He is Preparing a Place (Revelation 20–21)

[This is a pre-publication version of my chapter submission for the 88th Annual Freed-Hardeman University Bible Lectureship (2024), Henderson, Tennessee. This is part of the lectureship book: Triumph of the Lamb: The Battle with Evil in Revelation  (Link to book). Listen to the audio lecture as delivered here.]


When the famous New Testament scholar, A. T. Robertson (1863–1934), taught a course on interpreting Revelation, it’s been said that he walked into class with double armfuls of books which he thunderously dropped on the table and said, “Here are the various approaches to interpreting Revelation. Take your pick.”[1] Revelation 20–21 is a veritable asteroid field of perplexing questions. To minimize as much speculation as possible it will be important to consider the uniqueness of the book’s genre and its allusions to the Old Testament. God not only inspired the words but also chose the literary genre to communicate these words (2 Tim. 3:16–17; Russell 52–56). 

Additionally, it is essential to understand literary movements from the situation facing the first-century church (2:1–3:22), to the challenge of belief (13:1–14:) to the imagery of God’s judgment on his enemies (19:11–21).[2] We will the be ready to appreciate God’s judgment on Satan and his followers (20:1–10), the future fate of the Beast worshippers (20:11–15), and the final vindication of the redeemed in the heavens (21:1–27).

EXEGESIS

Genre, Allusions, and Literary Movement

First, some brief comments are needed with regard to genre. There seems to be no single genre that perfectly represents the complexity of Revelation. Suggested by its opening, it is necessary to accept the interplay between prophetic expectations, apocalyptic imagery, and its epistolary immediacy to the seven churches of Asia Minor (1:4–8; Carson and Moo 713–16). Prophetic literature appears to be the common genre assumption to the book due to its intertextual echoes of the Hebrew prophets (1:1; cf. Daniel, Ezekiel, Zechariah), but its drama is framed by visionary language (apocalyptic) not historical realism (Ryken 165–66). 

Apocalyptic language is a special type of visionary literature which graphically portrays the future vindication of God’s people. They typically suffer at the hands of God’s enemies, and are called to hope as God destroys the present order and establishes his kingdom (1:1; Placher, Mouw, Peters 347). Although the language is highly visual, it is not ahistorical. Finally, Revelation’s opening and closing demonstrates it functioned as an occasional circular epistle among a specific group of churches (1:4–9; 2:1–3:22; 22:18–20). John’s Apocalypse addressed real historical problems facing the first-century Christians of the western Asia Minor.

Second, a significant feature of Revelation is its dense use of intertextual allusions to Old Testament texts and motifs. The imagery and story can stand on its own, but the allusions are highly informative for understanding its message. The book has more allusions to the Old Testament “than all other books of the NT put together” (Beale and Campbell 17). Some may be categorized as “clear allusions” based on their near identical language. For example, Isaiah’s “new heavens and new earth” is clearly taken to introduce the “new Jerusalem” (Isa. 65:17; 66:22; Rev. 21:1). Others may be categorized as “probable allusions” based on how uniquely traceable the idea and language is to the Old Testament. In Revelation 20:5–6, the martyrs are said to have experienced the “first resurrection” (c.f. 20:11–14). Resurrection is certainly found in the New Testament, but its motif is typically connected to Daniel 12:2–echoed by Jesus (John 5:29). The Holy Spirit guided John to establish these links to form the thought-world of Revelation to see their fulfillment, typology, or extend their meaning (Luter 463–65).[3]

Third, “structure guides the audience’s understanding of the text” (Lee 173). There are three noteworthy movements to pay attention to. The first of these movements is the “present situation” facing the first-century church exhibited in the letters “to the seven churches that are in Asia” (1:4; 2:1–3:22). [All Scripture references are from the English Standard Version unless otherwise noted.] The churches were facing pressures of first century Greco-Roman political-religious life and these are directly bound to the language of the book (Mounce 84). The second movement is found at the structural center of the book (13:1–14:20). This section creates a “moment of decision” for the reader. Will one give allegiance to Satan and his Beast, or will one worship the Lamb? John makes it abundantly clear, one’s choice will be consequential. 

The final movement portrays Jesus (“the Word of God,” 19:13) riding triumphantly as the “Divine Warrior” on a white horse riding victoriously against Satan, his beast and false prophet condemning them to “the lake of fire” (Rev. 19:11–21).[4] This movement seals the fate of Satan. The ending of the “old world” of persecution, deception, and unrighteousness are quickly replaced by the “new order” of God’s righteous kingdom. 

Revelation 20–21

The question of the nature of the eschatological millennium in Revelation is one of the most challenging interpretive debates throughout church history (McGinn 527–38).[5] This “end times” question is important, but not so much that it must distract from understanding the apocalyptic imagery of divine vindication, the fate of Satan and his followers, and the hope of a glorious “new” Jerusalem. Understanding the literary goal of the present chapters is our primary concern, afterwhich an approach will be offered to address the millennium question. 

Following the initial failure of Satan (19:11–21), John takes his readers through four visional experiences marked by the phrase, “Then I saw…” (20:1, 4, 11; 20:1). The first vision is of the millennial incarceration of the dragon (20:1–3), the second being the millennial reign of the martyrs with Christ interrupted by the failed final coup of Satan (20:4–10), and in the third vision John sees the final fate of the living and the dead who were not written in the book of life (20:11–14). The fourth vision takes in the visual grandeur of the new holy city of Jerusalem, in the new heavens and new earth, and its extraordinary features (21:1–22:5).

The Fate of the Satan’s Rebellion (Rev. 20:1–10) 

The first vision of the millennial incarceration of the dragon begins with the descent of another angelic figure from the host of heaven who carries the previously mentioned “key” to the bottomless pit (Rev. 9:1) and a great chain. The imagery of the key is used three other times to represent control or access. The exalted Christ is said to possess the “keys of Death and Hades” (1:18) and “the key of David” (3:7). An angel of God who blew the fifth trumpet who was “given the key to the shaft of the bottomless pit” and opened it (9:1–2). Throughout Revelation various angels appear to carry out various elements of God’s executive plans (Rev. 1:1; 5:11; 7:2; 8:3; 10:1; 12:7; 14:15, 17–18; 18:1, 21; 19:17). This angel chains Satan to the bottomless pit for “a thousand years” (20:2).

The idea of a “bottomless pit” reoccurs only a handful of times in Revelation but is a common trope of ancient cosmology of the underworld. References are found in the sheol references in the Old Testament (i.e., the grave, realm of the dead), non-canonical apocryphal and pseudepigraphical literature, and Greek myths of Hades and Titan myths. Such language appears in the New Testament regarding rebellious angels–complete with binding them in chains (2 Pet. 2:4; Jude 6). Jesus declares the gates of the hadean realm would not prevail against his messianic mission (Matt. 16:18–19). Satan/the Devil, surprisingly, is cast in the pit temporarily for a thousand years to prevent further deception of the nations (20:3).

Satan (adversary, accuser; 2:9) and Devil (slanderer; 2:10) appear early in Revelation and are explicitly identified as “the great dragon… that ancient serpent…the deceiver of the whole world” cast down from heaven to earth with his angels (12:9). John’s recipients already knew that Satan had placed real political and religious pressure on their churches (Smyrna 2:9–10, Pergamum 2:13, Thyatira 2:24, Philadelphia 3:9), but John reveals that his deceptive and corruptive influence is everywhere. In Revelation, Satan operates through “nesting egg” avatars. The blasphemous beast from the sea (Nero redivivus?) who marveled the world over to worship him with his claim of a resurrection (13:1–4), gave rise to the miracle-working faux-lamb beast who initiated the cultic and political allegiance to totalitarianism by worship of the image of the first beast (the Caesar cult?; 13:11–18), who then gave rise to the false prophet and his miracle working demonic spirits to manipulate the kings of the earth to war against God (16:12–16). These have all been defeated. All that remains is Satan in exile, bound to the bottomless pit.

The martyrs of Christ, then, are resurrected to reign for a thousand years (20:4–6) but are interrupted when Satan initiates a failed coup resulting in his final demise in the lake of fire (20:7–10). This second vision begins with the preparation of a judgment scene reminiscent of Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians in which he affirms that “the saints will judge the world… [and] angels” (6:2–3a). There are thrones reserved for those empowered to judge, but it is not clear who they are (Rev. 20:4). The proximity of this group to the resurrected martyrs lends strength to believe that the resurrected faithful of God will be involved in the cosmic judgment (20:4–5). This seems even more likely as the “rest of the dead did not come to life until the thousand years were ended” as they did not experience “the first resurrection” (20:5). The resurrected martyrs will be judges, priests, and reign with God in this millennia (20:6). This outcome of victory is consistent with the letters to Thyatira and Laodicea (1:5b–6; 2:26–27; 3:21), and with the baptismal language of being raised and seated with Christ (Eph. 2:6; Col. 2:15; for the resurrection see end of section).

The release of Satan points to two related facts: God is in full control and Satan is always inferior in power (20:7; cf. Job 1:6–2:10). Yet, these inevitabilities never seem to bother him! At the close of the millennial reign Satan will re-emerge with the purpose “to deceive the nations.” This time he must recruit afresh. He plans to go to battle against God’s people like Gog the chief prince of Meshech and Tubal, from the land of Magog (Ezek. 38–39). Gog and Magog are a shorthand for the ambition to “seize spoil and carry off plunder” from the vulnerable land of God’s people (Ezek. 38:10–11). God condemned Gog’s fate to be a burial in “the Valley of the Travelers, east of the sea” as a sign of his utter failure (Ezek. 39:11–16). So too, Satan/the Devil will attempt a coup but as he surrounds “the beloved city” fire from heaven consumes his forces, but he will be “thrown into the lake of fire and sulfur… tormented day and night forever and ever” (20:9–10). Satan, his avatars, nor his chicaneries ever appear again.

The Doomed Fate of the Beast Worshippers (Rev. 20:11–15) 

In the third vision, John sees the final fate of those who were not written in the book of life (20:11–14). The “book of life” is first introduced in the letter to the church in Sardis as a directory of those who walk with the exalted Christ and conquer over spiritual trials (3:5). Yet, God has always had such a book, exclusion from it was a sign of impending judgment (Exod. 32:33). In Revelation, it refers to those who have succumbed to the manipulation of the beast, worshiped it, rebelled against God, and lived unclean lives of moral and spiritual corruption (13:8; 17:8; 21:27). Their fate is to experience “the second death,” which is to be thrown into the lake of fire “forever and ever” with the beast, the false prophet, and Satan/the Devil (19:20; 20:10, 14–15; 21:8).

This lake of fire is the final and permanent act of divine judgment. Previously an angel declared, “If anyone worships the beast and its image and receives a mark  on his forehead or on his hand, he also will drink the wine of God’s wrath, poured full strength into the cup of his anger, and he will be tormented with fire and sulfur in the presence of the holy angels and in the presence of the Lamb” (14:9–10). While some Christians reject the idea of eternal conscious torment for the lost and rebellious, this language could not be understood otherwise. The passive verb (tormented, basanídzō), the temporal language, and the heavenly witnesses suggests an eternal conscious experience. Granted, the portrayal is framed in the apocalyptic vision, but as stated above this does suggest that such a judgment will not happen.

The order of events leading to judgment is noteworthy. A bodily resurrection precedes standing before the throne of judgment, as they were exhumed from the sea and hadean realm (20:12–13). As the cosmos was laid bare, there was no terrain or hiding spots from God’s eye, as “earth and sky fled away” from him (20:11). This post-millennial resurrection (“come to life”) of exclusively beast worshippers was accomplished by God’s power (20:5). It is thought provoking to consider that a bodily resurrection of the wicked precedes being cast into the lake of fire to experience an eternal punishment for evil done in the body. Perhaps Jesus’ words are not exaggerations for effect when he said, “fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell [gehenna]” (Matt 10:28; 18:8–9). It is startling to see that not only the wicked and lost, but even the “containers” of disembodied spirits (Death and Hades), are thrown in the lake of fire. Revelation affirms, then, that hell is God’s ultimate answer of holy justice to the corrosive problem of moral and spiritual evil. Nothing associated with evil survives the second death.

The “New” Fate of the Lamb Worshippers (Rev. 21:1–27)

The fourth vision takes in the visual grandeur of the founding and features of the new holy city of Jerusalem, in the new heavens and new earth (21:1–27). The transition is as quick as the blink of an eye. This transition is an anticipated feature of apocalyptic literature. The old world in which God’s people suffer has fallen and God will replace it with his “new” kingdom imbued with peace and righteousness (21:1). The “holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God” had been anticipated since the letter to the church in Philadelphia (3:12; 21:2). The garden in Genesis and the tabernacle reveal, for example, God’s desire to dwell with his people provided they walk in holiness with him (Gen. 2:1–3:24; Exod. 25:8; 29:45–46; Lev. 16:16). In the new Jerusalem, “the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God” (Rev. 21:3). God will share his intimate presence with his people by comforting, protecting, and ensuring the “former things have passed away” (21:4).

“New” appears in Revelation eight times. Four appear between verses 1–5. John sees the “new heavens and a new earth” (21:1), the “new Jerusalem” (21:2; 3:12), and hears God affirm “I am making all things new” (21:5). This “new” creation originates out of heaven and comes down to the plain of existence which has lost all of its features due to the immanent presence of God (20:11; 21:1).[6] Clearly, the old “heavens and the earth” (Gen. 1:1) has “passed away” along with its sea (Rev. 21:1). Nothing of the old order remains except for those who have faithfully worshiped the lamb (21:7–8, 27). It is “the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end” who declares, “It is done!” (21:6; Gen. 2:1–3). The new creation is not tenuously “very good” (Gen. 1:31; 3:1), every one evil will be in judgment (Rev. 21:8; 14:9–10).

In Revelation 16:17–17:18, there is also a declaration that God’s work is “done” (16:17). This is followed by an angel showing John the judgment of “the great prostitute” who reigns over many waters and the kings of the earth (17:1, 18). In this section, an angel from earlier reappears to lead John to see that the only city left is the “new Jerusalem,” equated as the “Bride, the wife of the Lamb” (21:9). The dueling women of Revelation (the prostitute and the bride) materialize the divergent outcomes of the dueling women of Proverbs 1–9 (Lady Wisdom and Dame Folly). John saw the combined beauty of its materials used, its impressive protective boundaries, the explicit knowledge of its citizens’ names inscribed, and the work of the apostolic office serving as its foundation (21:11–14). The materials of the new holy city are made from the various streams of the scheme of redemption woven into a tapestry of the gospel that can only be related visually by the glittering brilliance of precious jewels and stones (21:15–21). The city is pure and beautiful, and is the refreshing end of our pilgrimage (22:1–5; Heb. 4:9–10; 11:10).

Several elements seem to have surprised John about the new Jerusalem all of which are the result of the immanent presence of God (21:22–26). The Jerusalem temple where the Spirit of God dwelt has been replaced by the actual presence of “the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb” (21:22). Creation itself will lack the sun and never have night again, as God and the Lamb are its source of light (21:23). Light is the natural extension of the character of God (John 1:4–5). In this “new heavens and new earth,” as in its Isaiah counterparts (65:17; 66:22), humanity and creation will experience peaceful living and will generate glory for the express purpose of God’s praise (21:24–27; Beale and Campbell 492). 

ILLUSTRATIONS

First-Century Persecution

Revelation points to a first-century church experiencing persecution. The New Testament provides evidence that like their master, the early Christians experienced rejection and religious persecution. Jesus’ death on the cross was the result of a calculated rejection by the Jewish religious establishment. The Lord told his disciples, “Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours” (John 15:20). The apostles certainly experienced persecution for their claims that Jesus fulfilled the anticipation of the messiah, and were often used as political trophies to appease the rank and file anti-Christian Jew (Acts 12:1–3). This was mostly infighting among Jews that rejected Christ and Jews that accepted Christ. Historically, Emperor Claudius (r. 41–54) expelled Jews from the city of Rome over their ongoing instigations over a certain Chrestus (i.e., Christos, Christ; Suetonius, Claudius 25; Acts 18:1–2).

Nevertheless, as Christianity expanded throughout the Greco-Roman world other forms of problems emerged. Social and religious tensions emerged as former pagans no longer participated in the placating of the gods, which made the Christian stand out (1 Pet. 4:1–19). Texts like 1 Peter reveal there were consequential reactions by the local community Christians found themselves in for not participating in traditional cultic practices, there did not seem to be a top-down Roman policy of persecution. Instead, persecution at that level was sporadic and episodic. Two notable figures were Nero in A.D. 64 and Domitian in A.D. 96. Tacitus, the Roman historian, wrote of Nero’s actions to blame the Christians for the great fire of Rome. Tacitus wrote, he “fastened the guilt and inflicted the most exquisite tortures on a class hated for their abominations, called Christians” (Annals 15.44). Domitian, on the other hand, persecuted Christians as a side-effect from their rejection of the imperial cult which affirmed that “Caesar is Lord” (McFayden 46). Such situations play into the Roman paradigm which Revelation subverts.

APPLICATIONS

The Resurrection of the Body

Scripture forces the Christian to see the bodily resurrection as an essential component of the “end times.” The language of resurrection in Revelation 20:4b–5 is particularly uncomplicated. The resurrection of the dead (beheaded) martyrs simply occurs when they “came to life” (20:4b). In Daniel, the general resurrection is framed as when many who “sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake” (12:2; cf. John 5:29). In Ezekiel, a grotesque vision of dry bones reassembling underscores not only affirms God’s creative power to make these bones live again, but also to resurrect the Judahite state dead in captivity (37:1–14). 

In the history of the church, the procurator Festus summarizes the Christian claim that, “a certain Jesus, who was dead… Paul asserted to be alive” (Acts 25:19; Acts 17:32). In the early fifties, Paul likely provides the earliest Christian explanation of the bodily resurrection of Christ and its future implications for the believer (1 Cor. 15:1–8). Christ’s resurrection made him the “firstfruits” from the dead, providing hope the Christian will likewise “bear the image of the man of heaven” (1 Cor. 15:20, 49). It is impressive that the language of bodily resurrection spans the prophetic, the epistolary, and the historical genres of Scripture. 

Understanding the Millennium

Revelation 20:1–10 is one short but it has become the center for many systems of belief about the end times. Revelation 20:1–10 tends to “wags the dog” of interpretation for the Apocalypse if you begin the interpretation process with an unchecked eschatological (end times) assumption(s). For this reason Frank Pack (1916–1998) observed, “The question of the millennium… has made this the most difficult portion of the Book of Revelation to understand” (45). These visions of John are “not intended to map out a linear future timeline of history but to inspire people who are suffering for their faith to persevere, whatever the time” (Tidball 244). Nevertheless, the three broad approaches have locked horns throughout church history. 

The three most common are premillennialism, postmillennialism, and amillennialism (cf. McGrath 442–43; Tidball 244–45; Pack 45–48). While the most popular, premillennialism anticipates Christ’s return before the millennium inaugurated by the rapture and tribulation. It relies on a literal treatment and unnatural proof texting of scattered prophetic literature and encourages speculation of the end times contrary to Jesus’ words (Matt. 24:36, 42). Postmillennialism rose to prominence in the nineteenth century as an optimistic alternative, seeing the evangelistic mission of the church vital to the coming of Christ but it has fallen out of favor in the aftermath of the world wars. Finally, amillennialism does not hold that there is any period of history that should be marked as “the millennium,” but instead typically sees it as symbolic of the entire Christian age. This is likely the better reading of the language of Revelation than the previous two.

APPLICATION QUESTIONS

  1. Why are the words and the literary genre important for God’s inspired purpose in writing Revelation?
  2. Does the rich apocalyptic language suggest that there is no historical foundation behind the image? Where does Revelation point to its historical setting?
  3. What story do you find in contemporary media (books, movies, etc.) that is compelling in the way it outlines good and evil? Which one would you use to illustrate evil vs. good to someone you know?
  4. What is a fair speculation as to why God temporarily bound Satan and allowed him to try for one more attack on God’s people?
  5. Eternal conscious torment of the wicked and lost is a hard topic to talk about. How does justice play a role in understanding this topic?
  6. The new city of Jerusalem in the new heavens and new earth is said to be free of evil and corruption. Why do you think free moral beings will be able to live in a place like that and not sin?
  7. The resurrection of the body is part of Revelation’s picture of the new heavenly existence. How does Paul’s explanation help think about the resurrection of our bodies and the end times?

ENDNOTES

  1. Boyd Luter, “Interpreting the Book of Revelation,” Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues, eds. David A. Black and David S. Dockery (Nashville: B&H, 2001), 474.
  2. This approach to Revelation is based on the literary chiastic structure developed in Michelle V. Lee, “A Call to Martyrdom: Function as Method and Message in Revelation,” Novum Testamentum 40.2 (1998): 164–94.
  3. A short list of other allusions: Genesis 1:1 as the basis for “new” heavens and earth (Rev. 21:1); Isaiah throne room motif of the thrice-holy God (Isa. 6:1–7; Rev. 4–5; 20:4, 11); in Daniel, God victoriously vindicates his saints against the beasts (7:1–28; Rev. 20:7–10); the “Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end” (Rev. 21:6) alludes to similar ideas in Isaiah (44:6; 48:12); Ezekiel 37–39 as important imagery for the Gog and Magog siege of Jerusalem (Rev. 20:7–9).
  4. David E. Aune marks this passage with strong Christological implications for the exalted Christ portrayed as the Divine Warrior who is designated with the following four “names” (317–18): (1) “Faithful and True” (19:11), (2) “he has a name written that no one knows but himself” (19:12), (3) “the Word of God” (19:14), and (4) “King of kings and Lord of lords” (19:16).
  5. Students of the outline of Revelation will observe that 20:1–22:5 is the proper closing of this unit, as John is shown the central placement of “the river of the water of life” in the new Jerusalem sourced from the throne of God with whom they will have an unmediated communion.
  6. John’s language here does not perfectly align with Peter’s (2 Pet. 3:8–10), but the difference can be accounted for by their different audience and purposes, but more particularly by the ways they compartmentalize different aspects of the end of the present age.

WORKS CITED

Aune, David E. “Stories of Jesus in the Apocalypse of John.” Pages 292–319 in Contours of Christology in the New Testament. Edited by Richard N. Longenecker. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2005.

Beale, G. K., and David H. Campbell. Revelation: A Shorter Commentary. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2015. Logos electronic edition.

Carson, D. A., and Douglas J. Moo. An Introduction to the New Testament. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2005.

Lee, Michelle Vidle. “A Call to Martyrdom: Function as Method and Message in Revelation.” Novum Testamentum 40.2 (1998): 164–94.

Luter, Boyd. “Interpreting the Book of Revelation.” Pages 457–80 in Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues. Edited by David Alan Black and David S. Dockery. Nashville: B&H, 2001.

McFayden, Donald. “The Occasion of the Domitian Persecution.” American Journal of Theology 24 (1920): 46–66.

McGinn, Bernard. “Revelation.” Pages 523–41 in The Literary Guide to the Bible. Edited by Robert Alter and Frank Kermode. 1987. Reprint, Cambridge: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1999.

McGrath, Alister E. Christian Theology: An Introduction. 6th ed. Malden: Wiley-Blackwell, 2017.

Mounce, Robert H. The Book of Revelation. NICNT. Edited by F. F. Bruce. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977.

Pack, Frank. Revelation, Part 2. Austin: Sweet, 1965.

Placher, William C., Richard J. Mouw, and Ted Peters. “Where Are We Going? Eschatology.” Pages 329–65 in Essentials of Christian Theology. Edited by William C. Placher. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2003.

Russell, Walt. Playing with Fire: How the Bible Ignites Change in Your Soul. Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2000.

Ryken, Leland. How to Read the Bible as Literature. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1984.

Tidball, Derek. The Voices of the New Testament: Invitation to a Biblical Roundtable. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2016.


My Friends and the Snowman Prank

Recently, traveling for a speaking engagement some dear friends and I reminisced over the time when they pulled one of the most memorable pranks on me that will live on in the lore of our friendship until the Lord returns. As we talked about this event, I realized I learned something important about friendship that had not truly crossed my mind before. I would like to invite you to join me in the retelling of this story and a reflection on friendship.

The Snowman Prank

The setting. It was a cold Spring Semester at Freed-Hardeman University in Henderson, Tennessee. Usually, snow would fall in February and last for a few weeks. I can tell you driving in snow was one of the more challenging adjustments I had to make, as the driving I experienced in San Francisco little prepared me for it. After living in Henderson for a couple of years, I had developed some comfort with the cold and awareness for driving in the snow–especially becoming alert for “black ice.”

Snow out on the roads is one thing, but it was beyond thought to anticipate the sight I came upon one cold day in my car. I was heading to my car after taking a test in an undergraduate Bible class, when I noticed a car that looked just like mine with a snowman in the front passenger seat. I told myself, “wow, that’s funny… a snowman is sitting in the car,” shaking my head in disbelief. No way that was my car. No way a snowman was in my car.

It wasn’t until I tapped my key fob, heard the beep and saw the lights flicker that I accepted the truth. Even then it was tentative. I walked up to the car in disbelief, examining through the window the incredulous reality that a snowman sat on my front passenger seat. It was a fully three-tiered perfectly white snowman. I even marveled that whoever had done this was at least “Christian” about it as they had placed a garbage bag underneath it to protect the fabric. “Wow, this is what Christian pranks look like,” I thought to myself.

I realized I had left my car unlocked which in turn gave the pranksters the literal “open door.” In the course of a couple of years in small town Henderson, I had grown comfortable contrary to all the security precautions I had learned in the big-city. We locked everything. The front door to the home I grew up in had five locks. But now, I felt safe and comfortable, and look at how I was repaid… with a snowman! I was no longer the guarded city-kid who distrusted any person walking on the side of the street.

Unexpected Reactions

Today I chuckle at this story. I wish I had then my sensibilities that I have now. But I can assure you that my prankster friends bore witness to an unexpected reaction from their Christian brother. They had an aerial view of whole encounter from the large and wide windows of the Student Center/Cafeteria overlooking the parking lot. It was the perfect perch for them to be rewarded by seeing the comedy but that’s not entirely what happened.

I decided to remove the snowman, as one does, from my car. Instead of a calm and somewhat goofy procedure to move it to the sidewalk, I proceeded to dismember the snowman and slam each frozen sphere to the ground. My friends realized that I did not take the prank so kindly or jovial as they had hoped. They saw rage. As it was at this time they realized they messed up.

I can tell you, each time I picked an increasingly larger icy ball over my head I dropped it with all the force I could muster. I was not used to good-humored pranks. Every prank I received or dished out in the streets never had good-willed intentions. Humiliations were not really tolerated, unless you were on the lower end of the totem pole. Like Coolio said, “Me be treated like a punk, you know that’s unheard of.”[1]

When my friends saw my reaction, they knew it was time to go. As they have told me, they quickly vacated the premises, hopped in a car and tried to escape undetected. They tried. After I took my heat off on the snowman, I proceeded to investigate to see if there were any witnesses to the “crime.” Nothing proved fruitful until I saw a car pull up. I could not identify who was in it, but it looked guilty. After a few attempts to corner them, they escaped my grasp. Eventually, I took a call in which they confessed guilt to this prank.

Accepting Good-willed Friendship Fun

Suddenly, my indignation melted away to relief that my friends meant the prank as nothing more than some friendly winter fun. At that time in my life, I had very little experience with this type of fun. This was not a cruelly-intended hazing, it was just fun shared among good friends. It was a practical joke, a rather hilarious one.

It is not that I lacked friends growing up, but the “jokes” we played on each other always had an element of humiliation that betrayed trust. Even the “jokes” were deceptions designed to manipulate me and my emotions. I once had a friend that told me my wife and toddler daughter died in a car accident they had actually been in. It felt as the Proverb says:

Like a madman who throws firebrands, arrows, and death is the man who deceives his neighbor and says, “I am only joking!” (Proverbs 26:18–19 ESV)

But my friends were people of quality. I went from gangsters to pranksters. Again, the Proverbs tell us

A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother. (Proverbs 18:24)

Over the past twenty plus years, despite the passing of time, the reunions with my closest friends have been sweeter than honey–even if some of them placed a snowman in my car.

Friendship in the Bible

The Bible speaks about friendship, of the 187* instances of the Hebrew word rea’ (friend, companion, neighbor, fellow, associate), the English Standard Version of the Bible translates it “friend” thirty-three times. Broadly, however, it means to suggest an acquaintance or fellow–a neighbor. It is the word used in the Second Great Commandment, “you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord” (Lev 19:18; 19: 13, 16; Matt 22:34–40; Mark 12:28–34; Rom 13:9; Gal 5:14; Jas 2:8). While not all “neighbors” are those that stick closer than a brother, God’s people are called to treat all neighbors with dignity and respect (i.e., love).

The book of Proverbs provides a number of insightful principles for appreciating the value of good friendships.

We need good friends. More importantly we need good friends. Additionally, we need not only to be “friends” to many, but a good friend who treats people with dignity and respect. We make our interactions personal, rather than impersonal.[2] The proverbs of Solomon continue this theme in the following couplet (Prov 10:1):

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.
One who lacks sense gives a pledge and puts up security in the presence of his neighbor. (Proverbs 17:17–18)

These two verses are connected by the word rea’, translated “friend” and “neighbor.” There seems to be an intensification of “friend” who expresses a loyalty like a sibling, the closest relationship in the ancient world. Such a friend will be there even in times of rushed decisions without abandoning them in their time of need.[3]

Perhaps no better example of this type of friendship is found outside of David and Jonathan. In the midst of David’s rise in Israel during the reign of King Saul, Jonathan and David’s friendship transcended family allegiances. It is said that “the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul” and makes a covenant with him (1 Sam 18:1). He even protected David from his father’s wrath (1 Sam 20).

Good friends are not pushovers. They are not enablers. Many a “ride or die” friendship has imploded because they offer no space for accountability. Proverbs calls us to this very truth:

Better is open rebuke than hidden love. Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy. One who is full loathes honey, but to one who is hungry everything bitter is sweet. Like a bird that strays from its nest is a man who strays from his home. Oil and perfume make the heart glad, and the sweetness of a friend comes from his earnest counsel. Do not forsake your friend and your father’s friend, and do not go to your brother’s house in the day of your calamity. Better is a neighbor who is near than a brother who is far away. (Proverbs 27:5–10)

The word friend in this section is the translation of ahabāh means “love,” as in “one who loves.” A faithful friend who loves us will not withhold their love from us, but will offer words that may leave a mark. These “wounds” are not the sort to injure, but to provide counsel so their friend may redirect their decisions. It may hurt on the front end, but the outcome will be like sweet food or an enjoyable fragrance.[4] Such friends are comparable family who have a vested interest in our success.

Could we have a better friend than God? James writes of Abraham that it was his faith in God that led to his deep relationship with the Lord. He affirms that “‘Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness’—and he was called a friend of God” (Jas 2:23). Moses spent time in the Tent of Meeting and communed with the Lord there. “Thus the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend” (Exod 33:11a). Faith in the words and character of God, and the boldness to commune with the Lord are vital components to a vibrant “friendship” with the Lord.

Concluding Thoughts

God clearly points us to forging good friendships. Being a good neighbor is the foundation to offering authentic friendship and loyalty to those outside our families. Sometimes, we find deeper relationships or comparable ones in outsiders to the point that our neighbor is now our soul knit friend.

It can be very difficult for many of us to make friendships and trust in the good will they offer. This is often due to trauma. At least it was in my case. I did not know how to have fun and playful friendships. These pranksters helped me break through a hang up I did not know was there. I am beyond grateful the Lord has blessed me with friends like these at different stages in my life.

I pray that in your lifetime, and despite any trauma, you too will appreciate and be blessed by good friends. Finally, I pray that you will learn to be the friend your neighbor needs in their time of difficulties and hardships. This is the commandment of love that identify us as disciples of Jesus (Rom 13:9; Gal 5:14; Jas 2:8).

Endnotes

  1. Coolio, “Gangsta’s Paradise” (1995).
  2. Derek Kidner, Proverbs: An Introduction and Commentary (1964; repr., Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2008), 41.
  3. Dave Bland, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Solomon (Joplin, MO: College Press, 2002), 165.
  4. Kidner, Proverbs, 158.

Psalm 41: David’s Lament of Betrayal

According to the Gospel of John, during the final hours before his betrayal and crucifixion, Jesus spent the final night with his disciples. This begins the “hour” in which Jesus would be glorified (John 12:27–28). The first “teaching act” Jesus provides his disciples is to wash their feet, illustrating that leadership must be service-oriented among them whether Master and Teacher or servant and disciple (John 13:1–20).

Both Jesus and the narrator of the Fourth Gospel introduce a significant feature here: Jesus served all of his disciples by washing their feet, especially Judas whom Jesus already knew would betray him (John 13:11). This general fact Jesus makes a topic of conversation (John 13:17–20, 21–30). Jesus said:

I am not speaking of all of you; I know whom I have chosen. But the Scripture will be fulfilled, ‘He who ate my bread has lifted his heel against me.’ (John 13:18 English Standard Version)[1]

In Christian interpretation, the “Scripture” reference is to Psalm 41:9 as a prophecy of Judas. As with many New Testament quotations of the Old Testament, the use of this passage in reference to Judas’s betrayal of Jesus generates considerable questions. For example, if this scripture applies to Judas, was Psalm 41:9 void of meaning for centuries until the first century AD emergence of Jesus? This seems unlikely. Additionally, in what sense does Judas fulfill (plēroō) this passage? Is it in a typological, duel-fulfillment (telescopic), or primary/secondary fulfillment sense? These types of questions are important, but they are not the primary concern in this paper.[2]

The present brief study was prompted by the connection between Psalm 41:9 and John 13:18. Nevertheless, the most important concern in this paper is to seek to understand Psalm 41 as a unit.

Thus, the primary focus presently is on understanding Psalm 41 from its historical and biblical context (i.e., Hebrew Bible), its structural features (literary genre, organizational form), and its linguistic features. With these items in place, it will help to consider its theology and application. Finally, a consideration on how to best see how Judas’s betrayal of Jesus “fulfills” Psalm 41:9.

Historical Context

C. Hassell Bullock mentions the great dilemma of studying the historical context of any given psalm and stresses that to obtain a solid footing for explaining the context one must examine the superscriptions and content of the psalm.[3]

Edward Tesh and Walter Zorn observe that perhaps no other psalm rivals Psalm 41 in terms of providing the original setting and significance.[4] They evaluate six possible explanations and conclude that the psalm was probably borne out of a dire situation and was consequently a lament, in which the psalmist appeals for healing. From this dire circumstance, the psalm eventually was incorporated into the liturgy of the temple worship.[5] Other scholars also recognize the “lament” nature of the psalm as informative to understanding the original historical context (Carroll Stuhlmeuller, Peter C. Craigie, Robert G. Bratcher and William D. Reyburn).[6] The internal evidence, then, points to a historical context that generated a lament.

Peter Craigie represents those who argue that the Psalm must be understood in its liturgical use for the sick of Israel, instead of a personal historical context.[7] Likewise, Charles A. Briggs argued that the psalm is national in scope, not individual, because of an emphasis upon God blessing those in the land during post-exilic times (Psa 41:2).[8] The psalm proper begins:

"Blessed is the one who considers the poor! In the day of trouble the Lord delivers him; the LORD protects him and keeps him alive; he is called blessed in the land; you do not give him up to the will of his enemies." (Psalm 41:1–2). 

Canonically, the psalm is a communal outcry, and this then speaks to its shaping context. This conclusion seems to be weakened by the fact that there is still an earlier setting that precedes its Hebrew liturgical use. This amounts to a debate between the later canonical use of Psalm 41 with its initial authorial intent.

The tradition contained in the subscription may provide help in understanding the original historical context. The subscription is ancient but it is not likely to be as old as the psalm. It minimally points to what the ancients believed about this psalm. It may help understand the initial authorial intent of Psalm 41 by providing an assumption about the personal emphases throughout the psalm and the psalmist’s dependence upon God. The subscription of Psalm 41 reads: “To the Choirmaster. A psalm of David.” The psalm is Davidic by tradition. Internally, there is nothing inherent in the psalm that would dismiss it as being Davidic.

Unfortunately, some have noted that the translation of the ascription “of David” (le dwd) could be regarded as a dedication “to David.”[9] In addition to versional evidence offered to support the translation for the phrase as “of David,” similar wording can be demonstrated from the Hebrew canon to express authorship.[10] To illustrate, consider one example from Habakkuk:

A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet, according to Shigionoth. 

O Lord, I have heard the report of you, and your work, O Lord, do I fear. In the midst of the years revive it; in the midst of the years make it known; in wrath remember mercy. (Hab 3:1–2)

This is not a prayer dedicated to Habakkuk, but a prayer of the prophet, as in by the prophet. Despite later reconstructions of redaction and editorial work theories in the canonical shaping of Psalter, it seems reasonable that “to David” in the subscription is a claim of authorship. If there is no need to question Davidic authorship, then the traditional attributions may be considered accurate, and therefore be a line of argumentation against Briggs’ post-exilic interpretation of Psalm 41:2.[11]

The internal evidence, then, is supportive of a time in King David’s lifetime in which he experienced betrayal and treachery by someone close to him, and the presence and faithfulness of his God to vindicate him. This is assumed here to be during his reign in the 10th century BC. Psalm 41 may have been collated afresh in later editions of the Psalter for liturgical or national use, but these developments are secondary contexts.

Literary Form

Psalm 41 is generally regarded as a lament. Its historical context makes it more likely it was an individual lament. Laments are not simply mere prayers of pain. Laments often contours such as an outcry of pain or distress, a declaration of faith based upon some past action of God, lessons learned about God, and a statement of praise. In that sense, a lament can offer insight into a past tragedy in which the lamenter cries out to God and then contains a record of the Lord’s vindication.

For reasons like this, an alternative form for Psalm 41 is what Willem A. Van Germeren calls a “thanksgiving of the individual.”[12] If it is to be considered as a thanksgiving work, then there should be words of praise, some description of God’s gracious action, lessons learned about God, and some form of a conclusion extolling God. It is true the psalm begins with what may be read as thanksgiving for the one who considers the poor for the Lord will deliver him. But while there is certainly an undertow of gratitude throughout the psalm, there is the consistent plea for assistance, deliverance, and an appeal to God’s grace that saturates the psalm. The evidence for lament is stronger than the theme of thanksgiving.

It has also been suggested that Psalm 41 could overlap with the wisdom psalm literary form. Instead of the distressing opening lines of Psalm 22:1 (“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”) or Psalm 51:1 (“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love”s 51:1”), Psalm 41 begins with a proverbial statement.[13] observe:

“Blessed is the one who considers the poor, in the day of trouble the Lord delivers him.” (Psalm 41:1)

However, the phrase “blessed” is used throughout the Psalms and does not require proverbial emphases. While it could be argued that Psalm 41 does not begin with the type of traditional outcry associated with lament, the wisdom genre does not carry the burden of how the psalmist describes his enemies as conspiring against him:

My enemies say of me in malice, “When will he die, and his name perish?” And when one comes to see me, he utters empty words, while his heart gathers iniquity; when he goes out, he tells it abroad. All who hate me whisper together about me; they imagine the worst for me. They say, “A deadly thing is poured out on him; he will not rise again from where he lies.” Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me. But you, O Lord, be gracious to me, and raise me up, that I may repay them! (Psalm 41:5-10)

Wisdom provides the “how to” knowledge or the “beware” knowledge, the psalmist is decrying his situation.

The psalm begins with a focus on the individual and the Lord’s care of “he who considers the poor.” In a Spanish translation, the Hebrew word dal is translated as “el debil” (Santa Biblia: Nueva Version Internacional), meaning those who are weak. It seems essential to the lament of the psalm that the weak is the psalmist and not necessarily someone about whom the psalmist is reflecting about.

Structure

While this paper will not address the complexities of the original Hebrew text,[14] it is clear that the psalm may be given a variety of outlines depending on how the parallelism is viewed. Not all scholars seem to agree on the arrangement even if they have the same number of structural divisions. For example, the late Hugo McCord (1911–2004) sets the psalm into four stichs in his translation of the Psalms: 41:1–3, 4–6, 7–9, 10–12, and 13.[15] Tesh and Zorn divide the psalm into four different stichs: 1–4, 5–9, 10–12, and 13.[16]

I offer a personal outline for the psalm suggested: 1–3, 4–8, 9–12, and 13.

Psalm 41:1–3: Blessed is the one who considers the poor! In the day of trouble the Lord delivers him; the LORD protects him and keeps him alive; he is called blessed in the land; you do not give him up to the will of his enemies. The LORD sustains him on his sickbed; in his illness you restore him to full health.

Psalm 41:4–8: As for me, I said, “O LORD, be gracious to me heal me, for I have sinned against you!” My enemies say of me in malice, “When will he die, and his name perish?” And when one comes to see me, he utters empty words, while his heart gathers iniquity; when he goes out, he tells it abroad. All who hate me whisper together about me; they imagine the worst for me. They say, “A deadly thing is poured out on him; he will not rise again from where he lies.” 

Psalm 9–12: Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me. But you, O Lord, be gracious to me, and raise me up, that I may repay them! By this I know that you delight in me: my enemy will not shout in triumph over me. But you have upheld me because of my integrity, and set me in your presence forever.

Psalm 13: Blessed be the LORD, the God of Israel, from everlasting to everlasting! Amen and Amen. 

The groupings seem to fit a thematic development. In verses 1–3, David demonstrates a balancing of the blessed environment of the one who considers the poor with the strength and sustaining power of God. Then, in verses 4–8, David describes the plight he finds himself in. While David seems to be in poor health and under spiritual duress and therefore vulnerable, his enemies reveal themselves as ambitious traitors to the crown. In verses 9–12, the case intensifies as David laments the fact that he has become so isolated that “even” his close friend betrays him. Admit the tension the Lord is appealed to for help so that the psalmist’s suffering may be avenged by the Lord. This would be all the vindication he would need.

Interestingly, the doxology of verse 13 is typically set to stand by itself perhaps as an inclusio. George Knight observes that the psalm begins with “blessed be the man” it ends with “blessed be the Lord.”[17] There is certainly an understood purpose behind this inclusio. Some speculate this verse was added by a later editor or compiler.[18] On Hebrew parallelism, it has been argued that verse 13 does not seem to formally echo or balance with verse 12.[19] Additionally, the language in Psalm 41:13 is remarkably similar to Psalm 106:48 and functions similarly as a formal doxological break between the two books. Psalm 41 closes Book I and Psalm 106 closes Book IV with the same doxology, with an expanded doxology in Psalm 106. However one accounts for verse 13, it is structurally integral to the Psalter.

Imagery

Imagery is an important aspect of Hebrew poetry. Imagery conveys messages and nuances and sometimes brings our emotions. In the Hebrew poetry of the Psalms, the poet expresses truths with images being the channel. Consider a minor sample of some of the imagery concerning God, the psalmist, and the psalmist’s enemy.

Psalm 41:3 refers to the parallel concept of the Lord who strengthens the sick man “on his bed of illness” and “sustain him on his sickbed.” The picture is graphic and is one of physical restoration, which may refer both to spiritual or real renewal.

Psalm 41:6 discusses, from the vantage point of the psalmist, his enemy. His enemy’s “heart gathers iniquity to itself; when he goes out, he tells it.” The psalmist personifies the mind of an evil man and depicts it in the act of gathering iniquity as a person may gather fruits or clothing. Man’s heart is given to iniquity, so much that he self-references is own sinfulness. The enemy of the psalmist is consequently even more devious and methodical.

In Psalm 41:9 the description of the kind of enemy the Psalmist endures is one that is a close associate, one whom he trusted. Trust and eating bread are synonymous phrases in this context, demonstrating the use of parallelism. But the synonym moves on to climatic, where the enemy goes from trusted friend to outright betrayer.

Biblical Context

As previously mentioned in the introduction, from a Christian reading of the Bible, Psalm 41 is associated with Judas Iscariot since John narrates that Jesus declared Judas’ betrayal as a fulfillment of Psalm 41:9. Sometimes the Christ-Judas relationship overshadows David’s own reason for writing the Psalm, his Sitz en Leiben (life’s setting). On the assumption of Davidic authorship of Psalm 41, are there any points in the life of David that can corroborate with the details of the psalm?

According to Briggs, the traditional Sitz en Leiben of the betrayal and sheer disadvantage displayed in Psalm 41 is that of David’s encounters with Ahithophel of Gilo, his former counselor on the side of his usurping son Absalom (2 Sam 15:1–17:29).[20] It is important to recall that one of the difficulties aligning the setting of the Psalms with the life of David is that not everything was recorded for posterity. Additionally, the narrative language may not always align with the emotional nature of poetry. So, despite the traditional election of Ahithophel (Psa 41:9), it is merely a traditional reading. Consequently, the betrayal by Absalom and Ahithophel may not be what David had intended.

Nevertheless, it is worth considering the relationship between Ahithophel and David. Ahithophel was once a trusted counselor of David (2 Sam 15:31, 34). Ahithophel’s legacy is summed up in 2 Samuel 23:34 as one of David’s mighty men, and in two verses in 1 Chronicles 27:33–34, he “was the king’s counselor… [and] was succeeded by Jehoiada the son of Benaiah, and Abiathar.” He was a man in David’s inner inner circle.

Ahithophel was “David’s counselor” who was successfully courted by David’s embittered son Absalom to overthrow his father as king of Israel in a coup d’é·tat (2 Sam 15:1–12). The tragedy is that his counsel was esteemed “as if one consulted the word of God” (2 Sam 16:23), so his complicity in the conspiracy to overthrow David cut deep (2 Sam 15:31). David, now living on the run and vulnerable, prays to the Lord for the undoing of Ahithophel. Although there is no explicit claim that the Lord rose up Hushai the Archite, this “friend” of David serves as a counter-intelligence spy and undermines confidence in Ahithophel’s military plans against David (2 Sam 15:32–37; 16:15–17:22).

Without explanation, the end of Ahithophel is revealed:

When Ahithophel saw that his counsel was not followed, he saddled his donkey and went off home to his own city. He set his house in order and hanged himself, and he died and was buried in the tomb of his father. (2 Samuel 17:23)

Is this specifically what David meant when he lamented in faith?

Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me. But you, O Lord, be gracious to me, and raise me up, that I may repay them! By this I know that you delight in me: my enemy will not shout in triumph over me. But you have upheld me because of my integrity, and set me in your presence forever. (Psalm 41:9-12)

It is hard to dismiss it even if there is not a clear explicit connection.

Nine hundred years later in the New Testament, the Lord Jesus affirms that this is a reference to Judas (John 13:18). It seems that while David through the Spirit referred to his own situation–whatever it was, the Spirit hid within it a prophecy of betrayal concerning the coming Davidic Messiah likewise from deep within the inner circle. For this reason, Jesus could legitimately claim the Apostle Judas–trusted with the office of an Apostle and keeper of the group’s finances (Luke 6:12–16; John 12:6)–as the fulfillment of this Messianic prophecy. Just as in the case of Ahithophel, no clear motive is ever given for the betrayal of Jesus by Judas.

Theology

The theology of Psalm 41 is connected together by three internal figures: David, David’s God, and David’s enemies. David wrote a lament prayer to his God, who sees both his sinfulness and the injustice as he suffers at the hands of his own enemies, and repeatedly asks God for his gracious deliverance and vindication.

First, David’s lament calls on God’s people to learn the nerve-wracking truth that faithfulness to God will not always protect from the treachery and betrayal of those considered to be allies and members of one’s inner circle. David’s focus on the Lord provides a pathway for making the most important thing the priority: David knows his fellowship with God is unimpeded by his trials. David knows:

the Lord protects him and keeps him alive; he is called blessed in the land; you do not give him up to the will of his enemies (Psalm 41:2)

Second, the powerful king seems to have gone through an illness or some demonstration of weakness which emboldened his enemies to come into the light in anticipation of his collapse or death. David sees his inner court filled with two-faced loyalists, who secretly have grown disloyal to him waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves and exploit his weakness. If the story of David teaches one crucial theological truth it is that God’s anointed will suffer unjustly.

Third, God will vindicate the innocent and the compassionate. David’s ethical and moral life was turbulent. His moral lows are ethically grotesque while his spiritual highs show a deep conviction in aligning himself on the side of the Lord. David was fully aware of his sin but knew the God he served hated injustice and would help those who were poor, or of weak stature. There is comfort in knowing that even though a person may be so weak morally, spiritually, financially, or in health, God desires their protection and care. God will vindicate the taken advantage of.

Application

The message of Psalm 41 is a message for the ages. Many have had friends turn on them, and deliver a heart-piercing stab which only few can do. Intimate relationships can sometimes be vehicles for some to achieve what they want at the expense of those whom they hurt and abuse. We must have the confidence of the psalmist and take refuge in the Lord. The lament provides the language to speak to the Lord in prayer. The psalm calls on the saints to lean into the tragedies surrounding them in faith in the confidence that the Lord is not far from them.

Endnotes

  1. Unless otherwise noted all Scripture quotations are from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2001).
  2. While this sidesteps these important questions, prophecy and fulfillment are not the focus of this paper. In short, however, my conclusion is that while it is hard to determine the sense in which Jesus used plēroō, it seems likely he used it in a typological sense of fulfillment: as David the anointed king of Israel experienced betrayal in his kingdom, so too, the anticipated Davidic Messiah would be betrayed.
  3. C. Hassell Bullock, An Introduction to the Old Testament Poetical Books, revised ed. (Chicago: Moody, 1988), 125.
  4. S. Edward Tesh and Walter D. Zorn, Psalms (Joplin, MO: College Press, 1999), 1:306.
  5. Tesh and Zorn, Psalms, 1:309.
  6. Carroll Stuhlmeuller, Psalms (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1983), 1:221; Peter C. Craigie, Psalms 1-50 (Waco, TX: Word, 1985), 321; Robert G. Bratcher and William D. Reyburn, A Handbook on the Psalms (New York: United Bible Society, 1991), 391.
  7. Craigie, Psalms 1-50, 319.
  8. Charles Augustus Briggs and Emilie Grace Briggs, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Psalms (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, ), 1:361.
  9. Raymond B. Dillard and Tremper Longman, III, An Introduction to the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1994), 215–17.
  10. George A. F. Knight, Psalms (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1982), 1:8; Dillard and Longman, III, An Introduction, 216.
  11. Andrew E. Hill and John H. Walton, A Survey of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991), 274–75; Briggs and Briggs, Book of Psalms, 1:361.
  12. Willem A. Van Germeren, “Psalms” in Expository Bible Commentary, edited by Frank E. Gaebelien (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991): 5:325.
  13. Craigie, Psalms 1-50, 320.
  14. As this paper is primarily an examination of the English text, linguistic concerns as the following will not be explored: W. O. E. Oesterley discusses the abruptness that is characteristic of this psalm and the natural flow of poetic realism which “shows how very human the psalmists were,” he explains however, that the “text has undergone some corruption, and in one or two cases emendation is difficult and uncertain.” See, W. E. O. Oesterley, The Psalms: Translated with Text-Critical and Exegetical Notes, 4th ed. (London: SPCK, 1953), 1:238.
  15. Hugo McCord, The Everlasting Gospel: Plus Genesis, the Psalms, and the Proverbs, 4th ed. (Henderson, TN: Freed-Hardeman UP, 2000). Granted, McCord did not provide a stylized rendering of the Hebrew poetry, but he did set them in connected paragraphs.
  16. Tesh and Zorn, Psalms, 1:308–13; Stuhlmeuller, Psalms, 1:220–21.
  17. Knight, Psalms, 199.
  18. Craigie, Psalms, 320; Tesh and Zorn, Psalms, 1:312.
  19. Stuhlmeuller, Psalms, 1:223; W. Oesterley, The Psalms, 1:240.
  20. Briggs and Briggs, Book of Psalms,1:361.

Works Cited

Bratcher, Robert G., and William D. Reyburn. A Handbook on the Psalms. New York: United Bible Society, 1991.

Briggs, Charles Augustus, and Emilie Grace Briggs. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Psalms. Vol. 1. International Critical Commentary. Edinburgh: Clark,

Bullock, C. Hassell. An Introduction to the Old Testament Poetical Books. Rev. ed. Chicago: Moody, 1988.

Craigie, Peter C. Psalms 1-50. Word Biblical Commentary. Vol. 19. Gen. eds. David A. Hubbard and Glenn W. Barker. Waco, TX: Word, .

Dillard, Raymond B, and Tremper Longman, III. An Introduction to the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1994.

Hill, Andrew E., and John H. Walton. A Survey of the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991.

Knight, George A.F. Psalms. Vol. 1. Daily Study Bible: Old Testament. Gen. ed. John C.L. Gibson. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1982.

McCord, Hugo. The Everlasting Gospel: Plus Genesis, the Psalms, and the Proverbs. 4th ed. Henderson, TN: Freed-Hardeman UP, 2000.

Oesterley, W. E. O. The Psalms: Translated with Text-Critical and Exegetical Notes. 4th ed. London: SPCK, 1953.

Stuhlmeuller, Carroll. Psalms. Vol. 1. Old Testament Message. Vol. 21. Eds. Carroll Stuhlmeuller and Martine McNamara. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1983.

Tesh, S. Edward, and Walter D. Zorn. Psalms. Vol. 1. College Press NIV Commentary. Eds. Terry Briley and Paul J. Kissling. Joplin, MO: College, 1999.

VanGermeren, Willem A. “Psalms.” Expository Bible Commentary. Vol. 5. Gen. ed. Frank E. Gaebelein. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991.


Family Ministry: Evaluating Garland on “Power and Roles”

In the December 2015 issue of the Gospel Advocate magazine, my article, “The Widows Church of Christ” was published.[1] It focused on my experience one summer filling in at a small congregation near Freed-Hardeman University that at the time was composed exclusively of women and widows. In the piece, I briefly retold a conversation I had with one of the sisters there, rehearsed a few biblical examples of areas of women’s evangelistic involvement, and discussed women’s role in the assembly.

A reader called my attention to share her disagreement with the following few lines:

Scripture shows that Christian women prophesied and prayed in New Testament times (1 Corinthians 11:5; Acts 22:8-9), taught the Word of God accurately (Acts 18:26), and brought people to salvation (2 Timothy 1:5; 3:14-15). Christian women also served one another in many diverse ways (1 Timothy 5:2; Titus 2:3-5; Acts 9:36-43). Too, Christian women were patrons, fellow workers for the truth, and “house church” hostesses (Romans 16:1-16).[2]

She disagreed with my assessment, but not because the early church used women in its ministry. She said, “I disagree because we [i.e. women] are stupid.” I responded, “Who told you women are stupid?” She matter-of-factly responded, “we are.” I flatly denied her claim. I do not know who taught her this, all I know is that an entire life in the church has not changed her mind. Unfortunately, this has not been my only experience.

Many women in church ask me to speak on their behalf about ideas. Why? It is not because they are shy, but because they are “women” and women have no “right to share” ideas about the church. Perhaps it is not fair to put all the blame on the church. However, if the church truly embraces a culture of female dignity and equality as image-bearers of God, and equality as recipients of salvation (Gal 3:26-28), then it would be hoped that our sisters and fellow heirs in Christ should have a better perception of themselves as women in the church and society, and as wives and mothers in the home.

The issue at hand may be reduced to one word —power. Who has the power and who does not in the family, the church, in the world? Who should? Furthermore, what is power, and is it an innate quality or something else. The late Diana A. Garland (d. 2015), former dean of the Baylor School of Social Work at Baylor University, discusses power in detail within the sociological perspective of marital relationships and the impact of biblical interpretation in a chapter of her insightful volume, Family Ministry: A Comprehensive Guide.[3]

In it, she provides a working definition of power, explores Jesus’ teaching about power in Mark 9:33-37, summarizes gender roles in the home within the American context of the last century, and offers her interpretations of certain key biblical passages (Gen 1-3; Col 3:18-19; Eph 5:21-33, 1 Pet 3:1-6; 1 Cor 7, etc). It is argued here that Garland has presented a cohesive argument regarding power and Jesus’ teaching about power, but they are not complete discussions. Furthermore, Garland presents a brief social-historical summarization of gender roles which reflects a hierarchy —a model of marital headship— that has a built-in “inferiority of women” point of view. Garland’s interpretive trajectory is built on this framework.

This is problematic because Garland generalizes this viewpoint as one that is shared across cultures and eras, which it is not; moreover, she proceeds an attempt to dispel the notion that the biblical references of marriage and family headship do not teach an “inferiority of women” model. Garland offers an egalitarian framework, but although she raises important concerns, I believe a complementarian framework is a better-supported framework for matters of church work.

Definition of Power

Defining Power

In the first place, it is important to understand Garland’s point of view on power, gender roles, and hierarchy.[4] Garland provides a working definition of power that is helpful as a starting point for the present discussion and builds her discussion of power with M. Weber’s words in mind: “the probability that one person is able to exert his or her will despite resistance from others.” Such power may be an influence on another “whether or not that influence is resisted or even recognized by any of the actors.” From this it is suggested that power is not best thought of as a personal characteristic but instead as an influence from relational dynamics; thus, “power is,” Garland concludes, “a dynamic in all family relationships. We are always attempting to influence one another.”

While she regards power as ultimately “neutral” she points out that this relationship influence may be used for good (protect the vulnerable) or for ill (take advantage of the vulnerable).

Power and Gender Hierarchy

Garland paints a picture of a community and culture which shapes a power dynamic within the family that has historically given men more power in marriage than women.[5] Similarly, family theorists David H. Olson and John DeFrain suggest: “Tradition has dictated that considerable power go to the males in the family,” and add the caveat, “but women often have more power than they or anyone else admit.”[6] Still, Garland argues that culture and economics have played a historic role in reinforcing certain gender roles in the home and the workforce.

For example, Garland argues that in “traditional” homes husbands earned a living for the family, and gave their wives “an allowance,” and the wife, in turn, managed the emotional and interpersonal relationships of the home. As an extension of the prevailing culture, the church followed suit by emphasizing strong hierarchal gender roles where men had authority and power, while women were expected to submit and obey their husbands in keeping with a military-type paradigm of authority and submission.[7]

Vulnerable and Inferior Women

This unavoidably led to what Garland speaks of as a view of hierarchy—or headship—with a built-in “inferiority of woman” model. In this view, women are vulnerable, in need of protection, in need of structure, and in need of a man to insulate them from the attacks of Satan.[8] She cites Judith Miles as her “poster child” of this viewpoint, who argues in her own work, “I was to treat my own human husband as though he were the Lord, resident in our own humble home.”[9] Consequently, she would never question her husband on anything because such was to question the Lord himself.

Unfortunately, not only did some hold that women were theologically vulnerable, but some even advocated women were emotionally not “up to the task” of ministry. The rise of a liberation movement of women stems was therefore a response to this form of hierarchy model that held an implied inferiority view of women. As the woman’s liberation movement emerged in the 1960s and 1970s, the church, according to Garland, was threatened by the rise of demands by women for better (egalitarian) family relationships.

This is Garland’s starting point: a historically rigid view of hierarchy and gender roles in society and the home as reinforced by society and church, which not only implied an “inferior woman” model but in many cases overstated the headship of man.

Inferiority Illustrated

Garland’s portrayal should not be dismissed out of hand as it relates to the American church. The relationship between culture and church is not always easily discernible. The church has been affected by this type of “inferior women” hierarchy and has been reaping the whirlwind of this type of gender oversimplification. A few examples are in order.

Roy H. Lanier, Sr., in his Contending for the Faith column, “The Problem Page,” once responded to a letter from an elder’s wife.[10] Her problem focused on her husband’s mistreatment and undermining of her maternal role based on stereotypical female “problems” (emotional and biological). His dismissive treatment of her had now trickled down to their children. Lanier’s response was extensive and centered on a demonstration from Ephesians 5:21–33 that headship does not permit, nor condone, such treatment. Lanier argued, “it is obvious that her husband does not love her as Christ loves His church.”[11]

In F. Dale Simpson’s 1972 book on leadership, Simpson addressed the problem of women in the mission field: “most married missionaries have to overcome the resistance of their wives to go to a foreign mission field.”[12] Therefore, while

women are biologically stronger than men… are as intelligent as men and more careful about details… women are not as temperamentally suited for carrying out the great commission as men.

F. Dale Simpson, Leading the First-Century Church in the Space Age

Simpson offers only his experience and his opinion about the temperament of women in the mission field.

Long-time missionary and educator, Earl D. Edwards, provides a correction based on several behavioral studies.[13] Edwards rightly points out that different genders tend to have differences that are present at birth and socially amplified; yet, such gender-specific roles (functions) are gender differences and are not a reflection of gender inferiorities or superiorities.[14]

The Struggle is Real

In short, Garland is addressing a real problem about church culture and power, and how it relates to women and wives. It strikes at the heart of a woman’s worth in the home and in the church, and in ministry in general. The church would be wise to hear her call to be alert to this problem. However, Garland does not reject a simply abusive hierarchal power within the marriage as expressed in certain stereotyped gender roles. She clearly rejects any hierarchy with a power structure within marriage—i.e., male headship is not biblical and therefore not normative biblical teaching.

Jesus’ Teaching on Power

In the second place, Garland moves toward a brief exploration of Jesus’ teaching about power in Mark 9:33–37 and uses it to frame her discussion of power dynamics within two broad Christian family contexts: gender roles and discipline.[15]

And they came to Capernaum. And when he was in the house he asked them, “What were you discussing on the way?” But they kept silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest. And he sat down and called the twelve. And he said to them, “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.” And he took a child and put him in the midst of them, and taking him in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.” (Mark 9:33–37 ESV)

In this passage, Jesus’ illustrates and demonstrates the true use of power in light of the fact that the disciples had been arguing over “who was the greatest” (Mark 9:34).[16] The passage is, then, a corrective focused on “how his followers should use what they have to serve others rather than exalt themselves.”[17] Indeed, greatness is measured in service, in welcoming the smallest, least powerful, to the most vulnerable of society (Mark 9:35). Unfortunately, the disciples still did not retain the lesson since Jesus must correct them again (Mark 10:13–14); yet, Garland sees Jesus’ point as follows:

Rather than using your power to benefit yourself, use it to serve and benefit others. Order your life as Christians by protecting and caring for those most at risk of others abusing their power.[18]

Diana Garland, Family Ministry

Garland affirms that Jesus “used his own power to care for them” by completing the passion of the cross which he predicts three times (Mark 8:31; 9:30–31; 10:32–34). Power is never conserved for oneself but instead is the instrument to serve others. Elsewhere Jesus says,

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

Garland’s Miscue

What appears to be lacking in Garland’s treatment of power in Mark 9:33–37 is the broader literary concern with discipleship in the kingdom of God which begins in Mark 8:26 and ends in Mark 10:52.[19] This is not a small matter because, in Mark 8:34, Jesus frames the discussion of true discipleship: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”

To follow Jesus means to submit to his plan, to submit to one’s role in the kingdom of God. “Discipleship… comes then with the commitment to humility and self-denial, rejection and suffering.”[20] The hard lesson the disciples continued to fail to appropriate is that the kingdom of God is at the disposal of others—especially the vulnerable—is the transformative experience of discipleship. Thus, power and one’s role are interwoven. Jesus demonstrates this by submitting to his role as God’s servant on the cross (Luke 22:42).

The matter is not simply about power and influence, for Mark 9:33–37 and Mark 10:13–16 teach that discipleship includes one’s submission to God’s transforming kingdom. It is not that Garland is wrong, but that her framing appears incomplete which, for the attention given to her work overall, is a significant oversight.

Overgeneralizations on Power and Gender Roles

In the third place, Garland generalizes that power and gender roles have been male-dominated across cultures and eras, which it is not.[21] This is an important drawback. The American church may be influenced by the surrounding culture and societal gender role expectations (even as traditional roles are presently eroding), but extrapolating from it that all cultures share a similar or comparable power structure along gender lines in families is problematic.

Cultural Anthropology

Not all cultures share the same expectations for gender roles. For example, Paul G. Hiebert, anthropologist and missionary, writes,

while most societies place some responsibility on the father for rearing the child, this is not universal. But the biological and social dependency of an infant on its mother is recognized in all social societies.[22]

Paul G. Hiebert, Cultural Anthropology

It appears that certain biological relationships (mother-child) have built-within them influences that exert power on behaviors, and while they may manifest differently in various cultures, they do not imply inferiority or lack of equality. These relationships, do, however, create forms of power management that can create a displacement of power. This is a vital element to evaluate Garland’s overarching premise that power exercised implies the inferiority of one influenced by another.

The Psychology of Parental Authority

Psychologists David G. Myers and C. Nathan DeWall describe that within parent-child relationships authority, or, power, is observable in three parenting styles: authoritarian, permissive, and authoritative.[23] The extent to which parents try to control their children is, “the most heavily researched aspect of parenting.” Parents either “set rules and expect obedience” (authoritarian) which tends to affect their children’s social skills and self-esteem. Or, they “give in to their children’s desires” (permissive) which tends to develop children who are agreeable and immature. And, parents who “are both demanding and responsive” (authoritative) tend to produce children who are well-rounded emotionally and socially.

A parent’s use, abuse, or nonuse of power can tend to have drastically different outcomes. The presumed element here in these relationships is that a parent is in a hierarchal relationship with their children (cf. Eph 6:1-4), and within this relationship, power is being managed and applied. Garland’s overarching point is that this is in principle antithetical to Jesus’ teaching on power, but power and role are inseparable. 

Family Power Management

Olson and DeFrain explore the wide range of “family power” management which is of significance here. According to them, “family power is the ability of one family member to change the behavior of the other family members.”[24] And while Garland concedes that “power” and “influence” are morally neutral, she approaches the subject of gender roles, power, and marriage from a morally negative point of view. Yet, as Olson and DeFrain point out, power —particularly family power— is a complex, dynamic interactive feature of a family system. Everyone in a family has power and everyone exerts it on the other member of the family. Even infants, according to Garland, have power. Yet, Garland suggests that a male headship hierarchy historically has mitigated women’s power in the marriage relationship, and therefore, empowers men and silences women, encouraging male power and delegitimizing female power and influence. Garland is not wrong if painting with broad strokes.

Marital Hierarchy

Garland’s argument that the removal of the hierarchy in male-female roles in marriage and family, and therefore must be applied to the church, is problematic.

Garland attempts to dispel the notion that the biblical references to marriage and family headship do not teach an “inferiority of women” model. The creation account in Genesis 1–3 “provides,” according to Garland, “the primary foundation for a hierarchical understanding of husband-wife relationships.”[25] The order of creation does not prove male headship nor female submission; instead, Garland proposes that the pre-fall notation of “them” in Genesis 1:26–31 suggests shared dominion, shared identity, and a shared name. Moreover, the woman was not simply a “helpmeet” (KJV), but instead, is a soul-mate helper who is a “bone-and-flesh mirror image of the man who remains incomplete without her.”[26]

The Hebrew term ‘ezer certainly points to a “help” that comes from someone strong (Gen 2:20), as it is used in “warrior-esque” passages (Deut 33:29; Ezek 12:14), and is even used to describe God (Exod 18:4; Psa 121:1–2, 8). Thus, this is not a chain-of-command relationship where Eve is the weaker and more vulnerable of the two.

Garland provides a view of these passages that are cohesive and within reason of the evidence, but it is in Genesis 3:16, where the trouble lies. Garland argues that change after the fall is not a curse from God, but instead a pronouncement by God of how the relationship between Adam and Eve will now be.

In her view, God is being descriptive, not prescriptive. This is not an edict that imposes a new hierarchical relationship based on gender. Observe Garland’s argument that the fall

results in dire consequences for their relationship: the husband now shall rule over the wife. This new development implies that it was not what God had originally determined for their relationship. The dominance of the husband in Genesis 3:16 is described, not prescribed… it is the consequence of their joint disobedience.

Thus, the idea of hierarchical gender relationships is nothing but “a perversion of God’s intention in creation. The partnership has been destroyed. Sin disfigures the good God offered us.“[27] A variety of authors have offered a similar take in recent years. Linda L. Belleville, for example, is certainly at the forefront of pressing this interpretive option against the traditional view of male headship from Genesis 2–3.[28] Belleville, likewise affirms:

male rule finds no explicit place in the Bible’s theology at all. Adam’s sin is noted (Rom 5:12-19; 1 Cor 15:20-22), as is Eve’s deception (2 Cor 11:3; 1 Tim 2:14). But the man’s rule over the woman is not cited even once (not even for the husband-wife relationship). The simple fact is that male rule does not reappear in the OT. The woman is nowhere commanded to obey the man (not even her husband), and the man is nowhere commanded to rule the woman (not even his wife).[29]

Belleville likewise suggests that Genesis 3:16 is a statement of the natural outcomes of the husband-wife relationship to follow due to the “fallen condition” of the world.

Garland, Headship, and the Biblical Narrative

It is the view taken here, in response to Garland––and to some degree Belleville––that Genesis 1:1–2:3 and 2:4–25 do provide the foundation for the traditional view of gender roles and should be regarded as normative.[30] The account of day six in Genesis 1 is a broad-picture passage. It speaks to the equality shared between man and woman as a distinct created order, or class, that is made in the image of God, and for this reason, have a human responsibility together to “have dominion… Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it” (Gen 1:26–28). But, when day six is given an expanded view in 2:4–25, the foundation for how human power is to be managed is explained—it is to be done in a relationship with someone just like Adam.

This power and influence are managed between husband and wife (2:20–24). And while the family power style is not explained in Genesis 2, Genesis 3:16 becomes an informative model of the way the husband-wife relationship exists outside the garden due to sin as God punished Adam (3:17–19) and the serpent (3:14–15), so God punishes Eve (3:16).

Problems with the Descriptive View

The argument that God is only describing how things will be, clearly undermines several theological themes which begin at this point. These are not mere descriptions of the fallen world.

First, God declared the serpent’s dust-filled days but also that he will feel the consequence of a crushed head by “the woman’s” offspring. This is not descriptive, this is a proclamation of Divine action and judgment upon the serpent, and salvation for humanity (John 16:11).

Second, God declared that Adam would face further hardship in the production of food and nourishment. Adam already understood work. He knew how to til and maintain the vegetation of the garden since day six (2:15). Whatever is forthcoming outside the garden for him is new and punishment for his sin. They are consequential.

And finally, God addresses Eve’s actions with further pain associated with childbearing and nuance to the relationship between her and her husband. When God says, “I will surely” do this and that, it must be interpreted as a consequence. The most pertinent here is the following, “Your desire shall be contrary to your husband, but he shall rule over you” (Gen 3:16b).

The curse upon Eve is clearly speaking of a matter of power management within the husband-wife relationship. It is the same vocabulary and issue of power management in Genesis 4:7 with Cain and his personified anger who desired to control Cain. Cain must rule over its desire. Moreover, the language is found again in the Song of Solomon, where the bride turns this “curse” into a wedding vow, “I am my beloved’s, and his desire is for me” (Song 7:10). Contrary to Belleville’s claim that the “simple fact is that male rule does not reappear in the OT,” the Bible does recognize implicitly male headship.

Biblically Grounded Patriarchy is Never Condemned

Interestingly, Old Testament scholar Bruce K. Waltke points out that of all the social injustices mentioned by the prophets of Israel, patriarchy is never mentioned among them. Following Abraham Heschel, he argues:

They challenged the injustices of their culture. The prophet is an iconoclast, challenging the apparently holy, revered and awesome beliefs cherished as certainties, institutions endowed with supreme sanctity. They exposed the scandalous pretensions, they challenged kings, priests, institutions and even the temple.[31]

Waltke is probably correct when he argues that the problem that often affects interpretation is the definitions of concepts of patriarchy and equality brought to bear on the texts of Scripture. Eve was every bit Adam’s equal. They both shared the power and authority over the creation given to them by God. That power was to be worked out in their marriage in some form of family power style.

In Genesis and throughout the rest of the Bible, the family power structure to manage power is a hierarchy, with the husband as head of the wife and as Christ head of the church (Eph 5:23). Yet, such headship does not exist in a vacuum. A husband’s headship does not exist properly without being sacrificial, loving, or nourishing. Neither does it embrace a tyrannical hold on his wife. He is to be as self-sacrificing as Jesus was and is for the church. If the husband is head of the wife as Christ is head of the church —his bride— then one should be careful in calling headship structure “a perversion of God’s intention” and a “partnership” destroyed as Garland has. For this reason, her work and view would be detrimental to family ministry.

Endnotes

  1. Jovan Payes, “The Widows Church of Christ,” Gospel Advocate 157.12 (Dec 2015): 29–30.
  2. Payes, “Widows Church of Christ,” 30.
  3. “Power and Roles” is chapter 11 in Diana R. Garland, Family Ministry: A Comprehensive Guide, 2d ed. (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2012), 370–411.
  4. Garland, Family Ministry, 370. All proceeding quotations in this paragraph are from page 370.
  5. Garland, Family Ministry, 372.
  6. David H. Olson and John DeFrain, Marriages and Families: Intimacy, Diversity, and Strengths, 4th ed. (New York, NY: McGraw-Hill, 2003), 213. Power, control, and authority are continuously exercised in families, and struggles for personal power in families are exceedingly common. 
  7. Garland, Family Ministry, 372.
  8. Garland, Family Ministry, 373.
  9. Ibid.
  10. Roy H. Lanier, Sr., “An Elder’s Wife has a Problem,” 20 Years of the Problem Page (Abilene, TX: Quality, 1984), 1:177–81.
  11. Lanier, “An Elder’s Wife,” 178.
  12. F. Dale Simpson, Leading the First-Century Church in the Space Age (Abilene, TX: Quality Printing, 1972), 121–22. 
  13. Earl D. Edwards, “The Role of Women in the Work and Worship of the Church,” Protecting Our Blind Side: A Discussion of Contemporary Concerns in churches of Christ (Henderson, TN: Hester Publications, 2007), 255–57.
  14. Edwards, “Role of Women,” 156–57.
  15. Garland, Family Ministry, 371–72.
  16. Unless otherwise stated all Scripture quotations are taken from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2001).
  17. Garland, Family Ministry, 371.
  18. Garland, Family Ministry, 371.
  19. Jovan Payes, “Leaders Stand Up for the Weak,” In My Place: The Servant Savior in Mark, ed. Douglas Y. Burleson (Delight, AR: Gospel Light, 2015), 376–77.
  20. Payes, “Leaders Stand Up,” 376.
  21. Garland, Family Ministry, 372–92.
  22. Paul G. Hiebert, Cultural Anthropology, 2d ed. (1983; repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1999), 197.
  23. David G. Myers and C. Nathan DeWall, Psychology in Everyday Life, 3rd ed. (New York, NY: Worth Publishers, 2014), 84.
  24. Olson and DeFrain, Marriage and Families, 213.
  25. Garland, Family Ministry, 374.
  26. Garland, Family Ministry, 376.
  27. Garland, Family Ministry, 376–77. Emphasis original.
  28. See Linda L. Belleville, “Women in Ministry: An Egalitarian Perspective,” Two Views on Women in Ministry, rev. ed., ed. James R. Beck (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005), 21–103.
  29. Belleville, “Women in Ministry,” 31.
  30. Bruce K. Waltke, “The Role of Women in the Bible,” Crux 31.3 (Sept 1995): 29–40; reprinted in Bruce K. Waltke, The Dance Between God and Humanity: Reading the Bible Today as the People of God (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2013), 457–75.
  31. Waltke, “The Role of Women in the Bible,” 30.

Bibliography

Beck, James R. Editor. Two Views on Women in Ministry. Revised edition. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005.

Edwards, Earl D. Protecting Our “Blind Side”: A Discussion of Contemporary Concerns in churches of Christ. Henderson, TN: Hester Publications, 2007.

Garland, Diana R. Family Ministry: A Comprehensive Guide. 2d edition. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2012.

Hiebert, Paul G. Cultural Anthropology. 2d edition. 1983. Repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1999.

Lanier, Roy H., Sr. 20 Years of the Problem Page. 2 volumes. Abilene, TX: Quality Publications, 1984.

Myers, David G., and C. Nathan DeWall. Psychology in Everyday Life. 3rd edition. New York, NY: Worth Publishers, 2014.

Olson, David H., and John DeFrain. Marriages and Families: Intimacy, Diversity, and Strengths. 4th edition. Boston, MA: McGraw-Hill, 2003.

Payes, Jovan. “Leaders Stand Up for the Weak.” Pages 375–81 in In My Place: The Servant Savior in Mark. Edited by Douglas Y. Burleson. Delight, AR: Gospel Light, 2015.

_____. “The Widows Church of Christ.” Gospel Advocate 157.12 (Dec 2015): 29–30.

Simpson, F. Dale. Leading the First Century Church in the Space Age. Abilene, TX: Quality Printing, 1972.

Waltke, Bruce K. The Dance Between God and Humanity: Reading the Bible Today as the People of God. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2013.

_____. “The Role of Women in the Bible.” Crux 31.3 (Sept 1995): 29–40.


A Time for Self-Defense (Esther 8)

[This is a pre-publication version of the chapter submission for the 87th Annual Freed-Hardeman University Lectureship (2023), Henderson, Tennessee. This is part of the lectureship book: For Such a Time as This: Restoring God’s People in Ezra, Nehemiah, and Esther (Link to book). Listen to the audio lecture as delivered here.]


In 483 B.C., Esther (Hadassah, Esth. 2:7) and her adoptive Jewish father-figure Mordecai rise to the innermost court of King Ahasuerus (Xerxes I, 486–465 B.C.) only to face the malcontent Haman who desires to eliminate the Jews spread across the vast Persian empire[1] through a state-sanctioned “pogrom” (Esth. 3:1–15, 5:9–14).[2] In chapter eight, Esther and Mordecai take advantage of Haman’s missteps and execution (cf. Esth. 6:13; 7:1–10).

The ascendant Mordecai uses his newly minted authority to issue a “self-defense” law protecting these diaspora Jews from this state-sanctioned genocide. They may now protect themselves from Haman’s pogrom across the Persian empire (Esth. 8:9). Esther inaugurates the Feast of Purim to commemorate their deliverance (Esth. 9:20–32). Since ancient times, the book is read as part of this spring feast along with “noisy, merry and secular” merriment (Webb 111).

The narrative of Esther leads the reader to reflect on the interplay between “coincidence,” human evil, divine sovereignty, and Israel’s preservation through its conflict-resolution story-arch. Esther 8 continues to speak to God’s people who must often live in hostile, secular, or unfavorable societies, calling on the faithful to endure the “Hamans” of their own time and to trust in God who can reverse the fate of his people.

EXEGESIS

Genre and Literary Movement

Esther is written in historical prose and outlines this history in dilemma-resolution format: how will the Jews of the Persian diaspora survive a state-sanctioned pogrom? The answer provides the historical foundation for the celebration of Purim. The narrative moves forward through a series of unfolding “coincidences” within the Persian court of Ahasuerus quickly immersing the reader into the crux of the story (Arnold and Beyer 272).[3] The artistry and realism of this story rely heavily on humor (satire), irony, and recurring motifs (Longman and Dillard 219–20). Clearly, Esther offers a unique kind of historical storytelling, one which forces the reader to conclude God is at work protecting his people from genocide.

Esther 8:1–17 is critical to the literary progression of the book’s plot as it functions as a bridge to the resolution of the narrative (LaSor, Hubbard, Bush 534–37). Haman’s plot to “destroy” the Jews by decree in a year’s time is introduced (3:1–15), and Mordecai successfully enlists Queen Esther to intercede (4:1–5:8). Matters complicate when an infuriated Haman plans to kill Mordecai on the “gallows” (5:9–6:14). [All Scripture references are from the English Standard Version unless otherwise noted.]

During a feast, the effect of Haman’s pogrom on Esther and against her people is revealed to the king; then, by a colossal misunderstanding, Haman is executed on the gallows built for Mordecai (7:1–10). Mordecai ascends to Haman’s position, with his estate, and then writes an edict authorizing the provincial Jews to protect themselves (8:1–17). This only partially resolves the problem. The full resolution takes place later in the “battle” of Purim (9:1–19).

Exegetical Analysis

Esther 8:1–17 reports how Mordecai and Esther “revoke” the disgraced Haman’s pogrom by authorizing the diaspora Jews across the Persian empire to protect themselves.

The Succession of Mordecai (Esth. 8:1–2)

Haman is treated as an “enemy of the state.” Following Haman’s execution (Esth. 7:10), the “foe and enemy” of the Jews is treated as “an enemy of the state” by the confiscation and transference of his estate and his position to Mordecai (Esth. 7:6; 8:1–2). Zeresh, Haman’s wife, had previously given him an ominous prediction of his impending failure (6:13). King Ahasuerus moves quickly to settle the custody of Haman’s estate, his position, and the royal signet ring.

According to ancient custom, traitors and other enemies of the state would have their wealth confiscated by the state. Haman himself included this element in his plan, likely to remunerate the potential taxes lost with the elimination of the Jews (Esth. 3:9, 13; Berlin 41). Limiting the evidence to ancient historians aware of this practice in Persia, consider two examples. Herodotus reports a comparable story that King Darius I (521–486 BC) avenged the wrongful “destruction” of Mitrobates and his son by executing Oroetes (Satrap of Lydia), confiscating his estate and returning it to Susa (Histories 3.127–129).[4] Josephus published a letter from Cyrus II (559–529 BC) to the returning Jewish exiles under governor Zerubbabel, cautioning that any Jews who violate his “injunctions” for the rededication of the temple would be crucified and “their substance brought into the king’s treasury” (Antiquities 11.17; Ezra 6:11).[5]

The second movement is the promotion of Mordecai to Haman’s role as “vizier.”[6] Interestingly, Herodotus recounts the promotion to “ruler of Cilicia” of a relatively unknown Persian figure named Xenagoras, for saving King Xerxes’ brother Masistes (Histories 9.107.3). The event is comparable, but not exact, in that Mordecai was already known and honored by the King; further, Mordecai is elevated much higher (Esth. 3:1–2).

Wasting no time, on the second day of the feast (Esth. 7:2; 8:1), Mordecai receives the king’s signet ring previously entrusted to Haman (Esth. 3:10; 8:1). This is a significant move of power reversal. Apparently, the ring remained with Haman until his execution, but now it is entrusted to Mordecai (Esth. 8:2). This brief “ceremony” mirrors the problem-solution pattern of Haman’s edict, finalizing with Mordecai’s public recognition as the king’s “vizier” (8:15–17). Progress toward a resolution continues, and hope is taking root.

The Countermand of Haman’s Pogrom (Esth. 8:3–8)

Haman’s death has not annulled his pogrom, however, since it is irrevocable (Esth. 3:12). Clearly, the narrative has shifted in the right direction but not far enough. All is not lost, but all is not gained. Queen Esther and the newly minted vizier must continue to find a way to realize the hope of “relief and deliverance” the Jews desperately need as the pogrom looms nine months away (Esth. 8:9, 12). Will it come from “another place” (Esth. 4:14)—i.e., God—or will Esther and Mordecai sense the urgency to use their high position to preserve their fellow Jews (Kaiser, et al. 252)? Will these series of fortunate events continue?

Esther initiates a dialogue with King Ahasuerus by daringly asserting herself through humble intercession (fell to his feet, weeping, pleading; Esth. 8:3). Esther is still committed to her resolve, “if I perish, I perish” (Esth. 4:16), as her words were about a week’s time old (Esth. 4:16; 5:1, 4, 8, 9; 6:1; 7:1; 8:1). Esther’s gamble proved successful again (cf. Esth. 5:2), as the king grants her another unbidden audience by “holding out the golden scepter to Esther” (Esth. 8:4). This was a necessary risk, nothing had been truly gained since the pogrom was an unalterable law (Esth. 3:6). In the words of Cline, “How can an unalterable law be altered?” (Cline 393). This will prove to be the wrong question to ask. The king is asked to act one more time against Haman’s “plot” (Esth. 8:3). The solution does not prove to be straightforward.

The dialogue is framed as a short problem-solution interaction (Esth. 8:5–8). The king seems not to understand that Esther is representing more than just herself and Mordecai (Esth. 7:3–6). It is clear that Esther uses it all (her ancestry, her marriage, her favor) to her advantage as she seemly goes beyond court language. The rhetoric is loaded with this history in mind and she has not been afraid to use it on behalf of her people (Esth. 5:8; 7:3). She presumes on the “eye” of the king which she has gained (Esth. 8:5). Gaining the king’s favor has been her path from her time in the harem and nights with the king (Esth. 2:3, 12, 14), to gain his favor, love, and the crown (Esth. 2:15, 17).

The king himself will not personally “revoke” Haman’s letters with the plot against the Jews (Esth 8:5, 8). The word translated “revoke” (shūb), with a basic sense of “turn, return,” carries a wide spectrum of meanings in different contexts and relationships (BDB 996–99). This is apparent in Esther, such as a spatial “return” to a person (Esth. 2:14; 6:12; 7:8; 9:25), a verbal “response” (Esth. 4:13, 15), and politically to “reverse” a law (Esth. 8:5). The problem, again, is the law is an official irrevocable edict of the king (Esth. 8:8; cf. 1:9).

The king’s move is to delegate to another to write the law. Esther and Mordecai may use the authority of his name and his seal to “write” as they “please with regard to the Jews” (Esth. 8:8). Although a number of critical scholars balk at the supposed flippant way these irrevocable laws and their despotic use of power are enacted in Esther, the narrator’s historical knowledge of the inner workings of the Persian court commend good reason to believe its realism (Longman and Dillard 216, Archer 464–67, Kaiser, et al. 254). There is a subtle wrinkle in Ahasuerus’ words to Esther and Mordecai, as he seems to imply there is a way to countermand a law in such a way as to make it powerless (Esth. 8:10–12). They received authority, but not a map, highlighting that this could have gone as bad as it went well.

The Ascendency of Mordecai (Esth. 8:9–17)

Esther 8:9a timestamps Mordecai’s “self-defense law” to Sivan, twenty-third, 472/1 BC. This is about two months after Haman had enacted his pogrom on Nisan, the thirteenth of the same year (Esth. 3:7, 12). Looking forward, Mordecai only had about nine months to protect the Jews in Susa and across the Persian empire from genocide (Esth 8:12).

Esther 8:9b–14 reports how Mordecai commanded the king’s scribes to write the countermand “self-defense” edict and to dispatch its copies across the vast terrain of the Persian empire in a hurry. It is seemingly Mordecai’s first act of business. Little did Mordecai expect that when he exchanged messages with Esther to take her newfound position to protect the Jews (Esth. 4:11–17), he himself would also be God’s providential instrument. He looked for “relief and deliverance” from “another place,” even from Esther. This was perhaps an unexpected turn of events, as are all moments when God places “us” into the heart of the story.

Cline describes Mordecai’s countermand as “ingenious” (393). The king provided no direct advice but seemingly implied there was a loophole. Mordecai, then, read between the lines of power and “effectively” annulled it. Seemingly, he concluded that if a law cannot be revoked, it can be countermanded. The narrative mirrors Haman’s enactment of his pogrom (Esth. 3:12–15; 8:9b–14).[7] Mordecai’s decree is a revised duplicate of Haman’s original, but with significant differences. He adds the permission of the Jews to defend themselves with lethal force, even permitting them to plunder their aggressor’s goods (Esth. 8:11). Again, there has been movement but no final resolution. Two Persian laws exist, one which allows the Persians to attack the Jews, and another authorizing the Jews to protect themselves.

This new decree is sent out by “couriers, mounted on their swift horses that were used in the king’s service…” (Esth. 8: 10, 14). There was a courier road system established by Darius I, known as the “Royal Road” which extended from Susa to Sardis in the west (Yaumachi 1:343). On average, a route of 1,700 miles could be covered by the average person in ninety days (19 miles a day), but royal couriers (rākibum) could cover the same mileage in a week (243 miles a day) as they traded horses and rode through the night (Herodotus, Histories, 8.98; 5.52–53). Additionally, the “swift horses” (rékesh) are specialized horses used in the king’s royal dispatch systems (1 Kings 4:28; Mic. 1:13; BDB 940). In the course of about nine months (Sivan to Adar), these riders would carry multiple copies of the decree, likely engraved clay tablets, from Susa to all the provinces from India to Ethiopia.

The narrative quickly fades and opens to the public presentation of Mordecai in Susa, the capital, arrayed as a member of the royal court (fine royal garments, a great golden crown; Esth. 8:15). This is quite a turn of events for what initially seemed to be a “tag along” figure to his adoptive daughter. Only through a series of fortunate events, interwoven with despair, had he come to this point as the “invisible” hand of God protected his people in the diaspora of Persia. Mordecai’s presentation to the public is likely the first sign to the Jewish community in Susa that things in Persia have truly changed in their favor (Esth. 8:17).

What had become his ascendency story, quickly became the cause of the city of Susa to rejoice; but now more importantly this transition of power gifted the Jewish people four things: light, gladness, joy, and honor (Esth. 8:16). Additionally, the favor now given to Mordecai and his people led many citizens of Persia to “declared” (or “professed”) “themselves Jews” as well (Esth. 8:17). The form (miteyahadim) is unique in the Hebrew Bible. It is not clear if this is a “conversion” to Jewish beliefs, customs, or practices; or, pragmatically, aligning with the Jews for advantage (Berlin, 80; Mangano 110). Berlin is right, however, “there was no middle ground” (80). Much had been gained, but things still wait to play out. The glow of hope is on the horizon.

Finally, there is some “unfinished business” to round out this discussion. Since ancient rabbinic times, it has been suggested that the tension between Haman, the Agagite (Esth. 3:1), and the Jews in Persia materialized an extended hostility between God and the Amalekites (Webb 126–28). Exodus 17:14b reads, “that I will utterly blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven.” The notation that Haman is a descendent of Agag, king of the Amalekites (1 Sam. 15:8), seems to lend support to this view, though other possibilities may exist. In parody to the various nations with long-held grudges against Israel (Ammon, Edom, Moab, etc.; Ezek. 25:1–17), Mordecai seemingly only inflames Haman’s preexisting hostility toward all the Jews. This ancient tension seems like a likely explanation for the roots of Haman’s anti-Semitism.

Again, what are the odds that the chief antagonist and architect for the genocide was a descendant of Agag, king of the Amalekites the enemies of God (Deut. 25:17–18)? What are the odds, that the man who replaces him is Mordecai, a descendant from the same clan of King Saul (Esth. 2:5; 1 Sam. 9:1–2)? The demise of Haman and the ascendency of Mordecai seem to play out as part of God’s continued protection of Israel even if they are in Persia (Gen. 12:3).

ILLUSTRATIONS

The Hiddenness of God

In the original Quantum Leap series (1989–1993), a fictional Dr. Samuel Beckett created the technology to time travel within his own lifetime. The opening narrator to the show says Beckett was

driven by an unknown force to change history for the better… leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong…[8]

It was the first show I watched where a Sci-Fi show made God a subtle but hidden main character, who was significantly aligned with Beckett’s desire to do good. Even in the reboot, they raised the potential of God again,

Something supernatural is not entirely impossible. Sam Beckett believed that God was guiding the quantum accelerator.[9]

There are times in our lives when all we know is that God is doing something in our lives, but we must live in faithful service to God with the hope that we may one day learn what that “something” is.

The Corruption of Power

Although humanity was created to subdue the earth and have dominion over it for good (Gen. 1:28), history is replete of individuals amassing and abusing their power. These regimes have brought tremendous human evil into the world. Clay Jones outlines a short but appalling list (49–56):

  • Russia’s starving to death of 5–7 million people to quell an uprising of Ukrainians between 1932–1933;
  • Nazi Germany’s genocide of 6 million Jews and an equal amount of Poles, Ukrainians, Russians, Gypsies, and the handicapped;
  • in December 1937, 300,000 people were raped, tortured, and murdered by the Japanese army in an event known as “The Rape of Nanking”;
  • Mao Tse-tung (d. 1976) is known to have buried alive 46,000 scholars in China;
  • since 1973, the legal system of the United States has permitted us and our neighbors to put to death more than 58 million babies through abortion.

Esther 8 reminds us of the importance to use opportunities of power to protect, with force if necessary, the vulnerable against evil forces (Creach 96).[10]

APPLICATIONS

Timeless Applications

First, Let us pray for our civic and religious leaders “that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way” (1 Tim. 2:2). Imperfect people of God can be used as part of God’s sovereign economy over world affairs. The portrayals of Esther and Mordecai are not always flattering; in fact, they are very compromising.

Esther works her way through the harem to win the king’s favor. Mordecai is an arrogant man, whose spite likely accelerated Haman’s attack on the Jews. Nevertheless, they accepted that God is working through their rise to the royal court and used their opportunity to be God’s instruments to protect his people (Esth. 4:14; 8:1–17).

Second, let us live with confidence that God intervenes in our lives. Divine providence is purposeful intervention. A definition of providence defined by the “natural law” of deism is a dead end, as it fails to account for the supernatural nature of an interventional God. Providence is by definition a supernatural manipulation of the human story to accomplish God’s will.

The ascendency of Mordecai and the “self-defense” law of Esther 8 do not happen without a series of seemingly disconnected events orchestrated together for the common good of the diaspora Jews. Perhaps, providence may be described as a “nudge” (Philm. 15), but that nudge is the result of supernatural intervention.

Timely Applications

First, let us embrace the “exile” and “pilgrim” components of our faith. We do not have a border-bound nation as such, we are pilgrims and our citizenship is in heaven (1 Pet. 1:1, 17; 2:11). Most commentaries highlight the secular nature of Esther and the Jews in Persia, and yet, it is rich with faith, divine providence, divine faithfulness, and feasting and fasting. Western Christians are facing the overt secularization of the culture and our youth. Every generation needs to learn how to navigate the societies of our birth with love and godly concern to share the gospel, with the knowledge that our citizenship lies in the heavens (Phil. 3:20).

Second, let us use wisdom and prayerful patience when deciding when to use force to protect the vulnerable. Not every issue is genocide, nor is every social figure a Haman. As “social justice” issues reemerge as a cultural touchstone in the United States, the church must take on its challenge with wisdom, awareness of the issues, and humble approaches that empower every Christian with the confidence to speak truthfully and to act graciously against injustice in our communities.

Christians must not only distinguish between the obligations owed to the government and to God (Matt. 22:21) but also distinguish between what is just and unjust (Rom. 12:1–2). Martin Luther King, Jr., following Augustine, rightly observed, “an unjust law is no law at all” (lex iniusta non est lex).[11] God’s people must not fall prey to the fallacy, “it’s the law of the land,” when we have a higher law, “we must obey God rather than man” (Acts 5:29).

ENDNOTES

  1. The “decree” and “edict” which Haman organized to “destroy” the Jews and seize their wealth is often described as an ancient pogrom. A pogrom is “an organized massacre” and is particularly associated with the historical persecution of the Jews. For the purpose of this study, the term will be used alongside genocide.
  2. The story reflected in Esther is unique in that it is the only canonical text which provides information about the Jews between the return under Zerubbabel (538 B.C.) and Ezra (458 B.C.). The Jews living among the “127 provinces” represent the third group of Jews, those who did not return with Zerubbabel (Provan, Long, and Longman 295).
  3. David Allan Hubbard in his chapter on Esther notes, “Coincidences in Esther are the fingerprints of God’s hand at work” (LaSor, Hubbard, and Bush 538).
  4. This follows A. D. Godley’s translation of Herodotus, Histories.
  5. This follows William Whiston’s translation of Josephus, Antiquities.
  6. The type of figure Haman held described as being “advanced” and a throne “set” “above all of the officials with him” (Esth. 3:1–2), has given cause to describe him as the king’s vizier, or something along the lines of a Prime Minister. This is the role Mordecai now holds. A cuneiform tablet in Borsippa mentions the name Marduka, a financial official of King Xerxes I (cf. Ahasuerus), which is an Akkadian equivalent to Mordecai. Although it cannot be proved to be Esther’s Mordecai, the “coincidence, if only that, is very interesting” (Báez-Camargo 137).
  7. The parallels: the timestamp, the date for the law, the language of the edict, the use of the king’s scribes, the same recipients (satraps and governors), provincial languages and scripts, in the name of the king, the use of the king’s signet ring (with its unique crest), and dispatched by couriers.
  8. Words from the season one prologue of the original Quantum Leap series.
  9. Quote from the reboot season 1, episode 7, “O Ye of Little Faith.”
  10. Jerome F. D. Creach addresses the symbolic theology of God warring against “the enemies of God” (Sodom, Egypt, Amalek) while largely dismissing the historical reliability of Esther. Immaterial to his approach is his astute observation that the legacy of human evil “makes understandable other parts of the Bible that seem to permit violence in defense of the powerless and vulnerable” (96).
  11. An Unjust Law is no Law at All: Excerpts from ‘Letter from Birmingham Jail,” Intercollegiate Studies Institute, January 18, 2021, November 24, 2022.

WORKS CITED

An Unjust Law is no Law at All: Excerpts from ‘Letter from Birmingham Jail.” Intercollegiate Studies Institute. January 18, 2021. Accessed: November 24, 2022.

Archer, Gleason L. A Survey of Old Testament Introduction. 3rd edition. Chicago: Moody, 1994.

Arnold, Bill T., and Bryan E. Beyer. Encountering the Old Testament: A Christian Survey. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1999.

Báez-Camargo, Gonzalo. Archaeological Commentary on the Bible. Garden City: Doubleday, 1984.

Berlin, Adele. Esther. The JPS Bible Commentary. Edited by Nahum M. Sarna. Philadelphia, PA: Jewish Publication Society, 2001. Logos electronic edition.

(BDB) Brown, Francis, Samuel Rolles Driver, and Charles Augustus Briggs. Enhanced Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977. Logos electronic edition.

Cline, David J. A. “Esther.” Pages 387–94 in Harper’s Bible Commentary. Edited by James L. Mays. New York: Harper, 1988.

Creach, Jerome F. D. Violence in Scripture. Interpretation. Edited by Patrick D. Miller. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2013. Kindle edition.

Herodotus. The Histories. Trans. by A. D. Godley. Ed. A. D. Godley. Medford, MA: Harvard University Press, 1920. Logos electronic edition.

Jones, Clay. Why Does God Allow Evil? Compelling Answers for Life’s Toughest Questions. Eugene: Harvest House, 2017. Kindle edition.

Josephus, Flavius. The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged. Trans. William Whiston. Peabody: Hendrickson, 1987. Logos electronic edition.

Kaiser, Walter C., Jr., Peter H. Davids, F. F. Bruce, and Manfred T. Brauch. Hard Sayings of the Bible. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1996.

LaSor, William Sanford, David Allan Hubbard, and Frederic William Bush. Old Testament Survey: The Message, Form, and Background of the Old Testament. 2nd edition. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996.

Longman, Tremper, III., and Raymond B. Dillard. An Introduction to the Old Testament. 2nd Edition. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2006.

Mangano, Mark. Esther and Daniel. CPNIVC. Edited by Terry Briley and Paul Kissling. Joplin: College Press, 2001.

Provan, Ian, V. Phillips Long, Tremper Longman, III. A Biblical History of Israel. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2003.

Webb, Barry G. Five Festal Garments: Christian Reflections on the Song of Songs, Ruth, Lamentations, Ecclesiastes and Esther. New Studies in Biblical Theology. Edited by D. A. Carson. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2000.

Yamauchi, Edwin M. “Communications and Messengers.” Pages 337–57 in vol. 1 of Dictionary of Daily Life in Biblical and Post-Biblical Antiquity. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2014–2016.


Marcion and the Formation of the New Testament Canon

This paper discusses one particular complex external historical figure in the history of the shaping of the New Testament canon: Marcion of Sinope (c. AD 85–160) and his influence. Did Marcion create the idea to form a New Testament canon?

This is principally a historical exploration; however, there are numerous theological aspects that must be reflected upon and critiqued in order to have a functional and accurate understanding of Marcion’s role.

Factors and Dynamics

The history of the biblical canon is home to many overlapping complexities. The study of these aspects reveals the richness of canonical development, especially when one differentiates between the histories of the Hebrew and the Christian canons respectively.[1] 

Canonical development can be studied from a theological vantage point, taking into account theological motives for the collection of books; however, such theological motivations must also be placed in a historical framework.[2] On this point, note Nicolaas Appel: “the mystery of Scripture and faith of the Christian community go hand in hand. The canon of Scripture and human history cannot be separated.”[3] The development of the canon combines theology and history, consequently, one’s approach must of necessity intertwine these two factors.

These dynamics of theology and history may be described as internal and external factors. Church historian, Everett Ferguson, differentiates between these somewhat intuitive concepts:

The conviction of a new saving work of God in Christ, its proclamation by apostles and evangelists, and the revelation of its meaning and application by prophets and teachers, led naturally to the writing of these messages and their acceptance as authoritative in parallel with the books already regarded as divine. External factors did not determine that there would be a New Testament canon nor dictate its contents. However, external factors influenced the process of definition and likely hastened that process.[4]

(Ferguson, “Factors”)

The external factors are largely seen as “debates in the post-apostolic church” where the matter was how to find the “voice of revelation and authentic Christianity” in the midst of doctrinal controversy. Thus, as a matter of course, external factors helped in the “definition of the boundaries of right belief”–orthodoxy.[5]

Marcion’s influence in the church came about for several reasons and is not limited to his gnostic tendencies. Marcion rejected a large number of canonical works: the entire Old Testament, and all of the New Testament canon except for eleven edited documents (Luke, Romans-2 Thessalonians, Philemon). In essence, in creating a list of authoritative books it may be said that he created a canon, though likely this was a list of edited documents that represented his particular view of Christianity. Historically, Marcion’s list is considered the earliest “canonical list” of the new Christian community.[6] Consequently, a discussion has arisen, questioning if Marcion is “the father” of canonical development.

Marcion’s early second-century A.D. formation of a collection of authoritative documents affirming Christian faith is chronologically significant.[7] Until Marcion’s time, the post-apostolic church does not appear to have outlined a collection, consequently, some scholars believe that Marcion initiated the contours of the New Testament canon. Others believe a better explanation is that Marcion merely sped along a pre-existing process. After all, the theological principle of the canon was well understood among Jewish Christians, having a canonical set of books of their own.[8]

Additionally, the apostles’ oral preaching and written instruction to the churches demonstrated their authority.[9] But what shall be here presented is that from a practical point of view, a fluid form of a “canon” existed in the late first century and early second century, even if quantitatively incomplete.[10] If this can be shown, then Marcion is not the creator of the idea of the Christian canon.[11]

Marcion of Sinope (c. AD 85–160)

Background

One cannot understand Marcion’s role in the formation of the canon without consideration of his life and beliefs. Church historian, Philip Schaff, remarks that Marcion was raised in a Christian tradition in Pontus near the Black Sea; in fact, his father was a bishop of Sinope in Pontus.[12] Despite being zealous and sacrificial, “due to some heretical opinions,” Schaff observes, he “was excommunicated by his own father, probably on account of his heretical opinions and contempt for authority.”[13]

After leaving Pontus, Marcion traveled to Rome (A.D. 140–155), joined Cerdo (a Syrian Gnostic), and popularized his views among the various Italian churches during his preaching tours.[14] It was during this period that Marcion made a name for himself in Christian history, as he advanced his Christian-based Gnostic teaching, and edited a corpus of New Testament works. Bruce Metzger notes that Marcion was eventually excommunicated in Rome for his heretical views.[15] This move only solidified Marcion as a significant heretic of his time, so much so, that Edwin Yamauchi ranks him among the top eight Gnostic heretics of the second and third centuries.[16]

A Gnostic Heretic

Marcion is “known” as a Gnostic heretic of the ancient church, but one must be cautious regarding such labels. Harold Brown provides one particular strong reason why. Brown distinguishes between the gnostic movement  –“a widespread religious phenomenon of the Hellenistic world at the beginning of the Christian Era”– and the Christian manifestation of this movement designated Gnosticism (lowercase g, versus uppercase G).[17] Brown’s distinction is noteworthy as the Christian gnostic movement, Gnosticism, was “a response to the widespread desire to understand the mystery of being: it offered detailed, secret knowledge of the whole order of reality, claiming to know and to be able to explain things of which ordinary, simple Christian faith was entirely ignorant.”[18]

As a fundamental aspect of this belief, existence was viewed as “a constant interplay between two fundamental principles, such as spirit and matter, soul and body, good and evil.”[19] But the gnostic worldview and its Christian mutation are not monolithic.

Edwin Yamauchi notes that Marcion “was not a typical Gnostic. He stressed the need of faith rather than gnosis. But his attitude toward the Old Testament was typically Gnostic.”[20] Thus, Marcion was not always fully aligned with other Gnostic ideas. Despite this distinction, it is noteworthy to see how Irenaeus (b. AD 130), a contemporary critic of Marcion, describes Marcion’s influence and placement among the gnostics in the church.

Irenaeus places Marcion within the stream of Cerdo, a second-century gnostic teacher:

Marcion of Pontus succeeded him [Cerdo], and developed his doctrine. In so doing, he advanced the most daring blasphemy against Him who is proclaimed as God by the law and the prophets, declaring Him to be the author of evils, to take delight in war, to be infirm of purpose, and even to be contrary to Himself.[21]

(Against Heresies 1:27:2)

Irenaeus affirms a connection between Cerdo and Marcion flavored with “passing of the heretical torch” overtones. Justin Martyr (c. AD 100–165) regarded him as one who “the devils put forward” (1 Apology 58); moreover, Irenaeus reports that, “Polycarp himself replied to Marcion, who met him on one occasion and said, ‘Dost thou know me?’ ‘I do know thee, the first-born of Satan’” (Against Heresies 3.3.4).

Ferguson suggests patristic descriptions like these of Marcion are rather important because it demonstrates how the early church remembered him; he was a heretic, not a benchmark in canonical development.[22]

Assessing Marcion’s Theology

Unfortunately, Marcion’s work does not exist in any extant manuscript. Outside of his prologues found in Latin New Testament texts, his views are only extant by references in the works of others.[23] Marcion’s only known work is called Antitheses (“Contradictions”), which served in an introductory capacity to his collection of documents.[24] It is not all sure what exactly was in Antitheses; consequently, as Bruce Metzger words it, “we have to content ourselves with deducing its contents from notices contained in the writings of opponents – particularly in Tertullian’s five volumes written against Marcion.”[25] Extant patristic authors who paid particular attention to Marcion are Justin Martyr (1 Apology), Irenaeus (Against Heresies), and Hippolytus (Refutation of All Heresies).

Christian historians are left to boil down Marcion’s beliefs. Schaff suggested three points at the maximum.[26] John Barton, however, reduces his theology in a two-fold manner.[27]

In Schaff’s summary of Marcion’s religious views, he acknowledges his Gnostic influences and beliefs but qualifies that Marcion was also a firm believer in Christianity as the only true religion. Still, it must be reminded that it was Marcion’s version of Christianity which he thought was the only true religion. Schaff writes:

Marcion supposed two or three primal forces (archaí): the good or gracious God (theòs agathós), whom Christ first made known; the evil matter (húlē), ruled by the devil, to which heathenism belongs; and the righteous world-maker (dēmiourgòs díkaios), who is the finite, imperfect, angry Jehovah of the Jews.[28]

(Schaff, History of the Christian Church 2.484).

Marcion, though, rejected the “pagan emanation theory, the secret tradition, and the allegorical interpretation of the Gnostics,” the typical gnostic tenets of Pleroma, Aeons, Dynameis, Syzygies, and the suffering Sophia.[29] These are the various ways in which Marcion did not stand in the same grouping as other Gnostics of his era. Yet, in short, on Schaff’s evaluation, Marcion believed in the good God of Jesus, an evil material universe, and that the Old Testament God was a finite imperfect world-marker. These are clearly on the grid of Gnosticism.

John Barton argues compellingly, however, that Marcion was in error in two large ways, each of which revealed how he viewed the Bible. The first is found in how he interpreted the God of the Old Testament:

[Marcion] had rejected the Old Testament as having any authority for Christians, arguing that the God of whom it spoke, the God of the Jews, was entirely different from the Christian God who had revealed himself in Jesus as the Savior of the world; indeed, it was from the evil creator-god of the Old Testament that Jesus had delivered his followers.[30]

John Barton “Marcion”

Justin Martyr similarly declares, Marcion teaches

his disciples to believe in some other god greater than the Creator. And he, […], has caused many of every nation to speak blasphemies, and to deny that God is the maker of this universe, and to assert that some other being, greater than He, has done greater works.[31]

(First Apology 26)

The second problem Marcion was in his truncation and editorial work on his collection of New Testament documents.[32] Irenaeus wrote:

[Marcion] mutilates the Gospel which is according to Luke, removing all that is written respecting the generation of the Lord, and setting aside a great deal of the teaching of the Lord, in which the Lord is recorded as most dearly confessing that the Maker of this universe is His Father. […]. In like manner, too, he dismembered the Epistles of Paul, removing all that is said by the apostle respecting that God who made the world.[33]

(Against Heresies 1:27:2)

As Tertullian writes, “Marcion expressly and openly used the knife, rather than the pen,” demonstrating that Marcion had a theological purpose for his “final cut.” Such “excisions of the Scriptures” was made, Tertullian explains, “to suit his own subject matter” (Prescription Against Heresies 38).[34]

In Barton’s view, Marcion rejected the Old Testament and accepted Jesus Christ and Christianity apart from Hebrew influences. He did not reject the notion that the God of the Old Testament existed. In fact, he firmly believed that he did. “The problem,” as Barton observes, “was that his creation was evil, and he himself therefore was a malign being; it was precisely the role of Jesus and of the Unknown God now revealed in him, to deliver humankind from the malice of the evil Creator.”[35] The rejection of the Old Testament must be qualified because Marcion accepted its divine origin, only that it is the result of an evil god.[36]

Marcion’s so-called “canon” was, in essence, a product of his version of the Gospel message, namely that “the good news of Jesus and the salvation brought by him” showed that the Old Testament was “the utterances of an evil being.”[37] Yet, his action to establish what he believed to be the authentic “gospel” also “cut” a line in the sand. Retrospectively, his actions affected the history of the Christian canon.

Marcion’s Collection and the Canon

Marcion’s Collection

F. F. Bruce observed that Marcion became the “first person known to us who published a fixed collection of what we should call the New Testament books.”[38] Whether or not others had done so before Marcion is irrelevant, Bruce asserts, as there is no knowledge of any other list.[39]

Marcion’s Antithesis was a treatise on the incompatibility of “law and gospel, of the Creator-Judge of the Old Testament and the merciful Father of the New Testament (who had nothing to do with either creation or judgment).”[40] This led to his bipartite collection (Gospel and Paul). As framed by Tertullian, Marcion composed of a mutilated version of Luke and “dismembered” parts of Paul’s epistles, which were all subject to his editorial “knife.”[41] This collection appeared and began to be circulated around A.D. 140 at the earliest, and possibly A.D. 150 due to a late edition of Luke.[42]

Marcion’s collection of the Gospel and Paul included an edited Gospel of Luke and a reduced Pauline corpus composed of Romans, 1–2 Corinthians, Galatians, Laodiceans (i.e., Ephesians), Philippians, Colossians, 1–2 Thessalonians, and Philemon. This was Marcion’s “canon.” But what is canon?

What is Canon?

The word “canon” (kanōn) has three basic meanings which play, as Harry Gamble observed, some role in the conception of the canonization of Scripture.[43] Deriving from the literal origin of being a reed of bulrush or papyrus, the Greek word kanōn came to denote for the craftsman a “measuring rod,” a “rule,” or simply put “a tool for measurement or alignment” hence “straight rod.”[44] The literal meaning gave way to metaphorical usage in keeping with the concept of standardization, thus canon became also synonymous with “an ideal standard, a firm criterion against which something could be evaluated and judged.”[45] Canon also came to mean “a list” or “a catalog” which seems to have been based on the calibration marks on the reed stick.[46]

All these uses of the canon have also found their way into the broader limits of the liberal arts for identifying unparalleled standards, but when it applies to sacred literature “canon denotes a list or collection of authoritative books.”[47] Canonical Christian literature as Scripture means these works are “the rule of faith” (regula fidei) and “the rule of truth” (regula veritatis); and as such, they are governing normative standards of apostolic faith with inherent value.[48]

It would be a mistake to think of a book that had to wait to be on a list to be regarded as canonical, or representative of faith and truth. As will be noted, canonicity is a qualitative threshold, not a quantitative one. It would be a mistake to think that simply on the grounds of Marcion’s list there were no other books recognized as possessing canonical status.

The Emerging Qualitative Canon

There is sufficient evidence to demonstrate that a fluid form of a canon existed–albeit quantitatively incomplete–in the late first century and the early second century.[49] Two passages that are particularly noteworthy are 2 Peter 3:15–16 and 2 Timothy 4:11–13, for they demonstrate that Paul’s letters were already being collected in the first century. Even if a pseudepigraphic near-second-century view of these epistles is correct, which is still a matter of dispute, the documents are still primary witnesses to the collection process of New Testament documents during this era.[50]

Factors Hindering the Formation of the Canon

Before evaluating what 2 Timothy and 2 Peter bring to the discussion of Marcion’s role in the formation of the New Testament canon, it appears vitally important to remember that there were various factors that hampered the collection process.

Dowell Flatt, Bible Professor of New Testament studies (Freed-Hardeman University), notes that there are at least seven important factors that hampered the canonization process of the New Testament.[51] First, the Old Testament was employed authoritatively and interpreted Christologically by the early church, consequently, “it did not immediately appear that another set of books would be needed.”

Second, the early church was still under the shadow of the Lord’s presence, and many of them would feel “no need for a written account of his life.”

Third, eyewitnesses (apostles and close disciples) to the Lord’s life and work were still alive (1 Cor 15:6); consequently, this adds to the strength of the second point.

Fourth, oral tradition was a vital element in the early Jewish make-up of the early church, and “as strange as it might sound to modern ears, many Jewish teachers did not commit their teachings to writing.” Oral tradition was important even around 130 A.D. for Papias felt that “the word of a living, surviving voice” was more important than “information from books.”[52] Some of the importance placed upon oral tradition is due to the expense of books, and illiteracy; and that Jesus did not write or command his disciples to write a word.[53]

Fifth, the nature of many apostolic writings was letters, not literary works, so is it understandable that “such writings” as the letters “were slow to be fully recognized as Scripture.” Sixth, the belief in a realized eschatology in the first century had “some influence” in hampering of the canonization process.

Seventh, the divinely inspired would speak a prophetic word, and while this was available the church was in no need of a written record per se (Flatt 139). Kurt Aland observes the second-century church, living beyond this blessing, “began to carefully distinguish between the apostolic past and the present.”[54]

King McCarver adds an eighth factor. There was no “ecclesiastical organization” that “composed or established the canon,” but instead the slow reception of these works at various intervals, across a large geographical region, of the early church was the context of the early sifting process before the councils.[55]

Evidence from 2 Peter and 2 Timothy

If Peter is the author of 2 Peter, which the author believes there is sufficient evidence to suggest he is, then the 2 Peter would be dated in the early 60s of the first century (before his traditional martyrdom in A.D. 65). Should 2 Peter be late, the epistle is typically dated to the end of the first century. This is principally due to the strong verbal allusions in the Apostolic Fathers, particularly in 1 Clement (A.D. 95–97) and 2 Clement (A.D. 98–100).[56] The latest reasonable date for 2 Peter is A.D. 80–90, generally argued for by Richard Bauckham, who views the letters as non-Petrine.[57]

In a similar fashion, if Paul is the author of 2 Timothy then it would generally be accepted to be also written in the first century (A.D. 55-60s), before his martyrdom, traditionally under Nero (A.D. 68). However, as W. Kümmel asserts, being a proponent of pseudepigraphic authorship of the pastorals (1 Timothy, 2 Timothy, and Titus), if 2 Timothy is not Pauline then it was probably penned around the “beginning of the second century.[58]

With these relevant items in mind, attention is now given to 2 Timothy and 2 Peter.

2 Peter 3:14–17

2 Peter 3:14–17 is the capstone of a moral argument set forth in the epistolē, rising from both apostolic theology and eschatology. The text may be translated as follows:

[14] Therefore, loved ones, since you wait for these things be eager to be found by him as spotless ones and blameless ones in peace; [15] and consider the patience of our Lord as salvation, just as also our beloved brother Paul (according to the wisdom entrusted to him) wrote to you,[16] as also by all [his] letters addressing these things in them, in which it is hard to understand some things, which those who are ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction as also the remaining Scriptures. [17] You therefore, loved ones, knowing in advance, be on your guard, in order that you may not be carried away from [your] firm footing by the error of lawless people. (Author's Translation)

Of particular interest here is the vocabulary employed in verses 15–16, for it is very clear that the author of 2 Peter is employing the authoritative weight of the Apostle Paul and the group of his letters (pásais epistolaís, “all [his] letters”) to support his argument. Moreover, the false teachers, characterized as being “ignorant” (amatheís) and “unstable” (astēriktoi), are twisting (strebloúsin) Paul’s words and the “remaining Scriptures” (tàs loipàs graphàs) to their “destruction” (apōleian).

The language itself bears very close similarities with canonical language; basically, language which recognizes normative revelation.[59] Conceptionally, the author of 2 Peter is appealing to an inspired holy prophet (i.e., Paul 3:15; cf. 1:20–21; 3:2), the normative Scriptures of the Hebrews (3:5–6), and himself implicitly as one who can identify the “prophetic word” (1.19). Despite one’s views towards the authorship of 2 Peter this simple observation must not be overlooked. Neyrey, who questions the validity of the argument here, recognizes that this may be a claim of “legitimacy […] There is only one tradition of teaching of God’s judgment and Jesus’ parousia.” This has the double effect of authenticating 2 Peter’s argument, while “automatically discrediting” the false teachers.[60]

Richard Bauckham likewise agrees that the author, whoever he is, “wishes to point out that his own teaching (specifically in 3:14–15a) is in harmony with Paul’s because Paul was an important authority for his readers.”[61] The appeal to a normative standard is definitely a necessity in order to demonstrate the validity of the argument. Is that not a canonical concept?

If the author of 2 Peter is employing normative, or standard theological argumentation based upon authoritative figures (Paul and the Old Testament) the implication is that the false teachers are not. Even if they are, the false teachers are so misconstruing Paul and the Old Testament’s affirmations that they are “torturing” them, to the point of making them appear as if they teach something that they do not (strebloúsin); thus, the audience is to understand that there is a normative standard.[62]

The language of the passage is again revealing. Paul is regarded as one who was endowed with wisdom (dotheísan autō sophían), which is a natural allusion to his direct reception of revelation elsewhere synonymously described (1 Cor 2:11–13 lambánō; Gal 1:12–17 apokalúpseōs).[63] The Pauline letters, however many are referred to, are saturated by this wisdom, but are subject to the false teacher’s interpretive methods, and since they are torturing them this behavior leads to their own destruction.

It seems that this destruction stems from the fact that Paul’s letters and tàs loipàs graphàs (“the remaining Scriptures”) in some way share the same character.[64] 2 Peter 3.16 connects this torture of tàs loipàs graphàs to their destruction as well, meaning that the same kind of punishment awaiting those who distort the meaning of Paul’s letters is awaiting those who twist the “rest of the Scriptures.”[65] This refers to the Old Testament Scriptures[66]; even Bauckham, who is opposed to Petrine authorship, concedes at the least that “it would make no sense to take graphàs in the nontechnical sense of ‘writings’; the definite article requires us to give it its technical sense” though he conceives of other books in the author’s purview.[67] Likewise, Earl J. Richard observes, “that the author means to include in this category the OT Scriptures is obvious, but beyond that it is unclear what Christian works would have been thus labeled.”[68]

From these observations, the proposition is advanced that the author of 2 Peter grounds his argumentation in a reference to accepted authority (tradition, or standard). This authority is threefold:  his prophetic office as an apostle; the Apostle Paul’s pásais epistolaís; and the Old Testament. Regardless of the position taken on the authorship question of 2 Peter, the method of argumentation is generally transparent despite some criticism of the validity of the logic within 2 Peter 3:15–16, particularly the admission of the difficulty of Paul’s treatment of some matters.[69] As a document existing before Marcion’s influential era, it poignantly addresses its audience with canonical overtones, demonstrates boldly that Marcion could have not fathered the notion of a New Testament canon, for the Peter appeals to the canon of the Hebrew Bible and a fluid Pauline canon-corpus.

One of the main arguments for 2 Peter 3.15-16 is that there is a Pauline corpus of indefinite size (pásais epistolaís), that both the author and his audience were aware of. Therefore, some consideration of an early Pauline corpus must be given. Some working theory of how Paul’s letters were collected and then circulated must be formulated. It is argued here that the process was both gradual in scope and immediate to Paul. The basis for this belief is grounded in slow circulation among the churches, the typical secretarial duty to make copies, and the arrival and usage of the codex.[70] McCarver observes that the occasional nature of the epistles highlights the point that there was some specificity to a given locale, and consequently as other churches desired copies the “exchange and copying” was gradual.[71]

Randolph Richards, while arguing for an unintentional collection, provides evidence that Paul would have had a copy of any letter in which he employed a secretary.[72] It appears to have been a standard secretarial task to make a copy for a proficient letter writer, and then place it within a codex for safekeeping, which in turn would be a depository for later publication if desired. A codex then became a warehouse for a penman; it would allow the neat copying of helpful phrases or expressions for another letter. Likewise, the secretary would have a copy of the letters for records. Thus, Richards argues that the codex became a practical matter, which ultimately became a pivotal matter in the formation of a Pauline corpus.[73]

2 Timothy 4:11–13

Despite the work being considered pseudonymous by many scholars, 2 Timothy 4:11–13 contributes to this discussion. The text reads:

[11] Luke alone is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry. [12] Tychicus I have sent to Ephesus. [13] When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, also the books, and above all the parchments. (Holy Bible, ESV)

The term “parchments” (membránas) is rather interesting since Paul, according to Richards, “is the only Greek writer of the first century to refer to membránai, a Roman invention.”[74] Parchment codices were used to retain copies of letters for future use to prepare rough drafts of other letters later written to be dispatched.

Interestingly, Richards ponders how this passage is affected if 2 Timothy is non-Pauline, and says that it only affects the explicit claim by Paul, but one can still “contend for Paul’s retaining his copies in a codex notebook solely because of customary practice.”[75] If 2 Timothy is Pauline, it would not be too much longer before Peter would arrive in Rome, if he had not been in Rome already.

Richards speculates fairly that “if Paul retained copies, then in the early 60s there was possibly only one collection in existence – namely, Paul’s personal set of copies.”[76] In connection the Peter and 2 Peter 3:15–16, Richards writes:

The possibility of Peter’s being aware of these [Paul’s person set of letters] or even having read them would be remote unless one postulate, as early traditions do, that Peter and Paul were both in Rome in the early 60s. In such a case, Peter a was in the only place where he could have seen copies of Paul’s letters. It is not unreasonable then to suggest that Peter would not have reviewed what had been written to churches in Asia Minor by Paul before he himself wrote to them, particularly if he was aware that some were confused by Paul’s letters.[77]

Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection of Paul’s Letters”

Such evidence appears compelling, however, it must be regarded as probable. Despite some of the speculative nature of the reconstruction, Richards’ theory holds up rather strongly with what would have taken place if the traditions of Paul and Peter are correct, and further addresses in a realistic fashion how Peter would have had access to a corpus of Paul’s letters. To say the least, 2 Timothy bolsters the argument made here that there was the beginning of a New Testament document collection earlier than Marcion’s canon.

In light of these points, Simon J. Kistemaker makes a contributing observation that adds bulk to the view that the documents themselves were intrinsically authoritative, but it took time for the church universal to sift through this tremendous body of literature and come to an agreement. Kistemaker argues that the church was accepting a qualitative canon until it accepted a quantitative canon:

“The books themselves, of course, have always been uniquely authoritative from the time of their composition. Therefore, we speak of a qualitative canon in early stages that led to a quantitative canon centuries later. The incipient canon began to exist near the end of the first century. The completed canon was recognized by the Church near the end of the fourth century.[78]

Kistemaker, “The Canon of the New Testament

Consequently, as has often been maintained, “the church did not create the canon,” but instead, developed from the bottom of the post-apostolic church structure to the top in the various councils to give focused attention to the authenticity of these works.[79]

Assessment

What may be said then regarding Marcion’s role in the formation of the New Testament Canon? Marcion does take a large place in New Testament canonical discussions. C. F. D. Moule poses several possibilities: “was Marcion’s [canon] the first canon, and is the orthodox canon the catholic [i.e. universal] Church’s subsequent reply? Or did Marcion play fast and loose with an already existing canon?” Moule’s answer: “There is at present no absolutely conclusive evidence for the existence of a pre-Marcionite catholic canon. Marcion may have been the catalyst […]. We cannot be certain.”[80]

However, because of the evidence above, it appears that there is more reason to suggest that Marcion was a catalyst to speed along what had been taking a slow time to develop.

Despite Marcion being the first person known to us who published a fixed collection,”[81] that propelled the church at large to collect an authoritative set of Scripture,[82] the only way, as Ferguson argues, that it can be accepted that Marcion created the canon is possible, is “only by not recognizing the authority that New Testament books already had in the church.”[83] Metzger frames the situation well:

If the authority of the New Testament books resides not in the circumstance of their inclusion within a collection made by the Church, but in the source from which they came, then the New Testament was in principle complete when the various elements coming from the source had been written. That is to say, when once the principle of the canon has been determined, then ideally its extent is fixed and the canon is complete when the books which by principle belong to it have been written. (Metzger 283-84)[84]

Metzger, The Canon of the New Testament

Truly, if the New Testament documents are going to be canonical, then they must have been such due to their inherent value which was theirs as they were completed by God’s spokesperson.

In the end, it is argued in agreement with E. Schnabel, that while Marcion may be the first known person to have put together a list of books in the canonical sense, which provoked the church “to draw up its own list,” he did not, however, create the fundamental idea of that a book (or list of books) could be authoritative (i..e, canonical)–an idea which had existed in earlier Christian times.[85]


Endnotes

  1. Eckhard Schnabel, “History, Theology, and the Biblical Canon: An Introduction to Basic Issues,” Them 20.2 (1995): 19–21.
  2. Wilber T. Dayton, “Factors Promoting the Formation of the New Testament Canon,” JETS 10 (1967): 28–35.
  3. Nicolaas Appel, “The New Testament Canon: Historical Process and Spirit’s Witness,” TS 32.1 (1971): 629.
  4. Everett Ferguson, “Factors Leading to the Selection and Closure of the New Testament Canon: A Survey of Some Recent Studies,” in The Canon Debate, edited by Lee M. McDonald and James E. Sanders (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002), 295.
  5. Ferguson, “Factors,” 309.
  6. F. F. Bruce, The New Testament Documents: Are they Reliable? 5th ed. (repr., Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 22.
  7. F. F. Bruce, The Canon of Scripture (Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1988), 134.
  8. Milton Fisher, “The Canon of the New Testament,” The Origin of the Bible, ed. Philip Comfort (Wheaton: Tyndale, 2003), 65.
  9. Fisher, “Canon of the New Testament,” 69.
  10. Simon J. Kistemaker, “The Canon of the New Testament,” JETS 20 (1977): 10.
  11. Schnabel, “History,” 19.
  12. Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church (1858–1867; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002), 2:484.
  13. Schaff, History, 2:484.
  14. Ibid.
  15. Bruce M. Metzger, The Canon of the New Testament: Its Origin, Development, and Significance (Oxford: Oxford UP, 1997), 90.
  16. Edwin Yamauchi, “The Gnostics and History,” JETS 14 (1971): 29.
  17. Harold O. J. Brown, Heresies: Heresy and Orthodoxy in the History of the Church (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2000), 39.
  18. Brown, Heresies, 39.
  19. Brown, Heresies, 40.
  20. Yamauchi, “Gnostics and History,” 29.
  21. All Ante-Nicene Fathers quotations are taken from Ante-Nicene Fathers, edited by Alexander Robertson and James Donaldson (1885; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 2004).
  22. Ferguson, “Factors,” 309-10.
  23. This is much like how the views of Porphyry, the neo-platonic antagonist of Christianity, are known (Bruce, Canon, 141).
  24. Metzger, Canon, 91; Ferguson, “Factors,” 309.
  25. John Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” The Canon Debate, edited by Lee M. McDonald and James E. Sanders (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002), 341–54. 353; Metzger, Canon, 91.
  26. Schaff, History, 2.484.
  27. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 341.
  28. Schaff, History, 2.484.
  29. Schaff, History, 2.484-85; Yamauchi, “Gnostics and History,” 30-33.
  30. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 341.
  31. Justin Martyr, First Apology 26. Translated by Marcus Dods and George Reith in Ante-Nicene Fathers, edited by Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature, 1885). Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight.
  32. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 341.
  33. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1:27:2. Translated by Alexander Roberts and William Rambaut in Ante-Nicene Fathers, edited by Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature, 1885). Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight. 
  34. Tertullian, Prescription Against Heresies 38; David W. Bercot, ed., “Marcion,” A Dictionary of Early Christian Beliefs (1998, reprint, Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2000), 420.
  35. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 344.
  36. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 345.
  37. Ibid., 345.
  38. Bruce, Canon, 134.
  39. Ibid., 134.
  40. Bruce, Canon 136
  41. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1:27:2; Tertullian, Prescription Against Heresies 38.
  42. Thomas D. Lea, and David Alan Black, The New Testament: Its Background and Message, 2nd ed. (Nashville: Broadman, 2003), 73; Merrill C. Tenney and Walter M. Dunnett, New Testament Survey. Rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 408; Metzger, Canon, 98.
  43. Harry Y. Gamble, The New Testament Canon: Its Making and Meaning (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985), 15–18; BDAG 507–08.
  44. Gamble, Canon, 15; MM 320.
  45. Gamble, Canon, 15
  46. Gamble, Canon, 15
  47. Richard N. Soulen and R. Kendall Soulen. Handbook of Biblical Criticism, 3rd ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2001), 29.
  48. Cecil M. Robeck, Jr., “Canon, Regulae Fidei, and Continuing Revelation in the Early Church,” Church, Word, and Spirit:  Historical and Theological Essays in Honor of Geoffrey W. Bromiley, edited by James E. Bradley and Richard A. Muller (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987), 70; Gamble, Canon, 16–17; Linda L. Belleville, “Canon of the New Testament,” Foundations for Biblical Interpretation, edited by. David S. Dockery, Kenneth A. Matthews, and Robert B. Sloan. Nashville: Broadman, 1994. 375: Lea and Black, The New Testament, 70–71.
  49. Kistemaker, “Canon,” 13.
  50. D. A. Carson, Douglas J. Moo, and Leon Morris, An Introduction to the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992), 367–71, 433–35.
  51. The main list of this section comes from Dowell Flatt, “Why Twenty-Seven New Testament Books?” Settled in Heaven: Applying the Bible to Life, edited by David Lipe (Henderson, TN: Freed-Hardeman University, 1996), 139; cf. James A. Brooks, Broadman Bible Commentary, edited by Clifton J. Allen (Nashville: Broadman, 1969), 8:18–21.
  52. Paul L. Maier, translator, Eusebius: The Church History – A New Translation with Commentary (Grand Rapids: Kregel, 1999), 127.
  53. On illiteracy see Alan Millard, Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus (Sheffield, England: Sheffield, 2001), 154–84. On the point that there is no explicit command by Jesus to write biblical books see D. I. Lanslots, The Primitive Church, Or The Church in the Days of the Apostles (1926, reprint, Rockford, IL: Tan Books, 1980), 102–09.
  54. Kurt Aland, “The Problem of Anonymity and Pseudonymity in Christian Literature of the First Two Centuries,” JETS 12 (1961), 47.
  55. King McCarver, “Why Are These Books in the Bible? – New Testament,” God’s Word for Today’s World:  The Biblical Doctrine of Scripture, edited by Don Jackson, et al. (Kosciusko, MI: Magnolia Bible College, 1986), 88; Kistemaker, “Canon,” 13.
  56. Michael W. Holmes, editor, The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004), 23, 104; Robert E. Picirilli, “Allusions to 2 Peter in the Apostolic Fathers,” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 33 (1988), 57–83.
  57. Richard J. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter (Waco, TX: Word, 1983), 157–58.
  58. Werner Georg Kümmel, Introduction to the New Testament, translated by Howard Clark Kee (Nashville: Abingdon, 1986), 387.
  59. D. Edmond Hiebert, “Selected Studies from 2 Peter Part 4: Directives for Living in Dangerous Days: An Exposition of 2 Peter 3:14-18a,” BSac 141 (1984): 336.
  60. Jerome H. Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (New York: Doubleday, 1993), 250.
  61. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 328.
  62. BDAG 948.
  63. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 329.
  64. Hiebert, “Selected Studies,” 336; Thomas R. Schreiner, 1, 2 Peter, Jude (Nashville: Broadman, 2003), 397–98; L&N 1:61.
  65. BDAG 602; W. Günther H. Krienke, “Remnant, Leave,” NIDNTT 3:252.
  66. Raymond C. Kelcy, The Letters of Peter and Jude (Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1987), 162; Tord Fornberg, An Early Church in a Pluralistic Society: A Study of 2 Peter, translated by Jean Gray (Sweden: Boktryckeri, 1977), 22; Krienke, “Remnant, Leave,” 252.
  67. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 333.
  68. Earl J. Richard, Reading 1 Peter, Jude, and 2 Peter: A Literary and Theological Commentary (Macon, GA: Smyth, 2000), 390.
  69. Luke T. Johnson, The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986), 443–44; Richard, 1 Peter, Jude, and 2 Peter, 388; Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude, 250.
  70. McCarver, “Why Are These Books in the Bible?,” 88; E. Randolph Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection of Paul’s Letters,” BBR 8 (1998): 155–66.
  71. McCarver, “Why Are These Books in the Bible?” 88.
  72. Richards, “The Codex,” 158–59.
  73. Richards, “The Codex,” 162–66.
  74. Richards, “The Codex,” 161.
  75. Richards, “The Codex,” 159–62.
  76. Richards, “The Codex,” 165.
  77. Richards, “The Codex,” 165–66.
  78. Kistemaker, “Canon,” 13.
  79. Kistemaker, “Canon” 13; McCarver 88-90; Flatt 140-42
  80. C. F. D. Moule, The Birth of the New Testament (London: Black, 1973), 198.
  81. Bruce 134
  82. Edward W. Bauman, An Introduction to the New Testament (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1961), 175.
  83. Ferguson, “Factors,” 309–10.
  84. Metzger, Canon, 283–84
  85. Schnabel, “History, Theology,” 19.

Bibliography

Aland, Kurt. “The Problem of Anonymity and Pseudonymity in Christian Literature of the First Two Centuries.” Journal of Theological Studies 12 (1961): 39-49.

Appel, Nicolaas. “The New Testament Canon: Historical Process and Spirit’s Witness.” Theological Studies 32.1 (1971): 627-46.

Barton, John. “Marcion Revisited.” The Canon Debate. Eds. Lee M. McDonald and James E. Sanders. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002. 341-54.

Bauckham, Richard J. Jude, 2 Peter. Word Biblical Commentary. Vol. 50. Gen. eds. David A. Hubbard and Glenn W. Barker. Waco, TX:  Word, 1983.

Bauman, Edward W. An Introduction to the New Testament. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1961.

(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 ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000.

Belleville, Linda L. “Canon of the New Testament.” Foundations for Biblical Interpretation: A Complete Library of Tools and Resources. Eds. David S. Dockery, Kenneth A. Matthews, and Robert B. Sloan. Nashville: Broadman, 1994.

Bercot, David W. Editor. A Dictionary of Early Christian Beliefs. 1998. Reprint, Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2000.

Brooks, James A. Broadman Bible Commentary. Vol. 8. Ed. Clifton J. Allen. Nashville: Broadman, 1969.

Brown, Harold O. J. Heresies: Heresy and Orthodoxy in the History of the Church. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2000.

Bruce, F.F. The Canon of Scripture. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1988.

—. The New Testament Documents: Are they Reliable? 5th ed. Leicester/Grand Rapids:  InterVarsity/Eerdmans, 2000.

Carson, D.A., Douglas J. Moo, and Leon Morris. An Introduction to the New Testament. Grand Rapids:  Zondervan, 1992.

Dayton, Wilber T. “Factors Promoting the Formation of the New Testament Canon.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 10 (1967): 28-35.

Ferguson, Everett. “Factors Leading to the Selection and Closure of the New Testament Canon: A Survey of Some Recent Studies.” The Canon Debate. Eds. Lee M. McDonald and James E. Sanders. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002. 295-320.

Fisher, Milton. “The Canon of the New Testament.” The Origin of the Bible. Ed. Philip Comfort. Wheaton: Tyndale, 2003. 65-78.

Flatt, Dowell. “Why Twenty Seven New Testament Books?” Settled in Heaven: Applying the Bible to Life. Ed. David Lipe. Annual Freed-Hardeman University Lectureship. Henderson, TN: Freed-Hardeman UP, 1996. 138-45.

Fornberg, Tord. An Early Church in a Pluralistic Society: A Study of 2 Peter. Trans. Jean Gray. Sweden:  Boktryckeri, 1977.

Gamble, Harry Y. The New Testament Canon: Its Making and Meaning. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985.

Hiebert, D. Edmond. “Selected Studies from 2 Peter Part 4:  Directives for Living in Dangerous Days:  An Exposition of 2 Peter 3:14-18a.” Bibliotheca Sacra 141 (1984): 330-40.

Holmes, Michael W. Ed. The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations. Rev. ed. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004.

Johnson, Luke T. The Writings of the New Testament:  An Interpretation. Philadelphia:  Fortress, 1986.

Kelcy, Raymond C. The Letters of Peter and Jude. The Living Word Commentary:  New Testament. Vol. 17. Ed. Everett Ferguson. Abilene, TX:  Abilene Christian UP, 1987.

Kistemaker, Simon J. “The Canon of the New Testament.” Journal of Evangelical Theological Society 20 (1977):  3-14.

Krienke, W. Günther H. “Remnant, Leave.” New International Dictionary of the New Testament Theology. Vol. 3. Ed. Colin Brown. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1978. 247-54.

Kümmel, Werner Georg. Introduction to the New Testament. Trans. Howard Clark Kee. Nashville: Abingdon, 1986.

Lanslots, D. I. The Primitive Church, Or The Church in the Days of the Apostles. 1926. Reprint, Rockford, IL: Tan Books, 1980.

Lea, Thomas D., and David Alan Black. The New Testament:  Its Background and Message. 2nd ed. Nashville:  Broadman, 2003.

(L&N) Louw, Johannes P., and Eugene A. Nida. Eds. Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament Based on Semantic Domains. 2nd ed. New York: United Bible Society, 1989. 2 vols.

Maier, Paul L. Trans. Eusebius:  The Church History – A New Translation with Commentary. Grand Rapids:  Kregel, 1999.

McCarver, King. “Why Are These Books in the Bible? – New Testament.” God’s Word for Today’s World:  The Biblical Doctrine of Scripture. Don Jackson, Samuel Jones, Cecil May, Jr., and Donald R. Taylor. Kosciusko, MI: Magnolia Bible College, 1986.

Metzger, Bruce M. The Canon of the New Testament: Its Origin, Development, and Significance. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1997.

Millard, Alan. Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus. Sheffield, England:  Sheffield, 2001.

Moule, C.F.D. The Birth of the New Testament. London: Black, 1973.

(MM) Moulton, James H., and George Milligan. The Vocabulary of the Greek Testament. 1930. Peabody:  Hendrickson, 1997.

Neyrey, Jerome H. 2 Peter, Jude:  A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. Anchor Bible. Vol. 37 C. Gen. ed. William F. Albright and David Noel Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1993

Picirilli, Robert E. “Allusions to 2 Peter in the Apostolic Fathers.” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 33 (1988):  57-83.

Richard, Earl J. Reading 1 Peter, Jude, and 2 Peter: A Literary and Theological Commentary. Reading the New Testament Series. Macon, GA:  Smyth, 2000.

Richards, E. Randolph. “The Codex and the Early Collection of Paul’s Letters.” Bulletin for Bulletin Research 8 (1998):  151-66.

Robeck, Cecil M., Jr. “Canon, Regulae Fidei, and Continuing Revelation in the Early Church.” Church, Word, and Spirit:  Historical and Theological Essays in Honor of Geoffrey W. Bromiley. Eds. James E. Bradley and Richard A. Muller. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987.

Robertson, Alexander, and James Donaldson. Eds. Ante-Nicene Fathers. Vols.1, 3-4. 1885. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2004.

Schaff, Philip. History of the Christian Church. Vols. 1-3. 1858-1867. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002.

Schnabel, Eckhard. “History, Theology, and the Biblical Canon: An Introduction to Basic Issues.” Themelios 20.2 (1995): 16-24.

Schreiner, Thomas R. 1, 2 Peter, Jude. The New American Commentary. Vol. 37. Gen. ed. E. Ray Clendenen. Nashville: Broadman, 2003.

Soulen, Richard N., and R. Kendall Soulen. Handbook of Biblical Criticism. 3rd ed. Rev. and expanded. Louisville: WJK, 2001.

Tenney, Merrill C., and Walter M. Dunnett. New Testament Survey. Rev. ed. Revised by Walter M. Dunnett. Grand Rapids/Leicester: Eerdmans/InterVarsity, 2001.

Yamauchi, Edwin. “The Gnostics and History.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 14.1 (1971): 29-40.


Prayer and Fasting in the Greek of Didache 8.1-3

In 1873 a manuscript was discovered by Philotheus Bryennios at Constantinople dating from the mid-11th century (AD 1056), though its tradition is believed to be of much earlier origin.[1] Due to certain political problems it was not published for ten years; however, once it began to be studied the Didache became generally known as “being the most important literary discovery in patrology made in the nineteenth century.”[2]

In fact, “the Didache (‘The Teaching’), as it is usually known today, is a ‘handbook,’ or manual of Christian ethical instruction and church order.”[3] It is believed that such instruction was offered to each candidate for church membership prior to baptism.

Although the text maintains a basic “literary unity,” the divergent interests and approaches of the materials strongly suggest, “more than one writer is at work here.”[4] One the one hand, the vocabulary and grammar is not extremely difficult; on the other hand, the theological insights from this early Christian document can become complex, particularly when a reconstructed community is conceptualized.

Exegesis of the Greek Text

8.1 (And) let your fasts not stand with the hypocrites, for they fast on the second and on the fifth day of the week, but you fast during the fourth day and during the Sabbath preparation day.[5]

The instruction logically moves from the prior discussion of baptism and the new converts’ requirement of fasting, to a capsulated discussion of fasting and prayer. Draper disagrees, affirming that Didache 8.1-3 is an “interruption to the logical progression of the liturgical section of Didache, in which baptism is followed by the Eucharist.”[6] However, Αἱ δὲ νηστεῖαι ὑμῶν μὴ ἔστωσαν μετὰ τῶν ὑποκριτῶν begins with the post-positive δὲ, connecting the logical flow between 7.1-4 and 8.1-3, and should not be viewed as adversative nor as an interruption.[7] Instead, it is a necessary discussion in connection with prospective converts.

The fasts (Αἱ + νηστεῖαι) are the first concern of this chapter, and they are particular fasts – they belong to the readers (ὑμῶν) who are preparing for baptism (Did. 7.4). This is the genitive of possession. The fasts that they are to perform must be expressly free from hypocrisy; moreover, this conclusion is drawn from μὴ ἔστωσαν μετὰ τῶν ὑποκριτῶν, where the author(s) of the Didache prohibit fasting (thus, an imperatival prohibition) that is μετὰ τῶν ὑποκριτῶν. This prepositional phrase is very descriptive, for it describes “the company in which an activity or experience takes place”; hence, the readers must refrain from joining the group of “hypocrites” (whoever they may be) when they fast.[8]

The prohibition against joining the hypocrites is given specificity by the post-positive γὰρ where it functions as a guide to understanding how to refrain from joining the company of hypocrites when fasting and praying. There seems to be more to the usage of γὰρ than at first glance. If it were simply a matter of explaining that the hypocrites fast on certain days of the week then this conjunction is unnecessary; however, it makes more sense that it takes on a “guide-to-an-ethical-methodology” based upon a cause for the instruction, even if it is too focused upon externals (i.e. specific days of the week).[9] It leads the potential converts to a methodology that allows them to avoid fasting which “coincides with those of the hypocrites” – μετὰ τῶν ὑποκριτῶν (Did. 8.1).[10] In order to express this ethical instruction, Robert Kraft renders the section, “do not let your fasts fall on the same day as ‘the hypocrites.’”[11]

The teacher(s) explain how these prospective converts can avert fasting in the same company as the hypocrites, by explaining that the hypocrites in question fast (νηστεύουσι; present of fact) on δευτέρα σαββάτων καὶ πέμπτῃ.[12] There is considerable discussion regarding who these hypocrites are. On the one hand, most see this as a reference to Pharisees because of the parallel instruction of Jesus in Matt 6:16-18; meanwhile, on the other hand, it is viewed as a reference to Christian Jews who are still partial to the pharisaical traditions.[13]

Aaron Milavec spends considerable time evaluating the evidence for the former, and argues heavily that Matthew and the Didache use the term hypocrisy differently and there is no solid evidence within rabbinic sources that the Pharisees distinguished themselves by fasting.[14] Furthermore, “when Did. 8.1 is compared with Matthew, one quickly detects that the Didache has an agenda and an internal logic quite distinct from that of Matthew’s Gospel.”[15] Be that as it may, from a grammatical and linguistic approach it is inconsequential. The fact of the matter is, the hypocrites fast on δευτέρα σαββάτων καὶ πέμπτῃ, and it is these days that are to be avoided by the soon-to-be-baptized-reader. These days are the second (δεύτερος)[16] and the fifth (πέμπτος)[17] days of the week (σάββατον[18]).

The reader learning which days to avoid is then given a glance into the future (cf. future tense of νηστεύσατε), where they see the days of the week they are going to designate for fasting (τετράδα καὶ παρασκευήν). This idiom for days of the week has been also clarified by Kraft as “Wednesday and Friday,”[19] but such is unnecessary. Consequently, Milavec’s translation is preferred. The post-positive δὲ is adversative, moving away from the days “the hypocrites” occupy for fasting, the δὲ functions to enhance the reader’s understanding that they are to take on the new ethic imposed by the future, but imperative in force, νηστεύσατε (you will fast).

8.2a (And) do not pray as the hypocrites but as the Lord ordered in his good news.

As is characteristic of the imperative, the verb assumes its own subject, being the person(s) who are either to do the express action of the verb, or if negated avoid the action of the verb. Here, there is another negated imperative (μηδὲ προσεύχεσθε) “you are not to pray […]”; however, the idea is incomplete because syntactically it is connected to ὡς οἱ ὑποκριταί “just as the hypocrites.” The idea of “praying” is supplemented by the phrase “just as the hypocrites”; hence, it can be argued that οἱ ὑποκριταί is functioning in an adverbial capacity to μηδὲ προσεύχεσθε. It goes without saying that praying is not what is being denied; instead, and more to the point, it is the type of praying characteristic of the hypocrites which is being denied.

“The hypocrites” almost serve as a biblical caricature of examples of how not to commune with God as a public servant of God (Matt 6:5-7). “The hypocrites” almost serve as a biblical caricature of examples of how not to commune with God as a public servant of God (Matt 6:5-7). Little wonder, that the author(s) contrast this how the prospective converts are not to pray, with a citation to the Gospel of the Lord (ὁ κύριος ἐν τῷ εὐαγγελίῳ αὐτοῦ).

This is perhaps the strongest argument that the Pharisees are seen as being equivalent to “the hypocrites”; however, there is no need to be literal since even the name Pharisee can be used figuratively for hypocrites. Be that as it may, the context of the Lord’s admonitions regarding prayer, as particular in Matthew, which has the high verbal agreement with Did. 8.2, has made Pharisee and hypocrite equivalent terms. The main rationale for the Lord’s condemnation is that they make public displays of religious devotion “to be seen by men” (Matt 6:5).

The contrasting ἀλλ’ emphasizes the transition from what not to do, towards the recommended orthodoxy, which is based upon an authoritative tradition. The ground for the moral instruction on prayer is what the Lord commands: ὡς ἐκέλευσεν ὁ κύριος ἐν τῷ εὐαγγελίῳ αὐτοῦ. This translates, “as the Lord commanded in his Gospel [or gospel message, good news]”; commanded, ἐκέλευσεν (+ dative), stresses the fact that Jesus himself required the fundamental aspects of proper prayer in his teaching ministry.[20] It is not just theoretical, the instruction may be found in the Lord’s Gospel (or gospel message, good news).

The phrase ἐν τῷ εὐαγγελίῳ αὐτοῦ, within itself does not demand that the command is dependent upon a written source especially since it has its divergences.[21] In fact, several scholars believe the following prayer is, though having strong parallels with Matthew 6:9-13,[22] an independent tradition and may have been relied upon by Matthew.[23]

8.2b Pray thus: Our Father, the one in heaven, your name be made holy, you kingdom come, your will be born upon earth as in heaven,

The phrase οὕτω προσεύχεσθε is the resulting imperative calling attention to the reader that they are to “offer prayers” in a certain fashion. The fashion is very closely paralleled with Matthew; however, as Lake discusses there are four divergences between Matthew and the Didache: τῷ οὐρανῷ, τὴν ὀφειλὴν, ἀφίεμεν, and the doxology ὅτι σοῦ ἐστιν ἡ δύναμις καὶ ἡ δόξα εἰς τοὺς αἰῶνας.[24] It takes the totality of Did. 8.1-3 for Lake to affirm:

These three sections, on fasting, on prayer, on the Lord’s Prayer, cannot be separated from each other. They point at least to similar local conditions; but the two former rather weaken the probability that the Lord’s Prayer is a direct quotation from our Matthew.[25]

Kirsopp Lake, The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers (1905)

What these differences between Matthew and the Didache suggest is, according to Lake, is nothing too substantive, they simply point to a more complex study of dependency. On this issue Milavec’s investigation on this particularly complex issue led him to conclude that there is no necessary proof that one borrowed from the other.[26] Similarly, according to Lake, these differences between Matthew and the Didache point to a broader sense of dependency (i.e., oral, proverbial) since vocabulary similarities and divergences, and the omission of similar Matthean tensions are absent, and so “the proverbial character of the saying reduces the weight which must be attached to verbal similarity.”[27]

The prepositional phrase ἐν τῷ οὐρανῷ functions as an adjective to ὁ “the one,” suggesting a prepositional phrase functioning in the attributive position; hence, just as ὁ ἄγγελος ὁ καλός translates “the good angel” or “the angel, namely the good one” the opening part of this prayer is attributive in structure: “Our Father [vocative Πάτερ], the one, namely in heaven.” The prayer Did. 8.2b.3 parallels the aorist imperative verbals of Matthew 6:9c-10:

Didache 8.2Matthew 6:9c-10Translation (AT)
ἁγιασθήτω τὸ ὄνομά σουἁγιασθήτω τὸ ὄνομά σουyour name be sanctified
ἐλθέτω ἡ βασιλεία σουἐλθέτω ἡ βασιλεία σουlet your kingdom arrive, 
γενηθήτω τὸ θέλημά σουγενηθήτω τὸ θέλημά σουyour desire come to pass,
ὡς ἐν οὐρανῷ καὶ ἐπὶ γῆςὡς ἐν οὐρανῷ καὶ ἐπὶ γῆςas in heaven so also on earth
Chart: Textual Parallels

The verbal parallels are striking. However, the usage of this tradition is different in its scope when compared to Matthew’s purpose of this prayer. The Didache has more of a liturgical and ceremonial baptismal preparations, emphasizing the specific wording of the prayer. Jesus, on the others hand, encouraged a well-balanced spiritual and personal prayer life anchored in intimacy with God rather than public fanfare (Matt 6:5-6).[28]

From the perspective of Matthew’s Gospel, the three sets of imperatival verbs are particularly interesting, each bearing a unique concept.[29] Following Jack P. Lewis’ observation, it is clear that the first is clearly a benediction of God greatness (ἁγιασθήτω τὸ ὄνομά σου), the second, stresses a recognition of God’s sovereignty (ἐλθέτω ἡ βασιλεία σου), and the third, accepts God’s will in any area it is to be accomplished (γενηθήτω τὸ θέλημά σου). It is difficult, therefore, not to impose Matthew’s contextual message upon the Didache; however, because there is a liturgical purpose for this prayer, it does stand in contradistinction to Matthew’s use.

Principally, observe that while Matthew stresses a spiritually fresh prayer life and expression (Matt 6:5-8), as opposed to endless repetitions of words (6:7-8), the Didache actually encourages repetition (Did. 8.3). Draper argues extensively that the community responsible for the final form of the Didache emphasizes external matters of purity for the purpose of maintaining public purity. Draper writes, “the instructions provide for Christian behaviour [sic] in the crucial and public areas of fasting and prayer which would differentiate them from their opponents.”[30]

8.2c give us this day our loaf that is coming, and forgive us our debt at the final judgment as we likewise now forgive our debtors,

In the analysis of this particular section of the Didache prayer, it is noticeable that there are two changes from the Matthew prayer of the Lord. Following the research of Milavec, the theological scope and worldview changes possibly towards a more focused eschatological perspective.[31] It is significant that the verbs in the petitions of the Didache prayer are all aorist imperatives, even the ones paralleled to Matthew (paralleled: ἁγιασθήτω, ἐλθέτω, γενηθήτω, δὸς, ἄφες, ῥῦσαι, and one divergent form ἀφήκαμεν). Milavec makes an eschatological argument, and suggests that all the aorist imperatives suggesting a one-time future action on the part of God must be eschatological in scope.[32]

Consequently, images such as bread (τὸν ἄρτον ἡμῶν) and eating are metonymy for a banquet in the kingdom (Luke 6:21, 14:15, 22:29-30; Matt 8:11; Rev 7:16).[33] Forgiveness within and for the Christian community is, in the Didache prayer, a future promise rather than a present reality and will be judged as a single action.[34] The pressing matter, however, is not to prove or disprove if the Matthew prayer reflects similar nuances in its eschatology. It is enough to understand that the Didache community was firmly aware of their eschatological worldview. 

8.2d-3 and do not lead us into the trial of the last days but deliver us from that evil because your is power and the glory forever. [8.3] Three times within the day pray thus.

This is the final appeal in the aorist construction; however, in this case, the Didache prayer appears to digress from Milavec’s thesis regarding the aorist imperative stressing an eschatological outlook. Specifically, εἰσενέγκῃς is a subjunctive. The distinction within itself does not rule out the larger eschatological implications raised by Milavec, especially since ῥῦσαι, “you are to deliver,” is an aorist imperative verb. Milavec approaches the phrase, καὶ μὴ εἰσενέγκῃς ἡμᾶς εἰς πειρασμόν, and argues that since all the other Aorist Imperatives demand a one time eschatological fulfillment, then it follows this aorist subjunctive still finds resolution in the over arching argument.[35]

The contrastive ἀλλὰ blusters Milavec’s argument since what is really being pleaded for is deliverance from evil (ῥῦσαι ἡμᾶς ἀπὸ τοῦ πονηροῦ), not the pastoral hand of God shepherding his children from πειρασμόν (trials). However, what Milavec finds as evidence for a tribulation, can be potentially argued for as praying with an eschatological worldview, where these Aorist Imperatives – since they are timeless – may view the person’s life until the eschatological end.[36]

One of the unique parts of this section of the Didache 8.2 is the doxology, which is its major divergence from the Matthean prayer. As Kirsopp Lake stingingly remarks:

The peculiar form of the doxology does not agree exactly with any of the forms known to occur in the authorities for the text of Matthew.

Kirsopp Lake, The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers (1905)[37]

This has been the continued opinion of the editors of the eclectic Greek Testament texts that the Matthean prayer ends with πονηροῦ. Bruce Metzger observes that the major textual witnesses are late which include the doxology (9th century), the major textual witnesses which omit the doxology are early, and the witnesses which include it are not uniform and appear to be intentional expansion of the prayer when reappropriated for external liturgical use (as in The Didache, etc.).[38] Thus, the association of this doxology with Matthew’s prayer is ancient but it does not have the textual support to be included in the body of the prayer (contra the KJV and Received Text traditions for Matthew 6:13b).

At any rate, the shift given by ὅτι in a very practical sense closes the petitions offered by the potential convert, who acknowledges that “the power and glory belong” to the Father “into the depths of eternal.” The author(s) of the Didache return to their orthodox imperatival thrust: “You will pray like this three times a day.” The present imperative προσεύχεσθε returns the instructive balance to this section of the Didache which continues its “catechism” training for the one interested in joining the Christian community associated with this manual.

Conclusion

In summation, the Didache is a profound find in the field of Patristic Studies, providing insights into the community or communities to which it addressed. The syntax and vocabulary is not at all particularly difficult, it appears to be written at a very basic level.

The section examined demonstrated that there was a strong desire for the early Christians to visibly and practically be separate from any public association with hypocrites. Not even the days of the potential convert could or should coincide with the days which hypocrites fast upon. The references and citations of traditions found within the New Testament (quotations probable but not always necessary), coupled with the possible “new slant” contextualized by the author(s), brings a theological complexity that must be sifted and sorted out before a proper exegesis of the sections can be accomplished.

Endnotes

  1. Dates have ranged from AD 70, late second century, and even the third century; however, Kraft suggests that a secure date is the sometime within the fourth century somewhere near Egypt (Robert A. Kraft, “Didache” ABD 2:197).
  2. Francis X. Glimm, “The Didache or Teaching of the Twelve Apostles,” The Fathers of the Church, ed. R. Joseph Deferrari (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of American Press, 1969), 167-68.
  3. Michael W. Holmes, “Didache” DLNT 300.
  4. Clayton N. Jefford, Kenneth J. Harder, and Louis D. Amezaga, Reading the Apostolic Fathers: An Introduction (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2003), 35.
  5. The translation in the headings is taken from Aaron Milavec, The Didache: Faith, Hope, and Life of the Earliest Christian Communities, 50-70 C.E. (New York: Newman, 2003). Other translations will be noted. All uncredited translations are my own (AT).
  6. Jonathan A. Draper, “Christian Self-Definition Against the ‘Hypocrites’ in Didache 8,” Society of Biblical Literature 1992 Seminar Papers, ed. Eugene H. Lovering, Jr. (Atlanta, GA: Scholars, 1992), 364.
  7. The primary Greek text used for this study is from Michael Holmes, ed., The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2004), and Kirsopp Lake, The Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1, LCL (London: Heinemann, 1919).
  8. BDAG 637.
  9. BDAG 189.
  10. Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 259.
  11. Kraft, “Barnabas and the Didache,” 165.
  12. Kraft translates this expression as: “Monday and Thursday” (“Barnabas and the Didache,” 165), but we follow Milavec’s lead due to his literalness. Kraft’s translation does bring this idiom into modern parlance. It is preferable to leave it as is (Milavec), since it can be understood apart from accommodation to modern convention similarly done in the New Testament (Matt 28:1-2; Mark 16:1-3; Acts 20:7; 1 Cor 16.1-2).
  13. Glimm, “The Didache,” 177.
  14. Milavec, The Didache: Faith, Hope, and Life, 301-03.
  15. Milavec, 302.
  16. Did. 2.1 uses a similar expression, “the second commandment of the teaching is […]” (Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 252); that is, this is the second of a series of commandments.
  17. Moulton and Milligan provide an example of this sequential use: “showing the housing conditions of the time, we may cite P Fay 3115 (c. a.d. 129) where a woman applies to the keepers of the archives at Arsinoe for leave to alienate πέμπτον μέρος, “the fifth part” of certain house property belonging to her” (MM 502).
  18. BDAG lists both the singular and plural forms of σάββατον referring to a period of seven days, and any numeral connected to it represent that particular day of the week (910).
  19. Kraft, “Barnabas and the Didache,” 165.
  20. MM (340) lists the aorist active indicative κελεύω + the dative construction rare and list one New Testament example from the Received Greek Text and the King James Version of Matthew 15:35 (κελεύω + dative), whereas, the UBS4 reads παραγγείλας. The sense of urging to the point of a command is reasonable in such cases.
  21. Kirsopp Lake, “Didache,” in The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers (Oxford: Clarendon, 1905), 28-29. As will be developed in this paper, Lake observes a noticeable dependence of Did. 8 on Matthew 6 along with variations.
  22. Glimm points out that Matthew 6:9-13 and the Did. 8.2 agree against the parallel passage in Luke 11:2-4 (“The Didache,” 178).
  23. Draper, “Christian Self-Definition,” 632. Milavec has argued convincingly that despite their similarities, they are not enough when considering the influence of orality within the early church; furthermore, the divergences of theological emphases between Matthew and Didache argue against dependence (The Didache: Faith, Hope, and Life, 694-739).
  24. Lake, “Didache,” 29.
  25. Lake, “Didache,” 29.
  26. Milavec, The Didache: Faith, Hope, and Life, 695-739.
  27. Lake, “Didache,” 27.
  28. Jack P. Lewis, The Gospel According to Matthew (Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1984), 2:101.
  29. Lewis, Matthew, 2:101-02.
  30. Draper, “Christian Self-Definition,” 374.
  31. Aaron Milavec, The Didache: Text, Translation, Analysis, and Commentary (Collegeville: Liturgical, 2003), 66.
  32. Milavec, The Didache: Text, 65.
  33. Milavec, 66.
  34. Milavec, 66.
  35. Milavec, 66.
  36. Milavec, 66.
  37. Lake, “Didache,” 29.
  38. Bruce M. Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, 2d ed. (Germany: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2001), 13-14.

Selected Bibliography

(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, IL: University of Chicago Press, 2000.

Draper, Jonathan A. “Christian Self-Definition Against the ‘Hypocrites’ in Didache 8.” Society of Biblical Literature 1992 Seminar Papers 31. Edited by Eugene H. Lovering, Jr. Atlanta, GA: Scholars, 1992.

Glimm, Francis X. Translator. “The Didache or Teaching of the Twelve Apostles.” Pages 165-84 in vol. 1 of The Fathers of the Church: A New Translation. Edited by R. Joseph Deferrari. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1969.

Holmes, Michael W. Editor. The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations. Revised edition. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2004.

_____. “Didache, The.” Pages 300-02 in Dictionary of the Later New Testament and Its Development. Edited by Ralph P. Martin and Peter H. Davids. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1997.

Jefford, Clayton N., Kenneth J. Harder, and Louis D. Amezaga. Reading the Apostolic Fathers: An Introduction. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2003.

Kraft, Robert A. “Barnabas and the Didache.” In vol. 3 of The Apostolic Fathers: A New Translation and Commentary. Edited by Robert M. Grant. New York: Nelson, 1965.

_____. “Didache.” Anchor Bible Dictionary. Vol. 2. Edited by David Noel Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1992.

Lake, Kirsopp. The Apostolic Fathers. Vol. 1. LCL. Edited by E. Capps, T. E. Page, and W. H. D. Rouse. London: Heinemann, 1919.

_____. “Didache.” Pages 24-36 in The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers. Oxford: Clarendon, 1905.

Lewis, Jack P. The Gospel According to Matthew. Vol. 1. LWCNT 2. Edited by Everett Ferguson. Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1984.

Metzger, Bruce M. A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament. 2d edition. Germany: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2001.

Milavec, Aaron. The Didache: Faith, Hope, and Life of the Earliest Christian Communities, 50-70 C.E. New York: Newman, 2003.

_____. The Didache: Text, Translation, Analysis, and Commentary. Collegeville: Liturgical, 2003.

(MM) Moulton, James H., and George Milligan. Vocabulary of the Greek Testament. 1930. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1997.

(UBS4) Aland, Barbara, et al. Editors. Greek New Testament. 4th revised edition. Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2001.