (“lectio difficilior,” 1/2013, http://www.lectio.unibe.ch).
6 But women are obviously there all along. Take, for example, the women who “had followed Jesus from Galilee” and “had provided for him” (27:55), but most of whom are invisible within Matthew’s narrative until after the death of Jesus (27:55–61; 28:1–11a). But see Matthew’s prior reference to “the mother of the sons of Zebedee” (20:20–21).
7And when visible, they are largely unnamed. As Ian Boxall notes (Discovering Matthew: Content, Interpretation, Reception. Discovering Biblical Texts [Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2014], 56–57), “With the notable exception of Jesus’ mother Mary (1.16, 18, 20; 2:11; 13:55), and the mothers listed in the genealogy, the women in Matthew’s story remain unnamed almost until the end.… Feminist critics would find in the lack of names evidence for the essentially androcentric perspective of the evangelist, or of the inherited tradition.”
8 Formal discussion of the extent to which this is likewise true for the exegetical work of biblical scholars as well over the centuries lies beyond the scope of this study.
9 Rosemary M. Dowsett, “Matthew,” in The IVP Women’s Bible Commentary, Catherine Clark Kroeger & Mary J. Evans, eds. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2002),
But it is precisely due to Matthew’s obvious rootedness in his own androcentric cultural world that Matthew’s narrative has such power to surprise its readers. As Dowsett observes, “Yet given the male domination of the culture at that time and the wholly male worldview of most contemporary literature, the extraordinary thing is how much Matthew draws attention to women as well as men from start to finish of his Gospel.”10
Nor is that all. In accordance with Matthew’s striking propensity to exhibit irony in crucial fashion throughout his narrative,11 much of the interface between empire and the women of Matthew’s Gospel is deeply ironic in character. Here, as elsewhere, Matthew’s narrative inhabits a “two-storey” world in which “appearance” i.e., the way things “appear” to be in the everyday world is visible on the “lower level” of the narrative, the level accessible to all of the characters in the story, while true reality i.e., the way things truly are from the “God’seye” perspective is visible only from the “upper level” of the narrative, a level inaccessible to the characters in the story but visible to the observant reader.12
This article will highlight and assess the interface between the powers of empire visible within Matthew’s narrative and the women of Matthew’s narrative whose lives intersect in identifiable fashion with these imperial powers: Mary, mother of Jesus (1:16; 1:18–2:23); the women of Bethlehem, identified collectively as “Rachel” (2:16–18); Herodias and her daughter (14:1–12); the woman who anoints Jesus’ head at the home of Simon the leper in Bethany (26:6–13 ); the servant girls
519. Cf. Russell Pregeant (Matthew, Chalice Commentaries for Today [St. Louis, MO: Chalice, 2004], 26), who notes, “In many ways, the gospel of Matthew remains within the world of patriarchy and male domination, even though at various points it makes a partial break with it. It is therefore important to claim neither too much nor too little for Matthew in relation to the contemporary struggle of women for full equality.”
10 Pregeant, 26. Cf. Weaver, Irony, 248–61. See also Pregeant (Matthew, 27), who notes, “But to the extent that elements in the text depart from [patriarchal] values, they create competing strains of meaning that the reader must consider. It is therefore appropriate for the experiences of contemporary persons in the struggle for women’s rights to draw on the presence of women in Matthew’s genealogy and on the motif of the virgin birth itself as resources in that struggle.”
11 Thus, for example, Weaver, Irony; Inhee C. Berg, Irony in the Matthean Passion Narrative (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2014).
12 On this “two-storey” definition of irony, see D. C. Muecke, The Compass of Irony (London: Methuen, 1969), 19–20.
at Caiaphas’ palace (26:69–75); Pilate’s wife (27:19); and the women at the cross, tomb, and post-resurrection scenes (27:55–61; 28:1–11a). In addition I will also consider the roles of three women/groups of women who are not characters contemporary to the story of Jesus, but whose female experiences whether past or future from the perspective of Matthew’s narrative likewise speak to the interface between empire and women: the wife of Uriah (1:6b); the “queen of the South” (12:42); and the pregnant women and nursing mothers of Jesus’ eschatological discourse (24:19; cf. 24:3–21 ). Overall, I will demonstrate not only the extraordinary presence of these women within Matthew’s narrative but also the ironic character of many of these encounters between empire and women. In conclusion I will reflect on the narrative rhetoric of Matthew’s Gospel vis-a-vis women and empire and on the theological message conveyed by Matthew to his readers through this narrative rhetoric.
“The
Daughter of Herodias Danced” (14:6): Everyday Life for Imperial Women
While it is clear from Matthew’s cast of characters that the women of his Gospel do not for the most part inhabit the halls of imperial power, Matthew nevertheless provides his readers with crucial windows into the lives of four such imperial women: the “queen of the South” (12:42); Herodias and her daughter (14:1–12); and Pilate’s wife (27:19). The stories of these women are as varied as they are intriguing. And they reflect a wide range of female experiences vis-à-vis imperial power. But it is above all the commonalities between these women that define their imperial status.
Arguably the most crucial commonality that these women share is their access whether public or private to power, namely to the king or governor in question. The “queen of the South,” a regent herself, demonstrates free and public access to other regents, as she sits in the king’s court in Jerusalem and “listen[s] to the wisdom of Solomon” (12:42b).
Herodias, the wife of Philip, brother of Herod the tetrarch (14:3), has access to Herod on multiple levels. The issue which lies at the heart of her story is her intimate physical liaison with Herod, who “[has] her” as his consort in defiance of Jewish law (14:4: cf. Lev. 18:16; 20:21). Further, Herodias clearly knows Herod well and is fully aware of his personal and
political issues vis-à-vis John the Baptist. And she has a direct, if conspiratorial, public channel to communicate her wishes effectively to Herod. When Herodias’ daughter conveys to Herod her demand for the head of John the Baptist (14:8b), Matthew notes that she has been “prompted by her mother” to do so (14:8a). And when Herodias’ daughter receives the head of John the Baptist as demanded (14:11a), she promptly “[brings] it to her mother” accordingly (14:11b).
Pilate’s wife, while not conspiratorial like Herodias, has similar power of access to her husband. For her part, she “sends” a messenger to Pilate (27:19a), interrupting him with an urgent message in the very midst of his public judicial deliberations vis-à-vis Jesus, precisely as he is “sitting on the judgment seat” and preparing to pronounce his verdict (27:19; cf. 27:24).13
The daughter of Herodias, as Matthew depicts her, needs neither public go-betweens (as Herodias) nor messengers (as Pilate’s wife). Instead, she has unmediated and public access to Herod the tetrarch as she “dances in the midst” of Herod and his assembled guests (14:6; DJW) and speaks with Herod face-to-face (14:8b; cf. 14:7).
But beyond this prominent commonality between these imperial women, their stories diverge in significant ways. The “queen of the South” (12:42a) is arguably the most highly placed and thus the most powerful of these women. Remarkably, within the androcentric world that she inhabits, the “queen of the South” is a regent in her own right. Just as remarkably, she has come “from the ends of the earth” (12:42b)14 and without a male consort to validate her presence, precisely in order to sit face to face with Solomon as a royal equal, regent with regent, to “listen to [his] wisdom” (12:42b) and likewise, as scriptural tradition indicates, to “test him with hard questions” (1 Kgs 10:1b) and “[tell] him all that [is] on her mind” (1 Kgs 10:2b).15 In Matthew’s account
13 Cf. Moore (Decolonial Desire, 13), who notes, “It is not coincidental that Pilate’s wife sends her message to Pilate at the very moment he is sitting on the judgment seat.”
14 This is clearly an allusion to the “Sheba” of 1 Kings 10:1a, in southern Arabia. As Jeffrey A. Gibbs notes (Matthew 11:2–20:34. Concordia Commentary: A Theological Exposition of Sacred Scripture [St. Louis, MO: Concordia, 2010], 647), Sheba is “southeast of Israel, on the southern tip of the Arabian Peninsula.”
15 See Warren Carter, Matthew and the Margins: A Sociopolitical and Religious Reading. The Bible and Liberation (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2000), 278.
this queen exhibits significant persistence and evident wealth,16 as she travels the earth to come to Jerusalem. And she likewise exhibits the same “wisdom” attributed to Solomon, as she chooses him as a peer mentor for her own education.17 Thus Matthew’s “lower-level” portrait of the “queen of the South” reflects a woman of royal power, wealth, and wisdom, who takes extraordinary initiative to engage in international diplomacy as an equal, regent to regent, with a “wise” compatriot in a distant land.
Herodias does not fare so well, as Matthew depicts her. Obviously aware of John the Baptist’s denunciation of Herod on her account “It is not lawful for you to have her” (14:4b) Herodias is clearly threatened by John’s prophetic authority among the crowds (14:5c) and enraged by John’s blunt and repeated challenges to Herod (14:4a).18 As Craig S. Keener suggests, Herodias “want[s] vengeance on John for daring to denounce her sin publicly,” since “a member of Herod the Great’s royal family would never have tolerated John’s audacity (cf. Mk 6:19).”19
But not only is Herodias threatened and enraged. She is likewise calculating, conspiratorial, and cunning. When Herod swears under oath before his banquet guests to give Herodias’ daughter “whatever she might ask” (14:7), Herodias realizes immediately that her moment has come for “removing a critic and securing [her own] power.”20 Accordingly, she inveigles her daughter into a cunning and grotesque conspiracy and sends her back to Herod with the immediate and public demand for John the Baptist’s head, delivered “here on a platter” (14:8). And the trap snaps shut.21 Herodias’ powers of calculation, conspiracy, and cunning are easily sufficient to manipulate the king, a man of demonstrable weakness and paralyzing contradictions,22 into action that he both “wants” to do (14:5a) but likewise
16 See 1 Kings 10:2, which describes her “very great retinue” and the conspicuous wealth of gifts that the queen brings to Solomon: “camels bearing spices and very much gold, and precious stones.” Cf. 1 Kings 10:10.
17 That this queen ultimately acknowledges the truth of the rumors which she has heard about Solomon and previously discounted (1 Kgs 10:6–9; cf. David E. Garland, Reading Matthew: A Literary and Theological Commentary on the First Gospel. Reading the New Testament [New York, NY: Crossroad, 1993], 142) does not discredit her own “wisdom” in engaging the “wise” king, Solomon, as a peer mentor.
18 The imperfect verb ἔλεγεν (14:4a) suggests that John “kept on” denouncing Herod’s liaison with Herodias.
19 Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 2009), 401.
20 Carter, Margins, 304.
21 Cf. Gibbs, Matthew 11:2-20:34, 743–44.
22 Cf. Weaver, Irony, 35–38.
“fears” (cf. 14:5b) and is “grieved” (14:9a) to do.23
The bottom line is clear, for both king and consort. As Jeffrey A. Gibbs notes, “King Herod has been manipulated; the real power belongs to Herodias.”24 And Amy-Jill Levine concludes rightly, if somewhat more cautiously than narrative outcomes warrant that this story “indicates the influence women might wield in politics (emphasis mine).”25 In short, Herodias has effectively used and abused her daughter, manipulated a weak and vulnerable king, and succeeded in wreaking vengeance on her prophetic nemesis, John the Baptist. Her power has prevailed to all appearances. Her reward for her actions is the severed head of John the Baptist staring at her from the “platter” she has demanded, in the grotesque banquet of the vengeful and the victim. Such is Matthew’s “lower-level” portrait of Herodias. Stanley P. Saunders sums up the impact of this scene with regard to imperial power:
[Matthew’s] focus is on the power dynamics at work in Herod’s family. In Herod’s house, power is not shared but contested, no one seems to wield power completely, and cunning and manipulation rule the day. The story thus reveals something of the conflicted, incestuous character of a family trapped in the quest for self-preservation and power.26
Pilate’s wife (27:19), for her part, stands as a clear parallel and, by the same token, in sharp contrast to Herodias within Matthew’s narrative. The parallels are unmistakable. These two women share similar positions as the wife or consort of an imperial ruler serving at the behest of Rome (14:3–4//27:19a). In addition, their stories both focus
23 Cf. Stanley P. Saunders (Preaching the Gospel of Matthew: Proclaiming God’s Presence [Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2010], 141), who notes that Herod “does what he had first wanted to do, kill John but only because his own weaknesses have made him vulnerable to the manipulations of the women in his household.” See also Gibbs (Matthew 11:2-20:34, 740), who depicts Herodias as a “scheming wife” who “manipulate[s] her royal husband.”
24 Gibbs, Matthew 11:2-20:34, 744. But note Carter’s cautionary words (Margins, 304), “[John’s] head ends up with Herodias, who prompted the request (14:8). But the blame is evenly spread, since her request enacted Herod’s will (14:5). Their [i.e., collective] exercise of power is destructive ”
25 Amy-Jill Levine, “Matthew,” in Carol A. Newsom and Sharon H. Ringe, eds., The Women’s Bible Commentary (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1992), 258. More accurately stated, this scene portrays the real and destructive power that one woman actually does wield in politics.
26 Saunders, Preaching, 142.
on urgent and forceful messages which these women convey via channels for Herodias, her daughter (14: 8); for Pilate’s wife, a messenger (27:19a) to the ruler in question. Accordingly, the story of Herodias serves, by contrast, to be sure, to “foreshadow” the story of Pilate’s wife.27
Beyond these parallels, however, the stories diverge in crucial ways. Where Herodias’ motives are personal revenge against her prophetic nemesis (14:8; cf. 14:3–5), Pilate’s wife acts in response to a “dream” (27:19d; cf. 1:20; 2:12, 13, 19, 22), which, within Matthew’s narrative, is clearly of divine origin and conveyed by an “angel of the Lord” (1:20, 24; 2:13, 19). Where Herodias manipulates Herod to bring about the death (14:8) of a man who through his ministry “fulfills all righteousness” (3:15) and upholds the Jewish scriptures (14:4), the wife of Pilate engages her access to power in order to save the life (27:19b) of “that righteous man” (27:19b, DJW) about whom she has had a harrowing dream (27:19c). And where Herodias achieves her goal and succeeds with her conspiracy (14:10–11), Pilate’s wife is ultimately unsuccessful with her quest to save the life of Jesus. Instead, Pilate acknowledges his own powerlessness vis-à-vis the crowds (27:24a), “washes his hands” of the blood he is about to shed (27:24b), proclaims his own “innocence” (27:24c) rather than that of Jesus (cf. 27:19b), then has Jesus “flogged” (27:24d) and “hand[s] him over to be crucified” (27:24e).28
Matthew’s “lower-level” portrait of Pilate’s wife a striking contrast both to that of Pilate, her husband, and to that of Herodias, her counterpart reflects a deeply courageous woman, obedient to divine messages, who “stands straight and tall” vis-à-vis her husband’s ethical contortions,29 “suffer[s] many things . . . on account of [Jesus]” (27:19c, DJW), and takes crucial and bold initiative to speak truth to power and to “resist” the
27 Thus Levine (“Matthew,” 258), who notes that Herodias’ story “foreshadows the unsuccessful attempt by Pilate’s wife to rescue Jesus (27:19).”
28 Cf. Weaver, Irony, 260. Contra Douglas R. A. Hare (Matthew, Interpretations: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching [Louisville: John Knox, 1993], 317) who notes that “Pilate accedes to this divine warning and refuses to take responsibility for Jesus’ death,” Matthew neither exonerates Pilate nor ultimately shows him to be “acceding” to the wishes of his wife. Instead, Pilate’s subsequent actions of “flogging” Jesus and “handing him over to be crucified” demonstrate Pilate’s full and active responsibility for the death of Jesus, despite his ritual and verbal protestations of “innocence.”
29 Weaver, Irony, 260.
Roman empire,30 even as her efforts to effect change are ultimately fruitless. Vis-à-vis Herodias, her Matthean counterpart, Pilate’s wife negotiates empire with consummate honesty and courage, even as she fails to bend the arc of justice on behalf of Jesus.
Herodias’ daughter, the youngest and arguably least powerful of Matthew’s quartet of imperial women, is a complex figure within Matthew’s narrative. To begin with, Matthew depicts her as both “daughter” (θυγάτηρ:14:6)31 and “young girl” (κοράσιον:14:11, DJW).32 These depictions in tandem clearly establish her identity as that of a female child, or at most a female adolescent, vis-à-vis the two powerful adults in her world: Herodias (14:3, 6), her “mother” (14:8, 11), and Herod (14:1, 3, 6), the “tetrarch” (14:1) or the “king” (14:9).33
If Herodias’ daughter is young, and, by implication, less powerful than her significant elders, she is likewise profoundly vulnerable to their evil influence. Herod, for his part, tempts her successfully with “whatever she might ask” (14:7), a more than intoxicating offer for any “young girl” with imagination. Herodias, for her part, supplies the imagination required by Herod’s intoxicating offer and inveigles her daughter just as successfully into a grotesque and conspiratorial plot against the life of John the Baptist (14:8). Accordingly, Matthew’s depiction of Herodias’ daughter is, on the one hand, that of a “young girl” who is effectively used, abused, and “exploited” by the significant elders in her world,34 the very
30 Thus Moore (“Decolonial Desire,” 13), who notes that Pilate’s wife takes “an action of disturbance and of disapproval” and that Matthew uses her action in order “to resist the Roman empire” and “to shame Pilate,” her husband.
31 Cf. the reciprocal references to the daughter’s “mother” (14:8, 11).
32 As Max Zerwick and Mary Grosvenor (A Grammatical Analysis of the Greek New Testament, Vol. I: Gospels Acts [Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1974], 46) indicate, the term κοράσιον is the diminutive form of κόρη (“girl”). Cf. Gibbs (Matthew11:2–20:34, 740), who refers to Herodias’ daughter as “a ‘young girl’ rather than a (mature) woman.”
33 Note that Matthew uses the same term, κοράσιον (9:24), to identify the 12-yearold “daughter” (θυγάτηρ: 9:18) of a synagogue official. Speaking historically, Keener (Gospel of Matthew, 400) notes, “According to some accounts the girl … may … have been between six and eight years old; more likely, she was a virgin of marriageable age (twelve to fourteen) ” Cf. Hare, Matthew, 163; Ulrich Luz, Matthew 8–20: A Commentary, Hermeneia A Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible, James E. Crouch, tr., Helmut Koester, ed. (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2001), 307.
34 Cf. Pregeant (Matthew, 119), who refers to “the exploitation of a young woman by her mother, within the context of the intrigues of a corrupt ruling class….” See also Dorothy Jean Weaver, “‘Do You Hear What These Are Saying?’ (Mt 21:16):
“parents” (cf. 6:9) who should be protecting her from “temptation” (cf. 6:13a) and its “evil” outcomes (cf. 6:13b).35 Without question Matthew portrays Herodias’ daughter as a child/adolescent victim of “parental” abuse, with clear or potential sexual innuendo on both fronts, namely, the unrestrained lascivious impulses of Herod and the coldly cunning orchestrations of Herodias.36
But regardless of her vulnerability to “parental” abuse, Herodias’ daughter is ultimately no passive victim of imperial malfeasance. Instead, she herself is a crucial actor within the narrative and fully complicit in the imperial evil that transpires. And it is her own initiatives which move the plot of this narrative forward toward its grisly conclusion.
To begin with, the daughter of Herodias “dance[s] in the midst” of Herod and his birthday guests (14:6a, DJW), a socially “unprecedented” act for one of her royal status.37 This birthday banquet is without question a raucous Hellenistic stag party, marked characteristically by excessive drinking and sexually explicit entertainment of a type normally provided by “harlots”38 and “courtesans,”39 with unmistakable expectations of sexual favors to follow.40 As Keener notes, “[T]hough dancing was a regular feature of such drinking parties, only in a drunken stupor would one invite another member of the royal family to engage in such a sensuous Hellenistic dance.”41 But Herod’s
Children and Their Role within Matthew’s Narrative,” HTS Teologiese Studies/Theological Studies, 75 (4), a5513, https://doi.org/10.4102/hts.v75i4.5513, 3.
35 Thus Weaver, “Do You Hear,” 3.
36 While Matthew is silent on this point, Richard B. Gardner (Matthew, Believers Church Bible Commentary [Scottdale, PA: Herald, 1991], 224) associates the dance itself with the “bidding” of Herodias, while Gibbs (Matthew 11:2–20:34, 740) notes that Herodias “manipulate[s] her royal husband by illicit desire.”
37 Thus Gardner, Matthew, 224.
38 Gardner, Matthew, 224; Hare, Matthew, 163.
39 Luz, Matthew 8–20, 307.
40 Thus Carter (Margins, 303), who cites Kathleen Corley (Private Women, Public Meals: Social Conflict in the Synoptic Tradition (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1993), 24–79): “K. Corley notes that women who attended public meals, traditionally male events, were commonly understood to provide sex whether they did so or not.” Cf. Saunders, Preaching, 142.
41 Keener, Gospel, 400. Cf. Hare (Matthew, 163), who first notes, “It is alleged that in that culture it would be most improbable that a princess would perform a solo dance in front of strange men,” but then refers to others who argue that “given the morals of the Herodian court, such a departure from accepted standards is not impossible,” since “the men would not have been so fascinated if an ordinary harlot had entertained them with her dancing.”
“pleasure” (14:6b) at this “apparently lascivious dance”42 clearly demonstrates both the skill and the success of Herodias’ daughter at arousing Herod with the erotic dance she performs as a birthday gift for him.
And the dance is only the beginning. When Herod, clearly overcome with desire, offers Herodias’ daughter “whatever she might ask” (14:7), she takes her second decisive action. While acquiescing to her mother’s sinister “prompting” (14:8a) concerning this extraordinary offer, Herodias’ daughter, at the same time and by the same token, takes initiative into her own hands and speaks, insistently and in her own voice, to demand the head of John the Baptist: “Give me the head of John the Baptist here on a platter” (14:8b).43 Thus, as Gibbs observes without absolving Herodias of her own guilt in the matter, John the Baptist meets his fate “at the behest of a mere child.”44
Nor is this the end of the matter. Herod, who regretfully recognizes that he is completely outmaneuvered on all sides (14:9a/b), capitulates to the demand of Herodias’ daughter (14:9c), has John “decapitated … in the prison” (14:10), and sees that the head is “brought on a platter and given to the girl” (14:11a/b), just as she has demanded (cf. 14:8b). In response to this imperial capitulation Herodias’ daughter then takes her final decisive initiative, as she “[brings]” John’s head “to her mother” (14:11c).
While she is clearly vulnerable to the evil influence of her imperial elders and victim of their respective forms of “parental” abuse, Herodias’ daughter is ultimately a crucial and decisive actor in her own right throughout the account, as evidenced by her dance (14:6), her demand (14:8), and her delivery (14:11). In the end Herodias’ daughter, to all surface appearances the least powerful of the imperial women within Matthew’s narrative, nevertheless succeeds in bending empire to her
42 Thus Ben Witherington III, Matthew, Smyth & Helwys Bible Commentary (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys, 2006), 283. Cf. Pregeant (Matthew, 119), who speaks of “voyeuristic speculation about the nature of Herodias’s daughter’s dance.” And Gibbs (Matthew 11:2-20:34, 740) notes, “That her dancing before Antipas and his guests was seductive in nature is a plausible assumption that highlights the depravity involved.”
43 Scholars differ on the reason for which Herodias’ daughter consults her mother. Keener (Gospel, 401) attributes this consultation to the daughter’s young age: “Naturally [she], being a minor, would seek her mother’s counsel ” Witherington (Matthew, 284) concludes that “the girl apparently has no strong feelings about the matter.” Regardless of the reason for this consultation, a reason which Matthew does not offer his readers, Herodias’ daughter transforms her mother’s “prompting” into her own insistent and personal demand.
44 Gibbs, Matthew 11:2-20:34, 740.
will and forcing “the king” himself (14:9a) to meet her demands. Such is Matthew’s complex “lower-level” portrait of Herodias’ daughter.
“The Queen of the South Will Rise Up”: Imperial Women from the God’s-Eye Perspective
Matthew’s portraits of imperial women on the “lower level “of his narrative demonstrate a striking diversity of experiences vis-à-vis the ultimate powers of empire, namely, the king or governor in question. And these women exhibit greater or lesser degrees of success in their everyday negotiation of empire. It is the “upper level” of his narrative, however, on which Matthew ultimately assesses the character of these imperial women and the significance of their everyday life in the halls of power. And, as is the case throughout Matthew’s narrative, the “God’s-eye” perspective frequently turns “lower-level” reality on its head in ironic fashion.
The “queen of the South,” however, does not fit this pattern. Instead, her already positive “lower-level” portrait in her own real world finds added strength in Matthew’s “upper-level” assessment. Within Matthew’s narrative the “queen of the South” appears not as a character “on stage,” as it were, but rather in a response by Jesus to the scribes and Pharisees who “wish to see a sign” from him (12:38). Here Jesus first excoriates the “evil and adulterous generation” who request this “sign” (12:39a) and warns that “no sign will be given to it except the sign of Jonah” (12:39b).
By contrast Jesus then commends the “people of Nineveh” (12:41a) for their “repentant” response to the “proclamation of Jonah” (12:41b) and the “queen of the South” (12:42a) for her travel “from the ends of the earth” in order “to listen to the wisdom of Solomon” (12:42b). And Jesus goes on to proclaim that both of these parties will “rise up” at the judgment with this generation “and condemn it” (12:41a, 42a), since they responded faithfully in their own day (12:41b, 42b), while “this generation” has failed to respond faithfully to “something [even] greater” than Jonah or Solomon (12:41c, 42c).
Accordingly, in a move clearly as astonishing as his subsequent commendation of present-day “tax collectors and sinners,” who will precede the Jewish religious leadership into the kingdom of heaven (21:31), Jesus transforms a strikingly “odd couple” of historical Gentile parties, people with vastly different historical reputations (Jon 1:2; 1
Kgs 10:1–2), into human agents of God’s judgment. This move is rhetorically strategic. Jesus himself has recently pronounced “woes” on Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum (11:21a; cf. 11:23a) and warned them of dire outcomes worse than those for Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom “on the day of judgment” (11:22//11:24) for their failure to “repent” (11:21c; cf. 11:23c) vis-à-vis the “deeds of power” (11:21b//11:23b) done in their midst. Now Jesus hands just such words of eschatological “condemnation” (12:41a//12:42a) over to the “people of Nineveh” and the “queen of the South” for their own proclamation “at the judgment” (12:41a//12:42a) against “this [evil and adulterous] generation” (12:41a//12:42a; cf. 12:39a), who have likewise failed to “repent” (12:41b; cf. 12:42b).
Equally remarkable here, within the cultural world of Matthew’s narrative, is Jesus’ portrayal, in Levine’s words, of “[t]he woman’s role as a witness in a lawcourt,” a portrayal which “shows that Matthew [and clearly the Jesus of Matthew’s narrative along with Matthew] elevates those who do not exploit positions of power and condemns attitudes of complacency.”45 Thus Jesus himself raises the status of the “queen of the South” both culturally and eschatologically through his commendation of her vis-à-vis “this evil and adulterous generation.”
But this is not all. Through the rhetorical crafting of his narrative Matthew depicts the “queen of the South” (12:42) as an unmistakable female parallel to the “wise men from the East” (2:1).46 The parallels here are crucial to Matthew’s narrative rhetoric. Not only are both characters/character groups associated with “wisdom,” the “queen of the South” through association with Solomon (12:42b) and the Persian astrologers through their star-gazing activities (2:2). They are both likewise Gentiles, who travel long distances from their Gentile lands of origin in “the South” (12:42a) and “the East” (2:1) to come to Jerusalem, the central locus of the Jewish community, in order to engage and honor Jewish royalty. For her part the “queen of the South” seeks out the “wise” king, Solomon (12:42b; cf. 1 Kgs 10:1–13), while the “wise men” seek “the [one] who has been born king of the Jews” (2:2, DJW). And both of their searches are ultimately successful. The “queen of the South” reaches Jerusalem, sits in the king’s court, and “listen[s] to the wisdom of Solomon” (12:42b), while the “wise men” reach Bethlehem (2:1–10), “see” the child they are seeking (2:11a), “worship” the child (2:11b, DJW), and “offer
45 Levine, “Matthew,” 257.
46 Keener, Gospel of Matthew, 368–69.
him [royal] gifts” (2:11c).
In both stories Matthew offers highest rhetorical commendation for Gentiles who have engaged with “wisdom” or offered “worship” which their Jewish counterparts have failed to do (2:1–12; 12:42). And both accounts clearly reflect Matthew’s missionary agenda, which ultimately reaches far beyond the Jewish community (10:5–6; cf. 15:24) and extends to “all the nations” (28:19a, DJW).47 Such is Matthew’s “upper-level” commendation of the “queen of the South,” as she negotiates empire within her world.
Herodias and her daughter (14:1–12), to the contrary, who are both clearly successful in manipulating the power of empire to achieve their personal goals in the real world they inhabit, do not receive the same commendation from Matthew on the “upper level” of his narrative. To begin with, Herodias’ evident vendetta against John the Baptist (14:3–4) and her subsequent conspiracy to bring about his death (14:8) associate her unmistakably with a biblical villain of major reputation. Here Matthew depicts Herodias as the biblical “Jezebel”48 (1 Kgs 16:31), a royal consort seeking to destroy the prophet of the Lord, “Elijah” (1 Kgs 19:1–2; cf. Matt 3:1–12; 11:7–19; 17:9–13), who has challenged her husband Ahab (1 Kgs 18:1–46; cf. Matt 14:3–4) precisely on her account (1 Kgs 18:17–19; cf. Matt 14:3–4).49 And as the “Jezebel” figure within Matthew’s narrative and the one who succeeds, in contrast to her biblical counterpart, in securing the death of her prophetic nemesis (14:8–11; cf. 1 Kgs 19:1–3), Herodias joins the ranks of the Jewish “prophet-killers” whether past (5:12; 21:35–36; 23:29–32, 35), present (17:12), or future (21:38–39; 22:6; 23:34) whom Jesus decries repeatedly in his public proclamation and private teaching.50 Further, Herodias’ “Jezebel” role as the present-day “prophet-killer” within
47 Cf. Keener (Gospel, 368–69), who notes that “Matthew here reemphasizes the Gentile mission: those who know little about Israel’s God (like the Ninevites or the Queen of Sheba, or the Magi earlier in his Gospel) are often least arrogant and hence most responsive to the gospel. (The context of the Queen of Sheba in 1 Kings 10, as with the Ninevites in Jonah, is an Israelite’s witness to the nations.)”
48 Gardner, Matthew, 224.
49 Jezebel’s evil reputation as one who promotes the worship of Baal (1 Kgs 16:31; 18:17–19) lives throughout the New Testament era all the way to John’s Apocalypse, where she resurfaces (Rev 2:20) in the church at Thyatira and receives John’s strong condemnation as “that woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophet and is teaching and beguiling my servants to practice fornication and to eat food sacrificed to idols.”
50 Cf. Luz (Matthew 8–20, 307), who associates John the Baptist with “the Old Testament tradition of ‘murdered prophets.’”
Matthew’s narrative will shortly align her with the role of the Jewish religious leadership, as they maneuver to secure the death of Jesus (26:3–5, 57–68; 27:1–2, 20). As Ben Witherington III notes, “Just as John’s ministry has foreshadowed Jesus’, so does John’s death…, for Herodias, like the chief priests later, finally gets her way through scheming and pressure.”51
But arguably the most direct rhetorical linkage between Herodias, her daughter, and the ongoing narrative is that which Matthew, borrowing from his Markan source, builds between the story of John the Baptist’s death (14:1–12//Mark 6:1–29) and the immediately following story in which Jesus feeds the multitudes (14:12–21//Mark 6:30–44). Here Matthew contrasts the grotesque and death-dealing meal orchestrated conspiratorially by Herodias and secured by her daughter with the bountiful and life-giving meal multiplied by Jesus and served up by Jesus’ disciples to “five thousand men, besides women and children” (14:21).
The parallels and contrasts are instructive. Herodias’ daughter plays the deadly counterpart to Jesus, demanding the head of John the Baptist, and thus John’s death, in language clearly parallel to that of Jesus as he calls for the bread and fish that he will multiply to nourish human lives: 14:8, DJW: “Bring me here the head”//14:18, DJW: “Bring me here the loaves. ” John’s head is then served up as a solitary “meal” for the most powerful woman in the land (cf. 14:11), while the bread and fish that Jesus multiplies serve as sustenance for vast thousands of powerless peasants (14:21).52 And in the end Herodias has a grisly and inedible “head” on a royal “platter” to contemplate (14:8–11), while the peasant masses “satisfy” their physical hunger with bread and fish enough and to spare (14:20, DJW). As Levine summarizes this scene:
The perverse image of John’s head on a dish is replaced by the feeding of the five thousand (14:13–21); the meal of horror gives way to the foreshadowing of the messianic banquet. The explicitly noted presence of women and children at the miraculous meals (14:21; cf. 15:38) contrasts with the presence of Herodias and her daughter at Herod’s feast.53
51 Witherington, Matthew, 284. Cf. Hare, Matthew, 165; Luz, Matthew 8–20, 307.
52 The crowd which Matthew describes, including the women and the children, is clearly much larger than the “five thousand men” whom Matthew enumerates, based on his Markan source (14:21//Mark 6:44).
53 Levine, “Matthew,” 258.
The ultimate outcome is clear for Herodias and her daughter. Success in manipulating and outmaneuvering the powers of empire does not ensure commendation at the “God’s-eye” level of the story. To the contrary, Herodias receives the sharpest rhetorical condemnation of any woman within Matthew’s narrative, condemnation that ranks her not only with a biblical villain of major reputation but also with Jesus’ prominent antagonists, the Jewish religious leadership. And Herodias’ daughter figures as the deadly counterpart to Jesus himself. Such is Matthew’s “upper-level” portrait of Herodias and her daughter.
By contrast, Pilate’s wife, Herodias’ narrative counterpart and the last of the imperial women within Matthew’s narrative, receives the rhetorical approbation that Herodias and her daughter fail to garner, approbation no less than that accorded to the “queen of the South” (12:38–42). Despite her brief appearance within Matthew’s narrative (27:19) and her failure to bend the will of empire to her urgent plea (cf. 27:26), Pilate’s wife ranks rhetorically alongside Joseph, the “righteous man” (1:19, DJW), and the “wise men from the East” (2:1), characters highly acclaimed within Matthew’s narrative. Like Joseph and the “wise men” Pilate’s wife responds obediently to what she has heard “in a dream” (27:19c; cf. 2:12, 13, 19, 22) from God and engages her access to empire in a courageous, if futile, attempt to save Jesus, “that righteous man” (27:19b, DJW), from crucifixion on a Roman cross. As Warren Carter notes, “Her appeal to a dream echoes the birth story, in which dreams reveal God’s will, guard God’s purposes, and guide appropriate behavior.”54 And her actions on Jesus’ behalf clearly establish her own character as “righteous” along with the character of Joseph, the “righteous man” whom she emulates with her actions, and Jesus, “that righteous man,” whose cause she undertakes.55 Further, while Herodias, her Matthean counterpart, ranks within
54 Carter, Margins, 526. Cf. Gardner, Matthew, 389; Levine, “Matthew,” 262; Thomas G. Long, Matthew, Westminster Bible Companion (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997), 312; Saunders, Preaching, 282.
55 With regard to her assessment of Jesus as “that righteous one” (27:19b, DJW), *Matthew likewise links Pilate’s wife materially, if not in verbatim fashion with Judas Iscariot, who proclaims the “innocence” of Jesus in his confession to the chief priests and elders (27:4): “I have sinned by betraying innocent blood. Thus Carter, Margins, 526; Ulrich Luz, Matthew 21–28: A Commentary, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2005), 498. In fact, however, Judas plays the more obvious narrative counterpart to Pilate himself, who ultimately proclaims his own “innocence” rather than that of Jesus (27:24c).
Matthew’s narrative rhetoric among Jewish “prophet-killers” (5:12; 21:35–36, 38–39; 22:6; 23:29–32, 34–35; cf. 17:12), Pilate’s wife joins the Persian astrologers/“wise men” of 2:1–12 among the ranks of faithful Gentiles who seek to save the life of Jesus. But she does so not merely as a Gentile, but precisely as a Gentile woman standing against both the all-male Jewish religious hierarchy collaborating with Rome56 and the masculine powers of empire itself, embodied by her Gentile husband Pilate.
Such is Matthew’s “upper-level” portrait of Pilate’s wife, whose space in his narrative ironically and by contrast to the space devoted to Pilate himself (27:3–26, 62–66; 28:14) occupies a miniscule 27 words total in Matthew’s Greek text. The crucial impact of Pilate’s wife and her positive assessment within Matthew’s narrative rhetoric far outweigh the tiny space that Matthew allots to her story. Levine, for her part, goes beyond the positive impact of Pilate’s wife within Matthew’s narrative rhetoric to assess Matthew’s own rhetorical intentions in telling her story as he does, “The evangelist attempts to eliminate all relationships in which one group exploits or dominates another. Thus, in the Gospel rulers like Herod and Pilate are found wanting in comparison with relatively powerless people like Joseph and Pilate’s wife.”57
“Rachel Weeping for her Children” (2:18): Everyday Life for Non-Imperial Women
Most of the Matthean women whose stories intersect identifiably with empire have neither the imperial status nor the imperial access of the “queen of the South,” Herodias and her daughter, and Pilate’s wife. Rather, they are ordinary women, whether from village or city, who
56 Thus Carter (Margins, 526), who notes, “In contrast to the male (Jewish) religious and political leaders, it is a (Gentile) woman who gains more insight into Jesus.” See also Luz (Matthew 21–28, 498), who observes in somewhat more oblique fashion, “As in 2:1–12 …, a Gentile [here a Gentile woman] sees clearly while a Jewish king and the Jewish leaders [all of them men] are blinded. Against the dark background of the increasingly obvious Jewish guilt the message of the Gentile woman [emphasis mine] appears as a ‘bright foil.’” Cf. Long (Matthew, 312), who highlights the Jewish/Gentile dimensions of this incident without noting the male/female dimensions: “In both cases [i.e., those of the “wise men” and Pilate’s wife], while his own people plot and scheme to destroy Jesus, the king of the Jews, Gentiles receive communication from God in dreams to preserve his life….”
57 Levine, “Matthew,” 252.
negotiate empire each from their own respective distance and position of powerlessness. And the collective impact of empire on these women is far more challenging and, in many instances, far more dangerous than that experienced by Matthew’s imperial women.
Clearly at the bottom of the collective social ladder in this regard are the women enslaved to the powers of empire, whether to the Romans themselves58 or to their Jewish collaborators, the religious elite. Notable within Matthew’s narrative are the accounts of a “servant-girl” (παιδίσκη: 26:69) who shows up “in the courtyard” (26:69) of Caiaphas, the Jewish high priest (cf. 26:3, 57) and “another servant-girl” (ἄλλη: 26:71) who shows up “on the porch” (26:71) of that same complex. These “servant-girls” are clearly enslaved members of Caiaphas’ household, very possibly born into such slavery or enslaved as debtors.59 And while Matthew offers no indication of their assigned tasks as “παιδίσκαι” (26:69/71) of the high priest,60 their very position as female slaves within an androcentric and hierarchical culture establishes without question their essential powerlessness vis-à-vis Caiaphas.61 These women, in their role as “servant-girls” in the household of Caiaphas, have the freedom to converse with and/or pose questions to persons of no major status, who cross their paths “in [Caiaphas’] courtyard” (26:69a) or “on [his] porch” (26:71a). But they have no apparent means to influence the affairs of empire regardless of their association with an imperial household. And if powerlessness vis-à-vis empire is inherent, if not vividly
58 Cf. 8:5–13, the story of a Roman centurion and his male “servant” (παῖς: 8:6, 8, 13). Within the scope of his narrative Matthew does not, however, recount any stories of “servant-girls” (παιδίσκαι) enslaved to Roman officials.
59 As S. Scott Bartchy notes (“Slavery” in ABD 6:67–68), “By the first century C.E. … the children of women in slavery had become the primary source of slaves [in the Mediterranean world].… A further source of slave labor was the enslavement of debtors by their creditors.… Enslavement of debtors was a widespread practice in Palestine.”
60 But note John 18:16, which speaks of “the woman who guarded the gate” (ἡ θυρωρός; cf. John 18:17: ἡ παιδίσκη ἡ θυρωρός) in recounting the story of Peter’s denial. This woman, in apparent contrast to the mere “servant girls” of Matthew’s narrative, is invested rhetorically by John with crucial authority (over men!) to grant or withhold access to Caiaphas’ courtyard (John 18:16).
61 Cf. Keener (Gospel, 654), who depicts the “servant-girl” as “one of minimal social status” and notes that “though the high priest’s servants wielded considerable power, a ‘slave girl’ would have quite little.” But see Carter’s ambiguous assessment (Margins, 516), first describing “the servant-girl” as “one who in terms of gender in an androcentric society is Peter’s inferior,” but then concluding that “[t]hough a slave, she has some status as the slave of the high priest.”
demonstrated, in the lives of these “servant-girls” in Caiaphas’ household, such powerlessness becomes unmistakably visible in the lives of other Israelite/Jewish women whose everyday domains lie well beyond the courtyards and porches of imperial power but whose lives intersect demonstrably with the world of empire. The first such woman in Matthew’s narrative is “the wife of Uriah” (1:6b), identified within the messianic genealogy (1:1; cf. 1:16, 17, 18) as the one “by whom” David becomes the father of Solomon (1:6b). Matthew nowhere recounts the story that lies behind this brief mention of “the wife of Uriah.” He does not need to. The account of David’s cynical use of royal power vis-à-vis Bathsheba (aka “the wife of Uriah”: 1:6b; cf. 2 Sam 11:3b) and her husband Uriah is well known to his Jewish readers from their scriptures (2 Sam 11:2–12:25). And the very insertion of “by the wife of Uriah” (1:6b) into Matthew’s patrilineal genealogical formula (“and _____ was the father of _____”: Matt 1:2–16) serves rhetorically to highlight the “tawdry” and violent sexual scandal that leads to the birth of Solomon (2 Sam 12:24–25).62
The story, as told in 2 Samuel 11:2–12:25, portrays royal evil well beyond that reflected in Samuel’s warning to the people of Israel, when they beg for “a king to govern us” (1 Sam 8:5). As Samuel warns the Israelites (8:13, 16), the king they seek “will take [their] daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers … He will take [their] male and female slaves … and put them to his work.” But David’s abuse of his royal powers goes even further, above all on the sexual and marital front.
David first takes advantage of his visual access to the people under his rule, as he “[walks] about on the roof of the king’s house” (11:2b). From the heights of this royal vantage point (11:2c) David “[sees]” a “very beautiful” woman evidently down below his rooftop lookout in the supposed privacy of her own courtyard in the act of “bathing” (11:2c/d).
Having first violated the woman’s privacy, David next engages in royal espionage, “[sending]” someone to “inquire about the woman” (11:3a), namely “Bathsheba daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite” (11:3b, emphasis mine). Then, in full awareness that he is dealing
62Thus. Garland (Reading Matthew, 18), who comments, “The name of Uriah, a Hittite, dredges up the tawdry story of David’s adultery and death-dealing (2 Sam 11–12).” For a discussion of the strategic insertion of women’s names into Matthew’s messianic genealogy, see Weaver, Irony, 126–28.
with another man’s wife, David makes still more brazen use of his royal power of command, “send[ing] messengers to get her” (11:4a), an action that she as a “subject” of the king has no power to refuse.63 So she “[comes] to [David]” (11:4b), as sent for and commanded by the king. David then “[lies] with [the wife of Uriah]” (11:4c), the central act toward which this entire narrative has been driving from its inception. Nor is this, as it is frequently portrayed, Bathsheba’s act of adultery with David.64 Instead, this is clearly David’s act of adultery with Bathsheba, an act best described by the language of “rape.” In Dowsett’s words:
Like Tamar, Rahab and Ruth before her [in the messianic genealogy], Bathsheba could be seen as the hapless victim of a society whose rules were heavily biased in favor of men. When David, lustful, sends “messengers to get her” (2 Sam 11:4), she could hardly choose whether or not to comply: a subject, especially a woman whose husband was away from home, would have no option but to obey the king. The story is usually retold as one of adultery, implying mutual consent. In today’s terms, it was probably closer to rape.65
63 Thus Dowsett (“Matthew,” 521), who highlights Bathsheba’s powerlessness by identifying her as a “subject” of the king.
64 Thus, for example, Levine’s reference (“Matthew,” 253) to “Bathsheba, who committed adultery with David.” Gardner (Matthew, 30) similarly notes that Matthew “[refers to Bathsheba] in a way that underscores her role as an adulteress…. ” See also Robert H. Gundry in reference to other scholars (Matthew: A Commentary on His Literary and Theological Art [Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1982]), 15; Keener, Gospel, 79; Luz, Matthew 1–7: A Commentary, Wilhelm C. Linss, tr. (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 1989), 109.
65 Dowsett, “Matthew,” 521–22. See also Sebastien Doane (“La Caractérisation des personnages royaux en Mt 1–2,” Laval Theologique et Philosophique, 75:3 [October 2019], 366), who speaks of the “l’adultere voire du viol commis par David”; Gundry (Matthew, 15), who “faults” Judah and David over against Tamar and Bathsheba; Francis Wright Beare (The Gospel According to Matthew: Translation, Introduction and Commentary [San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1981], 63), who charges David with “seducing” the wife of Uriah; Carter (Margins, 59), who notes “David’s terrible abuses of power in his acts of adultery and murder”; Hare (Matthew, 6), who attributes the “adultery” in question to David; Long (Matthew, 11), who describes Bathsheba as “the victim of David’s lust”; Saunders (Preaching, 3), who notes that Matthew’s reference to “the wife of Uriah” serves to “[highlight] David’s covetousness and deceit in arranging the death of Bathsheba’s husband; and Boxall (Discovering Matthew, 82), who notes that the decision to view the women of Matthew’s genealogy as “morally dubious … may betray the androcentric presuppositions of commentators who promote [this viewpoint] as much as the
Nor is this the end of the matter. David’s rape of the wife of Uriah happens, as the narrator adds, precisely at a crucial monthly moment, just as she is “purifying herself after her [menstrual] period” (11:4d; cf. Lev. 15:19–33).66 Accordingly Bathsheba, who has by now returned home after her sexual liaison with David (2 Sam 11:4e), “conceives” (11:5a) and “sends” a message back to David, announcing that she is “pregnant” (11:5b).
But David’s violation of Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah, has only just begun. David next engages in cynical and scheming, if ultimately unsuccessful, efforts at royal cover-up. He brings Uriah home from the Israelite battle with the Ammonites (11:1–2, 6–7; cf. 11:11) which is where Uriah was when David first requisitioned Uriah’s wife for his sexual gratification and attempts by every royal ruse possible to get Uriah back into his own house and in bed with his wife (11: 6–8, 12–13a). But David’s efforts are in vain. Uriah refuses on principle, not once but twice, to go home and “lie with [his] wife (11:9–11; cf. 11:13b).
So, David finally pulls out the most powerful weapon in his royal arsenal, namely a scheme to destroy Uriah altogether. And, with the secret collusion and active collaboration of his military general, Joab, David sends Uriah back not merely to war but also to certain death on the fiercest front of the battle with the Ammonites (11:14–17; cf. 11:18–27).67 Uriah dies. Bathsheba no longer has a husband. And with this two-sided fait accompli David now takes full possession of Bathsheba, “[sending] and [bringing] her to his house” (11:27b). For her part “the wife of Uriah” can only “[make] lamentation” over the death of “[Uriah] her husband” (11:26) and “become the wife” (11:27c) of her husband’s effective murderer.68
On the “lower level” of this narrative (2 Sam 11:2–12:25) encapsulated in four cryptic words within Matthew’s messianic genealogy, “by androcentrism of Matthew’s text (what, for example, of the culpability of David in the story of Bathsheba?).”
66 Cf. the footnote on 2 Sam 11:4 (The Harper Collins Study Bible, Fully Revised and Updated, ed. Harold W. Attridge [San Francisco: Harper Collins, 2006], 450), which notes that “Bathsheba’s intercourse with David occurred at a time that was propitious for conception.”
67 The ultimate irony here is that David co-opts Uriah himself as the unwitting messenger who “carries his own death sentence to Joab” (footnote on 2 Samuel 11:14–15, Harper Collins, 450).
68 See 2 Samuel 12:9, where Nathan charges David personally with “[striking] down Uriah the Hittite with the sword” and “[killing] him with the sword of the Ammonites.”
the wife of Uriah” (Matt 1:6b) the outcome of this royal grab for sexual gratification is undeniable. David has won. The wife of Uriah has lost. Vis-à-vis the apparently limitless power of the king this Israelite woman is essentially powerless, above all with regard to her marriage and her sexual life. She cannot shield her private activities from the eyes of the king (11:2). She cannot prevent the king from co-opting her and violating her body by royal command (11:3–4). She cannot hinder the king from impregnating her (11:5), thus threatening her reputation,69 her marriage to Uriah,70 and, potentially, her life itself.71 She cannot deter the king from plotting and securing the death of her husband via royal subterfuge and conspiracy (11:6–25; cf. 11:26a). And she will in fact never know about David’s conspiracy, even as she learns of her husband’s death (11:26a). In the end, she cannot save herself from enforced marriage to the perpetrator of these royal crimes (11:27).72
Vis-à-vis the overwhelming royal power exhibited by the king both lustful and brutal in turn the wife of Uriah has only the power to name her situation (11:5a/5b) and to “lament” her loss (11:26; cf. 12:24a). Thus, Matthew’s cryptic, four-word insertion into his messianic genealogy (“by [the wife] of Uriah”: Matt 1:6b), points to a “lowerlevel” story of powerful royal malfeasance against a powerless woman and her innocent husband.
But within Matthew’s narrative the powers of empire have a profoundly negative impact well beyond the sexual lives and the marriages of the women who live as imperial subjects. For some women Mary, the mother of Jesus (2:13–15, 19–23); her village compatriots, the women of Bethlehem (2:16–18); and the pregnant and nursing women of Jesus’ eschatological discourse (24:19; cf. 24:3–21) the losses
69 Cf. Matthew 1:19a, where Joseph wishes to save Mary from “public disgrace” on account of her so far as he knows, illicit pregnancy (cf. 1:18c). Luz (Matthew 1–7, 119) considers Joseph’s knowledge of the Holy Spirit’s action, before he appears to dismiss it: “The main question is whether Joseph knew of Mary’s pregnancy by the Spirit before the announcement of the angel. If he did not know, then it is most likely that he suspected his fiancée of adultery and therefore wanted to dismiss her” (emphasis mine). But Matthew’s account of Joseph’s initial response and, above all, the angel’s subsequent message makes narrative sense only in light of Joseph’s initial ignorance concerning the role of the Holy Spirit.
70 Cf. Matthew 1:19b–20a, where Joseph plans to “dismiss [Mary] quietly.”
71 Cf. Leviticus 20:10: “If a man commits adultery with the wife of his neighbor, both the adulterer and the adulteress shall be put to death.”
72 Nor can she ultimately keep the child of her body and of David’s passion, a child who dies on account of God’s judgment on David (12:14–23) and a child for whose death David himself must “console” her (12:24a).
inflicted on them by the powers of empire impact family life as a whole, both the lives of the children to whom these women have given birth (or will soon do so) and the women’s lives as mothers of their children. Mary and the women of Jesus’ eschatological discourse, for their part, become political refugees facing the direst of circumstances.73 They must “flee” (2:13; 24:16; cf. 24:20) or be “taken” from (cf. 2:13, 14, 20, 21) their homes and/or homelands, together with their husbands and their children, whether born or unborn, for distant lands (Egypt: 2:13) or challenging destinations (“the mountains”: 24:16), due precisely to the cruel and dangerous exigencies of life under empire.
Mary’s encounter with empire in Matthew 1–2 plays itself out predominantly through the two men in her family, her infant son Jesus (2:1–12) and her husband Joseph (2:13–15, 19–23). Matthew’s narrative focuses almost entirely on these two male figures and their maleoriented encounters with/negotiations of empire.74 By contrast, Matthew never recounts Mary’s thoughts, her words, or, for the most part, her actions.75 Instead, she functions almost entirely as the object of the thoughts, decisions, words, and actions of men or male-depicted angelic beings.76 But, while Mary is silent and passive throughout much of Matthew’s narrative,77 she is both present and central to the imperial action highlighted here.
In fact, Mary encounters the brutal face of empire precisely
73 Cf. Keener (Gospel, 109), who notes, “Jesus and his family survived, but they survived as refugees, abandoning any livelihood Joseph may have developed in Bethlehem and undoubtedly traveling lightly.”
74 By contrast, as universally noted by commentators, Luke tells the story of Jesus’ birth predominantly through Mary’s story (Luke 1:26–45, 56; 2:1–7) and Mary’s voice (1:46–55).
75 Note, however that Matthew attributes one joint action to Joseph and Mary with the temporal clause, “before they lived together (1:18b).”
76 Mary “[is] engaged” to Joseph (1:18b) and “[is] found” [presumably by Joseph] to be pregnant (1:18c). Joseph does not wish “to expose [Mary] to public disgrace” (1:19b) and thus decides to “dismiss her quietly” (1:19c). The “angel of the Lord” (1:20b) tells Joseph not to fear “[taking] Mary as [his] wife” (1:20c) and informs him that the child “conceived in [Mary]” (1:20d) is from the Holy Spirit. Joseph then “[takes Mary] as his wife” (1:24c) but “has no marital relations with her” (1:25a) before she gives birth (1:25b). The magi “[see] the child with Mary, his mother” (2:11b). Later the angel twice directs Joseph to “take the child and his mother” to appointed places (2:13c/20a. Joseph then “[takes] the child and his mother” just as commanded (2:14a/21a).
77 Cf. Boxall, (Discovering Matthew, 84), who notes, “In contrast to Joseph’s lead role, Mary is hardly an active participant in the drama, although she is mentioned almost as often in 1:18–2:23. Almost all the verbs describe actions done to her rather than by her.” See also Levine (“Matthew,” 254) and Pregeant (Matthew, 19), who depict Mary as “passive.”
because of her sole (and crucially feminine and family-oriented) action in this narrative.78 Mary “[bears] a son” (1:21a//23a, 25; cf. 1:21a//23a; cf. 1:16) and thereby becomes “his mother” (2:11b, 13c, 14a, 20a, 21a). As it turns out, she has given birth to royalty. Joseph “son of David” (1:20c) and now Mary’s husband (1:24; cf. 1:19–21) adopts her child into the royal/messianic line of David (1:25; cf. 1:1, 16, 17, 18),79 while Persian astrologers from the East come to Jerusalem and announce Mary’s child as “the [one] who has been born king of the Jews” (2:2a, DJW). And with Joseph’s private act of adoption and the astrologers’ public announcement of “the king of the Jews,” Mary’s “child” (2:8b, 9c, 11b, 13c, 13d, 14a, 20a, 21a) comes immediately into imperial focus. And Mary herself, as the child’s “mother,” is likewise subject, along with her “child,” to profound threat by the powers of empire.
“King Herod” (2:1, 3; cf. 2: 7, 9, 12, 13, 15, 16, 19, 22), the Idumean client king installed by Rome to rule over Judea, is “terrified” (2:3, DJW) at the prospect of a rival king, however newborn he might be (cf. 2:1, 7, 16b). Accordingly, he wields his royal power swiftly and strategically to eradicate this royal threat. Within Matthew’s narrative Herod’s power is visible on crucial fronts.80 He has a royal title (2:1, 3, 9) that conveys his power audibly. He has political clout with the people under his rule, with an ability to bend the emotions of “all Jerusalem” (2:3b) toward his own emotional state. He has power of connections, with access not only to the entire class of Jewish intelligentsia in Jerusalem (2:4a) but also to visiting dignitaries from distant regions (2:1b). He has power of command, with the authority to “call” people into his presence (2:4a, 7a) and to “send” them out to do his bidding (2:8a, 16b). He has strategic skills, the ability to conduct “secret” espionage (2:7a), to interrogate others for useful information (2:4b, 7b), and even to delegate his espionage to those others (2:8b/c). He has a politician’s ability to practice deception effectively vis-à-vis unsuspecting victims (2:8d). Most crucially, Herod has the power of life and death over his subjects, to carry out “search and destroy” missions (2:13d) and to “kill” all those who present a threat to his kingship (2:16c).
78 Apart, that is, from her joint action with Joseph, as noted in the temporal clause, “before they lived together” (1:18b). See footnote 75.
79 See Raymond E. Brown (The Birth of the Messiah: A Commentary on the Infancy Narratives in Matthew and Luke [Garden City, NY: Image, 1979], 139), who identifies Joseph’s “naming” of the child (1:21, 25) as an act of adoption.
80 Cf. Weaver, Irony, 30–32.
By contrast, Mary, the mother of the child, has no visible powers at her command.81 Matthew’s narrative grants her neither access to Herod nor any other means, whether vocal or physical, to protect her child. She is, as Matthew depicts her, completely vulnerable to a vicious and politically instigated death threat against her child.82 All she can do in response to this threat is acquiesce silently and passively, as Joseph, her husband, takes bold action to “flee” hometown and homeland (2:13c), and to “[take] the child and his mother by night and [relocate] to Egypt” (2:14, DJW//2:13c; cf. 2:21//2:20a). In Matthew’s narrative Mary does not even have the power to become a refugee on her own.
The women of Jesus’ eschatological discourse (24:15–22; cf. 24:3–14) “those who are pregnant” (24:19a) and “those who are nursing infants” (24:19b) do not face royal death threats issued against their children (2:8d cf. 2:13d//20b). But they find themselves in an equally challenging situation, needing to “flee” (24:16; cf. 24:20) a far more common danger posed by empire, namely the massive chaos and violence resulting from warfare between nations, accompanied by natural and human-caused disasters (24:6a,7): “And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars…. For nation will rise up against nation, and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines and earthquakes in various places.”
Accordingly, the women of Jesus’ eschatological discourse find themselves forced by the cynical machinations of empire and the unrestrained brutality of imperial armies into a refugee status so horrific that Jesus himself pronounces a “woe” on these women (24:19a/b) which portends the “destruction” to come.83 Jesus then underlines this “woe” with a dire warning to these female refugees with their children, born and unborn (24:20–21): “Pray that your flight [to the mountains: cf. 24:16] may not be in winter or on a sabbath. For at that time there
81 As Keener (Gospel, 110) observes, “Five times Matthew mentions ‘the child and his mother,’ thereby underlining the senselessness of Herod’s paranoid brutality…; texts sometimes emphasized the physical powerlessness of the oppressed to underline the act’s heinousness.”
82 Cf. Weaver, (Irony, 252), who notes, “Beyond the vulnerability of women’s status within a patriarchal society lies the vulnerability associated with women’s physical and political powerlessness vis-à-vis the forces of violence in the world that they inhabit.… They are vulnerable to vicious death threats on their children that transform entire families into political refugees (2:13–15; cf. 2:22).”
83 Thus Carter (Margins, 474), who notes, “The introductory woe suggests possible destruction (cf. 11:21; 18:7; 23:13, 15, 16, 23, 25, 27, 29; 26:24).”
will be great suffering, such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, and never will be.” In Francis Wright Beare’s words: “The headlong flight suggests a civilian population trying frantically to escape the onset of an invading army…. [These] words speak… of people who leave their home in helter-skelter flight.”84
And while such unprecedented “suffering” (24:16) will without question fall calamitously on the entire Jewish population faced with the military wrath of empire, this “time of intense, unsurpassed suffering” is in fact one “that poses a particularly strong risk to the most vulnerable (24:19–21),” namely pregnant women and mothers with their infant children.85 As Levine notes,“[N]ot only will they too undergo the tribulation in fleeing and finding refuge; they will have the added physical burdens unique to women.”86
The challenges that such women face during wartime “flight” (24:16; cf. 24:20) are undeniably daunting. In Ulrich Luz’s words, “Matthew may have been thinking of the danger of premature births (cf. 2 Esdr 6:21) or that pregnant women cannot move quickly enough in flight or that nursing women might lose time when feeding their children.”87 Keener, for his part, highlights the potentially tragic outcomes of such flight:
The ‘woe’ (cf. 18:7; 25:13) over the pregnant and nursing (24:19; cf. Sib. Or. 2.190–92, if pre-Christian) signifies the difficulty of the flight and survival …; the pregnant may also be more susceptible to death.… But it probably indicates no less the sorrowing of losing infants in the trauma (cf. 2 Bar. 10:13–15).88
84 Beare, Gospel, 469. Cf. Garland (Reading Matthew, 237), who notes, “This command to take wing … alludes to the horrible devastation to be wrought on Jerusalem. The breakout to the mountains whose caves provided traditional hideouts makes sense only to escape the temporal dangers of a brutal war.” But while Beare and Garland discuss the historical origins of this saying of Jesus within the context of the historical war of 66–70 CE, this narrative study accepts Matthew’s own narrative designation of these words as Jesus’ discourse depicting the tribulations preceding “[his] coming” (24:3d) and “the [consummation] of the age” (24:3d, DJW).
85 Saunders, Preaching, 246. Cf. Witherington (Matthew, 447), who notes, “Jesus foresees that the time of destruction will be most difficult on those most vulnerable and immobile those who are pregnant or those who have newborns ”
86 Levine, “Matthew,” 260.
87 Luz, Matthew 21–28, 197. Cf. Garland (Reading Matthew, 237), who cites the concern, expressed by Jesus to his disciples, “about those things that might hinder flight pregnancy and nursing children.”
88 Keener, Gospel, 580.
And in the end these pregnant women and nursing mothers have no power to exert against the empire that threatens their lives and the lives of their children, whether born or unborn. In the face of such unprecedented terror and suffering, these women can only “flee to the mountains” (24:16: cf. 24:20) in the desperate attempt to save both their own lives and the lives of their children.89
But for the mothers of Bethlehem all those whose “children,” like the “child” Jesus himself, “were two years old or under, according to the time that [Herod] had learned from the wise men” (2:16c) it is too late even for “flight.” There is no time for these women to “flee” the gut-wrenching destruction that lies ahead. Herod who is “infuriated” (2:16b) that the Persian astrologers whom he has cleverly attempted to deceive with his politician’s rhetoric (cf. 2:8) have now “tricked” him instead (2:16a) takes immediate and brutal action to recoup his loss of crucial intelligence and to alleviate his bitter humiliation. Without any hint of due process,90 Herod “[sends] and [kills] all the [male] children in and around Bethlehem” (2:16c, DJW) whose ages fit the time frame of the astral appearance.
91
And with this massacre, Herod, the Roman-authorized face of empire within Judea (cf. 2:1), decisively demonstrates his imperial power. By the same token he leaves the powerless mothers of Bethlehem identified collectively and metaphorically as “Rachel,” their ancestral mother (2:18c; cf. Jer 3:15) “weeping” (2:18c) and utterly “inconsolable”
89 Cf. Weaver, Irony, 252.
90 Thus Eugene Eung-Chun Park (“Rachel’s Cry for Her Children: Matthew’s Treatment of the Infanticide by Herod,” The Catholic Biblical Quarterly 75:3 [2013], 477), who notes, “It is important to observe Matthew’s succinct way of telling this incident. There is nothing between Herod’s rage and his action to kill. The former directly causes the latter …; there is no legal proceeding that endorses the massacre.”
91 Park (“Rachel’s Cry,” 478) challenges the widely held view that Matthew necessarily refers to the massacre of male children only: “Matthew says that Herod killed πάντας τὸυς παῖδας (“all the children”). The forms are masculine accusative plural, and it has been almost unanimously interpreted as meaning only male infants.… Strictly speaking, however, this phrase could be construed as a common gender inclusive of both male and female infants. The singular form of the noun παῖς can either be masculine or feminine in its grammatical gender ” But in light of the apparent biblical allusion to Pharoah’s death edict against the male children of the Hebrews (Exod 1:15–22; cf. Doane, “Rachel Weeping: Intertextuality as a Means of Transforming the Readers’ Worldview,” Journal of the Bible and Its Reception, 4:1 [2017], 2; Park, “Rachel’s Cry,” 479), it is far more likely that Matthew intends to speak of male children.
(2:18d, DJW) over the loss of their children “[who] are no more” (2:18e). Within Jeremiah 31:15 the text which Matthew cites here to identify Herod’s massacre as fulfillment of biblical prophecy (2:17) the biblical Rachel once mourned the loss of her adult “children,” as they trudged past her tomb in Ramah (cf. 1 Sam. 10:2) on their bitter journey into exile.92 Now, from Matthew’s new narrative perspective, the present-day “Rachel” here associated with Bethlehem according to Gen. 35:16–19; 48:7 becomes, in strategic fashion, “a witness to the slaughter carried out by Herod’s officers. Weeping over the loss of her latter-day children, she cries out with a voice that is heard as far away as Ramah!”93 In Keener’s words, “Rachel, who wept from her grave . . . during the captivity, [is] now weeping at another, nearer crisis significant in salvation history.”94
On the “lower level” of Matthew’s narrative i.e., for the actors “on stage” it is clear that empire has won and the mothers of Bethlehem have lost. Herod, so far as he knows, has annihilated the threat to his imperial power. The mothers of Bethlehem, by contrast, have undeniably lost their children, the future that these children signify for their mothers, and with their children and their future everything but their collective “voice,” a “voice” filled with “wailing and loud lamentation” (2:18a/b; cf. Jer 31:15). For these women, who could by no means “flee” a disaster for which they had no warning (cf. 2:13),
92 Whether this journey into exile takes the “children” of Rachel to Assyria (thus Beare, Gospel, 83; John Bright, Jeremiah: Introduction, Translation, and Notes [Garden City: Doubleday, 1965], 281–282, as cited in Doane, “Rachel Weeping,” 7) or Babylonia, as per Jer 40:1 (thus Doane, “Rachel Weeping,” 8; Hare, Matthew, 16; Keener, Gospel, 111; Park, “Rachel’s Cry,” 481) does not alter the emotional impact of Rachel’s grieving over her lost “children.” Nor does it exhaust the semantic possibilities of this allusion. As Park (“Rachel’s Cry,” 482) notes, “Matthew’s citation of Jer 31:15 in conjunction with Herod’s infanticide would have evoked in the minds of the Jewish Christian audience, who directly or indirectly would have experienced another fall of Jerusalem in 70 C.E., a highly complex set of emotions.… In that context, mentioning the Jeremian verse on Rachel’s cry would create overlapping images of the first and the second falls of Jerusalem. Then in the new literary context of Matthew’s birth narrative of Jesus, the same Rachel’s cry is now more vividly heard as her mourning for all the slaughtered infants and their bereaved mothers in Bethlehem, all anonymous and yet named here as the beloved children of Rachel.”
93 Gardner, Matthew, 54. Cf. Beare, Gospel, 83; Keener, Gospel, 111; Witherington, Matthew, 70.
94 Keener, Gospel, 111.
there is no hope in this moment, only grief and despair.95 “And in the face of all the violence that Herod has planned, and his soldiers have carried out, these women can do nothing more than “‘weep’ for their murdered infants (2:17–28).”96
And while the unnamed women of Bethlehem loudly mourn the loss of their children, whose brutal deaths have occurred at the hands of empire (2:16–18), the unnamed woman of Bethany (26:6–13)97 goes one step further in an equally empire-laden context. This woman takes proleptic action, silent but symbolic, to anoint Jesus at a moment fraught with tension, as Jesus has just announced his impending crucifixion (26:1–2; cf. 16:21–23; 17:22–23; 20:17–19) and the Jewish religious leaders, collaborators with empire, have just plotted in secret to bring about his death (26:3–5). As Jesus now reclines at table in Bethany at the home of Simon the leper (26:6, 7c), this unnamed, and
95 Many scholars (thus Carter [Margins, 87], Hare [Matthew, 16], Keener [Gospel, 111–112], Saunders [Preaching, 16], Witherington [Matthew, 71]) point to the wider context of Jeremiah 31:15, which opens out (31:16ff) onto a “hope”-filled horizon, where “there is hope for your future” and where “your children shall come back to their own country” (31:17; cf. 31:23–34). But within Matthew’s present narrative context, there is no immediate warrant for future “hope.” Instead, Matthew’s citation in 2:18 of Jeremiah 31:15 serves precisely and solely within this narrative context to provide biblical grounding (2:17) for Herod’s massacre of the children of Bethlehem (2:16). Cf. Michael Knowles (Jeremiah in Matthew’s Gospel: The Rejected Prophet Motif in Matthaean Redaction [Sheffield: JSOT, 1993], 42–52) and Barnabas Lindars (New Testament Apologetic [Philadelphia: Westminster, 1961], no page identified), as cited in Sebastien Doane, “Rachel Weeping,” 9.
96 Weaver, Irony, 252.
97 Boxall (Discovering Matthew, 56) sees irony here as he notes, “We are told the name of the owner of the house visited by Jesus in Bethany (Simon the leper) but not of the woman who anointed Jesus’ head with ointment, despite [Jesus’] promise that what she had done would be told ‘in honor of her.” (emphasis mine). But Witherington (Matthew, 475), to the contrary concludes that “[A]part from Jesus, the subject of this ‘bios,’ other people fall into the background and are not given personal attention. [This is] why on the one hand we are told that the woman’s deed will serve as a memorial to her wherever the Gospel is preached to the world, but on the other hand she is no more named than are the disciples who objected to her extravagance.” He accordingly explains Matthew’s mention of Simon the leper as Matthew’s way to “fix the biographical story in a precise locale, which is also typical of such narratives.” Dowsett (“Matthew,” 539), Gardner (Matthew, 369), and Luz (Matthew 21–28, 329, 334) mention the woman’s unnamed character, but offer no explanations.
apparently uninvited, woman interrupts Simon’s banquet,98 as she “[comes] to Jesus with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment” (26:7a) and “[pours] it on his head” (26:7b).
Matthew does not grant this woman either voice or words to explain her action. From Douglas R. A. Hare’s perspective, “Matthew shows no interest in naming a motive. Presumably he, like his readers ancient and modern, regarded the anointing simply as an act of love.”99 But in fact Matthew hints rhetorically at what could be the most basic significance of the woman’s act from her perspective. This is, to all appearances, the gift of a wealthy woman. The ointment that she pours on Jesus’ head is “very costly” (26:7a), something immediately obvious to Jesus’ disciples, who deride her act as “this waste” (26:8b) and object indignantly that this ointment “could have been sold for a large sum” (26:9a).100 And as this apparently wealthy woman pours out this “very costly” ointment on the head of Jesus, she is clearly bestowing honor on one whom she loves deeply and values profoundly. In Witherington’s words, “What the woman did was a beautiful act of honoring Jesus and showing he was precious like the ointment and that one must seize the moments when they come to do something beautiful for Jesus.”101 Beyond this rhetorical hint, however, Matthew tells his readers nothing about the woman’s own reason for anointing Jesus’ head.
But in response to the disciples’ outrage (cf. 26:8a, DJW) Jesus immediately takes up the woman’s cause and supplies a context-relevant motive for her action: “Why are you bothering this woman? She has [carried out a good deed for] me.... When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial” (26:10b/c, 12, TNIV/DJW, emphasis mine).
98 Cf. the Lukan version of this traditional story (Luke 7:36–50), where Jesus and his host, a “Pharisee” (7:36 x2, 37, 39) named “Simon” (7:40, 43, 44), engage in protracted dialogue concerning this interruption.
99 Hare, Matthew, 293.
100 From Carter’s perspective (Margins, 502), “Either she is a wealthy woman or has saved what little she has for this costly act.” It is most likely, however, that Matthew intends his readers to view this woman as wealthy. The subsequent discussion between Jesus and his disciples about “giving” the proceeds from the sale of the ointment “to the poor” (26:9b; cf. 26:11a) makes sense only if the woman herself is wealthy and thus not the intended recipient of the money from the sale.
101 Witherington, Matthew, 475. Cf. Gardner (Matthew, 369), who notes that this woman is one of those “outside the circle of the twelve, but who honor Jesus with gestures or words appropriate for disciples.” See also Luz (Matthew 21–28, 336), who notes that the woman “could have intended [her act] as a special honor for Jesus.”
And with Jesus’ words, a broad new horizon of meaning opens up vis-à-vis the woman and her act of anointing. No longer has she done “simply an act of love”102 or merely “an act of honoring Jesus,”103 significant as such acts might be. Now, as Jesus reveals to his disciples and, as it appears, to the woman herself,104 the true significance of her act relates directly to the present moment, fraught with empire-related tension, at which this “good deed” occurs. Regardless of the woman’s own understanding of her action, Jesus establishes that she has “done something that was necessary for his burial…, [namely] the anointing of a corpse.”105 Accordingly, at this moment, mere days away from Jesus’ crucifixion at the hands of empire (26:1–2, 3–5), this unnamed and voiceless woman takes proleptic action, symbolic if unwitting, to anoint Jesus’ body for burial in light of the imperial execution that he awaits.”106
This revelatory word of Jesus thus brings empire into clear focus. The woman’s action now relates not merely to her love for Jesus nor to her desire to honor Jesus. Now her action points directly to Jesus’ death, which will happen at the hands of empire (26:1–2, 3–5). This imperial crucifixion is one that Jesus has long predicted with clarity and persistence (cf. 16:21–23; 17:22–23; 20:17–19). Jesus’ (male) disciples are outraged (cf. 16:22) and “greatly distressed” (17:23c) by Jesus’ predictions. They respond to this imperial threat on Jesus’ life first with vociferous words of denial (16:21–22) and finally with a wildly
102 Hare, Matthew, 293.
103 Witherington, Matthew, 475.
104 Cf. Luz (Matthew 21–28, 338), who notes “that Jesus, who is aware of his own future, here gives the woman’s act a new meaning of which she probably had not been thinking.” See also Hare (Matthew, 293), who questions, “Does the woman intend to anoint [Jesus’] body for burial, as Jesus suggests? This . . . cannot be demonstrated from the text; it looks, rather, as if Jesus announces the significance of her act as something unknown to her.”
105 Luz, Matthew 21–28, 338. Cf. Donald Senior (The Gospel of Matthew, Interpreting Biblical Texts [Nashville: Abingdon, 1997], 53), who notes, “This anonymous woman has performed a sacred obligation of Judaism, anointing the body of Jesus in preparation for his death and burial.” Gardner (Matthew, 369) similarly observes, “The use of oils and spices to prepare a corpse for burial was a customary act of Jewish piety.”
106 Cf. Saunders (Preaching, 265), who observes, “Matthew does not tell us what the woman understands or intends by her action, only what Jesus understands by it.… But the woman’s action is nevertheless the right action for this moment, for it focuses attention on the meaning of events about to transpire and reminds the disciples what time they are living in.
swinging sword (26:47–51). But they ultimately have no power to hinder empire or prevent Jesus’ crucifixion.
The woman who interrupts Simon’s banquet has even fewer tools at her disposal and even less power than her male colleagues to impact empire. In Matthew’s narrative she has neither voice nor sword with which she can even attempt to hinder empire or prevent Jesus’ crucifixion. All she has, as Matthew depicts her, is an alabaster jar of expensive embalming ointment. And all she can do in this moment in contrast to her male counterparts with their vociferous words and violent actions is to silently carry out the women’s work107 of anointing Jesus’ body for burial vis-à-vis the upcoming crucifixion and death that she has no means to prevent.
And this unnamed woman in Bethany is not the only woman powerless to impact empire and prevent the empire-enacted crucifixion of Jesus. Other women, “many” of them (26:55a), have “followed” Jesus from Galilee (27:55b) and “served” him along the way (27:55c), as Matthew now reveals to his readers.108 But once they arrive in Jerusalem, these women have no more means than the unnamed woman of Bethany (26:6–13) to prevent what happens to Jesus at the hands of empire. As Jesus is arrested by Jewish collaborators with empire (26:47–56), tried before Jewish and Roman tribunals (26:57–68; 27:1–2, 11–23), condemned to death by the Roman governor (27:24–26), mocked by an entire cohort of Roman soldiers (27:27–31a/b) and finally crucified at Golgotha (27:31c–38), these women are nowhere to be seen or heard. In Matthew’s narrative they have no presence, no voice, and no weapons (cf. 26:51) to protect Jesus or to prevent his impending crucifixion at the hands of empire.
Only as Jesus finally hangs dying on a Roman cross do these women including “Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee” (27:56) first
107 Cf. Levine (“Matthew,” 261), who designates the act of anointing for burial as “women’s traditional role.”
108 But cf. 20:20, where “the mother of the sons of Zebedee” surfaces without further explanation in a context far away from her Galilean home (cf. 4:21–22), and precisely as Jesus is enroute to Jerusalem (16:21; 20:17–19; cf. 17:22). As Luz notes (Matthew 8–20, 542–43), “When we read the two texts [20:20–21; 27:56] together, they suggest that Matthew imagines that Zebedee’s wife was a follower of Jesus on the way to Jerusalem.”
emerge visibly as a group within Matthew’s narrative.109 And when they emerge, they are doing the only thing they can do in response to the actions of empire, namely, “looking on from a distance” (27:55a). As Luz notes, “[F]or women followers of Jesus it may have been dangerous to risk coming too close to him who was crucified as ‘King of the Jews.’”110 And “from a distance” all these women can do, in Hare’s words, is to be “passive observers of Jesus’ dying.”111 As it clearly appears, empire has won the day and these women have lost. And their only recourse is to “look on [passively] from a distance.”
The next time these women here “Mary Magdalene and the other Mary” emerge within Matthew’s narrative, they are at Jesus’ tomb (27:61). Joseph, “a rich man from Arimathea … who was also a disciple of Jesus” (26:57), has gone to Pilate, the Roman governor (27:58a), requested the body of Jesus (27:58b), and received his request (27:58c). He has then “[taken] the body” (27:59a), “wrapped it” for burial (27:59b), “laid it” in his own tomb (27:60a), “rolled a great stone” to the door of the tomb (27:60b), and “[gone] away” (27:60c).
In contrast to Joseph’s diplomatic efforts with the powers of empire and his physical exertions with the body of Jesus and the “great stone,” Matthew depicts the women simply as “sitting opposite the tomb” (27:61). They take no steps to assist Joseph or to participate in the burial of Jesus’ body. These women, who were once powerless to prevent Jesus’ empire–enacted crucifixion, can once again only sit and watch as an evidently sturdy and demonstrably well-placed male “disciple” wealthy (27:57), landed (27:60), and with political access (27:58) procures Jesus’ body from the powers of empire and buries it. The women’s powerless presence here, by contrast with that of Joseph, serves above all to confirm the facts that Jesus has died at the hands of empire and that his lifeless body, destroyed by empire, now lies entombed at this spot.
Two days later, “as the first day of the week [is] dawning” (28:1a), the women once again “Mary Magdalene and the other Mary” (28:1b)
109 Scholars differ on the identity of “Mary the mother of James and Joseph” in 27:56. In line with Matthew 13:55c, Dowsett (“Matthew,” 540) concludes that “Mary the mother of James and Joseph is probably Jesus’ mother” (emphasis mine). Cf. Hare, Matthew, 324. Luz (Matthew 21–28, 574), to the contrary, concludes that this woman is “certainly not the mother of Jesus…; otherwise she would have been called ‘Jesus’ mother’” (emphasis mine).
110Luz Matthew 21–28, 572–73.
111 Hare, Matthew, 324.
manifest no greater power vis-à-vis empire than they have before, as they come “to observe the tomb” (28:1b, DJW). From Matthew’s perspective, there is no work for them to do on this day (cf. Mark 16:1), since the unnamed woman in Bethany has already carried out the necessary task of anointing Jesus’ body (26:6–13).112 The stated reason for their early morning journey is simply to “observe the tomb,” the place where they have watched Joseph lay the dead body of Jesus. So far as they are aware, empire has indeed won; and Jesus’ body lies lifeless inside that “tomb” and behind that “great stone” rolled to its door (27:59–61). Clear evidence of this reality for these women lies in the presence of a “guard” (27:65, 66; 28:11; cf. 28:4a) of Roman “soldiers” (28:12) posted at the tomb,113 in front of the “great stone,” now “sealed” shut (27:66) and thus “secured” from tampering (27:65, 66).
In response to the death of Jesus and the present signs of imperial power guarding his tomb, these women once again do the only thing they know to do, namely, “observe the tomb” that represents empire’s victory and their own loss. As Thomas G. Long notes, “What they expected to see, of course was Jesus’ grave, a monument to the sadness they felt in the soul, a confirmation of the cruel truth that the world finally beats mercy and righteousness to death.”114 Accordingly, if there is a task associated with this journey of the women “to [observe] the tomb,” it is clearly the task of mourning the dead.115
112 As Luz notes (Matthew 21–28, 329), “[T]he unknown woman in Bethany does precisely what women at the tomb no longer need to do: she anoints the body of Jesus.”
113 Pilate’s instruction to the chief priests in 27:65a, Ἔχετε κουστωδίαν, can be parsed grammatically either as a 2nd plural present indicative (“You have a [Jewish] guard” [NRSV text]) or as a 2nd plural present imperative (“Take a [Roman] guard” [NRSV note, DJW]). The present narrative context of Pilate’s words, however, demands the imperative force of the verb, thus implying a “guard” of Roman soldiers Multiple clues establish this translation: (1) The chief priests would have no need to gain Pilate’s permission to set their own Jewish guard at such a tomb; (2) The term used for “guard,” κουστωδία, is a military term for a guard of soldiers; (3) The “guard” in question is later identified as comprised of “soldiers” (στρατιώται) in 28:12; (4) The chief priests’ are concerned about whether Pilate will get word of the empty tomb (28:14) and thus, accordingly, the culpable negligence of his own soldiers.
114 Long, Matthew, 322.
115 Cf. Gardner (Matthew, 399), who notes that the women “[p]resumably plan to resume their vigil of mourning.” They clearly do not come to “anoint” Jesus’ body with “spices” (cf. Mark 16:1), whether “because according to 26:12 it had already been done or because this idea was hopeless in view of the guards at the tomb” (Luz, Matthew 21–28, 594; cf. Gardner, Matthew, 399; Saunders, Preaching, 294). Contra Carter who asserts (Margins, 539) that the women “have seen the accuracy of
And such is the “lower-level” portrait of ordinary women within Matthew’s narrative vis-à-vis the powers of empire. Face to face with such powers, these ordinary women have no means to alter or prevent the empire-instigated tragedies that overtake them. Instead, they can only live out lives of slavery (26:69–72); flee their homes and/or homelands under threatening circumstances with children in arms or in utero (2:13–15; 24:15–22); wail loudly for infants murdered by the military forces of empire (2:16–18); look on from a distance at public executions (27:55–56); lament the violent deaths of those whom they love (2 Sam 11:26–27a); Matt 2:16–18; carry out silent, pre-burial rituals to honor the dead (26:6–13); and observe the tombs of those whose bodies empire has destroyed (28:1).116 Within Matthew’s narrative life is often bitter and agonizing for non-imperial women who come faceto-face with empire.
“Do
Not Be Afraid” (28:5a, 10a): Non-Imperial Women
from the God’s-Eye Perspective
While Matthew’s non-imperial women frequently experience terror, brutality, profound grief, and massive injustice at the hands of empire, Matthew persistently and ironically subverts evident realities for these non-imperial women through his narrative rhetoric. This Matthean rhetorical pattern is visible from beginning to end of Matthew’s narrative in striking fashion, wherever non-imperial women find their lives impacted by empire.
For those at the bottom of the social ladder, namely, the “servantgirls” at Caiaphas’ palace, who live lives of female enslavement to the powers of empire, Matthew offers wry but undeniable vindication visà-vis their male imperial overlords. For their part, Caiaphas and the religious leadership (“the chief priests and the whole council”: 26:59),117 prominent Jewish collaborators with empire, are seeking “false testimony against Jesus” (26:59b) and calling “false witnesses” (26:60a), in order to bring about Jesus’ death (26:59b). But even as they [Jesus’] prediction of death; now they await resurrection” the force of Matthew’s narrative rhetoric (28:1–10) grounds itself on the assumption that the women are not merely “frightened” by the events that transpire (28:5b, 8a, 10b), just like the guards at the tomb (28:4a), but are likewise surprised by these events.
116 Cf. Weaver, Irony, 252.
117 Elsewhere Matthew describes this group as “the high priest” (26:57a) and “the scribes and the elders” (26:57b).
do so, Caiaphas’ “servant-girls” witness truthfully concerning Peter and his close association with Jesus: “You also were with Jesus the Galilean” (26:69b); “This man was with Jesus of Nazareth” (26:71b). Where the powers of empire rely on falsehood to achieve their strategic political goals (26:57–68), powerless but observant “servant-girls” enslaved to empire118 boldly speak truth in the courtyards and on the porches of power (26:69–75).119
Accordingly, these two stories (26:57–68 and 27:69–75) regularly and correctly interpreted as texts which demonstrate the ironic narrative contrast between Jesus and Peter120 serve likewise to highlight the ironic contrast between the male powers of empire and empire’s humblest female subjects vis-à-vis falsehood and truth.121 Thus, in Carter’s words, “The [i.e., Matthew’s] narrative again exhibits the power of the margins.”122
The wife of Uriah (1:6b) receives her rhetorical vindication from Matthew on the “upper level” of the narrative by the sheer virtue of her extraordinary mention along with that of Tamar (1:3a), Rahab (1:5a), and Ruth (1:5b) within Matthew’s patrilineal genealogy, where men “are the fathers” of their sons in unbroken sequence from
118 Cf. Saunders (Preaching, 278), who notes, “Twice [Peter] is noticed by observant servant girls ” Levine (“Matthew,” 261), for her part, concludes, “The women of Jerusalem … appear to have direct familiarity with Jesus and his followers.”
119 Cf. Long’s similar comments (Matthew, 308) framed in terms of the contrast between Jesus and Peter, “If the interrogation of Jesus before the Sanhedrin (Matt. 26:57–68) is the picture of an innocent man falsely accused, then this story [of Peter and the servant-girls] is the negative of that imprint. In Jesus’ case two witnesses were scraped up to give false testimony. Here two witnesses, both servant-girls, tell the [sic] God’s truth: Peter was with Jesus.”
120 Thus, for example, Long (Matthew, 308, as per footnote 119 above) and Witherington (Matthew, 500), who notes, “The Matthean account of Jesus’ reaction and testimony is clearly meant to be contrasted with the witness, or lack thereof, by Peter [who], under pressure from a slave girl, denies Jesus.”
121 Irony extends in all directions within this text, including between Peter and the servant-girls, a topic beyond the scope of the present study. As noted elsewhere (Weaver, Irony, 260): “The servant girls in Caiaphas’ household (26:69, 71) exhibit no visible faith in “Jesus the Galilean/Nazarene.” But their persistence in questioning Peter about his own association with Jesus serves ironically to highlight both their truthful proclamation that Peter belongs “with” Jesus (26:69, 71) and Peter’s untruthful denials that he “knows” Jesus (26:70, 72).” And numerous commentators highlight the ironic reality that Peter denies Jesus before persons of lesser status or social power than himself: Thus Carter (Margins, 519), Hare (Matthew, 310), Keener (Gospel, 654), and Witherington (Matthew, 500).
122 Carter, Margins, 519.
Abraham (1:1, 2, 17) to Jacob, the father of Joseph (1:16a). While this patrilineal genealogy will hardly surprise Matthew’s readers within their first-century patriarchal culture, Matthew’s unanticipated introduction of four women into this genealogy as the female agents of the male “fathering” raises an immediate question as to Matthew’s purpose for doing so.
Many scholars point to the “Gentile” character of this list of women123 and suggest that Matthew’s text “foreshadows the welcome of Gentiles into the church.”124 But while such an explanation serves effectively to depict the situations of Tamar, Rahab, and Ruth, it stands on shaky ground precisely with reference to “Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite” (2 Sam 11:3b; cf. Matt 1:6b), who is most naturally viewed within the 2 Samuel narrative as a Hebrew woman.125
An alternative and far sturdier narrative explanation interprets Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba as women whose personal circumstances and vulnerable sexual reputations126 point the readers forward narratively toward Mary, who stands at the climax of Matthew’s
123 Thus, for example, Keener (Gospel, 78–79), who notes that Matthew “names four women whose primary common link is their Gentile ancestry: Tamar of Canaan, Rahab of Jericho…, Ruth the Moabitess, and the ex-wife of Uriah the Hittite.” See also Garland (Reading Matthew, 18), Gundry (Matthew, 15), Hare (Matthew, 6), Luz (Matthew 1–7, 110), and Witherington (Matthew 40). Senior (Gospel, 89), for his part, refers to these women simply as “outsiders,” hinting indirectly at their Gentile status and pointing toward their “extraordinary and in some cases disconcerting circumstances.”
124 Levine, “Matthew,” 253. But while Levine acknowledges the “Gentile” motif as “correct” as far as it goes, she ultimately views this motif as “insufficient” to explain Matthew’s striking inclusion of women in his genealogy.
125 Keener (Gospel, 79), who supports the “Gentile” motif, appeals to “Uriah the Hittite,” Bathsheba’s husband, to associate Bathsheba with the “Gentile” community. Similarly, Luz (Matthew 1–7, 110), who claims no information about Bathsheba’s background, points suggestively to the Hittite identity of Uriah. W. F. Albright and C. S. Mann (Matthew: Introduction, Translation, and Notes, The Anchor Bible [Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1971] view “at least three” of these women as Gentiles, while Levine (“Matthew,” 253) straightforwardly identifies Bathsheba as a “Hebrew.”
126 The evidence for such an interpretation is clear within the respective biblical narratives. Tamar secretly “plays the whore” with Judah, her father-in-law, when he does not provide her with a functioning levirate marriage partner (Gen 38:24; cf. 38:1–23). Rahab is a “prostitute” by trade (Josh 2:1). Ruth “[lies] at [Boaz’] feet” at the threshing floor in an act that “must not be known” to the people of Bethlehem (Ruth 3:14). And “the wife of Uriah” is requisitioned and effectively raped by David in a sexual encounter that threatens her marriage, her reputation, and potentially her life itself (2 Sam 11:2–5; cf. 11:27–12:6).
genealogy (1:16b).127 Like the women preceding her, Mary is not only the woman “of whom” (1:16b; 1:3a, 5a, 5b, 6b) Jesus is born, but also and most crucially for this interpretation, the woman whose own vulnerable sexual reputation, like theirs, is clearly at stake in the story of her pregnancy (1:18–25).128
Accordingly, from the narrative perspective of Matthew’s Gospel, these four women collectively, and “the wife of Uriah” in specific, each with their own troubled circumstances and vulnerable reputations, “set the stage for Mary, whose conception of Jesus also raise[s] questions of impropriety . . . .”129 With this “stage-setting” role Matthew elevates “the wife of Uriah” powerless as she is vis-à-vis the empire of her day and precisely due to that powerlessness to rhetorical equality with Mary, the one “of whom Jesus [is] born” (1:16b). And “the wife of Uriah,” like Mary herself, thus becomes a critical link in Matthew’s messianic (Christos: 1:1, 16b, 17c, 18a) genealogy. David E. Garland, for his part, identifies the crucial significance of this linkage:
As the four women in the genealogy are vehicles of God’s messianic plan in spite of their irregular circumstances, so
127 Cf. Weaver, Irony, 254.
128 Thus Albright/Mann (Matthew, 6), Boxall (Discovering Matthew, 82), Garland (Reading Matthew, 19), Levine (“Matthew,” 253), Long (Matthew, 11), Luz (Matthew 1–7, 109), Saunders (Preaching, 3), and Witherington (Matthew, 41). Scholars disagree, however, on how these women point toward Mary. On the one hand some scholars contrast these women with “the great matriarchs of Israel” (Garland, Reading Matthew, 17) such as Sarah, Rebekah, and Leah (Hare, Matthew, 6), viewing them instead as “questionable” people (Hare, Matthew, 6), women of “spotted histories” and “irregular circumstances” (Garland, Reading Matthew, 17, 19), “morally dubious” (Boxall, Discovering Matthew, 82, citing others), “scandalous” (Keener, Gospel, 79, citing others), and “sinners such as these the unrighteous and the disreputable,” (Garland, Reading Matthew, 18, citing “many”). Other scholars depict these women as “helpless and oppressed” (Garland, Reading Matthew, 18) or as “hapless victims of exploitative men” (Dowsett, “Matthew,” 522; cf. Levine, “Matthew,” 253). Boxall (Discovering Matthew, 82) suggests that “[a] more subtle solution might be to regard them as accused of sexual indiscretion, and therefore relating them to Mary, suspected wrongly in Matthew’s view of adultery due to her virginal conception (1.18, 20).” Levine (“Matthew,” 253), for her part, proposes that “[t]he genealogy is best interpreted as presenting examples of ‘higher righteousness,’” a “lesson” which these women [and Uriah, for his part] effectively “teach” to those men in power over them.
129 Saunders, Preaching, 3. Cf. Albright/Mann (Matthew, 5–6), who identify these women as “forerunners of Mary,” and Witherington (Matthew, 41), who notes that these women “provide precedents by which the Evangelist can defend within an honor and shame culture what God did in regard to Mary and the virginal conception.”
is Mary. The previous aberrations prepare one for the holy aberration of the virginal conception and point to the mysterious workings of God in salvation history. 130
And such is Matthew’s “upper-level” portrait of “the wife of Uriah” and his rhetorical vindication of this powerless woman vis-à-vis the empire of her day. For Mary herself, the evidence is likewise compelling. Matthew spares no irony in vindicating the woman “of whom Jesus [is] born” (1:16b; cf. 2:1) on the “upper level” of his narrative. Central to this irony is the truth that lies “hidden” right on the surface of Matthew’s text. While Herod has massive imperial powers at his disposal vis-à-vis a silent, passive, and visibly powerless woman,131 it is in fact Mary who drives the entire narrative forward with her single and signal act, “namely, ‘bearing’ the son (: 1:21, 25) conceived in her womb by the Holy Spirit (1:18).”132 Mary’s single act is in fact “the crucial ‘Godevent’ in the story and consequently the single event around which all other actions revolve.”133 As Matthew makes clear with a fivefold repetition (2:11b, 13c//14, 20//21), Mary herself is spatially central to the unfolding narrative, gathering all the other actors and actions into a centripetal orbit around herself and her child, as “the child and his mother” repeatedly create a focal point of attention and action within the narrative.134
Accordingly, all of Herod’s actions, regardless how cunning, bold, or brutal, are in fact nothing more than reactions to the single act of Mary in “bearing” her child. Nor is this all. Not only does Matthew reduce the massive power of empire to a merely “reactive” role vis-à-
130 Garland, Reading Matthew, 19. Dowsett (“Matthew,” 522), for her part, concludes that Matthew “is celebrating the thread of God’s grace in the Old Testament, a thread that is quite as much in evidence in the lives of women as in those of men. He is showing how God turns tragedy into triumph, even as he does with his Son.” Cf. the visual imagery of Long (Matthew, 11), who says, “Taking the stories together [i.e., those of the four women and that of Mary], we begin to see that God does not write history only in straight lines, but also with dashes, swirls, and loops. Jesus’ birth is yet another curved line of holy history, and Mary’s name appears in the genealogy marking another spot where the sacred river flows in ways that human design could never have anticipated.”
131 See the discussion above in section three of this study.
132 Weaver, Irony, 255.
133 Weaver, Irony, 255.
134 Cf. Luz (Matthew 1–7, 146), who notes with regard to 2:13–15, “The child and his mother are in the center.”
vis the single act of Mary. Matthew likewise demonstrates the ultimately fruitless character of these imperial reactions to Mary’s childbearing act at every turn of the narrative. Whenever imperial threat presents itself (or retreats), an “angel of the Lord” (2:13b, 19b) intervenes by way of “dream” (2:13b, 19b; cf. 2:12a, 22c) in order to ensure the safety of “the child and his mother” or to repatriate them (2:13c//14, 20//21; cf. 2:12b, 22d).
Accordingly, Herod, the demonstrably powerful face of empire in this narrative, shows himself to be ultimately powerless. Not only is he, without even knowing this, incapable of achieving his single and signal goal, namely to “destroy” the child (2:13d; cf. 2:20b). Just as crucially, Herod cannot save his own life and himself lies “dead” at the end of the narrative (2:15, 19a, 20b), while the target of his fury is alive and well in Nazareth of Galilee (2:21–23). By contrast, Mary, “a powerless ‘mother’ with an endangered ‘child,’ is in the ironic rhetoric of Matthew’s narrative one whose plight, in tandem with that of her child, stirs heaven and earth into urgent and extraordinary action”135 against the empire of the day. Such is Matthew’s “upper-level” vindication of Mary within his narrative rhetoric.
For the women of Bethlehem, however, the mothers of the toddlers and infants whom Herod ruthlessly “send[s] and kill[s]” (2:16), vindication does not come with angelic messages and sudden nighttime journeys out of harm’s way (2:13–15). For these mothers, who experience in real life the brutal massacre of their children at the hands of empire, vindication comes only beyond their lived experience and on the rhetorical level of Matthew’s text. This happens in threefold fashion.
First, Matthew, with a crucial textual omission in 2:17, makes it clear that Herod’s brutal act of slaughtering the children of Bethlehem stands completely apart from the will or intentions of God. Elsewhere throughout his narrative Matthew designates numerous events in the life of Jesus as ones that take place “in order that [the scriptures] might be fulfilled” (1:22; 2:15b, 23b; 4:14; 8:17a; 12:17; 13:35a; 21:4; 26:56a; emphasis mine). Here, however, Matthew omits the purpose clause “in order that,” noting only that through Herod’s act scripture “has been fulfilled” (1:17; emphasis mine).
135 Weaver, Irony, 256.
136 This crucial textual omission
136 Cf. 27:9, where Matthew likewise omits a purpose clause in speaking of the silver coins which Judas returns to the chief priests and elders.
Women and Empire in Matthew’s Narrative| 125
effectively separates Herod’s action from divine intentionality and leaves Herod himself with the sole responsibility for his heinous act.137 Matthew then makes striking intertextual allusions to Israel’s history, which, each in their own way, vindicate the grieving mothers of Bethlehem. On the surface of the text Matthew highlights the importance of these grieving mothers, associating them by name with their storied Jewish foremother, Rachel (2:18; cf. Jer 31:15) and integrating them in this way into their storied, if tragic, Jewish history of Babylonian exile. In so doing, Matthew:
[I]ronically invests the grief of these powerless women with powerful significance, as they assume the role of their ancestral mother “Rachel” (2:18), fulfill the words of their ancestral prophet Jeremiah (2:17; cf. Jer 31:15), and re-enact the tragic history of their ancestors.138
But the intertextual allusions here reach back even further into Jewish history and portray Herod like Herodias elsewhere in Matthew’s narrative (14:1–12)139 as a prominent biblical villain vis-à-vis his counterparts, the grieving mothers of Bethlehem. As Eugene Eung-Chun Park notes:
The massacre of infants by Herod would have instantly evoked in the mind of the Jewish Christian audience of Matthew a collective memory of the intended massacre of the Hebrew infants by Pharaoh in Exod 1:15–22. The slaughter by Pharaoh would have been regarded by the Jewish people as the paradigmatic case of victimization of innocent lives by an absolute ruler of a great empire through misuse of power.… The upshot is that both for
137 Cf. Pregeant (Matthew, 23), who notes, “Although the reader is supposed to accept the escape to Egypt and the settlement at Nazareth as fulfilling not only prophecy but also God’s intentions, this is apparently not the case with Herod’s murder of the male children in an attempt to exterminate his rival. The narrator apparently wants to say that this horrific act was anticipated by prophecy, but not that God caused it to happen (emphasis mine).” See also Boxall (Discovering Matthew, 88), Luz (Matthew 1–7, 147), and Saunders (Preaching, 16).
138 Weaver, Irony, 256. Cf. Keener (Gospel, 111), who notes that “Matthew chooses an ancient lament from one of the most sorrowful times of his people’s history.”
139 See the discussion of Herodias above in section two of this study.
the intended audience and for any real reader who has knowledge of the Hebrew scriptures, Herod is presented by Matthew as reenacting the role of the ruthless Pharaoh in abusing his absolute power to oppress innocent people.140
And if Matthew here portrays Herod as the villainous “Pharaoh” of ancient Jewish history, it is likewise clear, by extension, that Matthew portrays the grieving mothers of Bethlehem as a stand-in for the entire Hebrew community in Egypt (cf. Ex 1:15–22), or, in other words, the nascent nation of Israel itself. And with this rhetorical move Matthew effectively elevates the grieving mothers of Bethlehem to a historical significance far beyond that of nameless village women. And, by the same token, Matthew effectively designates their character by contrast to that of Herod, the biblical “Pharaoh” figure as that of God’s faithful people standing over against the evil and recalcitrant powers of empire, who counter God’s designs.
Finally, Matthew’s account of the children of Bethlehem and their death at the hands of empire, points forward inexorably within Matthew’s own narrative to the death of Jesus himself, likewise at the hands of empire.141 The “child” of Matthew 2:13–23, the one whom heaven and earth once spared no efforts to rescue from a brutal death at the hands of Herod’s henchmen, ultimately faces the worst that empire can inflict, namely, death by crucifixion on a Roman cross (20:19a; 26:1–2 ; 27:22, 23, 26, 35). Jesus thus joins his erstwhile compatriots, the tiny children of Bethlehem, in suffering death at the hands of empire. And within Matthew’s story, Jesus’ death itself grants crucial narrative significance to these tiny children, whose own death happens precisely on Jesus’ account and both precedes and prefigures his own.142 Accordingly, and in tandem with their children, Matthew
140 Park, “Rachel’s Cry,” 479.
141 Thus Doane (“Rachel Weeping,” 13), who notes that Jesus “died in the same way as the children of Bethlehem: murder at the hands of the politico-religious authorities of Jerusalem.”
142 Contra Luz (Matthew 1–7, 147), who notes that “Matthew does not raise the question of theodicy in view of the suffering of the innocent children. The evangelist is concerned with the struggle between God and the enemy of Jesus, Herod; the innocent children appear so to speak only on the reverse side of this conflict. It does not disturb Matthew that God saves his Son at the expense of innocent children (emphasis mine).”
effectively elevates the mothers of Bethlehem once again to a significance far beyond that of nameless village women. These mothers in fact serve as narrative pointers to Mary herself and, most crucially, to Mary’s “generative” role within salvation history: “She will bear a son and … he will save his people from their sins” (1:21a/c, emphasis mine).
Nor is this the end of the matter. Here Jesus’ story and, by extension, that of the children of Bethlehem as well takes a radical turn, as God raises Jesus from the dead, just as Jesus has long predicted (28:6b; cf. 16:21e; 17:23b; 20:19b). Here, with God’s death-defying action against empire and on behalf of Jesus, lies Matthew’s ultimate and ironic subversion of the imperial violence that has taken the lives of the tiny children of Bethlehem as well.143 And here, by the same token, is the ultimate and ironic vindication for the mothers of Bethlehem, as Jesus’ resurrection by the power of God portends the future resurrection of their children by God’s power as well.144 Such is Matthew’s “upper-level” portrait of the grief-stricken mothers of Bethlehem.
For the pregnant and nursing mothers of Matthew’s eschatological discourse (24:15–22), those whose situation is so dire that Jesus pronounces a woe on them (24:19), their vindication by God likewise does not appear visibly within their present refugee existence of unprecedented “suffering” (24:21). What is visible and tangible for these women in the present moment is “flight” (24:20; cf. 24:16) to the inhospitable “mountains” (24:16), whether in challenging winter weather (24:20) or on the sabbath day, set aside by God for God’s people as a day of rest (24:20; cf. Ex 20:8–11//Deut 5:12–15).
But within the persistently ironic modus operandi of his narrative, Matthew establishes that these women, now facing the direst of circumstances, are, precisely in their misery, none other than members of “the elect” of God (24:22), whose status as such and whose suffering itself compels God into divine action to “shorten” (24:22c/d; cf. 24:22a) the days of cosmic distress and to “save” (24:22b) these “elect” women from their misery. And in the end, at “the [Parousia] of the Son of Man” (24:27b, DJW), when this eschatological figure comes “on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory” (24:30c; cf. 25:31a), these
143 Cf. Doane (“Rachel Weeping,” 13), who notes that “Jesus was executed by the imperial powers who had been pursuing him since birth. His resurrection subverted the power of the empire.”
144 Cf. Doane (“Rachel Weeping,” 13), who notes, but from a past-tense perspective, that “since God raised Jesus from the dead, symbolically the children can also be seen as having been raised with him [emphasis mine].”
vulnerable and suffering mothers and mothers-to-be will receive a powerful and glorious vindication through unmistakable divine fiat. With a “loud trumpet call” (24:31b) that rings throughout the cosmos, the Son of Man will “send out his [divine messengers]” (24:31a; DJW) and “gather” these suffering women among all the rest of God’s “elect” “from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other” (24:31c).
Accordingly, neither the empires of the world nor the brutal wars fought between “nations” (24:7a) and “kingdoms” (24:7b) will ever have ultimate power against the vulnerable and suffering mothers and mothers-to-be among God’s “elect,” those on whom Jesus has just pronounced the direst of eschatological “woes” (24:19). Instead, the “great suffering” these women now face (24:21) will in fact be “shortened” by divine initiative (24:22a/22b), while they themselves will be “gathered” by divine emissaries (24:31b), to join the “powerful” and “glorious” Son of Man (24:30c; cf. 25:31a) and to find eternal blessing in his “power” and “great glory” (cf. 25:31a, 34b/c, 46b). And such is the ultimate and divine vindication of these “elect” women, once suffering the ravages and brutality of imperial warfare.
For the unnamed woman of Bethany (26:6–13) who anoints Jesus’ head in a voiceless, wordless act of love and honor, precisely as he faces death at the hands of empire vindication comes both in her present world and far into the future, well beyond her physical life. In the present world of Matthew’s narrative and in sharp contrast to Jesus’ disciples who are “outraged” (26:8b, DJW) and consider the woman’s action as a “waste” (26:8c) Jesus himself commends the woman for her action. And he designates her act as a “good deed” (26:10c), the sort of action to which Jesus pointedly calls his disciples themselves (5:16b; cf. 5:1b-2).145
By contrast, Jesus shames his disciples publicly by verbally challenging their negative assessment of the woman’s act, arguably within her hearing: “Why do you trouble the woman?” (26:10b). And Jesus no doubt shocks his disciples likewise into total bewilderment by commending as “good” what they view as “wasteful,” above all vis-à-vis
145 Thus Keener (Gospel, 617), who notes, “Although disciples are supposed to let their ‘good works’ shine (5:16), Jesus commends only this woman for a ‘good work’ (26:10).” Cf. Long (Matthew, 292): “Jesus means that her deed was a ‘good work,’ a proclamation of the kingdom, the kind of shining light that he speaks about in the Sermon on the Mount (see Matt. 5:14–16).”
Jesus’ own recently stated and clearly noted concerns for the poor and needy (26:9; cf. 25:31–46).146
Further, Jesus interprets the woman’s “good deed” (26:10c) as one which “prepares [him] for burial” (26:12b) and, by the same token, associates the woman herself, by contrast, with the machinations of empire. Here Jesus honors the woman for this “symbolic prophetic” action on his behalf in advance of his death, an act that “previews what will happen to Jesus.”147 And, by implicit contrast to the woman, Jesus once again shames his disciples for their failure to recognize the true significance of her act, namely, “preparing” him for his upcoming burial, a burial fraught with imperial significance since it follows Jesus’ death at the hands of empire (16:21; 17:22–23; 20:17–19; 26:1–2).
Accordingly, this woman alone in contrast to Jesus’ disciples and regardless of whether she acts knowingly or unknowingly has taken the one action available to her and, by the same token, the one action crucial to the moment, vis-à-vis empire and its impending violence. She has, in her own traditional female fashion, “prepared” Jesus in advance for his empire-associated “burial.”148 Scholars differ on what she understands about this act. From Long’s perspective, “She, alone at this point, has grasped what God is doing in the world and has acted accordingly, and her anointing of Jesus was a luminescent sermon-in-action, a proclamation of the saving power of Jesus’ death (emphasis mine).”149 And Carter, for his part, notes, “What [the woman] has done is recognize the way of suffering and death as inevitable for those who resist the empire’s ideology, methods, and structures (emphasis mine).” From Witherington’s perspective, however, “[T]he woman in effect unwittingly performs an act that amounts to a proleptic memorial to Jesus (emphasis mine).”150
Either way, this unnamed woman, with no visible tokens of power within her grasp, counters the violence of empire in loving fashion, with her “alabaster jar of very costly ointment” (26:7a), over against the vociferous complaints of Jesus’ disciples (26:8–9) and in stark
146 But Jesus does not, in fact, denigrate or dismiss the disciples’ stated concern for the poor. To the contrary, he extends this concern into an ever-ongoing future, making them “always” accountable for the needs of the poor (26:11a).
147 Witherington, Matthew, 477.
148 Cf. Luz, Matthew 21–28, 338; Hare, Matthew, 293.
149 Long, Matthew, 292, who accordingly concludes that the woman “already discerns that it is by his death that Jesus is truly ‘Messiah’ (which means ‘anointed’ . . . (emphasis mine).”
150 Witherington, Matthew, 477.
contrast to their own wildly swinging swords (26:47–51) and terrified denials (26:69–75) that lie just a few short hours away.151 Jesus, for his part, vindicates her actions, even as he shames his own disciples publicly in her presence. As a result, this woman who has neither voice nor words within Matthew’s narrative receives the highest of verbal commendations from Jesus for her “good deed” vis-à-vis the empire-enacted violence to come. And she finds both “unconditional approval” and “emphatic approval” from Jesus, precisely where Jesus’ own disciples find (or will find) only shame, rebuke, and bitter tears (26:10–12; cf. 26:52–54, 75).152
But this is not all. Jesus likewise announces to his disciples (26:13), “Truly I tell you, wherever this good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.” Here Jesus makes a prediction unique within Matthew’s narrative, bestowing an honor which comes to no one else within Jesus’ entourage of followers. This woman whose ointment is the only means she has to respond to the empire which she cannot hinder and the imperial crucifixion which she cannot prevent will receive ongoing “remembrance” throughout the whole world and throughout all of time for her humble and powerless act of honoring Jesus as he faces death at the hands of empire.
What is more, her act will become a piece of the “good news” itself (26:13), namely, the “good news of the kingdom” which was, first and foremost, Jesus’ own Galilean agenda (4:23; 9:35; cf. 11:5) throughout his public ministry.153 Then, by worldwide extension (24:14; 26:13; cf. 28:19a), “this good news [of the kingdom]” (24:14; 26:13; cf. 10:7), including the story of the woman and her act of anointing, becomes the ongoing agenda of Jesus’ disciples and all who come after them into a future far beyond the present life of this woman and all the way to “the end” (24:14).154
151 See the discussion above concerning the disciples and their responses to the impending death of Jesus.
152 Luz, Matthew 21–28, 334
153 Consult a concordance for Jesus’ extensive references to “kingdom of heaven” (or occasionally “kingdom of God”) throughout his public proclamation and his private teaching within Matthew’s narrative.
154 Note here Luz’s crucial clarification concerning 26:13 (Matthew 21–28, 338), “However, ‘this’ gospel cannot refer to the proclamation of Jesus; it must mean a report about Jesus.” And in light of Jesus’ reference to “and what she did,” Luz concludes (ibid.), “This gospel could suggest that the reference is not to the church’s proclamation in general, but to a particular proclamation namely ‘this’ one. What is meant? It is not inconceivable that it refers to the passion narrative. Thus for Matthew the story of the suffering of Jesus is part of the gospel.”
And even as Jesus, through dialogue with his disciples, honors this unnamed woman for her “good deed” and promises her ongoing and worldwide “remembrance” for her act, Matthew himself vindicates this woman through his broader narrative rhetoric. Not only does Matthew highlight the contrast between this unnamed woman and the disciples of Jesus collectively by means of his dialogue with them. He likewise locates this story narratively in a place which highlights the contrast between this unnamed woman and one specific disciple, Judas Iscariot, pointedly named (26:14) and strategically identified as “one of the twelve [disciples]” (26:14, 47; cf. 10:1, 2, 5; 11:1; 19:28; 20:17; 26:20).
Specifically, Matthew inserts the woman’s story (26:6–13) narratively into the center of the political conspiracy concerning Jesus’ death (26:3–5 , 14–16).155 This conspiracy, initiated by “the chief priests and elders of the people” (26:3), culminates precisely as Judas Iscariot, “one of the twelve” (26:14), offers his assistance in “handing [Jesus] over” to them (26:14–15a, DJW), receives thirty pieces of silver as his pay (26:15b), and sets to work at his task (26:16). The contrast which Matthew draws here serves, just like the words of Jesus to his disciples, to honor the woman and to place corresponding shame on Judas. As Hare notes:
The contrast [with Jesus’ disciples] is even sharper between the woman, who cannot qualify as a member of the Twelve, because of her gender, and Judas, whose treachery is underscored by the note “one of the Twelve” (v. 14). She lavishes her money on a gift for her Master; he bargains away his teacher for a paltry thirty pieces of silver.156
But perhaps the single most evocative element of Matthew’s narrative rhetoric here, vis-à-vis the woman who anoints Jesus’ head, lies in the act of anointing itself and the wider cultural significance of this act. From Matthew’s telling of the story, the woman may or may not understand the full significance of what she does to Jesus. And, for his
155 Luz, (Matthew 21–28, 329), who observes this structural feature of Matthew’s narrative, seems curiously unfocused on its significance, even as he highlights the “contrast” which Matthew thus creates: “Between these two scenes appears, with no connection to its context, the story of the anointing by the woman of Bethany (26:6–13). It has the effect of slowing the action and at the same time serves as a contrast The woman appears as a contrast to the disciples, who will abandon Jesus (emphasis mine).”
156 Hare, Matthew, 294. Cf. Keener, Gospel, 168.
part, Jesus associates her action strictly with his burial (26:12b). But Matthew, through his narrative rhetoric, invites or at very least allows the reader to consider that this unnamed woman in fact, and ironically, assumes the most significant of male roles within the Jewish religious world, namely that of the prophet or priest who coronates a king by anointing his head with oil. 157 As Carter notes, “[The woman’s] anointing of Jesus shows him to be God’s king (cf. 2:2; 27:11, 29, 37, 42), who represents God’s empire, which is being established and anticipated in his ministry (4:17; 12:28; 24:27–31).” 158
And even as scholars do not agree uniformly on the “royal” significance of the woman’s act,159 Saunders concludes, “This is a lavish and multivalent symbolic action, which should not be reduced to any single meaning….The anointing of Jesus signifies both who he is and what he will accomplish through his death.”160 And Long, for his part, acclaims this woman as “in her own way, the pioneer preacher” vis-àvis whom “all the preachers of the gospel who follow her will celebrate her memory by telling her story.”161 Such is the ultimate and ironic gift of the unnamed woman of Bethany, voiceless and wordless as she may be. And such is Matthew’s ultimate and ironic vindication of this woman and her act in anointing Jesus.
As for the women at the crucifixion (27:55–56), the burial scene
157 Thus Witherington (Matthew, 477), who notes, “The Gospel writer may see this act by the woman as an example of a woman playing a prophetic or priestly role, for prophets or priests performed royal anointings.” Cf. Levine’s conclusion (“Matthew,” 261) that “the woman is cast here in the untraditional position of priest and/or prophet.”
158 Carter, Margins, 502. Cf. Long (Matthew, 292), who identifies anointing in the Old Testament as “a sign of holiness (see Gen. 28:16–18), of the priesthood (see Exod. 29:7), and of royalty (1 Sam. 16:12–13; 1 Kings 1:39)” and suggests accordingly “that Jesus’ death is a holy death, a priestly death, and the death of the world’s true king.”
159 See the more tentative assessments of the woman’s act as a royal coronation reflected by Gardner (Matthew, 369) and Senior (Gospel, 53). And note the sharply negative assessment offered by Luz (Matthew 21–28), who observes (336) that Matthew does not use the vocabulary of “anointing” (άλείφω) but rather the vocabulary of “pouring out” (καταχέω) and notes (337) that “too much speaks against this view: the banquet scene, the word μύρον, the alabaster bottle that contained it, the reaction of the disciples, who in that case would have completely missed the point. As attractive as the idea itself might be, at the very least the present narrative in no way suggests that the unknown woman anointed Jesus as the messianic king.”
160 Saunders, Preaching, 265.
161 Long, Matthew, 292.
and Empire
Narrative| 133 (27:57–61), and the empty tomb (28:1–11a), Matthew reserves for them arguably the most obvious and the most ironic of vindications, on multiple levels of his story, vis-à-vis the powers of empire. To begin with, Matthew identifies the women, when they first show up on the scene, as those who have “followed” Jesus all the way from Galilee and are “serving” him as they do so (27:55). And with this twofold designation, Matthew has, whether unwittingly or intentionally, associated these women with crucial acts which constitute (or should constitute) “discipleship” for his male entourage of twelve (άκολουθέω: 4:20, 22; 8:22, 23; 9:9b/c; 10:38; 16:24; 19:21, 27, 28; 26:58; cf. 8:19; διακονέω: 20:28 of Jesus himself; cf. 25:44 of the “goats” on the left hand, who fail to do this).162 Accordingly, Carter designates these women as “clearly disciples” for their “following” and their “serving.”163 And for these acts characteristic of discipleship, Matthew honors these women and vindicates their “following” and their “serving,” even as he portrays them as powerless vis-à-vis the Roman empire and the Roman military forces who have just crucified Jesus. As Keener notes:
In that culture women were relegated to a marginal role in discipleship at best and not permitted to be disciples of rabbis…; but these women had followed Jesus as disciples in whatever ways they could…, even ways that would have appeared scandalous in that culture.… Their “ministry” to Jesus’ needs (27:55) probably largely followed the roles assigned their gender and social rank in their culture (8:15), but this narrative evaluates and bestows honor on the basis of their courage and faithfulness rather than their social prominence.164
162 Note Peter’s mother-in-law as well (8:14–15), who likewise “serves” Jesus (8:15c) earlier in Matthew’s narrative.
163 Carter, Margins, 538. As Carter here notes, “They have followed Jesus, the verb which from the outset (see 4:20) signifies attachment and obedience to Jesus in response to his disruptive call. Moreover, they are said to imitate his central orientation (20:25–28). They serve him over a sustained period of time and distance in travel (from Galilee).” Cf. Luz, Matthew 21–28, 574; Witherington, Matthew, 524.
164 Keener, Gospel, 689. Cf. Carter (Margins, 538), who goes even further than Keener in his description of the “service” which these women offer to Jesus: “Their service is not only a matter of providing food and/or hospitality, though that may well be an important dimension (cf. Peter’s mother-in-law in 8:15) The term is all-embracing for Jesus’ ministry. Likewise for the women. Whatever he does by way of this service, they do also: proclamation, works of power, suffering, and so on (cf. 10:7–8, 24–25; 11:2–5).”
Accordingly, Matthew depicts these socially, politically, and militarily powerless women who “follow” Jesus to Jerusalem and “serve” him along the way as non-classified disciples, who in fact stand as counterparts to Jesus’ chosen twelve, precisely as these two groups, in contrasting fashion, face and respond to the brutal powers of empire employed against Jesus. As such non-classified female followers of Jesus, they put Jesus’ cohort of twelve male disciples to shame in crucial and ironic fashion. And they serve, by contrast, as a positive “model” not only for Jesus’ twelve male disciples, but in fact for all disciples to come, whether male or female.165
Most obvious on the narrative level, these women are physically present with Jesus and emotionally supportive to Jesus, precisely when and where their male counterparts are not.166 Jesus’ disciples individually or as a group have already “handed [Jesus] over” (παραδίδωμι: 26:47–50; cf. 10:4b; 17:22b; 20:18b; 26:15a, 21, 23, 24, 25; 27:3a, 4, DJW), been “scandalized” by Jesus (σκανδαλίζομαι: 26:31a, 33a/b, DJW), “denied” their relationship to Jesus (26:34, 35a, 70, 72, 75; cf. 74), “deserted” Jesus (26:56b), “and “fled” from the scene altogether (26:56b) by the time the women show up at the cross (27:55–56) and the tomb (27:61; 28:1).
As Boxall observes, “Only at the climax of the story, with Jesus’ male disciples having deserted him, do the faithful women come out of the shadows. ”167 And Luz, for his part, draws real-world conclusions, whether firstcentury or present day, from Matthew’s contrasting portrayals of Jesus’ male disciples and the women at the cross and the tomb: “For many readers for whom the failure of the disciples during Jesus’ passion people with whom they actually should have been able to identify was painful, the mention of the women will have been good news.”168
Accordingly, Matthew portrays these non-classified female disciples as those who respond appropriately in distinct contrast to their
165 Thus Keener (Gospel, 700), who notes, “But … as female examples could provoke both women and men, the women in Matthew’s narrative function as a model for disciples, male or female.” Cf. Boxall, Discovering Matthew, 169.
166 Cf. Boxall, Discovering Matthew, 159; Carter, Margins, 538; Luz, Matthew 21–28, 337, 572.
167 Boxall, Discovering Matthew, 57. Cf. Luz (Matthew 21–28, 337), who notes that the “contrast between the disciples and the women … is that [the women] stand by Jesus precisely in his suffering.” And Witherington (Matthew, 524), for his part, concludes “that the three named women present the alternative to the three named men, the inner circle, for they are faithful to the last.”
168 Luz, Matthew 21–28, 572.
male counterparts vis-à-vis empire and its trademark violence, here enacted in and through the crucifixion of Jesus. While they, no more than Jesus’ male cohort of twelve, can halt or even hinder the deadly violence of empire, they nevertheless demonstrate their faithfulness to Jesus and, by the same token, their defiance of empire precisely through their presence and their persistence, however powerless, at the cross and the tomb.169
But this is only the beginning of Matthew’s rhetorical vindication of these women who have “followed” Jesus from Galilee and “served” him along the way. When these women show up on the first day of the week “to observe the tomb” (28:1b, DJW), Matthew sets them up narratively not merely against Jesus’ Jewish cohort of twelve male disciples (cf. 28:7, 10), who even as privileged males within their own Jewish patriarchal society are subject, just like Jewish women, to imperial occupation and domination. Instead, Matthew likewise sets these women up as the direct narrative counterparts to the very forces of empire itself, namely, the Roman soldiers (28:12; cf. 27:65, 66; 28:4, 11) standing guard at the tomb of Jesus, the latest victim of their imperial violence. And the narrative contrasts here could hardly be sharper or more ironic.
First, Matthew highlights the “fear” factor within this account and the contrasting experiences of the Roman soldiers and the women in this regard. On the one hand, all of the human characters within the story male or female, Roman or Jewish are terrified by the unanticipated arrival (28:2a), the non-earthly appearance (28:3a), and the heavenly clothing (28:3b) of the “angel of the Lord,” who “descends” onto the scene “from heaven” (28:2b) in a “great earthshaking event” (28:2a, DJW). “Fear” is palpable for both the soldiers (28:4a) and the women (28:5b). But their respective responses to this fear stand in stark contrast to each other.
For their part, the Roman soldiers are profoundly “shaken” (28:4a, DJW) by the appearance of this divine emissary (28:3a) and the “great earthshaking event” that accompanies his arrival at the tomb. And in their fear, these Roman soldiers themselves the very tip of the Roman spear which
169 Contra Luz (Matthew 21–28, 575), who concludes that the “brief reference” to the women at the cross “does not particularly emphasize” their presence vis-à-vis the absence of the male disciples, the very mention of the women ipso facto reminds Matthew’s readers that Jesus’ male followers are, by contrast, long gone (26:56b; 27:5b) and nowhere to be seen.
has conquered the world, created an empire, and now crucified Jesus “become like dead men” (28:4b), losing all consciousness and, within Matthew’s persistently ironic rhetoric, resembling the very corpse that they once imagined that they were guarding.170 And Luz notes:
For the guards…the external convulsion of the earthquake (σεισμός) is continued in their internal convulsion (έσείσθησαν). They fall to the ground and become “as dead men.” Thus for them the appearance of the angel becomes a death experience. Although they have seen the angel, they are aware of nothing of what is actually happening of the message of the resurrection of Jesus.171
For the women, to the contrary, the appearance of the “angel of the Lord” and the “great earthshaking event” at the tomb become a life-giving experience on multiple fronts.172 To begin with, these women in sharp contrast to the Roman soldiers keep their eyes and their ears open in spite of their fear, so that they not only see the divine emissary and witness the “great earthshaking event” as do the Roman soldiers (28:2–3; cf. 28:4) 173 but also hear the angel’s words that address them directly and respond to their fear: “Do not be afraid” (28:5b).174 Accordingly, these otherwise powerless and terrified Jewish women, face to face with God’s own messenger, stand on their feet, alive, alert, and relieved of paralyzing fear,175 even as their otherwise
170 Cf. Long (Matthew, 322), who observes that “Matthew cannot resist a small joke at [the guards’] expense…. They are on cemetery detail, of course, to guard a dead man who was supposed to stay that way, but when their charge turns out to have become suddenly very much alive, it is they who become candidates for the grave.”
171 Luz, Matthew 21–28, 596.
172 Note Luz’s observation (Matthew 21–28, 596), “Thus the resurrection of Jesus, although itself invisible and indescribable, leads people to experiences of God that are ambivalent in their effects. For the guards they are deadly; for the women they become, through the angel’s word, a source of joy.”
173 Cf. Luz (Matthew 21–28, 589), who notes: “With the sealed tomb and with the intervention of the angel of which not only the women but also the unbelieving guards are witnesses, the resurrection comes close to being an unambiguous, unquestionable fact that no believer can deny only a liar who knows better.”
174 Cf. Luz, Matthew 21–28, 596.
175 Note Luz’s observation on 28:8a (Matthew 21–28, 598): “The angel has not been able to overcome their fear completely. Their fear is mixed with joy, however, and this joy is great.”
powerful counterparts, the Roman soldiers, lie prostrate on the ground in a fear-induced dead faint.176
But not only are the women themselves alive, as they witness this divine emissary and listen to his words. Even more significantly, Jesus is alive. The angel first demonstrates this reality by “rolling back the stone” (28:2c) and “sitting on it” (28:2d), a pointed act of divine defiance, which first removes and then co-opts the elaborate “security” measures (27:64, 65, 66) set in place by the Jewish authorities (27:62) and reveals that the tomb is empty (cf. 28:6c). The angel then proclaims Jesus’ resurrection, verbally and triumphantly, to the women (28:5b–6): “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay.” Accordingly, the “seismic” event that deals a death-like blow to the Roman soldiers proclaims Resurrection life for Jesus, who “has been raised” from death by the power of God177 and in the very face of the empire that crucified him.
The implications of this scene are both monumental and profoundly ironic, both for the women and for the powers of empire, embodied by the Roman soldiers now lying on the ground “like dead men.” Empire has definitively met its match and, as the “angel of the Lord” first demonstrates and then proclaims, has publicly and dramatically lost its battle with the power of God. In Carter’s blunt words, “God out-empires the empire.”178 And, within Matthew’s persistently ironic storytelling, it is none other than the women at the tomb powerless as they are not merely vis-à-vis ordinary men in their own patriarchal world but far more so vis-à-vis the military forces of empire itself who both see and hear the “angel of the Lord” and witness, as Carter puts it, “God’s victory over Rome.”179
But there is yet more vindication for these powerless women, all of it ironic, both at the now-empty tomb and on the road beyond. The first of these ironies brings the focus back again to the eleven remaining
176 Cf. Carter’s words (Margins, 545), “In this place of resurrection, it is not Jesus but the empire’s guards who are like dead men. God’s power renders the empire and its fighting machine lifeless.”
177 The angel’s passive verb, “has been raised,” is arguably the most potent of all divine passives within the New Testament, since it points to God as the undisputed actor in the foundational “good news” which both underlies and gives rise to the New Testament writings as a collective whole.
178 Carter, Margins, 545.
179 Carter, Margins, 545.
disciples of Jesus (cf. 27:5b). Because these disciples are notably absent from the tomb (28:1; cf. 26:56b, 75c), they do not witness the “angel of the Lord” and the “great earthshaking event.” So, they know nothing of the resurrection of Jesus. Accordingly, contrary to Jesus’ own prophetic predictions before his death (cf. 24:14; 26:13), these disciples have neither “good news” to “proclaim” nor the energy or impetus for “worldwide” outreach. They have only the exhaustion of their “flight” from the forces of empire (26:56b) and the “bitter tears” from their terrified perfidy in the courtyards of power (26:75c).
From Matthew’s storytelling perspective, this is an intolerable situation, one that, if left untended, will lead to an unthinkable narrative conclusion. The entire trajectory of Matthew’s narrative demands the reappearance of Jesus’ disciples (cf. 4:18–19; 22:1–10; 24:14; 26:13). These are the ones whom Jesus has “called” to “follow” him (4:21; 9:9; cf. 4:19–20) and to take up his own mission on behalf of the kingdom of heaven (10:1, 7; cf. 4:23//9:35//11:1) in a world that will ultimately reach far beyond the Jewish populace of Galilee (24:14; 26:13). And these disciples, who once “left everything” and followed [Jesus]” on the road to Jerusalem (19:27), have now “deserted” Jesus and “fled” in the face of empire and its brutal violence (26:56b). They have yet to learn that Jesus “has been raised” by God (28:6b), in an act which reverses the death sentences passed by the empire and its collaborators (27:26c; cf. 26:66b; 27:1) and breaks down the empire’s own “security” measures put in place at Jesus’ tomb.
And the only ones who can communicate this message to Jesus’ eleven dispirited disciples are the women. They alone know the full story. They have “observed” (27:55, DJW) Jesus’ crucifixion and death. They “were there, sitting opposite the tomb” (27:61), when Joseph of Arimathea buried Jesus’ body (27:57–60). They have now seen the “angel of the Lord” and witnessed the “great earthshaking event” that has happened at the tomb (28:1, DJW; cf. 28:2–3). They have heard the words of the angel proclaiming Jesus’ resurrection (28:5–6). They will shortly see the Risen Jesus himself (28:9–10). And through all of this, they have not flinched or fled in the face of empire; instead, they have stood their ground at the tomb, eyes and ears wide open, and have seen the forces of empire collapse “like dead men” (28:4b) vis-à-vis the power of God.
So, these women are the only ones who know fully and accurately what has happened at the tomb. As Witherington observes, “The importance of these women can hardly be overestimated, as they turned out
to be the prime witnesses of what was to become the heart of the Christian creed the death, burial, empty tomb, and resurrection of Jesus.”180 And so it is that the “angel of the Lord” commissions these women with an all-crucial task. Once they have seen the empty tomb (28:6c), they must “go quickly and tell his disciples” (28:7a) that Jesus “has been raised from the dead” (28:7b; cf. 28:6b) and that he “is going ahead of [them] to Galilee” (28:7c). And as they leave the tomb in haste to convey the angel’s message to the disciples (28:8), they meet the Risen Jesus himself (28: 9a). Jesus “greets” the women (28:9b), receives their “worship” (28:9d; cf. 28:9c). and then commissions them, just as the angel has done, to “go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee” (28:10c) and “there they will see me” (28:10d).
Accordingly, these women, and not their male counterparts, are, within Matthew’s narrative, the first missionaries within the earliest community of Jesus’ followers.181 In Long’s words, “These two women are now the human link between the great event of God and the community of faith. They are the first ones sent by God with the good news ‘He is risen!’; they are the first apostles of the risen Christ.”182 And Matthew attributes them this honor, because they have responded faithfully in the face of empire precisely where their male colleagues have not done so.
But there is still more irony here, and more vindication for the women. Not only are these women Jesus’ first missionaries, proclaiming his resurrection to his chosen twelve, the male disciples. They are also the first of Jesus’ followers to “worship” the Risen Jesus.183 When Jesus “meets” and “greets” them (28:9a/b). they respond by “coming to him” (28:9c), “taking hold of his feet” (28:9d, and “worshiping him” (28:9e). These are crucial acts of “veneration”184 that clearly reflect the honor
180 Witherington, Matthew, 524. Cf. Carter, Margins, 539; Hare, Matthew, 324–25, 326, 331.
181 Contra Luz (Matthew 21–28) who concludes (597) that the women’s mission is “only a limited mission to the disciples” and (607) that “the appearance of Jesus to the two women is hardly important in itself; it serves to prepare for the concluding scene in 28:16–20” the women’s mission is in fact “indispensable to the narrative” (thus Pregeant, Matthew, 199), since without the women’s message to the male disciples, there can be no mountaintop scene in 28:16–17 and no worldwide commission for Jesus’ disciples (28:18–20).
182 Long, Matthew, 323.
183 Cf. Keener, Gospel 702–3; Pregeant, Matthew 193. 199; Witherington, Matthew, 528.
184 As Luz notes (Matthew 21–28, 607), “Holding the feet is, as obvious from the context, an act of veneration.… ‘Paying homage/worshiping’ is the behavior that is fitting and proper toward the risen Christ.”
accorded to royalty.185 As Witherington notes, “[Worship] is the normal gesture when one expresses submission and homage to a king. King Jesus then is treated as royalty here.”186
And with this act of worship, the women thus enact with their bodies their allegiance to the Risen Jesus in the very face of empire and its failed sentence of death (27:26c; cf. 26:66b; 27:1) and over against the allegiance claimed by “the emperor” himself (cf. 22:15–22). The women, as the first worshipers of the Risen Jesus, have therefore set forth a bold and politically potent model for Jesus’ eleven male disciples187 and for all disciples to come, whether male or female: Worship belongs to the Risen Jesus (whom God has “raised from the dead” [28:6b, 7b; cf. 16:21; 17:23; 20:19]) and not to the emperor (whose imperial forces lie on the ground, temporarily collapsed “like dead men” [28:4b]).
But there is one final irony that Matthew leaves with his readers regarding the women at the tomb and beyond, an irony that lives on into the present day of Matthew’s readers (“to this day”: 28:15c). The story of the women and the guards is ultimately and most importantly a story of “message vs. message” and “truth vs. falsehood.”188 Accordingly, these messages oppose each other, crucially and diametrically. For the women, it is the message that Jesus “has been raised from the dead” (28:7b) which they must, and in fact do, convey effectively to Jesus’ eleven disciples (28:11a; cf. 28:16). For the imperial guards who report back to the chief priests and “tell [them] everything that [has] happened” (28:11c) the message is that “[Jesus’] disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep” (28:13).
The rhetorical contrast between these messages is unmistakable.189 The falsehood of the message given to the guards finds strong confirmation not only in the message itself but also in the manner of its delivery
185 Cf. 2:1–12, where the “wise men from the East” (2:1) come to Jerusalem to find “the child who has been born the king of the Jews” (2:2a) and to “worship him” (2:2b; cf. 2:8d, 11c). See Keener, Gospel, 702–3.
186 Witherington, Matthew, 528.
187 Cf. 28:16–17, where the eleven disciples “see” Jesus on the mountain and “worship” him, even as they “doubt.”
188 Cf. Levine, “Matthew,” 262. On this mode of storytelling, see 2:1–23, which is, in similar rhetorical fashion, an account of “king vs. king,” namely “King Herod” (2:1b) and “the child who has been born king of the Jews” (2:2a).
189 As Keener notes (Gospel, 699), “Matthew lays these two reports, the true and the false, side by side, forcing his audience to declare their choice.”
to the guards. On the one hand, the guards would never have known that the disciples came and stole Jesus’ body, if in fact they were sleeping at the time. And on the other hand, there would be no need for the chief priests and the elders to hatch an elaborate plot and to bribe the soldiers richly (“[devise] a plan to give a large sum of money to the soldiers” (28:12), if they were simply instructing the soldiers to tell the truth. The falsehood given to the soldiers is, in fact, so dangerous for them to report that the Jewish authorities promise to “satisfy the governor” (28:14b) and to keep the guards themselves “free from worry” (28:14c, DJW), if the story of their inexcusable negligence on the job ever reaches the governor himself (28:14a).
In short, Matthew offers his readers every reason to believe that the message given to the guards is a false message. And the guards themselves are likewise clearly aware of this falsehood and the lifethreatening danger associated with its propagation. Nevertheless, the guards take the bribe (28:15a) and comply with the command (28:15b). As Long observes, the guards “leave the tomb…to become embroiled in a mission of lies.”190
And their lies spoken by male figures of imperial authority in an androcentric and hierarchical world are clearly effective.191 Matthew reports stepping outside the temporal confines of his narrative to do so that this false story is still circulating within the Jewish community of his own day (28:15c), some fifty years or more beyond the story that he recounts. Accordingly, the message of the guards namely, the big lie created by imperial collaborators and disseminated initially by the forces of empire itself still represents a potent and dangerous reality within Matthew’s own world. Imperial lies have power.
But within Matthew’s narrative, God’s power is far greater than that of empire. And the big lie created and disseminated by imperial collaborators and the forces of empire itself, all of them male (28:11–15) does not have the last word. In fact, Jesus “has been raised from the dead” (28:7b), just as the angel of the Lord has proclaimed to the women at the tomb (28:7b) and just as the Risen Jesus himself confirms, as he appears first to the women (28:8–10) and then to Jesus’ male disciples (28:16–20).
190 Long, Matthew, 324.
191 As Keener notes (Gospel, 699), “[T]he guards’ report that the disciples had stolen the body (28:11–15) might command much greater respect [than the message of the women].”
So, in this story of “message vs. message” and “truth vs. falsehood,” it is the women’s voice, even though unheard within Matthew’s narrative, which conveys the ultimate truth of Matthew’s Gospel, the news of Jesus’ resurrection (28:7b; cf. 28:10, 16–17). By the same token, it is the women’s voice which crucially undercuts the false message of the Roman guards in Jerusalem. Finally, it is the women’s voice which proclaims the ultimate failure of empire itself to achieve its signal imperial goals and to destroy its visible imperial threats. As Witherington notes, “The world order is being overturned, from the highest political power to the deepest cultural patterns, and it begins within the new community” and, in specific, among “these women, the ‘last’ become ‘first,’ who [are] entrusted with the resurrection message”192 and who thereby proclaim in effect the ultimate downfall of empire and its cosmic power over humankind. And such is Matthew’s vindication of the women present at Jesus’ cross and Jesus’ tomb.
Conclusion—Women and Empire: Assessing Matthew’s Narrative Rhetoric
To observe Matthew’s portraits of the women in his narrative who are identifiably associated with empire is to discover yet another thread of the fundamental irony which weaves its way through Matthew’s narrative.
193 This irony is visible, on the one hand, in Matthew’s depictions of the women of empire, women closely associated with the Romanaffiliated kings and governors of Matthew’s narrative and women who wield their own imperial power both by means of and vis-à-vis their male compatriots. This irony is likewise visible in Matthew’s depictions of the women subject to empire, powerless women whose lives, families, and networks of relationships are threatened, endangered, and at times even destroyed by the powers of empire. And Matthew’s narrative rhetoric vis-à-vis women and empire surprises his readers on all fronts. Arguably the most visible irony concerning women and their relationship to empire within Matthew’s narrative composed as it is within a fundamentally patriarchal world and by a Jewish scholar/“scribe” (13:52) who reflects just such a patriarchal world view is the prominent presence of women within scenes focused on
192 Witherington, Matthew, 524.
193 Thus, for example, Weaver, Irony; Inhee C. Berg, Irony in the Matthean Passion Narrative (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2014).
the use of imperial power. Women are prominent within the scenes of Jesus’ birth and the associated threat to the life of Jesus by the powers of empire. Women are prominent within the story of John the Baptist, a prophet who publicly challenges empire, and his ultimate demise at the command of imperial power. A singular and voiceless woman is prominent within a scene where Jesus points forward toward his upcoming death (at the hands of empire [20:17–19; cf. 16:21; 17:22–23]). And women are not merely present but ultimately prominent in the scenes of Jesus’ trial, crucifixion, burial, and resurrection.194 As Pregeant notes, without naming irony as a crucial factor, “Women have played unexpectedly important roles at several points in the narrative.… [T]hese passages constitute a significant undercurrent that resists the patriarchal framework of the narrative and cries out for recognition.”195
Further, women are not merely physically present within the crucial imperial scenes of Matthew’s narrative. Instead, these women themselves negotiate empire in active ways, whether for good or for ill, and put their own imprint on the imperial world within which they live. For the women of empire, the picture is clear on multiple fronts.
First, imperial women, even within the male-dominated world of Matthew’s first-century narrative, have genuine power to wield vis-àvis the geopolitics of the day. Even as they function via channels to engage their respective powers of empire, they themselves are crucial actors in the geopolitical world. Their actions have awesome potential vis-à-vis human lives. And their female power is sometimes greater than the male powers of empire itself.
Further, imperial women have ethical decisions to make vis-à-vis their use of power. They can take actions in line with human instincts and personal vendettas. Or they can take actions that accord with divine righteousness and those who live as righteous people. They can take initiatives designed to save human life or destroy it. They can do evil, or they can do good.
In addition, extenuating circumstances clearly do not relieve imperial women of responsibility for the words they speak or the actions
194 Cf. the reflections of Levine (“Matthew,” 262), who does not, however, focus on the motif of “empire”: “Just as women mediate both a man’s entry into this world by giving birth and, in many traditions, his exit by participating in funerary rites, women frame the life of Jesus: they are present in his genealogy and the story of his birth, and they are the primary witnesses to his death and resurrection.”
195 Pregeant, Matthew, 199–200.
they take. Neither age nor resulting vulnerability excuses even a daughter and a young girl for her words and her actions and their real-world consequences.
Ultimately, imperial women, just as the male powers of empire, from whom they derive their own female authority and of whom they make their demands, are accountable for their actions by the divine court of last appeal, that “court” associated with the values of the kingdom of heaven as set forth in Matthew’s narrative, “righteousness” central among them. And within Matthew’s quintessentially ironic modus operandi, the verdicts of this divine “court” turn the apparent realities of success and failure in the real-world upside down. Those imperial women who succeed with their evil efforts receive strong condemnation in the court of last appeal, while those who fail at their righteous efforts receive major approbation and may even be counted among Jesus’ non-classified female disciples.
For those powerless women of Matthew’s narrative who are identifiably subject to empire, the picture is equally clear. While they cannot protect themselves or others from the enormous and death-dealing violence of the forces of empire, Matthew persistently vindicates these women in multifold and deeply ironic fashion vis-à-vis their imperial overlords.
Matthew points backward within biblical history to associate these women with significant and positive biblical figures of the past the faithful Hebrew community in Egypt and Rachel, known as the mother of the Jewish people even as he portrays their imperial overlords of the present (Herod) as well-known biblical villains of the past (Pharoah). And Matthew points forward within his narrative to associate these women with Mary, the mother of Jesus, and to link these women and their children to Jesus himself, even as he alludes to imperial evil of the past (Pharoah and David) and vividly depicts the imperial evil of the present (Herod).
Matthew portrays these non-imperial women as those whose plight vis-à-vis empire moves God and/or God’s agents to take urgent action on their behalf and to “cut short” their time of “great suffering” (24:15–22). Matthew’s Jesus honors these women, over against his male disciples, as those who do “good deeds” in a moment fraught with imperial tension (26:10c), those who “prepare [Jesus] for burial” following his execution by the powers of empire (26:12), and those who will receive “worldwide” recognition for their faithful deeds visà-vis empire (cf. 26:13). Just as crucially, Matthew depicts these
powerless women as those who speak undeniable and life-giving truth to their hearers vis-à-vis the intentional falsehoods and long-perpetuated lies propagated by the powers of empire.
In the end Matthew’s portrayal of these powerless, non-imperial women subverts the powers of empire altogether in a profoundly ironic rhetorical gesture, as the women at the tomb discover the resurrection of Jesus on their feet and with full sight and hearing, even as the Roman guards at Jesus’ tomb lie prostrate in a dead faint. And such is Matthew’s vindication of the powerless, non-imperial women of his narrative who engage with the powers of empire.
Ultimately, as Matthew demonstrates persistently and vividly through his narrative rhetoric, women play a crucial role in engaging the (male) powers of empire, whether the women of empire themselves or the women subject to empire. But arguably the most profound irony vis-à-vis women and empire, within Matthew’s male-oriented and patriarchally grounded narrative, is that powerless women those who have no means to protect themselves or those they love from the massive brutality of imperial violence are the very people within Matthew’s narrative whose words and actions effectively mock, shame, and ultimately subvert the overwhelming male power of empire arrayed against them. Within the divine irony of Matthew’s narrative, the “last” have truly become “first” (21:16a//19:30b) and the “first” have become “last” (19:30a//21:16b).196 And this, as Matthew’s narrative rhetoric boldly proclaims, is the “God’s-eye” view of empire. Let all Matthew’s readers understand.
196 Cf. Witherington, Matthew, 524.
An Exegetical Charcuterie Board: My Journey with Inductive Bible Study
Suzanne Nicholson Professor of New Testament
Asbury University
suzanne.nicholson@asbury.edu
My first sense that the Bible plays an important part in the life of a Christian arose from watching my mom’s daily devotional practice when I was young. Every morning, she would pull out her Good News Bible, The Upper Room devotional, and her prayer list. She would read the Scripture passage associated with the daily reading and then spend time praying for friends and family. She modeled for me the practice of spending time with God.
Although I had been raised in church and spent time in Sunday School hearing the stories of God’s people in Scripture, when I was in high school, I reasoned that if I were a Christian, I should know more about what that means. It seemed only logical to read the Bible, so I opened the book to Genesis 1 and did my best to read a chapter a day. Some stories were very engaging, and some (like genealogies) were a struggle to finish. Yet even in the struggle I discovered fascinating principles embedded in the text. When Scripture described the construction of the Tabernacle (and later, the Temple) in tedious detail, I learned that the most precious materials were used for the Holy of Holies, which showed me the exquisite awe one experienced as one drew near to God. By the time I had made it through the Old Testament, the New Testament made much more sense to me. I could see how the OT sacrificial system, with its emphasis on atoning for sin, had been fulfilled in the death of Jesus. Terms like “the lamb of God” came into clearer focus.
When I went to college, I had no intent to study the Bible for a career. I was interested in journalism, and I assumed that newspaper reporting would lead me into a long and satisfying vocation.
I attended the University of Minnesota, but I realized that this secular school would challenge my faith commitment. I sought out Chris-
tian groups on campus and found a home in InterVarsity Christian Fellowship. The discussions that took place at our meetings helped me to sort out and clarify my Christian beliefs. It was here that I first heard leaders really dig into passages on women in leadership, and the conversations about historical and literary contexts made sense to me.
Through InterVarsity I also went on a summer mission trip to Moscow in 1991, when tensions in the Soviet Union were high. Our group returned home just three weeks before the coup attempt that brought tanks rumbling into Red Square, not far from the dormitory where we had been staying. The six-week mission trip helped me to see my own culture in a new light and made me more aware of God’s love and great provision. This deepening sense of the grace of God played a part in my turning to seminary just a few years later.
When I graduated from college, I started out as a newspaper reporter in a small town in southern Minnesota. Although I enjoyed my job, I didn’t feel completely fulfilled. As I thought about what was important to me, I realized that my faith topped the list. I took a job writing internal publications for a trade association in the Twin Cities so that I could attend Bethel Theological Seminary part-time. The first class I chose is often surprising to others: biblical Greek. I had been attending a large church where the pastor regularly explained Greek words as he preached. I was always fascinated by the nuance of meaning this brought to the text. This is why I jumped headfirst into biblical languages at seminary and loved it! As I began my classes, I felt a deep peace that confirmed my call to seminary.
As a result, I soon became a full-time student. Although the seminary was Baptist, I discovered John Wesley during my Christian theology classes. The more I read about Wesleyan theology, the more I became convinced that God was calling me to Methodism. During this time, I also met my future husband, Lee, who was the son of a Methodist pastor. Lee was committed to remaining United Methodist. Our problem, however, was that Bethel Seminary had just been removed from the UMC’s approved seminary list. We needed to transfer, and so we found ourselves at Asbury Theological Seminary, a school that Lee had always wanted to attend.
Although I had already completed many of my New Testament courses at Bethel, I was required to take an Inductive Bible Study course at Asbury. What a blessing this turned out to be! Like most of the students who took David Bauer’s Matthew course, I too found my
head exploding as Dr. Bauer explained the structure of the genealogy in Matthew 1. The beauty of the form, with its tripartite focus on key movements in Israelite history (Abraham to David, David to the exile, and the exile to the Messiah) transformed this boring ancient list into a stylized theological commentary on the fulfilled plan of God. Even small turns of phrases within the genealogy pointed to God’s unusual plan such as using women like Rahab and Ruth to fulfill the purposes of God. Let the one who has eyes to see, see!
I found the analysis of texts scintillating. Instead of describing what the text meant to me (which differed from reader to reader, a method that had always frustrated me), here was a more objective method of discovering meaning. I resonated with the idea that any author intends to communicate a particular meaning and does so in a way that is discernible to his or her audience in their immediate context. Our job as readers of an ancient text is not to create meaning, but to discern meaning. The text itself provides the clues to meaning; analysis of the text is key.
Yet I discovered that inductive biblical study was not only part science, but also part art. On the one hand, certain key words indicated clear structures contrasts, causations, and the like. One could scientifically pick apart the evidence of the text. On the other hand, some relationships were implied, and there is an art to feeling out the argument of the text. Yet these implications are always bounded by the text itself. With this method, you could not make the text say whatever you wanted it to say. The text speaks, and we must listen.
As I was learning the IBS method, I simultaneously was discovering a call to teaching. I had worked as an adjunct instructor at the college across the street; my journalism degree had allowed me to teach a couple of sections of Advanced English Composition. At the seminary I worked as a grader for my Philosophy of Religion professor, Dr. Jerry Walls. Both experiences led me to consider teaching as a career. I weighed my options and decided to pursue a degree in New Testament Studies at the University of Durham (now Durham University) in Durham, England. My husband and I packed up our belongings and took our 7-month-old son to Durham, where we lived for four years as I considered the implications of Paul’s oneGod language in 1 Cor 8:4–6, Gal 3:20, and Rom 3:30. Learning to look closely at the text during seminary helped me deeply analyze these texts as I pursued my PhD.
After four years in England, I received a job offer to teach New Testament at Malone University in Canton, Ohio. Lee and I again packed up the family (which now included our daughter, who was born during the second year of my doctoral studies) and moved back to the United States. It took another two and a half years to finish the PhD. as I juggled the demands of small children and a new teaching load.
As a new assistant professor, I had to figure out what to teach my students. Each semester I usually taught two sections of introduction to the New Testament, plus two sections of various upper-level courses. The challenge in introductory NT courses was to give a broad survey of the content of the New Testament to both those who had never cracked open a Bible as well as those who had grown up in the church and attended Christian schools. The latter group quickly learned they didn’t know Scripture as well as they thought they did. I confess I did not offer much in the way of IBS instruction in the intro classes in these early years. Biblical illiteracy has become so rampant even in churched students that the remedial task of simply understanding the basic story of Scripture and the importance of historical context became the primary goal.
In my upper-level courses, however, I had more time to dig into the biblical text. Whether teaching an entire semester on Romans or Acts or the Synoptic Gospels, I now had a greater opportunity to help students chew on the wording of the text and consider the ramifications. The difficulty, however, was that my department did not have one standard method of exegetical instruction for its Bible professors. As a result, I started each of my upper-level Bible classes with a few days of overview on how to identify structural relationships and consider their significance. The first assignment for my students was to write a book survey on the biblical book we were studying. They would have another two to three assignments during the term in which they would analyze specific passages.
I felt like I was offering my students an exegetical charcuterie board. Perhaps I watch too many cooking shows, but the metaphor seems apt. With a charcuterie board, the chef places a variety of bite sized meats, cheeses, appetizers, breads, and crackers on a wooden board for guests to sample. It provides a taste of different foods and allows the guest to explore dining possibilities. In an undergraduate context which does not require a single exegetical method to be taught across the board, I cannot assume that students who have taken other Bible classes are coming into my course prepared to use
the inductive method. The concise instruction I give on identifying structural relationships provides a sample of how to build a rich meal from the text. The tasting is intended to whet the exegetical appetite of those who plan to engage in a more rigorous study of Scripture in seminary and in their ministries.
After 16 years teaching at Malone, I made the move to Asbury University, where I have taught for three years. Like Malone, Asbury’s Christian Studies & Philosophy department does not require all Bible instructors to teach a particular exegetical approach to the text. But the move gave me the opportunity to reconsider how I teach my courses. My NT introduction courses, like those at Malone, include both non-churched and churched students. I now am more intentional in both my assignments and my instruction to introduce freshmen to the concepts of inductive biblical studies. For many of my students those who are not majoring in Bible, theology, or ministry this may be the only New Testament course they ever take. They may never be exposed to a more in-depth exploration of methods of interpreting the biblical text. But whether a student is an equine major, a media communications major, or a math major, I want to expose them to the delicacies of the exegetical charcuterie board. For each book of the New Testament we study, I place relevant texts on the PowerPoints and ask students, “What do you see in this passage?” I encourage them to find repeated language, contrasts, causal connections, and other structures, as well as to ask questions of the text. We consider together how the literary and historical contexts shed light on the author’s language. My hope is to awaken students’ curiosity about the text. When they begin to understand the message of the text better as a result of making detailed observations, they are more likely to continue this process in their own personal studies long after they finish the course.
One of the courses I have been privileged to teach to ministry majors at both universities is an introductory preaching course. I am unable to spend the entirety of the course teaching exegetical techniques, but we spend significant time on the topic. You simply can’t be a good preacher if you don’t interpret the text well. When students preach, I weigh their sermon grade more heavily on exegesis than on presentation (although both clearly are important for an effective sermon). In this course we also look closely at how to apply the text. Thus, evaluation and appropriation are key components. Students often struggle in
their sermons to give specific examples of how to appropriate the text into our current context. In our classroom conversations we help one another consider possible ways to do this effectively.
In my own preaching I have found that the inductive method helps me to mine the richness of the biblical passage. I spend extensive time in inductive study so that I can better understand the nuances of the text. The trick when preaching, of course, is to translate the hard academic work into lay language. If I start rambling about the interchange of comparison and contrast in the beginning of Luke’s gospel, I’m going to lose my audience! But if I describe how Luke intentionally shifts between the miracle of John the Baptist’s birth story and the miracle of Jesus’s birth story, I am inviting the audience to explore with me the ways in which Luke repeatedly points out the greater miracle of Jesus, even as both stories fulfill God’s plan from long ago.
Unfortunately, many preachers do not take the time to dig deeply into the biblical passage or to explain their discoveries to their congregations. Instead, they offer a surface-level description of the text that does not reveal the richness of the biblical message. Often pastors refer to Scripture only briefly and then give a topical sermon based on a single word in the passage. But this approach does not help our congregations to understand the depth and beauty of the message of the text. Worse, it models a disregard for Scripture, painting the passage as merely a springboard for the preacher’s own ideas. Rather, our job as preachers is to help people understand the Word of God and its context more fully. God has given us Scripture so that we can see how God has been faithful to Israel in the past, redeemed believers through Christ, and given the Spirit to the church to live faithfully until Christ’s return. The better that we understand and enter into this story, the more fully we will be empowered to worship the Triune God revealed in Scripture.
As I evaluate how to improve my use of inductive biblical studies in the undergraduate classroom, several challenges perennially appear. One of the most common is the need for students to lay aside their presuppositions and really look at the text. Too often in the observation stage students read into the passage what they already know from other books of the Bible. For example, when analyzing a passage in the Gospel of Mark, students import theology found in the Gospel of Matthew, not considering that Matthew was written after Mark and drew from Mark’s own theology (while at the same
time reshaping it). If we want to hear Mark’s voice, we need to look at Mark’s wording and not the wording of later authors.
Another common presupposition is the reading of Trinitarian theology into the passage. Rather than asking how the author describes each person of the Trinity, students tend to lump these ideas together in a manner that borders on modalism. It can be threatening to students to set aside their theological assumptions before looking at a text, but it is important to help students realize that later theological formulations arise from the text itself church theology was not created in a vacuum! We should not be afraid of what the text reveals. We need to allow the text to speak for itself. The way that John talks about Jesus or the Spirit will have different nuances than the way that Paul speaks about Jesus or the Spirit. But the beautiful diversity within Scripture cannot be seen as easily if we start our exploration by overlaying Trinitarian formulas upon the passage in question.
Presuppositions also can lead to the Mandela effect a term coined to describe the phenomenon of a large group of people “remembering” false information about an event. For example, most people remember the famous line from Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back as, “Luke, I am your father!” when the actual line is, “No, I am your father.” Similar mistakes occur when students learn inductive Bible study. Bible stories that students have always loved sometimes take a turn in a different direction when they look closely at the text. The story of Samson and Delilah, for example, presents Samson in a much more negative light than is often taught in church. Students come out of Sunday School excited about the strong hero Samson, but then they use IBS and look carefully at the text. They discover that the repetition of “see” and “eyes” at key points in Judges 13–16 emphasizes the destructive nature of Samson’s desires. By the end of the story, the instrumentation in 16:28 shows the purpose of blind Samson’s plea to God to destroy the Philistine building: it’s not to honor God, but for his own selfish reasons: “so that with this one act of revenge I may pay back the Philistines for my two eyes.” Even within the book of Judges as a whole, major sections start with this “sight” theme: “The Israelites again did what was evil in the sight of the Lord.” The recurring theme underscores the author’s argument that the Israelites need a king to show them the ways of the Lord. The final verse of the book confirms this: “In those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes” (Judges 21:25).
Another challenge for students lies in the time-consuming nature of the IBS method. When students have a heavy workload in other classes, and social-media culture has shortened their attention spans, it can be difficult to focus on a single passage for any length of time. One practice I use to help students see the benefit of such sustained investigation is group exegetical work. Before class begins, I write a passage on the whiteboard. Then I bring to class a variety of colored dry-erase markers. As students identify recurrences, I circle each related term in the same color, and then use a different color for the next recurrence identified. For other relationships, I underline key phrases and draw arrows to other connections later in the passage. By the time students have identified the majority of structures in the text, the board is filled with multicolored geometric patterns that highlight key connections. Not only have we discussed as a class the potential implications of these structures, but the visual array helps to convince students of the payoff from spending significant time analyzing a text.
Overall, the inductive Bible study method continues to strengthen and enliven my understanding of Scripture. Although my undergraduate teaching context does not allow me to serve a seven-course inductive Bible study meal, the exegetical charcuterie board allows me to offer my students a sampling of the delicacies of the method. My hope is that students who participate will acquire a craving for more.
Preparation
for Preaching: “Who is this King of Glory?”
Ruth Anne Reese Professor of New Testament Asbury Theological Seminary ruthanne.reese@asburyseminary.edu
Background
Let me begin by providing a little background to the sermon below. This sermon was written for and preached at Apostles Anglican Church on the fourth Sunday of Advent in December of 2019. As a liturgical church, Apostles makes use of a lectionary, and the four lectionary readings for the Sunday are listed below. The lectionary usually contains an Old Testament reading, a Psalm, a New Testament reading, and a Gospel reading. During special seasons such as Advent, Christmas, and Easter, among others, texts are deliberately chosen that are related to or interpret one another. For example, in the texts that are listed below, Matt 1:23 contains a quotation from Is 7:14. Such deliberate interweaving of the Old and New Testaments invites the preacher to contemplate the relationship between the texts as well as the message that might be communicated in light of that relationship. Although the other two lectionary texts for Advent 4 do not connect as directly to the Old and New Testament readings, they serve to bolster the unfolding identity of the King (Messiah) in the Gospel reading in particular. When I prepare a sermon, continual focused prayer along with close reading of the assigned texts and doing some research on those texts all work together towards the preparation of the sermon. In this particular case, I intended to preach on Psalm 24 with a focus on “The King of Glory.” But as I continued praying and reading and studying, the sermon took a different direction. When a sermon is prepared in a state of prayer, these unexpected turns may be the direction of the Holy Spirit assisting the preacher in grasping the message of the text and its proclamation for the church today. While it might be usual to think about how the Old Testament was quoted in the New Testament, that was not the main focus of the sermon. Instead, I began to
focus on the two main characters (Ahaz and Joseph) in these texts and to notice that there was a parallel between these texts. Both of the characters in these texts received a messenger and a message from God. I began to think about how the responses of these two characters differed from one another and what we might learn from those two different responses. In addition, I also wanted to understand more about what the messenger and message told us about God and about the kind of invitation God might make to people. Because of this focus on the characters in the narratives, the sermon came to focus more on the presence and arrival of Emmanuel and the invitation to participate in God’s unfolding plans while still mentioning Ps 24 and the King of Glory. The sermon, as you see it below, touches on all four of the lectionary texts while focusing on the two most closely related texts: Isaiah and Matthew. One of the joys of preaching a sermon like the one below is that it helps the church to understand the deep connection between the Old and New Testament. Both tell of the ways and purposes of God and both are sources from which to proclaim the good news about the Messiah, Jesus Christ.
Lectionary Texts for Advent 4: Isa 7:10–17; Ps 2:3; Matt 1:18–25; Rom 1:1–7
Opening Prayer
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Who is this King of Glory?
King Ahaz was under pressure. He was the ruler of a small tribal kingdom with Jerusalem as its capital. While, he might look back to the glory days of the united kingdom when his ancestors David and Solomon ruled over the whole of Israel and the land was at peace, his current troubles gave him little time to contemplate the success of his ancestors 200 years ago. Instead, his attention was given to the military pressure he was under from a coalition of surrounding kingdoms. To his north, the kingdom of Israel was paying tribute to the Assyrian Empire now under the capable rule of Tiglath-Pileser III who wielded a strong standing army. Already large chunks of the northern kingdom
of Israel had been annexed to the Assyrian Empire. Indeed, some of the people had been deported and forcibly relocated to other parts of that large Empire. Now, the Emperor of Assyria was on the march again, and he would be coming through Israel, Judah, Syria, and other neighboring tribal kingdoms to reassert his power and lay claim to tribute from those that looked to Assyria for protection. Ahaz can see the writing on the wall either pay tribute to Assyria and hopefully survive or join the rebellion and be destroyed. And then…two leaders of neighboring kingdoms come to him seeking a coalition to rebel against Assyria. When he refused to join, they attacked him and captured many people from his kingdom and defeated his army. It is at this point that he receives the prophetic word and sign from Isaiah. In this military context, he looks to the strong and mighty emperor of Assyria for help, and that great Emperor responds swiftly to destroy those threatening neighbors.
Now, we shouldn’t think that military pressure is separate from civil and religious realities. As a lesser king who has sought help from Assyria, Ahaz must pay tribute. How would Ahaz pay? He paid by liquidating the treasures of God’s temple (2 Kings 15:8). In addition, Ahaz constructed shrines to foreign gods throughout his kingdom. He reasoned that the gods of those who had defeated him were stronger than his own god. Therefore, the worship of those gods should be encouraged. Ahaz turned the whole kingdom of Judah towards the worship of foreign gods. And, as if that were not enough, he sacrificed his own sons to the fire of foreign gods (a practice sometimes attributed to the Assyrians and prohibited by the God of Israel).
This is the king that Isaiah meets at the beginning of chapter 7. He is a king who is living in fear shaking like a forest in a wind storm (Is 7:2) and he is busy doing the best he can in light of the situation by securing the water supply for his city (7:3). A city without water in the midst of a siege is a death trap. There, beside the conduit, Isaiah encourages Ahaz to stand firm in faith and warns him that his failure to do so would result in his destruction (Is 7:9). Then, Ahaz is offered a sign from the Lord as a means of encouraging and strengthening his faith. The sign is that a young woman will give birth to a son and name him Emmanuel and that before the baby is old enough to know good from evil, the two kings who are threatening Ahaz will be destroyed. Here, I want to point out two things: first, Ahaz was not particularly a person of faith (especially as described in the historical books of Kings and Chronicles), yet God speaks to him calling him to steady, calm faithfulness; second, God is willing to provide a sign accompanied by
a promise to this king. Here some have suggested that the baby that is born is Ahaz’s own son, perhaps Hezekiah, who will go on to be one of the righteous kings of Israel in contrast to his father.
God gave the sign and the promise, and God was faithful. The kings were destroyed as God promised, and Ahaz and the kingdom of Judah survived both the advances of other tribal groups and the machinations of the great empire of the day still, Ahaz did not change his ways. He continued to be a leader who encouraged idolatry (the worship of anything that is not God) and who plundered the place of God to secure the future of the kingdom. Chronicles describes Ahaz this way: “In the time of his distress he became yet more faithless to the LORD” (2 Chron 28:22) and concludes “[the gods he worshipped] were the ruin of him, and of all Israel” (2 Chron 28:23c).
In this passage from Isaiah we see that God speaks, God gives a sign and a promise, God fulfills his promise. God secures a future for Israel, for the throne and house of David even when a king like Ahaz sits on the throne. God secures a way forward, and we will see this in an even greater fulfillment of the sign he first gave to Ahaz.
We meet Ahaz again in Matt 1:9 where he is listed as one of the ancestors of Jesus. The purposes of God trace their way through the faithless and the faithful. God’s speech, God’s signs, God’s promises these are not solely dependent on the response of those to whom they are given.
In the first chapter of Matthew we meet another “son of David.” Indeed, Matthew opens his gospel with the name “Jesus Christ son of David son of Abraham” (Matt 1:1). Matthew’s reader is invited to meet Jesus, whose name means “savior,” and who is the chosen king, descended from David, the one who received God’s promise of an eternal throne. And, the reader is reminded that Jesus is a descendant of Abraham, the head of the first household that God chose and with whom he covenanted to bless the whole world. Now, Matthew begins his biography of Jesus by tracing his lineage from Abraham through David and the exile to Joseph. This son of David, Jesus, has come, and we hear the story of his miraculous birth. And that story in Matthew’s gospel is focused on Joseph, the only other person in Matthew’s gospel identified as a son of David.
The story of Jesus’ birth happened like this. His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph. In the first-century this meant that Mary and Joseph were already legally husband and wife, but they had not yet
consummated their marriage or exchanged their final vows. Betrothal could only be ended through divorce or the death of the man or the woman. The usual period for a betrothal was about 12 months. While Mary and Joseph were betrothed, Mary was found to be with child. We are specifically told that this child comes into being through the work of the Holy Spirit. Here we pause to remember that the Spirit is often God’s means of creating and doing new things in this world. Now, the Holy Spirit is at work in Mary to create and bring forth saving life, the life of the Son of God. Of course, Joseph finds out that Mary is pregnant, and he knows this isn’t his baby. So, he begins pondering what to do about the situation and comes to the conclusion that the right thing to do is to divorce her. However, I want you to note the kind of character that Joseph has. First, he is described as “righteous.” In other words, he was a man who tried to do what was fair and just and right in accordance with the laws that God had established for Israel. Second, he was not vengeful. It would have been within his rights to announce Mary’s moral failing to the community (and indeed in another time the punishment for adultery would have been stoning), but Joseph did not want to humiliate Mary or shame her and her family before the village full of people who would have known her from childhood. Instead, he determined to divorce her quietly. Third, Joseph was thoughtful. He pondered what to do about the situation and didn’t rush to action. In fact, after he had thought about these things, he went to sleep. That’s when he had a dream. In the dream an angel of the Lord showed up and spoke to him. The angel told him not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife. The angel tells him that the reason he does not need to be afraid is because the baby that Mary carries is from the Holy Spirit and she will bear a son. And, the angel goes on to tell him that Joseph will be the one to name the baby, and the name Joseph is to speak over this baby is Jesus a form of Joshua meaning Savior. What kind of Savior will this baby grow up to be? Not the great military leader fighting to secure the promised land of Israel but another kind of warrior a warrior who will save his people from their sins. And then Matthew tells us that all this took place to fulfill the word of the Lord in Isaiah, a virgin will conceive and bear a son and will call his name Emmanuel, which means God with us. And then notice the final piece about Joseph. He is a man who obeys the Lord. He got up from his sleep and he did what the angel commanded him to do. Instead of ending his betrothal with a divorce, he finalized his marriage. And Joseph abstained from consummating the marriage until after Mary had
given birth. Then, Joseph named the baby Jesus and in so doing assumed the position of Jesus’ legal father. This is the story of the miraculous birth of Jesus, but it is also the story of Joseph, a righteous, thoughtful man who listened to God and was willing to change the plans that he had made.
Now, I want to take a moment to compare and contrast Ahaz and Joseph. Ahaz is the ruler of Israel, and he is living with terror. In the midst of his dread, the Lord sends a messenger to Ahaz to encourage him to stand firm and to offer him a sign and promise to remind him that the Lord is with him and for him. Despite this message, Ahaz, according to the historical accounts, continues to be a leader who seeks his status and security not from God but from the great empire of his time. Similarly, Joseph is also in a difficult situation, under pressure. After all, what would people say about Mary if he divorced her? What would they say about the two of them…pregnant before the final vows? And when he was facing the most challenging situation of his life, God sent a messenger to him, an angel who came in a dream. This messenger gives Joseph the courage to trust that the child Mary bears is a work of the Holy Spirit, to take Mary as his wife, and to adopt Jesus as his son. This man of faith had the opportunity to live the fulfilment of prophecy in his own family because of his faithfulness. If he had continued on his own course, pursuing his own wisdom, the savior would still have been born, but Joseph would have missed the blessing of being the legal father of the Savior. He would have missed the opportunity to be the father of the one who delivers his people from their sins.
In both cases, God’s activity was faithful and sure. In both cases a baby was part of God’s saving activity. But we never see Ahaz changing course. Instead, the historical books describe Ahaz giving his sons over to foreign gods; meanwhile, in Matthew, God entrusts his only son to Joseph. It’s so interesting, when I stop to think about Joseph, it becomes clear that wanting to do the right thing was not enough to lead Joseph to the right decision. He needed an encounter with God’s messenger. It was his openness to hear that messenger that allowed him to receive the blessing God had for him the blessing of being entrusted with the son of God.
And here I might pause for just a moment to ask this question. Aren’t we all entrusted with the Son of God? Isn’t each one of us invited to bear him in our hearts and lives each and every day? We are. And, if we take up the example of Joseph, it is not enough to try to be
a good person, to try to do right by people. It is not enough to try to ponder all the things we’ve encountered and then forge ahead with our own wisdom. We need an encounter with God’s messenger to help us see what is brought into being by the Holy Spirit, the Son of God. It helps to be a person who is fair and just and thoughtful, but the attentive ear and obedient heart are also necessary to hear the message God has for us. What is this message?
God is with us. The Savior of the world is here. The Savior will save his people from their sins. And isn’t this good news? We are not alone in this world. God is here. God is present. And, we do not have to save ourselves. We already know that we can’t save ourselves. We can’t save ourselves from the sin of pride that says “Look at us, look at all our human ingenuity. Some day our medical advances will conquer death itself.” We can’t save ourselves from the sin of despair, “The whole world is falling to pieces. Everything is hopeless. There’s nothing we can do. Let’s just give up.” And all the other sins the sins we have done to others the betrayals, the greed, the self-centeredness, shading the truth and the sins that have been done to us abuse, gossip, mocking and the sin of failing to trust. All these and more. And all the hurt and anger and rage and shame built up in and among us. We cannot save ourselves from our sins and from the effects and consequences of our sin. But this baby, Jesus, Savior, will fight a mighty battle with sin and death and Satan to save his people from their sins. Who is this Savior? He is the Son of God. Paul speaks of him in Romans as the one promised through the prophets prophets like Isaiah. He is a descendant of David and the divine Son of God. Through his resurrection we fully know his identity as the divine Son, the one who comes in power. We might use the words of Psalm 24 to identify him as the King of Glory, a king mighty in battle. But he was first seen when he was born to a young married couple staying in Bethlehem in a humble home.
Today, we are invited to trust the sign and the promise of God’s message to us, the message revealed in the baby Jesus: God is with us. The Savior is here, and he is able to save his people from their sins. What we cannot do for ourselves, God can do for us. Do you know He is near? Do you trust him?
Today we are invited to be like Joseph righteous, thoughtful, obedient willing to change our plans in order to participate in the plans of God. And like Joseph we too are entrusted with a great blessing, the blessing of bearing the Son of God in this world. What kind
of character is God inviting you to have? And how will that help you hear his message? What plans have you made? Are you willing to alter them when the Lord speaks? Is it the longing of your heart to participate in the plans of God?
And, I think we have one more invitation, the invitation to be the messengers of God. In each of these stories, there was a divinely appointed messenger who drew the attention of Ahaz and Joseph and communicated the message and plans of God. We, the church, are also invited to be God’s messengers, and he has given us a wonderful message to share. It is really simple: God is with us. Who do you know that needs to hear that message today? Who do you know who needs to be reminded that God is near, that God is revealed to us through Jesus, the Son of God in the flesh. Who do you know that needs to hear that God participates with us in the joys and struggles and challenges of this life. And who do you know that needs to be reminded that there is only one Savior in this world and that Jesus has fought a mighty battle against sin to set us free from sin and to enable us to love and serve this King of Glory? We, God’s church, have been God’s witnesses for millennia that what we could not do for ourselves, God has done for us. Today we are invited to participate in God’s plan to redeem the whole world by sharing the simple message that God has drawn near through his Son and will save his people from their sin. Know this: God is faithful. His promises are sure. His message is true. And his Son, Jesus the Christ, the King of Glory, God with us, the Savior of the world is here.
Amen.