Author: Jovan Payes

Formerly a knuckle-head, now an earnest Christian, who is married to his best friend, the father of three, an evangelist of the Gospel, a Star Wars fan, and tries to be an all around nice guy.

A Brief Look at Patronage as Background for the New Testament

On By Jovan PayesIn 2017, Freed-Hardeman University, Graduate Work, Greco-Roman World, Interpretation, Luke, New Testament, New Testament Background, New Testament World, Paul's Letters, Research Papers, Roman Empire, Romans, Social Conventions, Technical Studies, Women Studies
college papers

The present study is an inquiry into the interconnected reciprocal nature of patronage in the Greco-Roman imperial social setting, as one background component from the New Testament world. One would be wrong to think that such a social dynamic’s presence was minimal. In actuality, patronage and its vocabulary not only appears specifically in the New Testament (Luke 22:25; Acts 10:38; Rom 16:2; Philm 17-20, Phil 4:14-20, etc), but the social reciprocal dynamics in which its value and cultural powers are also assumed (shame, honor, unity, gratitude, fellowship, etc.). The reader who knows what to look for will see it in numerous contexts shaping the life of the body.[1] Unfortunately, the many elements vital to the matrix of patronage can only be pointed to. Yet, as Bruce J. Malina observes, it was “the most significant form of social interaction in the limited-good world of the first century is an informal principle of reciprocity, a sort of implicit, non-legal contractual obligation, unenforceable by any authority apart from one’s sense of honor and shame.”[2] The challenge in this paper is to briefly and accurately describe it.

In seeking to understand the New Testament accurately, scholars propose various exegetical principles and contextualizing models to accomplish this task.[3] The process here requires an approach which appreciates the cultural background of the New Testament to contextualize its vocabulary. This, Albert A. Bell reminds, is the “crucial part of understanding any written text.”[4] Greco-Roman words have a socially conditioned context that the modern reader may not readily identify. “Without a comprehension of the sociological dynamics of that world, our understanding… is terribly superficial at best and woefully mistaken at worst.”[5] The most crucial need for the reader of the New Testament, then, is to be able to bridge the cultural and time gap between the original (native) context and the reader’s contemporary context. This linguistic and cultural divide can be managed. In advancing a cultural-anthropological reading model, Jerome H. Neyrey argues that one can avoid ethnocentric and anachronistic readings of Paul (and the New Testament) by appreciating the difference between reading him as member of the same culture (an emic reading), and by reading him informed by the analytical and descriptive works of specialists and ethnographers (an etic reading).[6] As one gets closer to this “emic reading,” the modern reader comes closer to better appreciate the symbolic universe of Paul’s and Jesus’ culture.[7] The goal here is to gain a realistic perception from “native informants” which can illustrate and contextualize patronage as a Greco-Roman phenomenon.[8]

The presentation to follow will demonstrate how significant the social form of patronage was in the daily life of the Greco-Roman world, it will outline the vocabulary of patronage in Latin and Greek primary sources, it will sharpen this outline to differentiate between political and social patronage, and then offer a realistic scenarios that can illuminate reading the New Testament in its social and cultural world.

Daily Significance of Patronage

In modern analogy, patronage was like an ancient informal “welfare system.” Social services, like the modern model of the United States, would have been quite foreign. Instead, patronage was a cultural phenomenon in which there was a reciprocal relationship between the upper class and the lower class. It benefited lower classes with protection and patronage by means of reasonable support (legal, financial, medical, marital, etc.) for public support, the running of errands, odd jobs, escorting through streets, and providing social honor in exchange (a return). In exchange for the daily allowance (sportula), the client was at the patron’s call. Thus, it was a form of social investment between patron-client; interestingly, even slaves of wealthy households were known to have clients who hoped the slave could use their influence upon their master.[9] Greco-Roman and Christian scholarship is unequivocal about the daily and social significance of the patron-client network of relationships.[10]

Martial, in his colorful Epigrams, clocks what city life was like in the urbs (4.8.1-4): “The first and second hours wear out clients greeting their patrons.” The imagery evokes the crushing nature of the daily dependence of clients upon their patronus. A step further, Juvenal shows how important this allowance of money was for the everyday professional and collegia with his sarcastic words in the Satires (1.95-126):

For no deity is held in such reverence amongst us as Wealth; though as yet, O baneful money, thou hast no temple of thine own; not yet have we reared altars to Money in like manner as we worship Peace and Honour, Victory and Virtue, or that Concord that clatters when we salute her nest.[11]

This fits the common view that the patron-client phenomena were important to the daily life of every social stratum of the Greco-Roman world. To this point, Jérôme Carcopinodescribes that whether employed or unemployed, freedman or the parasite do-nothing, aristocrats or lower plebeians, clients “were no sooner out of bed than they were in the grip of the duties inseparable from being a ‘client.’ […] there was no man in Rome who did not feel himself bound to someone more powerful above him by the same obligations of respect, or, to use the technical term, the same obsequium.”[12] This honor-bound relationship allowed those in various professions and collegia to survive by means of this small daily “dole as their main source of revenue.”

Patronage in Latin and Greek Sources

Extant Greek and Latin sources (literary and epigraphic) speak of patronage, benefaction, and euergetism (good-doing) from political and social perspectives. Ideas such protection, assistance, help, advocacy, and philanthropy appear. Consider the following samples. It seems that patronage was initially borne out of political power and civic duty, but that distinction apparently broke down over time into a social network between the upper and lower classes in the Greco-Roman world among the rich, the poor, the freedman and freedwoman.[13]

The Roman historian Livy stretches back about four centuries to the early Roman Republic and recounts the story of Cincinnatus, the famed aristocratic plebeian consul, turn poor plebeian farmer, turn dictator, turn savior of Roman (History of Rome 3.26-29). According to Livy, his actions as dictator were reciprocated with honor and status. Livy frames (stylizes?) the response of the army as recognizing “the benefit [beneficii] they had received at his hands,” honored him with a golden crown, and “saluted him as their protector [patronum salutaverit]” (History of Rome 3.29.3). They had become his “clients,” and Cincinnatus would use this social bond to his advantage to “clear” the charges against his son Caeso who was on the run for charges of murder. The protector of Rome, then, returned his powers of dictator and returned to the rustic farm life. Later, when Augustus consolidates his power, Tacitus recounts his use of “gratuities” (donis) among the military and the poor (Annals 1.2). Michael Grant[14] interprets this as Augustus letting “it be understood that the old institution of patrons and clients had been recast, so that henceforward all the people were his own, personal clients, including the poorest citizens.” Thus, as principis Augustus and the emperors after him would portray (politically?) to the citizens of Rome and its subjects a bond of reciprocal loyalty.

Greek sources also illuminate various aspects of patronage. In the fifth century BCE, Sophocles frames the tragic Oedipus as gratefully exchanging protection from Thebes and “help [prostátisi] of the dread goddesses” who reigns in their districts, with obtaining “a great savior [sōtēr’] for this city, and troubles for my enemies” in him (Oedipus at Colunus 455-460). The Apocrypha[15] likewise points to the political upheavals in the Maccabean storyline connected to concepts of patronage. In 2 Maccabees, Simon slanders Onias, who is designated “a plotter against the government the man who was the benefactor [tòn euergétēn] of the city, the protector [tòn kēdemóna] of his compatriots, and a zealot for the laws” (4:2).[16]

In 3 Maccabees 3:13-29, “King Ptolemy Philopater” declares to his “generals and soldiers” that despite his goodwill (philanthrōpía), a desire to do good (eū poiēsaí), and to honor (timēsai) in the Jewish temple (3:15-17), the Jews “manifest ill-will toward us” and are “the only people among all nations who hold their heads high in defiance of kings and their own benefactors [euergétais], and are unwilling to regard any action as sincere” (3:19). The accommodative and benevolent king (philanthrópōs 3:20) declares that such rebellious Jews should be arrested, bound, and deported and that any who harbor them should be severely punished (3:25-29). Eventually, Philopator descends upon the Jews but is subdued by two angels. The king breaks down to pity and tears, and blames and threatens his “friends” (toís phílois):  “You are committing treason and surpassing tyrants in cruelty; and even me, your benefactor [euergétēn]” (6:24).

Political and Social Patronage in Rome

In the Greco-Roman world of the first century CE, there appears to be evidence distinguishing between political and social patronage. This can be confusing since sources often use terms like benefactor, euergetes, and patron in the process of discussion. The masculine form of the Greek prostát– (see verbal use above for “help”) is somewhat problematic. It is often considered synonymous with the Latin patronus. Interestingly, the New Testament the feminine form προστάτις is used in Romans 16:2 and translated as patron and benefactor (ESV; NIV, NRSV, HCSB). Erlend D. MacGillivray[17] takes exception to the view that these two forms are completely synonymous. The masculine appears in both Attic Greek and in the Roman Empire and carries both legal and a variety of leadership benefaction roles, but not the feminine form. MacGillivray argues that applying the masculine meaning upon prostátis is exegetically problematic for this reason. Benefaction is in view, but one must distinguish between political patronage from some interpersonal social networking.

MacGillivray argues that understanding prostátis depends, then, upon understanding the fluid nature of ancient Mediterranean reciprocal dynamics, recognizing the patron-client model is far too limiting and misleading. There is a difference between the narrow and nuanced meaning of classical patronage and the broad euergetistic/altruistic benefaction. While epigraphical gratitude evidence shows that prostátis and prostátes imply civic prestige, the nature of the evidence is, however, often weak to force synonymity. Part of the problem stems from the near normative templates in honorary Greco-Roman epigraphs that do not always neatly distinguish between the various kinds of patronage. Thus, the presence of these terms do not prove exclusively a classical patronage/patronus; consequently, MacGillivray’s work argues that prostátis and prostátes are not demonstrably synonymous.

R. A. Kearsley[18] extends this trajectory and explores several first century CE gratitude (honorarium) inscriptions shedding light on the first-century distinction between political and social patronage. These aristocratic women are named, Iunia Theodora and Claudia Metrodora, and are celebrated as female benefactors/patrons who operated in mid-first century CE Asia Minor. The cities of Lycia (Myra, Patara, Tel-messos) recount the influence of Theodora. Theodora apparently had multiple-citizenships, she freely shared her wealth, applied influenced for political and commercial purposes, and is described consistently in benefactor terms (sōphronōs, philolúkios) in Lycia. Such amounts to Theodora functioning as a social benefactor. On the other hand, Metrodora of Chiot Island likewise held multiple-citizenships, did hold political office as magistrate (stephanephoros), which required benefaction toward the people although she surpassed such requirements. She functioned in banquets, directed imperial games, gymnasiarch, public bathhouse donation, basileia in Ionia, and was praised for her public virtue. She was a benefactor as part of holding office.

Realistic Patronage Scenarios for Reading the New Testament

The above illustrations provide insight into the deep and ancient tradition of patronage and how such played out in various settings. There are two passages where patronage vocabulary is explicitly found in the New Testament.

First, in Luke, the political aspect of patronage is evident in Jesus’ counter-intuitive teaching on greatness. Jesus corrects the “greatness debate” among the disciples by saying,

“The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors [euergétai]. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves” (22:25-26).

Frederick W. Danker observes, euergétai “served as a title for rulers in Syria and Egypt… In many cases the title would conceal tyranny under extravagant expenditure” (cf. Greek Esther 16:2-3, 13-14).[19] One might argue that Jesus is taking for granted a political euergétai known to abuse such roles, and parts from the fundamental principle of the patron-client relationship: “a service performed or a favor done shall not be transformed into status and honor.”[20] Jesus’ leadership principle, then, is that one serves detached from the demands of reciprocity and the honor and status it brings (cf. Acts 10:38).[21]

Second, in Romans 16:1-2 patronage appears to have a social component. Paul commends Phoebe to the church as “a servant of the church at Cenchreae” and as one who should be helped —reciprocally— “for she has been a patron [prostátis] of many and of myself as well.” Caroline F. Whelan[22] relates this passage to the context of Roman reciprocal social conventions within associations (collegia). Whelan maintains that women not only had the Roman legal standing to operate their wealth independently of guardians, they also functioned as civic patrons for collegia. Secondly, comparable “recommendation” letters reveal two types of reciprocal relationships. There is the superior-inferior recommendation rhetoric, and two, the social-equals recommendation rhetoric; each reflecting in some sense the inherent nature of reciprocity in Rome’s social structure, the matrix of which fuses together the economic and social. Romans 16:1-2, then, points to one of these realistic scenarios. Whelan argues that the patronage between social equals (amica, friends) is probably in view. Phoebe needs Paul’s influence among those addressed in Romans 16 (thus the recommendation), but as “equals” such rhetoric is not for his own social benefit. Instead, it is a gesture of gratitude for her own social activity as a social patron (euergetistic) to the collegia of the church in Cenchrea.

Conclusion

Robert Wilken asserts: “We have a distorted view of the history of early Christianity… The historian of Christianity has given the impression that the rest of the canvas is simply background for the closeup —relegating the general history of the times to an introductory chapter of vague generalities.”[23] Hopefully, this paper provides a closer, native (emic) reading. The smaller the cultural and linguistic gap is, the more accurate the reading. May this paper accomplish its task, to gain realistic perceptions from primary sources which can illustrate and contextualize patronage as an important Greco-Roman imperial phenomenon.

Endnotes

  1. David A. deSilva, “Honor and Shame,” “Patronage,” DNTB 518-22, 766-71; Donald Walker, “Benefactor,” DNTB 157-59; Halvor Moxnes, “Patron-Client Relations and the New Community in Luke-Acts,” in The Social World of Luke-Acts, ed. J. H. Neyrey (1991; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 1993), 241-68; Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 66-69.
  2. Bruce J. Malina, The New Testament World (Louisville: John Knox, 1981), 80.
  3. Ralph P. Martin, “Approaches to New Testament Exegesis,” in New Testament Interpretation, ed. I. Howard Marshall (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977), 220-51.
  4. Albert A. Bell, Jr., Exploring the New Testament World (Nashville: Nelson, 1998), 2.
  5. M. Robert Mulholland, Jr., “Sociological Criticism,” in Interpreting the New Testament, eds. David A. Black and David S. Dockery (Nashville: B&H, 2001), 171.
  6. Jerome H. Neyrey, Paul, In Other Words (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1990), 13.
  7. Neyrey, Paul, 14-17. Neyrey’s distinctions and concerns have value, but he makes a hardline dichotomy between Paul as one who receives supra-cultural insight (i.e., from God) and Paul as a fully incarnated product of his times (18). This distinction ignores Paul’s stated role from God. This is one of Mulholland’s four critiques of this model, it tends to be human-centered, often grounded in dynamic models foreign to the Roman world, imposes the model on the evidence, and lends itself to sociological reductionism (“Sociological Criticism,” 178-80).
  8. David A. deSilva, The Hope of Glory: Honor Discourse and New Testament Interpretation (Collegeville: Liturgical, 1999). The “native informants” are “our best instructors” (xi).
  9. Bell, Exploring the New Testament World, 191-92.
  10. Ferguson, Backgrounds, 67; Florence DuPont, Daily Life in Ancient Rome, trans. C. Woodall (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993); Micahel Grant, A Social History of Greece and Rome (New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1992).
  11. Juvenal, Satire 1.95-126, http://sourcebooks.fordham.edu/halsall/ancient/juv-sat1eng.asp.
  12. Jérôme Carcopino, Daily Life in Ancient Rome, ed. Henry T. Rowell, trans. E. O. Lorimer (1940; repr., New Haven: Yale University, 1968), 171.
  13. Grant, Social History of Greece and Rome, 30, 54, 70-76, 114-119.
  14. Grant, Social History of Greece and Rome, 75-76.
  15. See also the verbal, and substantival, usages in Wisdom 3:5, 11:5, 13, 16:2, 19:13-14; 2 Macc 8:6; 4 Macc 8:6; Greek Esther 16:2-3 = 8:12c (tōn euergetoúntōn), 13 = 8:12n (euergétēn). Of these sources, Mordecai is framed as sōtēra and euergétēn (cf. God in LXX Psa 12:6, 56:3, 114:7).
  16. Quotations for the Old Testament Apocrypha are taken from New Revised Standard Version of the Holy Bible (Nashville: Nelson, 1989). The Greek text is from Septuaginta (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1996).
  17. Erlend D. MacGillivray, “Romans 16:2, prostátis/prostátes, and the Application of Reciprocal Relationships to New Testament Texts,” NovT 53 (2011): 183-99.
  18. R. A. Kearsley, “Women in Public Life in the Roman East: Iunia Theodora, Claudia Metrodora and Phoebe, Benefactress of Paul,” TynB 50.2 (1999): 189-211.
  19. Frederick W. Danker, Jesus and the New Age According to St. Luke (St. Louis: Clayton Publishing, 1979), 222.
  20. Moxnes, “Patron-Client Relations,” 261.
  21. Halvor Moxnes, The Economy of the Kingdom (1988; repr., Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2004), 158.
  22. Caroline F. Whelan, “Amica Pauli: The Role of Phoebe in the Early Church,” JSNT 49 (1993): 67-85.
  23. Robert L. Wilken, The Christians as the Romans Saw Them (New Haven: Yale University, 1984), xiv.

Bibliography

Bell, Albert A., Jr. Exploring the New Testament World: An Illustrated Guide to the World of Jesus and the First Christians. Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1998.

Carcopino, Jérôme. Daily Life in Ancient Rome: The People and the City at the Height of the Empire. Edited by Henry T. Rowell. Translated by E. O. Lorimer. 1940. Repr., New Haven, CT: Yale University, 1968.

Danker, Frederick W. Jesus and the New Age According to St. Luke: A Commentary on the Third Gospel. 1972. Repr., St. Louis, MO: Clayton Publishing, 1979.

deSilva, David A. “Honor and Shame.” DNTB. 518-22.

deSilva, David A. The Hope of Glory: Honor Discourse and New Testament Interpretation. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1999.

deSilva, David A. “Patronage” DNTB. 766-71.

DuPont, Florence. Daily Life in Ancient Rome. Translated by Christopher Woodall. Oxford: Blackwell, 1993.

Ferguson, Everett. Backgrounds of Early Christianity. 3rd edition. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2003.

Grant, Michael. A Social History of Greece and Rome. New York, NY: Scribner’s Sons, 1992.

Kearsley, R. A. “Women in Public Life in the Roman East: Iunia Theodora, Claudia Metrodora and Phoebe, Benefactress of Paul.” TynB 50.2 (1999): 189-211.

MacGillivray, Erlend D. “Romans 16:2, prostátis/prostátes, and the Application of Reciprocal Relationships to New Testament Texts.” NovT 53 (2011): 183-99.

Malina, Bruce J. The New Testament World: Insight from Cultural Anthropology. Atlanta, GA: Knox, 1981.

Moxnes, Halvor. The Economy of the Kingdom: Social Conflict and Economic Relations in Luke’s Gospel. Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 1988. Repr., Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2004.

——-. “Patron-Client Relations and the New Community in Luke-Acts.” Pages 241-68 in The Social World of Luke-Acts: Models for Interpretation. Edited by Jerome H. Neyrey. 1991. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1993.

Mulholland, M. Robert, Jr. “Sociological Criticism.” Pages 170-86 in Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues. Edited by David Alan Black and David S. Dockery. Nashville, TN: B&H, 2001.

Neyrey, Jerome H. Paul, In Other Words: A Cultural Reading of His Letters. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1990.

Walker, Donald D. “Benefactor.” DNTB. 157-59.

Whelan, Caroline F. “Amica Pauli: The Role of Phoebe in the Early Church.” JSNT 49 (1993): 67-85.

Wilken, Robert L. The Christians as the Romans Saw Them. New Haven, CT: Yale University, 1984.

An Exegetical Walkthrough of John 16:12-15

On By Jovan PayesIn Apostles, Articles, College Work, Exegesis, Gospel, Greek Grammar, Greek Studies, Holy Spirit, Jesus Studies, Johannine Literature, John, New Testament, New Testament Canon, Translation
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The seventeenth-century “non-conformist” English pastor, Ralph Venning, is famous for immortalizing the following line regarding Scripture:

it is deep enough for an elephant to swim in, and yet shallow enough for a lamb to wade through.

No truer does this speak to both the complex richness and visual clarity of the Gospel of John. John is traditionally regarded as one of the last written books of the New Testament canon at the tail-end of the first-century CE. When compared to Matthew, Mark, and Luke, John is written in a style all its own — comparable only to the letters of John.

Of the significant unique features of John is the tightly bound chapters, known by many as Jesus’ Farewell Discourse (John 14-16). It is prudent to consider a few preliminary matters to appreciate the way John 16:12-15 delivers on the themes of John and the coming of the Holy Spirit with a view to some application for the modern church.

Genre and Interpretation

John, as the so-called Fourth Gospel, has presented itself with challenges of every kind. As Gary M. Burge observes, the study of what is a gospel genre and its interpretation has been an intense one, especially as it relates to the Gospel of John.[1] The nature of the genre of the gospel as a narrative is still in somewhat of a debate, and in particular how John’s structural stability or instability is appreciated and explained.[2]

The question about gospel genre speaks to what is its purpose and goal(s). This has troubled the academic community for some time. For example, a gospel is a biography but it is not what a modern person thinks of as a biography since so many anticipated features are missing. An examination of the early chapters of each Gospel reveals a thumbsketch history of Jesus’ “early years.” As Craig Blomberg demonstrates, modern perceptions of biography are misleading and resulted in earlier scholars questioning the historical value of the Gospels on false assumptions.[3] However, Blomberg continues, “when they are set side by side with various ancient sources, the Gospels compare quite favorably”:

Ancient historical standards of precision in narration and in selection and arrangement of material were much less rigid than modern ones. Few, if any, ancient works were written merely for the sake of preserving the facts; almost all were trying to put forward and defend certain ideologies or morals. But propaganda need not distort the facts, though it sometimes does. Of course, any genre may be modified, and there are uniquely Christian features in the Gospels.[4]

Craig Blomberg, “The Diversity of Literary Genres in the New Testament,” Interpreting the New Testament

Consequently, while scholars acknowledge the formal critical parallels between the Gospel accounts and other ancient historical and biographical documents, there are unique features in matters of content and emphasis.[5] Some students have even cautioned that there are significant variations even between the four Gospels based on their own internal agendas, sufficient enough to make Larry Hurtado caution, “it wise to treat them individually.”[6]

John on His Own

The Gospel of John bears features that stand uniquely against the Synoptics. This, however, does not suggest a contradiction. This proclivity of John to emphasize unique material does not disassociate itself with the themes of the Synoptics. For example, instead of a nativity narrative, there is an emphasis on the pre-incarnate narrative (John 1:1-14ff) serving as a prequel to their nativity storyline (Matt 2:1-23; Luke 1:26-52). Moreover, an emphasis upon miracle narratives and extensive dialogs and discourses, take precedence over parabolic instructions and pronouncements.[7] 

Despite the material that is unique to John, C. K. Barrett calls attention to the fact that events in John and Mark “occur in the same order.”[8] And while Barrett stresses that John most likely borrowed from Mark, Leon Morris responds that such features found to be common with John and the Synoptics “is precisely the kind that one would anticipate finding in oral tradition.”[9] In short, John is certainly unique in many significant ways, but it follows the same structure of Matthew, Mark, and Luke.

A Broad Layout for John

John may be divided broadly into two thematically arranged halves (1:19-12:50; 13:1-21:25), despite some disagreement regarding the structural integrity of the fourth Gospel, due to certain aporia (i.e. any perplexing difficulty).[10] Jeffrey Staley suggests these tendencies are set forth in the prologue (John 1:1-18) and bolsters the viability of the approach taken here.[11] John 1:19-12:50 (“book of signs”) and John 13:1-21:25 (“book of glory”) are consequently the main divisions taken in this study.

The last nine chapters focus great attention upon the last few days of Jesus’ life,[12] where the focus is on the “Upper Room” and his “Farewell Discourse” (13-17), the crucifixion and resurrection narratives (18-21). Even more specifically, the text under consideration (John 16:12-15) finds its niche as the last of five discourses that speak of the Spirit as the Paraclete (John 14:15-17, 25-26; 15:26-27; 16:7-11, 12-15):[13]

Book of Glory 13:1-21:25

Upper Room/Farewell (13-16)

Prayer (17)

Crucifixion and Resurrection (18-21)

A Brief Exegetical Walkthrough

This paper sets out to examine John 16:12-15 as the last of five segments that place emphasis upon the Paraclete’s role in the ministry of the apostles; furthermore, to examine the nature of the Paraclete’s role in the early church, as set forth by Jesus, as an apostolic “Aid,” guiding them in the ways that pertain to truth.

Verse 12: I have many things left to say to all of you, but you are not able to endure it at the present time. (Author's Translation)[14]

Following George Beasley-Murray’s lead, the final Paraclete passage brings the discourse to a “climax” emphasizing the role the Spirit’s ministry.[15] The adverbial eti here takes the sense of “what is left or remaining”[16] and in concert with all’, which contextually appears to function as a transition marker placing emphasis on “the other side of a matter or issue,”[17] suggests that verse 12 begins to further demonstrate the importance of the Spirit’s coming presence. Eti and all’ are pivotal phrases for they describe the tension of the situation in which the disciples are to be found. Consequently, this climactic Paraclete discussion may be viewed in terms of two perspectives: the disciples’ and the Lord’s.

First, from the disciple’s perspective, one wonders how much more Jesus withheld from them during his personal ministry. However, earlier in this context Jesus clearly told them, “I did not speak about these matters to you, because I was among you” (John 16:4b). As a result of disclosing the impending future events, Jesus observes their plight and says, “pain has filled your hearts” (16:6b). The thought of loss and loneliness, without access to the presence of Jesus, made the disciples at that moment (arti) incapable (ou dúnasthe) to carry the burden (bastádzein) of what appears to be doctrinal and prophetic significance (14:26; 16:14). The anarthrous adverbial infinitival construction ou dúnasthe bastádzein stresses purpose; namely, the disciples do not have adequate capacity in order to “sustain the burden” of what Jesus has left to teach them.[18] Thus, in essence, because the disciples are currently unable to carry more weight (upon the sorrow?) in their hearts, there remains future spiritual growth.

Second, from the Lord’s perspective, he looks forward to a future event. This observation is made on the basis of the present lack of capacity of the disciples to carry the burden of what Jesus has to further instruct them in. If ou dúnasthe bastádzein arti is to be taken as a present reality, then Jesus looks forward to a future reality-event when they will have the capacity to bear his teaching. This is one of the blessings already referred to previously that flow from the arrival of the Paraclete (14:25-27; 15:26-16:11).

The Paraclete[19] is viewed as an “Aid” in John 14:25-27 as one who will “teach” the disciples and “remind” them of the teaching of Jesus eventuating in “peace”; in contrast to the “sorrow” that they are now experiencing (16:6). And with the arrival of the Paraclete, the disciples will have an “Advocate” for their defense from the world (15:26-27), and a “Counselor” to give guidance in accusing the world (16:8-11).[20] In each circumstance, Jesus says, “the Father will give you another Paraclete” (14:16), “the Father will send” (14:26), “but when the Paraclete comes” (15:26), “when he comes” (16:8), “when the Spirit of truth comes” (16:12). Hence, Jesus already anticipates a time when the disciples overcome both their sorrow and the corresponding incapacity to bear more of his teaching.

Verse 13: However, when that one has come – the Spirit of Truth – he will guide you in all the truth; for he will not speak from himself, on the contrary, to the extent of what he will hear, he will speak. And he will announce to you the things that are to come.

Preliminary to discussing the continued flow of thought from verse 12, there is a text-critical matter that needs some attention. Verse 13 bears two significant variants. The first is the dative construction en te aletheía páse (dative of sphere) following hodegései humas, which according to other textual traditions has an accusative construction eis pasan tèn alétheian (spatial accusative). The committee of the UBS4 textual apparatus has given en te aletheía páse a B rating; meaning, that they view the dative construction as is almost certain,[21] being witnessed by notable uncials Aleph1 (4th century), W (4/5 centuries). Meanwhile, the accusative construction is witnessed by notable uncials A (5) and B (4th century) with variation, and 068 (5th century). Along with early translations and early patristic witnesses, the evidence appears somewhat fairly divided. Bruce Metzger suggests, however, “the construction of eis and the accusative seems to have been introduced by copyists who regarded it as more idiomatic after hodegései”[22] than en with the dative.[23]

Despite the pain that filled each disciple’s heart, the disciples were directed to a future event – the work of the Spirit of Truth (16:13ff.). “However” (dè) marks that Jesus is developing a new topic (dè of “switch subject”).[24] Moreover, this contrast is temporal as demonstrated by hótan élthe (“when that one has arrived”). Furthermore, following Buth’s discussion on δὲ as a mark of switching subjects, it is proposed that the new subject is ekeínos, which refers to ho parákletos. Daniel Wallace proposes that this is a more solid linguistic connection between this pronoun and its antecedent (ekeínos = ho parákletos).[25] Consequently, tò Pneùma tès aletheías serves as an appositional phrase expanding and further defining ekeínos; hence the translation, “when that one has come – the Spirit of Truth […]” (John 16:13a). Instead of the present reality of pain that the disciples feel, Jesus focuses on the guidance that ho parákletos[26] will bring to the disciples.

Ancient sources point to a Jewish background the Spirit of Truth motif. This vocabulary was typical when admonishing obedient and moral lives by using concepts that are dualistic. For example, we find a proverbial discussion of “the spirit of truth and the spirit of error” with “the spirit of discernment” standing between them urging there to be a selection of truth (T. Jud 20). Observe the full quote:

Learn therefore, my children, that two spirits wait upon man—the spirit of truth and the spirit of error; and in the midst is the spirit of the understanding of the mind, to which it belongeth to turn whithersoever it will.  And the works of truth and the works of error are written upon the breast of men, and each one of them the Lord knoweth.  And there is no time at which the works of men can be hid from Him; for on the bones of his breast hath he been written down before the Lord.  And the spirit of truth testifieth all things, and accuseth all; and he who sinneth is burnt up by his own heart, and cannot raise his face unto the Judge. (italics added)[27]

Moreover, in the Qumran cache there is a discussion of God allotting two spirits to humanity, “the spirits of truth and perversity” in between which humanity must walk, again choosing between the two. As a result, walking with the truth is to “walk in the ways of light,” and the converse is true of walking with perversity – to walk in darkness (1QS 3:18-21). Again, observe:

[God] allotted unto humanity two spirits that he should walk in them until the time of His visitation; they are the spirits of truth and perversity. The origin of truth is in a fountain of light, and the origin of perversity is from a fountain of darkness. Dominion over all the sons of righteousness is in the hand of the Prince of light; they walk in the ways of light. All dominion over the sons of perversity is in the hand of the Angel of darkness; they walk in the ways of darkness. (italics added)[28]

These resonate strongly with the positive guidance the disciples will receive from the Paraclete.

The source of the Paraclete’s teaching is external to him, “for he will not speak from himself, “on the contrary” (all’), to the extent of what he will hear, he will speak.” Since earlier the Paraclete is said to be like Jesus (14:16-17), and Jesus also said that his teaching was not his own (3:32-35; 7:16-18; 8:26-29, etc.), it would make sense that the teaching of the Paraclete would originate from the Father. As F. Moloney observes, “neither Jesus nor the Paraclete is the ultimate source of the revelation they communicate.”[29] And his work is, in part, to remind the disciples of the teaching of Jesus (14:26).

In addition to this call to remembrance, “he will announce” (lalései) to them “things that are to come” (tà erchómena anangeleì), which presumably are the things that he will also “hear” (hósa akoúsei). Some view this last phrase (tà erchómena anangeleì) as eschatologically prophetic.[30] Others view it as instructional content yet to be expanded upon.[31] D. A. Carson proposes that this phrase has to do with “all that transpires in consequence of the pivotal revelation bound up with Jesus’ person, ministry, death, resurrection and exaltation.”[32] These matters, Carson views, are the subject of what we now call the New Testament Canon; consequently, this anticipates further canonical development by the new prophetic office – the apostleship.[33]

Verse 14: That one will glorify me, because he will take from what is mine and he will report it to you.

Still looking to the arrival of the Paraclete (e.g. ekeínos), Jesus expands further upon his ministry – he will glorify Jesus. The word doxásei was often used in LXX to glorify God (2 Sam 6:20; 1 Chron 17:18), so also is used to describe one of the roles the Paraclete will have.[34] The term hóti has been ignored somewhat here among commentaries, where it could potentially be employed epexegetically; saying, “the Paraclete will glorify (honor) Jesus; namely, by taking the teaching that goes back to the Lord’s ministry and announcing it afresh to the disciples.” Such is not an unlikely view of the grammar; however, viewing hóti as causal (i.e. “because”) the sense changes slightly. Overall, the idea that the Paraclete’s glorifying of Jesus directly relates to him taking the teaching that was Jesus’ remains the same.[35]

This is borne out by Carson in three related ways. First, the Paraclete’s work is Christ-centric. Second, based upon the implication drawing from ek tou emou lépsetai “from what is mine,” Carson draws the conclusion that “the Spirit takes from this infinite sum and gives that truth to the disciples.” Third, Christ is the center of his teaching ministry, and it is through the Spirit’s work that Jesus is glorified.[36]

There is a rather important emphasis that should be laid upon the phrase ananggelei humìn. The term has to do with providing information; hence, may be translated “disclose,” “announce,” “proclaim,” or even “teach.”[37] What is contextually significant is that ananggéllōα carries an implicit understanding that it is a report of what one has heard.[38] Incidentally, the Paraclete will speak whatever he has heard (hósa akoúsei lalései 16:13), and here Jesus says that the Paraclete will take from what is his (Jesus), from where he will provide information to the disciples. Again, this highlights two matters: first, that the Paraclete will not speak independently; and second, the content of his teaching is all truth and Jesus. As Barrett observes, in John, ananggéllō (4:25, 5:15, 16:13-15) “is applied to the revelation of divine truth, and it is apparent that it is so used here.”[39]

Furthermore, Lawrence Lutkemeyer observes, that ananggéllō is “never” used in a predictive sense; instead, it is employed to report the way things were, are, or as they come into realization.[40] Therefore, what is under consideration is a reporting of the teaching and implications that flow from Christ and the Gospel message. This reporting is deposited within the pages of what is now the New Testament canon and serves as demonstrative proof that they have understood the Lord’s teaching.[41]

Verse 15: All things whatsoever the Father has are mine; for this reason I said, [hóti] “he takes from what is mine and will report it to you.”

When Jesus says, “All things whatsoever the Father has are mine,” it is in a sense logical to deduce that the content of what the Spirit is to announce or report to the disciples is under consideration. Carson again observes:

Therefore if the Spirit takes what is mine and makes it known to the disciples, the content of what is mine is nothing less than the revelation of the Father himself, for Jesus declares, All that belongs to the Father is mine (v. 15). That is why Jesus has cast the Spirit’s ministry in terms of the unfolding of what belongs to the Son: this is not a lighting of God, or undue elevation of the Son, since what belongs to the Father belongs to the Son. It is therefore entirely appropriate that the Spirit’s ministry be designed to bring glory to the Son (v. 14).[42]

D. A. Carson, The Gospel According to John, Piller New Testament Commentaries

It is precisely because they share this content and revelation (dià toùto) that the Paraclete will draw out from what belongs to Jesus (16:14), and that he will only speak what he has heard (16:13). There is a very similar statement in Luke, but here it speaks in reference to Jesus as he was sent from the Father (Luke 10:16).[43] The parallel is striking to this context regarding the Paraclete, of which Jesus by implication is the first and the Spirit is the second (14:16).

Precisely because of this shared content and revelation (dià toùto), Jesus retrospectively points out that he had spoken certain words to them (eìpon).[44] And here, John employs the recitativum hóti, meaning that the use of this conjunction is designed to introduce a direct quotation and is usually left untranslated.[45] Often hóti functions as an indicator of direct discourse.”[46] It serves only “to call attention to the quotation,” thus it functions in the same fashion as do quotation marks;[47] hence, in the translation above, hóti is emboldened and bracketed to demonstrate the origin of the quotation marks. What Jesus points to then, is the role of the Paraclete, “he takes from what is mine and will report it to you.”

It is interesting to note that the first quotation, “he takes from what is mine” (ek toù emoù lambánei) is a present indicative as opposed to the future indicative in 16:14 (lémpsetai). The shift in the tense of activity to the present as Christ views the Spirit’s work retrospectively may point back to 14:17, where Christ apparently speaks in both present and future tenses. Jesus says, “You know (present) him, for he dwells (present) with you and will be (future) in you” (14:17b). However, to be fair, the UBS4 committee had difficulty deciphering between a variant here (giving it a C rating) that relates specifically to the tense of both verbs ménei and éstai. If the wording of 14:17 stands as the majority of the UBS4 committee suggests,[48] then the Spirit was already in some sense active in the apostolic circle, and will in the future be in them.

This reflects what is happening here. Jesus notes that the Spirit is, in some sense, already taking (lambánei) from the reservoir of revelation and that he will when the time is ready, report this information to them (ananggeleì humìn). There is little by way of academic support for this approach to provide a resolution for the tense change from lémpsetai to lambánei (except Moloney).[49] Barrett’s terse statement, “the change of tense (cf. lémpsetai, v. 14) does not seem to be significant,”[50] needs revision on the grounds that 14:17, assuming its textual basis is the weightiest available, transitions from present to future with reference to the Paraclete’s work as does the tense shift in 16:15.[51]

Endnotes

  1. Gary M. Burge, “Interpreting the Gospel of John,” Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues, eds. David Alan Black and David S. Dockery (Nashville, TN: B&H, 2001), 357-70.
  2. Burge, “Interpreting,” 376-78.
  3. Craig Blomberg, “The Diversity of Literary Genres in the New Testament,” Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues, eds. David Alan Black and David S. Dockery (Nashville, TN: B&H, 2001), 274.
  4. Blomberg, “The Diversity of Literary Genres,” 274.
  5. Blomberg, “The Diversity of Literary Genres,” 275.
  6. Larry W. Hurtado, “Gospel (Genre),” DJG 278.
  7. Hurtado, “Gospel (Genre),” 281.
  8. C. K. Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John: An Introduction with Commentary and Notes on the Greek Text, 2d ed. (Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1978), 43.
  9. Leon Morris, The Gospel According to John, rev. ed., NICNT (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1995), 45.
  10. Burge, “Interpreting,” 376-78.
  11. Jeff Staley, “The Structure of John’s Prologue: Its Implications for the Gospel’s Narrative Structure,” CBQ 48.2 (April 1986): 241-49.
  12. Burge, “Interpreting,” 382.
  13. C. H. Dodd takes note of the significant fact, that John 15.1 to 16.15 is a pure monologue, and is in fact, the longest monologue in the entire Johannine Gospel (The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel [New York, NY: Cambridge at the University Press, 1965], 410).
  14. The translations are the author’s unless otherwise noted.
  15. George R. Beasley-Murray, Gospel of Life: Theology in the Fourth Gospel (1991; repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1995), 78.
  16. BDAG 400.
  17. BDAG 45.
  18. BDAG 171; Daniel B. Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996), 590.
  19. “The principal difficulty encountered in rendering parákletos is the fact that this term covers potentially such a wide area of meaning. The traditional rendering of ‘Comforter’ is especially misleading because it suggests only one very limited aspect of what the Holy Spirit does” (L&N 12.19). There are three semantic domains in which it overlaps: (1) psychological factors of encouragement, (2) definite communication aspects, and (3) intercessory aspects leading toward certain legal implications and procedures (L&N 35:16, fn. 4).
  20. Beasley-Murray, Gospel of Life, 71-72.
  21. Bruce M. Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, 2d ed. (1994; repr., Stuttgart, Germany: German Bible Society, 2001), 14*.
  22. Metzger, A Textual Commentary, 210; cf., Stanley E. Porter, Idioms of the Greek New Testament, 2d ed. (London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2005), 151-52.
  23. Interestingly, Stanley E. Porter discusses the morphological connection between eis and en, noting that eis “may have been formally derived from the preposition ἐν, through the process of adding a final sigma (ens), the nu dropping out, and compensatory lengthening of the vowel from e to ei” (Idioms, 151) As a result, there is evidence of a connection, observing that “eis in its basic meaning is concerned with the movement of the sphere toward and into” a location, “as if this were the action that resulted in the condition of en” (Idioms, 151). There is much, therefore, to agree with Barrett’s observation that: “The difference in meaning between the two readings is slight, but whereas eis t. al. suggests that, under the Spirit’s guidance, the disciples will come to know all truth, en t. al. suggests guidance in the whole sphere of truth; they will be kept in the truth of God […] which is guaranteed by the mission of Jesus” (Gospel According to St. John, 489).
  24. Randall Buth, “Oun, De, Kai, and Asyndeton in John’s Gospel,” Linguistics and New Testament Interpretation: Essays on Discourse Analysis, eds. David Alan Black, et al. (Nashville, TN: Broadman, 1992), 145, 151.
  25. Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics, 331-32.
  26. That one who is ho parákletos will come as a guide in all truth, and it is only fitting then that ho parákletos is called “the Spirit of Truth” (tò pneùma tés aletheías). The two titles are complex conceptions; however, they appeal to certain Hebrew motifs that need some attention here. Without developing too deeply some of the backgrounds of each of these phrases, John employs the phrases ho parákletos (5 times) and tò pneùma tés aletheía (4 times) exclusively among New Testament authors. However, cognates are used by other authors.
  27. T. Judas 20, ANF 8:20.
  28. 1QS 3:18–21 as quoted in Craig A. Evans, Word and Glory: On the Exegetical and Theological Background of John’s Prologue, JSNT Supplement 89 (England: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993), 147.
  29. Francis J. Moloney, The Gospel of John, SP 4 (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1998), 441.
  30. Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John, 490.
  31. George R. Beasley-Murray, John, 2d ed., WBC 36 (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1999), 283; Rodney A. Whitacre, John, IVPNTC, eds. Grant Osborne, et al. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1999), 392-93.
  32. D. A. Carson, The Gospel According to John, PNTC (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1991), 540.
  33. D. A. Carson, The Farewell Discourse and Final Prayer of Jesus: An Exposition of John 14:-17 (1980; repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1988), 149-51.
  34. Ceslas Spicq, “dóxa, doxádzō, sundoxádzō,” Theological Lexicon of the New Testament, trans. James D. Ernest (1994; repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996), 1:376-78.
  35. Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics, 459-60.
  36. Carson, The Farewell Discourse, 150.
  37. BDAG 59.
  38. BDAG 59.
  39. Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John, 490; Carson, According to John, 540.
  40. Lawrence J. Lutkemeyer, “The Role of the Paraclete (John 16:7-15),” CBQ 8.2 (April 1946): 228.
  41. Andreas J. Köstenberger, The Missions of Jesus and the Disciples According to the Fourth Gospel: With Implications for the Fourth Gospel’s Purpose and the Mission of the Contemporary Church (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998), 173-74; Lutkemeyer, “The Role of the Paraclete,” 228; Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John, 490-91.
  42. Carson, According to John, 541.
  43. “The one who hears you hears me, and the one who rejects you rejects me, and the one who rejects me rejects him who sent me” (Luke 16.10 ESV).
  44. Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics, 333.
  45. Matthew S. DeMoss, Pocket Dictionary for the Study of New Testament Greek (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2001), 107.
  46. James Allen Hewitt, New Testament Greek: A Beginning and Intermediate Grammar (1986; repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2004), 52.
  47. A. T. Robertson and W. Hersey Davis, A New Short Grammar of the Greek Testament, 10th ed. (1958; repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1979), 364.
  48. Metzger, A Textual Commentary, 208.
  49. Moloney, The Gospel of John, 447.
  50. Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John, 491.
  51. Moloney, The Gospel of John, 447.

Bibliography

Barrett, Charles K. The Gospel According to St. John: An Introduction with Commentary and Notes on the Greek Text. 2d edition. Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1978.

(BDAG) Bauer, Walter, F.W. Danker, William F. Arndt, and F. Wilbur Gingrich. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and other Early Christian Literature. 3rd edition. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000.

Beasley-Murray, George R. Gospel of Life: Theology in the Fourth Gospel. 1991. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1995.

Blomberg, Craig. “The Diversity of Literary Genres in the New Testament.” Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues. Edited by David Alan Black and David S. Dockery. Nashville, TN: B&H, 2001.

Burge, Gary M. “Interpreting the Gospel of John.” Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues. Edited by David Alan Black and David S. Dockery. Nashville, TN: B&H, 2001.

Buth, Randall. “Oun, De, Kai, and Asyndeton in John’s Gospel.” Linguistics and New Testament Interpretation: Essays on Discourse Analysis. Edited by David Alan Black, et al. Nashville, TN: Broadman, 1992.

Carson, Donald A. The Farewell Discourse and Final Prayer of Jesus: An Exposition of John 14:-17. 1980. Repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1988.

—-. The Gospel According to John. PNTC. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1991.

DeMoss, Matthew S. Pocket Dictionary for the Study of New Testament Greek.Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2001.

Dodd, C. H. The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel. New York, NY: Cambridge at the University Press, 1965.

Evans, Craig A. Word and Glory: On the Exegetical and Theological Background of John’s Prologue. JSNT Supplement 89. Library of New Testament Studies. England: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993.

Hewitt, James Allen. New Testament Greek: A Beginning and Intermediate Grammar. 1986. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2004.

Hurtado, Larry W. “Gospel (Genre).” Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels. Edited by Joel B. Green, et al. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1992.

Köstenberger, Andreas J. The Missions of Jesus and the Disciples According to the Fourth Gospel: With Implications for the Fourth Gospel’s Purpose and the Mission of the Contemporary Church. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998.

(L&N) Louw, Johannes P., and Eugene Albert Nida. Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament: Based on Semantic Domains. 2d edition. New York: United Bible Societies, 1996.

Lutkemeyer, Lawrence J. “The Role of the Paraclete (John 16:7-15).” CBQ 8.2 (April 1946): 220-29.

Metzger, Bruce M. A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, 2d edition. 1994. Repr., Stuttgart, Germany: German Bible Society, 2001.

Moloney, Francis J. The Gospel of John. SP 4. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1998.

Morris, Leon. The Gospel According to John. Revised edition. NICNT. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1995.

Porter, Stanley E. Idioms of the Greek New Testament. 2d edition. London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2005.

Robertson, Archibald T., and W. Hersey Davis. A New Short Grammar of the Greek Testament. 10th ed. 1958. Repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1979.

Spicq, Ceslas. “dóxa, doxádzō, sundoxádzō.” Theological Lexicon of the New Testament, Translated by James D. Ernest. 1994. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996.

Staley, Jeff. “The Structure of John’s Prologue: Its Implications for the Gospel’s Narrative Structure.” CBQ 48.2 (April 1986): 241-63.

“Testimony of the Twelve Patriarchs.” Ante-Nicene Fathers. Vol. 8. American Edition. Edited by Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson. 1886. Repr., New York, NY: Scribner’s, 1903.

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

Whitacre, Rodney A. John. IVPNTC. Edited by Grant Osborne, et al. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1999.

The Gospel of Luke

On By Jovan PayesIn Articles, Gospel, Gospel Advocate, Introduction, Jesus Studies, Luke, New Testament, New Testament Canon

Reprinted with permission from the July 2017 issue of Gospel Advocate Magazine.

20170626_144252.jpgThe Gospel of Luke, like Matthew, Mark, and John, provides a narrative of Jesus that dramatically emphasizes the story and significance of His life and ministry, His rejection and crucifixion, and His resurrection and exaltation. Yet, despite bearing strong similarities with the other inspired accounts, Luke’s approach expands our understanding of Jesus and the working out of God’s plan to bring salvation into the Jewish and Gentile world.

In fact, Luke is the first book of a two-volume set. Luke and Acts are joined at the proverbial hip by their prologues styled in the manner of ancient historical accounts (Luke 1:1-4; Acts 1:1-3). If one is to truly appreciate Luke, one must understand that the ministry of Jesus is but a beginning —a prelude— to the establishment and expansion of the church. Luke is the only Gospel Account that has a sequel (i.e., Acts). Said another way, in relation to Acts, Luke is a prequel. From this broad perspective, then, we can see that Luke purposefully expanded the stories of Jesus’ ministry to include more genuine details, to provide unique emphases, and to show that the ascension was not the end of the redemption story but that it was to be continued by the church.

The Prologue and Purpose

When one pauses to appreciate how each gospel accounts begins, Luke’s prologue to “book one” is set with a series of unique features. In Luke 1:1-4, the inspired text reads in such a way that the reader should see early on that this account is framed along different lines than previous accounts:

Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things that have been accomplished among us, just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word have delivered them to us, it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, that you may have certainty concerning the things you have been taught. (ESV)

This one sentence in the Greek outlines very clearly the overarching concern of Luke’s gospel account, and it does so in a formal way consistent with ancient Greek historians and medical writers according to Graham N. Stanton in his classic work, The Gospels and Jesus.[1]

Here, Luke acknowledged the presence of other narratives preexisting his own account (Gk. diégesin). Despite their existence, it appeared to be the right time to provide his own inspired account. Luke told us explicitly that his gospel is in keeping with three aspects of early Christian testimony: (1) these preexisting accounts, (2) earliest eyewitness testimony, and (3) those who served to deliver the Word to the world. To be clear, Matthew, Mark, and John demonstrate to have the same concerns, but regarding emphasis, Luke’s account is the clearest. And this feature is most likely due to the sort of audience he seeks to reach —that is, people like Theophilus who are interested in the certainty of the events of Jesus’ life and ministry, death and resurrection, and the progress of those who followed Him afterward.

Luke’s Author and Audience

Two more unique feature of Luke is seen in both its author and its recipient, and this speaks to Luke’s heavy emphasis on providing a closely followed and orderly account. Luke, a physician by profession (Col 4:14), is the only known gentile author in Scripture period. That alone is a spectacular fulfillment of the end goal of the gospel to reach the Jews first, and then to the Gentiles (Rom 1:16; Acts 1:8, 13:46-48). Accordingly, Luke became a participant in the work of the Apostle Paul at some point before entering the province of Macedonia (Acts 16:10). Luke includes himself in many of the journeys of Paul, marking them with the terms “we” and “our” or “us” (Acts 16:10-17, 20:5-15, 21:1-18, 27:1-37, 28:1-16).

These “we” sections tell us something very rich about Luke. He is not just an author. Luke was a collaborator and eyewitness of the continuing story of the redemption in the church, who then investigated the origins and narratives regarding Jesus by interacting with eyewitnesses and early teaching of the Word. Luke was a Gentile convert who joined Paul’s missionary fellow workers, and now offered an inspired history of the full gospel story. For this reason, Luke bears many similarities with Matthew and Mark, gospel accounts based upon eyewitness testimony. And, the book of Luke shows that his missionary itinerary screeches to a halt in Jerusalem when Paul is arrested in the Temple and after meeting with James the brother of Jesus (Acts 21:17). It is within reason to point out that Luke had over two years in the Judean region to collect eyewitness accounts while Paul is detained in Caesarea, Philippi, until Paul appealed to Caesar (Acts 21:1-26:32). 

Moreover, unlike Matthew, Mark, and John, Luke names the immediate recipient of his two-volume work, Theophilus (Acts 1:1; Luke 1:1). Many theories and speculations abound regarding the nature of the relationship Theophilus had with Christianity in general and Luke in particular. While his name means “lover of God” or “friend of God,” this was not uncommon in the ancient world, nor in the New Testament (cf. Diotrephes, “nourished by Zeus,” 3 John 9). So, it is not as reasonable as one might think to suggest it is a “code name” for a believer.

What helps our understanding of Theophilus’s connection to Luke is the way he was honored with the term “most excellent” (Gk. kratiste). The word is used four times in the New Testament and all by Luke (Luke 1:3; Acts 23:26, 24:2, 26:25). In Acts, it used when addressing the governors Felix and Festus respectively. In Luke 1:3, there is not enough evidence to suggest such a political status, but it points to, at minimum, the upper-class status of Theophilus and his social circle. This would not be the first time Christianity intersected this social sphere (Romans 16:1-2; Acts 13:1; Philippians 4:22). Thus, Luke’s audience is probably of the intellectual kind, and this fits with his stated purpose and the “better” Greek he used.

It is not surprising then, given Luke’s research and experience, his relationship to Theophilus, and his social circles, that Luke would “write an orderly account for you… that you may have certainty concerning the things you have been taught” (Luke 1:3-4). Luke promises that he is framing his account with an attention to detail —that is, with a strong historical emphasis.

Luke’s Unique Framework

Not a lot of disagreement exists concerning the general outline of Luke. The narrative is relatively straightforward. The following outline of Luke not only provides a survey of the book, but also points out the unique features of this gospel. The Gospel of Luke cannot be understood a part from an emphasis upon the intertwining of history and faith.

Book One: Prologue (1:1-4). As emphasized thus far, Luke begins with a prologue all its own. Like John 20:31, Luke 1:1-4 states the purpose of his Gospel. This is reinforced by Acts 1:1-3, which summarizes that Luke is but the beginning story of “all that Jesus began to do and teach.” There is more to the story of Jesus, and Luke provides a detailed account of it.

Birth Narratives of John and Jesus (1:5-2:52). It is not without significance that Luke provides interwoven birth and youth narratives of John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth. Matthew recounts elements of the nativity story during the period of Herod the Great as does Luke. Luke intertwines divine events surrounding John and his family, and Jesus and Mary, anchoring them to real life with the historical lead in “in the days of Herod, king of Judea” (Luke 1:5) and “in those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus” (2:1). Such passages like Mary’s magnificat (1:46-55) and the two stories of Jesus in the temple (2:22-52) are recorded only here.

Anticipating the Ministry of Jesus (3:1-4:13). Among the “time stamps” Luke employs, 3:1-2 is layered with seven political figures that suggest a window from 27 to 29 for the beginning of the ministries of John the Baptist and the Lord. The intertwining of their stories continue, as John is set up as the voice to anticipate the coming of the “salvation of God” —Jesus (v. 6). Jesus is again anchored to not just history but biblical history and creation itself, as His genealogy begins with his adoptive father’s lineage down to Adam, “the son of God” (3:38), the phrase Jesus would identify with (1:35, 4:3, 9, 41, 20:36, 22:70; Acts 9:20). These are significant unique elements of Luke.

Jesus Ministers in Galilee (4:14-9:50). If one were to read Mark, this section would have many similar events recorded, but Luke expands on them or gives them a fresh twist. One event that is of particular importance for its uniqueness is Jesus reading the Isaiah scroll (Luke 4:17-21; Isaiah 61) in the synagogue, during which He not only declared its fulfillment in Himself, but also revealed what His ministry would look like. It will be a series of reversals (blind see, captives free, etc.). Jesus’ concern for the disenfranchised is witnessed in all the Gospel Accounts, but Luke strongly emphasizes it.

Jesus Travels to Jerusalem (9:51-19:44). This section is often called the “central section” of Luke as it roughly covers ten of its twenty-four chapters. Jesus has “set his face to go to Jerusalem” in anticipation of being “taken up” (9:51). It is unique in that Luke is the only gospel account to record Jesus’ travel route on the eastern side of the Jordan River. It contains some of the most memorable events (rejection in Samaria, the seventy-two sent), parables (Good Samaritan, the Rich Fool, Prodigal Son, Rich Man and Lazarus), encounters (Mary and Martha), and sayings of our Lord (return of the unclean spirit, sign of Jonah). This section is bursting with teaching and events unique among the gospel accounts.

The Passion Week in Jerusalem (19:45-21:38). Here, Luke recounts a series of controversial events leading up to his betrayal and rejection. One immediately sees the unity between the way Matthew, Mark, and Luke chronicle the “passion week.” This includes the challenge of Jesus’ authority, paying taxes to Caesar, the resurrection, the question regarding the lordship of Christ, and the prediction of the destruction of the temple in AD 70. The section concludes with a summary statement.

From Shame to Exaltation (22:1-24:53). One of the unique elements in this section is the portrayal of the institution of the Lord’s Supper and the cup-bread-cup scenario. It is not that Luke makes a mistake here, but that it perhaps reflects the practice of having four cups employed during the Passover. Another unique feature of this section is in the resurrection appearances —in particular, on the road to Emmaus where two disciples find a Jesus “in hiding.” They recount this event along with their sense of a loss of hope until they connect the dots that this was Jesus. These are the details that provide a sense of uniqueness of Luke’s gospel.

Conclusion

Luke, along with Acts, were probably published and sent to Theophilus around AD 70. Acts ends with Paul under house arrest for two years in Rome, awaiting his case to be heard by Caesar (Acts 28:30-31). This is a few years before his death, which is traditionally dated to the time of Nero (AD 54-68; Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 2.25.5). At the time of publication, we should picture Luke as a veteran evangelist, an experienced missionary who has researched the ancient origins of the faith. He was addressing those engaged by the story of Jesus who wish more details and certainty. His inspired record, then, is offered as a powerful demonstration of the historical basis of the claims of Christianity.

Endnotes

  1. Graham N. Stanton, The Gospel and Jesus, eds. Peter R. Ackroyd and Graham N. Stanton (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989), 83.

Jovan Payes preaches for the Highland Church of Christ in Bakersfield, California.

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Regarding the Divide Between the Christ of Faith and the Jesus of History

On By Jovan PayesIn 2017, Christian Apologetics, Freed-Hardeman University, Graduate Work, Jesus Studies, New Testament, Research Papers, Technical Studies, Theology1 Comment
college papers

There is a long-standing view that an impassible divide exists between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith. This paper is about crossing this epistemic divide centered on what can be known about Jesus. Many scholars believe this divide cannot be bridged, but this paper argues that it can. This challenge reminds me of two cautionary tales.

Growing up in San Francisco, I was surrounded by bridges. Traveling northbound from the San Francisco peninsula, one crosses the Golden Gate Straight by virtue of the world-famous Golden Gate Bridge. Traveling eastbound, out of “the city,” there is the less famous double-stacked Oakland Bay Bridge, which is the workhorse among the Bay Area bridges. There are two events connected to these bridges that have taught me two relevant lessons.

First, few know that many said the Golden Gate straight could not be bridged. In fact, engineering experts said a bridge would never be built because the straight was too long, the winds were too strong, the waters would be a nightmare for construction, and the fog would further hamper the process. Yet, four years of construction (1933-1937) later, the impossible expanse was built. Sometimes, the naysayers give you the planks upon which to build your bridge.

Second, during the 6.9m 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, a large section of the top-level (outbound) of the Bay Bridge collapsed. I watched, on a small battery-powered radio/tv, a news report of a vehicle attempting to jump the divide, only to fail tragically. The vehicle had no ability to jump the gap. I learned that day that hope is not enough to cross a wide gap. We must evaluate the evidence to “look before we leap.”

Christianity and the Impassable Divide

These anecdotes inspire me to challenge the so-called “impassable” ditch at hand. It is not a small challenge, for the claim has been made by some of the sharpest minds in “thinking” history. It is, nevertheless, part of the calling of every Christian to be “prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you” (1 Pet 3:15 ESV).[1] Peter was aware that Christians will be called upon to explain the connection between their behavior and their conviction in Jesus as Lord (1 Pet 4:1-5). Life and faith converge in Jesus. What some would argue is an impassable gulf -reality and value/significance- was the connective tissues of a Christian ethical apologetic. It may be argued, then, that first-century Christians were already crossing the “impassable” bridge between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith.

Peter anticipated no epistemic difficulty -no crisis- explaining how “Jesus as Lord” connects with significance to the everyday issues of his life and his future. Accordingly, this early text assumes that the full identity of Jesus held an immediate significance to the lives of struggling Christians. It is the result of both his historic existence and his spiritual Lordship viewed as one tightly interwoven reality. This “interwoven reality” is not, however, the view of many within the academic circles of biblical and philosophical criticism.

This issue at hand is multifaceted and complicated, but it is not insurmountable nor impassable. One must evaluate the evidence and acknowledge the complexity of the problem at hand in order to offer a solution. For instance, there is a large time-gap between today and the first-century. This raises a lot of genuine historical questions all by itself concerning sources which provide any measure of access to Jesus. Further, those ancient sources must be evaluated to test their genuineness to weigh their authenticity and accuracy to verify if they are primary or secondary sources, literary or non-literary sources. These and many other questions are used to evaluate ancient sources that allow the historian to reconstruct a probable and revisable picture of the ancient past. If the current matter were simply an issue regarding sources, then there are numerous literary sources from the first-century which point to Jesus, the events and personalities surrounding his ministry, his death, and the belief and practices of early Christians. Many have discussed and debated these sources,[2] but the tension at hand focuses on a level a bit “deeper” than literary sources (though they will be considered).

At its core, the problem at hand is epistemic; that is, it centers on “how” knowledge is obtained, how knowledge connects the self “within” (internal) to the world “without” (external).[3] David Lipe briefly summarizes it as, “the study of the origin, nature, extent and reliability of knowledge.”[4] Vergilius Ferm points out that epistemology seeks to answer the following questions:

What is the source of human knowledge? What are its limitations? How do we come by our knowledge of the external world, of ourselves, of others? How can we trust our ideas as valid?[5]

“Epistemology,” in Twentieth Century Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, ed. Lefferts A. Loetscher (Baker Books, 1955)

Schools of thought, such as empiricism and rationalism, and the debates which they create have formed the basis of the dichotomy that pits the “historical Jesus” against the Christ faith-claim. In particular, with rationalism (Decartes, Spinoza, Leibniz), mind (a priori) is regarded as being given authority/primacy over the senses (a posteriori); that is, a priori knowledge is superior to a posteriori knowledge. Conclusions drawn would be deductively reasoned knowledge such as Aristotle’s “laws of thought.” On the other hand, empiricism (Locke, Berkeley, Hume) approaches knowledge from the other direction -the senses/experience; that is, a posteriori knowledge is regarded superior to a priori knowledge. This would be inductively experienced knowledge grounded in life.[6]

Enter Immanuel Kan (1724-1804). In the late eighteenth century, Kant would attempt to split the difference by attempting to synthesize and hold both in tension. That is, we can know “how” we know something, but the knowledge is completely subjective. Knowledge is only a perception, a “representation,” and not actually real to life (the thing in-itself).[7] Kant develops the thought this way:

all our intuition is nothing but the representation of appearance; that the things that we intuit are not in themselves what we intuit them to be, nor are their relations so constituted in themselves as they appear to us; and that if we remove our own subject or even only the subjective constitution of the senses in general, then all constitution, all relations of objects in space and time, indeed space and time themselves would disappear, and as appearances they cannot exist in themselves, but only in us. What may be the case with objects in themselves and abstracted from all this receptivity of our sensibility remains entirely unknown to us.[8]

Michael Rohlf, “Immanuel Kant,” https://plato.stanford.edu/index.html

Yet, as Norman Geisler points out, Kant’s epistemology results into a self-defeating “philosophical agnosticism.”[9] Attempts like these to explain how we obtain knowledge is at the core of the so-called impassable gulf between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith.

The Contours of the Impassable Divide

This debate fundamentally represents the struggle between connecting the tangible to the intangible, life and significance, the historic and the historical. In addition to a number of certain epistemic concerns, the divide is infused with an anti-supernatural bias which has manifested in at least five forms.[10] They are summarized briefly here, with the danger of oversimplification:

  • Gotthold E. Lessing (1729-1781) argued that there is an “ugly ditch” between historical contingent truths and the eternal necessary truths. His “ugly ditch” language has essentially framed the whole conversation.
  • Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) argued that there is a gulf between facts (contingent truths) and values (experience/reasons) that cannot be bridged but by faith (not knowledge).
  • Martin Kähler (1835-1912) expressed his concern for a reconstructed (historical) Jesus that must be mediated by the trained hands of critical scholarship. Kähler affirmed an impassable divide between the historical (reconstructed) Jesus and the historic (real) Jesus that cannot be cross unless by faith evoked by the historic Jesus. 
  • Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) viewed that the “historical” has no connection to the eternal, so real history is immaterial to the “leap of faith” toward the spiritual/eternal.
  • Rudolph Bultmann (1884-1976), argued that Jesus —as built on untrustworthy sources (Christian testimony, myths, and legends)— is not relevant for faith nor spiritual truth claims. It is the symbolism that matters at an existential level, that is, the meaning intended by such “sources.”

These all reflect a gap, a ditch, a divide, for which it is claimed that they cannot be bridged. It will be, then, the approach of this paper to first briefly critique the arguments for this impassable gap. Then, attention will be given to ancient sources, both within the New Testament canon and outside the New Testament canon to demonstrate that history and value claims must be intertwined to make sense of evidence. From this, provisional conclusions will be made that are reasonable and consistent with this evidence.

Critique of the Impassable Gap of the Historical Quest

The problem with the arguments used to articulate the dichotomy of the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith are typically self-defeating and beg the question at the methodological level. The “gap” issue significantly touches on the crux of the quest for historical Jesus. Albert Schweitzer (1875-1965) points to Lessing’s publication of Herman S. Reimarus’ Fragments in which Reimarus separates what the apostles said about Jesus from what Jesus said about himself.[11] Since Schweitzer, the publication of Fragments has been viewed as the early stages of the quest for the historical Jesus.

Gotthold E. Lessing

Reimarus influenced Lessing, and who in turn, affirmed a tension between the relationship of history and revelation. Lessing states this as “the ugly broad ditch”; namely, “accidental truths of history can never become the proof of necessary truths of reason [and revelation].”[12] For Lessing, a Spinozan pantheistic deist, there is no supernaturalism in the world. So, events are fortuitous (accidental) and have no meaning/significance of themselves. Why, because like Spinoza, Lessing argues that since God is immanent and extends throughout creation, he naturally governs the world with its unbreakable natural law. Accordingly, supernatural activity (miracles, providence, etc) is impossible because to do so would violate his own nature as expressed in natural law. Thus, miracles are impossible and God does not reveal himself in history. Thus, Jesus the real-person (a posteriori) is not associated with the faith-truth as the Christ (a priori) by definition. In fact, no religious claim can be absolutely true.

Lessing’s argument, however, presumes that “natural law” is inflexible. A further problem in Lessing’s epistemology is its self-defeating agnosticism that not only arbitrarily forces a divide between history and truth. For, in order to make the observation (a posteriori) that history and value (a priori) are detached from one another, Lessing must make an absolute value statement based on how history and value relate to each other historically. So, Lessing is doing what his thesis says is impossible to do: to intertwine history and evaluative judgments.

Immanuel Kant

This is essentially the same fundamental flaw in Immanuel Kant’s agnosticism (that he knows that one can perceive but not know a thing in itself). Again, Kant says,

We are acquainted with nothing except our way of perceiving them, which is peculiar to us, and which therefore does not necessarily pertain to every being, though to be sure it pertains to every human being.[13]

Quoted in Rohlf, “Immanuel Kant.”

People only know what they think they know, and what they know is not necessarily true “in itself.” This is the tension of his contradictions (“antinomies”) which, therefore, force him to reject a priori (and ontologically) arguments for believing a thing to be true in itself. For example, what is logically necessary, is not actually necessary.[14] Consequently, the Bible is not the result of God adapting to human finiteness (which is logically necessary) but is instead a book of mythology. It is not actually necessary that the Bible be from God, and such a truth claim is only a perception. Instead, what has more logical value and tangible significance to Kant is one’s duty to their neighbor.[15] Thus, the events of Jesus portrayed in the Gospels, then, is a subjective statement of a spiritual truth-claim that Jesus is the Christ of faith.

In order for Kant to make this claim (that we only know perceptions, no what is real in-itself), he is must make an absolute truth (a priori) claim in a world that he has argued can only be perceived in a subjective manner. Kant self-defeats himself by crossing the divine he denies is possible cross. Would not the argument, “I know for certain that it is impossible to know a thing in itself” argue that Kant knows this as a historical truth claim in itself? Kant derails himself.

Søren Kierkegaard

Kierkegaard argued for a dichotomy which “real history” is unimportant to faith, or rather, that it is impossible to move from the historical toward the spiritual. Kierkegaard finds no causation between a historical event and meaning (its value, or truth). In fact, this is his great paradox when it comes to truth claims since human knowledge is unable to have certainty about meaning and significance. Thus, for example, spiritual truth is beyond human rationality. For Kierkegaard seeking how to explain or understand the nature of God, one enters a paradox/contradiction. The act to explain the nature of God, is in effect, to limit a full understanding of God. To be certain about something is to limit what can be known about something.

In this sense faith —in particular, Christian faith— is a different beast altogether, for it carries within it a built-in certainty to its truth claims. In Kierkegaard’s view, it is purely nonsense that by understanding what happens in history (Jesus of history), one can obtain knowledge of the contradiction — the non-historical (Jesus of faith). Therefore, fact and history are not as important to Kierkegaard as the “leap of faith.” The problem is, as Geisler sums up, “while the historical as such does not bring one into contact wth the eternal, neither can the eternal be divorced from real history.”[16] Yet, Kiekergaard’s case proves too much on this point, for “the shift in emphasis from fact to value leads to the denial of fact and its support of faith.” It is not that all of his observations are to be dismissed, but he undermines the role of fact to understand value-claims.

Martin Kähler

Martin Kähler, who builds on Kant, also voiced his concern that the “real Christ” is not the Christ of Faith. This point is easily misunderstood. Kähler rightly argued that historical research should inform faith, so he was loved by liberals but hated by conservatives. Kähler also rejected attempts to separate the Jesus of history from the Christ of faith and was loved by conservatives and hated by liberals. He served, therefore, as a middle ground historical critic, who was “loved” and “hated” by conservative and liberals but for different reasons. Kähler coined the phrases “historical Jesus” (historische) and “historic Jesus” (geschichtliche), yet what he meant by the terms is not how most employ the term today. The “historical Jesus,” according to Kähler is a reconstructed Jesus based on scholarship which may, or may not correspond to the “historic Jesus” — that is, the real-life Jesus. Kähler took issue with equation the two.[17]

It came down to two problems. First, there is limited knowledge, or the lack thereof, to sufficiently “reconstruct” Jesus. Second, believers are at the mercy of the “fluid results” of scholarly reconstructions about Jesus. Jesus was, therefore, mediated by the elite scholars. For this reason, Kähler declares, “the real Christ, that is, the influential Christ, with whom millions in history have had fellowship in a childlike faith… is the preached Christ.”[18] The proclaimed Christ solved this problem. For this reason, Kähler made a distinction between the “historical Jesus” from the “historic Jesus.”

The line he draws on this point, between the two, is too strong and undermines the fact that the New Testament builds its case upon sources which are built on eyewitness accounts (Luke 1:1-4; Acts 1:1-3). Even if one were to argue that there is a minimal amount of authentic evidential sources about Jesus, then to that degree a faithful reconstruction of the historic Jesus can be made and understood. Which in many respects is the case for everything that could be said about Jesus of Nazareth has not been recorded (John 20:30; 21:25).

Rudolf Bultmann

One of the most significant contributors to the dichotomy of the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith is Bultmann. Bultmann’s significance for New Testament criticism and theology are, according to Ricard N. Soulen and R. Kendall Soulen, equaled by few and excelled by none in the areas of form-criticism and the practice of demythologizing the New Testament.[19] Working on his form-critical methodology, Bultmann differentiated between the sayings of Jesus and the deeds of Jesus (e.g. Reimarus), between the pre-scientific worldview of Jesus’ day and today, and the fact that to accept this worldview would be to sacrifice one’s intellect. Thus, he argued for a non-historical symbolism based upon kerygmatic (proclamation) themes.

What matters from the New Testament point of view, he argued, are the transcendent truths of faith (existential meaning). Thus, the resurrection “myth” did not happen, but what matters is the transcendent truth the “resurrection” is suppose to provide.[20] However, form-criticism, when properly applied is about finding genres and even sub-genres of types of literature within a text(s). It is not inherently anti-supernatural as Bultmann wielded it. In one way, it is a tool for genre classification. In another, it provides the framework for what tools an exegete may require for interpretation.[21]

Yet, Bultmann infused his approach with a naturalism which rejects the supernatural by definition. Consequently, at the methodological level, Bultmann begs the question that miracles are not possible and builds an interpretive framework in which miracles do not make sense. However, if one employs a theistic worldview that leaves the possibility open that miracles are possible,[22] then Bultmann’s approach would not have created his mythological approach to understanding Jesus, which his student Ernst Kasemann viewed as docetic.

Ancient Sources on Jesus of Nazareth

Turning now to consider sources within the New Testament canon and those outside the New Testament canon. The New Testament documents clearly emphasize a concern for and establish the historical underpinnings of the gospel message. It is the presentation of Jesus as a historic, and not mythic, figure which leads Edward M. Blaiklock to affirm that “Christianity triumphed over its most serious opponent, the soldiers’ worship of the soldierly Mithras, largely because Christianity could oppose to the legendary Mithras the historical reality of Christ.”[23]

Canonical Christian Sources

Broadly, though, there are three tests of historicity, according to James P. Moreland, that establish that New Testament documents are “as reliable as, superior to, most other ancient documents.”[24] These general tests are: bibliographical tests, internal tests, and external tests.

First, is the bibliographical test, which establishes the number of extant manuscripts and how far removed they are from the originals. In the case of the New Testament documents, the extant Greek manuscript copies exceed 5,000 (not including quotations, ancient translation, lectionaries), in fragmentary or complete form, many of which are from the second-century. In this regard, the New Testament is the most attested document of the ancient world.[25]

Second, the internal tests evaluate any claims of representing eyewitness history. The Gospel accounts and Acts reflect eyewitness testimony (Luke 1:1-4; 3:1-2; ). Luke tells us explicitly that his Gospel is in keeping with three aspects of early Christian testimony: preexisting accounts, earliest eyewitness testimony, and those who served to deliver the Word to the world. Moreover, Luke chronicles his involvement as a collaborator with Paul (Acts 16:10-17, 20:5-15, 21:1-18, 27:1-38, 28:1-10). The letters reflect personal encounters with Jesus (1 John 1:1-4; 2 Pet 1:16-17; 1 Cor 9:1; 15:1-11), or with those close to first-generation disciples of Jesus (Gal 1:18-19; 2:1-14).

Third, the external test verifies if there is material evidence to confirm the reliability of the document. Edwin M. Yamauchi demonstrates that despite a long-standing skepticism against the historicity of New Testament, there are numerous significant and “insignificant” confirmation of the social, political, and geographical background of the New Testament and demonstrates the literary source to be reliable.[26] One instance may illustrate these observations. In Acts 18:12-17,  Paul stands before the tribunal of the governor (proconsul) of Greece (Achaia), one L. Junius Gallio. There is an inscription was found from Delphi with Gallio’s name on it. Most likely it refers to his proconsulship during July 51 to July 52, which means Paul’s year-and-a-half stay began a year or so before this time (ca. 50-51).[27]

Non-Christian Sources

The other side of this issue is ancient testimony outside of the New Testament. Rudolf Bultmann belief that the quest for the historical Jesus lacked non-Christian sources. He ignored Christian sources specifically because they eyewitness documents which he believed inserted legendary and mythological elements, and therefore, cannot be trusted. While the extant sources are not all the kinds which a historian might like (legal documentation, birth records, etc.), what is available serve as independent literary reinforcement of that Jesus of History and Christ of faith are one interwoven as one figure.

E. M. Blaiklock surveys the sort of extant ancient sources available from the first-century. The majority of which are not focused on the region of Judea nor on history. In fact, he writes, “Bookends set a foot apart on this desk where I write would enclose the works from those significant years. Curiously, much of it comes from Spanish emigrants in Rome.”[28] Yet, what is available impressively corroborates with the historical framework of the New Testament and the significance they assert for Jesus of Nazareth.

Non-Christian sources, moreover, may be grouped into six categories of various weight and detail.[29] There are ancient historians (Tacitus, Suetonius, Josephus, Thallus), government official correspondence between (Pliny the Younger, Emperor Trajan, Emperor Hadrian), Jewish sources (Talmudic references to Jesus, Toledoth Jesu document), other Gentile sources which do not speak favorably of Christianity (Lucian, Mara Bar-Serapion), and gnostic sources (Gospel of Truth, Apocryphon of John, Treatise on Resurrection). The latter certainly have their theological slants, but they to point to Jesus as a historical figure.

Of these non-Christian sources, two sources will receive particular attention: first-century references to Jesus in the Roman historian Cornelius Tacitus (ca. AD 56-121) and Jewish historian Flavius Josephus (ca. AD 37-100).

Cornelius Tacitus

Tacitus was a Friend of Pliny and Suetonius. He began writing history in AD 98 with a volume about his father-in-law, Argicola, and another about Germany, Germania. Then early in the second-century, Tacitus published two more volumes, Histories (ca. AD 100-109) and Annals (ca. AD 109-116).[30] The Histories focus on the political troubles of Rome during A.D. 69-96, including the destruction of Jerusalem (Histories 5). The Annals chronicle the reign of Augustus to Nero (AD 14-68). In describing the depravity of the Caesars, Tacitus digresses with a note about the burning of Rome:

Consequently, to get rid of the report, Nero fastened the guilt and inflicted the most exquisite tortures on a class hated for their abominations, called Christians by the populace. Christus, from whom the name had its origin, suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilatus, and a most mischievous superstition, thus checked for the moment, again broke out not only in Judaea, the first source of the evil, but even in Rome, where all things hideous and shameful from every part of the world find their centre and become popular.[31]

(Annals 15.44)

Robert L. Wilken explains the usage of the term “superstition” (Lat. superstitio) in its common and familiar sense, “the term superstition referred to beliefs and practices that were foreign and strange to the Romans… that had penetrated the Roman world from surrounding lands.”[32] This is how Tacitus and other Romans felt about such groups.

More to the point, Tacitus is a Roman historian with no interest in proving Jesus existed; however, he knew the basic facts of his death as he “suffered the extreme penalty” and during the proper time frame and location while Pilate was procurator in Judea (AD 26–36).

Flavius Josephus

Flavius Josephus is a self-described first-century Pharisee and Jewish rebel during the early Jewish rebellion against Rome, who surrendered to Rome.[33] He wrote of the Jewish and Roman dynamics of the Jewish War provides a retelling of Jewish history in Antiquities of the Jews, an autobiography (Vita), and a defense of Judaism (Against Apion). There are three references in his works which are of interest, Antiquities 18:63-64, 18.116-119 and 20.200. The latter two are rather straightforward as they reference John the Baptist and James the brother of Jesus.

The first reference is Antiquities 18.116–117, in which John the Baptist is mentioned:

Now, some of the Jews thought that the destruction of Herod’s army came from God, and that very justly, as a punishment of what he did against John, that was called the Baptist; for Herod slew him, who was a good man, and commanded the Jews to exercise virtue, both as to righteousness towards one another, and piety towards God, and so to come to baptism; for that the washing [with water] would be acceptable to him, if they made use of it, not in order to the putting away [or the remission] of some sins [only], but for the purification of the body; supposing still that the soul was thoroughly purified beforehand by righteousness.

The reference is strikingly similar to the way the Gospel accounts outline the fate of John the Baptist (Mark 6:14-29).

The second reference is Antiquities 20.200, in which the Christian leader, James, is mentioned in passing as a digression to Josephus’s discussion of Ananus’s ambition to exercise his authority. Josephus mentions him as “the brother of Jesus, who was called Christ… James”:

Festus was now dead, and Albinus was put upon the road; so he assembled the Sanhedrin of judges, and brought before them the brother of Jesus, who was called Christ, whose name was James, and some others; and, when he had formed an accusation against them as breakers of the law, he delivered them to be stoned.

Jesus is James’s “famous” brother. The Gospel accounts describe Jesus as having siblings (Matt 13:55; Mark 6:3; John 6:42) and the apostle Paul acknowledged James as “the Lord’s brother” (Gal 1:19). Interestingly, Origen (ca. 184-253) comments on this reference, “though he [Josephus] did not accept Jesus as Christ, he yet gave testimony that the righteousness of James was so great” (Comm in Matt 10.17).[34]

The third reference, known as the Testimonium Flavianum (18:63-64), is complicated by Josephus’ favorable description of Jesus. The passage includes such descriptions of that question whether one should call Jesus “a man,” “he was [the] Christ,” “a doer of wonderful works,” “for he appeared to them [the disciples] alive again the third day,” and “as the divine prophets had foretold.” The textual strength of the passage is strong, but it appears to be out of balance with what is know about Josephus’s belief about Jesus (Origen above).

Origen, who appears knowledgeable of this material in Josephus, curiously does not seize upon the passage as it stands today. Eusebius appears to be the first ancient author to cite the testimonium in its present form (Ecclesiastical History 1.11).[35] James South argues, along with many scholars, that this passages is evidence of a tampering with the passage, the “culprit” most likely being an unknown Christian scribe.[36] The general approach, then, is to redact the passage to eliminate the positive language from the passage.[37] Like the following redaction of William Whiston’s translation:

Now, there was about this time, Jesus a wise man. He drew over to him both many of the Jews, and many of the Gentiles; and when Pilate, at the suggestion of the principal men amongst us, had condemned him to the cross, those that loved him at the first did not forsake him; and the tribe of Christians, so named from him, are not extinct at this day.

Nevertheless, historical scholarship agrees that Josephus said something about Jesus here. What is clear, though, is that Josephus, a premier historian of first-century Judea is fully aware of Jesus, as he is aware of Pilate, Herod, John the Baptist, and James.

Concluding Thoughts

A study like this needs to come to a sense of balance with regards to objectivity. Norman Geisler reminds that “if objective means, ‘a fair but revisable presentation that reasonable men and women should accept,’ then the door is open to the possibility of objectivity.”[38] The goal has been to cross the impassable epistemic gulf believed to exist between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith. It is believed that the goal has been reached. There are just a few general observations which should be made in conclusion. First, E. P. Sanders makes an important point and warning about sifting through the available sources concerning Jesus:

Ancient history is difficult. It requires above all common sense and a good feel for sources. Our sources contain information about Jesus, but we cannot get at it by dogmatically deciding that some sentences are completely accurate and some are fiction. The truth will usually lie somewhere in between. As I have already said more than once, and may repeat several more times, we have very good knowledge of Jesus at a somewhat general level. With regard to chronology, we know that he was active during some part of the period 26-36 C.E. It is wrongheaded to try to turn the gospels – and, for that matter, Josephus – into modern encyclopaedia [sic] articles, or to suppose that one sentence is dead right, and the others are completely wrong.[39]

Only when we seek to establish by the ancient evidence what can be established historically, then we are in the position to intertwine reliable history (a posteriori) and the significance (a priori) of the life of Jesus of Nazareth. The impossible bridge, then has been made. Second, despite the complexity of historic inquiry, a worldview and framework can be articulated that is objective and not be anti-supernatural.

Third, both Christian and non-Christian sources do provide evidence and information that is objective and informative regarding what was believed to have occurred by eyewitnesses and historians. Finally, at minimum here, it can be affirmed that historical evidence points to Jesus as a “wise man” who “drew over to him both many of the Jews, and many of the Gentiles,” died under the proconsulship of “Pilate” who was influenced by the “principal men” among the Jews to condemned Jesus “to the cross;” nevertheless, Jesus had disciples “that loved him at the first who did not forsake” and they are may thought of as “tribe of Christians… so named from him… [and] … are not extinct at this day.” Bridge toll paid.

Endnotes

  1. Unless otherwise stated all quotations are taken from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2001).
  2. Gary R. Habermas, The Historical Jesus: Ancient Evidence for the Life of Christ (Joplin, MO: College Press, 1996), 187–228; F. F. Bruce, Jesus and Christian Origins Outside the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1974); Edward M. Blaiklock, Jesus Christ: Man or Myth? (1974; repr. Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1984),19–31; Craig Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of the Gospels (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1987), 190–233; Graham N. Stanton, The Gospels and Jesus (Oxford: Oxford University, 1989), 139–49.
  3. C. Stephen Evans, Pocket Dictionary of Apologetics and Philosophy of Religion (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2002), 39–40.
  4. David L. Lipe, Values in Thought and Action (Henderson, TN: Hester Publications, 2001), 7.
  5. Vergilius Ferm, “Epistemology,” in Twentieth Century Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, ed. Lefferts A. Loetscher (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1955), 1:385.
  6. Ferm, “Epistemology,” 386.
  7. Michael Rohlf, “Immanuel Kant,” https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/kant/#TraIde.
  8. Rohlf, “Immanuel Kant.”
  9. Norman L. Geisler, Baker Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics (Grand Rapid, MI: Baker Books, 1999), 401–05.
  10. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 141–42.
  11. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 385–86
  12. Ricard N. Soulen and R. Kendall Soulen, Handbook of Biblical Criticism, 3rd ed. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2001), 102.
  13. Rohlf, “Immanuel Kant.”
  14. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 402.
  15. Lipe, Values, 78.
  16. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 409.
  17. Soulen and Soulen, Biblical Criticism, 92.
  18. Martin Kähler, “Martin Kähler on the Historical Jesus,” in The Christian Theology Reader, 2d ed., ed. Alister E. McGrath (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2001), 294.
  19. Soulen and Soulen, Biblical Criticism, 28, Evans, Apologetics and Philosophy, 18–19.
  20. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 517–18; Colin Brown, “Quest of Historical Jesus,” DJG 334–35.
  21. Stephen H. Travis, “Form Criticism,” in New Testament Interpretation: Essays on Principles and Methods, ed. I. Howard Marshall (1977; repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1979), 153–64.
  22. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 320–30.
  23. Blaiklock, Jesus Christ, 11.
  24. James P. Moreland, Scaling the Secular City: A Defense of Christianity (1987; repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1988), 133–57.
  25. Moreland, Scaling the Secular City, 135-37; Philip W. Comfort, Encountering the Manuscripts: An Introduction to New Testament Paleography and Textual Criticism (Nashville, TN: Broadman & Holman, 2005), 103–98.
  26. Edwin Yamauchi, “Archaeology and the New Testament,” in The Expositor’s Bible Commentary, ed. Frank E. Gæbelein (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1979), 1:647–69.
  27. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2003), 545-86; Mark Cartwright, “Corinth,” http://www.ancient.eu/corinth/.
  28. Blaiklock, Jesus Christ, 11-12; see, Wayne Jackson, “Jesus Christ: Myth or Genuine History,” https://www.christiancourier.com/articles/1061-jesus-christ-myth-or-genuine-history.
  29. Habermas, The Historical Jesus, 187–228; Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 381–85; James T. South, Just Jesus: The Evidence of History, Kindle ed. (Chillicothe, OH: DeWard Publications, 2012), loc. 237–555.
  30. Albert A. Bell, Exploring the New Testament World (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1998), 289.
  31. Tacitus, Annals 15.44. http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=urn:cts:latinLit:phi1351.phi005.perseus-eng1:15.44.
  32. Robert L. Wilken, The Christians as the Romans Saw Them (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1984), 50.
  33. Bell, New Testament World, 289.
  34. Origen, “Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew Book 10.” http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/101610.htm.
  35. Ken Olsen, “Eusebius Reading of the Testimonium Flavianum,” http://chs.harvard.edu/CHS/article/display/5871.
  36. South writes, “What we have here is likely a legitimate text from Josephus, in which he mentioned Jesus, but which has been re-worked by a Christian editor” (Just Jesus, loc. 318); Charles K. Barrett, New Testament Background: Selected Documents (1956; repr., New York, NY: Harper & Row, 1961), 198.
  37. Olsen, “Eusebius Reading of the Testimonium Flavianum”; Bruce, Jesus and Christian Origins, 39.
  38. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 320–30.
  39. E. P. Sanders, The Historical Figure of Jesus (repr. London: Penguin Books, 1995), 55–56.

Bibliography

Barrett, Charles K. New Testament Background: Selected Documents.1956. Repr., New York, NY: Harper & Row, 1961.

Bell, Albert A. Exploring the New Testament World. Nashville: Nelson, 1998.

Blackburn, Simon. Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy. 2d edition. Oxford: Oxford University, 2005.

Blaiklock, Edward M. Jesus Christ: Man or Myth? 1974. Repr., Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1984.

Blomberg, Craig. The Historical Reliability of the Gospel. Downers Grove, IL: InverVarsity, 1987.

Brown, Colin. “Quest of Historical Jesus.” DJG 326–41.

Bruce, Frederick F. Jesus and Christian Origins Outside the New Testament. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1974. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1974.

Bultmann, Rudolf. History of the Synoptic Tradition. Translated by John Marsh. Revised edition. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, n.d.

Comfort, Philip W. Encountering the Manuscripts: An Introduction to New Testament Paleography and Textual Criticism. Nashville, TN: Broadman & Holman, 2005.

Craig, William Lane. “‘Noli Me Tangere’: Why John Meier Won’t Touch the Risen Lord.” http://www.reasonablefaith.org/noli-me-tangere-why-john-meier-wont-touch-the-risen-lord.

Evans, C. Stephen. Pocket Dictionary of Apologetics and Philosophy of Religion. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2002.

Evans, Craig A. “Do the New Testament Gospels Present a Reliable Portrait of the Historical Jesus?” CTR n.s. 13.2 (Spring 2016): 17–26.

Farnell, F. David. “Three Searches for the ‘Historical Jesus’ but no Biblical Christ: The Rise of the Searches (Part 1).” Master’s Seminary Journal 23.1 (Spring 2012): 7–42.

Farnell, F. David. “Three Searches for the ‘Historical Jesus’ but no Biblical Christ (Part 2): Evangelical Participation in the Search for the ‘Historical Jesus.’” Master’s Seminary Journal 24.1 (Spring 2013): 25–67.

Ferguson, Everett. Backgrounds of Early Christianity. 3rd edition. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2003.

Ferm, Vergilius. “Epistemology.” Pages 385-87 in vol. 1 of Twentieth Century Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge. Edited by Lefferts A. Loetscher. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1955.

Geisler, Norman L. Baker Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics. Baker Reference Library. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1999.

Habermas, Gary R. The Historical Jesus: Ancient Evidence for the Life of Christ. Joplin, MO: College Press, 1996.

Habermas, Gary R. “The Minimal Facts Approach to the Resurrection of Jesus: The Role of Methodology as a Crucial Component in Establishing Historicity.” Southeastern Theological Review 3.1 (Sum 2012): 15–26. Repr., http://www.garyhabermas.com.

Jackson, Wayne. “Jesus Christ: Myth or Genuine.” https://www.christiancourier.com/articles/1061-jesus-christ-myth-or-genuine-history.

Jackson, Wayne. “The Nature of History.” https://www.christiancourier.com/articles/1332-nature-of-history-the.

Kähler, Martin. “Martin Kähler on the Historical Jesus.” Pages 292-95 in The Christian Theology Reader. 2d edition. Edited by Alister E. McGrath. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2001.

Lipe, David L. Values in Thought and Action. Henderson, TN: Hester Publications, 2001.

Moreland, James P. Scaling the Secular City: A Defense of Christianity. 1987. Repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1988.

Olsen, Ken. “Eusebius Reading of the Testimonium Flavianum.” http://chs.harvard.edu/CHS/article/display/5871.

Rohlf, Michael. “Immanuel Kant.” https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/kant.

Sanders, E. P. The Historical Figure of Jesus. New York, NY: Penguin Books, 1993.

Soulen, Richard N., and R. Kendall Soulen. Handbook of Biblical Criticism. 3rd edition. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2001.

South, James T. Just Jesus: The Evidence of History. Kindle edition. Chillicothe, OH: DeWard Publishing, 2012.

Stanton, Graham N. The Gospel and Jesus. Oxford Bible Series. Edited by Peter R. Ackroyd and Graham N. Stanton. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989.

Travis, Stephen H. “Form Criticism.” Pages 153-64 in New Testament Interpretation: Essays on Principles and Methods. Edited by I. Howard Marshall. 1977. Repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1979.

Wilken, Robert L. The Christians as the Romans Saw Them. New Haven, CT: Yale University, 1984.

Yamauchi, Edwin M. “Archaeology and the New Testament.” Pages 647–69 in vol. 1 of The Expositor’s Bible Commentary. Edited by Frank Gæbelein. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1979.

Book Review: Love Must Be Tough

On By Jovan PayesIn Articles, Book Reviews, Books, family, marriage, New Testament
Love must be tough

James C. Dobson, Love Must Be Tough: New Hope for Families in Crisis (1983; repr., Tyndale Momentum, 2007), hardback, 238 pages.

Dr. James Dobson (1936-) is a well known and established licensed psychologist (Ph.D., University of Southern California), who has addressed social and family issues from an evangelical perspective for about 40 years. He held a teaching post at USC’s School of Medicine as Associate Clinical Professor of Pediatrics and was on staff at the Children’s Hospital in Los Angeles for many years. And he served on a number government advisory panels and testified at several government hearings.[1]

Dr. Dobson is perhaps known more for the ministry network Focus on the Family he founded in 1977 through which he has provided a steady evangelical voice with regards to social issues on radio, television, print, and online. Since 2010, however, Dr. Dobson formally transitioned away from Focus on the Family and established another multi-media ministry venture, Dr. James Dobson’s Family Talk.

Love Must Be Tough to Save Families

The book under review, Love Must be Tough, is not a new contribution. Dr. Dobson wrote it in 1983 and because of its popularity, it is often reprinted. I read this book as part of a family ministry class. I found it to be an insightful and highly useful volume designed to provide a strategic proposal to help restore marriages struggling under the burden and crisis of marital infidelity. Dr. Dobson argues that his strategy strikes at the heart of the recovery from marital infidelity better than those provided by the then-current advice by counselors and literature.

What appears to be at the heart of the problem lies at a spouse’s passivity and allowance for the other spouse to have all the control in the relationship. This imbalance is subversive to the marriage. Dr. Nancy M. Rockstroh, M.D., who often recommends Love Must be Tough agrees:

when the balance of power switches so that one person has undue control, the potential for abuse of that power becomes imminent. Once individuals have the opportunity to do anything with the tacit acceptance of their partner, they have carte blanche to engage in destructive patterns of behavior without fear of losing the benefits of the relationship.[2]

Nancy Moultrie Rockstroh, “Love Must Be Tough: Proven Hope for Families in Crisis,” Primary Care Companion to the Journal of Clinical Psychiatry (2000)

It is not just theories or bad counseling which Dobson believes to be destructive and subversive to marital restoration. Marriage culture also is to blame, in particular, those which are so co-dependent that there is a loss of self-respect and the mutual respect which should exist within a marriage. Or, as Dobson argues, what marriages in crisis really need is the application of a simple principle: love must be tough.

Book Overview

Dr. Dobson develops his thesis by first showcasing the destructive nature of common approaches advised for reclaiming an unfaithful spouse. But, perhaps most instructive is the fact that he shares real experiences of infidelity and how the wounded spouse attempts to restore the marriage. According to Dobson, counselors tend to advise self-loathing, fault assuming, affair indulgent, and spiritually careless strategies. But even still further, wounded spouses often attempt to regain their unfaithful spouse through strategies (planned or not) that can be summed in the phrase: a complete lack of self-respect and identity (Panic, appeasement, etc).

This behavior must be stopped. Dobson argues strongly that this lack of self-respect and identity is a leading contributor for both the circumstances for a spouse to become unfaithful and for the pushing away of a cheating spouse. Dobson explains this character “defect” can be permissive as it “allows” flirtation with a potential lover, or it passively “allows” the spouse to continue dangerous relationships with a would-be lover. And once suspicion (or infidelity) occurs, the concerned spouse begins to tighten their grasp upon their beloved in order to keep them, but this often times pushes them farther away. The distrusted spouse feels caged and develops a need to escape. The spouse needs freedom. To further aggravate the situation, the worried partner who cannot feel complete without their spouse loses their individual identity and panics only to try to appease their unfaithful spouse. This behavior feels more like constrictions around the unfaithful spouse’s neck, and continue to fuel the desire for freedom (extramarital freedom).

Case upon actual case is rehearsed as testimonial evidence to support Dobson’s thesis that love must be tough. Consequently, if Dobson is right that popular counseling has it wrong in its strategic opinions, and that a consistent lack of self-respect and identity provide the stimulus for infidelity, then a new approach must be considered. Dobson argues therefore that the marriage relationship must include a number of applied principles. Despite the concept of “union” in marriage, each partner must exist with their sense of individuality intact, and each partner must be able to respect themselves. This sets forth the building blocks for a healthy sense of mutual accountability needed in a marriage that will allow it to thrive.

Thus, should signs of a potential extramarital affair begin to loom in the distance, a perceptive spouse can be grounded in their self-respect and identity, provide strong warnings set forth in love, self-respect, freedom, and independence (example: “I love you, but if you continue this course, then I will leave”). Spouses must be able to hold their ground, despite loving their spouse and not wishing them to depart. This “willingness to end a relationship,” says Dr. Rockstroh, “is the very essence of freedom and independence.”[3] Yet, this principle must be, according to Dobson, practiced with caution (see below).

Chapter 12 provides a timeline of eleven benchmarks showing how good marriages end in abandonment, adultery, divorce, and guilt. Side-by-side, the storyline of a husband and wife is unfolded. It shows how emotional starvation experienced by a loving spouse can lead to frustration and depression, only to work the heart into fertile soil for an extramarital affair. Preoccupations, such as work, only blind them of their beloved’s pain and that they too have contributed to this isolation. Eventually, an affair does ensue and is discovered. At this point, Dobson argues, the marriage can still be saved if both partners want to use “tough love” to regain themselves and restore their marriage. In this scenario that Dobson narrates, the cheating spouse leaves and a divorce is finalized. As in many cases which Dobson is aware of, at the end, the love affair turns mundane, the enabling but wounded spouse lives in ignorance of their contribution and the guilt for the children’s situation overshadows their heart.

Here Dobson makes one more appeal to confront misunderstandings that affect marital happiness. He appeals to the fact that culture essentially lies to our young ladies and young men in the aspect of who provides the happiness in the home. For the women, the lie is simple but devastating: “that marriage is a lifelong romantic experience.”[4] Moreover, the husband is entirely responsible for making this a reality; hence, women enter marriage with unrealistic expectations. And when these expectations are not met, it is her husband’s fault. For the men, the lie is relatively clear: “his only responsibility is to provide materially for his family.”[5] The love must be tough principle affirms individual responsibility for one’s happiness, and each spouse must play a role in creating marital happiness.

Of many of the valuable aspects of the book, is Dobson’s honesty that as much as the love must be tough principle is valuable and helpful, it can also be dangerously misapplied. The development of self-respect, individual identity, of creating a culture of freedom, of forgiveness, and many other traits can be so developed to the point where the wounded spouse uses them to destroy the marriage. For example, a person may become so independent that they want nothing to do with their spouse. Another spouse might defend their self-respect to the point where they become so outspoken that there is no mutual accountability. Dobson, therefore, warns against running wild with this strategy.

A Critique on Dobson’s Divorce and Remarriage View

There is no debate that Dr. Dobson’s book is valuable; however, his discussion on divorce and remarriage is perhaps the most egregious section in an otherwise well-developed book.[6] To Dobson’s credit, he inserts a disclaimer that he knows some Bible students will disagree with him. I register here as one who finds Dobson’s discussion of what constitutes a scriptural divorce and remarriage completely lacking biblical support.

Dobson affirms three matters to keep in mind in the discussion of divorce and remarriage. We agree with his discussion on what constitutes adultery in Matthew 19:9 so we will focus on the second passage discussed.

First, Dobson alleges that 2 Corinthians 5:17 sanctions the notion that it “includes divorce prior to salvation,” leading him to conclude:

when the marriage and divorce occurred prior to salvation, I believe God grants His “new creation” the freedom to remarry.[7]

James Dobson, Love Must Be Tough: New Hope for Families in Crisis (1983)

Dobson’s view hinges upon a phrase in this passage, namely “old things.” “Old things” as part of the “new creature” is typological imagery that supports the real emphasis of the verse, namely, that of a new creation. The person –not his/her marital situation– is made “new.” Paul had said previously to the Corinthian church that some of them had been adulterers (1 Cor 6:9-10) but not anymore because of their conversion (1 Cor 6:11). They changed their behavior. Conversion requires a change in behavior (Acts 2:38), it is not a simply a status change.

The third discussion Dobson enters is based upon a misrepresentation of 1 Corinthian 7:25-40. Dobson alleges that if a Christian is abandoned the believer has a right to remarry. Maybe there are other circumstances involved in the abandonment (i.e., adultery), but that is not discussed in this passage. Paul, however, argues that the abandoned spouse is not under an obligation -enslaved- to follow the departing spouse. The emphasis here is about fidelity to God’s sexual and marital laws (cf. 7:1ff). In fact, earlier in the passage Paul addresses “the married” and the potential of a legal separation,[8] to which he clearly gives two options: remain separated or be reconciled (1 Cor 7:10-11).

These are significant drawbacks from an otherwise really helpful book. I further understand that many would disagree with my critique of Dobson’s view. Still, neither conversion nor mere abandonment is biblical grounds for divorce and a subsequent remarriage.

Concluding Thoughts

In the final analysis, the book is generally sound and very helpful. But, because of the material on divorce and remarriage, I would recommend an alternative to sharing its articulation Dobson’s love must be tough strategy. Perhaps create a series of handouts (with due credit) with the strategies listed and illustrated. Or, recommendations to people well versed in the scriptural teachings on marriage, divorce, and remarriage. The material on self-worth and boundaries is the relevant and helpful element of Dobson’s work.

Dobson tackles a hard issue but the counsel he offers is advantageous. It is dated somewhat. For that reason, I would use Love Must Be Tough as a supplemental work to the more current volume by Henry Cloud and John Townsend, Boundaries in Marriage.[9] “Boundaries,” as Cloud and Townsend articulate, help to develop the issues Dobson is concerned with: a healthy sense of identity, personal responsibility, and mutual accountability. So, in the end, I offer a limited recommendation of Dobson’s book for the counselor and minister.

Endnotes

  1. “James Dobson,” Wikipedia.org.
  2. Nancy Moultrie Rockstroh, “Love Must Be Tough: Proven Hope for Families in Crisis,” Primary Care Companion to the Journal of Clinical Psychiatry 2.6 (Dec. 2000): 229.
  3. Rockstroh, “Love Must Be Tough.”
  4. James Dobson, Love Must Be Tough: New Hope for Families in Crisis (1983; repr., Waco, TX: Word, 1996), 176.
  5. Dobson, Love Must Be Tough, 176.
  6. Dobson, Love Must Be Tough, 129-33.
  7. Dobson, Love Must Be Tough, 130.
  8. It is documented by R. L. Roberts, Jr., very clearly that the passive phrase “to be separated” (Grk. choristhenai) in these verses is a “technical expression for divorce” as it exists in ancient legal documents before and during the apostolic era (“The Meaning of Chorizo and Douloo in 1 Corinthians 7:10-17,″ Restoration Quarterly 8.3 [1965]: 179-80). Consequently, those that only see a “separation” as we commonly conceive of it as temporary “space” between spouses are unreasonably limiting the meaning of this word here.
  9. Henry Cloud and John Townsend, Boundaries in Marriage (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1999).

The “Thorny Crown”

On By Jovan PayesIn Articles

Was Jesus’ crown of thorns a mockering in parody to the “radiate crowns” with spikey points which seem to ascribe divine qualities to a ruler? Larry Hurtado has a thought on that which is quite fetching.

larryhurtado's avatarLarry Hurtado's Blog

At our recent day-conference on ancient coinage, one speaker noted the depiction of rulers as wearing a “radiate crown,” a crown with spikey points that seems intended to ascribe the ruler with divine qualities.  You can see examples on coins here.

Many years ago, H. St. J. Hart proposed that the “thorny crown” placed on Jesus’ head by the Roman soldiers in the Gospels accounts was one made to mock Jesus more than particularly to inflict pain:  “The Crown of Thorns in John 19, 2-5,” Journal of Theological Studies n.s. 3 (1952): 66-75.  Hart’s article includes plates of coins depicting various forms of the radiant crown, and he explored also the types of plants whose spikey leaves may have been used for the crown placed on Jesus’ head.  Shortly thereafter, Campbell Bonner published an article giving further support to Hart’s proposal:  “The Crown of Thorns,” Harvard Theological Review 46 (1953): …

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Book Review: Exploring the New Testament World

On By Jovan PayesIn Articles, Book Reviews, Books, Early Christianity, Greco-Roman World, New Testament, New Testament Background, New Testament World, Roman Empire, Thomas Nelson
bell-the-new-testament-world-book-cover

Albert A. Bell, Jr., Exploring the New Testament World: An Illustrated Guide to the World of Jesus and the First Christians (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1998), paperback, 336 pages.

As a New Testament student, I have a deep interest in the social, cultural, political, and religious world from which my faith and these documents, in particular, have emerged. I always like books that help me better understand this world.

This review is focused on a popular volume from Dr. Albert A. Bell, Jr., who is current faculty and professor of history at Hope College in Holland, Michigan, which he joined in 1978. Bell is an eclectic author who has been published in academic circles (Jewish Quarterly, The Classical World, The Classical Journal), as well as being an accomplished mystery novelist, and fiction and non-fiction author.

One of Bell’s passions is the New Testament and its world, and in 1998, he published an expanded and revised edition of his Guide to the New Testament World (Herald Press, 1994) with Thomas Nelson Publishing under the title, Exploring the New Testament World (abbreviated here as ENTW). It is a fairly well-known volume, and over the course of nearly 20 years, is has served as a required textbook in various colleges and university settings.

I initially purchased this volume while an undergrad. I did so because I recognized the name on the “Foreward” by-line as the venerable Bruce M. Metzger. With his endorsement that Bell’s book was the new standard,[1] I ante-ed up and added this volume to my personal library. Since then, I have read chapters and sections here and there, using them in college papers, sermons, or for insight. But recently, I read the book cover to cover, as part of my graduate coursework covering the New Testament World.

The following is a brief survey of the book and some thoughts about its strengths and weaknesses. Here we go.

Survey of Exploring the New Testament World

Bell organizes ENTW to cover nine chapters. There are ten total chapters, plus two appendices (a glossary of ancient writers, genealogies of the Julio-Claudian Caesars, and the Herods), but in terms of NT world material, there are only nine sections. In the first chapter, Bell provides a straightforward argument explaining the importance of placing the NT writings and narratives within the context of the Greco-Roman world, and the importance of the ancient sources that inform students of this first-century world in order to provide an accurate picture of the ancient realities early Christians faced.

Chapter Two develops several important contours of first-century Judaism. It surveys the issues of Hellenism and its tensions within the Jewish community, the importance of oral traditions, the various sects of the Jews (Pharisees, Sadducees, Herodians, etc.), and some of the tensions between the Jesus movement and early Judaism.

Chapters three to nine cover the Greco-Roman world and its social, political, religious, and philosophical contours, and their impact and interaction with early Christianity. The chapters provide context and provide significant high points in each of these areas. The Roman political structure is introduced, along with the emergence of the Caesars, and how a little city-state managed an empire that includes Judea. The benefits and penalties of Roman law it was applied to citizens and non-citizens, to the aristocracy and the lower class, along with the government’s concern for subversion. A concern, the Christians easily could arouse.

The interests and concerns for religions and philosophies in the Greco-Roman world are much different than modern concerns, as one could be religiously pluralistic, but such flexibility was not held among the philosophies. Religion was not about relationships nor morality, per se, but about personal success and the appeasement of the gods. Philosophy was about framing the proper worldview for justice, truth, and reality, and building a lifestyle consistent with that philosophy (Epicureanism, Stoicism, the Cynics, etc.).

In the Greco-Roman world, status was everything, and even then, the social world was immanently connected (patronage, slavery, free classes). The NT language of dichotomy –slave or free, male or female, Jew or Greek, etc.– comes alive, when one appreciates the first-century world’s penchant for status. Moreover, the Roman concern for “property” is equally of value as it plays out in the social and family life of the Romans (pater familias). Finally, the volume closes with attention to the “approximate” view of time versus the modern obsession with millisecond accuracy view of time, the way distances were measured, and the various means and methods of traveling — and yes, they did sight-seeing and had vacations, and the “they” are typically the rich.

I could not agree more with Dr. David A. deSilva’s Logos.com review on ENTW, “this is a great point of entry into the NT world. It covers a great deal of ground in a short compass.” deSilva is no slouch when it comes to studying the NT world.

Strengths and Weaknesses

First, the strengths. Bell offers a volume that is not intended for the scholar, but for a “lay readership.” In fact, he clearly says, “I don’t assume anything on the part of the reader except an interest in the New Testament and an openness to exploration.”[2] So it strikes me odd that Andreas J. Köstenberger “roughs up” Bell regarding the concern for the “general reader” as being an example of “a lack of focus.”[3] That’s why I bought the book in the first place. Mission accomplished.

This is where Bell’s a folksy, novelist, writing style serves as a major asset and strength. Bell is fun to read. He provides common sense illustrations. He is not encumbered with “scholar speak.” The material covered in ENTW can be dry and dull, but Bell’s popular writing style really makes the materials appealing and memorable. Is that not the mark of a good teacher?

Clearly, “the most outstanding feature,” as Köstenberger states,[4] is the robust bibliographies at the end of each chapter which allow the emerging NT world student ample “next step” resources and direction for further study. Even though now 20 years old, the bibliographies are still helpful because many of the articles cited are still primary resources that must be consulted today anyways. I had thought about placing the “dated” bibliographies only in the weaknesses column, but they are still valuable.

Second, the weaknesses. I still have to list that while bibliographies in ENTW are excellent, there have been 20 years of research since 1998. This research may push an understanding of a Greco-Roman or Jewish phenomenon in different, more accurate directions. So, in light of newer contributions to understanding the New Testament World, Bell’s work is dated by comparison.[5] An updated revision would certainly be welcomed.

Bell’s knowledge of the Greco-Roman world is certainly evident but it comes at a cost. Bell is disproportionate in his treatment of the Greco-Roman world compared to his treatment of the Jewish world, demonstrated by seven chapters to one chapter on the Jewish milieu.[6] ENTW would certainly be a much larger and different book if Bell provided equal space.

Finally, there is a limitation built into ENTW. The volume is an introductory volume for a readership at the very beginning of the New Testament and background study. For this reason, many of his discussions need refinement.[7] Other topics Bell brings up are irrelevant or vaguely touch on New Testament background research, such as his inclusion of the Shroud of Turin.[8] It would seem this speaks to his intended audience, but this does suggest the limits of the volume.

Recommendations

I loved reading ENTW, but by the above tally, there are several strengths and weaknesses to consider. While I have profited from the book, I would agree that it should not bear the sole burden of the main textbook without supplements. As E. P. Sanders says, “Ancient history is difficult. It requires above all common sense and a good feel for sources.”[9] Still, Bell’s achievement is a resource that is easy to read, well researched, and it serves its purpose well to be a “point of entry” (daSilva). For being nearly twenty years old, the book has stood out well. It has accomplished its task.

In this vein, then, I would recommend ENTW to the average churchgoer and those new to reading the New Testament illuminated by understanding the world its documents emerged from. It would certainly provide illustrative help for teachers and preachers of the New Testament documents. And perhaps, in this segment of New Testament students, Bell’s work will still have much life and longevity.

If, however, we are thinking in terms of college reading then, if there is no revision in sight to update the discussions or to reassess its attention to the Jewish world, then either make ENTW supplemental reading, not the core (because it reads so easily) or replace it with a more complete and scholarly work like Everett Ferguson’s Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2003). Or, a blend of the two.

References

  1. Metzger’s “Foreword” begins like this, “Previous generations of students were instructed and entranced by T. R. Glover’s classic book, The World of the New Testament […] That book, now longer in print, will no be replaced for other generations of readers by the present volume written by Dr. Albert A. Bell, Jr.” (ix). That is a pretty intense opening line, and I experienced it like the opening word-crawl from Star Wars.
  2. Bell, Exploring, xii.
  3. Andreas J. Köstenberger, “Exploring the New Testament World. Albert A. Bell, Jr. Nashville; Nelson, 1998, xiv + 322 pp., $14.99,” JETS 42.4 (Dec 1999): 754.
  4. Köstenberger, “Exploring,” 754.
  5. Newer resources like Joel B. Green and Lee Martin McDonald, eds., The World of the New Testament: Social, Cultural, and Historical Contexts (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2013) would certainly have “fresher” insights.
  6. Köstenberger, “This may reflect more the author’s area of expertise than a conscious presupposition concerning the preeminence of a Greco-Roman over against a Jewish background for the NT. Nevertheless, it would have been helpful to acknowledge this focus at some point in the volume as well as in the title of the book” (754).
  7. Köstenberger points out a footnote comment, regarding the largely controverted discussion regarding the authorship of Paul’s letters to Timothy and Titus (754). Bell seems to keep open the option for pseudonymity (Exploring, 150, n. 7), without qualification.
  8. Bell, Exploring, 13.
  9. E. P. Sanders, The Historical Figure of Jesus (London: Penguin Books, 1995), 55.